I had passed the morning in study. Luncheon10 over, I jotted11 down some notes for my speech on the following Saturday. Next, I sent Lena a note promising12 to look in on Sunday afternoon, sallied out with it to the post, and then ensconced myself in an omnibus which was plying13 in the direction of Islington. Whither was I bound? For the house of my friend Mrs. Hartmann, whom, as already mentioned, I had not seen for some time, and whose conversation just now might be fraught14 with peculiar15 interest. Had the son as yet seen the mother? Had any inkling of these vaguely16 discussed new plots reached her? Had she any clue to the mystery tapped over-night? Questions such as these surged up in dozens, and I determined17, if possible, to feel my way to their answers.
38It was late in the afternoon when I reached Mrs. Hartmann’s modest villa18 in Islington. The maid who admitted me said that she was not at home, having gone to visit a sick child in the neighbourhood. She expected her back to tea, and meanwhile perhaps I would like to wait. There was clearly no resource open to me but to do so, and entering the narrow hall I was shown into a drawing-room, simply but withal not uncomfortably furnished. The bay window which lighted the apartment looked on to a neat grass-plot diversified19 by some small but well-kept parterres.
There was little within to catch the eye. Exploring the walls I came across a shelf full of musty books, mathematical and engineering text-books, and a variety of treatises20 on political economy and the sciences, evidently mementos21 of the son! While glancing through some and noting the numerous traces of careful study, the thought struck me that the photograph of their misguided possessor might also be accessible. I had been many times in the room before, but had never been favoured with the old lady’s confidences on the score of her son. The wound caused by his crime was ever green, and I, at least, was not cruel enough to disturb it. However, being now left alone I resolved to consult her albums, 39which, at any rate, might serve to while away the hour. Loosening the clasp of one that lay near to hand, I turned over its leaves rapidly. As a rule, I dislike collections of this sort; there is a prosiness peculiar to albums which forbids incautious research. But here the hunt was of interest. True, there were mediocre22 denizens23 in plenty, shoals of cousins, sisters, and aunts, hordes24 of nonentities25 whom Burnett would have dubbed26 only “fit for fuel,” but there was discoverable one very satisfactory tenant—a loose photograph marked on the back, “R. Hartmann, taken when twenty-three years of age,” just about the time of the celebrated27 bridge incident.
It was the face of a young man evidently of high capacity and unflinching resolution. A slight moustache brushed the upper lip, and set off a clear-cut but somewhat cruel mouth. A more completely independent expression I never saw. The lineaments obscured by time defied accurate survey, but the general effect produced was that they indicated an arbitrary and domineering soul, utterly28 impatient of control and loftily contemptuous of its kind.
I was carefully conning29 the face when I heard the garden-gate creak on its hinges, a sound followed by the rattle30 of a latch-key in the lock of the front door. Mrs. Hartmann had returned. Passing into the room, 40she met me with a pleasant smile which showed up in curious contrast to the look of depression so familiar to me of yore. I interpreted that brightness in an instant. Hartmann had returned, and had paid her the visit of one raised from the dead. But of his terrible designs, of his restless hatred31 of society, he had clearly told her nothing.
Hers was an expressive32 face, and the shadows upon it were few enough to warrant that inference. Probably he had smoothed over the past and fooled her with some talk of a reformed life and a changed creed33. It is so easy for an only son to persuade a mother—particularly when he rises after long years from a supposed grave.
“Well, Mr. Stanley, you are the last person I expected to see. I heard you were to be in Paris to-day.”
“So, my dear Mrs. Hartmann, I was, but the Northertons, you see, have returned, and I had hoped to have done some touring with the old gentleman.”
“Or perhaps with Miss Lena. No, don’t look so innocent, for she tells me more than you think. But what of this return? I had a note from her when she was in Paris, but she said nothing about it?”
“Some will business,” I explained. “You will be glad to hear she comes in for £5000 by it.”
41“A nice little nest-egg to begin house-keeping upon. I think, Mr. Stanley, you two young people ought to do very well.”
“I hope so,” I said, foregoing useless secrecy—what a chatterbox Lena could be! “At any rate I see no very dangerous rocks ahead at present.”
THE PHOTOGRAPH.
The conversation wandered for some time among various topics, when I mentioned that I had been looking over the album.
“And very stupid work you must have found it,” she said.
“Oh, it kept me busy while waiting. By the way, 42one of the photographs is loose,” and I handed her that of her son, this time with the face upwards34. The ruse35 was effective, and the conversation took the desired course.
“Have you never seen that face before? It is that of Rudolf, my misguided son, of whom you must have heard. Poor boy! Ten years have rolled by since his death.”
Admirably cool this mother; she at least was not to be “squeezed” offhand36. But my watched-for chance had come.
“My dear Mrs. Hartmann, he is alive, and you know it. Two days ago he was in this very house.” I had drawn37 my bow at a venture, but the shaft38 served me well. The coup39 was decisive. The old lady’s face betrayed complete discomfiture40 mingled41 with obvious signs of alarm. She made no attempt to contradict me. “What!” she stammered42 out at length. “Are you also in the secret? Are you, too, one of——”
“No,” I replied bluntly, anticipating her meaning. “I have never met your son, though I know something perhaps of his movements. But believe me you may trust me as you would yourself. He was a dynamitard, but he is your son, and that is enough for me. Rest assured of my silence.”
43Her distress43 visibly abated44.
“Thanks, many thanks. I feel I can rely on you—even to lend him a helping45 hand should the time ever come. Ah! he is a changed man, an entirely46 changed man. A bright future may await him even now across the sea. But this visit to me—so sudden, so brief—I fear lest it may cost him dear. You, a private man, have found it out; why may not the lynx-eyed police also? It is terrible, this suspense47. How can I be sure that he is safe at this moment?”
“Oh, as to that, happily I can reassure48 you. Your son is safe enough—nay, as safe as the most anxious mother could desire. How or where I cannot say, but I have it on the best possible authority. In fact, only last night I heard as much from the lips of one who should surely know—Michael Schwartz himself!”
“That evil genius! Is he too in London? Ah! if he is content, all is well. No tigress ever watched better over her cub49 than Schwartz over my son. Would his likings had blown elsewhere! That man was my son’s tutor in vice50. But for him Rudolf might have been an honour to his country. And what is he now? An outlaw51, in the shadow of the gallows,”—and she hid her face in her handkerchief and wept bitterly. I waited patiently till the tempest was over, putting in a soothing52 phrase here and there 44and painting black white with the zeal53 of a skilful54 casuist. One need not be too scrupulous55 when sufferers such as this are concerned.
“He has told you nothing of his movements?” I remarked cautiously.
“Nothing, except that he was leaving shortly for Hamburg, whence he was to proceed immediately to New York. Some months later on I may join him there, but for the present all is uncertain.” One more deception56 of Hartmann’s, but a kindly57 one; obviously it was better not to disturb the illusions which the old lady thus fondly cherished—her reformed son, his prospective58 honourable59 life, the vision of a lasting60 reunion abroad. Were she to suspect that mischief61 was again being plotted by the anarchist8, what a cruel scattering62 of her hopes would follow!
I assured her that the chances were all in her son’s favour, and that once in America he could set at naught63 all possibilities of discovery. Meanwhile, I had become aware that nothing of importance to my quest was to be drawn from Mrs. Hartmann. Her son's meteoric64 visit, prompted by some gleam of noble sentiment, had evidently left her ignorant of his new inhuman65 plottings. Ere long I rose to leave, not, however, without having promised that, should 45Hartmann ever cross my path, I would stand by him for her sake in a possible hour of danger. Under what circumstances I was to meet this extraordinary man—how absurd then my poor well-meant promise of assistance was to appear—will be manifest from the ensuing narrative66.
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1 foe | |
n.敌人,仇敌 | |
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2 merge | |
v.(使)结合,(使)合并,(使)合为一体 | |
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3 vagaries | |
n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 );异想天开;异常行为;难以预测的情况 | |
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4 tenants | |
n.房客( tenant的名词复数 );佃户;占用者;占有者 | |
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5 tangible | |
adj.有形的,可触摸的,确凿的,实际的 | |
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6 scramble | |
v.爬行,攀爬,杂乱蔓延,碎片,片段,废料 | |
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7 anarchists | |
无政府主义者( anarchist的名词复数 ) | |
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8 anarchist | |
n.无政府主义者 | |
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9 mightily | |
ad.强烈地;非常地 | |
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10 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
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11 jotted | |
v.匆忙记下( jot的过去式和过去分词 );草草记下,匆匆记下 | |
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12 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
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13 plying | |
v.使用(工具)( ply的现在分词 );经常供应(食物、饮料);固定往来;经营生意 | |
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14 fraught | |
adj.充满…的,伴有(危险等)的;忧虑的 | |
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15 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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16 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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17 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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18 villa | |
n.别墅,城郊小屋 | |
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19 diversified | |
adj.多样化的,多种经营的v.使多样化,多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 );进入新的商业领域 | |
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20 treatises | |
n.专题著作,专题论文,专著( treatise的名词复数 ) | |
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21 mementos | |
纪念品,令人回忆的东西( memento的名词复数 ) | |
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22 mediocre | |
adj.平常的,普通的 | |
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23 denizens | |
n.居民,住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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24 hordes | |
n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 );部落 | |
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25 nonentities | |
n.无足轻重的人( nonentity的名词复数 );蝼蚁 | |
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26 dubbed | |
v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 );把…称为;配音;复制 | |
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27 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
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28 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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29 conning | |
v.诈骗,哄骗( con的现在分词 );指挥操舵( conn的现在分词 ) | |
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30 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
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31 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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32 expressive | |
adj.表现的,表达…的,富于表情的 | |
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33 creed | |
n.信条;信念,纲领 | |
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34 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
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35 ruse | |
n.诡计,计策;诡计 | |
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36 offhand | |
adj.临时,无准备的;随便,马虎的 | |
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37 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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38 shaft | |
n.(工具的)柄,杆状物 | |
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39 coup | |
n.政变;突然而成功的行动 | |
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40 discomfiture | |
n.崩溃;大败;挫败;困惑 | |
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41 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
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42 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
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44 abated | |
减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 ); 减去; 降价; 撤消(诉讼) | |
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45 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
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46 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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47 suspense | |
n.(对可能发生的事)紧张感,担心,挂虑 | |
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48 reassure | |
v.使放心,使消除疑虑 | |
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49 cub | |
n.幼兽,年轻无经验的人 | |
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50 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
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51 outlaw | |
n.歹徒,亡命之徒;vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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52 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
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53 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
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54 skilful | |
(=skillful)adj.灵巧的,熟练的 | |
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55 scrupulous | |
adj.审慎的,小心翼翼的,完全的,纯粹的 | |
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56 deception | |
n.欺骗,欺诈;骗局,诡计 | |
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57 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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58 prospective | |
adj.预期的,未来的,前瞻性的 | |
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59 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
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60 lasting | |
adj.永久的,永恒的;vbl.持续,维持 | |
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61 mischief | |
n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
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62 scattering | |
n.[物]散射;散乱,分散;在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的;分散在不同范围的;广泛扩散的;(选票)数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式);散布;驱散 | |
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63 naught | |
n.无,零 [=nought] | |
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64 meteoric | |
adj.流星的,转瞬即逝的,突然的 | |
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65 inhuman | |
adj.残忍的,不人道的,无人性的 | |
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66 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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