Ere we dared leave Craike House, we assured ourselves that the Haven2 was emptied of its rogues4. My cousin Oliver remained with two of Sir Gavin’s folk, to guard Miss Milne, lest any of the carrion5 crows fly back thither6. Now fully7 assured from my uncle’s speech and action that the Stone House held the secret of my father’s disappearance8 from England—that, indeed, he had returned and was held a prisoner by Martin Baynes and his fellow-rogues, Mr. Bradbury, p. 292with an activity beyond his years, was bent9 himself on riding thither; I—for all my bitter chagrin10 that the gems11 should have fallen into my uncle’s hands—was shaking with excitement for the thought that my father was at last come home, yet lay at the Stone House in peril12 of his life. The horses were gone from the stables; my uncle had ridden away on Sir Gavin’s own horse—to the justice’s choler; he must needs mount his servant’s horse, and I the other fellow’s.
We rode out then in the dark; swept down the avenue, and out the open gates—the woods yet roaring about us in the straining wind, though the strength of the gale13 had abated14.
So long as we held to the open road and to the byeways by which Roger Galt had brought me off the moors15 on the morn of my escape from the Stone House, we went at high speed—not pausing or drawing rein16. And the wind blowing from the sea smote17 roundly on us; the beating of the breakers on the cliff rolled up like thunder; once, as we passed in view of the sea, I saw a red flash out of the blackness, and thought that, belike, the King’s ship fired upon Blunt’s brig; but I could be sure of nothing for the pitch blackness or distinguish sound of cannon19 over the thunderous beat of the seas and crying of the wind.
p. 293Coming out on the wastes, we were compelled for the dark to go more cautiously for the broken ground; Sir Gavin pressed on steadily20 a little ahead, guiding us for the Stone House. We went in silence—intent upon our purpose; I wondering over the grim events of the long night, and dreading21 yet the event—that we should come too late, and that the rogues fleeing from Craike House, and black with rage at their defeat, should wreak22 their vengeance23 on my father—if indeed they held him at the Stone House—ere we might arrive.
I thought of Charles Craike flying through the night: he who had wrought24 this evil; victorious25 yet, the plundered26 jewels in his possession,—the jewels for which, as surely as my grandfather, he had sold his very soul. I thought of his triumphant27 laughter, as he fled through the night; I thought of all the cunning and the tricks by which he surely would escape us yet, and fly to France, and spend the treasure as he would, and where upon the Continent he would. But I thought, too, of black Roger racing28 grimly after through the night; I trusted yet that he, with all his knowledge of the roads, mounted on his great horse which many a time had carried him to safety, would come up with my uncle, and take him and the treasure.
p. 294On in the dark we rode. The way over the moorlands seemed unending; black coppice and rock, black upland appeared to join the blackness of the moonless, starless night; the bleak30 winds blowing at our backs, the lash18 of rain now falling on our shoulders. On and on, the blackness giving place to the one greyness of clouded skies and moorlands; the pale dawn coming.
And with the dawn we came out on the height above the Stone House, and saw it lie grey in the hollow below us; no gleam of firelight showed from its windows; no smoke curled up. No one was stirring; the house seemed deserted31. The baying of the hound sounded up to us. But, as we paused and drew together, Sir Gavin Masters, pointing with his whip, growled32 out, “They’re here—some of the rogues. See the horses feeding down by the wall there”—and suddenly bellowing33 with triumph, “Ay, and by God, Charles Craike himself is here; that’s my nag34 with the saddle on its back—inside the wall!”
Mr. Bradbury cried out sharply, “Come down, Sir Gavin! Come down! We dare not wait! What may be done within?”—and rode off apace.
Sir Gavin, following with the rest of us, gasped35, “But what of Roger Galt? What’s come to the fellow?”
p. 295Roger Galt was nigh the gateway36. He stood, hatless, mired37, and bleeding from a gash38 upon his brow, regarding his horse, lying dead on the stones before him. He was dazed yet from his fall, for, as we rode all about him, and Sir Gavin cried out, “What’s chanced to you, Galt?” he stood blinking at us stupidly a moment without answering. He swept his hand across his brow then, and wiped back the blood; and muttered, “That’s his work—damn him! The horse there! I come up with him at the gate. He pulled his barker on me, and I whipped out mine, and blazed at him. He’s away—and his bullet’s in my horse! He tried to take the London road; he couldn’t get away from me in the dark. I know the dark.”
“You’re not hurt, Galt,” cried Sir Gavin. “The fellow’s like to be in the house still. Ah, the gate’s open. See to your barkers, all of ye! Two of you ride to the back of the house. Come now!”
At our head then Sir Gavin rode through the gateway; we clattered39 after him over the cobbles and up to the house. The front door was shut fast and the windows closed; no sound and no light came from within. Sir Gavin scrambling40 down, we all dismounted; he, pistol in right, hunting crop in left, strode boldly up to the p. 296door, and hammered upon it, roaring out, “Open this door! In the King’s name—d’ye hear me? Open the door!”
No sound coming in answer, he turned back, and beckoning41 to his two fellows, ordered, “Look about ye for a log! We’ll have the door down!” and while they searched about the house, again he approached the door, and beat upon it, roaring out, “Open! Open! In the King’s name! Damn ye all—why don’t ye open the door?”
Roger Galt came staggering up from the gates, a bludgeon in his hand. Mr. Bradbury looked carefully to his pistols. I, staring up at the barred window of the room where I had been held a prisoner, cried out suddenly and pointed42 upwards43. For a hand had drawn44 aside the sacking, and my uncle stood looking down upon us. My uncle—nay, though in the greyness of the morn the face had seemed my uncle’s for the instant; this face was lean and sunburnt, the eyes sunken, the grey hair was blown back by the wind. The face was gone immediately; crying out, I rushed forward to the door, as Sir Gavin’s men came plunging45 forward with a great log between them; still crying out I know not what, I gripped it with them, and aided them propel it with a crash against the door. p. 297Mr. Bradbury beside me was calling out, “What is it, lad? What did ye see? Who stood at the window?”
And I cried back, as again we staggered under the weight of the log, and again propelled it against the door, “My father! I think my father—held a prisoner here!”
With a crash, the rotten timbers and rusted29 ironwork broke before us. And we were rushing forward into the house.
p. 299Chapter XXXVII. My Uncle Comes to his Own
In the half dark of the house, as we leaped forward—Sir Gavin and I, the runners and his fellows coming scurrying46 after—I saw Martin Baynes and Bart spring back before us, and gain the stairway. Martin faced us there—his pistol quivering in his hand, and Bart at his back with cutlass lifted. Sir Gavin cried out, “In the King’s name! Down with your arms! Or, by God, you’ll hang for it.”
Martin spat47 out a curse in answer and drew trigger; at the blaze and roar of the pistol, Sir Gavin hopped48 smartly back; flung up his arm and fired. Martin cried out, and fell down before us. Bart, leaning forward, cutlass in hand, leaped down suddenly upon us. I, slipping aside to the wall, heard the clash of his blade upon a tough bludgeon, and the fall of one of Sir Gavin’s fellows; instantly it seemed that the runners were on Bart, and the cutlass was dragged from his hand, and clanking against the stones. I had no thought save only to mount the stair. I saw faces peering down through the p. 300dark above me; I knew the folk for Barwise and big Nick; but as Sir Gavin, pushing me aside and snatching my pistol from me, plunged49 up the stair, they did not stay, and vanished in the dark before the door, scurrying away, I took it, to shelter in one of the rooms. I reached the stair-head; groping in the dark, I found the key yet in the lock, and presently had the door open, and with Sir Gavin was staring into the room where I had been held those days a prisoner. There faced us a tall man, poorly-clad and travel-stained, staring at us with sombre eyes; looking upon my father’s face, I understood the tragedy of weary years of suffering and exile written upon it; feature for feature he seemed like my uncle—yet so unlike.
He said no word as we advanced, but looked upon us dully, as without comprehension; Sir Gavin, gasping50 for very breathlessness as from excitement, demanded of him, “Who are ye? Aren’t ye Richard Craike?”
I sprang forward, stretching out my hands. I cried out, “I am John Craike—your son! Don’t you know me, father? Don’t you know me?”
His hands clasped mine,—rough, toil-worn p. 301hands—all trembling; he bent his head and stared down at me, and whispered, “John Craike! Ay, ay—John Craike,” in lifeless tone.
As I drew back, and stared at him in terror, Sir Gavin put his hand upon my shoulder and whispered, “He is mazed52 yet, lad; he doesn’t know you—he doesn’t understand! Ah—they’re quiet below”—and rushing out, roared down the stairs, “Is all safe there? Have you taken that rogue3?”
“Ay, ay, sir—we have him safe!” they shouted up in answer; and Sir Gavin growling53, “Ay, but where the devil’s that villain54, Charles?” took my father’s arm and brought him with me down the stair. Bart struggled in the grip of one runner, whilst the second bound his hands; Roger Galt and Sir Gavin’s men were standing55 guard over Martin lying against the wall, and seeking to staunch the flow of blood from his shoulder; Mr. Bradbury, pistol in hand, stood in the doorway56. But Mr. Bradbury, at the sight of my father, stepped forward, crying out, “My dear Richard! My dear sir! Alive and well,—that’s brave!”
“Ay, ay—alive, but not too well,” growled Sir Gavin. “He’s dazed yet—sick. Bradbury, get him out in the air! Stay here, boy! Leave him with Bradbury awhile. Now, you p. 302hangdog”—to Martin—“where the devil’s Charles Craike?”
Martin cursed him bitterly in answer; Sir Gavin, approaching the door of the living-room, sought to open it; and finding it locked, cried out, “Open the door! Or by the Lord, we’ll have it down! In the King’s name—d’ye understand! Open it! Here, you Charles Craike—if you’re in there, the game is played—d’ye hear? It’s gone against you!”
I believed that I heard my uncle’s voice faintly within. I heard a chair drawn back, and presently the key turn in the lock. And the door was drawn slowly open; and old Thrale, shuddering57 and ghastly, was looking at us.
“Out of the way!” cried Sir Gavin, and flung the door wide. “See to the stairs and doors. Let no one pass!”—and, pistol raised, he strode into the room with me at his heels.
The green curtain was drawn across the window; the room was dim in green light, as the sunrise struck against the house. I saw three figures in the room: old Thrale slinking back to the wall; Mistress Barwise, cowering58 in her chair by the fire; my uncle seated at the table—the black box broken open before him. I saw the blue jewels in the skull59 gleam dully. My uncle said no word, and did not stir in his chair.
p. 303“Pull back the curtain!” cried Sir Gavin to Thrale.
Thrale’s shaking hands plucked the green curtain from before the window. The room was illumined instantly by the sun. The yellow light woke the blue jewels in the eye sockets60 of the skull to life, and the gems spilt from the casket on to the black flag into a many-coloured flame.
My uncle sat staring at us; his eyes flickering61, his lips smiling, blood-smeared; his face ghastly as death. His white hands fluttered over the black silk; touched the skull; clawed among the jewels. He stood up from his chair; pressed his hands against his red-stained breast, and fell forward suddenly among the gems.
“Galt’s bullet—by God!” Sir Gavin cried, rushing towards him, whilst I stood trembling and aghast, and Mistress Barwise cowered62 by the fire, and Thrale shuddered63 by the wall.
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1
conjectured
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| 推测，猜测，猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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3
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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4
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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carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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8
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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9
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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12
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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13
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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14
abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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17
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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18
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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19
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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20
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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21
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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22
wreak
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| v.发泄；报复 | |
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23
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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24
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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25
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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plundered
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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29
rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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31
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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32
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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33
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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34
nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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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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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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37
mired
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| abbr.microreciprocal degree 迈尔德（色温单位）v.深陷( mire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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39
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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40
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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41
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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42
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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43
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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44
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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45
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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46
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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47
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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48
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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49
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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50
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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51
gaoled
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| 监禁( gaol的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
mazed
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| 迷惘的，困惑的 | |
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53
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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54
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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55
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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56
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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57
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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58
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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59
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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60
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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61
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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62
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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63
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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