新小说

第11章（第3页）

weary passenger started to the consciousness of daylight, and

found that the shadows of the night were gone.

He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There

was a ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had

been left last night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet

coppice-wood, in which many leaves of burning red and golden

yellow still remained upon the trees. Though the earth was cold

and wet, the sky was clear, and the sun rose bright, placid, and

beautiful.

“Eighteen years!” said the passenger, looking at the sun.

“Gracious Creator of day! To be buried alive for eighteen years!”

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

Chapter IV

THE PREPARATION

W

hen the mail got successfully to Dover, in the course of