MONKS AND MR. BROWNLOW AT LENGTH MEET. THEIR CONVERSATION, AND THE INTELLIGENCE THAT INTERRUPTS IT

The twilight was beginning to close in, when Mr. Brownlow alighted from a hackney-coach at his own door, and knocked softly. The door being opened, a sturdy man got out of the coach and stationed himself on one side of the steps, while another man, who had been seated on the box, dismounted too, and stood upon the other side. At a sign from Mr. Brownlow, they helped out a third man, and taking him between them, hurried him into the house. This man was Monks.

They walked in the same manner up the stairs without speaking, and Mr. Brownlow, preceding them, led the way into a back-room. At the door of this apartment, Monks, who had ascended with evident reluctance, stopped. The two men looked at the old gentleman as if for instructions.

'He knows the alternative,' said Mr. Browlow. 'If he hesitates or moves a finger but as you bid him, drag him into the street, call for the aid of the police, and impeach him as a felon in my name.'

'How dare you say this of me?' asked Monks.

'How dare you urge me to it, young man?' replied Mr. Brownlow, confronting him with a steady look. 'Are you mad enough to leave this house? Unhand him. There, sir. You are free to go, and we to follow. But I warn you, by all I hold most solemn and most sacred, that instant will have you apprehended on a charge of fraud and robbery. I am resolute and immoveable. If you are determined to be the same, your blood be upon your own head!'

'By what authority am I kidnapped in the street, and brought here by these dogs?' asked Monks, looking from one to the other of the men who stood beside him.

'By mine,' replied Mr. Brownlow. 'Those persons are indemnified by me. If you complain of being deprived of your liberty--you had power and opportunity to retrieve it as you came along, but you deemed it advisable to remain quiet--I say again, throw yourself for protection on the law. I will appeal to the law too; but when you have gone too far to recede, do not sue to me for leniency, when the power will have passed into other hands; and do not say I plunged you down the gulf into which you rushed, yourself.'

Monks was plainly disconcerted, and alarmed besides. He hesitated.

'You will decide quickly,' said Mr. Brownlow, with perfect firmness and composure. 'If you wish me to prefer my charges publicly, and consign you to a punishment the extent of which, although I can, with a shudder, foresee, I cannot control, once more, I say, for you know the way. If not, and you appeal to my forbearance, and the mercy of those you have deeply injured, seat yourself, without a word, in that chair. It has waited for you two whole days.'

Monks muttered some unintelligible words, but wavered still.

'You will be prompt,' said Mr. Brownlow. 'A word from me, and the alternative has gone for ever.'

Still the man hesitated.

'I have not the inclination to parley,' said Mr. Brownlow, 'and, as I advocate the dearest interests of others, I have not the right.'

'Is there--' demanded Monks with a faltering tongue,--'is there--no middle course?'

'None.'

Monks looked at the old gentleman, with an anxious eye; but, reading in his countenance nothing but severity and determination, walked into the room, and, shrugging his shoulders, sat down.

'Lock the door on the outside,' said Mr. Brownlow to the attendants, 'and come when I ring.'

The men obeyed, and the two were left alone together.

'This is pretty treatment, sir,' said Monks, throwing down his hat and cloak, 'from my father's oldest friend.'

'It is because I was your father's oldest friend, young man,' returned Mr. Brownlow; 'it is because the hopes and wishes of young and happy years were bound up with him, and that fair creature of his blood and kindred who rejoined her God in youth, and left me here a solitary, lonely man: it is because he knelt with me beside his only sisters' death-bed when he was yet a boy, on the morning that would--but Heaven willed otherwise--have made her my young wife; it is because my seared heart clung to him, from that time forth, through all his trials and errors, till he died; it is because old recollections and associations filled my heart, and even the sight of you brings with it old thoughts of him; it is because of all these things that I am moved to treat you gently now--yes, Edward Leeford, even now--and blush for your unworthiness who bear the name.'

'What has the name to do with it?' asked the other, after contemplating, half in silence, and half in dogged wonder, the agitation of his companion. 'What is the name to me?'

'Nothing,' replied Mr. Brownlow, 'nothing to you. But it was _hers_, and even at this distance of time brings back to me, an old man, the glow and thrill which I once felt, only to hear it repeated by a stranger. I am very glad you have changed it--very--very.'

'This is all mighty fine,' said Monks (to retain his assumed designation) after a long silence, during which he had jerked himself in sullen defiance to and fro, and Mr. Brownlow had sat, shading his face with his hand. 'But what do you want with me?'

'You have a brother,' said Mr. Brownlow, rousing himself: 'a brother, the whisper of whose name in your ear when I came behind you in the street, was, in itself, almost enough to make you accompany me hither, in wonder and alarm.'

'I have no brother,' replied Monks. 'You know I was an only child. Why do you talk to me of brothers? You know that, as well as I.'

'Attend to what I do know, and you may not,' said Mr. Brownlow. 'I shall interest you by and by. I know that of the wretched marriage, into which family pride, and the most sordid and narrowest of all ambition, forced your unhappy father when a mere boy, you were the sole and most unnatural issue.'

'I don't care for hard names,' interrupted Monks with a jeering laugh. 'You know the fact, and that's enough for me.'

'But I also know,' pursued the old gentleman, 'the misery, the slow torture, the protracted anguish of that ill-assorted union. I know how listlessly and wearily each of that wretched pair dragged on their heavy chain through a world that was poisoned to them both. I know how cold formalities were succeeded by open taunts; how indifference gave place to dislike, dislike to hate, and hate to loathing, until at last they wrenched the clanking bond asunder, and retiring a wide space apart, carried each a galling fragment, of which nothing but death could break the rivets, to hide it in new society beneath the gayest looks they could assume. Your mother succeeded; she forgot it soon. But it rusted and cankered at your father's heart for years.'

'Well, they were separated,' said Monks, 'and what of that?'

'When they had been separated for some time,' returned Mr. Brownlow, 'and your mother, wholly given up to continental frivolities, had utterly forgotten the young husband ten good years her junior, who, with prospects blighted, lingered on at home, he fell among new friends. This circumstance, at least, you know already.'

'Not I,' said Monks, turning away his eyes and beating his foot upon the ground, as a man who is determined to deny everything. 'Not I.'

'Your manner, no less than your actions, assures me that you have never forgotten it, or ceased to think of it with bitterness,' returned Mr. Brownlow. 'I speak of fifteen years ago, when you were not more than eleven years old, and your father but one-and-thirty--for he was, I repeat, a boy, when _his_ father ordered him to marry. Must I go back to events which cast a shade upon the memory of your parent, or will you spare it, and disclose to me the truth?'

'I have nothing to disclose,' rejoined Monks. 'You must talk on if you will.'

'These new friends, then,' said Mr. Brownlow, 'were a naval officer retired from active service, whose wife had died some half-a-year before, and left him with two children--there had been more, but, of all their family, happily but two survived. They were both daughters; one a beautiful creature of nineteen, and the other a mere child of two or three years old.'

'What's this to me?' asked Monks.

'They resided,' said Mr. Brownlow, without seeming to hear the interruption, 'in a part of the country to which your father in his wandering had repaired, and where he had taken up his abode. Acquaintance, intimacy, friendship, fast followed on each other. Your father was gifted as few men are. He had his sister's soul and person. As the old officer knew him more and more, he grew to love him. I would that it had ended there. His daughter did the same.'

The old gentleman paused; Monks was biting his lips, with his eyes fixed upon the floor; seeing this, he immediately resumed:

'The end of a year found him contracted, solemnly contracted, to that daughter; the object of the first, true, ardent, only passion of a guileless girl.'

'Your tale is of the longest,' observed Monks, moving restlessly in his chair.

'It is a true tale of grief and trial, and sorrow, young man,' returned Mr. Brownlow, 'and such tales usually are; if it were one of unmixed joy and happiness, it would be very brief. At length one of those rich relations to strengthen whose interest and importance your father had been sacrificed, as others are often--it is no uncommon case--died, and to repair the misery he had been instrumental in occasioning, left him his panacea for all griefs--Money. It was necessary that he should immediately repair to Rome, whither this man had sped for health, and where he had died, leaving his affairs in great confusion. He went; was seized with mortal illness there; was followed, the moment the intelligence reached Paris, by your mother who carried you with her; he died the day after her arrival, leaving no will--_no will_ --so that the whole property fell to her and you.'

At this part of the recital Monks held his breath, and listened with a face of intense eagerness, though his eyes were not directed towards the speaker. As Mr. Brownlow paused, he changed his position with the air of one who has experienced a sudden relief, and wiped his hot face and hands.

'Before he went abroad, and as he passed through London on his way,' said Mr. Brownlow, slowly, and fixing his eyes upon the other's face, 'he came to me.'

'I never heard of that,' interrupted MOnks in a tone intended to appear incredulous, but savouring more of disagreeable surprise.

'He came to me, and left with me, among some other things, a picture--a portrait painted by himself--a likeness of this poor girl--which he did not wish to leave behind, and could not carry forward on his hasty journey. He was worn by anxiety and remorse almost to a shadow; talked in a wild, distracted way, of ruin and dishonour worked by himself; confided to me his intention to convert his whole property, at any loss, into money, and, having settled on his wife and you a portion of his recent acquisition, to fly the country--I guessed too well he would not fly alone--and never see it more. Even from me, his old and early friend, whose strong attachment had taken root in the earth that covered one most dear to both--even from me he withheld any more particular confession, promising to write and tell me all, and after that to see me once again, for the last time on earth. Alas! _That_ was the last time. I had no letter, and I never saw him more.'

'I went,' said Mr. Brownlow, after a short pause, 'I went, when all was over, to the scene of his--I will use the term the world would freely use, for worldly harshness or favour are now alike to him--of his guilty love, resolved that if my fears were realised that erring child should find one heart and home to shelter and compassionate her. The family had left that part a week before; they had called in such trifling debts as were outstanding, discharged them, and left the place by night. Why, or whither, none can tell.'

Monks drew his breath yet more freely, and looked round with a smile of triumph.

'When your brother,' said Mr. Brownlow, drawing nearer to the other's chair, 'When your brother: a feeble, ragged, neglected child: was cast in my way by a stronger hand than chance, and rescued by me from a life of vice and infamy--'

'What?' cried Monks.

'By me,' said Mr. Brownlow. 'I told you I should interest you before long. I say by me--I see that your cunning associate suppressed my name, although for ought he knew, it would be quite strange to your ears. When he was rescued by me, then, and lay recovering from sickness in my house, his strong resemblance to this picture I have spoken of, struck me with astonishment. Even when I first saw him in all his dirt and misery, there was a lingering expression in his face that came upon me like a glimpse of some old friend flashing on one in a vivid dream. I need not tell you he was snared away before I knew his history--'

'Why not?' asked Monks hastily.

'Because you know it well.'

'I!'

'Denial to me is vain,' replied Mr. Brownlow. 'I shall show you that I know more than that.'

'You--you--can't prove anything against me,' stammered Monks. 'I defy you to do it!'

'We shall see,' returned the old gentleman with a searching glance. 'I lost the boy, and no efforts of mine could recover him. Your mother being dead, I knew that you alone could solve the mystery if anybody could, and as when I had last heard of you you were on your own estate in the West Indies--whither, as you well know, you retired upon your mother's death to escape the consequences of vicious courses here--I made the voyage. You had left it, months before, and were supposed to be in London, but no one could tell where. I returned. Your agents had no clue to your residence. You came and went, they said, as strangely as you had ever done: sometimes for days together and sometimes not for months: keeping to all appearance the same low haunts and mingling with the same infamous herd who had been your associates when a fierce ungovernable boy. I wearied them with new applications. I paced the streets by night and day, but until two hours ago, all my efforts were fruitless, and I never saw you for an instant.'

'And now you do see me,' said Monks, rising boldly, 'what then? Fraud and robbery are high-sounding words--justified, you think, by a fancied resemblance in some young imp to an idle daub of a dead man's Brother! You don't even know that a child was born of this maudlin pair; you don't even know that.'

'I _did not_,' replied Mr. Brownlow, rising too; 'but within the last fortnight I have learnt it all. You have a brother; you know it, and him. There was a will, which your mother destroyed, leaving the secret and the gain to you at her own death. It contained a reference to some child likely to be the result of this sad connection, which child was born, and accidentally encountered by you, when your suspicions were first awakened by his resemblance to your father. You repaired to the place of his birth. There existed proofs--proofs long suppressed--of his birth and parentage. Those proofs were destroyed by you, and now, in your own words to your accomplice the Jew, "_the only proofs of the boy's identity lie at the bottom of the river, and the old hag that received them from the mother is rotting in her coffin_." Unworthy son, coward, liar,--you, who hold your councils with thieves and murderers in dark rooms at night,--you, whose plots and wiles have brought a violent death upon the head of one worth millions such as you,--you, who from your cradle were gall and bitterness to your own father's heart, and in whom all evil passions, vice, and profligacy, festered, till they found a vent in a hideous disease which had made your face an index even to your mind--you, Edward Leeford, do you still brave me!'

'No, no, no!' returned the coward, overwhelmed by these accumulated charges.

'Every word!' cried the gentleman, 'every word that has passed between you and this detested villain, is known to me. Shadows on the wall have caught your whispers, and brought them to my ear; the sight of the persecuted child has turned vice itself, and given it the courage and almost the attributes of virtue. Murder has been done, to which you were morally if not really a party.'

'No, no,' interposed Monks. 'I--I knew nothing of that; I was going to inquire the truth of the story when you overtook me. I didn't know the cause. I thought it was a common quarrel.'

'It was the partial disclosure of your secrets,' replied Mr. Brownlow. 'Will you disclose the whole?'

'Yes, I will.'

'Set your hand to a statement of truth and facts, and repeat it before witnesses?'

'That I promise too.'

'Remain quietly here, until such a document is drawn up, and proceed with me to such a place as I may deem most advisable, for the purpose of attesting it?'

'If you insist upon that, I'll do that also,' replied Monks.

'You must do more than that,' said Mr. Brownlow. 'Make restitution to an innocent and unoffending child, for such he is, although the offspring of a guilty and most miserable love. You have not forgotten the provisions of the will. Carry them into execution so far as your brother is concerned, and then go where you please. In this world you need meet no more.'

While Monks was pacing up and down, meditating with dark and evil looks on this proposal and the possibilities of evading it: torn by his fears on the one hand and his hatred on the other: the door was hurriedly unlocked, and a gentleman (Mr. Losberne) entered the room in violent agitation.

'The man will be taken,' he cried. 'He will be taken to-night!'

'The murderer?' asked Mr. Brownlow.

'Yes, yes,' replied the other. 'His dog has been seen lurking about some old haunt, and there seems little doubt that his master either is, or will be, there, under cover of the darkness. Spies are hovering about in every direction. I have spoken to the men who are charged with his capture, and they tell me he cannot escape. A reward of a hundred pounds is proclaimed by Government to-night.'

'I will give fifty more,' said Mr. Brownlow, 'and proclaim it with my own lips upon the spot, if I can reach it. Where is Mr. Maylie?'

'Harry? As soon as he had seen your friend here, safe in a coach with you, he hurried off to where he heard this,' replied the doctor, 'and mounting his horse sallied forth to join the first party at some place in the outskirts agreed upon between them.'

'Fagin,' said Mr. Brownlow; 'what of him?'

'When I last heard, he had not been taken, but he will be, or is, by this time. They're sure of him.'

'Have you made up your mind?' asked Mr. Brownlow, in a low voice, of Monks.

'Yes,' he replied. 'You--you--will be secret with me?'

'I will. Remain here till I return. It is your only hope of safety.'

They left the room, and the door was again locked.

'What have you done?' asked the doctor in a whisper.

'All that I could hope to do, and even more. Coupling the poor girl's intelligence with my previous knowledge, and the result of our good friend's inquiries on the spot, I left him no loophole of escape, and laid bare the whole villainy which by these lights became plain as day. Write and appoint the evening after to-morrow, at seven, for the meeting. We shall be down there, a few hours before, but shall require rest: especially the young lady, who _may_ have greater need of firmness than either you or I can quite foresee just now. But my blood boils to avenge this poor murdered creature. Which way have they taken?'

'Drive straight to the office and you will be in time,' replied Mr. Losberne. 'I will remain here.'

The two gentlemen hastily separated; each in a fever of excitement wholly uncontrollable.

    暮色刚开始降临，布朗罗先生乘坐出租马车，在自己的家门口下了车。他轻轻叩门。房门打开了。一个虎彪彪的汉子从车厢里出来，站在踏板的侧边，与此同时，另一个坐在驭者座位上的汉子也走下来，站在另一侧。布朗罗先生做了一个手势，他俩扶着一个人走下马车，一左一右夹着他匆匆进了屋子。这个人就是孟可司。

    他们以同一种方式一言不发地登上楼梯，布朗罗先生走在前边，领着他们来到一间后房。在这个房间的门口，上楼时就显然老大不乐意的孟可司停住了。两个汉子看着朝布朗罗先生，听候指示。

    “他知道好歹，”布朗罗先生说道，“如果他犹豫不前，或者不听你们的命令随便乱来，就把他拖上街去，找警察帮忙，以我的名义告发他这个重罪犯。’”

    “你怎么敢这样说我？”孟可司问道。

    “你怎么敢逼我出此下策，年轻人？”布朗罗先生正颜厉色面对着他，反问道，“你疯了吗，还想走出这所房子？放开他。行了，先生，你可以走了，我们会跟上来的。不过，我警告你，我凭着心目中最庄严神圣的一切发誓，只要你一只脚踏上街道，我就要指控你犯有欺诈、抢劫的罪行，把你抓起来。我主意已定，说到做到。你要是真打算那么着，那你可是咎由自取。”

    “这两条狗得到谁的授权在街上绑架我，弄到这儿来？”孟可司依次打量着站在身边的两个人问道。

    “我的授权。”布朗罗先生回答，“这两个人由我负责。如果你抱怨自由被人剥夺了的话――你在来的路上就有权利和机会恢复自由，可你还是认为不吭声为妙――我重复一遍，你可以寻求法律的保护，我也可以请求法律制裁你。不过，你到了没法收场的地步时，不要来求我发慈悲，到时候，权利已经不在我手里，得由别人做主，你不要自己跳进深渊，还说是我把你推进去的。”

    孟可司显然左右为难，而且很惊慌。他犹豫起来。

    “你赶快决定吧，”布朗罗先生十分坚定，神态自若地说，“如果你希望我公开提出指控，将你交付法办――我再说一遍，这条路你并非不清楚，尽管我不难料到你会受到什么样的惩罚，而且一想起来就打哆嗦――那我可就无能为力了。如果不是这样，你请求我网开一面，向那些你深深伤害过的人请求宽恕，就坐到那把椅子上去，一句话也别说，它恭候你已经整整两天了。”

    孟可司叽叽咕咕说了几句，谁也听不明白。他还在犹豫。

    “你抓紧时间，”布朗罗先生说道，“我只要说一句，选择的机会就将一去不返。”

    那个人依然举棋不定。

    “我不喜欢跟人讨价还价，”布朗罗先生说，“再说，我是在维护别人的切身利益，也没有权利那样做。”

    “这么说――”孟可司吞吞吐吐，“这么说――就没有折衷的办法了？”

    “没有。”

    孟可司带着焦急的目光注视着老绅士，在对方的表情中看到的唯有严厉与决心。他走进房间，耸了耸肩，坐下去。

    “从外边把门锁上，”布朗罗先生对两名随从说，“听见我摇铃再进来。”

    那两人应声退了出去，布朗罗先生和孟可司单独留下来。

    “先生，”孟可司摔掉帽子、斗篷，说，“绝妙的招待，这还是我父亲交情最深的朋友。”

    “正因为我是你父亲交情最深的朋友，年轻人，”布朗罗先生答道，“正因为我幸福的青年时代的希望与抱负都是与他联系在一起的，都是与那个和他有同胞血缘关系的可爱的人儿紧紧相连的，她年纪轻轻，就回到上帝那儿去了，丢下我一个人孤零零地呆在这里。因为在那个早晨，他和我一块儿跪在他唯一的姐姐的灵床旁边，那时候他还是个孩子，他姐姐本来就要成为我的娇妻了――可上天又有了另外的安排。因为从那时起，我这颗凋萎的心就一直拴在他身上，直到他去世，尽管他经受了种种考验，铸成了种种大错。因为我心里充满了旧日的回忆和友谊，甚而一看见你，就会勾起我对他的思念。正因为这种种缘故，直到现在――是的，爱德华黎福特，直到现在――我还身不由主，对你这样客气，并且因为你辱没了这个姓氏而感到脸红。”

    “这跟姓氏有什么相干？”对方过了一会才问道，此前他一直默默地注视着激动不已的老绅士，同时顽梗地表示自己莫名其妙。“这个姓氏跟我有什么关系？”

    “没有什么关系，”布朗罗先生回答，“和你毫不相干，但这也是她的姓氏，尽管时过境迁，我，一个老年人，只要一听到陌生人提起这个姓，我还会像当年一样面热心跳。你改名换姓了，我非常高兴――非常高兴――非常高兴。”

    “这一切倒挺不错，”孟可司（这里姑且保留他的化名）沉默了半天才说，他绷着脸，身子满不在乎地摇来摇去，布朗罗先生用手捂着脸，坐在那儿。“你找我到底有什么事？”

    “你有一个弟弟，”布朗罗先生打起精神说道，“一个弟弟，我在街上走到你背后，轻轻说了一声他的名字，几乎单凭这一招，你就会沉不住气，紧张兮兮地跟我上这儿来。”

    “我没有弟弟，”孟可司回答，“你知道我是独子。你干吗跟我说起什么弟弟来了？这一点你我都清楚。”

    “你还是听听的好，有些事我很清楚，而你也许并不知道，”布朗罗先生说，“我自有办法让你产生兴趣。我知道，你那个倒霉的父亲当时还是个孩子，在门阀观念和最龌龊、最狭隘的虚荣心逼迫下结了一门不幸的婚姻，而你又是这门亲事唯一的，也是极不自然的结果。”

    “你的话很难听，可我并不计较，”孟可司嘲弄地笑了笑，插嘴说，“你知道情况，这对我也就足够了。”

    “可我还了解到，”老绅士继续说道，“那一场阴差阳错的结合带来的是灾难、慢性折磨、无休止的苦恼。我知道那不幸的一对各自套着沉重的枷锁，度日如年，过得是何等的厌倦，这对于两个人来说都是有害的。我知道，冷冰冰的表面关系是如何变成公开的辱骂，冷淡如何让位于厌恶，厌恶又变成仇恨，仇恨再变成诅咒，直到最后终于把那条响当当的锁链扯断，各奔东西，彼此都带着一截可恨的链条，那一锁链只有死亡才能斩断，两个人都强装出开心得不得了的样子，想的是换一个环境，不让别人看见这个链条。你母亲大功告成，很快就忘掉了。可是过了多少年，那东西仍在你父亲心里生锈、腐烂。”

    “对了，他们分居了，”孟可司说道，“那又怎么样呢？”

    “他们分居了一个时期，”布朗罗先生回答。“你母亲在欧洲大陆纵情享乐，完全把足足小她十岁的年轻丈夫给忘了，而你父亲眼看前途无望，一直在国内徘徊不定，结交了一班新朋友。最低限度，这一点你是知道的。”

    “我不知道，”孟可司说着，将目光转向一边，一只脚在地上打着拍子，摆出一副概不认账的样子。“我不知道。”

    “你的态度和你的所作所为一样使我确信，你非但没有忘记这件事，而且始终耿耿于怀，”布朗罗先生回答，“我说的是十五年以前，当时你不过十一岁，而你父亲只有三十一岁――我重复一遍，他奉父命结婚的时候还是个孩子。你是要我重提那些使你父亲的名声蒙上阴影的事情呢，还是不用我说，你自己将真实情况告诉我？”

    “我没有什么好说的，”孟可司答道，“只要你愿意，只管说你的。”

    “当时，那班新朋友中，”布朗罗先生说道，“有一个是退役的海军军官，他妻子大约半年以前去世了，丢下两个孩子――在早还有几个，但幸而只有两个，都是女儿，一个如花似玉的十九岁姑娘，另一个小丫头只有三两岁。”

    “这跟我有什么关系？”孟可司问。

    “他们住在乡下，”布朗罗先生仿佛没有听见这句插话，“你父亲在仿徨中也到了那一带，在那儿住下来。结果，双方很快就从相识、接近直到产生友谊。你父亲的天赋很少有人比得上，他们姐弟俩在气度和长相上都很像。老军官对他日益加深了解，也越来越喜欢他了。事情如果到此为止就好了。那个大女儿也和父亲一样越来越喜欢他。”

    老绅士顿了一下，他见孟可司咬着嘴唇，两眼盯住地板，便立即往下说道：

    “到年底，他和那个女儿订下了婚约，订下了庄严的婚约，赢得了那个纯洁无瑕的姑娘的芳心，那是她的第一次，也是唯一的一次真挚而火热的爱情。”

    “你的故事还真够长的。”孟可司烦躁地在椅子上折腾着，说道。

    “这个真实的故事充满忧伤、苦难和不幸，年轻人，”布朗罗先生回答，“这类故事通常都是如此。如果是一个单纯快乐美满的故事，那就很短。后来，你家的一个富贵亲戚过世了，当初就是为了巩固他的利益和地位，拿你父亲当了牺牲品，跟其他人经常碰到的情况一样――这并不是什么罕见的例子――为了弥补他一手造成的不幸，他给你父亲留下了他自认为能够消除一切痛苦的灵丹妙药――钱。你父亲必须即刻赶往罗马，那人本来是到罗马去养病，哪知死在那儿了，他的事情顿时一团糟。你父亲去了，在当地得了一种绝症。消息一传到巴黎，你母亲就带着你跟去了，她到的那一天，你父亲就死了，没有留下遗嘱――没有遗嘱――于是全部财产落入你们母子的手中。”

    故事讲到这里，孟可司屏住呼吸，全神贯注地谛听着，尽管眼睛没有正对着说话的人。布朗罗先生打住话头，孟可司换了一个姿势，擦了擦发烫的脸和手，一个人骤然间如释重负就是这个样子。

    “他出国以前路过伦敦，”布朗罗先生目不转睛地望着对方的脸，缓缓地说，“他来找过我。”

    “这我没听说过。”孟可司插了一句，口气中本想表示此话不可信，却反而表明他更多的是感到一阵不愉快的惊奇。

    “他来找过我，留下了一些东西，其中有一幅画像――他亲笔画的一幅肖像――那个可怜的姑娘的肖像，他不愿意把画丢在家里，但旅途匆匆，又没法带在身边。焦虑悔恨之下，他瘦得形销骨立。他心神不定，语无伦次，谈到了他自己造成的祸患与耻辱，向我吐露他要不惜一切代价，把全部财产变卖成现钱，只等办好手续，将新近所得的一部分遗产授予你们母子，从此离开英国――我完全估计到了，他不会只身出走――永不回来。我虽然是他的老朋友，我们的情义已经深深植根于这一片大地，这里安葬着一个对我们彼此来说都是最亲爱的人――甚至于对我，他也没有进一步倾吐衷肠，只答应写信，把一切都告诉我，并表示事后还会来看我，作为在世的最后一次，啊！那本身就是最后一次。我没有收到信，也再没有见到他。”

    “等到一切都结束了，”布朗罗先生略微顿了一下，说道，“我到他结下那笔孽债的地方去了――我可以用世人通行的说法，因为世间的苛责或是宽厚对于他已经没有什么两样――我打定主意，如果我的担心变成了现实，也要让那位一时迷途的姑娘找到一个可以栖身的家，找到一颗能够同情她的心。那家人已经在一个星期前搬走了，他们把所有的未偿债务―一结清，哪怕数目不大，有天夜里，一家人离开了那个地方。原因何在，或者说上哪儿去了，谁也说不上来。”

    孟可司越发畅快地舒了一口气，带着胜利的微笑回头看了一眼。

    “你的弟弟，”布朗罗先生把椅子朝对方挪近了一些，说道，“你的弟弟，是个身体瘦弱，衣衫褴楼，受人鄙视的孩子，一只比机缘更强有力的手推着他来到我面前，我把他从罪恶可耻的生活中救了出来――”

    “什么？”孟可司嚷起来。

    “是我把他救出来的，”布朗罗先生说道，“我刚才不是说过，我很快就会激起你的兴趣。不错，是我把他救出来的――我明白，你那个狡滑的同伙隐瞒了我的名宇，虽说他才不管你听不听得出说的是谁。当时他被我救出来，住在我家里养病，他与我前边谈到的那幅画上的姑娘长得很像，使我大吃一惊。即使是在我初次见到他的时候，尽管他浑身污垢，可怜巴巴的，他脸上就有一种表情若隐若现，我似乎在一场栩栩如生的梦境里猛然发现了一位老朋友的身影。我用不着告诉你，我还没弄清他的来历，他就被人拐跑了――”

    “干吗不说呢？”孟可司赶紧问了一句。

    “因为这事你心里有数。”

    “我”

    “当面抵赖是无济于事的，”布朗罗先生回答，“我会让你明白，我知道的不只这一件事。”

    “你――你――没法证明有什么事情对我不利，”孟可司结结巴巴地说，“我量你也没那么大本事。”

    “走着瞧吧，”老绅士用犀利的目光看了他一眼，回答，“我失去了那个孩子，虽然我多方努力，还是没能找到他。你母亲已经死了，我知道，只有你能解开这个谜，只有你一个人。我最后一次听到你的消息的时候，你在西印度群岛，呆在你自己的领地上――你很清楚，你在母亲死后退隐到那里去了，为的是逃避在此地的种种恶行的后果――我渡海而去，你却已经在几个月以前离开那儿了，估计是到了伦敦，但谁也不清楚去了什么地方。我又返回来。你的几个代理人也不知道你的住处。他们说，你来来去去，和以前一样神秘――有时一连几天都在，有时又是几个月不在――看起来还是不断出没于那几个下流的场所，跟那班丧尽廉耻的家伙搅在一起，你从还是一个无法无天的孩子的时候起，就和他们打得火热。我一次又一次向他们打听，连他们都嫌烦了。我白天黑夜在街上走来走去，可直到两个小时以前，我所有的努力都毫无结果，我从没有见到过你一次。”

    “你现在真的看见我了，”孟可司大着胆子站起来，“那又怎么样？欺诈和抢劫都是响当当的罪名――你以为，你凭空想像，一个小鬼长得跟一个死人无聊时胡乱涂几笔的什么画长得有点像，就可以证明了？硬说我有个弟弟。你甚至搞不清那一对情种有没有生过孩子，你根本搞不清楚。”

    “我过去确实不清楚，”布朗罗先生也站了起来，说道，“可是过去半个月里，我一切都打听清楚了。你有一个弟弟。你知道这件事，而且认识他。遗嘱本来也是有的，被你母亲销毁了，她临终的时候，又把这个秘密和得到的好处留给了你。遗嘱里提到一个孩子，可能将成为这一可悲的结合的产物，那个孩子后来还是生下来了，无意之中又叫你给碰上了，最早引起你疑心的就是他长得很像他父亲。你去过他的出生地。那儿存有关于他的出生及血统的证明――那些证明已经压了很久。你把那些证据给毁了，我们眼下就用你自己对和你连手的那个犹太人说过的话好了。‘仅有的几样能够确定那孩子身份的证据掉到河底去了，从他母亲那儿把东西弄到手的那个老妖婆正在棺材里腐烂哩。’不肖之子，懦夫，骗子――你，乘黑夜跟一帮盗贼、杀人犯策划于密室之中――你，你的阴谋诡计使一个比你们好一百万倍的姑娘死于非命――你，自幼就伤透了你生身父亲的心，邪念、罪孽、淫欲，这一切都在你身上溃烂，直到它们找到一种可怕的病态才算发泄出来，这种病态甚而把你的面孔变成了你的灵魂的一个缩影――你，爱德华黎福特，你还敢跟我顶？”

    “不，不，不！”这个懦夫连声说道，他终于被对方一一历数的控诉压倒了。

    “每一句话！”老绅士喝斥道，“你跟那个该死的恶棍之间说的每一句话我都知道。墙上的影子听见了你们的窃窃私语，把你们的话传到了我的耳边。看到那个孩子备受虐待，连一个堕落的姑娘也幡然醒悟，给了她勇气和近乎于美德的品性。凶杀已经发生了，即便你在事实上不是同谋，你在道义上也难逃罪责。”

    “不，不，”孟可司连忙否认，“那――那件事我一点也不知道。我正想去打听一下到底是怎么回事，你就把我抓了来。我不知道起因，还当是一次普普通通的吵架呢。”

    “这一些只是你的秘密的一部分，”布朗罗先生答道，“你愿意全部讲出来吗？”

    “是的，我愿意。”

    “你愿不愿意写一份说明事实真相的供词，再当着证人的面宣读？”

    “这我也答应。”

    “你老老实实呆在此地，等笔录写好了，跟我一块儿到我认为最适当的地方去作一下公证，怎么样？”

    “如果你一定要那么着，我照办就是了。”孟可司回答。

    “你必须做的还不止这些，”布朗罗先生说道，“你必须对一个与世无争但却无辜受害的孩子作出赔偿，确实是这样，尽管他是一笔孽债的产物。你没有忘记遗嘱的条款。你必须将关于你弟弟的条款付诸实施，然后你高兴到哪儿去就到哪儿去。在这个世界上你们再也无需见面了。”

    孟可司来来去去地踱着步子，神色阴沉而又奸诈，他在斟酌这一提议，也想看看能不能找到另外的出路，正处在恐惧和仇恨的两面夹攻之中。房门被急匆匆打开了，一位绅士（罗斯伯力先生）兴奋不已地走进房间。

    “那个人即将被捕，”他嚷着说，“今晚就要逮住他。”

    “是那个凶手吗？”布朗罗先生问。

    “对，对，”大夫回答，“有人看见他的狗在某一个老巢附近转来转去，看来用不着怀疑，狗的主人要么已经在那儿了，要么就是打算趁天黑到那儿去。密探已经把各个方向都看住了。我跟奉命捉拿他的人谈过，他们告诉我，他跑不了。政府今天晚上已经出了一百英镑的赏格。”

    “只要我来得及赶到，我一定再加五十，并且亲口当场宣布，”布朗罗先生说道，“梅莱先生在什么地方？”

    “你说哈利？他一看见你的这位朋友太太平平，跟你乘的是同一辆马车，就匆匆赶往一地，在那他打听到了这消息，”大夫回答，“他骑马直奔郊区，他们商定到那儿参加头一拨搜索部队。”

    “费金呢，他怎么样了？”布朗罗先生说。

    “我刚听说还没抓住，可他跑不掉，说不定到这个时候已经抓住了。他们对付他还是满有把握的。”

    “你拿定主意没有？”布朗罗先生低声问孟可司。

    “拿定了，”他回答。“你――你――能替我保密吗？”

    “我一定保密。你呆在这儿等我回来。这可是你要想平安无事的唯一希望。”

    他们离开了房间，门重新锁上了。

    “你进展如何？”大夫打着耳语问了一句。

    “我能够指望办到的都办到了，甚至超出了一些。有那个苦命的姑娘报告的消息，结合我从前的所见所闻，我们那位好朋友的现场调查，我一点也没给他留下退路，将他的卑劣行径全部摊开，有了这些事实，情况变得跟白昼一样明朗。你写封信通知大家，后天傍晚七时碰头。我们得提前几个小时到那个地方，还是需要休息休息――特别是那位小姐，她非常需要镇定，你我眼下还真没法想像。我的血一直在沸腾，得替遇害的那个可怜的姑娘报仇。他们走的哪一条路？”

    “你照直赶到警察局，还来得及，”罗斯伯力先生回答。“我留在这儿。”

    两位绅士匆匆分手，彼此都兴奋得全然难以抑制心中的激动。

欢迎访问英文小说网http://novel.tingroom.com