The coach rumbled1 along toward Dublin at a leisurely2 jog. Notwithstanding the firm front Mr. Lowe had presented, Dangerfield’s harangue4 had affected5 him unpleasantly. Cluffe’s little bit of information respecting the instrument he had seen the prisoner lay up in his drawer on the night of the murder, and which corresponded in description with the wounds traced upon Sturk’s skull7, seemed to have failed. The handle of Dangerfield’s harmless horsewhip, his mind misgave8 him, was all that would come of that piece of evidence; and it was impossible to say there might not be something in all that Dangerfield had uttered. Is it a magnetic force, or a high histrionic vein9 in some men, that makes them so persuasive10 and overpowering, and their passion so formidable? But, with Dangerfield’s presence, the effect of his plausibilities and his defiance11 passed away. The pointed12 and consistent evidence of Sturk, perfectly13 clear as he was upon every topic he mentioned, and the corroborative14 testimony15 of Irons, equally distinct and damning — the whole case blurred16 and disjointed, and for a moment grown unpleasantly hazy17 and uncertain in the presence of that white sorcerer, readjusted itself now that he was gone, and came out in iron and compact relief — impregnable.
‘Run boys, one of you, and open the gate of the Mills,’ said Lowe, whose benevolence18, such as it was, expanded in his intense feeling of relief. ‘’Twill be good news for poor Mistress Nutter19. She’ll see her husband in the morning.’
So he rode up to the Mills, and knocked his alarm, as we have seen and heard, and there told his tidings to poor Sally Nutter, vastly to the relief of Mistress Matchwell, the Blind Fiddler, and even of the sage20, Dirt Davy; for there are persons upon the earth to whom a sudden summons of any sort always sounds like a call to judgment21, and who, in any such ambiguous case, fill up the moments of suspense22 with wild conjecture23, and a ghastly summing-up against themselves; can it be this — or that — or the other old, buried, distant villainy, that comes back to take me by the throat?
Having told his good news in a few dry words to Mrs. Sally, Mr. Lowe superadded a caution to the dark lady down stairs, in the face of which she, being quite reassured24 by this time, grinned and snapped her fingers, and in terms defied, and even cursed the tall magistrate25 without rising from the chair in which she had re-established herself in the parlour. He mounted his hunter again, and followed the coach at a pace which promised soon to bring him up with that lumbering26 conveyance27; for Mr. Lowe was one of those public officers who love their work, and the tenant28 of the Brass29 Castle was no common prisoner, and well worth seeing, though at some inconvenience, safely into his new lodging30.
Next morning, you may be sure, the news was all over the town of Chapelizod. All sorts of cross rumours31 and wild canards32, of course, were on the wind, and every new fact or fib borne to the door-step with the fresh eggs, or the morning’s milk and butter, was carried by the eager servant into the parlour, and swallowed down with their toast and tea by the staring company.
Upon one point all were agreed: Mr. Paul Dangerfield lay in the county gaol33, on a charge of having assaulted Dr. Sturk with intent to kill him. The women blessed themselves, and turned pale. The men looked queer when they met one another. It was altogether so astounding34 — Mr. Dangerfield was so rich — so eminent35 — so moral — so charitable — so above temptation. It had come out that he had committed, some said three, others as many as fifteen secret murders. All the time that the neighbours had looked on his white head in church as the very standard of probity36, and all the prudential virtues37 rewarded, they were admiring and honouring a masked assassin. They had been bringing into their homes and families an undivulged and terrible monster. The wher-wolf had walked the homely38 streets of their village. The ghoul, unrecognised, had prowled among the graves of their church-yard. One of their fairest princesses, the lady of Belmont, had been on the point of being sacrificed to a vampire39. Horror, curiosity, and amazement40, were everywhere.
Charles Nutter, it was rumoured41, was to be discharged on bail42 early, and it was mooted43 in the club that a deputation of the neighbours should ride out to meet him at the boundaries of Chapelizod, welcome him there with an address, and accompany him to the Mills as a guard of honour; but cooler heads remembered the threatening and unsettled state of things at that domicile, and thought that Nutter would, all things considered, like a quiet return best; which view of the affair was, ultimately, acquiesced44 in.
For Mary Matchwell, at the Mills, the tidings which had thrown the town into commotion45 had but a solitary46 and a selfish interest. She was glad that Nutter was exculpated47. She had no desire that the king should take his worldly goods to which she intended helping48 herself: otherwise he might hang or drown for ought she cared. Dirty Davy, too, who had quaked about his costs, was greatly relieved by the turn which things had taken; and the plain truth was that, notwithstanding his escape from the halter, things looked very black and awful for Charles Nutter and his poor little wife, Sally.
Doctor Toole, at half-past nine, was entertaining two or three of the neighbours, chiefly in oracular whispers, by the fire in the great parlour of the Phoenix49, when he was interrupted by Larry, the waiter, with —
‘Your horse is at the door, docther’ (Toole was going into town, but was first to keep an appointment at Doctor Sturk’s with Mr. Lowe), ‘and,’ continued Larry, ‘there’s a fat gentleman in the blue room wants to see you, if you plase.’
‘Hey?— ho! let’s see then,’ said little Toole, bustling50 forth51 with an important air. ‘The blue room, hey?’
When he opened the door of that small apartment there stood a stout52, corpulent, rather seedy and dusty personage, at the window, looking out and whistling with his hat on. He turned lazily about as Toole entered, and displayed the fat and forbidding face of Dirty Davy.
‘Oh! I thought it might be professionally, Sir,’ said Toole, a little grandly; for he had seen the gentleman before, and had, by this time, found out all about him, and perceived he had no chance of a fee.
‘It is professionally, Sir,’ quoth Dirty Davy, ‘if you’ll be so obleeging as to give me five minutes.’
With that amiable53 egotism which pervades54 human nature, it will be observed, each gentleman interpreted ‘professionally’ as referring to his own particular calling.
So Toole declared himself ready and prepared to do his office, and Dirty Davy commenced.
‘You know me, I believe, Sir?’
‘Mr. David O’Reegan, as I believe,’ answered Toole.
‘The same, Sir,’ replied Davy. ‘I’m on my way, Sir, to the Mills, where my client, Mrs. Nutter (here Toole uttered a disdainful grunt), resides; and I called at your house, doctor, and they sent me here; and I am desirous to prove to you, Sir, as a friend of Miss Sarah Harty, styling herself Mrs. Nutter, that my client’s rights are clear and irresistible55, in order that you may use any interest you may have with that ill-advised faymale — and I’m told she respects your advice and opinion highly — to induce her to submit without further annoyance56; and I tell you, in confidence, she has run herself already into a very sarious predicament.’
‘Well, Sir, I’ll be happy to hear you,’ answered Toole.
‘’Tis no more, Sir, than I expected from your well-known candour,’ replied Dirty Davy, with the unctuous57 politeness with which he treated such gentlemen as he expected to make use of. ‘Now, Sir, I’ll open our case without any reserve or exaggeration to you, Sir, and that, Doctor Toole, is what I wouldn’t do to many beside yourself. The facts is in a nutshell. We claim our conjugal58 rights. Why, Sir? Because, Sir, we married the oppugnant, Charles Nutter, gentleman, of the Mills, and so forth, on the 7th of April, Anno Domini, 1750, in the Church of St. Clement59 Danes, in London, of which marriage this, Sir, is a verbatim copy of the certificate. Now, Sir, your client — I mane your friend — Misthress Mary Harty, who at present affects the state and usurps60 the rights of marriage against my client — the rightful Mrs. Nutter, performed and celebrated61 a certain pretended marriage with the same Charles Nutter, in Chapelizod Church, on the 4th of June, 1758, seven years and ten months, wanting three days, subsequent to the marriage of my client. Well, Sir, I see exactly, Sir, what you’d ask: “Is the certificate genuine?”’
‘Well, Sir, upon that point I have to show you this,’ and he handed him a copy of Mr. Luke Gamble’s notice served only two days before, to the effect that, having satisfied himself by enquiring64 on the spot of the authenticity65 of the certificate of the marriage of Charles Nutter of the Mills, and so forth, to Mary Duncan, his client did not mean to dispute it. ‘And, Sir, further, as we were preparing evidence in support of my client’s and her maid’s affidavit66, to prove her identity with the Mary Duncan in question, having served your client — I mane, Sir, asking your pardon again — your friend, with a notice that such corroboratory67 evidence being unnecessary, we would move the court, in case it were pressed for, to give us the costs of procuring68 it, Mr. Luke Gamble fortwith struck, on behalf of his client, and admitted the sufficiency of the evidence. Now, Sir, I mention these things, not as expecting you to believe them upon my statement, you see, but simply to enquire69 of Mr. Gamble whether they be true or no; and if true, Sir, upon his admission, then, Sir, I submit we’re entitled to your good offices, and the judicious70 inthurfarence of the Rev71. Mr. Roach, your respectable priest, Sir.’
‘My friend, Sir, not my priest. I’m a Churchman, Sir, as everybody knows.’
‘Of course, Sir — I ask your pardon again, Doctor Toole — Sir, your friend to induce your client —-friend I mane again, Sir — Mistress Sarah Harty, formerly72 housekeeper73 of Mr. Charless (so he pronounced it) Nutther, gentleman, of the Mills, and so forth, to surrendher quiet and peaceable possession of the premises74 and chattels75, and withdraw from her tortuous76 occupation dacently, and without provoking the consequences, which must otherwise follow in the sevarest o’ forms;’ or, as he pronounced it, ‘fawrums.’
‘The sevarest o’ grandmothers. Humbug77 and flummery! Sir,’ cried Toole, most unexpectedly incensed78, and quite scarlet79.
‘D’ye mane I’m a liar80, Sir? Is that what you mane?’ demanded Dirty Davy, suddenly, like the doctor, getting rid of his ceremonious politeness.
‘I mane what I mane, and that’s what I mane,’ thundered Toole, diplomatically.
‘Then, tell your friend to prepare for consequences,’ retorted Dirty Davy, with a grin.
‘And make my compliments to your client, or conjuror81, or wife, or whatever she is, and tell her that whenever she wants her dirty work done, there’s plenty of other Dublin blackguards to be got to do it, without coming to Docther Thomas Toole, or the Rev. Father Roach.’
Which sarcasm82 he delivered with killing83 significance, but Dirty Davy had survived worse thrusts than that.
‘She’s a conjuror, is she? I thank you, Sir.’
‘You’re easily obliged, Sir,’ says Toole.
‘We all know what that manes. And these documents sworn to by my client and myself, is a pack o’ lies! Betther and betther! I thank ye again, Sir.’
‘You’re welcome, my honey,’ rejoined Toole, affectionately.
‘An’ you live round the corner. I know your hall-door, Sir — a light brown, wid a brass knocker.’
‘Which is a fine likeness84 iv your own handsome face, Sir,’ retorted Toole.
‘An’ them two documents, Sir, is a fabrication and a forgery85, backed up wid false affidavits86?’ continued Mr. O’Reegan.
‘Mind that, Larry,’ says the doctor, with a sudden inspiration addressing the waiter, who had peeped in; ‘he admits that them two documents you see there, is forgeries87, backed up with false affidavits; you heard him say so, and I’ll call you to prove it.’
‘You lie!’ said Dirty Davy, precipitately88, for he was quite disconcerted at finding his own sophistical weapons so unexpectedly turned against him.
‘You scum o’ the airth!’ cried Toole, hitting him, with his clenched89 fist, right upon the nose, so vigorous a thump90, that his erudite head with a sonorous91 crash hopped92 off the wainscot behind it; ‘you lying scullion!’ roared the doctor, instantaneously repeating the blow, and down went Davy, and down went the table with dreadful din3, and the incensed doctor bestrode his prostrate93 foe94 with clenched fists and flaming face, and his grand wig95 all awry96, and he panting and scowling97.
‘Murdher, murdher, murdher!’ screamed Dirty Davy, who was not much of a Spartan98, and relished99 nothing of an assault and battery but the costs and damages.
‘You — you — you’
‘Murdher — help — help — murdher — murdher!’
‘Say it again, you cowardly, sneaking100, spying viper101; say it again, can’t you?’
It was a fine tableau102, and a noble study of countenance103 and attitude.
‘Sich a bloody104 nose I never seen before,’ grinned Larry rubbing his hands over the exquisite105 remembrance. ‘If you only seed him, flat on his back, the great ould shnake, wid his knees and his hands up bawling106 murdher; an’ his big white face and his bloody nose in the middle, like nothin’ in nature, bedad, but the ace6 iv hearts in a dirty pack.’
How they were separated, and who the particular persons that interposed, what restoratives were resorted to, how the feature looked half an hour afterwards, and what was the subsequent demeanour of Doctor Toole, upon the field of battle, I am not instructed; my letters stop short at the catastrophe107, and run off to other matters.
Doctor Toole’s agitations108 upon such encounters did not last long. They blew off in a few thundering claps of bravado109 and defiance in the second parlour of the Phoenix, where he washed his hands and readjusted his wig and ruffles110, and strutted111 forth, squaring his elbows, and nodding and winking112 at the sympathising waiters in the inn hall; and with a half grin at Larry —
‘Well, Larry, I think I showed him Chapelizod, hey?’ said the doctor, buoyantly, to that functionary113, and marched diagonally across the broad street toward Sturk’s house, with a gait and a countenance that might have overawed an army.
收听单词发音 |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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misgave
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| v.使（某人的情绪、精神等）疑虑，担忧，害怕( misgive的过去式 ) | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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corroborative
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| adj.确证（性）的，确凿的 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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nutter
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| n.疯子 | |
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sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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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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rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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canards
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| n.谣传，谎言( canard的名词复数 ) | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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probity
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| n.刚直；廉洁，正直 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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vampire
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| n.吸血鬼 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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rumoured
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| adj.谣传的；传说的；风 | |
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bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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mooted
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| adj.未决定的，有争议的，有疑问的v.提出…供讨论( moot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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exculpated
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| v.开脱，使无罪( exculpate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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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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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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pervades
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的第三人称单数 ) | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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conjugal
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| adj.婚姻的，婚姻性的 | |
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clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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usurps
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的第三人称单数 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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61
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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enquiring
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| a.爱打听的，显得好奇的 | |
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authenticity
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| n.真实性 | |
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affidavit
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| n.宣誓书 | |
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corroboratory
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| adj.确定的，证实的 | |
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procuring
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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enquire
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| v.打听，询问；调查，查问 | |
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judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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75
chattels
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| n.动产，奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
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tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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conjuror
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| n.魔术师，变戏法者 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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83
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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85
forgery
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| n.伪造的文件等，赝品，伪造（行为） | |
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86
affidavits
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| n.宣誓书，（经陈述者宣誓在法律上可采作证据的）书面陈述( affidavit的名词复数 ) | |
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87
forgeries
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| 伪造( forgery的名词复数 )； 伪造的文件、签名等 | |
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precipitately
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| adv.猛进地 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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spartan
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| adj.简朴的，刻苦的；n.斯巴达；斯巴达式的人 | |
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relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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100
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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101
viper
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| n.毒蛇；危险的人 | |
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102
tableau
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| n.画面，活人画（舞台上活人扮的静态画面） | |
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103
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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104
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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105
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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106
bawling
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| 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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107
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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108
agitations
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| （液体等的）摇动( agitation的名词复数 )； 鼓动； 激烈争论； （情绪等的）纷乱 | |
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bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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111
strutted
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| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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113
functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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