Well, he didn’t exactly strike her, Cousin Fridolin believed; though, to be sure, when she first came to the inn, she bore marks of violence. But she cried all day, and she cried all night; and folks fancied in the village it might perhaps be for Will Deverill. At any rate, she and Andreas lost no love between them; man said it was only as a good Catholic she stopped with him.
After breakfast, Franz rose up and walked out on the road aimlessly. Restless still, with the ever-present fear of detection upon him, and with the fiery9 Tyrolese heart eating itself out within, he walked on and on, hardly knowing why he did so. At last he reached Zell, the little capital of the valley. It was early still, for he had started at daybreak; but already a strange group of whispering villagers crowded agog10 round the door of the post-office and telegraph, where the post-master was affixing11 an official notice. Franz joined them, and read. His blood ran cold within him. It was a Kaiserlich-K?niglich police announcement of a public reward of ten thousand florins for information leading to the capture of one Karl von Forstemann of Vienna?—?age, height, and description as below annexed12?—?accused of the murder of Joaquin Holmes, an American citizen, at Monte Carlo, and known to have returned to Austrian territory by Verona and Botzen, where he had altered his clothing, and gone on to Innsbruck.
As Franz read those damning words, he knew in a second all was really up with him. Once they had tracked him so far, they must track him to St Valentin. Again the instinct of his race drove him back towards his native village, after a word or two interchanged with his friends at the post-office. Those simple country souls never dreamt in their hearts of suspecting their old comrade, Franz Lindner the j?ger, who had come back unexpectedly, like Andreas and Linnet, of being the Karl von Forstemann of Vienna referred to in the announcement. But Franz knew it couldn’t be long before the police were on his track; and he turned and fled upwards13 to his old home at St Valentin, like a fox to its lair14, or a rabbit to its burrow15.
All the way up the hill his soul seethed16 within him. He would sell his life dear, if the worst came to the worst; they should fight for it now before ever they took him. He had stopped at a shop at Zell to buy a j?ger’s knife, in place of the one he had left behind him at Monte Carlo, in the card-sharper’s body. He stuck it ostentatiously in the leather belt he had bought at Botzen to complete his costume; as he went on his way, he fingered it ever and anon with affectionate familiarity. Old moods came back to him; with his feather in his hat and his blade by his side, he felt himself once more a true Tyrolese Robbler. The thin veneer17 of Regent Street had dropped off as if by magic; when they wanted to arrest him, they should fight for it first; who would take him, must follow him like a fleet-footed chamois up the rocks behind St Valentin. And whoever came first should receive that good knife, plump, so, in his bosom18, or plunge19 his own, if he could, into Franz’s. He would die like a man with his dagger20 in his hand. No rope or axe21 should ever finish the life of a free mountain j?ger!
Thus thinking to himself, at last he reached the inn. On the threshold, Cousin Fridolin met him, distinctly penitent22. “Andreas knows you’re here, friend Franz,” he said, with a reluctant air. “I didn’t quite tell him, but he guessed it, and wormed it out of me. He’s gone for a walk just now with Linnet?—?she’s grown such a fine lady. But there, I forgot; you’ve seen her in London.”
“Yes; I’ve seen her in London,” Franz answered, half-dreamily, in a musing23 undertone. His voice was as the voice of a condemned24 criminal. He knew he was doomed25. He knew he must die. It might be to-day, or it might be to-morrow; but, sooner or later, he felt sure, the police would be after him.
He stalked moodily26 into the inn, and dropped, tired, into a chair in the parlour bar, with his legs extended straight in front of him in a despondent27 attitude. There he sat and reflected. Cousin Fridolin’s voice ran on, but Franz never heeded28 it. How little it meant to him now, Cousin Fridolin’s chatter29 about Linnet and Andreas! What did he care whether they were rich enough to buy up the whole parish, as Fridolin asserted, and have money left over? In a few short weeks, nothing on earth would make any difference. He gazed at his feet, and knit his brows, and breathed hard. Cousin Fridolin by his side ran on unchecked. Franz answered him nothing.
By-and-by the latch30 lifted?—?and Andreas Hausberger entered, followed close by Linnet.
Andreas gazed at his man angrily. Then he turned round to his wife. “Go to your room, Linnet,” he said, in his stern tone of command. “I must speak with this fellow.”
Linnet, cowed and trembling, slank off without a word. Franz could see she was pale, and had suffered greatly. Her cheeks had fallen in, her colour had flown, her lips were bloodless, her eye had lost its lustre31. Andreas spoke32 to her in an ugly, domineering voice. Franz glared at him in his wrath33. Surely, surely it was high time old scores were wiped out, and this question at least of Linnet’s happiness settled.
He must die himself soon; of that he felt quite sure; ’tis a chance which a Robbler has long been accustomed to keep vividly34 before him. But it would be something at least to feel he didn’t lose his own life in vain; that he was avenging35 himself on Andreas, and freeing Linnet. If guillotined he must be, it was better he should be guillotined for killing36 Andreas Hausberger on a woman’s behalf, than for stabbing a base card-sharper in a drunken brawl37 at Monte Carlo.
In such temper, at last, did Franz Lindner stand up and confront with mortal hate his old unforgiven enemy. Andreas turned to him with a little sneer38. He spoke in English, lest Cousin Fridolin, bustling39 about behind the bar at his business, should overhear him and know what they were saying. “Well, what are you doing here?” he asked, with a contemptuous curl of those cynical40 lips. “Deverill sent you, I suppose. You’ve come all this way to spy upon me and my wife as his flunkey.”
Franz took a step forward, and glared at him fiercely from under his eyebrows41. “I have not, liar,” he answered, his fingers twitching42. “I didn’t know you were here, and I am no man’s flunkey.”
The return to his native air and his native costume, coupled with the gravity and danger of the situation, seemed to have raised him all at once from the music-hall level to the higher and nobler plane of the Tyrolese mountaineer. He looked and moved every inch a freeman?—?nay43, more, he confronted Andreas with such haughty44 self-confidence that his enemy, surprised, drew back half-a-step and surveyed him critically. “That’s a very strange coincidence,” Andreas murmured, after a short pause. “It’s curious you should choose the exact moment to come when I happened to be at St Valentin.”
Franz scowled45 at him yet again. “You can take it how you like,” he retorted, in German, with a toss of the head in his old defiant46 fashion. “If you choose to think I came here to follow you and fight you, you’re at liberty to think so. I’m ready, if you are. I’ve an old cause of quarrel against you, recollect47, Andreas Hausberger. You robbed me by fraud long ago of the woman I loved; you married her by force; and you’ve made her life unhappy. If I dogged you, which I haven’t done, I’d have cause enough and to spare. You remember that first night when I saw you in London, in Mrs Palmer’s box at the Harmony Theatre? Well, if it hadn’t been for the presence of the woman I loved?—?the woman you stole from me?—?that very first night, you false cur, I’d have buried my knife in you.”
Andreas drew back yet another pace. He was taller than Franz, very big and powerful. With a contemptuous look, he measured his enemy from head to foot. “Why, you couldn’t, you fool,” he answered, drawing himself up to his full height. “I never yet was afraid of you or of any man. Many’s the time I’ve turned you, drunk, out of this very room. I’ll turn you out again if you dare to speak so to me!”
He was wearing a Tyrolese hat, just like Franz’s own; he had bought it at Jenbach on his eastward48 route, to return, as was his wont2, at each fresh visit home, to the simplicity49 and freedom of his native mountains. Before Franz’s very eyes he removed it from his head, and, with a sneer on his face, turned the blackcock’s feather Robbler-wise as a challenge of defiance50.
No Robbler on earth could overlook such a wager51 of battle. Trembling with rage, Franz Lindner sprang forth52, and leaped angrily towards him. His face was black as night; his brow was like thunder. He snatched the hat from Andreas’s head with a deft53 flank movement, and tore hastily from its band the offending emblem54.
“Was kost die Feder?” he cried, in a tone of angry contempt, holding it up triumphantly55 before its owner’s eyes. All the west was blotted56 out; Franz Lindner was himself again. He was a Robbler once more, with the hot blood of his Robblerhood boiling fierce within him.
Quick as lightning, the familiar answer rang out in clear tones, “Fünf Finger und ein Griff!” Andreas brooked57 no such insult. “Five fingers and a grip”?—?he should have if he wanted them.
Before Cousin Fridolin had time to understand what was passing before his eyes, or to intervene to prevent it?—?in the twinkle of an eye, with extraordinary rapidity, the two men had closed, hands and arms fast locked, and were grappling with one another in a deadly struggle. Franz flung himself upon his foe58 like a tiger in its fury. One moment, his knife flashed high in air. Cousin Fridolin rushed forward, and strove to tear them asunder59. But, before he could reach them, that gleaming blade had risen above Franz’s head and flashed down again, with unerring aim, on Andreas Hausberger’s bosom. The big man fell back heavily, both hands pressed to his heart, where black blood was oozing60 out in long, deep, thick gurgles.
With a sudden jerk, Franz flung down the knife he had wrenched61 from the wound. It stuck quivering by its point in the wooden flooring. Then he thrust his hands into his pockets, with one foot pushed forward. He clenched62 his teeth, and bent63 his head towards the dying man’s body. “I always meant to kill you,” he cried, in his gratified rage, “and, thank God and all blessed saints, to-day I’ve done it.”
Cousin Fridolin jumped forward, and bent aghast over the body. But Franz stood still, gazing on it calmly. At that moment, the door opened, and Linnet entered.
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收听单词发音
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1
socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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retailed
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| vt.零售（retail的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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surmises
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的第三人称单数 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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agog
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| adj.兴奋的，有强烈兴趣的； adv.渴望地 | |
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affixing
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| v.附加( affix的现在分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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annexed
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| [法] 附加的，附属的 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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burrow
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| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
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seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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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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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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avenging
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| adj.报仇的，复仇的v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的现在分词 )；为…报复 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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brawl
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| n.大声争吵，喧嚷；v.吵架，对骂 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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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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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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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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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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51
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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52
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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54
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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56
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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brooked
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| 容忍，忍受（brook的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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61
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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62
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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