Gorman was one of those peculiar1 characters who, in personal appearance, are totally devoid2 of peculiarity3. He was a middle-sized, thick-set, commonplace, grave, quiet man; very powerful—but not apparently4 so; one whom it was impossible to “find out” unless he chose to let himself be found out. Above all, he was a reserved man.
Everybody knew well enough, at least among his intimates, that he was named Gorman; but not one of the number knew what his Christian5 name was. A few were aware that he signed himself “D. Gorman”; but whether the “D” represented David, dastard6, drunkard, or demon7, was a matter of pure speculation8 to all, a few of his female acquaintance excepted (for he had no friends), who asserted roundly that it represented them all, and some were even willing to go the length of saying that it represented more, and stood for dirty, drivelling, desperate, and a few other choice words which it is quite unnecessary to mention. Only a few, and these were among the knowing and peculiarly observant ones of Gorman’s intimates, said that “D” stood for “deep.” But then, many of those who thus pronounced their opinion, were comparatively worthless characters, given to scandal and slander9; so the reader must not allow himself to be biassed10 too much by their report.
Certain it is, however, that when Gorman was asked on one occasion what his Christian name was, he replied that he had no Christian name; because he didn’t believe in Christianity, and that he signed himself “D,” to be distinguished11 from the other Gormans who might chance to exist in the universe.
People were not at all shocked at his bold statement of unbelief; because, in the circle in which he moved, the same disbelief was pretty general.
Besides many other traits and qualities, definable and indefinable, Gorman had the power of assuming the appearance either of a burglar of the lowest type, or a well-to-do contractor12 or tradesman. A slight change in dress and manner were sufficient to metamorphose him beyond recognition.
Everybody knew, also, that Gorman was the landlord of a small public-house at the corner of a dirty street, not far from London Bridge; and that he kept a stout13, middle-aged14 man on the premises15 to do the duty of host, while he himself went about “other business,” which nobody knew of, and which no one could find out, although many had tried to do so with all their might.
Every day in the year, Gorman might have been seen at the “Golden Swan”; but never for longer than a few minutes at a time, when he inspected the books, received the cash drawn16 the day before; and made an impression on all in the premises, that tended to convince them they were well looked after.
“Humph!” ejaculated Gorman, as he finished counting the dirty coppers17 and pieces of silver which his agent had delivered to him, and dropped them from his dirty fingers into a dirty leather bag: “Business is dull, I think.”
“It ain’t brisk just now, sir,” replied the deputy-landlord of the “Golden Swan.”
Gorman received this reply with another “Humph,” and then, putting the bag in his coat pocket, prepared to leave.
“No, sir; no one.”
“I’ll be back to-morrow about this time.”
The deputy knew that this was false, for his employer invariably came at a different hour each day, in order to take “the house” by surprise; but he said, “Very well, sir,” as usual.
“And mind,” continued Gorman, “that you put the lights out. You’re uncommon19 careful about that, I hope?”
It is worthy20 of remark, in reference to Gorman’s anxiety about putting out lights, that he had been burned out of several sets of premises in the course of a few years. He was quite a martyr21, as it were, to fire. Unaccountably worried, pursued, and damaged by it—no, not damaged, by the way; because Gorman was a prudent22 man, and always insured to the full amount. His enemies sometimes said above it; but neither they nor we have any means of proving or disproving that.
The deputy protested that he always exercised the utmost precaution in putting everything out every night—from the last beery lingerer, to the gas—and that he felt quite put out himself at being asked the question, as it implied a doubt of his care and attention to business. Hereupon Gorman said “Good-night,” and the deputy returned to the counter, where besotted men and drunken women awaited his attendance.
Three-quarters of an hour sufficed to convey Gorman from the east to the west end of London. Here he sought the well-known precincts of Poorthing Lane, and entered the shop of Mr David Boone.
“Anyone inside?” asked Gorman.
“No,” said Boone, “’cept the boy. I’ll call him to mind the shop, and then we can be alone.”
As Gorman did not vouchsafe24 a reply, but walked straight into the little room behind the shop, Boone called the boy, and bade him mind the shop, while he held private consultation25 with his friend.
The shop-boy enjoyed the name of Robert Roddy. He was a soft-faced, washed-out youth, with a disposition26 to wink27 both eyes in a meek28 manner. Rough-spoken people called him an idiot, but Roddy was not quite such an idiot as they took him for. He obeyed his master’s mandate30 by sitting down on a tall stool near the window, and occupied himself in attempting to carve a human face on the head of a walking-stick.
“Glad to see you, Mr Gorman,” said Boone, seating his tall body on a low stool at the side of his friend, who, with his hat on, had thrown himself into an armchair, and spread out both legs before the fire. “Very glad to see you, indeed, in my—little sanctum, my withdrawing room, if I may venture to use the name, to which I retire during the intervals31 of business.”
Boone said this with an air of pleasantry, and smiled, but his visitor did not encourage him.
Boone admitted, with a sigh, that they were, and observed that trade was extremely dull—astonishingly dull.
“Why, would you believe it, sir, I have not sold twenty shillings’ worth o’ goods all last week, and only one wax-doll within the month, although it’s gettin’ well on for Christmas-time? One would a’most fancy the childr’n was about to give up such vanities an’ devote themselves to serious business. It’s a serious business for the like of us, anyhow.”
Again Mr Boone smiled, and again failed to make an agreeable impression on his visitor, who demanded in a surly tone if he had been thinking over it, and made up his mind to do it.
Boone’s face changed at this indefinite question, and became a shade paler than it was by nature, as he replied, hesitatingly, that he had been thinking over it, and that he had made up his mind not to do it.
“Oh, you have, have you?” said Gorman in a tone of irony34. “Very good; then I’ll trouble you to pay me the three hundred pounds you owe me by this day next week, and the rent of this here tenement35 for last half.”
Boone’s face became still paler.
“You’re a hard landlord,” said he.
“You know what the punishment is by law,” continued Boone.
“Yes—death,” said the other drily; “but you know as well as I do that it’s never carried out nowadays.”
“Some men think it’s worse,” replied Gorman, with a savage38 grin; “but you’ve no need to fear. If you only take the right precautions it’s impossible to find it out, an’ I’ll engage to put ye up to doin’ it in such a way that there won’t be a scrap39 the size of a sixpence left to convict you. Only put a bold face on it and the thing’s done, and your fortune made as well as mine.”
The man’s voice and manner softened40 a little as he said this, for he thought he perceived symptoms of wavering in his tenant, who covered his face with his large thin hands and sighed deeply.
“Come, don’t be hard on me,” he said at length; “I really haven’t got courage to go through with this. Only give me a little more time, and I’ll—”
“Very good,” interrupted Gorman, with an oath, as he rose and dashed his pipe into fragments on the hearth41; “if you won’t burn yourself out o’ this scrape.”
“Hush42! hush, man!” said Boone in a hoarse43 whisper; “not so loud; my lad will hear you. Come, I’ll think of it.”
“Will you do it?” demanded the other fiercely. “You know the alternative if you don’t?”
“Ruination?”
“Exactly so; and that without delay.”
“Ruination either way,” murmured Boone sadly to himself, as though he were counting the cost.
“Tut, man,” said his landlord, becoming more gentle, “it’s nothing of the sort. If you only take my advice, it’ll be a jolly blaze, which, instead of ending in smoke will end in some thousands of pounds and commencing business again on fresh capital. Come, I’ve not got time to waste with you. There’s no escape for you, so you’d better say yes, else I’ll go and have a talk with a legal friend of mine who is used to screwing gold out of most unpromising mines.”
David Boone’s face had by this time become so pale that it could not become paler, so it turned somewhat green instead. His teeth, too, had a tendency to chatter44 when he spoke29, but by a strong mental effort he prevented this, and said in a subdued45 voice that he was willing to do whatever his landlord pleased to command.
“That’s all right,” said Gorman, resuming his seat in front of the fire; “now you speak like a man. Sit down and I’ll go over the matter with you, and make your mind easy by showing you that it ain’t either a difficult or risky46 piece of work. Bless you, it ain’t the first time I’ve been up to that sort o’ thing.”
It did not require the diabolical47 leer that accompanied this remark to convince his hearer of its truth.
“Now, then,” said Gorman, with a business air, “first of all, how stands the stock in the shop?”
“Rather low,” answered Boone, who had reseated himself on the stool; “in fact, I’ve got little or nothing more than what is visible. I’ve bin so hard-up of late that I’ve had to crowd everything into view an’ make the most of appearances. All the dressed dolls has got their frocks spread out, and the undressed ones their arms an’ legs throwed about to make ’em take up as much room as possible. The lids of all the work boxes is open, the slates48 and puzzle boxes stuck up in single rows, with their broadsides to the front, and the collapsin’ worlds is all inflated49. Everything in the front is real, but all behind is sham50 dummies51 an’ empty boxes.”
Gorman opened his eyes a little on hearing this.
“Good,” he said, after a pause; “you’re a cleverer fellow than I took you for. I thought you was well off, and I’m sure the neighbours think the same, for the place looks pretty full an’ thrivin’. I suppose, now, if it was all sold off you wouldn’t have enough to pay up my loans?”
“Nothink like it,” said Boone earnestly. “I’ve slaved night and day, an’ done my best, but luck’s again’ me.”
“Ah, that’s ’cause you’ve bin faint-hearted in time past; you’re goin’ to be bold in time to come, my good fellow; you’ll have to be bold, you will. Come, I’ll explain how. But first, let me ask how much you think the stock is worth.”
“Not much above fifty pounds.”
“Hum! it looks like more.”
“That’s true, an’ the people about think it’s worth two or three hundred, for you see I have a lot o’ cheap jewellery, and some of the inquisitive52 ones have been trying to pump me of late. They all think I’m thriving,” said Boone, shaking his head sorrowfully.
“So you are, so you are, man,” said Gorman jocosely53, “and you’re going to make your fortune soon, and so am I, though at present I’m poor enough. However, that don’t matter. Here’s your course for the future, which you’re to steer54 by. You’ll go an’ begin chatting with your neighbours at odd times, and your conversation, curiously55 enough, will always be about the times bein’ better than usual, an’ about the approach of Christmas, an’ the stock you mean to lay in against that festive56 season. After that you’ll lay in the stock—fifty pounds’ worth; and it won’t be sham; it’ll be real—”
“But where is the money to come from?” asked Boone.
“Oh, don’t you trouble about the money; I’ll provide that. I’ve a curious power of raisin’ the wind on easy terms. Fifty pounds’ worth of real goods will be bought by you, my thriving shopman, and you’ll let some of the neighbours, partiklerly these same inquisitive ’uns, see the goods and some of the invoices57, and you’ll tell them that you’ve laid in 150 pounds worth of stock, and that you think of layin’ in more. On the strength of the press o’ business you’ll get another shop-lad, and you’ll keep ’em employed a good deal goin’ messages, so that they won’t get to know much about the state o’ things, and I’ll take care to send you a rare lot o’ customers, who’ll come pretty often for small purchases, and give the shop an uncommon thrivin’ look. Oh, we’ll make a splendid appearance of doin’ business, and we’ll have lots of witnesses ready to bother these sharp lawyers if need be—won’t we, Boone?”
Poor Boone, whose colour had not yet improved much, smiled in a ghastly way, but said nothing.
“Well, then,” resumed Gorman, after a few minutes’ meditation58, “when this thriving trade is in full swing we’ll get it insured. You know it would never do to risk the loss of such valuable stock by fire—eh, Boone? common prudence59 pints60 that out! You say what you have is worth fifty, and what you’ll lay in is fifty more, makin’ a hundred, so we’ll insure for five hundred; there’s a clear gain of four hundred per cent, only think of that! Well, the house I have already insured for five hundred, that makes nine hundred, and we’ll insure the furniture and fixings for fifty; that’ll look business-like, you know. Then the goods laid in will be carefully removed in the night at various times before the fire, so you had better see that they are small and portable objects; that’ll make another fifty pounds, if not more. So I see my way to a thousand pounds. That’s a neat sum, ain’t it, Boone?”
Still Boone made no reply, but favoured his visitor with another ghastly smile.
“Well, then,” pursued Gorman, “all you’ve got to do is, on a certain night that I will fix, to set the shop alight, and the thing’s done quite easy. But that’s not all. You’ve got an old mother, I believe; well, it would be very unnatural61 in you to run the risk of being burned to death, an’ leaving her penniless; so you’ll insure your life for five hundred pounds, and I’ll pay the first premium62 on it, and then you’ll die—”
“Die!” exclaimed Boone, with a start.
“Ay; why not, if you’re to get a small fortune by it.”
“But how’s that to be managed?” inquired Boone, with a look of doubt.
“Managed? Nothing easier. You’ll be so desperately63 upset by the fire—perhaps singed64 a little too—that you’ll be taken ill and won’t get better. I’ll look carefully after you as your loving friend, and when you’re about dead you’ll get up and clear off in a quiet way. I’ll make arrangements to have a corpse65 as like you as possible put in your bed, and then you’ll be buried comfortably, and we’ll share the insurance. Of course you’ll have to leave this part of the town and disguise yourself, but that won’t be difficult. Why, man, if you were only fond of a joke you might even attend your own funeral! It’s not the first time that sort of thing has bin done. So, then, you’ll have your life insured, but not yet. Your first business is to set about the purchase of the stock, and, let me tell you, there’s no time to lose, so I advise you to write out the orders this very night. I’ll fetch you fifty pounds in a day or two, and you’ll pay up at once. It’ll look well, you know, and after it’s all settled we’ll divide the plunder66. Now then, good-night. I congratulate you on your thriving business.”
Gorman opened the door of the inner room as he said the last words, so that the lad in the shop might hear them. As he passed through the shop he whispered in his friend’s ear, “Mind the consequences if you fail,” and then left him with another hearty67 good-night.
Poor David Boone, having sold himself to the tempter, went about his duties like an abject68 slave. He began by ordering goods from various wholesale69 dealers70 in the city, after which he took occasion to stand a good deal at his shop door and accost71 such of his neighbours as chanced to pass. The conversation at such times invariably began with the interesting topic of the weather, on which abstruse72 subject Boone and his friends displayed a surprising profundity73 of knowledge, by stating not only what the weather was at the time being, and what it had been in time past, but what it was likely to be in time to come. It soon diverged74, however, to business, and usually ended in a display of fresh goods and invoices, and in references, on the part of Boone, to the felicitous75 state of trade at the time.
Do what he would, however, this thriving tradesman could not act his part well. In the midst of his prosperity his smiles were ghastly and his laughter was sardonic76. Even when commenting on the prosperity of trade his sighs were frequent and deep. One of his friends thought and said that prosperity was turning the poor man’s brain. Others thought that he was becoming quite unnatural and unaccountable in his deportment; and a few, acting77 on the principle of the sailor’s parrot, which “could not speak much, but was a tremendous thinker,” gave no outward indication of their thoughts beyond wise looks and grave shakes of the head, by which most people understood them to signify that they feared there was a screw loose somewhere.
This latter sentiment, it will be observed, is a very common one among the unusually wise ones of the earth, and is conveniently safe, inasmuch as it is more or less true of every person, place, and thing in this sad world of loose screws.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
devoid
|
|
| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
peculiarity
|
|
| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
dastard
|
|
| n.卑怯之人，懦夫；adj.怯懦的，畏缩的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
demon
|
|
| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
speculation
|
|
| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
slander
|
|
| n./v.诽谤，污蔑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
biassed
|
|
| （统计试验中）结果偏倚的，有偏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
11
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
contractor
|
|
| n.订约人，承包人，收缩肌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
middle-aged
|
|
| adj.中年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
premises
|
|
| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
coppers
|
|
| 铜( copper的名词复数 )； 铜币 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
bin
|
|
| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
uncommon
|
|
| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
martyr
|
|
| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
vouchsafe
|
|
| v.惠予，准许 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
consultation
|
|
| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
wink
|
|
| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
meek
|
|
| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
mandate
|
|
| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
intervals
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
growled
|
|
| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
irony
|
|
| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
tenement
|
|
| n.公寓；房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
tenant
|
|
| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
penal
|
|
| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
chatter
|
|
| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
risky
|
|
| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
diabolical
|
|
| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
slates
|
|
| （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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
inflated
|
|
| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
sham
|
|
| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
dummies
|
|
| n.仿制品( dummy的名词复数 )；橡皮奶头；笨蛋；假传球 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
inquisitive
|
|
| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
jocosely
|
|
| adv.说玩笑地，诙谐地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
54
steer
|
|
| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
festive
|
|
| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
invoices
|
|
| 发票( invoice的名词复数 )； （发货或服务）费用清单； 清单上货物的装运； 货物的托运 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
meditation
|
|
| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
pints
|
|
| n.品脱( pint的名词复数 )；一品脱啤酒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
premium
|
|
| n.加付款；赠品；adj.高级的；售价高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
singed
|
|
| v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
plunder
|
|
| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
abject
|
|
| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
wholesale
|
|
| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
dealers
|
|
| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
accost
|
|
| v.向人搭话，打招呼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
abstruse
|
|
| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
profundity
|
|
| n.渊博；深奥，深刻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
diverged
|
|
| 分开( diverge的过去式和过去分词 )； 偏离； 分歧； 分道扬镳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
felicitous
|
|
| adj.恰当的，巧妙的；n.恰当，贴切 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
sardonic
|
|
| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |