So Nevitt held his peace discreetly5, like a wise man that he was, and answered merely, in a most submissive voice, “I’ll do my best to ascertain7 where they bank, at once,” as if he had never before in his life heard the name of Waring.
For the self-same reason, Mr. Montague Nevitt didn’t hint that evening to Guy that he had become possessed8 during the course of the day of a secret of the first importance to Guy’s fortune and future. Of course, a man so astute10 as Montague Nevitt jumped at once at the correct conclusion, that Colonel Kelmscott must be the two Warings’ father. But he wasn’t going to be fool enough to chuck his chance away by sharing that information with any second person. A secret is far too valuable a lever in life to be carelessly flung aside by a man of ambition. And Montague Nevitt saw this secret in particular was doubly valuable to him. He could use it, wedge-wise, with both the Warings in all his future dealings, by promising11 to reveal to one or other of them a matter of importance and probable money-value, and he could use it also as a perpetual threat to hold over Colonel Kelmscott, if ever it should be needful to extort12 blackmail13 from the possessor of Tilgate, or to thwart14 his schemes by some active interference.
So when Nevitt strolled round about nine o’clock that night to Staple15 Inn, violin-case in hand, and cigarette in mouth, he gave not a sign of the curious information he had that day acquired, to the person most interested in learning the truth as to the precise genealogy16 of the Waring family.
There was no great underlying17 community of interests between the clever young journalist and his banking18 companion. A common love for music was the main bond of union between the two men. Yet Montague Nevitt exercised over Guy a strange and fatal fascination19 which Cyril always found positively20 unaccountable. And on this particular evening, as Nevitt stood swaying himself to and fro upon the hearth-rug before the empty grate, with his eyes half closed, drawing low, weird21 music with his enchanted22 bow from those submissive strings23, Guy leaned back on the sofa and listened, entranced, with a hopeless feeling of utter inability ever to approach the wizard-like and supreme24 execution of that masterly hand and those superhuman fingers. How he twisted and turned them as though his bones were india-rubber. His palms were all joints25, and his eyes all ecstasy26. He seemed able to do what he liked with his violin. He played on his instrument, indeed, as he played on Guy—with the consummate27 art of a skilful28 executant.
“That’s marvellous, Nevitt,” Guy broke out at last; “never heard even Sarasate himself do anything quite so wild and weird as that. What’s the piece called? It seems to have something almost impish or sprite-like in its wailing29 music. It’s Hungarian, of course, or Polish or Greek; I detect at once the Oriental tinge30 in it.”
“Wrong for once, my dear boy,” Nevitt answered, smiling, “it’s English, pure English, and by a lady what’s more—one of the Eweses of Kenilworth. She’s a distant relation of Cyril’s Miss Clifford, I believe. An Elma, too; name runs in the family. But she composes wonderfully. Everything she writes is in that mystic key. It sounds like a reminiscence of some dim and lamp-lit eastern temple. The sort of thing a nautch-girl might be supposed to compose, to sing to the clash and clang of cymbals31, while she was performing the snake-dance before some Juggernaut idol32!”
“Exactly,” Guy answered, shutting his eyes dreamily. “That’s just the very picture it brings up before my mind’s eye—as you render it, Nevitt. I seem to see vague visions of some vast and dimly-lighted rock-hewn cavern33, with long vistas34 of pillars cut from the solid stone, while dark-limbed priestesses, clad in white muslin robes, swing censers in the foreground to solemn music. Upon my word, the power of sound is something simply wonderful. There’s almost nothing, I believe, good music wouldn’t drive me to—or rather lead me to; for it sways one and guides even more than it impels35 one.”
“And yet,” Nevitt mused36, in slow tones to himself, taking up his violin again, and drawing his bow over the chords, with half-closed eyes, in a seemingly listless, aimless manner, “I don’t believe music’s your real first love, Guy. You took it up only to be different from Cyril. The artistic37 impulse in both of you is the same at bottom. If you’d let it have it’s own way, you’d have taken, not to this, I’m sure, but to painting. But Cyril painted, so, to make yourself different, you went in for music. That’s you all over! You always have such a hankering after being what you are not!”
“Well, hang it all, a man wants to have SOME individuality,” Guy answered apologetically. “He doesn’t like to be a mere6 copy or repetition of his brother.”
Nevitt reflected quietly to himself that Cyril never wanted to be different from Guy, his was by far the stronger nature of the two: he was content to be himself without regard to his brother. But Nevitt didn’t say so. Indeed, why should he? He merely went on playing a few disconnected bars of a very lively, hopeful utopian sort of a tune9—a tune all youth and health, and go and gaiety—as he interjected from time to time some brief financial remarks on the numerous good strokes he’d pulled off of late in his transactions in the City.
“Can’t do them in my own name, you know,” he observed lightly, at last laying down his bow, and replacing the dainty white rose in his left top buttonhole. “Not official for a bank EMPLOYE to operate on the Stock Exchange. The chiefs object to it. So I do my little ventures in Tom’s name instead, my brother-in-law, Tom Whitley’s. Those Cedulas went up another eighth yesterday. Well hit again: I’m always lucky. And that was a good thing I put you on last week, too, wasn’t it? Did you sell out to-day? They’re up at 96, and you bought in at 80.”
“No, I didn’t sell to-day,” Guy answered, with a yawn. “I’m holding on still for a further rise. I thought I’d sell out when they reached the even hundred.”
“My dear fellow, you’re wrong,” Nevitt put in eagerly. “You ought to have sold to-day. It’s the top of the market. They’ll begin to decline soon, and when once they begin they’ll come down with a crash, as P.L.‘s did on Saturday. You take my advice and sell out first thing to-morrow morning. You’ll clear sixteen pounds on each of your shares. That’s enough for any man. You bought ten shares, I think, didn’t you? Well, there you are, you see; a hundred and sixty off-hand for you on your bargain.”
Guy paused and reflected a doubtful moment. “Yes, I’ll sell out to-morrow, Nevitt,” he said, after a struggle, “or what comes to the same thing, you can sell out for me. But, do you know, my dear fellow, I sometimes fancy I’m a fool for my pains, going in for all this silly speculation38. Better stick to my guinea a column in the Morning Mail. The risks are so great, and the gains so small. I don’t believe outsiders ought to back their luck at all like this on the Stock Exchange.”
Montague Nevitt acquiesced39 with cheerful promptitude. “I agree with you down to the ground,” he said, lighting40 a cigarette, and puffing42 away at it vigorously. “Outsiders ought not to back their luck on the Stock Exchange. That, I take it, is a self-evident proposition. But the point is, here, that you’re not an outsider; and you don’t back your luck, which alters the case, you’ll admit, somewhat. You embark43 on speculations44 on my advice only, and I’m in a position to judge, as well as any other expert in the City of London, what things are genuine and what things are not worth a wise man’s attention.”
He stretched himself on the sofa with a lazy, luxurious45 air, and continued to puff41 away in silence at his cigarette for another ten minutes. Then he drew unostentatiously from his pocket a folded sheet of foolscap paper, printed after the fashion of the common company prospectus46. For a second or two he read it over to himself in silence, till Guy’s curiosity was sufficiently47 roused by his mute proceeding48.
“What have you got there?” the journalist asked at last, eyeing it inquiringly, as the fly eyes the cobweb.
“Oh, nothing,” Nevitt answered, folding the paper up neatly49 and returning it to his pocket. “You’ve sworn off now, so it does not concern you. Just the prospectus of a little fresh thing coming out next week—a very exceptional chance—but you don’t want to go in for it. I mean to apply for three hundred shares myself, I’m so certain of its success; and I had thought of advising you to take a hundred and fifty on your own account as well, with that hundred and fifty you cleared over the Cordova Cattle bonds. They’re ten-pound shares, at a merely nominal50 price—ten bob on application and ten on allotment—you could take a hundred and fifty as easy as look at it. No further calls will ever be made. It’s really a most remarkable51 investment.”
“Let me see the prospectus,” Guy murmured, faltering53, the fever of speculation once more getting the better of him.
Nevitt pretended to hang back like a man with fine scruples54. “It’s the Rio Negro Diamond and Sapphire55 Mine, Limited,” he said, with a deprecatory air. “But you’d better not go in for it. I expect to make a pot out of the thing myself. It’s a unique occasion. Still, no doubt you’re right, and I don’t like the responsibility of advising any other fellow. Though you can see for yourself what the promoters say. Very first-class names. And Klink thinks most highly of it.”
He handed Guy the paper, and took up his violin as if by pure accident, while Guy scanned it closely.
The journalist bent56 over the prospectus with eager eyes, and Nevitt poured forth57 strange music as he read, music like the murmur52 of the stream of Pactolus. It was an inspiring strain; the violin seemed to possess the true Midas touch; gold flowed like water in liquid rills from its catgut. Guy finished, and rose, and dipped a pen in the ink-pot. “All right,” he said low, half hesitating still. “I’ll give you an order to sell out at once, and I’ll fill up this application for three hundred shares—why not three hundred? I may as well go as many as you do. If it’s really such a good thing as you say, why shouldn’t I profit by it? Send this to Klink to-morrow early; strike while the iron’s hot, and get the thing finished.”
Nevitt looked at the paper with an attentive58 eye. “How curious it is,” he said, regarding the signature narrowly, “that you and Cyril, who are so much alike in everything else, should write so differently. I should have expected your hands to be almost identical.”
“Oh, don’t you know why that is?” Guy answered, with an innocent smile. “I do it on purpose. Cyril writes sloping forward, the ordinary way, so I slope backward just to prevent confusion. And I form all my letters as unlike his as I can, though if I follow my own bent they turn out the same; his way is more natural to me, in fact, than the way I write myself. But I must do something to keep our letters apart. That’s why we always bank at a different banker’s. If I liked I could write exactly like Cyril. See, here’s his own signature to his letter this morning, and here’s my imitation of it, written off-hand, in my own natural manner. No forger59 on earth could ever need anything more absolutely identical.”
Montague Nevitt took it up, and examined it with interest. “Well, this is wonderful,” he said, comparing the two, stroke for stroke, with the practised eye of an expert. “The signatures are as if written by the self-same hand. Any cashier in England would accept your cheque at sight for Cyril’s.”
He didn’t add aloud that such similarity was very convenient. But, none the less, in his own mind he thought so.
点击收听单词发音
1 casually | |
adv.漠不关心地,无动于衷地,不负责任地 | |
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2 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
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3 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
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4 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
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5 discreetly | |
ad.(言行)审慎地,慎重地 | |
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6 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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7 ascertain | |
vt.发现,确定,查明,弄清 | |
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8 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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9 tune | |
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
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10 astute | |
adj.机敏的,精明的 | |
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11 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
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12 extort | |
v.勒索,敲诈,强要 | |
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13 blackmail | |
n.讹诈,敲诈,勒索,胁迫,恫吓 | |
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14 thwart | |
v.阻挠,妨碍,反对;adj.横(断的) | |
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15 staple | |
n.主要产物,常用品,主要要素,原料,订书钉,钩环;adj.主要的,重要的;vt.分类 | |
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16 genealogy | |
n.家系,宗谱 | |
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17 underlying | |
adj.在下面的,含蓄的,潜在的 | |
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18 banking | |
n.银行业,银行学,金融业 | |
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19 fascination | |
n.令人着迷的事物,魅力,迷恋 | |
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20 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
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21 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
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22 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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23 strings | |
n.弦 | |
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24 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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25 joints | |
接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语) | |
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26 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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27 consummate | |
adj.完美的;v.成婚;使完美 [反]baffle | |
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28 skilful | |
(=skillful)adj.灵巧的,熟练的 | |
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29 wailing | |
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的现在分词 );沱 | |
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30 tinge | |
vt.(较淡)着色于,染色;使带有…气息;n.淡淡色彩,些微的气息 | |
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31 cymbals | |
pl.铙钹 | |
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32 idol | |
n.偶像,红人,宠儿 | |
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33 cavern | |
n.洞穴,大山洞 | |
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34 vistas | |
长条形景色( vista的名词复数 ); 回顾; 展望; (未来可能发生的)一系列情景 | |
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35 impels | |
v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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36 mused | |
v.沉思,冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 );沉思自语说(某事) | |
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37 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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38 speculation | |
n.思索,沉思;猜测;投机 | |
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39 acquiesced | |
v.默认,默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40 lighting | |
n.照明,光线的明暗,舞台灯光 | |
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41 puff | |
n.一口(气);一阵(风);v.喷气,喘气 | |
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42 puffing | |
v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 );喷着汽(或烟)移动;吹嘘;吹捧 | |
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43 embark | |
vi.乘船,着手,从事,上飞机 | |
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44 speculations | |
n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 );思考;投机活动;推断 | |
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45 luxurious | |
adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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46 prospectus | |
n.计划书;说明书;慕股书 | |
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47 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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48 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
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49 neatly | |
adv.整洁地,干净地,灵巧地,熟练地 | |
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50 nominal | |
adj.名义上的;(金额、租金)微不足道的 | |
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51 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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52 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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53 faltering | |
犹豫的,支吾的,蹒跚的 | |
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54 scruples | |
n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 );顾虑,顾忌v.感到于心不安,有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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55 sapphire | |
n.青玉,蓝宝石;adj.天蓝色的 | |
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56 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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57 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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58 attentive | |
adj.注意的,专心的;关心(别人)的,殷勤的 | |
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59 forger | |
v.伪造;n.(钱、文件等的)伪造者 | |
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