He had a vague, half-formed notion of returning to Nantes; and there, by employing the newly found weapon of his oratory2, excite the people into sheltering him as the first victim of the persecution3 he had foreseen, and against which he had sworn them to take up arms. But the idea was one which he entertained merely as an indefinite possibility upon which he felt no real impulse to act.
Meanwhile he chuckled4 at the thought of Fresnel as he had last seen him, with his muffled5 face and glaring eyeballs. “For one who was anything but a man of action,” he writes, “I felt that I had acquitted6 myself none so badly.” It is a phrase that recurs7 at intervals8 in his sketchy9 “Confessions.” Constantly is he reminding you that he is a man of mental and not physical activities, and apologizing when dire10 necessity drives him into acts of violence. I suspect this insistence11 upon his philosophic12 detachment — for which I confess he had justification13 enough — to betray his besetting15 vanity.
With increasing fatigue16 came depression and self-criticism. He had stupidly overshot his mark in insultingly denouncing M. de Lesdiguieres. “It is much better,” he says somewhere, “to be wicked than to be stupid. Most of this world’s misery17 is the fruit not as priests tell us of wickedness, but of stupidity.” And we know that of all stupidities he considered anger the most deplorable. Yet he had permitted himself to be angry with a creature like M. de Lesdiguieres — a lackey18, a fribble, a nothing, despite his potentialities for evil. He could perfectly19 have discharged his self-imposed mission without arousing the vindictive20 resentment21 of the King’s Lieutenant22.
He beheld24 himself vaguely25 launched upon life with the riding-suit in which he stood, a single louis d’or and a few pieces of silver for all capital, and a knowledge of law which had been inadequate26 to preserve him from the consequences of infringing27 it.
He had, in addition — but these things that were to be the real salvation28 of him he did not reckon — his gift of laughter, sadly repressed of late, and the philosophic outlook and mercurial29 temperament30 which are the stock-in-trade of your adventurer in all ages.
Meanwhile he tramped mechanically on through the night, until he felt that he could tramp no more. He had skirted the little township of Guichen, and now within a half-mile of Guignen, and with Gavrillac a good seven miles behind him, his legs refused to carry him any farther.
He was midway across the vast common to the north of Guignen when he came to a halt. He had left the road, and taken heedlessly to the footpath32 that struck across the waste of indifferent pasture interspersed33 with clumps34 of gorse. A stone’s throw away on his right the common was bordered by a thorn hedge. Beyond this loomed35 a tall building which he knew to be an open barn, standing36 on the edge of a long stretch of meadowland. That dark, silent shadow it may have been that had brought him to a standstill, suggesting shelter to his subconsciousness37. A moment he hesitated; then he struck across towards a spot where a gap in the hedge was closed by a five-barred gate. He pushed the gate open, went through the gap, and stood now before the barn. It was as big as a house, yet consisted of no more than a roof carried upon half a dozen tall, brick pillars. But densely38 packed under that roof was a great stack of hay that promised a warm couch on so cold a night. Stout39 timbers had been built into the brick pillars, with projecting ends to serve as ladders by which the labourer might climb to pack or withdraw hay. With what little strength remained him, Andre–Louis climbed by one of these and landed safely at the top, where he was forced to kneel, for lack of room to stand upright. Arrived there, he removed his coat and neckcloth, his sodden40 boots and stockings. Next he cleared a trough for his body, and lying down in it, covered himself to the neck with the hay he had removed. Within five minutes he was lost to all worldly cares and soundly asleep.
When next he awakened41, the sun was already high in the heavens, from which he concluded that the morning was well advanced; and this before he realized quite where he was or how he came there. Then to his awakening42 senses came a drone of voices close at hand, to which at first he paid little heed31. He was deliciously refreshed, luxuriously43 drowsy44 and luxuriously warm.
But as consciousness and memory grew more full, he raised his head clear of the hay that he might free both ears to listen, his pulses faintly quickened by the nascent45 fear that those voices might bode46 him no good. Then he caught the reassuring47 accents of a woman, musical and silvery, though laden49 with alarm.
“Ah, mon Dieu, Leandre, let us separate at once. If it should be my father . . . ”
And upon this a man’s voice broke in, calm and reassuring:
“No, no, Climene; you are mistaken. There is no one coming. We are quite safe. Why do you start at shadows?”
“Ah, Leandre, if he should find us here together! I tremble at the very thought.”
More was not needed to reassure50 Andre–Louis. He had overheard enough to know that this was but the case of a pair of lovers who, with less to fear of life, were yet — after the manner of their kind — more timid of heart than he. Curiosity drew him from his warm trough to the edge of the hay. Lying prone51, he advanced his head and peered down.
In the space of cropped meadow between the barn and the hedge stood a man and a woman, both young. The man was a well-set-up, comely52 fellow, with a fine head of chestnut53 hair tied in a queue by a broad bow of black satin. He was dressed with certain tawdry attempts at ostentatious embellishments, which did not prepossess one at first glance in his favour. His coat of a fashionable cut was of faded plum-coloured velvet54 edged with silver lace, whose glory had long since departed. He affected55 ruffles56, but for want of starch57 they hung like weeping willows58 over hands that were fine and delicate. His breeches were of plain black cloth, and his black stockings were of cotton — matters entirely59 out of harmony with his magnificent coat. His shoes, stout and serviceable, were decked with buckles60 of cheap, lack-lustre paste. But for his engaging and ingenuous61 countenance62, Andre–Louis must have set him down as a knight63 of that order which lives dishonestly by its wits. As it was, he suspended judgment64 whilst pushing investigation65 further by a study of the girl. At the outset, be it confessed that it was a study that attracted him prodigiously66. And this notwithstanding the fact that, bookish and studious as were his ways, and in despite of his years, it was far from his habit to waste consideration on femininity.
The child — she was no more than that, perhaps twenty at the most — possessed67, in addition to the allurements69 of face and shape that went very near perfection, a sparkling vivacity70 and a grace of movement the like of which Andre–Louis did not remember ever before to have beheld assembled in one person. And her voice too — that musical, silvery voice that had awakened him — possessed in its exquisite71 modulations an allurement68 of its own that must have been irresistible72, he thought, in the ugliest of her sex. She wore a hooded73 mantle75 of green cloth, and the hood74 being thrown back, her dainty head was all revealed to him. There were glints of gold struck by the morning sun from her light nut-brown hair that hung in a cluster of curls about her oval face. Her complexion76 was of a delicacy77 that he could compare only with a rose petal78. He could not at that distance discern the colour of her eyes, but he guessed them blue, as he admired the sparkle of them under the fine, dark line of eyebrows79.
He could not have told you why, but he was conscious that it aggrieved80 him to find her so intimate with this pretty young fellow, who was partly clad, as it appeared, in the cast-offs of a nobleman. He could not guess her station, but the speech that reached him was cultured in tone and word. He strained to listen.
“I shall know no peace, Leandre, until we are safely wedded,” she was saying. “Not until then shall I count myself beyond his reach. And yet if we marry without his consent, we but make trouble for ourselves, and of gaining his consent I almost despair.”
Evidently, thought Andre–Louis, her father was a man of sense, who saw through the shabby finery of M. Leandre, and was not to be dazzled by cheap paste buckles.
“My dear Climene,” the young man was answering her, standing squarely before her, and holding both her hands, “you are wrong to despond. If I do not reveal to you all the stratagem81 that I have prepared to win the consent of your unnatural82 parent, it is because I am loath83 to rob you of the pleasure of the surprise that is in store. But place your faith in me, and in that ingenious friend of whom I have spoken, and who should be here at any moment.”
The stilted85 ass48! Had he learnt that speech by heart in advance, or was he by nature a pedantic86 idiot who expressed himself in this set and formal manner? How came so sweet a blossom to waste her perfumes on such a prig? And what a ridiculous name the creature owned!
Thus Andre–Louis to himself from his observatory87. Meanwhile, she was speaking.
“That is what my heart desires, Leandre, but I am beset14 by fears lest your stratagem should be too late. I am to marry this horrible Marquis of Sbrufadelli this very day. He arrives by noon. He comes to sign the contract — to make me the Marchioness of Sbrufadelli. Oh!” It was a cry of pain from that tender young heart. “The very name burns my lips. If it were mine I could never utter it — never! The man is so detestable. Save me, Leandre. Save me! You are my only hope.”
Andre–Louis was conscious of a pang88 of disappointment. She failed to soar to the heights he had expected of her. She was evidently infected by the stilted manner of her ridiculous lover. There was an atrocious lack of sincerity89 about her words. They touched his mind, but left his heart unmoved. Perhaps this was because of his antipathy90 to M. Leandre and to the issue involved.
So her father was marrying her to a marquis! That implied birth on her side. And yet she was content to pair off with this dull young adventurer in the tarnished91 lace! It was, he supposed, the sort of thing to be expected of a sex that all philosophy had taught him to regard as the maddest part of a mad species.
“It shall never be!” M. Leandre was storming passionately92. “Never! I swear it!” And he shook his puny93 fist at the blue vault94 of heaven — Ajax defying Jupiter. “Ah, but here comes our subtle friend . . . ” (Andre–Louis did not catch the name, M. Leandre having at that moment turned to face the gap in the hedge.) “He will bring us news, I know.”
Andre–Louis looked also in the direction of the gap. Through it emerged a lean, slight man in a rusty95 cloak and a three-cornered hat worn well down over his nose so as to shade his face. And when presently he doffed96 this hat and made a sweeping97 bow to the young lovers, Andre–Louis confessed to himself that had he been cursed with such a hangdog countenance he would have worn his hat in precisely98 such a manner, so as to conceal99 as much of it as possible. If M. Leandre appeared to be wearing, in part at least, the cast-offs of nobleman, the newcomer appeared to be wearing the cast-offs of M. Leandre. Yet despite his vile100 clothes and viler101 face, with its three days’ growth of beard, the fellow carried himself with a certain air; he positively102 strutted103 as he advanced, and he made a leg in a manner that was courtly and practised.
“Monsieur,” said he, with the air of a conspirator104, “the time for action has arrived, and so has the Marquis . . . That is why.”
The young lovers sprang apart in consternation105; Climene with clasped hands, parted lips, and a bosom106 that raced distractingly under its white fichu-menteur; M. Leandre agape, the very picture of foolishness and dismay.
Meanwhile the newcomer rattled107 on. “I was at the inn an hour ago when he descended108 there, and I studied him attentively109 whilst he was at breakfast. Having done so, not a single doubt remains110 me of our success. As for what he looks like, I could entertain you at length upon the fashion in which nature has designed his gross fatuity111. But that is no matter. We are concerned with what he is, with the wit of him. And I tell you confidently that I find him so dull and stupid that you may be confident he will tumble headlong into each and all of the traps I have so cunningly prepared for him.”
“Tell me, tell me! Speak!” Climene implored112 him, holding out her hands in a supplication113 no man of sensibility could have resisted. And then on the instant she caught her breath on a faint scream. “My father!” she exclaimed, turning distractedly from one to the other of those two. “He is coming! We are lost!”
“You must fly, Climene!” said M. Leandre.
“Too late!” she sobbed114. “Too late! He is here.”
“Calm, mademoiselle, calm!” the subtle friend was urging her. “Keep calm and trust to me. I promise you that all shall be well.”
“Oh!” cried M. Leandre, limply. “Say what you will, my friend, this is ruin — the end of all our hopes. Your wits will never extricate115 us from this. Never!”
Through the gap strode now an enormous man with an inflamed116 moon face and a great nose, decently dressed after the fashion of a solid bourgeois117. There was no mistaking his anger, but the expression that it found was an amazement118 to Andre–Louis.
“Leandre, you’re an imbecile! Too much phlegm, too much phlegm! Your words wouldn’t convince a ploughboy! Have you considered what they mean at all? Thus,” he cried, and casting his round hat from him in a broad gesture, he took his stand at M. Leandre’s side, and repeated the very words that Leandre had lately uttered, what time the three observed him coolly and attentively.
“Oh, say what you will, my friend, this is ruin — the end of all our hopes. Your wits will never extricate us from this. Never!”
A frenzy119 of despair vibrated in his accents. He swung again to face M. Leandre. “Thus,” he bade him contemptuously. “Let the passion of your hopelessness express itself in your voice. Consider that you are not asking Scaramouche here whether he has put a patch in your breeches. You are a despairing lover expressing . . . ”
He checked abruptly120, startled. Andre–Louis, suddenly realizing what was afoot, and how duped he had been, had loosed his laughter. The sound of it pealing121 and booming uncannily under the great roof that so immediately confined him was startling to those below.
The fat man was the first to recover, and he announced it after his own fashion in one of the ready sarcasms122 in which he habitually123 dealt.
“Hark!” he cried, “the very gods laugh at you, Leandre.” Then he addressed the roof of the barn and its invisible tenant23. “Hi! You there!”
Andre–Louis revealed himself by a further protrusion124 of his tousled head.
“Good-morning,” said he, pleasantly. Rising now on his knees, his horizon was suddenly extended to include the broad common beyond the hedge. He beheld there an enormous and very battered125 travelling chaise, a cart piled up with timbers partly visible under the sheet of oiled canvas that covered them, and a sort of house on wheels equipped with a tin chimney, from which the smoke was slowly curling. Three heavy Flemish horses and a couple of donkeys — all of them hobbled — were contentedly126 cropping the grass in the neighbourhood of these vehicles. These, had he perceived them sooner, must have given him the clue to the queer scene that had been played under his eyes. Beyond the hedge other figures were moving. Three at that moment came crowding into the gap — a saucy-faced girl with a tip-tilted nose, whom he supposed to be Columbine, the soubrette; a lean, active youngster, who must be the lackey Harlequin; and another rather loutish127 youth who might be a zany or an apothecary128.
All this he took in at a comprehensive glance that consumed no more time than it had taken him to say good-morning. To that good-morning Pantaloon replied in a bellow129:
“What the devil are you doing up there?”
“Precisely the same thing that you are doing down there,” was the answer. “I am trespassing131.”
“Eh?” said Pantaloon, and looked at his companions, some of the assurance beaten out of his big red face. Although the thing was one that they did habitually, to hear it called by its proper name was disconcerting.
“Whose land is this?” he asked, with diminishing assurance.
Andre–Louis answered, whilst drawing on his stockings. “I believe it to be the property of the Marquis de La Tour d’Azyr.”
“That’s a high-sounding name. Is the gentleman severe?”
“The gentleman,” said Andre–Louis, “is the devil; or rather, I should prefer to say upon reflection, that the devil is a gentleman by comparison.”
“And yet,” interposed the villainous-looking fellow who played Scaramouche, “by your own confessing you don’t hesitate, yourself, to trespass130 upon his property.”
“Ah, but then, you see, I am a lawyer. And lawyers are notoriously unable to observe the law, just as actors are notoriously unable to act. Moreover, sir, Nature imposes her limits upon us, and Nature conquers respect for law as she conquers all else. Nature conquered me last night when I had got as far as this. And so I slept here without regard for the very high and puissant132 Marquis de La Tour d’Azyr. At the same time, M. Scaramouche, you’ll observe that I did not flaunt133 my trespass quite as openly as you and your companions.”
Having donned his boots, Andre–Louis came nimbly to the ground in his shirt-sleeves, his riding-coat over his arm. As he stood there to don it, the little cunning eyes of the heavy father conned134 him in detail. Observing that his clothes, if plain, were of a good fashion, that his shirt was of fine cambric, and that he expressed himself like a man of culture, such as he claimed to be, M. Pantaloon was disposed to be civil.
“I am very grateful to you for the warning, sir . . . ” he was beginning.
“Act upon it, my friend. The gardes-champetres of M. d’Azyr have orders to fire on trespassers. Imitate me, and decamp.”
They followed him upon the instant through that gap in the hedge to the encampment on the common. There Andre–Louis took his leave of them. But as he was turning away he perceived a young man of the company performing his morning toilet at a bucket placed upon one of the wooden steps at the tail of the house on wheels. A moment he hesitated, then he turned frankly135 to M. Pantaloon, who was still at his elbow.
“If it were not unconscionable to encroach so far upon your hospitality, monsieur,” said he, “I would beg leave to imitate that very excellent young gentleman before I leave you.”
“But, my dear sir!” Good-nature oozed136 out of every pore of the fat body of the master player. “It is nothing at all. But, by all means. Rhodomont will provide what you require. He is the dandy of the company in real life, though a fire-eater on the stage. Hi, Rhodomont!”
The young ablutionist straightened his long body from the right angle in which it had been bent137 over the bucket, and looked out through a foam138 of soapsuds. Pantaloon issued an order, and Rhodomont, who was indeed as gentle and amiable139 off the stage as he was formidable and terrible upon it, made the stranger free of the bucket in the friendliest manner.
So Andre–Louis once more removed his neckcloth and his coat, and rolled up the sleeves of his fine shirt, whilst Rhodomont procured140 him soap, a towel, and presently a broken comb, and even a greasy141 hair-ribbon, in case the gentleman should have lost his own. This last Andre–Louis declined, but the comb he gratefully accepted, and having presently washed himself clean, stood, with the towel flung over his left shoulder, restoring order to his dishevelled locks before a broken piece of mirror affixed142 to the door of the travelling house.
He was standing thus, the gentle Rhodomont babbled143 aimlessly at his side, when his ears caught the sound of hooves. He looked over his shoulder carelessly, and then stood frozen, with uplifted comb and loosened mouth. Away across the common, on the road that bordered it, he beheld a party of seven horsemen in the blue coats with red facings of the marechaussee.
Not for a moment did he doubt what was the quarry144 of this prowling gendarmerie. It was as if the chill shadow of the gallows145 had fallen suddenly upon him.
And then the troop halted, abreast146 with them, and the sergeant147 leading it sent his bawling148 voice across the common.
“Hi, there! Hi!” His tone rang with menace.
Every member of the company — and there were some twelve in all — stood at gaze. Pantaloon advanced a step or two, stalking, his head thrown back, his manner that of a King’s Lieutenant.
“Now, what the devil’s this?” quoth he, but whether of Fate or Heaven or the sergeant, was not clear.
There was a brief colloquy149 among the horsemen, then they came trotting150 across the common straight towards the players’ encampment.
Andre–Louis had remained standing at the tail of the travelling house. He was still passing the comb through his straggling hair, but mechanically and unconsciously. His mind was all intent upon the advancing troop, his wits alert and gathered together for a leap in whatever direction should be indicated.
Still in the distance, but evidently impatient, the sergeant bawled151 a question.
“Who gave you leave to encamp here?”
It was a question that reassured152 Andre–Louis not at all. He was not deceived by it into supposing or even hoping that the business of these men was merely to round up vagrants153 and trespassers. That was no part of their real duty; it was something done in passing — done, perhaps, in the hope of levying154 a tax of their own. It was very long odds155 that they were from Rennes, and that their real business was the hunting down of a young lawyer charged with sedition156. Meanwhile Pantaloon was shouting back.
“Who gave us leave, do you say? What leave? This is communal157 land, free to all.”
The sergeant laughed unpleasantly, and came on, his troop following.
“There is,” said a voice at Pantaloon’s elbow, “no such thing as communal land in the proper sense in all M. de La Tour d’Azyr’s vast domain158. This is a terre censive, and his bailiffs collect his dues from all who send their beasts to graze here.”
Pantaloon turned to behold159 at his side Andre–Louis in his shirt-sleeves, and without a neckcloth, the towel still trailing over his left shoulder, a comb in his hand, his hair half dressed.
“God of God!” swore Pantaloon. “But it is an ogre, this Marquis de La Tour d’Azyr!”
“I have told you already what I think of him,” said Andre–Louis. “As for these fellows you had better let me deal with them. I have experience of their kind.” And without waiting for Pantaloon’s consent, Andre–Louis stepped forward to meet the advancing men of the marechaussee. He had realized that here boldness alone could save him.
When a moment later the sergeant pulled up his horse alongside of this half-dressed young man, Andre–Louis combed his hair what time he looked up with a half smile, intended to be friendly, ingenuous, and disarming160.
In spite of it the sergeant hailed him gruffly: “Are you the leader of this troop of vagabonds?”
“Yes . . . that is to say, my father, there, is really the leader.” And he jerked a thumb in the direction of M. Pantaloon, who stood at gaze out of earshot in the background. “What is your pleasure, captain?”
“My pleasure is to tell you that you are very likely to be gaoled162 for this, all the pack of you.” His voice was loud and bullying163. It carried across the common to the ears of every member of the company, and brought them all to stricken attention where they stood. The lot of strolling players was hard enough without the addition of gaolings.
“But how so, my captain? This is communal land free to all.”
“It is nothing of the kind.”
“Where are the fences?” quoth Andre–Louis, waving the hand that held the comb, as if to indicate the openness of the place.
“Fences!” snorted the sergeant. “What have fences to do with the matter? This is terre censive. There is no grazing here save by payment of dues to the Marquis de La Tour d’Azyr.”
“But we are not grazing,” quoth the innocent Andre–Louis.
“To the devil with you, zany! You are not grazing! But your beasts are grazing!”
“They eat so little,” Andre–Louis apologized, and again essayed his ingratiating smile.
The sergeant grew more terrible than ever. “That is not the point. The point is that you are committing what amounts to a theft, and there’s the gaol161 for thieves.”
“Technically, I suppose you are right,” sighed Andre–Louis, and fell to combing his hair again, still looking up into the sergeant’s face. “But we have sinned in ignorance. We are grateful to you for the warning.” He passed the comb into his left hand, and with his right fumbled164 in his breeches’ pocket, whence there came a faint jingle165 of coins. “We are desolated166 to have brought you out of your way. Perhaps for their trouble your men would honour us by stopping at the next inn to drink the health of . . . of this M. de La Tour d’ Azyr, or any other health that they think proper.”
Some of the clouds lifted from the sergeant’s brow. But not yet all.
“Well, well,” said he, gruffly. “But you must decamp, you understand.” He leaned from the saddle to bring his recipient167 hand to a convenient distance. Andre–Louis placed in it a three-livre piece.
“In half an hour,” said Andre–Louis.
“Why in half an hour? Why not at once?”
“Oh, but time to break our fast.”
They looked at each other. The sergeant next considered the broad piece of silver in his palm. Then at last his features relaxed from their sternness.
“After all,” said he, “it is none of our business to play the tipstaves for M. de La Tour d’Azyr. We are of the marechaussee from Rennes.” Andre–Louis’ eyelids168 played him false by flickering169. “But if you linger, look out for the gardes-champetres of the Marquis. You’ll find them not at all accommodating. Well, well — a good appetite to you, monsieur,” said he, in valediction170.
“A pleasant ride, my captain,” answered Andre–Louis.
The sergeant wheeled his horse about, his troop wheeled with him. They were starting off, when he reined171 up again.
“You, monsieur!” he called over his shoulder. In a bound Andre–Louis was beside his stirrup. “We are in quest of a scoundrel named Andre–Louis Moreau, from Gavrillac, a fugitive172 from justice wanted for the gallows on a matter of sedition. You’ve seen nothing, I suppose, of a man whose movements seemed to you suspicious?”
“Indeed, we have,” said Andre–Louis, very boldly, his face eager with consciousness of the ability to oblige.
“You have?” cried the sergeant, in a ringing voice. “Where? When?”
“Yesterday evening in the neighbourhood of Guignen . . . ”
“Yes, yes,” the sergeant felt himself hot upon the trail.
“There was a fellow who seemed very fearful of being recognized . . . a man of fifty or thereabouts . . . ”
“Fifty!” cried the sergeant, and his face fell. “Bah! This man of ours is no older than yourself, a thin wisp of a fellow of about your own height and of black hair, just like your own, by the description. Keep a lookout173 on your travels, master player. The King’s Lieutenant in Rennes has sent us word this morning that he will pay ten louis to any one giving information that will lead to this scoundrel’s arrest. So there’s ten louis to be earned by keeping your eyes open, and sending word to the nearest justices. It would be a fine windfall for you, that.”
“A fine windfall, indeed, captain,” answered Andre–Louis, laughing.
But the sergeant had touched his horse with the spur, and was already trotting off in the wake of his men. Andre–Louis continued to laugh, quite silently, as he sometimes did when the humour of a jest was peculiarly keen.
Then he turned slowly about, and came back towards Pantaloon and the rest of the company, who were now all grouped together, at gaze.
Pantaloon advanced to meet him with both hands out-held. For a moment Andre–Louis thought he was about to be embraced.
“We hail you our saviour174!” the big man declaimed. “Already the shadow of the gaol was creeping over us, chilling us to the very marrow175. For though we be poor, yet are we all honest folk and not one of us has ever suffered the indignity176 of prison. Nor is there one of us would survive it. But for you, my friend, it might have happened. What magic did you work?”
“The magic that is to be worked in France with a King’s portrait. The French are a very loyal nation, as you will have observed. They love their King — and his portrait even better than himself, especially when it is wrought177 in gold. But even in silver it is respected. The sergeant was so overcome by the sight of that noble visage — on a three-livre piece — that his anger vanished, and he has gone his ways leaving us to depart in peace.”
“Ah, true! He said we must decamp. About it, my lads! Come, come . . . ”
“But not until after breakfast,” said Andre–Louis. “A half-hour for breakfast was conceded us by that loyal fellow, so deeply was he touched. True, he spoke84 of possible gardes-champetres. But he knows as well as I do that they are not seriously to be feared, and that if they came, again the King’s portrait — wrought in copper178 this time — would produce the same melting effect upon them. So, my dear M. Pantaloon, break your fast at your ease. I can smell your cooking from here, and from the smell I argue that there is no need to wish you a good appetite.”
“My friend, my saviour!” Pantaloon flung a great arm about the young man’s shoulders. “You shall stay to breakfast with us.”
“I confess to a hope that you would ask me,” said Andre–Louis.
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plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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recurs
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| 再发生，复发( recur的第三人称单数 ) | |
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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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9
sketchy
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| adj.写生的，写生风格的，概略的 | |
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10
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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11
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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12
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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13
justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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14
beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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15
besetting
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| adj.不断攻击的v.困扰( beset的现在分词 )；不断围攻；镶；嵌 | |
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16
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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17
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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18
lackey
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| n.侍从；跟班 | |
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19
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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20
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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21
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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22
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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23
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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24
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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25
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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26
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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27
infringing
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| v.违反（规章等）( infringe的现在分词 )；侵犯（某人的权利）；侵害（某人的自由、权益等） | |
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28
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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29
mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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30
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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31
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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32
footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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33
interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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34
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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35
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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36
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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37
subconsciousness
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| 潜意识；下意识 | |
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38
densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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40
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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41
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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42
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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43
luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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44
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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45
nascent
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| adj.初生的，发生中的 | |
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46
bode
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| v.预示 | |
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47
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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48
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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49
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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50
reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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51
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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52
comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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53
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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54
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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55
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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56
ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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57
starch
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| n.淀粉；vt.给...上浆 | |
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58
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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59
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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60
buckles
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| 搭扣，扣环( buckle的名词复数 ) | |
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61
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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62
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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63
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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64
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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65
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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66
prodigiously
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| adv.异常地，惊人地，巨大地 | |
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67
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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68
allurement
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| n.诱惑物 | |
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69
allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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70
vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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71
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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72
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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73
hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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74
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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75
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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76
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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77
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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78
petal
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| n.花瓣 | |
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79
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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80
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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81
stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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82
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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83
loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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84
spoke
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| 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 | |
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85
stilted
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| adj.虚饰的；夸张的 | |
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86
pedantic
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| adj.卖弄学问的；迂腐的 | |
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87
observatory
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| n.天文台，气象台，瞭望台，观测台 | |
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88
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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89
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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90
antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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91
tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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92
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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93
puny
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| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
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94
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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95
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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96
doffed
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| v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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98
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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99
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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100
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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101
viler
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| adj.卑鄙的( vile的比较级 )；可耻的；极坏的；非常讨厌的 | |
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102
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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103
strutted
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| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
conspirator
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| n.阴谋者，谋叛者 | |
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105
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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106
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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107
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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108
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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109
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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110
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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111
fatuity
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| n.愚蠢，愚昧 | |
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112
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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114
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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115
extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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116
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
bourgeois
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| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
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118
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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119
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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120
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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121
pealing
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的现在分词 ) | |
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122
sarcasms
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，挖苦( sarcasm的名词复数 ) | |
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123
habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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124
protrusion
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| n.伸出，突出 | |
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125
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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126
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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127
loutish
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| adj.粗鲁的 | |
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128
apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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129
bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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130
trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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131
trespassing
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| [法]非法入侵 | |
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132
puissant
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| adj.强有力的 | |
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133
flaunt
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| vt.夸耀，夸饰 | |
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134
conned
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| adj.被骗了v.指挥操舵( conn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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136
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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137
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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138
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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139
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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140
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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141
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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142
affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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143
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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144
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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145
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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146
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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147
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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148
bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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149
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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150
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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151
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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152
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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153
vagrants
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| 流浪者( vagrant的名词复数 )； 无业游民； 乞丐； 无赖 | |
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154
levying
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| 征（兵）( levy的现在分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
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155
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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156
sedition
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| n.煽动叛乱 | |
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157
communal
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| adj.公有的，公共的，公社的，公社制的 | |
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158
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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159
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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160
disarming
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| adj.消除敌意的，使人消气的v.裁军( disarm的现在分词 )；使息怒 | |
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161
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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162
gaoled
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| 监禁( gaol的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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163
bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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164
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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165
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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166
desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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167
recipient
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| a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
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168
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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169
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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170
valediction
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| n．告别演说，告别词 | |
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171
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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172
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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173
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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174
saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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175
marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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176
indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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177
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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178
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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