They sat down to an island dinner, remarkable1 for its variety and excellence2; turtle soup and steak, fish, fowls3, a sucking pig, a cocoanut salad, and sprouting4 cocoanut roasted for dessert. Not a tin had been opened; and save for the oil and vinegar in the salad, and some green spears of onion which Attwater cultivated and plucked with his own hand, not even the condiments5 were European. Sherry, hock, and claret succeeded each other, and the Farallone champagne6 brought up the rear with the dessert.
It was plain that, like so many of the extremely religious in the days before teetotalism, Attwater had a dash of the epicure7. For such characters it is softening8 to eat well; doubly so to have designed and had prepared an excellent meal for others; and the manners of their host were agreeably mollified in consequence.
A cat of huge growth sat on his shoulders purring, and occasionally, with a deft9 paw, capturing a morsel10 in the air. To a cat he might be likened himself, as he lolled at the head of his table, dealing11 out attentions and innuendoes12, and using the velvet13 and the claw indifferently. And both Huish and the captain fell progressively under the charm of his hospitable14 freedom.
Over the third guest, the incidents of the dinner may be said to have passed for long unheeded. Herrick accepted all that was offered him, ate and drank without tasting, and heard without comprehension. His mind was singly occupied in contemplating15 the horror of the circumstances in which he sat. What Attwater knew, what the captain designed, from which side treachery was to be first expected, these were the ground of his thoughts. There were times when he longed to throw down the table and flee into the night. And even that was debarred him; to do anything, to say anything, to move at all, were only to precipitate16 the barbarous tragedy; and he sat spellbound, eating with white lips. Two of his companions observed him narrowly, Attwater with raking, sidelong glances that did not interrupt his talk, the captain with a heavy and anxious consideration.
‘Well, I must say this sherry is a really prime article,’ said Huish. “Ow much does it stand you in, if it’s a fair question?’
‘A hundred and twelve shillings in London, and the freight to Valparaiso, and on again,’ said Attwater. ‘It strikes one as really not a bad fluid.’
‘A ‘undred and twelve!’ murmured the clerk, relishing17 the wine and the figures in a common ecstasy18: ‘O my!’
‘So glad you like it,’ said Attwater. ‘Help yourself, Mr Whish, and keep the bottle by you.’
‘My friend’s name is Huish and not Whish, sit,’ said the captain with a flush.
‘I beg your pardon, I am sure. Huish and not Whish, certainly,’ said Attwater. ‘I was about to say that I have still eight dozen,’ he added, fixing the captain with his eye.
‘Eight dozen what?’ said Davis.
‘Sherry,’ was the reply. ‘Eight dozen excellent sherry. Why, it seems almost worth it in itself; to a man fond of wine.’
The ambiguous words struck home to guilty consciences, and Huish and the captain sat up in their places and regarded him with a scare.
‘Worth what?’ said Davis.
‘A hundred and twelve shillings,’ replied Attwater.
The captain breathed hard for a moment. He reached out far and wide to find any coherency in these remarks; then, with a great effort, changed the subject.
‘I allow we are about the first white men upon this island, sir,’ said he.
Attwater followed him at once, and with entire gravity, to the new ground. ‘Myself and Dr Symonds excepted, I should say the only ones,’ he returned. ‘And yet who can tell? In the course of the ages someone may have lived here, and we sometimes think that someone must. The cocoa palms grow all round the island, which is scarce like nature’s planting. We found besides, when we landed, an unmistakable cairn upon the beach; use unknown; but probably erected20 in the hope of gratifying some mumbo jumbo whose very name is forgotten, by some thick-witted gentry21 whose very bones are lost. Then the island (witness the Directory) has been twice reported; and since my tenancy, we have had two wrecks22, both derelict. The rest is conjecture23.’
‘Dr Symonds is your partner, I guess?’ said Davis.
‘A dear fellow, Symonds! How he would regret it, if he knew you had been here!’ said Attwater.
“E’s on the Trinity ‘All, ain’t he?’ asked Huish.
‘And if you could tell me where the Trinity ‘All was, you would confer a favour, Mr Whish!’ was the reply.
‘I suppose she has a native crew?’ said Davis.
‘Since the secret has been kept ten years, one would suppose she had,’ replied Attwater.
‘Well, now, see ‘ere!’ said Huish. ‘You have everything about you in no end style, and no mistake, but I tell you it wouldn’t do for me. Too much of “the old rustic24 bridge by the mill”; too retired25, by ‘alf. Give me the sound of Bow Bells!’
‘You must not think it was always so,’ replied Attwater, ‘This was once a busy shore, although now, hark! you can hear the solitude26. I find it stimulating27. And talking of the sound of bells, kindly28 follow a little experiment of mine in silence.’ There was a silver bell at his right hand to call the servants; he made them a sign to stand still, struck the bell with force, and leaned eagerly forward. The note rose clear and strong; it rang out clear and far into the night and over the deserted29 island; it died into the distance until there only lingered in the porches of the ear a vibration30 that was sound no longer. ‘Empty houses, empty sea, solitary31 beaches!’ said Attwater. ‘And yet God hears the bell! And yet we sit in this verandah on a lighted stage with all heaven for spectators! And you call that solitude?’
There followed a bar of silence, during which the captain sat mesmerised.
Then Attwater laughed softly. ‘These are the diversions of a lonely, man,’ he resumed, ‘and possibly not in good taste. One tells oneself these little fairy tales for company. If there SHOULD happen to be anything in folk-lore, Mr Hay? But here comes the claret. One does not offer you Lafitte, captain, because I believe it is all sold to the railroad dining cars in your great country; but this Brine-Mouton is of a good year, and Mr Whish will give me news of it.’
‘That’s a queer idea of yours!’ cried the captain, bursting with a sigh from the spell that had bound him. ‘So you mean to tell me now, that you sit here evenings and ring up . . . well, ring on the angels . . . by yourself?’
‘As a matter of historic fact, and since you put it directly, one does not,’ said Attwater. ‘Why ring a bell, when there flows out from oneself and everything about one a far more momentous32 silence? the least beat of my heart and the least thought in my mind echoing into eternity33 for ever and for ever and for ever.’
‘O look ‘ere,’ said Huish, ‘turn down the lights at once, and the Band of ‘Ope will oblige! This ain’t a spiritual seance.’
‘No folk-lore about Mr Whish — I beg your pardon, captain: Huish not Whish, of course,’ said Attwater.
As the boy was filling Huish’s glass, the bottle escaped from his hand and was shattered, and the wine spilt on the verandah floor. Instant grimness as of death appeared on the face of Attwater; he smote35 the bell imperiously, and the two brown natives fell into the attitude of attention and stood mute and trembling. There was just a moment of silence and hard looks; then followed a few savage36 words in the native; and, upon a gesture of dismissal, the service proceeded as before.
None of the party had as yet observed upon the excellent bearing of the two men. They were dark, undersized, and well set up; stepped softly, waited deftly37, brought on the wines and dishes at a look, and their eyes attended studiously on their master.
‘Where do you get your labour from anyway?’ asked Davis.
‘Ah, where not?’ answered Attwater.
‘Not much of a soft job, I suppose?’ said the captain.
‘If you will tell me where getting labour is!’ said Attwater with a shrug38. ‘And of course, in our case, as we could name no destination, we had to go far and wide and do the best we could. We have gone as far west as the Kingsmills and as far south as Rapa-iti. Pity Symonds isn’t here! He is full of yarns39. That was his part, to collect them. Then began mine, which was the educational.’
‘You mean to run them?’ said Davis.
‘Ay! to run them,’ said Attwater.
‘Wait a bit,’ said Davis, ‘I’m out of my depth. How was this? Do you mean to say you did it single-handed?’
‘One did it single-handed,’ said Attwater, ‘because there was nobody to help one.’
‘By God, but you must be a holy terror!’ cried the captain, in a glow of admiration40.
‘One does one’s best,’ said Attwater.
‘Well, now!’ said Davis, ‘I have seen a lot of driving in my time and been counted a good driver myself; I fought my way, third mate, round the Cape34 Horn with a push of packet rats that would have turned the devil out of hell and shut the door on him; and I tell you, this racket of Mr Attwater’s takes the cake. In a ship, why, there ain’t nothing to it! You’ve got the law with you, that’s what does it. But put me down on this blame’ beach alone, with nothing but a whip and a mouthful of bad words, and ask me to . . . no, SIR! it’s not good enough! I haven’t got the sand for that!’ cried Davis. ‘It’s the law behind,’ he added; ‘it’s the law does it, every time!’
‘The beak41 ain’t as black as he’s sometimes pynted,’ observed Huish, humorously.
‘Well, one got the law after a fashion,’ said Attwater. ‘One had to be a number of things. It was sometimes rather a bore.’
‘I should smile!’ said Davis. ‘Rather lively, I should think!’
‘I dare say we mean the same thing,’ said Attwater. ‘However, one way or another, one got it knocked into their heads that they MUST work, and they DID . . . until the Lord took them!’
‘‘Ope you made ‘em jump,’ said Huish.
‘When it was necessary, Mr Whish, I made them jump,’ said Attwater.
‘You bet you did,’ cried the captain. He was a good deal flushed, but not so much with wine as admiration; and his eyes drank in the huge proportions of the other with delight. ‘You bet you did, and you bet that I can see you doing it! By God, you’re a man, and you can say I said so.’
‘Too good of you, I’m sure,’ said Attwater.
‘Did you — did you ever have crime here?’ asked Herrick, breaking his silence with a pungent42 voice.
‘Yes,’ said Attwater, ‘we did.’
‘And how did you handle that, sir?’ cried the eager captain.
‘Well, you see, it was a queer case,’ replied Attwater. ‘it was a case that would have puzzled Solomon. Shall I tell it you? yes?’
The captain rapturously accepted.
‘Well,’ drawled Attwater, ‘here is what it was. I dare say you know two types of natives, which may be called the obsequious43 and the sullen44? Well, one had them, the types themselves, detected in the fact; and one had them together. Obsequiousness45 ran out of the first like wine out of a bottle, sullenness46 congested in the second. Obsequiousness was all smiles; he ran to catch your eye, he loved to gabble; and he had about a dozen words of beach English, and an eighth-of-an-inch veneer47 of Christianity. Sullens was industrious48; a big down-looking bee. When he was spoken to, he answered with a black look and a shrug of one shoulder, but the thing would be done. I don’t give him to you for a model of manners; there was nothing showy about Sullens; but he was strong and steady, and ungraciously obedient. Now Sullens got into trouble; no matter how; the regulations of the place were broken, and he was punished accordingly — without effect. So, the next day, and the next, and the day after, till I began to be weary of the business, and Sullens (I am afraid) particularly so. There came a day when he was in fault again, for the — oh, perhaps the thirtieth time; and he rolled a dull eye upon me, with a spark in it, and appeared to speak. Now the regulations of the place are formal upon one point: we allow no explanations; none are received, none allowed to be offered. So one stopped him instantly; but made a note of the circumstance. The next day, he was gone from the settlement. There could be nothing more annoying; if the labour took to running away, the fishery was wrecked49. There are sixty miles of this island, you see, all in length like the Queen’s Highway; the idea of pursuit in such a place was a piece of single-minded childishness, which one did not entertain. Two days later, I made a discovery; it came in upon me with a flash that Sullens had been unjustly punished from beginning to end, and the real culprit throughout had been Obsequiousness. The native who talks, like the woman who hesitates, is lost. You set him talking and lying; and he talks, and lies, and watches your face to see if he has pleased you; till at last, out comes the truth! It came out of Obsequiousness in the regular course. I said nothing to him; I dismissed him; and late as it was, for it was already night, set off to look for Sullens. I had not far to go: about two hundred yards up the island, the moon showed him to me. He was hanging in a cocoa palm — I’m not botanist50 enough to tell you how — but it’s the way, in nine cases out of ten, these natives commit suicide. His tongue was out, poor devil, and the birds had got at him; I spare you details, he was an ugly sight! I gave the business six good hours of thinking in this verandah. My justice had been made a fool of; I don’t suppose that I was ever angrier. Next day, I had the conch sounded and all hands out before sunrise. One took one’s gun, and led the way, with Obsequiousness. He was very talkative; the beggar supposed that all was right now he had confessed; in the old schoolboy phrase, he was plainly ‘sucking up’ to me; full of protestations of goodwill51 and good behaviour; to which one answered one really can’t remember what. Presently the tree came in sight, and the hanged man. They all burst out lamenting52 for their comrade in the island way, and Obsequiousness was the loudest of the mourners. He was quite genuine; a noxious53 creature, without any consciousness of guilt19. Well, presently — to make a long story short — one told him to go up the tree. He stared a bit, looked at one with a trouble in his eye, and had rather a sickly smile; but went. He was obedient to the last; he had all the pretty virtues54, but the truth was not in him. So soon as he was up, he looked down, and there was the rifle covering him; and at that he gave a whimper like a dog. You could bear a pin drop; no more keening now. There they all crouched55 upon the ground, with bulging56 eyes; there was he in the tree top, the colour of the lead; and between was the dead man, dancing a bit in the air. He was obedient to the last, recited his crime, recommended his soul to God. And then. . .’
Attwater paused, and Herrick, who had been listening attentively57, made a convulsive movement which upset his glass.
‘And then?’ said the breathless captain.
‘Shot,’ said Attwater. ‘They came to ground together.’
Herrick sprang to his feet with a shriek58 and an insensate gesture.
‘It was a murder,’ he screamed. ‘A cold-hearted, bloody-minded murder! You monstrous59 being! Murderer and hypocrite — murderer and hypocrite — murderer and hypocrite —’ he repeated, and his tongue stumbled among the words.
The captain was by him in a moment. ‘Herrick!’ he cried, ‘behave yourself! Here, don’t be a blame’ fool!’
Herrick struggled in his embrace like a frantic60 child, and suddenly bowing his face in his hands, choked into a sob61, the first of many, which now convulsed his body silently, and now jerked from him indescribable and meaningless sounds.
‘Your friend appears over-excited,’ remarked Attwater, sitting unmoved but all alert at table.
‘It must be the wine,’ replied the captain. ‘He ain’t no drinking man, you see. I— I think I’ll take him away. A walk’ll sober him up, I guess.’
He led him without resistance out of the verandah and into the night, in which they soon melted; but still for some time, as they drew away, his comfortable voice was to be heard soothing62 and remonstrating63, and Herrick answering, at intervals64, with the mechanical noises of hysteria.
“E’s like a bloomin’ poultry65 yard!’ observed Huish, helping66 himself to wine (of which he spilled a good deal) with gentlemanly ease. ‘A man should learn to beyave at table,’ he added.
‘Rather bad form, is it not?’ said Attwater. ‘Well, well, we are left tete-a-tete. A glass of wine with you, Mr Whish!’
收听单词发音 |
1
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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sprouting
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| v.发芽( sprout的现在分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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condiments
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| n.调味品 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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epicure
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| n.行家，美食家 | |
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softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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innuendoes
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| n.影射的话( innuendo的名词复数 )；讽刺的话；含沙射影；暗讽 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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relishing
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| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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wrecks
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| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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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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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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obsequiousness
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| 媚骨 | |
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sullenness
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| n. 愠怒, 沉闷, 情绪消沉 | |
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veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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botanist
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| n.植物学家 | |
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goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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noxious
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| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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61
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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62
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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63
remonstrating
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的现在分词 )；告诫 | |
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64
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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65
poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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66
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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