培根修道士和黄铜头像（5）（2/2）
《泰西故事30篇》作者：李汉昭 2017-04-10 17:32
shapes, crucibles for melting metals, and instruments whose use was known only to magicians. While Miles was lost in thought about these strange things a slight noise caused him to look again at the brazen head. Its face still bore the smile that had braced his courage up, and he grew bold enough to speak to it.
“Ah, you head of brass,” he said,“you are nothing but yellow metal. You were made of the old kettles and sword hilts that I brought to my master. How foolish for any one to waste his time in watching you!How silly of my master to starve himself and me, in order to buy brass for your making!A magician like him ought to know better. A snap of his fingers would bring us food and raiment fit for kings; but, instead, he spends his time with you, and we have nought but scraps to eat and rags to wear. Come, Master Brassy-head, out with your secret! And let it be a recipe for my master to tell him how to get rich.”
Just as he spoke the last words a bright flash as of lightning lit up the brazen face, and a low sound like muttering thunder filled the room. The mouth of the image opened, its lips seemed to move, and in a voice scarcely louder than a whisper, it uttered the words—
TIME IS!
Miles grasped his cudgel very hard and stood close by the door, ready to run. But, as the image sat bolted fast to its pedestal, and moved not, he soon grew very brave again.
“Ah, you head of brass,” he said,“you are nothing but yellow metal. You were made of the old kettles and sword hilts that I brought to my master. How foolish for any one to waste his time in watching you!How silly of my master to starve himself and me, in order to buy brass for your making!A magician like him ought to know better. A snap of his fingers would bring us food and raiment fit for kings; but, instead, he spends his time with you, and we have nought but scraps to eat and rags to wear. Come, Master Brassy-head, out with your secret! And let it be a recipe for my master to tell him how to get rich.”
Just as he spoke the last words a bright flash as of lightning lit up the brazen face, and a low sound like muttering thunder filled the room. The mouth of the image opened, its lips seemed to move, and in a voice scarcely louder than a whisper, it uttered the words—
TIME IS!
Miles grasped his cudgel very hard and stood close by the door, ready to run. But, as the image sat bolted fast to its pedestal, and moved not, he soon grew very brave again.