"I have."
"That is well. Seeing that one can't foretell2 what may happen from day to day, and that what I wrote was intended for your eyes alone, it was better it should be burnt. And now tell me, have you devised any plan of escape?"
"After turning over in my mind some half-dozen more or less impracticable schemes, I can only think of one which seems to hold out a tolerable prospect3 of success."
"And that is----?"
"To file through the two bars which guard the window of my prison, force out the glass-work, and then by means of a rope lower myself to the ground outside."
"An admirable scheme, and I see no reason why it should not succeed. Tell me, in what way can I help you to carry it out?"
"By procuring4 for me a couple of files and a sufficient length of rope."
"I will drive to Oakbarrow to-morrow and obtain them, after which they shall be conveyed to you either by Mrs. Sprowle or myself."
"How can I ever thank you sufficiently5?"
"Your success--and you will not fail, I feel assured--will far more than repay me. But to file through the bars will be a matter of time, will it not?"
"It will; probably a matter of three or four days, but I can't speak positively6. I don't think I have mentioned before that now and then Signor Sperani takes it into his head to pay me a stealthy visit in the middle of the night, probably with the view of satisfying himself that I am not engaged in any nefarious7 attempt to escape."
"I can well believe it. From what I have seen of him he seems to me to abound8 with underhand ways, and to distrust every one. He is one of those men who regard their own shadow with suspicion. But so far, Mr. Brabazon, I am altogether in the dark (and should you have any reason for wishing me to remain in it, pray don't hesitate a moment to tell me so), and utterly9 fail to understand how it happens that you, a nephew of Sir Everard Clinton, should have been assaulted as you were in your uncle's grounds, and be here a prisoner under your uncle's roof. I may tell you that I am indebted to Mrs. Sprowle for my knowledge of the relationship between you and Sir Everard. Doubtless it had come to her from her son, but in what way the latter learnt it I have no means of knowing."
"It will afford me very great pleasure, Miss Roylance," replied Burgo, "to explain in the fewest possible words what, doubtless, does seem to you a most inexplicable10 state of affairs."
He took a turn or two in silence, as if revolving11 in his mind in what terms he could best begin that which he wanted to say.
Dacia followed him with her eyes--those wonderful blue-gray eyes, which by some lights, when half veiled by their dark lashes12, seemed almost black, and could, when she so willed, look as cold and fathomless13 as a mountain tarn14. Just now, however, they shone with the light of eager expectancy15, and with something more than Dacia was aware of--something deeper, which sprang from another source than that. To-day its name was sympathy; what it might be six months hence it would not have been safe to prophesy16.
She was standing17 just as she had stood the night before, her face framed by the aperture18 in the door, and her long slender hands, with their interlocked fingers, resting on the little shelf outside.
And so Burgo began his story, telling her in a condensed form everything, so far as it related to his uncle, Lady Clinton, and himself, all of which is already known to the reader. Of Clara Leslie's name he made no mention, it was not necessary to his purpose that he should do so; neither did he repeat much of what had passed between his uncle and himself in the course of his last brief sojourn19 in Great Mornington Street. That he was not without his suspicions of foul20 play in the case of Sir Everett, Miss Roylance, if she chose to do so, might infer from certain of his remarks, but he was especially careful that not so much as the shadow of a definite charge should be formulated21 by him against Lady Clinton.
"Thank you, Mr. Brabazon," said Dacia, when he ceased speaking. "If my determination to help you to escape had needed any stimulus22 before, it certainly does not after what you have told me. As I gather from your narrative23, the one great object to which you still adhere is to obtain access to your uncle?"
"That is so, most certainly."
"Then--pardon my saying so--even should your--or our--plan of escape prove successful, you will only, as it seems to me, be in precisely24 the same position as before you were brought here, that is to say, you will not be a step nearer the attainment25 of your object."
"I admit it--sorrowfully. But the recovery of my liberty will give me one advantage--it will enable me to devise and, as I trust, carry into effect some other scheme for rescuing my uncle from the clutches of that----" He stopped abruptly26, and bit his lip.
Miss Roylance smiled. "You need not mince27 your phrases, as far as I am concerned, where Lady Clinton is in question," she said.
"You don't like her ladyship?" he queried28, with an ambiguous smile.
"I hate her!" was Dacia's emphatic29 reply, as her dark eyebrows30 came together for a moment. "Any milder term would be a euphemism31." Then her face broke into a smile. "And yet, you must know, Mr. Brabazon, that to all outward seeming, she and I are the best of friends. But that is the way we women are made."
"In your note you told me that the illness which carried off Colonel Innes, like my uncle's, was a lingering one."
"Yes, and to me one of the strangest features of the affair is, that Sir Everard's symptoms seem almost precisely similar to my uncle's."
Burgo drew a long breath. "Is that indeed so?" he said.
For a moment or two they gazed into each other's eyes, Dacia's slowly dilating32 the while, reading there, perchance, what neither of them cared to express in words.
"Then you can no longer wonder, Miss Roylance," continued Burgo, "at my burning anxiety to rescue my uncle from the fate which, as it seems to me, is but too surely overtaking him."
"I did not wonder from the first," she said gently. "It is only of late that my eyes have begun to open by degrees to certain things. And even now I can scarcely believe that---- No, no; it is altogether too terrible for belief!"
For a little space she covered her face with her hands, and Burgo could see that her shoulders were heaving with suppressed emotion. He made believe to be busying himself with the lamp, while giving her time to recover her composure.
"Does it not seem a strange thing, Mr. Brabazon," said Dacia, presently, "that all through my uncle's illness, which lasted over three months, I was never allowed to help in nursing him, although again and again I begged to be let do so? An old woman, an Italian, and her ladyship that is now (I never have, and I never will call her 'aunt'), took it in turns to watch by him, and would not permit me to go near him unless one or other of them was in the room at the time. And now it is the same in the case of Sir Everard. I would so gladly help to wait upon him, and do all that lies in my power to relieve the others. But, as before, I am thrust aside, and except her ladyship and Vallance no one is allowed to go near him."
"It is nothing fresh to me to be told that Lady Clinton is the most devoted33 of nurses," said Burgo, meaningly. "I heard the same thing from my uncle's own lips. I am afraid, Miss Roylance, that you fail to sufficiently appreciate her affectionate solicitude34 in not permitting you to risk your health by tending the bedside of a sick old man. But about this Signor Sperani--what object has brought him to Garion Keep?"
"To me his object is plain enough, although up till now neither he nor his sister have so much as hinted at it. It is neither more nor less than to gradually ingratiate himself with me, with the ultimate view of persuading me to become his wife. Oh, I am neither so blind nor so simple as they take me to be!"
"What a vile35 plot!" was Burgo's sole comment. Indeed, he hardly knew what to say.
"Of course, Sperani cares nothing about me for myself," resumed Dacia; "he would not give a second thought to me--a cripple and a hunchback--were it not for the prospective36 thousands I shall inherit a year hence, when I come of age."
"And this is your only home! It cannot be a happy one for you--pardon my presumption37 in saying so."
"No, it is not a happy home, but such as it is I am bound to make the best of it. It is the only home I have, or can have, till I am of age. Then I shall be my own mistress, and---- But that is nothing to the purpose." She paused for a moment, then, with a bitterness which was not without a touch of pathos38, she added: "A happy home! To me it is a phrase without meaning, so far as I myself am concerned. But enough of all this. We are wandering from the point at issue. Revenons, s'il vous plait. From what you said a little while ago I gathered that, even if you should succeed in regaining40 your freedom, you would still be at a loss what step to take which would serve to give you access to your uncle, or in any way tend to bring you and him together again."
"That is just my difficulty. Those who are in charge of him are evidently determined41 to go to every extreme in order to keep my uncle and me apart. Even if, when I regain39 my freedom, I were to enter an action for false imprisonment42, what then? I could not prove that her ladyship was in any way a party to the attack upon me and what followed, while as for Sperani, he would simply have to disappear from this part of the country and there would be an end of the affair. But let us not count our chickens before they are hatched," he continued more gaily43. "These four walls still hold me fast."
Miss Roylance hardly seemed to be heeding44 him. Her brows were knit, her eyes bent45 on vacancy46. She came back with a start and a half smile.
"Supposing," she said--"and I want you to bear in mind that it is only supposition--that Lady Clinton could be got out of the way for a short time, that is to say, that she could not merely be induced to quit her husband's side, but to leave the Keep itself for a few days, would her absence help your scheme in any way?"
"It would help it in every way, Miss Roylance," said Burgo eagerly, his black eyes flashing a sudden light. "Lady Clinton is the one and only obstacle between my uncle and me. So long as she remains47 by his side I see no possibility of being able to approach him. Remove her, and my way is easy." Then, after a pause, as he drew a step or two nearer, for he had always maintained a respectful distance between himself and her: "You would not ask me such a question, Miss Roylance, unless there was some motive48 at the back of it. Can it be possible that you have thought of some plan whereby----"
"Here is my plan without further preface, Mr. Brabazon; you can give me your opinion afterwards as to its feasibility or otherwise. If there is one person in the world whom Lady Clinton loves it is her son, young Carlo Offredi, a boy of fourteen, who, as I have already told you, is at school at Lausanne. Now, as it happens, my dearest friend--we were schoolmates for a number of years--is married to a professor in the same town. Marie would do anything for me, and my idea is, to write to her and ask her, immediately on receipt of my letter, to telegraph to Lady Clinton to the effect that her son is dangerously ill, and that her immediate49 presence is earnestly requested. I have not forgotten the name of Carlo's lycée, and the message would of course be represented as coming from there. That her ladyship will at once respond to it I do not doubt. Meanwhile," she added, with a smile, "that is to say, during the time which would have to elapse before the message could reach her, you would be slowly and laboriously50 filing your way to liberty."
Burgo's chest rose and fell. "Miss Roylance, I know not what to say; I feel far more than I am able to convey in words. Such a scheme, if duly carried out, would not merely be the means of bringing my uncle and me together again, but of defeating one of the most abominable51 conspiracies52 that ever was hatched."
"But consider into what a maze53 of duplicity I shall be venturing!" said Miss Roylance with a half-smile. "The message I shall have to ask my friend to send will not have a single word of truth in it."
"In fighting a woman like Lady Clinton one cannot choose one's weapons; one is bound to take the first that comes to hand. If ever a lie was excusable, it is surely in a case like this, where nothing less than the existence of a helpless old man is at stake."
"I would do more, far more than that to save the life of Sir Everard Clinton!" said Dacia, with a thrill in her rich, low tones to which some responsive chord in Burgo vibrated. "But here comes Mrs. Sprowle," she continued, "to tell me that her precious son is about waking up, and that I must not stay a minute longer. I will write to my friend before I sleep, and will post the letter myself before breakfast. The cord and the files I will make into a parcel and send you by Mrs. Sprowle in the course of to-morrow. And now my lamp, if you please, Mr. Brabazon."
"Will you not bring the parcel yourself, Miss Roylance?" asked Burgo, and his voice had a supplicatory54 ring in it, or so it seemed to Dacia.
Her sensitive under-lip trembled for a moment. "Perhaps," she said with a smile such as she had not bestowed55 on Burgo before, and the radiance of which struck him dumb. "But it is never wise to promise more than one is sure of being able to perform."
As she put forth56 her hand for the lamp, Burgo took it in one of his, and bending over it, touched it with his lips. "In any case, God bless you!" he fervently57 exclaimed.
Her only answer, as she turned from him, was the delicate flush which suffused58 alike her throat and face.
He watched her with lingering eyes as she went slowly and carefully down the stairway, the protuberance on her left shoulder throwing a clearly-defined shadow on the whitewashed59 wall; nor did he turn away till the last faint tap-tap of her crutch60 had died in the distance.
"What a pity, what an unspeakable pity it is," he said wit a sigh, "that a creature so incomparable in every other respect should be the victim of a deformity which nothing can remedy or obviate61!"
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1
scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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foretell
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| v.预言，预告，预示 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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procuring
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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nefarious
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| adj.恶毒的，极坏的 | |
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abound
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| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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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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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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fathomless
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| a.深不可测的 | |
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tarn
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| n.山中的小湖或小潭 | |
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expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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prophesy
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| v.预言；预示 | |
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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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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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formulated
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| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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attainment
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| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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euphemism
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| n.婉言，委婉的说法 | |
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32
dilating
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| v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的现在分词 ) | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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45
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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46
vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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47
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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48
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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49
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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50
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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51
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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52
conspiracies
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| n.阴谋，密谋( conspiracy的名词复数 ) | |
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53
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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54
supplicatory
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| adj.恳求的，祈愿的 | |
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55
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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58
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
crutch
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| n.T字形拐杖；支持，依靠，精神支柱 | |
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obviate
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| v.除去，排除，避免，预防 | |
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