At about half-past six that evening, Puddock arrived at Captain Cluffe’s lodgings1, and for the last time the minstrels rehearsed their lovelorn and passionate2 ditties. They were drest ‘all in their best,’ under that outer covering, which partly for mystery and partly for bodily comfort — the wind, after the heavy rains of the last week, having come round to the east — these prudent3 troubadours wore.
Though they hardly glanced at the topic to one another, each had his delightful4 anticipations5 of the chances of the meeting. Puddock did not value Dangerfield a rush, and Cluffe’s mind was pretty easy upon that point from the moment his proposal for Gertrude Chattesworth had taken wind.
Only for that cursed shower the other night, that made it incumbent6 on Cluffe, who had had two or three sharp little visits of his patrimonial7 gout, and no notion of dying for love, to get to his quarters as quickly as might be-he had no doubt that the last stave of their first duet rising from the meadow of Belmont, with that charming roulade — devised by Puddock, and the pathetic twang-twang of his romantic instrument, would have been answered by the opening of the drawing-room window, and Aunt Becky’s imperious summons to the serenaders to declare themselves, and come in and partake of supper!
The only thing that at all puzzled him, unpleasantly connected with that unsuccessful little freak of musical love-making, was the fellow they saw getting away from under the open window — the very same at which Lilias Walsingham had unintentionally surprised her friend Gertrude. He had a surtout on, with the cape8 cut exactly after the fashion of Dangerfield, and a three-cocked hat with very pinched corners, in the French style, which identical hat Cluffe was ready to swear he saw upon Dangerfield’s head very early one morning, as he accidentally espied9 him viewing his peas and tulips in the little garden of the Brass10 Castle by the river side.
’Twas fixed11, in fact, in Cluffe’s mind that Dangerfield was the man; and what the plague need had a declared lover of any such clandestine12 manoeuvres. Was it possible that the old scoundrel was, after all, directing his night visits differently, and keeping the aunt in play, as a reserve, in the event of the failure of his suit to the niece? Plans as gross, he knew, had succeeded; old women were so devilish easily won, and loved money too, so well sometimes.
These sly fellows agreed that they must not go to Belmont by Chapelizod-bridge, which would lead them through the town, in front of the barrack, and under the very sign-board of the Phoenix13. No, they would go by the Knockmaroon-road, cross the river by the ferry, and unperceived, and unsuspected, enter the grounds of Belmont on the further side.
So away went the amorous14 musicians, favoured by the darkness, and talking in an undertone, and thinking more than they talked, while little Puddock, from under his cloak, scratched a faint little arpeggio and a chord, ever and anon, upon ‘the inthrument.’
When they reached the ferry, the boat was tied at the near side, but deuce a ferryman could they see. So they began to shout and hallo, singly, and together, until Cluffe, in much ire and disgust, exclaimed —
‘Curse the sot — drunk in some whiskey-shop — the blackguard! That is the way such scoundrels throw away their chances, and help to fill the high roads with beggars and thieves; curse him, I sha’n’t have a note left if we go on bawling15 this way. I suppose we must go home again.’
‘Fiddle-thtick!’ exclaimed the magnanimous Puddock. ‘I pulled myself across little more than a year ago, and ’twas as easy as — as — anything. Get in, an’ loose her when I tell you.’
This boat was managed by means of a rope stretched across the stream from bank to bank; seizing which, in both hands, the boatman, as he stood in his skiff, hauled it, as it seemed, with very moderate exertion16 across the river.
Cluffe chuckled17 as he thought how sold the rascally18 boatman would be, on returning, to find his bark gone over to the other side.
‘Don’t be uneathy about the poor fellow,’ said Puddock; ‘we’ll come down in the morning and make him a present, and explain how it occurred.’
‘Explain yourself — poor fellow, be hanged!’ muttered Cluffe, as he took his seat, for he did not part with his silver lightly. ‘I say, Puddock, tell me when I’m to slip the rope.’
The signal given, Cluffe let go, entertaining himself with a little jingle19 of Puddock’s guitar, of which he had charge, and a verse or two of their last song; while the plump little lieutenant20, standing21 upright, midships in the boat, hauled away, though not quite so deftly22 as was desirable. Some two or three minutes had passed before they reached the middle of the stream, which was, as Puddock afterwards remarked, ‘gigantically thwollen;’ and at this point they came to something very like a stand-still.
‘I say, Puddock, keep her head a little more up the stream, will you?’ said Cluffe, thinking no evil, and only to show his nautical23 knowledge.
‘It’s easy to say keep her head up the stream,’ gasped24 Puddock who was now labouring fearfully, and quite crimson25 in the face, tugging26 his words up with a desperate lisp, and too much out of breath to say more.
The shades of the night and the roar of the waters prevented Cluffe observing these omens27 aright.
‘What the plague are you doing now? cried Cluffe, arresting a decorative28 passage in the middle, and for the first time seriously uncomfortable, as the boat slowly spun29 round, bringing what Cluffe called her head — though head and tail were pretty much alike — toward the bank they had quitted.
‘Curse you, Puddock, why — what are you going back for? you can’t do it.’
‘Lend a hand,’ bawled30 Puddock, in extremity31. ‘I say, help, seize the rope; I say, Cluffe, quick, Sir, my arms are breaking.’
There was no exaggeration in this — there seldom was in any thing Puddock said; and the turn of the boat had twisted his arms like the strands32 of a rope.
‘Hold on, Puddock, curse you, I’m comin’,’ roared Cluffe, quite alive to the situation. ‘If you let go, I’m diddled but I’ll shoot you.’
‘Catch the rope, I thay, Thir, or ‘tith all over!’
Cluffe, who had only known that he was slowly spinning round, and that Puddock was going to commit him to the waves, made a vehement33 exertion to catch the rope, but it was out of reach, and the boat rocked so suddenly from his rising, that he sat down by mistake again, with a violent plump that made his teeth gnash, in his own place; and the shock and his alarm stimulated34 his anger.
‘Hold on, Sir; hold on, you little devil, I say, one minute, here — hold — hollo!’
While Cluffe was shouting these words, and scrambling35 forward, Puddock was crying —
‘Curth it, Cluffe, quick — oh! hang it, I can’t thtand it — bleth my thoul!
And Puddock let go, and the boat and its precious freightage, with a horrid36 whisk and a sweep, commenced its seaward career in the dark.
‘Take the oars37, Sir, hang you!’ cried Cluffe.
‘There are no oarth,’ replied Puddock, solemnly.
‘Or the helm.’
‘There’th no helm.’
‘And what the devil, Sir?’ and a splash of cold water soused the silken calves38 of Cluffe at this moment.
‘Heugh! heugh!— and what the devil will you do, Sir? you don’t want to drown me, I suppose?’ roared Cluffe, holding hard by the gunwale.
‘You can thwim, Cluffe; jump in, and don’t mind me,’ said little Puddock, sublimely39.
Cluffe, who was a bit of a boaster, had bragged40, one evening at mess, of his swimming, which he said was famous in his school days; ’twas a lie, but Puddock believed it implicitly41.
‘Thank you!’ roared Cluffe. ‘Swim, indeed!— buttoned up this way — and — and the gout too.’
‘I say, Cluffe, save the guitar, if you can,’ said Puddock.
In reply, Cluffe cursed that instrument through his teeth, with positive fury, and its owner; and, indeed, he was so incensed42 at this unfeeling request, that if he had known where it was, I think he would have gone nigh to smash it on Puddock’s head, or at least, like the ‘Minstrel Boy,’ to tear its chords asunder43; for Cluffe was hot, especially when he was frightened. But he forgot — though it was hanging at that moment by a pretty scarlet44 and gold ribbon about his neck.
‘Guitar be diddled!’ cried he; ‘’tis gone — where we’re going — to the bottom. What devil possessed45 you, Sir, to drown us this way?’
Puddock sighed. They were passing at this moment the quiet banks of the pleasant meadow of Belmont, and the lights twinkled from the bow-window in the drawing-room. I don’t know whether Puddock saw them — Cluffe certainly did not.
‘Hallo! hallo!— a rope!’ cried Cluffe, who had hit upon this desperate expedient46 for raising the neighbourhood. ‘A rope — a rope! hallo! hallo!— a ro-o-o-ope!’
And Aunt Becky, who heard the wild whooping47, mistook it for drunken fellows at their diversions, and delivered her sentiments in the drawing-room accordingly.
1 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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2 passionate | |
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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3 prudent | |
adj.谨慎的,有远见的,精打细算的 | |
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4 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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5 anticipations | |
预期( anticipation的名词复数 ); 预测; (信托财产收益的)预支; 预期的事物 | |
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6 incumbent | |
adj.成为责任的,有义务的;现任的,在职的 | |
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7 patrimonial | |
adj.祖传的 | |
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8 cape | |
n.海角,岬;披肩,短披风 | |
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9 espied | |
v.看到( espy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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11 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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12 clandestine | |
adj.秘密的,暗中从事的 | |
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13 phoenix | |
n.凤凰,长生(不死)鸟;引申为重生 | |
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14 amorous | |
adj.多情的;有关爱情的 | |
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15 bawling | |
v.大叫,大喊( bawl的现在分词 );放声大哭;大声叫出;叫卖(货物) | |
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16 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
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17 chuckled | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18 rascally | |
adj. 无赖的,恶棍的 adv. 无赖地,卑鄙地 | |
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19 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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20 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
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21 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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22 deftly | |
adv.灵巧地,熟练地,敏捷地 | |
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23 nautical | |
adj.海上的,航海的,船员的 | |
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24 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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25 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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26 tugging | |
n.牵引感v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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27 omens | |
n.前兆,预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
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28 decorative | |
adj.装饰的,可作装饰的 | |
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29 spun | |
v.纺,杜撰,急转身 | |
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30 bawled | |
v.大叫,大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 );放声大哭;大声叫出;叫卖(货物) | |
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31 extremity | |
n.末端,尽头;尽力;终极;极度 | |
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32 strands | |
n.(线、绳、金属线、毛发等的)股( strand的名词复数 );缕;海洋、湖或河的)岸;(观点、计划、故事等的)部份v.使滞留,使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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33 vehement | |
adj.感情强烈的;热烈的;(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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34 stimulated | |
a.刺激的 | |
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35 scrambling | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
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36 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
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37 oars | |
n.桨,橹( oar的名词复数 );划手v.划(行)( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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38 calves | |
n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子,腓;腿肚子( calf的名词复数 );牛犊;腓;小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 );(冰川)崩解;生(小牛等),产(犊);使(冰川)崩解 | |
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39 sublimely | |
高尚地,卓越地 | |
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40 bragged | |
v.自夸,吹嘘( brag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41 implicitly | |
adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
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42 incensed | |
盛怒的 | |
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43 asunder | |
adj.分离的,化为碎片 | |
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44 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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45 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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46 expedient | |
adj.有用的,有利的;n.紧急的办法,权宜之计 | |
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47 whooping | |
发嗬嗬声的,发咳声的 | |
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