Nicholas, accompanied by Smike, sallies forth1 toseek his Fortune. He encounters Mr VincentCrummles; and who he was, is herein mademanifest.
The whole capital which Nicholas found himself entitled to,either in possession, reversion, remainder, or expectancy,after paying his rent and settling with the broker2 fromwhom he had hired his poor furniture, did not exceed, by morethan a few halfpence, the sum of twenty shillings. And yet hehailed the morning on which he had resolved to quit London, witha light heart, and sprang from his bed with an elasticity4 of spiritwhich is happily the lot of young persons, or the world wouldnever be stocked with old ones.
It was a cold, dry, foggy morning in early spring. A few meagreshadows flitted to and fro in the misty5 streets, and occasionallythere loomed6 through the dull vapour, the heavy outline of somehackney coach wending homewards, which, drawing slowlynearer, rolled jangling by, scattering7 the thin crust of frost from itswhitened roof, and soon was lost again in the cloud. At intervalswere heard the tread of slipshod feet, and the chilly8 cry of the poorsweep as he crept, shivering, to his early toil9; the heavy footfall ofthe official watcher of the night, pacing slowly up and down andcursing the tardy10 hours that still intervened between him andsleep; the rambling11 of ponderous12 carts and waggons13; the roll of thelighter vehicles which carried buyers and sellers to the different markets; the sound of ineffectual knocking at the doors of heavysleepers—all these noises fell upon the ear from time to time, butall seemed muffled15 by the fog, and to be rendered almost asindistinct to the ear as was every object to the sight. The sluggishdarkness thickened as the day came on; and those who had thecourage to rise and peep at the gloomy street from their curtainedwindows, crept back to bed again, and coiled themselves up tosleep.
Before even these indications of approaching morning were rifein busy London, Nicholas had made his way alone to the city, andstood beneath the windows of his mother’s house. It was dull andbare to see, but it had light and life for him; for there was at leastone heart within its old walls to which insult or dishonour17 wouldbring the same blood rushing, that flowed in his own veins18.
He crossed the road, and raised his eyes to the window of theroom where he knew his sister slept. It was closed and dark. ‘Poorgirl,’ thought Nicholas, ‘she little thinks who lingers here!’ Helooked again, and felt, for the moment, almost vexed19 that Kate wasnot there to exchange one word at parting. ‘Good God!’ hethought, suddenly correcting himself, ‘what a boy I am!’
‘It is better as it is,’ said Nicholas, after he had lounged on, afew paces, and returned to the same spot. ‘When I left thembefore, and could have said goodbye a thousand times if I hadchosen, I spared them the pain of leave-taking, and why not now?’
As he spoke20, some fancied motion of the curtain almost persuadedhim, for the instant, that Kate was at the window, and by one ofthose strange contradictions of feeling which are common to us all,he shrunk involuntarily into a doorway21, that she might not seehim. He smiled at his own weakness; said ‘God bless them!’ and walked away with a lighter14 step.
Smike was anxiously expecting him when he reached his oldlodgings, and so was Newman, who had expended22 a day’s incomein a can of rum and milk to prepare them for the journey. Theyhad tied up the luggage, Smike shouldered it, and away they went,with Newman Noggs in company; for he had insisted on walkingas far as he could with them, overnight.
‘Which way?’ asked Newman, wistfully.
‘To Kingston first,’ replied Nicholas.
‘And where afterwards?’ asked Newman. ‘Why won’t you tellme?’
‘Because I scarcely know myself, good friend,’ rejoinedNicholas, laying his hand upon his shoulder; ‘and if I did, I haveneither plan nor prospect23 yet, and might shift my quarters ahundred times before you could possibly communicate with me.’
‘I am afraid you have some deep scheme in your head,’ saidNewman, doubtfully.
‘So deep,’ replied his young friend, ‘that even I can’t fathom24 it.
Whatever I resolve upon, depend upon it I will write you soon.’
‘You won’t forget?’ said Newman.
‘I am not very likely to,’ rejoined Nicholas. ‘I have not so manyfriends that I shall grow confused among the number, and forgetmy best one.’
Occupied in such discourse25, they walked on for a couple ofhours, as they might have done for a couple of days if Nicholas hadnot sat himself down on a stone by the wayside, and resolutelydeclared his intention of not moving another step until NewmanNoggs turned back. Having pleaded ineffectually first for anotherhalf-mile, and afterwards for another quarter, Newman was fain to comply, and to shape his course towards Golden Square, afterinterchanging many hearty26 and affectionate farewells, and manytimes turning back to wave his hat to the two wayfarers27 when theyhad become mere28 specks29 in the distance.
‘Now listen to me, Smike,’ said Nicholas, as they trudged30 withstout hearts onwards. ‘We are bound for Portsmouth.’
Smike nodded his head and smiled, but expressed no otheremotion; for whether they had been bound for Portsmouth or PortRoyal would have been alike to him, so they had been boundtogether.
‘I don’t know much of these matters,’ resumed Nicholas; ‘butPortsmouth is a seaport32 town, and if no other employment is to beobtained, I should think we might get on board some ship. I amyoung and active, and could be useful in many ways. So couldyou.’
‘I hope so,’ replied Smike. ‘When I was at that—you knowwhere I mean?’
‘Yes, I know,’ said Nicholas. ‘You needn’t name the place.’
‘Well, when I was there,’ resumed Smike; his eyes sparkling atthe prospect of displaying his abilities; ‘I could milk a cow, andgroom a horse, with anybody.’
‘Ha!’ said Nicholas, gravely. ‘I am afraid they don’t keep manyanimals of either kind on board ship, Smike, and even when theyhave horses, that they are not very particular about rubbing themdown; still you can learn to do something else, you know. Wherethere’s a will, there’s a way.’
‘And I am very willing,’ said Smike, brightening up again.
‘God knows you are,’ rejoined Nicholas; ‘and if you fail, it shallgo hard but I’ll do enough for us both.’
‘Do we go all the way today?’ asked Smike, after a short silence.
‘That would be too severe a trial, even for your willing legs,’
said Nicholas, with a good-humoured smile. ‘No. Godalming issome thirty and odd miles from London—as I found from a map Iborrowed—and I purpose to rest there. We must push on againtomorrow, for we are not rich enough to loiter. Let me relieve youof that bundle! Come!’
‘No, no,’ rejoined Smike, falling back a few steps. ‘Don’t ask meto give it up to you.’
‘Why not?’ asked Nicholas.
‘Let me do something for you, at least,’ said Smike. ‘You willnever let me serve you as I ought. You will never know how Ithink, day and night, of ways to please you.’
‘You are a foolish fellow to say it, for I know it well, and see it,or I should be a blind and senseless beast,’ rejoined Nicholas. ‘Letme ask you a question while I think of it, and there is no one by,’
he added, looking him steadily33 in the face. ‘Have you a goodmemory?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Smike, shaking his head sorrowfully. ‘Ithink I had once; but it’s all gone now—all gone.’
‘Why do you think you had once?’ asked Nicholas, turningquickly upon him as though the answer in some way helped outthe purport34 of his question.
‘Because I could remember, when I was a child,’ said Smike,‘but that is very, very long ago, or at least it seems so. I was alwaysconfused and giddy at that place you took me from; and couldnever remember, and sometimes couldn’t even understand, whatthey said to me. I—let me see—let me see!’
‘You are wandering now,’ said Nicholas, touching35 him on the arm.
‘No,’ replied his companion, with a vacant look ‘I was onlythinking how—’ He shivered involuntarily as he spoke.
‘Think no more of that place, for it is all over,’ retortedNicholas, fixing his eyes full upon that of his companion, whichwas fast settling into an unmeaning stupefied gaze, once habitualto him, and common even then. ‘What of the first day you went toYorkshire?’
‘Eh!’ cried the lad.
‘That was before you began to lose your recollection, you know,’
said Nicholas quietly. ‘Was the weather hot or cold?’
‘Wet,’ replied the boy. ‘Very wet. I have always said, when it hasrained hard, that it was like the night I came: and they used tocrowd round and laugh to see me cry when the rain fell heavily. Itwas like a child, they said, and that made me think of it more. Iturned cold all over sometimes, for I could see myself as I wasthen, coming in at the very same door.’
‘As you were then,’ repeated Nicholas, with assumedcarelessness; ‘how was that?’
‘Such a little creature,’ said Smike, ‘that they might have hadpity and mercy upon me, only to remember it.’
‘You didn’t find your way there, alone!’ remarked Nicholas.
‘No,’ rejoined Smike, ‘oh no.’
‘Who was with you?’
‘A man—a dark, withered36 man. I have heard them say so, at theschool, and I remembered that before. I was glad to leave him, Iwas afraid of him; but they made me more afraid of them, andused me harder too.’
‘Look at me,’ said Nicholas, wishing to attract his full attention.
‘There; don’t turn away. Do you remember no woman, no kindwoman, who hung over you once, and kissed your lips, and calledyou her child?’
‘No,’ said the poor creature, shaking his head, ‘no, never.’
‘Nor any house but that house in Yorkshire?’
‘No,’ rejoined the youth, with a melancholy38 look; ‘a room—Iremember I slept in a room, a large lonesome room at the top of ahouse, where there was a trap-door in the ceiling. I have coveredmy head with the clothes often, not to see it, for it frightened me: ayoung child with no one near at night: and I used to wonder whatwas on the other side. There was a clock too, an old clock, in onecorner. I remember that. I have never forgotten that room; forwhen I have terrible dreams, it comes back, just as it was. I seethings and people in it that I had never seen then, but there is theroom just as it used to be; that never changes.’
‘Will you let me take the bundle now?’ asked Nicholas, abruptlychanging the theme.
‘No,’ said Smike, ‘no. Come, let us walk on.’
He quickened his pace as he said this, apparently39 under theimpression that they had been standing40 still during the whole ofthe previous dialogue. Nicholas marked him closely, and everyword of this conversation remained upon his memory.
It was, by this time, within an hour of noon, and although adense vapour still enveloped41 the city they had left, as if the verybreath of its busy people hung over their schemes of gain andprofit, and found greater attraction there than in the quiet regionabove, in the open country it was clear and fair. Occasionally, insome low spots they came upon patches of mist which the sun hadnot yet driven from their strongholds; but these were soon passed, and as they laboured up the hills beyond, it was pleasant to lookdown, and see how the sluggish16 mass rolled heavily off, before thecheering influence of day. A broad, fine, honest sun lighted up thegreen pastures and dimpled water with the semblance42 of summer,while it left the travellers all the invigorating freshness of thatearly time of year. The ground seemed elastic3 under their feet; thesheep-bells were music to their ears; and exhilarated by exercise,and stimulated43 by hope, they pushed onward31 with the strength oflions. The day wore on, and all these bright colours subsided44, andassumed a quieter tint45, like young hopes softened46 down by time,or youthful features by degrees resolving into the calm andserenity of age. But they were scarcely less beautiful in their slowdecline, than they had been in their prime; for nature gives toevery time and season some beauties of its own; and from morningto night, as from the cradle to the grave, is but a succession ofchanges so gentle and easy, that we can scarcely mark theirprogress.
To Godalming they came at last, and here they bargained fortwo humble48 beds, and slept soundly. In the morning they wereastir: though not quite so early as the sun: and again afoot; if notwith all the freshness of yesterday, still, with enough of hope andspirit to bear them cheerily on.
It was a harder day’s journey than yesterday’s, for there werelong and weary hills to climb; and in journeys, as in life, it is agreat deal easier to go down hill than up. However, they kept on,with unabated perseverance49, and the hill has not yet lifted its faceto heaven that perseverance will not gain the summit of at last.
They walked upon the rim47 of the Devil’s Punch Bowl; andSmike listened with greedy interest as Nicholas read the inscription50 upon the stone which, reared upon that wild spot, tellsof a murder committed there by night. The grass on which theystood, had once been dyed with gore51; and the blood of themurdered man had run down, drop by drop, into the hollow whichgives the place its name. ‘The Devil’s Bowl,’ thought Nicholas, ashe looked into the void, ‘never held fitter liquor than that!’
Onward they kept, with steady purpose, and entered at lengthupon a wide and spacious52 tract37 of downs, with every variety oflittle hill and plain to change their verdant53 surface. Here, thereshot up, almost perpendicularly54, into the sky, a height so steep, asto be hardly accessible to any but the sheep and goats that fedupon its sides, and there, stood a mound55 of green, sloping andtapering off so delicately, and merging56 so gently into the levelground, that you could scarce define its limits. Hills swelling57 aboveeach other; and undulations shapely and uncouth58, smooth andrugged, graceful59 and grotesque60, thrown negligently61 side by side,bounded the view in each direction; while frequently, withunexpected noise, there uprose from the ground a flight of crows,who, cawing and wheeling round the nearest hills, as if uncertainof their course, suddenly poised62 themselves upon the wing andskimmed down the long vista63 of some opening valley, with thespeed of light itself.
By degrees, the prospect receded64 more and more on eitherhand, and as they had been shut out from rich and extensivescenery, so they emerged once again upon the open country. Theknowledge that they were drawing near their place of destination,gave them fresh courage to proceed; but the way had beendifficult, and they had loitered on the road, and Smike was tired.
Thus, twilight65 had already closed in, when they turned off the path to the door of a roadside inn, yet twelve miles short of Portsmouth.
‘Twelve miles,’ said Nicholas, leaning with both hands on hisstick, and looking doubtfully at Smike.
‘Twelve long miles,’ repeated the landlord.
‘Is it a good road?’ inquired Nicholas.
‘Very bad,’ said the landlord. As of course, being a landlord, hewould say.
‘I want to get on,’ observed Nicholas. hesitating. ‘I scarcelyknow what to do.’
‘Don’t let me influence you,’ rejoined the landlord. ‘I wouldn’tgo on if it was me.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ asked Nicholas, with the same uncertainty66.
‘Not if I knew when I was well off,’ said the landlord. Andhaving said it he pulled up his apron67, put his hands into hispockets, and, taking a step or two outside the door, looked downthe dark road with an assumption of great indifference68.
A glance at the toil-worn face of Smike determined69 Nicholas, sowithout any further consideration he made up his mind to staywhere he was.
The landlord led them into the kitchen, and as there was a goodfire he remarked that it was very cold. If there had happened to bea bad one he would have observed that it was very warm.
‘What can you give us for supper?’ was Nicholas’s naturalquestion.
‘Why—what would you like?’ was the landlord’s no less naturalanswer.
Nicholas suggested cold meat, but there was no cold meat—poached eggs, but there were no eggs—mutton chops, but therewasn’t a mutton chop within three miles, though there had been more last week than they knew what to do with, and would be anextraordinary supply the day after tomorrow.
‘Then,’ said Nicholas, ‘I must leave it entirely70 to you, as I wouldhave done, at first, if you had allowed me.’
‘Why, then I’ll tell you what,’ rejoined the landlord. ‘There’s agentleman in the parlour that’s ordered a hot beef-steak puddingand potatoes, at nine. There’s more of it than he can manage, and Ihave very little doubt that if I ask leave, you can sup with him. I’lldo that, in a minute.’
‘No, no,’ said Nicholas, detaining him. ‘I would rather not. I—atleast—pshaw! why cannot I speak out? Here; you see that I amtravelling in a very humble manner, and have made my way hitheron foot. It is more than probable, I think, that the gentleman maynot relish71 my company; and although I am the dusty figure yousee, I am too proud to thrust myself into his.’
‘Lord love you,’ said the landlord, ‘it’s only Mr Crummles; heisn’t particular.’
‘Is he not?’ asked Nicholas, on whose mind, to tell the truth, theprospect of the savoury pudding was making some impression.
‘Not he,’ replied the landlord. ‘He’ll like your way of talking, Iknow. But we’ll soon see all about that. Just wait a minute.’
The landlord hurried into the parlour, without staying forfurther permission, nor did Nicholas strive to prevent him: wiselyconsidering that supper, under the circumstances, was too seriousa matter to be trifled with. It was not long before the hostreturned, in a condition of much excitement.
‘All right,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I knew he would. You’ll seesomething rather worth seeing, in there. Ecod, how they are a-going of it!’
There was no time to inquire to what this exclamation72, whichwas delivered in a very rapturous tone, referred; for he hadalready thrown open the door of the room; into which Nicholas,followed by Smike with the bundle on his shoulder (he carried itabout with him as vigilantly73 as if it had been a sack of gold),straightway repaired.
Nicholas was prepared for something odd, but not forsomething quite so odd as the sight he encountered. At the upperend of the room, were a couple of boys, one of them very tall andthe other very short, both dressed as sailors—or at least astheatrical sailors, with belts, buckles75, pigtails, and pistolscomplete—fighting what is called in play-bills a terrific combat,with two of those short broad-swords with basket hilts which arecommonly used at our minor76 theatres. The short boy had gained agreat advantage over the tall boy, who was reduced to mortalstrait, and both were overlooked by a large heavy man, perchedagainst the corner of a table, who emphatically adjured77 them tostrike a little more fire out of the swords, and they couldn’t fail tobring the house down, on the very first night.
‘Mr Vincent Crummles,’ said the landlord with an air of greatdeference. ‘This is the young gentleman.’
Mr Vincent Crummles received Nicholas with an inclination78 ofthe head, something between the courtesy of a Roman emperorand the nod of a pot companion; and bade the landlord shut thedoor and begone.
‘There’s a picture,’ said Mr Crummles, motioning Nicholas notto advance and spoil it. ‘The little ’un has him; if the big ’undoesn’t knock under, in three seconds, he’s a dead man. Do thatagain, boys.’
The two combatants went to work afresh, and chopped awayuntil the swords emitted a shower of sparks: to the greatsatisfaction of Mr Crummles, who appeared to consider this a verygreat point indeed. The engagement commenced with about twohundred chops administered by the short sailor and the tall sailoralternately, without producing any particular result, until theshort sailor was chopped down on one knee; but this was nothingto him, for he worked himself about on the one knee with theassistance of his left hand, and fought most desperately79 until thetall sailor chopped his sword out of his grasp. Now, the inferencewas, that the short sailor, reduced to this extremity80, would give inat once and cry quarter, but, instead of that, he all of a suddendrew a large pistol from his belt and presented it at the face of thetall sailor, who was so overcome at this (not expecting it) that helet the short sailor pick up his sword and begin again. Then, thechopping recommenced, and a variety of fancy chops wereadministered on both sides; such as chops dealt with the left hand,and under the leg, and over the right shoulder, and over the left;and when the short sailor made a vigorous cut at the tall sailor’slegs, which would have shaved them clean off if it had taken effect,the tall sailor jumped over the short sailor’s sword, wherefore tobalance the matter, and make it all fair, the tall sailor administeredthe same cut, and the short sailor jumped over HIS sword. Afterthis, there was a good deal of dodging81 about, and hitching82 up ofthe inexpressibles in the absence of braces83, and then the shortsailor (who was the moral character evidently, for he always hadthe best of it) made a violent demonstration84 and closed with thetall sailor, who, after a few unavailing struggles, went down, andexpired in great torture as the short sailor put his foot upon his breast, and bored a hole in him through and through.
‘That’ll be a double encore if you take care, boys,’ said MrCrummles. ‘You had better get your wind now and change yourclothes.’
Having addressed these words to the combatants, he salutedNicholas, who then observed that the face of Mr Crummles wasquite proportionate in size to his body; that he had a very fullunder-lip, a hoarse85 voice, as though he were in the habit ofshouting very much, and very short black hair, shaved off nearlyto the crown of his head—to admit (as he afterwards learnt) of hismore easily wearing character wigs86 of any shape or pattern.
‘What did you think of that, sir?’ inquired Mr Crummles.
‘Very good, indeed—capital,’ answered Nicholas.
‘You won’t see such boys as those very often, I think,’ said MrCrummles.
Nicholas assented—observing that if they were a little bettermatch—‘Match!’ cried Mr Crummles.
‘I mean if they were a little more of a size,’ said Nicholas,explaining himself.
‘Size!’ repeated Mr Crummles; ‘why, it’s the essence of thecombat that there should be a foot or two between them. How areyou to get up the sympathies of the audience in a legitimatemanner, if there isn’t a little man contending against a big one?—unless there’s at least five to one, and we haven’t hands enough forthat business in our company.’
‘I see,’ replied Nicholas. ‘I beg your pardon. That didn’t occur tome, I confess.’
‘It’s the main point,’ said Mr Crummles. ‘I open at Portsmouth the day after tomorrow. If you’re going there, look into the theatre,and see how that’ll tell.’
Nicholas promised to do so, if he could, and drawing a chairnear the fire, fell into conversation with the manager at once. Hewas very talkative and communicative, stimulated perhaps, notonly by his natural disposition87, but by the spirits and water hesipped very plentifully88, or the snuff he took in large quantitiesfrom a piece of whitey-brown paper in his waistcoat pocket. Helaid open his affairs without the smallest reserve, and descanted atsome length upon the merits of his company, and theacquirements of his family; of both of which, the two broad-swordboys formed an honourable90 portion. There was to be a gathering,it seemed, of the different ladies and gentlemen at Portsmouth onthe morrow, whither the father and sons were proceeding91 (not forthe regular season, but in the course of a wandering speculation),after fulfilling an engagement at Guildford with the greatestapplause.
‘You are going that way?’ asked the manager.
‘Ye-yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘Do you know the town at all?’ inquired the manager, whoseemed to consider himself entitled to the same degree ofconfidence as he had himself exhibited.
‘No,’ replied Nicholas.
‘Never there?’
‘Never.’
Mr Vincent Crummles gave a short dry cough, as much as tosay, ‘If you won’t be communicative, you won’t;’ and took so manypinches of snuff from the piece of paper, one after another, thatNicholas quite wondered where it all went to.
While he was thus engaged, Mr Crummles looked, from time totime, with great interest at Smike, with whom he had appearedconsiderably struck from the first. He had now fallen asleep, andwas nodding in his chair.
‘Excuse my saying so,’ said the manager, leaning over toNicholas, and sinking his voice, ‘but what a capital countenanceyour friend has got!’
‘Poor fellow!’ said Nicholas, with a half-smile, ‘I wish it were alittle more plump, and less haggard.’
‘Plump!’ exclaimed the manager, quite horrified93, ‘you’d spoil itfor ever.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Think so, sir! Why, as he is now,’ said the manager, striking hisknee emphatically; ‘without a pad upon his body, and hardly atouch of paint upon his face, he’d make such an actor for thestarved business as was never seen in this country. Only let him betolerably well up in the Apothecary94 in Romeo and Juliet, with theslightest possible dab95 of red on the tip of his nose, and he’d becertain of three rounds the moment he put his head out of thepracticable door in the front grooves96 O.P.’
‘You view him with a professional eye,’ said Nicholas, laughing.
‘And well I may,’ rejoined the manager. ‘I never saw a youngfellow so regularly cut out for that line, since I’ve been in theprofession. And I played the heavy children when I was eighteenmonths old.’
The appearance of the beef-steak pudding, which came insimultaneously with the junior Vincent Crummleses, turned theconversation to other matters, and indeed, for a time, stopped italtogether. These two young gentlemen wielded97 their knives and forks with scarcely less address than their broad-swords, and asthe whole party were quite as sharp set as either class of weapons,there was no time for talking until the supper had been disposedof.
The Master Crummleses had no sooner swallowed the lastprocurable morsel98 of food, than they evinced, by various half-suppressed yawns and stretchings of their limbs, an obviousinclination to retire for the night, which Smike had betrayed stillmore strongly: he having, in the course of the meal, fallen asleepseveral times while in the very act of eating. Nicholas thereforeproposed that they should break up at once, but the managerwould by no means hear of it; vowing99 that he had promisedhimself the pleasure of inviting100 his new acquaintance to share abowl of punch, and that if he declined, he should deem it veryunhandsome behaviour.
‘Let them go,’ said Mr Vincent Crummles, ‘and we’ll have itsnugly and cosily101 together by the fire.’
Nicholas was not much disposed to sleep—being in truth tooanxious—so, after a little demur102, he accepted the offer, and havingexchanged a shake of the hand with the young Crummleses, andthe manager having on his part bestowed103 a most affectionatebenediction on Smike, he sat himself down opposite to thatgentleman by the fireside to assist in emptying the bowl, whichsoon afterwards appeared, steaming in a manner which was quiteexhilarating to behold104, and sending forth a most grateful andinviting fragrance105.
But, despite the punch and the manager, who told a variety ofstories, and smoked tobacco from a pipe, and inhaled106 it in theshape of snuff, with a most astonishing power, Nicholas was absent and dispirited. His thoughts were in his old home, andwhen they reverted107 to his present condition, the uncertainty of themorrow cast a gloom upon him, which his utmost efforts wereunable to dispel108. His attention wandered; although he heard themanager’s voice, he was deaf to what he said; and when MrVincent Crummles concluded the history of some long adventurewith a loud laugh, and an inquiry109 what Nicholas would have doneunder the same circumstances, he was obliged to make the bestapology in his power, and to confess his entire ignorance of all hehad been talking about.
‘Why, so I saw,’ observed Mr Crummles. ‘You’re uneasy in yourmind. What’s the matter?’
Nicholas could not refrain from smiling at the abruptness110 of thequestion; but, thinking it scarcely worth while to parry it, ownedthat he was under some apprehensions111 lest he might not succeedin the object which had brought him to that part of the country.
‘And what’s that?’ asked the manager.
‘Getting something to do which will keep me and my poorfellow-traveller in the common necessaries of life,’ said Nicholas.
‘That’s the truth. You guessed it long ago, I dare say, so I may aswell have the credit of telling it you with a good grace.’
‘What’s to be got to do at Portsmouth more than anywhereelse?’ asked Mr Vincent Crummles, melting the sealing-wax on thestem of his pipe in the candle, and rolling it out afresh with hislittle finger.
‘There are many vessels112 leaving the port, I suppose,’ repliedNicholas. ‘I shall try for a berth113 in some ship or other. There ismeat and drink there at all events.’
‘Salt meat and new rum; pease-pudding and chaff-biscuits,’ said the manager, taking a whiff at his pipe to keep it alight, andreturning to his work of embellishment.
‘One may do worse than that,’ said Nicholas. ‘I can rough it, Ibelieve, as well as most young men of my age and previous habits.’
‘You need be able to,’ said the manager, ‘if you go on boardship; but you won’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because there’s not a skipper or mate that would think youworth your salt, when he could get a practised hand,’ replied themanager; ‘and they as plentiful89 there, as the oysters114 in the streets.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Nicholas, alarmed by thisprediction, and the confident tone in which it had been uttered.
‘Men are not born able seamen115. They must be reared, I suppose?’
Mr Vincent Crummles nodded his head. ‘They must; but not atyour age, or from young gentlemen like you.’
There was a pause. The countenance92 of Nicholas fell, and hegazed ruefully at the fire.
‘Does no other profession occur to you, which a young man ofyour figure and address could take up easily, and see the world toadvantage in?’ asked the manager.
‘No,’ said Nicholas, shaking his head.
‘Why, then, I’ll tell you one,’ said Mr Crummles, throwing hispipe into the fire, and raising his voice. ‘The stage.’
‘The stage!’ cried Nicholas, in a voice almost as loud.
‘The theatrical74 profession,’ said Mr Vincent Crummles. ‘I am inthe theatrical profession myself, my wife is in the theatricalprofession, my children are in the theatrical profession. I had adog that lived and died in it from a puppy; and my chaise-ponygoes on, in Timour the Tartar. I’ll bring you out, and your friend too. Say the word. I want a novelty.’
‘I don’t know anything about it,’ rejoined Nicholas, whosebreath had been almost taken away by this sudden proposal. ‘Inever acted a part in my life, except at school.’
‘There’s genteel comedy in your walk and manner, juveniletragedy in your eye, and touch-and-go farce116 in your laugh,’ said MrVincent Crummles. ‘You’ll do as well as if you had thought ofnothing else but the lamps, from your birth downwards117.’
Nicholas thought of the small amount of small change thatwould remain in his pocket after paying the tavern118 bill; and hehesitated.
‘You can be useful to us in a hundred ways,’ said Mr Crummles.
‘Think what capital bills a man of your education could write forthe shop-windows.’
‘Well, I think I could manage that department,’ said Nicholas.
‘To be sure you could,’ replied Mr Crummles. ‘“For furtherparticulars see small hand-bills”—we might have half a volume inevery one of ’em. Pieces too; why, you could write us a piece tobring out the whole strength of the company, whenever wewanted one.’
‘I am not quite so confident about that,’ replied Nicholas. ‘But Idare say I could scribble119 something now and then, that would suityou.’
‘We’ll have a new show-piece out directly,’ said the manager.
‘Let me see—peculiar resources of this establishment—new andsplendid scenery—you must manage to introduce a real pump andtwo washing-tubs.’
‘Into the piece?’ said Nicholas.
‘Yes,’ replied the manager. ‘I bought ’em cheap, at a sale the other day, and they’ll come in admirably. That’s the London plan.
They look up some dresses, and properties, and have a piecewritten to fit ’em. Most of the theatres keep an author on purpose.’
‘Indeed!’ cried Nicholas.
‘Oh, yes,’ said the manager; ‘a common thing. It’ll look very wellin the bills in separate lines—Real pump!—Splendid tubs!—Greatattraction! You don’t happen to be anything of an artist, do you?’
‘That is not one of my accomplishments,’ rejoined Nicholas.
‘Ah! Then it can’t be helped,’ said the manager. ‘If you hadbeen, we might have had a large woodcut of the last scene for theposters, showing the whole depth of the stage, with the pump andtubs in the middle; but, however, if you’re not, it can’t be helped.’
‘What should I get for all this?’ inquired Nicholas, after a fewmoments’ reflection. ‘Could I live by it?’
‘Live by it!’ said the manager. ‘Like a prince! With your ownsalary, and your friend’s, and your writings, you’d make—ah!
you’d make a pound a week!’
‘You don’t say so!’
‘I do indeed, and if we had a run of good houses, nearly doublethe money.’
Nicholas shrugged120 his shoulders; but sheer destitution121 wasbefore him; and if he could summon fortitude122 to undergo theextremes of want and hardship, for what had he rescued hishelpless charge if it were only to bear as hard a fate as that fromwhich he had wrested123 him? It was easy to think of seventy miles asnothing, when he was in the same town with the man who hadtreated him so ill and roused his bitterest thoughts; but now, itseemed far enough. What if he went abroad, and his mother orKate were to die the while?
Without more deliberation, he hastily declared that it was abargain, and gave Mr Vincent Crummles his hand upon it.
收听单词发音 |
1
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
broker
|
|
| n.中间人，经纪人；v.作为中间人来安排 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
elastic
|
|
| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
elasticity
|
|
| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
loomed
|
|
| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
scattering
|
|
| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
tardy
|
|
| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
rambling
|
|
| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
ponderous
|
|
| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
waggons
|
|
| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
sluggish
|
|
| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
dishonour
|
|
| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
vexed
|
|
| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
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： |
|
|
|
|
21
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
expended
|
|
| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
fathom
|
|
| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
wayfarers
|
|
| n.旅人，（尤指）徒步旅行者( wayfarer的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
specks
|
|
| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
trudged
|
|
| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
seaport
|
|
| n.海港，港口，港市 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
purport
|
|
| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
tract
|
|
| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
semblance
|
|
| n.外貌，外表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
stimulated
|
|
| a.刺激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
subsided
|
|
| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
tint
|
|
| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
rim
|
|
| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
perseverance
|
|
| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
inscription
|
|
| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
gore
|
|
| n.凝血，血污；v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破；缝以补裆；顶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
spacious
|
|
| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
verdant
|
|
| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
perpendicularly
|
|
| adv. 垂直地, 笔直地, 纵向地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
mound
|
|
| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
merging
|
|
| 合并（分类） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
uncouth
|
|
| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
grotesque
|
|
| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
negligently
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
poised
|
|
| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
vista
|
|
| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
receded
|
|
| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
apron
|
|
| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
relish
|
|
| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
vigilantly
|
|
| adv.警觉地，警惕地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
theatrical
|
|
| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
buckles
|
|
| 搭扣，扣环( buckle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
adjured
|
|
| v.（以起誓或诅咒等形式）命令要求( adjure的过去式和过去分词 )；祈求；恳求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
inclination
|
|
| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
dodging
|
|
| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
hitching
|
|
| 搭乘； （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的现在分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
braces
|
|
| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
demonstration
|
|
| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
wigs
|
|
| n.假发，法官帽( wig的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
plentifully
|
|
| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
plentiful
|
|
| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
horrified
|
|
| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
apothecary
|
|
| n.药剂师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
dab
|
|
| v.轻触，轻拍，轻涂；n.(颜料等的)轻涂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
grooves
|
|
| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
wielded
|
|
| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的过去式和过去分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
morsel
|
|
| n.一口，一点点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
vowing
|
|
| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
inviting
|
|
| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
cosily
|
|
| adv.舒适地，惬意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
demur
|
|
| v．表示异议，反对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
bestowed
|
|
| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
inhaled
|
|
| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
reverted
|
|
| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
dispel
|
|
| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
abruptness
|
|
| n. 突然，唐突 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
apprehensions
|
|
| 疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
vessels
|
|
| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
berth
|
|
| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
oysters
|
|
| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
seamen
|
|
| n.海员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
farce
|
|
| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
downwards
|
|
| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
scribble
|
|
| v.潦草地书写，乱写，滥写；n.潦草的写法，潦草写成的东西，杂文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
destitution
|
|
| n.穷困，缺乏，贫穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
fortitude
|
|
| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
wrested
|
|
| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |