“Yes, I’m going to stay here to-night. As it’s a mere1 formality, I shall want a room to sit in, and if you have no objection I’ll take Number 3 on the rear corridor.”
“I’m sorry, but Number 3 is totally unfit for use, as you’ve already seen.”
“Oh, I’m not particular. Put a table in and a good light, and I’ll get along with the rest. I have something to do. Number 3 will answer.”
The landlord shifted his feet, cast a quick scrutinising look at the other’s composed face, and threw back his head with a quick laugh.
“As you will. I can’t make you comfortable on such short notice, but that’s your lookout2. I’ve several other rooms vacant.”
“I fancy that room,” was all the reply he got.
Mr. Quimby at once gave his orders. They were received by Jake with surprise.
Fifteen minutes later Hammersmith prepared to install himself in these desolate3 quarters. But before doing so he walked straight to the small parlour where he had last seen Miss Demarest and, knocking, asked for the privilege of a word with her. It was not her figure, however, which appeared in the doorway5, but that of the landlady6.
“Miss Demarest is not here,” announced that buxom7 and smooth-tongued woman. “She was like to faint after you gentlemen left the room, and I just took her upstairs to a quiet place by herself.”
“On the rear corridor?”
“Oh, no, sir; a nice front room; we don’t consider money in a case like this.”
“Will you give me its number?”
Her suave8 and steady look changed to one of indignation.
“You’re asking a good deal, aren’t you? I doubt if the young lady ——”
“The number, if you please,” he quietly put in.
“Thirty-two,” she snapped out. “She will have every care,” she hastened to assure him as he turned away.
“I’ve no doubt. I do not intend to sleep to to-night; if the young lady is worse, you will communicate the fact to me. You will find me in Number 3.”
He had turned back to make this reply, and was looking straight at her as the number dropped from his lips. It did not disturb her set smile, but in some inscrutable way all meaning seemed to leave that smile, and she forgot to drop her hand which had been stretched out in an attempted gesture.
“Number 3,” he repeated. “Don’t forget, madam.”
The injunction seemed superfluous9. She had not dropped her hand when he wheeled around once more in taking the turn at the foot of the staircase.
Jake and a very sleepy maid were on the floor above when he reached it. He paid no attention to Jake, but he eyed the girl somewhat curiously10. She was comparatively a new domestic in the tavern11, having been an inmate12 there for only three weeks. He had held a few minutes’ conversation with her during the half-hour of secret inquiry13 in which he had previously14 indulged and he remembered some of her careful answers, also the air of fascination15 with which she had watched him all the time they were together. He had made nothing of her then, but the impression had remained that she was the one hopeful source of knowledge in the house. Now she looked dull and moved about in Jake’s wake like an automaton17. Yet Hammersmith made up his mind to speak to her as soon as the least opportunity offered.
“Where is 32?” he asked as he moved away from them in the opposite direction from the course they were taking.
“I thought you were to have room Number 3,” blurted18 out Jake.
“I am. But where is 32?”
“Round there,” said she. “A lady’s in there now. The one ——”
“Come on,” urged Jake. “Huldah, you may go now. I’ll show the gentleman his room.”
Huldah dropped her head, and began to move off, but not before Hammersmith had caught her eye.
“Thirty-two,” he formed with his lips, showing her a scrap19 of paper which he held in his hand.
He thought she nodded, but he could not be sure. Nevertheless, he ventured to lay the scrap down on a small table he was passing, and when he again looked back, saw that it was gone and Huldah with it. But whither, he could not be quite sure. There was always a risk in these attempts, and he only half trusted the girl. She might carry it to 32, and she might carry it to Quimby. In the first case, Miss Demarest would know that she had an active and watchful20 friend in the house; in the other, the dubious21 landlord would but receive an open instead of veiled intimation that the young deputy had his eye on him and was not to be fooled by appearances and the lack of evidence to support his honest convictions.
They had done little more than he had suggested to make Number 3 habitable. As the door swung open under Jake’s impatient hand, the half-lighted hollow of the almost empty room gaped22 uninvitingly before them, with just a wooden-bottomed chair and a rickety table added to the small cot-bed which had been almost its sole furnishing when he saw it last. The walls, bare as his hand, stretched without relief from baseboard to ceiling, and the floor from door to window showed an unbroken expanse of unpainted boards, save for the narrow space between chair and table, where a small rug had been laid. A cheerless outlook for a tired man, but it seemed to please Hammersmith. There was paper and ink on the table, and the lamp which he took care to examine held oil enough to last till morning. With a tray of eatables, this ought to suffice, or so his manner conveyed, and Jake, who had already supplied the eatables, was backing slowly out when his eye, which seemingly against his will had been travelling curiously up and down the walls, was caught by that of Hammersmith, and he plunged23 from the room, with a flush visible even in that half light.
It was a trivial circumstance, but it fitted in with Hammersmith’s trend of thought at the moment, and when the man was gone he stood for several minutes with his own eye travelling up and down those dusky walls in an inquiry which this distant inspection24 did not seem thoroughly25 to satisfy, for in another instant he had lifted a glass of water from the tray and, going to the nearest wall, began to moisten the paper at one of the edges. When it was quite wet, he took out his penknife, but before using it, he looked behind him, first at the door, and then at the window. The door was shut; the window seemingly guarded by an outside blind; but the former was not locked, and the latter showed, upon closer inspection, a space between the slats which he did not like. Crossing to the door, he carefully turned the key, then proceeding26 to the window, he endeavoured to throw up the sash in order to close the blinds more effectually. But he found himself balked27 in the attempt. The cord had been cut and the sash refused to move under his hand.
Casting a glance of mingled28 threat and sarcasm29 out into the night, he walked back to the wall and, dashing more water over the spot he had already moistened, began to pick at the loosened edges of the paper which were slowly falling away. The result was a disappointment; how great a disappointment he presently realised, as his knife-point encountered only plaster under the peeling edges of the paper. He had hoped to find other paper under the blue — the paper which Miss Demarest remembered — and not finding it, was conscious of a sinking of the heart which had never attended any of his miscalculations before. Were his own feelings involved in this matter? It would certainly seem so.
Astonished at his own sensations, he crossed back to the table, and sinking into the chair beside it, endeavoured to call up his common sense, or at least shake himself free from the glamour30 which had seized him. But this especial sort of glamour is not so easily shaken off. Minutes passed — an hour, and little else filled his thoughts than the position of this bewitching girl and the claims she had on his sense of justice. If he listened, it was to hear her voice raised in appeal at his door. If he closed his eyes, it was to see her image more plainly on the background of his consciousness. The stillness into which the house had sunk aided this absorption and made his battle a losing one. There was naught31 to distract his mind, and when he dozed32, as he did for a while after midnight, it was to fall under the conjuring33 effect of dreams in which her form dominated with all the force of an unfettered fancy. The pictures which his imagination thus brought before him were startling and never to be forgotten. The first was that of an angry sea in the blue light of an arctic winter. Stars flecked the zenith and shed a pale lustre34 on the moving ice-floes hurrying toward a horizon of skurrying clouds and rising waves. On one of those floes stood a woman alone, with face set toward her death.
The scene changed. A desert stretched out before him. Limitless, with the blazing colours of the arid35 sand topped by a cloudless sky, it revealed but one suggestion of life in its herbless, waterless, shadowless solitude36. She stood in the midst of this desert, and as he had seen her sway on the ice-floe, so he saw her now stretching unavailing arms to the brazen37 heavens and sink — No! it was not a desert, it was not a sea, ice-bound or torrid, it was a toppling city, massed against impenetrable night one moment, then shown to its awful full the next by the sudden tearing through of lightning-flashes. He saw it all — houses, churches, towers, erect38 and with steadfast39 line, a silhouette40 of quiet rest awaiting dawn; then at a flash, the doom41, the quake, the breaking down of outline, the caving in of walls, followed by the sickening collapse42 in which life, wealth, and innumerable beating human hearts went down into the unseen and unknowable. He saw and he heard, but his eyes clung to but one point, his ears listened for but one cry. There at the extremity43 of a cornice, clinging to a bending beam, was the figure again — the woman of the ice-floe and the desert. She seemed nearer now. He could see the straining muscles of her arm, the white despair of her set features. He wished to call aloud to her not to look down — then, as the sudden darkness yielded to another illuminating45 gleam, his mind changed and he would fain have begged her to look, slip, and end all, for subtly, quietly, ominously46 somewhere below her feet, he had caught the glimpsing of a feathery line of smoke curling up from the lower d?bris. Flame was there; a creeping devil which soon ——
Horror! it was no dream! He was awake, he, Hammersmith, in this small solitary47 hotel in Ohio, and there was fire, real fire in the air, and in his ears the echo of a shriek48 such as a man hears but few times in his life, even if his lot casts him continually among the reckless and the suffering. Was it hers? Had these dreams been forerunners49 of some menacing danger? He was on his feet, his eyes staring at the floor beneath him, through the cracks of which wisps of smoke were forcing their way up. The tavern was not only on fire, but on fire directly under him. This discovery woke him effectually. He bounded to the door; it would not open. He wrenched51 at the key; but it would not turn, it was hampered52 in the lock. Drawing back, he threw his whole weight against the panels, uttering loud cries for help. The effort was useless. No yielding in the door, no rush to his assistance from without. Aroused now to his danger — reading the signs of the broken cord and hampered lock only too well — he desisted from his vain attempts and turned desperately54 toward the window. Though it might be impossible to hold up the sash and crawl under it at the same time, his only hope of exit lay there, as well as his only means of surviving the inroad of smoke which was fast becoming unendurable. He would break the sash and seek escape that way. They had doomed55 him to death, but he could climb roofs like a cat and feared nothing when once relieved from this smoke. Catching56 up the chair, he advanced toward the window.
But before reaching it he paused. It was not only he they sought to destroy, but the room. There was evidence of crime in the room. In that moment of keenly aroused intelligence he felt sure of it. What was to be done? How could he save the room, and, by these means, save himself and her? A single glance about assured him that he could not save it. The boards under his feet were hot. Glints of yellow light streaking57 through the shutters58 showed that the lower storey had already burst into flame. The room must go and with it every clue to the problem which was agitating59 him. Meanwhile, his eyeballs were smarting, his head growing dizzy. No longer sure of his feet, he staggered over to the wall and was about to make use of its support in his effort to reach the window, when his eyes fell on the spot from which he had peeled the paper, and he came to a sudden standstill. A bit of pink was showing under one edge of the blue.
Dropping the chair which he still held, he fumbled60 for his knife, found it, made a dash at that wall, and for a few frenzied61 moments worked at the plaster till he had hacked62 off a piece which he thrust into his pocket. Then seizing the chair again, he made for the window and threw it with all his force against the panes63. They crashed and the air came rushing in, reviving him enough for the second attempt. This not only smashed the pane53, but loosened the shutters, and in one instant two sights burst upon his view — the face of a man in an upper window of the adjoining barn and the sudden swooping64 up from below of a column of deadly smoke which seemed to cut off all hope of his saving himself by the means he had calculated on. Yet no other way offered. It would be folly65 to try the door again. This was the only road, threatening as it looked, to possible safety for himself and her. He would take it, and if he succumbed66 in the effort, it should be with a final thought of her who was fast becoming an integral part of his own being.
Meanwhile he had mounted to the sill and taken another outward look. This room, as I have already intimated, was in the rear of an extension running back from the centre of the main building. It consisted of only two stories, surmounted67 by a long, slightly-peaked roof. As the ceilings were low in this portion of the house, the gutter68 of this roof was very near the top of the window. To reach it was not a difficult feat44 for one of his strength and agility69, and if only the smoke would blow aside — Ah, it is doing so! A sudden change of wind had come to his rescue, and for the moment the way is clear for him to work himself out and up on to the ledge16 above. But once there, horror makes him weak again. A window, high up in the main building overlooking the extension, had come in sight, and in it sways a frantic70 woman ready to throw herself out. She screamed as he measured with his eye the height of that window from the sloping roof and thence to the ground, and he recognised the voice. It was the same he had heard before, but it was not hers. She would not be up so high, besides the shape and attitude, shown fitfully by the light of the now leaping flames, were those of a heavier, and less-refined woman. It was one of the maids — it was the maid Huldah, the one from whom he had hoped to win some light on this affair. Was she locked in, too? Her frenzy71 and mad looking behind and below her seemed to argue that she was. What deviltry! and, ah! what a confession72 of guilt73 on the part of the vile4 man who had planned this abominable74 end for the two persons whose evidence he dreaded75. Helpless with horror, he became a man again in his indignation. Such villainy should not succeed. He would fight not only for his own life, but for this woman’s. Miss Demarest was doubtless safe. Yet he wished he were sure of it; he could work with so much better heart. Her window was not visible from where he crouched76. It was on the other side of the house. If she screamed, he would not be able to hear her. He must trust her to Providence77. But his dream! his dream! The power of it was still upon him; a forerunner50 of fate, a picture possibly of her doom. The hesitation78 which this awful thought caused him warned him that not in this way could he make himself effective. The woman he saw stood in need of his help, and to her he must make his way. The bustle79 which now took place in the yards beneath, the sudden shouts and the hurried throwing up of windows all over the house showed that the alarm had now become general. Another moment, and the appalling80 cry — the most appalling which leaves human lips — of fire! fire! rang from end to end of the threatened building. It was followed by women’s shrieks81 and men’s curses and then — by flames.
“She will hear, she will wake now,” he thought, with his whole heart pulling him her way. But he did not desist from his intention to drop his eyes from the distraught figure entrapped82 between a locked door and a fall of thirty feet. He could reach her if he kept his nerve. A slow but steady hitch83 along the gutter was bringing him nearer every instant. Would she see him and take courage? No! her eyes were on the flames which were so bright now that he could actually see them glassed in her eyeballs. Would a shout attract her? The air was full of cries as the yards filled with escaping figures, but he would attempt it at the first lull84 — now — while her head was turned his way. Did she hear him? Yes. She is looking at him.
“Don’t jump,” he cried. “Tie your sheet to the bedpost. Tie it strong and fasten the other one to it and throw down the end. I will be here to catch it. Then you must come down hand over hand.”
She threw up her arms, staring down at him in mortal terror; then, as the whole air grew lurid85, nodded and tottered86 back. With incredible anxiety he watched for her reappearance. His post was becoming perilous88. The fire had not yet reached the roof, but it was rapidly undermining its supports, and the heat was unendurable. Would he have to jump to the ground in his own despite? Was it his duty to wait for this girl, possibly already overcome by her fears and lying insensible? Yes; so long as he could hold out against the heat, it was his duty, but — Ah! what was that? Some one was shouting to him. He had been seen at last, and men, half-clad but eager, were rushing up the yard with a ladder. He could see their faces. How they glared in the red light. Help and determination were there, and perhaps when she saw the promise of this support, it would give nerve to her fingers and ——
But it was not to be. As he watched their eager approach, he saw them stop, look back, swerve89 and rush around the corner of the house. Some one had directed them elsewhere. He could see the pointing hand, the baleful face. Quimby had realised his own danger in this prospect90 of Hammersmith’s escape, and had intervened to prevent it. It was a murderer’s natural impulse, and did not surprise him, but it added another element of danger to his position, and if this woman delayed much longer — but she is coming; a blanket is thrown out, then a dangling91 end of cloth appears above the sill. It descends92. Another moment he has crawled up the roof to the ridge93 and grasped it.
“Slowly now!” he shouts. “Take time and hold on tight. I will guide you.” He feels the frail94 support stiffen95. She has drawn96 it into her hands; now she is on the sill, and is working herself off. He clutched his end firmly, steadying himself as best he might by bestriding the ridge of the roof. The strain becomes greater, he feels her weight, she is slipping down, down. Her hands strike a knot; the jerk almost throws him off his balance. He utters a word of caution, lost in the growing roar of the flames whose hungry tongues have begun to leap above the gutter. She looks down, sees the approaching peril87, and hastens her descent. He is all astrain, with heart and hand nerved for the awful possibilities of the coming moments when — ping! Something goes whistling by his ear, which for the instant sets his hair bristling97 on his head, and almost paralyses every muscle. A bullet! The flame is not threatening enough! Some one is shooting at him from the dark.
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1
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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9
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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automaton
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| n.自动机器，机器人 | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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23
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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28
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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41
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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42
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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45
illuminating
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| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
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ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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48
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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49
forerunners
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| n.先驱( forerunner的名词复数 )；开路人；先兆；前兆 | |
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forerunner
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| n.前身，先驱（者），预兆，祖先 | |
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51
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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52
hampered
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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streaking
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| n.裸奔（指在公共场所裸体飞跑）v.快速移动( streak的现在分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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58
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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59
agitating
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| 搅动( agitate的现在分词 )； 激怒； 使焦虑不安； （尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而）激烈争论 | |
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60
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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62
hacked
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| 生气 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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67
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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68
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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entrapped
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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84
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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swerve
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| v.突然转向，背离；n．转向，弯曲，背离 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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91
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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95
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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96
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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97
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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