For a detective whose talents, had not been recognized at headquarters, I possessed1 an ambition which, fortunately for my standing2 with the lieutenant3 of the precinct, had not yet been expressed in words. Though I had small reason for expecting great things of myself, I had always cherished the hope that if a big case came my way I should be found able to do something with it something more, that is, than I had seen accomplished4 by the police of the District of Columbia since I had had the honor of being one of their number. Therefore, when I found myself plunged5, almost without my own volition6, into the Jeffrey Moore affair, I believed that the opportunity had come whereby I might distinguish myself.
It had complications, this Jeffrey-Moore affair; greater ones than the public ever knew, keen as the interest in it ran both in and out of Washington. This is why I propose to tell the story of this great tragedy from my own standpoint, even if in so doing I risk the charge of attempting to exploit my own connection with this celebrated7 case. In its course I encountered as many disappointments as triumphs, and brought out of the affair a heart as sore as it was satisfied; for I am a lover of women and—
But I am keeping you from the story itself.
I was at the station-house the night Uncle David came in. He was always called Uncle David, even by the urchins8 who followed him in the street; so I am showing him no disrespect, gentleman though he is, by giving him a title which as completely characterized him in those days, as did his moody9 ways, his quaint10 attire11 and the persistence12 with which he kept at his side his great mastiff, Rudge. I had long since heard of the old gentleman as one of the most interesting residents of the precinct. I had even seen him more than once on the avenue, but I had never before been brought face to face with him, and consequently had much too superficial a knowledge of his countenance13 to determine offhand14 whether the uneasy light in his small gray eyes was natural to them, or simply the result of present excitement. But when he began to talk I detected an unmistakable tremor15 in his tones, and decided16 that he was in a state of suppressed agitation17; though he appeared to have nothing more alarming to impart than the fact that he had seen a light burning in some house presumably empty.
It was all so trivial that I gave him but scant18 attention till he let a name fall which caused me to prick19 up my ears and even to put in a word. "The Moore house," he had said.
"The Moore house?" I repeated in amazement20. "Are you speaking of the Moore house?"
A thousand recollections came with the name.
"What other?" he grumbled21, directing toward me a look as keen as it was impatient. "Do you think that I would bother myself long about a house I had no interest in, or drag Rudge from his warm rug to save some ungrateful neighbor from a possible burglary? No, it is my house which some rogue22 has chosen to enter. That is," he suavely23 corrected, as he saw surprise in every eye, "the house which the law will give me, if anything ever happens to that chit of a girl whom my brother left behind him."
Growling24 some words at the dog, who showed a decided inclination25 to lie down where he was, the old man made for the door and in another moment would have been in the street, if I had not stepped after him.
"You are a Moore and live in or near that old house?" I asked.
The surprise with which he met this question daunted26 me a little.
"How long have you been in Washington, I should like to ask?" was his acrid27 retort.
"Oh, some five months."
His good nature, or what passed for such in this irascible old man, returned in an instant; and he curtly28 but not unkindly remarked:
"You haven't learned much in that time." Then, with a nod more ceremonious than many another man's bow, he added, with sudden dignity: "I am of the elder branch an live in the cottage fronting the old place. I am the only resident on the block. When you have lived here longer you will know why that especial neighborhood is not a favorite one with those who can not boast of the Moore blood. For the present, let us attribute the bad name that it holds to—malaria." And with a significant hitch29 of his lean shoulders which set in undulating motion every fold of the old-fashioned cloak he wore, he started again for the door.
But my curiosity was by this time roused to fever heat. I knew more about this house than he gave me credit for. No one who had read the papers of late, much less a man connected with the police, could help being well informed in all the details of its remarkable30 history. What I had failed to know was his close relationship to the family whose name for the last two weeks had been in every mouth.
"Wait!" I called out. "You say that you live opposite the Moore house. You can then tell me—"
But he had no mind to stop for any gossip.
"It was all in the papers," he called back. "Read them. But first be sure to find out who has struck a light in the house that we all know has not even a caretaker in it."
It was good advice. My duty and my curiosity both led me to follow it.
Perhaps you have heard of the distinguishing feature of this house; if so, you do not need my explanations. But if, for any reason, you are ignorant of the facts which within a very short time have set a final seal of horror upon this old, historic dwelling31, then you will be glad to read what has made and will continue to make the Moore house in Washington one to be pointed32 at in daylight and shunned33 after dark, not only by superstitious34 colored folk, but by all who are susceptible35 to the most ordinary emotions of fear and dread36.
It was standing when Washington was a village. It antedates37 the Capitol and the White House. Built by a man of wealth, it bears to this day the impress of the large ideas and quiet elegance38 of colonial times; but the shadow which speedily fell across it made it a marked place even in those early days. While it has always escaped the hackneyed epithet39 of "haunted," families that have moved in have as quickly moved out, giving as their excuse that no happiness was to be found there and that sleep was impossible under its roof. That there was some reason for this lack of rest within walls which were not without their tragic40 reminiscences, all must acknowledge. Death had often occurred there, and while this fact can be stated in regard to most old houses, it is not often that one can say, as in this case, that it was invariably sudden and invariably of one character. A lifeless man, lying outstretched on a certain hearthstone, might be found once in a house and awaken41 no special comment; but when this same discovery has been made twice, if not thrice, during the history of a single dwelling, one might surely be pardoned a distrust of its seemingly home-like appointments, and discern in its slowly darkening walls the presence of an evil which if left to itself might perish in the natural decay of the e place, but which, if met and challenged, might strike again and make another blot42 on its thrice-crimsoned hearthstone.
But these are old fables43 which I should hardly, presume to mention, had it not been for the recent occurrence which has recalled them to all men's minds and given to this long empty and slowly crumbling44 building an importance which has spread its fame from one end of the country to the other. I refer to the tragedy attending the wedding lately celebrated there.
Veronica Moore, rich, pretty and wilful45, had long cherished a strange liking46 for this frowning old home of her ancestors, and, at the most critical time of her life, conceived the idea of proving to herself and to society at large that no real ban lay upon it save in the imagination of the superstitious. So, being about to marry the choice of her young heart, she caused this house to be opened for the wedding ceremony; with what result, you know.
Though the occasion was a joyous47 one and accompanied by all that could give cheer to such a function, it had not escaped the old-time shadow. One of the guests straying into the room of ancient and unhallowed memory, the one room which had not been thrown open to the crowd, had been found within five minutes of the ceremony lying on its dolorous48 hearthstone, dead; and though the bride was spared a knowledge of the dreadful fact till the holy words were said, a panic had seized the guests and emptied the houses suddenly and completely as though the plague had been discovered there.
This is why I hastened to follow Uncle David when he told me that all was not right in this house of tragic memories.
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1
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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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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3
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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4
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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5
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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6
volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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7
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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8
urchins
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| n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 )；淘气鬼；猬；海胆 | |
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9
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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10
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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11
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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12
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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13
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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14
offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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15
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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16
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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18
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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21
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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22
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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suavely
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24
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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26
daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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28
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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29
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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30
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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31
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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32
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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33
shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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antedates
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| v.（在历史上）比…为早( antedate的第三人称单数 )；先于；早于；（在信、支票等上）填写比实际日期早的日期 | |
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38
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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39
epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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40
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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41
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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42
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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43
fables
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| n.寓言( fable的名词复数 )；神话，传说 | |
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44
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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45
wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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46
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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47
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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48
dolorous
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| adj.悲伤的；忧愁的 | |
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