Somerset ran straight upstairs; the door of the drawing-room, contrary to all custom, was unlocked; and bursting in, the young man found Zero seated on a sofa in an attitude of singular dejection. Close beside him stood an untasted grog, the mark of strong preoccupation. The room besides was in confusion: boxes had been tumbled to and fro; the floor was strewn with keys and other implements1; and in the midst of this disorder2 lay a lady’s glove.
‘I have come,’ cried Somerset, ‘to make an end of this. Either you will instantly abandon all your schemes, or (cost what it may) I will denounce you to the police.’
‘Ah!’ replied Zero, slowly shaking his head. ‘You are too late, dear fellow! I am already at the end of all my hopes, and fallen to be a laughing-stock and mockery. My reading,’ he added, with a gentle despondency of manner, ‘has not been much among romances; yet I recall from one a phrase that depicts3 my present state with critical exactitude; and you behold4 me sitting here “like a burst drum.”’
‘What has befallen you?’ cried Somerset.
‘My last batch,’ returned the plotter wearily, ‘like all the others, is a hollow mockery and a fraud. In vain do I combine the elements; in vain adjust the springs; and I have now arrived at such a pitch of disconsideration that (except yourself, dear fellow) I do not know a soul that I can face. My subordinates themselves have turned upon me. What language have I heard to-day, what illiberality5 of sentiment, what pungency6 of expression! She came once; I could have pardoned that, for she was moved; but she returned, returned to announce to me this crushing blow; and, Somerset, she was very inhumane. Yes, dear fellow, I have drunk a bitter cup; the speech of females is remarkable7 for . . . well, well! Denounce me, if you will; you but denounce the dead. I am extinct. It is strange how, at this supreme8 crisis of my life, I should be haunted by quotations9 from works of an inexact and even fanciful description; but here,’ he added, ‘is another: “Othello’s occupation’s gone.” Yes, dear Somerset, it is gone; I am no more a dynamiter11; and how, I ask you, after having tasted of these joys, am I to condescend13 to a less glorious life?’
‘I cannot describe how you relieve me,’ returned Somerset, sitting down on one of several boxes that had been drawn15 out into the middle of the floor. ‘I had conceived a sort of maudlin16 toleration for your character; I have a great distaste, besides, for anything in the nature of a duty; and upon both grounds, your news delights me. But I seem to perceive,’ he added, ‘a certain sound of ticking in this box.’
‘Yes,’ replied Zero, with the same slow weariness of manner, ‘I have set several of them going.’
‘My God!’ cried Somerset, bounding to his feet.
‘Machines?’
‘Machines!’ returned the plotter bitterly. ‘Machines indeed! I blush to be their author. Alas17!’ he said, burying his face in his hands, ‘that I should live to say it!’
‘Madman!’ cried Somerset, shaking him by the arm. ‘What am I to understand? Have you, indeed, set these diabolical18 contrivances in motion? and do we stay here to be blown up?’
‘“Hoist with his own petard?”’ returned the plotter musingly19. ‘One more quotation10: strange! But indeed my brain is struck with numbness20. Yes, dear boy, I have, as you say, put my contrivance in motion. The one on which you are sitting, I have timed for half an hour. Yon other —’
‘Half an hour!—’ echoed Somerset, dancing with trepidation21. ‘Merciful Heavens, in half an hour?’
‘Dear fellow, why so much excitement?’ inquired Zero. ‘My dynamite12 is not more dangerous than toffy; had I an only child, I would give it him to play with. You see this brick?’ he continued, lifting a cake of the infernal compound from the laboratory-table. ‘At a touch it should explode, and that with such unconquerable energy as should bestrew the square with ruins. Well now, behold! I dash it on the floor.’
Somerset sprang forward, and with the strength of the very ecstasy22 of terror, wrested23 the brick from his possession. ‘Heavens!’ he cried, wiping his brow; and then with more care than ever mother handled her first-born withal, gingerly transported the explosive to the far end of the apartment: the plotter, his arms once more fallen to his side, dispiritedly watching him.
‘It was entirely24 harmless,’ he sighed. ‘They describe it as burning like tobacco.’
‘In the name of fortune,’ cried Somerset, ‘what have I done to you, or what have you done to yourself, that you should persist in this insane behaviour? If not for your own sake, then for mine, let us depart from this doomed25 house, where I profess26 I have not the heart to leave you; and then, if you will take my advice, and if your determination be sincere, you will instantly quit this city, where no further occupation can detain you.’
‘Such, dear fellow, was my own design,’ replied the plotter. ‘I have, as you observe, no further business here; and once I have packed a little bag, I shall ask you to share a frugal27 meal, to go with me as far as to the station, and see the last of a broken-hearted man. And yet,’ he added, looking on the boxes with a lingering regret, ‘I should have liked to make quite certain. I cannot but suspect my underlings of some mismanagement; it may be fond, but yet I cherish that idea: it may be the weakness of a man of science, but yet,’ he cried, rising into some energy, ‘I will never, I cannot if I try, believe that my poor dynamite has had fair usage!’
‘Five minutes!’ said Somerset, glancing with horror at the timepiece. ‘If you do not instantly buckle28 to your bag, I leave you.’
‘A few necessaries,’ returned Zero, ‘only a few necessaries, dear Somerset, and you behold me ready.’
He passed into the bedroom, and after an interval30 which seemed to draw out into eternity31 for his unfortunate companion, he returned, bearing in his hand an open Gladstone bag. His movements were still horribly deliberate, and his eyes lingered gloatingly on his dear boxes, as he moved to and fro about the drawing-room, gathering32 a few small trifles. Last of all, he lifted one of the squares of dynamite.
‘Put that down!’ cried Somerset. ‘If what you say be true, you have no call to load yourself with that ungodly contraband33.’
‘Merely a curiosity, dear boy,’ he said persuasively34, and slipped the brick into his bag; ‘merely a memento35 of the past — ah, happy past, bright past! You will not take a touch of spirits? no? I find you very abstemious36. Well,’ he added, ‘if you have really no curiosity to await the event —’
‘I!’ cried Somerset. ‘My blood boils to get away.’
‘Well, then,’ said Zero, ‘I am ready; I would I could say, willing; but thus to leave the scene of my sublime37 endeavours —’
Without further parley38, Somerset seized him by the arm, and dragged him downstairs; the hall-door shut with a clang on the deserted39 mansion40; and still towing his laggardly41 companion, the young man sped across the square in the Oxford42 Street direction. They had not yet passed the corner of the garden, when they were arrested by a dull thud of an extraordinary amplitude43 of sound, accompanied and followed by a shattering fracas44. Somerset turned in time to see the mansion rend45 in twain, vomit46 forth47 flames and smoke, and instantly collapse48 into its cellars. At the same moment, he was thrown violently to the ground. His first glance was towards Zero. The plotter had but reeled against the garden rail; he stood there, the Gladstone bag clasped tight upon his heart, his whole face radiant with relief and gratitude49; and the young man heard him murmur50 to himself: ‘Nunc dimittis, nunc dimittis!’
The consternation51 of the populace was indescribable; the whole of Golden Square was alive with men, women, and children, running wildly to and fro, and like rabbits in a warren, dashing in and out of the house doors. And under favour of this confusion, Somerset dragged away the lingering plotter.
‘It was grand,’ he continued to murmur: ‘it was indescribably grand. Ah, green Erin, green Erin, what a day of glory! and oh, my calumniated52 dynamite, how triumphantly53 hast thou prevailed!’
Suddenly a shade crossed his face; and pausing in the middle of the footway, he consulted the dial of his watch.
‘Good God!’ he cried, ‘how mortifying54! seven minutes too early! The dynamite surpassed my hopes; but the clockwork, fickle55 clockwork, has once more betrayed me. Alas, can there be no success unmixed with failure? and must even this red-letter day be chequered by a shadow?’
‘Incomparable ass29!’ said Somerset, ‘what have you done? Blown up the house of an unoffending old lady, and the whole earthly property of the only person who is fool enough to befriend you!’
‘You do not understand these matters,’ replied Zero, with an air of great dignity. ‘This will shake England to the heart. Gladstone, the truculent56 old man, will quail57 before the pointing finger of revenge. And now that my dynamite is proved effective —’
‘Heavens, you remind me!’ ejaculated Somerset. ‘That brick in your bag must be instantly disposed of. But how? If we could throw it in the river —’
‘A torpedo58,’ cried Zero, brightening, ‘a torpedo in the Thames! Superb, dear fellow! I recognise in you the marks of an accomplished59 anarch.’
‘True!’ returned Somerset. ‘It cannot so be done; and there is no help but you must carry it away with you. Come on, then, and let me at once consign60 you to a train.’
‘Nay61, nay, dear boy,’ protested Zero. ‘There is now no call for me to leave. My character is now reinstated; my fame brightens; this is the best thing I have done yet; and I see from here the ovations62 that await the author of the Golden Square Atrocity63.’
‘My young friend,’ returned the other, ‘I give you your choice. I will either see you safe on board a train or safe in gaol64.’
‘Somerset, this is unlike you!’ said the chymist. ‘You surprise me, Somerset.’
‘I shall considerably65 more surprise you at the next police office,’ returned Somerset, with something bordering on rage. ‘For on one point my mind is settled: either I see you packed off to America, brick and all, or else you dine in prison.’
‘You have perhaps neglected one point,’ returned the unoffended Zero: ‘for, speaking as a philosopher, I fail to see what means you can employ to force me. The will, my dear fellow —’
‘Now, see here,’ interrupted Somerset. ‘You are ignorant of anything but science, which I can never regard as being truly knowledge; I, sir, have studied life; and allow me to inform you that I have but to raise my hand and voice — here in this street — and the mob —’
‘Good God in heaven, Somerset,’ cried Zero, turning deadly white and stopping in his walk, ‘great God in heaven, what words are these? Oh, not in jest, not even in jest, should they be used! The brutal66 mob, the savage67 passions . . . . Somerset, for God’s sake, a public-house!’
Somerset considered him with freshly awakened68 curiosity. ‘This is very interesting,’ said he. ‘You recoil69 from such a death?’
‘Who would not?’ asked the plotter.
‘And to be blown up by dynamite,’ inquired the young man, ‘doubtless strikes you as a form of euthanasia?’
‘Pardon me,’ returned Zero: ‘I own, and since I have braved it daily in my professional career, I own it even with pride: it is a death unusually distasteful to the mind of man.’
‘One more question,’ said Somerset: ‘you object to Lynch Law? why?’
‘It is assassination,’ said the plotter calmly, but with eyebrows70 a little lifted, as in wonder at the question.
‘Shake hands with me,’ cried Somerset. ‘Thank God, I have now no ill-feeling left; and though you cannot conceive how I burn to see you on the gallows71, I can quite contentedly72 assist at your departure.’
‘I do not very clearly take your meaning,’ said Zero, ‘but I am sure you mean kindly73. As to my departure, there is another point to be considered. I have neglected to supply myself with funds; my little all has perished in what history will love to relate under the name of the Golden Square Atrocity; and without what is coarsely if vigorously called stamps, you must be well aware it is impossible for me to pass the ocean.’
‘For me,’ said Somerset, ‘you have now ceased to be a man. You have no more claim upon me than a door scraper; but the touching74 confusion of your mind disarms75 me from extremities76. Until to-day, I always thought stupidity was funny; I now know otherwise; and when I look upon your idiot face, laughter rises within me like a deadly sickness, and the tears spring up into my eyes as bitter as blood. What should this portend77? I begin to doubt; I am losing faith in scepticism. Is it possible,’ he cried, in a kind of horror of himself —‘is it conceivable that I believe in right and wrong? Already I have found myself, with incredulous surprise, to be the victim of a prejudice of personal honour. And must this change proceed? Have you robbed me of my youth? Must I fall, at my time of life, into the Common Banker? But why should I address that head of wood? Let this suffice. I dare not let you stay among women and children; I lack the courage to denounce you, if by any means I may avoid it; you have no money: well then, take mine, and go; and if ever I behold your face after to-day, that day will be your last.’
‘Under the circumstances,’ replied Zero, ‘I scarce see my way to refuse your offer. Your expressions may pain, they cannot surprise me; I am aware our point of view requires a little training, a little moral hygiene78, if I may so express it; and one of the points that has always charmed me in your character is this delightful79 frankness. As for the small advance, it shall be remitted80 you from Philadelphia.’
‘It shall not,’ said Somerset.
‘Dear fellow, you do not understand,’ returned the plotter. ‘I shall now be received with fresh confidence by my superiors; and my experiments will be no longer hampered81 by pitiful conditions of the purse.’
‘What I am now about, sir, is a crime,’ replied Somerset; ‘and were you to roll in wealth like Vanderbilt, I should scorn to be reimbursed82 of money I had so scandalously misapplied. Take it, and keep it. By George, sir, three days of you have transformed me to an ancient Roman.’
With these words, Somerset hailed a passing hansom; and the pair were driven rapidly to the railway terminus. There, an oath having been exacted, the money changed hands.
‘And now,’ said Somerset, ‘I have bought back my honour with every penny I possess. And I thank God, though there is nothing before me but starvation, I am free from all entanglement83 with Mr. Zero Pumpernickel Jones.’
‘To starve?’ cried Zero. ‘Dear fellow, I cannot endure the thought.’
‘Take your ticket!’ returned Somerset.
‘I think you display temper,’ said Zero.
‘Take your ticket,’ reiterated84 the young man.
‘Well,’ said the plotter, as he returned, ticket in hand, ‘your attitude is so strange and painful, that I scarce know if I should ask you to shake hands.’
‘As a man, no,’ replied Somerset; ‘but I have no objection to shake hands with you, as I might with a pump-well that ran poison or bell-fire.’
‘This is a very cold parting,’ sighed the dynamiter; and still followed by Somerset, he began to descend14 the platform. This was now bustling85 with passengers; the train for Liverpool was just about to start, another had but recently arrived; and the double tide made movement difficult. As the pair reached the neighbourhood of the bookstall, however, they came into an open space; and here the attention of the plotter was attracted by a Standard broadside bearing the words: ‘Second Edition: Explosion in Golden Square.’ His eye lighted; groping in his pocket for the necessary coin, he sprang forward — his bag knocked sharply on the corner of the stall — and instantly, with a formidable report, the dynamite exploded. When the smoke cleared away the stall was seen much shattered, and the stall keeper running forth in terror from the ruins; but of the Irish patriot86 or the Gladstone bag no adequate remains87 were to be found.
In the first scramble88 of the alarm, Somerset made good his escape, and came out upon the Euston Road, his head spinning, his body sick with hunger, and his pockets destitute89 of coin. Yet as he continued to walk the pavements, he wondered to find in his heart a sort of peaceful exultation90, a great content, a sense, as it were, of divine presence and the kindliness91 of fate; and he was able to tell himself that even if the worst befell, he could now starve with a certain comfort since Zero was expunged92.
Late in the afternoon, he found himself at the door of Mr. Godall’s shop; and being quite unmanned by his long fast, and scarce considering what he did, he opened the glass door and entered.
‘Ha!’ said Mr. Godall, ‘Mr. Somerset! Well, have you met with an adventure? Have you the promised story? Sit down, if you please; suffer me to choose you a cigar of my own special brand; and reward me with a narrative93 in your best style.’
‘I must not take a cigar,’ said Somerset.
‘Indeed!’ said Mr. Godall. ‘But now I come to look at you more closely, I perceive that you are changed. My poor boy, I hope there is nothing wrong?’
Somerset burst into tears.
收听单词发音 |
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implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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depicts
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| 描绘，描画( depict的第三人称单数 )； 描述 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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illiberality
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| n.吝啬，小气 | |
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pungency
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| n.（气味等的）刺激性；辣；（言语等的）辛辣；尖刻 | |
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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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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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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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| n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
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condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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wrested
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| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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profess
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| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
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frugal
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| adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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contraband
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| n.违禁品，走私品 | |
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persuasively
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| adv.口才好地；令人信服地 | |
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memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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abstemious
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| adj.有节制的，节俭的 | |
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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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parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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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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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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laggardly
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| adj.缓慢的，落后的adv.行动缓慢地 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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amplitude
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| n.广大；充足；振幅 | |
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fracas
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| n.打架；吵闹 | |
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rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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vomit
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| v.呕吐，作呕；n.呕吐物，吐出物 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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calumniated
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| v.诽谤，中伤( calumniate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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mortifying
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| adj.抑制的，苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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55
fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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torpedo
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| n.水雷，地雷；v.用鱼雷破坏 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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consign
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| vt.寄售（货品），托运，交托，委托 | |
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61
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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ovations
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| n.热烈欢迎( ovation的名词复数 ) | |
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atrocity
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| n.残暴，暴行 | |
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64
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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70
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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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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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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75
disarms
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| v.裁军( disarm的第三人称单数 )；使息怒 | |
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extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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portend
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| v.预兆，预示；给…以警告 | |
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hygiene
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| n.健康法，卫生学 （a.hygienic） | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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80
remitted
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| v.免除（债务），宽恕( remit的过去式和过去分词 )；使某事缓和；寄回，传送 | |
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hampered
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reimbursed
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| v.偿还，付还( reimburse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entanglement
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| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
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reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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expunged
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| v.擦掉( expunge的过去式和过去分词 )；除去；删去；消除 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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