Somerset in vain strove to attach a meaning to these words. He had, in the meanwhile, applied1 himself assiduously to the flagon; the plotter began to melt in twain, and seemed to expand and hover2 on his seat; and with a vague sense of nightmare, the young man rose unsteadily to his feet, and, refusing the proffer3 of a third grog, insisted that the hour was late and he must positively4 get to bed.
‘Dear me,’ observed Zero, ‘I find you very temperate5. But I will not be oppressive. Suffice it that we are now fast friends; and, my dear landlord, au revoir!’
So saying the plotter once more shook hands; and with the politest ceremonies, and some necessary guidance, conducted the bewildered young gentleman to the top of the stair.
Precisely6, how he got to bed, was a point on which Somerset remained in utter darkness; but the next morning when, at a blow, he started broad awake, there fell upon his mind a perfect hurricane of horror and wonder. That he should have suffered himself to be led into the semblance7 of intimacy8 with such a man as his abominable9 lodger10, appeared, in the cold light of day, a mystery of human weakness. True, he was caught in a situation that might have tested the aplomb11 of Talleyrand. That was perhaps a palliation; but it was no excuse. For so wholesale12 a capitulation of principle, for such a fall into criminal familiarity, no excuse indeed was possible; nor any remedy, but to withdraw at once from the relation.
As soon as he was dressed, he hurried upstairs, determined13 on a rupture14. Zero hailed him with the warmth of an old friend.
‘Come in,’ he cried, ‘dear Mr. Somerset! Come in, sit down, and, without ceremony, join me at my morning meal.’
‘Sir,’ said Somerset, ‘you must permit me first to disengage my honour. Last night, I was surprised into a certain appearance of complicity; but once for all, let me inform you that I regard you and your machinations with unmingled horror and disgust, and I will leave no stone unturned to crush your vile15 conspiracy16.’
‘My dear fellow,’ replied Zero, with an air of some complacency, ‘I am well accustomed to these human weaknesses. Disgust? I have felt it myself; it speedily wears off. I think none the worse, I think the more of you, for this engaging frankness. And in the meanwhile, what are you to do? You find yourself, if I interpret rightly, in very much the same situation as Charles the Second (possibly the least degraded of your British sovereigns) when he was taken into the confidence of the thief. To denounce me, is out of the question; and what else can you attempt? No, dear Mr. Somerset, your hands are tied; and you find yourself condemned17, under pain of behaving like a cad, to be that same charming and intellectual companion who delighted me last night.’
‘At least,’ cried Somerset, ‘I can, and do, order you to leave this house.’
‘Ah!’ cried the plotter, ‘but there I fail to follow you. You may, if you please, enact18 the part of Judas; but if, as I suppose, you recoil19 from that extremity20 of meanness, I am, on my side, far too intelligent to leave these lodgings21, in which I please myself exceedingly, and from which you lack the power to drive me. No, no, dear sir; here I am, and here I propose to stay.’
‘I repeat,’ cried Somerset, beside himself with a sense of his own weakness, ‘I repeat that I give you warning. I am the master of this house; and I emphatically give you warning.’
‘A week’s warning?’ said the imperturbable23 conspirator24. ‘Very well: we will talk of it a week from now. That is arranged; and in the meanwhile, I observe my breakfast growing cold. Do, dear Mr. Somerset, since you find yourself condemned, for a week at least, to the society of a very interesting character, display some of that open favour, some of that interest in life’s obscurer sides, which stamp the character of the true artist. Hang me, if you will, to-morrow; but to-day show yourself divested25 of the scruples26 of the burgess, and sit down pleasantly to share my meal.’
‘Man!’ cried Somerset, ‘do you understand my sentiments?’
‘Certainly,’ replied Zero; ‘and I respect them! Would you be outdone in such a contest? will you alone be partial? and in this nineteenth century, cannot two gentlemen of education agree to differ on a point of politics? Come, sir: all your hard words have left me smiling; judge then, which of us is the philosopher!’
Somerset was a young man of a very tolerant disposition27 and by nature easily amenable28 to sophistry29. He threw up his hands with a gesture of despair, and took the seat to which the conspirator invited him. The meal was excellent; the host not only affable, but primed with curious information. He seemed, indeed, like one who had too long endured the torture of silence, to exult30 in the most wholesale disclosures. The interest of what he had to tell was great; his character, besides, developed step by step; and Somerset, as the time fled, not only outgrew31 some of the discomfort32 of his false position, but began to regard the conspirator with a familiarity that verged33 upon contempt. In any circumstances, he had a singular inability to leave the society in which he found himself; company, even if distasteful, held him captive like a limed sparrow; and on this occasion, he suffered hour to follow hour, was easily persuaded to sit down once more to table, and did not even attempt to withdraw till, on the approach of evening, Zero, with many apologies, dismissed his guest. His fellow-conspirators, the dynamiter34 handsomely explained, as they were unacquainted with the sterling36 qualities of the young man, would be alarmed at the sight of a strange face.
As soon as he was alone, Somerset fell back upon the humour of the morning. He raged at the thought of his facility; he paced the dining-room, forming the sternest resolutions for the future; he wrung37 the hand which had been dishonoured38 by the touch of an assassin; and among all these whirling thoughts, there flashed in from time to time, and ever with a chill of fear, the thought of the confounded ingredients with which the house was stored. A powder magazine seemed a secure smoking-room alongside of the Superfluous39 Mansion40.
He sought refuge in flight, in locomotion41, in the flowing bowl. As long as the bars were open, he travelled from one to another, seeking light, safety, and the companionship of human faces; when these resources failed him, he fell back on the belated baked-potato man; and at length, still pacing the streets, he was goaded42 to fraternise with the police. Alas43, with what a sense of guilt44 he conversed45 with these guardians46 of the law; how gladly had he wept upon their ample bosoms47; and how the secret fluttered to his lips and was still denied an exit! Fatigue48 began at last to triumph over remorse49; and about the hour of the first milkman, he returned to the door of the mansion; looked at it with a horrid50 expectation, as though it should have burst that instant into flames; drew out his key, and when his foot already rested on the steps, once more lost heart and fled for repose51 to the grisly shelter of a coffee-shop.
It was on the stroke of noon when he awoke. Dismally52 searching in his pockets, he found himself reduced to half-a-crown; and when he had paid the price of his distasteful couch, saw himself obliged to return to the Superfluous Mansion. He sneaked53 into the hall and stole on tiptoe to the cupboard where he kept his money. Yet half a minute, he told himself, and he would be free for days from his obseding lodger, and might decide at leisure on the course he should pursue. But fate had otherwise designed: there came a tap at the door and Zero entered.
‘Have I caught you?’ he cried, with innocent gaiety. ‘Dear fellow, I was growing quite impatient.’ And on the speaker’s somewhat stolid54 face, there came a glow of genuine affection. ‘I am so long unused to have a friend,’ he continued, ‘that I begin to be afraid I may prove jealous.’ And he wrung the hand of his landlord.
Somerset was, of all men, least fit to deal with such a greeting. To reject these kind advances was beyond his strength. That he could not return cordiality for cordiality, was already almost more than he could carry. That inequality between kind sentiments which, to generous characters, will always seem to be a sort of guilt, oppressed him to the ground; and he stammered55 vague and lying words.
‘That is all right,’ cried Zero —‘that is as it should be — say no more! I had a vague alarm; I feared you had deserted56 me; but I now own that fear to have been unworthy, and apologise. To doubt of your forgiveness were to repeat my sin. Come, then; dinner waits; join me again and tell me your adventures of the night.’
Kindness still sealed the lips of Somerset; and he suffered himself once more to be set down to table with his innocent and criminal acquaintance. Once more, the plotter plunged57 up to the neck in damaging disclosures: now it would be the name and biography of an individual, now the address of some important centre, that rose, as if by accident, upon his lips; and each word was like another turn of the thumbscrew to his unhappy guest. Finally, the course of Zero’s bland58 monologue59 led him to the young lady of two days ago: that young lady, who had flashed on Somerset for so brief a while but with so conquering a charm; and whose engaging grace, communicative eyes, and admirable conduct of the sweeping60 skirt, remained imprinted61 on his memory.
‘You saw her?’ said Zero. ‘Beautiful, is she not? She, too, is one of ours: a true enthusiast62: nervous, perhaps, in presence of the chemicals; but in matters of intrigue63, the very soul of skill and daring. Lake, Fonblanque, de Marly, Valdevia, such are some of the names that she employs; her true name — but there, perhaps, I go too far. Suffice it, that it is to her I owe my present lodging22, and, dear Somerset, the pleasure of your acquaintance. It appears she knew the house. You see dear fellow, I make no concealment64: all that you can care to hear, I tell you openly.’
‘For God’s sake,’ cried the wretched Somerset, ‘hold your tongue! You cannot imagine how you torture me!’
A shade of serious discomposure crossed the open countenance65 of Zero.
‘There are times,’ he said, ‘when I begin to fancy that you do not like me. Why, why, dear Somerset, this lack of cordiality? I am depressed66; the touchstone of my life draws near; and if I fail’— he gloomily nodded —‘from all the height of my ambitious schemes, I fall, dear boy, into contempt. These are grave thoughts, and you may judge my need of your delightful67 company. Innocent prattler68, you relieve the weight of my concerns. And yet . . . and yet . . .’ The speaker pushed away his plate, and rose from table. ‘Follow me,’ said he, ‘follow me. My mood is on; I must have air, I must behold69 the plain of battle.’
So saying, he led the way hurriedly to the top flat of the mansion, and thence, by ladder and trap, to a certain leaded platform, sheltered at one end by a great stalk of chimneys and occupying the actual summit of the roof. On both sides, it bordered, without parapet or rail, on the incline of slates70; and, northward71 above all, commanded an extensive view of housetops, and rising through the smoke, the distant spires72 of churches.
‘Here,’ cried Zero, ‘you behold this field of city, rich, crowded, laughing with the spoil of continents; but soon, how soon, to be laid low! Some day, some night, from this coign of vantage, you shall perhaps be startled by the detonation73 of the judgment74 gun — not sharp and empty like the crack of cannon75, but deep-mouthed and unctuously76 solemn. Instantly thereafter, you shall behold the flames break forth77. Ay,’ he cried, stretching forth his hand, ‘ay, that will be a day of retribution. Then shall the pallid78 constable79 flee side by side with the detected thief. Blaze!’ he cried, ‘blaze, derided80 city! Fall, flatulent monarchy81, fall like Dagon!’
With these words his foot slipped upon the lead; and but for Somerset’s quickness, he had been instantly precipitated82 into space. Pale as a sheet, and limp as a pocket-handkerchief, he was dragged from the edge of downfall by one arm; helped, or rather carried, down the ladder; and deposited in safety on the attic83 landing. Here he began to come to himself, wiped his brow, and at length, seizing Somerset’s hand in both of his, began to utter his acknowledgments.
‘This seals it,’ said he. ‘Ours is a life and death connection. You have plucked me from the jaws84 of death; and if I were before attracted by your character, judge now of the ardour of my gratitude86 and love! But I perceive I am still greatly shaken. Lend me, I beseech87 you, lend me your arm as far as my apartment.’
A dram of spirits restored the plotter to something of his customary self-possession; and he was standing88, glass in hand and genially89 convalescent, when his eye was attracted by the dejection of the unfortunate young man.
‘Good heavens, dear Somerset,’ he cried, ‘what ails90 you? Let me offer you a touch of spirits.’
But Somerset had fallen below the reach of this material comfort.
‘Let me be,’ he said. ‘I am lost; you have caught me in the toils91. Up to this moment, I have lived all my life in the most reckless manner, and done exactly what I pleased, with the most perfect innocence92. And now — what am I? Are you so blind and wooden that you do not see the loathing93 you inspire me with? Is it possible you can suppose me willing to continue to exist upon such terms? To think,’ he cried, ‘that a young man, guilty of no fault on earth but amiability94, should find himself involved in such a damned imbroglio95!’ And placing his knuckles96 in his eyes, Somerset rolled upon the sofa.
‘My God,’ said Zero, ‘is this possible? And I so filled with tenderness and interest! Can it be, dear Somerset, that you are under the empire of these out-worn scruples? or that you judge a patriot97 by the morality of the religious tract85? I thought you were a good agnostic.’
‘Mr. Jones,’ said Somerset, ‘it is in vain to argue. I boast myself a total disbeliever, not only in revealed religion, but in the data, method, and conclusions of the whole of ethics98. Well! what matters it? what signifies a form of words? I regard you as a reptile99, whom I would rejoice, whom I long, to stamp under my heel. You would blow up others? Well then, understand: I want, with every circumstance of infamy100 and agony, to blow up you!’
‘Somerset, Somerset!’ said Zero, turning very pale, ‘this is wrong; this is very wrong. You pain, you wound me, Somerset.’
‘Give me a match!’ cried Somerset wildly. ‘Let me set fire to this incomparable monster! Let me perish with him in his fall!’
‘For God’s sake,’ cried Zero, clutching hold of the young man, ‘for God’s sake command yourself! We stand upon the brink101; death yawns around us; a man — a stranger in this foreign land — one whom you have called your friend —’
‘Silence!’ cried Somerset, ‘you are no friend, no friend of mine. I look on you with loathing, like a toad102: my flesh creeps with physical repulsion; my soul revolts against the sight of you.’
Zero burst into tears. ‘Alas!’ he sobbed103, ‘this snaps the last link that bound me to humanity. My friend disowns — he insults me. I am indeed accurst.’
Somerset stood for an instant staggered by this sudden change of front. The next moment, with a despairing gesture, he fled from the room and from the house. The first dash of his escape carried him hard upon half-way to the next police-office: but presently began to droop104; and before he reached the house of lawful105 intervention106, he fell once more among doubtful counsels. Was he an agnostic? had he a right to act? Away with such nonsense, and let Zero perish! ran his thoughts. And then again: had he not promised, had he not shaken hands and broken bread? and that with open eyes? and if so how could he take action, and not forfeit107 honour? But honour? what was honour? A figment, which, in the hot pursuit of crime, he ought to dash aside. Ay, but crime? A figment, too, which his enfranchised108 intellect discarded. All day, he wandered in the parks, a prey109 to whirling thoughts; all night, patrolled the city; and at the peep of day he sat down by the wayside in the neighbourhood of Peckham and bitterly wept. His gods had fallen. He who had chosen the broad, daylit, unencumbered paths of universal scepticism, found himself still the bondslave of honour. He who had accepted life from a point of view as lofty as the predatory eagle’s, though with no design to prey; he who had clearly recognised the common moral basis of war, of commercial competition, and of crime; he who was prepared to help the escaping murderer or to embrace the impenitent110 thief, found, to the overthrow111 of all his logic112, that he objected to the use of dynamite35. The dawn crept among the sleeping villas113 and over the smokeless fields of city; and still the unfortunate sceptic sobbed over his fall from consistency114.
At length, he rose and took the rising sun to witness. ‘There is no question as to fact,’ he cried; ‘right and wrong are but figments and the shadow of a word; but for all that, there are certain things that I cannot do, and there are certain others that I will not stand.’ Thereupon he decided115 to return to make one last effort of persuasion116, and, if he could not prevail on Zero to desist from his infernal trade, throw delicacy117 to the winds, give the plotter an hour’s start, and denounce him to the police. Fast as he went, being winged by this resolution, it was already well on in the morning when he came in sight of the Superfluous Mansion. Tripping down the steps, was the young lady of the various aliases118; and he was surprised to see upon her countenance the marks of anger and concern.
‘Madam,’ he began, yielding to impulse and with no clear knowledge of what he was to add.
But at the sound of his voice she seemed to experience a shock of fear or horror; started back; lowered her veil with a sudden movement; and fled, without turning, from the square.
Here then, we step aside a moment from following the fortunes of Somerset, and proceed to relate the strange and romantic episode of THE BROWN BOX.
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applied
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hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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proffer
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| v.献出，赠送；n.提议，建议 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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temperate
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| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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semblance
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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lodger
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aplomb
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| n.沉着，镇静 | |
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wholesale
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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rupture
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| n.破裂；(关系的)决裂；v.(使)破裂 | |
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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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conspiracy
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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enact
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| vt.制定(法律)；上演，扮演 | |
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recoil
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extremity
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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conspirator
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| n.阴谋者，谋叛者 | |
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divested
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| v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
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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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disposition
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amenable
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sophistry
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exult
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| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
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outgrew
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去式 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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verged
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| 接近，逼近（verge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dynamiter
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| n.炸药使用者（尤指革命者） | |
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dynamite
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sterling
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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dishonoured
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| a.不光彩的，不名誉的 | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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locomotion
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| n.运动，移动 | |
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goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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conversed
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guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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bosoms
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| 胸部( bosom的名词复数 )； 胸怀； 女衣胸部（或胸襟）； 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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fatigue
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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dismally
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sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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stammered
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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monologue
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| n.长篇大论，（戏剧等中的）独白 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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enthusiast
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| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
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intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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prattler
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| n.空谈者 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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slates
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| （旧时学生用以写字的）石板( slate的名词复数 )； 板岩； 石板瓦； 石板色 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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72
spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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detonation
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| n.爆炸；巨响 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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unctuously
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| adv.油腻地，油腔滑调地；假惺惺 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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derided
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| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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monarchy
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| n.君主，最高统治者；君主政体，君主国 | |
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precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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beseech
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| v.祈求，恳求 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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toils
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| 网 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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imbroglio
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| n.纷乱，纠葛，纷扰，一团糟 | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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reptile
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| n.爬行动物；两栖动物 | |
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infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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103
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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107
forfeit
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| vt.丧失；n.罚金，罚款，没收物 | |
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108
enfranchised
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| v.给予选举权( enfranchise的过去式和过去分词 )；（从奴隶制中）解放 | |
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109
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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impenitent
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| adj.不悔悟的，顽固的 | |
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111
overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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112
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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113
villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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114
consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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115
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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116
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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117
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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118
aliases
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| n.别名，化名( alias的名词复数 ) | |
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