“Ay, ay,” said Mr. Bradbury, “I had some notion of them,—by the old man’s talk this night. Where are they hid?”
I dragged the hangings back. I took the key, unlocked the iron door, and drew the box out of its hiding place. “Pray take my pistol, sir,” said I. “The box is heavy—bursting with the jewels in it. I’ve never looked upon such p. 280jewels—like fire! My uncle will not rest till he’s laid hands on them.”
Mr. Bradbury took my pistol; he paused an instant to pull back the curtains from the bed, and reverently6 draw the coverlet over the old man’s body. Blowing out all the candles then, save one to light us down the stair, he went before me from the room, pausing to lock the door upon the dead; and cried out to Roger and the runners, still searching for old Mag along the corridors, to go with us down the stairs. As we descended7, I heard voices muttering in the hall; and saw the gleam of lanterns, and made out it might be half-a-dozen stout8 fellows. I saw, as we passed by them, that every man was armed with cutlass, pistol or bludgeon. Sir Gavin Masters, emerging from the doorway9, cried out jovially10, “Ah, John Craike! So your throat’s not cut yet, and ye’re not kidnapped. Where’s the old man, Bradbury? The devil of a time you’ve been!”
“Pray step with us into the dining-room, Sir Gavin,” said Mr. Bradbury. “Old Mr. Craike is dead—an hour or more since!”
“Murdered!” the justice roared.
“Nay, nay—though there’s been wild doings here this night,” said Mr. Bradbury. “The rats are scuttling11 all about the house.”
p. 281“Ay, I’ve heard them scurrying12, squeaking13. Have we men enough with us to trap ’em, Bradbury?”
“I think not—no!” said Mr. Bradbury hastily. “Pray, sir, come with us. Bid your men keep on guard still, and let no one enter! Come, sir, come!”
But I hung back and called out, “Sir Gavin—Mr. Bradbury, there’s the girl—my uncle’s ward14, Miss Milne! What’s chanced to her I fear to think.”
“Oh, the maid,” Sir Gavin answered, laughing. “She’s safe enough. ’Twas she opened the door for us, when we were thinking to break it down. She’s safe. She’s in the room here!”
Thus reassured15, I passed with them into the dining-room. Lord, the reek16 of drink, and the disorder17 of it!—the presses open and broken, for the plate they held; the shattered glass and crystal on floor and table; bottles from the broached18 cellars. The silver candlesticks were gone from the chimney-piece; the mirrors starred or shivered wholly; the tapestries19 rent from the wall; the pictures torn down, as if the rogues had searched even behind them for any sign of treasure. By the hearth20, where a few coals blackened, Evelyn Milne was sitting; the candle borne by Mr. Bradbury showed me how p. 282deathly pale she was, her hair blown all about her shoulders, her eyes feverish21 yet from terror and lack of sleep. She started up, as we came in; I set the box down on the table, and took her hands, and cried out, “Miss Milne! Thank God, you’re safe!”
“Ay, ay, and have served us well this night,” Mr. Bradbury declared; and Sir Gavin added gallantly22, “Upon my soul she has!”
She smiled, and drew her hands from mine; looking at Mr. Bradbury, she asked, “Would you have me go, sir? Would you be alone?”
“Nay, nay,” said he, hastily. “Stay here, my dear! The house is not yet safe for you. Stay here!”
She bowed and returned to her seat. Mr. Bradbury, setting down the candle by the box, drew up a chair to the table, and dropping wearily into it, said, “Sir Gavin, with the few fellows you’ve been able to bring here, it’s well that we remain here till the dawn; it cannot be far off.”
“Ay, but all these rogues?” the justice grumbled23. “Not a rat among them have we trapped. I thought to take the nest full of them. What’s chanced to the old man? What passed to-night ere we came, young John? Where’s the villain24, Charles?”
p. 283“We’ll have the tale from Mr. John Craike later,” said Mr. Bradbury impatiently. “Old Mr. Craike was near to death when I left him, and he died to-night. I know not whether Charles Craike is yet in the house, or whether he’s gone sneaking25 away, as I take it all the old rogues have by now. Nay, Sir Gavin, I am troubled more by the coming of the woman Baynes but now, and the word she brought Charles Craike from the Stone House, and the effect of her tidings on him!”
“What of the hag?” Sir Gavin muttered. “What’s all this, Bradbury?”
“She brought this message from Martin Baynes: ‘Adam Baynes’ come home again!’—and Charles went grey with terror.”
“Adam Baynes! Old Mag’s son,” said the justice. “Shipped overseas ten years or so since, with Captain Phillip from Portsmouth for Botany Bay. How should the rogue2 have ever come back from New South Wales? He went overseas for life.”
Mr. Bradbury rose swiftly, and, hurrying to the door, called, “Roger Galt! Come here! And bring a lantern! We need more light.”
Roger Galt came slowly and unwillingly26 into the room, and stood blinking before us, watching Sir Gavin apprehensively27.
p. 284“You dog!” growled28 the justice. “I’ve sworn to clap you in gaol29 till you’re hanged. But for this night’s work—”
“For this night’s work, Sir Gavin would tell you, Galt,” Mr. Bradbury interrupted with impatience30, “that all will be forgotten. Don’t interrupt me, pray, Sir Gavin—that is your meaning. Galt, a while since you said that Adam Baynes was never shipped overseas; that actually he remained in England; and that he died from a bullet in some highway robbery.”
“That’s so, master,” Roger muttered, glancing round at the door, as if prepared to break away from the justice and possible custody31 at any moment.
“What more do you know of this, Galt?” Mr. Bradbury persisted. “How should this rogue, sentenced to transportation, have been free in England? Did he escape and return, or did he never sail?”
“He never sailed,” vowed32 Roger. “Guineas went to get him out of the hands of them as was taking him to Portsmouth to put him aboard.”
“He escaped, and no search was ever made for him?” cried Mr. Bradbury. “Do you expect us to believe that, Roger Galt? Why, man, it’s unbelievable!”
Galt muttered, “I’ve heard tell—Mother Mag’s p. 285cackled over it when in drink—another was put aboard in his place; another went overseas as Adam Baynes—someone they wanted to get out of England.”
“How long,” asked Mr. Bradbury, “since Captain Phillip sailed?”
“Ten years since, to my thinking,” the justice answered reflectively.
“Ten years since!” repeated Mr. Bradbury; and, as understanding of his theory came upon me, I gasped33, and stared wildly at him,—he cried out sharply, “Sir Gavin! Bid a couple of fellows go with my men from Bow Street, and seek Charles Craike. His rooms are immediately above us! Bid them seek him there, and, if he have not fled yet, bring him here! That will do, Galt. Go!”
I caught at Mr. Bradbury’s arm, and would have sought an answer of him to my thoughts and terrors; he did not heed34 me, but, speaking swiftly and with agitation35 growing upon him, he burst out, “Sir Gavin, at whatever risk of falling in with Blunt’s men, and being worsted by them and the rogues of this place and the Stone House—for surely they’ve all gone scurrying for the Stone House this night—we must ride for the Stone House. I’ve sent for Charles Craike here, to question him; for surely he’ll lie to us—and to p. 286delay him, if he think to go thither36 this night. For, ten years since, Mr. Richard Craike disappeared from home and wife and son in London; and for ten years has not been heard of. If, Sir Gavin, it should be—it is the wildest fancy—that Richard Craike went overseas in place of Adam Baynes? If this should be?”
“Bradbury—surely!” gasped Sir Gavin. “It could not be!”
“Ay, ay; but if it should be, and if Richard Craike’s escaped—come home to England; if Richard Craike was on his road to Craike House yesterday; and Martin Baynes, Blunt’s men—came upon him? For, surely, Richard Craike coming home, and seeking wife and son in London, and finding no trace of them, would hurry hither. And if Richard Craike’s again in the hands of his enemies at the Stone House?”
“If! If!” cried the justice. “The maddest of fancies, Bradbury!”
“No! For the woman comes in the night to Charles Craike. And the woman says ‘Adam Baynes’ come home again!’ And Charles Craike—looks like death—at the very words!”
“I would,” growled Sir Gavin, “that I’d more men with me. It’s damnably unfortunate, Bradbury, that the coastguard should be held to the shore to-night, while that young p. 287whipper-snapper of a lieutenant—Abbott—seeks to cut out Blunt’s brig in the dark.”
“Whatever be the peril,” Mr. Bradbury declared, “we needs must ride for the Stone House this night. For I tell you that, if this be Richard Craike, and he be in the hands of Martin Baynes and the rogues whom we’ve beaten at their game to-night, he is in peril—peril of death.”
“Ay, but you’ll hear Charles—if he’s not gone,” Sir Gavin muttered, rising. “I hear them coming down the stair.”
My uncle had not fled the house, but he was dressed for riding—booted and spurred. He came in with his hat pressed down upon his brows, a hunting crop in his right hand, his left thrust deeply into his greatcoat pocket. He was livid yet; his face wore the cruel and implacable aspect he had shown when first I looked upon him from the window of the Stone House, and I had known that none whom he feared or hated might look for mercy from him. He strode in boldly, the fellows who had brought him down to us hung doubtfully in the doorway—standing back at a wave of Sir Gavin’s hand. He looked upon me, and the hate he showed struck me with terror; his gaze passed from me to Mr. Bradbury and Sir Gavin—to the black box lying on the table by them, with the light of candle and lamp p. 288playing upon its silver mountings. He said angrily, “What’s this, Bradbury? Why have you sent your rogues breaking into my room, Masters? Would you lay me by the heels for a thief?”
“I would—ay, surely I would!” roared Sir Gavin, starting to his feet, and pushing forward; at Mr. Bradbury’s plucking at his sleeve, he growled, purple with choler, “Ay, ay, by the Lord, if I had my way. As I will!”
“We sent for you, Charles Craike,” said Mr. Bradbury swiftly, “to ask these questions of you: This man Adam Baynes—who is he? Has he risen from the dead? Or has one come back in place of Adam Baynes? Charles Craike, should not this man—of whose arrival you were warned this night—whom we think held a prisoner at the Stone House, as the lad was held by you, prove to be Richard Craike—your brother?”
My uncle answered instantly, “Bradbury, you had my answer in my father’s hearing—that I’ve no knowledge of my brother—of his death, his disappearance37, or his flight from England. The message of that hag conveyed to me no more than that her son is back again from transportation.”
“Galt says the fellow died in England years since!” Sir Gavin growled.
p. 289“Galt is a liar38 and rogue, whom you, Sir Gavin, were you an active justice, would have clapped in gaol long since.”
“Charles Craike,” said Mr. Bradbury, seeking to restrain Sir Gavin, “you wear a brave face and use a bold tone to us for all your villainy. Whither would you ride this night?”
“Whither should I ride,” my uncle cried, “than away from this house—for London? Knowing that the boy has all—damn him!—has all that should be mine”—and still he stared at the black box lying on the table.
“You do not think to ride to London,” said Mr. Bradbury. “You think to ride to the Stone House to-night. You shall not leave the house! Sir Gavin, give orders to your men! Bid them hold the door!”
I saw my uncle leap forward; the pistol gleam in his hand; his hunting crop swing high—Sir Gavin roaring out as the two old gentlemen recoiled39 from, him, “Galt! Any of you! Seize him!”
But the hunting crop smote40 down upon the lantern and the candle; instantly the room was dark; all was a confusion of rushing, struggling figures. I leaped towards the box, but was thrown back by a plunging41 body, and went headlong to the floor. Sir Gavin was roaring, p. 290“Hold the door! Don’t let him go! Light! You dolts42! Light!”—And I, rolling on the floor, squealed43 out, “The box! Look to the box! Sir Gavin, Mr. Bradbury!”
A roar of voices; a smash of glass from the window; lanterns flashing in at the door. As dazed I rose to my feet, I saw that my uncle and the box of gems were gone.
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1
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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2
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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3
rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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4
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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5
gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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6
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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9
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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jovially
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| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
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11
scuttling
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| n.船底穿孔，打开通海阀（沉船用）v.使船沉没( scuttle的现在分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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12
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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13
squeaking
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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14
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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15
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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16
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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18
broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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19
tapestries
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| n.挂毯( tapestry的名词复数 )；绣帷，织锦v.用挂毯（或绣帷）装饰( tapestry的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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23
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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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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26
unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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28
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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31
custody
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| n.监护，照看，羁押，拘留 | |
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32
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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34
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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35
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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36
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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38
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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39
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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40
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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41
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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42
dolts
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| n.笨蛋，傻瓜( dolt的名词复数 ) | |
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43
squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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