Though Mrs. Jericho had failed in her hopes of sympathetic assistance from the friends she had summoned about her, she would not quit the field. She would dispute the ground inch by inch. On her final interview with Basil—she would rather not see Bessy, she wished to be spared the trial—she declared that, albeit1 Mr. Jericho was strangely wayward, it was but a passing whim2. However, be that as it might, it was her duty as a wife and mother to remain where she was. And Basil, having taken his measures that, at the worst, his mother and sisters might be protected, bade them a gay farewell; for he felt that the separation would be only for a short time. “My dear mother,” he said, “in a while, and you’ll be making pumpkin3 pie in a log-hut; as rosy4 as the ruddiest milkmaid.” Mrs. Jericho smiled very wanly5 at the picture. “And you, girls, why, what hands you’ll be at rearing chicks, and fattening6 pigs.” The young ladies shuddered7 at the thought. And when Basil prophesied8 for them a brace9 of stalwart farmers for husbands, why, in their own words, “their blood ran cold at the bare idea.”
Meanwhile our Man of Money hugged himself in his triumph. He had despoiled10 his wife and her daughters of the costly11 gifts that in his horns of ignorant weakness had been beguiled12 from him. And when he looked at the jewels—when he knew that they were his own again,—the victory was saddened by the despairing thought that, he could by no known means, repossess himself of all the money—all he had wasted upon them. “No; no. It is a curse to think it, but they cannot to the crucible13. They cannot yield up an ounce—nay14 not a grain—of the glorious money cast away upon their pampered15 flesh—their mincing16 appetites—their brainsick whims17. No: that money is gone; buried in the graves of vanity, and gluttony, and show. Gone! Gone! In another land I might have sold those milk-faced[Pg 274] witches for something to reimburse18 me. But there is no help for it here—none.” These savage19 and fantastic thoughts fermented20 in the brain of Jericho; and, still defeated in his moody21 musings, he would still return to the idea of his loss, to the hope to cover it. “To think that they—the sleek22 white cats!—to think that they should be the tombs wherein I have buried so much! To think that they should have so devoured23 me! That they should have worn my heart! Should have been arrayed with my life! Should have worn it in their ears, about their tiny wrists! Nay, should have trod upon it, in their damned glass slippers24! And not a penny—not a penny can I melt from them!” And then, as some consolation25, the miser26 would look at the jewels—the plunder27 he had secured. Any way, that was something snatched from the wreck28. Yet it was hard to gain nothing more. Hard to know that the cost of past days, the bye-gone pomp and luxury,—was irrevocable as the departed hours.
The Man of Money sat crouched29 in the scullion’s garret. His sordid30 serving-man—with his eyes fiercely bent31 upon his master; his mouth curved with a sharp grin, as though he read odd, strange, diabolic matter in the brain laid bare to his looks—his servant Plutus stood apart. The morning was come, and in a while, the buyers would crowd to purchase; to buy the contents of the mansion32 bit by bit, so that—as Jericho rejoiced—he might carry them in his pocket.
“There’s some of them,” said Jericho, turning up his cheek as the knocker struck through the house. The Man of Money, followed by his servant, descended33 the stairs, with tripping pace. “Bring them to me—here,” said Jericho, passing into a room; whilst the menial proceeded to the door. “Not gone, yet—not yet!” exclaimed the Man of Money to his weeping wife as, pale and trembling, she approached him.
“My dear Solomon,”—
[Pg 275]
“For the last time, let me supplicate35 you,” said the woman.
“I am content, for the last time. Well, go on; supplicate,” answered the Man of Money.
“Well? I know it—I know it,” answered Jericho. “And may I not destroy what I have made? You were all beggars when I took ye, and to beggars ye shall return. The rags, with my blood, were changed into gold-cloth. Now, I’ll have my blood again—I will—and you shall have your rags.”
“Dear Jericho! This is madness,” cried the wife.
“No, it isn’t,” answered Jericho, with a strange calmness. “It isn’t madness, my dear, dear spouse37, as the wise Doctor Mizzlemist has signified. Oh, it was a rare meeting! How happy you might have been! What rare junkettings, here! What a world of fashion, making this house a heaven,—and the poor devil, the madman owner, the maniac38 bone of your bone—the lunatic flesh of your flesh—fast bound, fast barred! What music you would have had—and he, the Bedlamite, howling to the moon. Go!” yelled the Man of Money, stamping his thin noiseless foot upon the floor; but the woman, drawing herself up, resolved to stand her ground. “What! you thought because you had not yet eaten the fruit, you would never taste its bitterness.”
“What fruit? What bitterness?” cried Mrs. Jericho, rising in spirit.
Jericho gave no direct reply. Hugging his arms about him, he swayed to and fro. “Some lies,” he cried, “like some truths, are of long growth ere they bear; but they do bear at last. Now, the lie you sowed”—
“I!” exclaimed the indignant wife.
“The lie you sowed,”—repeated Jericho doggedly—“fell upon hard ground, ’tis true. The altar stone, no less. Still, the lie has sprouted39, has struck root; has shot up, and its fruit—like the fruit of every lie, I know that much now—is bitterness.[Pg 276] The wine it makes is misery40, to the dregs of life—and you shall drink your fill of it. No; I am not mad; even, saying this, I am not mad;” cried Jericho, for he marked the eloquent41 meaning of the woman’s looks—“not mad, but enlightened. This is not frenzy42, madam; but wisdom—withering wisdom,” sighed Jericho, and there was such a sound of human suffering in the words that, with a smile in her face, the wife looked up at her persecutor43.
“My dear, you are not well—this is”—
“Why stay you here?” cried the Man of Money, with the old ferocity. “Why will you not be warned? Well, well, take your own way—you know best; you know best. But in a few hours, and there’s not a bed left for your fine, costly bones to lie upon. Now, will you depart?” cried Jericho.
“No,” exclaimed the wife. “I know my course. I am advised.” Jericho laughed. “Oh, do not doubt that,” repeated the angry woman. “I will not quit the house while a tatter remains44. It shall be your work to leave me destitute45, and then”—
“Aye, destitute; as I took you. The rich widow—the Indian queen—the sultana”—
“Well, and has it turned out otherwise?” asked Jericho, sullenly47 and proudly. “Has my wealth been wanting? Did I cheat you? Have you not shared and shared? Have you not cursed me? You married me for your money-drudge—your golden slave. And still, with your speech you goaded48 me; still with that whip of asp—a shrew’s tongue—you scourged49 me. Money—money! And despairingly I wished even of the fiend for money. I have my wish”—and Jericho slowly fixed50 his eyes upon his wife, whose sympathy returned with the man’s suffering—fixed his eyes, whilst his face became ghastly pale, though with the paleness came back something of the calmer look of former days—“I have my wish,” groaned51 Jericho,[Pg 277] spreading his hand upon his breast—“and—I feel it—I am damned for it.”
“Husband!” cried the wife, and her arm sought to embrace him. “Heavens!” she screamed in terror; and with her arm—some time divorced—around her husband, her blood stood frozen at the change. His body seemed as a wand—a willow52 wand. The wife trembled, and did not dare to look at what she deemed monstrous—devilish. With her heart beating thick, her brow bedewed, her arm fell as dead to her side.
“The brain burns brightest, I have heard,” said Jericho, with mournful, meaning voice—with features pale and tranquil53, and with a gleam of their old expression—“brightest a while before ’tis clay—if it be so, in the running of some minutes, I was. My God! What do I see?” and Jericho stared with eyes suddenly lustrous54, “What do I see?” he groaned. “The skeletons of things! Outside beauty has departed, and here—here I stand—in a house of dust. I know that was some fine thing upon you—some silken rag of pride—and now it is a web of dust—of woven dust! I look upon your face—that fine, large, glowing, breathing lie that was, and it is a lie no longer. No; it is resolved into the one truth—the universal dust, the caput mortuum of the last day.”
“Why could I not see this before? Why, I know that thing about your neck was gold; is gold still to the blind ignorance of the world. It is a piece of yellow dust; so light, a breath must scatter56 it. All dust. Your fine, proud, sweeping57 body! Why, now I see it as it is. I could crumble58 it with my hands. And your heart, I see that too! And what is called the blood passing through it. Blood! why, it is a gush59 of sand. And your brain?—as busy as an ant-hill; as busy and as earthy.”
“My dear,” said the wife, struck with the change, yet fain to play the comforter, “you are better now.”
“Much better; for I can see through all things. Why had[Pg 278] I not one glance of this before? Are we only to know what dirt is pride and pomp, only to know it when the tongue begins to taste the clay? But it is no matter,” and the wild look again dawned in the sick man’s face. Again, the fierce, wild, violent spirit grew strong within him. “It is no matter. All’s well. Very well! As I said—as I said. I am rich, and I am damned for it. I have earned hell—well earned it”—
“For the love of heaven,” cried the woman in despair, for the moment feeling a partner in the horror.
“None of that! No cowardice60! No craven—twelfth-hour puling. Be honest when you can’t help it. ’Twas a bargain; a fair bargain with hell. So let the devil have his own. And mark you! Woman of sin—thing of smiles and fraud! you and your young hags take a witch’s flight, and be gone. You had best: much best. Wait another day, and there’ll not be a broomstick to fly with.”
And here, introduced by Plutus—how Mrs. Jericho shuddered at the creature’s presence!—came certain tradesmen; wreckers never absent when a fortune founders61. Israel, Laban, and Issachar stood before the Man of Money, who, on the instant, returned to his hungry, ravenous62 self. Yes; at sight of the dealers63, the face of Jericho put on its former wickedness; and philosophy and remorse64 were dumb and dead, and cunning and avarice65 again active and voluble. With a contemptuous chuck of the head, Jericho acknowledged the presence of the chapmen, and then turned fiercely upon his wife. “Are you advised now? A few hours, and if you will stay here, you shall rule the mistress of naked walls. Go!” And the poor woman, with terror in her looks, fled from the spot. How—in that moment—she accused the lingering, guilty pride, that had withheld66 her from communing with Basil! How willingly would she have followed him! With what alacrity67 have flung aside, like tarnished68 finery, her present life, and drawn69 the breath of simplicity70 and peace! And with this thought she sought her daughters. This thought she uttered with fervent71 utterance72; and found no according[Pg 279] sympathy. But youth is apt to be disdainful. And so it was with Monica, so even with the less courageous73 Agatha. Both of them bade their mother—she herself had taught the lesson, and now her pupils bade her not forget it—have a nobler spirit. They were prepared to defy the tyrant74 to the last! Indeed, in a wild, passionate75 moment, burning with revenge, Monica laughing and clapping her hands, declared it would be noble sport to set fire to the house, and all perish in the flames. Poor girl! We verily believe she had no such wicked intention. She only spoke76 from a desperate waywardness of spirit; for it must not be forgotten that the treasonous letter of the dastard77 Candituft—(he married, ten years after, a tyrannous old maid, with enormous expectations that ripened78 into nothing better than erysipelas)—the coward letter, like a live coal, was eating up Monica’s heart. However, the mother was re-assured by the spirit of her children; and having gathered together all the property—body goods, no other—allowed them by the tyrant Man of Money, was resolved to stay to the last. Neither would she take the judgment79 of the jury of friends as final. She must believe—moreover Monica, upon the strength of her grey experience was convinced—that the law was too kind, too just and benevolent80 towards feeble woman, not to dethrone and confine for life, her maniac despot.
In the meantime, the dealers, accompanied by Jericho, prowled from room to room. Furniture, plate, pictures—all that had made the glory of Jericho—were duly considered and duly debased by the men who wished to make them their own. For a while, Jericho endured the chaffering of the tribe. At length, he suddenly drew up. “Look ye here,” said the Man of Money, prepared at once to make clean work of it; for his impatience81 subdued82 his avarice,—“Look ye, here. I treat with men of honour; with scrupulous83 merchants whose only wish is a fair profit. I know this, gentlemen. The tone of your voices, the clear look of your eyes, the sterling84 worth of your words, as we have passed from room to room, considering[Pg 280] the goods,—all convince me that I am safe in your hands.”
Israel, Laban, and Issachar, staring somewhat, bowed.
“Safe in your hands,” repeated Jericho. “Well, then, why should we waste time? I want to be quit of this. I want, at a thought, to melt all you see and have seen, into ready money. I know I must be a mighty85 loser. Oh yes! For money never was so scarce—trade never so very dead. This I knew before; so not a word about it now. Well then, worthy86 gentlemen, princely dealers, take counsel with yourselves, and to save a public hubbub—for I would pass from this fiery87 furnace of a house, this mansion burning with gold, to the peaceful corner I have provided me. You understand?”—
“Take counsel, I say, and make me an offer, a lumping offer for the whole. Eh?”
Israel, Laban, and Issachar were impressed with the comprehensive largeness of the thought. It would save time, and trouble, and the liberal, the right royal Jericho would be a gainer—there could be no doubt of it—a great gainer in the end.
“Fellow,” and Jericho turned to his serf, “conduct the merchants into every corner. And gentlemen, let me have your offer—be it ever so rough a guess, still something like it—your offer to-night. No later; to-night.”
Israel, Laban, and Issachar, with their hearts glowing in their eyes, and smiling at their mouths, rubbed their hands, and promised. The magnificent Jericho should have their offer in the evening. They, the merchant friends—old associates, time-tried fellows—with one another would soon decide; and—there should be no miss in the matter—a plain, distinct offer should be made in the evening.
Whereupon, the Man of Money ascended89 to his garret, and the dealers pursued their occupation. There was only one[Pg 281] apartment shut against them. And here, Mrs. Jericho and her daughters defied a siege. Every other place was searched, and every article scanned by the dealers, who at length with a grave joy departed from the house, big with the belief in a glorious pennyworth.
The Man of Money sat alone in his garret. Evening closed in, and the moon rose, and looked reproachfully at the miser. The same moon that looked so tenderly upon millions; the same moon that shone upon the silvery sails of the Halcyon90, flying like a sea-bird to its home.
The Man of Money started in his chair. “What’s that?” The garret door opened. “You,—is’t not?”
“I,” answered the slave Plutus.
“Well? Has it come?” cried the master.
“Here it is,” answered the servant; and he laid a letter upon the table.
“Well, now for their conscience!” exclaimed the Man of Money. “Go, while I read it,” and the servant departed. “Stay, dog. A light—I cannot read else. Do you hear? A light.”
The fellow came not in; but his voice was heard without. “There is a candle on the table; and paper prepared to light it.”
Most precious paper! The heart’s flesh and blood of the Man of Money. For the devilish serving-man had folded a note—(how obtained, can it matter?)—a note peeled from the breast of his master; a piece of money, a part of the damned Jericho, sympathising with him.
The Man of Money took the paper,—the devil with his ear upturned crept closer to the door—and thrust it amidst the dying coals. A moment, and the garret is rent as with a lightning flash.
Yelling, and all on fire, the Man of Money falls prostrate91, with hell in his face. Then his lips move, but not a sound is heard. And the fire communicated by the sympathy of the[Pg 282] living note—the flesh of his flesh—like a snake of flame, glides92 up his limbs, devouring93 them. And so he is consumed. A minute; and the Man of Money is a thin, black paper ash. Now, the night wind stirs it; and now, a sudden breeze carries the cinerous corpse94 away, flattering it to dust impalpable.
And at the moment, the possessions of Jericho—all he had bought with his flesh, and blood, and soul—all was blasted to tinder, consumed to ashes. The pictures dropt in dust from the walls; the walls crumbled95; the very gold the wretch96 had hoarded97 became as nought98.
Candituft looked at his diamond ring—the gift of Jericho—and it was a speck99 of charcoal100. Bones and Thrush, drawing forth101 their golden snuff-boxes, found in their hands two lumps of soot102.
Mrs. Jericho and her daughters were alike disenchanted. The very moment Jericho passed away in flame, they found themselves in garments of tinder.
And thus were all things of the Man made of Money—things of dust and ashes.
The night has passed, and day—lovely summer time—smiles a benison103 upon the world. The Halcyon, with her sea-pilgrims aboard, lies-to off the western shore. There are two voyagers yet to come. And there—a thing no bigger than a nautilus—a boat comes shooting out; tussling and bounding with the breeze and sea, and now fairly leaping from wave to wave towards the ship, as with the instinct of some creature towards its parent breast. “There they are!” shouts Carraways, and his wife cries and laughs—and Jenny Topps jumps about—and Robert claps his hands—and Old White blesses himself—and Doctor Dodo smiles, and Mrs. Dodo is so happy—and the nine children Dodos—baby at the breast counting for nothing—give a scream and a shout of delight!
Another minute, and the boat is alongside. And there are [Pg 283]bride and bridegroom,—there is Bessy with such happiness filling her good face, with Basil’s arm around her—and Basil looking proud of his treasure! Another minute, and Bessy is upon the deck in her mother’s arms; and Basil grasps the hand of father Carraways.
Captain Goodbody’s eye—he sees all but says little—glistens at the meeting. The boat’s cast off—all’s right.
“’Bout ship!” cries the Captain. The yards swing round; the canvas fills as with the breath of good spirits. May such await the trusting and courageous hearts our vessel104 carries—await on them and all who, seeking a new home, sail the mighty deep!
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albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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pumpkin
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| n.南瓜 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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wanly
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| adv.虚弱地；苍白地，无血色地 | |
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fattening
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| adj.（食物）要使人发胖的v.喂肥( fatten的现在分词 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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despoiled
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| v.掠夺，抢劫( despoil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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beguiled
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| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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crucible
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| n.坩锅，严酷的考验 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mincing
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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reimburse
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savage
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fermented
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moody
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sleek
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devoured
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slippers
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consolation
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miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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plunder
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wreck
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crouched
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sordid
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bent
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mansion
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descended
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hyena
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supplicate
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utterly
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spouse
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maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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misery
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eloquent
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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persecutor
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| n. 迫害者 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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holder
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| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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49
scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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51
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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52
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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53
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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crumble
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| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
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gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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60
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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61
founders
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| n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
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ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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avarice
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| n.贪婪；贪心 | |
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withheld
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| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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76
spoke
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| 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 | |
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dastard
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| n.卑怯之人，懦夫；adj.怯懦的，畏缩的 | |
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ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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sterling
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| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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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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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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halcyon
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| n.平静的，愉快的 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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glides
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| n.滑行( glide的名词复数 )；滑音；音渡；过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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hoarded
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| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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99
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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100
charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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101
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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102
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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103
benison
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| n.祝福 | |
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104
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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