Mr. Detective Strange could not conceal10 from his acute brain that, if this were true, his own case was almost as good as disposed of, and he might prepare to go back to town. Salter, the prey11 he was patiently searching out, was at the Maze or nowhere--for Mr. Strange had turned the rest of the locality inside out, and knew that it contained no trace of him. If the gentleman in the evening dress, seen by Nurse Chaffen, was Sir Karl Andinnian, it could not have been Philip Salter: and, as his sole motive for suspecting the Maze was that worthy12 woman's account of him she had seen, why the grounds of suspicion seemed slipping from under him.
He thought it out well that night. Well and thoroughly13. The tale was certainly likely and plausible14. Sir Karl Andinnian did not appear to be one who would embark15 on this kind of private expedition; but, as the detective said to himself, one could not answer for one's own brother. Put it down as being Sir Karl that the woman saw, why then the mystery of her not having seen him again was at an end: for while she was there Sir Karl would not be likely to go to the Maze and show himself a second time.
The more Mr. Strange thought it out, the further reason he found for suspecting that this must be the true state of the case. It did not please him. Clear the Maze of all suspicion as to Salter, and it would become evident that they had been misled, and that so much valuable time had been wasted. He should have to go back to Scotland Yard and report the failure. Considering that he had latterly been furnishing reports of the prey being found and as good as in his hands, the prospect16 was mortifying17. This would be the second consecutive18 case in which he had signally failed.
But it was by no means Mr. Strange's intention to take the failure for granted. He was too wary19 a detective to do that without seeking for proof, and he had not done with Foxwood yet. The first person he must see was Mrs. Chaffen.
Somewhat weary with his night reflections and not feeling quite so refreshed as he ought, for the thing had kept him awake till morning, Mr. Strange sat down to his breakfast languidly. Watchful20 Mrs. Jinks, who patronized her easy lodger21 and was allowed to visit his tea, and sugar, and butter, and cheese with impunity22, observed this as she whipped off the cover from a dish of mushrooms that looked as though it might tempt23 an anchorite.
"You've got a headache this morning, Mr. Strange, sir. Is it bad?"
"Oh, very bad," said Mr. Strange, who did not forget to keep up his r?le of delicate health as occasion afforded opportunity.
"What things them headaches are!" deplored24 Mrs. Jinks. "Nobody knows whence they come nor how to drive 'em away. Betsey Chaffen was nursing a patient in the spring, who'd had bilious25 fever and rheumatis combined; and to hear what she said about that poor dear old gentleman's head----"
"By the way, how is Mrs. Chaffen?" interrupted Mr. Strange, with scant26 ceremony, and no regard to the old gentleman's head. "I have not seen her lately."
"She was here a day or two ago, sir; down in my kitchen. As to how she is, she's as strong as need be: which it's thanks to you for inquiring. She never has nothing the matter with her."
"Is she out nursing?"
"Not now. She expects to be called out soon, and is waiting at home for it."
"Where is her home?"
"Down Foxglove Lane, sir, turning off by Mr. Sumnor's church. Bull, the stonemason, lives in the end house there, and she have lodged27 with 'em for years. Bull tells her in joke sometimes that some of 'em ought to be took ill, with such a nurse as her in the house. Which they never are, for it's as healthy a spot as any in Foxwood."
Mr. Strange had a knack28 of politely putting an end to his landlady's gossip when he pleased, and of sending her away. He did so now: and the widow transferred herself and her attentions to Mr. Cattacomb's parlour.
People must hold spring and autumn cleanings, or where would their carpets and curtains bel Mrs. Chaffen, though occupying but one humble29 room (with a choice piece of furniture in it that was called a "bureau" by day, and was a bed by night) was not exempt30 from the general sanitary31 obligations. Mrs. Bull considered that she instituted these periodical bouts32 of scrubbing oftener than there was occasion for: but Betsey Chaffen liked to take care of her furniture--which was her own--and was moreover a cleanly woman.
On this self-same morning she was in the thick of it: her gown turned up about her waist, her hands and arms bare to the elbow, plunged33 into a bucket of soapsuds, herself on her knees, and the furniture all heaped together on the top of the shut-up bureau in the corner, when one of the young Bulls came in with the astounding34 news that a gentleman was asking for her.
"Goodness bless me!" cried the poor woman, turning cold all over, "it can't be that I'm fetched out, can it, Sam?--and me just in the middle of all this mess!"
"He said, was Mrs. Chaffen at home, and could he see her," replied Sam. "He's a waiting outside:"
Mrs. Chaffen sat back on her heels, one hand resting on the bucket, the other grasping the wet scrubbing-brush, and her face the very picture of consternation35 as she stared at the boy. She had believed herself free for a full week to come.
"Is it Mr. Henley himself, Sam?"
"It ain't Mr. Henley at all," said Sam. "It's the gentleman what's staying at Mrs. Jinks's."
"What the plague brings him here this morning of all others, when I've got the floor in a sop36 and not a chair to ask him to set down upon!" cried the woman, relieved of her great fear, but vexed37 nevertheless to be interrupted in her work, and believing the intruder to be Mr. Cattacomb, come on one of his pastoral visits: for that excellent divine made no scruple38, in his zeal39, of looking in occasionally on Mr. Sumnor's flock as well as his own. "Parsons be frightful40 bothers sometimes!"
"'Tain't the parson; it's the t'other one?" said Sam Bull.
Mrs. Chaffen rose from her knees, stepped gingerly across the wet floor, and took a peep through the window. There she saw Mr. Strange in the centre of a tribe of young Bulls, dividing among them a piece of lettered gingerbread. Sam, afraid of not coming in for his share of the letters, bolted out of the room.
"Ask the gentleman if he'll be pleased to step in, Sam, and to excuse the litter," she called after the boy. "I don't mind him," she mentally added, seizing upon a mop to mop the wet off the floor, and then letting down her gown, "and he must want something particular of me; but I'd not have cared to stand Cattakin's preaching this busy morning."
Mr. Strange came in in his pleasant way, admiring everything, from the room to the bucket, and assuring her he rather preferred wet floors to dry ones. While she was reaching him a chair and dusting it with her damp apron41, he held out his hand, pointing to where the cuts had been.
"Look here, Mrs. Chaffen. I have been thinking of coming to you this day or two past, but fancied I might see you in Paradise Row, for I'd rather have your opinion than a doctor's at any time. The hand has healed, you see."
"Yes, sir; it looks beautiful."
"But I am not sure that it has healed properly, though it may look 'beautiful,'" he rejoined. "Feel this middle cut. Here; just on the seam."
Mrs. Chaffen rubbed her fingers on the same check apron, and then passed them gently over the place he spoke42 of. "What do you feel?" he asked.
"Well, sir, it feels a little hard, and there seems to be a kind of knot," she said, still examining the place.
"Precisely43 so. There's a stiffness about it that I don't altogether like, and now and then it has a kind of a prickly sensation. What I have been fancying is, that a bit of glass may possibly be in it still."
But Mrs. Chaffen did not think so. In her professional capacity she talked nearly as learnedly as a doctor could have talked, though not using quite the same words. Her opinion was that if glass had remained in the hand it would not have healed: she believed that Mr. Strange had only to let it alone and have a little patience, and the symptoms he spoke of would go away.
It is not at all improbable that this opinion was Mr. Strange's own; but he thanked her and said he would abide44 by her advice, and gave her a little more gentle flattery. Then he sat down in the chair she had dusted, as if he meant to remain for the day, in spite of the disorder45 of affairs and the damp floor, and entered on a course of indiscriminate gossip. Mrs. Chaffen liked to get on quickly with her work, but she liked gossip better; no matter how busy she might be, a dish of that never came amiss; and she put her back against another chair and folded her bare arms in her apron, and gossiped back again.
In a smooth and natural manner, apparently46 without intent, the conversation presently turned upon the gentleman (or ghost) Mrs. Chaffen had seen at the Maze. It was a theme she had not tired of yet.
"Now you come to talk of that," cried the detective, "do you know what idea has occurred to me upon the point, Mrs. Chaffen? I think the gentleman you saw may have been Sir Karl Andinnian."
Nurse Chaffen, contrary to her usual habit, did not immediately reply, but seemed to fall into thought.
"Was it Sir Karl?"
"Well now that's a odd thing!" she broke forth47 at last. "Miss Blake asked me the very same question, sir--was it Sir Karl Andinnian?"
"Oh, did she. When?"
"When we had been talking of the thing in your rooms, sir--that time that I had been a dressing48 of your hand. In going down stairs, somebody pulled me, all mysterious like, into the Reverend Cattakin's parlour: I found it was Miss Blake, and she began asking me what the gentleman looked like and whether it was not Sir Karl."
"And was it Sir Karl?"
"Being took by surprise in that way," went on Mrs. Chaffen, disregarding the question, "I answered Miss Blake that I had not had enough time to notice the gentleman and could not say whether he was like Sir Karl or not. Not having reflected upon it then, I spoke promiscuous49, you see sir, on the spur of the moment."
"And was it Sir Karl?" repeated Mr. Strange. "Now that you have had time to reflect upon it, is that the conclusion you come to?"
"No, sir; just the opposite. A minute or two afterwards, if I'd only waited, I could have told Miss Blake that it was not Sir Karl. I couldn't say who it was, but 'twas not him."
This assertion was so contrary to the theory Mr. Strange had been privately50 establishing that it took him somewhat by surprise.
"Why are you enabled to say surely it was not Sir Karl?" he questioned, laughing lightly, as if the matter amused him.
"Because, sir, the gentleman was taller than Sir Karl. And, when I came to think of it, I distinctly saw that he had short hair, either lightish or grayish: Sir Karl's hair is a beautiful wavy52 brown, and he wears it rather long."
"Twilight53 is very deceptive," remarked Mr. Strange.
"No doubt of that, sir: but there was enough light coming in through the passage windows for me to see what I have said. I am quite positive it was not Sir Karl Andinnian."
"Would you swear it was not?"
"No, sir, I'd not swear it: swearing's a ticklish54 thing: but I am none the less sure. Mr. Strange, it was not Sir Karl for certain," she added impressively. "The gentleman was taller than Sir Karl and had a bigger kind of figure, broader shoulders like, and it rather struck me at the time that he limped in his walk. That I couldn't hold to, however."
"Just the description of what Salter would most likely be now," mused51 the detective, his doubts veering55 about uncomfortably. "He would have a limp, or something worse, after that escapade out of the railway carriage."
"Well, if you are so sure about it, Mrs. Chaffen, I suppose it could not have been Sir Karl."
"I can trust my sight, sir, and I am sure. What ever could have give rise to the thought that it was Sir Karl?" continued she, after a moment's pause.
"Why, you must know, Mrs. Chaffen, that Sir Karl Andinnian is the only man in Foxwood who is likely to put on evening dress as a rule. And being a neighbour of Mrs. Grey's and her landlord also, it was not so very improbable he should have called in, don't you see?"
Thus enlightened, Mrs. Chaffen no longer wondered how the surmise56 had arisen. She reiterated57 her assertion that it was not Sir Karl; and Mr. Strange, gliding58 into the important question of soda59 for cleaning boards, versus60 soap, presently took an affable leave.
There he was, walking back again, his thoughts almost as uncertain as the wind. Was Miss Blake's theory right, or was this woman's? If the latter, and the man was in truth such as she described him, taller and broader than Sir Karl, why then he could, after all, have staked his life upon the Maze being Salter's place of concealment61. What if both were right? It might be. Sir Karl might be paying these stealthy visits to Mrs. Grey, and yet be totally ignorant that any such person as Salter was at the Maze. They would hardly dare to tell him; and Salter would take care to conceal himself when Sir Karl was there. At any rate, he--Mr. Strange--must try and put the matter to rest with all speed, one way or the other. Perhaps, however, that resolution was more easy to make than to carry out. As a preliminary step he took a walk to the police station at Basham, and was seen in the street there by Sir Karl Andinnian.
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1
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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4
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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6
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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7
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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8
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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11
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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12
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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13
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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14
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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15
embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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17
mortifying
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| adj.抑制的，苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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impunity
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| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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deplored
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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27
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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28
knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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sanitary
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| adj.卫生方面的，卫生的，清洁的，卫生的 | |
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32
bouts
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| n.拳击（或摔跤）比赛( bout的名词复数 )；一段（工作）；（尤指坏事的）一通；（疾病的）发作 | |
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33
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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34
astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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35
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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sop
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| n.湿透的东西，懦夫；v.浸，泡，浸湿 | |
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37
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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38
scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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40
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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42
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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43
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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44
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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45
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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46
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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48
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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49
promiscuous
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| adj.杂乱的，随便的 | |
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50
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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51
mused
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| 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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52
wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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53
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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54
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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55
veering
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| n.改变的；犹豫的；顺时针方向转向；特指使船尾转向上风来改变航向v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的现在分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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56
surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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57
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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59
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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60
versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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61
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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