Night was too far away to wait for. Secure in the feeling of their solitude4 Pen planned to carry Don Counsell what he needed and get back to the house before anyone stirred. Her father arose like clockwork at six and Aunt Maria turned up in the kitchen yawning about that hour, or later. It was a queer thing to visit a man at five o'clock in the morning—but for humanity's sake! He would be asleep in his tent and would never know she had been there until he awoke and found what she had left. Pen's heart gave a queer little jump at the thought of being able to look at him sleeping without any necessity of veiling her eyes.
She billowed softly down the great stairway—it was a treat to stand at the bottom and see Pen come down with her toes pointing—and scampered5 into the pantry. From a high shelf she got down an old primus stove which had not been used in a long time, and cleaned it and filled it with oil. Then she made up a basket of bread, butter, cream, eggs, strawberries, etc., and started out of the house.
Some instinct of caution impelled6 her to put her things down on a chest in the hall, while she gave a preliminary peep out of doors. She was greatly taken aback to discover another young gentleman of the world sitting on the porch playing with one of her innumerable kittens. He sprang up, and snatching off his cap, bade her good morning.
Pen could only stare and stammer7. "Why ... who ... how." Finally she managed to blurt8 out: "Where did you come from?"
His air was ingratiating—a shade too ingratiating perhaps. "Rowed over from the Island," he explained. "I arrived there about three and had a snooze on the seat of my car. As soon as it began to get light I hunted about until I found a skiff with oars9 in it, and came on over. I suppose there'll be a row when the owner finds it gone, but I'll square myself with him later. I knew your house by the cupola."
Pen lacked a key to all this. She looked her further questions.
"I'm on the —— newspaper," he went on cheerfully. "Claude Banner is my name. Last night somebody telephoned from the Island that Don Counsell had been here all day yesterday, so I got a car at once and started. Lost my way a couple of times. I aimed to come here direct by road, but the hills in the woods were washed so badly I had to turn around and go to the Island."
"Mr. Counsell has gone," said Pen. "You have had your journey for nothing."
"Not at all!" he said with his assured and agreeable smile. "It's your story that I came after."
Pen looked at him with a kind of horror. This possibility had not occurred to her. She withdrew into herself. "I have no story to tell," she said coldly.
He was not at all abashed10. "My paper was the only one got the tip last night, and I've got to get my story over the phone in time for the evening edition. You have a phone here I see. The wires were the first things I looked for. It'll be a rare scoop11. There'll be a mob down later."
Pen shivered inwardly and looked down. She was much confused, things were so different from what one imagined. Only last night she had said to herself: "If I could get hold of the men who write for newspapers I'd make them be fair to Don." (She already called him Don in her thoughts.) Well, here was her chance, but the brash young Danner antagonized her so she could scarcely be civil to him. She struggled with her feelings.
"You'll have to excuse me. I don't consider that the public has any interest in me ... or any right to intrude12 upon my privacy! I hate to read that sort of story in the newspapers ... But of course that's not your fault ... I'm willing to answer any proper questions, but I must not be quoted. There must be no descriptions of me or of my home!"
The young man's face fell. "But I've got to tell my story," he protested. "It'll be the scoop of the year. If I don't tell all about you the others will. I can appreciate your feelings, but the others are hard-boiled guys I assure you. But you'll like what I write about you when you see it. Everybody does."
Pen smiled wryly13. "I don't know ... You'll have breakfast with us?"
"Oh no!" he said.
"You must. There's no place else for you to go. And you've been up all night."
He saw that she did not like him, and he appreciated her invincible14 hospitality. "Say, I wish I wasn't here on a story!" he said impulsively15.
"So do I," said Pen. "I must ask you to wait here until I get things started in the house."
"But my story?"
"I'll be back shortly."
Pen went in and put away the things in her basket with a heavy heart. No chance now of seeing Don until night. All day he would be watching for her. In the course of time Aunt Maria turned up and breakfast was set in train.
The "interview" that followed was hardly a success. So few of Danner's questions came under the head of what Pen called "proper" questions. And the way he kept sizing her up out of the corners of his eyes made her stiffer and stiffer. She wished not to be stiff; she wished to win Danner to Don's side. But she soon discovered that it was hopeless; that the young reporter's sole business was to cater16 to the public taste. The sly look that appeared in Danner's eyes when she casually17 expressed a doubt of Don's guilt18 soon put her off that line. Meanwhile she was suffering horribly at the thought of having their poverty exposed in the newspapers. Obviously Banner missed nothing; the rotting porch, the patched screens, that ridiculous barricade19 around her sprouting20 dahlias.
Pendleton Broome presently came downstairs and Danner got along much better with him. The reporter knew just how to set up the little man in his own esteem21. Pendleton admired the newspapers and his greatest pleasure was to see his name in print. So far he had only won to the correspondence columns. Pendleton encouraged, adopted a throaty voice and a magisterial22 air that caused poor Pen to squirm afresh, thinking of the fun the clever young man could have with her father.
During breakfast Pen was obliged to hear the story of the previous day's happenings told and retold with much irrelevant23 detail. Danner exerted himself to please her; he was not a bad sort of fellow; but Pen thinking of the other breakfasting on cold victuals24 and water, resented every swallow of hot coffee that he took.
"When I first read the story in the paper," thus Pendleton, "the fellow was still in the house. He was talking to my daughter in the drawing-room—a very gentlemanly, attractive sort of fellow you understand..."
"So I understand," said Danner, glancing sidelong at Pen.
"But there was something in his eye...!"
Pen could not stand for this. "Why, father," she protested with as good-natured and offhand25 a smile as she could muster26, "be fair! You never discovered that 'something' until you read the paper."
"You are wrong, my dear. From the first I was aware of a curious prejudice against him. But of course I could not let it show while he was our guest."
Pen smiling at whatever cost, let it go.
"Where was I?" asked Pendleton.
Danner prompted: "He was in the drawing-room."
"Oh yes! For the moment I was at a loss. Frightfully awkward situation. By the time I had resolved on a course of action he had left the house without bidding me good-night!"
"Without bidding you good-night!" echoed Danner.
"Without bidding me good-night!"
Danner turned to Pen. "Why do you suppose he didn't say good-night to your father?"
"I don't know," said Pen carelessly. "I suppose he forgot."
"Perhaps he had a glimpse of the newspaper?"
"He couldn't see my father from where he was."
"Did he seem agitated27?"
"Not in the least."
"What did you do then?" Danner asked Pendleton.
"My first plan was to get the lighthouse keeper to help me apprehend28 the fellow. But as I was setting out from the house my daughter had a sudden attack..."
Danner had the grace not to look at Pen, but she was aware of his sharp spring to attention.
"And as I was obliged to go to the Island for the doctor I decided29 to let him help me. But when we got back the fellow had struck his tent and pushed off."
"That taken in connection with his failure to bid you good-night..." suggested Danner.
"Exactly!" said Pendleton.
Pen felt she would scream if she were obliged to listen to any more of this. Making believe to discover an errand in the kitchen, she left the room.
When she came back Danner asked with hypocritical solicitude30: "Are you quite well again this morning?"
"Perfectly," said Pen.
Useless to expect anything from Danner. Though he was clearly sensible to Pen's charm, the story was everything to him, and his nostrils31 were quivering now on the scent32 of a story much more dramatic than he had expected.
Pendleton went on: "Doctor Hance is coming back in a motor-boat this morning, and we will search the bay shore.... We have an idea of the direction he took," he added mysteriously.
"Wish you luck," said Danner. "We had a message from New York last night that a reward of five thousand dollars had been offered for Counsell's capture."
He looked at Pen as he said it. She kept her eyes down, and rested her hands on the edge of the table that they might not shake.
"What!" cried Pendleton. "Well! ... that lets me out then. No business for a gentleman, of course."
Pen's sore heart warmed gratefully towards her father.
"Who offers the reward?" Pen asked quietly. (Poor Pen! She suspected that her parade of indifference33 would never deceive the sharp-eyed reporter. What she ought to have shown was a frank, natural interest in the matter. But that was beyond her powers of dissimulation34.)
"Ernest Riever, the well-known millionaire," said Danner. "An intimate friend of the murdered man, I believe."
When they finished breakfast several motor-boats were seen coming across from the Island. Danner made haste to get his story over the phone. This was an ordeal35 for Pen. The connection was bad, and Danner had to shout his "human interest" stuff at the top of his lungs. Pen went to her room and shut the door, and buried her head in the pillows. Still she could hear the horrible sentences that outraged37 every feeling of privacy she had. After that she gave up all pretense38 of trying to be agreeable to Danner.
The first comers from the Island were volunteer searchers. News of the reward had been telephoned down from Baltimore. They came to Broome's Point with the instinct of picking up the trail where it started, forgetting that water holds no tracks. One spot around the shores was as good as another to begin the search. Dr. Hance was not among them. Possibly the reward had put him off too. Others who had not the initiative to institute a search, merely came to hang around and stare and ask foolish questions. A little later Captain Spinney brought over a whole party of reporters from Washington, Baltimore and Philadelphia. These gentlemen undertook to interview Pen in a body. She liked them less than young Danner. She referred them to her father, and fled to her room.
Pendleton, enthroned on the porch, the center of interest for the crowd, was in his element. He graciously accepted the reporters' excellent cigars, and little by little, without realizing it, embroidered39 on his tale. In an expansive moment he asked them to lunch en masse, and then in terror went to Pen to tell her what he had done.
She merely nodded. "There's enough for one meal. But we'll run short at supper."
She gave the necessary orders for the meal, but declined to appear herself. Not until she knew the men were all gathered around the table did she venture to come down the back stairs and see to some of the things that had been left undone40 that distracted morning. Then she shut herself up again.
During the afternoon an automobile41 with a broken spring managed to win through by the road. It brought a load of New York reporters. These in asking their way had spread the news along the Neck, and the poor whites who lived there hidden in the woods began to straggle in in ox-carts, to share in the excitement.
Reporters made themselves at home all over the lower floor of the big house, even in the kitchen where they chaffed Aunt Maria and questioned her adroitly42. This was a source of great uneasiness to Pen. She was divided between anxiety and indignation. There was something old English in Pen. Thus to have her castle invaded was the greatest outrage36 she could conceive of. But what could she do? She experienced a sickening loss of identity.
She could not stay in her room all the time. Whenever she went downstairs it was to be waylaid43 by one or half a dozen inquisitors who according to their natures tried to cajole her or to entrap44 her into answering their questions. Meanwhile the natives pressed their faces against the windows and stared in. Finally Pen sought her father.
"How long have I got to submit to this?" she demanded.
"To what, my dear?" he asked, sparring for time.
"To having my house overrun by strangers!"
"Patience, my child. They're not doing any real harm."
"But our house, our house? Have we no rights in it?"
"I know, I know. But what can I do?"
"Request them to leave. They can at least wait outside the fence."
"But my dear!" said Pendleton aghast. "We've got to stand in well with the Press. Suppose they were to give the impression in their stories that we were concealing45 this fellow!" This was accompanied by his furtive46 glance of suspicion.
Pen thought in dismay: "One of them has put that idea into his head!" She said no more, but marched indignantly back to her room.
Worse trials were in store for her. About five, from her window she saw a new party of men come in by the drive. Even at the distance she could see that they differed subtly from the reporters, stupider looking men who carried themselves with the arrogance47 of conscious rectitude. After awhile Aunt Maria came to the door of her room, the whites of her eyes showing.
"Miss Penny, honey," she gasped48. "Yo' Paw say, please to come downstairs."
"What's the matter, Aunt Maria?"
"Detecatifs, honey!" said Aunt Maria in an awe-struck whisper. "Detecatifs fum Noo Yawk!"
Without bestirring herself at all, Pen changed her dress and went slowly downstairs. As soon as she entered the drawing-room she regretted her dilatoriness49, for they already had Aunt Maria on the carpet, and the old negress was sweating in agitation50. Pen instantly conceived a violent dislike of her inquisitor. He was a bull-necked, ageing man with pendulous51 cheeks and dull, irascible blue eyes. He lolled in a chair by the window, with an arm over the back, and his fingers interlaced. He nodded to Pen and curtly52 requested her to be seated.
Pen flared53 up inwardly. ("Asking me to sit down in my own house!") In order to show that she was still mistress there, she moved calmly about the room, setting things in order. They had presumed to shove her center table over to the fireplace to give themselves room. She shoved it back. The chief with an annoyed glance resumed his questioning of the scared negress.
The room was full of people. There were four lesser54 officers grouped around the chief's chair. The reporters were gathered in a group under the arch that led to the back drawing-room. Pen soon learned that there was an excellent working agreement between these two parties, the reporters dependent on the detectives for news, and the detectives dependent on the reporters for public recognition of their efforts. Over by the other front window sat Pendleton, leaning back in an old swivel chair, trying to appear at his ease.
Aunt Maria was saying: "Soon as Mist' Pendleton go out Ah undress Miss Penny and put her in baid. She done drap right off lak a kitten."
"Then what did you do?" the man asked in the rasping voice inquisitors affect.
"Me? Ah didn't do nuffin, suh. Ah jes sot."
"Did you go to sleep too?"
"Ah reckon Ah did."
"How long did you sleep?"
"'Deed I caint tell. I aint know nuffin else till Miss Penny wake me up again."
"So she woke you up?"
Aunt Maria perceived that she had made a slip. "Yessuh! Yessuh!" she stammered55. "Miss Penny done want a drink of watah."
"How did she wake you?"
Again Aunt Maria's tongue slipped. "She done shook mah ahm."
"So she was out of bed?"
"No suh! No suh!" cried Aunt Maria in a panic. "I misrecollect that. She jes hollered at me."
It would have been patent to a child that Aunt Maria was lying. The scene was intolerable to Pen's pride.
"Aunt Maria, tell the truth," she said sharply.
The poor old negress turned a face of complete dismay to her mistress. What was she to make of this? In her confusion she was unable to get anything else out.
To Pen the chief detective said harshly: "Please be silent, Miss. You will have a chance to tell your story in a minute."
Pen's eyes blazed. "You are not to suppose that you are entrapping56 me or my servant!" she said hotly. "I have no objection to your knowing that I went down to the beach last night and warned Mr. Counsell that he was liable to arrest!"
It had the effect of a bombshell there in the room. For a second all the men stared at Pen open-mouthed. Then of one accord the reporters made a rush out into the hall where the telephone was. He who first laid hand on it was allowed to get his call in first. Pen was too angry now to be terrified by further publicity57. Their precipitancy merely disgusted her. Was there no such thing as human dignity?
Pendleton Broome's swivel chair had come forward with a snap. He looked clownish. He was the only one really surprised by Pen's disclosure. What astonished the others was that she should have admitted it. For a fleeting58 instant Pen felt sorry for the little man, but she had too much on her mind for the feeling to linger. The detective was not surprised, but he had counted on dragging out the admission, and it annoyed him excessively to have it flung in his face. He affected59 to be consulting with his subordinates while he recovered himself.
"You had better question me," Pen said. "Aunt Maria knows nothing more."
"Allow me to be the judge of that," he said sarcastically60.
Pen shrugged61. He went on questioning the negress, but she was reduced to a gibbering state. In the end he had to let her go. Aunt Maria hung in the hall, just around the corner of the door, listening with stretched ears. The reporters straggled back into the room.
Pen and the detective faced each other. The man cleared his throat and settled his collar, gave attention to his finger nails, and glanced carelessly out of the window—all time-honored devices to break up the composure of one's opponent. Pen merely looked at him. Suddenly he rasped at her:
"So you assisted this murderer to escape?"
"Don't speak to me like that," said Pen quietly, with heightened color. "He is not yet proved a murderer." Meanwhile her inner voice was saying despairingly: "You should not antagonize him! You should not antagonize him!" But it was impossible for her to act otherwise towards this great, stupid bully62.
He smiled disagreeably; nevertheless he modified his tone. "What did you do it for?" he asked.
"He had had dinner and supper with us," said Pen. "I differed with my father as to its being our duty to inform against him."
"Where did he go from here?"
"I don't know."
"What! It was a bright moonlight night. Didn't you have interest enough to watch which way he went after having warned him?"
"He paddled straight out from the shore. I didn't wait. The motor-boat was coming back."
"Why didn't they see your tracks in the sand?"
"I walked at the edge of the water."
"What did you want to deceive your father for?"
"I beg your pardon," said Pen with her chin up. "That is between my father and me."
The detective abandoned this line of questioning. "Didn't Counsell tell you where he was going?" he demanded.
"No."
"Didn't you talk down on the beach?"
"Certainly."
"What about?"
"I had to tell him what was in the newspaper."
"Didn't he know already?"
"He did not."
The detective looked around at his subordinates with a leer, and they all laughed. Instead of disconcerting Pen it had the effect of stiffening63 her. She looked at one after another so steadily64 that their eyes suddenly found business elsewhere.
The chief said suddenly with the air of one springing a disagreeable surprise: "Had you ever seen Counsell before yesterday?"
"Never," said Pen.
"Are you sure of that?"
Pen merely looked at him.
"Answer my question, please!"
"I have already answered it."
"Do you expect me to believe that you undertook to save a total stranger from the law?"
"I have stated the facts."
The detective sprang to his feet and shook a violent forefinger65 at Pen—the old trick of the inquisitor. "You have seen this man before!"
"Don't shout at me," said Pen coolly. "I am not a criminal."
"As to that we'll see," he said ominously66. "Did you ever hear of accessory after the fact."
"Well, if I am a criminal," said Pen, "I don't have to testify against myself."
"Don't argue with me if you please," he said. "Just answer my questions."
"Answer me a question if you please," said Pen clearly.
He stared. He was not accustomed to having the tables turned like this.
Before he could explode Pen asked her question: "You are from New York, aren't you?"
"What of it?"
"What are your rights in Maryland?"
His face turned ugly. "You'll see!" He addressed one of his men. "Keesing, you have heard this young woman's admissions. There's a justice of the peace over on the Island. Go to him and make the necessary affidavit67 to secure a warrant for her arrest."
The man left the room. Pen believed this to be a bluff68, and scornfully smiled. Her father was impressed though. He wilted69 down in his chair, and put out an imploring70 hand towards his daughter. He was incapable71 of speaking.
"Do you want anything else of me?" Pen coolly asked her questioner.
Seeing that his threat had failed of effect, the detective judged it prudent72 not to prolong this scene. "That is all for the present," he said loftily. "You will please not leave the house."
"Thank you," said Pen, "but until I am arrested I shall do just what I am accustomed to do."
She left the room with her head up and went on up the stairs. She was not at all pleased with herself though. That inner voice said remorselessly: "You have only angered him without doing Don any good." To be sure, she had seen sympathy in the eyes of some of the reporters, but they could not say anything of course that might endanger their working agreement with the detectives. At the thought of danger to herself Pen smiled. She was in the frame of mind that welcomes persecution73. But her heart was full of terror for Don. She had not foreseen that the place would be overrun like this. He was so near! And the detective's order to remain in the house suggested that they suspected he might still be on the place.
On her knees at her front window she watched the men leave the house in a body. Some shrubbery cut off her view of the gate, and she could not tell which way they turned after passing through it. Fortunately but an hour or two of daylight remained.
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收听单词发音
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1
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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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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scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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blurt
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| vt.突然说出，脱口说出 | |
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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12
intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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cater
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| vi.(for/to)满足，迎合；(for)提供饮食及服务 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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barricade
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| n.路障，栅栏，障碍；vt.设路障挡住 | |
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sprouting
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| v.发芽( sprout的现在分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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magisterial
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| adj.威风的，有权威的；adv.威严地 | |
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irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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victuals
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| n.食物；食品 | |
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offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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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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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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apprehend
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| vt.理解，领悟，逮捕，拘捕，忧虑 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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dissimulation
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| n.掩饰，虚伪，装糊涂 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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waylaid
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| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entrap
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| v.以网或陷阱捕捉，使陷入圈套 | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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dilatoriness
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| n.迟缓，拖延 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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pendulous
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| adj.下垂的；摆动的 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entrapping
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的现在分词 ) | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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stiffening
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| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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affidavit
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| n.宣誓书 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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