They were not long in reaching the barracks, for the officer who commanded the party was desirous to avoid rousing the people by the display of military force in the streets, and was humanely1 anxious to give as little opportunity as possible for any attempt at rescue; knowing that it must lead to bloodshed and loss of life, and that if the civil authorities by whom he was accompanied, empowered him to order his men to fire, many innocent persons would probably fall, whom curiosity or idleness had attracted to the spot. He therefore led the party briskly on, avoiding with a merciful prudence2 the more public and crowded thoroughfares, and pursuing those which he deemed least likely to be infested3 by disorderly persons. This wise proceeding4 not only enabled them to gain their quarters without any interruption, but completely baffled a body of rioters who had assembled in one of the main streets, through which it was considered certain they would pass, and who remained gathered together for the purpose of releasing the prisoner from their hands, long after they had deposited him in a place of security, closed the barrack-gates, and set a double guard at every entrance for its better protection.
Arrived at this place, poor Barnaby was marched into a stone-floored room, where there was a very powerful smell of tobacco, a strong thorough draught5 of air, and a great wooden bedstead, large enough for a score of men. Several soldiers in undress were lounging about, or eating from tin cans; military accoutrements dangled6 on rows of pegs7 along the whitewashed8 wall; and some half-dozen men lay fast asleep upon their backs, snoring in concert. After remaining here just long enough to note these things, he was marched out again, and conveyed across the parade-ground to another portion of the building.
Perhaps a man never sees so much at a glance as when he is in a situation of extremity10. The chances are a hundred to one, that if Barnaby had lounged in at the gate to look about him, he would have lounged out again with a very imperfect idea of the place, and would have remembered very little about it. But as he was taken handcuffed across the gravelled area, nothing escaped his notice. The dry, arid11 look of the dusty square, and of the bare brick building; the clothes hanging at some of the windows; and the men in their shirt-sleeves and braces12, lolling with half their bodies out of the others; the green sun-blinds at the officers’ quarters, and the little scanty13 trees in front; the drummer-boys practising in a distant courtyard; the men at drill on the parade; the two soldiers carrying a basket between them, who winked14 to each other as he went by, and slily pointed15 to their throats; the spruce serjeant who hurried past with a cane16 in his hand, and under his arm a clasped book with a vellum cover; the fellows in the ground-floor rooms, furbishing and brushing up their different articles of dress, who stopped to look at him, and whose voices as they spoke17 together echoed loudly through the empty galleries and passages;— everything, down to the stand of muskets19 before the guard-house, and the drum with a pipe-clayed belt attached, in one corner, impressed itself upon his observation, as though he had noticed them in the same place a hundred times, or had been a whole day among them, in place of one brief hurried minute.
He was taken into a small paved back yard, and there they opened a great door, plated with iron, and pierced some five feet above the ground with a few holes to let in air and light. Into this dungeon20 he was walked straightway; and having locked him up there, and placed a sentry21 over him, they left him to his meditations22.
The cell, or black hole, for it had those words painted on the door, was very dark, and having recently accommodated a drunken deserter, by no means clean. Barnaby felt his way to some straw at the farther end, and looking towards the door, tried to accustom23 himself to the gloom, which, coming from the bright sunshine out of doors, was not an easy task.
There was a kind of portico24 or colonnade25 outside, and this obstructed26 even the little light that at the best could have found its way through the small apertures27 in the door. The footsteps of the sentinel echoed monotonously28 as he paced its stone pavement to and fro (reminding Barnaby of the watch he had so lately kept himself); and as he passed and repassed the door, he made the cell for an instant so black by the interposition of his body, that his going away again seemed like the appearance of a new ray of light, and was quite a circumstance to look for.
When the prisoner had sat sometime upon the ground, gazing at the chinks, and listening to the advancing and receding29 footsteps of his guard, the man stood still upon his post. Barnaby, quite unable to think, or to speculate on what would be done with him, had been lulled30 into a kind of doze9 by his regular pace; but his stopping roused him; and then he became aware that two men were in conversation under the colonnade, and very near the door of his cell.
How long they had been talking there, he could not tell, for he had fallen into an unconsciousness of his real position, and when the footsteps ceased, was answering aloud some question which seemed to have been put to him by Hugh in the stable, though of the fancied purport31, either of question or reply, notwithstanding that he awoke with the latter on his lips, he had no recollection whatever. The first words that reached his ears, were these:
‘Why is he brought here then, if he has to be taken away again so soon?’
‘Why where would you have him go! Damme, he’s not as safe anywhere as among the king’s troops, is he? What WOULD you do with him? Would you hand him over to a pack of cowardly civilians33, that shake in their shoes till they wear the soles out, with trembling at the threats of the ragamuffins he belongs to?’
‘That’s true enough.’
‘True enough!— I’ll tell you what. I wish, Tom Green, that I was a commissioned instead of a non-commissioned officer, and that I had the command of two companies — only two companies — of my own regiment34. Call me out to stop these riots — give me the needful authority, and half-a-dozen rounds of ball cartridge35 —’
‘Ay!’ said the other voice. ‘That’s all very well, but they won’t give the needful authority. If the magistrate36 won’t give the word, what’s the officer to do?’
Not very well knowing, as it seemed, how to overcome this difficulty, the other man contented37 himself with damning the magistrates38.
‘With all my heart,’ said his friend.
‘Where’s the use of a magistrate?’ returned the other voice. ‘What’s a magistrate in this case, but an impertinent, unnecessary, unconstitutional sort of interference? Here’s a proclamation. Here’s a man referred to in that proclamation. Here’s proof against him, and a witness on the spot. Damme! Take him out and shoot him, sir. Who wants a magistrate?’
‘When does he go before Sir John Fielding?’ asked the man who had spoken first.
‘To-night at eight o’clock,’ returned the other. ‘Mark what follows. The magistrate commits him to Newgate. Our people take him to Newgate. The rioters pelt39 our people. Our people retire before the rioters. Stones are thrown, insults are offered, not a shot’s fired. Why? Because of the magistrates. Damn the magistrates!’
When he had in some degree relieved his mind by cursing the magistrates in various other forms of speech, the man was silent, save for a low growling40, still having reference to those authorities, which from time to time escaped him.
Barnaby, who had wit enough to know that this conversation concerned, and very nearly concerned, himself, remained perfectly41 quiet until they ceased to speak, when he groped his way to the door, and peeping through the air-holes, tried to make out what kind of men they were, to whom he had been listening.
The one who condemned42 the civil power in such strong terms, was a serjeant — engaged just then, as the streaming ribands in his cap announced, on the recruiting service. He stood leaning sideways against a pillar nearly opposite the door, and as he growled43 to himself, drew figures on the pavement with his cane. The other man had his back towards the dungeon, and Barnaby could only see his form. To judge from that, he was a gallant44, manly45, handsome fellow, but he had lost his left arm. It had been taken off between the elbow and the shoulder, and his empty coat-sleeve hung across his breast.
It was probably this circumstance which gave him an interest beyond any that his companion could boast of, and attracted Barnaby’s attention. There was something soldierly in his bearing, and he wore a jaunty46 cap and jacket. Perhaps he had been in the service at one time or other. If he had, it could not have been very long ago, for he was but a young fellow now.
‘Well, well,’ he said thoughtfully; ‘let the fault be where it may, it makes a man sorrowful to come back to old England, and see her in this condition.’
‘I suppose the pigs will join ’em next,’ said the serjeant, with an imprecation on the rioters, ‘now that the birds have set ’em the example.’
‘The birds!’ repeated Tom Green.
‘Ah — birds,’ said the serjeant testily47; ‘that’s English, an’t it?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Go to the guard-house, and see. You’ll find a bird there, that’s got their cry as pat as any of ’em, and bawls48 “No Popery,” like a man — or like a devil, as he says he is. I shouldn’t wonder. The devil’s loose in London somewhere. Damme if I wouldn’t twist his neck round, on the chance, if I had MY way.’
The young man had taken two or three steps away, as if to go and see this creature, when he was arrested by the voice of Barnaby.
‘It’s mine,’ he called out, half laughing and half weeping —‘my pet, my friend Grip. Ha ha ha! Don’t hurt him, he has done no harm. I taught him; it’s my fault. Let me have him, if you please. He’s the only friend I have left now. He’ll not dance, or talk, or whistle for you, I know; but he will for me, because he knows me and loves me — though you wouldn’t think it — very well. You wouldn’t hurt a bird, I’m sure. You’re a brave soldier, sir, and wouldn’t harm a woman or a child — no, no, nor a poor bird, I’m certain.’
This latter adjuration49 was addressed to the serjeant, whom Barnaby judged from his red coat to be high in office, and able to seal Grip’s destiny by a word. But that gentleman, in reply, surlily damned him for a thief and rebel as he was, and with many disinterested50 imprecations on his own eyes, liver, blood, and body, assured him that if it rested with him to decide, he would put a final stopper on the bird, and his master too.
‘You talk boldly to a caged man,’ said Barnaby, in anger. ‘If I was on the other side of the door and there were none to part us, you’d change your note — ay, you may toss your head — you would! Kill the bird — do. Kill anything you can, and so revenge yourself on those who with their bare hands untied51 could do as much to you!’
Having vented52 his defiance53, he flung himself into the furthest corner of his prison, and muttering, ‘Good bye, Grip — good bye, dear old Grip!’ shed tears for the first time since he had been taken captive; and hid his face in the straw.
He had had some fancy at first, that the one-armed man would help him, or would give him a kind word in answer. He hardly knew why, but he hoped and thought so. The young fellow had stopped when he called out, and checking himself in the very act of turning round, stood listening to every word he said. Perhaps he built his feeble trust on this; perhaps on his being young, and having a frank and honest manner. However that might be, he built on sand. The other went away directly he had finished speaking, and neither answered him, nor returned. No matter. They were all against him here: he might have known as much. Good bye, old Grip, good bye!
After some time, they came and unlocked the door, and called to him to come out. He rose directly, and complied, for he would not have THEM think he was subdued54 or frightened. He walked out like a man, and looked from face to face.
None of them returned his gaze or seemed to notice it. They marched him back to the parade by the way they had brought him, and there they halted, among a body of soldiers, at least twice as numerous as that which had taken him prisoner in the afternoon. The officer he had seen before, bade him in a few brief words take notice that if he attempted to escape, no matter how favourable55 a chance he might suppose he had, certain of the men had orders to fire upon him, that moment. They then closed round him as before, and marched him off again.
In the same unbroken order they arrived at Bow Street, followed and beset56 on all sides by a crowd which was continually increasing. Here he was placed before a blind gentleman, and asked if he wished to say anything. Not he. What had he got to tell them? After a very little talking, which he was careless of and quite indifferent to, they told him he was to go to Newgate, and took him away.
He went out into the street, so surrounded and hemmed57 in on every side by soldiers, that he could see nothing; but he knew there was a great crowd of people, by the murmur58; and that they were not friendly to the soldiers, was soon rendered evident by their yells and hisses59. How often and how eagerly he listened for the voice of Hugh! There was not a voice he knew among them all. Was Hugh a prisoner too? Was there no hope!
As they came nearer and nearer to the prison, the hootings of the people grew more violent; stones were thrown; and every now and then, a rush was made against the soldiers, which they staggered under. One of them, close before him, smarting under a blow upon the temple, levelled his musket18, but the officer struck it upwards60 with his sword, and ordered him on peril61 of his life to desist. This was the last thing he saw with any distinctness, for directly afterwards he was tossed about, and beaten to and fro, as though in a tempestuous62 sea. But go where he would, there were the same guards about him. Twice or thrice he was thrown down, and so were they; but even then, he could not elude63 their vigilance for a moment. They were up again, and had closed about him, before he, with his wrists so tightly bound, could scramble64 to his feet. Fenced in, thus, he felt himself hoisted65 to the top of a low flight of steps, and then for a moment he caught a glimpse of the fighting in the crowd, and of a few red coats sprinkled together, here and there, struggling to rejoin their fellows. Next moment, everything was dark and gloomy, and he was standing32 in the prison lobby; the centre of a group of men.
A smith was speedily in attendance, who riveted66 upon him a set of heavy irons. Stumbling on as well as he could, beneath the unusual burden of these fetters67, he was conducted to a strong stone cell, where, fastening the door with locks, and bolts, and chains, they left him, well secured; having first, unseen by him, thrust in Grip, who, with his head drooping68 and his deep black plumes69 rough and rumpled70, appeared to comprehend and to partake, his master’s fallen fortunes.
收听单词发音 |
1
humanely
|
|
| adv.仁慈地；人道地；富人情地；慈悲地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
infested
|
|
| adj.为患的，大批滋生的（常与with搭配）v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 )；遍布于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
dangled
|
|
| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
pegs
|
|
| n.衣夹( peg的名词复数 )；挂钉；系帐篷的桩；弦钮v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的第三人称单数 )；使固定在某水平 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
whitewashed
|
|
| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
doze
|
|
| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
arid
|
|
| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
braces
|
|
| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
scanty
|
|
| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
winked
|
|
| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
cane
|
|
| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
musket
|
|
| n.滑膛枪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
muskets
|
|
| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
dungeon
|
|
| n.地牢，土牢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
sentry
|
|
| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
meditations
|
|
| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
accustom
|
|
| vt.使适应，使习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
portico
|
|
| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
colonnade
|
|
| n.柱廊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
obstructed
|
|
| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
apertures
|
|
| n.孔( aperture的名词复数 )；隙缝；（照相机的）光圈；孔径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
monotonously
|
|
| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
receding
|
|
| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
lulled
|
|
| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
purport
|
|
| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
civilians
|
|
| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
regiment
|
|
| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
cartridge
|
|
| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
magistrate
|
|
| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
magistrates
|
|
| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
pelt
|
|
| v.投掷，剥皮，抨击，开火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
growling
|
|
| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
growled
|
|
| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
gallant
|
|
| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
manly
|
|
| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
jaunty
|
|
| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
testily
|
|
| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
bawls
|
|
| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的第三人称单数 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
adjuration
|
|
| n.祈求，命令 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
disinterested
|
|
| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
untied
|
|
| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
vented
|
|
| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
defiance
|
|
| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
favourable
|
|
| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
beset
|
|
| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
hemmed
|
|
| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
hisses
|
|
| 嘶嘶声( hiss的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
tempestuous
|
|
| adj.狂暴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
elude
|
|
| v.躲避，困惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
scramble
|
|
| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
hoisted
|
|
| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
riveted
|
|
| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
fetters
|
|
| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
drooping
|
|
| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
plumes
|
|
| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
rumpled
|
|
| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |