HomeCharles DickensThe Mystery of Edwin Drood

The Mystery of Edwin Drood. Charles Dickens

The choir are getting on their sullied white robes, in a hurry, when he arrives among them, gets on his own robe, and falls into the procession filing in to service. Then, the Sacristan locks the iron-barred gates that divide the sanctuary from the chancel, and all of the procession having scuttled into their places, hide their faces; and then the intoned words, ′WHEN THE WICKED MAN—′ rise among groins of arches and beams of roof, awakening muttered thunder.

CHAPTER II—A DEAN, AND A CHAPTER ALSO

Whosoever has observed that sedate and clerical bird, the rook, may perhaps have noticed that when he wings his way homeward towards nightfall, in a sedate and clerical company, two rooks will suddenly detach themselves from the rest, will retrace their flight for some distance, and will there poise and linger; conveying to mere men the fancy that it is of some occult importance to the body politic, that this artful couple should pretend to have renounced connection with it.

Similarly, service being over in the old Cathedral with the square tower, and the choir scuffling out again, and divers venerable persons of rook-like aspect dispersing, two of these latter retrace their steps, and walk together in the echoing Close.

Not only is the day waning, but the year. The low sun is fiery and yet cold behind the monastery ruin, and the Virginia creeper on the Cathedral wall has showered half its deep-red leaves down on the pavement. There has been rain this afternoon, and a wintry shudder goes among the little pools on the cracked, uneven flag-stones, and through the giant elm-trees as they shed a gust of tears. Their fallen leaves lie strewn thickly about. Some of these leaves, in a timid rush, seek sanctuary within the low arched Cathedral door; but two men coming out resist them, and cast them forth again with their feet; this done, one of the two locks the door with a goodly key, and the other flits away with a folio music-book.

′Mr. Jasper was that, Tope?′

′Yes, Mr. Dean.′

′He has stayed late.′

′Yes, Mr. Dean. I have stayed for him, your Reverence. He has been took a little poorly.′

′Say "taken," Tope—to the Dean,′ the younger rook interposes in a low tone with this touch of correction, as who should say: ′You may offer bad grammar to the laity, or the humbler clergy, not to the Dean.′

Mr. Tope, Chief Verger and Showman, and accustomed to be high with excursion parties, declines with a silent loftiness to perceive that any suggestion has been tendered to him.

′And when and how has Mr. Jasper been taken—for, as Mr. Crisparkle has remarked, it is better to say taken—taken—′ repeats the Dean; ′when and how has Mr. Jasper been Taken—′

′Taken, sir,′ Tope deferentially murmurs.

′—Poorly, Tope?′

′Why, sir, Mr. Jasper was that breathed—′

′I wouldn′t say "That breathed," Tope,′ Mr. Crisparkle interposes with the same touch as before. ′Not English—to the Dean.′

′Breathed to that extent,′ the Dean (not unflattered by this indirect homage) condescendingly remarks, ′would be preferable.′

′Mr. Jasper′s breathing was so remarkably short′—thus discreetly does Mr. Tope work his way round the sunken rock—′when he came in, that it distressed him mightily to get his notes out: which was perhaps the cause of his having a kind of fit on him after a little.

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