Concerning the Colour of Men's HairIt was a maxim1 of my Uncle William's that no man should passthrough Paris without spending four-and-twenty hours there. My unclespoke out of a ripe experience of the world, and I honoured his advice byputting up for a day and a night at "The Continental3" on my way to--theTyrol. I called on George Featherly at the Embassy, and we had a bit ofdinner together at Durand's, and afterwards dropped in to the Opera; andafter that we had a little supper, and after that we called on BertramBertrand, a versifier of some repute and Paris correspondent to The Critic.
He had a very comfortable suite4 of rooms, and we found some pleasantfellows smoking and talking. It struck me, however, that Bertram himselfwas absent and in low spirits, and when everybody except ourselves hadgone, I rallied him on his moping preoccupation. He fenced with me for awhile, but at last, flinging himself on a sofa, he exclaimed:
"Very well; have it your own way. I am in love--infernally in love!""Oh, you'll write the better poetry," said I, by way of consolation5.
He ruffled6 his hair with his hand and smoked furiously. GeorgeFeatherly, standing7 with his back to the mantelpiece, smiled unkindly.
"If it's the old affair," said he, "you may as well throw it up, Bert. She'sleaving Paris tomorrow.""I know that," snapped Bertram.
"Not that it would make any difference if she stayed," pursued therelentless George. "She flies higher than the paper trade, my boy!""Hang her!" said Bertram.
"It would make it more interesting for me," I ventured to observe, "if Iknew who you were talking about.""Antoinette Mauban," said George.
"De Mauban," growled9 Bertram.
"Oho!" said I, passing by the question of the `de'. "You don't mean tosay, Bert--?""Can't you let me alone?""Where's she going to?" I asked, for the lady was something of acelebrity.
George jingled10 his money, smiled cruelly at poor Bertram, andanswered pleasantly:
"Nobody knows. By the way, Bert, I met a great man at her house theother night--at least, about a month ago. Did you ever meet him--the Dukeof Strelsau?""Yes, I did," growled Bertram.
"An extremely accomplished11 man, I thought him."It was not hard to see that George's references to the duke wereintended to aggravate12 poor Bertram's sufferings, so that I drew theinference that the duke had distinguished13 Madame de Mauban by hisattentions. She was a widow, rich, handsome, and, according to repute,ambitious. It was quite possible that she, as George put it, was flying ashigh as a personage who was everything he could be, short of enjoyingstrictly royal rank: for the duke was the son of the late King of Ruritaniaby a second and morganatic marriage, and half-brother to the new King.
He had been his father's favourite, and it had occasioned someunfavourable comment when he had been created a duke, with a titlederived from no less a city than the capital itself. His mother had been ofgood, but not exalted14, birth.
"He's not in Paris now, is he?" I asked.
"Oh no! He's gone back to be present at the King's coronation; aceremony which, I should say, he'll not enjoy much. But, Bert, old man,don't despair! He won't marry the fair Antoinette-- at least, not unlessanother plan comes to nothing. Still perhaps she--" He paused and added,with a laugh: "Royal attentions are hard to resist--you know that, don't you,Rudolf?""Confound you!" said I; and rising, I left the hapless Bertram inGeorge's hands and went home to bed.
The next day George Featherly went with me to the station, where Itook a ticket for Dresden.
"Going to see the pictures?" asked George, with a grin.
George is an inveterate15 gossip, and had I told him that I was off toRuritania, the news would have been in London in three days and in ParkLane in a week. I was, therefore, about to return an evasive answer, whenhe saved my conscience by leaving me suddenly and darting16 across theplatform. Following him with my eyes, I saw him lift his hat and accost17 agraceful, fashionably dressed woman who had just appeared from thebooking-office. She was, perhaps, a year or two over thirty, tall, dark, andof rather full figure. As George talked, I saw her glance at me, and myvanity was hurt by the thought that, muffled18 in a fur coat and a neck-wrapper (for it was a chilly19 April day) and wearing a soft travelling hatpulled down to my ears, I must be looking very far from my best. Amoment later, George rejoined me.
"You've got a charming travelling companion," he said. "That's poorBert Bertrand's goddess, Antoinette de Mauban, and, like you, she's goingto Dresden--also, no doubt, to see the pictures. It's very queer, though, thatshe doesn't at present desire the honour of your acquaintance.""I didn't ask to be introduced," I observed, a little annoyed.
"Well, I offered to bring you to her; but she said, "Another time."Never mind, old fellow, perhaps there'll be a smash, and you'll have achance of rescuing her and cutting out the Duke of Strelsau!"No smash, however, happened, either to me or to Madame de Mauban.
I can speak for her as confidently as for myself; for when, after a night'srest in Dresden, I continued my journey, she got into the same train.
Understanding that she wished to be let alone, I avoided her carefully, butI saw that she went the same way as I did to the very end of my journey,and I took opportunities of having a good look at her, when I could do sounobserved.
As soon as we reached the Ruritanian frontier (where the old officerwho presided over the Custom House favoured me with such a stare that Ifelt surer than before of my Elphberg physiognomy), I bought the papers,and found in them news which affected20 my movements. For some reason,which was not clearly explained, and seemed to be something of a mystery,the date of the coronation had been suddenly advanced, and the ceremonywas to take place on the next day but one. The whole country seemed in astir about it, and it was evident that Strelsau was thronged21. Rooms were all let and hotels overflowing22; there would be very little chance of myobtaining a lodging23, and I should certainly have to pay an exorbitantcharge for it. I made up my mind to stop at Zenda, a small town fifty milesshort of the capital, and about ten from the frontier. My train reached therein the evening; I would spend the next day, Tuesday, in a wander over thehills, which were said to be very fine, and in taking a glance at the famousCastle, and go over by train to Strelsau on the Wednesday morning,returning at night to sleep at Zenda.
Accordingly at Zenda I got out, and as the train passed where I stoodon the platform, I saw my friend Madame de Mauban in her place; clearlyshe was going through to Strelsau, having, with more providence24 than Icould boast, secured apartments there. I smiled to think how surprisedGeorge Featherly would have been to know that she and I had been fellowtravellers for so long.
I was very kindly8 received at the hotel--it was really no more than aninn--kept by a fat old lady and her two daughters. They were good, quietpeople, and seemed very little interested in the great doings at Strelsau.
The old lady's hero was the duke, for he was now, under the late King'swill, master of the Zenda estates and of the Castle, which rose grandly onits steep hill at the end of the valley a mile or so from the inn. The old lady,indeed, did not hesitate to express regret that the duke was not on thethrone, instead of his brother.
"We know Duke Michael," said she. "He has always lived among us;every Ruritanian knows Duke Michael. But the King is almost a stranger;he has been so much abroad, not one in ten knows him even by sight.""And now," chimed in one of the young women, "they say he hasshaved off his beard, so that no one at all knows him.""Shaved his beard!" exclaimed her mother. "Who says so?""Johann, the duke's keeper. He has seen the King.""Ah, yes. The King, sir, is now at the duke's hunting-lodge25 in the foresthere; from here he goes to Strelsau to be crowned on Wednesdaymorning."I was interested to hear this, and made up my mind to walk next day inthe direction of the lodge, on the chance of coming across the King. The old lady ran on garrulously26:
"Ah, and I wish he would stay at his hunting--that and wine (and onething more) are all he loves, they say--and suffer our duke to be crownedon Wednesday. That I wish, and I don't care who knows it.""Hush27, mother!" urged the daughters.
"Oh, there's many to think as I do!" cried the old woman stubbornly.
I threw myself back in my deep armchair, and laughed at her zeal28.
"For my part," said the younger and prettier of the two daughters, afair, buxom29, smiling wench, "I hate Black Michael! A red Elphberg for me,mother! The King, they say, is as red as a fox or as--"And she laughed mischievously30 as she cast a glance at me, and tossedher head at her sister's reproving face.
"Many a man has cursed their red hair before now," muttered the oldlady--and I remembered James, fifth Earl of Burlesdon.
"But never a woman!" cried the girl.
"Ay, and women, when it was too late," was the stern answer, reducingthe girl to silence and blushes.
"How comes the King here?" I asked, to break an embarrassed silence.
"It is the duke's land here, you say.""The duke invited him, sir, to rest here till Wednesday. The duke is atStrelsau, preparing the King's reception.""Then they're friends?""None better," said the old lady.
But my rosy31 damsel tossed her head again; she was not to be repressedfor long, and she broke out again:
"Ay, they love one another as men do who want the same place and thesame wife!"The old woman glowered32; but the last words pricked33 my curiosity, andI interposed before she could begin scolding:
"What, the same wife, too! How's that, young lady?""All the world knows that Black Michael--well then, mother, the duke-would give his soul to marry his cousin, the Princess Flavia, and that sheis to be the queen.""Upon my word," said I, "I begin to be sorry for your duke. But if a man will be a younger son, why he must take what the elder leaves, and beas thankful to God as he can;" and, thinking of myself, I shrugged34 myshoulders and laughed. And then I thought also of Antoinette de Maubanand her journey to Strelsau.
"It's little dealing35 Black Michael has with--" began the girl, bravingher mother's anger; but as she spoke2 a heavy step sounded on the floor,and a gruff voice asked in a threatening tone:
"Who talks of "Black Michael" in his Highness's own burgh?"The girl gave a little shriek36, half of fright--half, I think, of amusement.
"You'll not tell of me, Johann?" she said.
"See where your chatter37 leads," said the old lady.
The man who had spoken came forward.
"We have company, Johann," said my hostess, and the fellow pluckedoff his cap. A moment later he saw me, and, to my amazement38, he startedback a step, as though he had seen something wonderful.
"What ails39 you, Johann?" asked the elder girl. "This is a gentleman onhis travels, come to see the coronation."The man had recovered himself, but he was staring at me with anintense, searching, almost fierce glance.
"Good evening to you," said I.
"Good evening, sir," he muttered, still scrutinizing40 me, and the merrygirl began to laugh as she called-"See, Johann, it is the colour you love! He started to see your hair, sir.
It's not the colour we see most of here in Zenda.""I crave41 your pardon, sir," stammered42 the fellow, with puzzled eyes. "Iexpected to see no one.""Give him a glass to drink my health in; and I'll bid you good night,and thanks to you, ladies, for your courtesy and pleasant conversation."So speaking, I rose to my feet, and with a slight bow turned to the door.
The young girl ran to light me on the way, and the man fell back to let mepass, his eyes still fixed43 on me. The moment I was by, he started a stepforward, asking:
"Pray, sir, do you know our King?""I never saw him," said I. "I hope to do so on Wednesday."He said no more, but I felt his eyes following me till the door closedbehind me. My saucy44 conductor, looking over her shoulder at me as shepreceded me upstairs, said:
"There's no pleasing Master Johann for one of your colour, sir.""He prefers yours, maybe?" I suggested.
"I meant, sir, in a man," she answered, with a coquettish glance.
"What," asked I, taking hold of the other side of the candlestick, "doescolour matter in a man?""Nay45, but I love yours--it's the Elphberg red.""Colour in a man," said I, "is a matter of no more moment than that!' -andI gave her something of no value.
"God send the kitchen door be shut!" said she.
"Amen!" said I, and left her.
In fact, however, as I now know, colour is sometimes of considerablemoment to a man.
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maxim
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| n.格言，箴言 | |
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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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continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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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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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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growled
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| 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 | |
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jingled
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| 喝醉的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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aggravate
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| vt.加重(剧)，使恶化；激怒，使恼火 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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inveterate
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| adj.积习已深的，根深蒂固的 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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accost
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| v.向人搭话，打招呼 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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garrulously
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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glowered
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| v.怒视( glower的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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scrutinizing
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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45
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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