Sturk’s triumph was only momentary1. He was in ferocious2 spirits, indeed, over the breakfast-table, and bolted quantities of buttered toast and eggs, swallowed cups of tea, one after the other, almost at a single gulp3, all the time gabbling with a truculent4 volubility, and every now and then a thump5, which made his spoon jingle6 in his saucer, and poor, little Mrs. Sturk start, and whisper, ‘Oh, my dear!’ But after he had done defying and paying off the whole world, and showing his wife, and half convincing himself, that he was the cleverest and finest fellow alive, a letter was handed to him, which reminded him, in a dry, short way, of those most formidable and imminent7 dangers that rose up, apparently8 insurmountable before him; and he retired9 to his study to ruminate10 again, and chew the cud of bitter fancy, and to write letters and tear them to pieces, and, finally, as was his wont12, after hospital hours, to ride into Dublin, to bore his attorney with barren inventions and hopeless schemes of extrication13.
Sturk came home that night with a hang-dog and jaded14 look, and taciturn and half desperate. But he called for whiskey, and drank a glass of that cordial, and brewed15 a jug16 of punch in silence, and swallowed glass after glass, and got up a little, and grew courageous17 and flushed, and prated18 away, rather loud and thickly with a hiccough now and then, and got to sleep earlier than usual.
Somewhere among the ‘small hours’ of the night he awoke suddenly, recollecting19 something.
‘I have it,’ cried Sturk, with an oath, and an involuntary kick at the foot-board, that made his slumbering20 helpmate bounce.
‘What is it, Barney, dear?’ squalled she, diving under the bed-clothes, with her heart in her mouth.
‘It’s like a revelation,’ cried Sturk, with another oath; and that was all Mrs. Sturk heard of it for some time. But the surgeon was wide awake, and all alive about it, whatever it was. He sat straight up in the bed, with his lips energetically compressed, and his eyebrows21 screwed together, and his shrewd, hard eyes rolling thoughtfully over the curtains, in the dark, and now and then an ejaculation of wonder, or a short oath, would slowly rise up, and burst from his lips, like a great bubble from the fermentation.
Sturk’s brain was in a hubbub22. He had fifty plans, all jostling and clamouring together, like a nursery of unruly imps23 —‘Take me’—‘No, take me’—‘No, me!’ He had been dreaming like mad, and his sensorium was still all alive with the images of fifty phantasmagoria, filled up by imagination and conjecture24, and a strange, painfully-sharp remembrance of things past — all whirling in a carnival25 of roystering but dismal26 riot — masks and dice27, laughter, maledictions, and drumming, fair ladies, tipsy youths, mountebanks, and assassins: tinkling28 serenades, the fatal clang and rattle29 of the dice-box, and long drawn30, distant screams.
There was no more use in Sturk’s endeavours to reduce all this to order, than in reading the Riot Act to a Walpurgis gathering31. So he sat muttering unconscious ejaculations, and looking down, as it were, from his balcony, waiting for the uproar32 to abate33; and when the air did clear and cool a little, there was just one face that remained impassive, and serenely34 winked36 before his eyes.
When things arrived at this stage, and he had gathered his recollections about him, and found himself capable of thinking, being a man of action, up he bounced and struck a light, vaulted37 into his breeches, hauled on his stockings, hustled38 himself into his roquelaure, and, candle in hand, in slippered39 feet, glided40, like a ghost, down stairs to the back drawing-room, which, as we know, was his study.
The night was serene35 and breathless. The sky had cleared, and the moonlight slept mistily41 on the soft slopes of the park. The landscape was a febrifuge, and cooled and quieted his brain as he stood before it at his open window, in solitary42 meditation43. It was not till his slowly wandering eye lighted on the churchyard, with a sort of slight shock, that he again bestirred himself.
There it lay, with its white tombstones and its shadows spread under him, seeming to say —‘Ay, here I am; the narrow goal of all your plans. Not one of the glimmering44 memorials you see that does not cover what once was a living world of long-headed schemes, chequered remembrances, and well-kept secrets. Here lie your brother plotters, all in bond, only some certain inches below; with their legs straight and their arms by their sides, as when grim Captain DEATH called the stern word “attention!” with their sightless faces and unthinking foreheads turned up to the moon. Dr. Sturk, there are lots of places for you to choose among — suit yourself — here — or here — or maybe here.’
And so Sturk closed the window and remembered his dream, and looked out stealthily but sternly from the door, which was ajar, and shut it sharply, and with his hands in his breeches’ pockets, took a quick turn to the window; his soul had got into harness again, and he was busy thinking. Then he snuffed the candle, and then quickened his invention by another brisk turn; and then he opened his desk, and sat down to write a note.
‘Yes,’ said he to himself, pausing for a minute, with his pen in his fingers, ‘’tis as certain as that I sit here.’
Well, he wrote the note. There was a kind of smile on his face, which was paler than usual all the while; and he read it over, and threw himself back in his chair, and then read it over again, and did not like it, and tore it up.
Then he thought hard for a while, leaning upon his elbow; and took a couple of great pinches of snuff, and snuffed his candle again, and, as it were, snuffed his wits, and took up his pen with a little flourish, and dashed off another, and read it, and liked it, and gave it a little sidelong nod, as though he said, ‘You’ll do;’ and, indeed, considering all the time and thought he spent upon it, the composition was no great wonder, being, after all, no more than this:—
‘DEAR SIR,— Will you give me the honour of a meeting at my house this morning, as you pass through the town? I shall remain within till noon; and hope for some minutes’ private discourse45 with you.
‘Your most obedient, very humble46 servant,
‘BARNABAS STURK.’
Then he sealed it with a great red seal, large enough for a patent almost, impressed with the Sturk arms — a boar’s head for crest47, and a flaunting48 scroll49, with ‘Dentem fulmineum cave’ upon it. Then he peeped again from the window to see if the gray of the morning had come, for he had left his watch under his bolster50, and longed for the time of action.
Then up stairs went Sturk; and so, with the note, like a loaded pistol, over the chimney, he popped into bed, where he lay awake in agitating51 rumination52, determined53 to believe that he had seen the last of those awful phantoms54 — those greasy55 bailiffs — that smooth, smirking56, formidable attorney; and — curse him — that bilious57 marshal’s deputy, with the purplish, pimply58 tinge59 about the end of his nose and the tops of his cheeks, that beset60 his bed in a moving ring — this one pushing out a writ11, and that rumpling61 open a parchment deed, and the other fumbling62 with his keys, and extending his open palm for the garnish63. Avaunt. He had found out a charm to rout64 them all, and they sha’n’t now lay a finger on him — a short and sharp way to clear himself; and so I believe he had.
1 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
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2 ferocious | |
adj.凶猛的,残暴的,极度的,十分强烈的 | |
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3 gulp | |
vt.吞咽,大口地吸(气);vi.哽住;n.吞咽 | |
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4 truculent | |
adj.野蛮的,粗野的 | |
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5 thump | |
v.重击,砰然地响;n.重击,重击声 | |
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6 jingle | |
n.叮当声,韵律简单的诗句;v.使叮当作响,叮当响,押韵 | |
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7 imminent | |
adj.即将发生的,临近的,逼近的 | |
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8 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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9 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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10 ruminate | |
v.反刍;沉思 | |
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11 writ | |
n.命令状,书面命令 | |
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12 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
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13 extrication | |
n.解脱;救出,解脱 | |
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14 jaded | |
adj.精疲力竭的;厌倦的;(因过饱或过多而)腻烦的;迟钝的 | |
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15 brewed | |
调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 ); 酝酿; 沏(茶); 煮(咖啡) | |
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16 jug | |
n.(有柄,小口,可盛水等的)大壶,罐,盂 | |
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17 courageous | |
adj.勇敢的,有胆量的 | |
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18 prated | |
v.(古时用语)唠叨,啰唆( prate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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19 recollecting | |
v.记起,想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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20 slumbering | |
微睡,睡眠(slumber的现在分词形式) | |
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21 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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22 hubbub | |
n.嘈杂;骚乱 | |
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23 imps | |
n.(故事中的)小恶魔( imp的名词复数 );小魔鬼;小淘气;顽童 | |
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24 conjecture | |
n./v.推测,猜测 | |
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25 carnival | |
n.嘉年华会,狂欢,狂欢节,巡回表演 | |
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26 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
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27 dice | |
n.骰子;vt.把(食物)切成小方块,冒险 | |
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28 tinkling | |
n.丁当作响声 | |
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29 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
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30 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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31 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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32 uproar | |
n.骚动,喧嚣,鼎沸 | |
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33 abate | |
vi.(风势,疼痛等)减弱,减轻,减退 | |
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34 serenely | |
adv.安详地,宁静地,平静地 | |
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35 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
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36 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 | |
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37 vaulted | |
adj.拱状的 | |
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38 hustled | |
催促(hustle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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39 slippered | |
穿拖鞋的 | |
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40 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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41 mistily | |
adv.有雾地,朦胧地,不清楚地 | |
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42 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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43 meditation | |
n.熟虑,(尤指宗教的)默想,沉思,(pl.)冥想录 | |
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44 glimmering | |
n.微光,隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光,发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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45 discourse | |
n.论文,演说;谈话;话语;vi.讲述,著述 | |
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46 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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47 crest | |
n.顶点;饰章;羽冠;vt.达到顶点;vi.形成浪尖 | |
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48 flaunting | |
adj.招摇的,扬扬得意的,夸耀的v.炫耀,夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 );有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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49 scroll | |
n.卷轴,纸卷;(石刻上的)漩涡 | |
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50 bolster | |
n.枕垫;v.支持,鼓励 | |
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51 agitating | |
搅动( agitate的现在分词 ); 激怒; 使焦虑不安; (尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而)激烈争论 | |
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52 rumination | |
n.反刍,沉思 | |
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53 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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54 phantoms | |
n.鬼怪,幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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55 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
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56 smirking | |
v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
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57 bilious | |
adj.胆汁过多的;易怒的 | |
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58 pimply | |
adj.肿泡的;有疙瘩的;多粉刺的;有丘疹的 | |
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59 tinge | |
vt.(较淡)着色于,染色;使带有…气息;n.淡淡色彩,些微的气息 | |
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60 beset | |
v.镶嵌;困扰,包围 | |
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61 rumpling | |
v.弄皱,使凌乱( rumple的现在分词 ) | |
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62 fumbling | |
n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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63 garnish | |
n.装饰,添饰,配菜 | |
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64 rout | |
n.溃退,溃败;v.击溃,打垮 | |
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