A confoundedly hard place to get lost in! That had been her husband’s phrase. And now, with the whole machinery1 of official investigation2 sweeping3 its flash-lights from shore to shore, and across the dividing straits; now, with Boyne’s name blazing from the walls of every town and village, his portrait (how that wrung4 her!) hawked5 up and down the country like the image of a hunted criminal; now the little compact, populous6 island, so policed, surveyed, and administered, revealed itself as a Sphinx-like guardian7 of abysmal8 mysteries, staring back into his wife’s anguished10 eyes as if with the malicious11 joy of knowing something they would never know!
In the fortnight since Boyne’s disappearance12 there had been no word of him, no trace of his movements. Even the usual misleading reports that raise expectancy13 in tortured bosoms14 had been few and fleeting15. No one but the bewildered kitchen-maid had seen him leave the house, and no one else had seen “the gentleman” who accompanied him. All inquiries16 in the neighborhood failed to elicit17 the memory of a stranger’s presence that day in the neighborhood of Lyng. And no one had met Edward Boyne, either alone or in company, in any of the neighboring villages, or on the road across the downs, or at either of the local railway-stations. The sunny English noon had swallowed him as completely as if he had gone out into Cimmerian night.
Mary, while every external means of investigation was working at its highest pressure, had ransacked18 her husband’s papers for any trace of antecedent complications, of entanglements19 or obligations unknown to her, that might throw a faint ray into the darkness. But if any such had existed in the background of Boyne’s life, they had disappeared as completely as the slip of paper on which the visitor had written his name. There remained no possible thread of guidance except — if it were indeed an exception — the letter which Boyne had apparently20 been in the act of writing when he received his mysterious summons. That letter, read and reread by his wife, and submitted by her to the police, yielded little enough for conjecture21 to feed on.
“I have just heard of Elwell’s death, and while I suppose there is now no farther risk of trouble, it might be safer — ” That was all. The “risk of trouble” was easily explained by the newspaper clipping which had apprised22 Mary of the suit brought against her husband by one of his associates in the Blue Star enterprise. The only new information conveyed in the letter was the fact of its showing Boyne, when he wrote it, to be still apprehensive23 of the results of the suit, though he had assured his wife that it had been withdrawn24, and though the letter itself declared that the plaintiff was dead. It took several weeks of exhaustive cabling to fix the identity of the “Parvis” to whom the fragmentary communication was addressed, but even after these inquiries had shown him to be a Waukesha lawyer, no new facts concerning the Elwell suit were elicited25. He appeared to have had no direct concern in it, but to have been conversant26 with the facts merely as an acquaintance, and possible intermediary; and he declared himself unable to divine with what object Boyne intended to seek his assistance.
This negative information, sole fruit of the first fortnight’s feverish27 search, was not increased by a jot28 during the slow weeks that followed. Mary knew that the investigations29 were still being carried on, but she had a vague sense of their gradually slackening, as the actual march of time seemed to slacken. It was as though the days, flying horror-struck from the shrouded30 image of the one inscrutable day, gained assurance as the distance lengthened31, till at last they fell back into their normal gait. And so with the human imaginations at work on the dark event. No doubt it occupied them still, but week by week and hour by hour it grew less absorbing, took up less space, was slowly but inevitably32 crowded out of the foreground of consciousness by the new problems perpetually bubbling up from the vaporous caldron of human experience.
Even Mary Boyne’s consciousness gradually felt the same lowering of velocity33. It still swayed with the incessant34 oscillations of conjecture; but they were slower, more rhythmical35 in their beat. There were moments of overwhelming lassitude when, like the victim of some poison which leaves the brain clear, but holds the body motionless, she saw herself domesticated36 with the Horror, accepting its perpetual presence as one of the fixed37 conditions of life.
These moments lengthened into hours and days, till she passed into a phase of stolid38 acquiescence39. She watched the familiar routine of life with the incurious eye of a savage40 on whom the meaningless processes of civilization make but the faintest impression. She had come to regard herself as part of the routine, a spoke41 of the wheel, revolving42 with its motion; she felt almost like the furniture of the room in which she sat, an insensate object to be dusted and pushed about with the chairs and tables. And this deepening apathy43 held her fast at Lyng, in spite of the urgent entreaties44 of friends and the usual medical recommendation of “change.” Her friends supposed that her refusal to move was inspired by the belief that her husband would one day return to the spot from which he had vanished, and a beautiful legend grew up about this imaginary state of waiting. But in reality she had no such belief: the depths of anguish9 inclosing her were no longer lighted by flashes of hope. She was sure that Boyne would never come back, that he had gone out of her sight as completely as if Death itself had waited that day on the threshold. She had even renounced45, one by one, the various theories as to his disappearance which had been advanced by the press, the police, and her own agonized46 imagination. In sheer lassitude her mind turned from these alternatives of horror, and sank back into the blank fact that he was gone.
No, she would never know what had become of him — no one would ever know. But the house knew; the library in which she spent her long, lonely evenings knew. For it was here that the last scene had been enacted47, here that the stranger had come, and spoken the word which had caused Boyne to rise and follow him. The floor she trod had felt his tread; the books on the shelves had seen his face; and there were moments when the intense consciousness of the old, dusky walls seemed about to break out into some audible revelation of their secret. But the revelation never came, and she knew it would never come. Lyng was not one of the garrulous48 old houses that betray the secrets intrusted to them. Its very legend proved that it had always been the mute accomplice49, the incorruptible custodian50 of the mysteries it had surprised. And Mary Boyne, sitting face to face with its portentous51 silence, felt the futility52 of seeking to break it by any human means.
点击收听单词发音
1 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
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2 investigation | |
n.调查,调查研究 | |
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3 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
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4 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
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5 hawked | |
通过叫卖主动兜售(hawk的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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6 populous | |
adj.人口稠密的,人口众多的 | |
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7 guardian | |
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
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8 abysmal | |
adj.无底的,深不可测的,极深的;糟透的,极坏的;完全的 | |
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9 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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10 anguished | |
adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
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11 malicious | |
adj.有恶意的,心怀恶意的 | |
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12 disappearance | |
n.消失,消散,失踪 | |
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13 expectancy | |
n.期望,预期,(根据概率统计求得)预期数额 | |
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14 bosoms | |
胸部( bosom的名词复数 ); 胸怀; 女衣胸部(或胸襟); 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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15 fleeting | |
adj.短暂的,飞逝的 | |
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16 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
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17 elicit | |
v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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18 ransacked | |
v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 );抢劫,掠夺 | |
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19 entanglements | |
n.瓜葛( entanglement的名词复数 );牵连;纠缠;缠住 | |
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20 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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21 conjecture | |
n./v.推测,猜测 | |
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22 apprised | |
v.告知,通知( apprise的过去式和过去分词 );评价 | |
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23 apprehensive | |
adj.担心的,恐惧的,善于领会的 | |
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24 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
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25 elicited | |
引出,探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26 conversant | |
adj.亲近的,有交情的,熟悉的 | |
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27 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
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28 jot | |
n.少量;vi.草草记下;vt.匆匆写下 | |
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29 investigations | |
(正式的)调查( investigation的名词复数 ); 侦查; 科学研究; 学术研究 | |
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30 shrouded | |
v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 );保密 | |
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31 lengthened | |
(时间或空间)延长,伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
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33 velocity | |
n.速度,速率 | |
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34 incessant | |
adj.不停的,连续的 | |
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35 rhythmical | |
adj.有节奏的,有韵律的 | |
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36 domesticated | |
adj.喜欢家庭生活的;(指动物)被驯养了的v.驯化( domesticate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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38 stolid | |
adj.无动于衷的,感情麻木的 | |
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39 acquiescence | |
n.默许;顺从 | |
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40 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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41 spoke | |
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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42 revolving | |
adj.旋转的,轮转式的;循环的v.(使)旋转( revolve的现在分词 );细想 | |
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43 apathy | |
n.漠不关心,无动于衷;冷淡 | |
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44 entreaties | |
n.恳求,乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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45 renounced | |
v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 );宣布放弃;宣布与…决裂;宣布摒弃 | |
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46 agonized | |
v.使(极度)痛苦,折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 );苦斗;苦苦思索;感到极度痛苦 | |
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47 enacted | |
制定(法律),通过(法案)( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48 garrulous | |
adj.唠叨的,多话的 | |
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49 accomplice | |
n.从犯,帮凶,同谋 | |
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50 custodian | |
n.保管人,监护人;公共建筑看守 | |
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51 portentous | |
adj.不祥的,可怕的,装腔作势的 | |
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52 futility | |
n.无用 | |
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