Bob Otway was less sentimental1. He confessed that he felt a little down, and he added the information that the concierge2 was a "nut." There had been great "events" last night after Dick went to bed to dream of Marjory; much damage had been done. All this would be charged for when the weekly bills were sent on, and as Bob asked ruefully: "What do you think a 'cello3's worth, Dick; is it worth thirty shillings?" By which he implied the destruction of such an instrument and his own share therein.
"It was Rivers who began it," he explained, as they strolled about arm in arm, waiting for the bell to announce morning coffee: "He tried to hang up the big clock in the hall with a drawing pin, and when the concierge spotted4 him, Billy Godeyer was doing the same for the picture of the Battle of Sedan. Then Rivers found that the band had left their instruments behind in the drawing-room, and we had a concert. Never saw such rot; I played the 'cello and all the hair came out of the bow before I'd sawed out half a tune6. They say we smashed five notes in the piano, but I don't believe it. Old Gordon Snagg doesn't like noise, so we played on his account; he'd pay the damage if he were a gentleman."
Dick agreed to that, but didn't much care to talk about music. The night had brought pleasant dreams of Marjory. He really was rather sorry that they had chosen the "little widow" for their ambassador.
"We were in too much of a hurry," he said, arguing in a philosophical7 if amatory vein8. "Why not let it run until we get back to England? It's beastly to think about money in such a place as this, and I'm sure Marjory would hate me for doing it. I'll speak to my uncle when I get back, and he might do something for me. Perhaps he'll send me out to Canada; there's lots of cash to be made there, and why shouldn't we make some of it? Let's have some fun, Bob. You're such a gloomy beggar; you always look at things in the worst light."
Bob retorted that it depended upon the age of the lady; a vague and half-truthful remembrance of the havoc9 which the sun had played with the otherwise peach-like skin of a nameless nymph. The morning found him in a dubious-mood about Nellie, but less alarmed about the enormity of the offence. She really was a "jolly little girl," and it had been quite impossible not to propose to her in the circumstances. With good luck, her views upon the final step of matrimony might be as distant as his own. And who could say that something would not turn up?
"Mrs. Rider will make the devil of a row about it, and we shall have to clear out," he said musingly10. "I know she brought the girls here to get 'em off, but she won't think very much of the particular planks11 for this particular plunge12. I'm sorry, too, that we spoke13 to the 'little widow.' It's rather jolly to be thought rich, though it wouldn't be honest to the girls to leave them under that impression. I shall tell Nellie just what I've got when we're up in the wood this morning. Two hundred a year sounds all right when someone else is paying your hotel bill. It's when you come to running a pug dog and a motor-car that you find where the slice pinches."
"But one would begin in a small way, Bob."
Bob shook his head.
"That's what the modern girl tells you; she follows it up with the hint that she'd like a flat overlooking the park, and really couldn't live in Bayswater. It's a day of big ideas and little balances. I believe my old guv'nor was right when he said that money was the greatest curse that ever came into the world. There'd be a lot of happiness if it wasn't for money, Dick. Think of it, if fashion wasn't so rotten, we might camp out the first year, live in a tent for two, and sleep by the roadside. I'm told it's healthy, and I know Mecredy did it. There'd be no rent to pay, and we might sell our portraits as an advertisement for a tonic14. As it is, we've just got to own up that we're paupers15; and if the girls take pity on us—well, we'll feel smaller than ever."
Dick was not so sure of it. Ancient fables16 concerning the angelic qualities of the sex still buoyed17 him up with youthful hopes.
"Oh," he said loftily, "that's all rot, Bob. Money's something, of course, but lots of girls don't think much about it. Look at old Gordon Snagg. He's supposed to be worth half a million; they say he paid ten thousand for his knighthood; do you think Marjory would have had him if he'd have proposed to her? Give sentiment half a chance. Surely, it is possible to believe that the girl you're going to marry has some other ideas but those of your bank balance?"
Bob would not give in.
"Wait until old Mrs. Rider gets going," he exclaimed sententiously. "We shall hear some home truths then, old chap, and just when we were beginning to enjoy ourselves. By Jove, isn't it a day! Look at the sun on the old Rothhorn; isn't it splendid, Dick? and it rises upon our hour of woe18. Well, I suppose the ancient martyrs19 went through this kind of thing; but I'm hanged if I wouldn't sooner go to the dentist any day. What shall we say to the old girl? How shall we tell her that the truth—?"
"I shall tell her for Marjory's sake. Why, I believe she's up at the window there, and Nellie as well. Don't you see them, Bob?"
The girls were giggling20 behind the sun-blind of a third-floor window, but they disappeared almost instantly when their object of attracting attention had been achieved. It still wanted ten minutes to the first breakfast-bell, and a few active folk had now appeared to enjoy the sunshine, or to drag luges up the ice-run and have a "canter" down before the coffee. The latter idea appealed to the boys; and getting their luges from the hall, they went up to the starting-point. This was the moment, however, when a little procession appeared upon the mountain track above them; and being attracted by the novelty of the spectacle, they stood to see it pass.
"They're soldiers, aren't they, Bob?"
"Looks very much like it. What can they be doing up here?"
"Would it be about the story? Surely, they can't have found the man?"
"I wouldn't wonder; why, here's our little Frenchman, who wanted to tell us all about it yesterday. He'll know what's up; let's ask him."
"But he doesn't understand your French!"
Bob was not to be daunted21. Walking across the snow to the edge of the wood, he took off his hat to the Frenchman, and asked him the question: "What are they doing up there, monsieur?"
The reply overwhelmed the young man by its velocity22. He caught the word un mort, or thought that he did; but so great was the stranger's desire to tell him that a flood of terrible English followed upon the outbreak. The soldiers had been searching the snow for the body of a comrade, so much Bob made of it; and not only had they been searching, but the quest had been successful. They were now carrying the dead man down to Andana, whence the body would be conveyed in a sleigh to Martigny. With which intimation, and some incoherent reflections upon the whole tragedy, the Frenchman turned upon his heel and left them. His own curiosity would take him some distance in the wake of the procession. Like all his race, the psychology23 of crime fascinated him beyond any other study.
The youths, in their turn, were not a little awed5 by this gruesome spectacle, nor could they remain insensible to its romance. Down below, upon the plateau, were the first of the merrymakers, the outposts of a vigorous life, the careless creatures of laughter and the sunshine. Here upon the height, beneath a tracery of silver, upon a path still in shadow, were the emblems24 of death and eternal sleep. Stern figures, whose footfalls fell soft upon the untrodden snow, moved with military rhythm about the body of their comrade. None spoke, none paused, the faces of all were hard set and expressionless. To-morrow the whole of Switzerland would be talking of this crime; to-day it was but a muttered whisper, which hardly echoed in the woods which harboured it.
But of this the lads knew nothing, and when the procession disappeared from their view they went racing25 down to the Palace; where they arrived at the precise moment of Miss Marjory and Miss Nellie Rider's appearance, in virginal white.
The "girls" were dreadfully important people this morning. And how little they thought of the married women!
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1
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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2
concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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3
cello
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| n.大提琴 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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5
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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7
philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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8
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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9
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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11
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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12
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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13
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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14
tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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15
paupers
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| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
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fables
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| n.寓言( fable的名词复数 )；神话，传说 | |
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17
buoyed
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| v.使浮起( buoy的过去式和过去分词 )；支持；为…设浮标；振奋…的精神 | |
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18
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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19
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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20
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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21
daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
velocity
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| n.速度，速率 | |
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23
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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24
emblems
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| n.象征，标记( emblem的名词复数 ) | |
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25
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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