Schwartz opened the drawer of the table. Tobacco and pipes; two or three small drinking-glasses; a dirty pack of playing-cards; the mad watchman's song, with a woodcut illustration of the suicide—all lay huddled2 together. He took from the drawer the song, and two of the drinking-glasses, and called to his little guest to come out of the cell.
"There;" he said, filling the glasses, "you never tasted such wine as that in all your life. Off with it!"
Jack turned away with a look of disgust. "What did you say of wine, when I drank with you the other night?" he asked reproachfully. "You said it would warm my heart, and make a man of me. And what did it do? I couldn't stand on my legs. I couldn't hold up my head—I was so sleepy and stupid that Joseph had to take me upstairs to bed. I hate your wine! Your wine's a liar4, who promises and doesn't perform! I'm weary enough, and wretched enough in my mind, as it is. No more wine for me!"
"Wrong!" remarked Schwartz, emptying his glass, and smacking6 his lips after it.
"You made a serious mistake the other night—you didn't drink half enough. Give the good liquor a fair chance, my son. No, you won't? Must I try a little gentle persuasion7 before you will come back to your chair?" Suiting the action to the word, he put his arm round Jack. "What's this I feel under my hand?" he asked. "A bottle?" He took it out of Jack's breast-pocket. "Lord help us!" he exclaimed; "it looks like physic!"
Jack snatched it away from him, with a cry of delight. "The very thing for me—and I never thought of it!"
It was the phial which Madame Fontaine had repentantly kept to herself, after having expressly filled it for him with the fatal dose of "Alexander's Wine"—the phial which he had found, when he first opened the "Pink-Room Cupboard." In the astonishment8 and delight of finding the blue-glass bottle immediately afterwards, he had entirely9 forgotten it. Nothing had since happened to remind him that it was in his pocket, until Schwartz had stumbled on the discovery.
"It cures you when you are tired or troubled in your mind," Jack announced in his grandest manner, repeating Madame Fontaine's own words. "Is there any water here?"
"Not a drop, thank Heaven!" said Schwartz, devoutly10.
"Give me my glass, then. I once tried the remedy by itself, and it stung me as it went down. The wine won't hurt me, with this splendid stuff in it. I'll take it in the wine."
"Who told you to take it?" Schwartz asked, holding back the glass.
"Mrs. Housekeeper11 told me."
"A woman!" growled12 Schwartz, in a tone of sovereign contempt. "How dare you let a woman physic you, when you've got me for a doctor? Jack! I'm ashamed of you."
Jack defended his manhood. "Oh, I don't care what she says! I despise her—she's mad. You don't suppose she made this? I wouldn't touch it, if she had. No, no; her husband made it—a wonderful man! the greatest man in Germany!"
He reached across the table and secured his glass of wine. Before it was possible to interfere13, he had emptied the contents of the phial into it, and had raised it to his lips. At that moment, Schwartz's restraining hand found its way to his wrist. The deputy watchman had far too sincere a regard for good wine to permit it to be drunk, in combination with physic, at his own table.
"Put it down!" he said gruffly. "You're my visitor, ain't you? Do you think I'm going to let housekeeper's cat-lap be drunk at my table? Look here!"
He held up his traveling-flask14, with the metal drinking-cup taken off, so as to show the liquor through the glass. The rich amber15 color of it fascinated Jack. He put his wine-glass back on the table. "What is it?" he asked eagerly.
"Drinkable gold, Jack! My physic. Brandy!"
He poured out a dram into the metal cup. "Try that," he said, "and don't let me hear any more about the housekeeper's physic."
Jack tasted it. The water came into his eyes—he put his hands on his throat. "Fire!" he gasped16 faintly.
"Wait!" said Schwartz.
Jack waited. The fiery17 grip of the brandy relaxed; the genial18 warmth of it was wafted19 through him persuasively20 from head to foot. He took another sip21. His eyes began to glitter. "What divine being made this?" he asked. Without waiting to be answered, he tried it again, and emptied the cup. "More!" he cried. "I never felt so big, I never felt so strong, I never felt so clever, as I feel now!"
Schwartz, drinking freely from his own bottle, recovered, and more than recovered, his Bacchanalian22 good humor. He clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Who's the right doctor now?" he asked cheerfully. "A drab of a housekeeper? or Father Schwartz? Your health, my jolly boy! When the bottle's empty, I'll help you to finish the flask. Drink away! and the devil take all heel-taps!"
The next dose of brandy fired Jack's excitable brain with a new idea. He fell on his knees at the table, and clasped his hands in a sudden fervor23 of devotion. "Silence!" he commanded sternly. "Your wine's only a poor devil. Your drinkable gold is a god. Take your cap off, Schwartz—I'm worshipping drinkable gold!"
Schwartz, highly diverted, threw his cap up to the ceiling. "Drinkable gold, ora pro3 nobis!" he shouted, profanely24 adapting himself to Jack's humor. "You shall be Pope, my boy—and I'll be the Pope's butler. Allow me to help your sacred majesty25 back to your chair."
Jack's answer betrayed another change in him. His tones were lofty; his manner was distant. "I prefer the floor," he said; "hand me down my mug." As he reached up to take it, the alarm-bell over the door caught his eye. Debased as he was by the fiery strength of the drink, his ineradicable love for his mistress made its noble influence felt through the coarse fumes26 that were mounting to his brain. "Stop!" he cried. "I must be where I can see the bell—I must be ready for her, the instant it rings."
He crawled across the floor, and seated himself with his back against the wall of one of the empty cells, on the left-hand side of the room. Schwartz, shaking his fat sides with laughter, handed down the cup to his guest. Jack took no notice of it. His eyes, reddened already by the brandy, were fixed27 on the bell opposite to him. "I want to know about it," he said. "What's that steel thing there, under the brass28 cover?"
"What's the use of asking?" Schwartz replied, returning to his bottle.
"I want to know!"
"Patience, Jack—patience. Follow my fore-finger. My hand seems to shake a little; but it's as honest a hand as ever was. That steel thing there, is the bell hammer, you know. And, bless your heart, the hammer's everything. Cost, Lord knows how much. Another toast, my son. Good luck to the bell!"
Jack changed again; he began to cry. "She's sleeping too long on that sofa, in there," he said sadly. "I want her to speak to me; I want to hear her scold me for drinking in this horrid29 place. My heart's all cold again. Where's the mug?" He found it, as he spoke30; the fire of the brandy went down his throat once more, and lashed31 him into frantic32 high spirits. "I'm up in the clouds!" he shouted; "I'm riding on a whirlwind. Sing, Schwartz! Ha! there are the stars twinkling through the skylight! Sing the stars down from heaven!"
Schwartz emptied his bottle, without the ceremony of using the glass. "Now we are primed!" he said—"now for the mad watchman's song!" He snatched up the paper from the table, and roared out hoarsely33 the first verse:
The moon was shining, cold and bright,
In the Frankfort Deadhouse, on New Year's night
And I was the watchman, left alone,
While the rest to feast and dance were gone;
I envied their lot, and cursed my own—
Poor me!
"Chorus, Jack! 'I envied their lot and cursed my own'——"
The last words of the verse were lost in a yell of drunken terror. Schwartz started out of his chair, and pointed34, panic-stricken, to the lower end of the room. "A ghost!" he screamed. "A ghost in black, at the door!"
Jack looked round, and burst out laughing. "Sit down again, you old fool," he said. "It's only Mrs. Housekeeper. We are singing, Mrs. Housekeeper! You haven't heard my voice yet—I'm the finest singer in Germany."
Madame Fontaine approached him humbly35. "You have a kind heart, Jack—I am sure you will help me," she said. "Show me how to get out of this frightful36 place."
"The devil take you!" growled Schwartz, recovering himself. "How did you get in?"
"She's a witch!" shouted Jack. "She rode in on a broomstick—she crept in through the keyhole. Where's the fire? Let's take her downstairs, and burn her!"
Schwartz applied37 himself to the brandy-flask, and began to laugh again. "There never was such good company as Jack," he said, in his oiliest tones. "You can't get out to-night, Mrs. Witch. The gates are locked—and they don't trust me with the key. Walk in, ma'am. Plenty of accommodation for you, on that side of the room where Jack sits. We are slack of guests for the grave, to-night. Walk in."
She renewed her entreaties38. "I'll give you all the money I have about me! Who can I go to for the key? Jack! Jack! speak for me!"
"Go on with the song!" cried Jack.
She appealed again in her despair to Schwartz. "Oh, sir, have mercy on me! I fainted, out there—and, when I came to myself, I tried to open the gates—and I called, and called, and nobody heard me."
Schwartz's sense of humor was tickled39 by this. "If you could bellow40 like a bull," he said, "nobody would hear you. Take a seat, ma'am."
"Go on with the song!" Jack reiterated41. "I'm tired of waiting."
Madame Fontaine looked wildly from one to the other of them. "Oh, God, I'm locked in with an idiot and a drunkard!" The thought of it maddened her as it crossed her mind. Once more, she fled from the room. Again, and again, in the outer darkness, she shrieked42 for help.
Schwartz advanced staggering towards the door, with Jack's empty chair in his hand. "Perhaps you'll be able to pipe a little higher, ma'am, if you come back, and sit down? Now for the song, Jack!"
He burst out with the second verse:
Backwards43 and forwards, with silent tread,
I walked on my watch by the doors of the dead.
And I said, It's hard, on this New Year,
While the rest are dancing to leave me here,
Alone with death and cold and fear—
Poor me!
"Chorus, Jack! Chorus, Mrs. Housekeeper! Ho! ho! look at her! She can't resist the music—she has come back to us already. What can we do for you, ma'am? The flask's not quite drained yet. Come and have a drink."
She had returned, recoiling44 from the outer darkness and silence, giddy with the sickening sense of faintness which was creeping over her again. When Schwartz spoke she advanced with tottering45 steps. "Water!" she exclaimed, gasping46 for breath. "I'm faint—water! water!"
"Not a drop in the place, ma'am! Brandy, if you like?"
"I forbid it!" cried Jack, with a peremptory47 sign of the hand. "Drinkable gold is for us—not for her!"
The glass of wine which Schwartz had prevented him from drinking caught his notice. To give Madame Fontaine her own "remedy," stolen from her own room, was just the sort of trick to please Jack in his present humor. He pointed to the glass, and winked48 at the watchman. After a momentary49 hesitation50, Schwartz's muddled51 brain absorbed the new idea. "Here's a drop of wine left, ma'am," he said. "Suppose you try it?"
She leaned one hand on the table to support herself. Her heart sank lower and lower; a cold perspiration52 bedewed her face. "Quick! quick!" she murmured faintly. She seized the glass, and emptied it eagerly to the last drop.
Schwartz and Jack eyed her with malicious53 curiosity. The idea of getting away was still in her mind. "I think I can walk now," she said. "For God's sake, let me out!"
"Haven't I told you already? I can't get out myself."
At that brutal54 answer, she shrank back. Slowly and feebly she made her way to the chair, and dropped on it.
"Cheer up, ma'am!" said Schwartz. "You shall have more music to help you—you shall hear how the mad watchman lost his wits. Another drop of the drinkable gold, Jack. A dram for you and a dram for me—and here goes!" He roared out the last verses of the song:—
Any company's better than none, I said:
If I can't have the living, I'd like the dead.
In one terrific moment more,
The corpse-bell rang at each cell door,
The moonlight shivered on the floor—
Poor me!
The curtains gaped55; there stood a ghost,
On every threshold, as white as frost,
You called us, they shrieked, and we gathered soon;
Dance with your guests by the New Year's moon!
I danced till I dropped in a deadly swoon—
Poor me!
And since that night I've lost my wits,
And I shake with ceaseless ague-fits:
For the ghosts they turned me cold as stone,
On that New Year's night when the white moon shone,
And I walked on my watch, all, all alone—
Poor me!
And, oh, when I lie in my coffin-bed,
Heap thick the earth above my head!
Or I shall come back, and dance once more,
With frantic feet on the Deadhouse floor,
And a ghost for a partner at every door—
Poor me!
The night had cleared. While Schwartz was singing, the moon shone in at the skylight. At the last verse of the song, a ray of the cold yellow light streamed across Jack's face. The fire of the brandy leapt into flame—the madness broke out in him, with a burst of its by-gone fury. He sprang, screaming, to his feet.
"The moon!" he shouted—"the mad watchman's moon! The mad watchman himself is coming back. There he is, sliding down on the slanting56 light! Do you see the brown earth of the grave dropping from him, and the rope round his neck? Ha! how he skips, and twists, and twirls! He's dancing again with the dead ones. Make way there! I mean to dance with them too. Come on, mad watchman—come on! I'm as mad as you are!"
He whirled round and round with the fancied ghost for a partner in the dance. The coarse laughter of Schwartz burst out again at the terrible sight. He called, with drunken triumph, to Madame Fontaine. "Look at Jacky, ma'am. There's a dancer for you! There's good company for a dull winter night!" She neither looked nor moved—she sat crouched57 on the chair, spellbound with terror. Jack threw up his arms, turned giddily once or twice, and sank exhausted58 on the floor. "The cold of him creeps up my hands," he said, still possessed59 by the vision of the watchman. "He cools my eyes, he calms my heart, he stuns60 my head. I'm dying, dying, dying—going back with him to the grave. Poor me! poor me!"
He lay hushed in a strange repose61; his eyes wide open, staring up at the moon. Schwartz drained the last drop of brandy out of the flask. "Jack's name ought to be Solomon," he pronounced with drowsy62 solemnity; "Solomon was wise; and Jack's wise. Jack goes to sleep, when the liquor's done. Take away the bottle, before the overseer comes in. If any man says I am not sober, that man lies. The Rhine wine has a way of humming in one's head. That's all, Mr. Overseer—that's all. Do I see the sun rising, up there in the skylight? I wish you good-night; I wish—you—good—night."
He laid his heavy arms on the table; his head dropped on them—he slept.
The time passed. No sound broke the silence but the lumpish snoring of Schwartz. No change appeared in Jack; there he lay, staring up at the moon.
Somewhere in the building (unheard thus far in the uproar) a clock struck the first hour of the morning.
Madame Fontaine started. The sound shook her with a new fear—a fear that expressed itself in a furtive63 look at the cell in which the dead woman lay. If the corpse-bell rang, would the stroke of it be like the single stroke of the clock?
"Jack!" she whispered. "Do you hear the clock? Oh, Jack, the stillness is dreadful—speak to me."
He slowly raised himself. Perhaps the striking of the clock—perhaps some inner prompting—had roused him. He neither answered Madame Fontaine, nor looked at her. With his arms clasped round his knees, he sat on the floor in the attitude of a savage65. His eyes, which had stared at the moon, now stared with the same rigid66, glassy look at the alarm-bell over the cell-door.
The time went on. Again the oppression of silence became more than Madame Fontaine could endure. Again she tried to make Jack speak to her.
"What are you looking at?" she asked. "What are you waiting for? Is it——?" The rest of the sentence died away on her lips: the words that would finish it were words too terrible to be spoken.
The sound of her voice produced no visible impression on Jack. Had it influenced him, in some unseen way? Something did certainly disturb the strange torpor67 that held him. He spoke. The tones were slow and mechanical—the tones of a man searching his memory with pain and difficulty; repeating his recollections, one by one, as he recovered them, to himself.
"When she moves," he muttered, "her hands pull the string. Her hands send a message up: up and up to the bell." He paused, and pointed to the cell-door.
The action had a horrible suggestiveness to the guilty wretch5 who was watching him.
"Don't do that!" she cried. "Don't point there!"
His hand never moved; he pursued his newly-found recollections of what the doctor had shown to him.
"Up and up to the bell," he repeated. "And the bell feels it. The steel thing moves. The bell speaks. Good bell! Faithful bell!"
The clock struck the half-hour past one. Madame Fontaine shrieked at the sound—her senses knew no distinction between the clock and the bell.
She saw his pointing hand drop back, and clasp itself with the other hand, round his knees. He spoke—softly and tenderly now—he was speaking to the dead. "Rise Mistress, rise! Dear soul, the time is long; and poor Jack is waiting for you!"
She thought the closed curtains moved: the delusion68 was reality to her. She tried to rouse Schwartz.
"Watchman! watchman! Wake up!"
He slept on as heavily as ever.
She half rose from her chair. She was almost on her feet—when she sank back again. Jack had moved. He got up on his knees. "Mistress hears me!" he said. The light of vivid expression showed itself in his eyes. Their vacancy69 was gone: they looked longingly70 at the door of the cell. He got on his feet—he pressed both hands over his bosom71. "Come!" he said. "Oh, Mistress, come!"
There was a sound—a faint premonitory rustling72 sound—over the door.
The steel hammer moved—rose—struck the metal globe. The bell rang.
He stood rooted to the floor, sobbing73 hysterically74. The iron grasp of suspense75 held him.
Not a cry, not a movement escaped Madame Fontaine. The life seemed to have been struck out of her by the stroke of the bell. It woke Schwartz. Except that he looked up, he too never moved: he too was like a living creature turned to stone.
A minute passed.
The curtains swayed gently. Tremulous fingers crept out, parting them. Slowly, over the black surface of the curtain, a fair naked arm showed itself, widening the gap.
The figure appeared, in its velvet76 pall77. On the pale face the stillness of repose was barely ruffled78 yet. The eyes alone were conscious of returning life. They looked out on the room, softly surprised and perplexed—no more. They looked downwards79: the lips trembled sweetly into a smile. She saw Jack, kneeling in ecstasy80 at her feet.
And now again, there was stillness in the room. Unutterable happiness rejoiced, unutterable dread64 suffered, in the same silence.
The first sound heard came suddenly from the lonely outer hall. Hurrying footsteps swept over the courtyard. The flash of lights flew along the dark passage. Voices of men and women, mingled81 together, poured into the Watchman's Chamber82.
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收听单词发音
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1
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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2
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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6
smacking
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| 活泼的，发出响声的，精力充沛的 | |
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persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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8
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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9
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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11
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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12
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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13
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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14
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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17
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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19
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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persuasively
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| adv.口才好地；令人信服地 | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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22
bacchanalian
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| adj.闹酒狂饮的；n.发酒疯的人 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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profanely
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| adv.渎神地，凡俗地 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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30
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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31
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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32
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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39
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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40
bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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41
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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44
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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45
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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46
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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stuns
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| v.击晕( stun的第三人称单数 )；使大吃一惊；给（某人）以深刻印象；使深深感动 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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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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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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81
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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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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