He saw she had exposed herself to a rebuff with her eyes open, and wondered why she had done so. Of course she counted on her charms. It is hard, if not impossible, to snub a beautiful woman; they remain beautiful and the rebuke5 recoils6. He might indeed have made political capital out of so pressing an invitation sent at such a critical time; but he felt she had judged him well, and knew she was safe at least from that. This pleased him. He was sorry he could not go; but he had made up his mind, and sat down to write and decline. Half way through the letter, he paused; the thought occurred to him, that perhaps she might stand in need of his help. He read the letter again and fancied, though the words did not warrant it, that he detected a note of appeal. And then he began to look for reasons for changing his mind: the old established custom; the necessity of showing his followers7 that for the present he was in favour of constitutional agitation9 only; the opportunity of displaying his confidence in the success of his plans; in fact, every argument, but the true one, was arrayed against his determination.
Yes, he would go: the party might object, but he did not care; it was none of their business, and he was strong enough to face their displeasure. These reflections were interrupted by the entrance of Moret, his face glowing with enthusiasm.
"The Central Division Committee have nominated you unanimously as their candidate at the elections. The Dictator's puppet, Tranta, was howled down. I have arranged for a public meeting on Thursday night for you to address. We are on the crest10 of the wave!"
"Capital!" said Savrola. "I had expected to be nominated; our influence in the capital is supreme11. I am glad of an opportunity of speaking; I have not had a meeting for some time, and there is a good deal to talk about just now. What day did you say you had arranged it for?"
"Thursday in the City-Hall at eight in the evening," said Moret, who, though sanguine12, was not unbusiness-like.
"Thursday?"
"Yes, you are not engaged anywhere."
"Well," said Savrola speaking slowly and appearing to weigh his words, "Thursday is the night of the State Ball."
"I know," said Moret, "that was why I arranged it so. They will feel they are dancing on a volcano; only a mile from the palace will be the people, massed, agreed, determined13. Molara will not enjoy his evening; Louvet will not go; Sorrento will be making arrangements to massacre14, if necessary. It will spoil the festivities; they will all see the writing on the wall."
"Thursday will not do, Moret."
"Not do! Why not?"
"Because I am going to the ball that night," said Savrola deliberately15.
"Most certainly I shall go. The ancient customs of the State cannot be set aside like this. It is my duty to go; we are fighting for the Constitution, and we are bound to show our respect for its principles."
"You will accept Molara's hospitality,—enter his house,—eat his food?"
"No," said Savrola; "I shall eat the food provided by the State. As you well know, the expenses of these official functions are chargeable to the public."
"You will talk to him?"
"Certainly, but he will not enjoy it."
"You will insult him, then?"
"My dear Moret, what should make you think that? I shall be very civil. That will frighten him most of all; he will not know what is impending17."
"You cannot go," said Moret decidedly.
"Indeed I am going."
"Think what the Trade-unions will say."
"I have thought about all these things and have made up my mind," said Savrola. "They may say what they like. It will show them that I do not intend to discard Constitutional methods for a long time yet. These people want their enthusiasm cooling from time to time; they take life too seriously."
"They will accuse you of betraying the cause."
"I have no doubt stupid people will make characteristic remarks, but I trust none of my friends will bore me by repeating them to me."
"What will Strelitz say? It will very likely make him cross the frontier with his followers. He thinks we are lukewarm, and has been growing more impatient every week."
"If he comes before we are ready to help, the troops will make short work of him and his rabble18. But he has definite orders from me and will, I hope, obey them."
"You are doing wrong, and you know it," said Moret harshly and savagely19; "to say nothing of the contemptible20 humiliation21 of cringing22 to your enemy."
Savrola smiled at his follower8's anger. "Oh," he said, "I shall not cringe. Come, you have not yet seen me do that," and he put his hand on his companion's arm. "It is strange, Louis," he continued, "that we differ in so many things, and yet, if I were in difficulty and doubt, there is no one to whom I would go sooner than to you. We squabble about trifles, but if it were a great matter, your judgment23 should rule me, and you know it well."
Moret yielded. He always yielded to Savrola when he talked like that. "Well," he said, "when will you speak?"
"Whenever you like."
"Friday, then, the sooner the better."
"Very well; do you make the arrangements; I will find something to say."
"I wish you were not going," said Moret, reverting24 to his former objection; "nothing on earth would induce me to go."
"Moret," said Savrola with strange earnestness, "we have settled that; there are other things to talk about. I am troubled in my mind. There is an undercurrent of agitation, the force of which I cannot gauge25. I am the acknowledged leader of the party, but sometimes I realise that there are agencies at work, which I do not control. That secret society they call the League is an unknown factor. I hate that fellow, that German fellow, Kreutze, Number One as he styles himself. He is the source of all the opposition26 I encounter in the party itself; the Labour Delegates all seem to be under his influence. Indeed there are moments when I think that you and I and Godoy and all who are striving for the old Constitution, are but the political waves of a social tide that is flowing we know not whither. Perhaps I am wrong, but I keep my eyes open and their evidence makes me thoughtful. The future is inscrutable but appalling27; you must stand by me. When I can no longer restrain and control, I will no longer lead."
"The League is nothing," said Moret, "but a small anarchist28 group, who have thrown in their lot, for the present, with us. You are the indispensable leader of the party; you have created the agitation, and it is in your hands to stimulate29 or allay30 it. There are no unknown forces; you are the motive31 power."
Savrola walked to the window. "Look out over the city," he said. "It is a great mass of buildings; three hundred thousand people live there. Consider its size; think of the latent potentialities it contains, and then look at this small room. Do you think I am what I am, because I have changed all those minds, or because I best express their views? Am I their master or their slave? Believe me, I have no illusions, nor need you."
His manner impressed his follower. It almost seemed to him, as he watched the city and listened to Savrola's earnest words, that he heard the roar of a multitude, distant, subdued32, but intense as the thunder of the surf upon a rocky coast when the wind is off the sea. He did not reply. His highly wrought33 temperament34 exaggerated every mood and passion; he always lived in the superlative. He had no counterpoise of healthy cynicism. Now he was very solemn, and bidding Savrola good-morning, walked slowly down the stairs, swayed by the vibrations35 of a powerful imagination which had been stimulated36 to an extreme.
Savrola lay back in his chair. His first inclination37 was to laugh, but he realised that his mirth would not be entirely38 at Moret's expense. He had tried to trick himself as well, but the parts of that subtle brain were too intimately connected to have secrets from one another. Still he would not allow them to formulate39 the true reason of his change of mind. It was not so, he said to himself several times, and even if it were it was of no importance and signified nothing. He took a cigarette from his case, and lighting40 it, watched the coiling rings of smoke.
How much of what he had said had he believed? He thought of Moret's serious face; that was not entirely produced by his influence. The young revolutionist had noticed something too, but had feared, or failed, to reduce his impressions to words. There was an undercurrent then; there were many dangers ahead. Well, he did not care; he was confident in his own powers. As the difficulties arose, he would meet them; when dangers threatened he would overcome them. Horse, foot, and artillery41, he was a man, a complete entity42. Under any circumstances, in any situation he knew himself a factor to be reckoned with; whatever the game, he would play it to his amusement, if not to his advantage.
The smoke of his cigarette curled round his head. Life,—how unreal, how barren, and yet, how fascinating! Fools, calling themselves philosophers, had tried to bring home the bitter fact to men. His philosophy lent itself to a pious43 fraud—taught him to minimise the importance of his pains, and to magnify that of his pleasures; made life delightful44 and death incidental. Zeno had shown him how to face adversity, and Epicurus how to enjoy pleasure. He basked45 in the smiles of fortune, and shrugged46 his shoulders at the frowns of fate. His existence, or series of existences, had been agreeable. All that he remembered had been worth living. If there was a future state, if the game was to begin again elsewhere, he would take a hand. He hoped for immortality47, but he contemplated48 annihilation with composure. Meanwhile the business of living was an interesting problem. His speech,—he had made many and knew that nothing good can be obtained without effort. These impromptu49 feats50 of oratory51 existed only in the minds of the listeners; the flowers of rhetoric52 were hothouse plants.
What was there to say? Successive cigarettes had been mechanically consumed. Amid the smoke he saw a peroration53, which would cut deep into the hearts of a crowd; a high thought, a fine simile54, expressed in that correct diction which is comprehensible even to the most illiterate55, and appeals to the most simple; something to lift their minds from the material cares of life and to awake sentiment. His ideas began to take the form of words, to group themselves into sentences; he murmured to himself; the rhythm of his own language swayed him; instinctively56 he alliterated. Ideas succeeded one another, as a stream flows swiftly by and the light changes on its waters. He seized a piece of paper and began hurriedly to pencil notes. That was a point; could not tautology57 accentuate58 it? He scribbled59 down a rough sentence, scratched it out, polished it, and wrote it in again. The sound would please their ears, the sense improve and stimulate their minds. What a game it was! His brain contained the cards he had to play, the world the stakes he played for.
As he worked, the hours passed away. The housekeeper60 entering with his luncheon61 found him silent and busy; she had seen him thus before and did not venture to interrupt him. The untasted food grew cold upon the table, as the hands of the clock moved slowly round marking the measured tread of time. Presently he rose, and, completely under the influence of his own thoughts and language, began to pace the room with short rapid strides, speaking to himself in a low voice and with great emphasis. Suddenly he stopped, and with a strange violence his hand descended62 on the table. It was the end of the speech.
The noise recalled him to the commonplaces of life. He was hungry and tired, and with a laugh at his own enthusiasm sat down at the table and began his neglected luncheon.
A dozen sheets of note paper, covered with phrases, facts, and figures, were the result of the morning's work. They lay pinned together on the table, harmless insignificant63 pieces of paper; and yet Antonio Molara, President of the Republic of Laurania, would have feared a bombshell less. Nor would he have been either a fool or a coward.
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1
founders
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| n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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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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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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recoils
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| n.（尤指枪炮的）反冲，后坐力( recoil的名词复数 )v.畏缩( recoil的第三人称单数 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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7
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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8
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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13
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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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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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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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
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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23
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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24
reverting
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| 恢复( revert的现在分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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25
gauge
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| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
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26
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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anarchist
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| n.无政府主义者 | |
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29
stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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allay
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| v.消除，减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
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31
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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32
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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33
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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35
vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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36
stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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37
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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38
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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39
formulate
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| v.用公式表示；规划；设计；系统地阐述 | |
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40
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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41
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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42
entity
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| n.实体，独立存在体，实际存在物 | |
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43
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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44
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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45
basked
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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46
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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47
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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48
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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50
feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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51
oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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52
rhetoric
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| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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53
peroration
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| n.（演说等之）结论 | |
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54
simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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55
illiterate
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| adj.文盲的；无知的；n.文盲 | |
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56
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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57
tautology
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| n.无谓的重复；恒真命题 | |
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58
accentuate
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| v.着重，强调 | |
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59
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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60
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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61
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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62
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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