The Wheels of Chance_第1章_无广告免费看-丁香书院

　　THEPRINCIPALCHARACTERINTHESTORY
　　I。
　　Ifyou（presumingyouareofthesexthatdoessuchthings）——ifyouhadgoneintotheDraperyEmporium——whichisreallyonlymagnificentforshop——ofMessrs。Antrobus&Co。——aperfectlyfictitious"Co。，"bythebye——ofPutney，onthe14thofAugust，1895，hadturnedtotheright—handside，wheretheblocksofwhitelinenandpilesofblanketsriseuptotherailfromwhichthepinkandblueprintsdepend，youmighthavebeenservedbythecentralfigureofthisstorythatisnowbeginning。Hewouldhavecomeforward，bowingandswaying，hewouldhaveextendedtwohandswithlargishknucklesandenormouscuffsoverthecounter，andhewouldhaveaskedyou，protrudingapointedchinandwithouttheslightestanticipationofpleasureinhismanner，whathemighthavethepleasureofshowingyou。Undercertaincircumstances——as，forinstance，hats，babylinen，gloves，silks，lace，orcurtains——hewouldsimplyhavebowedpolitely，andwithadroopingexpression，andmakingakindofcircularsweep，invitedyouto"stepthisway，"andsoledyoubeyondhisken;
　　butunderotherandhappierconditions，——huckaback，blankets，dimity，cretonne，linen，calico，arecasesinpoint，——hewouldhaverequestedyoutotakeaseat，emphasisingthehospitalitybyleaningoverthecounterandgrippingachairbackinaspasmodicmanner，andsoproceededtoobtain，unfold，andexhibithisgoodsforyourconsideration。Underwhichhappiercircumstancesyoumight——ifofanobservingturnofmindandnottoomuchofahousewifetobeinhuman——havegiventhecentralfigureofthisstorylesscursoryattention。
　　Nowifyouhadnoticedanythingabouthim，itwouldhavebeenchieflytonoticehowlittlehewasnoticeable。Heworetheblackmorningcoat，theblacktie，andthespeckledgreynetherparts（descendingintoshadowandmysterybelowthecounter）ofhiscraft。Hewasofapallidcomplexion，hairofakindofdirtyfairness，greyisheyes，andaskimpy，immaturemoustacheunderhispeakedindeterminatenose。Hisfeatureswereallsmall，butnoneill—shaped。Arosetteofpinsdecoratedthelappelofhiscoat。Hisremarks，youwouldobserve，wereentirelywhatpeopleusedtocallcliche，formulaenotorganictotheoccasion，butstereotypedagesagoandlearntyearssincebyheart。"This，madam，"hewouldsay，"issellingverywell""Wearedoingaverygoodarticleatfourthreeayard。""Wecouldshowyousome。
　　thingbetter，ofcourse。""Notrouble，madam，Iassureyou。"Suchwerethesimplecountersofhisintercourse。So，Isay，hewouldhavepresentedhimselftoyoursuperficialobservation。Hewouldhavedancedaboutbehindthecounter，haveneatlyrefoldedthegoodshehadshownyou，haveputononesidethoseyouselected，extractedalittlebookwithacarbonleafandatinfoilsheetfromafixture，madeyououtalittlebillinthatweakflourishinghandpeculiartodrapers，andhavebawled"Sayn！"
　　Thenapuffylittleshop—walkerwouldhavecomeintoview，lookedatthebillforasecond，veryhard（showingyouapartingdownthemiddleofhisheadmeanwhile），havescribbledastillmoreflourishingJ。M。alloverthedocument，haveaskedyouiftherewasnothingmore，havestoodbyyou——supposingthatyouwerepayingcash——untilthecentralfigureofthisstoryreappearedwiththechange。Oneglancemoreathim，andthepuffylittleshop—walkerwouldhavebeenbowingyouout，withfountainsofcivilitiesatworkallaboutyou。Andsotheinterviewwouldhaveterminated。
　　Butrealliterature，asdistinguishedfromanecdote，doesnotconcernitselfwithsuperficialappearancesalone。Literatureisrevelation。Modernliteratureisindecorousrevelation。Itisthedutyoftheearnestauthortotellyouwhatyouwouldnothaveseen——evenatthecostofsomeblushes。Andthethingthatyouwouldnothaveseenaboutthisyoungman，andthethingofthegreatestmomenttothisstory，thethingthatmustbetoldifthebookistobewritten，was——letusfaceitbravely——theRemarkableConditionofthisYoungMan’sLegs。
　　Letusapproachthebusinesswithdispassionateexplicitness。Letusassumesomethingofthescientificspirit，thehard，almostprofessorialtoneoftheconscientiousrealist。Letustreatthisyoungman’slegsasamerediagram，andindicatethepointsofinterestwiththeunemotionalprecisionofalecturer’spointer。
　　Andsotoourrevelation。Ontheinternalaspectoftherightankleofthisyoungmanyouwouldhaveobserved，ladiesandgentlemen，acontusionandanabrasion;ontheinternalaspectoftheleftankleacontusionalso;onitsexternalaspectalargeyellowishbruise。Onhisleftshinthereweretwobruises，onealeadenyellowgraduatinghereandthereintopurple，andanother，obviouslyofmorerecentdate，ofablotchyred——tumidandthreatening。Proceedinguptheleftleginaspiralmanner，anunnaturalhardnessandrednesswouldhavebeendiscoveredontheupperaspectofthecalf，andabovethekneeandontheinnerside，anextraordinaryexpanseofbruisedsurface，akindofcloselystippledshadingofcontusedpoints。Therightlegwouldbefoundtobebruisedinamarvellousmannerallaboutandundertheknee，andparticularlyontheinterioraspectoftheknee。Sofarwemayproceedwithourdetails。Firedbythesediscoveries，aninvestigatormightperhapshavepursuedhisinquiriesfurther—
　　—tobruisesontheshoulders，elbows，andeventhefingerjoints，ofthecentralfigureofourstory。Hehadindeedbeenbumpedandbatteredatanextraordinarynumberofpoints。Butenoughofrealisticdescriptionisasgoodasafeast，andwehaveexhibitedenoughforourpurpose。Eveninliteratureonemustknowwheretodrawtheline。
　　Nowthereadermaybeinclinedtowonderhowarespectableyoungshopmanshouldhavegothislegs，andindeedhimselfgenerally，intosuchadreadfulcondition。Onemightfancythathehadbeensittingwithhisnetherextremitiesinsomecomplicatedmachinery，athreshing—machine，say，oroneofthosehay—makingfuries。ButSherlockHolmes（nowhappilydead）wouldhavefanciednothingofthekind。Hewouldhaverecognisedatoncethatthebruisesontheinternalaspectoftheleftleg，consideredinthelightofthedistributionoftheotherabrasionsandcontusions，pointedunmistakablytotheviolentimpactoftheMountingBeginneruponthebicyclingsaddle，andthattheruinousstateoftherightkneewasequallyeloquentoftheconcussionsattendantonthatperson’shasty，frequentlycauseless，andinvariablyill—
　　conceiveddescents。Onelargebruiseontheshinisevenmorecharacteristicofthe’prenticecyclist，foruponeveryoneofthemwaitsthejestoftheunexpectedtreadle。Youtryatleasttowalkyourmachineinaneasymanner，andwhack！——youarerubbingyourshin。Sooutofinnocenceweripen。Twobruisesonthatplacemarkacertainwantofaptitudeinlearning，suchasonemightexpectinapersonunusedtomuscularexercise。
　　Blistersonthehandsareeloquentofthenervousclutchofthewaveringrider。Andsoforth，untilSherlockispresentlyexplaining，bythehelpoftheminorinjuries，thatthemachineriddenisanold—fashionedaffairwithaforkinsteadofthediamondframe，acushionedtire，wellwornonthehindwheel，andagrossweightallonofperhapsthree—and—fortypounds。
　　Therevelationismade。BehindthedecorousfigureoftheattentiveshopmanthatIhadthehonourofshowingyouatfirst，risesavisionofanightlystruggle，oftwodarkfiguresandamachineinadarkroad，——theroad，tobeexplicit，fromRoehamptontoPutneyHill，——andwiththisvisionisthesoundofaheelspurningthegravel，agaspingandgrunting，ashoutingof"Steer，man，steer！"awaveringunsteadyflight，aspasmodicturningofthemissileedificeofmanandmachine，andacollapse。Thenyoudescrydimlythroughtheduskthecentralfigureofthisstorysittingbytheroadsideandrubbinghislegatsomenewplace，andhisfriend，sympathetic（butbynomeansdepressed），repairingthedisplacementofthehandle—bar。
　　Thuseveninashopassistantdoesthewarmthofmanhoodassertitself，anddrivehimagainstalltheconditionsofhiscalling，againstthecounselsofprudenceandtherestrictionsofhismeans，toseekthewholesomedelightsofexertionanddangerandpain。Andourfirstexaminationofthedraperrevealsbeneathhisdraperies——theman！Towhichinitialfact（amongothers）weshallcomeagainintheend。
　　II
　　Butenoughoftheserevelations。Thecentralfigureofourstoryisnowgoingalongbehindthecounter，adraperindeed，withyourpurchasesinhisarms，tothewarehouse，wherethevariousarticlesyouhaveselectedwillpresentlybepackedbytheseniorporterandsenttoyou。Returningthencetohisparticularplace，helayshandsonafoldedpieceofgingham，andgrippingthecornersofthefoldsinhishands，beginstostraightenthempunctiliously。Nearhimisanapprentice，apprenticedtothesamehighcallingofdraper’sassistant，aruddy，red—hairedladinaveryshorttaillessblackcoatandaveryhighcollar，whoisdeliberatelyunfoldingandrefoldingsomepatternsofcretonne。
　　Bytwenty—onehetoomayhopetobeafull—blownassistant，evenasMr。Hoopdriver。Printsdependfromthebrassrailsabovethem，behindarefixturesfullofwhitepackagescontaining，asinscriptionstestify，Lino，HdBk，andMull。Youmightimaginetoseethemthatthetwowerebothintentuponnothingbutsmoothnessoftextileandrectitudeoffold。Buttotellthetruth，neitheristhinkingofthemechanicaldutiesinhand。Theassistantisdreamingofthedelicioustime——onlyfourhoursoffnow——whenhewillresumethetaleofhisbruisesandabrasions。
　　Theapprenticeisnearerthelonglongthoughtsofboyhood，andhisimaginationridescap—a—piethroughthechambersofhisbrain，seekingsomeknightlyquestinhonourofthatFairLady，thelastbutoneofthegirlapprenticestothedress—makingupstairs。Heinclinesrathertostreetfightingagainstrevolutionaries——becausethenshecouldseehimfromthewindow。
　　Jerkingthembacktothepresentcomesthepuffylittleshop—walker，withapaperinhishand。Theapprenticebecomesextremelyactive。Theshopwalkereyesthegoodsinhand。
　　"Hoopdriver，"hesays，"how’sthatlineofg—sez—xginghams？"
　　Hoopdriverreturnsfromanimaginarytriumphovertheuncertaintiesofdismounting。"They’regoingfairlywell，sir。
　　Butthelargerchecksseemhanging。"
　　Theshop—walkerbringsupparalleltothecounter。"Anyparticulartimewhenyouwantyourholidays？"heasks。
　　Hoopdriverpullsathisskimpymoustache。"No——Don’twantthemtoolate，sir，ofcourse。"
　　"Howaboutthisdayweek？"
　　Hoopdriverbecomesrigidlymeditative，grippingthecornersoftheginghamfoldsinhishands。Hisfaceiseloquentofconflictingconsiderations。Canhelearnitinaweek？That’sthequestion。OtherwiseBriggswillgetnextweek，andhewillhavetowaituntilSeptember——whentheweatherisoftenuncertain。Heisnaturallyofasanguinedisposition。Alldrapershavetobe，orelsetheycouldneverhavethefaiththeyshowinthebeauty，washability，andunfadingexcellenceofthegoodstheysellyou。
　　Thedecisioncomesatlast。"That’lldomeverywell，"saidMr。
　　Hoopdriver，terminatingthepause。
　　Thedieiscast。
　　Theshop—walkermakesanoteofitandgoesontoBriggsinthe"dresses，"thenextinthestrictscaleofprecedenceoftheDraperyEmporium。Mr。Hoopdriverinalternatingspasmsanonstraightenshisginghamandanonbecomesmeditative，withhistongueinthehollowofhisdecayingwisdomtooth。
　　III
　　Atsupperthatnight，holidaytalkheldundisputedsway。Mr。
　　Pritchardspokeof"Scotland，"MissIsaacsclamouredofBettws—y—Coed，Mr。JudsondisplayedaproprietaryinterestintheNorfolkBroads。"I？"saidHoopdriverwhenthequestioncametohim。"Why，cycling，ofcourse。"
　　"You’renevergoingtoridethatdreadfulmachineofyours，dayafterday？"saidMissHoweoftheCostumeDepartment。
　　"Iam，"saidHoopdriverascalmlyaspossible，pullingattheinsufficientmoustache。"I’mgoingforaCyclingTour。AlongtheSouthCoast。"
　　"Well，allIhope，Mr。Hoopdriver，isthatyou’llgetfineweather，"saidMissHowe。"Andnotcomeanynastycroppers。"
　　"Anddoneforgetsometinscherofarnicainyerbag，"saidthejuniorapprenticeintheveryhighcollar。（HehadwitnessedoneofthelessonsatthetopofPutneyHill。）
　　"Youstowit，"saidMr。Hoopdriver，lookinghardandthreateninglyatthejuniorapprentice，andsuddenlyaddinginatoneofbittercontempt，——"Jampot。"
　　"I’mgettingfairlysafeuponitnow，"hetoldMissHowe。
　　AtothertimesHoopdrivermighthavefurtherresentedthesatiricaleffortsoftheapprentice，buthismindwastoofulloftheprojectedTourtoadmitanypettydelicaciesofdignity。Heleftthesuppertableearly，sothathemightputinagoodhouratthedesperategymnasticsuptheRoehamptonRoadbeforeitwouldbetimetocomebackforlockingup。Whenthegaswasturnedoffforthenighthewassittingontheedgeofhisbed，rubbingarnicaintohisknee——anewandverybigplace——andstudyingaRoadMapoftheSouthofEngland。Briggsofthe"dresses，"whosharedtheroomwithhim，wassittingupinbedandtryingtosmokeinthedark。Briggshadneverbeenonacycleinhislife，buthefeltHoopdriver’sinexperienceandofferedsuchadviceasoccurredtohim。
　　"Havethemachinethoroughlywelloiled，"saidBriggs，"carryoneortwolemonswithyou，don’ttearyourselftodeaththefirstday，andsitupright。Neverlosecontrolofthemachine，andalwayssoundthebelloneverypossibleopportunity。Youmindthosethings，andnothingverymuchcan’thappentoyou，Hoopdriver——youtakemyword。"
　　Hewouldlapseintosilenceforaminute，saveperhapsforacurseorsoathispipe，andthenbreakoutwithanentirelydifferentsetoftips。
　　"Avoidrunningoverdogs，Hoopdriver，whateveryoudo。It’soneoftheworstthingsyoucandotorunoveradog。Neverletthemachinebuckle——therewasamankilledonlytheotherdaythroughhiswheelbuckling——don’tscorch，don’trideonthefoot—path，keepyourownsideoftheroad，andifyouseeatram—line，goroundthecorneratonce，andhurryoffintothenextcounty——andalwayslightupbeforedark。Youmindjustafewlittlethingslikethat，Hoopdriver，andnothingmuchcan’thappentoyou——youtakemyword。"
　　"Rightyouare！"saidHoopdriver。"Good—night，oldman。"
　　"Good—night，"saidBriggs，andtherewassilenceforaspace，saveforthesucculentrespirationofthepipe。HoopdriverrodeoffintoDreamlandonhismachine，andwasscarcelytherebeforehewaspitchedbackintotheworldofsenseagain。——Something——
　　whatwasit？
　　"Neveroilthesteering。It’sfatal，"avoicethatcamefromroundafitfulglowoflight，wassaying。"Andcleanthechaindailywithblack—lead。Youmindjustafewlittlethingslikethat——"
　　"LordLOVEus！"saidHoopdriver，andpulledthebedclothesoverhisears。
　　THERIDINGFORTHOFMR。HOOPDRIVER
　　IV。
　　Onlythosewhotoilsixlongdaysoutoftheseven，andalltheyearround，saveforonebriefgloriousfortnightortendaysinthesummertime，knowtheexquisitesensationsoftheFirstHolidayMorning。Allthedreary，uninterestingroutinedropsfromyousuddenly，yourchainsfallaboutyourfeet。AllatonceyouareLordofyourself，Lordofeveryhourinthelong，vacantday;
　　youmaygowhereyouplease，callnoneSirorMadame，havealappelfreeofpins，doffyourblackmorningcoat，andwearthecolourofyourheart，andbeaMan。Yougrudgesleep，yougrudgeeating，anddrinkingeven，theirintrusiononthoseexquisitemoments。Therewillbenomorerisingbeforebreakfastincasualoldclothing，togodustingandgettingreadyinacheerless，shutterdarkened，wrappered—upshop，nomoreimperiouscriesof，"Forward，Hoopdriver，"nomorehastymeals，andwearyattendanceonfitfuloldwomen，fortenblesseddays。Thefirstmorningisbyfarthemostglorious，foryouholdyourwholefortuneinyourhands。Thereafter，everynight，comesapang，aspectre，thatwillnotbeexorcised——thepremonitionofthereturn。Theshadowofgoingback，ofbeingputinthecageagainforanothertwelvemonths，liesblackerandblackeracrossthesunlight。Butonthefirstmorningofthetentheholidayhasnopast，andtendaysseemsasgoodasinfinity。
　　Anditwasfine，fullofapromiseofgloriousdays，adeepblueskywithdazzlingpilesofwhitecloudhereandthere，asthoughcelestialhaymakershadbeenpilingtheswathesoflastnight’scloudsintococksforacomingcartage。TherewerethrushesintheRichmondRoad，andalarkonPutneyHeath。Thefreshnessofdewwasintheair;dewortherelicsofanovernightshowerglitteredontheleavesandgrass。HoopdriverhadbreakfastedearlybyMrs。Gunn’scomplaisance。HewheeledhismachineupPutneyHill，andhisheartsangwithinhim。Halfwayup，adissipated—lookingblackcatrushedhomeacrossflileroadandvanishedunderagate。Allthebigred—brickhousesbehindthevariegatedshrubsandtreeshadtheirblindsdownstill，andhewouldnothavechangedplaceswithasoulinanyoneofthemforahundredpounds。
　　Hehadonhisnewbrowncyclingsuit——ahandsomeNorfolkjacketthingfor30/——andhislegs——thosemartyrlegs——weremorethanconsoledbythickchequeredstockings，"thininthefoot，thickintheleg，"foralltheyhadendured。AneatpacketofAmericanclothbehindthesaddlecontainedhischangeofraiment，andthebellandthehandle—barandthehubsandlamp，albeitatriflefreckledbywear，glitteredblindinglyintherisingsunlight。
　　Andatthetopofthehill，afteronlyoneunsuccessfulattempt，which，somehow，terminatedonthegreen，Hoopdrivermounted，andwithastatelyandcautiousrestraintinhispace，andadignifiedcurvatureofpath，beganhisgreatCyclingTouralongtheSouthernCoast。
　　Thereisonlyonephrasetodescribehiscourseatthisstage，andthatis——voluptuouscurves。Hedidnotridefast，hedidnotridestraight，anexactingcriticmightsayhedidnotridewell—
　　—butherodegenerously，opulently，usingthewholeroadandevennibblingatthefootpath。Theexcitementneverflagged。Sofarhehadneverpassedorbeenpassedbyanything，butasyetthedaywasyoungandtheroadwasclear。Hedoubtedhissteeringsomuchthat，forthepresent，hehadresolvedtodismountattheapproachofanythingelseuponwheels。Theshadowsofthetreeslayverylongandblueacrosstheroad，themorningsunlightwaslikeamberfire。
　　Atthecross—roadsatthetopofWestHill，wherethecattletroughstands，heturnedtowardsKingstonandsethimselftoscalethelittlebitofascent。Anearlyheath—keeper，inhisvelveteenjacket，marvelledathisefforts。Andwhileheyetstruggled，theheadofacarterroseoverthebrow。
　　AtthesightofhimMr。Hoopdriver，accordingtohispreviousdetermination，resolvedtodismount。Hetightenedthebrake，andthemachinestoppeddead。Hewastryingtothinkwhathedidwithhisrightlegwhilstgettingoff。Hegrippedthehandlesandreleasedthebrake，standingontheleftpedalandwavinghisrightfootintheair。Then——thesethingstakesolonginthetelling——hefoundthemachinewasfallingovertotheright。
　　Whilehewasdecidinguponaplanofaction，gravitationappearstohavebeenbusy。Hewasstillirresolutewhenhefoundthemachineontheground，himselfkneelinguponit，andavaguefeelinginhismindthatagainProvidencehaddealtharshlywithhisshin。Thishappenedwhenhewasjustlevelwiththeheathkeeper。Themanintheapproachingcartstooduptoseetheruinsbetter。
　　"THATain’tthewaytogetoff，"saidtheheathkeeper。
　　Mr。Hoopdriverpickedupthemachine。ThehandlewastwistedaskewagainHesaidsomethingunderhisbreath。Hewouldhavetounscrewthebeastlything。
　　"THATain’tthewaytogetoff，"repeatedtheheathkeeper，afterasilence。
　　"_I_knowthat，"saidMr。Hoopdriver，testily，determinedtooverlookthenewspecimenonhisshinatanycost。Heunbuckledthewalletbehindthesaddle，togetoutascrewhammer。
　　"Ifyouknowitain’tthewaytogetoff——whaddyerdoitfor？"
　　saidtheheath—keeper，inatoneoffriendlycontroversy。
　　Mr。Hoopdrivergotouthisscrewhammerandwenttothehandle。
　　Hewasannoyed。"That’smybusiness，Isuppose，"hesaid，fumblingwiththescrew。Theunusualexertionhadmadehishandsshakefrightfully。
　　Theheath—keeperbecamemeditative，andtwistedhisstickinhishandsbehindhisback。"You’vebrokenyer’andle，ain’tyer？"hesaidpresently。Justthenthescrewhammerslippedoffthenut。
　　Mr。Hoopdriverusedanasty，lowword。
　　"They’retryingthings，thembicycles，"saidtheheath—keeper，charitably。"Verytrying。"Mr。Hoopdrivergavethenutaviciousturnandsuddenlystoodup——hewasholdingthefrontwheelbetweenhisknees。"Iwish，"saidhe，withacatchinhisvoice，"Iwishyou’dleaveoffstaringatme。"
　　Thenwiththeairofonewhohasdeliveredanultimatum，hebeganreplacingthescrewhammerinthewallet。
　　Theheath—keepernevermoved。Possiblyheraisedhiseyebrows，andcertainlyhestaredharderthanhedidbefore。"You’reprettyunsociable，"hesaidslowly，asMr。Hoopdriverseizedthehandlesandstoodreadytomountassoonasthecarthadpassed。
　　Theindignationgatheredslowlybutsurely。"Whydon’tyourideonaprivateroadofyourownifnooneain’ttospeaktoyou？"
　　askedtheheath—keeper，perceivingmoreandmoreclearlythebearingofthematter。"Can’tnoonemakeapassin’remarktoyou，Touchy？Ain’tIgoodenoughtospeaktoyou？Beenstruckwoodenallofasudden？"
　　Mr。HoopdriverstaredintotheImmensityoftheFuture。Hewasrigidwithemotion。ItwaslikeabusingtheLionsinTrafalgarSquare。Buttheheathkeeperfelthishonourwasatstake。
　　"Don’tyoumakenoremarksto’IM，"saidthekeeperasthecartercameupbroadsidetothem。"’E’sabloomin’dook，’eis。’Edon’tconversewithnooneunderaearl。’E’sofftoWindsor，’eis;
　　that’swhy’e’sstickin’hisbe’indoutsohaughty。Pride！Why，’e’sgotsomuchofit，’ehastocarrysomeofitinthattherebundlethere，forfear’e’dbustif’edidn’teasehisselfabit—
　　—’E——"
　　ButMr。Hoopdriverheardnomore。Hewashoppingvigorouslyalongtheroad，inaspasmodicattempttoremount。Hemissedthetreadleonceandsworeviciously，tothekeeper’simmensedelight。"Nar！
　　Nar！"saidtheheath—keeper。
　　InanothermomentMr。Hoopdriverwasup，andafteroneterrificlurchofthemachine，theheathkeeperdroppedoutofearshot。
　　Mr。Hoopdriverwouldhavelikedtolookbackathisenemy，butheusuallytwistedroundandupsetifhetriedthat。
　　Hehadtoimaginetheindignantheath—keepertellingthecarterallaboutit。Hetriedtoinfuseasmuchdisdainaspossibleintohisretreatingaspect。
　　HedroveonhissinuouswaydownthedipbythenewmereandupthelittlerisetothecrestofthehillthatdropsintoKingstonVale;andsoremarkableisthepsychologyofcycling，thatherodeallthestraighterandeasierbecausetheemotionstheheathkeeperhadarousedrelievedhismindoftheconstantexpectationofcollapsethathadpreviouslyunnervedhim。Torideabicycleproperlyisverylikealoveaffair——chieflyitisamatteroffaith。Believeyoudoit，andthethingisdone;
　　doubt，and，forthelifeofyou，youcannot。
　　Nowyoumayperhapsimaginethatasherodeon，hisfeelingstowardstheheath—keeperwereeithervindictiveorremorseful，——vindictivefortheaggravationorremorsefulforhisowninjudiciousdisplayofilltemper。Asamatteroffact，theywerenothingofthesort。Asudden，awonderfulgratitude，possessedhim。TheGloryoftheHolidayshadresumeditsswaywithasuddenaccessionofsplendour。Atthecrestofthehillheputhisfeetuponthefootrests，andnowridingmoderatelystraight，went，withapalpitatingbrake，downthatexcellentdescent。Anewdelightwasinhiseyes，quiteoverandabovethepleasureofrushingthroughthekeen，sweet，morningair。Hereachedouthisthumbandtwangedhisbelloutofsheerhappiness。
　　"’He’sabloomin’Dook——heis！’"saidMr。Hoopdrivertohimself，inasoftundertone，ashewentsoaringdownthehill，andagain，"’He’sabloomin’Dook！"’Heopenedhismouthinasilentlaugh。
　　Itwashavingadecentcutdidit。Hissocialsuperiorityhadbeensoevidentthatevenamanlikethatnoticedit。NomoreManchesterDepartmentfortendays！OutofManchester，aMan。ThedraperHoopdriver，theHand，hadvanishedfromexistence。Insteadwasagentleman，amanofpleasure，withafive—poundnote，twosovereigns，andsomesilveratvariousconvenientpointsofhisperson。AtanyrateasgoodasaDook，ifnotpreciselyinthepeerage。InvoluntarilyatthethoughtofhisfundsHoopdriver’srighthandleftthehandleandsoughthisbreastpocket，tobeimmediatelyrecalledbyaviolentswoopofthemachinetowardsthecemetery。Whirroo！Justmissedthathalf—brick！Mischievousbrutestherewereintheworldtoputsuchathingintheroad。
　　Someblooming’Arryorother！Oughttoprosecuteafewoftheseroughs，andtherestwouldknowbetter。Thatmustbethebuckleofthewalletwasrattlingonthemud—guard。Howcheerfullythewheelsbuzzed！
　　Thecemeterywasverysilentandpeaceful，buttheValewaswaking，andwindowsrattledandsqueakedup，andawhitedogcameoutofoneofthehousesandyelpedathim。Hegotoff，ratherbreathless，atthefootofKingstonHill，andpushedup。Halfwayup，anearlymilkchariotrattledbyhim;twodirtymenwithbundlescamehurryingdown。Hoopdriverfeltsuretheywereburglars，carryinghometheswag。
　　ItwasupKingstonHillthathefirstnoticedapeculiarfeeling，aslighttightnessathisknees;buthenoticed，too，atthetopthatherodestraighterthanhedidbefore。Thepleasureofridingstraightblottedoutthesefirstintimationsoffatigue。A
　　manonhorsebackappeared;Hoopdriver，inatumultofsoulathisowntemerity，passedhim。ThendownthehillintoKingston，withthescrewhammer，behindinthewallet，rattlingagainsttheoilcan。Hepassed，withoutmisadventure，afruiterer’svanandasluggishcartloadofbricks。AndinKingstonHoopdriver，withthemostexquisitesensations，sawtheshuttershalfremovedfromadraper’sshop，andtwoyawningyouths，industyoldblackjacketsandwithdirtywhitecomfortersabouttheirnecks，clearinguptheplanksandboxesandwrappersinthewindow，preparatorytodressingitout。EvensohadHoopdriverbeenonthepreviousday。
　　Butnow，washenotabloomin’Dook，palpablyinthesightofcommonmen？Thenroundthecornertotheright——bellbangedfuriously——andsoalongtheroadtoSurbiton。
　　WhoopforFreedomandAdventure！Everynowandthenahousewithanexpressionofsleepysurprisewouldopenitseyeashepassed，andtotherightofhimforamileorsothewelteringThamesflashedandglittered。Talkofyourjoiedevivre。Albeitwithacertaincrampingsensationaboutthekneesandcalvesslowlyforcingitselfuponhisattention。
　　THESHAMEFULEPISODEOFTHEYOUNGLADYINGREY
　　V
　　NowyoumustunderstandthatMr。Hoopdriverwasnotoneofyourfastyoungmen。IfhehadbeenKingLemuel，hecouldnothaveprofitedmorebyhismother’sinstructions。Heregardedthefemininesexassomethingtobowtoandsmirkatfromasafedistance。Yearsoftheintimateremotenessofacounterleavetheirmarkuponaman。ItwasanadventureforhimtotakeoneoftheYoungLadiesoftheestablishmenttochurchonaSunday。Fewmodernyoungmencouldhavemeritedlesstheepithet"Dorg。"ButIhavethoughtattimesthathismachinemayhavehadsomethingofthebladeinitsmetal。Decidedlyitwasamachinewithapast。Mr。Hoopdriverhadboughtitsecond—handfromHare’sinPutney，andHaresaidithadhadseveralowners。Second—handwasscarcelythewordforit，andElarewasmildlypuzzledthatheshouldbesellingsuchanantiquity。Hesaiditwasperfectlysound，ifalittleold—fashioned，buthewasabsolutelysilentaboutitsmoralcharacter。Itmayevenhavebegunitscareerwithapoet，say，inhisgloriousyouth。ItmayhavebeenthebicycleofaReallyBadMan。Noonewhohaseverriddenacycleofanykindbutwillwitnessthatthethingsareunaccountablypronetopickupbadhabits——andkeepthem。
　　ItisundeniablethatitbecameconvulsedwiththemostviolentemotionsdirectlytheYoungLadyinGreyappeared。ItbegananabsolutelyunprecedentedWabble——unprecedentedsofarasHoopdriver’sexperiencewent。It"showedoff"——themostdecadentsinuosity。ItleftatracklikeoneofBeardsley’sfeathers。Hesuddenlyrealised，too，thathiscapwaslooseonhisheadandhisbreathamereremnant。
　　TheYoungLadyinGreywasalsoridingabicycle。Shewasdressedinabeautifulbluish—gray，andthesunbehindherdrewheroutlineingoldandlefttherestinshadow。Hoopdriverwasdimlyawarethatshewasyoung，ratherslender，dark，andwithabrightcolourandbrighteyes。Strangedoubtspossessedhimastothenatureofhernethercostume。Hehadheardofsuchthingsofcourse。French，perhaps。Herhandlesglittered;ajetofsunlightsplashedoffherbellblindingly。ShewasapproachingthehighroadalonganaffluentfromthevillasofSurbiton。feeroadsconvergedslantingly。ShewastravellingataboutthesamepaceasMr。Hoopdriver。Theappearancespointedtoameetingattheforkoftheroads。
　　Hoopdriverwasseizedwithahorribleconflictofdoubts。Bycontrastwithherherodedisgracefully。Hadhenotbettergetoffatonceandpretendsomethingwaswrongwithhistreadle？
　　Yeteventheendofgettingoffwasanuncertainty。ThatlastoccasiononPutneyHeath！Ontheotherhand，whatwouldhappenifhekepton？Togoveryslowseemedtheabnegationofhismanhood。Tocrawlafteramereschoolgirl！Besides，shewasnotridingveryfast。Ontheotherhand，tothrusthimselfinfrontofher，consumingtheroadinhistendril—likeadvance，seemedanincivility——greed。Hewouldleavehersuchaverylittle。Hisbusinesstrainingmadehimpronetobowandstepaside。Ifonlyonecouldtakeone’shandsoffthehandles，onemightpasswithasilentelevationofthehat，ofcourse。Buteventhatwasalittlesuggestiveofafuneral。
　　Meanwhiletheroadsconverged。Shewaslookingathim。Shewasflushed，alittlethin，andhadverybrighteyes。Herredlipsfellapart。Shemayhavebeenridinghard，butitlookeduncommonlylikeafaintsmile。Andthethingswere——yes！——
　　RATIONALS！Suddenlyanimpulsetoboltfromthesituationbecameclamorous。Mr。Hoopdriverpedalledconvulsively，intendingtopassher。Hejerkedagainstsometinthingontheroad，anditflewupbetweenfrontwheelandmud—guard。Hetwistedroundtowardsher。Hadthemachineadevil？
　　Atthatsuprememomentitcameacrosshimthathewouldhavedonewisertodismount。Hegaveafrantic’whoop’andtriedtogetround，then，asheseemedfallingover，hepulledthehandlesstraightagainandtotheleftbyaninstinctivemotion，andshotbehindherhindwheel，missingherbyahair’sbreadth。Thepavementkerbawaitedhim。Hetriedtorecover，andfoundhimselfjumpeduponthepavementandridingsquarelyataneatwoodenpaling。Hestruckthiswithaterrificimpactandshotforwardoffhissaddleintoaclumsyentanglement。Thenhebegantotumbleoversideways，andcompletedtheentirefigureinasittingpositiononthegravel，withhisfeetbetweentheforkandthestayofthemachine。Theconcussiononthegravelshookhisentirebeing。Heremainedinthatposition，wishingthathehadbrokenhisneck，wishingevenmoreheartilythathehadneverbeenborn。Thegloryoflifehaddeparted。Bloomin’Dook，indeed！
　　Theseunwomanlywomen！
　　Therewasasoftwhirr，theclickofabrake，twofootfalls，andtheYoungLadyinGreystoodholdinghermachine。Shehadturnedroundandcomebacktohim。Thewarmsunlightnowwasinherface。"Areyouhurt？"shesaid。Shehadapretty，clear，girlishvoice。Shewasreallyveryyoung——quiteagirl，infact。Androdesowell！Itwasabitterdraught。
　　Mr。Hoopdriverstoodupatonce。"Notabit，"hesaid，alittleruefully。HebecamepainfullyawarethatlargepatchesofgravelscarcelyimprovetheappearanceofaNorfolksuit。"I’mverysorryindeed——"
　　"It’smyfault，"shesaid，interruptingandsosavinghimontheveryvergeofcallingher’Miss。’（Heknew’Miss’waswrong，butitwasdeep—seatedhabitwithhim。）"Itriedtopassyouonthewrongside。"Herfaceandeyesseemedallalive。"It’smyplacetobesorry。"
　　"Butitwasmysteering——"
　　"IoughttohaveseenyouwereaNovice"——withatouchofsuperiority。"Butyourodesostraightcomingalongthere！"
　　Shereallywas——dashedpretty。Mr。Hoopdriver’sfeelingspassedthenadir。Whenhespokeagaintherewasthefaintestflavourofthearistocraticinhisvoice。
　　"It’smyfirstride，asamatteroffact。Butthat’snoexcuseformyah！blundering——"
　　"Yourfinger’sbleeding，"shesaid，abruptly。
　　Hesawhisknucklewasbarked。"Ididn’tfeelit，"hesaid，feelingmanly。
　　"Youdon’tatfirst。Haveyouanystickingplaster？Ifnot——"Shebalancedhermachineagainstherself。Shehadalittlesidepocket，andshewhippedoutasmallpacketofsticking—plasterwithapairofscissorsinasheathattheside，andcutoffagenerousportion。Hehadawildimpulsetoaskhertostickitonforhim。Controlled。"Thankyou，"hesaid。
　　"Machineallright？"sheasked，lookingpasthimattheprostratevehicle，herhandsonherhandle—bar。ForthefirsttimeHoopdriverdidnotfeelproudofhismachine。
　　Heturnedandbegantopickupthefallenfabric。Helookedoverhisshoulder，andshewasgone，turnedhisheadovertheothershoulderdowntheroad，andshewasridingoff。"ORF！"saidMr。
　　Hoopdriver。"Well，I’mblowed！——TalkaboutSlapUp！"（Hisaristocraticrefinementrarelyadornedhisspeechinhisprivatesoliloquies。）Hismindwaswhirling。Onefactwasclear。Amostdelightfulandnovelhumanbeinghadflashedacrosshishorizonandwasgoingoutofhislifeagain。TheHolidaymadnesswasinhisblood。Shelookedround！
　　Atthatherushedhismachineintotheroad，andbeganahastyascent。Unsuccessful。Tryagain。Confoundit，willheNEVERbeabletogetuponthethingagain？Shewillberoundthecornerinaminute。Oncemore。Ah！Pedal！Wabble！No！Rightthistime！
　　Hegrippedthehandlesandputhisheaddown。Hewouldovertakeher。
　　Thesituationwasprimordial。TheManbeneathprevailedforamomentoverthecivilisedsuperstructure，theDraper。Hepushedatthepedalswitharchaicviolence。SoPalaeolithicmanmayhaveriddenhissimplebicycleofchippedflintinpursuitofhisexogamousaffinity。Shevanishedroundthecorner。HiseffortwasTitanic。Whatshouldhesaywhenheovertookher？Thatscarcelydisturbedhimatfirst。Howfineshehadlooked，flushedwiththeexertionofriding，breathingalittlefast，butelasticandactive！Talkaboutyourladylike，homekeepinggirlswithcomplexionslikecoldveal！Butwhatshouldhesaytoher？Thatwasabother。Andhecouldnotlifthiscapwithoutriskingarepetitionofhispreviousignominy。ShewasarealYoungLady。
　　Nomistakeaboutthat！Noneofyourbloomingshopgirls。（Thereisnogreatercontemptintheworldthanthatofshopmenforshopgirls，unlessitbethatofshopgirlsforshopmen。）Phew！
　　Thiswaswork。Acertainnumbnesscameandwentathisknees。
　　"MayIasktowhomIamindebted？"hepantedtohimself，tryingitover。Thatmightdo。Luckyhehadacardcase！Ahundredashilling——whileyouwait。Hewasgettingwinded。Theroadwascertainlyabituphill。Heturnedthecornerandsawalongstretchofroad，andagreydressvanishing。Hesethisteeth。
　　Hadhegainedonheratall？"Monkeyonagridiron！"yelpedasmallboy。Hoopdriverredoubledhisefforts。Hisbreathbecameaudible，hissteeringunsteady，hispedallingpositivelyferocious。Adropofperspirationranintohiseye，irritantasacid。Theroadreallywasuphillbeyonddispute。Allhisphysiologybegantocryoutathim。Alasttremendouseffortbroughthimtothecornerandshowedyetanotherextentofshadyroadway，emptysaveforabaker’svan。Hisfrontwheelsuddenlyshriekedaloud。"OhLord！"saidHoopdriver，relaxing。
　　Anyhowshewasnotinsight。Hegotoffunsteadily，andforamomenthislegsfeltlikewispsofcotton。Hebalancedhismachineagainstthegrassyedgeofthepathandsatdownpanting。
　　Hishandsweregnarledwithswollenveinsandshakingpalpably，hisbreathcameviscid。
　　"I’mhardlyintrainingyet，"heremarked。Hislegshadgoneleaden。"Idon’tfeelasthoughI’dhadamouthfulofbreakfast。"
　　Presentlyheslappedhissidepocketandproducedtherefromabrand—newcigarettecaseandapacketofVansittart’sRedHerringcigarettes。Hefilledthecase。Thenhiseyefellwithasuddenapprovalontheornamentalchequeringofhisnewstockings。Theexpressioninhiseyesfadedslowlytoabstractmeditation。
　　"SheWASastunninggirl，"hesaid。"IwonderifIshalleverseteyesonheragain。Andsheknewhowtoride，too！Wonderwhatshethoughtofme。"
　　Thephrase’bloomin’Dook’floatedintohismindwithacertainflavourofcomfort。
　　Helitacigarette，andsatsmokingandmeditating。Hedidnotevenlookupwhenvehiclespassed。Itwasperhapstenminutesbeforeherousedhimself。"Whatrotitis！What’sthegoodofthinkingsuchthings，"hesaid。"I’monlyablesseddraper’sassistant。"（Tobeexact，hedidnotsayblessed。Theserviceofashopmaypolishaman’sexteriorways，butthe’prentices’
　　dormitoryisanindifferentschoolforeithermannersormorals。）
　　HestoodupandbeganwheelinghismachinetowardsEsher。Itwasgoingtobeabeautifulday，andthehedgesandtreesandtheopencountrywereallglorioustohistown—tiredeyes。Butitwasalittledifferentfromtheelationofhisstart。
　　"Lookatthegentlemanwizzerbicitle，"saidanursemaidonthepathtoapersonageinaperambulator。Thathealedhimalittle。
　　"’Gentlemanwizzerbicitle，’——’bloomin’Dook’——Ican’tlooksoveryseedy，"hesaidtohimself。
　　"IWONDER——Ishouldjustliketoknow——"
　　TherewassomethingverycomfortinginthetrackofHERpneumaticrunningstraightandsteadyalongtheroadbeforehim。Itmustbehers。Nootherpneumatichadbeenalongtheroadthatmorning。Itwasjustpossible，ofcourse，thathemightseeheroncemore——
　　comingback。Shouldhetryandsaysomethingsmart？Hespeculatedwhatmannerofgirlshemightbe。ProbablyshewasoneofthesehereNewWomen。Hehadapersuasiontheculthadbeenmaligned。
　　AnyhowshewasaLady。Andrichpeople，too！Hermachinecouldn’thavecostmuchundertwentypounds。Hismindcameroundanddweltsometimeonhervisibleself。Rationaldressdidn’tlookabitunwomanly。However，hedisdainedtobeoneofyourfortunehunters。Thenhisthoughtsdroveoffatatangent。Hewouldcertainlyhavetogetsomethingtoeatatthenextpublichouse。
　　ONTHEROADTORIPLEY
　　VI
　　Inthefulnessoftime，Mr。HoopdriverdrewneartheMarquisofGranbyatEsher，andashecameundertherailwayarchandsawtheinninfrontofhim，hemountedhismachineagainandrodebravelyuptothedoorway。Burtonandbiscuitandcheesehehad，which，indeed，isBurtoninitspropercompany;andashewaseatingtherecameamiddleagedmaninadrabcyclingsuit，veryredandmoistandangryintheface，andaskedbitterlyforalemonsquash。Andhesatdownupontheseatinthebarandmoppedhisface。Butscarcelyhadhesatdownbeforehegotupagainandstaredoutofthedoorway。
　　"Damn！"saidhe。Then，"DamnedFool！"
　　"Eigh？"saidMr。Hoopdriver，lookingroundsuddenlywithapieceofcheeseinhischeek。
　　Themanindrabfacedhim。"IcalledmyselfaDamnedFool，sir。
　　Haveyouanyobjections？"
　　"Oh！——None。None，"saidMr。Hoopdriver。"Ithoughtyouspoketome。Ididn’thearwhatyousaid。"
　　"Tohaveacontemplativedispositionandanenergetictemperament，sir，ishell。Hell，Itellyou。Acontemplativedispositionandaphlegmatictemperament，allverywell。Butenergyandphilosophy——！"
　　Mr。Hoopdriverlookedasintelligentashecould，butsaidnothing。
　　"There’snohurry，sir，nonewhatever。Icameoutforexercise，gentleexercise，andtonoticethesceneryandtobotanise。AndnosoonerdoIgetontheaccursedmachine，thanoffIgohammerandtongs;Ineverlooktorightorleft，nevernoticeaflower，neverseeaview，gethot，juicy，red，——likeagrilledchop。HereIam，sir。ComefromGuildfordinsomethingunderthehour。WHY，sir？"
　　Mr。Hoopdrivershookhishead。
　　"BecauseI’madamnedfool，sir。BecauseI’vereservoirsandreservoirsofmuscularenergy，andoneorotherofthemisalwaysleaking。It’samostinterestingroad，birdsandtrees，I’venodoubt，andwaysideflowers，andthere’snothingIshouldenjoymorethanwatchingthem。ButIcan’t。Getmeonthatmachine，andIhavetogo。Getmeonanything，andIhavetogo。AndIdon’twanttogoabit。WHYshouldamanrushaboutlikearocket，allpaceandfizzle？Why？Itmakesmefurious。Icanassureyou，sir，Igoscorchingalongtheroad，andcursingaloudatmyselffordoingit。Aquiet，dignified，philosophicalman，that’swhatI
　　am——atbottom;andhereIamdancingwithrageandswearinglikeadrunkentinkerataperfectstranger——
　　"Butmyday’swasted。I’velostallthatcountryroad，andnowI’monthefringeofLondon。AndImighthaveloiteredallthemorning！Ugh！ThankHeaven，sir，youhavenottheirritabletemperament，thatyouarenotgoadedtomadnessbyyourendogenoussneers，bytheeternalwranglingofanuncomfortablesoulandbody。Itellyou，Ileadacatanddoglife——ButwhatIS
　　theuseoftalking？——It’sallofapiece！"
　　Hetossedhisheadwithunspeakableself—disgust，pitchedthelemonsquashintohismouth，paidforit，andwithoutanyfurtherremarkstrodetothedoor。Mr。Hoopdriverwasstillwonderingwhattosaywhenhisinterlocutorvanished。Therewasanoiseofafootspurningthegravel，andwhenMr。Hoopdriverreachedthedoorway，themanindrabwasascoreofyardsLondonward。Hehadalreadygatheredpace。Hepedalledwithill—suppressedanger，andhisheadwasgoingdown。Inanothermomentheflewswiftlyoutofsightundertherailwayarch，andMr。Hoopdriversawhimnomore。

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