Mr. Sapsea’s importance has received enhancement, for he has become Mayor of Cloisterham. Without mayors, and many of them, it cannot be disputed that the whole framework of society — Mr. Sapsea is confident that he invented that forcible figure — would fall to pieces. Mayors have been knighted for ‘going up’ with addresses: explosive machines intrepidly8 discharging shot and shell into the English Grammar. Mr. Sapsea may ‘go up’ with an address. Rise, Sir Thomas Sapsea! Of such is the salt of the earth.
Mr. Sapsea has improved the acquaintance of Mr. Jasper, since their first meeting to partake of port, epitaph, backgammon, beef, and salad. Mr. Sapsea has been received at the gatehouse with kindred hospitality; and on that occasion Mr. Jasper seated himself at the piano, and sang to him, tickling9 his ears — figuratively — long enough to present a considerable area for tickling. What Mr. Sapsea likes in that young man is, that he is always ready to profit by the wisdom of his elders, and that he is sound, sir, at the core. In proof of which, he sang to Mr. Sapsea that evening, no kickshaw ditties, favourites with national enemies, but gave him the genuine George the Third home-brewed; exhorting10 him (as ‘my brave boys’) to reduce to a smashed condition all other islands but this island, and all continents, peninsulas, isthmuses11, promontories12, and other geographical13 forms of land soever, besides sweeping14 the seas in all directions. In short, he rendered it pretty clear that Providence15 made a distinct mistake in originating so small a nation of hearts of oak, and so many other verminous peoples.
Mr. Sapsea, walking slowly this moist evening near the churchyard with his hands behind him, on the look-out for a blushing and retiring stranger, turns a corner, and comes instead into the goodly presence of the Dean, conversing16 with the Verger and Mr. Jasper. Mr. Sapsea makes his obeisance17, and is instantly stricken far more ecclesiastical than any Archbishop of York or Canterbury.
‘You are evidently going to write a book about us, Mr. Jasper,’ quoth the Dean; ‘to write a book about us. Well! We are very ancient, and we ought to make a good book. We are not so richly endowed in possessions as in age; but perhaps you will put that in your book, among other things, and call attention to our wrongs.’
Mr. Tope, as in duty bound, is greatly entertained by this.
‘I really have no intention at all, sir,’ replies Jasper, ‘of turning author or archaeologist. It is but a whim18 of mine. And even for my whim, Mr. Sapsea here is more accountable than I am.’
‘How so, Mr. Mayor?’ says the Dean, with a nod of good-natured recognition of his Fetch. ‘How is that, Mr. Mayor?’
‘I am not aware,’ Mr. Sapsea remarks, looking about him for information, ‘to what the Very Reverend the Dean does me the honour of referring.’ And then falls to studying his original in minute points of detail.
‘Durdles,’ Mr. Tope hints.
‘Ay!’ the Dean echoes; ‘Durdles, Durdles!’
‘The truth is, sir,’ explains Jasper, ‘that my curiosity in the man was first really stimulated19 by Mr. Sapsea. Mr. Sapsea’s knowledge of mankind and power of drawing out whatever is recluse20 or odd around him, first led to my bestowing21 a second thought upon the man: though of course I had met him constantly about. You would not be surprised by this, Mr. Dean, if you had seen Mr. Sapsea deal with him in his own parlour, as I did.’
‘O!’ cries Sapsea, picking up the ball thrown to him with ineffable22 complacency and pomposity23; ‘yes, yes. The Very Reverend the Dean refers to that? Yes. I happened to bring Durdles and Mr. Jasper together. I regard Durdles as a Character.’
‘A character, Mr. Sapsea, that with a few skilful24 touches you turn inside out,’ says Jasper.
‘Nay, not quite that,’ returns the lumbering26 auctioneer. ‘I may have a little influence over him, perhaps; and a little insight into his character, perhaps. The Very Reverend the Dean will please to bear in mind that I have seen the world.’ Here Mr. Sapsea gets a little behind the Dean, to inspect his coat-buttons.
‘Well!’ says the Dean, looking about him to see what has become of his copyist: ‘I hope, Mr. Mayor, you will use your study and knowledge of Durdles to the good purpose of exhorting him not to break our worthy27 and respected Choir–Master’s neck; we cannot afford it; his head and voice are much too valuable to us.’
Mr. Tope is again highly entertained, and, having fallen into respectful convulsions of laughter, subsides28 into a deferential29 murmur30, importing that surely any gentleman would deem it a pleasure and an honour to have his neck broken, in return for such a compliment from such a source.
‘I will take it upon myself, sir,’ observes Sapsea loftily, ‘to answer for Mr. Jasper’s neck. I will tell Durdles to be careful of it. He will mind what I say. How is it at present endangered?’ he inquires, looking about him with magnificent patronage31.
‘Only by my making a moonlight expedition with Durdles among the tombs, vaults32, towers, and ruins,’ returns Jasper. ‘You remember suggesting, when you brought us together, that, as a lover of the picturesque33, it might be worth my while?’
‘I remember!’ replies the auctioneer. And the solemn idiot really believes that he does remember.
‘Profiting by your hint,’ pursues Jasper, ‘I have had some day-rambles with the extraordinary old fellow, and we are to make a moonlight hole-and-corner exploration to-night.’
‘And here he is,’ says the Dean.
Durdles with his dinner-bundle in his hand, is indeed beheld34 slouching towards them. Slouching nearer, and perceiving the Dean, he pulls off his hat, and is slouching away with it under his arm, when Mr. Sapsea stops him.
‘Mind you take care of my friend,’ is the injunction Mr. Sapsea lays upon him.
‘What friend o’ yourn is dead?’ asks Durdles. ‘No orders has come in for any friend o’ yourn.’
‘I mean my live friend there.’
‘O! him?’ says Durdles. ‘He can take care of himself, can Mister Jarsper.’
‘But do you take care of him too,’ says Sapsea.
Whom Durdles (there being command in his tone) surlily surveys from head to foot.
‘With submission35 to his Reverence36 the Dean, if you’ll mind what concerns you, Mr. Sapsea, Durdles he’ll mind what concerns him.’
‘You’re out of temper,’ says Mr. Sapsea, winking37 to the company to observe how smoothly39 he will manage him. ‘My friend concerns me, and Mr. Jasper is my friend. And you are my friend.’
‘Don’t you get into a bad habit of boasting,’ retorts Durdles, with a grave cautionary nod. ‘It’ll grow upon you.’
Durdles cautions Mr. Sapsea against boasting
‘You are out of temper,’ says Sapsea again; reddening, but again sinking to the company.
‘I own to it,’ returns Durdles; ‘I don’t like liberties.’
Mr. Sapsea winks40 a third wink38 to the company, as who should say: ‘I think you will agree with me that I have settled his business;’ and stalks out of the controversy41.
Durdles then gives the Dean a good evening, and adding, as he puts his hat on, ‘You’ll find me at home, Mister Jarsper, as agreed, when you want me; I’m a-going home to clean myself,’ soon slouches out of sight. This going home to clean himself is one of the man’s incomprehensible compromises with inexorable facts; he, and his hat, and his boots, and his clothes, never showing any trace of cleaning, but being uniformly in one condition of dust and grit42.
The lamplighter now dotting the quiet Close with specks44 of light, and running at a great rate up and down his little ladder with that object — his little ladder under the sacred shadow of whose inconvenience generations had grown up, and which all Cloisterham would have stood aghast at the idea of abolishing — the Dean withdraws to his dinner, Mr. Tope to his tea, and Mr. Jasper to his piano. There, with no light but that of the fire, he sits chanting choir-music in a low and beautiful voice, for two or three hours; in short, until it has been for some time dark, and the moon is about to rise.
Then he closes his piano softly, softly changes his coat for a pea-jacket, with a goodly wicker-cased bottle in its largest pocket, and putting on a low-crowned, flap-brimmed hat, goes softly out. Why does he move so softly to-night? No outward reason is apparent for it. Can there be any sympathetic reason crouching45 darkly within him?
Repairing to Durdles’s unfinished house, or hole in the city wall, and seeing a light within it, he softly picks his course among the gravestones, monuments, and stony46 lumber25 of the yard, already touched here and there, sidewise, by the rising moon. The two journeymen have left their two great saws sticking in their blocks of stone; and two skeleton journeymen out of the Dance of Death might be grinning in the shadow of their sheltering sentry-boxes, about to slash47 away at cutting out the gravestones of the next two people destined48 to die in Cloisterham. Likely enough, the two think little of that now, being alive, and perhaps merry. Curious, to make a guess at the two; — or say one of the two!
‘Ho! Durdles!’
The light moves, and he appears with it at the door. He would seem to have been ‘cleaning himself’ with the aid of a bottle, jug49, and tumbler; for no other cleansing50 instruments are visible in the bare brick room with rafters overhead and no plastered ceiling, into which he shows his visitor.
‘Are you ready?’
‘I am ready, Mister Jarsper. Let the old ’uns come out if they dare, when we go among their tombs. My spirit is ready for ’em.’
‘Do you mean animal spirits, or ardent51?’
‘The one’s the t’other,’ answers Durdles, ‘and I mean ’em both.’
He takes a lantern from a hook, puts a match or two in his pocket wherewith to light it, should there be need; and they go out together, dinner-bundle and all.
Surely an unaccountable sort of expedition! That Durdles himself, who is always prowling among old graves, and ruins, like a Ghoul — that he should be stealing forth52 to climb, and dive, and wander without an object, is nothing extraordinary; but that the Choir–Master or any one else should hold it worth his while to be with him, and to study moonlight effects in such company is another affair. Surely an unaccountable sort of expedition, therefore!
‘‘Ware that there mound53 by the yard-gate, Mister Jarsper.’
‘I see it. What is it?’
‘Lime.’
Mr. Jasper stops, and waits for him to come up, for he lags behind. ‘What you call quick-lime?’
‘Ay!’ says Durdles; ‘quick enough to eat your boots. With a little handy stirring, quick enough to eat your bones.’
They go on, presently passing the red windows of the Travellers’ Twopenny, and emerging into the clear moonlight of the Monks’ Vineyard. This crossed, they come to Minor54 Canon Corner: of which the greater part lies in shadow until the moon shall rise higher in the sky.
The sound of a closing house-door strikes their ears, and two men come out. These are Mr. Crisparkle and Neville. Jasper, with a strange and sudden smile upon his face, lays the palm of his hand upon the breast of Durdles, stopping him where he stands.
At that end of Minor Canon Corner the shadow is profound in the existing state of the light: at that end, too, there is a piece of old dwarf55 wall, breast high, the only remaining boundary of what was once a garden, but is now the thoroughfare. Jasper and Durdles would have turned this wall in another instant; but, stopping so short, stand behind it.
‘Those two are only sauntering,’ Jasper whispers; ‘they will go out into the moonlight soon. Let us keep quiet here, or they will detain us, or want to join us, or what not.’
Durdles nods assent56, and falls to munching57 some fragments from his bundle. Jasper folds his arms upon the top of the wall, and, with his chin resting on them, watches. He takes no note whatever of the Minor Canon, but watches Neville, as though his eye were at the trigger of a loaded rifle, and he had covered him, and were going to fire. A sense of destructive power is so expressed in his face, that even Durdles pauses in his munching, and looks at him, with an unmunched something in his cheek.
Meanwhile Mr. Crisparkle and Neville walk to and fro, quietly talking together. What they say, cannot be heard consecutively58; but Mr. Jasper has already distinguished59 his own name more than once.
‘This is the first day of the week,’ Mr. Crisparkle can be distinctly heard to observe, as they turn back; ‘and the last day of the week is Christmas Eve.’
‘You may be certain of me, sir.’
The echoes were favourable60 at those points, but as the two approach, the sound of their talking becomes confused again. The word ‘confidence,’ shattered by the echoes, but still capable of being pieced together, is uttered by Mr. Crisparkle. As they draw still nearer, this fragment of a reply is heard: ‘Not deserved yet, but shall be, sir.’ As they turn away again, Jasper again hears his own name, in connection with the words from Mr. Crisparkle: ‘Remember that I said I answered for you confidently.’ Then the sound of their talk becomes confused again; they halting for a little while, and some earnest action on the part of Neville succeeding. When they move once more, Mr. Crisparkle is seen to look up at the sky, and to point before him. They then slowly disappear; passing out into the moonlight at the opposite end of the Corner.
It is not until they are gone, that Mr. Jasper moves. But then he turns to Durdles, and bursts into a fit of laughter. Durdles, who still has that suspended something in his cheek, and who sees nothing to laugh at, stares at him until Mr. Jasper lays his face down on his arms to have his laugh out. Then Durdles bolts the something, as if desperately61 resigning himself to indigestion.
Among those secluded62 nooks there is very little stir or movement after dark. There is little enough in the high tide of the day, but there is next to none at night. Besides that the cheerfully frequented High Street lies nearly parallel to the spot (the old Cathedral rising between the two), and is the natural channel in which the Cloisterham traffic flows, a certain awful hush63 pervades64 the ancient pile, the cloisters65, and the churchyard, after dark, which not many people care to encounter. Ask the first hundred citizens of Cloisterham, met at random66 in the streets at noon, if they believed in Ghosts, they would tell you no; but put them to choose at night between these eerie67 Precincts and the thoroughfare of shops, and you would find that ninety-nine declared for the longer round and the more frequented way. The cause of this is not to be found in any local superstition68 that attaches to the Precincts — albeit69 a mysterious lady, with a child in her arms and a rope dangling70 from her neck, has been seen flitting about there by sundry71 witnesses as intangible as herself — but it is to be sought in the innate72 shrinking of dust with the breath of life in it from dust out of which the breath of life has passed; also, in the widely diffused73, and almost as widely unacknowledged, reflection: ‘If the dead do, under any circumstances, become visible to the living, these are such likely surroundings for the purpose that I, the living, will get out of them as soon as I can.’ Hence, when Mr. Jasper and Durdles pause to glance around them, before descending74 into the crypt by a small side door, of which the latter has a key, the whole expanse of moonlight in their view is utterly76 deserted77. One might fancy that the tide of life was stemmed by Mr. Jasper’s own gatehouse. The murmur of the tide is heard beyond; but no wave passes the archway, over which his lamp burns red behind his curtain, as if the building were a Lighthouse.
They enter, locking themselves in, descend75 the rugged78 steps, and are down in the Crypt. The lantern is not wanted, for the moonlight strikes in at the groined windows, bare of glass, the broken frames for which cast patterns on the ground. The heavy pillars which support the roof engender79 masses of black shade, but between them there are lanes of light. Up and down these lanes they walk, Durdles discoursing80 of the ‘old uns’ he yet counts on disinterring, and slapping a wall, in which he considers ‘a whole family on ’em’ to be stoned and earthed up, just as if he were a familiar friend of the family. The taciturnity of Durdles is for the time overcome by Mr. Jasper’s wicker bottle, which circulates freely; — in the sense, that is to say, that its contents enter freely into Mr. Durdles’s circulation, while Mr. Jasper only rinses81 his mouth once, and casts forth the rinsing82.
They are to ascend83 the great Tower. On the steps by which they rise to the Cathedral, Durdles pauses for new store of breath. The steps are very dark, but out of the darkness they can see the lanes of light they have traversed. Durdles seats himself upon a step. Mr. Jasper seats himself upon another. The odour from the wicker bottle (which has somehow passed into Durdles’s keeping) soon intimates that the cork84 has been taken out; but this is not ascertainable85 through the sense of sight, since neither can descry86 the other. And yet, in talking, they turn to one another, as though their faces could commune together.
‘This is good stuff, Mister Jarsper!’
‘It is very good stuff, I hope. — I bought it on purpose.’
‘They don’t show, you see, the old uns don’t, Mister Jarsper!’
‘It would be a more confused world than it is, if they could.’
‘Well, it would lead towards a mixing of things,’ Durdles acquiesces87: pausing on the remark, as if the idea of ghosts had not previously88 presented itself to him in a merely inconvenient89 light, domestically or chronologically90. ‘But do you think there may be Ghosts of other things, though not of men and women?’
‘What things? Flower-beds and watering-pots? horses and harness?’
‘No. Sounds.’
‘What sounds?’
‘Cries.’
‘What cries do you mean? Chairs to mend?’
‘No. I mean screeches91. Now I’ll tell you, Mr. Jarsper. Wait a bit till I put the bottle right.’ Here the cork is evidently taken out again, and replaced again. ‘There! Now it’s right! This time last year, only a few days later, I happened to have been doing what was correct by the season, in the way of giving it the welcome it had a right to expect, when them town-boys set on me at their worst. At length I gave ’em the slip, and turned in here. And here I fell asleep. And what woke me? The ghost of a cry. The ghost of one terrific shriek92, which shriek was followed by the ghost of the howl of a dog: a long, dismal93, woeful howl, such as a dog gives when a person’s dead. That was MY last Christmas Eve.’
‘What do you mean?’ is the very abrupt94, and, one might say, fierce retort.
‘I mean that I made inquiries95 everywhere about, and, that no living ears but mine heard either that cry or that howl. So I say they was both ghosts; though why they came to me, I’ve never made out.’
‘I thought you were another kind of man,’ says Jasper, scornfully.
‘So I thought myself,’ answers Durdles with his usual composure; ‘and yet I was picked out for it.’
Jasper had risen suddenly, when he asked him what he meant, and he now says, ‘Come; we shall freeze here; lead the way.’
Durdles complies, not over-steadily; opens the door at the top of the steps with the key he has already used; and so emerges on the Cathedral level, in a passage at the side of the chancel. Here, the moonlight is so very bright again that the colours of the nearest stained-glass window are thrown upon their faces. The appearance of the unconscious Durdles, holding the door open for his companion to follow, as if from the grave, is ghastly enough, with a purple hand across his face, and a yellow splash upon his brow; but he bears the close scrutiny96 of his companion in an insensible way, although it is prolonged while the latter fumbles97 among his pockets for a key confided98 to him that will open an iron gate, so to enable them to pass to the staircase of the great tower.
‘That and the bottle are enough for you to carry,’ he says, giving it to Durdles; ‘hand your bundle to me; I am younger and longer-winded than you.’ Durdles hesitates for a moment between bundle and bottle; but gives the preference to the bottle as being by far the better company, and consigns99 the dry weight to his fellow-explorer.
Then they go up the winding100 staircase of the great tower, toilsomely, turning and turning, and lowering their heads to avoid the stairs above, or the rough stone pivot101 around which they twist. Durdles has lighted his lantern, by drawing from the cold, hard wall a spark of that mysterious fire which lurks102 in everything, and, guided by this speck43, they clamber up among the cobwebs and the dust. Their way lies through strange places. Twice or thrice they emerge into level, low-arched galleries, whence they can look down into the moon-lit nave103; and where Durdles, waving his lantern, waves the dim angels’ heads upon the corbels of the roof, seeming to watch their progress. Anon they turn into narrower and steeper staircases, and the night-air begins to blow upon them, and the chirp104 of some startled jackdaw or frightened rook precedes the heavy beating of wings in a confined space, and the beating down of dust and straws upon their heads. At last, leaving their light behind a stair — for it blows fresh up here — they look down on Cloisterham, fair to see in the moonlight: its ruined habitations and sanctuaries105 of the dead, at the tower’s base: its moss-softened red-tiled roofs and red-brick houses of the living, clustered beyond: its river winding down from the mist on the horizon, as though that were its source, and already heaving with a restless knowledge of its approach towards the sea.
Once again, an unaccountable expedition this! Jasper (always moving softly with no visible reason) contemplates106 the scene, and especially that stillest part of it which the Cathedral overshadows. But he contemplates Durdles quite as curiously107, and Durdles is by times conscious of his watchful108 eyes.
Only by times, because Durdles is growing drowsy109. As aeronauts lighten the load they carry, when they wish to rise, similarly Durdles has lightened the wicker bottle in coming up. Snatches of sleep surprise him on his legs, and stop him in his talk. A mild fit of calenture seizes him, in which he deems that the ground so far below, is on a level with the tower, and would as lief walk off the tower into the air as not. Such is his state when they begin to come down. And as aeronauts make themselves heavier when they wish to descend, similarly Durdles charges himself with more liquid from the wicker bottle, that he may come down the better.
The iron gate attained110 and locked — but not before Durdles has tumbled twice, and cut an eyebrow111 open once — they descend into the crypt again, with the intent of issuing forth as they entered. But, while returning among those lanes of light, Durdles becomes so very uncertain, both of foot and speech, that he half drops, half throws himself down, by one of the heavy pillars, scarcely less heavy than itself, and indistinctly appeals to his companion for forty winks of a second each.
‘If you will have it so, or must have it so,’ replies Jasper, ‘I’ll not leave you here. Take them, while I walk to and fro.’
Durdles is asleep at once; and in his sleep he dreams a dream.
It is not much of a dream, considering the vast extent of the domains112 of dreamland, and their wonderful productions; it is only remarkable113 for being unusually restless and unusually real. He dreams of lying there, asleep, and yet counting his companion’s footsteps as he walks to and fro. He dreams that the footsteps die away into distance of time and of space, and that something touches him, and that something falls from his hand. Then something clinks and gropes about, and he dreams that he is alone for so long a time, that the lanes of light take new directions as the moon advances in her course. From succeeding unconsciousness he passes into a dream of slow uneasiness from cold; and painfully awakes to a perception of the lanes of light — really changed, much as he had dreamed — and Jasper walking among them, beating his hands and feet.
‘Holloa!’ Durdles cries out, unmeaningly alarmed.
‘Awake at last?’ says Jasper, coming up to him. ‘Do you know that your forties have stretched into thousands?’
‘No.’
‘They have though.’
‘What’s the time?’
‘Hark! The bells are going in the Tower!’
They strike four quarters, and then the great bell strikes.
‘Two!’ cries Durdles, scrambling114 up; ‘why didn’t you try to wake me, Mister Jarsper?’
‘I did. I might as well have tried to wake the dead — your own family of dead, up in the corner there.’
‘Did you touch me?’
‘Touch you! Yes. Shook you.’
As Durdles recalls that touching115 something in his dream, he looks down on the pavement, and sees the key of the crypt door lying close to where he himself lay.
‘I dropped you, did I?’ he says, picking it up, and recalling that part of his dream. As he gathers himself up again into an upright position, or into a position as nearly upright as he ever maintains, he is again conscious of being watched by his companion.
‘Well?’ says Jasper, smiling, ‘are you quite ready? Pray don’t hurry.’
‘Let me get my bundle right, Mister Jarsper, and I’m with you.’ As he ties it afresh, he is once more conscious that he is very narrowly observed.
‘What do you suspect me of, Mister Jarsper?’ he asks, with drunken displeasure. ‘Let them as has any suspicions of Durdles name ’em.’
‘I’ve no suspicions of you, my good Mr. Durdles; but I have suspicions that my bottle was filled with something stiffer than either of us supposed. And I also have suspicions,’ Jasper adds, taking it from the pavement and turning it bottom upwards116, ‘that it’s empty.’
Durdles condescends117 to laugh at this. Continuing to chuckle118 when his laugh is over, as though remonstrant with himself on his drinking powers, he rolls to the door and unlocks it. They both pass out, and Durdles relocks it, and pockets his key.
‘A thousand thanks for a curious and interesting night,’ says Jasper, giving him his hand; ‘you can make your own way home?’
‘I should think so!’ answers Durdles. ‘If you was to offer Durdles the affront119 to show him his way home, he wouldn’t go home.
Durdles wouldn’t go home till morning;
And then Durdles wouldn’t go home,
Durdles wouldn’t.’ This with the utmost defiance120.
‘Good-night, then.’
‘Good-night, Mister Jarsper.’
Each is turning his own way, when a sharp whistle rends121 the silence, and the jargon122 is yelped123 out:
Widdy widdy wen!
I— ket — ches — Im — out — ar — ter — ten.
Widdy widdy wy!
Then — E— don’t — go — then — I— shy —
Widdy Widdy Wake-cock warning!’
Instantly afterwards, a rapid fire of stones rattles124 at the Cathedral wall, and the hideous125 small boy is beheld opposite, dancing in the moonlight.
‘What! Is that baby-devil on the watch there!’ cries Jasper in a fury: so quickly roused, and so violent, that he seems an older devil himself. ‘I shall shed the blood of that impish wretch126! I know I shall do it!’ Regardless of the fire, though it hits him more than once, he rushes at Deputy, collars him, and tries to bring him across. But Deputy is not to be so easily brought across. With a diabolical127 insight into the strongest part of his position, he is no sooner taken by the throat than he curls up his legs, forces his assailant to hang him, as it were, and gurgles in his throat, and screws his body, and twists, as already undergoing the first agonies of strangulation. There is nothing for it but to drop him. He instantly gets himself together, backs over to Durdles, and cries to his assailant, gnashing the great gap in front of his mouth with rage and malice128:
‘I’ll blind yer, s’elp me! I’ll stone yer eyes out, s’elp me! If I don’t have yer eyesight, bellows129 me!’ At the same time dodging130 behind Durdles, and snarling131 at Jasper, now from this side of him, and now from that: prepared, if pounced132 upon, to dart133 away in all manner of curvilinear directions, and, if run down after all, to grovel134 in the dust, and cry: ‘Now, hit me when I’m down! Do it!’
‘Don’t hurt the boy, Mister Jarsper,’ urges Durdles, shielding him. ‘Recollect yourself.’
‘He followed us to-night, when we first came here!’
‘Yer lie, I didn’t!’ replies Deputy, in his one form of polite contradiction.
‘He has been prowling near us ever since!’
‘Yer lie, I haven’t,’ returns Deputy. ‘I’d only jist come out for my ’elth when I see you two a-coming out of the Kin-freederel. If
I— ket — ches — Im — out — ar — ter — ten!’
(with the usual rhythm and dance, though dodging behind Durdles), ‘it ain’t any fault, is it?’
‘Take him home, then,’ retorts Jasper, ferociously135, though with a strong check upon himself, ‘and let my eyes be rid of the sight of you!’
Deputy, with another sharp whistle, at once expressing his relief, and his commencement of a milder stoning of Mr. Durdles, begins stoning that respectable gentleman home, as if he were a reluctant ox. Mr. Jasper goes to his gatehouse, brooding. And thus, as everything comes to an end, the unaccountable expedition comes to an end — for the time.
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profundity
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| n.渊博；深奥，深刻 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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proprietorship
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| n.所有（权）；所有权 | |
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meritorious
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| adj.值得赞赏的 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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intrepidly
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| adv.无畏地，勇猛地 | |
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tickling
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| 反馈，回授，自旋挠痒法 | |
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exhorting
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| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的现在分词 ) | |
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isthmuses
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| n.地峡( isthmus的名词复数 ) | |
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12
promontories
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| n.岬，隆起，海角( promontory的名词复数 ) | |
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13
geographical
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| adj.地理的；地区(性)的 | |
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14
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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15
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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16
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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17
obeisance
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| n.鞠躬，敬礼 | |
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18
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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19
stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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20
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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21
bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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22
ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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23
pomposity
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| n.浮华；虚夸；炫耀；自负 | |
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24
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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25
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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26
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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27
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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28
subsides
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的第三人称单数 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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29
deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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30
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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31
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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32
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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33
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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34
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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35
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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36
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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37
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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38
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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39
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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40
winks
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| v.使眼色( wink的第三人称单数 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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41
controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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42
grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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43
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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44
specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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45
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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46
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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47
slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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48
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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49
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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50
cleansing
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| n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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51
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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52
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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53
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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54
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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55
dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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56
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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57
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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58
consecutively
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| adv.连续地 | |
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59
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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60
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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61
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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62
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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63
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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64
pervades
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的第三人称单数 ) | |
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65
cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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66
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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67
eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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68
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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69
albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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70
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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71
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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72
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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73
diffused
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| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
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74
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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75
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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76
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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77
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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78
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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79
engender
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| v.产生，引起 | |
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80
discoursing
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| 演说（discourse的现在分词形式） | |
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81
rinses
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| v.漂洗( rinse的第三人称单数 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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82
rinsing
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| n.清水，残渣v.漂洗( rinse的现在分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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83
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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84
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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85
ascertainable
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| adj.可确定（探知），可发现的 | |
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86
descry
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| v.远远看到；发现；责备 | |
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87
acquiesces
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的第三人称单数 ) | |
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88
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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89
inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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90
chronologically
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| ad. 按年代的 | |
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91
screeches
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| n.尖锐的声音( screech的名词复数 )v.发出尖叫声( screech的第三人称单数 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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92
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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93
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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94
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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95
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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96
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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97
fumbles
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| 摸索，笨拙的处理( fumble的名词复数 ) | |
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98
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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99
consigns
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的第三人称单数 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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100
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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101
pivot
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| v.在枢轴上转动；装枢轴，枢轴；adj.枢轴的 | |
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102
lurks
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| n.潜在，潜伏；（lurk的复数形式）vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的第三人称单数形式） | |
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103
nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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104
chirp
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| v.(尤指鸟)唧唧喳喳的叫 | |
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105
sanctuaries
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| n.避难所( sanctuary的名词复数 )；庇护；圣所；庇护所 | |
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106
contemplates
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的第三人称单数 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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107
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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108
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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109
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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110
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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111
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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112
domains
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| n.范围( domain的名词复数 )；领域；版图；地产 | |
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113
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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114
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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115
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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116
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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117
condescends
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的第三人称单数 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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118
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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119
affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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120
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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121
rends
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| v.撕碎( rend的第三人称单数 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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122
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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123
yelped
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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124
rattles
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| （使）发出格格的响声， （使）作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 )； 喋喋不休地说话； 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动，堕下或走动； 使紧张，使恐惧 | |
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125
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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126
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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127
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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128
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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129
bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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130
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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131
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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132
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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133
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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134
grovel
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| vi.卑躬屈膝，奴颜婢膝 | |
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135
ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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