"But it is astonishing, this!" she exclaimed. "Sunshine in London—in January!"
The young man was a little confused. He was very diffident, and such lack of conventionality on the part of a perfect stranger surprised him.
"It is unusual," he admitted.
"It is a thing which I have never seen," she went on, dropping voice a little and glancing towards a bath-chair close at hand, in which an elderly and very delicate-looking old gentleman was muffled4 up in furs and apparently5 asleep. "It is something, even, for which I had not dared to hope. We seem so far here from everything that is bright and beautiful and cheerful."
Aaron Rodd, who was a shy and awkward being, felt unexpectedly at his ease. He was even anxious for further conversation. He had a rather long, pale face, with deep-set eyes and rugged6 features. He was soberly, even sombrely dressed in dismal8 black. He had the air of a recluse9. Perhaps that was why the young lady smiled upon him with such confidence.
"You are not English?" he ventured.
She shook her head.
"What we are now, alas11!" she sighed, glancing towards the bath-chair, "I scarcely know, for we have no country. Like every one else in such a plight12, we come to England."
"It is my grandfather," she told him. "Together—he and I and my brother—we have passed through terrible times. He has lost all power to sleep at night. In the daytime, when it does not rain, he is wheeled out here, and, if it is only not too cold, then he sleeps as he does now, and I watch."
"You are very young to have charge of him."
She smiled a little pitifully.
"One grows old so quickly in these terrible days! I am already twenty-one. But you," she went on—"see how inquisitive14 I am!—I saw you yesterday from the distance, seated here. There are nursemaids and queer fragments of humanity who seem to pass through these gardens and loiter, and sometimes there are those with affairs who go on their way. But you—what do you think of as you sit there? You are a writer, perhaps?"
He laughed a little harshly. His voice was not altogether pleasant.
"I am a lawyer," he declared, "without a practice. Sometimes the ghosts who call at my empty office stifle15 me and I come out here to escape from them."
"A lawyer? An avocat?" she repeated softly to herself.
Evidently she found something to interest her in the statement. She glanced towards the sleeping man. Then she came a little nearer. He was conscious of a very delightful16 and altogether un-English perfume, aware suddenly that her eyes were the colour of violets, framed underneath17 with deep but not unbecoming lines, that her mouth was curved in a fashion strange to him.
"Englishmen, they say, are so much to be trusted," she murmured, "and a lawyer, too..."
"I am an American by birth," he interposed, "although I have lived over here nearly all my life."
"It is the same thing. We need advice so badly. Let me ask you one question. Is it not the first principle of a lawyer to hold sacred whatever confidence his client may confide10 in him?"
"Absolutely," he assured her.
"Even if that confidence," she persisted, "should bring the person who offered it within the hold of the law?"
"A lawyer may refuse a client," he said, "but he may never betray his confidence."
"Will you tell me your name and address?" she asked eagerly.
"My name is Aaron Rodd," he told her. "My address is number seventeen, Manchester Street, Adelphi, and my office is on the third floor."
"Mr. Aaron Rodd," she repeated, with a queer little foreign intonation18. "That is a strange name and I shall remember it. When might one visit you, monsieur? At three o'clock this afternoon?"
"I shall be in all day."
The old gentleman had opened his eyes and was gazing fretfully about. She crossed the asphalt walk swiftly towards him. An attendant, who seemed to have gone to sleep standing20 on one leg; gripped the handle of the bath-chair. The girl passed her arm around the old man's shoulders and whispered something to the attendant. They passed away together. The little streak of sunshine had gone. Aaron Rodd thrust his ungloved hands into his coat pockets and made his way in the opposite direction....
About an hour later, a small, rubicund22 man, a man whose dark hair was turning grey, but whose eyes were bright and whose complexion23 was remarkably24 healthy, paused before the door-plate of an office building in one of the back streets leading from the Adelphi. He was dressed with extreme neatness, from the tips of his patent boots to his grey felt hat, and he was obviously of a cheerful disposition25. He glanced down the list of names, twirling his cane26 in light-hearted fashion and whistling softly to himself. Suddenly he paused. His cane ceased its aimless configurations27 and rested for a moment upon a name about half-way down the list, the name of Mr. Aaron Rodd, Solicitor28 and Commissioner29 for Oaths. There was also an indication that Mr. Rodd's offices were to be found upon the third floor. His prospective30 visitor glanced around, and, discovering that there was no lift, started out for the stone stairs. On the first landing he encountered a small boy, descending31 with a roll of papers under his arm. Him the new-comer, whose name was Mr. Harvey Grimm, promptly32 addressed.
"My young sir," he said pleasantly, "from the red tape around that bundle of papers which you are carrying, I gather that you have legal connections. You are probably the confidential33 clerk of the gentleman whom I am proposing to visit. Can you tell me, before I attempt another flight of these very dusty and unsympathetic steps, whether Mr. Aaron Rodd is within?"
The boy glanced at his questioner suspiciously.
"I am not in Mr. Rodd's office," he replied. "I'm Steel and Agnett, second floor."
"That," Mr. Harvey Grimm sighed regretfully, "is unfortunate. A very excellent firm yours, my boy. Do not let me any longer interfere34 with your efforts on their behalf."
Aaron Rodd's prospective visitor, with a sigh, recommenced the ascent35. The boy looked after him for a moment dubiously36 and then disappeared. Arrived at the third floor, at the extreme end of the corridor the former discovered a door, on which was painted the name of Mr. Aaron Rodd. He knocked, was bidden to enter, and stepped at once into a single, bald and unpromising-looking apartment.
"Good morning, Aaron!" he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him and advancing across the dusty floor.
Aaron Rodd, who had been seated before a desk, apparently immersed in a legal document, first raised his head and then rose slowly to his feet. His first look of expectancy37, as he had turned towards his visitor, faded by degrees into a very curious expression, an expression which seemed made up of a great deal of amazement38 and a certain amount of dread39. With his left hand he gripped the side of the desk.
"My God!" he exclaimed. "It's Ned——"
His visitor held out his hand.
"No, no, my dear Aaron," he interrupted firmly, "you are deceived by a slight resemblance. You are thinking, probably, of that poor fellow Ned Stiles. You will never see Ned again, Aaron."
The intelligence appeared to cause the listener no grief. Neither did it carry with it any conviction.
"Harvey Grimm is my name," the new-comer went on, "Mr. Harvey Grimm, if you please, of Chicago. You remember me now, without a doubt?"
He extended his hand confidently. His smile was ingratiating, his air that of an ingenuous40 child anxious for a favourable41 reception. Aaron Rodd slowly thrust out his ink-stained fingers.
"I remember you all right," he admitted.
The visitor, having established his identity, seemed disposed to abandon the subject. He glanced around the room, and, discovering a cane-bottomed chair on which were piled some dust-covered documents, he calmly swept them away, annexed42 the chair, which he carefully flicked43 around with a silk handkerchief, and brought it to the side of the desk.
"Sit down, my dear fellow, I beg you," he invited, laying his hat on the floor by his side, hitching44 up his blue serge trousers and smiling in momentary45 satisfaction at his well-polished shoes. "I have appropriated, I fancy, the client's chair. Am I right, I wonder, in presuming that there has not been much use for it lately?"
"Hard times these have been for all of us," Harvey Grimm declared, with an air of placid47 satisfaction. "You are not expecting a client this morning, I presume?"
"Nor a miracle."
"In that case I will smoke," the new-comer continued, producing a small, gold case, selecting a cigarette and lighting48 it. "Try one."
Aaron Rodd hesitated and finally accepted the offer. He smoked with the air of one unused to the indulgence.
"Mr. Harvey Grimm of Chicago," he muttered, studying his visitor's very immaculate appearance. "Haven't I heard the name somewhere, or seen it in the papers lately?"
"Possibly," was the suave49 reply. "My arrival in London has, I think, created some slight interest. Even your press, I find, is not above recording50 the movements of a capitalist."
"A what?"
"A capitalist," Harvey Grimm repeated calmly. "With a name like mine, and an abode51 like Chicago, I am amazed that you did not divine it."
"Seven years ago," Aaron Rodd observed, "we divided seventeen pounds, four shillings and eightpence. It was, I believe, our united capital."
"And to judge by your surroundings," his companion sighed, "I fear, my friend, that you have been emulating52 the man who tied up his talent in a stocking. I, on the other hand——"
"Have changed your name and become a capitalist," Aaron Rodd interrupted drily.
There was a moment's silence. Mr. Harvey Grimm, with the beatific54 smile of opulence55, was whistling softly to himself. His companion's thoughts had apparently travelled back into the past.
"Well," the latter said at last, "I will imitate your candour. The document I was examining with so much interest when you came in, is a seven-year-old lease, long since cancelled. The few black boxes you see around the room are, with one exception, bogus. I sit here from morning till night and nothing happens. I sit here and brood."
"Dear me! Dear me!" his visitor murmured sympathetically.
"By turning my chair around," Aaron Rodd continued, "I can just catch a glimpse of the river across the Gardens there. I sit and watch, wonder whether a tug56 will go past next or a lighter57, watch the people in the gardens, wonder where they are going, why they are loitering, why hurrying. I speculate about the few passers-by down in the street there. Sometimes I close my eyes and I fancy myself in Lincoln's Inn, seated in a padded morocco chair, with a Turkey-carpet on the floor, and rows of boxes, black tin boxes, with wonderful names inscribed58 upon them in white lettering, reaching to the ceiling, and my secretary poring over my engagement book, wondering when it would be possible for me to squeeze in half an hour for an important client."
"Too much of the dreamer about you," Harvey Grimm pronounced. "Perhaps, after all, it is the fault of your work. It's a sedative59 profession, you know, Aaron. It wouldn't suit me to have to sit and wait for clients."
"It's the black bogey60 of my life," the other assented61, with a thin note of passion in his tone. "If only one could get out and work, even if one didn't get a penny for it!"
"And financially?" Harvey Grimm enquired, with an apologetic cough.
"On the rocks," was the bitter reply. "You can understand," he went on, with a heedless sarcasm62, "what a wonderful thing it is for me to welcome a capitalist in my shabby office."
"And an old friend," was the cheerful reminder63. "Come, come, Aaron, we must look into this. I must place some of my affairs in your charge."
Aaron Rodd's lip curled with bitter incredulity.
"Some of your affairs! I had a taste of those in the old days, Ned—I mean Harvey. You brought me to the brink64 of Sing-Sing, you drove me over here to make a fresh start."
Harvey Grimm waved his hand. These reminiscences were indelicate.
"My dear fellow!" he protested. "Now come, answer me a few questions. Such affairs of business as have fallen to your lot have been conducted with—er—discretion?"
"If you mean have I preserved my reputation," the lawyer replied grimly, "I have. I have no temptation to do otherwise."
"That is capital," his friend declared. "That helps us at once. And now, I think," he went on, glancing at his neat little wristwatch, "lunch."
Aaron Rodd's first movement was almost eager. He checked himself, however. Then a glance at his visitor's immaculate toilet and distinctly opulent appearance reassured65 him.
"There will be no trouble, I presume," he said a little diffidently, "as to the settlement of our bill? I warn you before we start that a shilling and a few coppers——"
Harvey Grimm laid his hand almost affectionately upon the other's shoulder.
"My dear Aaron," he expostulated, "you are a little confused. You have not yet taken in the position. A capitalist is, of course, a relative term. I will not press that point. But let me assure you that I have a suite67 of rooms at the Milan, ample credit for any meals I choose to take there, even money to pay for them, if necessary."
"I am not fit to go to the Milan," Aaron Rodd muttered, brushing himself vigorously.
"That is entirely68 your mistake," his friend replied, rising to his feet and lighting another cigarette. "A judicious69 shabbiness is to-day an approved form of eccentricity70. With your ascetic71 face, my dear Aaron, that little wisp of black tie, your clean but frayed72 collar, your sombre, well-worn clothes, you would be mistaken by the casual observer for either a Chancery lawyer with an indifferent housekeeper73, or a writer of dramatic blank verse, which every one admires but no one buys. Reassure66 yourself, Aaron. I predict that as a companion you will do me every credit."
For the first time a grim, hard smile parted the lips of the man who was making out with rather weary fingers the accustomed card to affix74 to his door.
"And why not adventurer?" Harvey Grimm protested, as they descended76 the stone steps. "We are all needy, that is to say we all need something or other, and we all—those of us who understand life, at any rate—seek adventures. Even with the success I have myself attained—I will be quite frank with you, my dear Aaron—I am entirely unchanged. I can assure you that I am not above finding interest and pleasure, as well as profit, in any adventure which may come to hand."
"I can well believe it," he murmured.
They strolled up the street, a somewhat curiously78 assorted79 couple. Mr. Harvey Grimm's grey felt hat, his neat and somewhat jaunty80 figure, rather suggested the successful trainer of careful habits, or elderly jockey enjoying the opulence of middle age. Aaron Rodd, on the other hand, looked exactly what he was—the lean and hungry professional man with whom the times have gone ill.
"Queer neighbourhood, this, you've chosen for your office, Aaron," his friend remarked, pausing as they neared the corner. "What sort of people come into these parts, anyway?"
"It's just a backwater. There's the broad stream of London flowing on to success and prosperity a few yards up the hill. If you listen for a moment you can hear it. These little streets are just parasitical81 branches, still alive and still struggling, but fit for nothing but to be snapped off. All the furtive82 businesses in the world might be conducted behind these silent, unwashed windows and blank doorways—shabby theatrical83 agencies, doubtful publications, betting offices of poor reputation. People come here to hide or to escape notice. There was a murder committed down by the railings at the end of the street, only a year or so ago."
"Obviously," Harvey Grimm remarked cheerfully, "the region of melancholia and tragedies. We must see how things go, Aaron. Perhaps, later on, it would be as well for you to move to a better-known part. Just at present, however, it is well enough."
The tall young man looked down at his companion half derisively84, half eagerly. He knew him too well to ask many questions, knew him too well to hope unduly85, knew, too, the danger into which this simple luncheon86 might lead him. Yet only a few nights ago he had thought of the river! It was better to take luncheon with Harvey Grimm at the Milan than to feel the black waters sucking his breath away!
*****
"Feeling better, Aaron?" Harvey Grimm enquired of his friend, about an hour and a half later.
Aaron Rodd was both feeling and looking better and acknowledged the fact. His manner towards his host, too, showed signs of a subtle change. The latter was obviously persona grata in the restaurant. Their table, although a little retired87, was in a coveted88 corner, and attentions of every sort had been respectfully offered them. Nevertheless, his guest felt some sense of relief when he saw the bill signed with a little flourish and accepted with a low bow by their waiter. Harvey Grimm leaned back in his chair and removed the cigar for a moment from his lips.
"You've no faith in me, Aaron," he declared, with an encouraging smile. "That's what you always lacked, even in the old days—faith. You're losing touch with the world, you know, cooped up in that musty office of yours. You don't expect anything to happen to you so long as you grub away there, do you?"
"Nothing has happened, at any rate," Aaron Rodd admitted.
"I will not say that it is your fault," his companion continued tolerantly. "You are by nature of a meditative89 and retiring temperament90. It is a piece of extraordinarily91 good fortune for you that I never forget old friends."
"Have you anything to propose to me?" Aaron Rodd asked bluntly.
His host leaned across the table.
"Always so downright, my dear Aaron," he murmured, "so material! However, you have asked the question and here is my answer. I am proposing to remain in London for some little time. There are various schemes which have suggested themselves to me, which might readily lead to an enlargement of my income. For their prosecution92, my dear Aaron, I need one, only one companion whom I can trust, one man who is out for the big things. That is why I come to you. I offer you a partnership93 in the concern—Harvey Grimm and Rodd, Traffickers in Fate, Dealers94 in Adventures. How your hand shakes, man! There, you've dropped the ash from your cigar!"
Aaron Rodd's thin lips were quivering. His eyes seemed full of unutterable things.
"I have made such a fight of it," he muttered. "You've got me, though, Harvey. I've eaten my last crust. I should have had to sell my office stool for a meal to-morrow."
"My dear Aaron," he protested, "such a confession96 from a man of brains, when one considers how the world is overrun with fools, is a terrible one."
"One has a conscience," Rodd sighed, "and a profession like mine doesn't lend itself to crooked97 dealing98."
Harvey Grimm smiled tolerantly. He had the air of one listening to a child.
"The wolves of the world," he said, "keep their conscience, and as regards wrong-doing, it's just success that makes the difference.... My dear fellow!" he broke off, looking up into the face of a man who had paused at their table and whose hand was now reposing99 heavily upon his shoulder. "My dear Brodie, this is most opportune100. Let me present you to my friend, Mr. Aaron Rodd. Aaron, this is Mr. Brodie—in the language of the cinemas," he added, dropping his voice a little and leaning forward, "the sleuthhound of Europe, the greatest living detective."
Aaron Rodd sat for a moment motionless, the cigar slipped from his fingers on to the plate. All his new hopes seemed crumbling101 away. His eyes were fixed102 upon the hand which gripped his companion's shoulder. Harvey Grimm began to laugh softly.
"Cheer up, my pessimistic friend!" he exclaimed. "This isn't the grip of the law which is upon my shoulder. Mr. Brodie and I are friends—I might even say allies."
Aaron Rodd recovered himself and murmured a few words of mechanical greeting. The new-comer meanwhile took the chair which the waiter had offered him. He was a tall, burly man, clean-shaven, with steely grey eyes, and grey hair brushed back from his forehead. His manner was consequential103, his tone patronising.
"So this is our third hand, eh?"
"Guessed it in one with your usual astuteness," Harvey Grimm acknowledged cheerfully. "A lawyer of unblemished character, not momentarily affluent104, with the principles of a latitudinarian."
"Has he got the nerve?" Mr. Brodie demanded. "If we are on the right track, there's no room for weaklings in the job."
"Aaron Rodd's all right," his friend declared confidently. "You leave that to me. I'll answer for him."
The younger man leaned across the table.
"Do I understand," he enquired, "that our enterprise is on the side of the law?"
Harvey Grimm smiled.
"The present one, my dear Aaron. I should explain to you, perhaps, that Mr. Brodie is not officially attached either to Scotland Yard or to Police Headquarters in New York. He spent some years at Scotland Yard and, having the good luck to inherit a small fortune, and feeling himself handicapped by the antiquated105 methods and jealousies106 of his competitors, he decided107 to strike out for himself as an independent investigator108. Some day he will tell us a few of his adventures."
"I have hunted criminals," he asserted, "in every quarter of the world. I have methods of my own. I have a genius for making use of people."
"So you see, my dear Aaron," Harvey Grimm pointed110 out, "at present Mr. Brodie and I are the greatest of friends. He recognises the fact that I am what is baldly spoken of as an adventurer, and that the time may come when we shall find ourselves in opposite camps, but just at present it is our privilege to be of service to Mr. Brodie."
Then a thing, ordinary enough in its way, happened in a curious manner. Mr. Brodie was a large man but he seemed suddenly to fade away. There was his empty chair and a dim vision of a retreating figure behind one of the central sideboards. Aaron Rodd seemed dimly conscious of a look of warning flashed between the two men, but nothing equal to the swift secrecy112 of Mr. Brodie's movements had ever confused his senses. Harvey Grimm leaned across the table, holding his liqueur glass in his hand.
"Slick fellow, Brodie," he murmured. "No good his being seen talking to us when the quarry's about, eh? Nice brandy, this. On the dry side, perhaps, but with a flavour to it."
Aaron Rodd understood that he was to ask no questions and he discussed the subject of brandy in a sufficiently113 ignorant manner. He, too, however, within the course of the next few seconds, found need for the exercise of all his powers of self-control. Only a few yards away from him was a young man in some foreign uniform, with his arm in a sling114, discussing with a ma?tre d'h?tel as to the locality of his table. By his side was the girl with whom he had talked that morning in the Embankment Gardens, and behind the two, a somewhat pathetic picture, was the old man, his face as withered115 as parchment, his narrow white beard carefully trimmed, leaning heavily upon a stick. Almost as he realised their presence they moved on, escorted by the ma?tre d'h?tel to a table in a distant corner. Aaron Rodd drew a long breath as they disappeared. His companion looked at him curiously.
"Are those the people," the lawyer asked eagerly, "on whose account Brodie moved away?"
Harvey Grimm watched them settle in their places.
"They are," he admitted. "A pathetic-looking trio! ... And, now, my dear Aaron," he went on, "we will discuss your little adventure in the Embankment Gardens this morning. You perceive that the moment is appropriate."
"My little adventure?" Aaron Rodd repeated blankly. "Why—you mean to say you were there, then? You saw her speak to me?"
"Certainly! I was seated a little further down, talking with my friend Mr. Brodie. We had our eyes upon the young lady."
Aaron Rodd felt a sudden disinclination to speak of that little gleam of sunshine.
"She spoke111 to me quite casually," he declared. "Afterwards she asked me my profession. I told her that I was a lawyer. Perhaps she had already guessed it. I suppose I do rather look the part."
"You do indeed, my friend! And then?"
The younger man hesitated. His partner's benevolent116 face suddenly assumed a sterner aspect.
"Aaron," he reminded him, "we are on business. The truth, please—no reservations."
"She asked me," the other went on, "whether the confidence of a client is always respected by one in my profession."
"And your reply?"
"I assured her, of course, that under any circumstances it was."
Harvey Grimm leaned back in his chair. He rolled the remaining drop of brandy around in his glass, his expression was beatific.
"My dear Aaron," he said, "fate smiles upon our new partnership. The young lady is going to pay you a visit?"
"At three o'clock this afternoon, if she keeps her word."
"Finish your brandy and come with me to my apartment," Harvey Grimm directed. "We have matters to discuss and arrange before you receive that visit."
*****
An hour or so later, Aaron Rodd was seated once more before his dilapidated, ink-stained desk. The gloom of the winter afternoon was only partly dissipated by the single gas-jet burning above his head. The same old lease was spread out underneath his hands. In his face, however, there was a distinct change. The listlessness had gone. He had the air of one awaiting events. So he had sat for the last half-hour, with his eyes fixed alternately upon the outside door, purposely left ajar, and the inner one which led to his humble117 bed-sitting-room.
There came at last the sound for which he had been waiting. Up that last flight of stone stairs he could hear distinctly the slow movement of weary footsteps, the continual tapping of a stick, the occasional cough and querulous complaint of a tired old man, and by the side of those shuffling118 footsteps, others, marvellously light, the swish of a silken skirt, the music of a clear, very sweet young voice.
"You see, we are arrived," she was saying. "There is the name upon the door. You will be able to sit down directly. Courage, dear grandfather. Remember it is for Leopold's sake."
Then there followed a gentle knock, the somewhat hesitating entrance of the two, the half-doubtful look of the girl towards the tall, gaunt young man whose face seemed almost saturnine119 underneath that unshaded light. As he moved forward, however, she recognised him, and a smile of relief parted her lips.
"Ah! it is Mr. Rodd, is it not—the gentleman with whom I spoke in the Gardens this morning—the lawyer?"
He bowed. Anxiety made his voice sound even harsher. Many things had happened since the morning.
"You have kept your promise, then," he remarked. "You have come to consult me. I am at your service. One moment."
He brought two of the chairs which stood stiffly against the wall, and placed them by the side of his desk. The old man sat down with an air of relief. The passage up the stairs had apparently exhausted him.
"We are very haphazard120 clients, I fear, Mr. Rodd," he said wearily. "This is unfortunately one of my bad days. I must leave my granddaughter to explain the reason of our visit, and in what manner we hope to be able to make use of your services."
"If I do so, grandfather," she said, turning a little towards him, "I am going to tell the whole truth."
"If it must be," he murmured uneasily.
The girl took up at once the burden of explanation.
"My grandfather, my brother and myself," she began, "are staying at the Milan Hotel. We make use of a name, the name of Brinnen, to which we have some right, even though it may be a shadowy one. We happen to be Belgians by birth, a fact which at the present moment makes our position easier. To be honest with you, however, my brother has just returned from America. He has been engaged for some time in more hazardous121 enterprises, even, than defending his country against the Germans."
The old man interrupted her impatiently.
"These explanations are waste of time," he insisted. "Tell this gentleman quickly what we desire of him."
She patted his hand and glanced half apologetically across at Aaron Rodd. He had resumed his seat before his desk, his face half hidden by his hand. Listening to the girl's voice, he had become conscious of a long-forgotten sentiment. Encumbered122 though she was with a difficult mission, there was a certain fineness of speech and manner, an appeal for sympathy in even this last gesture, which he found strangely disturbing.
"You need explain to me no more than you wish," he told her, a little stiffly. "I shall be glad to be of any service to you. There is no need for you to enter into any painful details."
"You and my grandfather are of one mind," she remarked. "Then I will make a confession which may sound abrupt but which is nevertheless true. We three—my brother, my grandfather and myself—are not entitled to the sympathy we receive. We are, to a certain extent, impostors. Is your standard of morals a very high one, Mr. Rodd?"
"I—I scarcely really know," he stammered124. "As a lawyer I am brought into contact with all conditions of people. I have before now done my best for the criminal as I have for the honest man."
"It is reassuring," she admitted. "Behold125, then, my full confession. You have to do now with criminals—or may I say adventurers? We have, we three, to dispose of secretly a very large amount of precious stones. I have come to you for advice. The ordinary avenues of sale are closed to us. How can we get into touch with some one who will buy them and ask no questions?"
Aaron Rodd was conscious of a little shock. Up to this last moment he had been doubtful. Notwithstanding the story which had been unfolded to him by Harvey Grimm, he had clung to his first impressions, impressions from which he was parting now with dire21 reluctance126.
"It is not an easy matter," he admitted, "but if anyone can help you, I can."
The girl nodded.
"There must be secrecy," she declared. "You see, my brother is, in a way, notorious. He has been very daring and very successful. For the sake of those who buy them, as well as for our own sake, the jewels must not be recognised afterwards.
"I have a friend who might arrange it," Aaron Rodd announced. "I must warn you, however, that selling your stones in this way you cannot possibly receive their full value."
"My friend could doubtless manage that," the lawyer declared.
"When can we see him?" the girl asked eagerly.
"At once," was the prompt reply. "He was with me when you came and I sent him into my private apartments. If it is your wish, I will fetch him."
"By all means," the old man insisted eagerly.
"Yes, yes!" the girl echoed.
Aaron Rodd rose to his feet and crossed the room to the door which led into his private apartment. He opened it and beckoned128 to its unseen occupant.
"I have some clients here who would like a word with you, Grimm," he announced. "There may, perhaps, be some business."
Harvey Grimm made his appearance at once. His air of curiosity, as he looked into the room, was very well done.
"Business?" he repeated.
"This gentleman and young lady," Aaron Rodd explained, "are clients of mine. Their names are unnecessary. They have consulted me as to the disposal of valuable jewels, their claim to which—might be open to question."
Harvey Grimm threw the cigar which he had been smoking into the fire-place.
"I see," he murmured. "Better tell me the circumstances."
The girl repeated her story, with a few more details. The old man listened in a sort of placid stupor129. He interrupted only once.
"It is a foolish way, this. There is a man in Amsterdam——"
"You will tell me what you advise, monsieur," the girl begged. "We must have money, and the jewels must be made unrecognisable."
Harvey Grimm took a small magnifying glass from his pocket and screwed it together.
"You have probably brought some of the stones with you," he observed briskly.
The girl hesitated. She turned to her companion as though for guidance. He was still mumbling130 to himself, however, something about Amsterdam.
"It is absolutely essential," Harvey Grimm continued, "that I should know something definite about the character of the stones you have to offer—that is if you wish me to deal with them."
There was a brief silence. Then the girl rose to her feet and deliberately131 turned away from the three men for several moments. When she swung around again, she held in her hand a small chamois leather bag. Very carefully she opened and shook out its contents into the palm of Harvey Grimm's outstretched hand.
"The large one," she said simply, "belonged to an American millionaire. My brother says that it is worth twenty thousand pounds. He, too, is a wonderful judge of precious stones."
The old man seemed to wake up for a moment.
They all three bent134 over the little collection of jewels. Aaron Rodd's expression was one of simple curiosity. His knowledge of diamonds was nil135. His partner's manner, on the other hand, underwent a curious change. There was a hard glitter in his eyes and unsuspected lines about his mouth. The atmosphere of the little room had become charged with new forces. The girl's face was tense with excitement, the old man seemed suddenly and subtly different.
"Do not waste time," the former begged, a little feverishly136. "It is not safe to bring these jewels into the daylight, even here. If you will buy, state your price. Give us an idea. We can meet again, perhaps."
Harvey Grimm turned towards them.
"The small stones are negligible," he pronounced. "The large stone is worth quite as much as you say. To cut it up, however, and then sell it in a secret market, is another thing. The most you could hope for would be five thousand pounds."
The girl's face was a little vague.
"Tell me," she enquired, "in English money how much is that a year?"
"Two hundred and fifty pounds."
"So that if there were ten stones like that," she went on, a little wistfully, "that would be an income of two thousand, two hundred and fifty pounds. One could live comfortably on that? One could hide somewhere in a quiet country place and live like gentlefolk?"
"Certainly," Harvey Grimm assured her.
She turned a little doubtfully towards her companion.
"I am afraid," she sighed, "that grandfather is almost past realising what money means. In any case, we must consult my brother."
Then there came without warning an interruption which seemed equally startling to all of them. Without any preliminary summons, the door of the office was thrown open. The detective, Brodie, followed by a man in plain clothes out with an unmistakably professional appearance, entered the room. The latter closed the door behind him. Brodie approached the little group. The girl's eyes were lit with terror. Harvey Grimm dropped his handkerchief over the jewels, whilst his partner stepped forward. Aaron Rodd's tone was harsh with anxiety, his face seemed more drawn137 than ever.
"What do you want here?" he demanded.
Mr. Brodie smiled tolerantly. His eyes were fixed upon the table. He pushed the questioner on one side and lifted the handkerchief which Harvey Grimm had thrown over the diamonds. Then he turned towards his companion with a little cry of triumph.
"That," he declared, pointing to the jewel upon the table, "is one of the Van Hutten diamonds."
"I do not understand," the girl said quietly enough, although she was shaking from head to foot. "It belongs to us. It is the property of——"
"Cut it out," Brodie interrupted brusquely. "We'll talk to you, young lady, at police head-quarters."
The girl turned to Aaron Rodd.
"Who is this man, and what does he want?" she cried. "Is this a trap into which you have drawn us? Is it a crime, here in England, then, to offer jewels for sale?"
The man in plain clothes stepped forward and took command of the situation.
"My instructions are," he announced politely, "to ask you both to come with me to the police-station."
The old gentleman simply looked dazed. He rose to his feet obediently and turned towards the girl. She patted his arm reassuringly140, but there was a look in her face which brought a sob7 into Aaron Rodd's throat. He was filled all the time with a silent fury. He cursed the moment which had taken him into the Embankment Gardens, which had brought Harvey Grimm once more into his life. The single look which the girl had flashed upon him was like a dagger141 in his heart.
Brodie had replaced the diamonds, one by one, in the little bag. He handed them over to his companion and motioned them all towards the door. The old gentleman moved wearily along, leaning upon his granddaughter's arm. Aaron Rodd hurried forward and opened the door. He tried to say something, but the girl turned from him contemptuously. He stood on the threshold, listening to their slow footsteps as they descended into the street. Then he swung back into the room, slammed the door and sank into the chair in front of his desk. It was as though he had passed through some terrible nightmare. He sat gazing out through the shadows. Had it all really happened? Then he caught a faint, unfamiliar142 breath of perfume which suddenly set his heart beating with unaccustomed vigour143. A little morsel144 of white lace lay underneath the chair upon which she had been seated. He stooped and picked it up, smoothed it out, and let it slip from his fingers almost in despair. It was all true, then! She had sat in that chair, had come to his office, trusting him, had walked into the Harvey-Grimm-cum-Brodie trap!
*****
It was an hour or more before Harvey Grimm returned. He closed the door after him and came briskly across the floor.
"Well, young fellow," he exclaimed, "you can't say that I haven't fished you out of the backwaters."
"I wish to God you'd left me there!" was the bitter reply. "Tell me what's happened to her?"
"To her?—oh, the young lady!" Harvey Grimm murmured, with an illuminating145 smile. "She's all right. She's back at the Milan by this time."
"They couldn't identify the diamond, then?" Aaron Rodd asked eagerly.
"Not by a long chalk," was the smiling reply. "To tell you the truth, Brodie's about the sickest man in London just now. The stone he rolled out in front of the expert they had waiting down at Scotland Yard was——"
"Was what?"
"A lump of paste," Harvey Grimm declared, lighting a cigarette. "Queer business, eh?"
"There's no charge against the old gentleman and his granddaughter, then?" Aaron Rodd demanded breathlessly.
"None whatever. Why not try a cigarette, Aaron? You're all nerves."
The lawyer pushed the box away from him.
"You may think this sort of thing's worth while," he declared gloomily. "I can't say that I do. There'll be no reward to share, and it seems to me that we've made an enemy——"
"There's no reward," Harvey Grimm agreed, "but there's this."
He drew his handkerchief from his pocket. A diamond almost as large as a cobnut rolled over and lay upon the desk. Aaron Rodd stared at it in amazement.
"What's that?" he demanded.
"One of the Van Hutten diamonds," was the triumphant146 reply. "Look at it well. You won't see it again. By this time to-morrow it will have been cut."
Aaron Rodd was stupefied. He looked from the stone up to his companion's face. Even his demand for some elucidation147 was mute.
"I had the duplicate ready," Harvey Grimm explained. "That was my game. I changed them underneath my handkerchief. It was perfectly easy. They've got the imitation one at police head-quarters and they aren't feeling particularly pleased with themselves. That fellow Brodie is about the bummest detective who ever crossed the Atlantic."
Aaron Rodd was sitting transfixed. His fingers were shaking as they beat upon the desk.
"My God," he exclaimed as light streamed in upon him, "we're thieves!"
"Don't talk like a fool," the other admonished148. "It's a fair enough game between crooks149. We've stolen a stolen jewel, and by doing it we've saved the girl and her grandfather and her brother, too, from gaol150. That's fair do's, isn't it? When I've finished with that, there'll be a matter of three or four thousand pounds for us to divide. What about it, eh?"
He swept the jewel back into his pocket. Aaron Rodd's fingers were still idly beating upon the desk. The walls of his dusty, bare apartment had fallen away, the thrall151 of his sordid152 poverty lay no longer like a dead weight upon his spirits. Three or four thousand pounds to divide!
"What you need," Harvey Grimm declared briskly, handing him his hat, "is a drink. Come right along."
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收听单词发音
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1
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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2
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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3
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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4
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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5
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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6
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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7
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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8
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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9
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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10
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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11
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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12
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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13
enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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14
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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15
stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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16
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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17
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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18
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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19
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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20
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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21
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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22
rubicund
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| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
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23
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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24
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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25
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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26
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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27
configurations
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| n.[化学]结构( configuration的名词复数 )；构造；（计算机的）配置；构形（原子在分子中的相对空间位置） | |
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28
solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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29
commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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30
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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31
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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32
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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33
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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34
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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35
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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36
dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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37
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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38
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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39
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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40
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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41
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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42
annexed
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| [法] 附加的，附属的 | |
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43
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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44
hitching
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| 搭乘； （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的现在分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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45
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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46
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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47
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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48
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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49
suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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50
recording
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| n.录音，记录 | |
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51
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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52
emulating
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| v.与…竞争( emulate的现在分词 )；努力赶上；计算机程序等仿真；模仿 | |
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53
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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54
beatific
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| adj.快乐的，有福的 | |
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55
opulence
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| n.财富，富裕 | |
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56
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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57
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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58
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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59
sedative
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| adj.使安静的，使镇静的；n. 镇静剂，能使安静的东西 | |
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60
bogey
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| n.令人谈之变色之物；妖怪，幽灵 | |
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61
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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63
reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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64
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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65
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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66
reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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67
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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68
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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69
judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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70
eccentricity
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| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
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71
ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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72
frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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74
affix
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| n.附件，附录 vt.附贴，盖(章)，签署 | |
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75
needy
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| adj.贫穷的，贫困的，生活艰苦的 | |
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76
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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77
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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79
assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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80
jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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81
parasitical
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| adj. 寄生的(符加的) | |
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82
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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83
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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84
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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85
unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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86
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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87
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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88
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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89
meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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90
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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91
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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92
prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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93
partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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94
dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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95
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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96
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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97
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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98
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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100
opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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101
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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102
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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103
consequential
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| adj.作为结果的，间接的；重要的 | |
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104
affluent
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| adj.富裕的，富有的，丰富的，富饶的 | |
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105
antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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106
jealousies
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| n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 )；妒羡 | |
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107
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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108
investigator
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| n.研究者，调查者，审查者 | |
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109
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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111
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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112
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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113
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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114
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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115
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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116
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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117
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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118
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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119
saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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120
haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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121
hazardous
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| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
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122
encumbered
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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123
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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124
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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126
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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127
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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128
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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130
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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131
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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132
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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133
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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134
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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135
nil
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| n.无，全无，零 | |
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136
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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137
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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138
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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139
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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140
reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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141
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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142
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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143
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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144
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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145
illuminating
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| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
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146
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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147
elucidation
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| n.说明，阐明 | |
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148
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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149
crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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150
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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151
thrall
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| n.奴隶；奴隶制 | |
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152
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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