And just on Monday morning, in the midst of this hurly-burly of conjecture1, who should arrive, of all the people in the world, and re-establish himself in his old quarters, but Dick Devereux. The gallant2 captain was more splendid and handsome than ever. But both his spirits and his habits had suffered. He had quarrelled with his aunt, and she was his bread and butter — ay, buttered on both sides. How lightly these young fellows quarrel with the foolish old worshippers who lay their gold, frankincense, and myrrh, at the feet of the handsome thankless idols3. They think it all independence and high spirit, whereas we know it is nothing but a little egotistical tyranny, that unconsciously calculates even in the heyday4 of its indulgence upon the punctual return of the penitent5 old worshipper, with his or her votive offerings.
Perhaps the gipsy had thought better of it, and was already sorry he had not kept the peace. At all events, though his toilet and wardrobe were splendid — for fine fellows in his plight6 deny themselves nothing — yet morally he was seedy, and in temper soured. His duns had found him out, and pursued him in wrath7 and alarm to England, and pestered8 him very seriously indeed. He owed money beside to several of his brother officers, and it was not pleasant to face them without a guinea. An evil propensity9, at which, as you remember, General Chattesworth hinted, had grown amid his distresses10, and the sting of self-reproach exasperated11 him. Then there was his old love for Lilias Walsingham, and the pang12 of rejection13, and the hope of a strong passion sometimes leaping high and bright, and sometimes nickering into ghastly shadows and darkness.
Indeed, he was by no means so companionable just now as in happier times, and was sometimes confoundedly morose14 and snappish — for, as you perceive, things had not gone well with him latterly. Still he was now and then tolerably like his old self.
Toole, passing by, saw him in the window. Devereux smiled and nodded, and the doctor stopped short at the railings, and grinned up in return, and threw out his arms to express surprise, and then snapped his fingers, and cut a little caper15, as though he would say —‘Now, you’re come back — we’ll have fun and fiddling16 again.’ And forthwith he began to bawl17 his enquiries and salutations. But Devereux called him up peremptorily18, for he wanted to hear the news — especially all about the Walsinghams. And up came Toole, and they had a great shaking of hands, and the doctor opened his budget and rattled19 away.
Of Sturk’s tragedy and Nutter20’s disappearance21 he had already heard. And he now heard some of the club gossip, and all about Dangerfield’s proposal for Gertrude Chattesworth, and how the old people were favourable22, and the young lady averse23 — and how Dangerfield was content to leave the question in abeyance24, and did not seem to care a jackstraw what the townspeople said or thought — and then he came to the Walsinghams, and Devereux for the first time really listened. The doctor was very well — just as usual; and wondering what had become of his old crony, Dan Loftus, from whom he had not heard for several months; and Miss Lily was not very well — a delicacy25 here (and he tapped his capacious chest), like her poor mother. ‘Pell and I consulted about her, and agreed she was to keep within doors.’ And then he went on, for he had a suspicion of the real state of relations between him and Lily, and narrated26 the occurrence rather with a view to collect evidence from his looks and manner, than from any simpler motive27; and, said he, ‘Only think, that confounded wench, Nan — you know — Nan Glynn,’ And he related her and her mother’s visit to Miss Lily, and a subsequent call made upon the rector himself — all, it must be confessed, very much as it really happened. And Devereux first grew so pale as almost to frighten Toole, and then broke into a savage28 fury — and did not spare hard words, oaths, or maledictions. Then off went Toole, when things grew quieter, upon some other theme, giggling29 and punning, spouting30 scandal and all sorts of news — and Devereux was looking full at him with large stern eyes, not hearing a word more. His soul was cursing old Mrs. Glynn, of Palmerstown — that mother of lies and what not — and remonstrating31 with old Dr. Walsingham — and protesting wildly against everything.
General Chattesworth, who returned two or three weeks after, was not half pleased to see Devereux. He had heard a good deal about him and his doings over the water, and did not like them. He had always had a misgiving32 that if Devereux remained in the corps33, sooner or later he would be obliged to come to a hard reckoning with him. And the handsome captain had not been three weeks in Chapelizod, when more than the general suspected that he was in nowise improved. So General Chattesworth did not often see or talk with him; and when he did, was rather reserved and lofty with him. His appointment on the staff was in abeyance — in fact, the vacancy34 on which it was expectant had not definitely occurred — and all things were at sixes and sevens with poor Dick Devereux.
That evening, strange to say, Sturk was still living; and Toole reported him exactly in the same condition. But what did that signify? ’Twas all one. The man was dead — as dead to all intents and purposes that moment as he would be that day twelvemonths, or that day hundred years.
Dr. Walsingham, who had just been to see poor Mrs. Sturk — now grown into the habit of hoping, and sustained by the intense quiet fuss of the sick room — stopped for a moment at the door of the Phoenix35, to answer the cronies there assembled, who had seen him emerge from the murdered man’s house.
‘He is in a profound lethargy,’ said the worthy36 divine. ‘’Tis a subsidence — his life, Sir, stealing away like the fluid from the clepsydra — less and less left every hour — a little time will measure all out.’
‘What the plague’s a clepsydra?’ asked Cluffe of Toole, as they walked side by side into the club-room.
‘Ho! pooh! one of those fabulous37 tumours38 of the epidermis39 mentioned by Pliny, you know, exploded ten centuries ago — ha, ha, ha!’ and he winked40 and laughed derisively41, and said, ‘Sure you know Doctor Walsingham.’
And the gentlemen began spouting their theories about the murder and Nutter, in a desultory42 way; for they all knew the warrant was out against him.
‘My opinion,’ said Toole, knocking out the ashes of his pipe upon the hob; for he held his tongue while smoking, and very little at any other time; ‘and I’ll lay a guinea ’twill turn out as I say — the poor fellow’s drowned himself. Few knew Nutter — I doubt if any one knew him as I did. Why he did not seem to feel anything, and you’d ha’ swore nothing affected43 him, more than that hob, Sir; and all the time, there wasn’t a more thin-skinned, atrabilious poor dog in all Ireland — but honest, Sir — thorough steel, Sir. All I say is, if he had a finger in that ugly pie, you know, as some will insist, I’ll stake my head to a china orange, ’twas a fair front to front fight. By Jupiter, Sir, there wasn’t one drop of cur’s blood in poor Nutter. No, poor fellow; neither sneak44 nor assassin there —’
‘They thought he drowned himself from his own garden — poor Nutter,’ said Major O’Neill.
‘Well, that he did not,’ said Toole. ‘That unlucky shoe, you know, tells a tale; but for all that, I’m clear of the opinion that drowned he is. We tracked the step, Lowe and I, to the bank, near the horse-track, in Barrack Street, just where the water deepens — there’s usually five feet of water there, and that night there was little short of ten. Now, take it, that Nutter and Sturk had a tussle45 — and the thing happened, you know — and Sturk got the worst of it, and was, in fact, despatched, why, you know the kind of panic — and — and — the panic — you know — a poor dog, finding himself so situated46, would be in-with the bitter, old quarrel between them — d’ye see? And this at the back of his vapours and blue-devils, for he was dumpish enough before, and would send a man like Nutter into a resolution of making away with himself; and that’s how it happened, you may safely swear.’
‘And what do you think, Mr. Dangerfield?’ asked the major.
‘Upon my life,’ said Dangerfield, briskly, lowering his newspaper to his knee, with a sharp rustle47, ‘these are questions I don’t like to meddle48 in. Certainly, he had considerable provocation49, as I happen to know; and there was no love lost — that I know too. But I quite agree with Doctor Toole — if he was the man, I venture to say ’twas a fair fight. Suppose, first, an altercation50, then a hasty blow — Sturk had his cane51, and a deuced heavy one — he wasn’t a fellow to go down without knowing the reason why; and if they find Nutter, dead or alive, I venture to say he’ll show some marks of it about him.’
Cluffe wished the whole company, except himself, at the bottom of the Red Sea; for he was taking his revenge of Puddock, and had already lost a gammon and two hits. Little Puddock won by the force of the dice52. He was not much of a player; and the sight of Dangerfield — that repulsive53, impenetrable, moneyed man, who had ‘overcome him like a summer cloud,’ when the sky of his fortunes looked clearest and sunniest, always led him to Belmont, and the side of his lady-love.
If Cluffe’s mind wandered in that direction, his reveries were rather comfortable. He had his own opinion about his progress with Aunt Rebecca, who had come to like his conversation, and talked with him a great deal about Puddock, and always with acerbity54; Cluffe, who was a sort of patron of Puddock’s, always, to do him justice, defended him respectfully. And Aunt Rebecca would listen very attentively55, and then shake her head, and say, ‘You’re a great deal too good-natured, captain; and he’ll never thank you for your pains, never — I can tell you.’
Well, Cluffe knew that the higher powers favoured Dangerfield; and that, beside his absurd sentiment, not to say passion, which could not but be provoking, Puddock’s complicity in the abortive56 hostilities57 of poor Nutter and the gallant O’Flaherty rankled58 in Aunt Becky’s heart. She was, indeed, usually appeasable and forgiving enough; but in this case her dislike seemed inveterate59 and vindictive60; and she would say —
‘Well, let’s talk no more of him; ’tis easy finding a more agreeable subject: but you can’t deny, captain, that ’twas an unworthy hypocrisy61 his pretending to sentiments against duelling to me, and then engaging as second in one on the very first opportunity that presented.’
Then Cluffe would argue his case, and plead his excuses, and fumbled62 over it a good while; not that he’d have cried a great deal if Puddock had been hanged; but, I’m afraid, chiefly because, being a fellow of more gaiety and accomplishment63 than quickness of invention, it was rather convenient, than otherwise, to have a topic, no matter what, supplied to him, and one that put him in an amiable64 point of view, and in a kind of graceful65, intercessorial relation to the object of his highly prudent66 passion. And Cluffe thought how patiently she heard him, though he was conscious ’twas rather tedious, and one time very like another. But then, ‘twasn’t the talk, but the talker; and he was glad, at all risks, to help poor Puddock out of his disgrace, like a generous soul, as he was.
收听单词发音 |
1
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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idols
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| 偶像( idol的名词复数 )； 受崇拜的人或物； 受到热爱和崇拜的人或物； 神像 | |
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heyday
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| n.全盛时期，青春期 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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pestered
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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propensity
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| n.倾向；习性 | |
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distresses
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| n.悲痛( distress的名词复数 )；痛苦；贫困；危险 | |
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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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rejection
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| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
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morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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caper
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| v.雀跃，欢蹦；n.雀跃，跳跃；续随子，刺山柑花蕾；嬉戏 | |
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16
fiddling
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| 微小的 | |
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bawl
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| v.大喊大叫，大声地喊，咆哮 | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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nutter
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| n.疯子 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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averse
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| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
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abeyance
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| n.搁置，缓办，中止，产权未定 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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narrated
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| v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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31
remonstrating
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的现在分词 )；告诫 | |
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misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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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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fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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tumours
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| 肿瘤( tumour的名词复数 ) | |
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epidermis
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| n.表皮 | |
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winked
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| 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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derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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42
desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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tussle
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| n.&v.扭打，搏斗，争辩 | |
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46
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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49
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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50
altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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51
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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52
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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53
repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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54
acerbity
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| n.涩，酸，刻薄 | |
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55
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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56
abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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57
hostilities
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| n.战争；敌意(hostility的复数)；敌对状态；战事 | |
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rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inveterate
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| adj.积习已深的，根深蒂固的 | |
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60
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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61
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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62
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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63
accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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64
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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65
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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66
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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