It seemed possible to procure14 almost any amount of leave from the Curragh, and the yeomen delighted to spend it in promenading15 the fashionable streets of the metropolis16. The tea-shops reaped a rich harvest from the regal way in which they treated their female relatives and friends. Indeed, their presence must have seriously disorganized the occupations by which young women earn their living. It was difficult to imagine that the sick in the hospitals could have been properly looked after, or the letters of solicitors17 typewritten, so great was the number of damsels who attached themselves to these attractive heroes. The philosophic18 observer found another curious subject for speculation19 in the fact that this parade of military splendour took place in a city whose population sympathized intensely with the Boer cause, and was accustomed to receive the news of a British defeat with delight. The Dublin artisan viewed the yeomen much as the French in Paris must have looked upon the allied20 troops who entered their city after Waterloo. The very name by which they were called had an anti-national sound, and suggested the performance of other amateur horse-soldiers in Wexford a century earlier.
The little band whose writings filled the pages of the Croppy were more than anyone else enraged21 at the flaunting22 of Imperialism23 in their streets. They had rejoiced quite openly after Christmas, and called attention every week in prose and poetry to the moribund24 condition of the British Empire, even boasting as if they themselves had borne a part in its humiliation25. They were still in a position to assert that the Boers were victorious26, and that the volunteers were likely to do no more than exhaust the prison accommodation at Pretoria. They could and did compose biting jests, but their very bitterness witnessed to a deep disappointment. It was not possible to deny that the despised English garrison27 in Ireland was displaying a wholly unlooked-for spirit. No one could have expected that West Britons and ‘Seonini’ would have wanted to fight. Very likely, when the time came, they would run away; but in the meanwhile here they were, swaggering through the streets of Dublin, outward and visible signs of a force in the country hostile to the hopes of the Croppy, a force that some day Republican Ireland would have to reckon with.
Augusta Goold herself was more tolerant and more philosophic than her friends. She looked at the yeomen with a certain admiration28. Their exuberant29 youthfulness, their strutting30, and their obvious belief in themselves, made a strong appeal to her imagination.
‘Look at that young man,’ she said to Hyacinth, pointing out a volunteer who passed them in the street. ‘I happen to know who he is. In fact, I knew his people very well indeed at one time, and spent a fortnight with them once when that young man was a toddler, and sometimes sat on my knee—at least, he may have sat on my knee. There were a good many children, and at this distance of time I can’t be certain which of them it was that used to worry me most during the hour before dinner. The father is a landlord in the North, and comes of a fine old family. He’s a strong Protestant, and English, of course, in all his sympathies. Well, a hundred years or so ago that boy’s great-grandfather was swaggering about these same streets in a uniform, just as his descendant is doing now. He helped to drag a cannon31 into the Phoenix32 Park one day with a large placard tied over its muzzle—“Our rights or——” Who do you think he was threatening? Just the same England that this boy is so keen to fight for to-day!’
‘Ah,’ said Hyacinth, ‘you are thinking of the volunteer movement of 1780.’
‘Afterwards,’ she went on, ‘he was one of the incorruptibles. You’ll see his name on Jonah Barrington’s red list. He stood out to the last against the union, wouldn’t be bribed33, and fought two duels34 with Castlereagh’s bravoes. The curious thing is that the present man is quite proud of that ancestor in a queer, inconsistent sort of way. Says the only mark of distinction his family can boast of is that they didn’t get a union peerage. Strange, isn’t it?’
‘It is strange,’ said Hyacinth. ‘The Irish gentry35 of 1782 were men to be proud of; yet look at their descendants to-day.’
‘It is very sad. Do you know, I sometimes think that Ireland will never get her freedom till those men take it for her. Almost every struggle that Ireland ever made was captained by her aristocracy. Think of the Geraldines and the O’Neills. Think of Sarsfield and the Wild Geese. Think of the men who wrenched36 a measure of independence from England in 1782. Think of Lord Edward and Smith O’Brien. No, we may talk and write and agitate37, but we’ll do nothing till we get the old families with us.’
Hyacinth laughed. It seemed to him that Miss Goold was deliberately38 talking nonsense, rejoicing in a paradox39.
‘We are likely to wait, if we wait for them. Look at those.’ He waved his hand towards a group of yeomen who were chatting at the street corner. ‘They are going to stamp out a nation in South Africa. Is it likely that they will create one here?’
‘It is not likely’—she sighed as she spoke—‘yet stranger things than that have happened. Have you ever considered what the present English policy in Ireland really is? Do you understand that they are trying to keep us quiet by bribing40 the priests? They think that the Protestants are powerless, or that they will be loyal no matter what happens. But think: These Protestants have been accustomed for generations to regard themselves as a superior race. They conceive themselves to have a natural right to govern. Now they are being snubbed and insulted. There isn’t an English official from their Lord Lieutenant41 down but thinks he is quite safe in ignoring the Protestants, and is only anxious to make himself agreeable to the priests. That’s the beginning. Very soon they’ll be bullied42 as well as snubbed. They will stand a good deal of it, because, like most strong people, they are very stupid and slow at understanding; but do you suppose they will always stand it?’
‘They’re English, and not Irish,’ said Hyacinth. ‘I suppose they like what their own people do.’
‘It’s a lie. They are not English, though they say it themselves. In the end they will find out that they are Irish. Some day a last insult, a particularly barefaced43 robbery, or an intolerable oppression, will awake them. Then they’ll turn on the people that betrayed them. They will discover that Ireland—their Ireland—isn’t meant to be a cabbage-garden for Manchester, nor yet a crêche for sucking priests. Ah! it will be good to be alive when they find themselves. We shall be within reach of the freedom of Ireland then.’
Hyacinth was amazed at her vehement44 admiration for the class she was accustomed to anathematize. He turned her words over and over in his mind. They recalled, as so many different things seemed to do, his father’s vision of an Armageddon. Amid the confusion of Irish politics this thought of a Protestant and aristocratic revolt was strangely attractive; only it seemed to be wholly impossible. He bewildered himself in the effort to arrange the pieces of the game into some reasonable order. What was to be thought of a priesthood who, contrary to all the traditions of their Church, had nursed a revolution against the rights of property? or of a people, amazingly quick of apprehension45, idealistic of temperament46, who time after time submitted themselves blindfold47 to the tyranny of a single leader, worshipped a man, and asked no questions about his policy? How was he to place an aristocracy who refused to lead, and persisted in whining48 about their wrongs to the inattentive shopkeepers of English towns, gentlemen not wanting in honour and spirit courting a contemptuous bourgeoisie with ridiculous flatteries? In what reasonable scheme of things was it possible to place Protestants, blatant49 in their boasts about liberty, who hugged subjection to a power which deliberately fostered the growth of an ecclesiastical tyranny? Where amid this crazy dance of self-contradictory fanatics50 and fools was a sane51 man to find a place on which to stand? How, above all, was Ireland, a nation, to evolve itself?
He turned with relief from these perplexities to the work that lay before him. However a man might worry and befog himself over the confused issues of politics, it was at all events a straightforward52 and simple matter to fight, and Hyacinth was going to the front as the eleventh Irish volunteer.
To do Miss Goold justice, she had been extremely unwilling53 to enrol54 him, and had refused to take a penny of his money. Her conscience, such as it was after years of patriotic55 endeavour, rebelled against committing a young man whom she really liked to the companionship of the men she had enlisted56 and the care of their commander, Captain Albert Quinn.
This gentleman, whom she daily expected in Dublin, belonged to County Mayo. He represented himself as a member of an ancient but impoverished57 family, boasted of his military experience, and professed58 to be profoundly skilled in all matters relating to horses. Miss Goold’s inquiries59 elicited60 the fact that he held an undefined position under his brother, a respectable manufacturer of woollen goods. His military experience had been gathered during the few months he held a commission in the militia61 battalion62 of the Connaught Rangers63, an honourable64 position which he had resigned because his brother officers persistently65 misunderstood his methods of winning money at cards. No one, however, was found to deny that he really did possess a wonderful knowledge of horses. The worst that Miss Goold’s correspondents could suggest with regard to this third qualification was that he knew too much. None of these drawbacks to the Captain—he had assumed the title when he accepted the command of the volunteers—weighed with Miss Goold. Indeed, she admitted to Mary O’Dwyer, in a moment of frankness, that if her men weren’t more or less blackguards she couldn’t expect them to go out to South Africa. She did not speak equally plainly to Hyacinth. She recollected66 that he had displayed a very inconvenient67 kind of morality when she first knew him, and she believed him quite capable of breaking away from her influence altogether if he discovered the kind of men she was willing to work with.
She did her best to persuade him to give up the idea of joining the force, by pointing out to him that he was quite unfitted for the work that would have to be done.
‘You know nothing about horses,’ she said. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever been on the back of one.’
Hyacinth admitted that this was true. The inhabitants of Carrowkeel rarely ride their shaggy ponies68, and when they do it is sitting sideways just above the creatures’ tails, with two creels for turf or seaweed in the place where the saddle ought to be.
‘And I don’t suppose you know much about shooting?’
Hyacinth was depressed69, for he had never pulled a trigger in his life. In the West of Ireland a man is not allowed to possess a gun unless a resident magistrate70 will certify71 to his loyalty72 and harmlessness. Therefore, the inhabitants of villages like Carrowkeel are debarred from shooting either snipe or seals, and the British Empire stands secure.
The difficulty about his horsemanship Hyacinth endeavoured to get over. He arranged with a car-driver of his acquaintance to teach him to groom73 and harness his horses. The man possessed two quadrupeds, which he described as ‘the yellow pony74’ and ‘the little mare75.’ Hyacinth began with the yellow pony, the oldest and staidest of the two. The little mare, who had a temper of her own, gave him more trouble. She disliked his way of putting the crupper under her tail, and one day, to her owner’s great delight, ‘rose the divil on them’ when her new groom got the shaft76 of the car stuck through her collar.
The want of experience in shooting was more difficult to get over. Grealy owned an antiquated77 army rifle, which he lent to Hyacinth. It was, of course, entirely78 different from the Mauser, and it was impossible to get an opportunity for firing it off. However, there was some comfort to be found in handling the thing, and taking long and careful aim at a distant church spire79 through a window.
In the face of such enthusiasm, Miss Goold could not refuse her recruit. She talked to him freely about her plans, and was eloquent80 about the spirit and abilities of M. de Villeneuve, who was to take charge of her soldiers after they joined him in Paris. On the subject of Captain Quinn she was much more reticent81, and she refused altogether to introduce Hyacinth to his ten fellow troopers.
‘There’s not the least necessity,’ she said, ‘for you to meet them until the time for starting comes. In fact, I may say it is safer for none of you to know each other.’
Hyacinth experienced a thrill of agreeable excitement. He felt that he was engaged in a real conspiracy82.
‘For fear of informers?’ he asked.
‘Yes. One never can be quite sure of anyone. Of course, they can every one of them give information against me. You can yourself, if you like. But no one can betray anyone else, and as long as the men are safe, it doesn’t matter what happens to me.’
It was one of Miss Goold’s weaknesses that she imagined herself to be an object of hatred83 and dread84 to the Government, and nothing irritated her more than a suspicion that she was not being taken seriously.
The first glimpse that Hyacinth got of the character of the men among whom he was to serve came to him through Tim Halloran. Tim was still sore from the scolding he had been given for his conduct at the Rotunda85 meeting, and missed no opportunity of scoffing—not, of course, publicly, but among his friends—at Miss Goold and her volunteers. Hyacinth avoided him as much as possible, but one evening he walked up against him on the narrow footway at the corner of George’s Street. Halloran was delighted, and seized him by the arm.
‘You’re the very man I wanted to see,’ he said. ‘Have you heard about Doherty?’
Hyacinth knew no one called Doherty. He said so, and tried to escape, but Halloran held him fast.
‘Not know Doherty! How’s that? I thought you were in all dear Finola’s secrets. Faith! I heard you were going out to fight for the Boers yourself. I didn’t believe it, of course. You wouldn’t be such a fool. But I thought you’d know that Doherty is one of the ten precious recruits, or, rather, was one of them.’ He laughed loudly. ‘He’ll fight on the other side now, if he fights at all.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Hyacinth uneasily.
He was not at all sure what view the authorities in Dublin Castle might take of recruiting for the Boer service, and Miss Goold’s hints about informers recurred86 to his mind alarmingly. Perhaps this Doherty was an informer.
‘Well,’ said Halloran, ‘I was in one of the police-courts this morning doing my work for the Evening Star. You know I report the police news for that rag, don’t you? Well, I do. My column is called “The Doom87 of the Disorderly.” Rather a good title that for a column of the kind! There didn’t appear to be anything particular on, just a few ordinary drunks, until this fellow Doherty was brought in. I thought I recognised him, and when I heard his name I was certain of my man. He hadn’t done anything very bad—assaulted a tram-conductor, or some such trifle—and would have got off with a fine. However, a military man turned up and claimed him as a deserter. His real name, it appears, is Johnston. He deserted88 six weeks ago from the Dublin Fusiliers.’
‘How on earth did he impose on Miss Goold?’ asked Hyacinth.
Halloran looked at him curiously89.
‘Oh, I shouldn’t say he exactly imposed upon Finola. She’s not precisely90 a fool, you know, and she has pretty accurate information about most of the people she deals with.’
‘But surely———’
Halloran shrugged91 his shoulders.
‘My dear fellow, I don’t want to shatter your ideal, but the beautiful Finola wants to work a revolution, and you can’t do that sort of thing without soiling your hands. However, whether he imposed on her or not, there’s no doubt about it that he was a deserter. Why, it appeared that the fool was tattooed92 all over the arms and chest, and the military people had a list of the designs. They had a perfectly93 plain case, and, indeed, Doherty made no defence.’
‘What will they do with him?’ said Hyacinth, still uneasy about the possibility of Doherty’s volunteering information.
‘I don’t know,’ said Halloran. ‘I should think the best punishment would be to send him out to Ladysmith. I dare say the Boers would pass him in if the circumstances were explained to them. By the way, it would be rather funny if he met the other nine out there on a kopje, wouldn’t it? He might take them prisoners, or they might capture him. Either way the situation would have its comic possibilities.’
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1
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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pertained
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| 关于( pertain的过去式和过去分词 )； 有关； 存在； 适用 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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enlistment
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| n.应征入伍，获得，取得 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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promenading
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| v.兜风( promenade的现在分词 ) | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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solicitors
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| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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imperialism
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| n.帝国主义，帝国主义政策 | |
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moribund
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| adj.即将结束的，垂死的 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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strutting
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| 加固，支撑物 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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duels
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| n.两男子的决斗( duel的名词复数 )；竞争，斗争 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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agitate
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| vi.(for,against)煽动，鼓动；vt.搅动 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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paradox
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| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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bribing
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| 贿赂 | |
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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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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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barefaced
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| adj.厚颜无耻的，公然的 | |
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vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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47
blindfold
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| vt.蒙住…的眼睛；adj.盲目的；adv.盲目地；n.蒙眼的绷带[布等]； 障眼物，蒙蔽人的事物 | |
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48
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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49
blatant
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| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
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50
fanatics
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| 狂热者，入迷者( fanatic的名词复数 ) | |
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51
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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52
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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54
enrol
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| v.（使）注册入学，（使）入学，（使）入会 | |
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55
patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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56
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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impoverished
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| adj.穷困的，无力的，用尽了的v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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militia
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| n.民兵，民兵组织 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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rangers
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| 护林者( ranger的名词复数 )； 突击队员 | |
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64
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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71
certify
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| vt.证明，证实；发证书(或执照)给 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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80
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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83
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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rotunda
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| n.圆形建筑物；圆厅 | |
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86
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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tattooed
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| v.刺青，文身( tattoo的过去式和过去分词 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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