For many hours the tramp had held on steadily11 in the pitiless glare of the mid-June sun, and now that he saw ahead of him the spire and house-roofs and encircling trees of the village whither he was bound, a sigh of relief burst from him.
To ease his aching feet he sat down beside a moldering millstone and wiped his beaded brow with a red bandana. He did not swear, which was singular in a tramp.
Apparently12 he had but recently joined the cadging13 profession, for about him there lingered an air of respectability and the marks of a prosperity not wholly decayed. He was stout14, rubicund15 of countenance16, and he wheezed17 like a sick grampus. Watery18 gray eyes and a strawberry nose revealed the seasoned toper; thick lips and a slack mouth the sensualist. As a begging friar of med?val times he would have been altogether admirable; as a modern tramp he was out of the picture.
Clothed in a broadcloth frock-coat considerably19 the worse for wear, he wore--oddly enough for a tramp--gaiters over his gouty-looking boots. His black gloves were darned at the finger-tips, and his battered20 silk hat had been ironed and brushed with sedulous21 care. This rook-like plumage was now plentifully22 sprinkled with the white dust of travel. His gait, in spite of his blistered23 feet, was dignified24, and his manners were imposing25.
The road was lonely, likewise the heath. There was no one in sight, not even a returning plowman; but the recumbent wayfarer26 could hear, mellowed27 by distance, the bells of homing cows. Beasts as they were, he envied them. They at least had a place to sleep in for the night; he was without a home, without even the necessary money to procure28 shelter. Luckily it was summer-time, dry and warm. Also the tramp affected29 the philosopher.
"This," he remarked, eying a sixpence extracted from the knotted corner of his handkerchief, "is a drink--two drinks if I take beer, which is gouty. But it is not a meal nor a bed. No! one drink, and a morsel30 of bread-and-cheese. But the bed! Ah!" He stared at the coin with a sigh, as though he hoped it would swell31 into a shilling. It did not, and he sighed again. "Shall I have good luck in this place?" cried he. "Heads I shall, tails I shan't." The coin spun32 and fell heads. "Ha!" said the tramp, getting on to his feet, "this must be seen to. I fly to good fortune on willing feet," and he resumed his trudging33.
A quarter of an hour brought him to the encircling wood. He passed beyond pine and larch34 and elm into a cozy35 little village with one street. This was broken in the center by an expanse of green turf surrounded by red-roofed houses, amongst them--as he saw from the swinging sign--a public-house, called, quaintly36 enough, the Good Samaritan.
"Scriptural," said the stranger--"possibly charitable. Let us see." He strode forward into the taproom.
In the oiliest of tones he inquired for the landlord. But in this case, it appeared, there was no landlord, for a vixenish little woman, lean as a cricket and as shrill37, bounced out with the information that she, Mrs. Timber, was the landlady38. Her husband, she snapped out, was dead. To the tramp this hostess appeared less promising39 than the seductive sign, and he quailed40 somewhat at the sight of her. However, with a brazen41 assurance born of habit, he put a bold face on it, peremptorily42 demanding bread, cheese, and ale. The request for a bed he left in abeyance43, for besides the vixenish Mrs. Timber there hovered44 around a stalwart pot-boy, whose rolled-up sleeves revealed a biceps both admirable and formidable.
"Bread, cheese, and ale," repeated the landlady, with a sharp glance at her guest's clerical dress, "for this. And who may you be, sir?" she asked, with a world of sarcasm45 expended46 on the "sir."
"My name is Cicero Gramp. I am a professor of elocution and eloquence47."
"Ho! a play-actor?" Mrs. Timber became more disdainful than ever.
"Not at all; I am not on the boards. I recite to the best families. The Bishop48 of Idlechester has complimented me on my----"
"Here's the bread-and-cheese," interrupted the landlady, "likewise the beer. Sixpence!"
Very reluctantly Mr. Gramp produced his last remaining coin. She dropped it into a capacious pocket, and retired49 without vouchsafing50 him another word. Cicero, somewhat discouraged by this reception, congratulated himself that the night was fine for out-of-door slumber51. He ensconced himself in a corner with his frugal52 supper, and listened to the chatter53 going on around him. It appeared to be concerned with the funeral of a local magnate. Despite the prophecy of the coin, now in Mrs. Timber's pocket, Cicero failed to see how he could extract good fortune out of his present position. However, he listened; some chance word might mean money.
"Ah! 'tis a fine dry airy vault54," said a lean man who proved to be a stonemason. "Never built a finer, I didn't, nor my mates neither. An' Muster55 Marlow'll have it all to 'isself."
"Such a situation!" croaked56 another. "Bang opposite the Lady Chapel57! An' the view from that there vault! I don't know as any corp 'ud require a finer."
"Mr. Marlow'll be lonely by himself," sighed a buxom58 woman; "there's room for twenty coffins59, an' only one in the vault. 'Tain't natural-like."
"Well," chimed in the village schoolmaster, "'twill soon fill. There's Miss Marlow."
"Dratted nonsense!" cried Mrs. Timber, making a dash into the company with a tankard of beer in each hand. "Miss Sophy'll marry Mr. Thorold, won't she? An' he, as the Squire60 of Heathton, 'as a family vault, ain't he? She'll sleep beside him as his wife, lawfully61 begotten62."
"The Thorolds' vault is crowded," objected the stonemason. "Why, there's three-hundred-year dead folk there! A very old gentry63 lot, the Thorolds."
"Older than your Marlows!" snapped Mrs. Timber. "Who was he afore he came to take the Moat House five year ago? Came from nowhere--a tree without a root."
The schoolmaster contradicted.
"Nay64, he came from Africa, I know--from Mashonaland, which is said to be the Ophir of King Solomon. And Mr. Marlow was a millionaire!"
"Much good his money'll do him now," groaned65 the buxom woman, who was a Dissenter66. "Ah! Dives in torment67."
"You've no call to say that, Mrs. Berry. Mr. Marlow wasn't a bad man."
"He was charitable, I don't deny, an' went to church regular," assented68 Mrs. Berry; "but he died awful sudden. Seems like a judgment69 for something he'd done."
"He died quietly," said the schoolmaster. "Dr. Warrender told me all about it--a kind of fit at ten o'clock last Thursday, and on Friday night he passed away as a sleeping child. He was not even sufficiently70 conscious to say good-by to Miss Sophy."
"Ah, poor girl! she's gone to the seaside with Miss Parsh to nurse her sorrow."
"It will soon pass--soon pass," observed the schoolmaster, waving his pipe. "The young don't think much of death. Miss Sophy's rich, too--rich as the Queen of Sheba, and she will marry Mr. Thorold in a few months. Funeral knells71 will give way to wedding-bells, Mrs. Berry."
"Ah!" sighed Mrs. Berry, feeling she was called upon for an appropriate sentiment; "you may say so, Mr. Stack. Such is life!"
Cicero, munching72 his bread-and-cheese, felt that his imposing personality was being neglected, and seized upon what he deemed his opportunity.
"If this company will permit," he said, "I propose now to give a recitation apropos73 of the present melancholy74 event. Need I say I refer to the lamented75 death of Mr. Marlow?"
"I'll have no godless mumming here," said Mrs. Timber firmly. "Besides, what do you know about Mr. Marlow?"
Whereupon Cicero lied lustily to impress the bumpkins, basing his fiction upon such facts as his ears had enabled him to come by.
"Marlow!" he wailed76, drawing forth77 his red bandana for effect. "Did I not know him as I know myself? Were we not boys together till he went to Africa?"
"Perhaps you can tell us about Mr. Marlow," said the schoolmaster eagerly. "None of us knows exactly who he was. He appeared here with his daughter some five years ago, and took the Moat House. He was rich, and people said he had made his riches in South Africa."
"He did! he did!" said Cicero, deeply affected. "Millions he was worth--millions! I came hither to see him, and I arrive to find the fond friend of my youth dead. Oh, Jonathan, my brother Jonathan!"
"His name was Richard," said Mrs. Timber suspiciously.
"I know it, I know it. I use the appellation78 Jonathan merely in illustration of the close friendship which was between us. I am David."
"H'm!" snorted Mrs. Timber, eying him closely, "and who was Mr. Marlow?"
This leading question perplexed79 Mr. Gramp not a little, for he knew nothing about the man.
"What!" he cried, with simulated horror. "Reveal the secrets of the dead? Never! never!"
"Secrets?" repeated the lean stonemason eagerly. "Ah! I always thought Mr. Marlow had 'em. He looked over his shoulder too often for my liking80. An' there was a look on his face frequent which pointed81, I may say, to a violent death."
"Ah! say not that my friend Dick Marlow came to an untimely end."
This outcry came from Cicero; it was answered by Mrs. Timber.
"He died of a fit," she said tartly82, "and that quietly enough, considering as Dr. Warrender can testify. But now we've talked enough, an' I'm going to lock up; so get out, all of you!"
In a few minutes the taproom was cleared and the lights out. Cicero, greatly depressed83, lingered in the porch, wondering how to circumvent84 the dragon.
"Well," snapped that amiable85 beast, "what are you waitin' for?"
"You couldn't give me a bed for the night?"
"Course I could, for a shillin'."
"I haven't a shilling, I regret to say."
"Then you'd best get one, or go without your bed," replied the lady, and banged the door in his face.
Under this last indignity86 even Cicero's philosophy gave way, and he launched an ecclesiastic87 curse at the inhospitable inn.
Fortunately the weather was warm and tranquil88. Not a breath of wind stirred the trees. The darkling earth was silent--silent as the watching stars. Even the sordid89 soul of the vagabond was stirred by the solemn majesty90 of the sky. He removed his battered hat and looked up.
"The heavens are telling the glory of God," he said; but, not recollecting91 the rest of the text, he resumed his search for a resting-place.
It was now only between nine and ten o'clock, yet, as he wandered down the silent street, he could see no glimmer92 of a light in any window. His feet took him, half unconsciously as it were, by the path leading towards the tapering spire. He went on through a belt of pines which surrounded the church, and came suddenly upon the graveyard93, populous94 with the forgotten dead--at least, he judged they were forgotten by the state of the tombstones.
On the hither side he came upon a circular chapel, with lance-shaped windows and marvelous decoration wrought95 in gray-stone on the outer walls. Some distance off rose a low wall, encircling the graveyard, and beyond the belt of pines through which he had just passed stretched the league-long herbage of the moor. He guessed this must be the Lady Chapel.
Between the building and the low wall he noticed a large tomb of white marble, surmounted96 by a winged angel with a trumpet97. "Dick Marlow's tomb," he surmised98. Then he proceeded to walk round it as that of his own familiar friend, for he had already half persuaded himself into some such belief.
But he realized very soon that he had not come hither for sight-seeing, for his limbs ached, and his feet burned, and his eyes were heavy with sleep. He rolled along towards a secluded99 corner, where the round of the Lady Chapel curved into the main wall of the church. There he found a grassy100 nook, warm and dry. He removed his gloves with great care, placed them in his silk hat, and then took off his boots and loosened his clothes. Finally he settled himself down amid the grass, put a hand up either coat-sleeve for warmth, and was soon wrapped in a sound slumber.
He slept on undisturbed until one o'clock, when--as say out-of-door observers--the earth turns in her slumber. This vagrant101, feeling as it were the stir of Nature, turned too. A lowing of cows came from the moor beyond the pines. A breath of cool air swept through the branches, and the somber102 boughs103 swayed like the plumes104 of a hearse. Across the face of the sky ran a shiver. He heard distinctly what he had not noticed before, the gush105 of running water. He roused himself and sat up alert, and strained his hearing. What was it he heard now? He listened and strained again. Voices surely! Men's voices!
There could be no mistake. Voices he heard, though he could not catch the words they said. A tremor106 shook his whole body. Then, curiosity getting the better of his fear, he wriggled107 forward flat on his stomach until he was in such a position that he could peer round the corner of the Lady Chapel. Here he saw a sight which scared him.
Against the white wall of the mausoleum bulked two figures, one tall, the other short. The shorter carried a lantern. They stood on the threshold of the iron door, and the tall man was listening. They were nearer now, so that he could hear their talk very plainly.
"All is quiet," said the taller man. "No one will suspect. We'll get him away easily."
Then Cicero heard the key grate in the lock, saw the door open and the men disappear into the tomb. He was sick with terror, and was minded to make a clean bolt of it; but with the greatest effort he controlled his fears and remained. There might be money in this adventure.
In ten minutes the men came out carrying a dark form between them, as Cicero guessed, the dead body of Richard Marlow. They set down their burden, made fast the door, and took up again the sinister108 load. He saw them carry it towards the low stone wall. Over this they lifted it, climbed over themselves, and disappeared into the pine-woods.
Cicero waited until he could no longer hear the rustle109 of their progress; then he crept cautiously forward and tried the door of the tomb. It was fast locked.
"Resurrection-men! body-snatchers!" he moaned.
He felt shaken to his very soul by the ghastliness of the whole proceeding110. Then suddenly the awkwardness of his own position, if by chance any one should find him there, rushed in upon his mind, and, without so much as another glance, he made off as quickly as he could in the opposite direction.
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1
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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notched
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| a.有凹口的，有缺口的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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gnats
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| n.叮人小虫( gnat的名词复数 ) | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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11
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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12
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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cadging
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| v.乞讨，乞得，索取( cadge的现在分词 ) | |
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rubicund
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| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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wheezed
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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19
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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21
sedulous
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| adj.勤勉的，努力的 | |
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plentifully
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| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
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23
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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24
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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wayfarer
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| n.旅人 | |
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mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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28
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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32
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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33
trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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34
larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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quaintly
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| adv.古怪离奇地 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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43
abeyance
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| n.搁置，缓办，中止，产权未定 | |
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44
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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46
expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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47
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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48
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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49
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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50
vouchsafing
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的现在分词 )；允诺 | |
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51
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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52
frugal
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| adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的 | |
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53
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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54
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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55
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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56
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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57
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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58
buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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59
coffins
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| n.棺材( coffin的名词复数 )；使某人早亡[死，完蛋，垮台等]之物 | |
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60
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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61
lawfully
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| adv.守法地，合法地；合理地 | |
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62
begotten
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| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
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63
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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64
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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65
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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66
dissenter
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| n.反对者 | |
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67
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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68
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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70
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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71
knells
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| n.丧钟声( knell的名词复数 )；某事物结束的象征 | |
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72
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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73
apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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74
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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75
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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78
appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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79
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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80
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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81
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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82
tartly
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| adv.辛辣地，刻薄地 | |
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83
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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84
circumvent
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| vt.环绕，包围；对…用计取胜，智胜 | |
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85
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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86
indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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87
ecclesiastic
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| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
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88
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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89
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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90
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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91
recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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92
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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93
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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94
populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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95
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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96
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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97
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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98
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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99
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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100
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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101
vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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102
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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103
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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104
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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105
gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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106
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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107
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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108
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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109
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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110
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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