The driver, having observed through the gusting1 low clouds, candle-lit Windows in the Distance, now notifies those of us below, that we are approaching an Inn. The Ladies begin to stir and pat, lean together and discuss. Men re-light their Pipes and consult their watches,— and, more discreetly3, their Pocket-books. The rush of the Weather past the smooth outer Shell, a surface lacquered as secretly as the finest Cre?mona Violin, smoothly4 abates5, silences, to be replaced by the crisp shouts of Hostlers and Stable-boys. We observe Link-men waiting in a double line, as if at some ceremony of German Mysticks, their torches sparking intensely yellow at the edges as they illuminate6 the falling Snow-Flakes7.
In the partial light, the immense log Structure seems to tower toward the clouds until no more can be seen,— tho' the clouds at the moment are low,— whilst horizontally sprawling8 away, into an Arrangement of courtyards and passageways, till likewise lost to the eye, such com?plexity recalling Holy Land Bazaars9 and Zouks, even in the wintry set?ting,— save that in this Quarter nothing is ancient, the logs are still beaded with clear drops of resin10, with none of the walls inside attached directly to them, the building having not yet had even a season to set?tle. The pots in the kitchen are all still bright, the Edges yet upon the Cutlery, bed-linens folded away that haven't yet been romp'd, or even slept, among.
This new Inn is an overnight stop for everybody with business upon the Communication, quite near a rope ferry across Bloomery Creek11, one of the thousand rivers and branches flowing into Chesapeake. Wag?goners are as welcome as Coach parties, and both sorts of Traveler, for the time being, find this acceptable. There's a long front porch, and two entrances, one into the Bar-room, the other into the family Parlor12, with Passage between them only after a complicated search within, among Doors and Stair-cases more and less evident.
Meanwhile, the Astronomers13, returning from Lancaster, are attending the Day's cloudy Sky as closely as they might a starry14 one at Night. "Can't say I'm too easy with this weather," Mason remarks.
"Do tha mean those white flake-like objects blowing out of the north?east...?"
"Actually, I lost sight of the Trees about fifteen minutes ago."
"Another bonny gahn-on tha've got us into...? Are we even upon the Road?"
"Hold,— is that a Light?"
"Don't try to get out of it thah' way."
"I am making it snow? Is this what you mean to assert, here?— how on earth could I do that, Dixon, pray regard yourself, Sir!"
"Tha pre-dicted a fair passage back to the Tents, indeed we have wager'd a Pistole,—
"You would, of course, mention it."
Bickering15 energetickally, they make their way toward the lights and at length enter the very Inn where your Narrator, lately arriv'd, is already down a Pipe and a Pint,— only to be brought to dumbfounded silence at the Sight of one whom they've not seen since the Cape16 of Good Hope.
"Are we never to be rid of him, then...?" cries Dixon.
"An Hallucination," Mason assures him, "brought on by the Snow, the vanishing of detail, the Brain's Anxiety to fill the Vacuum at any Cost—"
"Well met, Sirs," I reply. "And it gets worse." I reach in my Pockets and find and unscroll my Commission, which, all but knocking Pates17, they read hastily.
"Party Chaplain...?"
"Who ask'd for a Chaplain?"
"Certainly not I...?"
"You don't mean I,— "
' 'Twas part of a side-Letter to the Consent Decree in Chancery," I explain helpfully, "that there be a Chaplain."
"Most of 'm'll be Presbyterians, Rev19...? When they're not German Sectarians, or Irish Catholics...?"
"The Royal Society, however, is solidly Anglican."
"Chaplain," says Mason.
"Eeh," says Dixon.
As torch- or taper-light takes over from the light of the sunset, what are those Faces, gather'd before some Window, raising Toasts, preparing for the Evening ahead, if not assur'd of life forever? as travelers come in by ones and twos, to smells of Tobacco and Chops, as Fiddle21 Players tune22 their strings23 and starv'd horses eat from the trough in the Courtyard, as young women flee to and fro dumb with fatigue24, and small boys down in strata25 of their own go swarming26 upon ceaseless errands, skidding27 upon the Straw, as smoke begins to fill the smoking-room...how may Death come here?
Mr. Knockwood, the landlord, a sort of trans-Elemental Uncle Toby, spends hours every day not with Earth Fortifications, but studying rather the passage of Water across his land, and constructing elaborate works to divert its flow, not to mention his guests. "You don't smoak how it is," he argues, " - all that has to happen is some Beaver29, miles upstream from here, moves a single Pebble,— suddenly, down here, everything's changed! The creek's a mile away, running through the Horse Barn! Acres of Forest no longer exist! And that Beaver don't even know what he's done!" and he stands glaring, as if this hypothetickal animal were the fault of the patient Listener.
The weather continues to worsen. Taproom Regulars come in to voice openly Comparisons to the Winter of '63 and '64, the freezing and Floods. New casks of peach Brandy are open'd daily. The Knockwoods begin to raise their voices. "But I was saving that one."
"For what? The Book of Revelations? These are cash customers.”
The Assembly Room is not Bath. Here congregate30 all the Agentry of the Province, Land-jobbers and Labor28 Crimps, Tool-Mongers and Gypsy Brick-Layers, as well as the curious Well-to-do from further East, including all the Way back across the Ocean. The Waggoners keep together, seeking or creating their own Snugs31, and the Men of Affairs arrange for Separate Rooms. Those that remain, tend to run to the quarrelsome.
"Where may one breathe?" demands one Continental32 Macaroni, in a yellow waistcoat, "— in New-York, Taverns33 have rooms where Smoke is prohibited."
"Tho' clearly," replies the itinerant34 Stove-Salesman Mr. Whitpot, drawing vigorously at his Pipe, "what's needed is a No-Idiots Area."
The youth at this makes a motion, less threatening than vex'd, toward the Hanger35 he wears habitually36 at his side,— tho' upon which he hap18?pens, at the moment, to be sitting. "Well, and you're a Swine, who cares what a Swine thinks?"
"Peevish37 Mr. Dimdown," coos Mrs. Edgewise, reaching behind the youth's ear and underneath38 his Wig39 to produce a silver pistole she has no intention, however, of offering to him, "do re-sheathe your weapon, there's a good young gentleman." Mistress of a diverting repertoire40 of conjuring41 tricks with Playing-Cards, Dice42, Coins, Herbs, Liquids in Flasks43, Gentlemen's Watches, Handkerchiefs, Weapons, Beetles44 and Bugs45 and short Excursions up the Chain of Being therefrom,— to Pigeons upon occasion, and Squirrels,— she has brought, to the mud courtyards of trans-Susquehannian inns, Countryfolk from miles about to gather into a crepuscular46 Murmur47, no fabl'd Telegraph so swift as this Diffusion48 among them of word that a Magician is in the Neighborhood. In this Autumn cold, out in the Rain, beneath the generally unseen ris?ing of the Pleiades, has she been trouping49 on, cheerfully rendering50 sub?junctive, or contrary to fact, familiar laws of nature and of common sense.
Despite her Skills in Legerdemain51, her Husband seldom, if ever, will allow her to accompany him upon his gaming Ventures. Ever subject to Evaporations of Reserve, she will now and then inquire why not, receiv?ing the dyspeptic equivalent of a Gallant52 Smile. "Madam, to visit yea
even gaze upon such Doings would I fear my honey'd Apiary53 prove no easy burden to Sensibilities as finely rigged out as your own, therefore must I advise against it, with regret yet vehemence54 as well, my tuzzy-muzzy."
"I know your 'vehemence.' It is of little account with me."
"Among my acquaintance," remarks Mr. Dimdown, fondling his Hanger, "no woman would dare address her Husband in that way, with?out incurring55 a prolonged chastisement56."
"As the phrase, scientifickally, describes Life with Mr. Edgewise, your Acquaintance need not, on this Occasion at least, suffer disappointment."
In a distant corner, Luise and Mitzi are engag'd in a Discussion as to Hair. "I want it all different lengths," fiercely, "I don't want to fasten it close to my head. I don't want to cover it. I want people to see it. I want Boys to see it."
" 'Tis a brumal Night, for behold57, it sweepeth by," announces Squire58 Haligast from the shadows, resuming his silence as everyone falls silent to attend thereupon,— for the gnomic Squire, on the rare occasions he speaks, does so with an intensity59 suggesting, to more than one of the Guests, either useful Prophecy or Bedlamite Entertainment.
This is the Room Mason and Dixon descend60 into, where all is yet too new for the scent61 of hops20 and malt to've quite worked in,— rather, fugi?tive odors of gums and resins62, of smoke from pipes and fires, of horses upon the garments of the company, come and go, unmix'd. The winter light creeps in and becomes confus'd among the glassware, a wrinkl'd bright stain.
"You're the Astronomers," Mr. Knockwood greets them. "The Revd has been speaking of you." When they come to explain about the two Transits63 of Venus, and the American Work filling the Years between, "By Heaven, a 'Sandwich,' " cries Mr. Edgewise. "Take good care, Sirs, that something don't come along and eat it!"
His pleasure at being able to utter a recently minted word, is at once much curtailed64 by the volatile65 Chef de Cuisine66 Armand Allègre, who rushes from the Kitchen screaming. "Sond-weech-uh! Sond-weech-uh!," gesticulating as well, "To the Sacrament of the Eating, it is ever the grand Insult!”
Cries of "Anti-Britannic!" and "Shame, Mounseer!"
Mitzi clutches herself. "No Mercy! Oh, he's so 'cute!"
Young Dimdown may be seen working himself up to a level of indig?nation that will allow him at least to pull out his naked Hanger again, and wave it about a bit. "Where I come from," he offers, "Lord Sandwich is as much respected for his nobility as admired for his Ingenuity67, in cre?ating the great modern Advance in Diet which bears his name, and I would suggest,— without of course wishing to offend,— that it ill behooves68 some bloody69 little toad-eating foreigner to speak his name in any but a respectful manner."
"Had I my batterie des couteaux" replies the Frenchman, with more gallantry than sense, "before that ridiculous little blade is out of his sheath, I can bone you,— like the Veal70!"
"Stop it," admonishes71 the Revd, "both of you,— not all the Sensibili?ties here are grown as coarsen'd as your own. The Eponym in dispute," he continues to point out to the Macaroni, "better known these Days as Jemmy Twitcher, withal, is a vile-mouthed drunkard, a foolish gambler, and a Sodomitical rake, who betrayed his dear friend for the sake of,— let us say, a certain Caress72, from the feeble hand of Georgie, Jack73 Bute's pathetic Creature."
"By Heaven, a Wilkesite!" cries Mr. Edgewise, "right here among us, imagine it, my Crown of Thorns!"
"The Lord's long Night of gaming draws to a close," pronounces Squire Haligast, "— the Object in its Journey, comes nigh, among the excursions of Chance, the sins of ministers, the inscriptions74 upon walls and Gate-posts,— the birth of the 'Sandwich,' at this exact moment in Christianity,— one of the Noble and Fallen for its Angel! Disks of secu?lar Bread,— enclosing whilst concealing75 slices of real Flesh, yet a-sop with Blood, under the earthly guise76 of British Beef, all,— but for the Species of course,— Consubstantiate, thus... the Sandwich, Eucharist of this our Age." Thereupon retracting77 his head into the recklessly-toss'd folds of his neck-cloth, and saying no more.
"Precisely78 so," blares Mr. Edgewise, striking his wife smartly upon the Leg,— "oh, beg pardon, m' dear, thought it was meself I was thump79?ing upon, well well a long night of gaming for us all isn't it? even if it is
usually in the daytime, day after quo-not-to-mention-quid-tidian day now ain't that correct, my cheery Daw!"
At table next morning, instead of the gusts80 of grease-smoke she expected venting81 from the kitchen, Luise Redzinger is agreeably surpriz'd to find Fragrances82 already familiar from her own cooking, and withal strange deviations,— what she later will identify as Garlick, for one, and a shameless over-usage of Butter in place of Lard, for another. "Do you not consider it a sin, even in the English church?" she accosts83 Revd Cherry-coke. "You could not find this even in Bethlehem at Christmastide." The object is a Croissant,— "a sort of ev'ryday Roll among the French, who put Butter in all they cook, Madam," the worldly Mr. Edgewise instructs her,— half a dozen more of which her Daughter, less scandalized, has already accounted for,— though no fingers in the room go altogether ungreased by these palatable84 pastries85, which keep arriving from some distant oven, one great steaming platter-ful after another. "More likely the Devil's work," sniffs86 the beauteous Sectarian, "than any Frenchman, so." But with a strange,— what indeed is later thought to be hopeful,— Lift, at the end of it.
"Well then," bustles87 their host, "how'd you like to meet him in person?"
She gasps88. Whenever she tells the story after that, she will put in, "My heart stopped, almost,— for I thought he meant the Devil." But he means his newly-hired Chef, the diminutive89 and athletic90 Monsieur Armand Allegre, whose white Toque, "half again as tall as he," she has noticed once or twice flashing in the kitchen doorway91, even thro' pipe-murk and this dark Daybreak,— more brightly, in fact, than there is light to account for. "Here, Frenchy! Venayzeesee! One of our Guests wishes to present her compliments!" He winks92 at the eaters at nearby tables, Lord Affability.
"Gentle Sir," Frau Redzinger fixing him with a gaze whose calmness is precarious93 at best, "he may cook whatever he pleases,— I will not preach him a sermon."
"Oh, he's a good sort, you needn't worry, he's not all that French! Here then,— “
Introduced by their jocund94 host, the Frenchman sweeps off his Toque, causing a trio of Candles nearby to gutter95 for a moment, and stands before her exposed in his true altitude, hardly taking breaths, as she, meantime, 'tis clear to one or two of the Company, sits likewise trans-fix'd, the croissant in her posed hand shedding flakes, as a late flower its petals96. By the unabated noise in the room, it would seem the moment has passed unremark'd. She, as if becoming aware of the (as it now turns out) already half-eaten Article she holds, shakes it slowly at him in reluctant tribute. "How...did you do this?"
"Madame,— I am even now about to begin a new batch97 of the Crois?sant Dough98.. .I would be honored, if you would care to observe our little Kitchen at work—" From somewhere producing a simple turned hick?ory cylinder99, some twenty inches long and perhaps two across,— "My Rolling-pin,"— urging her to take it in her hesitant hands, appreciate the weight, the smoothness, and give it a sample roll or two upon the table.
Frowning, curious, she complies. Presently, her voice lower, "It pays well, this Job, net?" He shrugs100, his thoughts elsewhere. "Were it Thou?sands," sighing as if they were the only two in the room, and forcefully grasping his own face by the cheeks, "yet would you behold...the face of Melancholy101. Alas102. Once the most celebrated103 chef in France,— now alone, among foreign Peasants and skin-wearing Primitives104, with no chance of escaping. And even if I could, where would I go? when all civilized,— I mean, of course, French,— soil is forbidden to my foot, even in the Illinois, even in the far mountains of Louisiana, It would seek me out, and remain, with motives105 too alien for any human ever to know."
" 'It'! How dreadful. Who dislikes you so much?"
' 'Who,' alas.. .a human pursuer, I perhaps could elude106."
Fascinated herself, she has miss'd completely his effect upon Mitzi, who is sitting there flush'd and daz'd, with as clear an incipient107 case of the Green Pip as Mrs. Edgewise has met with since her own Girlhood. She leans from an adjoining Table. "Do you wish to faint, child?" Cour?teously the girl's eyelids108 and lashes109 swing downward, at least for as long as she can bear it, till presently in a weightless Languor110 sweeping111 up
again for another quick glance at Armand. The older Woman straightens again, shaking her head with a smile in which ordinary Mirth, though present, is far from the only Element,— as meanwhile M. Allègre pro2?ceeds, before a room-ful of what, to his mind, must seem unfeeling bar?barians, to recite his Iliad of Inconvenience.
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gusting
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| （风）猛刮（gust的现在分词形式） | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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abates
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| 减少( abate的第三人称单数 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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illuminate
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| vt.照亮，照明；用灯光装饰；说明，阐释 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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bazaars
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| （东方国家的）市场( bazaar的名词复数 )； 义卖； 义卖市场； （出售花哨商品等的）小商品市场 | |
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resin
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| n.树脂，松香，树脂制品；vt.涂树脂 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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astronomers
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| n.天文学者，天文学家( astronomer的名词复数 ) | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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bickering
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| v.争吵( bicker的现在分词 )；口角；（水等）作潺潺声；闪烁 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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pates
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| n.头顶，（尤指）秃顶，光顶( pate的名词复数 ) | |
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hap
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| n.运气；v.偶然发生 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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hops
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| 跳上[下]( hop的第三人称单数 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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tune
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strings
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fatigue
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strata
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| n.地层（复数）；社会阶层 | |
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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skidding
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| n.曳出，集材v.（通常指车辆） 侧滑( skid的现在分词 )；打滑；滑行；（住在）贫民区 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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congregate
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| v.(使)集合，聚集 | |
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snugs
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| n.整洁的( snug的名词复数 )；温暖而舒适的；非常舒适的；紧身的v.整洁的( snug的第三人称单数 )；温暖而舒适的；非常舒适的；紧身的 | |
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continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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taverns
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| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
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itinerant
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| adj.巡回的；流动的 | |
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hanger
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| n.吊架，吊轴承；挂钩 | |
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habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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repertoire
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| n.(准备好演出的)节目，保留剧目；(计算机的)指令表，指令系统， <美>(某个人的)全部技能；清单，指令表 | |
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conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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flasks
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| n.瓶，长颈瓶， 烧瓶( flask的名词复数 ) | |
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beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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bugs
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| adj.疯狂的，发疯的n.窃听器( bug的名词复数 )；病菌；虫子；[计算机]（制作软件程序所产生的意料不到的）错误 | |
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crepuscular
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| adj.晨曦的；黄昏的；昏暗的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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diffusion
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| n.流布；普及；散漫 | |
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trouping
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| 巡回演出（troupe的现在分词形式） | |
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rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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legerdemain
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| n.戏法，诈术 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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apiary
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| n.养蜂场，蜂房 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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incurring
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| 遭受，招致，引起( incur的现在分词 ) | |
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chastisement
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| n.惩罚 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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resins
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| n.树脂，松香( resin的名词复数 )；合成树脂v.树脂，松香( resin的第三人称单数 )；合成树脂 | |
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transits
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| 通过（transit的复数形式） | |
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curtailed
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| v.截断，缩短( curtail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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cuisine
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| n.烹调，烹饪法 | |
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ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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behooves
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| n.利益，好处( behoof的名词复数 )v.适宜( behoove的第三人称单数 ) | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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veal
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| n.小牛肉 | |
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admonishes
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| n.劝告( admonish的名词复数 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责v.劝告( admonish的第三人称单数 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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retracting
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| v.撤回或撤消( retract的现在分词 )；拒绝执行或遵守；缩回；拉回 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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venting
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| 消除； 泄去； 排去； 通风 | |
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fragrances
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| n.芳香，香味( fragrance的名词复数 )；香水 | |
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accosts
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的第三人称单数 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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palatable
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| adj.可口的，美味的；惬意的 | |
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pastries
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| n.面粉制的糕点 | |
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sniffs
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的第三人称单数 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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bustles
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| 热闹( bustle的名词复数 )； （女裙后部的）衬垫； 撑架 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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winks
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| v.使眼色( wink的第三人称单数 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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jocund
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| adj.快乐的，高兴的 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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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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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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primitives
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| 原始人（primitive的复数形式） | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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incipient
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| adj.起初的，发端的，初期的 | |
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108
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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