The Chevalier de Chabrillane — who in reality occupied towards the Marquis a position akin3 to that of gentleman-in-waiting — sat opposite to him in the enormous travelling berline. A small folding table had been erected8 between them, and the Chevalier suggested piquet. But M. le Marquis was in no humour for cards. His thoughts absorbed him. As they were rattling9 over the cobbles of Nantes’ streets, he remembered a promise to La Binet to witness her performance that night in “The Faithless Lover.” And now he was running away from her. The thought was repugnant to him on two scores. He was breaking his pledged word, and he was acting10 like a coward. And there was more than that. He had led the mercenary little strumpet — it was thus he thought of her at present, and with some justice — to expect favours from him in addition to the lavish11 awards which already he had made her. The baggage had almost sought to drive a bargain with him as to her future. He was to take her to Paris, put her into her own furniture — as the expression ran, and still runs — and under the shadow of his powerful protection see that the doors of the great theatres of the capital should be opened to her talents. He had not — he was thankful to reflect — exactly committed himself. But neither had he definitely refused her. It became necessary now to come to an understanding, since he was compelled to choose between his trivial passion for her — a passion quenched13 already — and his deep, almost spiritual devotion to Mademoiselle de Kercadiou.
His honour, he considered, demanded of him that he should at once deliver himself from a false position. La Binet would make a scene, of course; but he knew the proper specific to apply to hysteria of that nature. Money, after all, has its uses.
He pulled the cord. The carriage rolled to a standstill; a footman appeared at the door.
“To the Theatre Feydau,” said he.
The footman vanished and the berline rolled on. M. de Chabrillane laughed cynically14.
“I’ll trouble you not to be amused,” snapped the Marquis. “You don’t understand.” Thereafter he explained himself. It was a rare condescension15 in him. But, then, he could not bear to be misunderstood in such a matter. Chabrillane grew serious in reflection of the Marquis’ extreme seriousness.
“Why not write?” he suggested. “Myself, I confess that I should find it easier.”
Nothing could better have revealed M. le Marquis’ state of mind than his answer.
“Letters are liable both to miscarriage16 and to misconstruction. Two risks I will not run. If she did not answer, I should never know which had been incurred17. And I shall have no peace of mind until I know that I have set a term to this affair. The berline can wait while we are at the theatre. We will go on afterwards. We will travel all night if necessary.”
“Peste!” said M. de Chabrillane with a grimace18. But that was all.
The great travelling carriage drew up at the lighted portals of the Feydau, and M. le Marquis stepped out. He entered the theatre with Chabrillane, all unconsciously to deliver himself into the hands of Andre–Louis.
Andre–Louis was in a state of exasperation19 produced by Climene’s long absence from Nantes in the company of M. le Marquis, and fed by the unspeakable complacency with which M. Binet regarded that event of quite unmistakable import.
However much he might affect the frame of mind of the stoics20, and seek to judge with a complete detachment, in the heart and soul of him Andre–Louis was tormented21 and revolted. It was not Climene he blamed. He had been mistaken in her. She was just a poor weak vessel22 driven helplessly by the first breath, however foul23, that promised her advancement24. She suffered from the plague of greed; and he congratulated himself upon having discovered it before making her his wife. He felt for her now nothing but a deal of pity and some contempt. The pity was begotten25 of the love she had lately inspired in him. It might be likened to the dregs of love, all that remained after the potent1 wine of it had been drained off. His anger he reserved for her father and her seducer26.
The thoughts that were stirring in him on that Monday morning, when it was discovered that Climene had not yet returned from her excursion of the previous day in the coach of M. le Marquis, were already wicked enough without the spurring they received from the distraught Leandre.
Hitherto the attitude of each of these men towards the other had been one of mutual27 contempt. The phenomenon has frequently been observed in like cases. Now, what appeared to be a common misfortune brought them into a sort of alliance. So, at least, it seemed to Leandre when he went in quest of Andre–Louis, who with apparent unconcern was smoking a pipe upon the quay28 immediately facing the inn.
“Name of a pig!” said Leandre. “How can you take your ease and smoke at such a time?”
Scaramouche surveyed the sky. “I do not find it too cold,” said he. “The sun is shining. I am very well here.”
“Do I talk of the weather?” Leandre was very excited.
“Of what, then?”
“Of Climene, of course.”
“Oh! The lady has ceased to interest me,” he lied.
Leandre stood squarely in front of him, a handsome figure handsomely dressed in these days, his hair well powdered, his stockings of silk. His face was pale, his large eyes looked larger than usual.
“Ceased to interest you? Are you not to marry her?”
Andre–Louis expelled a cloud of smoke. “You cannot wish to be offensive. Yet you almost suggest that I live on other men’s leavings.”
“My God!” said Leandre, overcome, and he stared awhile. Then he burst out afresh. “Are you quite heartless? Are you always Scaramouche?”
“What do you expect me to do?” asked Andre–Louis, evincing surprise in his own turn, but faintly.
“I do not expect you to let her go without a struggle.”
“But she has gone already.” Andre–Louis pulled at his pipe a moment, what time Leandre clenched29 and unclenched his hands in impotent rage. “And to what purpose struggle against the inevitable? Did you struggle when I took her from you?”
“She was not mine to be taken from me. I but aspired30, and you won the race. But even had it been otherwise where is the comparison? That was a thing in honour; this — this is hell.”
His emotion moved Andre–Louis. He took Leandre’s arm. “You’re a good fellow, Leandre. I am glad I intervened to save you from your fate.”
“Oh, you don’t love her!” cried the other, passionately31. “You never did. You don’t know what it means to love, or you’d not talk like this. My God! if she had been my affianced wife and this had happened, I should have killed the man — killed him! Do you hear me? But you . . . Oh, you, you come out here and smoke, and take the air, and talk of her as another man’s leavings. I wonder I didn’t strike you for the word.”
He tore his arm from the other’s grip, and looked almost as if he would strike him now.
“You should have done it,” said Andre–Louis. “It’s in your part.”
With an imprecation Leandre turned on his heel to go. Andre–Louis arrested his departure.
“A moment, my friend. Test me by yourself. Would you marry her now?”
“Would I?” The young man’s eyes blazed with passion. “Would I? Let her say that she will marry me, and I am her slave.”
“Slave is the right word — a slave in hell.”
“It would never be hell to me where she was, whatever she had done. I love her, man, I am not like you. I love her, do you hear me?”
“I have known it for some time,” said Andre–Louis. “Though I didn’t suspect your attack of the disease to be quite so violent. Well, God knows I loved her, too, quite enough to share your thirst for killing32. For myself, the blue blood of La Tour d’Azyr would hardly quench12 this thirst. I should like to add to it the dirty fluid that flows in the veins33 of the unspeakable Binet.”
For a second his emotion had been out of hand, and he revealed to Leandre in the mordant34 tone of those last words something of the fires that burned under his icy exterior35. The young man caught him by the hand.
“I knew you were acting,” said he. “You feel — you feel as I do.”
“Behold us, fellows in viciousness. I have betrayed myself, it seems. Well, and what now? Do you want to see this pretty Marquis torn limb from limb? I might afford you the spectacle.”
“What?” Leandre stared, wondering was this another of Scaramouche’s cynicisms.
“It isn’t really difficult provided I have aid. I require only a little. Will you lend it me?”
“Anything you ask,” Leandre exploded. “My life if you require it.”
Andre–Louis took his arm again. “Let us walk,” he said. “I will instruct you.”
When they came back the company was already at dinner. Mademoiselle had not yet returned. Sullenness36 presided at the table. Columbine and Madame wore anxious expressions. The fact was that relations between Binet and his troupe37 were daily growing more strained.
Andre–Louis and Leandre went each to his accustomed place. Binet’s little eyes followed them with a malicious38 gleam, his thick lips pouted39 into a crooked40 smile.
“You two are grown very friendly of a sudden,” he mocked.
“You are a man of discernment, Binet,” said Scaramouche, the cold loathing41 of his voice itself an insult. “Perhaps you discern the reason?”
“It is readily discerned.”
“Regale the company with it!” he begged; and waited. “What? You hesitate? Is it possible that there are limits to your shamelessness?”
Binet reared his great head. “Do you want to quarrel with me, Scaramouche?” Thunder was rumbling42 in his deep voice.
“Quarrel? You want to laugh. A man doesn’t quarrel with creatures like you. We all know the place held in the public esteem43 by complacent44 husbands. But, in God’s name, what place is there at all for complacent fathers?”
Binet heaved himself up, a great towering mass of manhood. Violently he shook off the restraining hand of Pierrot who sat on his left.
“A thousand devils!” he roared; “if you take that tone with me, I’ll break every bone in your filthy45 body.”
“If you were to lay a finger on me, Binet, you would give me the only provocation46 I still need to kill you.” Andre–Louis was as calm as ever, and therefore the more menacing. Alarm stirred the company. He protruded47 from his pocket the butt48 of a pistol — newly purchased. “I go armed, Binet. It is only fair to give you warning. Provoke me as you have suggested, and I’ll kill you with no more compunction than I should kill a slug, which after all is the thing you most resemble — a slug, Binet; a fat, slimy body; foulness49 without soul and without intelligence. When I come to think of it I can’t suffer to sit at table with you. It turns my stomach.”
He pushed away his platter and got up. “I’ll go and eat at the ordinary below stairs.”
Thereupon up jumped Columbine.
“And I’ll come with you, Scaramouche!” cried she.
It acted like a signal. Had the thing been concerted it couldn’t have fallen out more uniformly. Binet, in fact, was persuaded of a conspiracy50. For in the wake of Columbine went Leandre, in the wake of Leandre, Polichinelle and then all the rest together, until Binet found himself sitting alone at the head of an empty table in an empty room — a badly shaken man whose rage could afford him no support against the dread51 by which he was suddenly invaded.
He sat down to think things out, and he was still at that melancholy52 occupation when perhaps a half-hour later his daughter entered the room, returned at last from her excursion.
She looked pale, even a little scared — in reality excessively self-conscious now that the ordeal53 of facing all the company awaited her.
Seeing no one but her father in the room, she checked on the threshold.
“Where is everybody?” she asked, in a voice rendered natural by effort.
M. Binet reared his great head and turned upon her eyes that were blood-injected. He scowled54, blew out his thick lips and made harsh noises in his throat. Yet he took stock of her, so graceful55 and comely56 and looking so completely the lady of fashion in her long fur-trimmed travelling coat of bottle green, her muff and her broad hat adorned57 by a sparkling Rhinestone58 buckle59 above her adorably coiffed brown hair. No need to fear the future whilst he owned such a daughter, let Scaramouche play what tricks he would.
He expressed, however, none of these comforting reflections.
“So you’re back at last, little fool,” he growled60 in greeting. “I was beginning to ask myself if we should perform this evening. It wouldn’t greatly have surprised me if you had not returned in time. Indeed, since you have chosen to play the fine hand you held in your own way and scorning my advice, nothing can surprise me.”
She crossed the room to the table, and leaning against it, looked down upon him almost disdainfully.
“I have nothing to regret,” she said.
“So every fool says at first. Nor would you admit it if you had. You are like that. You go your own way in spite of advice from older heads. Death of my life, girl, what do you know of men?”
“I am not complaining,” she reminded him.
“No, but you may be presently, when you discover that you would have done better to have been guided by your old father. So long as your Marquis languished61 for you, there was nothing you could not have done with the fool. So long as you let him have no more than your fingertips to kiss . . . ah, name of a name! that was the time to build your future. If you live to be a thousand you’ll never have such a chance again, and you’ve squandered62 it, for what?”
Mademoiselle sat down. —“You’re sordid,” she said, with disgust.
“Sordid, am I?” His thick lips curled again. “I have had enough of the dregs of life, and so I should have thought have you. You held a hand on which to have won a fortune if you had played it as I bade you. Well, you’ve played it, and where’s the fortune? We can whistle for that as a sailor whistles for wind. And, by Heaven, we’ll need to whistle presently if the weather in the troupe continues as it’s set in. That scoundrel Scaramouche has been at his ape’s tricks with them. They’ve suddenly turned moral. They won’t sit at table with me any more.” He was spluttering between anger and sardonic63 mirth. “It was your friend Scaramouche set them the example of that. He threatened my life actually. Threatened my life! Called me . . . Oh, but what does that matter? What matters is that the next thing to happen to us will be that the Binet Troupe will discover it can manage without M. Binet and his daughter. This scoundrelly bastard64 I’ve befriended has little by little robbed me of everything. It’s in his power to-day to rob me of my troupe, and the knave65’s ungrateful enough and vile66 enough to make use of his power.
“Let him,” said mademoiselle contemptuously.
“Let him?” He was aghast. “And what’s to become of us?”
“In no case will the Binet Troupe interest me much longer,” said she. “I shall be going to Paris soon. There are better theatres there than the Feydau. There’s Mlle. Montansier’s theatre in the Palais Royal; there’s the Ambigu Comique; there’s the Comedie Francaise; there’s even a possibility I may have a theatre of my own.”
His eyes grew big for once. He stretched out a fat hand, and placed it on one of hers. She noticed that it trembled.
“Has he promised that? Has he promised?”
She looked at him with her head on one side, eyes sly and a queer little smile on her perfect lips.
“He did not refuse me when I asked it,” she answered, with conviction that all was as she desired it.
“Bah!” He withdrew his hand, and heaved himself up. There was disgust on his face. “He did not refuse!” he mocked her; and then with passion: “Had you acted as I advised you, he would have consented to anything that you asked, and what is more he would have provided anything that you asked — anything that lay within his means, and they are inexhaustible. You have changed a certainty into a possibility, and I hate possibilities — God of God! I have lived on possibilities, and infernally near starved on them.”
Had she known of the interview taking place at that moment at the Chateau67 de Sautron she would have laughed less confidently at her father’s gloomy forebodings. But she was destined68 never to know, which indeed was the cruellest punishment of all. She was to attribute all the evil that of a sudden overwhelmed her, the shattering of all the future hopes she had founded upon the Marquis and the sudden disintegration69 of the Binet Troupe, to the wicked interference of that villain70 Scaramouche.
She had this much justification71 that possibly, without the warning from M. de Sautron, the Marquis would have found in the events of that evening at the Theatre Feydau a sufficient reason for ending an entanglement72 that was fraught73 with too much unpleasant excitement, whilst the breaking-up of the Binet Troupe was most certainly the result of Andre–Louis’ work. But it was not a result that he intended or even foresaw.
So much was this the case that in the interval74 after the second act, he sought the dressing-room shared by Polichinelle and Rhodomont. Polichinelle was in the act of changing.
“I shouldn’t trouble to change,” he said. “The piece isn’t likely to go beyond my opening scene of the next act with Leandre.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.” He put a paper on Polichinelle’s table amid the grease-paints. “Cast your eye over that. It’s a sort of last will and testament75 in favour of the troupe. I was a lawyer once; the document is in order. I relinquish76 to all of you the share produced by my partnership77 in the company.”
“But you don’t mean that you are leaving us?” cried Polichinelle in alarm, whilst Rhodomont’s sudden stare asked the same question.
Scaramouche’s shrug78 was eloquent79. Polichinelle ran on gloomily: “Of course it was to have been foreseen. But why should you be the one to go? It is you who have made us; and it is you who are the real head and brains of the troupe; it is you who have raised it into a real theatrical80 company. If any one must go, let it be Binet — Binet and his infernal daughter. Or if you go, name of a name! we all go with you!”
“Aye,” added Rhodomont, “we’ve had enough of that fat scoundrel.”
“I had thought of it, of course,” said Andre–Louis. “It was not vanity, for once; it was trust in your friendship. After to-night we may consider it again, if I survive.”
“If you survive?” both cried.
Polichinelle got up. “Now, what madness have you in mind?” he asked.
“For one thing I think I am indulging Leandre; for another I am pursuing an old quarrel.”
The three knocks sounded as he spoke81.
“There, I must go. Keep that paper, Polichinelle. After all, it may not be necessary.”
He was gone. Rhodomont stared at Polichinelle. Polichinelle stared at Rhodomont.
“What the devil is he thinking of?” quoth the latter.
“That is most readily ascertained82 by going to see,” replied Polichinelle. He completed changing in haste, and despite what Scaramouche had said; and then followed with Rhodomont.
As they approached the wings a roar of applause met them coming from the audience. It was applause and something else; applause on an unusual note. As it faded away they heard the voice of Scaramouche ringing clear as a bell:
“And so you see, my dear M. Leandre, that when you speak of the Third Estate, it is necessary to be more explicit83. What precisely84 is the Third Estate?”
“Nothing,” said Leandre.
There was a gasp85 from the audience, audible in the wings, and then swiftly followed Scaramouche’s next question:
“True. Alas86! But what should it be?”
“Everything,” said Leandre.
The audience roared its acclamations, the more violent because of the unexpectedness of that reply.
“True again,” said Scaramouche. “And what is more, that is what it will be; that is what it already is. Do you doubt it?”
“I hope it,” said the schooled Leandre.
“You may believe it,” said Scaramouche, and again the acclamations rolled into thunder.
Polichinelle and Rhodomont exchanged glances: indeed, the former winked87, not without mirth.
“Sacred name!” growled a voice behind them. “Is the scoundrel at his political tricks again?”
They turned to confront M. Binet. Moving with that noiseless tread of his, he had come up unheard behind them, and there he stood now in his scarlet88 suit of Pantaloon under a trailing bedgown, his little eyes glaring from either side of his false nose. But their attention was held by the voice of Scaramouche. He had stepped to the front of the stage.
“He doubts it,” he was telling the audience. “But then this M. Leandre is himself akin to those who worship the worm-eaten idol89 of Privilege, and so he is a little afraid to believe a truth that is becoming apparent to all the world. Shall I convince him? Shall I tell him how a company of noblemen backed by their servants under arms — six hundred men in all — sought to dictate90 to the Third Estate of Rennes a few short weeks ago? Must I remind him of the martial91 front shown on that occasion by the Third Estate, and how they swept the streets clean of that rabble92 of nobles — cette canaille noble . . . ”
Applause interrupted him. The phrase had struck home and caught. Those who had writhed93 under that infamous94 designation from their betters leapt at this turning of it against the nobles themselves.
“But let me tell you of their leader — le pins noble de cette canaille, ou bien le plus canaille de ces nobles! You know him — that one. He fears many things, but the voice of truth he fears most. With such as him the eloquent truth eloquently95 spoken is a thing instantly to be silenced. So he marshalled his peers and their valetailles, and led them out to slaughter96 these miserable97 bourgeois98 who dared to raise a voice. But these same miserable bourgeois did not choose to be slaughtered99 in the streets of Rennes. It occurred to them that since the nobles decreed that blood should flow, it might as well be the blood of the nobles. They marshalled themselves too — this noble rabble against the rabble of nobles — and they marshalled themselves so well that they drove M. de La Tour d’Azyr and his warlike following from the field with broken heads and shattered delusions100. They sought shelter at the hands of the Cordeliers; and the shavelings gave them sanctuary101 in their convent — those who survived, among whom was their proud leader, M. de La Tour d’Azyr. You have heard of this valiant102 Marquis, this great lord of life and death?”
The pit was in an uproar103 a moment. It quieted again as Scaramouche continued:
“Oh, it was a fine spectacle to see this mighty104 hunter scuttling105 to cover like a hare, going to earth in the Cordelier Convent. Rennes has not seen him since. Rennes would like to see him again. But if he is valorous, he is also discreet106. And where do you think he has taken refuge, this great nobleman who wanted to see the streets of Rennes washed in the blood of its citizens, this man who would have butchered old and young of the contemptible107 canaille to silence the voice of reason and of liberty that presumes to ring through France to-day? Where do you think he hides himself? Why, here in Nantes.”
Again there was uproar.
“What do you say? Impossible? Why, my friends, at this moment he is here in this theatre — skulking108 up there in that box. He is too shy to show himself — oh, a very modest gentleman. But there he is behind the curtains. Will you not show yourself to your friends, M. de La Tour d’Azyr, Monsieur le Marquis who considers eloquence109 so very dangerous a gift? See, they would like a word with you; they do not believe me when I tell them that you are here.”
Now, whatever he may have been, and whatever the views held on the subject by Andre–Louis, M. de La Tour d’Azyr was certainly not a coward. To say that he was hiding in Nantes was not true. He came and went there openly and unabashed. It happened, however, that the Nantais were ignorant until this moment of his presence among them. But then he would have disdained110 to have informed them of it just as he would have disdained to have concealed111 it from them.
Challenged thus, however, and despite the ominous112 manner in which the bourgeois element in the audience had responded to Scaramouche’s appeal to its passions, despite the attempts made by Chabrillane to restrain him, the Marquis swept aside the curtain at the side of the box, and suddenly showed himself, pale but self-contained and scornful as he surveyed first the daring Scaramouche and then those others who at sight of him had given tongue to their hostility113.
Hoots114 and yells assailed115 him, fists were shaken at him, canes117 were brandished118 menacingly.
“Assassin! Scoundrel! Coward! Traitor119!”
But he braved the storm, smiling upon them his ineffable120 contempt. He was waiting for the noise to cease; waiting to address them in his turn. But he waited in vain, as he very soon perceived.
The contempt he did not trouble to dissemble served but to goad121 them on.
In the pit pandemonium122 was already raging. Blows were being freely exchanged; there were scuffling groups, and here and there swords were being drawn123, but fortunately the press was too dense124 to permit of their being used effectively. Those who had women with them and the timid by nature were making haste to leave a house that looked like becoming a cockpit, where chairs were being smashed to provide weapons, and parts of chandeliers were already being used as missiles.
One of these hurled125 by the hand of a gentleman in one of the boxes narrowly missed Scaramouche where he stood, looking down in a sort of grim triumph upon the havoc126 which his words had wrought127. Knowing of what inflammable material the audience was composed, he had deliberately128 flung down amongst them the lighted torch of discord129, to produce this conflagration130.
He saw men falling quickly into groups representative of one side or the other of this great quarrel that already was beginning to agitate131 the whole of France. Their rallying cries were ringing through the theatre.
“Down with the canaille!” from some.
“Down with the privileged!” from others.
And then above the general din7 one cry rang out sharply and insistently132:
“To the box! Death to the butcher of Rennes! Death to La Tour d’Azyr who makes war upon the people!”
There was a rush for one of the doors of the pit that opened upon the staircase leading to the boxes.
And now, whilst battle and confusion spread with the speed of fire, overflowing133 from the theatre into the street itself, La Tour d’Azyr’s box, which had become the main object of the attack of the bourgeoisie, had also become the rallying ground for such gentlemen as were present in the theatre and for those who, without being men of birth themselves, were nevertheless attached to the party of the nobles.
La Tour d’Azyr had quitted the front of the box to meet those who came to join him. And now in the pit one group of infuriated gentlemen, in attempting to reach the stage across the empty orchestra, so that they might deal with the audacious comedian134 who was responsible for this explosion, found themselves opposed and held back by another group composed of men to whose feelings Andre–Louis had given expression.
Perceiving this, and remembering the chandelier, he turned to Leandre, who had remained beside him.
“I think it is time to be going,” said he.
Leandre, looking ghastly under his paint, appalled135 by the storm which exceeded by far anything that his unimaginative brain could have conjectured136, gurgled an inarticulate agreement. But it looked as if already they were too late, for in that moment they were assailed from behind.
M. Binet had succeeded at last in breaking past Polichinelle and Rhodomont, who in view of his murderous rage had been endeavouring to restrain him. Half a dozen gentlemen, habitues of the green-room, had come round to the stage to disembowel the knave who had created this riot, and it was they who had flung aside those two comedians137 who hung upon Binet. After him they came now, their swords out; but after them again came Polichinelle, Rhodomont, Harlequin, Pierrot, Pasquariel, and Basque the artist, armed with such implements138 as they could hastily snatch up, and intent upon saving the man with whom they sympathized in spite of all, and in whom now all their hopes were centred.
Well ahead rolled Binet, moving faster than any had ever seen him move, and swinging the long cane116 from which Pantaloon is inseparable.
“Infamous scoundrel!” he roared. “You have ruined me! But, name of a name, you shall pay!”
Andre–Louis turned to face him. “You confuse cause with effect,” said he. But he got no farther . . . Binet’s cane, viciously driven, descended139 and broke upon his shoulder. Had he not moved swiftly aside as the blow fell it must have taken him across the head, and possibly stunned140 him. As he moved, he dropped his hand to his pocket, and swift upon the cracking of Binet’s breaking cane came the crack of the pistol with which Andre–Louis replied.
“You had your warning, you filthy pander141!” he cried. And on the word he shot him through the body.
Binet went down screaming, whilst the fierce Polichinelle, fiercer than ever in that moment of fierce reality, spoke quickly into Andre–Louis’ ear:
“Fool! So much was not necessary! Away with you now, or you’ll leave your skin here! Away with you!”
Andre–Louis thought it good advice, and took it. The gentlemen who had followed Binet in that punitive142 rush upon the stage, partly held in check by the improvised143 weapons of the players, partly intimidated144 by the second pistol that Scaramouche presented, let him go. He gained the wings, and here found himself faced by a couple of sergeants145 of the watch, part of the police that was already invading the theatre with a view to restoring order. The sight of them reminded him unpleasantly of how he must stand towards the law for this night’s work, and more particularly for that bullet lodged146 somewhere in Binet’s obese147 body. He flourished his pistol.
“Make way, or I’ll burn your brains!” he threatened them, and intimidated, themselves without firearms, they fell back and let him pass. He slipped by the door of the green-room, where the ladies of the company had shut themselves in until the storm should be over, and so gained the street behind the theatre. It was deserted148. Down this he went at a run, intent on reaching the inn for clothes and money, since it was impossible that he should take the road in the garb149 of Scaramouche.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
potent
|
|
| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
contrition
|
|
| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
akin
|
|
| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
nausea
|
|
| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
marvelling
|
|
| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
din
|
|
| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ERECTED
|
|
| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
rattling
|
|
| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
lavish
|
|
| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
quench
|
|
| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
quenched
|
|
| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
cynically
|
|
| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
condescension
|
|
| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
miscarriage
|
|
| n.失败，未达到预期的结果；流产 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
incurred
|
|
| [医]招致的，遭受的； incur的过去式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
grimace
|
|
| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
exasperation
|
|
| n.愤慨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
stoics
|
|
| 禁欲主义者，恬淡寡欲的人，不以苦乐为意的人( stoic的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
tormented
|
|
| 饱受折磨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
advancement
|
|
| n.前进，促进，提升 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
begotten
|
|
| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
seducer
|
|
| n.诱惑者,骗子,玩弄女性的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
quay
|
|
| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
aspired
|
|
| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
killing
|
|
| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
mordant
|
|
| adj.讽刺的；尖酸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
exterior
|
|
| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
sullenness
|
|
| n. 愠怒, 沉闷, 情绪消沉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
troupe
|
|
| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
malicious
|
|
| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
pouted
|
|
| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
crooked
|
|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
loathing
|
|
| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
rumbling
|
|
| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
esteem
|
|
| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
complacent
|
|
| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
filthy
|
|
| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
provocation
|
|
| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
protruded
|
|
| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
butt
|
|
| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
foulness
|
|
| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
conspiracy
|
|
| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
ordeal
|
|
| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
scowled
|
|
| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
comely
|
|
| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
rhinestone
|
|
| n.水晶石，莱茵石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
buckle
|
|
| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
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： |
|
|
|
|
61
languished
|
|
| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
squandered
|
|
| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
sardonic
|
|
| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
bastard
|
|
| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
knave
|
|
| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
chateau
|
|
| n.城堡，别墅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
disintegration
|
|
| n.分散，解体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
villain
|
|
| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
justification
|
|
| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
entanglement
|
|
| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
fraught
|
|
| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
testament
|
|
| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
relinquish
|
|
| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
partnership
|
|
| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
shrug
|
|
| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
eloquent
|
|
| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
theatrical
|
|
| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
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： |
|
|
|
|
82
ascertained
|
|
| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
explicit
|
|
| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
winked
|
|
| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
idol
|
|
| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
dictate
|
|
| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
martial
|
|
| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
rabble
|
|
| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
writhed
|
|
| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
infamous
|
|
| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
eloquently
|
|
| adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
slaughter
|
|
| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
bourgeois
|
|
| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
slaughtered
|
|
| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
delusions
|
|
| n.欺骗( delusion的名词复数 )；谬见；错觉；妄想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
sanctuary
|
|
| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
valiant
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
uproar
|
|
| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
scuttling
|
|
| n.船底穿孔，打开通海阀（沉船用）v.使船沉没( scuttle的现在分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
discreet
|
|
| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
contemptible
|
|
| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
skulking
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
disdained
|
|
| 鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
hostility
|
|
| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
hoots
|
|
| 咄，啐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
assailed
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
cane
|
|
| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
canes
|
|
| n.（某些植物，如竹或甘蔗的）茎( cane的名词复数 )；（用于制作家具等的）竹竿；竹杖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
brandished
|
|
| v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 )；炫耀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
traitor
|
|
| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
ineffable
|
|
| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
goad
|
|
| n.刺棒，刺痛物；激励；vt.激励，刺激 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
pandemonium
|
|
| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
hurled
|
|
| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
havoc
|
|
| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
discord
|
|
| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
conflagration
|
|
| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
agitate
|
|
| vi.(for,against)煽动，鼓动；vt.搅动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
insistently
|
|
| ad.坚持地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
overflowing
|
|
| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
comedian
|
|
| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
appalled
|
|
| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
conjectured
|
|
| 推测，猜测，猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
comedians
|
|
| n.喜剧演员，丑角( comedian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
implements
|
|
| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
stunned
|
|
| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
pander
|
|
| v.迎合；n.拉皮条者，勾引者；帮人做坏事的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
punitive
|
|
| adj.惩罚的，刑罚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
improvised
|
|
| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
intimidated
|
|
| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
sergeants
|
|
| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
lodged
|
|
| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
obese
|
|
| adj.过度肥胖的，肥大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
garb
|
|
| n.服装，装束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |