But Cairn's gaze was set upon a window almost directly ahead, and west below the chimneys. Within the room to which it belonged a lambent light played.
Cairn turned to his companion, a ruddy and athletic8 looking man, somewhat bovine9 in type, who at the moment was busily tracing out sections on a human skull10 and checking his calculations from Ross's Diseases of the Nervous System.
"Sime," he said, "what does Ferrara always have a fire in his rooms for at this time of the year?"
Sime glanced up irritably11 at the speaker. Cairn was a tall, thin Scotsman, clean-shaven, square jawed12, and with the crisp light hair and grey eyes which often bespeak13 unusual virility14.
"Aren't you going to do any work?" he inquired pathetically. "I thought you'd come to give me a
[2]
hand with my basal ganglia. I shall go down on that; and there you've been stuck staring out of the window!"
"Wilson, in the end house, has got a most unusual brain," said Cairn, with apparent irrelevance15.
"Has he!" snapped Sime.
"Yes, in a bottle. His governor is at Bart's; he sent it up yesterday. You ought to see it."
"Nobody will ever want to put your brain in a bottle," predicted the scowling16 Sime, and resumed his studies.
Cairn relighted his pipe, staring across the quadrangle again. Then—
"You've never been in Ferrara's rooms, have you?" he inquired.
"Look here, Cairn," cried Sime, "I've only got a week or so now, and my nervous system is frantically18 rocky; I shall go all to pieces on my nervous system. If you want to talk, go ahead. When you're finished, I can begin work."
"Right-oh," said Cairn calmly, and tossed his pouch19 across. "I want to talk to you about Ferrara."
"Go ahead then. What is the matter with Ferrara?"
"Well," replied Cairn, "he's queer."
"That's no news," said Sime, filling his pipe; "we all know he's a queer chap. But he's popular with women. He'd make a fortune as a nerve specialist."
"He doesn't have to; he inherits a fortune when Sir Michael dies."
"There's a pretty cousin, too, isn't there?" inquired Sime slyly.
"There is," replied Cairn. "Of course," he continued, "my governor and Sir Michael are bosom20 friends, and although I've never seen much of young Ferrara, at the same time I've got nothing against him. But—" he hesitated.
"Spit it out," urged Sime, watching him oddly.
"Well, it's silly, I suppose, but what does he want with a fire on a blazing night like this?"
Sime stared.
[3]
"Perhaps he's a throw-back," he suggested lightly. "The Ferraras, although they're counted Scotch21—aren't they?—must have been Italian originally—"
"Spanish," corrected Cairn. "They date from the son of Andrea Ferrara, the sword-maker, who was a Spaniard. Cæsar Ferrara came with the Armada in 1588 as armourer. His ship was wrecked22 up in the Bay of Tobermory and he got ashore—and stopped."
"Married a Scotch lassie?"
"What habits?"
"Well, look." Cairn waved in the direction of the open window. "What does he do in the dark all night, with a fire going?"
"Nonsense! You've never been in his rooms, have you?"
"No. Very few men have. But as I said before, he's popular with the women."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean there have been complaints. Any other man would have been sent down."
"You think he has influence—"
"Influence of some sort, undoubtedly25."
"Well, I can see you have serious doubts about the man, as I have myself, so I can unburden my mind. You recall that sudden thunderstorm on Thursday?"
"Rather; quite upset me for work."
"I was out in it. I was lying in a punt in the backwater—you know, our backwater."
"Lazy dog."
"To tell you the truth, I was trying to make up my mind whether I should abandon bones and take the post on the Planet which has been offered me."
"Pills for the pen—Harley for Fleet? Did you decide?"
"Not then; something happened which quite changed my line of reflection."
The room was becoming cloudy with tobacco smoke.
"It was delightfully26 still," Cairn resumed. "A
[4]
water rat rose within a foot of me and a kingfisher was busy on a twig27 almost at my elbow. Twilight28 was just creeping along, and I could hear nothing but faint creakings of sculls from the river and sometimes the drip of a punt-pole. I thought the river seemed to become suddenly deserted29; it grew quite abnormally quiet—and abnormally dark. But I was so deep in reflection that it never occurred to me to move.
"Then the flotilla of swans came round the bend, with Apollo—you know Apollo, the king-swan?—at their head. By this time it had grown tremendously dark, but it never occurred to me to ask myself why. The swans, gliding30 along so noiselessly, might have been phantoms31. A hush33, a perfect hush, settled down. Sime, that hush was the prelude34 to a strange thing—an unholy thing!"
Cairn rose excitedly and strode across to the table, kicking the skull out of his way.
"It was something else gathering! Listen! It got yet darker, but for some inexplicable36 reason, although I must have heard the thunder muttering, I couldn't take my eyes off the swans. Then it happened—the thing I came here to tell you about; I must tell somebody—the thing that I am not going to forget in a hurry."
He began to knock out the ash from his pipe.
"The big swan—Apollo—was within ten feet of me; he swam in open water, clear of the others; no living thing touched him. Suddenly, uttering a cry that chilled my very blood, a cry that I never heard from a swan in my life, he rose in the air, his huge wings extended—like a tortured phantom32, Sime; I can never forget it—six feet clear of the water. The uncanny wail38 became a stifled39 hiss40, and sending up a perfect fountain of water—I was deluged—the poor old king-swan fell, beat the surface with his wings—and was still."
"Well?"
[5]
heavy raindrops pattered on the leaves above. I admit I was scared. Apollo lay with one wing right in the punt. I was standing42 up; I had jumped to my feet when the thing occurred. I stooped and touched the wing. The bird was quite dead! Sime, I pulled the swan's head out of the water, and—his neck was broken; no fewer than three vertebrae fractured!"
"It isn't one in a million who could wring44 the neck of a bird like Apollo, Sime; but it was done before my eyes without the visible agency of God or man! As I dropped him and took to the pole, the storm burst. A clap of thunder spoke45 with the voice of a thousand cannon46, and I poled for bare life from that haunted backwater. I was drenched47 to the skin when I got in, and I ran up all the way from the stage."
"Well?" rapped the other again, as Cairn paused to refill his pipe.
"It was seeing the firelight flickering48 at Ferrara's window that led me to do it. I don't often call on him; but I thought that a rub down before the fire and a glass of toddy would put me right. The storm had abated49 as I got to the foot of his stair—only a distant rolling of thunder.
"Then, out of the shadows—it was quite dark—into the flickering light of the lamp came somebody all muffled up. I started horribly. It was a girl, quite a pretty girl, too, but very pale, and with over-bright eyes. She gave one quick glance up into my face, muttered something, an apology, I think, and drew back again into her hiding-place."
"I ran upstairs and banged on Ferrara's door. He didn't open at first, but shouted out to know who was knocking. When I told him, he let me in, and closed the door very quickly. As I went in, a pungent51 cloud met me—incense52."
"Incense?"
[6]
"His rooms smelt53 like a joss-house; I told him so. He said he was experimenting with Kyphi—the ancient Egyptian stuff used in the temples. It was all dark and hot; phew! like a furnace. Ferrara's rooms always were odd, but since the long vacation I hadn't been in. Good lord, they're disgusting!"
"How? Ferrara spent vacation in Egypt; I suppose he's brought things back?"
"Things—yes! Unholy things! But that brings me to something too. I ought to know more about the chap than anybody; Sir Michael Ferrara and the governor have been friends for thirty years; but my father is oddly reticent—quite singularly reticent—regarding Antony. Anyway, have you heard about him, in Egypt?"
"I've heard he got into trouble. For his age, he has a devil of a queer reputation; there's no disguising it."
"What sort of trouble?"
"I've no idea. Nobody seems to know. But I heard from young Ashby that Ferrara was asked to leave."
"There's some tale about Kitchener—"
"By Kitchener, Ashby says; but I don't believe it."
"Well—Ferrara lighted a lamp, an elaborate silver thing, and I found myself in a kind of nightmare museum. There was an unwrapped mummy there, the mummy of a woman—I can't possibly describe it. He had pictures, too—photographs. I shan't try to tell you what they represented. I'm not thin-skinned; but there are some subjects that no man anxious to avoid Bedlam54 would willingly investigate. On the table by the lamp stood a number of objects such as I had never seen in my life before, evidently of great age. He swept them into a cupboard before I had time to look long. Then he went off to get a bath towel, slippers55, and so forth56. As he passed the fire he threw something in. A hissing57 tongue of flame leapt up—and died down again."
"What did he throw in?"
"I am not absolutely certain; so I won't say what I
[7]
think it was, at the moment. Then he began to help me shed my saturated58 flannels59, and he set a kettle on the fire, and so forth. You know the personal charm of the man? But there was an unpleasant sense of something—what shall I say?—sinister. Ferrara's ivory face was more pale than usual, and he conveyed the idea that he was chewed up—exhausted. Beads60 of perspiration61 were on his forehead."
"Heat of his rooms?"
"No," said Cairn shortly. "It wasn't that. I had a rub down and borrowed some slacks. Ferrara brewed62 grog and pretended to make me welcome. Now I come to something which I can't forget; it may be a mere63 coincidence, but—. He has a number of photographs in his rooms, good ones, which he has taken himself. I'm not speaking now of the monstrosities, the outrages64; I mean views, and girls—particularly girls. Well, standing on a queer little easel right under the lamp was a fine picture of Apollo, the swan, lord of the backwater."
"It gave me a sort of shock," continued Cairn. "It made me think, harder than ever, of the thing he had thrown in the fire. Then, in his photographic zenana, was a picture of a girl whom I am almost sure was the one I had met at the bottom of the stair. Another was of Myra Duquesne."
"His cousin?"
"Yes. I felt like tearing it from the wall. In fact, the moment I saw it, I stood up to go. I wanted to run to my rooms and strip the man's clothes off my back! It was a struggle to be civil any longer. Sime, if you had seen that swan die—"
Sime walked over to the window.
"I have a glimmering66 of your monstrous67 suspicions," he said slowly. "The last man to be kicked out of an English varsity for this sort of thing, so far as I know, was Dr. Dee of St. John's, Cambridge, and that's going back to the sixteenth century."
"I know; it's utterly68 preposterous69, of course. But I had to confide70 in somebody. I'll shift off now, Sime."
[8]
Sime nodded, staring from the open window. As Cairn was about to close the outer door:
"Cairn," cried Sime, "since you are now a man of letters and leisure, you might drop in and borrow Wilson's brains for me."
"All right," shouted Cairn.
Down in the quadrangle he stood for a moment, reflecting; then, acting71 upon a sudden resolution, he strode over towards the gate and ascended72 Ferrara's stair.
For some time he knocked at the door in vain, but he persisted in his clamouring, arousing the ancient echoes. Finally, the door was opened.
Antony Ferrara faced him. He wore a silver-grey dressing73 gown, trimmed with white swansdown, above which his ivory throat rose statuesque. The almond-shaped eyes, black as night, gleamed strangely beneath the low, smooth brow. The lank74 black hair appeared lustreless75 by comparison. His lips were very red. In his whole appearance there was something repellently effeminate.
"Is it—something important?" Ferrara's voice was husky but not unmusical.
"Why, are you busy?"
"Well—er—" Ferrara smiled oddly.
"Oh, a visitor?" snapped Cairn.
"Not at all."
"Accounts for your delay in opening," said Cairn, and turned on his heel. "Mistook me for the proctor, in person, I suppose. Good-night."
Ferrara made no reply. But, although he never once glanced back, Cairn knew that Ferrara, leaning over the rail, above, was looking after him; it was as though elemental heat were beating down upon his head.
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1
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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lichened
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| adj.长满地衣的，长青苔的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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bovine
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| adj.牛的；n.牛 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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jawed
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| adj.有颌的有颚的 | |
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bespeak
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| v.预定；预先请求 | |
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virility
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| n.雄劲，丈夫气 | |
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irrelevance
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| n.无关紧要；不相关；不相关的事物 | |
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16
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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17
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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18
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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19
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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20
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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21
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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22
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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genealogy
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| n.家系，宗谱 | |
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influenza
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| n.流行性感冒，流感 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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28
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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29
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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30
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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31
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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32
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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33
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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34
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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35
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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36
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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37
tersely
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| adv. 简捷地, 简要地 | |
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38
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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39
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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40
hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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41
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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42
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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43
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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45
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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46
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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47
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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48
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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49
abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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50
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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51
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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52
incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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53
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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54
bedlam
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| n.混乱，骚乱；疯人院 | |
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55
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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56
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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57
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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58
saturated
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| a.饱和的，充满的 | |
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59
flannels
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| 法兰绒男裤； 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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60
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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61
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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62
brewed
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| 调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 )； 酝酿； 沏（茶）； 煮（咖啡） | |
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63
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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64
outrages
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| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
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65
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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66
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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67
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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68
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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69
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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70
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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71
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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72
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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74
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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75
lustreless
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| adj.无光泽的，无光彩的，平淡乏味的 | |
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76
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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