The negro quarter was wrapped in silence. The swift rustling5 of a rat, a distant cock-crow from the sleeping city, were the only sounds to break the stillness of the night. At length we reached the narrow lane in which the shanty6 stood. It was almost dark; for the moon had gone in behind a bank of clouds and the day was not yet come.
The big wooden door stood wide. Across the little yard dimly we saw the dark outline of the shack7. The mud surface of the court was wet and sticky and my rubber-soled shoes slipped on it as we crossed the threshold of the enclosure. John Bard8 touched my arm.
"Man alive," he whispered, "look at your shoes!"
We dashed across the yard. The shanty door stood open.
Within, amid a scene of hideous13 confusion, the body of the beach-comber hung head downwards14 from the rough couch, the throat cut from ear to ear. And behind the door in another welter of blood lay the corpse15 of Do?a Luisa.
The place was a shambles16. The hut had been turned upside-down and the few poor belongings17 of the outcast were scattered18 all over the floor. The very maize19 cane20 on which his dead body lay had been tossed about. And the blood was smeared everywhere as though the murderer or murderers had brought it in on their boots.
John Bard's face was anxious.
"We'll do well to clear out of here," he said, "before it gets light. They mustn't find us here. Let's go out by the back and return by the way you came...."
I gladly acquiesced21 in his suggestion. To tell the truth, I was feeling a little sick. The fetid odours of the negro quarter reeked22 to heaven in the freshening morning air, and mingled23 with them was a suspicion of some unutterably horrid24 taint25 arising from the two corpses26 which had lain there all through the warm night.
We had reached the threshold of the back door when suddenly a heavy footstep sounded from the front. In the absolute stillness all round the sound rang out clearly. It was as though a heavy man were stumping28 slowly across the hard pounded earth of the front yard. He came with a step and a stump27, a step and a stump, like a lame29 man walking with a stick or crutches30.
John Bard made as though to bolt. But I restrained him. I felt I must see this mysterious visitant. And John Bard, loyal friend as he is, though he had nothing to gain by my rashness, stopped dead in his tracks and with me drew behind the cover of the back door. Through the chink between the door and jamb we surveyed the entrance to the shack.
A huge black shape stood on the threshold. It was too dark within the hut to note the newcomer's features or his dress. One had only the sensation of a great form that bulked largely, immensely, in the doorway31.
I turned noiselessly to Bard. He divined the unspoken proposal on my lips for he shook his head curtly32 and his grip on my sleeve tightened33. At the same moment the great form in the doorway moved and the next instant was swallowed up in the shadows of the courtyard. We heard the clip-clop of his limping step as he crossed the enclosure and, little by little, die away as he stumped34 up the lane.
John Bard was speaking to me. Blindly I did as he bade me and rubbed dust over the damp, dark stains on the white buckskin. Then gripping me by the arm my friend ran me through the backyard and out by the door which now stood open.
In the freshness of the plantation35, away from the stenches of the village and the nameless taint of that house of slaughter36, my senses came back to me and I felt ashamed of he rashness which might have had disastrous37 consequences for both of us. But, when at length we stood once more in the bungalow38 and Bard poured me out a stiff dose of brandy, I noticed that, contrary to his invariable rule, he had one himself as well.
"And now," said he, and in his voice was a note of decision, "the sooner you leave Rodriguez, Desmond, the better for you. I don't want to appear inhospitable or I might add, the better for me too. That poor devil, Adams, is dead and you can do nothing for him by staying. You are sufficiently39 acquainted, I take it, with the mentality40 of my distinguished41 fellow-citizens to realise that very little fuss will be made over the untimely demise42 of Adams and his coloured lady. In the meantime you are in the greatest danger here.
"I don't see why I should worry," I argued. "If they had known of my visit to Adams they would have raided the hut and butchered the three of us to get hold of the document. But they didn't; and they don't even know me by sight...."
"They evidently didn't know of your visit at the time," remarked John Bard gravely. "But obviously something happened after your departure to put them wise. Hence the attack on the house. You were either seen going to the house or Do?a Luisa gave you away. It looks to me as though they had only just traced the document to Adams. Black Pablo was set to watch but, after the happy-go-lucky fashion of Latin America, he whiled away the time by serenading some of the dusky belles43 in the vicinity and failed to observe your arrival."
I recalled the soft laughter I had heard, mingling44 with the strains of the guitar in the lane, and nodded.
"You think that this fellow Black Pablo was put on guard to see that Adams did not leave the house?...."
"Precisely," agreed my friend, "while El Cojo was sent for.
"El Cojo, the head of the gang?"
"Himself and no other.... the lame man who came to the door of the shack after the crime had been committed. In Spanish 'El Cojo' means 'the lame man,' 'he who goes with a limp'...."
John Bard went on talking but I have no recollection of what he said. For my thoughts had flown back to another "lame man" who had dominated the most thrilling episode in the whole of my life, the giant and ape-like cripple, head of the Kaiser's personal Secret Service in the days of Germany's greatness, who had dogged my brother Francis and myself until he had met his end at our hands in the chateau45 on the German-Dutch frontier. Old Clubfoot, as men called him in his heyday46, had been in his grave these four years past; yet once again I found the path of adventure barred at its outset by a great lame man. I thought of that huge figure blocking up the narrow doorway of the reeking47 hut and, as so often in the past, I felt welling up within me admiration48 for the extraordinary ingenuity49 of old man Destiny....
"....This gang of El Cojo's," John Bard was saying impressively, leaning across the table at me, hands palms downwards before him, "is a tremendous organisation50 with a network of spies as widespread and efficient as the Camorra and Mafia in Italy or the Carbonados in Portugal and Brazil. I have long suspected that there was at the head of it a man much bigger and abler than that murdering ruffian, Black Pablo, and now we have the proof of it. I know a bit about men, Desmond and that hulking dot-and-carry-one scoundrel we saw to-night gives me a damned unpleasant feeling. You mark my words; whether you were actually spotted51 or not they'll trace that plan to you and if you stay here, they'll get you! And I know!"
He appeared to reflect for a moment whilst I considered him with attention; for I had never before seen old John so worked up. But there is nothing like the Unknown for getting on a fellow's nerves.
Then he drove his fist into his palm as if a sudden idea had struck him.
"The Naomi," he said; "the very thing for you!"
"The Naomi?" I repeated.
"Yes. The yacht that came in last evening. She's going down to Honolulu. We ought to be able to fix it for you so they'll take you with them...."
"What is this yacht?" I asked.
"She belongs to Sir Alexander Garth. By George! She's a beauty, Desmond! White paint and a gold line, green and white deck awnings52, everything slap up. He's a millionaire, they say!"
"I don't know the name."
"We looked him up in the 'Who's Who' at the club to-night. He's a baronet, and a big man in cotton. J.P. and D.L. of the county. What brings him here I don't know, except that cruising to the Southern Seas seems to be a fashionable rest-cure for millionaires whose nerves have been jaded53 by piling up money during the war."
"But, see here, John," I expostulated, "I can't go butting54 into a private pleasure cruise like this, I really can't. It isn't done, you know! And you can't expect these prosaic55 English folk to swallow a long yarn56 about my life being in danger!"
"Desmond," said Bard—and now his voice was very stern. "You can take it from me that if you don't clear out at once, you'll get your throat cut and probably mine into the bargain. There won't be a steamer for Colon57 for at least a fortnight. This yacht is a heaven-sent opportunity for making you lucky. If you wait for the steamer it's a ten to one chance you'll go up the gangway in your coffin58 neatly59 packed in ice! Do you get that? For the Lord's sake, burn that damned rigmarole and beat it!"
We Celts have a broad strain of contrariness in our nature which probably accounts for my strong inclination60 to disregard Bard's advice. But his manner was so impressive for one of his unemotional disposition61 that I could not but feel convinced.
"Perhaps you're right, old man," I said. "I won't burn the 'rigmarole' as you call it, but otherwise I will follow your suggestion. But it will be on one condition and one condition only. That is, that we part here and now and that, should by any chance, your plan for my forcing my company upon the excellent cotton-spinner and his party fail, you will not associate with me or in any way acknowledge me as long as I am in the city...."
I held out my hand. But Bard laughed and put his two hands on my shoulders.
"No, no," he protested, "it's not so bad as all that. I'm coming down to the harbour to fix it up with Garth for you. He will probably call at the Consulate62 this morning any way to fetch the stores we are holding for him."
"John," said I, "I've dragged you far enough into this mess. It's early enough yet for me to go down to the harbour and on to that yacht without attracting much attention. So let's part here and ever so many thanks again for all your kindness...."
"Desmond,"—John Bard's voice trembled a little—"I wouldn't hear of it...."
"My dear old man," I said. "I'm in a proper mess and I've no intention of pulling you into it after me. And I'd like to say one thing more. You might have rubbed it in that the whole of this trouble was brought on us by my initial folly63 in accompanying an unknown messenger to the purlieus of the city in the middle of the night. You have never alluded64 to it; but I'd like you to know that your forbearance did not escape me...."
"I'll send your things down to the Consulate," he said; "they can go on board with Garth's stores."
And so, in perfect understanding, we settled it. At the verandah door I turned and said:—
"And do you think now that there's anything in Adams' story?"
"Yes," my host replied, "I do!"
Then he added, with his little indulgent smile:—
"Are you going after it?"
"I might!" said I.
But already fermenting67 in my brain was the germ of a great idea. The next moment the iron gate of the gardens clanged behind me and I was off at a good pace down the hill.
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1
betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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3
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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inborn
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| adj.天生的，生来的，先天的 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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bard
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| n.吟游诗人 | |
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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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10
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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smear
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| v.涂抹；诽谤，玷污；n.污点；诽谤，污蔑 | |
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12
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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13
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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14
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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15
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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18
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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19
maize
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| n.玉米 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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21
acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
reeked
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的过去式和过去分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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23
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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24
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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27
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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28
stumping
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| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的现在分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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crutches
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| n.拐杖, 支柱 v.支撑 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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32
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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33
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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34
stumped
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| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的过去式和过去分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
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35
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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36
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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37
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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38
bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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39
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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40
mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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41
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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42
demise
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| n.死亡；v.让渡，遗赠，转让 | |
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43
belles
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| n.美女( belle的名词复数 )；最美的美女 | |
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44
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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45
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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46
heyday
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| n.全盛时期，青春期 | |
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47
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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48
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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49
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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50
organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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51
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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52
awnings
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| 篷帐布 | |
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53
jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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54
butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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55
prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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56
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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57
colon
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| n.冒号，结肠，直肠 | |
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58
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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59
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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60
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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61
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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62
consulate
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| n.领事馆 | |
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63
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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64
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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66
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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67
fermenting
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| v.（使）发酵( ferment的现在分词 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
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