Jimson, a man of inconspicuous costume, but insinuating5 manners, had little difficulty in finding the hireling who had charge of the houseboat, and still less in persuading him to resign his care. The rent was almost nominal6, the entry immediate7, the key was exchanged against a suitable advance in money, and Jimson returned to town by the afternoon train to see about dispatching his piano.
‘I will be down tomorrow,’ he had said reassuringly8. ‘My opera is waited for with such impatience10, you know.’
And, sure enough, about the hour of noon on the following day, Jimson might have been observed ascending11 the riverside road that goes from Padwick to Great Haverham, carrying in one hand a basket of provisions, and under the other arm a leather case containing (it is to be conjectured) the score of Orange Pekoe. It was October weather; the stone-grey sky was full of larks12, the leaden mirror of the Thames brightened with autumnal foliage13, and the fallen leaves of the chestnuts14 chirped15 under the composer’s footing. There is no time of the year in England more courageous16; and Jimson, though he was not without his troubles, whistled as he went.
A little above Padwick the river lies very solitary17. On the opposite shore the trees of a private park enclose the view, the chimneys of the mansion18 just pricking19 forth20 above their clusters; on the near side the path is bordered by willows. Close among these lay the houseboat, a thing so soiled by the tears of the overhanging willows, so grown upon with parasites21, so decayed, so battered22, so neglected, such a haunt of rats, so advertised a storehouse of rheumatic agonies, that the heart of an intending occupant might well recoil23. A plank24, by way of flying drawbridge, joined it to the shore. And it was a dreary25 moment for Jimson when he pulled this after him and found himself alone on this unwholesome fortress26. He could hear the rats scuttle27 and flop28 in the abhorred29 interior; the key cried among the wards30 like a thing in pain; the sitting-room31 was deep in dust, and smelt32 strong of bilge-water. It could not be called a cheerful spot, even for a composer absorbed in beloved toil33; how much less for a young gentleman haunted by alarms and awaiting the arrival of a corpse34!
He sat down, cleared away a piece of the table, and attacked the cold luncheon35 in his basket. In case of any subsequent inquiry36 into the fate of Jimson, It was desirable he should be little seen: in other words, that he should spend the day entirely37 in the house. To this end, and further to corroborate38 his fable39, he had brought in the leather case not only writing materials, but a ream of large-size music paper, such as he considered suitable for an ambitious character like Jimson’s. ‘And now to work,’ said he, when he had satisfied his appetite. ‘We must leave traces of the wretched man’s activity.’ And he wrote in bold characters:
Orange Pekoe.
Op. 17.
J. B. Jimson.
Vocal40 and p. f. score.
‘I suppose they never do begin like this,’ reflected Gideon; ‘but then it’s quite out of the question for me to tackle a full score, and Jimson was so unconventional. A dedication41 would be found convincing, I believe. “Dedicated to” (let me see) “to William Ewart Gladstone, by his obedient servant the composer.” And now some music: I had better avoid the overture42; it seems to present difficulties. Let’s give an air for the tenor43: key — O, something modern! — seven sharps.’ And he made a businesslike signature across the staves, and then paused and browsed44 for a while on the handle of his pen. Melody, with no better inspiration than a sheet of paper, is not usually found to spring unbidden in the mind of the amateur; nor is the key of seven sharps a place of much repose45 to the untried. He cast away that sheet. ‘It will help to build up the character of Jimson,’ Gideon remarked, and again waited on the muse46, in various keys and on divers47 sheets of paper, but all with results so inconsiderable that he stood aghast. ‘It’s very odd,’ thought he. ‘I seem to have less fancy than I thought, or this is an off-day with me; yet Jimson must leave something.’ And again he bent48 himself to the task.
Presently the penetrating49 chill of the houseboat began to attack the very seat of life. He desisted from his unremunerative trial, and, to the audible annoyance50 of the rats, walked briskly up and down the cabin. Still he was cold. ‘This is all nonsense,’ said he. ‘I don’t care about the risk, but I will not catch a catarrh. I must get out of this den1.’
He stepped on deck, and passing to the bow of his embarkation51, looked for the first time up the river. He started. Only a few hundred yards above another houseboat lay moored among the willows. It was very spick-and-span, an elegant canoe hung at the stern, the windows were concealed52 by snowy curtains, a flag floated from a staff. The more Gideon looked at it, the more there mingled53 with his disgust a sense of impotent surprise. It was very like his uncle’s houseboat; it was exceedingly like — it was identical. But for two circumstances, he could have sworn it was the same. The first, that his uncle had gone to Maidenhead, might be explained away by that flightiness of purpose which is so common a trait among the more than usually manly54. The second, however, was conclusive55: it was not in the least like Mr Bloomfield to display a banner on his floating residence; and if he ever did, it would certainly be dyed in hues56 of emblematical57 propriety58. Now the Squirradical, like the vast majority of the more manly, had drawn60 knowledge at the wells of Cambridge — he was wooden spoon in the year 1850; and the flag upon the houseboat streamed on the afternoon air with the colours of that seat of Toryism, that cradle of Puseyism, that home of the inexact and the effete61 Oxford62. Still it was strangely like, thought Gideon.
And as he thus looked and thought, the door opened, and a young lady stepped forth on deck. The barrister dropped and fled into his cabin — it was Julia Hazeltine! Through the window he watched her draw in the canoe, get on board of it, cast off, and come dropping downstream in his direction.
‘Well, all is up now,’ said he, and he fell on a seat.
‘Good-afternoon, miss,’ said a voice on the water. Gideon knew it for the voice of his landlord.
‘Good-afternoon,’ replied Julia, ‘but I don’t know who you are; do I? O yes, I do though. You are the nice man that gave us leave to sketch63 from the old houseboat.’
Gideon’s heart leaped with fear.
‘That’s it,’ returned the man. ‘And what I wanted to say was as you couldn’t do it any more. You see I’ve let it.’
‘Let it!’ cried Julia.
‘Let it for a month,’ said the man. ‘Seems strange, don’t it? Can’t see what the party wants with it?’
‘It seems very romantic of him, I think,’ said Julia, ‘What sort of a person is he?’
Julia in her canoe, the landlord in his wherry, were close alongside, and holding on by the gunwale of the houseboat; so that not a word was lost on Gideon.
‘He’s a music-man,’ said the landlord, ‘or at least that’s what he told me, miss; come down here to write an op’ra.’
‘Really!’ cried Julia, ‘I never heard of anything so delightful64! Why, we shall be able to slip down at night and hear him improvise65! What’ is his name?’
‘Jimson,’ said the man.
‘Jimson?’ repeated Julia, and interrogated66 her memory in vain. But indeed our rising school of English music boasts so many professors that we rarely hear of one till he is made a baronet. ‘Are you sure you have it right?’
‘Made him spell it to me,’ replied the landlord. ‘J-I-M-S-O-N— Jimson; and his op’ra’s called — some kind of tea.’
‘Some kind of tea!’ cried the girl. ‘What a very singular name for an opera! What can it be about?’ And Gideon heard her pretty laughter flow abroad. ‘We must try to get acquainted with this Mr Jimson; I feel sure he must be nice.’
‘Well, miss, I’m afraid I must be going on. I’ve got to be at Haverham, you see.’
‘O, don’t let me keep you, you kind man!’ said Julia. ‘Good afternoon.’
‘Good afternoon to you, miss.’
Gideon sat in the cabin a prey67 to the most harrowing thoughts. Here he was anchored to a rotting houseboat, soon to be anchored to it still more emphatically by the presence of the corpse, and here was the country buzzing about him, and young ladies already proposing pleasure parties to surround his house at night. Well, that meant the gallows68; and much he cared for that. What troubled him now was Julia’s indescribable levity69. That girl would scrape acquaintance with anybody; she had no reserve, none of the enamel70 of the lady. She was familiar with a brute71 like his landlord; she took an immediate interest (which she lacked even the delicacy72 to conceal) in a creature like Jimson! He could conceive her asking Jimson to have tea with her! And it was for a girl like this that a man like Gideon — Down, manly heart!
He was interrupted by a sound that sent him whipping behind the door in a trice. Miss Hazeltine had stepped on board the houseboat. Her sketch was promising73; judging from the stillness, she supposed Jimson not yet come; and she had decided74 to seize occasion and complete the work of art. Down she sat therefore in the bow, produced her block and water-colours, and was soon singing over (what used to be called) the ladylike accomplishment75. Now and then indeed her song was interrupted, as she searched in her memory for some of the odious76 little receipts by means of which the game is practised — or used to be practised in the brave days of old; they say the world, and those ornaments77 of the world, young ladies, are become more sophisticated now; but Julia had probably studied under Pitman, and she stood firm in the old ways.
Gideon, meanwhile, stood behind the door, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid to think of what must follow, racked by confinement78 and borne to the ground with tedium79. This particular phase, he felt with gratitude80, could not last for ever; whatever impended81 (even the gallows, he bitterly and perhaps erroneously reflected) could not fail to be a relief. To calculate cubes occurred to him as an ingenious and even profitable refuge from distressing82 thoughts, and he threw his manhood into that dreary exercise.
Thus, then, were these two young persons occupied — Gideon attacking the perfect number with resolution; Julia vigorously stippling83 incongruous colours on her block, when Providence84 dispatched into these waters a steam-launch asthmatically panting up the Thames. All along the banks the water swelled85 and fell, and the reeds rustled86. The houseboat itself, that ancient stationary87 creature, became suddenly imbued88 with life, and rolled briskly at her moorings, like a sea-going ship when she begins to smell the harbour bar. The wash had nearly died away, and the quick panting of the launch sounded already faint and far off, when Gideon was startled by a cry from Julia. Peering through the window, he beheld89 her staring disconsolately90 downstream at the fast-vanishing canoe. The barrister (whatever were his faults) displayed on this occasion a promptitude worthy91 of his hero, Robert Skill; with one effort of his mind he foresaw what was about to follow; with one movement of his body he dropped to the floor and crawled under the table.
Julia, on her part, was not yet alive to her position. She saw she had lost the canoe, and she looked forward with something less than avidity to her next interview with Mr Bloomfield; but she had no idea that she was imprisoned92, for she knew of the plank bridge.
She made the circuit of the house, and found the door open and the bridge withdrawn93. It was plain, then, that Jimson must have come; plain, too, that he must be on board. He must be a very shy man to have suffered this invasion of his residence, and made no sign; and her courage rose higher at the thought. He must come now, she must force him from his privacy, for the plank was too heavy for her single strength; so she tapped upon the open door. Then she tapped again.
‘Mr Jimson,’ she cried, ‘Mr Jimson! here, come! — you must come, you know, sooner or later, for I can’t get off without you. O, don’t be so exceedingly silly! O, please, come!’
Still there was no reply.
‘If he is here he must be mad,’ she thought, with a little fear. And the next moment she remembered he had probably gone aboard like herself in a boat. In that case she might as well see the houseboat, and she pushed open the door and stepped in. Under the table, where he lay smothered94 with dust, Gideon’s heart stood still.
There were the remains95 of Jimson’s lunch. ‘He likes rather nice things to eat,’ she thought. ‘O, I am sure he is quite a delightful man. I wonder if he is as good-looking as Mr Forsyth. Mrs Jimson — I don’t believe it sounds as nice as Mrs Forsyth; but then “Gideon” is so really odious! And here is some of his music too; this is delightful. Orange Pekoe — O, that’s what he meant by some kind of tea.’ And she trilled with laughter. ‘Adagio molto espressivo, sempre legato,’ she read next. (For the literary part of a composer’s business Gideon was well equipped.) ‘How very strange to have all these directions, and only three or four notes! O, here’s another with some more. Andante patetico.’ And she began to glance over the music. ‘O dear me,’ she thought, ‘he must be terribly modern! It all seems discords96 to me. Let’s try the air. It is very strange, it seems familiar.’ She began to sing it, and suddenly broke off with laughter. ‘Why, it’s “Tommy make room for your Uncle!”’ she cried aloud, so that the soul of Gideon was filled with bitterness. ‘Andante patetico, indeed! The man must be a mere97 impostor.’
And just at this moment there came a confused, scuffling sound from underneath98 the table; a strange note, like that of a barn-door fowl99, ushered100 in a most explosive sneeze; the head of the sufferer was at the same time brought smartly in contact with the boards above; and the sneeze was followed by a hollow groan101.
Julia fled to the door, and there, with the salutary instinct of the brave, turned and faced the danger. There was no pursuit. The sounds continued; below the table a crouching102 figure was indistinctly to be seen jostled by the throes of a sneezing-fit; and that was all.
‘Surely,’ thought Julia, ‘this is most unusual behaviour. He cannot be a man of the world!’
Meanwhile the dust of years had been disturbed by the young barrister’s convulsions; and the sneezing-fit was succeeded by a passionate103 access of coughing.
Julia began to feel a certain interest. ‘I am afraid you are really quite ill,’ she said, drawing a little nearer. ‘Please don’t let me put you out, and do not stay under that table, Mr Jimson. Indeed it cannot be good for you.’
Mr Jimson only answered by a distressing cough; and the next moment the girl was on her knees, and their faces had almost knocked. together under the table.
‘O, my gracious goodness!’ exclaimed Miss Hazeltine, and sprang to her feet. ‘Mr Forsyth gone mad!’
‘I am not mad,’ said the gentleman ruefully, extricating104 himself from his position. ‘Dearest. Miss Hazeltine, I vow105 to you upon my knees I am not mad!’
‘You are not!’ she cried, panting.
‘I know,’ he said, ‘that to a superficial eye my conduct may appear unconventional.’
‘If you are not mad, it was no conduct at all,’ cried the girl, with a flash of colour, ‘and showed you did not care one penny for my feelings!’
‘This is the very devil and all. I know — I admit that,’ cried Gideon, with a great effort of manly candour.
‘It was abominable106 conduct!’ said Julia, with energy.
‘I know it must have shaken your esteem107,’ said the barrister. ‘But, dearest Miss Hazeltine, I beg of you to hear me out; my behaviour, strange as it may seem, is not unsusceptible of explanation; and I positively108 cannot and will not consent to continue to try to exist without — without the esteem of one whom I admire — the moment is ill chosen, I am well aware of that; but I repeat the expression — one whom I admire.’
A touch of amusement appeared on Miss Hazeltine’s face. ‘Very well, I said she, ‘come out of this dreadfully cold place, and let us sit down on deck.’ The barrister dolefully followed her. ‘Now,’ said she, making herself comfortable against the end of the house, ‘go on. I will hear you out.’ And then, seeing him stand before her with so much obvious disrelish to the task, she was suddenly overcome with laughter. Julia’s laugh was a thing to ravish lovers; she rolled her mirthful descant109 with the freedom and the melody of a blackbird’s song upon the river, and repeated by the echoes of the farther bank. It seemed a thing in its own place and a sound native to the open air. There was only one creature who heard it without joy, and that was her unfortunate admirer.
‘Miss Hazeltine,’ he said, in a voice that tottered110 with annoyance, ‘I speak as your sincere well-wisher, but this can only be called levity.’
Julia made great eyes at him.
‘I can’t withdraw the word,’ he said: ‘already the freedom with which I heard you hobnobbing with a boatman gave me exquisite111 pain. Then there was a want of reserve about Jimson —’
‘But Jimson appears to be yourself,’ objected Julia.
‘I am far from denying that,’ cried the barrister, ‘but you did not know it at the time. What could Jimson be to you? Who was Jimson? Miss Hazeltine, it cut me to the heart.’
‘Really this seems to me to be very silly,’ returned Julia, with severe decision. ‘You have behaved in the most extraordinary manner; you pretend you are able to explain your conduct, and instead of doing so you begin to attack me.’
‘I am well aware of that,’ replied Gideon. ‘I— I will make a clean breast of it. When you know all the circumstances you will be able to excuse me.
And sitting down beside her on the deck, he poured forth his miserable112 history.
‘O, Mr Forsyth,’ she cried, when he had done, ‘I am — so — sorry! wish I hadn’t laughed at you — only you know you really were so exceedingly funny. But I wish I hadn’t, and I wouldn’t either if I had only known.’ And she gave him her hand.
Gideon kept it in his own. ‘You do not think the worse of me for this?’ he asked tenderly.
‘Because you have been so silly and got into such dreadful trouble? you poor boy, no!’ cried Julia; and, in the warmth of the moment, reached him her other hand; ‘you may count on me,’ she added.
‘Really?’ said Gideon.
‘Really and really!’ replied the girl.
‘I do then, and I will,’ cried the young man. ‘I admit the moment is not well chosen; but I have no friends — to speak of.’
‘No more have I,’ said Julia. ‘But don’t you think it’s perhaps time you gave me back my hands?’
‘La ci darem la mano,’ said the barrister, ‘the merest moment more! I have so few friends,’ he added.
‘I thought it was considered such a bad account of a young man to have no friends,’ observed Julia.
‘O, but I have crowds of friends!’ cried Gideon. ‘That’s not what I mean. I feel the moment is ill chosen; but O, Julia, if you could only see yourself!’
‘Mr Forsyth —’
‘Don’t call me by that beastly name!’ cried the youth. ‘Call me Gideon!’
‘O, never that,’ from Julia. ‘Besides, we have known each other such a short time.’
‘Not at all!’ protested Gideon. ‘We met at Bournemouth ever so long ago. I never forgot you since. Say you never forgot me. Say you never forgot me, and call me Gideon!’
‘Isn’t this rather — a want of reserve about Jimson?’ enquired113 the girl.
‘O, I know I am an ass9,’ cried the barrister, ‘and I don’t care a halfpenny! I know I’m an ass, and you may laugh at me to your heart’s delight.’ And as Julia’s lips opened with a smile, he once more dropped into music. ‘There’s the Land of Cherry Isle114!’ he sang, courting her with his eyes.
‘It’s like an opera,’ said Julia, rather faintly.
‘What should it be?’ said Gideon. ‘Am I not Jimson? It would be strange if I did not serenade my love. O yes, I mean the word, my Julia; and I mean to win you. I am in dreadful trouble, and I have not a penny of my own, and I have cut the silliest figure; and yet I mean to win you, Julia. Look at me, if you can, and tell me no!’
She looked at him; and whatever her eyes may have told him, it is to be supposed he took a pleasure in the message, for he read it a long while.
‘And Uncle Ned will give us some money to go on upon in the meanwhile,’ he said at last.
‘Well, I call that cool!’ said a cheerful voice at his elbow.
Gideon and Julia sprang apart with wonderful alacrity115; the latter annoyed to observe that although they had never moved since they sat down, they were now quite close together; both presenting faces of a very heightened colour to the eyes of Mr Edward Hugh Bloomfield. That gentleman, coming up the river in his boat, had captured the truant116 canoe, and divining what had happened, had thought to steal a march upon Miss Hazeltine at her sketch. He had unexpectedly brought down two birds with one stone; and as he looked upon the pair of flushed and breathless culprits, the pleasant human instinct of the matchmaker softened117 his heart.
‘Well, I call that cool,’ he repeated; ‘you seem to count very securely upon Uncle Ned. But look here, Gid, I thought I had told you to keep away?’
‘To keep away from Maidenhead,’ replied Gid. ‘But how should I expect to find you here?’
‘There is something in that,’ Mr Bloomfield admitted. ‘You see I thought it better that even you should be ignorant of my address; those rascals118, the Finsburys, would have wormed it out of you. And just to put them off the scent119 I hoisted120 these abominable colours. But that is not all, Gid; you promised me to work, and here I find you playing the fool at Padwick.’
‘Please, Mr Bloomfield, you must not be hard on Mr Forsyth,’ said Julia. ‘Poor boy, he is in dreadful straits.’
‘What’s this, Gid?’ enquired the uncle. ‘Have you been fighting? or is it a bill?’
These, in the opinion of the Squirradical, were the two misfortunes incident to gentlemen; and indeed both were culled121 from his own career. He had once put his name (as a matter of form) on a friend’s paper; it had cost him a cool thousand; and the friend had gone about with the fear of death upon him ever since, and never turned a corner without scouting122 in front of him for Mr Bloomfield and the oaken staff. As for fighting, the Squirradical was always on the brink123 of it; and once, when (in the character of president of a Radical59 club) he had cleared out the hall of his opponents, things had gone even further. Mr Holtum, the Conservative candidate, who lay so long on the bed of sickness, was prepared to swear to Mr Bloomfield. ‘I will swear to it in any court — it was the hand of that brute that struck me down,’ he was reported to have said; and when he was thought to be sinking, it was known that he had made an ante-mortem statement in that sense. It was a cheerful day for the Squirradical when Holtum was restored to his brewery124.
‘It’s much worse than that,’ said Gideon; ‘a combination of circumstances really providentially unjust — a — in fact, a syndicate of murderers seem to have perceived my latent ability to rid them of the traces of their crime. It’s a legal study after all, you see!’ And with these words, Gideon, for the second time that day, began to describe the adventures of the Broadwood Grand.
‘I must write to The Times,’ cried Mr Bloomfield.
‘Do you want to get me disbarred?’ asked Gideon.
‘Disbarred! Come, it can’t be as bad as that,’ said his uncle. ‘It’s a good, honest, Liberal Government that’s in, and they would certainly move at my request. Thank God, the days of Tory jobbery are at an end.’
‘It wouldn’t do, Uncle Ned,’ said Gideon.
‘But you’re not mad enough,’ cried Mr Bloomfield, ‘to persist in trying to dispose of it yourself?’
‘There is no other path open to me,’ said Gideon.
‘It’s not common sense, and I will not hear of it,’ cried Mr Bloomfield. ‘I command you, positively, Gid, to desist from this criminal interference.’
‘Very well, then, I hand it over to you,’ said Gideon, ‘and you can do what you like with the dead body.’
‘God forbid!’ ejaculated the president of the Radical Club, ‘I’ll have nothing to do with it.’
‘Then you must allow me to do the best I can,’ returned his nephew. ‘Believe me, I have a distinct talent for this sort of difficulty.’
‘We might forward it to that pest-house, the Conservative Club,’ observed Mr Bloomfield. ‘It might damage them in the eyes of their constituents125; and it could be profitably worked up in the local journal.’
‘If you see any political capital in the thing,’ said Gideon, ‘you may have it for me.’
‘No, no, Gid — no, no, I thought you might. I will have no hand in the thing. On reflection, it’s highly undesirable126 that either I or Miss Hazeltine should linger here. We might be observed,’ said the president, looking up and down the river; ‘and in my public position the consequences would be painful for the party. And, at any rate, it’s dinner-time.’
‘What?’ cried Gideon, plunging127 for his watch. ‘And so it is! Great heaven, the piano should have been here hours ago!’
Mr Bloomfield was clambering back into his boat; but at these words he paused.
‘I saw it arrive myself at the station; I hired a carrier man; he had a round to make, but he was to be here by four at the latest,’ cried the barrister. ‘No doubt the piano is open, and the body found.’
‘You must fly at once,’ cried Mr Bloomfield, ‘it’s the only manly step.’
‘But suppose it’s all right?’ wailed128 Gideon. ‘Suppose the piano comes, and I am not here to receive it? I shall have hanged myself by my cowardice129. No, Uncle Ned, enquiries must be made in Padwick; I dare not go, of course; but you may — you could hang about the police office, don’t you see?’
‘No, Gid — no, my dear nephew,’ said Mr Bloomfield, with the voice of one on the rack. ‘I regard you with the most sacred affection; and I thank God I am an Englishman — and all that. But not — not the police, Gid.’
‘Then you desert me?’ said Gideon. ‘Say it plainly.’
‘Far from it! far from it!’ protested Mr Bloomfield. ‘I only propose caution. Common sense, Gid, should always be an Englishman’s guide.’
‘Will you let me speak?’ said Julia. ‘I think Gideon had better leave this dreadful houseboat, and wait among the willows over there. If the piano comes, then he could step out and take it in; and if the police come, he could slip into our houseboat, and there needn’t be any more Jimson at all. He could go to bed, and we could burn his clothes (couldn’t we?) in the steam-launch; and then really it seems as if it would be all right. Mr Bloomfield is so respectable, you know, and such a leading character, it would be quite impossible even to fancy that he could be mixed up with it.’
‘This young lady has strong common sense,’ said the Squirradical.
‘O, I don’t think I’m at all a fool,’ said Julia, with conviction.
‘But what if neither of them come?’ asked Gideon; ‘what shall I do then?’
‘Why then,’ said she, ‘you had better go down to the village after dark; and I can go with you, and then I am sure you could never be suspected; and even if you were, I could tell them it was altogether a mistake.’
‘I will not permit that — I will not suffer Miss Hazeltine to go,’ cried Mr Bloomfield.
‘Why?’ asked Julia.
Mr Bloomfield had not the least desire to tell her why, for it was simply a craven fear of being drawn himself into the imbroglio130; but with the usual tactics of a man who is ashamed of himself, he took the high hand. ‘God forbid, my dear Miss Hazeltine, that I should dictate131 to a lady on the question of propriety —’ he began.
‘O, is that all?’ interrupted Julia. ‘Then we must go all three.’
‘Caught!’ thought the Squirradical.
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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nominal
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| adj.名义上的；(金额、租金)微不足道的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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larks
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| n.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的名词复数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的第三人称单数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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15
chirped
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
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16
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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17
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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18
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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19
pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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20
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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21
parasites
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| 寄生物( parasite的名词复数 )； 靠他人为生的人； 诸虫 | |
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22
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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23
recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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24
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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25
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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26
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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27
scuttle
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| v.急赶，疾走，逃避；n.天窗；舷窗 | |
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28
flop
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| n.失败(者)，扑通一声；vi.笨重地行动，沉重地落下 | |
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29
abhorred
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| v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 )；（厌恶地）回避；拒绝；淘汰 | |
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30
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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31
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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32
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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33
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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34
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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35
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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36
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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37
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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38
corroborate
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| v.支持，证实，确定 | |
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39
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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40
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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41
dedication
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| n.奉献，献身，致力，题献，献辞 | |
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42
overture
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| n.前奏曲、序曲，提议，提案，初步交涉 | |
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43
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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44
browsed
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| v.吃草( browse的过去式和过去分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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45
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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46
muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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47
divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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48
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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49
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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50
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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51
embarkation
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| n. 乘船, 搭机, 开船 | |
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52
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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53
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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54
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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55
conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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56
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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57
emblematical
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| adj.标志的，象征的，典型的 | |
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58
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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59
radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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60
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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61
effete
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| adj.无生产力的，虚弱的 | |
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62
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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63
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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64
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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65
improvise
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| v.即兴创作；临时准备，临时凑成 | |
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66
interrogated
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| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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67
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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68
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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69
levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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70
enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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71
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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72
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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73
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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74
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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75
accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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76
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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77
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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78
confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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79
tedium
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| n.单调；烦闷 | |
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80
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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81
impended
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| v.进行威胁，即将发生( impend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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83
stippling
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| n.点刻法，点画v.加点、绘斑，加粒( stipple的现在分词 )；（把油漆、水泥等的表面）弄粗糙 | |
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84
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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85
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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86
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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88
imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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89
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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90
disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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91
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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92
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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93
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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94
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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95
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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96
discords
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| 不和（discord的复数形式） | |
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97
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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98
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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99
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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100
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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102
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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103
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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104
extricating
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| v.使摆脱困难，脱身( extricate的现在分词 ) | |
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105
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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106
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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107
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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108
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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109
descant
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| v.详论，絮说；n.高音部 | |
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110
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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111
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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112
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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113
enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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114
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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115
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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116
truant
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| n.懒惰鬼，旷课者；adj.偷懒的，旷课的，游荡的；v.偷懒，旷课 | |
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117
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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118
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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119
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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120
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121
culled
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| v.挑选，剔除( cull的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
scouting
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| 守候活动，童子军的活动 | |
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123
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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124
brewery
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| n.啤酒厂 | |
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125
constituents
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| n.选民( constituent的名词复数 )；成分；构成部分；要素 | |
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126
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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127
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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128
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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130
imbroglio
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| n.纷乱，纠葛，纷扰，一团糟 | |
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131
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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