Let him bring his share with him.
BRAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
Mr. Bletson arose and paid his respects to Colonel Everard, with the ease and courtesy of a gentleman of the time; though on every account grieved at his intrusion, as a religious man who held his free-thinking principles in detestation, and would effectually prevent his conversion1 of Harrison, and even of Desborough, if any thing could be moulded out of such a clod, to the worship of the Animus2 Mundi. Moreover, Bletson knew Everard to be a man of steady probity3, and by no means disposed to close with a scheme on which he had successfully sounded the other two, and which was calculated to assure the Commissioners4 of some little private indemnification for the trouble they were to give themselves in the public business. The philosopher was yet less pleased, when he saw the magistrate5 the pastor6 who had met him in his flight of the preceding evening, when he had been seen, parma non bene relicta, with cloak and doublet left behind him.
The presence of Colonel Everard was as unpleasing to Desborough as to Bletson: but the former having no philosophy in him, nor an idea that it was possible for any man to resist helping7 himself out of untold8 money, was chiefly embarrassed by the thought, that the plunder9 which they might be able to achieve out of their trust, might, by this unwelcome addition to their number, be divided into four parts instead of three; and this reflection added to the natural awkwardness with which he grumbled10 forth11 a sort of welcome, addressed to Everard.
As for Harrison, he remained like one on higher thoughts intent; his posture12 unmoved, his eyes fixed13 on the ceiling as before, and in no way indicating the least consciousness that the company had been more than doubled around him.
Meantime, Everard took his place at the table, as a man who assumed his own right, and pointed14 to his companions to sit down nearer the foot of the board. Wildrake so far misunderstood his signals, as to sit down above the Mayor; but rallying his recollection at a look from his patron, he rose and took his place lower, whistling, however, as he went, a sound at which the company stared, as at a freedom highly unbecoming. To complete his indecorum, he seized upon a pipe, and filling it from a large tobacco-box, was soon immersed in a cloud of his own raising; from which a hand shortly after emerged, seized on the black-jack of ale, withdrew it within the vapoury sanctuary15, and, after a potential draught16, replaced it upon the table, its owner beginning to renew the cloud which his intermitted exercise of the tube had almost allowed to subside17.
Nobody made any observation on his conduct, out of respect, probably, to Colonel Everard, who bit his lip, but continued silent; aware that censure18 might extract some escapade more unequivocally characteristic of a cavalier, from his refractory19 companion. As silence seemed awkward, and the others made no advances to break it, beyond the ordinary salutation, Colonel Everard at length said, “I presume, gentlemen, that you are somewhat surprised at my arrival here, and thus intruding20 myself into your meeting?”
“Why the dickens should we be surprised, Colonel?” said Desborough; “we know his Excellency, my brother-inlaw Noll’s — I mean my Lord Cromwell’s way, of overquartering his men in the towns he marches through. Thou hast obtained a share in our commission?”
“And in that,” said Bletson, smiling and bowing, “the Lord-General has given us the most acceptable colleague that could have been added to our number. No doubt your authority for joining with us must be under warrant of the Council of State?”
“Of that, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, “I will presently advise you.”— He took out his warrant accordingly, and was about to communicate the contents; but observing that there were three or four half-empty flasks21 upon the table, that Desborough looked more stupid than usual, and that the philosopher’s eyes were reeling in his head, notwithstanding the temperance of Bletson’s usual habits, he concluded that they had been fortifying23 themselves against the horrors of the haunted mansion24, by laying in a store of what is called Dutch courage, and therefore prudently25 resolved to postpone26 his more important business with them till the cooler hour of morning. He, therefore, instead of presenting the General’s warrant superseding28 their commission, contented29 himself with replying — “My business has, of course, some reference to your proceedings30 here. But here is — excuse my curiosity — a reverend gentleman,” pointing to Holdenough, “who has told me that you are so strangely embarrassed here, as to require both the civil and spiritual authority to enable you to keep possession of Woodstock.”
“Before we go into that matter,” said Bletson, blushing up to the eyes at the recollection of his own fears, so manifestly displayed, yet so inconsistent with his principles, “I should like to know who this other stranger is, who has come with the worthy31 magistrate, and the no less worthy Presbyterian?”
“Meaning me?” said Wildrake, laying his pipe aside; “Gadzooks, the time hath been that I could have answered the question with a better title; but at present I am only his honour’s poor clerk, or secretary, whichever is the current phrase.”
“‘Fore George, my lively blade, thou art a frank fellow of thy tattle,” said Desborough. “There is my secretary Tomkins, whom men sillily enough call Fibbet, and the honourable32 Lieutenant-General Harrison’s secretary Bibbet, who are now at supper below stairs, that durst not for their ears speak a phrase above their breath in the presence of their betters, unless to answer a question.”
“Yes, Colonel Everard,” said the philosopher, with his quiet smile, glad, apparently33, to divert the conversation from the topic of last night’s alarm, and recollections which humbled34 his self-love and self-satisfaction — “yes; and when Master Fibbet and Master Bibbet do speak, their affirmations are as much in a common mould of mutual36 attestation37, as their names would accord in the verses of a poet. If Master Fibbet happens to tell a fiction, Master Bibbet swears it as truth. If Master Bibbet chances to have gotten drunk in the fear of the Lord, Master Fibbet swears he is sober. I have called my own secretary Gibbet, though his name chances to be only Gibeon, a worthy Israelite at your service, but as pure a youth as ever picked a lamb-bone at Paschal. But I call him Gibbet, merely to make up the holy trefoil with another rhyme. This squire38 of thine, Colonel Everard, looks as if he might be worthy to be coupled with the rest of the fraternity.”
“Not I, truly,” said the cavalier; “I’ll be coupled with no Jew that was ever whelped, and no Jewess neither.”
“Scorn not for that, young man,” said the philosopher; “the Jews are, in point of religion, the elder brethren, you know.”
“The Jews older than the Christians40?” said Desborough, “‘fore George, they will have thee before the General Assembly, Bletson, if thou venturest to say so.”
Wildrake laughed without ceremony at the gross ignorance of Desborough, and was joined by a sniggling response from behind the cupboard, which, when inquired into, proved to be produced by the serving-men. These worthies41, timorous42 as their betters, when they were supposed to have left the room, had only withdrawn43 to their present place of concealment45.
“How now, ye rogues,” said Bletson, angrily; “do you not know your duty better?”
“We beg your worthy honour’s pardon,” said one of the men, “but we dared not go down stairs without a light.”
“A light, ye cowardly poltroons?” said the philosopher; “what — to show which of you looks palest when a rat squeaks47? — but take a candlestick and begone, you cowardly villains48! the devils you are so much afraid of must be but paltry49 kites, if they hawk50 at such bats as you are.”
The servants, without replying, took up one of the candlesticks, and prepared to retreat, Trusty Tomkins at the head of the troop, when suddenly, as they arrived at the door of the parlour, which had been left half open, it was shut violently. The three terrified domestics tumbled back into the middle of the room, as if a shot had been discharged in their face, and all who were at the table started to their feet.
Colonel Everard was incapable51 of a moment’s fear, even if any thing frightful52 had been seen; but he remained stationary53, to see what his companions would do, and to get at the bottom, if possible, of the cause of their alarm upon an occasion so trifling54. The philosopher seemed to think that he was the person chiefly concerned to show manhood on the occasion.
He walked to the door accordingly, murmuring at the cowardice55 of the servants; but at such a snail’s pace, that it seemed he would most willingly have been anticipated by any one whom his reproaches had roused to exertion56. “Cowardly blockheads!” he said at last, seizing hold of the handle of the door, but without turning it effectually round — “dare you not open a door?”—(still fumbling57 with the lock)—“dare you not go down a stair-case without a light? Here, bring me the candle, you cowardly villains! — By Heaven, something sighs on the outside!”
As he spoke58, he let go the handle of the parlour door, and stepped back a pace or two into the apartment, with cheeks as pale as the band he wore.
“Deus adjutor meus!” said the Presbyterian clergyman, rising from his seat. “Give place, sir,” addressing Bletson; “it would seem I know more of this matter than thou, and I bless Heaven I am armed for the conflict.”
Bold as a grenadier about to mount a breach59, yet with the same belief in the existence of a great danger to be encountered, as well as the same reliance in the goodness of his cause, the worthy man stepped before the philosophical60 Bletson, and taking a light from a sconce in one hand, quietly opened the door with the other, and standing22 in the threshold, said, “Here is nothing!”
“And who expected to see any thing,” said Bletson, “excepting those terrified oafs, who take fright at every puff61 of wind that whistles through the passages of this old dungeon62?”
“Mark you, Master Tomkins,” said one of the waiting-men in a whisper to the steward63 — “See how boldly the minister pressed forward before all of them. Ah! Master Tomkins, our parson is the real commissioned officer of the church — your lay-preachers are no better than a parcel of club-men and volunteers.”
“Follow me those who list,” said Master Holdenough, “or go before me those who choose, I will walk through the habitable places of this house before I leave it, and satisfy myself whether Satan hath really mingled64 himself among these dreary65 dens66 of ancient wickedness, or whether, like the wicked of whom holy David speaketh, we are afraid, and flee when no one pursueth.”
Harrison, who had heard these words, sprung from his seat, and drawing his sword, exclaimed, “Were there as many fiends in the house as there are hairs on my head, upon this cause I will charge them up to their very trenches67!”
So saying, he brandished68 his weapon, and pressed to the head of the column, where he moved side by side with the minister. The Mayor of Woodstock next joined the body, thinking himself safer perhaps in the company of his pastor; and the whole train moved forward in close order, accompanied by the servants bearing lights, to search the Lodge69 for some cause of that panic with which they seemed to be suddenly seized.
“Nay, take me with you, my friends,” said Colonel Everard, who had looked on in surprise, and was now about to follow the party, when Bletson laid hold on his cloak, and begged him to remain.
“You see, my good Colonel,” he said, affecting a courage which his shaking voice belied70, “here are only you and I and honest Desborough left behind in garrison71, while all the others are absent on a sally. We must not hazard the whole troops in one sortie — that were unmilitary — Ha, ha, ha!”
“In the name of Heaven, what means all this?” said Everard. “I heard a foolish tale about apparitions72 as I came this way, and now I find you all half mad with fear, and cannot get a word of sense among so many of you. Fie, Colonel Desborough — fie, Master Bletson — try to compose yourselves, and let me know, in Heaven’s name, the cause of all this disturbance73. One would be apt to think your brains were turned.”
“And so mine well may,” said Desborough, “ay, and overturned too, since my bed last night was turned upside down, and I was placed for ten minutes heels uppermost, and head downmost, like a bullock going to be shod.”
“What means this nonsense, Master Bletson? — Desborough must have had the nightmare.”
“No, faith, Colonel; the goblins, or whatever else they were, had been favourable74 to honest Desborough, for they reposed75 the whole of his person on that part of his body which — Hark, did you not hear something? — is the central point of gravity, namely, his head.”
“Did you see any thing to alarm you?” said the Colonel.
“Nothing,” said Bletson; “but we heard hellish noises, as all our people did; and I, believing little of ghosts and apparitions, concluded the cavaliers were taking us at advantage; so, remembering Rainsborough’s fate, I e’en jumped the window, and ran to Woodstock, to call the soldiers to the rescue of Harrison and Desborough.”
“And did you not first go to see what the danger was?”
“Ah, my good friend, you forget that I laid down my commission at the time of the self-denying ordinance76. It would have been quite inconsistent with my duty as a Parliament-man to be brawling77 amidst a set of ruffians, without any military authority. No — when the Parliament commanded me to sheath my sword, Colonel, I have too much veneration78 for their authority to be found again with it drawn44 in my hand.”
“But the Parliament,” said Desborough, hastily, “did not command you to use your heels when your hands could have saved a man from choking. Odds79 dickens! you might have stopped when you saw my bed canted heels uppermost, and me half stifled80 in the bed-clothes — you might, I say, have stopped and lent a hand to put it to rights, instead of jumping out of the window, like a new-shorn sheep, so soon as you had run across my room.”
“Nay, worshipful Master Desborough,” said Bletson, winking81 at Everard, to show that he was playing on his thick-sculled colleague, “how could I tell your particular mode of reposing82? — there are many tastes — I have known men who slept by choice on a slope or angle of forty-five.”
“Yes, but did ever a man sleep standing on his head, except by miracle?” said Desborough.
“Now, as to miracles”— said the philosopher, confident in the presence of Everard, besides that an opportunity of scoffing83 at religion really in some degree diverted his fear —“I leave these out of the question, seeing that the evidence on such subjects seems as little qualified84 to carry conviction as a horse-hair to land a leviathan.”
A loud clap of thunder, or a noise as formidable, rang through the Lodge as the scoffer85 had ended, which struck him pale and motionless, and made Desborough throw himself on his knees, and repeat exclamations86 and prayers in much admired confusion.
“There must be contrivance here,” exclaimed Everard; and snatching one of the candles from a sconce, he rushed out of the apartment, little heeding87 the entreaties88 of the philosopher, who, in the extremity89 of his distress90, conjured91 him by the Animus Mundi to remain to the assistance of a distressed93 philosopher endangered by witches, and a Parliament-man assaulted by ruffians. As for Desborough, he only gaped94 like a clown in a pantomime; and, doubtful whether to follow or stop, his natural indolence prevailed, and he sat still.
When on the landing-place of the stairs, Everard paused a moment to consider which was the best course to take. He heard the voices of men talking fast and loud, like people who wish to drown their fears, in the lower story; and aware that nothing could be discovered by those whose inquiries95 were conducted in a manner so noisy, he resolved to proceed in a different direction, and examine the second floor, which he had now gained.
He had known every corner, both of the inhabited and uninhabited part of the mansion, and availed himself of the candle to traverse two or three intricate passages, which he was afraid he might not remember with sufficient accuracy. This movement conveyed him to a sort of oeil-deboeuf, an octagon vestibule, or small hall, from which various rooms opened. Amongst these doors, Everard selected that which led to a very long, narrow, and dilapidated gallery, built in the time of Henry VIII., and which, running along the whole south-west side of the building, communicated at different points with the rest of the mansion. This he thought was likely to be the post occupied by those who proposed to act the sprites upon the occasion; especially as its length and shape gave him some idea that it was a spot where the bold thunder might in many ways be imitated.
Determined96 to ascertain97 the truth if possible, he placed his light on a table in the vestibule, and applied98 himself to open the door into the gallery. At this point he found himself strongly opposed either by a bolt drawn, or, as he rather conceived, by somebody from within resisting his attempt. He was induced to believe the latter, because the resistance slackened and was renewed, like that of human strength, instead of presenting the permanent opposition99 of an inanimate obstacle. Though Everard was a strong and active young man, he exhausted100 his strength in the vain attempt to open the door; and having paused to take breath, was about to renew his efforts with foot and shoulder, and to call at the same time for assistance, when to his surprise, on again attempting the door more gently, in order to ascertain if possible where the strength of the opposing obstacle was situated101, he found it gave way to a very slight impulse, some impediment fell broken to the ground, and the door flew wide open. The gust102 of wind, occasioned by the sudden opening of the door, blew out the candle, and Everard was left in darkness, save where the moonshine, which the long side-row of latticed windows dimmed, could imperfectly force its way into the gallery, which lay in ghostly length before him.
The melancholy103 and doubtful twilight104 was increased by a quantity of creeping plants on the outside, which, since all had been neglected in these ancient halls, now completely overgrown, had in some instances greatly diminished, and in others almost quite choked up, the space of the lattices, extending between the heavy stone shaftwork which divided the windows, both lengthways and across. On the other side there were no windows at all, and the gallery had been once hung round with paintings, chiefly portraits, by which that side of the apartment had been adorned105. Most of the pictures had been removed, yet the empty frames of some, and the tattered106 remnants of others, were still visible along the extent of the waste gallery; the look of which was so desolate107, and it appeared so well adapted for mischief108, supposing there were enemies near him, that Everard could not help pausing at the entrance, and recommending himself to God, ere, drawing his sword, he advanced into the apartment, treading as lightly as possible, and keeping in the shadow as much as he could.
Markham Everard was by no means superstitious109, but he had the usual credulity of the times; and though he did not yield easily to tales of supernatural visitations, yet he could not help thinking he was in the very situation, where, if such things were ever permitted, they might be expected to take place, while his own stealthy and ill-assured pace, his drawn weapon, and extended arms, being the very attitude and action of doubt and suspicion, tended to increase in his mind the gloomy feelings of which they are the usual indications, and with which they are constantly associated. Under such unpleasant impressions, and conscious of the neighbourhood of something unfriendly, Colonel Everard had already advanced about half along the gallery, when he heard some one sigh very near him, and a low soft voice pronounce his name.
“Here I am,” he replied, while his heart beat thick and short. “Who calls on Markham Everard?”
Another sigh was the only answer.
“Speak,” said the Colonel, “whoever or whatsoever110 you are, and tell with what intent and purpose you are lurking111 in these apartments?”
“With a better intent than yours,” returned the soft voice.
“Than mine!” answered Everard in great surprise. “Who are you that dare judge of my intents?”
“What, or who are you, Markham Everard, who wander by moonlight through these deserted112 halls of royalty113, where none should be but those who mourn their downfall, or are sworn to avenge114 it?”
“It is — and yet it cannot be,” said Everard; “yet it is, and must be. Alice Lee, the devil or you speaks. Answer me, I conjure92 you! — speak openly — on what dangerous scheme are you engaged? where is your father? why are you here? — wherefore do you run so deadly a venture? — Speak, I conjure you, Alice Lee!”
“She whom you call on is at the distance of miles from this spot. What if her Genius speaks when she is absent? — what if the soul of an ancestress of hers and yours were now addressing you? — what if”—
“Nay,” answered Everard, “but what if the dearest of human beings has caught a touch of her father’s enthusiasm? — what if she is exposing her person to danger, her reputation to scandal, by traversing in disguise and darkness a house filled with armed men? Speak to me, my fair cousin, in your own person. I am furnished with powers to protect my uncle, Sir Henry — to protect you too, dearest Alice, even against the consequences of this visionary and wild attempt. Speak — I see where you are, and, with all my respect, I cannot submit to be thus practised upon. Trust me — trust your cousin Markham with your hand, and believe that he will die or place you in honourable safety.”
As he spoke, he exercised his eyes as keenly as possible to detect where the speaker stood; and it seemed to him, that about three yards from him there was a shadowy form, of which he could not discern even the outline, placed as it was within the deep and prolonged shadow thrown by a space of wall intervening betwixt two windows, upon that side of the room from which the light was admitted. He endeavoured to calculate, as well as he could, the distance betwixt himself and the object which he watched, under the impression, that if, by even using a slight degree of compulsion, he could detach his beloved Alice from the confederacy into which he supposed her father’s zeal115 for the cause of royalty had engaged her, he would be rendering116 them both the most essential favour. He could not indeed but conclude, that however successfully the plot which he conceived to be in agitation117 had proceeded against the timid Bletson, the stupid Desborough, and the crazy Harrison, there was little doubt that at length their artifices118 must necessarily bring shame and danger on those engaged in it.
It must also be remembered, that Everard’s affection to his cousin, although of the most respectful and devoted119 character, partook less of the distant veneration which a lover of those days entertained for the lady whom he worshipped with humble35 diffidence, than of the fond and familiar feelings which a brother entertains towards a younger sister, whom he thinks himself entitled to guide, advise, and even in some degree to control. So kindly120 and intimate had been their intercourse121, that he had little more hesitation122 in endeavouring to arrest her progress in the dangerous course in which she seemed to be engaged, even at the risk of giving her momentary123 offence, than he would have had in snatching her from a torrent124 or conflagration125, at the chance of hurting her by the violence of his grasp. All this passed through his mind in the course of a single minute; and he resolved at all events to detain her on the spot, and compel, if possible, an explanation from her.
With this purpose, Everard again conjured his cousin, in the name of Heaven, to give up this idle and dangerous mummery; and lending an accurate ear to her answer, endeavoured from the sound to calculate as nearly as possible the distance between them.
“I am not she for whom you take me,” said the voice; “and dearer regards than aught connected with her life or death, bid me warn you to keep aloof126, and leave this place.”
“Not till I have convinced you of your childish folly,” said the Colonel, springing forward, and endeavouring to catch hold of her who spoke to him. But no female form was within his grasp. On the contrary, he was met by a shock which could come from no woman’s arm, and which was rude enough to stretch him on his back on the floor. At the same time he felt the point of a sword at his throat, and his hands so completely mastered, that not the slightest defence remained to him.
“A cry for assistance,” said a voice near him, but not that which he had hitherto heard, “will be stifled in your blood! — No harm is meant you — be wise and be silent.”
The fear of death, which Everard had often braved in the field of battle, became more intense as he felt himself in the hands of unknown assassins, and totally devoid127 of all means of defence. The sharp point of the sword pricked128 his bare throat, and the foot of him who held it was upon his breast. He felt as if a single thrust would put an end to life, and all the feverish129 joys and sorrows which agitate130 us so strangely, and from which we are yet so reluctant to part. Large drops of perspiration131 stood upon his forehead — his heart throbbed132, as if it would burst from its confinement133 in the bosom134 — he experienced the agony which fear imposes on the brave man, acute in proportion to that which pain inflicts135 when it subdues136 the robust137 and healthy.
“Cousin Alice,”— he attempted to speak, and the sword’s point pressed his throat yet more closely — “Cousin, let me not be murdered in a manner so fearful!”
“I tell you,” replied the voice, “that you speak to one who is not here; but your life is not aimed at, provided you swear on your faith as a Christian39, and your honour as a gentleman, that you will conceal46 what has happened, whether from the people below, or from any other person. On this condition you may rise; and if you seek her, you will find Alice Lee at Joceline’s cottage, in the forest.”
“Since I may not help myself otherwise,” said Everard, “I swear, as I have a sense of religion and honour, I will say nothing of this violence, nor make any search after those who are concerned in it.”
“For that we care nothing,” said the voice. “Thou hast an example how well thou mayst catch mischief on thy own part; but we are in case to defy thee. Rise, and begone!”
The foot, the sword’s-point, were withdrawn, and Everard was about to start up hastily, when the voice, in the same softness of tone which distinguished138 it at first, said, “No haste — cold and bare steel is yet around thee. Now — now — now —(the words dying away as at a distance)— thou art free. Be secret and be safe.”
Markham Everard arose, and, in rising, embarrassed his feet with his own sword, which he had dropped when springing forward, as he supposed, to lay hold of his fair cousin. He snatched it up in haste, and as his hand clasped the hilt, his courage, which had given way under the apprehension139 of instant death, began to return; he considered, with almost his usual composure, what was to be done next. Deeply affronted140 at the disgrace which he had sustained, he questioned for an instant whether he ought to keep his extorted141 promise, or should not rather summon assistance, and make haste to discover and seize those who had been recently engaged in such violence on his person. But these persons, be they who they would, had had his life in their power — he had pledged his word in ransom142 of it — and what was more, he could not divest143 himself of the idea that his beloved Alice was a confidant, at least, if not an actor, in the confederacy which had thus baffled him. This prepossession determined his conduct; for, though angry at supposing she must have been accessory to his personal ill-treatment, he could not in any event think of an instant search through the mansion, which might have compromised her safety, or that of his uncle. “But I will to the hut,” he said —“I will instantly to the hut, ascertain her share in this wild and dangerous confederacy, and snatch her from ruin, if it be possible.”
As, under the influence of the resolution which he had formed, Everard groped his way through the gallery and regained144 the vestibule, he heard his name called by the well-known voice of Wildrake. “What — ho! — holloa! — Colonel Everard — Mark Everard — it is dark as the devil’s mouth — speak — where are you? — The witches are keeping their hellish sabbath here, as I think. — Where are you?”
“Here, here!” answered Everard. “Cease your bawling145. Turn to the left, and you will meet me.”
Guided by his voice, Wildrake soon appeared, with a light in one hand, and his drawn sword in the other. “Where have you been?” he said —“What has detained you? — Here are Bletson and the brute146 Desborough terrified out of their lives, and Harrison raving147 mad, because the devil will not be civil enough to rise to fight him in single duello.”
“Saw or heard you nothing as you came along?” said Everard.
“Nothing,” said his friend, “excepting that when I first entered this cursed ruinous labyrinth148, the light was struck out of my hand, as if by a switch, which obliged me to return for another.”
“I must come by a horse instantly, Wildrake, and another for thyself, if it be possible.”
“We can take two of those belonging to the troopers,” answered Wildrake. “But for what purpose should we run away, like rats, at this time in the evening? — Is the house falling?”
“I cannot answer you,” said the Colonel, pushing forward into a room where there were some remains149 of furniture.
Here the cavalier took a more strict view of his person, and exclaimed in wonder, “What the devil have you been fighting with, Markham, that has bedizened you after this sorry fashion?”
“Fighting!” exclaimed Everard.
“Yes,” replied his trusty attendant. “I say fighting. Look at yourself in the mirror.”
He did, and saw he was covered with dust and blood. The latter proceeded from a scratch which he had received in the throat, as he struggled to extricate150 himself. With unaffected alarm, Wildrake undid151 his friend’s collar, and with eager haste proceeded to examine the wound, his hands trembling, and his eyes glistening152 with apprehension for his benefactor’s life. When, in spite of Everard’s opposition, he had examined the hurt, and found it trifling, he resumed the natural wildness of his character, perhaps the more readily that he had felt shame in departing from it, into one which expressed more of feeling than he would be thought to possess.
“If that be the devil’s work, Mark,” said he, “the foul153 fiend’s claws are not nigh so formidable as they are represented; but no one shall say that your blood has been shed unrevenged, while Roger Wildrake was by your side. Where left you this same imp27? I will back to the field of fight, confront him with my rapier, and were his nails tenpenny nails, and his teeth as long as those of a harrow, he shall render me reason for the injury he has done you.”
“Madness — madness!” exclaimed Everard; “I had this trifling hurt by a fall — a basin and towel will wipe it away. Meanwhile, if you will ever do me kindness, get the troop-horses — command them for the service of the public, in the name of his Excellency the General. I will but wash, and join you in an instant before the gate.”
“Well, I will serve you, Everard, as a mute serves the Grand Signior, without knowing why or wherefore. But will you go without seeing these people below?”
“Without seeing any one,” said Everard; “lose no time, for God’s sake.”
He found out the non-commissioned officer, and demanded the horses in a tone of authority, to which the corporal yielded undisputed obedience154, as one well aware of Colonel Everard’s military rank and consequence. So all was in a minute or two ready for the expedition.
点击收听单词发音
1 conversion | |
n.转化,转换,转变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 animus | |
n.恶意;意图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 probity | |
n.刚直;廉洁,正直 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 commissioners | |
n.专员( commissioner的名词复数 );长官;委员;政府部门的长官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 magistrate | |
n.地方行政官,地方法官,治安官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 pastor | |
n.牧师,牧人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 untold | |
adj.数不清的,无数的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 plunder | |
vt.劫掠财物,掠夺;n.劫掠物,赃物;劫掠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 grumbled | |
抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 ); 发牢骚; 咕哝; 发哼声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 posture | |
n.姿势,姿态,心态,态度;v.作出某种姿势 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 sanctuary | |
n.圣所,圣堂,寺庙;禁猎区,保护区 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 draught | |
n.拉,牵引,拖;一网(饮,吸,阵);顿服药量,通风;v.起草,设计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 subside | |
vi.平静,平息;下沉,塌陷,沉降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 censure | |
v./n.责备;非难;责难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 refractory | |
adj.倔强的,难驾驭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 intruding | |
v.侵入,侵扰,打扰( intrude的现在分词);把…强加于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 flasks | |
n.瓶,长颈瓶, 烧瓶( flask的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 fortifying | |
筑防御工事于( fortify的现在分词 ); 筑堡于; 增强; 强化(食品) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 mansion | |
n.大厦,大楼;宅第 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 prudently | |
adv. 谨慎地,慎重地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 postpone | |
v.延期,推迟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 imp | |
n.顽童 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 superseding | |
取代,接替( supersede的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 humbled | |
adj. 卑下的,谦逊的,粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 attestation | |
n.证词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 squire | |
n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 Christians | |
n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 worthies | |
应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 ); 值得做某事; 可尊敬的; 有(某人或事物)的典型特征 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 timorous | |
adj.胆怯的,胆小的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 concealment | |
n.隐藏, 掩盖,隐瞒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 squeaks | |
n.短促的尖叫声,吱吱声( squeak的名词复数 )v.短促地尖叫( squeak的第三人称单数 );吱吱叫;告密;充当告密者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 villains | |
n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 );罪犯;(小说、戏剧等中的)反面人物;淘气鬼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 paltry | |
adj.无价值的,微不足道的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 hawk | |
n.鹰,骗子;鹰派成员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 frightful | |
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 stationary | |
adj.固定的,静止不动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 trifling | |
adj.微不足道的;没什么价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 cowardice | |
n.胆小,怯懦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 fumbling | |
n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 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: |
|
|
59 breach | |
n.违反,不履行;破裂;vt.冲破,攻破 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 philosophical | |
adj.哲学家的,哲学上的,达观的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 puff | |
n.一口(气);一阵(风);v.喷气,喘气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 dungeon | |
n.地牢,土牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 steward | |
n.乘务员,服务员;看管人;膳食管理员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 dens | |
n.牙齿,齿状部分;兽窝( den的名词复数 );窝点;休息室;书斋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 trenches | |
深沟,地沟( trench的名词复数 ); 战壕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 brandished | |
v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 );炫耀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 lodge | |
v.临时住宿,寄宿,寄存,容纳;n.传达室,小旅馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 belied | |
v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 );证明(或显示)…为虚假;辜负;就…扯谎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 garrison | |
n.卫戍部队;驻地,卫戍区;vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 apparitions | |
n.特异景象( apparition的名词复数 );幽灵;鬼;(特异景象等的)出现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 reposed | |
v.将(手臂等)靠在某人(某物)上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 ordinance | |
n.法令;条令;条例 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 brawling | |
n.争吵,喧嚷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 veneration | |
n.尊敬,崇拜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 odds | |
n.让步,机率,可能性,比率;胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 stifled | |
(使)窒息, (使)窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 ); 镇压,遏制; 堵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 winking | |
n.瞬眼,目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 reposing | |
v.将(手臂等)靠在某人(某物)上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 scoffing | |
n. 嘲笑, 笑柄, 愚弄 v. 嘲笑, 嘲弄, 愚弄, 狼吞虎咽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 qualified | |
adj.合格的,有资格的,胜任的,有限制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 scoffer | |
嘲笑者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 exclamations | |
n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 );感叹;感叹语;感叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 heeding | |
v.听某人的劝告,听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 entreaties | |
n.恳求,乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 extremity | |
n.末端,尽头;尽力;终极;极度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 conjured | |
用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 ); 祈求,恳求; 变戏法; (变魔术般地) 使…出现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 conjure | |
v.恳求,祈求;变魔术,变戏法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 distressed | |
痛苦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 gaped | |
v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 );张开,张大 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 ascertain | |
vt.发现,确定,查明,弄清 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 situated | |
adj.坐落在...的,处于某种境地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 gust | |
n.阵风,突然一阵(雨、烟等),(感情的)迸发 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 adorned | |
[计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 tattered | |
adj.破旧的,衣衫破的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 mischief | |
n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 superstitious | |
adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 whatsoever | |
adv.(用于否定句中以加强语气)任何;pron.无论什么 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 lurking | |
潜在 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 royalty | |
n.皇家,皇族 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 avenge | |
v.为...复仇,为...报仇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 rendering | |
n.表现,描写 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 artifices | |
n.灵巧( artifice的名词复数 );诡计;巧妙办法;虚伪行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 torrent | |
n.激流,洪流;爆发,(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 conflagration | |
n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 aloof | |
adj.远离的;冷淡的,漠不关心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 devoid | |
adj.全无的,缺乏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 pricked | |
刺,扎,戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 ); 刺伤; 刺痛; 使剧痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 agitate | |
vi.(for,against)煽动,鼓动;vt.搅动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 perspiration | |
n.汗水;出汗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 throbbed | |
抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 ); (心脏、脉搏等)跳动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 confinement | |
n.幽禁,拘留,监禁;分娩;限制,局限 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 inflicts | |
把…强加给,使承受,遭受( inflict的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 subdues | |
征服( subdue的第三人称单数 ); 克制; 制服 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 robust | |
adj.强壮的,强健的,粗野的,需要体力的,浓的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 affronted | |
adj.被侮辱的,被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 );相遇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 extorted | |
v.敲诈( extort的过去式和过去分词 );曲解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 ransom | |
n.赎金,赎身;v.赎回,解救 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 divest | |
v.脱去,剥除 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 regained | |
复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 ); 赢回; 重回; 复至某地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 bawling | |
v.大叫,大喊( bawl的现在分词 );放声大哭;大声叫出;叫卖(货物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 brute | |
n.野兽,兽性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 raving | |
adj.说胡话的;疯狂的,怒吼的;非常漂亮的;令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话;疯话adv.胡言乱语地;疯狂地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 labyrinth | |
n.迷宫;难解的事物;迷路 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 extricate | |
v.拯救,救出;解脱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 Undid | |
v. 解开, 复原 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 glistening | |
adj.闪耀的,反光的v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |