I rode that night as far as Carlow, where I lay at the best inn; and being asked what was my name by the landlord of the house, gave it as Mr. Redmond, according to my cousin’s instructions, and said I was of the Redmonds of Waterford county, and was on my road to Trinity College, Dublin, to be educated there. Seeing my handsome appearance, silver-hiked sword, and well-filled valise, my landlord made free to send up a jug1 of claret without my asking; and charged, you may be sure, pretty handsomely for it in the bill. No gentleman in those good old days went to bed without a good share of liquor to set him sleeping, and on this my first day’s entrance into the world, I made a point to act the fine gentleman completely; and, I assure you, succeeded in my part to admiration2. The excitement of the events of the day, the quitting my home, the meeting with Captain Quin, were enough to set my brains in a whirl, without the claret; which served to finish me completely. I did not dream of the death of Quin, as some milksops, perhaps, would have done; indeed, I have never had any of that foolish remorse3 consequent upon any of my affairs of honour: always considering, from the first, that where a gentleman risks his own life in manly4 combat, he is a fool to be ashamed because he wins. I slept at Carlow as sound as man could sleep; drank a tankard of small beer and a toast to my breakfast; and exchanged the first of my gold pieces to settle the bill, not forgetting to pay all the servants liberally, and as a gentleman should. I began so the first day of my life, and so have continued. No man has been at greater straits than I, and has borne more pinching poverty and hardship; but nobody can say of me that, if I had a guinea, I was not free-handed with it, and did not spend it as well as a lord could do.
I had no doubts of the future: thinking that a man of my person, parts, and courage, could make his way anywhere. Besides, I had twenty gold guineas in my pocket; a sum which (although I was mistaken) I calculated would last me for four months at least, during which time something would be done towards the making of my fortune. So I rode on, singing to myself, or chatting with the passers-by; and all the girls along the road said God save me for a clever gentleman! As for Nora and Castle Brady, between today and yesterday there seemed to be a gap as of half-a-score of years. I vowed5 I would never re-enter the place but as a great man; and I kept my vow6 too, as you shall hear in due time.
There was much more liveliness and bustle7 on the king’s highroad in those times, than in these days of stage-coaches, which carry you from one end of the kingdom to another in a few score hours. The gentry8 rode their own horses or drove in their own coaches, and spent three days on a journey which now occupies ten hours; so that there was no lack of company for a person travelling towards Dublin. I made part of the journey from Carlow towards Naas with a well-armed gentleman from Kilkenny, dressed in green and a gold cord, with a patch on his eye, and riding a powerful mare9. He asked me the question of the day, and whither I was bound, and whether my mother was not afraid on account of the highwaymen to let one so young as myself to travel? But I said, pulling out one of them from a holster, that I had a pair of good pistols that had already done execution, and were ready to do it again; and here, a pock-marked man coming up, he put spurs into his bay mare and left me. She was a much more powerful animal than mine; and, besides, I did not wish to fatigue10 my horse, wishing to enter Dublin that night, and in reputable condition.
As I rode towards Kilcullen, I saw a crowd of the peasant-people assembled round a one-horse chair, and my friend in green, as I thought, making off half a mile up the hill. A footman was howling ‘Stop thief!’ at the top of his voice; but the country fellows were only laughing at his distress11, and making all sorts of jokes at the adventure which had just befallen.
‘Sure you might have kept him off with your blunderBUSH!’ says one fellow.
‘Oh, the coward! to let the Captain BATE12 you; and he only one eye!’ cries another.
‘The next time my Lady travels, she’d better lave you at home!’ said a third.
‘What is this noise, fellows?’ said I, riding up amongst them, and, seeing a lady in the carriage very pale and frightened, gave a slash13 of my whip, and bade the red-shanked ruffians keep off. ‘What has happened, madam, to annoy your Ladyship?’ I said, pulling off my hat, and bringing my mare up in a prance14 to the chair window.
The lady explained. She was the wife of Captain Fitzsimons, and was hastening to join the Captain at Dublin. Her chair had been stopped by a highway-man: the great oaf of a servant-man had fallen down on his knees armed as he was; and though there were thirty people in the next field working when the ruffian attacked her, not one of them would help her; but, on the contrary, wished the Captain, as they called the highwayman, good luck.
‘Sure he’s the friend of the poor,’ said one fellow, ‘and good luck to him!’
‘Was it any business of ours?’ asked another. And another told, grinning, that it was the famous Captain Freny, who, having bribed15 the jury to acquit16 him two days back at Kilkenny assizes, had mounted his horse at the gaol17 door, and the very next day had robbed two barristers who were going the circuit.
I told this pack of rascals18 to be off to their work, or they should taste of my thong20, and proceeded, as well as I could, to comfort Mrs. Fitzsimons under her misfortunes. ‘Had she lost much?’ ‘Everything: her purse, containing upwards21 of a hundred guineas; her jewels, snuff-boxes, watches, and a pair of diamond shoe-buckles of the Captain’s.’ These mishaps24 I sincerely commiserated25; and knowing her by her accent to be an Englishwoman, deplored26 the difference that existed between the two countries, and said that in OUR country (meaning England) such atrocities27 were unknown.
‘You, too, are an Englishman?’ said she, with rather a tone of surprise. On which I said I was proud to be such: as, in fact, I was; and I never knew a true Tory gentleman of Ireland who did not wish he could say as much.
I rode by Mrs. Fitzsimon’s chair all the way to Naas; and, as she had been robbed of her purse, asked permission to lend her a couple of pieces to pay her expenses at the inn: which sum she was graciously pleased to accept, and was, at the same time, kind enough to invite me to share her dinner. To the lady’s questions regarding my birth and parentage, I replied that I was a young gentleman of large fortune (this was not true; but what is the use of crying bad fish? my dear mother instructed me early in this sort of prudence) and good family in the county of Waterford; that I was going to Dublin for my studies, and that my mother allowed me five hundred per annum. Mrs. Fitzsimons was equally communicative. She was the daughter of General Granby Somerset of Worcestershire, of whom, of course, I had heard (and though I had not, of course I was too well-bred to say so); and had made, as she must confess, a runaway28 match with Ensign Fitzgerald Fitzsimons. Had I been in Donegal? — No! That was a pity. The Captain’s father possesses a hundred thousand acres there, and Fitzsimonsburgh Castle’s the finest mansion29 in Ireland. Captain Fitzsimons is the eldest30 son; and, though he has quarrelled with his father, must inherit the vast property. She went on to tell me about the balls at Dublin, the banquets at the Castle, the horse-races at the Phoenix31, the ridottos and routs32, until I became quite eager to join in those pleasures; and I only felt grieved to think that my position would render secrecy33 necessary, and prevent me from being presented at the Court, of which the Fitzsimonses were the most elegant ornaments34. How different was her lively rattle35 to that of the vulgar wenches at the Kilwangan assemblies! In every sentence she mentioned a lord or a person of quality. She evidently spoke36 French and Italian, of the former of which languages I have said I knew a few words; and, as for her English accent, why, perhaps I was no judge of that, for, to say the truth, she was the first REAL English person I had ever met. She recommended me, further, to be very cautious with regard to the company I should meet at Dublin, where rogues37 and adventurers of all countries abounded38; and my delight and gratitude39 to her may be imagined, when, as our conversation grew more intimate (as we sat over our dessert), she kindly40 offered to accommodate me with lodgings41 in her own house, where her Fitzsimons, she said, would welcome with delight her gallant42 young preserver.
‘Indeed, madam,’ said I, ‘I have preserved nothing for you.’ Which was perfectly43 true; for had I not come up too late after the robbery to prevent the highwayman from carrying off her money and pearls?
‘And sure, ma’am, them wasn’t much,’ said Sullivan, the blundering servant, who had been so frightened at Freny’s approach, and was waiting on us at dinner. ‘Didn’t he return you the thirteenpence in copper44, and the watch, saying it was only pinch-beck?’
But his lady rebuked45 him for a saucy46 varlet, and turned him out of the room at once, saying to me when he had gone, ‘that the fool didn’t know what was the meaning of a hundred-pound bill, which was in the pocket-book that Freny took from her.’
Perhaps had I been a little older in the world’s experience, I should have begun to see that Madam Fitzsimons was not the person of fashion she pretended to be; but, as it was, I took all her stories for truth, and, when the landlord brought the bill for dinner, paid it with the air of a lord. Indeed, she made no motion to produce the two pieces I had lent to her; and so we rode on slowly towards Dublin, into which city we made our entrance at nightfall. The rattle and splendour of the coaches, the flare47 of the linkboys, the number and magnificence of the houses, struck me with the greatest wonder; though I was careful to disguise this feeling, according to my dear mother’s directions, who told me that it was the mark of a man of fashion never to wonder at anything, and never to admit that any house, equipage, or company he saw, was more splendid or genteel than what he had been accustomed to at home.
We stopped, at length, at a house of rather mean appearance, and were let into a passage by no means so clean as that at Barryville, where there was a great smell of supper and punch. A stout48 red-faced man, without a periwig, and in rather a tattered49 nightgown and cap, made his appearance from the parlour, and embraced his lady (for it was Captain Fitzsimons) with a great deal of cordiality. Indeed, when he saw that a stranger accompanied her, he embraced her more rapturously than ever. In introducing me, she persisted in saying that I was her preserver, and complimented my gallantry as much as if I had killed Freny, instead of coming up when the robbery was over. The Captain said he knew the Redmonds of Waterford intimately well: which assertion alarmed me, as I knew nothing of the family to which I was stated to belong. But I posed him, by asking WHICH of the Redmonds he knew, for I had never heard his name in our family. He said he knew the Redmonds of Redmondstown. ‘Oh,’ says I, ‘mine are the Redmonds of Castle Redmond;’ and so I put him off the scent50. I went to see my nag51 put up at a livery-stable hard by, with the Captain’s horse and chair, and returned to my entertainer.
Although there were the relics52 of some mutton-chops and onions on a cracked dish before him, the Captain said, ‘My love, I wish I had known of your coming, for Bob Moriarty and I just finished the most delicious venison pasty, which his Grace the Lord Lieutenant53 sent us, with a flask54 of Sillery from his own cellar. You know the wine, my dear? But as bygones are bygones, and no help for them, what say ye to a fine lobster55 and a bottle of as good claret as any in Ireland? Betty, clear these things from the table, and make the mistress and our young friend welcome to our home.’
Not having small change, Mr. Fitzsimons asked me to lend him a tenpenny-piece to purchase the dish of lobsters56; but his lady, handing out one of the guineas I had given her, bade the girl get the change for that, and procure57 the supper; which she did presently, bringing back only a very few shillings out of the guinea to her mistress, saying that the fishmonger had kept the remainder for an old account. ‘And the more great big blundering fool you, for giving the gold piece to him,’ roared Mr. Fitzsimons. I forget how many hundred guineas he said he had paid the fellow during the year.
Our supper was seasoned, if not by any great elegance58, at least by a plentiful59 store of anecdotes60, concerning the highest personages of the city; with whom, according to himself, the Captain lived on terms of the utmost intimacy61. Not to be behindhand with him, I spoke of my own estates and property as if I was as rich as a duke. I told all the stories of the nobility I had ever heard from my mother, and some that, perhaps, I had invented; and ought to have been aware that my host was an impostor himself, as he did not find out my own blunders and misstatements. But youth is ever too confident. It was some time before I knew that I had made no very desirable acquaintance in Captain Fitzsimons and his lady; and, indeed, went to bed congratulating myself upon my wonderful good luck in having, at the outset of my adventures, fallen in with so distinguished62 a couple.
The appearance of the chamber63 I occupied might, indeed, have led me to imagine that the heir of Fitzsimonsburgh Castle, county Donegal, was not as yet reconciled with his wealthy parents; and, had I been an English lad, probably my suspicion and distrust would have been aroused instantly. But perhaps, as the reader knows, we are not so particular in Ireland on the score of neatness as people are in this precise country; hence the disorder64 of my bedchamber did not strike me so much. For were not all the windows broken and stuffed with rags even at Castle Brady, my uncle’s superb mansion? Was there ever a lock to the doors there, or if a lock, a handle to the lock or a hasp to fasten it to? So, though my bedroom boasted of these inconveniences, and a few more; though my counterpane was evidently a greased brocade dress of Mrs. Fitzsimons’s, and my cracked toilet-glass not much bigger than a half-crown, yet I was used to this sort of ways in Irish houses, and still thought myself in that of a man of fashion. There was no lock to the drawers, which, when they DID open, were full of my hostess’s rouge-pots, shoes, stays, and rags; so I allowed my wardrobe to remain in my valise, but set out my silver dressing-apparatus upon the ragged66 cloth on the drawers, where it shone to great advantage.
When Sullivan appeared in the morning, I asked him about my mare, which he informed me was doing well. I then bade him bring me hot shaving-water, in a loud dignified67 tone.
‘Hot shaving-water!’ says he, bursting out laughing (and I confess not without reason). ‘Is it yourself you’re going to shave?’ said he. ‘And maybe when I bring you up the water I’ll bring you up the cat too, and you can shave her.’ I flung a boot at the scoundrel’s head in reply to this impertinence, and was soon with my friends in the parlour for breakfast. There was a hearty68 welcome, and the same cloth that had been used the night before: as I recognised by the black mark of the Irish-stew dish, and the stain left by a pot of porter at supper.
My host greeted me with great cordiality; Mrs. Fitzsimons said I was an elegant figure for the Phoenix; and indeed, without vanity, I may say of myself that there were worse-looking fellows in Dublin than I. I had not the powerful chest and muscular proportion which I have since attained69 (to be exchanged, alas70! for gouty legs and chalk-stones in my fingers; but ’tis the way of mortality), but I had arrived at near my present growth of six feet, and with my hair in buckle22, a handsome lace jabot and wristbands to my shirt, and a red plush waistcoat, barred with gold, looked the gentleman I was born. I wore my drab coat with plate buttons, that was grown too small for me, and quite agreed with Captain Fitzsimons that I must pay a visit to his tailor, in order to procure myself a coat more fitting my size.
‘I needn’t ask whether you had a comfortable bed,’ said he. ‘Young Fred Pimpleton (Lord Pimpleton’s second son) slept in it for seven months, during which he did me the honour to stay with me, and if HE was satisfied, I don’t know who else wouldn’t be.’
After breakfast we walked out to see the town, and Mr. Fitzsimons introduced me to several of his acquaintances whom we met, as his particular young friend Mr. Redmond, of Waterford county; he also presented me at his hatter’s and tailor’s as a gentleman of great expectations and large property; and although I told the latter that I should not pay him ready cash for more than one coat, which fitted me to a nicety, yet he insisted upon making me several, which I did not care to refuse. The Captain, also, who certainly wanted such a renewal71 of raiment, told the tailor to send him home a handsome military frock, which he selected.
Then we went home to Mrs. Fitzsimons, who drove out in her chair to the Phoenix Park, where a review was, and where numbers of the young gentry were round about her; to all of whom she presented me as her preserver of the day before. Indeed, such was her complimentary72 account of me, that before half-an-hour I had got to be considered as a young gentleman of the highest family in the land, related to all the principal nobility, a cousin of Captain Fitzsimons, and heir to L10,000 a year. Fitzsimons said he had ridden over every inch of my estate; and ‘faith, as he chose to tell these stories for me, I let him have his way — indeed, was not a little pleased (as youth is) to be made much of, and to pass for a great personage. I had little notion then that I had got among a set of impostors — that Captain Fitzsimons was only an adventurer, and his lady a person of no credit; but such are the dangers to which youth is perpetually subject, and hence let young men take warning by me.
I purposely hurry over the description of my life in which the incidents were painful, of no great interest except to my unlucky self, and of which my companions were certainly not of a kind befitting my quality. The fact was, a young man could hardly have fallen into worse hands than those in which I now found myself. I have been to Donegal since, and have never seen the famous Castle of Fitzsimonsburgh, which is, likewise, unknown to the oldest inhabitants of that county; nor are the Granby Somersets much better known in Worcestershire. The couple into whose hands I had fallen were of a sort much more common then than at present, for the vast wars of later days have rendered it very difficult for noblemen’s footmen or hangers-on to procure commissions; and such, in fact, had been the original station of Captain Fitzsimons. Had I known his origin, of course I would have died rather than have associated with him: but in those simple days of youth I took his tales for truth, and fancied myself in high luck at being, at my outset into life, introduced into such a family. Alas! we are the sport of destiny. When I consider upon what small circumstances all the great events of my life have turned, I can hardly believe myself to have been anything but a puppet in the hands of Fate; which has played its most fantastic tricks upon me.
The Captain had been a gentleman’s gentleman, and his lady of no higher rank. The society which this worthy73 pair kept was at a sort of ordinary which they held, and at which their friends were always welcome on payment of a certain moderate sum for their dinner. After dinner, you may be sure that cards were not wanting, and that the company who played did not play for love merely. To these parties persons of all sorts would come: young bloods from the regiments74 garrisoned75 in Dublin: young clerks from the Castle; horse-riding, wine-tippling, watchman-beating men of fashion about town, such as existed in Dublin in that day more than in any other city with which I am acquainted in Europe. I never knew young fellows make such a show, and upon such small means. I never knew young gentlemen with what I may call such a genius for idleness; and whereas an Englishman with fifty guineas a year is not able to do much more than starve, and toil65 like a slave in a profession, a young Irish buck23 with the same sum will keep his horses, and drink his bottle, and live as lazy as a lord. Here was a doctor who never had a patient, cheek by jowl with an attorney who never had a client: neither had a guinea — each had a good horse to ride in the Park, and the best of clothes to his back. A sporting clergyman without a living; several young wine-merchants, who consumed much more liquor than they had or sold; and men of similar character, formed the society at the house into which, by ill luck, I was thrown. What could happen to a man but misfortune from associating with such company? —(I have not mentioned the ladies of the society, who were, perhaps, no better than the males)— and in a very very short time I became their prey76.
As for my poor twenty guineas, in three days I saw, with terror, that they had dwindled77 down to eight: theatres and taverns78 having already made such cruel inroads in my purse. At play I had lost, it is true, a couple of pieces; but seeing that every one round about me played upon honour and gave their bills, I, of course, preferred that medium to the payment of ready money, and when I lost paid on account.
With the tailors, saddlers, and others, I employed similar means; and in so far Mr. Fitzsimons’s representation did me good, for the tradesmen took him at his word regarding my fortune (I have since learned that the rascal19 pigeoned several other young men of property), and for a little time supplied me with any goods I might be pleased to order. At length, my cash running low, I was compelled to pawn79 some of the suits with which the tailor had provided me; for I did not like to part with my mare, on which I daily rode in the Park, and which I loved as the gift of my respected uncle. I raised some little money, too, on a few trinkets which I had purchased of a jeweller who pressed his credit upon me; and thus was enabled to keep up appearances for yet a little time.
I asked at the post-office repeatedly for letters for Mr. Redmond, but none such had arrived; and, indeed, I always felt rather relieved when the answer of ‘No’ was given to me; for I was not very anxious that my mother should know my proceedings80 in the extravagant81 life which I was leading at Dublin. It could not last very long, however; for when my cash was quite exhausted82, and I paid a second visit to the tailor, requesting him to make me more clothes, the fellow hummed and ha’d, and had the impudence83 to ask payment for those already supplied: on which, telling him I should withdraw my custom from him, I abruptly84 left him. The goldsmith too (a rascal Jew) declined to let me take a gold chain to which I had a fancy; and I felt now, for the first time, in some perplexity. To add to it, one of the young gentlemen who frequented Mr. Fitzsimons’s boarding-house had received from me, in the way of play, an IOU for eighteen pounds (which I lost to him at piquet), and which, owing Mr. Curbyn, the livery-stable keeper, a bill, he passed into that person’s hands. Fancy my rage and astonishment85, then, on going for my mare, to find that he positively86 refused to let me have her out of the stable, except under payment of my promissory note! It was in vain that I offered him his choice of four notes that I had in my pocket — one of Fitzsimons’s for L20, one of Counsellor Mulligan’s, and so forth87; the dealer88, who was a Yorkshireman, shook his head, and laughed at every one of them; and said, ‘I tell you what, Master Redmond, you appear a young fellow of birth and fortune, and let me whisper in your ear that you have fallen into very bad hands — it’s a regular gang of swindlers; and a gentleman of your rank and quality should never be seen in such company. Go home: pack up your valise, pay the little trifle to me, mount your mare, and ride back again to your parents — it’s the very best thing you can do.’
In a pretty nest of villains89, indeed, was I plunged90! It seemed as if all my misfortunes were to break on me at once; for, on going home and ascending91 to my bedroom in a disconsolate92 way, I found the Captain and his lady there before me, my valise open, my wardrobe lying on the ground, and my keys in the possession of the odious93 Fitzsimons. ‘Whom have I been harbouring in my house?’ roared he, as I entered the apartment. ‘Who are you, sirrah?’
‘SIRRAH! Sir,’ said I, ‘I am as good a gentleman as any in Ireland.’
‘You’re an impostor, young man: a schemer, a deceiver!’ shouted the Captain.
‘Repeat the words again, and I will run you through the body,’ replied I.
‘Tut, tut! I can play at fencing as well as you, Mr. REDMOND BARRY. Ah! you change colour, do you — your secret is known, is it? You come like a viper94 into the bosom95 of innocent families; you represent yourself as the heir of my friends the Redmonds of Castle Redmond; I inthrojuice you to the nobility and genthry of this methropolis’ (the Captain’s brogue was large, and his words, by preference, long); ‘I take you to my tradesmen, who give you credit, and what do I find? That you have pawned96 the goods which you took up at their houses.’
‘I have given them my acceptances, sir,’ said I with a dignified air.
‘UNDER WHAT NAME, unhappy boy — under what name?’ screamed Mrs. Fitzsimons; and then, indeed, I remembered that I had signed the documents Barry Redmond instead of Redmond Barry: but what else could I do? Had not my mother desired me to take no other designation? After uttering a furious tirade97 against me, in which he spoke of the fatal discovery of my real name on my linen98 — of his misplaced confidence of affection, and the shame with which he should be obliged to meet his fashionable friends and confess that he had harboured a swindler, he gathered up the linen, clothes, silver toilet articles, and the rest of my gear, saying that he should step out that moment for an officer and give me up to the just revenge of the law.
During the first part of his speech, the thought of the imprudence of which I had been guilty, and the predicament in which I was plunged, had so puzzled and confounded me, that I had not uttered a word in reply to the fellow’s abuse, but had stood quite dumb before him. The sense of danger, however, at once roused me to action. ‘Hark ye, Mr. Fitzsimons,’ said I; ‘I will tell you why I was obliged to alter my name: which is Barry, and the best name in Ireland. I changed it, sir, because, on the day before I came to Dublin, I killed a man in deadly combat — an Englishman, sir, and a captain in His Majesty’s service; and if you offer to let or hinder me in the slightest way, the same arm which destroyed him is ready to punish you; and by Heaven, sir, you or I don’t leave this room alive!’
So saying, I drew my sword like lightning, and giving a ‘ha! ha!’ and a stamp with my foot, lunged within an inch of Fitzsimons’s heart, who started back and turned deadly pale, while his wife, with a scream, flung herself between us.
‘Dearest Redmond,’ she cried, ‘be pacified99. Fitzsimons, you don’t want the poor child’s blood. Let him escape — in Heaven’s name let him go.’
‘He may go hang for me,’ said Fitzsimons sulkily; ‘and he’d better be off quickly, too, for the jeweller and the tailor have called once, and will be here again before long. It was Moses the pawnbroker100 that peached: I had the news from him myself.’ By which I conclude that Mr. Fitzsimons had been with the new laced frock-coat which he procured101 from the merchant tailor on the day when the latter first gave me credit.
What was the end of our conversation? Where was now a home for the descendant of the Barrys? Home was shut to me by my misfortune in the duel102. I was expelled from Dublin by a persecution103 occasioned, I must confess, by my own imprudence. I had no time to wait and choose: no place of refuge to fly to. Fitzsimons, after his abuse of me, left the room growling104, but not hostile; his wife insisted that we should shake hands, and he promised not to molest105 me. Indeed, I owed the fellow nothing; and, on the contrary, had his acceptance actually in my pocket for money lost at play. As for my friend Mrs. Fitzsimons, she sat down on the bed and fairly burst out crying. She had her faults, but her heart was kind; and though she possessed106 but three shillings in the world, and fourpence in copper, the poor soul made me take it before I left her — to go — whither? My mind was made up: there was a score of recruiting-parties in the town beating up for men to join our gallant armies in America and Germany; I knew where to find one of these, having stood by the sergeant107 at a review in the Phoenix Park, where he pointed108 out to me characters on the field, for which I treated him to drink.
I gave one of my shillings to Sullivan the butler of the Fitzsimonses, and, running into the street, hastened to the little alehouse at which my acquaintance was quartered, and before ten minutes had accepted His Majesty’s shilling. I told him frankly109 that I was a young gentleman in difficulties; that I had killed an officer in a duel, and was anxious to get out of the country. But I need not have troubled myself with any explanations; King George was too much in want of men then to heed110 from whence they came, and a fellow of my inches, the sergeant said, was always welcome. Indeed, I could not, he said, have chosen my time better. A transport was lying at Dunleary, waiting for a wind, and on board that ship, to which I marched that night, I made some surprising discoveries, which shall be told in the next chapter.
点击收听单词发音
1 jug | |
n.(有柄,小口,可盛水等的)大壶,罐,盂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 remorse | |
n.痛恨,悔恨,自责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 manly | |
adj.有男子气概的;adv.男子般地,果断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 vowed | |
起誓,发誓(vow的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 vow | |
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 bustle | |
v.喧扰地忙乱,匆忙,奔忙;n.忙碌;喧闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 gentry | |
n.绅士阶级,上层阶级 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 mare | |
n.母马,母驴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 bate | |
v.压制;减弱;n.(制革用的)软化剂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 slash | |
vi.大幅度削减;vt.猛砍,尖锐抨击,大幅减少;n.猛砍,斜线,长切口,衣衩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 prance | |
v.(马)腾跃,(人)神气活现地走 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 bribed | |
v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 );向(某人)行贿,贿赂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 acquit | |
vt.宣判无罪;(oneself)使(自己)表现出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 gaol | |
n.(jail)监狱;(不加冠词)监禁;vt.使…坐牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 rascals | |
流氓( rascal的名词复数 ); 无赖; (开玩笑说法)淘气的人(尤指小孩); 恶作剧的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 rascal | |
n.流氓;不诚实的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 thong | |
n.皮带;皮鞭;v.装皮带 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 buckle | |
n.扣子,带扣;v.把...扣住,由于压力而弯曲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 buck | |
n.雄鹿,雄兔;v.马离地跳跃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 mishaps | |
n.轻微的事故,小的意外( mishap的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 commiserated | |
v.怜悯,同情( commiserate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 deplored | |
v.悲叹,痛惜,强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 atrocities | |
n.邪恶,暴行( atrocity的名词复数 );滔天大罪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 runaway | |
n.逃走的人,逃亡,亡命者;adj.逃亡的,逃走的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 mansion | |
n.大厦,大楼;宅第 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 eldest | |
adj.最年长的,最年老的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 phoenix | |
n.凤凰,长生(不死)鸟;引申为重生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 routs | |
n.打垮,赶跑( rout的名词复数 );(体育)打败对方v.打垮,赶跑( rout的第三人称单数 );(体育)打败对方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 secrecy | |
n.秘密,保密,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 ornaments | |
n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 );点缀;装饰品;首饰v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 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: |
|
|
37 rogues | |
n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 );无赖;调皮捣蛋的人;离群的野兽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 abounded | |
v.大量存在,充满,富于( abound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 rebuked | |
责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 saucy | |
adj.无礼的;俊俏的;活泼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 flare | |
v.闪耀,闪烁;n.潮红;突发 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 tattered | |
adj.破旧的,衣衫破的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 nag | |
v.(对…)不停地唠叨;n.爱唠叨的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 relics | |
[pl.]n.遗物,遗迹,遗产;遗体,尸骸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 flask | |
n.瓶,火药筒,砂箱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 lobster | |
n.龙虾,龙虾肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 lobsters | |
龙虾( lobster的名词复数 ); 龙虾肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 procure | |
vt.获得,取得,促成;vi.拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 elegance | |
n.优雅;优美,雅致;精致,巧妙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 plentiful | |
adj.富裕的,丰富的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 anecdotes | |
n.掌故,趣闻,轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 disorder | |
n.紊乱,混乱;骚动,骚乱;疾病,失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 renewal | |
adj.(契约)延期,续订,更新,复活,重来 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 complimentary | |
adj.赠送的,免费的,赞美的,恭维的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 regiments | |
(军队的)团( regiment的名词复数 ); 大量的人或物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 garrisoned | |
卫戍部队守备( garrison的过去式和过去分词 ); 派部队驻防 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 dwindled | |
v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 taverns | |
n.小旅馆,客栈,酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 pawn | |
n.典当,抵押,小人物,走卒;v.典当,抵押 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 impudence | |
n.厚颜无耻;冒失;无礼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 dealer | |
n.商人,贩子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 villains | |
n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 );罪犯;(小说、戏剧等中的)反面人物;淘气鬼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 ascending | |
adj.上升的,向上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 disconsolate | |
adj.忧郁的,不快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 odious | |
adj.可憎的,讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 viper | |
n.毒蛇;危险的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 pawned | |
v.典当,抵押( pawn的过去式和过去分词 );以(某事物)担保 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 tirade | |
n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 linen | |
n.亚麻布,亚麻线,亚麻制品;adj.亚麻布制的,亚麻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 pacified | |
使(某人)安静( pacify的过去式和过去分词 ); 息怒; 抚慰; 在(有战争的地区、国家等)实现和平 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 pawnbroker | |
n.典当商,当铺老板 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 procured | |
v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 );拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 duel | |
n./v.决斗;(双方的)斗争 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 persecution | |
n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 growling | |
n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 molest | |
vt.骚扰,干扰,调戏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 sergeant | |
n.警官,中士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 heed | |
v.注意,留意;n.注意,留心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |