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以下世界名酒英文介绍
pter 1 Shewing How Wrath Began
When Louis Trevelyan
AFTER a defiance so bitter and deadly, Alfred naturally drew away from his inamorata. But she, boiling with love and hate, said bitterly, “We need not take Mr. Rooke into our secrets. Come, sir, your arm!”
He stuck it out ungraciously, and averted his head; she took it, suppressed with difficulty a petty desire to pinch, and so walked by his side. He was as much at his ease as if promenading jungles with a panther. She felt him quiver with repugnance under her soft hand; and prolonged the irritating contact. She walked very slowly, and told him with much meaning she was waiting for a signal. “Till then,” said she, “we will keep one another company;” biting the word with her teeth as it went out.
By-and-by a window was opened in the asylum, and a table-cloth hung out. Mrs. Archbold pointed it out to Alfred; he stared at it; and after that she walked him rapidly home in silence. But, as soon as the door was double-locked on him, she whispered triumphantly in his ear —
“Your mother-inlaw was expected today; that signal was to let me know she was gone.”
“My mother-inlaw!” cried the young man, and tried in vain to conceal his surprise and agitation.
“Ay; your mother-inlaw, that shall never be. Mrs. Dodd.”
“Mrs. Dodd here!” said Alfred,
wavering and struggling as it hung suspended above the heads of the multitude, and could even observe men striking at it with their Lochaber-axes and partisans. The sight was of a nature to double his horror, and to add wings to his flight.
The street down which the fugitive
blooded as you are, certainly.”
“Humility and penitence would become you better t
the cliffs, and had ever an eye on the beach when the road came near enough.
About eight miles west of Folkestone he saw a dog-cart going down a hill before him: but there was only a single person in it. However, he increased his pace and got close behind it as it mounted the succeeding hill which was a high one. Walking leisurely behind it his quick eye caught sight of a lady’s veil wrapped round the iron of the seat.
That made him instantly suspect this might be the dog-cart after all. But, if so, how came a stranger in it? He despised a single foe, and resolved to pump this one and learn where the others were.
While he was thinking how he should begin, the dog-cart stopped at the top of the hill, and the driver looked seaward at some object that appeared to interest him.
It was a glorious scene. Viewed from so great a height the sea expanded like ocean, and its light-blue waters sparkled and laughed innumerable in the breeze. “A beautiful sight, sir,” said the escaped prisoner, “you may well stop to look at it.” The man touched his hat and chuckled. “I don’t think you know what I am looking at, sir,” he said politely.
“I thought it was the lovely sea view; so bright, so broad, so free.
“No, sir; not but what I can enjoy that a bit, too: but what I’m looking at is an ‘unt. Do you see that little boat? Sailing right down the coast about eight miles off. Well, sir, what do you think there is in that boat? But you’ll never guess. A madman.”
“Ah!”
“Curious, sir, isn’t it: a respectable gentleman too he is, and sails well; only stark staring mad. There was two of ’em in company: but it seems they can’t keep together long. Our one steals a fisherman’s boat, and there he goes down channel. And now look here, sir; see this steam-tug smoking along right in front of us: she’s after him, and see there’s my governor aboard standing by the wheel with a Bobby and a lady: and if ever there was a lady she’s one;” here he lowered his voice. “She’s that mad gentleman’s wife, sir, as I am a living sinner.”
They both looked down on the strange chase in silence. “Will they catch her?” asked Alfred at last, under his breath.
“How can we be off it? steam against sails. And if he runs ashore, I shall be there to nab him.” Alfred looked, and looked: the water came into his eyes. “It’s the best thing that can befall him now,” he murmured. He gave the man half-a-crown, and then turned his horse’s head and walked him down the hill towards Folkestone. On hi
Opening then the wicket of the main gate, the keepers suffered Butler to depart, who hastened to carry his horror and fear beyond the walls of Edinburgh. His first purpose was instantly to take the road homeward; but other fears and cares, connected with the news he had learned in that remarkable day, induced him to linger in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh until daybreak. More than one group of persons passed him as he was whiling away the hours of darkness that yet remained, whom, from the stifled tones of their discourse, the unwonted hour when they travelled, and the hasty pace at which they walked, he conjectured to have been engaged in the late fatal transaction.
Certain it was, that the sudden and total dispersion of the rioters, when their vindictive purpose was accomplished, seemed not the least remarkable feature of this singular affair. In general, whatever may be the impelling motive by which a mob is at first raised, the attainment of their object has usually been only found to lead the way to farther excesses. But not so in the present case. They seemed completely satiated with the vengeance they had prosecuted with such stanch and sagacious activity. When they were fully satisfied that life had abandoned their victim, they dispersed in every direction, throwing down the weapons which they had only assumed to enable them to carry through their purpose. At daybreak there remained not the least token of the events of the night, excepting the corpse of Porteous, which still hung suspended in the place where he had suffered, and the arms of various kinds which the rioters had taken from the city guard-house, which were found scattered about the streets as they had thrown them from their hands when the purpose for which they had seized them was accomplished.
The ordinary magistrates of the city resumed their power, not without trembling at the late experience of the fragility of its tenure. To march troops into the city, and commence a severe inquiry into the transactions of the preceding night, were the first marks of returning energy which they displayed. But these events had bee
Mrs. Archbold eyed him in silent scorn.
“Poor man,” said he at last; and hung his
her causes Dr. Sampson has not been told of — yet”
“Possibly. I really don’t know what you allude to.”
The son fixed his eyes on the father, and leaned across the table to him, till their faces nearly met.
“The fourteen thousand pounds, sir.”
Chapter 24
g time, even to go down the stairs one by one.
David was the first to recover his composure: indeed, great tranquillity of spirit had ever since his cure been a remarkable characteristic of this man’s nature. His passing mania seemed to have burnt out all his impetuosity, leaving him singularly sober, calm, and self-governed.
Mr. Compton took the money, and the will, and promised the Executrix, Skinner should be decently interred and all his debts paid out of the estate. He would look in at 66 by-and-by.
And now a happy party wended their way towards Pembroke Street.
But Alfred was beforehand with them: he went boldly up the stairs, and actually surprised Mrs. Dodd and Sampson together.
At sight of him she rose, made him a low curtsey, and beat a retreat. He whipped to the door, and set his back against it. “No,” said he saucily.
She drew up majestically, and the colour mounted in her pale face. “What, sir, would you detain me by force?”
“And no mistake,” said the audacious boy. “How else can I detain you when you hate me so?” She began to peep into his sparkling eyes to see the reason of this strange conduct
“C’way from the door, ye vagabin,” said Sampson.
“No, no, my friend,” said Mrs. Dodd, trembling, and still peering into his sparkling eyes. “Mr. Alfred Hardie is a gentleman, at all events: he would not take such a liberty with me, unless he had some excuse for it.”
“You are wonderfully shrewd, mamma,” said Alfred admiringly. “The excuse is, I don’t hate you as you hate me; and I am very happy.”
“Why do you call me mamma today? Oh, doctor, he calls me mamma.”
“Th’ audacious vagabin.”
“No, no, I cannot think he would ca
for the mad gentlemen were fawning on old woman; of whom anon. There were also three ladies and one gentleman, who had been deranged, but had recovered years ago. This little incident, Recovery, is followed in a public asylum by instant discharge; but, in a private one, Money, not Sanity, is apt to settle the question of egress. The gentleman’s case was scarce credible in the nineteenth century: years ago, being undeniably cracked, he had done what Dr. Wycherley told Alfred was a sure sign of sanity: i.e., he had declared himself insane; and had even been so reasonable as to sign his own order and certificates, and so imprison himself illegally, but with perfect ease; no remonstrance against that illegality from the guardians of the law! When he got what plain men call sane, he naturally wanted to be free, and happening to remember he alone had signed the order of imprisonment, and the imaginary doctor’s certificates, he claimed his discharge from illegal confinement. Answer: “First obtain a legal order for your discharge.” On this he signed an order for his discharge. “That is not a legal order.”—“It is as legal as the order on which I am here.” “Granted; but, legally or not, the asylum has got you; the open air has not got you. Possession is ninety-nine points of Lunacy law. Die your own illegal prisoner, and let your kinsfolk eat your land, and drink your consols, and bury you in a pauper’s shroud” All that Alfred could do for these victims was to promise to try and get them out some day, D.V. But there was a weak-minded youth, Francis Beverley, who had the honour to be under the protection of the Lord Chancellor. Now a lunatic or a Softy, protected by that functionary, is literally a lamb protected by a wolf, and that wolf ex officio the cruellest, cunningest old mangler and fleecer of innocents in Christendom. Chancery lunatics are the richest class, yet numbers of them are flung among pauper and even criminal lunatics, at a few pounds a year, while their committees bag four-fifths of the money that has been assigned to keep the patient in comfort.
Unfortunately the protection of the Chancellor extends to Life dissuaded him from receiving Captain Dodd. He stared at her. “What, turn away a couple of thousand pounds?”
“But they will come to visit him; and perhaps see him.”
“Oh, that can be managed. You must be on your guard: and I’ll warn Rooke. I can’t turn away money on a chance.”
his reason? What was this mysterious drama prepared for him the very moment he set his foot in the place, perhaps before? A poisoner, and a friend! Both strangers. He went down to dinner: and contrived to examine every lady and gentleman at the table. But they were all strangers. Presently a servant filled his glass with beer; he looked and saw it was poured from a small jug holding only his portion. Alfred took his ring off his finger, and holding the glass up dropped his ring in.
“What is that for?” inquired one or two.
“Oh, my ring has a peculiar virtue, it tells me what is good for me. Ah! what do I see? My ruby changes colour. Fetch me a clean glass.” And he filled it with water from a caraffe. “No, sir, leave the beer. I’ll analyse it in my room after dinner. I’m a chemist.”
Dr. Wolf changed colour, and was ill at ease. Here was a bold and ugly customer. However, he said nothing, and felt sure his morphia could not be detected in beer by any decomposer but the sto
e doctor sent him off to meet them, and recommended caution; her nerves were in such a state a violent shock, even of happiness, might kill her.
Thus warned, Julia came into the room alone, and while Dr. Sampson was inculcating self-restraint for her own sake, she listened with a superior smile, and took quite a different line. “Mamma,” said she, “he is in the town; but I dare not bring him here till you are composed: his reason is restored; but his nerves are not so strong as they were. Now, if you agitate yourself, you will agitate him, and will do him a serious mischief.”
This crafty speech produced an incredible effect on Mrs. Dodd. It calmed her directly: or rather her great love gave her strength to be calm. “I will not be such a wretch,” she said. “See: I am composed, quite composed. Bring me my darling, and you shall see how good I will be: there now, Julia, see how calm I am, quite calm. What, have I borne so much misery, with Heaven’s help, and do you think I cannot bear this great happiness for my dear darling’s sake?”
On this they proposed she should retire to her room, and they would go for David.
“Think over the meeting, dear, dear mamma,” said Julia, “and then you will behave well for
t. He wandered out into the silent night, and soon was leaning on the gate of Albion Villa, gazing wistfully at the windows, and sore perplexed and nobly wretched.
As he was going out, Mr. Hardie raised his eyebrows with a look of disinterested wonder and curiosity; and touched his forehead to Jane, as much as to say, “Is he disordered in his mind?”
As soon as they were alone, he asked her coolly what Alfred meant. She said she had no idea. Then h
edites the cure. Now off we go to th’ other.”
“The body’s memory!” said Mr. Osmond to himself: “what on earth d
of a voice at such a time. And indeed both the lovers’ faces were a pretty sight and a study. How they stole loving glances, but tried to keep within bounds, and not steal more than three per minute! and how unconscious they endeavoured to look the intervening seconds! and what windows were the demure complacent visages they thought they were making shutters of! Innocent love has at least this advantage over melodramatic, that it can extract exquisite sweetness out of so small a thing. These sweethearts were not alone, could not open their hearts, must not even gaze too long; yet to be in the same room even on su
the “open sesame,” had been spoken, and one unguarded look had confirmed Alfred’s vague suspicions of foul play. He turned his own face away: he was alienated by the occurrences of the last few months, but Nature and tender reminiscences still held him by some fibres of the heart — in a moment of natural indignation he had applied the touchstone, but its success grieved him. He could not bear to go on exposing his father; so he left the room with a deep sigh, in which pity mingled with shame and regret. He wandered out into the silent night, and soon was leaning on the gate of Albion Villa, gazing wistfully at the windows, and sore perplexed and nobly wretched.
As he was going out, Mr. Hardie raised his eyebrows with a look of disinterested wonder and curiosity; and touched his forehead to Jane, as much as to say, “Is he disordered in his mind?”
As soon as they were alone, he asked her coolly what Alfred meant. She said she had no idea. Then h
edites the cure. Now off we go to th’ other.”
“The body’s memory!” said Mr. Osmond to himself: “what on earth d
of a voice at such a time. And indeed both the lovers’ faces were a pretty sight and a study. How they stole loving glances, but tried to keep within bounds, and not steal more than three per minute! and how unconscious they endeavoured to look the intervening seconds! and what windows were the demure complacent visages they thought they were making shutters of! Innocent love has at least this advantage over melodramatic, that it can extract exquisite sweetness out of so small a thing. These sweethearts were not alone, could not open their hearts, must not even gaze too long; yet to be in the same room even on such terms was a taste of Heaven.
“But, dear heart!” said Mrs. Maxley, “ye don’t tell me wo test it. On the morning of that eventful day which concluded my last chapter, he received a letter from Canada. His wife was out with eggs; so he caught little Rose Sutton, that had more than once spelled an epistle for him; and she read it out in a loud and reckless whine: “‘At — noon — this — very — daie — Muster — Hardie’s a-g-e-n-t, aguent — d-i-s dis, h-o-n — honoured — dishonoured— a — bill; and sayed.’” Here she made a full stop. Then on to the next verse.
“‘There — were no — more — asses.’”
“Mercy on us! but it can’t be asses, wench: drive your spe-ad into’t again.”
“‘A-s-s-e-t-s. Assets.’”
tle bed: ay, died of grief with no grain of egotism in it; gone straight to heaven without one angry word against Richard Hardie or any other.
Old Betty had a horror of the workhouse. To save her old age from it she had deposited her wages in the bank for the last twenty years, and also a little legacy from Mr. Hardie’s father. She now went about the house of her master and debtor, declaring she was sure he would not rob her, and, if he did, she would never go into the poorhouse. “I’ll go out on the common and die there. Nobody will miss me.”
“A polite lady, madam: she said sir to me, and thanked me.”
“That sounds like Mrs. Dodd,” said the Archbold quietly.
“Ah, but,” continued Frank, “there was another with her a beautiful young lady; oh, so beautiful!”
“Miss Julia Dodd,” said the Archbold grimly.
Alfred panted, and his eyes roved wildly in search of a way to escape and follow her; she could not be far off.
“Anybody else, Frank?” inquired Mrs. Archbold.
“No more ladies, madam; but there was a young gentleman all in black. I think he was a clergyman — or a butler.”
“Ah, that was her husband that is to be; that was Mr. Hurd. She can go nowhere without him, not even to see her old beau.”
At these words, every one of them an adder, Alfred turned on her furiously, and his long arm shot out of its own accord, and the fingers opened like an eagle’s claw. She saw, and understood, but never blenched. Her vindictive eye met his dilating flashing orbs unflinchingly.
“You pass for a woman,” he said, “and I am too wretched for anger.” He turned from her with a deep convulsive sob, and, almost staggering, leaned his brow against the wall of the house.
She had done what no man had as yet succeeded in; she had broken his spirit. And here a man would have left him alone. But the rejected beauty put her lips to his ear, and whispered into them, “This is only the beginning.” Then she left him and went to his room and stole all his paper, and pens, and ink, and his very Aristotle. He was to have no occupation now, except to brood, and brood, and brood.
As for Alfred, he sat down upon a bench in the yard a broken man: up to this moment he had hoped his Julia was as constant as himself. But no; either she had heard he was mad, and with the universal credulity had believed it, or perhaps, not hearing from him at all believed herself forsaken; and was consoling herself with a clergyman. Jealousy did not as yet infuriate Alfred. Its first effect resembled that of a heavy blow. Little Beverley found him actually sick, and ran to the Robin. The exprizefighter brought him a thimbleful of brandy, but he would not take it. “Ah no, my friends,” he said, “that cannot cure me; it is not my stomach; it is my heart. Broken, broken!”
The Robin retired muttering. Little Beverley kneeled down beside him, and kissed his hand with a devotion that savoured of the canine. Yet it was tender, and the sinking heart clung to it. “Oh, Frank!” he cried, “my Julia believes me mad, or thinks me false, or something, and she will marry another before I can get out to tell her all I have endured was for loving her. What shall I do? God protect my reason! What will become of me?”
He moaned, and young Frank sorrowed over him, till the harsh voice of Rooke summoned him to some menial duty. This discharged, he came running back; and sat on the bench beside his crushed benefactor without saying a word. At last he delivered this sapient speech: “I see. You want to get out of this place.”
Alfred only sighed hopelessly.
“Then I must try and get you out,” said Frank. Alfred shook his head.
“Just let me think,” said Frank solemnly; and he sat silent looking like a young owl: for thinking soon puzzled him, and elicited his intellectual weakness, whereas in a groove of duties he could go as smoothly as half the world, and but for his official, officious Protector, might just as well have been Boots at the Swan, as Boots and Chambermaid at the Wolf.
So now force and cunning had declared war on Alfred, and feebleness in person enlisted in his defence. His adversary lost no time; that afternoon Rooke told him he was henceforth to occupy a double bedded room with another patient.
“If he should be violent in the middle of the night, sing out, and we will come — if we hear you,” said the keeper with a malicious smile.
The patient turned out to be the able seaman. Here Mrs. Archbold aimed a double stroke; to shake Alfred’s nerves, and show him how very mad his proposed father-inlaw was. She thought that, if he could once be forced to realise this, it might reconcile him to not marrying the daughter.
The first night David did get up and paraded an imaginary deck for four mortal hours. Alfred’s sleep was broken; but he said nothing, and David turned in again, his watch completed.
Not a day passed now but a blow was struck. Nor was the victim passive; debarred writing materials, he cut the rims off several copies of the Times, and secreted them: then catching sight of some ink-blots on the back of Frank’s clothes-brush, scraped them carefully off, melted them in a very little water, and with a toothpick scrawled his wrongs to the Commissioners; he rolled the slips round a half-crown, and wrote outside, “Good Christian, keep this half-crown, and take the writing to the Lunacy Commissioners at Whitehall, for pity’s sake.” This done, he watched, and when nobody was looking, flung his letter, so weighted, over the gates; he heard it fall on the public road.
Another day he secreted a spoonful of black currant preserve, diluted it with a little water, and wrote a letter, and threw it into the road as before: another day, hearing the Robin express disgust at the usage to which he was now subjected, he drew him apart, and offered him a hundred pounds to get him out. Now the exprizefighter was rather a tender-hearted fellow, and a great detester of foul play. What he saw made him now side heartily with Alfred; and all he wanted was to be indemnified for his risk.
He looked down and said, “You see, sir, I have a wife and child to think of.”
Alfred offered him two hundred pounds.
“That is more than enough, sir,” said the Robin; “but you see I can’t do it alone. I must have a pal in it. Could you afford as much to Garrett? He is the likeliest; I’ve heard him say as much as that he was sick of the business.”
Alfred jumped at the proposal: he would give them two hundred apiece.
“I’ll sound him,” said the Robin; “don’t you speak to him, whatever. He might blow the gaff. I must begin by making him drunk, then he’ll tell me his real mind.”
One fine morning the house was made much cleaner than usual; the rotatory chair, in which they used to spin
was
when she was alone, and when s
If the infliction of pain and misery is, as I believe, the worst form of crime, this retention of
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