Lupin lay for some minutes quite insensible upon the floor, but he did not lie long enough for Mrs. Oakley to take advantage of his temporary swoon and leave the place. Had she perhaps been very prompt and resolute3, and self-possessed, she might have done so, but under the whole of the circumstances, it was not to be supposed that such could be her state of mind; so the slight opportunity, for, after all, it was only a slight one, if one at all, was let slip by her.
She was just beginning to ask herself if there was a chance of getting away before Lupin should recover, when he uttered a hideous4 groan5, and moved slightly.
After these indications of recovery, Mrs. Oakley was afraid to move; and certainly, the slightest indication of her being otherwise than in the state of insensibility which Lupin believed to be her condition, there is very little doubt it would have been the signal for her death.
The man who commits a murder for the attainment6 of any object of importance to him, will not scruple7 to commit another to hide the first deed from the eyes of the world.
And now Lupin slowly rose to a sitting posture8, and glared around him for a few moments in silence. Then he spoke9.
"What is this?" he said. "What is all this? What is the meaning of all this? Blood!—blood! Is this blood upon my hands? No—no—yes, it is—it is. Ah! I recollect10."
He held his blood-stained hands to his eyes for a few moments, and then as he withdrew them, he slowly turned his eyes to where the body lay. With a shudder11 he dragged himself along the floor further off from it, gasping12 out as he did so—
"Off—off, horrible object!—off—off!"
His distempered imagination, no doubt, pictured the body as following him. Is there not, indeed, a prompt retribution in this world?
"Off—off, I say! No further!—Not dead?—not dead yet? How much blood have you in you now to shed? Off—off!"
He reached the wall. He could get no further, and thus pursued still by the same wild insane idea, he sprung to his feet, and uttering a loud cry, he caught up a chair and held it out at arm's length before him, shouting—
"Keep away—keep away! Keep off, I say—I—I did not do it. Who shall say I did it? Who saw me do it?"
He slowly dropped the chair, and then in a more composed voice he said—
Mrs. Oakley had hoped that his ravings would reach some other ears then hers, and that his apprehension14, with the bleeding witness of his crime close at hand, would follow as a thing of course, and then how gladly would she have flown from her place of concealment15, and cried out—
"He did it! I saw him! That is the man!"
But such was not the case. Either he really did not call out loud enough to make himself heard, or the inhabitants of the court were too much accustomed to all sorts of sounds to pay any attention even to the ravings of a murderer!
No one came. No one even knocked at the chapel16-door to know if anything was amiss, and when she saw him calm, and in a measure self-possessed again, her heart died within her.
"Murder! murder!" he said; "I have done murder! Yes, I have steeped my hands in blood—again—again! It is not the first time, but one does not become familiar with murder. I did not feel as I feel now when I took a life before. Oh, horror! horror!"
He shook, but soon again recovered himself.
"The vaults17! The vaults!" he said. "They will hide the dead. Who will look for this woman? What friends has she? Is there one in all the world who cares if she be alive or dead? Not one. Is there one who will stir six steps to find out what has become of her? Not one."
Again he solaced19 himself with a draught20 of brandy, and then he set about making his preparations for disposing of the dead body of his slaughtered21 victim.
From a drawer in the room he took a large sheet, and spread it upon the floor. Then he kicked and pushed the dead body with his feet on to it, and then he deliberately22 rolled it up round and round in the sheet, and at each fold feeling that it was further removed from his sight, he seemed to breathe more and more freely.
He spoke in something like his old tones.
"That will do—that will do. The vaults will be the place. Was there ever such a cunning place for murder to be done in as a chapel, with its ready receptacles of the dead beneath it? There let her rot. She will never come up in judgment23 against me from there. It is done now. The deed that I often thought of doing, and yet never had the courage, nor the opportunity at the same time, to accomplish until to-night. The vaults—the vaults. Ay, the vaults!"
He lit a lantern that he took from the cupboard, and then he opened the door that communicated with the staircase terminating in the chapel. He listened as though he fancied that some one might be below listening to the deed of blood above.
"All is still," he muttered, "so very still. It is providential. It is the will of Heaven that this woman should die to night, and after all I am but the instrument of its decrees—nothing more. That is comforting."
He now dragged the body to the door he had opened, but he did not carry it. When he got it there he overbalanced it, and let it fall down. Mrs. Oakley, even from where she was, heard the horrible smash with which it reached the bottom of the stairs.
Lupin followed with the lantern.
And now it would seem as if another opportunity had presented itself to Mrs. Oakley to escape. The staircase down which Lupin had gone communicated with the chapel. It was another flight that led to the ordinary door through which any one passed who might be coming to the private part of the house. That staircase of course she expected to reach without going through the room in which the murder was committed, as her room and the adjoining one both opened upon its landing as well as into each other.
Mrs. Oakley slowly rose from her knees.
"God help us," she said, "and give me strength to make an attempt to leave this frightful24 place. There will surely be time while Lupin is in the vaults. Oh, yes, there will surely be time."
She tottered25 along with as little strength as though she had been lying for weeks upon a bed of sickness, so completely had she been unnerved by what she had seen.
She touched the handle of the door. Even that was support. And then, she turned it. The door did not open. It was locked!
Mrs. Oakley felt as if at that moment all her chance of escape was gone. She felt as though she were given over by providence26 to Lupin to be murdered. Why had he locked the door, but that if by any rare chance she should awaken27 from the lethargic28 sleep into which he supposed her to be plunged29, she should have no outlet30 but through the room in which he would be? But he was not there now, and the door of communication between her room and that in which the murder had been done might not be fast.
To try it was the work now of a moment; Mrs. Oakley felt a little more self-possessed with the knowledge that Lupin was not close at hand, and she opened the door. It yielded readily enough to her touch.
She was in the room of murder—in the very atmosphere of blood. She glanced around her, and, although she had seen all through the opening in the canvas partition, yet she was horrified31 to find herself closer to the spot upon which the fearful deed had been done. Lupin, when he had lit his lantern with which to go to the vaults, had not extinguished the ordinary light that burnt in his room. That had a long spectral-looking wick; but it gave sufficient light to enable Mrs. Oakley to see the blood upon the floor.
She sickened at the sight.
But if she were to escape, it must be done at once. Lupin would not be likely to linger longer by one brief moment in the vaults than was absolutely necessary; and he might return before she had effected her purpose yet.
She flew to the door of his room, which opened on to the landing. She made an effort to open it. Alas32! it was in vain; it, too, was locked, and the key was gone!
"I am a prisoner!" said Mrs. Oakley, as she clasped her hands; "I am a prisoner to this dreadful man!"
For some few moments now she felt completely overwhelmed by this misfortune. The only outlet from the room that was not fast, was that which Lupin himself had taken, and which led to the chapel. Should she venture that way or not?—that was the question. Could she resolve upon staying where she was, and trusting to an escape in the morning? No, no; she told herself that would be too horrible. She would have, then, to look at Lupin in the face, and to talk to him.
"No—no—no! I cannot do that," she said. "I will go down the staircase that he has gone down—I will pass through the chapel—I will try to open the chapel door, and then I will rush out with the cry of murder upon my lips."
It was a trembling anxious thing to follow the murderer and his victim down that staircase; but having found all other mode of egress33 denied to her, Mrs. Oakley attempted it.
Slowly she went, step by step; and ever and anon she paused to listen for any sound that should be indicative of Lupin's whereabouts—but she heard nothing.
"He must be deep beneath the chapel," she said, "among the vaults—that is where he must be. I shall be safe if I hasten now. Oh, so safe—quite safe!"
She did hasten, and another moment brought her to the foot of the stairs. A door in the chapel-wall terminated them. That was the door against which Mrs. Oakley had heard the dead body strike with such a frightful crash when Lupin had cast it down the stairs. It was swinging open now.
Another moment and she was in the chapel.
From out of the aperture34, occasioned by the lifting up of a large square trap-door in the centre of the chapel floor, there came a faint stream of light. Mrs. Oakley knew that that trap-door led to the vaults. She knew that a flight of steps was immediately beneath it which lead to the loathsome35 receptacles of the dead, where the pious36 members of Mr. Lupin's flock were laid when they and this world had bidden each other adieu. She knew that he derived37 no despicable revenue from letting such lodgings38 to the dead.
And he was down there with his victim—the first person that he ever permitted to lie there without a fee!
Mrs. Oakley, to reach the chapel door, must needs pass quite close to the open trap-door; and as she neared it, a terrible curiosity took possession of her—it was to see what Lupin was doing below—it was to ascertain39 in what way he disposed of his victim's body. She thought that she ought to see that. She thought, then, that she could tell all, and bring the hounds of justice to the very spot where the murdered woman lay.
She paused for a moment upon the brink40 of the trap, and then, by an impulse that at the moment seemed, and was, irresistible41, she began the descent among the vaults.
These vaults were quite dignified42 by being so called. They were nothing but cellars—nothing in the world but damp gloomy cellars—and Lupin made as much of them as he did of the chapel overhead. The corpses43 lay there thick and three-fold. A ghostly company! and yet Lupin had many underground lodgings to let.
What cared he if the fumes44 from the dead came up, and made havoc45 upon hot Sundays among the living? What cared he what mischief46 the charnel-house beneath the planks47 did to the old and to the young? His own constitution, he had a strong impression, could be fortified48 by copious49 libations of brandy. Probably he was wrong in his practice, but he had faith in his remedy, and that was a great thing—a very great thing, indeed.
Mrs. Oakley slowly crept down the steps leading to the vaults. She was guided by the faint light of Lupin's lantern, which was she knew not where. Twice she paused to listen if he were coming, as in such a case she would have flown back upon the wings of terror, but she heard nothing, and she passed onward50.
Twelve steps led to the lowest depth upon which the vaults were situated51. Then there was a kind of passage, upon which were flag stones very roughly and clumsily laid down. Right and left of this passage the vaults were. It wound completely round the chapel, but she had not to go very far to ascertain where Lupin was at work. The light of the lantern guided her to the half-open door of the vault18, within which he was at work.
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1
juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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jeopardy
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| n.危险；危难 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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6
attainment
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| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
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7
scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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8
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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9
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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10
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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11
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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12
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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13
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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14
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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15
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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16
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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17
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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19
solaced
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| v.安慰，慰藉( solace的过去分词 ) | |
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20
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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21
slaughtered
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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23
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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24
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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25
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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26
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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27
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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28
lethargic
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| adj.昏睡的，懒洋洋的 | |
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29
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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30
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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31
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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32
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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33
egress
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| n.出去；出口 | |
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34
aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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35
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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36
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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37
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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38
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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39
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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40
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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41
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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42
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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43
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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44
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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45
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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46
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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47
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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48
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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49
copious
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| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
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50
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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51
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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