In his college days of athletic2 exercises, Mr. Crisparkle had known professors of the Noble Art of fisticuffs, and had attended two or three of their gloved gatherings3. He had now an opportunity of observing that as to the phrenological formation of the backs of their heads, the Professing4 Philanthropists were uncommonly5 like the Pugilists. In the development of all those organs which constitute, or attend, a propensity6 to ‘pitch into’ your fellow-creatures, the Philanthropists were remarkably7 favoured. There were several Professors passing in and out, with exactly the aggressive air upon them of being ready for a turn-up with any Novice8 who might happen to be on hand, that Mr. Crisparkle well remembered in the circles of the Fancy. Preparations were in progress for a moral little Mill somewhere on the rural circuit, and other Professors were backing this or that Heavy–Weight as good for such or such speech-making hits, so very much after the manner of the sporting publicans, that the intended Resolutions might have been Rounds. In an official manager of these displays much celebrated9 for his platform tactics, Mr. Crisparkle recognised (in a suit of black) the counterpart of a deceased benefactor10 of his species, an eminent11 public character, once known to fame as Frosty-faced Fogo, who in days of yore superintended the formation of the magic circle with the ropes and stakes. There were only three conditions of resemblance wanting between these Professors and those. Firstly, the Philanthropists were in very bad training: much too fleshy, and presenting, both in face and figure, a superabundance of what is known to Pugilistic Experts as Suet Pudding. Secondly12, the Philanthropists had not the good temper of the Pugilists, and used worse language. Thirdly, their fighting code stood in great need of revision, as empowering them not only to bore their man to the ropes, but to bore him to the confines of distraction13; also to hit him when he was down, hit him anywhere and anyhow, kick him, stamp upon him, gouge14 him, and maul him behind his back without mercy. In these last particulars the Professors of the Noble Art were much nobler than the Professors of Philanthropy.
Mr. Crisparkle was so completely lost in musing15 on these similarities and dissimilarities, at the same time watching the crowd which came and went by, always, as it seemed, on errands of antagonistically16 snatching something from somebody, and never giving anything to anybody, that his name was called before he heard it. On his at length responding, he was shown by a miserably17 shabby and underpaid stipendiary Philanthropist (who could hardly have done worse if he had taken service with a declared enemy of the human race) to Mr. Honeythunder’s room.
‘Sir,’ said Mr. Honeythunder, in his tremendous voice, like a schoolmaster issuing orders to a boy of whom he had a bad opinion, ‘sit down.’
Mr. Crisparkle seated himself.
Mr. Honeythunder having signed the remaining few score of a few thousand circulars, calling upon a corresponding number of families without means to come forward, stump19 up instantly, and be Philanthropists, or go to the Devil, another shabby stipendiary Philanthropist (highly disinterested20, if in earnest) gathered these into a basket and walked off with them.
‘Now, Mr. Crisparkle,’ said Mr. Honeythunder, turning his chair half round towards him when they were alone, and squaring his arms with his hands on his knees, and his brows knitted, as if he added, I am going to make short work of you: ‘Now, Mr. Crisparkle, we entertain different views, you and I, sir, of the sanctity of human life.’
‘Do we?’ returned the Minor22 Canon.
‘We do, sir?’
‘Might I ask you,’ said the Minor Canon: ‘what are your views on that subject?’
‘That human life is a thing to be held sacred, sir.’
‘Might I ask you,’ pursued the Minor Canon as before: ‘what you suppose to be my views on that subject?’
‘By George, sir!’ returned the Philanthropist, squaring his arms still more, as he frowned on Mr. Crisparkle: ‘they are best known to yourself.’
‘Readily admitted. But you began by saying that we took different views, you know. Therefore (or you could not say so) you must have set up some views as mine. Pray, what views have you set up as mine?’
‘Here is a man — and a young man,’ said Mr. Honeythunder, as if that made the matter infinitely23 worse, and he could have easily borne the loss of an old one, ‘swept off the face of the earth by a deed of violence. What do you call that?’
‘Murder,’ said the Minor Canon.
‘What do you call the doer of that deed, sir?
‘A murderer,’ said the Minor Canon.
‘I am glad to hear you admit so much, sir,’ retorted Mr. Honeythunder, in his most offensive manner; ‘and I candidly24 tell you that I didn’t expect it.’ Here he lowered heavily at Mr. Crisparkle again.
‘Be so good as to explain what you mean by those very unjustifiable expressions.’
‘I don’t sit here, sir,’ returned the Philanthropist, raising his voice to a roar, ‘to be browbeaten25.’
‘As the only other person present, no one can possibly know that better than I do,’ returned the Minor Canon very quietly. ‘But I interrupt your explanation.’
‘Murder!’ proceeded Mr. Honeythunder, in a kind of boisterous26 reverie, with his platform folding of his arms, and his platform nod of abhorrent27 reflection after each short sentiment of a word. ‘Bloodshed! Abel! Cain! I hold no terms with Cain. I repudiate28 with a shudder29 the red hand when it is offered me.’
Instead of instantly leaping into his chair and cheering himself hoarse30, as the Brotherhood31 in public meeting assembled would infallibly have done on this cue, Mr. Crisparkle merely reversed the quiet crossing of his legs, and said mildly: ‘Don’t let me interrupt your explanation — when you begin it.’
‘The Commandments say, no murder. NO murder, sir!’ proceeded Mr. Honeythunder, platformally pausing as if he took Mr. Crisparkle to task for having distinctly asserted that they said: You may do a little murder, and then leave off.
‘And they also say, you shall bear no false witness,’ observed Mr. Crisparkle.
‘Enough!’ bellowed32 Mr. Honeythunder, with a solemnity and severity that would have brought the house down at a meeting, ‘E-e-nough! My late wards21 being now of age, and I being released from a trust which I cannot contemplate33 without a thrill of horror, there are the accounts which you have undertaken to accept on their behalf, and there is a statement of the balance which you have undertaken to receive, and which you cannot receive too soon. And let me tell you, sir, I wish that, as a man and a Minor Canon, you were better employed,’ with a nod. ‘Better employed,’ with another nod. ‘Bet-ter em-ployed!’ with another and the three nods added up.
Mr. Crisparkle rose; a little heated in the face, but with perfect command of himself.
‘Mr. Honeythunder,’ he said, taking up the papers referred to: ‘my being better or worse employed than I am at present is a matter of taste and opinion. You might think me better employed in enrolling34 myself a member of your Society.’
‘Ay, indeed, sir!’ retorted Mr. Honeythunder, shaking his head in a threatening manner. ‘It would have been better for you if you had done that long ago!’
‘I think otherwise.’
‘Or,’ said Mr. Honeythunder, shaking his head again, ‘I might think one of your profession better employed in devoting himself to the discovery and punishment of guilt35 than in leaving that duty to be undertaken by a layman36.’
‘I may regard my profession from a point of view which teaches me that its first duty is towards those who are in necessity and tribulation37, who are desolate38 and oppressed,’ said Mr. Crisparkle. ‘However, as I have quite clearly satisfied myself that it is no part of my profession to make professions, I say no more of that. But I owe it to Mr. Neville, and to Mr. Neville’s sister (and in a much lower degree to myself), to say to you that I know I was in the full possession and understanding of Mr. Neville’s mind and heart at the time of this occurrence; and that, without in the least colouring or concealing39 what was to be deplored40 in him and required to be corrected, I feel certain that his tale is true. Feeling that certainty, I befriend him. As long as that certainty shall last, I will befriend him. And if any consideration could shake me in this resolve, I should be so ashamed of myself for my meanness, that no man’s good opinion — no, nor no woman’s — so gained, could compensate41 me for the loss of my own.’
Good fellow! manly42 fellow! And he was so modest, too. There was no more self-assertion in the Minor Canon than in the schoolboy who had stood in the breezy playing-fields keeping a wicket. He was simply and staunchly true to his duty alike in the large case and in the small. So all true souls ever are. So every true soul ever was, ever is, and ever will be. There is nothing little to the really great in spirit.
‘Then who do you make out did the deed?’ asked Mr. Honeythunder, turning on him abruptly43.
‘Heaven forbid,’ said Mr. Crisparkle, ‘that in my desire to clear one man I should lightly criminate another! I accuse no one,’
‘Tcha!’ ejaculated Mr. Honeythunder with great disgust; for this was by no means the principle on which the Philanthropic Brotherhood usually proceeded. ‘And, sir, you are not a disinterested witness, we must bear in mind.’
‘How am I an interested one?’ inquired Mr. Crisparkle, smiling innocently, at a loss to imagine.
‘There was a certain stipend18, sir, paid to you for your pupil, which may have warped44 your judgment45 a bit,’ said Mr. Honeythunder, coarsely.
‘Perhaps I expect to retain it still?’ Mr. Crisparkle returned, enlightened; ‘do you mean that too?’
‘Well, sir,’ returned the professional Philanthropist, getting up and thrusting his hands down into his trousers-pockets, ‘I don’t go about measuring people for caps. If people find I have any about me that fit ’em, they can put ’em on and wear ’em, if they like. That’s their look out: not mine.’
Mr. Crisparkle eyed him with a just indignation, and took him to task thus:
‘Mr. Honeythunder, I hoped when I came in here that I might be under no necessity of commenting on the introduction of platform manners or platform manoeuvres among the decent forbearances of private life. But you have given me such a specimen46 of both, that I should be a fit subject for both if I remained silent respecting them. They are detestable.’
‘They don’t suit you, I dare say, sir.’
‘They are,’ repeated Mr. Crisparkle, without noticing the interruption, ‘detestable. They violate equally the justice that should belong to Christians47, and the restraints that should belong to gentlemen. You assume a great crime to have been committed by one whom I, acquainted with the attendant circumstances, and having numerous reasons on my side, devoutly48 believe to be innocent of it. Because I differ from you on that vital point, what is your platform resource? Instantly to turn upon me, charging that I have no sense of the enormity of the crime itself, but am its aider and abettor! So, another time — taking me as representing your opponent in other cases — you set up a platform credulity; a moved and seconded and carried-unanimously profession of faith in some ridiculous delusion49 or mischievous50 imposition. I decline to believe it, and you fall back upon your platform resource of proclaiming that I believe nothing; that because I will not bow down to a false God of your making, I deny the true God! Another time you make the platform discovery that War is a calamity51, and you propose to abolish it by a string of twisted resolutions tossed into the air like the tail of a kite. I do not admit the discovery to be yours in the least, and I have not a grain of faith in your remedy. Again, your platform resource of representing me as revelling52 in the horrors of a battle-field like a fiend incarnate53! Another time, in another of your undiscriminating platform rushes, you would punish the sober for the drunken. I claim consideration for the comfort, convenience, and refreshment54 of the sober; and you presently make platform proclamation that I have a depraved desire to turn Heaven’s creatures into swine and wild beasts! In all such cases your movers, and your seconders, and your supporters — your regular Professors of all degrees, run amuck55 like so many mad Malays; habitually56 attributing the lowest and basest motives57 with the utmost recklessness (let me call your attention to a recent instance in yourself for which you should blush), and quoting figures which you know to be as wilfully59 onesided as a statement of any complicated account that should be all Creditor60 side and no Debtor61, or all Debtor side and no Creditor. Therefore it is, Mr. Honeythunder, that I consider the platform a sufficiently62 bad example and a sufficiently bad school, even in public life; but hold that, carried into private life, it becomes an unendurable nuisance.’
‘These are strong words, sir!’ exclaimed the Philanthropist.
‘I hope so,’ said Mr. Crisparkle. ‘Good morning.’
He walked out of the Haven at a great rate, but soon fell into his regular brisk pace, and soon had a smile upon his face as he went along, wondering what the china shepherdess would have said if she had seen him pounding Mr. Honeythunder in the late little lively affair. For Mr. Crisparkle had just enough of harmless vanity to hope that he had hit hard, and to glow with the belief that he had trimmed the Philanthropic Jacket pretty handsomely.
He took himself to Staple63 Inn, but not to P. J. T. and Mr. Grewgious. Full many a creaking stair he climbed before he reached some attic64 rooms in a corner, turned the latch65 of their unbolted door, and stood beside the table of Neville Landless.
An air of retreat and solitude66 hung about the rooms and about their inhabitant. He was much worn, and so were they. Their sloping ceilings, cumbrous rusty67 locks and grates, and heavy wooden bins68 and beams, slowly mouldering69 withal, had a prisonous look, and he had the haggard face of a prisoner. Yet the sunlight shone in at the ugly garret-window, which had a penthouse to itself thrust out among the tiles; and on the cracked and smoke-blackened parapet beyond, some of the deluded70 sparrows of the place rheumatically hopped71, like little feathered cripples who had left their crutches72 in their nests; and there was a play of living leaves at hand that changed the air, and made an imperfect sort of music in it that would have been melody in the country.
The rooms were sparely furnished, but with good store of books. Everything expressed the abode73 of a poor student. That Mr. Crisparkle had been either chooser, lender, or donor74 of the books, or that he combined the three characters, might have been easily seen in the friendly beam of his eyes upon them as he entered.
‘How goes it, Neville?’
‘I am in good heart, Mr. Crisparkle, and working away.’
‘I wish your eyes were not quite so large and not quite so bright,’ said the Minor Canon, slowly releasing the hand he had taken in his.
‘They brighten at the sight of you,’ returned Neville. ‘If you were to fall away from me, they would soon be dull enough.’
‘Rally, rally!’ urged the other, in a stimulating75 tone. ‘Fight for it, Neville!’
‘If I were dying, I feel as if a word from you would rally me; if my pulse had stopped, I feel as if your touch would make it beat again,’ said Neville. ‘But I have rallied, and am doing famously.’
Mr. Crisparkle turned him with his face a little more towards the light.
‘I want to see a ruddier touch here, Neville,’ he said, indicating his own healthy cheek by way of pattern. ‘I want more sun to shine upon you.’
Neville drooped76 suddenly, as he replied in a lowered voice: ‘I am not hardy77 enough for that, yet. I may become so, but I cannot bear it yet. If you had gone through those Cloisterham streets as I did; if you had seen, as I did, those averted78 eyes, and the better sort of people silently giving me too much room to pass, that I might not touch them or come near them, you wouldn’t think it quite unreasonable79 that I cannot go about in the daylight.’
‘My poor fellow!’ said the Minor Canon, in a tone so purely80 sympathetic that the young man caught his hand, ‘I never said it was unreasonable; never thought so. But I should like you to do it.’
‘And that would give me the strongest motive58 to do it. But I cannot yet. I cannot persuade myself that the eyes of even the stream of strangers I pass in this vast city look at me without suspicion. I feel marked and tainted81, even when I go out — as I do only — at night. But the darkness covers me then, and I take courage from it.’
Mr. Crisparkle laid a hand upon his shoulder, and stood looking down at him.
‘If I could have changed my name,’ said Neville, ‘I would have done so. But as you wisely pointed82 out to me, I can’t do that, for it would look like guilt. If I could have gone to some distant place, I might have found relief in that, but the thing is not to be thought of, for the same reason. Hiding and escaping would be the construction in either case. It seems a little hard to be so tied to a stake, and innocent; but I don’t complain.’
‘And you must expect no miracle to help you, Neville,’ said Mr. Crisparkle, compassionately83.
‘No, sir, I know that. The ordinary fulness of time and circumstances is all I have to trust to.’
‘It will right you at last, Neville.’
‘So I believe, and I hope I may live to know it.’
But perceiving that the despondent84 mood into which he was falling cast a shadow on the Minor Canon, and (it may be) feeling that the broad hand upon his shoulder was not then quite as steady as its own natural strength had rendered it when it first touched him just now, he brightened and said:
‘Excellent circumstances for study, anyhow! and you know, Mr. Crisparkle, what need I have of study in all ways. Not to mention that you have advised me to study for the difficult profession of the law, specially85, and that of course I am guiding myself by the advice of such a friend and helper. Such a good friend and helper!’
He took the fortifying86 hand from his shoulder, and kissed it. Mr. Crisparkle beamed at the books, but not so brightly as when he had entered.
‘I gather from your silence on the subject that my late guardian87 is adverse88, Mr. Crisparkle?’
The Minor Canon answered: ‘Your late guardian is a — a most unreasonable person, and it signifies nothing to any reasonable person whether he is adverse, perverse89, or the reverse.’
‘Well for me that I have enough with economy to live upon,’ sighed Neville, half wearily and half cheerily, ‘while I wait to be learned, and wait to be righted! Else I might have proved the proverb, that while the grass grows, the steed starves!’
He opened some books as he said it, and was soon immersed in their interleaved and annotated90 passages; while Mr. Crisparkle sat beside him, expounding91, correcting, and advising. The Minor Canon’s Cathedral duties made these visits of his difficult to accomplish, and only to be compassed at intervals92 of many weeks. But they were as serviceable as they were precious to Neville Landless.
When they had got through such studies as they had in hand, they stood leaning on the window-sill, and looking down upon the patch of garden. ‘Next week,’ said Mr. Crisparkle, ‘you will cease to be alone, and will have a devoted93 companion.’
‘And yet,’ returned Neville, ‘this seems an uncongenial place to bring my sister to.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said the Minor Canon. ‘There is duty to be done here; and there are womanly feeling, sense, and courage wanted here.’
‘I meant,’ explained Neville, ‘that the surroundings are so dull and unwomanly, and that Helena can have no suitable friend or society here.’
‘You have only to remember,’ said Mr. Crisparkle, ‘that you are here yourself, and that she has to draw you into the sunlight.’
They were silent for a little while, and then Mr. Crisparkle began anew.
‘When we first spoke94 together, Neville, you told me that your sister had risen out of the disadvantages of your past lives as superior to you as the tower of Cloisterham Cathedral is higher than the chimneys of Minor Canon Corner. Do you remember that?’
‘Right well!’
‘I was inclined to think it at the time an enthusiastic flight. No matter what I think it now. What I would emphasise95 is, that under the head of Pride your sister is a great and opportune96 example to you.’
‘Under all heads that are included in the composition of a fine character, she is.’
‘Say so; but take this one. Your sister has learnt how to govern what is proud in her nature. She can dominate it even when it is wounded through her sympathy with you. No doubt she has suffered deeply in those same streets where you suffered deeply. No doubt her life is darkened by the cloud that darkens yours. But bending her pride into a grand composure that is not haughty97 or aggressive, but is a sustained confidence in you and in the truth, she has won her way through those streets until she passes along them as high in the general respect as any one who treads them. Every day and hour of her life since Edwin Drood’s disappearance98, she has faced malignity99 and folly100 — for you — as only a brave nature well directed can. So it will be with her to the end. Another and weaker kind of pride might sink broken-hearted, but never such a pride as hers: which knows no shrinking, and can get no mastery over her.’
The pale cheek beside him flushed under the comparison, and the hint implied in it.
‘I will do all I can to imitate her,’ said Neville.
‘Do so, and be a truly brave man, as she is a truly brave woman,’ answered Mr. Crisparkle stoutly101. ‘It is growing dark. Will you go my way with me, when it is quite dark? Mind! it is not I who wait for darkness.’
Neville replied, that he would accompany him directly. But Mr. Crisparkle said he had a moment’s call to make on Mr. Grewgious as an act of courtesy, and would run across to that gentleman’s chambers102, and rejoin Neville on his own doorstep, if he would come down there to meet him.
Mr. Grewgious, bolt upright as usual, sat taking his wine in the dusk at his open window; his wineglass and decanter on the round table at his elbow; himself and his legs on the window-seat; only one hinge in his whole body, like a bootjack.
‘How do you do, reverend sir?’ said Mr. Grewgious, with abundant offers of hospitality, which were as cordially declined as made. ‘And how is your charge getting on over the way in the set that I had the pleasure of recommending to you as vacant and eligible103?’
Mr. Crisparkle replied suitably.
‘I am glad you approve of them,’ said Mr. Grewgious, ‘because I entertain a sort of fancy for having him under my eye.’
As Mr. Grewgious had to turn his eye up considerably104 before he could see the chambers, the phrase was to be taken figuratively and not literally105.
‘And how did you leave Mr. Jasper, reverend sir?’ said Mr. Grewgious.
Mr. Crisparkle had left him pretty well.
‘And where did you leave Mr. Jasper, reverend sir?’ Mr. Crisparkle had left him at Cloisterham.
‘And when did you leave Mr. Jasper, reverend sir?’ That morning.
‘Umps!’ said Mr. Grewgious. ‘He didn’t say he was coming, perhaps?’
‘Coming where?’
‘Anywhere, for instance?’ said Mr. Grewgious.
‘No.’
‘Because here he is,’ said Mr. Grewgious, who had asked all these questions, with his preoccupied106 glance directed out at window. ‘And he don’t look agreeable, does he?’
Mr. Crisparkle was craning towards the window, when Mr. Grewgious added:
‘If you will kindly107 step round here behind me, in the gloom of the room, and will cast your eye at the second-floor landing window in yonder house, I think you will hardly fail to see a slinking individual in whom I recognise our local friend.’
‘You are right!’ cried Mr. Crisparkle.
‘Umps!’ said Mr. Grewgious. Then he added, turning his face so abruptly that his head nearly came into collision with Mr. Crisparkle’s: ‘what should you say that our local friend was up to?’
The last passage he had been shown in the Diary returned on Mr. Crisparkle’s mind with the force of a strong recoil108, and he asked Mr. Grewgious if he thought it possible that Neville was to be harassed109 by the keeping of a watch upon him?
‘A watch?’ repeated Mr. Grewgious musingly110. ‘Ay!’
‘Which would not only of itself haunt and torture his life,’ said Mr. Crisparkle warmly, ‘but would expose him to the torment111 of a perpetually reviving suspicion, whatever he might do, or wherever he might go.’
‘Ay!’ said Mr. Grewgious musingly still. ‘Do I see him waiting for you?’
‘No doubt you do.’
‘Then would you have the goodness to excuse my getting up to see you out, and to go out to join him, and to go the way that you were going, and to take no notice of our local friend?’ said Mr. Grewgious. ‘I entertain a sort of fancy for having him under my eye to-night, do you know?’
Mr. Crisparkle, with a significant need complied; and rejoining Neville, went away with him. They dined together, and parted at the yet unfinished and undeveloped railway station: Mr. Crisparkle to get home; Neville to walk the streets, cross the bridges, make a wide round of the city in the friendly darkness, and tire himself out.
It was midnight when he returned from his solitary112 expedition and climbed his staircase. The night was hot, and the windows of the staircase were all wide open. Coming to the top, it gave him a passing chill of surprise (there being no rooms but his up there) to find a stranger sitting on the window-sill, more after the manner of a venturesome glazier than an amateur ordinarily careful of his neck; in fact, so much more outside the window than inside, as to suggest the thought that he must have come up by the water-spout instead of the stairs.
The stranger said nothing until Neville put his key in his door; then, seeming to make sure of his identity from the action, he spoke:
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said, coming from the window with a frank and smiling air, and a prepossessing address; ‘the beans.’
Neville was quite at a loss.
‘Runners,’ said the visitor. ‘Scarlet113. Next door at the back.’
‘O,’ returned Neville. ‘And the mignonette and wall-flower?’
‘The same,’ said the visitor.
‘Pray walk in.’
‘Thank you.’
Neville lighted his candles, and the visitor sat down. A handsome gentleman, with a young face, but with an older figure in its robustness114 and its breadth of shoulder; say a man of eight-and-twenty, or at the utmost thirty; so extremely sunburnt that the contrast between his brown visage and the white forehead shaded out of doors by his hat, and the glimpses of white throat below the neckerchief, would have been almost ludicrous but for his broad temples, bright blue eyes, clustering brown hair, and laughing teeth.
‘I have noticed,’ said he; ‘— my name is Tartar.’
Neville inclined his head.
‘I have noticed (excuse me) that you shut yourself up a good deal, and that you seem to like my garden aloft here. If you would like a little more of it, I could throw out a few lines and stays between my windows and yours, which the runners would take to directly. And I have some boxes, both of mignonette and wall– flower, that I could shove on along the gutter115 (with a boathook I have by me) to your windows, and draw back again when they wanted watering or gardening, and shove on again when they were ship-shape; so that they would cause you no trouble. I couldn’t take this liberty without asking your permission, so I venture to ask it. Tartar, corresponding set, next door.’
‘You are very kind.’
‘Not at all. I ought to apologise for looking in so late. But having noticed (excuse me) that you generally walk out at night, I thought I should inconvenience you least by awaiting your return. I am always afraid of inconveniencing busy men, being an idle man.’
‘I should not have thought so, from your appearance.’
‘No? I take it as a compliment. In fact, I was bred in the Royal Navy, and was First Lieutenant116 when I quitted it. But, an uncle disappointed in the service leaving me his property on condition that I left the Navy, I accepted the fortune, and resigned my commission.’
‘Lately, I presume?’
‘Well, I had had twelve or fifteen years of knocking about first. I came here some nine months before you; I had had one crop before you came. I chose this place, because, having served last in a little corvette, I knew I should feel more at home where I had a constant opportunity of knocking my head against the ceiling. Besides, it would never do for a man who had been aboard ship from his boyhood to turn luxurious117 all at once. Besides, again; having been accustomed to a very short allowance of land all my life, I thought I’d feel my way to the command of a landed estate, by beginning in boxes.’
Whimsically as this was said, there was a touch of merry earnestness in it that made it doubly whimsical.
‘However,’ said the Lieutenant, ‘I have talked quite enough about myself. It is not my way, I hope; it has merely been to present myself to you naturally. If you will allow me to take the liberty I have described, it will be a charity, for it will give me something more to do. And you are not to suppose that it will entail118 any interruption or intrusion on you, for that is far from my intention.’
Neville replied that he was greatly obliged, and that he thankfully accepted the kind proposal.
‘I am very glad to take your windows in tow,’ said the Lieutenant. ‘From what I have seen of you when I have been gardening at mine, and you have been looking on, I have thought you (excuse me) rather too studious and delicate. May I ask, is your health at all affected119?’
‘I have undergone some mental distress,’ said Neville, confused, ‘which has stood me in the stead of illness.’
‘Pardon me,’ said Mr. Tartar.
With the greatest delicacy120 he shifted his ground to the windows again, and asked if he could look at one of them. On Neville’s opening it, he immediately sprang out, as if he were going aloft with a whole watch in an emergency, and were setting a bright example.
‘For Heaven’s sake,’ cried Neville, ‘don’t do that! Where are you going Mr. Tartar? You’ll be dashed to pieces!’
‘All well!’ said the Lieutenant, coolly looking about him on the housetop. ‘All taut121 and trim here. Those lines and stays shall be rigged before you turn out in the morning. May I take this short cut home, and say good-night?’
‘Mr. Tartar!’ urged Neville. ‘Pray! It makes me giddy to see you!’
But Mr. Tartar, with a wave of his hand and the deftness122 of a cat, had already dipped through his scuttle123 of scarlet runners without breaking a leaf, and ‘gone below.’
Mr. Grewgious, his bedroom window-blind held aside with his hand, happened at the moment to have Neville’s chambers under his eye for the last time that night. Fortunately his eye was on the front of the house and not the back, or this remarkable124 appearance and disappearance might have broken his rest as a phenomenon. But Mr. Grewgious seeing nothing there, not even a light in the windows, his gaze wandered from the windows to the stars, as if he would have read in them something that was hidden from him. Many of us would, if we could; but none of us so much as know our letters in the stars yet — or seem likely to do it, in this state of existence–-and few languages can be read until their alphabets are mastered.
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1
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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3
gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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professing
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| 声称( profess的现在分词 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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5
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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6
propensity
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| n.倾向；习性 | |
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7
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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8
novice
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| adj.新手的，生手的 | |
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9
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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10
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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11
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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12
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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13
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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14
gouge
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| v.凿；挖出；n.半圆凿；凿孔；欺诈 | |
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15
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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16
antagonistically
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| adv.敌对地，对抗性地 | |
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17
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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18
stipend
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| n.薪贴；奖学金；养老金 | |
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19
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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20
disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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21
wards
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| 区( ward的名词复数 )； 病房； 受监护的未成年者； 被人照顾或控制的状态 | |
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22
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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23
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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24
candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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25
browbeaten
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| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的过去分词 ) | |
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26
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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27
abhorrent
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| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
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28
repudiate
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| v.拒绝，拒付，拒绝履行 | |
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29
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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30
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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31
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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32
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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33
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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34
enrolling
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| v.招收( enrol的现在分词 )；吸收；入学；加入；[亦作enrol]( enroll的现在分词 )；登记，招收，使入伍（或入会、入学等），参加，成为成员；记入名册；卷起，包起 | |
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35
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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36
layman
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| n.俗人，门外汉，凡人 | |
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37
tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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38
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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39
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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40
deplored
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
compensate
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| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
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42
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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43
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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44
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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45
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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46
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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47
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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48
devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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49
delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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50
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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51
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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52
revelling
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| v.作乐( revel的现在分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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53
incarnate
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| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
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54
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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55
amuck
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| ad.狂乱地 | |
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56
habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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57
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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58
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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59
wilfully
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| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
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60
creditor
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| n.债仅人，债主，贷方 | |
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61
debtor
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| n.借方，债务人 | |
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62
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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63
staple
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| n.主要产物，常用品，主要要素，原料，订书钉，钩环；adj.主要的，重要的；vt.分类 | |
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64
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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65
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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66
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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67
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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68
bins
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| n.大储藏箱( bin的名词复数 )；宽口箱（如面包箱，垃圾箱等）v.扔掉，丢弃( bin的第三人称单数 ) | |
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69
mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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70
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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72
crutches
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| n.拐杖, 支柱 v.支撑 | |
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73
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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74
donor
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| n.捐献者；赠送人；(组织、器官等的)供体 | |
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75
stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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76
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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78
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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79
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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80
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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81
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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82
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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83
compassionately
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| adv.表示怜悯地，有同情心地 | |
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84
despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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85
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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86
fortifying
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| 筑防御工事于( fortify的现在分词 )； 筑堡于； 增强； 强化（食品） | |
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87
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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88
adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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89
perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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90
annotated
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| v.注解，注释( annotate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
expounding
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| 论述，详细讲解( expound的现在分词 ) | |
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92
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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93
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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94
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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95
emphasise
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| vt.加强...的语气，强调，着重 | |
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96
opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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97
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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98
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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99
malignity
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| n.极度的恶意，恶毒；（病的）恶性 | |
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100
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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101
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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102
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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103
eligible
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| adj.有条件被选中的；(尤指婚姻等)合适(意)的 | |
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104
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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105
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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106
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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107
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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108
recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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109
harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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110
musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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111
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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112
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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113
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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114
robustness
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| 坚固性，健壮性；鲁棒性 | |
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115
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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116
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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117
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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118
entail
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| vt.使承担，使成为必要，需要 | |
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119
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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120
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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121
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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122
deftness
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123
scuttle
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| v.急赶，疾走，逃避；n.天窗；舷窗 | |
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124
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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