培根修道士和黄铜头像（5）
《泰西故事30篇》作者：李汉昭 2017-04-10 17:32
培根修道士和黄铜头像（5）
“Oh, certainly, Miles.”
“Then trust me, master. Go and take your rest, and I will watch like a sentinel at his post.”
“I do trust you, Miles. Good night!” And the weary friar went sleepily to his chamber and threw himself upon his bed.
Ⅱ The Watchman
Miles sat down close to the door with his cudgel in his hand. For a while he kept himself awake by looking about at the strange objects which his master used when carrying on his studies. They were not unknown to him, for he had seen them daily when serving the friar’s meals; but now in the dim light of the flickering lamp they seemed to him like uncanny beings ready to pounce upon him and destroy him. He grasped his cudgel with a firmer grip, and looked at the brazen head. The face of the image seemed to be be***ng with a kindly smile, and Miles felt much braver.
“The head cannot hurt me,” he said to himself，“and so why should I fear those other things? No, no, I am not afraid.”
In the farthest corner upon his right was the carefully closed cask in which was stored the wonderful black powder that had so frightened the Oxford professors. Miles crossed himself when he saw it, and drew a little farther away. Then his eyes rested on a strange piece of glass, round like a wagon wheel, through which the friar sometimes looked when studying the stars. On a table close by were flasks of all sizes and
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“Oh, certainly, Miles.”
“Then trust me, master. Go and take your rest, and I will watch like a sentinel at his post.”
“I do trust you, Miles. Good night!” And the weary friar went sleepily to his chamber and threw himself upon his bed.
Ⅱ The Watchman
Miles sat down close to the door with his cudgel in his hand. For a while he kept himself awake by looking about at the strange objects which his master used when carrying on his studies. They were not unknown to him, for he had seen them daily when serving the friar’s meals; but now in the dim light of the flickering lamp they seemed to him like uncanny beings ready to pounce upon him and destroy him. He grasped his cudgel with a firmer grip, and looked at the brazen head. The face of the image seemed to be be***ng with a kindly smile, and Miles felt much braver.
“The head cannot hurt me,” he said to himself，“and so why should I fear those other things? No, no, I am not afraid.”
In the farthest corner upon his right was the carefully closed cask in which was stored the wonderful black powder that had so frightened the Oxford professors. Miles crossed himself when he saw it, and drew a little farther away. Then his eyes rested on a strange piece of glass, round like a wagon wheel, through which the friar sometimes looked when studying the stars. On a table close by were flasks of all sizes and