Being thus welcomed as benefactors12, neither Mr. Tiffany nor myself felt any scruple13 in doing full justice to the good things that were set before us. If the feast were less magnificent than those same panelled walls had witnessed in a by-gone century — if mine host presided with somewhat less of state than might have befitted a successor of the royal Governors — if the guests made a less imposing14 show than the bewigged and powdered and embroidered15 dignitaries, who erst banqueted at the gubernatorial table, and now sleep, within their armorial tombs on Copp’s Hill, or round King’s Chapel16 — yet never, I may boldly say, did a more comfortable little party assemble in the Province House, from Queen Anne’s days to the Revolution. The occasion was rendered more interesting by the presence of a venerable personage, whose own actual reminiscences went back to the epoch18 of Gage19 and Howe, and even supplied him with a doubtful anecdote20 or two of Hutchinson. He was one of that small, and now all but extinguished, class, whose attachment21 to royalty22, and to the colonial institutions and customs that were connected with it, had never yielded to the democratic heresies24 of after times. The young queen of Britain has not a more loyal subject in her realm — perhaps not one who would kneel before her throne with such reverential love — as this old grandsire, whose head has whitened beneath the mild sway of the Republic, which still, in his mellower26 moments, he terms a usurpation27. Yet prejudices so obstinate28 have not made him an ungentle or impracticable companion. If the truth must be told, the life of the aged29 loyalist has been of such a scrambling30 and unsettled character — he has had so little choice of friends and been so often destitute31 of any — that I doubt whether he would refuse a cup of kindness with either Oliver Cromwell or John Hancock — to say nothing of any democrat23 now upon the stage. In another paper of this series I may perhaps give the reader a closer glimpse of his portrait.
Our host, in due season, uncorked a bottle of Madeira, of such exquisite32 perfume and admirable flavor that he surely must have discovered it in an ancient bin33, down deep beneath the deepest cellar, where some jolly old butler stored away the Governor’s choicest wine, and forgot to reveal the secret on his death-bed. Peace to his red-nosed ghost, and a libation to his memory! This precious liquor was imbibed34 by Mr. Tiffany with peculiar35 zest36; and after sipping37 the third glass, it was his pleasure to give us one of the oddest legends which he had yet raked from the storehouse where he keeps such matters. With some suitable adornments from my own fancy, it ran pretty much as follows.
Not long after Colonel Shute had assumed the government of Massachusetts Bay, now nearly a hundred and twenty years ago, a young lady of rank and fortune arrived from England, to claim his protection as her guardian40. He was her distant relative, but the nearest who had survived the gradual extinction41 of her family; so that no more eligible42 shelter could be found for the rich and high-born Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe than within the Province House of a transatlantic colony. The consort43 of Governor Shute, moreover, had been as a mother to her childhood, and was now anxious to receive her, in the hope that a beautiful young woman would be exposed to infinitely44 less peril45 from the primitive46 society of New England than amid the artifices47 and corruptions48 of a court. If either the Governor or his lady had especially consulted their own comfort, they would probably have sought to devolve the responsibility on other hands; since, with some noble and splendid traits of character, Lady Eleanore was remarkable49 for a harsh, unyielding pride, a haughty50 consciousness of her hereditary51 and personal advantages, which made her almost incapable52 of control. Judging from many traditionary anecdotes53, this peculiar temper was hardly less than a monomania; or, if the acts which it inspired were those of a sane54 person, it seemed due from Providence55 that pride so sinful should be followed by as severe a retribution. That tinge56 of the marvellous, which is thrown over so many of these half-forgotten legends, has probably imparted an additional wildness to the strange story of Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe.
The ship in which she came passenger had arrived at Newport, whence Lady Eleanore was conveyed to Boston in the Governor’s coach, attended by a small escort of gentlemen on horseback. The ponderous57 equipage with its four black horses, attracted much notice as it rumbled58 through Cornhill, surrounded by the prancing59 steeds of half a dozen cavaliers, with swords dangling60 to their stirrups and pistols at their holsters. Through the large glass windows of the coach, as it rolled along, the people could discern the figure of Lady Eleanore, strangely combining an almost queenly stateliness with the grace and beauty of a maiden61 in her teens. A singular tale had gone abroad among the ladies of the province, that their fair rival was indebted for much of the irresistible62 charm of her appearance to a certain article of dress — an embroidered mantle63 — which had been wrought64 by the most skilful65 artist in London, and possessed66 even magical properties of adornment39. On the present occasion, however, she owed nothing to the witchery of dress, being clad in a riding habit of velvet67, which would have appeared stiff and ungraceful on any other form.
The coachman reined68 in his four black steeds, and the whole cavalcade69 came to a pause in front of the contorted iron balustrade that fenced the Province House from the public street. It was an awkward coincidence that the bell of the Old South was just then tolling70 for a funeral; so that, instead of a gladsome peal71 with which it was customary to announce the arrival of distinguished72 strangers, Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe was ushered73 by a doleful clang, as if calamity74 had come embodied75 in her beautiful person.
“A very great disrespect!” exclaimed Captain Langford, an English officer, who had recently brought dispatches to Governor Shute. “The funeral should have been deferred76, lest Lady Eleanore’s spirits be affected77 by such a dismal78 welcome.”
“With your pardon, sir,” replied Doctor Clarke, a physician, and a famous champion of the popular party, “whatever the heralds79 may pretend, a dead beggar must have precedence of a living queen. King Death confers high privileges.”
These remarks were interchanged while the speakers waited a passage through the crowd, which had gathered on each side of the gateway80, leaving an open avenue to the portal of the Province House. A black slave in livery now leaped from behind the coach, and threw open the door; while at the same moment Governor Shute descended81 the flight of steps from his mansion, to assist Lady Eleanore in alighting. But the Governor’s stately approach was anticipated in a manner that excited general astonishment82. A pale young man, with his black hair all in disorder83, rushed from the throng84, and prostrated85 himself beside the coach, thus offering his person as a footstool for Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe to tread upon. She held back an instant, yet with an expression as if doubting whether the young man were worthy86 to bear the weight of her footstep, rather than dissatisfied to receive such awful reverence87 from a fellow-mortal.
“Up, sir,” said the Governor, sternly, at the same time lifting his cane88 over the intruder. “What means the Bedlamite by this freak?”
“Nay,” answered Lady Eleanore playfully, but with more scorn than pity in her tone, “your Excellency shall not strike him. When men seek only to be trampled89 upon, it were a pity to deny them a favor so easily granted — and so well deserved!”
Then, though as lightly as a sunbeam on a cloud, she placed her foot upon the cowering90 form, and extended her hand to meet that of the Governor. There was a brief interval91, during which Lady Eleanore retained this attitude; and never, surely, was there an apter emblem92 of aristocracy and hereditary pride trampling93 on human sympathies and the kindred of nature, than these two figures presented at that moment. Yet the spectators were so smitten94 with her beauty, and so essential did pride seem to the existence of such a creature, that they gave a simultaneous acclamation of applause.
“Who is this insolent95 young fellow?” inquired Captain Langford, who still remained beside Doctor Clarke. “If he be in his senses, his impertinence demands the bastinado. If mad, Lady Eleanore should be secured from further inconvenience, by his confinement96.”
“His name is Jervase Helwyse,” answered the Doctor; “a youth of no birth or fortune, or other advantages, save the mind and soul that nature gave him; and being secretary to our colonial agent in London, it was his misfortune to meet this Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe. He loved her — and her scorn has driven him mad.”
“He was mad so to aspire,” observed the English officer.
“It may be so,” said Doctor Clarke, frowning as he spoke97. “But I tell you, sir, I could well-nigh doubt the justice of the Heaven above us if no signal humiliation98 overtake this lady, who now treads so haughtily99 into yonder mansion. She seeks to place herself above the sympathies of our common nature, which envelops100 all human souls. See, if that nature do not assert its claim over her in some mode that shall bring her level with the lowest!”
“Never!” cried Captain Langford indignantly —“neither in life, nor when they lay her with her ancestors.”
Not many days afterwards the Governor gave a ball in honor of Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe. The principal gentry101 of the colony received invitations, which were distributed to their residences, far and near, by messengers on horseback, bearing missives sealed with all the formality of official dispatches. In obedience102 to the summons, there was a general gathering103 of rank, wealth, and beauty; and the wide door of the Province House had seldom given admittance to more numerous and honorable guests than on the evening of Lady Eleanore’s ball. Without much extravagance of eulogy104, the spectacle might even be termed splendid; for, according to the fashion of the times, the ladies shone in rich silks and satins, outspread over wide-projecting hoops105; and the gentlemen glittered in gold embroidery106, laid unsparingly upon the purple, or scarlet107, or sky-blue velvet, which was the material of their coats and waistcoats. The latter article of dress was of great importance, since it enveloped108 the wearer’s body nearly to the knees, and was perhaps bedizened with the amount of his whole year’s income, in golden flowers and foliage109. The altered taste of the present day — a taste symbolic110 of a deep change in the whole system of society — would look upon almost any of those gorgeous figures as ridiculous; although that evening the guests sought their reflections in the pier-glasses, and rejoiced to catch their own glitter amid the glittering crowd. What a pity that one of the stately mirrors has not preserved a picture of the scene, which, by the very traits that were so transitory, might have taught us much that would be worth knowing and remembering!
Would, at least, that either painter or mirror could convey to us some faint idea of a garment, already noticed in this legend — the Lady Eleanore’s embroidered mantle — which the gossips whispered was invested with magic properties, so as to lend a new and untried grace to her figure each time that she put it on! Idle fancy as it is, this mysterious mantle has thrown an awe111 around my image of her, partly from its fabled112 virtues113, and partly because it was the handiwork of a dying woman, and, perchance, owed the fantastic grace of its conception to the delirium114 of approaching death.
After the ceremonial greetings had been paid, Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe stood apart from the mob of guests, insulating herself within a small and distinguished circle, to whom she accorded a more cordial favor than to the general throng. The waxen torches threw their radiance vividly115 over the scene, bringing out its brilliant points in strong relief; but she gazed carelessly, and with now and then an expression of weariness or scorn, tempered with such feminine grace that her auditors116 scarcely perceived the moral deformity of which it was the utterance117. She beheld118 the spectacle not with vulgar ridicule119, as disdaining120 to be pleased with the provincial121 mockery of a court festival, but with the deeper scorn of one whose spirit held itself too high to participate in the enjoyment122 of other human souls. Whether or no the recollections of those who saw her that evening were influenced by the strange events with which she was subsequently connected, so it was that her figure ever after recurred123 to them as marked by something wild and unnatural124 — although, at the time, the general whisper was of her exceeding beauty, and of the indescribable charm which her mantle threw around her. Some close observers, indeed, detected a feverish125 flush and alternate paleness of countenance126, with corresponding flow and revulsion of spirits, and once or twice a painful and helpless betrayal of lassitude, as if she were on the point of sinking to the ground. Then, with a nervous shudder127, she seemed to arouse her energies and threw some bright and playful yet half-wicked sarcasm128 into the conversation. There was so strange a characteristic in her manners and sentiments that it astonished every right-minded listener; till looking in her face, a lurking129 and incomprehensible glance and smile perplexed130 them with doubts both as to her seriousness and sanity131. Gradually, Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe’s circle grew smaller, till only four gentlemen remained in it. These were Captain Langford, the English officer before mentioned; a Virginian planter, who had come to Massachusetts on some political errand; a young Episcopal clergyman, the grandson of a British earl; and, lastly, the private secretary of Governor Shute, whose obsequiousness132 had won a sort of tolerance133 from Lady Eleanore.
At different periods of the evening the liveried servants of the Province House passed among the guests, bearing huge trays of refreshments134 and French and Spanish wines. Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe, who refused to wet her beautiful lips even with a bubble of Champagne135, had sunk back into a large damask chair, apparently136 overwearied either with the excitement of the scene or its tedium137, and while, for an instant, she was unconscious of voices, laughter and music, a young man stole forward, and knelt down at her feet. He bore a salver in his hand, on which was a chased silver goblet138, filled to the brim with wine, which he offered as reverentially as to a crowned queen, or rather with the awful devotion of a priest doing sacrifice to his idol139. Conscious that some one touched her robe, Lady Eleanore started, and unclosed her eyes upon the pale, wild features and dishevelled hair of Jervase Helwyse.
“Why do you haunt me thus?” said she, in a languid tone, but with a kindlier feeling than she ordinarily permitted herself to express. “They tell me that I have done you harm.”
“Heaven knows if that be so,” replied the young man solemnly. “But, Lady Eleanore, in requital140 of that harm, if such there be, and for your own earthly and heavenly welfare, I pray you to take one sip38 of this holy wine, and then to pass the goblet round among the guests. And this shall be a symbol that you have not sought to withdraw yourself from the chain of human sympathies — which whoso would shake off must keep company with fallen angels.”
“Where has this mad fellow stolen that sacramental vessel141?” exclaimed the Episcopal clergyman.
This question drew the notice of the guests to the silver cup, which was recognized as appertaining to the communion plate of the Old South Church; and, for aught that could be known, it was brimming over with the consecrated142 wine.
“Perhaps it is poisoned,” half whispered the Governor’s secretary.
“Pour it down the villain’s throat!” cried the Virginian fiercely.
“Turn him out of the house!” cried Captain Langford, seizing Jervase Helwyse so roughly by the shoulder that the sacramental cup was overturned, and its contents sprinkled upon Lady Eleanore’s mantle. “Whether knave143, fool, or Bedlamite, it is intolerable that the fellow should go at large.”
“Pray, gentlemen, do my poor admirer no harm,” said Lady Eleanore with a faint and weary smile. “Take him out of my sight, if such be your pleasure; for I can find in my heart to do nothing but laugh at him; whereas, in all decency144 and conscience, it would become me to weep for the mischief145 I have wrought!”
But while the by-standers were attempting to lead away the unfortunate young man, he broke from them, and with a wild, impassioned earnestness, offered a new and equally strange petition to Lady Eleanore. It was no other than that she should throw off the mantle, which, while he pressed the silver cup of wine upon her, she had drawn146 more closely around her form, so as almost to shroud147 herself within it.
“Cast it from you!” exclaimed Jervase Helwyse, clasping his hands in an agony of entreaty148. “It may not yet be too late! Give the accursed garment to the flames!”
But Lady Eleanore, with a laugh of scorn, drew the rich folds of the embroidered mantle over her head, in such a fashion as to give a completely new aspect to her beautiful face, which — half hidden, half revealed — seemed to belong to some being of mysterious character and purposes.
“Farewell, Jervase Helwyse!” said she. “Keep my image in your remembrance, as you behold149 it now.”
“Alas, lady!” he replied, in a tone no longer wild, but sad as a funeral bell. “We must meet shortly, when your face may wear another aspect — and that shall be the image that must abide150 within me.”
He made no more resistance to the violent efforts of the gentlemen and servants, who almost dragged him out of the apartment, and dismissed him roughly from the iron gate of the Province House. Captain Langford, who had been very active in this affair, was returning to the presence of Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe, when he encountered the physician, Doctor Clarke, with whom he had held some casual talk on the day of her arrival. The Doctor stood apart, separated from Lady Eleanore by the width of the room, but eying her with such keen sagacity that Captain Langford involuntarily gave him credit for the discovery of some deep secret.
“You appear to be smitten, after all, with the charms of this queenly maiden,” said he, hoping thus to draw forth151 the physician’s hidden knowledge.
“God forbid!” answered Doctor Clarke, with a grave smile; “and if you be wise you will put up the same prayer for yourself. Woe152 to those who shall be smitten by this beautiful Lady Eleanore! But yonder stands the Governor — and I have a word or two for his private ear. Good night!”
He accordingly advanced to Governor Shute, and addressed him in so low a tone that none of the by-standers could catch a word of what he said, although the sudden change of his Excellency’s hitherto cheerful visage betokened153 that the communication could be of no agreeable import. A very few moments afterwards it was announced to the guests that an unforeseen circumstance rendered it necessary to put a premature154 close to the festival.
The hall at the Province House supplied a topic of conversation for the colonial metropolis155 for some days after its occurrence, and might still longer have been the general theme, only that a subject of all-engrossing interest thrust it, for a time, from the public recollection. This was the appearance of a dreadful epidemic157, which, in that age and long before and afterwards, was wont158 to slay159 its hundreds and thousands on both sides of the Atlantic. On the occasion of which we speak, it was distinguished by a peculiar virulence160, insomuch that it has left its traces — its pit-marks, to use an appropriate figure — on the history of the country, the affairs of which were thrown into confusion by its ravages161. At first, unlike its ordinary course, the disease seemed to confine itself to the higher circles of society, selecting its victims from among the proud, the well-born, and the wealthy, entering unabashed into stately chambers162, and lying down with the slumberers in silken beds. Some of the most distinguished guests of the Province House even those whom the haughty Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe had deemed not unworthy of her favor — were stricken by this fatal scourge164. It was noticed, with an ungenerous bitterness of feeling, that the four gentlemen — the Virginian, the British officer, the young clergyman, and the Governor’s secretary — who had been her most devoted165 attendants on the evening of the ball, were the foremost of whom the plague stroke fell. But the disease, pursuing its onward166 progress, soon ceased to be exclusively a prerogative167 of aristocracy. Its red brand was no longer conferred like a noble’s star, or an order of knighthood. It threaded its way through the narrow and crooked168 streets, and entered the low, mean, darksome dwellings169, and laid its hand of death upon the artisans and laboring171 classes of the town. It compelled rich and poor to feel themselves brethren then; and stalking to and fro across the Three Hills, with a fierceness which made it almost a new pestilence172, there was that mighty173 conqueror174 — that scourge and horror of our forefathers175 — the Small–Pox!
We cannot estimate the affright which this plague inspired of yore, by contemplating176 it as the fangless177 monster of the present day. We must remember, rather, with what awe we watched the gigantic footsteps of the Asiatic cholera178, striding from shore to shore of the Atlantic, and marching like destiny upon cities far remote which flight had already half depopulated. There is no other fear so horrible and unhumanizing as that which makes man dread156 to breathe heaven’s vital air lest it be poison, or to grasp the hand of a brother or friend lest the gripe of the pestilence should clutch him. Such was the dismay that now followed in the track of the disease, or ran before it throughout the town. Graves were hastily dug, and the pestilential relics179 as hastily covered, because the dead were enemies of the living, and strove to draw them headlong, as it were, into their own dismal pit. The public councils were suspended, as if mortal wisdom might relinquish180 its devices, now that an unearthly usurper181 had found his way into the ruler’s mansion. Had an enemy’s fleet been hovering182 on the coast, or his armies trampling on our soil, the people would probably have committed their defence to that same direful conqueror who had wrought their own calamity, and would permit no interference with his sway. This conquerer had a symbol of his triumphs. It was a blood-red flag, that fluttered in the tainted183 air, over the door of every dwelling170 into which the Small–Pox had entered.
Such a banner was long since waving over the portal of the Province House; for thence, as was proved by tracking its footsteps back, had all this dreadful mischief issued. It had been traced back to a lady’s luxurious184 chamber163 — to the proudest of the proud — to her that was so delicate, and hardly owned herself of earthly mould — to the haughty one, who took her stand above human sympathies — to Lady Eleanore! There remained no room for doubt that the contagion185 had lurked186 in that gorgeous mantle, which threw so strange a grace around her at the festival. Its fantastic splendor187 had been conceived in the delirious188 brain of a woman on her death-bed, and was the last toil189 of her stiffening190 fingers, which had interwoven fate and misery191 with its golden threads. This dark tale, whispered at first, was now bruited192 far and wide. The people raved193 against the Lady Eleanore, and cried out that her pride and scorn had evoked194 a fiend, and that, between them both, this monstrous195 evil had been born. At times, their rage and despair took the semblance196 of grinning mirth; and whenever the red flag of the pestilence was hoisted197 over another and yet another door, they clapped their hands and shouted through the streets, in bitter mockery: “Behold a new triumph for the Lady Eleanore!”
One day, in the midst of these dismal times, a wild figure approached the portal of the Province House, and folding his arms, stood contemplating the scarlet banner which a passing breeze shook fitfully, as if to fling abroad the contagion that it typified. At length, climbing one of the pillars by means of the iron balustrade, he took down the flag and entered the mansion, waving it above his head. At the foot of the staircase he met the Governor, booted and spurred, with his cloak drawn around him, evidently on the point of setting forth upon a journey.
“Wretched lunatic, what do you seek here?” exclaimed Shute, extending his cane to guard himself from contact. “There is nothing here but Death. Back — or you will meet him!”
“Death will not touch me, the banner-bearer of the pestilence!” cried Jervase Helwyse, shaking the red flag aloft. “Death, and the Pestilence, who wears the aspect of the Lady Eleanore, will walk through the streets to-night, and I must march before them with this banner!”
“Why do I waste words on the fellow?” muttered the Governor, drawing his cloak across his mouth. “What matters his miserable198 life, when none of us are sure of twelve hours’ breath? On, fool, to your own destruction!”
He made way for Jervase Helwyse, who immediately ascended199 the staircase, but, on the first landing place, was arrested by the firm grasp of a hand upon his shoulder. Looking fiercely up, with a madman’s impulse to struggle with and rend17 asunder200 his opponent, he found himself powerless beneath a calm, stern eye, which possessed the mysterious property of quelling201 frenzy202 at its height. The person whom he had now encountered was the physician, Doctor Clarke, the duties of whose sad profession had led him to the Province House, where he was an infrequent guest in more prosperous times.
“Young man, what is your purpose?” demanded he.
“I seek the Lady Eleanore,” answered Jervase Helwyse, submissively.
“All have fled from her,” said the physician. “Why do you seek her now? I tell you, youth, her nurse fell death-stricken on the threshold of that fatal chamber. Know ye not, that never came such a curse to our shores as this lovely Lady Eleanore? — that her breath has filled the air with poison? — that she has shaken pestilence and death upon the land, from the folds of her accursed mantle?”
“Let me look upon her!” rejoined the mad youth, more wildly. “Let me behold her, in her awful beauty, clad in the regal garments of the pestilence! She and Death sit on a throne together. Let me kneel down before them!”
“Poor youth!” said Doctor Clarke; and, moved by a deep sense of human weakness, a smile of caustic203 humor curled his lip even then. “Wilt thou still worship the destroyer and surround her image with fantasies the more magnificent, the more evil she has wrought? Thus man doth ever to his tyrants204. Approach, then! Madness, as I have noted205, has that good efficacy, that it will guard you from contagion — and perchance its own cure may be found in yonder chamber.”
Ascending206 another flight of stairs, he threw open a door and signed to Jervase Helwyse that he should enter. The poor lunatic, it seems probable, had cherished a delusion207 that his haughty mistress sat in state, unharmed herself by the pestilential influence, which, as by enchantment208, she scattered209 round about her. He dreamed, no doubt, that her beauty was not dimmed, but brightened into superhuman splendor. With such anticipations210, he stole reverentially to the door at which the physician stood, but paused upon the threshold, gazing fearfully into the gloom of the darkened chamber.
“Where is the Lady Eleanore?” whispered he.
“Call her,” replied the physician.
“Lady Eleanore! — Princess! — Queen of Death!” cried Jervase Helwyse, advancing three steps into the chamber. “She is not here! There on yonder table, I behold the sparkle of a diamond which once she wore upon her bosom211. There”— and he shuddered212 —“there hangs her mantle, on which a dead woman embroidered a spell of dreadful potency213. But where is the Lady Eleanore?”
Something stirred within the silken curtains of a canopied214 bed; and a low moan was uttered, which, listening intently, Jervase Helwyse began to distinguish as a woman’s voice, complaining dolefully of thirst. He fancied, even, that he recognized its tones.
“My throat! — my throat is scorched,” murmured the voice. “A drop of water!”
“What thing art thou?” said the brain-stricken youth, drawing near the bed and tearing asunder its curtains. “Whose voice hast thou stolen for thy murmurs215 and miserable petitions, as if Lady Eleanore could be conscious of mortal infirmity? Fie! Heap of diseased mortality, why lurkest thou in my lady’s chamber?”
“O Jervase Helwyse,” said the voice — and as it spoke the figure contorted itself, struggling to hide its blasted face —“look not now on the woman you once loved! The curse of Heaven hath stricken me, because I would not call man my brother, nor woman sister. I wrapped myself in PRIDE as in a MANTLE, and scorned the sympathies of nature; and therefore has nature made this wretched body the medium of a dreadful sympathy. You are avenged216 — they are all avenged — Nature is avenged — for I am Eleanore Rochcliffe!”
The malice217 of his mental disease, the bitterness lurking at the bottom of his heart, mad as he was, for a blighted218 and ruined life, and love that had been paid with cruel scorn, awoke within the breast of Jervase Helwyse. He shook his finger at the wretched girl, and the chamber echoed, the curtains of the bed were shaken, with his outburst of insane merriment.
“Another triumph for the Lady Eleanore!” he cried. “All have been her victims! Who so worthy to be the final victim as herself?”
Impelled219 by some new fantasy of his crazed intellect, he snatched the fatal mantle and rushed from the chamber and the house. That night a procession passed, by torchlight, through the streets, bearing in the midst the figure of a woman, enveloped with a richly embroidered mantle; while in advance stalked Jervase Helwyse, waving the red flag of the pestilence. Arriving opposite the Province House, the mob burned the effigy220, and a strong wind came and swept away the ashes. It was said that, from that very hour, the pestilence abated221, as if its sway had some mysterious connection, from the first plague stroke to the last, with Lady Eleanore’s Mantle. A remarkable uncertainty222 broods over that unhappy lady’s fate. There is a belief, however, that in a certain chamber of this mansion a female form may sometimes be duskily discerned, shrinking into the darkest corner and muffling223 her face within an embroidered mantle. Supposing the legend true, can this be other than the once proud Lady Eleanore?
Mine host and the old loyalist and I bestowed224 no little warmth of applause upon this narrative5, in which we had all been deeply interested; for the reader can scarcely conceive how unspeakably the effect of such a tale is heightened when, as in the present case, we may repose225 perfect confidence in the veracity226 of him who tells it. For my own part, knowing how scrupulous227 is Mr. Tiffany to settle the foundation of his facts, I could not have believed him one whit25 the more faithfully had he professed228 himself an eye-witness of the doings and sufferings of poor Lady Eleanore. Some sceptics, it is true, might demand documentary evidence, or even require him to produce the embroidered mantle, forgetting that — Heaven be praised — it was consumed to ashes. But now the old loyalist, whose blood was warmed by the good cheer, began to talk, in his turn, about the traditions of the Province House, and hinted that he, if it were agreeable, might add a few reminiscences to our legendary229 stock. Mr. Tiffany, having no cause to dread a rival, immediately besought230 him to favor us with a specimen231; my own entreaties232, of course, were urged to the same effect; and our venerable guest, well pleased to find willing auditors, awaited only the return of Mr. Thomas Waite, who had been summoned forth to provide accommodations for several new arrivals. Perchance the public-but be this as its own caprice and ours shall settle the matter — may read the result in another Tale of the Province House.
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oyster
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| n.牡蛎；沉默寡言的人 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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narratives
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| 记叙文( narrative的名词复数 )； 故事； 叙述； 叙述部分 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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quaffed
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| v.痛饮( quaff的过去式和过去分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
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10
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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11
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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12
benefactors
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| n.捐助者，施主( benefactor的名词复数 )；恩人 | |
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13
scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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14
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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15
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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16
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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17
rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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18
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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19
gage
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| n.标准尺寸，规格；量规，量表 [=gauge] | |
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20
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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21
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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22
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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23
democrat
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士；民主党党员 | |
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24
heresies
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| n.异端邪说，异教( heresy的名词复数 ) | |
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25
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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26
mellower
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| 成熟的( mellow的比较级 )； （水果）熟透的； （颜色或声音）柔和的； 高兴的 | |
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27
usurpation
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| n.篡位；霸占 | |
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28
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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29
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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30
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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31
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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32
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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33
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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34
imbibed
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| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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35
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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36
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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37
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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38
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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39
adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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40
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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41
extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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42
eligible
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| adj.有条件被选中的；(尤指婚姻等)合适(意)的 | |
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43
consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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44
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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45
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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46
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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47
artifices
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| n.灵巧( artifice的名词复数 )；诡计；巧妙办法；虚伪行为 | |
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48
corruptions
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| n.堕落( corruption的名词复数 )；腐化；腐败；贿赂 | |
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49
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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50
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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51
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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52
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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53
anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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54
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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55
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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56
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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57
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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58
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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59
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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60
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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61
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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62
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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63
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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64
wrought
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|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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65
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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66
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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67
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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68
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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69
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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70
tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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71
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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72
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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73
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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75
embodied
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| v.表现( embody的过去式和过去分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
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76
deferred
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|
| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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77
affected
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|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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78
dismal
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|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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79
heralds
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|
| n.使者( herald的名词复数 )；预报者；预兆；传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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80
gateway
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|
| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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81
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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82
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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83
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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84
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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85
prostrated
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|
| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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86
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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87
reverence
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|
| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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88
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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89
trampled
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|
| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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90
cowering
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|
| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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91
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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92
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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93
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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94
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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95
insolent
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|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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96
confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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97
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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98
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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99
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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100
envelops
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的第三人称单数 ) | |
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101
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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102
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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103
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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104
eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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105
hoops
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| n.箍( hoop的名词复数 )；（篮球）篮圈；（旧时儿童玩的）大环子；（两端埋在地里的）小铁弓 | |
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106
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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107
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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108
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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110
symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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111
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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112
fabled
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| adj.寓言中的，虚构的 | |
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113
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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114
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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115
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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116
auditors
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| n.审计员，稽核员( auditor的名词复数 )；（大学课程的）旁听生 | |
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117
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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118
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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119
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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120
disdaining
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| 鄙视( disdain的现在分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
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121
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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122
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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123
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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124
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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125
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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126
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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127
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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128
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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129
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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130
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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131
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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132
obsequiousness
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| 媚骨 | |
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133
tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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134
refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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135
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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136
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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137
tedium
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| n.单调；烦闷 | |
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138
goblet
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| n.高脚酒杯 | |
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139
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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140
requital
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| n.酬劳；报复 | |
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141
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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142
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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143
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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144
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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145
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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146
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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147
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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148
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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149
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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150
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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151
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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152
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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153
betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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154
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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155
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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156
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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157
epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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158
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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159
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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160
virulence
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| n.毒力，毒性；病毒性；致病力 | |
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161
ravages
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| 劫掠后的残迹，破坏的结果，毁坏后的残迹 | |
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162
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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163
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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164
scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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165
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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166
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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167
prerogative
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| n.特权 | |
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168
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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169
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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170
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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171
laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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172
pestilence
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| n.瘟疫 | |
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173
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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174
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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175
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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176
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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177
fangless
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| Fangless | |
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178
cholera
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| n.霍乱 | |
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179
relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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180
relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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181
usurper
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| n. 篡夺者, 僭取者 | |
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182
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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183
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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184
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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185
contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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186
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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187
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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188
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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189
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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190
stiffening
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| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
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191
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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192
bruited
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| v.传播（传说或谣言）( bruit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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193
raved
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| v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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194
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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195
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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196
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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197
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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198
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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199
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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200
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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201
quelling
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| v.（用武力）制止，结束，镇压( quell的现在分词 ) | |
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202
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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203
caustic
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| adj.刻薄的，腐蚀性的 | |
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204
tyrants
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| 专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 )； 暴君似的人； （古希腊的）僭主； 严酷的事物 | |
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205
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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206
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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207
delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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208
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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209
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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210
anticipations
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| 预期( anticipation的名词复数 )； 预测； （信托财产收益的）预支； 预期的事物 | |
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211
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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212
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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213
potency
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| n. 效力，潜能 | |
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214
canopied
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| adj. 遮有天篷的 | |
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215
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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216
avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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217
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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218
blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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219
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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220
effigy
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| n.肖像 | |
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221
abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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222
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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223
muffling
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| v.压抑，捂住( muffle的现在分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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224
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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225
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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226
veracity
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| n.诚实 | |
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227
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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228
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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229
legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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230
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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231
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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232
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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