Marston In Prison
WHILE Franconia revives, let us beg the reader's indulgence for not recounting the details thereof. The night continues dark and stormy, but she must return to her own home,--she must soothe1 the excited feelings of a dissolute and disregarding husband, who, no doubt, is enjoying his night orgies, while she is administering consolation2 to the downcast. "Ah! uncle," she says, about to take leave of him for the night, "how with spirit the force of hope fortifies3 us; and yet how seldom are our expectations realised through what we look forward to! You now see the value of virtue5; but when seen through necessity, how vain the repentance6. Nevertheless, let us profit by the lesson before us; let us hope the issue may yet be favourable7!" Bob will see his young missus safe home-he will be her guide and protector. So, preparing his cap, he buttons his jacket, laughs and grins with joy, goes to the door, then to the fire-place, and to the door again, where, keeping his left hand on the latch8, and his right holding the casement9, he bows and scrapes, for "Missus comin." Franconia arranges her dress as best she can, adjusts her bonnet10, embraces Marston, imprints11 a fond kiss on his cheek, reluctantly relinquishes12 his hand, whispers a last word of consolation, and bids him good night,--a gentle good night-in sorrow.
She has gone, and the old slave is her guide, her human watch-dog. Slowly Marston paces the silent chamber13 alone, giving vent14 to his pent-up emotions. What may to-morrow bring forth15? runs through his wearied mind. It is but the sudden downfall of life, so inseparable from the planter who rests his hopes on the abundance of his human property. But the slave returns, and relieves him of his musings. He has seen his young missus safe to her door; he has received her kind word, and her good, good night! Entering the chamber with a smile, he sets about clearing away the little things, and, when done, draws his seat close to Marston, at the fire-place. As if quite at home beside his old master, he eyes Marston intently for some time,--seems studying his thoughts and fears. At length the old slave commences disclosing his feelings. His well-worn bones are not worth a large sum; nor are the merits of his worthy17 age saleable;--no! there is nothing left but his feelings, those genuine virtues18 so happily illustrated19. Daddy Bob will stand by mas'r, as he expresses it, in power or in prison. Kindness has excited all that vanity in Bob so peculiar20 to the negro, and by which he prides himself in the prime value of his person. There he sits-Marston's faithful friend, contemplating21 his silence with a steady gaze, and then, giving his jet-black face a double degree of seriousness, shrugs22 his shoulders, significantly nods his head, and intimates that it will soon be time to retire, by commencing to unboot master.
"You seem in a hurry to get rid of me, Daddy! Want to get your own cranium into a pine-knot sleep, eh?" says Marston, with an encouraging smile, pulling the old slave's whiskers in a playful manner.
"No, Boss; 'tant dat," returns Bob, keeping on tugging23 at Marston's boots until he has got them from his feet, and safely stowed away in a corner. A gentle hint that he is all ready to relieve Marston of his upper garments brings him to his feet, when Bob commences upon him in right good earnest, and soon has him stowed away between the sheets. "Bob neber likes to hurry old Boss, but den16 'e kno' what's on old Mas'r's feelins, an 'e kno' dat sleep make 'um forget 'um!" rejoins Bob, in a half whisper that caught Marston's ear, as he patted and fussed about his pillow, in order to make him as comfortable as circumstances would admit. After this he extinguishes the light, and, accustomed to a slave's bed, lumbers24 himself down on the floor beside his master's cot. Thus, watchfully25, he spends the night.
When morning dawned, Bob was in the full enjoyment27 of what the negro so pertinently28 calls a long and strong sleep. He cannot resist its soothing29 powers, nor will master disturb him in its enjoyment. Before breakfast-time arrives, however, he arouses with a loud guffaw30, looks round the room vacantly, as if he were doubting the presence of things about him. Rising to his knees, he rubs his eyes languidly, yawns, and stretches his arms, scratches his head, and suddenly gets a glimpse of old master, who is already dressed, and sits by the window, his attention intently set upon some object without. The old slave recognises the same chamber from which he guided Franconia on the night before, and, after saluting31 mas'r, sets about arranging the domestic affairs of the apartment, and preparing the breakfast table, the breakfast being cooked at Aunt Beckie's cabin, in the yard. Aunt Beckie had the distinguished32 satisfaction of knowing Marston in his better days, and now esteems33 it an honour to serve him, even in his poverty. Always happy to inform her friends that she was brought up a first-rate pastry-cook, she now adds, with great satisfaction, that she pays her owner, the very Reverend Mr. Thomas Tippletony, the ever-pious rector of St. Michael's, no end of money for her time, and makes a good profit at her business beside. Notwithstanding she has a large family of bright children to maintain in a respectable way, she hopes for a continuance of their patronage35, and will give the best terms her limited means admit. She knows how very necessary it is for a southern gentleman who would be anybody to keep up appearances, and, with little means, to make a great display: hence she is very easy in matters of payment. In Marston's case, she is extremely proud to render him service,--to "do for him" as far as she can, and wait a change for the better concerning any balance outstanding.
Bob fetches the breakfast of coffee, fritters, homony, and bacon,--a very good breakfast it is, considering the circumstances,--and spreads the little rustic36 board with an air of comfort and neatness complimentary37 to the old slave's taste. And, withal, the old man cannot forego the inherent vanity of his nature, for he is, unconsciously, performing all the ceremonies of attendance he has seen Dandy and his satellites go through at the plantation38 mansion39. He fusses and grins, and praises and laughs, as he sets the dishes down one by one, keeping a watchful26 eye on mas'r, as if to detect an approval in his countenance40. "Reckon 'ow dis old nigger can fix old Boss up aristocratic breakfast like Dandy. Now, Boss-da'h he is!" he says, whisking round the table, setting the cups just so, and spreading himself with exultation41. "Want to see master smile-laugh some-like 'e used down on da'h old plantation!" he ejaculates, emphatically, placing a chair at Marston's plate. This done, he accompanies his best bow with a scrape of his right foot, spreads his hands,--the gesture being the signal of readiness. Marston takes his chair, as Bob affects the compound dignity of the very best trained nigger, doing the distinguished in waiting.
"A little less ceremony, my old faithful! the small follies42 of etiquette43 ill become such a place as this. We must succumb44 to circumstances: come, sit down, Bob; draw your bench to the chest, and there eat your share, while I wait on myself," says Marston, touching45 Bob on the arm. The words were no sooner uttered, than Bob's countenance changed from the playful to the serious; he could see nothing but dignity in master, no matter in what sphere he might be placed. His simple nature recoils46 at the idea of dispensing47 with the attention due from slave to master. Master's fallen fortunes, and the cheerless character of the chamber, are nothing to Daddy- master must keep up his dignity.
"You need'nt look so serious, Daddy; it only gives an extra shade to your face, already black enough for any immediate48 purpose!" says Marston, turning round and smiling at the old slave's discomfiture49. To make amends50, master takes a plate from the table, and gives Bob a share of his homony and bacon. This is very pleasing to the old slave, who regains51 his wonted earnestness, takes the plate politely from his master's hand, retires with it to the chest, and keeps up a regular fire of chit-chat while dispensing its contents. In this humble52 apartment, master and slave-the former once opulent, and the latter still warm with attachment53 for his friend-are happily companioned. They finish their breakfast,--a long pause intervenes. "I would I were beyond the bounds of this our south," says Marston, breaking the silence, as he draws his chair and seats himself by the window, where he can look out upon the dingy54 little houses in the lane.
The unhappy man feels the burden of a misspent life; he cannot recall the past, nor make amends for its errors. But, withal, it is some relief that he can disclose his feelings to the old man, his slave.
"Mas'r," interrupts the old slave, looking complacently55 in his face, "Bob 'll fowler ye, and be de same old friend. I will walk behind Miss Frankone." His simple nature seems warming into fervency56.
"Ah! old man," returns Marston, "if there be a wish (you may go before me, though) I have on earth, it is that when I die our graves may be side by side, with an epitaph to denote master, friend, and faithful servant lie here." He takes the old man by the hand again, as the tears drop from his cheeks. "A prison is but a grave to the man of honourable57 feelings," he concludes. Thus disclosing his feelings, a rap at the door announces a messenger. It is nine o'clock, and immediately the sheriff, a gentlemanly-looking man, wearing the insignia of office on his hat, walks in, and politely intimates that, painful as may be the duty, he must request his company to the county gaol58, that place so accommodatingly prepared for the reception of unfortunates.
"Sorry for your misfortunes, sir! but we'll try to make you as comfortable as we can in our place." The servitor of the law seems to have some sympathy in him. "I have my duty to perform, you know, sir; nevertheless, I have my opinion about imprisoning59 honest men for debt: it's a poor satisfaction, sir. I'm only an officer, you see, sir, not a law-maker-never want to be, sir. I very much dislike to execute these kind of writs," says the man of the law, as, with an expression of commiseration60, he glances round the room, and then at Daddy, who has made preparations for a sudden dodge61, should such an expedient62 be found necessary.
"Nay63, sheriff, think nothing of it; it's but a thing of common life,--it may befall us all. I can be no exception to the rule, and may console myself with the knowledge of companionship," replies Marston, as coolly as if he were preparing for a journey of pleasure.
How true it is, that, concealed64 beneath the smallest things, there is a consolation which necessity may bring out: how Providence65 has suited it to our misfortunes!
"There are a few things here-a very few-I should like to take to my cell; perhaps I can send for them," he remarks, looking at the officer, enquiringly.
"My name is Martin-Captain Martin, they call me,"-returns that functionary66, politely. "If you accept my word of honour, I pledge it they are taken care of, and sent to your apartments."
"You mean my new lodging-house, or my new grave, I suppose," interrupted Marston, jocosely67, pointing out to Daddy the few articles of bedding, chairs, and a window-curtain he desired removed. Daddy has been pensively68 standing34 by the fire-place the while, contemplating the scene.
Marston soon announces his readiness to proceed; and, followed by the old slave, the officer leads the way down the ricketty old stairs to the street. "I's gwine t'see whar dey takes old mas'r, any how, reckon I is," says the old slave, giving his head a significant turn.
"Now, sir," interrupts the officer, as they arrive at the bottom of the stairs, "perhaps you have a delicacy69 about going through the street with a sheriff; many men have: therefore I shall confide70 in your honour, sir, and shall give you the privilege of proceeding71 to the gaol as best suits your feelings. I never allow myself to follow the will of creditors72; if I did, my duties would be turned into a system of tyranny, to gratify their feelings only. Now, you may take a carriage, or walk; only meet me at the prison gate."
"Thanks, thanks!" returns Marston, grateful for the officer's kindness, "my crime is generosity73; you need not fear me. My old faithful here will guide me along." The officer bows assent74, and with a respectful wave of the hand they separate to pursue different routes.
Marston walks slowly along, Bob keeping pace close behind. He passes many of his old acquaintances, who, in better times, would have recognised him with a cordial embrace; at present they have scarcely a nod to spare. Marston, however, is firm in his resolution, looks not on one side nor the other, and reaches the prison-gate in good time. The officer has reached it in advance, and waits him there. They pause a few moments as Marston scans the frowning wall that encloses the gloomy-looking old prison. "I am ready to go in," says Marston; and just as they are about to enter the arched gate, the old slave touches him on the arm, and says, "Mas'r, dat's no place fo'h Bob. Can't stand seein' on ye locked up wid sich folks as in dah!" Solicitously75 he looks in his master's face. The man of trouble grasps firmly the old slave's hand, holds it in silence for some minutes-the officer, moved by the touching scene, turns his head away-as tears course down his cheeks. He has no words to speak the emotions of his heart; he shakes the old man's hand affectionately, attempts to whisper a word in his ear, but is too deeply affected76.
"Good by, mas'r: may God bless 'um! Ther's a place fo'h old mas'r yet. I'll com t' see mas'r every night," says the old man, his words flowing from the bounty77 of his heart. He turns away reluctantly, draws his hand from Marston's, heaves a sigh, and repairs to his labour. How precious was that labour of love, wherein the old slave toils78 that he may share the proceeds with his master!
As Marston and the sheriff disappear through the gate, and are about to ascend79 the large stone steps leading to the portal in which is situated80 the inner iron gate opening into the debtors81' ward4, the sheriff made a halt, and, placing his arm in a friendly manner through Marston's, enquires82, "Anything I can do for you? If there is, just name it. Pardon my remark, sir, but you will, in all probability, take the benefit of the act; and, as no person seems willing to sign your bail83, I may do something to relieve your wants, in my humble way." Marston shakes his head; the kindness impedes84 an expression of his feelings. "A word of advice from me, however, may not be without its effect, and I will give it you; it is this:--Your earnestness to save those two children, and the singular manner in which those slave drudges85 of Graspum produced the documentary testimony86 showing them property, has created wondrous87 suspicion about your affairs. I will here say, Graspum's no friend of yours; in fact, he's a friend to nobody but himself; and even now, when questioned on the manner of possessing all your real estate, he gives out insinuations, which, instead of exonerating88 you, create a still worse impression against you. His conversation on the matter leaves the inference with your creditors that you have still more property secreted89. Hence, mark me! it behoves you to keep close lips. Don't let your right hand know what your left does," continues the officer, in a tone of friendliness90. They ascend to the iron gate, look through the grating. The officer, giving a whistle, rings the bell by touching a spring in the right-hand wall. "My lot at last!" exclaims Marston. "How many poor unfortunates have passed this threshold-how many times the emotions of the heart have burst forth on this spot-how many have here found a gloomy rest from their importuners-how many have here whiled away precious time in a gloomy cell, provided for the punishment of poverty!" The disowned man, for such he is, struggles to retain his resolution; fain would he, knowing the price of that resolution, repress those sensations threatening to overwhelm him.
The brusque gaoler appears at the iron gate; stands his burly figure in the portal; nods recognition to the officer; swings back the iron frame, as a number of motley prisoners gather into a semicircle in the passage. "Go back, prisoners; don't stare so at every new comer," says the gaoler, clearing the way with his hands extended.
One or two of the locked-up recognise Marston. They lisp strange remarks, drawn91 forth by his appearance in charge of an officer. "Big as well as little fish bring up here," ejaculates one.
"Where are his worshippers and his hospitable92 friends?" whispers another.
"There's not much hospitality for poverty," rejoins a third, mutteringly. "Southern hospitality is unsound, shallow, and flimsy; a little dazzling of observances to cover very bad facts. You are sure to find a people who maintain the grossest errors in their political system laying the greatest claims to benevolence93 and principle-things to which they never had a right. The phantom94 of hospitality draws the curtain over many a vice-it is a well-told nothingness ornamenting95 the beggared system of your slavery; that's my honest opinion," says a third, in a gruff voice, which indicates that he has no very choice opinion of such generosity. "If they want a specimen96 of true hospitality, they must go to New England; there the poor man's offering stocks the garden of liberty, happiness, and justice; and from them spring the living good of all," he concludes; and folding his arms with an air of independence, walks up the long passage running at right angles with the entrance portal, and disappears in a cell on the left.
"I knew him when he was great on the turf. He was very distinguished then." "He'll be extinguished here," insinuates97 another, as he protrudes98 his eager face over the shoulders of those who are again crowding round the office-door, Marston and the officer having entered following the gaoler.
The sheriff passes the committimus to the man of keys; that functionary takes his seat at a small desk, while Marston stands by its side, watching the process of his prison reception, in silence. The gaoler reads the commitment, draws a book deliberately99 from off a side window, spreads it open on his desk, and commences humming an air. "Pootty smart sums, eh!" he says, looking up at the sheriff, as he holds a quill100 in his left hand, and feels with the fingers of his right for a knife, which, he observes, he always keeps in his right vest pocket. "We have a poor debtor's calendar for registering these things. I do these things different from other gaolers, and it loses me nothin'. I goes on the true principle, that 'tant right to put criminals and debtors together; and if the state hasn't made provision for keeping them in different cells, I makes a difference on the books, and that's somethin'. Helps the feelins over the smarting point," says the benevolent101 keeper of all such troublesome persons as won't pay their debts;--as if the monstrous102 concentration of his amiability103, in keeping separate books for the criminal and poverty-stricken gentlemen of his establishment, must be duly appreciated. Marston, particularly, is requested to take the initiative, he being the most aristocratic fish the gaoler has caught in a long time. But the man has made his pen, and now he registers Marston's name among the state's forlorn gentlemen, commonly called poor debtors. They always confess themselves in dependent circumstances. Endorsing104 the commitment, he returns it to the sheriff, who will keep the original carefully filed away in his own well-stocked department. The sheriff will bid his prisoner good morning! having reminded the gaoler what good care it was desirable to take of his guest; and, extending his hand and shaking that of Marston warmly, takes his departure, whilst our gaoler leads Marston into an almost empty cell, where he hopes he will find things comfortable, and leaves him to contemplate105 upon the fallen fruit of poverty. "Come to this, at last!" said Marston, entering the cavern-like place.
收听单词发音 |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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fortifies
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| 筑防御工事于( fortify的第三人称单数 )； 筑堡于； 增强； 强化（食品） | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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imprints
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| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
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relinquishes
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的第三人称单数 )； 放弃 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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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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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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lumbers
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| 砍伐（lumber的第三人称单数形式） | |
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watchfully
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| 警惕地，留心地 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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pertinently
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| 适切地 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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guffaw
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| n.哄笑；突然的大笑 | |
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saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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esteems
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| n.尊敬，好评( esteem的名词复数 )v.尊敬( esteem的第三人称单数 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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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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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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succumb
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| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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recoils
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| n.（尤指枪炮的）反冲，后坐力( recoil的名词复数 )v.畏缩( recoil的第三人称单数 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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dispensing
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| v.分配( dispense的现在分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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regains
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| 复得( regain的第三人称单数 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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52
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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fervency
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| n.热情的；强烈的；热烈 | |
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57
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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58
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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59
imprisoning
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| v.下狱，监禁( imprison的现在分词 ) | |
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60
commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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61
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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62
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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63
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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64
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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65
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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67
jocosely
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| adv.说玩笑地，诙谐地 | |
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pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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70
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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71
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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72
creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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73
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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74
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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toils
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| 网 | |
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79
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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debtors
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| n.债务人，借方( debtor的名词复数 ) | |
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82
enquires
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| 打听( enquire的第三人称单数 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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83
bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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84
impedes
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的第三人称单数 ) | |
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drudges
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| n.做苦工的人，劳碌的人( drudge的名词复数 ) | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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87
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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88
exonerating
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| v.使免罪，免除( exonerate的现在分词 ) | |
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89
secreted
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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90
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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91
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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92
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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93
benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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ornamenting
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| v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的现在分词 ) | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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97
insinuates
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| n.暗示( insinuate的名词复数 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入v.暗示( insinuate的第三人称单数 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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98
protrudes
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的第三人称单数 ) | |
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99
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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100
quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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101
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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102
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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103
amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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104
endorsing
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| v.赞同( endorse的现在分词 )；在（尤指支票的）背面签字；在（文件的）背面写评论；在广告上说本人使用并赞同某产品 | |
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105
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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