An hour later she came from tennis, to find her father obviously bored almost to the point of tears, yet making an heroic attempt to appear interested in Malcolm's enthusiastic dissertation1 of the future of the oil industry. The Grand Duke rose gladly on her appearance, and handed him over.
"I have persuaded Mr. Hay to dine with us to-night, and I have sent to the hotel for his baggage. He is most entertaining, my little love, most entertaining. Persuade him to talk to you about--er--oil and things," and he hurriedly withdrew.
The girl sat down on the seat he had vacated.
"You're a most amazing person, Mr. Hay," she smiled.
"So I have been told," said Malcolm, as he filled a glass with tea from the samovar.
"You have also a good opinion of yourself, it seems," she said calmly.
"Why do you think I am amazing, anyway?" said he recklessly, returning to the relationships they had established at luncheon2.
"Because you have enchanted3 my father," she said.
She was not smiling now, and a troubled little frown gathered on her brow.
"Please tell me your magic."
"Perhaps it is the book," he said jestingly.
"The book!" she looked up sharply. "What book?"
And then, as a light dawned on her, she rose to her feet.
"You have--you have Israel Kensky's book?" she whispered in horror.
He nodded.
"Here with you?"
"Yes, here," he slapped his pocket.
She sat down slowly and reached out her hand, and he thought it shook.
"I do not know who was the madder--Israel Kensky to give it to you or you to take it," she said. "This is the only house in Kieff where your life is safe, and even here----" She stopped and shook her head. "Of course, you're safe here," she smiled, "but I wish the book were somewhere else."
She made no further reference either to the amazing volume or to her father, and that night, when he came down to dinner, feeling more on level terms with royalty4 (though his dress-suit was four years old and his patent shoes, good enough for such mild society functions as came his way, looked horribly cracked and shabby), he dismissed the matter from his mind. The dinner party was a large one. There were two bishops6, innumerable popes, several bejewelled women, an officer or two and the inevitable7 duenna. He was introduced to them all, but remembered only Colonel Malinkoff, a quiet man whom he was to meet again.
To his amazement8 he found that he had been seated in the place of honour, to the right of the Grand Duke, but he derived9 very little satisfaction from that distinction, since the girl was at the other end of the table.
She looked worried and her conversation, so far as he could hear, consisted of "yes" and "no" and conventional expressions of agreement with the views of her companions.
But the duke was loquacious10, and at an early stage of the dinner the conversation turned on the riot of the morning. There was nothing remarkable11 in the conversation till suddenly the Grand Duke, without preliminary, remarked in a matter-of-fact tone:
"The danger is that Kensky may very well use his evil powers against the welfare of Holy Church."
There was a murmur12 of agreement from the black-bearded popes, and Malcolm opened his eyes in astonishment13.
"But surely your Highness does not believe that this man has any supernatural gift."
The Grand Duke stared at him through his glasses.
"Of course," he said, "if there are miracles of the Church why should there not be performed miracles by the Powers of Darkness? Here in Kieff," he went on, "we have no reason to doubt that miracles are performed every day. Who doubts that worship at the shrine14 of St. Barbara in the Church of St. Michael of the Golden Head protects us against lightning?"
"That is undoubtedly15 the fact, your Imperial Highness," said a stout16 pope, speaking with his mouth full. "I have seen houses with lightning conductors struck repeatedly, and I have never known any place to be touched by lightning if the master of the house was under the protection of St. Barbara."
"And beneath the Church of Exaltation," the Grand Duke went on, "more miracles have been performed than elsewhere in the world."
He peered round the table for contradiction.
"It was here that the Two Brothers are buried and it was their prayer that they should sleep together in the same grave. One died before the other, and when the second had passed away and they carried his body to the tomb, did not the body of the first brother arise to make room? And is there not a column in the catacomb to which, if a madman is bound, he recovers his reason? And are there not skulls17 which exude18 wonderful oils which cure men of the most terrible diseases, even though they are on the point of death?"
Malcolm drew a long breath. He could understand the superstitious19 reverence20 of the peasant for these relics21 and miracles, but these were educated men. One of them stood near to the throne and was versed22 in the intricacies of European diplomacy23. These were no peasants steeped in ignorance, but intellectuals. He pinched himself to make sure that he was awake as the discussion grew and men swopped miracles in much the same spirit of emulation24 as store-loafers swop lies. But the conversation came back to him, led thereto by the Grand Duke, and once more it centred on that infernal book. The volume in question was not six inches from the Grand Duke, for Malcolm had stuffed it into his tail pocket before he came down to dinner, and this fact added a certain piquancy25 to the conversation.
"I do not doubt, your Highness," said a stout bishop5, who picked his teeth throughout the dinner, "that Kensky's book is identical with a certain volume on devil worship which the blessed Saint Basil publicly denounced and damned. It was a book especially inspired by Satan, and contained exact rules, whereby he who practised the magic could bind26 in earthly and immortal27 obedience28 the soul of anybody he chose, thus destroying in this life their chance of happiness and in the life to come their souls' salvation29."
All within reach of the bishop's voice crossed themselves three times.
"It would have been well," mused30 the Grand Duke, "if the people had succeeded this morning."
He shot a glance at Malcolm, a glance full of suspicious inquiry31, but the young man showed no sign either of resentment32 or agreement. But he was glad when the dinner ended and the chance came to snatch a few words with the girl. The guests were departing early, and kummel and coffee was already being served on a large silver salver by the _buffetschek_, whom Malcolm recognized as the ubiquitous Boolba.
"I shall not see you again," said the girl in a low voice. "I am going to my room. But I want you to promise me something, Mr. Hay."
"The promise is made before you ask," said he.
"I want you to leave as early as you possibly can to-morrow morning for your mine, and if I send you word I want you to leave Russia without delay."
"But this is very astonishing."
She faced him squarely, her hands behind her back.
"Mr. Hay," she said, and her low voice was vibrant33 with feeling, "you have entangled34 yourself in an adventure which cannot possibly end well for you. Whatever happens, you cannot come out with credit and safety, and I would rather you came out with credit."
"I don't understand you," he said.
"I will make it plainer," said she. "Unless something happens in the next month or two which will point the minds of the people to other directions, you will be suspect. The fact that you have the book is known."
"I know," he said.
"By whom?" she asked quickly.
"By Boolba, your servant."
She raised her hand to her lips, as if to suppress a cry. It was an odd little trick of hers which he had noticed before.
"Boolba," she repeated. "Of course! That explains!"
At that moment the Grand Duke called him. The guests had dwindled35 away to half a dozen.
"Your coffee, Mr. Hay, and some of our wonderful Russian kummel. You will not find its like in any other part of the world."
Malcolm drank the coffee, gulped36 down the fiery37 liqueur, and replaced the glass on the tray. He did not see the girl again, and half an hour later he went up to his room, locked the door and undressed himself slowly, declining the assistance which had been offered to him by the trained valet.
From the open window came the heavy perfume of heliotrope38, but it was neither the garden scent39 nor the moderate quantity of wine he had taken, nor the languid beauty of the night, which produced this delicious sensation of weariness. He undressed and got into his pyjamas40, then sat at the end of his bed, his head between his hands.
He had sat for a long time like this, before he realized the strangeness of his attitude and getting on to his feet, found himself swaying.
"Doped," he said, and sat down again.
There was little of his brain that was awake, but that little he worked hard. He had been drugged. It was either in the kummel or in the coffee. Nothing but dope would make him feel as he was feeling now. He fell into bed and pulled the clothes about him. He wanted to keep awake to fight off the effects of the stuff and, by an absurd perversion41 of reasoning, he argued that he was in a more favourable42 position to carry out his plan if he made himself comfortable in bed, than if he followed any other course.
The drug worked slowly and erratically43. He had moments of complete unconsciousness with intervals44 which, if they were not free from the effect of the agent, were at least lucid46. One such interval45 must have come after he had been in bed for about an hour, for he found himself wide awake and lay listening to the thumping47 of his heart, which seemed to shake the bed.
The room was bathed in a soft green light, for it was a night of full moon. He could see dimly the furniture and the subdued48 gleam of silver wall-sconce, that caught the ghostly light and gave it a more mysterious value. He tried to rise but could not. To roll his head from side to side seemed the limitation of conscious effort.
And whilst he looked, the door opened noiselessly and closed again. Somebody had come into the room, and that somebody passed softly across the foot of the bed, and stood revealed against the window. Had he been capable of speech he would have cried out.
It was the girl!
He saw her plainly in a moment. She wore a wrapper over her nightdress, and carried a small electric lamp in her hand. She went to the chair where he had thrown his clothes and made a search. He saw her take something out and put it under her wrap, then she went back the way she came, pausing for the space of a second at the foot of his bed.
She stood there undecidedly, and presently she came up to the side of the bed and bent49 down over him. His eyes were half closed; he had neither the power of opening or shutting them, but he could see clearly the white hand that rested on the bed and the book that it held, and the polished table by the bedside reflecting the moonlight back to her face so that she seemed something as intangible and as shadowy as the night itself.
A little smile played upon her pale face, and every whispered word she uttered was clear and distinct.
"Good-bye, poor Mr. Hay," she said softly.
She shook her head as though in pity; then, stopping swiftly, she kissed him on the cheek and passed quickly to the half-open door by which she had entered. She was nearing the door when she stopped dead and shrank back toward the bed. Another electric lamp gleamed unexpectedly. He saw the white of her nightdress show as a dazzling strip of light where the beam caught it. Then the unknown intruder touched on the light, and they stood revealed, the girl tall, imperious, a look of scorn on her beautiful face, and the stout menial with the crooked50 nose.
Boolba wore an old dressing-gown girdled about with a soiled rainbow sash. His feet were bare, and in his two hands laying from palm to palm was a long thin knife.
At the sight of the girl he fell back, a grotesque51 sprawling52 movement which was not without its comicality. A look of blank bewilderment creased53 his big face.
"You--you, Highness!" he croaked54. "The Jew, where is he?"
She was silent. Malcolm saw the quick rise and fall of her bosom55, saw the book clutched closer to her side beneath the filmy silken gown.
Boolba looked from the girl to Malcolm, from Malcolm to the heavy curtains at either side of the open window--curtains which the drugged man had not drawn56.
"He has left his quarters, Highness," Boolba spoke57 eagerly; "he was seen to enter the grounds of the palace--where is he?"
He took a step toward her.
"Stand back--you slave!" she breathed, but with a bound he was upon her. There was a brief struggle, and the book was wrenched58 from her hand.
Malcolm saw all this, but lay as one dead. He was conscious but paralysed by the potion, and could only watch the girl in the grip of the obese60 monster and feel his heart going like a steam hammer.
Boolba stood gloating over his prize, fondling the book in his big, coarse hands. Malcolm wondered why the girl did not scream--yet how could she? She was in his room in the middle of the night, she, a daughter of emperors.
The man tried to wrench59 open the locks which held the covers, but failed. Suddenly he looked up, and glared across at the girl.
He said nothing, but the suspicion in that scowl61 was emphasized when he moved to the wall near the window and the light of a bracket lamp.
Again he examined the book and for the first time spoke:
"Oh, Highness, was it you who sent for Israel Kensky that the book should be restored----"
So far he got when an arm came from behind the curtain--a hand blue-veined, and it held a yellow handkerchief.
The girl saw it, and her hand went to her mouth.
Then the handkerchief struck full across Boolba's face, covering it from forehead to the mouth.
For a moment the man was paralysed, then he pulled the handkerchief away and clawed at the clay-like substance which adhered to his face.
"Mother of God!"
He screamed the words and, dropping the book, stumbled forward, rubbing at his face, shrieking62 with pain.
The girl ran swiftly through the open door, for feet were now pattering along the corridors and the flicker63 of lights showed through the doorway64. Boolba was rolling on the ground in agony when the servants crowded in, followed by the Grand Duke--and he alone was fully65 dressed.
"Boolba--what is it?"
"The book--the book! It is mine! See ... floor!"
But the book had disappeared.
"Where, Boolba--where, my good Boolba?" The voice of Boolba's master was tremulous. "Show me--did he strike you--he shall suffer, by the saints! Look for it, Boolba!"
"Look! Look!" yelled the writhing66 man. "How shall I look? I who am blind--blind--blind!"
收听单词发音 |
1
dissertation
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| n.（博士学位）论文，学术演讲，专题论文 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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bishops
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| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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loquacious
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| adj.多嘴的，饶舌的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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exude
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| v.(使)流出，(使)渗出 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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versed
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| adj. 精通，熟练 | |
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diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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emulation
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| n.竞争；仿效 | |
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piquancy
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| n.辛辣，辣味，痛快 | |
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bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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heliotrope
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| n.天芥菜；淡紫色 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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perversion
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| n.曲解；堕落；反常 | |
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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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erratically
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| adv.不规律地，不定地 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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47
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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51
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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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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53
creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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54
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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56
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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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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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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obese
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| adj.过度肥胖的，肥大的 | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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63
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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