Sev. Quoi?
Fab. Mariée!
Put money in thy purse; follow these wars.—Othello.
Morton walked down Broadway at a rapid pace, entered his hotel, mounted to his room, seated himself, rested his forehead on his hand, and, with fixed3 eyes and compressed lips, remained in this position for some minutes, motionless as if carved out of oak. Then, rising, he paced the room, buried his face in his hands, and groaned4 with irrepressible anguish5. Suddenly the door was burst open, and an Irish servant, apparently6 in a great hurry, bolted in, and tossed a card on the table, saying at the same time,—"Gen'lman down stairs wants to see you."
Morton broke into a rage, to hide the traces of a different passion.
"Why do you come in without knocking? Learn better manners, or I shall teach them to you."
"I beg pardon, sir," said the servant, reduced at once to the depth of obsequiousness7, "there's a gentleman, sir—an officer, sir,—would like to see you, sir."
"An officer!—I don't know any officers. There's some mistake."
"He said Mr. Morton, sir. This is his card, sir."
Morton looked at the card, and read the name of his classmate Rosny.
"Very well. Ask the gentleman to come up.—No,—here,"—as the servant was retreating along the passage,—"where is he?"
"In the reading room, sir."
"Tell him I will come down in a moment."
"Yes, sir, I will, sir."
Morton adjusted his dress, strove to banish9 from his features all traces of the emotion which had just overwhelmed him, went down stairs, and met Rosny with an air of as much cordiality as if there were nothing in his mind but the pleasure of seeing an old friend. Rosny, his first welcome over, surveyed him from head to foot.
"A good deal changed! Thinner,—darker complexioned10, decidedly older. And yet you've weathered it well. It's a thing that I could never stand,—to be boxed up in four stone walls. I would throttle11 the jailer first, and then knock my brains out against the stones."
"Yes, I met him just now, with his eyes bigger than ever. When I saw him making a dive at me across the street, among the omnibuses and carriages, I knew that something extraordinary was to pay."
"You have changed your outward man, too, since I saw you last," said Morton, looking at his companion's costume, which consisted of a gray volunteer uniform.
"Yes, I'm in Uncle Sam's pay now.—Off for Mexico in a day or two;—revel in the Halls of the Montezumas, you know."
"What rank do you hold in the service, Dick?"
"You'll please to address me as Major Rosny; that is, till good luck and the Mexican bullets make a colonel of me.—I have just dropped in to shake hands with you. I have an appointment to keep in five minutes. You have nothing particular to do to-day—have you?"
"Nothing very particular," said Morton, hesitating.
"Then come and dine with me at Delmonico's at four o'clock. What!—you don't mean to say no, do you?—Is that the way you treat your friends? Come, I shall be here at four, precisely13. Au revoir."
And, with his usual celerity of motion, Rosny left the hotel.
Morton slowly remounted to his room, locked the door this time, to keep out intruders, seated himself, and gave himself up to his dark and morbid14 reveries.
"God! of what is this world made! Villany thrives, and innocent men are racked with the pangs15 of hell. Poverty starving its victims,—luxury poisoning them;—the passions of tigers and the mean vices16 of reptiles;—treacherous hatred17, faithless love;—deceitful hope, vain struggles, endless suffering,—a hell of misery18 and darkness. A fair sunrise, to cheat the eye;—then clouds and storms, blackness and desolation! To look back over the last five years! Then I was basking19 in sunshine; and out of that brightness what a doom20 is fallen on me! My life—my guiding star quenched21 in a vile22 morass—lost forever in the arms of this accursed villain23!"
Morton rose abruptly24, went to the window, and stood looking out with a fixed gaze, wholly unconscious of what was before him. In a moment he turned again, and there was a wild and deadly light in his eyes. A thought had struck him, shooting an electric life through all his veins25, and kindling26 him into a kind of fierce ecstasy27. He would go to Vinal, charge him with his perfidy28, challenge him, and put him to death. He paced the room in great disorder29. A resistless power seemed to have seized upon him, sweeping30 him forward with the force of a torrent31. He clinched32 his teeth and breathed deeply. The thought of action and of vengeance33 lighted up his perturbed34 and gloomy mind as the baleful glare of a conflagration35 lights up a stormy midnight. Suddenly he stopped, seated himself again, and remained for some minutes in violent mental conflict. "I thank God," he murmured at length, apostrophizing his enemy, "that you were not just now within my reach. You have ruined me for this life; you shall not ruin me for the next. Live, and work out your own destruction."
He walked the room again, calmly enough, but in great dejection. "It may be," he thought, "that I am not his only victim. Perhaps the same art that snared36 me, has, by some infernal machination, entrapped37 her also. I believe it;—at least, I will try to believe it."
He looked from the window upon the keen and busy crowds passing below in unbroken streams, to and from their places of business; and his mind tinged38 them with its own moody39 coloring.
"You flight of human vultures! How many of you can show lives governed by any generous purpose or noble thought? Behind how many of those sharp and sallow features, furrowed40 with early wrinkles, lies the soul of a man? Desperate chasers after wealth, which, when you have won it, you have never been taught to use;—reckless pleasure hunters, beguiling41 others that your victims may beguile42 in turn, and both sink to perdition together. What you win with trickery, you throw away in vanity or debauch43. The counting room or the broker's board by day;—brandy, billiards44, and the rendezvous45 by night;—so you go,—a short, quick road;—driving to your doom with a high-pressure power of rapacity46, vain glory, and lust47. Man!—the thistledown of fortune, the shuttlecock of passion;—whirled on to destruction by the wildfire in his veins, unless by struggling and by prayer he can keep the narrow adamantine track laid down for his career!"
In such distempered reflections he passed some time. Even in the darkest passages of his imprisonment48, his mind had scarcely been shaken so far from its habitual49 poise50. Growing weary at length of solitude51, he went out of the house; and, avoiding the great thoroughfares, where he might perhaps meet an acquaintance, he threaded at a rapid pace those meaner streets and lanes, where even the best balanced mind may find abundant food for gloomy meditation52. From time to time, as the image of his enemy rose before him, the desire for vengeance came upon him afresh, like a fever fit. He burned to seize Vinal by the throat, and, at least, force him to unmask his iniquity53 to the world.
As he was passing down Water Street, he recollected54, with some vexation, that Rosny had promised to call for him at four o'clock, and retraced55 his steps to the hotel, where, true to the minute, that punctual adventurer presently appeared.
"Come," said Rosny; "if you are ready, we will walk down street."
They repaired to Delmonico's, where, in a private room, a sumptuous57 repast had been made ready. Morton, over his companion's claret, was obliged to recount the circumstances of his imprisonment. Rosny, on his part, gave an outline of his own fortunes since they had last met. He had been once or twice on the point of very considerable success, but his vaulting58 ambition had always overleaped itself, and by too great eagerness and grasping at too much, he had repeatedly failed of his prize, only, however, to rally after every reverse with undiminished confidence and spirit. Such, at least, were the conclusions which Morton drew from his companion's somewhat inflated59 account of himself.
After the cloth had been removed, Rosny bit off the end of a cigar, lighted it, puffed60 at it two or three times, and then, holding it between his fingers, went on with an harangue61 which the operations of the waiter had interrupted.
"I tell you, these are great times that we live in. The world has seen nothing like them since the days of Columbus and Cortes. These are the times and this is the country for a man of merit to thrive in. Let him identify himself with the progressive movements of the age,—yes, faith, let him be a leader of them,—and there's nothing too large for him to hope for. Why, sir, the day is not far off, when the stars and stripes will be seen from Hudson's Bay to Panama. Cuba will come next; Brazil next. Lord knows where we shall stop. There's a field for a man of ability and pluck!"
Morton smiled. Rosny relighted his cigar, which, in the fervor62 of his declamation63, he had allowed to go out, gave a vigorous whiff or two, and proceeded.
"We have just lost a splendid chance. I did flatter myself that there was going to be a row with England, on the Oregon question; but it was a flash in the pan; it all ended in smoke."
"Why do you want to fight with John Bull?" asked Morton.
"For two good reasons. In the first place, I hate him. I hate him in right of my French ancestors, and I hate him as a true American democrat64. Then, over and above all that, a war with the English would be the making of me. I should rise then. I would be their Hannibal. But now we have nothing better to do than giving fits to these yellow Mexican vagabonds."
"A shabby employment," said Morton, "and yet I think I should like it."
"You would, ey?—then go with me to Mexico."
"It's a temptation," said Morton, his eyes lighted with a sudden gleam,—"I am in a mood for any thing, I do not care what."
"I knew there was something ailing65 you," said Rosny; "why, you have had no appetite. You've lost all your spirits. Has any thing happened? Are you ill?"
"Nothing to speak of. I am well enough in health."
"Well, come with me to Mexico. When a man is under a cloud, he always makes the better soldier for it. If you have had bad luck, why, you can fight like a Trojan."
"I could storm Hell Gates to-day," exclaimed Morton, giving a momentary66 vent56 to his long pent up emotion.
"Good! I always knew that there was stuff in you, though you are worth half a million. It isn't that, though—is it? You haven't lost property—have you?"
"Not that I know. Never mind, Dick; every man has his little vexations, sometimes, and is entitled to the privilege of swearing at them."
"Well, I am not the man to pry67 into your private affairs. Come with me to Mexico. I can promise you a captain's commission,—perhaps I can get you a major's. I am not a cipher68 in the democratic party, I'd have you know, though I am not yet what I shall be soon. I helped Polk to his election, and my word will go for something. But, pshaw!—what am I talking about? With your money, and a little management, you can get any thing you want."
"I have more than half a mind," said Morton, hesitating; "but, no,—I won't go."
"Pshaw, man! You don't know what you are saying. You don't know what chances you are throwing away. Look at it. It isn't the military fame,—the glorification69 in the newspapers,—seeing pictures of yourself in the shop windows, charging full tilt70 among the Mexicans, and all that. You can take that for what it's worth. Tastes differ in such matters. But, I tell you, the men who distinguish themselves in Mexico are going to carry all before them in the political world. The people will go for them, neck or nothing. I know what our enlightened democracy is made of."—Here a slight grin flickered71 for an instant about the corners of his mouth; but he grew serious again at once.—"Yes, sir, a new world is going to begin. The old incumbents—Webster, Clay, Calhoun, and the rest—will pass off the stage, before long, and make room for younger men—men who will keep up with the times. Then will be our chance! Put brass72 in your forehead,—you have money enough in your purse already,—get a halo of Mexican glory round your head,—and you will shoot up like a rocket. First go to the war, then dive into politics, and you and I will be the biggest frogs in the puddle73."
"There's a fallacy in your conclusions," said Morton; "the officers of rank, the generals and colonels, will carry off the glory; and we shall have nothing but the blows."
"The Mexican bullets will make that all right. I tell you, they are going to fly like hail. They will dock off the heads above us, and make a clear path for us to mount by."
"Suppose that they should hit the wrong man," suggested Morton.
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Rosny, "we won't look at the matter in that light."
There was a momentary pause.
"Now's your time," urged Rosny. "Come, say the word."
Morton paced the room with knit brows and lips pressed together.
"Glory,"—exclaimed his military friend, summing up the advantages of a Mexican campaign,—"glory,—preferment,—life, of the fastest kind,—what more would you have?"
Morton had a strong native thirst for adventure, and a penchant74 for military exploit. In his present frame of mind, he felt violently impelled75 to cut loose from all his old ideas and scruples76, and launch at once upon a new life, fresh, unshackled, and reckless,—to plunge77 headlong into the tumult78 of the active world; fight its battles, run its races, give and take its blows, strain after its prizes,—forget the past and all its associations in the fever of the present. Mexico rose before his thoughts—snowy volcanoes, and tropical forests; the cocoa, the palm, and the cactus79; bastioned cities and intrenched heights; the rush and din8 of battle; war with its fierce excitements and unbounded license80. To his disordered mood, the scene had fascinations81 almost resistless, and he burned to play his part in the fiery82 drama.
"And why not?"—so his thoughts ran,—"why not obey what fate and nature dictate83? Calm, and peace, and happiness,—farewell to them! That stake is played and lost. I am no more fit now for domestic life than a prairie wolf. I should answer better for an Ishmaelite or a Pawnee. Deus vult. Why should I fly in the face of Providence84?"
Rosny, his uniform coat half unbuttoned for the sake of ease, sat lolling back in his chair, puffing85 wreaths of cigar smoke from his lips, eying Morton as he paced the room, and throwing out, from time to time, a word of encouragement to stimulate86 his resolution. He was about to lose all patience at his companion's pertinacious87 silence, when the latter stopped, and turned towards him with the air of one whose mind is made up.
"Dick," said Morton, "when I was in college, I laid down my plan of life, and adopted one maxim—to which I mean to hold fast."
"Well, what was that?" demanded the impatient Rosny.
"Never to abandon an enterprise once begun; to push on till the point is gained, in spite of pain, delay, danger, disappointment,—any thing."
"Good, so far. What next?"
"Some years ago, I entered upon certain plans, which have not yet been accomplished88. I have been interrupted, balked89, kicked and cuffed90 by fortune, till I am more than half disgusted with the world. But I mean still to take up the broken thread where I left it, and carry it forward as before."
"The moral of that is, I suppose, that you won't go to Mexico."
"Precisely."
"Well, I shan't try to debate the matter with you. I know you of old. When your foot is once down, it's useless for me to try to make you lift it up again. But remember what I say,—you will repent91 not taking my advice."
Rosny finished his cigar, and they left the restaurant together. On their way up the street, they stopped at a recruiting office. "Captain Rumbold, my friend Mr. Morton," said Rosny, who soon after, however, entered into an earnest conversation with the officer upon some affair of business, leaving Morton at leisure to observe six or eight volunteers, who were about to be sent to Governor's Island, in charge of a sergeant92.
"What do you think of our boys?" asked Rosny, casting a comical look at Morton, as they went down stairs.
"Food for powder," said Rosny, "they'll fill a ditch as well as better. The country needs a little blood-letting. These fellows are not like Falstaff's, though. They will fight. Not a man of them but will whip his weight in wildcats."
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1
coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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oyster
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| n.牡蛎；沉默寡言的人 | |
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3
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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4
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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obsequiousness
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| 媚骨 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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complexioned
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| 脸色…的 | |
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throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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shingles
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| n.带状疱疹；（布满海边的）小圆石( shingle的名词复数 )；屋顶板；木瓦（板）；墙面板 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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abruptly
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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perfidy
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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sweeping
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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vengeance
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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snared
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| v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entrapped
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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beguiling
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| adj.欺骗的，诱人的v.欺骗( beguile的现在分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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beguile
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| vt.欺骗，消遣 | |
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debauch
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| v.使堕落，放纵 | |
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billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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rapacity
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| n.贪婪，贪心，劫掠的欲望 | |
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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51
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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53
iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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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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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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vaulting
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| n.（天花板或屋顶的）拱形结构 | |
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inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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61
harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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63
declamation
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| n. 雄辩，高调 | |
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64
democrat
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士；民主党党员 | |
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65
ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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66
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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67
pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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68
cipher
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| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
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glorification
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| n.赞颂 | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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71
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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73
puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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penchant
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| n.爱好，嗜好；（强烈的）倾向 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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cactus
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| n.仙人掌 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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81
fascinations
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| n.魅力( fascination的名词复数 )；有魅力的东西；迷恋；陶醉 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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83
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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86
stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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pertinacious
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| adj.顽固的 | |
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88
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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89
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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90
cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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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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