"Ain't it a norrid smell," said the beadle.
Then the plain-looking man who had been at Sweeney Todd's advanced. He was no other than Sir Richard Blunt, and whispering to the churchwarden, he said—
"If what I expect be found here, we cannot have too few witnesses to it. Let the workmen be dismissed."
"As you please, Sir Richard. Faugh! what an awful—fuff!—stench there is. I have no doubt they won't be sorry to get away. Here, my men, here's half-a-crown for you. Go and get something to drink and come back in an hour."
"Thank yer honour!" cried one of the men. "An' sure, by St. Patrick's bones, we want something to drink, for the stench in the church sticks in my blessed throat like a marrow3 bone, so it does."
"Get out," said the beadle; "I hates low people, and hirish. They thinks no more of beetles4 than nothink in the world."
The workmen retired5, laughing; and when the church was clear of them, the churchwarden said to Sir Richard Blunt—
"Did you ever, Sir Richard, smell such a horrid6 charnel-house sort of stench as comes up from that opening in the floor of the old church?"
Sir Richard shook his head, and was about to say something, when the sound of a footstep upon the pavement of the church made him look round, and he saw a fat, pursy-looking individual approaching.
"Oh, it's Mr. Vickley, the overseer," said the beadle. "I hopes as yer is well, Mr. Vickley. Here's a horrid smell."
"God bless me!" cried the overseer, as with his fat finger and thumb he held his snub nose. "What's this? It's worse and worse."
"Yes, sir," said the beadle; "talking of the smell, we have let the cat out of the bag, I think."
"Good gracious! put her in again, then. It can't be a cat."
"Begging your pardon, Mr. Vickley, I only spoke7 anatomically. If you comes here, sir, you'll find that all the smell comes out of this here opening."
"What! An opening close to my pew! My family pew, where I every Sunday enjoy my repose—I mean my hopes of everlasting8 glory? Upon my life, I think it's a piece of—of d—d impudence9 to open the floor of the church, close to my pew. If there was to be anything of the sort done, couldn't it have been done somewhere among the free sittings, I should like to know?"
"Mr. Vickley," said Sir Richard, "pray be satisfied that I have sufficient authority for what I do here; and if I had thought it necessary to take up the flooring of your pew while you had been in it, I should have done it."
"And pray, sir," said Mr. Vickley, swelling10 himself out to as large a size as possible, and glancing at his watch chain, to see that all the seals hung upon the convexity of his paunch as usual—"who are you?"
"Oh, dear—oh, dear," said the beadle. "Conwulsions!—conwulsions! What a thing it is to see authorities a-going it at each other. Gentlemen—gentlemen. Conwulsions!—ain't there lots of poor people in the world? Don't you be a-going it at each other."
"I am a magistrate," said Sir Richard.
"And I am an over—seer. Ah!"
"You may be an overseer or an underseer, if you like. I am going to search the vaults11 of St. Dunstan's."
The churchwarden now took the overseer aside, and after a while succeeded in calming down his irascibility.
"Oh, well—well," said Mr. Vickley. "Authorities is authorities; and if so be as the horrid smell in the church can be got rid of, I'm as willing as possible. It has often prevented me sleeping—I mean listening to the sermon. Your servant, sir—I shall, of course, be very happy to assist you."
The beadle wiped his face with his large yellow handkerchief as he said—
"Now this here is delightful13 and affecting, to see authorities agreeing together. Lord, why should authorities snap each other's noses off, when there's lots o' poor people as can be said anything to and done anything to, and they may snap themselves?"
"Well, well," added Mr. Vickley. "I am quite satisfied. Of course, if there's anything disagreeable to be done in a church, and it can be done among the free seats, it's all the better; and indeed, if the smell in St. Dunstan's could have been kept away from the respectable part of the congregation, I don't know that it would have mattered much."
"Conwulsions!" cried the beadle. "It wouldn't have mattered at all, gentlemen. But only think o' the bishop14 smelling it. Upon my life, gentlemen, I did think, when I saw the Right Rev12. Father in God's nose a looking up and down, like a cat when she smells a bunch o' lights, and knowed as it was all owing to the smell in the church, I did think as I could have gone down through the floor, cocked hat and all, that I did. Conwulsions—that was a moment."
"It was," said the churchwarden.
"Mercy—mercy," said Mr. Vickley.
The beadle was so affected15 at the remembrance of what had happened at the confirmation16, that he was forced to blow his nose with an energy that produced a trumpet-like sound in the empty church, and echoed again from nave17 to gallery. Sir Richard Blunt had let all the discourse18 go on without paying the least attention to it. He was quietly waiting for the foul19 vapours that arose from the vaults beneath the church to dissipate a little before he ventured upon exploring them. Now, however, he advanced and spoke.
"Gentlemen, I hope I shall be able to rid St. Dunstan's of the stench which for a long time has given it so unenviable a reputation."
"If you can do that," said the churchwarden, "you will delight the whole parish. It has been a puzzle to us all where the stench could come from."
"Where is the puzzle now?" said Sir Richard Blunt, as he pointed20 to the opening in the floor of the church, from whence issued like a steamy vapour such horrible exhalations.
"Why, certainly it must come from the vaults."
"But," said the overseer, "the parish books show that there has not been any one buried in any of the vaults directly beneath the church for thirty years."
"Then," said the beadle, "it's a very wrong thing of respectable parishioners—for, of course, them as has waults is respectable—to keep quiet for thirty years and then begin stinking21 like blazes. It's uncommon22 wrong—conwulsions!"
Sir Richard Blunt took a paper from his pocket and unfolded it.
"From this plan," he said, "that I have procured23 of the vaults of St. Dunstan's, it appears that the stone we have raised, and which was numbered thirty, discloses a stone staircase communicating with two passages, from which all the vaults can be reached. I propose searching them; and now, gentlemen, and you, Mr. Beadle, listen to me."
They all three looked at him with surprise as he took another letter from his pocket.
"Here," he said, "are a few words from the Secretary of State. Pray read them, Mr. Vickley."
The overseer read as follows—
"The Secretary of State presents his compliments to Sir Richard Blunt, and begs to say that as regards the affair at St. Dunstan's, Sir Richard is to consider himself armed with any extraordinary powers he may consider necessary."
"Now, gentlemen," added Sir Richard Blunt, "if you will descend24 with me into the vaults, all I require of you is the most profound secrecy25 with regard to what you may see there. Do you fully26 understand?"
"Then, sir, be silent regarding the going of others. Will you go, sir?" to the churchwarden.
"Why yes, I—I think I ought."
"I shall be obliged to go. I may feel the want of a witness. We will take you with us, Mr. Beadle, of course."
"Me—me? Conwulsions!"
"Yes—yes. You go, you know, ex officio."
"Ex, the deuce, I don't want to go. Oh conwulsions! conwulsions!"
"We cannot dispense28 with your services," said the churchwarden. "If you refuse to go, it will be my duty to lay your conduct before the vestry."
"Oh—oh—oh!"
"Get a torch," said Sir Richard Blunt, "and I will lower it down the opening in the floor. If the air is not so bad as to extinguish the light, it will not be too bad for us to breathe for a short space of time."
Most reluctantly, and with terrible misgivings29 of what might be the result of the frightful30 adventure into which he was about to be dragged, the beadle fetched a link from the vestry. It was lighted, and Sir Richard Blunt tying a string to it, let it down into the passage beneath the church. The light was not extinguished, but it burnt feebly and with but a wan2 and sickly lustre31.
"It will do," said Sir Richard. "We can live in that place, although a protracted32 stay might be fatal. Follow me; I will go first, and I hope we shall not have our trouble only for our pains."
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1
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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4
beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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5
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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6
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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7
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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8
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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9
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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10
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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11
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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12
rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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13
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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14
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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15
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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16
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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17
nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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18
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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19
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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20
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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22
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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23
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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24
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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25
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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26
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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27
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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29
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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30
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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31
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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32
protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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