With the leaders of the Popular party it was however different. They immediately assembled at the official residence of the Mayor, and a furious discussion ensued. In the hall of the Mayoralty an emergency meeting was held, at which all the power of the party was represented. Moret, the Civic5 Councillor and former editor of the suppressed TRUMPET6 CALL, was much cheered as he entered the room. His speech had appealed to many, and the Lauranians were always ready to applaud a daring act. Besides, every one was agitated7 by the recent riot and was eager to do something. The Labour delegates were particularly angry. Working-men, assembled in constitutional manner to express their grievances8, had been shot down by a hireling soldiery,—massacred was the word most generally used. Vengeance10 must be taken; but how? The wildest schemes were suggested. Moret, always for bold counsels, was for sallying into the streets and rousing the people to arms; they would burn the palace, execute the tyrant11, and restore the liberties of the land. Godoy, old and cautious, strongly opposed the suggestion, though indeed no particular eagerness was shown to adopt it. He advocated a calm and dignified12 attitude of reproach and censure13, which would appeal to the comity14 of nations and vindicate15 the justice of their cause. Others took up the argument. Renos, the barrister, was for what he called constitutional methods. They should form themselves into a Committee of Public Safety; they should appoint the proper officers of State (including of course an Attorney-General), and decree the deposition16 of the President for violation17 of the fundamental principles contained in the preamble18 of the Declaration of National Rights. He proceeded to dilate19 upon the legal points involved, until interrupted by several members who were anxious to offer their own remarks.
Several resolutions were passed. It was agreed that the President had forfeited20 the confidence of the citizens, and he was forthwith called upon to resign his office and submit himself to the Courts of Law. It was also agreed that the army had deserved ill of the Republic. It was resolved to prosecute21 at civil law the soldiers who had fired on the people, and a vote of sympathy was carried in favour of the relations of the killed and wounded, or martyrs22 as they were called.
This scene of impotence and futility23 was ended by the entrance of the remarkable24 man who had raised a party from the dust, and had led them from one success to another until it had seemed that the victory was won. Silence fell upon the assemblage; some stood up in respect; everyone wondered what he would say. How would he bear the crushing defeat that had fallen upon them? Would he despair of the movement? Would he be angry or sad or cynical25? Above all, what course would he propose?
He walked to the end of the long table around which the members were grouped, and sat down deliberately26. Then he looked round the room, with a face as calm and serene27 as ever. In that scene of confusion and indecision he looked magnificent. His very presence imparted a feeling of confidence to his followers28. His high and ample forehead might have contained the answer to every question; his determined29 composure seemed equal to the utmost stroke of Fate.
After a moment's pause, invited by the silence, he rose. His words were studiously moderate. It had been a disappointment to him, he said, to find that the registers had been mutilated. The ultimate success was deferred30, but it was only deferred. He had waited before coming to the Mayoralty to make a few calculations. They were necessarily rough and hurried, but he thought they were approximately correct. The President, it was true, would have a majority in the forthcoming Parliament, and a substantial majority; but they would win certain seats, in spite of the restricted electorate31; about fifty, he thought, in a house of three hundred. Smaller minorities than that had overthrown32 more powerful Governments. Every day added to their strength; every day increased the hatred33 of the Dictator. Besides, there were other alternatives than constitutional procedure,—and at these words some set their teeth and looked at each other in deep significance—but for the present they must wait; and they could afford to wait, for the prize was worth winning. It was the most precious possession in the world,—liberty. He sat down amid brighter faces and calmer minds. The deliberations were resumed. It was decided34 to relieve, out of the general funds of the party, those who were in poverty through the massacre9 of their relations; that would increase their popularity with the working classes, and might win the sympathy of foreign nations. A deputation should wait on the President to express the grief of the citizens at the mutilation of their ancient register, and to beg that he would restore their franchises35. It should also demand the punishment of the officers who had fired on the people, and should acquaint the President with the alarm and indignation of the city. Savrola, Godoy, and Renos were named as the members of the deputation, and the Reform Committee then dispersed36 quietly.
Moret lingered till the end and approached Savrola. He was surprised that he had not been suggested as a member of the deputation. He knew his leader much better than Renos, a pedantic37 lawyer who made few friends: he had followed Savrola from the beginning with blind enthusiasm and devotion; and he now felt hurt that he should be passed over like this.
"It has been a bad day for us," he said tentatively; and then as Savrola did not reply, he continued, "Who would have thought they would have dared to trick us?"
"It has been a very bad day,—for you," replied Savrola thoughtfully.
"For me? Why, what do you mean?"
"Have you reflected that you have forty human lives to answer for? Your speech was useless,—what good could it do? Their blood is on your head. The people too are cowed. Much harm has been done; it is your fault."
"My fault! I was furious,—he cheated us,—I thought only of revolt. I never dreamed you would sit down tamely like this. That devil should be killed now, at once,—before more mischief38 happens."
"Look here, Moret: I am as young as you; I feel as acutely; I am full of enthusiasm. I, too, hate Molara more than is wise or philosophic39; but I contain myself, when nothing is to be gained by giving way. Now mark my words. Either you learn to do so, or you can go your ways, for I will have none of you,—politically, that is,—as a friend, it is different."
He sat down and began to write a letter, while Moret, pale with that mortification40 which is made up of anger and self-reproach, and quivering under his rebuke41, left the room in haste.
Savrola remained. There was much business to do that evening; letters had to be written and read, the tone of the leading-articles in the Democratic Press explained, and many other matters decided. The machinery42 of a great party, and still more of a great conspiracy43, needed careful and constant attention. It was nine o'clock before he finished.
"Well, good-night, Godoy," he said to the Major; "we shall have another busy day to-morrow. We must contrive44 to frighten the Dictator. Let me know at what time he will give audience."
At the door of the Mayoralty he called a hackney-coach, a conveyance45 which neither the dulness of the social season nor the excitement of political affairs could restrain from its customary occupation. After a short drive he arrived at a small though not inelegant house, for he was a man of means, in the most fashionable quarter of the town. An old woman opened the door to his knock. She looked rejoiced to see him.
"La," she said, "I have had a fearful time with you away, and all this shooting and noise. But the afternoons are chilly46 now and you should have had your coat; I fear you will have a cold to-morrow."
"It is all right, Bettine," he answered kindly47; "I have a good chest, thanks to your care; but I am very tired. Send me some soup to my room; I will not dine to-night."
He went upstairs, while she bustled48 off to get him the best dinner she could improvise49. The apartments he lived in were on the second storey—a bedroom, a bathroom, and a study. They were small, but full of all that taste and luxury could devise and affection and industry preserve. A broad writing-table occupied the place of honour. It was arranged so that the light fell conveniently to the hand and head. A large bronze inkstand formed the centrepiece, with a voluminous blotting-book of simple manufacture spread open before it. The rest of the table was occupied by papers on files. The floor, in spite of the ample waste-paper basket, was littered with scraps50. It was the writing-table of a public man.
The room was lit by electric light in portable shaded lamps. The walls were covered with shelves, filled with well-used volumes. To that Pantheon of Literature none were admitted till they had been read and valued. It was a various library: the philosophy of Schopenhauer divided Kant from Hegel, who jostled the Memoirs51 of St. Simon and the latest French novel; RASSELAS and LA CURéE lay side by side; eight substantial volumes of Gibbon's famous History were not perhaps inappropriately prolonged by a fine edition of the DECAMERON; the ORIGIN OF SPECIES rested by the side of a black-letter Bible; THE REPUBLIC maintained an equilibrium52 with VANITY FAIR and the HISTORY OF EUROPEAN MORALS. A volume of Macaulay's Essays lay on the writing-table itself; it was open, and that sublime53 passage whereby the genius of one man has immortalised the genius of another was marked in pencil. And history, while for the warning of vehement54, high, and daring natures, she notes his many errors, will yet deliberately pronounce that among the eminent55 men whose bones lie near his, scarcely one has left a more stainless56, and none a more splendid name.
A half-empty box of cigarettes stood on a small table near a low leathern armchair, and by its side lay a heavy army-revolver, against the barrel of which the ashes of many cigarettes had been removed. In the corner of the room stood a small but exquisite57 Capitoline Venus, the cold chastity of its colour reproaching the allurements58 of its form. It was the chamber59 of a philosopher, but of no frigid60, academic recluse61; it was the chamber of a man, a human man, who appreciated all earthly pleasures, appraised62 them at their proper worth, enjoyed, and despised them.
There were still some papers and telegrams lying unopened on the table, but Savrola was tired; they could, or at any rate should wait till the morning. He dropped into his chair. Yes, it had been a long day, and a gloomy day. He was a young man, only thirty-two, but already he felt the effects of work and worry. His nervous temperament63 could not fail to be excited by the vivid scenes through which he had lately passed, and the repression64 of his emotion only heated the inward fire. Was it worth it? The struggle, the labour, the constant rush of affairs, the sacrifice of so many things that make life easy, or pleasant—for what? A people's good! That, he could not disguise from himself, was rather the direction than the cause of his efforts. Ambition was the motive65 force, and he was powerless to resist it. He could appreciate the delights of an artist, a life devoted66 to the search for beauty, or of sport, the keenest pleasure that leaves no sting behind. To live in dreamy quiet and philosophic calm in some beautiful garden, far from the noise of men and with every diversion that art and intellect could suggest, was, he felt, a more agreeable picture. And yet he knew that he could not endure it. 'Vehement, high, and daring' was his cast of mind. The life he lived was the only one he could ever live; he must go on to the end. The end comes often early to such men, whose spirits are so wrought67 that they know rest only in action, contentment in danger, and in confusion find their only peace.
His thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of the old woman with a tray. He was tired, but the decencies of life had to be observed; he rose, and passed into the inner room to change his clothes and make his toilet. When he returned, the table was laid; the soup he had asked for had been expanded by the care of his house-keeper into a more elaborate meal. She waited on him, plying68 him the while with questions and watching his appetite with anxious pleasure. She had nursed him from his birth up with a devotion and care which knew no break. It is a strange thing, the love of these women. Perhaps it is the only disinterested69 affection in the world. The mother loves her child; that is material nature. The youth loves his sweetheart; that too may be explained. The dog loves his master; he feeds him; a man loves his friend; he has stood by him perhaps at doubtful moments. In all there are reasons; but the love of a foster-mother for her charge appears absolutely irrational70. It is one of the few proofs, not to be explained even by the association of ideas, that the nature of mankind is superior to mere71 utilitarianism, and that his destinies are high.
The light and frugal72 supper finished, the old woman departed with the plates, and he fell to his musings again. Several difficult affairs impended73 in the future, about the conduct of which he was doubtful. He dismissed them from his mind; why should he be always oppressed with matters of fact? What of the night? He rose, walked to the window, and drawing the curtains looked out. The street was very quiet, but in the distance he thought he heard the tramp of a patrol. All the houses were dark and sullen74; overhead the stars shone brightly; it was a perfect night to watch them.
He closed the window and taking a candle walked to a curtained door on one side of the room; it opened on a narrow, spiral stair which led to the flat roof. Most of the houses in Laurania were low, and Savrola when he reached the leads overlooked the sleeping city. Lines of gas-lamps marked the streets and squares, and brighter dots indicated the positions of the shipping75 in the harbour. But he did not long look at these; he was for the moment weary of men and their works. A small glass observatory76 stood in one corner of this aerial platform, the nose of the telescope showing through the aperture77. He unlocked the door and entered. This was a side of his life that the world never saw; he was no mathematician78 intent on discovery or fame, but he loved to watch the stars for the sake of their mysteries. By a few manipulations the telescope was directed at the beautiful planet of Jupiter, at this time high in the northern sky. The glass was a powerful one, and the great planet, surrounded by his attendant moons, glowed with splendour. The clock-work gear enabled him to keep it under continual observation as the earth rolled over with the hours. Long he watched it, becoming each moment more under the power of the spell that star-gazing exercises on curious, inquiring humanity.
At last he rose, his mind still far away from earth. Molara, Moret, the Party, the exciting scenes of the day, all seemed misty79 and unreal; another world, a world more beautiful, a world of boundless80 possibilities, enthralled81 his imagination. He thought of the future of Jupiter, of the incomprehensible periods of time that would elapse before the cooling process would render life possible on its surface, of the slow steady march of evolution, merciless, inexorable. How far would it carry them, the unborn inhabitants of an embryo82 world? Perhaps only to some vague distortion of the vital essence; perhaps further than he could dream of. All the problems would be solved, all the obstacles overcome; life would attain83 perfect developement. And then fancy, overleaping space and time, carried the story to periods still more remote. The cooling process would continue; the perfect developement of life would end in death; the whole solar system, the whole universe itself, would one day be cold and lifeless as a burned-out firework.
It was a mournful conclusion. He locked up the observatory and descended84 the stairs, hoping that his dreams would contradict his thoughts.
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1
barricades
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| 路障，障碍物( barricade的名词复数 ) | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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acquiescent
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| adj.默许的，默认的 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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censure
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| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
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comity
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| n.礼让，礼仪；团结，联合 | |
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vindicate
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| v.为…辩护或辩解，辩明；证明…正确 | |
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deposition
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| n.免职，罢官；作证；沉淀；沉淀物 | |
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violation
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| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
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preamble
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| n.前言；序文 | |
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dilate
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| vt.使膨胀，使扩大 | |
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forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prosecute
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| vt.告发；进行；vi.告发，起诉，作检察官 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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electorate
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| n.全体选民；选区 | |
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overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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franchises
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| n.（尤指选举议员的）选举权( franchise的名词复数 )；参政权；获特许权的商业机构（或服务）；（公司授予的）特许经销权v.给…以特许权，出售特许权( franchise的第三人称单数 ) | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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pedantic
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| adj.卖弄学问的；迂腐的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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46
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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improvise
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| v.即兴创作；临时准备，临时凑成 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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memoirs
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| n.回忆录；回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
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52
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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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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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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stainless
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| adj.无瑕疵的，不锈的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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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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frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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appraised
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| v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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repression
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| n.镇压，抑制，抑压 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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irrational
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| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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72
frugal
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| adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的 | |
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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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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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observatory
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| n.天文台，气象台，瞭望台，观测台 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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mathematician
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| n.数学家 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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80
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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enthralled
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| 迷住，吸引住( enthrall的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到非常愉快 | |
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embryo
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| n.胚胎，萌芽的事物 | |
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83
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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84
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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