Тяжёлые времена

           Whatdotheytakuponthemseln,sir,ifnottodo’t?’

           ‘I’lltellyousomethingtowardsit,atanyrate,’returnedMr.Bounderby.‘WewillmakeanexampleofhalfadozenSlackbridges.We’llindicttheblackguardsforfelony,andget’emshippedofftopenalsettlements.’

           Stephengravelyshookhishead.

           ‘Don’ttellmewewon’t,man,’saidMr.Bounderby,bythistimeblowingahurricane,‘becausewewill,Itellyou!’

           ‘Sir,’returnedStephen,withthequietconfidenceofabsolutecertainty,‘ifyowast’takahundredSlackbridges—awasthereis,andawthenumbertentimestowd—an’wast’sew’emupinseparatesacks,an’sink’eminthedeepestoceanasweremadeereeverdrylandcoomtobe,yo’dleavethemuddlejustwheer’tis.Mischeevousstrangers!’saidStephen,withananxioussmile;‘whenhawenotheern,Iamsure,sineverwecancalltomind,o’th’mischeevousstrangers!’Tisnotbythemthetrouble’smade,sir.’Tisnotwi’them’tcommences.Ihanofavourfor’em—Ihanoreasontofavour’em—but’tishopelessanduselesstodreamo’takinthemfrotheirtrade,’steado’takintheirtradefrothem!Awthat’snowaboutmeinthisroomwereheeraforeIcoom,an’willbeheerwhenIamgone.Putthatclockaboardashipan’packitofftoNorfolkIsland,an’thetimewillgoonjustthesame.So’tiswi’Slackbridgeeverybit.’

           Revertingforamomenttohisformerrefuge,heobservedacautionarymovementofhereyestowardsthedoor.