They took no notice of Timothy until the train drew out and he wondered what their game was. It was hardly likely that they would start any rough work with him after their experience of the morning and less likely because these boat trains were well policed.
Clear of the Riverside Station the smooth Englishman leant forward.
“I hope, Mr. Anderson,” he said, “that you will forget and forgive.”
“Surely,” said Timothy, “I have nothing to forgive.”
“My friend,” said Mr. Brown with a smile, “is very precipitate—which means hasty,” he explained.
A spasm4 contorted the features of Mr. Chelwyn, but he said nothing. As for Brown, he laughed. He laughed heartily5 but spuriously.
“That’s not a bad joke,” he said, “but to tell you the truth, we mistook you for—one of us, and my friend and I thought it would be a good joke to get the better of you.”
“And was it?” asked Timothy.
“It was and it wasn’t,” said Mr. Brown, not easily nonplussed6. “Of course, we intended restoring the money to you before you left the ship.”
“Naturally,” said Timothy. “I never thought you would do anything else.”
“Only you know you rather spoilt our little esprit.”
“If the conversation is to develop in a foreign language,” said Timothy, “I would only remark: Honi soit qui mal y pense,” and the polite Mr. Brown laughed again.
“You do not mind if my friend and I have a little quiet game by ourselves, if,” he said humorously, “we swindle one another.”
“Not at all,” said Timothy. “I have no objection to watching, but if,” he said cheerfully, “you should suddenly draw my attention whilst your friend’s head is turned, to the ease with which I could win a hundred pounds by picking the lady, or discovering the little pea under the little shell, or show me a way of getting rich from any of the other devices which the children of the public schools find so alluring7 at the country fair, I shall be under the painful necessity of slapping you violently on the wrist.”
Thereafter the conversation languished8 until the train had run through Crewe and was approaching Rugby. It was here that Mr. Brown stopped in the midst of a long, learned discussion on English politics to offer his cigarette-case to Timothy. Timothy chose a cigarette and put it in his pocket.
“Best for you or best for me?” asked Timothy.
“Bah!” It was the red-haired Chelwyn who addressed him for the first time. “What have you to be afraid of? You’re as scared as a cat! Do you think we want to poison you?”
Mr. Brown produced a flask10 and poured a modicum11 of whisky into the cup and handed it to his companion, then he drank himself. Then, without invitation he poured a little more into the cup and offered it to Timothy.
“Let bygones be bygones,” he said.
“I have no desire to be a bygone,” said Timothy, “I would much rather be a herenow.”
“Butyl chloride,” he said, “has a distinctive13 odour. I suppose you don’t call it by its technical name, and to you it is just vulgarly ‘a knock-out drop.’ Really,” he said, handing back the cup, “you boys are so elementary. Where did you learn it all—from the movies?”
“Sit down,” said Timothy sharply, and with a jerk of his hand he flung open the carriage door.
The men shrank back at the sight of the rapidly running line, and at the certainty of death which awaited any who left the train on that side of the carriage.
“Start something,” said Timothy, “and I’ll undertake to put either one or both of you on to the line. We’re going at about sixty miles an hour, and a fellow that went out there wouldn’t be taking a chance. Now is there going to be a rough house?”
Timothy swung the door to and the man moved up towards him.
“Now, I’m just going to put it to you plainly,” said Brown. “We’ve made the voyage out to the Cape16 and the voyage back and the only mug we met was you. What we won from you just about paid our expenses, and I’m putting it to you, as a sportsman and a gentleman, that you should let us have half of that stuff back.”
“The sportsman in me admires your nerve,” said Timothy, “but I suppose it is the gentleman part that returns an indignant ‘No!’ to your interesting observation.”
Brown turned to his companion.
“Well, that’s that, Len,” he said, “you’ll just have to let the money go. It is a pity,” he said wistfully and his companion grunted17.
That ended the conversation so far as the journey was concerned, and Timothy heard no more until he was in the gloomy courtyard at Euston Station and stepping into his taxi.
To his surprise it was the red-haired man who approached him, and something in his manner prevented Timothy from taking the action which he otherwise would have thought necessary.
“Look here, young fellow,” he said, “you watch Brown—he’s wild.”
“You’re not exactly tame,” smiled Timothy.
“Don’t take any notice of me,” said the man a little bitterly. “I am engaged in the rough work. I should have got two hundred out of your money—that’s what made me so wild. Brown paid all my expenses and gives me ten pound a week and a commission. It sounds funny to you, doesn’t it, but it is the truth,” and somehow Timothy knew that the man was not lying.
“He’s finished with me—says I am a hoodoo,” said the little man. “Do you know what I’ve got out of five weeks’ work? Look!”
He held out his hand and disclosed two ten-pound notes.
“Brown’s dangerous,” he warned Timothy. “Don’t you make any mistake about that. I was only wild because I was losing my money, but he’s wild because you’ve got fresh with him and caught him out every time. Good night!”
“Here, wait,” said Timothy.
He felt in his pocket.
“If you’re lying, it is a plausible18 lie and one that pleases me,” he said. “This will salve my conscience.”
He slipped two notes into the man’s hands.
Chelwyn was speechless for a moment. Then he asked:
“And where are you staying in London, Mr. Anderson?”
“At the Brussell Hotel.”
“At the Brussell Hotel,” repeated the other, “I’ll remember that. I shall hear if anything is going on and I’ll ’phone you. You’re a gentleman, Mr. Anderson.”
“So Mr. Brown said,” remarked Timothy and drove off, feeling unusually cheerful.
If Timothy could be cheerful under the depressing conditions which prevailed on the night of his arrival in London, he was a veritable pattern of cheer. A drizzling19 rain was falling as the taxi squeaked20 its way through a labyrinth21 of mean streets. He had glimpses of wretched-looking people, grotesque22 of shape and unreal, through the rain-blurred window of the cab.
Then suddenly the character of the streets changed, and he was in a broad street twinkling with light. There was a glimpse of trees, wide open spaces, dotted with light. The street grew busier and the traffic thicker, then suddenly the cab turned again into semi-darkness and pulled up before the hotel.
A porter opened the door.
“What do I think of Madeira?” asked Timothy of the astonished man. “I haven’t had time to think. Will I be staying long in London? No. What are my opinions of the political crisis which has arisen in my absence? I would rather not say.”
It takes a great deal to upset the equilibrium23 of a well-conducted hall man.
“Have you booked your room?” he asked.
He woke to a London much more beautiful, to a vista25 of old-world buildings such as Cruikshank loved to draw, to a green square and glimpses of greener trees.
Mary was staying at the Carlton, but he had arranged to meet her for lunch. He had not arranged to meet her dragon, but he knew she would be there. He had breakfasted, and was on the point of leaving the hotel, when Chelwyn came.
To say that Timothy regretted his generosity26 of the night before would be to do him an injustice27. Nevertheless, he had some misgivings28 as to whether he had not been a little too generous. The appearance of Mr. Chelwyn, early in the morning, looking so spruce and confident, was in itself a suspicious happening, though events proved that the suspicion was unfounded.
“Can I see you alone for a moment, Mr. Anderson?” asked the red-haired man.
Timothy hesitated.
“Come along to the drawing-room,” he said.
It was the one public room which would be empty at that time of the morning. Mr. Chelwyn deposited his hat and stick and brand-new yellow gloves before he spoke29.
“Now, Mr. Anderson, I’ve come to tell you a few facts which will surprise you.”
“You haven’t had a gold brick sent to you by your Uncle George in Alaska, have you?” asked Timothy dubiously30. “Because I’m not buying that kind of fact.”
The man smiled and shook his head.
“It is hardly likely I should try that stuff on you, sir,” he said. “No, this is a much more serious matter. Before I go any farther I’ll tell you that I am not asking for money. I am grateful to you for what you did to me last night, Mr. Anderson. A crook2 has a wife and children the same as anybody else. I have been in this funny business for ten years, but now I’m out of it for good.” He looked round and dropped his voice, “Mr. Anderson, I told you last night that we’ve been five or six weeks away from England. Didn’t that sound strange to you?”
“Not to me,” said Timothy.
“That is because you don’t know the game,” said the man. “As a rule, when we’re working these liners, we go out to Cape Town and come back by the next ship that sails. What do you think we stayed at Funchal for—there’s no money in short voyages—it’s all on the long run from Madeira to Cape Town.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Timothy wearily. “I don’t even remember seeing you in Funchal——”
“We laid low,” interrupted the man.
“That may be, but if you’ve come to tell me the interesting story of your life, Ginger31, I beg that you will cut it short—the history, I mean, not necessarily your life.”
“Well, I’ll tell it to you as quickly as possible,” said the man. “I don’t always work with Brown. In fact, I’ve only worked with him about three times before. I’m not as good a man with the broads——”
“The broads?” said the puzzled Timothy.
“With the cards,” corrected the man. “I say that I’m not as good a man with the broads as some of the others. I’ve got a bit of a reputation for scrapping32. I’ve never left a pal33 in the lurch34 and I’ve always been ready for any ‘rough house’ that came along. About two months ago Brown sent for me—he’s got a flat off Piccadilly and lives like a lord. He told me he was going to Madeira on a special job, that he’d been employed by a lady in Paris—a Madame Serpilot (you’d better write that down in your pocket-book)—to shepherd a young lady who was coming over. Mind you, there was no harm intended to the young lady, but the general idea was that she might be accompanied by a man, and he was the fellow who had to be looked after.”
“What was the lady’s name?” asked Timothy quickly.
“Miss Maxell,” said the man without hesitation35, “and you were the fellow we were asked to put out of business. Brown’s idea was to break you; then, when you got to London, one of his pals36 would have met you and offered to lend you money. They’d have framed up a charge against you of obtaining money by false pretences37, and you would have been pinched.”
“Was this Mrs. Serpilot’s plan?” he asked, but the man shook his head.
“No, sir, she gave just the details to Brown. She never said what was to be done to you, according to him, but you were to be stopped going around with the young lady.”
“Who is Madame Serpilot?”
“There you’ve got me,” said Chelwyn. “I believe she’s an old widow, but Brown never told me much about her. He got instructions from her while he was in Paris, but I never discovered how. I went to Madeira with him because he knew I was tough—but I wasn’t tough enough,” he added with a dry smile.
Timothy held out his hand.
“Ginger,” he said solemnly, “please forgive the orange!”
“Oh, I didn’t mind that,” said the man, “that’s all in the day’s work. It made me a bit wild, and my eye’s feeling sore, but don’t let that worry you. What you’ve got to do now is to look out for Brown, because he’ll have you as sure as death.”
“I’ll look out for Madame Serpilot, too,” said Timothy. “I think I’ll go to Paris.”
“She’s not in Paris now, I can tell you that,” said the man. “The wire Brown got at Liverpool was from Monte Carlo.”
“Monte Carlo,” said Timothy, “is even more attractive than Paris.”
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1
compartments
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| n.间隔( compartment的名词复数 )；（列车车厢的）隔间；（家具或设备等的）分隔间；隔层 | |
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2
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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3
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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4
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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5
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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6
nonplussed
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| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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8
languished
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| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
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9
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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10
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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11
modicum
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| n.少量，一小份 | |
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12
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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13
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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14
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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15
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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16
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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17
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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18
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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19
drizzling
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| 下蒙蒙细雨，下毛毛雨( drizzle的现在分词 ) | |
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20
squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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21
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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22
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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23
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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25
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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26
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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27
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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28
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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29
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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30
dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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31
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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32
scrapping
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| 刮，切除坯体余泥 | |
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33
pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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34
lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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35
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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36
pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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37
pretences
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| n.假装( pretence的名词复数 )；作假；自命；自称 | |
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38
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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