He met beforehand all the inquiries1 which the marked change in him must otherwise have provoked, by announcing that he was ill. Before he proceeded to business, he asked if anybody was waiting to see him. One of the servants from Muswell Hill was waiting with another parcel for Miss Lavinia, ordered by telegram from the country that morning. Turlington (after ascertaining2 the servant’s name) received the man in his private room. He there heard, for the first time, that Launcelot Linzie had been lurking3 in the grounds (exactly as he had supposed) on the day when the lawyer took his instructions for the Settlement and the Will.
In two hours more Turlington’s work was completed. On leaving the office — as soon as he was out of sight of the door — he turned eastward4, instead of taking the way that led to his own house in town. Pursuing his course, he entered the labyrinth5 of streets which led, in that quarter of East London, to the unsavory neighborhood of the river-side.
By this time his mind was made up. The forecast shadow of meditated6 crime traveled before him already, as he threaded his way among his fellow-men.
He had been to the vestry of St. Columb Major, and had satisfied himself that he was misled by no false report. There was the entry in the Marriage Register. The one unexplained mystery was the mystery of Launce’s conduct in permitting his wife to return to her father’s house. Utterly7 unable to account for this proceeding8, Turlington could only accept facts as they were, and determine to make the most of his time, while the woman who had deceived him was still under his roof. A hideous9 expression crossed his face as he realized the idea that he had got her (unprotected by her husband) in his house. “When Launcelot Linzie does come to claim her,” he said to himself, “he shall find I have been even with him.” He looked at his watch. Was it possible to save the last train and get back that night? No — the last train had gone. Would she take advantage of his absence to escape? He had little fear of it. She would never have allowed her aunt to send him to Lord Winwood’s house, if she had felt the slightest suspicion of his discovering the truth in that quarter. Returning by the first train the next morning, he might feel sure of getting back in time. Meanwhile he had the hours of the night before him. He could give his mind to the serious question that must be settled before he left London — the question of repaying the forty thousand pounds. There was but one way of getting the money now. Sir Joseph had executed his Will; Sir Joseph’s death would leave his sole executor and trustee (the lawyer had said it!) master of his fortune. Turlington determined10 to be master of it in four-and-twenty hours — striking the blow, without risk to himself, by means of another hand. In the face of the probabilities, in the face of the facts, he had now firmly persuaded himself that Sir Joseph was privy11 to the fraud that had been practiced on him. The Marriage–Settlement, the Will, the presence of the family at his country house — all these he believed to be so many stratagems12 invented to keep him deceived until the last moment. The truth was in those words which he had overheard between Sir Joseph and Launce — and in Launce’s presence (privately encouraged, no doubt) at Muswell Hill. “Her father shall pay me for it doubly: with his purse and with his life.” With that thought in his heart, Richard Turlington wound his way through the streets by the river-side, and stopped at a blind alley13 called Green Anchor Lane, infamous14 to this day as the chosen resort of the most abandoned wretches15 whom London can produce.
The policeman at the corner cautioned him as he turned into the alley. “They won’t hurt me!” he answered, and walked on to a public-house at the bottom of the lane.
The landlord at the door silently recognized him, and led the way in. They crossed a room filled with sailors of all nations drinking; ascended16 a staircase at the back of the house, and stopped at the door of the room on the second floor. There the landlord spoke17 for the first time. “He has outrun his allowance, sir, as usual. You will find him with hardly a rag on his back. I doubt if he will last much longer. He had another fit of the horrors last night, and the doctor thinks badly of him.” With that introduction he opened the door, and Turlington entered the room.
On the miserable18 bed lay a gray-headed old man of gigantic stature19, with nothing on him but a ragged20 shirt and a pair of patched, filthy21 trousers. At the side of the bed, with a bottle of gin on the rickety table between them, sat two hideous leering, painted monsters, wearing the dress of women. The smell of opium22 was in the room, as well as the smell of spirits. At Turlington’s appearance, the old man rose on the bed and welcomed him with greedy eyes and outstretched hand.
“Money, master!” he called out hoarsely23. “A crown piece in advance, for the sake of old times!”
Turlington turned to the women without answering, purse in hand.
“His clothes are at the pawnbroker’s, of course. How much?”
“Thirty shillings.”
“Bring them here, and be quick about it. You will find it worth your while when you come back.”
The women took the pawnbroker’s tickets from the pockets of the man’s trousers and hurried out.
Turlington closed the door, and seated himself by the bedside. He laid his hand familiarly on the giant’s mighty24 shoulder, looked him full in the face, and said, in a whisper,
“Thomas Wildfang!”
The man started, and drew his huge hairy hand across his eyes, as if in doubt whether he was waking or sleeping. “It’s better than ten years, master, since you called me by my name. If I am Thomas Wildfang, what are you?”
“Your captain, once more.”
Thomas Wildfang sat up on the side of the bed, and spoke his next words cautiously in Turlington’s ear.
“Another man in the way?”
“Yes.”
The giant shook his bald, bestial25 head dolefully. “Too late. I’m past the job. Look here.”
He held up his hand, and showed it trembling incessantly26. “I’m an old man,” he said, and let his hand drop heavily again on the bed beside him.
Turlington looked at the door, and whispered back,
“The man is as old as you are. And the money is worth having.”
“How much?”
“A hundred pounds.”
The eyes of Thomas Wildfang fastened greedily on Turlington’s face. “Let’s hear,” he said. “Softly, captain. Let’s hear.”
When the women came back with the clothes, Turlington had left the room. Their promised reward lay waiting for them on the table, and Thomas Wildfang was eager to dress himself and be gone. They could get but one answer from him to every question they put. He had business in hand, which was not to be delayed. They would see him again in a day or two, with money in his purse. With that assurance he took his cudgel from the corner of the room, and stalked out swiftly by the back door of the house into the night.
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1
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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ascertaining
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的现在分词 ) | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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6
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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7
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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stratagems
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| n.诡计，计谋( stratagem的名词复数 )；花招 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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18
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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opium
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| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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bestial
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| adj.残忍的；野蛮的 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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