In the meantime I ordered the best breakfast that could be obtained in the place, settled the bill, and arranged with the landlord for the use of a horse in place of the one that I had so wilfully4 ridden to death two nights before; then I felt that all was ready, on my side, for the earliest possible start.
The storm had ceased in the small hours of the morning, and now the sun was blazing away once more in all its intensity5; and as I looked across the wide street and noticed the heat shimmering6 over the roadway, I knew that the sooner we started the easier and pleasanter our journey would be.
I then made my way to the bedroom, and, after considerable difficulty, managed to get Flaxman into a wakeful condition and told him that we should start to ride back to the station directly after breakfast; then left him to his toilet and went to my meal.
I had only just commenced to help myself to the good and substantial fare that had been placed before me, when the landlord entered the room and came over to my table. After enquiring8 how I had found Flaxman after his night’s rest, he brought a chair close to mine, and I could plainly see that he was preparing to be communicative.
“Mr. Tregaskis,” he said, lowering his voice so that the other occupants of the room could not overhear him, “I want to have a talk with you before Mr. Flaxman comes down. I don’t usually take much interest in other people’s affairs, but seeing that both of you gentlemen have always treated me so well, and, if I may say so, we have always been good friends, I think that it is my duty to give you some information that may be of service to you.”
“Indeed, that’s very good of you, Johnson,” I replied, nervously9 I confess, for, somehow, I could not but feel disquieted10 owing to recent events, which had not a little upset my nervous equilibrium11.
“I don’t know about that,” he said; “but this I do know, that when a man treats me decently, I do the same for him; but when one has to deal with the sharp gentry12, one must act accordingly.”
This latter remark was made with a mysterious air, and with such sincere feeling that I knew the man had a desire to do me a good turn, but was not quite certain how I should take his interference in my affairs; therefore, to put him quite at his ease and more than that, to hear what he had to say--for to tell the truth I was extremely desirous of doing so--I gave him to understand that I was deeply interested, which indeed I was; whereupon, in response to my advances, he opened up his subject to me.
“No doubt you wonder what on earth it is I am about to tell you, but as a matter of fact both you and Mr. Flaxman have an interest in the affair, and therefore I’m going to give you all the information I can, and when you have heard what I have to say, you can discuss the matter with me, or not, as you feel disposed; but, whatever results, I shall always feel that I have done my best for you, sir.”
“Upon my word, Johnson,” I said, “I hardly know what to say. That you have some valuable information to impart to me, I feel convinced; but you whet13 my curiosity to such a degree that I really must ask you to gratify it. What on earth is it?”
“Well, without beating about the bush any further,” he said, and he leant quite near to me and almost whispered; “there’s some conspiracy14 going on in which you and Mr. Flaxman are concerned. Of that much I am certain. From information, slight ’tis true, but still information I have gathered, I feel I am right and it is my bounden duty to tell you.”
“Well, for Heaven’s sake, man, do start; I am all attention; but what it can be I’m at a loss to understand.”
“Do you remember the cove15 that came in and sat smoking last night in the parlour with us? A new chum we voted him. The chap who wore gloves.”
“Of course I do. He told us he was a new chum, and one could easily see that he was.”
“Humph! Well, he isn’t, that’s a certainty. At first I thought he was, but when I got to bed and began to think deeper about it, I felt I had met the man somewhere before, but for the life of me I couldn’t think where. I puzzled my brain over it again and again, and at last fell asleep with him on my mind, and the most curious part of the whole affair is the way that I did recall who he was and where I last saw him.
“I wonder if you remember about eight years ago the notorious bushranger, Black; Captain Black he used to call himself. He received six years’ imprisonment16 for some blackguard job. At that time I was living in the district he frequented, and I can well recollect17 the exciting moments we spent when the whole neighbourhood was trying to secure him; but, somehow or other, he always managed to avoid capture, until at last he was given away at his hiding-place by one of his pals18, who afterwards turned King’s evidence. Then the police took him. I was present at his trial, and can remember, as if it was only yesterday, the calm and collected way that he stood in the dock and took his sentence. Whatever other faults he has, there is no doubt whatever the man had great pluck.
“But, by Jove, he used to give us some shocking frights. It seems only a day since the time when I used to lie awake at night straining my ears for every sound, which I felt would be ‘Black’s gang,’ as they were called. However, we were never favoured with a personal visit from the lot, although the next station was. But then, all this is now ancient history. The gang got lagged, and serve ’em right. We’ve no use for a dirty lot of blackguards like his. They used to say he was well-born, a gentleman, and I firmly believe they were right, at least, judging from appearances, for I never saw a criminal turned out so well in my life, and I’ve seen a few.”
I replied that I had known all about him, and well I did, for he was a veritable Ned Kelly, and the wonderful adventures of the man made a very great impression upon me at the time; I remember I used to picture myself as one of the police who took him, and I envied them their task in securing one of the shrewdest and most dare--devil of criminals.
“It’s very curious that just after he had left this morning, I should go to my desk to find a letter I had placed there, and the first thing my eye lighted on was this old paper, giving, as you will see, the whole account of his trial and a portrait of Captain Black.”
With that he produced an old and soiled newspaper, and, after carefully smoothing out the creases19 with his fat red hands, placed it before me. In the text I saw a crude portrait of the criminal. It might have been the man Vandergrave, or anyone else, as far as I was able to judge, but the landlord was so certain that he was correct in his assertion, that I did not argue the matter with him.
“All this is very interesting, Johnson,” I said, “but for the life of me I cannot see what this man’s history can have to do with me, or Flaxman, unless you think we were members of his beautiful gang. I conclude from what you have told me that you are certain this chap Vandergrave is really Black, and that he has some scheme on hand in which we are mixed up in a mysterious way.”
“That’s it, Mr. Tregaskis, that’s it. It certainly sounds a fairy tale, but it’s true, nevertheless, and I will tell you my reasons for thinking so. He ordered his breakfast early this morning, for he was anxious to get along quickly, he said. When sitting down to it, he began in a casual way to pump me with regard to you and your station. How far off was it? Was it a large station? How many hands do you employ? What sort of a house was it? What was the best route to take to get to it? I, of course, innocently enough, told him, as we are justly proud of your station.
“Those few enquiries led to a great many more, and at last he asked me whether there were any ladies up at the station. ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Oh, I only ask out of idle curiosity,’ he replied. ‘I remember that when Mr. Tregaskis was settling his difference with the Irish gentleman last evening the latter apologised for speaking of the lady as he did. I assumed, therefore, that a lady does reside at the station.’
“‘There may be, or there may not be,’ I answered. ‘If there is,’ I said, ‘it’s Mr. Tregaskis’s business and not mine; I don’t worry myself enquiring into other folk’s affairs,’ for by now I was getting anxious at being asked all these questions, and it made me a bit suspicious, for I felt that the joker wanted to know more than was good for him.
“‘I was only curious to know,’ he answered. “By the way, what is Mr. Flaxman like? I once knew a Flaxman at Cambridge, a tall fair man. Of course it may not be my man, but it’s rather an unusual name, and it would be very interesting if I were to meet an old friend in the wilds of Australia.
“‘Is he married?’ he went on, and I told him I knew very little about Mr. Flaxman, but that if he wanted to know anything more he could ask the gentleman himself, as he had arrived late last night to see you, and, by Jove, directly he heard this, he went as white as a sheet, and it was some minutes before he recovered; then he made some small excuse, paid his bill, ordered his horse, and went, and in my opinion he was in a devilish hurry to get off. From his talk and enquiries I’m quite sure the chap’s not what he sets up to be; in fact, my suspicions were aroused by his hands. If that chap ain’t done time, well, I’m not the landlord of this blooming place, that’s all.”
“Now, that’s very strange; I noticed his hands myself last night. It’s most curious that he should take such a huge interest in a man he’s never met before,” I said.
Then I remembered the way he worked the conversation round the night before until the landlord told him we were the largest station owners in the district, and it suddenly flashed across my mind that he knew Flaxman’s name without my having told him.
The more I thought of it the more peculiar20 and mysterious it seemed. Recent events had caused me to be careful; and now I wondered if this man was in any way connected with the red-bearded villain21 who had assaulted both Moira and Flaxman.
I told the landlord what Flaxman had told me, how he had been attacked by the rascal22, but I was careful to leave out any mention of Moira or her disappearance23.
When I had finished my story the landlord asked for a description of the assailant.
“As far as I could gather from Flaxman he is very tall, about six feet three, with a red, ragged24 beard, immensely broad and powerfully built, roughly dressed, and looks like a sundowner or a horse thief.”
“My word, that’s Mike O’Connor’s description to a tee,” gasped25 the landlord in a state of immense excitement. “He’s one of the worst blackguards in Australia, been in choky I don’t know how many times for bushranging, horse stealing, and devil knows what other crimes. We hoped we’d got rid of the beast for good, as he hasn’t been seen in these parts for five or six years.”
“Perhaps he’s been in prison.”
“Most likely, and I wish he was there still. Just fancy, Mike O’Connor! By gad26, you’ll have to keep your eyes skinned if he’s on the job.”
“Yes, judging from poor old Flaxman’s experience, I shall,” I replied, putting down my cup and pushing my chair back ready to rise from the table. “Somehow, Johnson,” I said, “I cannot help feeling that this chap Vandergrave, or Black, or whatever he chooses to call himself, and O’Connor, have some design upon us of which we know nothing. But what the reason is, Heaven alone knows. The whole thing is a mystery, and it is incumbent27 upon us to fathom28 it; and, by Jove, I intend to do so, whatever the consequences.”
With that I rose from the table, filled my pipe, and was about to leave the room when Johnson followed me to the door.
“Mr. Tregaskis, look here. If at any time you want assistance, will you let me know, and I’ll be with you post haste? I tell you quite candidly29, I don’t like the look of things. I know these precious beauties too well to suppose they mean no harm.”
“Thanks very much indeed, my friend,” I replied. “If the occasion arises, which I pray it may not, you may be sure I shall send you a message.”
“And I’ll be there for a certainty,” he replied warmly. “But, in the meantime, are you going to tell Mr. Flaxman anything of what I have told you?”
“No, I don’t think I shall just yet. I may tell him as we ride to the station. Will you please let him know I shall be back before he has finished his breakfast?”
I then strolled out of the house and turned my steps in the direction of the police station, for I was anxious to hear what the superintendent30 had to say on the subject of the recent occurrences.
As I passed along the footway, smoking my pipe, and trying to analyse the situation in my mind, I suddenly found myself face to face with the most useful man of any that I could meet under the circumstances. His name was Braithwaite, and he occupied the important position of inspecting officer of police, while his duty consisted in visiting the different district police stations and generally seeing that all was carried on as it should be. He had stayed at Montalta on many occasions, we had been drawn31 into a very close bond of friendship, and I found him a real good fellow in every way.
As we warmly shook hands, he expressed surprise at meeting me parading the street at this early hour in the morning, just as if I were out for a constitutional.
“Well, as a matter of fact, old chap, I was on my way to pay a visit to the police station.”
“Eh, what? Going to give yourself up for the crime of still being a bachelor, I suppose.”
He always chaffed me unmercifully for the selfish way, as he put it, that I withheld32 all the good things of the earth stored away at Montalta from the female sex, and that it was a crying shame I should be allowed to remain unmarried, while there were so many charming girls only too ready and willing to make me happy and comfortable for ever.
“No,” I replied, “I’m not going to give myself up yet. I want a little more freedom.”
“Freedom be hanged, you old dog, you want a wife, and I shall have to see that you get one without further delay. Joking apart, though, what’s up?”
“Really, Braithwaite, I’m awfully33 delighted to see you. You’re the very man of all others in the world I want. Can you turn back to the police station and have a chat in private?”
“Certainly, old boy. I’m entirely34 at your service, but I hope it’s nothing serious; you look awfully glum35. Is the station burnt down?”
“No, not yet, I hope,” I answered as we stepped out side by side.
“Well, you must let me hear all about it,” he said.
It did not take many minutes to walk to the police station, which was perhaps the most imposing36 building in the place. At Braithwaite’s invitation I entered and passed along a stone-flagged passage, then followed him into a room at the back, which he used as an office. It was extremely simple in its furniture, containing only a large iron safe in one corner, a roll top desk in the centre, a revolving37 chair, and a couple of wicker easy chairs. The walls were hung with framed photographs of policemen in the conventional and extremely unnatural38 attitudes generally adopted by the portrait photographer, while each had stern duty portrayed39 upon his features. The end wall was ornamented40 with a neat design carried out in handcuffs, doubtless the work of a hand that could find beauty in the most sinister41 instruments.
Pushing one of the easy chairs over, Braithwaite produced a cigar-case and handed it to me. I selected a cigar and proceeded to light it.
“Now then, out with it. What crime have you committed?”
“None yet,” I answered, “but there’s no knowing what I may do, if I’m put to it; and, taking in consideration the circumstances which I am about to inform you of, it looks as if we are in for a bit of trouble, one way and another.”
“Oh, indeed! Well, tell me all about it, so that I may judge for myself.”
Then I told him everything that had occurred since Moira first came to the station, and withheld nothing, for I knew the man so thoroughly42 that my secrets were perfectly43 safe in his keeping. With this feeling in my mind it made the telling easy. I related how I had fought the Tipperary Boy, and of the arrival of the man who called himself Vandergrave; and, finally, the landlord’s recent conversation with me, and his assertion that Vandergrave was really Black, and that it was most probably O’Connor who attacked Moira.
When I finished my yarn44, Braithwaite sat still in his chair, taking slow pulls at his pipe and blowing the smoke out of the left corner of his mouth. There was a look of earnest consideration in his grey eyes, those eyes that look so straight into one’s own that they seem to search into the very brain to diagnose the motives46 germinating47 there.
After a minute or two had passed in silence, he rose and went to the door, and called the superintendent. When this officer came, I heard him enter into a whispered conversation, which lasted a minute or two, then the man went away and Braithwaite returned to his chair.
“Do you think, old chap, you could recognise this Vandergrave if I produce a photo?”
“Most certainly I could, for I took careful stock of him last night; he interested me not a little, principally from the fact that I considered him to be a new chum.”
“I have no doubt about the correctness of Johnson’s assertion that the other fellow was O’Connor, for we have very lately received information that he is in the district, and have had instruction to watch his goings on. In fact, that’s one of the matters that brings me here.”
“Do you know him to be a bad lot then?”
“Bad lot, by gad! He’s about as big a blackguard as there is in this wide world, I should say. There is absolutely nothing too dirty for his hands to touch, and if he wants a thing he’ll go to any extremes to obtain it. Yes, Mike O’Connor is a pretty rascal, and a very dangerous one, I can tell you; he and I are old acquaintances. I got him his last two years’ imprisonment for horse stealing up in the Turon District. He’s got his knife into me, and won’t forget to make it even if he gets half a chance.”
“By Jove, old boy, I shouldn’t like your job. Too many risks for me.”
“That’s what makes it exciting,” he answered with a laugh. “If one had to consider all the risks run consequent upon the threats that are thrown at one, I reckon there wouldn’t be many police left. I must confess I like the job, there’s a realism about it that keeps the brain and body active.”
“So I should imagine; but there’s one thing about Flaxman’s story that rather puzzles me, and that is the fact that nothing was taken away from Miss Pendragon’s room at the station. O’Connor is a thief, and most probably came to obtain valuables of some sort; but perhaps he was disturbed by the dog before he could find anything sufficiently48 useful to take away.”
“Ah, I’m afraid that robbery of valuables was not the object of his visit. For, if it had been so, he would certainly not have chosen Miss Pendragon’s bedroom first; besides that, his attack on the young lady proves that he was in search of something belonging to her, for I have no doubt in my mind that he watched her leave the station, and followed her into the scrub, that being the quietest place in which he could carry out his attack; but I don’t expect he realised that Snowball was also following. That was a lucky stroke for us. If it had not been for Snowball we should not have known anything. His devotion to Miss Pendragon is most extraordinary; but it was fortunate that O’Connor did not happen to see him, or I fear Snowball would not have been in a position to tell us of any of the occurrences.”
“I say, though, what do you think was O’Connor’s motive45 for all this violence?”
“Well, in my humble49 opinion he desired to obtain some incriminating document in the possession of Miss Pendragon, and he was prepared to go to any extreme to do so. You will see, if we make this assumption our basis, how the whole story weaves itself into a probability. We’ll assume, firstly, that Miss Pendragon is in the possession of something, most likely a document, that this O’Connor desires to obtain. Perhaps he has often been to the station and threatened her, he certainly could do so without your knowledge, as both of you are generally away on some distant part of the run during the day, and the thing would be perfectly easy and safe. At last she gets frightened; doubtless the man has become aggressive, and she then thinks that the only course she can pursue is to go away. She writes you a letter and departs; O’Connor has been watching and follows; he attacks her; but not finding what he wants, he leaves her insensible, hurries off to the station, and goes straight to her room; only to be discovered by Flaxman, with the result that we know. It must be an extremely important object that necessitates50 so much risk. O’Connor would not run his head wilfully into the lion’s mouth unless a very great deal can be gained by it.”
At this juncture51 the superintendent returned with a packet of papers, which he handed to Braithwaite.
“I think you will find all you require in this, sir,” he said.
“Thanks, leave us for a little.”
The superintendent left the room, and Braithwaite opened the packet, taking from it a photograph, which he looked at for a few seconds, and then handed to me.
I took the piece of cardboard with a feeling of the most extraordinary nervousness. It was quite indescribable. I felt as if I was about to look upon something that would cause me intense horror. I gazed at it intently for a minute or two. It was a picture of a man of about forty years of age, and was without doubt a portrait of Vandergrave, for I noted52 the cynical53 expression and the features as the same as those of the man that I had met on the previous night, with the exception, of course, that the original of the photograph must have been at least ten years younger when he sat for it.
“Well, what do you make of it?” he asked.
“The man that I met last night, without a doubt,” I answered. “I could swear to him in a court of law.”
“Well, perhaps you may have to, old chap, so don’t be too eager. Now, then, do you want to hear a little of the gentleman’s career? It may interest you.”
With that he unfolded a paper and read me out some of the details.
“ ‘William Angus Hesketh, alias54 Forester, alias Black, aged7 forty-two, formerly55 resident in England, retired56 Captain 17th Dragoon Guards, came to Australia with a woman since disappeared; after having resided in the Colony eight years, received two years for forgery57; two years later, one year for horse stealing; later, received six years for robbery under arms, together with others, and among the number of his accomplices58 was Michael O’Connor.’ By Jove, I begin to see a light in this darkness. O’Connor is acting59 under instructions from, we’ll call him, Vandergrave. Now I can understand his anxiety to learn whether any woman was at your station, eh?”
“I believe you’re right, old chap,” I answered; “it’s very curious indeed.”
“No, I expect when we’ve unravelled60 the mystery a little more, we shall find it’s simplicity61 itself. But look here, Tregaskis, I want you to tell me exactly and faithfully all you know about Miss Moira Pendragon.”
“I would most gladly, Braithwaite, but I know absolutely nothing. As you are well aware, I found her in the scrub, nearly mad with fright, during a storm in the middle of the night, when her companion, a man, had been struck by lightning and killed.”
“Yes, who was that man?” he asked eagerly. He had risen and was pacing up and down the room.
“That’s more than I can tell you I tried to get it out of her, but it was impossible; she was silent on the subject, and would answer no questions. She only told me that she hated him, that he had treated her brutally62 and she was glad he was dead; more than that I could not elicit63.”
“My dear old boy,” he almost shouted, standing64 before me, “that is the crux65 of the whole thing. Miss Moira holds some secret connected with this Vandergrave, which he must have at all costs, and he has employed O’Connor to obtain it, by force if necessary. Now, tell me, did you ever hear her mention a paper or anything of the kind?”
“No, she had only the clothes she stood up in, nothing more; everything else she possessed66 we gave her.”
“Still, I’m convinced there’s something. If not, why did O’Connor ride back to the station and ransack67 her room?”
“I cannot say; I’m at a loss to understand it.”
We sat silently smoking for a few minutes, until at last Braithwaite collected the papers together, placed the photograph with them, and put all away in the packet.
“Look here, Tregaskis. You will remember I told you that this Vandergrave came to Australia with a woman who disappeared. It is not possible that Miss Pendragon can be this woman?”
“Of course not, man. She told me herself that she was not twenty-two years old, and that she was born in Australia, so she cannot be.”
“No, I suppose not. But what happened to the woman then? Maybe Miss Moira is her daughter.”
“And who is the man that was killed by lightning? I saw his face, horribly distorted in death, and I don’t think I shall ever be able to get it out of my mind.”
“Now, Tregaskis, you had better get back, and be off with Flaxman as quickly as possible to the station. I don’t think it probable that you will have any more trouble for a bit with O’Connor, it would be too risky68 for him. If you can put up with me, I will follow you in an hour or two, as I should like to consider this matter on the spot.”
“We shall only be too delighted to have you, Braithwaite; for as long as ever you can manage it. You can feel sure of the warmest of welcomes.”
“Thanks very much,” he answered. “I suppose you will set out to bring Miss Pendragon back to the station as soon as possible. I will bring over the doctor with me in case he is wanted.”
“All right.” With that I shook hands warmly with him and made my way into the street and back to the hotel, congratulating myself that I had enlisted69 the services of one of the cleverest of police officials in Australia.
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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invalids
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| 病人，残疾者( invalid的名词复数 ) | |
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wilfully
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| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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enquiring
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| a.爱打听的，显得好奇的 | |
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nervously
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disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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whet
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| v.磨快，刺激 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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creases
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
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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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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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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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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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gad
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incumbent
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| adj.成为责任的，有义务的；现任的，在职的 | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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withheld
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| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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portrayed
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| v.画像( portray的过去式和过去分词 )；描述；描绘；描画 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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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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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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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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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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germinating
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| n.& adj.发芽（的）v.（使）发芽( germinate的现在分词 ) | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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necessitates
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| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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alias
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| n.化名；别名；adv.又名 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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forgery
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| n.伪造的文件等，赝品，伪造（行为） | |
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accomplices
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| 从犯，帮凶，同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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unravelled
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| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的过去式和过去分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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crux
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| adj.十字形；难事，关键，最重要点 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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ransack
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| v.彻底搜索，洗劫 | |
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risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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