Tadano Hydraulic Crane TG-1600M-1_TC-02 470003 Training Manual_JP

Tadano Hydraulic Crane

TG-1600M-1_TC-02 470003 Training
Manual_JP
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** Tadano Hydraulic Crane TG-1600M-1_TC-02 470003 Training Manual_JP**

Size : 5.25 MB Format : djvu Language : Japanese, English Brand: Tadano Type
of machine: Crane Type of document: Training Manual Model: Tadano
TG-1600M-1_TC-02 Hydraulic Crane Series Number: 470003 Number of Pages:
75 Pages
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Whether Mr. Betterton heard them or not, I could not say. He sat
there so still, his slender Hands—white and tapering, the veritable
Hands of an Artist—rested listlessly upon the arms of his chair.

"Through gloomy Clouds to sunlit Skies,

To rest in Faith and your dear Eyes."
So sang the sweet Minstrel out there in the fast gathering Gloom. I
went up to the window and gazed out into the open Vista before
me. Far away I could see the twinkling lights from the windows of
St. James's Palace, and on my right those of White Hall. The Singer I
could not see. He appeared to be some distance away. But despite
the lateness of the hour, the Park was still alive with people. And
indeed as I leaned my Head further out of the Window, I was struck
by the animated spectacle which it presented.
No doubt that the unwonted mildness of this early spring
evening had induced young Maids and Gallants, as well as more
sober Folk and Gentlemen, to linger out in the open. The charm of
the Minstrel and his Song, too, must have served as an additional
Attraction, for as I watched the People passing to and fro, I heard
snatches of Conversation, mostly in praise of the Singer or of the
Weather.
 Anon I espied Sir William Davenant walking with Mr. Killigrew,
and my Lord of Rochester dallying with a pretty Damsel; one or two
more Gentlemen did I recognize as I gazed on the moving Sight,
until suddenly I saw that which caused me to draw my Head back
quickly from the Window and to gaze with added Anxiety on the
listless Figure of my Friend.
What I had seen down below had indeed filled my Heart with
Dread. It was the Figure of my Lord Stour. I could have sworn to it,
even though his Lordship was wrapped in a mantle from Head to
Foot and wore a broad-rimmed Hat, both of which would indeed
have disguised his Person completely before all Eyes save those of
Love, of Hate, or of an abiding Friendship.
 What was my Lord Stour doing at this Hour, and in disguise,
beneath the Window of his bitterest Foe? My Anxiety was further
quickened by the Certainty which I had that neither he nor the Lady
Barbara would allow Mr. Betterton's Schemes to mature without
another Struggle. Even as I once more thrust my Head out of the
Window, in order to catch another glimpse of the moody and solitary
Figure which I had guessed to be Lord Stour, methought that close
by the nearest Shrubbery I espied the Figure of the Lady Barbara, in
close conversation with her Attendant. Both Women were wrapped
in dark Mantles and wore thick veils to cover their Hair.
A dark presentiment of Evil now took possession of my Soul. I
felt like a Watch-dog scenting Danger from afar. The Man whom I
loved better than any other on Earth was in peril of his Life, at the
hands of an Enemy driven mad by an impending Doom—of that I
felt suddenly absolutely convinced. And somehow, I felt equally
convinced at the moment that we—I, the poor, insignificant Clerk, as
well as my illustrious Friend—were standing on the Brink of an
overwhelming Catastrophe.
 I had thought to warn him then and there, yet dared not do so
in so many words. Men in the prime of Life and the plentitude of
their mental Powers are wont to turn contemptuous and obstinate if
told to be on their guard against a lurking Enemy. And I feared that,
in his utter contempt for his Foe, Mr. Betterton might be tempted to
do something that was both unconsidered and perilous.
So I contented myself for the nonce with turning to my Friend,
seeing that he had wakened from his reverie and was regarding me
with that look of Confidence and Kindliness which always warmed
my heart when I was conscious of it, I merely remarked quite
casually:
 "The Park is still gay with Ladies and Gallants. 'Tis strange at
this late hour. But a Minstrel is discoursing sweet Music somewhere
in the distance. Mayhap people have assembled in order to listen to
him."
And, as if to confirm my Supposition, a merry peal of laughter
came ringing right across the Park, and we heard as it were the hum
and murmur of Pedestrians moving about. And through it all the
echo of the amorous Ditty still lingering upon the evening air:
 "For you are Love—and I am yours!"

"Close that window, John," Mr. Betterton said, with an impatient little
sigh. "I am in no mood for sentimental Ballads."
 I did as he desired, and whilst in the act of closing the Window,
I said guardedly:
"I caught sight of my Lord Stour just now, pacing the open
Ground just beneath this Window. He appeared moody and solitary,
and was wrapped from head to foot in a big Mantle, as if he wished
to avoid Recognition."
 "I too am moody and solitary, good Honeywood," was Mr.
Betterton's sole comment on my remark. Then he added, with a
slight shiver of his whole body: "I prithee, see to the Fire. I am
perished with the cold."
I went up to the Hearth and kicked the dying embers into a
Blaze; then found some logs and threw them on the Fire.
 "The evening is warm, Sir," I said; "and you complained of the
Heat awhile ago."
"Yes," he rejoined wearily. "My head is on fire and my Spine
feels like ice."
 It was quite dark in the Room now, save for the flickering and
ruddy firelight. So I went out and bade the Servant give me the
candles. I came back with them myself and set them on the Desk.
As I did so, I glanced at Mr. Betterton. He had once more taken up
his listless Attitude; his Head was leaning against the back of his
Chair, and I could not fail to note how pallid his Face looked and how
drawn, and there was a frown between his Brows which denoted
wearying and absorbing Thoughts. Wishing to distract him from his
brooding Melancholy, I thought of reminding him of certain artistic
and social Duties which were awaiting his Attention.
"Will you send an Answer, Sir," I asked him with well-assumed
indifference, "to the Chancellor? It is on the Subject of the Benefit
Performance in aid of the Indigent Poor of the City of Westminster.
His Lordship again sent a messenger this afternoon."
 "Yes!" Mr. Betterton replied readily enough, and sought amongst
his Papers for a Letter which he had apparently written some time
during the Day. "If His Lordship's Messenger calls again, let him have
this Note. I must arrange for the Benefit Performance, of course. But
I doubt if many members of the Company will care to give their
Services."
"I think that Mr. Robert Noakes would be willing," I suggested.
"Also Mr. Lilleston."
 "Perhaps, perhaps!" he broke in listlessly. "But we must have
Actresses too, and they——"
He shrugged his shoulders, and I rejoined with great alacrity:
 "Oh! I feel sure that Mistress Saunderson would be ready to join
in any benevolent Scheme for the betterment of the Poor."
"Ah! but she is an Angel!" Mr. Betterton exclaimed. And, believe
me, dear Mistress, that those words came as if involuntarily to his
Lips, out of the Fulness of his Heart. And even when he had spoken,
a Look of infinite Sadness swept over his Face and he rested his
Head against his Hand, shading his Eyes from the light of the
Candles, lest I should read the Thoughts that were mirrored therein.
 "There came a messenger, too, this afternoon," I reminded him,
"from Paris, with an autograph Letter from His Majesty the King of
France."
"Yes!" he replied, and nodded his Head, I thought,
uncomprehendingly.
 "Also a letter from the University of Stockholm. They propose
that You should visit the City in the course of the Summer and——"
"Yes, yes! I know!" he rejoined impatiently. "I will attend to it all
another time ... But not to-night, good Honeywood," he went on
almost appealingly, like a Man wearied with many Tasks. "My mind is
like a squeezed Orange to-night."
 Then he held out his Hand to me—that beautiful, slender Hand
of his, which I had so often kissed in the excess of my Gratitude—
and added with gentle Indulgence:
"Let me be to-night, good Friend. Leave me to myself. I am
such poor Company and am best alone."
 I took his hand. It was burning hot, as if with inward Fever. All
my Friendship for him, all my Love, was at once on the alert,
dreading the ravages of some inward Disease, brought on mayhap
by so much Soul-worry.
"I do not relish leaving You alone to-night," I said, with more
gruffness than I am wont to display. "This room is easy of Access
from the Park."
 He smiled, a trifle sadly.
"Dost think," he asked, with a slight shrug of the shoulders,
"that a poor Mountebank would tempt a midnight Robber?"
 "No!" I replied firmly. "But my Lord Stour, wrapped to the eyes
in his Mantle, hath prowled beneath these Windows for an hour."
Then, as he made no comment, I continued with some Fervour: "A
determined Man, who hates Another, can easily climb up to a first
floor Window——"
"Tush, friend!" he broke in sharply. "I am not afraid of his
Lordship ... I am afraid of nothing to-night, my good Honeywood,"
he added softly, "except of myself."