The "Old Saint Columbkil" was a sort of low sporting tavern2 frequented chiefly by horse-jockeys, cock-fighters, and dog-fanciers; it had its cock-pits, and its badger3-baits, and an unpretending little "hell" of its own; and, in short, was deficient4 in none of the attractions most potent5 in alluring6 such company as it was intended to receive.
As Ashwoode, preceded by his agreeable companion, made his way into the low-roofed and irregular chamber7, his senses were assailed8 by the thick fumes9 of tobacco, the reek10 of spirits, and the heavy steams of the hot dainties which ministered to the refined palates of the patrons of the "Old Saint Columbkil;" and through the hazy11 atmosphere, seated at a table by himself, and lighted by a solitary12 tallow candle with a portentous13 snuff, and canopied14 in the clouds of tobacco smoke which he himself emitted, Gordon Chancey was dimly discernible.
"Ah! dear me, dear me. I'm right glad to see you—I declare to ——, I am, Mr. Ashwoode," said that eminent15 barrister, when the young gentleman had reached his side. "Indeed, I was thinking it was maybe too late to see you to-night, and that things would have to go on. Oh, dear me, but it's a regular Providence16, so it is. You'd have been up in lavender to-morrow, as sure as eggs is eggs. I'm gladder than a crown piece, upon my soul, I am."
"Don't talk of business here; cannot we have some place to ourselves for five minutes, out of this stifling17 pig-sty. I can't bear the place; besides, we shall be overheard," urged Ashwoode.
"Well, and that's very true," assented18 Chancey, gently, "very true, so it is; we'll get a small room above. You'll have to pay an extra sixpenny bit for it though, but what signifies the matter of that? M'Quirk, ask old Pottles if 'Noah's Ark' is empty—either that or the 'Royal Ram'—run, Bobby."
"Run, Bobby, run, man," repeated Chancey, tranquilly20.
"Run yourself," retorted M'Quirk, rebelliously21.
Chancey looked at him for a moment to ascertain22 by his visible aspect whether he had actually uttered the audacious suggestion, and reading in the red face of the little gentleman nothing but the most refractory23 dispositions24, he said with a low, dogged emphasis which experience had long taught Mr. M'Quirk to respect,—
"Are you at your tricks again? D—— you, you blackguard, if you stand prating25 there another minute, I'll open your head with this pot—be off, you scoundrel."
The learned counsel enforced his eloquence26 by knocking the pewter pot with an emphatic27 clang upon the table.
All the aristocratic blood of the M'Quirks mounted to the face of the gentleman thus addressed; he suffered the noble inundation28, however, to subside29, and after some hesitation30, and one long look of unutterable contempt, which Chancey bore with wonderful stoicism, he yielded to prudential considerations, as he had often done before, and proceeded to execute his orders.
The effect was instantaneous—Pottles himself appeared. A short, stout31, asthmatic man was Pottles, bearing in his thoughtful countenance32 an ennobling consciousness that human society would feel it hard to go on without him, and carrying in his hand a soiled napkin, or rather clout33, with which he wiped everything that came in his way, his own forehead and nose included.
With pompous34 step and wheezy respiration35 did Pottles conduct his honoured guests up the creaking stairs and into the "Royal Ram." He raked the embers in the fire-place, threw on a piece of turf, and planting the candle which he carried upon a table covered with slop and pipe ashes, he wiped the candlestick, and then his own mouth carefully with his dingy36 napkin, and asked the gentlemen whether they desired anything for supper.
"No, no, we want nothing but to be left to ourselves for ten or fifteen minutes," said Ashwoode, placing a piece of money upon the table. "Take this for the use of the room, and leave us."
The landlord bowed and pocketed the coin, wheezed37 and bowed again, and then waddled38 magnificently out of the room. Ashwoode got up and closed the door after him, and then returning, drew his chair opposite to Chancey's, and in a low tone asked,—
"Well, what is all this about?"
"All about them notes, nothing else," replied Chancey, calmly.
"Go on—what of them?" urged Ashwoode.
"Can you pay them all to-morrow morning?" inquired Chancey, tranquilly.
"To-morrow!" exclaimed Ashwoode. "Why, hell and death, man, you promised to hold them over for three months. To-morrow! By ——, you must be joking," and as he spoke39 his face turned pale as ashes.
"I told you all along, Mr. Ashwoode," said Chancey drowsily40, "that the money was not my own; I'm nothing more than an agent in the matter, and the notes are in the desk of that old bed-ridden cripple that lent it. D——n him, he's as full of fumes and fancies as old cheese is of maggots. He has taken it into his head that your paper is not safe, and the devil himself won't beat it out of him; and the long and the short of it is, Mr. Ashwoode, he's going to arrest you to-morrow."
"Good heavens! and is there no way of preventing this? Make him wait for a week—for a day," said Ashwoode.
"Was not I speaking to him ten times to-day—ay, twenty times," replied Chancey, "trying to make him wait even for one day? Why, I'm hoarse42 talking to him, and I might just as well be speaking to Patrick's tower; so make your mind up to this. As sure as light, you'll be in gaol43 before to-morrow's past, unless you either settle it early some way or other, or take leg bail44 for it."
"See, Chancey, I may as well tell you this," said Ashwoode, "before a fortnight, perhaps before a week, I shall have the means of satisfying these damned notes beyond the possibility of failure. Won't he hold them over for so long?"
"I might as well be asking him to cut out his tongue and give it to me as to allow us even a day; he has heard of different accidents that has happened to some of your paper lately—and the long and the short of it is—he won't hear of it, nor hold them over one hour more than he can help. I declare to ——, Mr. Ashwoode, I am very sorry for your distress45, so I am—but you say you'll have the money in a week?"
"Ay, ay, ay, so I shall, if he don't arrest me," replied Ashwoode; "but if he does, my perdition's sealed; I shall lie in gaol till I rot; but, curse it, can't the idiot see this?—if he waits a week or so he'll get his money—every penny back again—but if he won't have patience, he loses every sixpence to all eternity46."
"You might as well be arguing with an iron box as think to change that old chap by talk, when he once gets a thing into his head," rejoined Chancey. Ashwoode walked wildly up and down the dingy, squalid apartment, exhibiting in his aristocratic form and face, and in the rich and elegant suit, flashing even in the dim light of that solitary, unsnuffed candle, with gold lace and jewelled buttons, and with cravat47 and ruffles48 fluttering with rich point lace, a strange and startling contrast to the slovenly49 and deserted50 scene of low debauchery which surrounded him.
"Chancey," said he, suddenly stopping and grasping the shoulder of the sleepy barrister with a fierceness and energy which made him start—"Chancey, rouse yourself, d—— you. Do you hear? Is there no way of averting51 this awful ruin—is there none?"
As he spoke, Ashwoode held the shoulder of the fellow with a gripe like that of a vice52, and stooping over him, glared in his face with the aspect of a maniac53.
The lawyer, though by no means of a very excitable temperament54, was startled at the horrible expression which encountered his gaze, and sate55 silently looking into his victim's face with a kind of fascination56.
"Well," said Chancey, turning away his head with an effort—"there's but one way I can think of."
"What is it? Do you know anyone that will take my note at a short date? For God's sake, man, speak out at once, or my brain will turn. What is it?" said Ashwoode.
"Why, Mr. Ashwoode, to be plain with you," rejoined Chancey, "I do not know a soul in Dublin that would discount for you to one-fourth of the amount you require—but there is another way."
"In the fiend's name, out with it, then," said Ashwoode, shaking him fiercely by the shoulder.
"Well, then, get Mr. Craven to join you in a bond for the amount," said Chancey, "with a warrant of attorney to confess judgment57."
"Craven! Why, he knows as well as you do how I am dipped. He'd just as readily thrust his hand into the fire," replied Ashwoode. "Is that your hopeful scheme?"
"Why, Mr. Craven might not do so well, after all," said Chancey, meditatively58, and without appearing to hear what the young baronet said. "Oh! dear, dear, no, he would not do. Old Money-bags knows him—no, no, that would not do."
"Can your d——d scheming brain plot no invention to help me? In the devil's name, where are your wits? Chancey, if you get me out of this accursed fix, I'll make a man of you."
"I got a whole lot of bills done for you once by the very same old gentleman," continued Chancey, "and d——n heavy bills they were too, but they had Mr. Nicholas Blarden's name across them; would not he lend it again, if you told him how you stand? If you can come by the money in a month or so, you may be sure he'll do it."
"Better and better! Why, Blarden would ask no better fun than to see me ruined, dead, and damned," rejoined Ashwoode, bitterly. "Cudgel your brains for another bright thought."
"Oh! dear me, dear me," said the barrister mildly, "I thought you were the best of friends. Well, well, it's hard to know. But are you sure he don't like you?"
"It's odd if he does," said Ashwoode, "seeing it's scarce a month since I trounced him almost to death in the theatre. Blarden, indeed!"
"Well, Mr. Ashwoode, sit down here for a minute, and I'll say all I have to say; and if you like it, well and good; and if not, there's no harm done, and things must only take their course. Are you quite sure of having the means within a month of taking up the notes?"
"As sure as I am that I see you before me," replied he.
"Well, then, get Mr. Blarden's name along with your own to your joint59 and several bond—the old chap won't have anything more to do with bills—so, do you mind, your joint and several bond, with warrant of attorney to confess judgment—and I'll stake my life, he'll take it as ready as so much cash, the instant I show it to him," said the lawyer quietly.
"Are you dreaming or drunk? Have not I told you twenty times over that Blarden would cut his throat first?" retorted Ashwoode, passionately60.
"Why," said Chancey, fixing his cunning eyes, with a peculiar61 meaning, upon the young man, and speaking with a lowered voice and marked deliberateness, "perhaps if Mr. Blarden knew that his name was wanted only to satisfy the whim62 of a fanciful old hunks—if he knew that judgment should never be entered—if he knew that the bond should never go outside a strong iron box, under an old bedridden cripple's bed—if he knew that no questions should be asked as to how he came to write his name at the foot of it—and if he knew that no mortal should ever see it until you paid it long before the day it was due—and if he was quite aware that the whole transaction should be considered so strictly63 confidential64, that even to himself—do you mind—no allusion65 should be made to it;—don't you think, in such a case, you could, by some means or other, manage to get his—name?"
They continued to gaze fixedly66 at one another in silence, until, at length, Ashwoode's countenance lighted into a strange, unearthly smile.
"I see what you mean, Chancey—is it so?" said he, in a voice so low, as scarcely to be audible.
"Well, maybe you do," said the barrister, in a tone nearly as low, and returning the young man's smile with one to the full as sinister67. Thus they remained without speaking for many minutes.
"There's no danger in it," said Chancey, after a long pause; "I would not take a part in it if there was. You can pay it eleven months before it's due. It's a thing I have known done a hundred times over, without risk; here there can be none. I do all his business myself. I tell you, that for anything that any living mortal but you and me and the old badger himself will ever hear, or see, or know of the matter, the bond might as well be burnt to dust in the back of the fire. I declare to —— it's the plain truth I'm telling you—Sir Henry—so it is."
There followed another silence of some minutes. At length Ashwoode said, "I'd rather use any name but Blarden's, if it must be done."
"What does it matter whose name is on it, if there is no one but ourselves to read it?" replied Chancey. "I say Blarden's is the best, because he accepted bills for you before, which were discounted by the same old codger; and again, because the old fellow knows that the money was wanted to satisfy gambling68 debts, and Blarden would seem a very natural party in a gaming transaction. Blarden's is the name for us. And, for myself, all I ask is fifty pounds for my share in the trouble."
"When must you have the bond?" asked Ashwoode.
"Set about it now," said Chancey; "or stay, your hand shakes too much, and for both our sakes it must be done neatly69; so say to-morrow morning, early. I'll see the old gentleman to-night, and have the overdue70 notes to hand you in the morning. I think that's doing business."
"I would not do it—I'd rather blow my brains out—if there was a single chance of his entering judgment on the bond, or talking of it," said Ashwoode, in great agitation.
"A chance!" said the barrister. "I tell you there's not a possibility. I manage all his money matters, and I'd burn that bond, before it should see the outside of his strong box. Why, d——n! do you think I'd let myself be ruined for fifty pounds? You don't know Gordon Chancey, indeed you don't, Mr. Ashwoode."
"Well, Chancey, I'll see you early to-morrow morning," said Ashwoode; "but are you very—very sure—is there no chance—no possibility of—of mischief71?"
"I tell you, Mr. Ashwoode," replied Chancey, "unless I chose to betray myself, you can't come by harm. As I told you before, I'm not such a fool as to ruin myself. Rely on me, Mr. Ashwoode—rely on me. Do you believe what I say?"
Ashwoode walked slowly up to him, and fixing his eyes upon the barrister, with a glance which made Chancey's heart turn chill within him,—
"Yes, Mr. Chancey," he said, "you may be sure I believe you; for if I did not—so help me, God!—you should not quit this room—alive."
He eyed the caitiff for some minutes in silence, and then returning the sword, which he had partially72 drawn73, to its scabbard, he abruptly74 wished him good-night, and left the room.
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1
ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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2
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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badger
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| v.一再烦扰，一再要求，纠缠 | |
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deficient
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| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
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potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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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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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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canopied
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| adj. 遮有天篷的 | |
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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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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hauteur
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| n.傲慢 | |
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tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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rebelliously
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| adv.造反地，难以控制地 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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dispositions
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| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
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prating
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| v.（古时用语）唠叨，啰唆( prate的现在分词 ) | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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inundation
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| n.the act or fact of overflowing | |
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subside
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| vi.平静，平息；下沉，塌陷，沉降 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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clout
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| n.用手猛击；权力，影响力 | |
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pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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wheezed
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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waddled
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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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drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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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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bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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averting
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| 防止，避免( avert的现在分词 )； 转移 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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sate
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| v.使充分满足 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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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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meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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68
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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overdue
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| adj.过期的，到期未付的；早该有的，迟到的 | |
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71
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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72
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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73
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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74
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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