Lestrange frowned.
"You laugh now," he said. "You will weep later. What I say is true. Thorold stole the body of your father--your supposed father!" he sneered4, "for, say what you like, you are my child."
"I don't acknowledge the relationship," retorted the girl with spirit, "and I never will. Mr. Marlow was my father. I shall always think of him as such. As to your accusation of Mr. Thorold, it is merely another trick to cause me trouble. I suppose you will say next that he murdered Dr. Warrender?"
"I say nothing of the sort," replied the Captain, nettled5 by her open contempt, "yet he may have done so, for all I know. But I state only what I can prove."
"You cannot prove this ridiculous charge?" cried the Rector. "Mr. Thorold is incapable6 of such a crime."
"Ah!" drawled the other coolly, "you see, Mr. Thorold is scientific, and does not look upon his deed as a crime."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Mr. Phelps sharply.
"I mean that Mr. Thorold was once a medical student--at least, I have been told as much."
"It is true, quite true," said Sophy, opening her eyes, for in her innocence7 she did not see what the man meant. But the Rector did, and winced8. He anticipated the accuser.
"You mean that Mr. Thorold stole the body for scientific purposes?"
"For dissection10--yes. Mr. Thorold is, I understand, an enthusiast11 in surgery. Marlow--or, rather, I should say, Beauchamp--died of an obscure disease, and Warrender and Thorold removed the body to hold a post-mortem on it. They were the men seen by Cicero Gramp--you see, I know all about it. They probably carried the body to the moor12 hut to dissect9 it. Whether they quarreled or not, I do not know, nor do I know if it was Thorold who killed the doctor. All I say is, that those two stole the body."
"Oh, indeed!" remarked Mr. Phelps ironically, "and Thorold put the remains13 of Dr. Warrender back in the vault14, I suppose? And what did he do with Marlow's body?"
"I don't know. Buried it on the moor, very likely."
"Mr. Thorold had not the key of the vault," cried Sophy indignantly. "It had been stolen by the Quiet Gentleman."
"So I understand," retorted Lestrange sharply. "And who says so? Mr. Thorold himself. Believe me, sir," he turned to the Rector, "that key was never stolen. Thorold had it in his pocket. He lied about that for his own safety."
"I don't believe it," said Mr. Phelps decisively. "Thorold was at Bournemouth on the night the crime was committed."
"I know he was!" cried Sophy, with emphasis. "He was with me and Miss Parsh."
"You are wrong, both of you. He came back to Heathton on that night, and returned to Bournemouth before dawn. I understand it is only an hour's journey from here."
"It is not true," insisted Sophy uneasily. "I saw Mr. Thorold at eight o'clock that night at the Soudan Hotel."
"I dare say. But at ten o'clock he was at Heathton."
"How can you prove that?"
"If you will permit me," said Lestrange, and rising, he left the room.
Before Mr. Phelps and Sophy could exchange a remark, he was back again with a man who had evidently been waiting.
"Jarks!" cried the Rector, much annoyed. "And what has Jarks to do with this preposterous15 story?"
"If you ask him he will tell you," said Lestrange politely, and resumed his seat.
The Rector looked indignantly at his sexton, who, as minor16 official in the church, should have quailed17 before his superior. But there was no quailing18 or cringing19 about Jarks. The old fellow was as malicious20 as a magpie21, and as garrulous22. Looking more rusty23 than ever, he stood twisting his greasy24 old hat, and shifting from one leg to the other.
"Oh, I seed Muster25 Alan; yes, I seed un. On the night o' the funeral I were in the yard, a lookin' at 'em as I'd tucked away, an' I clapped eyes on Muster Alan. He wor' lookin' at the vault where I'd put away the last of 'em, he wor."
"About what time was that?" asked Mr. Phelps, with severity.
"Well, it might be about ten, Muster Phelps, sir."
"And what were you doing out of bed at that hour?"
"Lookin' at 'em," retorted Jarks, wiping his mouth. "Lor' bless you, Muster Phelps, all in the yard's m'own handiwork save some of the old uns. I like to see 'em all quiet an' humble26 in their narrow homes. Ay, an' I seed Muster Alan, an' he sez, 'I've come to look round, Jarks, an' you needn't say as I've bin27 about. Here's money for ye.' Ay, he did say that, an' guv me money. Course I said nothin' as there isn't no law agin folk walkin' round to see how them as has passed away is gettin' along."
"How long was Mr. Thorold with you?"
"It might be about five minutes, sir. He went to ketch a train at the half-hour to go back to Miss Sophy--hopin' I sees you well, miss!" with a pull of his forelock to the girl, who was standing28 pale and trembling at this disastrous29 confirmation30.
"Why didn't you tell me this, Jarks?"
"Lor' bless you, Miss Sophy, 'twas little use vexin' you. 'Sides, when I found Muster Marlow was gone, arter bein' put away comfortable-like in the vault, I did say to Muster Alan arterwards as it wasn't friendly-like of him to upset my handiwork. But Muster Alan he says as he had nowt to do with the takin' of him, an' how he got out of the vault, being screwed and soldered31 down, was more than he knew. So he being the squire32, Miss Sophy, it wasn't my place to say nothin'. I knows the station of life I've bin called to."
"It was your duty to come to me," said the Rector severely33.
"Naw, naw!" Jarks shook his head. "'Tain't no good makin' bad blood, Muster Phelps. Muster Alan wor in the yard, but he didn't take the last of 'em away."
"I say he did!" put in Lestrange, with emphasis.
"Ay, ay! You thinks you knows a lot. But I tell you, you don't. If it wasn't that I let slip to that fat un while mazed34 wi' drink, as I seed Muster Alan, you'd niver have know'd naught35. Naw! But when the wine's in Jarks he talks foolish-like. Ay, he babbles36 as a babe does Jarks!"
"Who is this fat man he speaks of?" asked Sophy.
"My other witness," replied Lestrange promptly37. "You can go, Jarks. Send in Cicero."
The sexton nodded, wiped his mouth, and backed to the door with a final excuse.
"As I wor sayin', Muster Phelps, 'twouldn't be right to blame Jarks for holdin' the tongue o' he, Muster Alan wantin' it so. But the red wine--which is to say, beer an' such like--maketh the heart of Jarks glad, as sez Holy Scripture38. An' I'll go now, wishin' you an' Miss Sophy happiness an' long life."
After which apologetic speech the old sinner creaked out of the room pulling his forelock.
"You see," said Lestrange, with a triumphant39 look at the other two, "Thorold was in Heathton, and in the churchyard on that night."
"It would seem so; but that does not prove he took away the body," put in Sophy.
"My second witness can prove that. Come in, Cicero."
The fat man, resplendent in new clothes, rolled into the room.
"Pax vobiscum," said he.
The Rector turned an angry glance on him.
"This is not the time for playing the fool," he said cuttingly. "You are a cunning rogue40, but some day you will overreach yourself. Now, then, out with your lie."
"Lie! I scorn to pervert41 the truth, reverend sir. I shall tell the truth in puris naturalibus."
"I hope not," threw in the Rector, laughing, in spite of himself, at this abuse of quotation42.
"Which means, reverend sir," went on the old scoundrel coolly, "that in the hut on the heath I found the corpse43 of Dr. Warrender."
"But not the body of my father," said Sophy.
"No, but I saw that taken away from the vault. Undoubtedly44, Miss Marlow, the body was carried to the hut for the purpose of dissection by Mr. Thorold. He was foolish enough to leave behind him evidence of his iniquitous45 purposes. Behold46!" and Cicero produced a lancet in his most dramatic manner. "Nota bene," said he grandly.
Phelps bent47 forward and took the instrument in his hand. It had an ivory handle, on which were carved two letters, "A. T."
"You found this in the hut?" he asked.
"I did, reverend sir. It must have been dropped by Mr. Thorold. If not, how did it come there? I pause for a reply."
"Why did you not tell Mr. Thorold about this?" demanded Sophy.
"I bided48 my time----"
"To blackmail49 him!" she cried, with scorn.
"A harsh word, Miss Sophia. Certainly I would have demanded a small payment from Mr. Thorold, had I shown him that. But Mr. Thorold insulted me, it matters not how. Nemo me impune lacessit, Miss Sophia, and I determined50 to punish the young man. My military friend was good enough to enter into partnership51 with me for the purpose of clearing up this matter, hence I told him of my discovery. There is no more to be said."
"Save this," put in Lestrange, who appeared to be getting somewhat weary of Cicero's cumbersome52 diction, "that here is the proof that it was Thorold who carried off the body. Do you believe now in his guilt53?"
"I reserve my opinion," said the Rector, who could not but acknowledge to himself that things looked black for Alan.
"I don't!" cried Sophy, rising. "If fifty men, with fifty lancets, came to tell me this story, I would not believe a word against Mr. Thorold. He can explain. I believe in him firmly, and, to prove my belief, I shall marry him as soon as I can."
"You'll do nothing of the sort!" cried Lestrange, losing his temper. "I am your father, and I command you to come with me."
"And I am my own mistress, and I refuse," she said quietly. "You can't frighten me. I don't believe your stories."
"Nor do I," said the Rector. "When Mr. Thorold comes back, he will, no doubt, be able to explain his presence in Heathton on that night, and also the loss of his lancet."
"He shall explain it to the police!" cried Lestrange, in a threatening manner.
"No, no," said Cicero, apprehensive54 at this mention of his natural enemies; "let us take counsel together. Cannot this matter be adjusted, so that Mr. Thorold may escape the reward of his iniquitous proceedings55?"
Sophy looked at him with a satirical smile. Then she turned to address Lestrange as the senior partner in this firm of scoundrels.
"How much do you want?" she asked.
The Captain winced. He did not like the question to be put quite so crudely.
"I do not understand," he said.
"I think you do. How much do you require to hold your tongue?"
"Say five thousand," whispered Mr. Gramp.
But Lestrange shook him off, and marched to the door very upright and indignant.
"I will let you know my price----"
"Ah!" said Sophy scornfully.
"When I have seen the police," finished he, and marched out.
Cicero had to follow, but he turned at the door and winked56.
"He will not go to the police," said he, in a hurried voice. "Might I suggest five----"
"Be off, you scoundrel!" cried the Rector indignantly, and thrust him out.
Then he resumed his seat, and looked at Sophy.
"Well?" said he.
"Alan can explain," said she decisively.
"But if Lestrange goes to the police?"
"He won't," she said. "Cicero will stop that. Meanwhile I wait for Alan."
They talked on for a long time, but could come to no conclusion. Undoubtedly Alan had been near the vault on that night, had been in the hut, and had said nothing of these things to any one. It certainly looked suspicious, but Sophy insisted that her lover could and would explain. In spite of appearances, she had faith in Alan's honesty and in Alan's honor.
That same evening she dined with the Rector, without even Miss Vicky in attendance.
Towards the end of the meal, Alan walked in unexpectedly. He looked somewhat downcast, but there was no sign of fear in his bearing. After greetings had been exchanged he sat down with them. Neither the Rector nor Sophy was anxious to inform him of the accusation which had been brought against him.
"How went the business?" asked Mr. Phelps.
"Badly--for us," was the reply. "Lestrange certainly arrived by the boat he said he came by. I saw his name, Achille Lestrange, on the passenger-list of the Negress."
"Ah! the devil speaks true sometimes!" said the Rector. "And what about Beauchamp?"
"Yes, yes!" cried Sophy. "Did you find him? Did you see him?"
"No," replied Alan quietly, "but I heard of him. Beauchamp is dead!"
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收听单词发音
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1
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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4
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nettled
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| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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7
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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8
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
dissect
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| v.分割；解剖 | |
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dissection
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| n.分析；解剖 | |
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enthusiast
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| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
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12
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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17
quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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quailing
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的现在分词 ) | |
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cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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magpie
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| n.喜欢收藏物品的人，喜鹊，饶舌者 | |
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garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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26
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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28
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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soldered
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| v.（使）焊接，焊合( solder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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mazed
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| 迷惘的，困惑的 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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36
babbles
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| n.胡言乱语( babble的名词复数 )；听不清的声音；乱哄哄的说话声v.喋喋不休( babble的第三人称单数 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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39
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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40
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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41
pervert
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| n.堕落者，反常者；vt.误用，滥用；使人堕落，使入邪路 | |
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42
quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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43
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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45
iniquitous
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| adj.不公正的；邪恶的；高得出奇的 | |
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46
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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47
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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48
bided
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| v.等待，停留( bide的过去式 )；居住；等待；面临 | |
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49
blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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50
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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51
partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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52
cumbersome
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| adj.笨重的，不便携带的 | |
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53
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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54
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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55
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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56
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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