“This is one of the women I told you of,” he murmured. “Mrs. Tretheroe’s maid—Daphne Halliwell, sister of the girl Myra Halliwell, who married Guy Markenmore. She’s therefore aunt to the new baronet!—and as deep as they make ’em. Come with me—I’ll let her think you’re an assistant of mine.”
“Excellent!” said the Professor. “An adventure! By all means, my dear fellow! The lady looks as if she had something to impart.”
“I shouldn’t wonder!” answered Blick. “As I say—she’s deep.”
Daffy had retreated further up the walk between the laurel and holly2 bushes; she now stood awaiting their approach, and as they drew near, she looked closely at the Professor, and especially at his fashionable attire3. Her eyes glanced a question at Blick.
“All right!” whispered Blick. “Professional friend of mine. What is it?”
“I want to speak to you,” said Daffy. She looked round at their surroundings and then at a narrower path which opened close by. “Come along here,” she went on. “There’s an old summer-house down there that’s never used—we shall be safe there.”
The two men followed Daffy’s trim figure through a maze4 of shrubs5 until they came to a rustic6 arbour set in the midst of high trees. Entering this, a dilapidated and mouldy place, she turned and confronted Blick with another side-glance at the Professor.
“I wanted to speak to you, Mr. Blick,” she said, in low tones. “I’d been waiting there at the gate some little time, thinking I might see you coming out of the Sceptre. My mistress has driven into Selcaster, so I shan’t be wanted, and nobody’s likely to come here, so we’re safe enough for a bit of talk. Look here! there’s a reward out, isn’t there?”
“Oh, well!” she said. “It’s a miserable9 amount, but I don’t want it, and I don’t know anything that would enable me to get it. But—now, this is between ourselves, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely!” declared Blick. “Strictly so. Tell us anything you like—and can.”
“Well, I know of somebody who, I believe, has made a pretty good guess at the truth about Guy Markenmore,” answered Daffy. “And he’s a man who’d be glad of a hundred pounds, for he wants to emigrate.”
“What man?” asked Dick.
Daffy lowered the tones of her voice.
“Jim Roper!” she whispered. “You’ve heard of him?”
“Yes,” replied Blick. He was already wondering how much of whatever was coming was to be relied on; as far as he had seen into her character, Daffy did not seem the sort of woman to tell anything that would not benefit herself. But she might have reasons for benefiting Jim Roper which was not yet apparent. “Yes,” he repeated, “I’ve heard of Jim Roper. He’s the man who wanted to marry your sister, Myra, isn’t he—the sister who ran away with and married Guy Markenmore?”
“That’s just it,” assented Daffy. “It’s because he was about to marry Myra when she threw him clean over and went off with Guy Markenmore that Roper hasn’t spoken. But a hundred pounds might induce him to speak!”
“What do you mean, exactly, about it’s because of that?” asked Blick. “And what is it that he hasn’t spoken of?”
“Well,” replied Daffy, with a glance that took in both men, “it’s like this—Roper is, and always was, what you’d call a dark-tempered man. The sort that never forgets nor forgives. He’d always meant to marry Myra, and she’d promised him, too. In fact, they were just about to have the banns published when she suddenly ran away with Guy. And, of course, nobody—not even me, her own sister!—ever knew what had become of her until recently, when all this business came out about their having got married. Roper, when she first went off, went many a time to London to look for her. He never got a trace of her, of course, but he always swore that it was Guy Markenmore who’d enticed11 her away. And he swore something else, too—that if ever he chanced across Guy Markenmore he’d kill him, if he swung for it there and then. He meant it, too! That was about the last thing he said to me just before I went to India, with Mrs. Tretheroe, and it was the first thing I heard him say when I came back here, seven years later.”
“Still meaning to do it, eh?—after seven years?” said Blick.
“I believe he’d have done it if he’d met Guy Markenmore after seventeen years!” replied Daffy. “He’s that sort! I could see he’d got worse with brooding over it. It was the one thing on his mind. Why, it’s only a fortnight ago that I met him hereabouts one day, and happened to mention that old Sir Anthony was on his last legs, and that I’d wondered if Guy would come back and be master, and he scowled12 and said that if Guy ever came back it would only be to get a knife through him! And I’ll tell you, since it is between ourselves, that when I heard that Guy had been murdered, I fully14 believed that Roper had met him that morning and done for him—I really did!”
“And you don’t believe it now?” suggested Blick.
“No!” asserted Daffy. “But I believe Roper has a very good idea as to who did murder him. In fact, he may have more than an idea—he may know. And I tell you that he may be inclined to tell you for a hundred pounds, for now that he knows Myra is dead, he wants to leave here and go abroad.”
“What makes you think that Roper knows something?” enquired15 Blick. “Let’s have it straight out, now! Has he said anything to you?”
“Yes!” replied Daffy. “I met him a night or two ago, when he’d come down to the village to do his shopping. We got talking by that gate where you met me just now, and, of course, it was all about the murder. I asked him straight out if he’d had anything to do with it? He said no, worse luck, he hadn’t! And then he said more. ‘I could tell something about it,’ he said, ‘but I ain’t going to, for the thing’s done, now. I ain’t going to help the police,’ he went on. ‘Let ’em do their own work.’ That was all—he went off, then.”
“Giving you no more idea than just that?” asked Blick.
“He said nothing but that,” replied Daffy. “But I’m sure he knows something. Only, if you begin questioning him, for God’s sake don’t let him know I told you!”
“I can get over that, easily, if you’ll just tell me this,” said Blick reassuringly16. “Did Roper make threats against Guy Markenmore in anybody’s presence beside your own?—in the old days, I mean?”
“Oh, he certainly did in the old days!—before I went to India,” asserted Daffy. “I’ve heard of him saying dreadful things at the Sceptre. I should think there’s many a man in the village who’s heard him.”
Blick’s memory went back to the first conversation he had overheard at the Sceptre, and to the remarks of certain of the village men as to the feelings of enmity cherished by various unnamed persons of the neighbourhood against Guy Markenmore.
“All right,” he said. “Your name shan’t come in. I’ve heard something of Roper’s threats and feelings elsewhere. But now, where does Roper live?”
“All by himself, in a cottage amongst the woods on the other side of the Downs, behind Markenmore Hollow,” replied Daffy. “He keeps himself to himself up there—never comes down this way, except once a week to buy his groceries and meat.”
“What sort of man is he?” asked Blick.
“He used to be as nice a lad as there was anywhere about, till Myra ran away,” answered Daffy. “But that soured him. He’s a black, gloomy, quiet man, now—scarcely speaks, and never smiles. I don’t know if you’ll get anything out of him or not, but I’m perfectly17 certain he either knows something or has guessed at something.”
“You’re quite sure, in your own mind, that Roper himself is innocent?” suggested Blick, looking searchingly at her.
Daffy Halliwell glanced at both men and uttered a queer laugh.
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “I’m certain of that!”
“Why, now?” asked the Professor, speaking for the first time since the beginning of the conversation. “Why are you certain?”
Daffy turned her regard more particularly to the second questioner. After looking carefully at him for a full minute, she spoke10.
“You look as if you’d understand—whoever you are,” she said suddenly. “And that you’re a policeman—plain-clothes or otherwise—I don’t believe! I’m certain Jim Roper didn’t kill Guy Markenmore, because if he had he’s just the man to have let it be known that he’d had his revenge! He wouldn’t have cared twopence if they’d hanged him next day!”
Blick exchanged another word or two with Daffy as to Roper’s exact location, and he and his companion went off. The Professor marched along in silence for awhile.
“That woman possesses a power of keen insight into character,” he remarked at last. “She’d make a useful member of your force, Blick! I’m sure she’s quite right in what she said just now. A man of the sort she described, who’d nursed his desire for revenge all these years, wouldn’t care very much who knew that he’d satisfied it at last. For him, you see, it would be the end!—all else would be nothing.”
“What about self-preservation?” suggested Blick.
“I don’t think he’d be at all careful about that,” replied the Professor thoughtfully. “No!—the woman’s intuition is right. I think we must acquit18 this man Roper. A much-wronged man, too, evidently. I’m curious to see him.”
“I daresay we shall soon find him,” said Blick. “He’ll be somewhere in the woods.”
He led his companion up Deep Lane, past The Warren and Woodland Cottage, to the summit of the high ground above Markenmore Hollow. Beyond that point Blick had never been; he was surprised to find himself contemplating19 a stretch of country which in its wildness and diversity contrasted strongly with the pastoral and landscape country that he and his companion had just left behind them. Here, on the northern side of the uplands, the hillsides were broken into deep dark combes and ravines; great masses of rock jutted20 out from the slopes; old, dark, apparently21 impenetrable woods were on all sides; the two men, looking round in astonishment22 at the almost savage23 character of the scene, observed that as far as they could see there was not a human habitation in sight.
“A wild scene!” remarked the Professor. “Deserted!”
But Blick lifted a hand.
“Hark!” he said.
From somewhere to the right of where they stood came the unmistakable ring of an ax, laid with vigour24 to the root of some tree. Turning in that direction, they saw the tall slender spire25 of a pine sway, totter26, and disappear amongst the lower trees, amidst which it had stood: a dull crash followed.
“That’ll be our man at work,” said Blick.
Silently the two men crossed the hill-side in the direction whence the sound of the swinging ax, now evidently laid aside, had proceeded. Within a few minutes they reached a belt of trees, through an opening in which they saw a clearing in the wood beyond. There, beside the fallen pine, stood a man, at that moment in the act of lighting27 his short clay pipe. His ax lay against the tree which it had just felled; near it a dog was curled up against its master’s coat. It cocked an ear and opened an eye as the two strangers drew near; at its low growl28, the man turned and gave his visitors a sullen29, questioning glance.
“A formidable-looking fellow!” murmured the Professor. “And that ax of his is a fearsome weapon, Blick! I should speak him very fair—to begin with.”
Blick smiled.
“I shan’t frighten him!” he answered. “Persuasion goes further than force. Good afternoon!” he continued pleasantly, as they came nearer the object of their search. “Are you James Roper?”
“My name, mister,” replied the woodman.
“That’s mine,” said Blick, producing one of his professional cards. “You may have heard of me. I’m staying at the Sceptre.”
Roper took the card, glanced at it and at Blick, and handed it back, unconcernedly.
“Heard something o’ the sort,” he answered.
Blick sat down on the fallen pine, and pulled out his pipe and tobacco.
“I wanted to know if you couldn’t give me a bit of information, Roper,” he said. “You live hereabouts, don’t you?”
“Close by,” replied Roper, in tones which signified that it was none of Blick’s business where he lived.
“Then you know this district—these woods and hill-sides and downs—very well indeed, I should think,” continued Blick. “Out on them and amongst them early in a morning, and perhaps late at night, no doubt?”
Roper made no answer. He had got his pipe fairly going by that time, and he now picked up his ax and began to lop away the upper twigs30 and slighter branches of the tree on which Blick had seated himself. Blick assented to his silence and kept his own, the ax ceased, and Roper, leaning on its shaft31, looked at his questioner.
“You ain’t come up here for nothing!” he said, with a scowl13. “What might you be after? I do hear as how you’re a-enquiring into that there affair at Markenmore Hollow. I don’t know nothing about it. Might strike ’ee that if I did I’d ha’ come somewheres your way or to they police at Selcaster, and ha’ told.”
“And it might strike me that you wouldn’t,” retorted Blick, with a sly glance at his man. “I’ve learnt a good deal since I came into these parts. You’d a pretty good grudge32 against Guy Markenmore yourself, eh?”
Roper scowled more darkly than before.
“Don’t know nothing certain about how he come by his end, anyhow,” he muttered. “And as to grudges33, there’s them around here as knows how that varmint treated I! Ain’t a decent man, same as what I’ve been, a right to have his feelings about another man as treated him bad?”
“You’ve the same right to your feelings that every other man has,” agreed Blick. “Who says you haven’t?”
Roper looked somewhat mollified.
“Well,” he remarked slowly, “’cause o’ such feelings as I do have, I ’oodn’t ha’ lifted a finger to presarve that man! He got what such-like desarves! But I ain’t no, what you might call certain idea whatever who he got it from.”
“You mean—if it comes to precise particulars,” insinuated34 Blick. “But now look here, Roper. You knock about a good deal round this part, early and late, and I guess you’ve a pair of sharp eyes and a pair of sharp ears as well. Guy Markenmore’s dead!—good riddance to him, if you like!—I don’t care, I’m sure. But what’s it matter if you, if you have any knowledge of any sort about him, just before his death, if you let it out—especially if it’s made worth your while? For instance—in going about, as you do, have you ever seen anything suspicious, or met any suspicious characters? Have you ever heard or seen anything out of the common?”
Roper looked from one visitor to another. The Professor, smoking a cigar, was watching him attentively35.
“Ain’t heard nothing about it’s being worth anybody’s while to tell anything as they might chance to know,” said Roper suddenly.
Blick silently drew out his copy of the reward bill and handed it to the woodman; the Professor, keenly attentive36, saw Roper’s eyes brighten at sight of the heavy type in which the particulars of Mrs. Braxfield’s reward were printed. He drew his heavy brows together as he laboriously37 read through the offer.
“How does that strike you?” asked Blick presently. “There’s a hundred pounds to be picked up by anybody who can tell a bit. If you know anything—mind, Roper, I’m not implying that you do!—but—if you do—eh?”
Roper began to fold up the reward bill; his eyes were fixed38 thoughtfully on the trees in front of him as he handed the paper back to the detective.
“Keep it!” said Blick. “It’s posted all over the place. If you do chance to know anything at all, Roper, cut in first!”
“That there money?—a hundred pound,” said Roper slowly. “Is it a sure thing?”
“I’ll guarantee that!” answered Blick. “Dead certain!—to anybody who can give accurate information. Have you got any?”
“Money down?” asked Roper.
“Money down!” assented Blick. “Spot cash!”
Roper’s pipe had gone out. He suddenly seated himself on the fallen tree, and proceeded to re-light the tobacco, with a deliberation which showed that he was being equally deliberate in his thoughts.
“I could do wi’ a hundred pounds!” he said suddenly. “’Tain’t a great deal, sure-ly—but it ’ud do me a good turn. I’m sick and weary o’ these parts, now, and I want to be off—I want to start a new life, somewhere’s far away! That man Guy Markenmore—he broke my life in two, as you might say, and now—well, if I’ve the money I’ll go right away out o’ this, and see new places and faces, and try if I can’t forget. I’ve lived overmuch alone, and——”
Blick had not been prepared for this outburst of feeling, nor was he prepared for an equally sudden, wholly impulsive39, similar display from the Professor.
“Look here, my man!” he exclaimed. “You don’t know me—never mind!—Blick here does. Now then, if you want a new start—another life, eh?—I’ll give you a hundred pounds in addition to this reward money—great pleasure, I’m sure—and just now! But—if you know anything—tell!”
“Thank ’ee sir!” he said suddenly. “I see you means it—you’re a man with a bit o’ heart in you! Well, I don’t know nothing positive, but I can make a pretty good guess at—something!”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
holly
|
|
| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
attire
|
|
| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
maze
|
|
| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
assented
|
|
| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
grimace
|
|
| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
enticed
|
|
| 诱惑，怂恿( entice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
scowled
|
|
| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
scowl
|
|
| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
enquired
|
|
| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
reassuringly
|
|
| ad.安心，可靠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
acquit
|
|
| vt.宣判无罪；(oneself)使(自己)表现出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
contemplating
|
|
| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
jutted
|
|
| v.（使）突出( jut的过去式和过去分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
spire
|
|
| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
totter
|
|
| v.蹒跚， 摇摇欲坠；n.蹒跚的步子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
growl
|
|
| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
twigs
|
|
| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
shaft
|
|
| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
grudge
|
|
| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
grudges
|
|
| 不满，怨恨，妒忌( grudge的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
insinuated
|
|
| v.暗示( insinuate的过去式和过去分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
attentive
|
|
| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
laboriously
|
|
| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
impulsive
|
|
| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |