To this peculiarity9 of the human mind was due, no doubt, the fact that no sooner had I abandoned the clinical side of my profession in favour of the legal, and taken up my abode10 in the chambers11 of my friend Thorndyke, the famous medico-legal expert, to act as his assistant or junior, than my former mode of life—that of a locum tenens, or minder of other men's practices—which had, when I was following it, seemed intolerably irksome, now appeared to possess many desirable features; and I found myself occasionally hankering to sit once more by the bedside, to puzzle out the perplexing train of symptoms, and to wield12 that power—the greatest, after all, possessed13 by man—the power to banish14 suffering and ward15 off the approach of death itself.
Hence it was that on a certain morning of the long vacation I found myself installed at The Larches16, Burling, in full charge of the practice of my old friend Dr. Hanshaw, who was taking a fishing holiday in Norway. I was not left desolate17, however, for Mrs. Hanshaw remained at her post, and the roomy, old-fashioned house accommodated three visitors in addition. One of these was Dr. Hanshaw's sister, a Mrs. Haldean, the widow of a wealthy Manchester cotton factor; the second was her niece by marriage, Miss Lucy Haldean, a very handsome and charming girl of twenty-three; while the third was no less a person than Master Fred, the only child of Mrs. Haldean, and a strapping18 boy of six.
"It is quite like old times—and very pleasant old times, too—to see you sitting at our breakfast-table, Dr. Jervis." With these gracious words and a friendly smile, Mrs. Hanshaw handed me my tea-cup.
I bowed. "The highest pleasure of the altruist," I replied, "is in contemplating19 the good fortune of others."
Mrs. Haldean laughed. "Thank you," she said. "You are quite unchanged, I perceive. Still as suave20 and as—shall I say oleaginous?"
"No, please don't!" I exclaimed in a tone of alarm.
"Then I won't. But what does Dr. Thorndyke say to this backsliding on your part? How does he regard this relapse from medical jurisprudence to common general practice?"
"Thorndyke," said I, "is unmoved by any catastrophe21; and he not only regards the 'Decline and Fall-off of the Medical Jurist' with philosophic22 calm, but he even favours the relapse, as you call it. He thinks it may be useful to me to study the application of medico-legal methods to general practice."
"That sounds rather unpleasant—for the patients, I mean," remarked Miss Haldean.
"Very," agreed her aunt. "Most cold-blooded. What sort of man is Dr. Thorndyke? I feel quite curious about him. Is he at all human, for instance?"
"He is entirely23 human," I replied; "the accepted tests of humanity being, as I understand, the habitual24 adoption25 of the erect26 posture27 in locomotion28, and the relative position of the end of the thumb—"
"I don't mean that," interrupted Mrs. Haldean. "I mean human in things that matter."
"I think those things matter," I rejoined. "Consider, Mrs. Haldean, what would happen if my learned colleague were to be seen in wig29 and gown, walking towards the Law Courts in any posture other than the erect. It would be a public scandal."
"Don't talk to him, Mabel," said Mrs. Hanshaw; "he is incorrigible30. What are you doing with yourself this morning, Lucy?"
Miss Haldean (who had hastily set down her cup to laugh at my imaginary picture of Dr. Thorndyke in the character of a quadruped) considered a moment.
"Then, in that case," said I, "I can carry your traps for you, for I have to see a patient in Bradham."
"He is making the most of his time," remarked Mrs. Haldean maliciously32 to my hostess. "He knows that when Mr. Winter arrives he will retire into the extreme background."
Douglas Winter, whose arrival was expected in the course of the week, was Miss Haldean's fiancé. Their engagement had been somewhat protracted33, and was likely to be more so, unless one of them received some unexpected accession of means; for Douglas was a subaltern in the Royal Engineers, living, with great difficulty, on his pay, while Lucy Haldean subsisted34 on an almost invisible allowance left her by an uncle.
I was about to reply to Mrs. Haldean when a patient was announced, and, as I had finished my breakfast, I made my excuses and left the table.
Half an hour later, when I started along the road to the village of Bradham, I had two companions. Master Freddy had joined the party, and he disputed with me the privilege of carrying the "traps," with the result that a compromise was effected, by which he carried the camp-stool, leaving me in possession of the easel, the bag, and a large bound sketching35-block.
"Just off the road to the left there, at the edge of the wood. Not very far from the house of the mysterious stranger." She glanced at me mischievously37 as she made this reply, and chuckled38 with delight when I rose at the bait.
"What house do you mean?" I inquired.
"Ha!" she exclaimed, "the investigator39 of mysteries is aroused. He saith, 'Ha! ha!' amidst the trumpets40; he smelleth the battle afar off."
"You terrify me," said she. "But I will explain, only there isn't any mystery except to the bucolic42 mind. The house is called Lavender Cottage, and it stands alone in the fields behind the wood. A fortnight ago it was let furnished to a stranger named Whitelock, who has taken it for the purpose of studying the botany of the district; and the only really mysterious thing about him is that no one has seen him. All arrangements with the house-agent were made by letter, and, as far as I can make out, none of the local tradespeople supply him, so he must get his things from a distance—even his bread, which really is rather odd. Now say I am an inquisitive43, gossiping country bumpkin."
"I was going to," I answered, "but it is no use now."
She relieved me of her sketching appliances with pretended indignation, and crossed into the meadow, leaving me to pursue my way alone; and when I presently looked back, she was setting up her easel and stool, gravely assisted by Freddy.
My "round," though not a long one, took up more time than I had anticipated, and it was already past the luncheon44 hour when I passed the place where I had left Miss Haldean. She was gone, as I had expected, and I hurried homewards, anxious to be as nearly punctual as possible. When I entered the dining-room, I found Mrs. Haldean and our hostess seated at the table, and both looked up at me expectantly.
"Have you seen Lucy?" the former inquired.
"No," I answered. "Hasn't she come back? I expected to find her here. She had left the wood when I passed just now."
Mrs. Haldean knitted her brows anxiously. "It is very strange," she said, "and very thoughtless of her. Freddy will be famished45."
I hurried over my lunch, for two fresh messages had come in from outlying hamlets, effectually dispelling46 my visions of a quiet afternoon; and as the minutes passed without bringing any signs of the absentees, Mrs. Haldean became more and more restless and anxious. At length her suspense47 became unbearable48; she rose suddenly, announcing her intention of cycling up the road to look for the defaulters, but as she was moving towards the door, it burst open, and Lucy Haldean staggered into the room.
Her appearance filled us with alarm. She was deadly pale, breathless, and wild-eyed; her dress was draggled and torn, and she trembled from head to foot.
"Good God, Lucy!" gasped49 Mrs. Haldean. "What has happened? And where is Freddy?" she added in a sterner tone.
"He is lost!" replied Miss Haldean in a faint voice, and with a catch in her breath. "He strayed away while I was painting. I have searched the wood through, and called to him, and looked in all the meadows. Oh! where can he have gone?" Her sketching "kit," with which she was loaded, slipped from her grasp and rattled50 on to the floor, and she buried her face in her hands and sobbed51 hysterically52.
"And you have dared to come back without him?" exclaimed Mrs. Haldean.
"Of course she was exhausted," said Mrs. Hanshaw. "Come, Lucy: come, Mabel; don't make mountains out of molehills. The little man is safe enough. We shall find him presently, or he will come home by himself. Come and have some food, Lucy."
Miss Haldean shook her head. "I can't, Mrs. Hanshaw—really I can't," she said; and, seeing that she was in a state of utter exhaustion55, I poured out a glass of wine and made her drink it.
Mrs. Haldean darted56 from the room, and returned immediately, putting on her hat. "You have got to come with me and show me where you lost him," she said.
"She can't do that, you know," I said rather brusquely. "She will have to lie down for the present. But I know the place, and will cycle up with you."
"Very well," replied Mrs. Haldean, "that will do. What time was it," she asked, turning to her niece, "when you lost the child? and which way—"
She paused abruptly57, and I looked at her in surprise. She had suddenly turned ashen58 and ghastly; her face had set like a mask of stone, with parted lips and staring eyes that were fixed59 in horror on her niece.
There was a deathly silence for a few seconds. Then, in a terrible voice, she demanded: "What is that on your dress, Lucy?" And, after a pause, her voice rose into a shriek60. "What have you done to my boy?"
I glanced in astonishment61 at the dazed and terrified girl, and then I saw what her aunt had seen—a good-sized blood-stain halfway62 down the front of her skirt, and another smaller one on her right sleeve. The girl herself looked down at the sinister63 patch of red and then up at her aunt. "It looks like—like blood," she stammered64. "Yes, it is—I think—of course it is. He struck his nose—and it bled—"
"Come," interrupted Mrs. Haldean, "let us go," and she rushed from the room, leaving me to follow.
I lifted Miss Haldean, who was half fainting with fatigue65 and agitation66, on to the sofa, and, whispering a few words of encouragement into her ear, turned to Mrs. Hanshaw.
"I can't stay with Mrs. Haldean," I said. "There are two visits to be made at Rebworth. Will you send the dogcart up the road with somebody to take my place?"
"Yes," she answered. "I will send Giles, or come myself if Lucy is fit to be left."
I ran to the stables for my bicycle, and as I pedalled out into the road I could see Mrs. Haldean already far ahead, driving her machine at frantic67 speed. I followed at a rapid pace, but it was not until we approached the commencement of the wood, when she slowed down somewhat, that I overtook her.
"This is the place," I said, as we reached the spot where I had parted from Miss Haldean. We dismounted and wheeled our bicycles through the gate, and laying them down beside the hedge, crossed the meadow and entered the wood.
It was a terrible experience, and one that I shall never forget—the white-faced, distracted woman, tramping in her flimsy house-shoes over the rough ground, bursting through the bushes, regardless of the thorny68 branches that dragged at skin and hair and dainty clothing, and sending forth69 from time to time a tremulous cry, so dreadfully pathetic in its mingling70 of terror and coaxing71 softness, that a lump rose in my throat, and I could barely keep my self-control.
"Freddy! Freddy-boy! Mummy's here, darling!" The wailing72 cry sounded through the leafy solitude73; but no answer came save the whirr of wings or the chatter74 of startled birds. But even more shocking than that terrible cry—more disturbing and eloquent75 with dreadful suggestion—was the way in which she peered, furtively76, but with fearful expectation, among the roots of the bushes, or halted to gaze upon every molehill and hummock77, every depression or disturbance78 of the ground.
So we stumbled on for a while, with never a word spoken, until we came to a beaten track or footpath80 leading across the wood. Here I paused to examine the footprints, of which several were visible in the soft earth, though none seemed very recent; but, proceeding81 a little way down the track, I perceived, crossing it, a set of fresh imprints82, which I recognized at once as Miss Haldean's. She was wearing, as I knew, a pair of brown golf-boots, with rubber pads in the leather soles, and the prints made by them were unmistakable.
"Miss Haldean crossed the path here," I said, pointing to the footprints.
"Don't speak of her before me!" exclaimed Mrs. Haldean; but she gazed eagerly at the footprints, nevertheless, and immediately plunged83 into the wood to follow the tracks.
"You are very unjust to your niece, Mrs. Haldean," I ventured to protest.
She halted, and faced me with an angry frown.
"You don't understand!" she exclaimed. "You don't know, perhaps, that if my poor child is really dead, Lucy Haldean will be a rich woman, and may marry to-morrow if she chooses?"
"I did not know that," I answered, "but if I had, I should have said the same."
She turned away abruptly to resume her pursuit, and I followed in silence. The trail which we were following zigzagged86 through the thickest part of the wood, but its devious87 windings88 eventually brought us out on to an open space on the farther side. Here we at once perceived traces of another kind. A litter of dirty rags, pieces of paper, scraps89 of stale bread, bones and feathers, with hoof-marks, wheel ruts, and the ashes of a large wood fire, pointed90 clearly to a gipsy encampment recently broken up. I laid my hand on the heap of ashes, and found it still warm, and on scattering91 it with my foot a layer of glowing cinders92 appeared at the bottom.
"These people have only been gone an hour or two," I said. "It would be well to have them followed without delay."
A gleam of hope shone on the drawn93, white face as the bereaved94 mother caught eagerly at my suggestion.
"Yes," she exclaimed breathlessly; "she may have bribed95 them to take him away. Let us see which way they went."
We followed the wheel tracks down to the road, and found that they turned towards London. At the same time I perceived the dogcart in the distance, with Mrs. Hanshaw standing96 beside it; and, as the coachman observed me, he whipped up his horse and approached.
"I shall have to go," I said, "but Mrs. Hanshaw will help you to continue the search."
I promised to do so, and as the dogcart now came up, I climbed to the seat, and drove off briskly up the London Road.
The extent of a country doctor's round is always an unknown quantity. On the present occasion I picked up three additional patients, and as one of them was a case of incipient98 pleurisy, which required to have the chest strapped99, and another was a neglected dislocation of the shoulder, a great deal of time was taken up. Moreover, the gipsies, whom I ran to earth on Rebworth Common, delayed me considerably100, though I had to leave the rural constable101 to carry out the actual search, and, as a result, the clock of Burling Church was striking six as I drove through the village on my way home.
I got down at the front gate, leaving the coachman to take the dogcart round, and walked up the drive; and my astonishment may be imagined when, on turning the corner, I came suddenly upon the inspector102 of the local police in earnest conversation with no less a person than John Thorndyke.
"What on earth has brought you here?" I exclaimed, my surprise getting the better of my manners.
"The ultimate motive-force," he replied, "was an impulsive103 lady named Mrs. Haldean. She telegraphed for me—in your name."
"She oughtn't to have done that," I said.
"Perhaps not. But the ethics104 of an agitated105 woman are not worth discussing, and she has done something much worse—she has applied106 to the local J.P. (a retired107 Major-General), and our gallant108 and unlearned friend has issued a warrant for the arrest of Lucy Haldean on the charge of murder."
"But there has been no murder!" I exclaimed.
"That," said Thorndyke, "is a legal subtlety109 that he does not appreciate. He has learned his law in the orderly-room, where the qualifications to practise are an irritable110 temper and a loud voice. However, the practical point is, inspector, that the warrant is irregular. You can't arrest people for hypothetical crimes."
The officer drew a deep breath of relief. He knew all about the irregularity, and now joyfully111 took refuge behind Thorndyke's great reputation.
When he had departed—with a brief note from my colleague to the General—Thorndyke slipped his arm through mine, and we strolled towards the house.
"This is a grim business, Jervis," said he. "That boy has got to be found for everybody's sake. Can you come with me when you have had some food?"
"Of course I can. I have been saving myself all the afternoon with a view to continuing the search."
"Good," said Thorndyke. "Then come in and feed."
A nondescript meal, half tea and half dinner, was already prepared, and Mrs. Hanshaw, grave but self-possessed, presided at the table.
"Mabel is still out with Giles, searching for the boy," she said. "You have heard what she has done!"
I nodded.
"It was dreadful of her," continued Mrs. Hanshaw, "but she is half mad, poor thing. You might run up and say a few kind words to poor Lucy while I make the tea."
I went up at once and knocked at Miss Haldean's door, and, being bidden to enter, found her lying on the sofa, red-eyed and pale, the very ghost of the merry, laughing girl who had gone out with me in the morning. I drew up a chair, and sat down by her side, and as I took the hand she held out to me, she said:
"It is good of you to come and see a miserable112 wretch113 like me. And Jane has been so sweet to me, Dr. Jervis; but Aunt Mabel thinks I have killed Freddy—you know she does—and it was really my fault that he was lost. I shall never forgive myself!"
"You are a silly little woman," I said, "to take this nonsense to heart as you are doing. Your aunt is not responsible just now, as you must know; but when we bring the boy home she shall make you a handsome apology. I will see to that."
She pressed my hand gratefully, and as the bell now rang for tea, I bade her have courage and went downstairs.
"You need not trouble about the practice," said Mrs. Hanshaw, as I concluded my lightning repast, and Thorndyke went off to get our bicycles. "Dr. Symons has heard of our trouble, and has called to say that he will take anything that turns up; so we shall expect you when we see you."
"How do you like Thorndyke?" I asked.
"He is quite charming," she replied enthusiastically; "so tactful and kind, and so handsome, too. You didn't tell us that. But here he is. Good-bye, and good luck."
She pressed my hand, and I went out into the drive, where Thorndyke and the coachman were standing with three bicycles.
"I see you have brought your outfit," I said as we turned into the road; for Thorndyke's machine bore a large canvas-covered case strapped on to a strong bracket.
"Yes; there are many things that we may want on a quest of this kind. How did you find Miss Haldean?"
"Very miserable, poor girl. By the way, have you heard anything about her pecuniary116 interest in the child's death?"
"Yes," said Thorndyke. "It appears that the late Mr. Haldean used up all his brains on his business, and had none left for the making of his will—as often happens. He left almost the whole of his property—about eighty thousand pounds—to his son, the widow to have a life-interest in it. He also left to his late brother's daughter, Lucy, fifty pounds a year, and to his surviving brother Percy, who seems to have been a good-for-nothing, a hundred a year for life. But—and here is the utter folly117 of the thing—if the son should die, the property was to be equally divided between the brother and the niece, with the exception of five hundred a year for life to the widow. It was an insane arrangement."
"Quite," I agreed, "and a very dangerous one for Lucy Haldean, as things are at present."
"Very; especially if anything should have happened to the child."
"What are you going to do now?" I inquired, seeing that Thorndyke rode on as if with a definite purpose.
"There is a footpath through the wood," he replied. "I want to examine that. And there is a house behind the wood which I should like to see."
"The house of the mysterious stranger," I suggested.
We drew up at the entrance to the footpath, leaving Willett the coachman in charge of the three machines, and proceeded up the narrow track. As we went, Thorndyke looked back at the prints of our feet, and nodded approvingly.
"This soft loam," he remarked, "yields beautifully clear impressions, and yesterday's rain has made it perfect."
We had not gone far when we perceived a set of footprints which I recognized, as did Thorndyke also, for he remarked: "Miss Haldean—running, and alone." Presently we met them again, crossing in the opposite direction, together with the prints of small shoes with very high heels. "Mrs. Haldean on the track of her niece," was Thorndyke's comment; and a minute later we encountered them both again, accompanied by my own footprints.
"The boy does not seem to have crossed the path at all," I remarked as we walked on, keeping off the track itself to avoid confusing the footprints.
"We shall know when we have examined the whole length," replied Thorndyke, plodding121 on with his eyes on the ground. "Ha! here is something new," he added, stopping short and stooping down eagerly—"a man with a thick stick—a smallish man, rather lame122. Notice the difference between the two feet, and the peculiar8 way in which he uses his stick. Yes, Jervis, there is a great deal to interest us in these footprints. Do you notice anything very suggestive about them?"
"Nothing but what you have mentioned," I replied. "What do you mean?"
"Well, first there is the very singular character of the prints themselves, which we will consider presently. You observe that this man came down the path, and at this point turned off into the wood; then he returned from the wood and went up the path again. The imposition of the prints makes that clear. But now look at the two sets of prints, and compare them. Do you notice any difference?"
"The returning footprints seem more distinct—better impressions."
"Yes; they are noticeably deeper. But there is something else." He produced a spring tape from his pocket, and took half a dozen measurements. "You see," he said, "the first set of footprints have a stride of twenty-one inches from heel to heel—a short stride; but he is a smallish man, and lame; the returning ones have a stride of only nineteen and a half inches; hence the returning footprints are deeper than the others, and the steps are shorter. What do you make of that?"
"It would suggest that he was carrying a burden when he returned," I replied.
"Yes; and a heavy one, to make that difference in the depth. I think I will get you to go and fetch Willett and the bicycles."
I strode off down the path to the entrance, and, taking possession of Thorndyke's machine, with its precious case of instruments, bade Willett follow with the other two.
When I returned, my colleague was standing with his hands behind him, gazing with intense preoccupation at the footprints. He looked up sharply as we approached, and called out to us to keep off the path if possible.
"Stay here with the machines, Willett," said he. "You and I, Jervis, must go and see where our friend went to when he left the path, and what was the burden that he picked up."
We struck off into the wood, where last year's dead leaves made the footprints almost indistinguishable, and followed the faint double track for a long distance between the dense123 clumps124 of bushes. Suddenly my eye caught, beside the double trail, a third row of tracks, smaller in size and closer together. Thorndyke had seen them, too, and already his measuring-tape was in his hand.
"Eleven and a half inches to the stride," said he. "That will be the boy, Jervis. But the light is getting weak. We must press on quickly, or we shall lose it."
Some fifty yards farther on, the man's tracks ceased abruptly, but the small ones continued alone; and we followed them as rapidly as we could in the fading light.
"There can be no reasonable doubt that these are the child's tracks," said Thorndyke; "but I should like to find a definite footprint to make the identification absolutely certain."
A few seconds later he halted with an exclamation125, and stooped on one knee. A little heap of fresh earth from the surface-burrow of a mole54 had been thrown up over the dead leaves; and fairly planted on it was the clean and sharp impression of a diminutive126 foot, with a rubber heel showing a central star. Thorndyke drew from his pocket a tiny shoe, and pressed it on the soft earth beside the footprint; and when he raised it the second impression was identical with the first.
"The boy had two pairs of shoes exactly alike," he said, "so I borrowed one of the duplicate pair."
He turned, and began to retrace127 his steps rapidly, following our own fresh tracks, and stopping only once to point out the place where the unknown man had picked the child up. When we regained128 the path we proceeded without delay until we emerged from the wood within a hundred yards of the cottage.
"I see Mrs. Haldean has been here with Giles," remarked Thorndyke, as he pushed open the garden-gate. "I wonder if they saw anybody."
He advanced to the door, and having first rapped with his knuckles129 and then kicked at it vigorously, tried the handle.
"Locked," he observed, "but I see the key is in the lock, so we can get in if we want to. Let us try the back."
The back door was locked, too, but the key had been removed.
"He came out this way, evidently," said Thorndyke, "though he went in at the front, as I suppose you noticed. Let us see where he went."
The back garden was a small, fenced patch of ground, with an earth path leading down to the back gate. A little way beyond the gate was a small barn or outhouse.
"We are in luck," Thorndyke remarked, with a glance at the path. "Yesterday's rain has cleared away all old footprints, and prepared the surface for new ones. You see there are three sets of excellent impressions—two leading away from the house, and one set towards it. Now, you notice that both of the sets leading from the house are characterized by deep impressions and short steps, while the set leading to the house has lighter130 impressions and longer steps. The obvious inference is that he went down the path with a heavy burden, came back empty-handed, and went down again—and finally—with another heavy burden. You observe, too, that he walked with his stick on each occasion."
By this time we had reached the bottom of the garden. Opening the gate, we followed the tracks towards the outhouse, which stood beside a cart-track; but as we came round the corner we both stopped short and looked at one another. On the soft earth were the very distinct impressions of the tyres of a motor-car leading from the wide door of the outhouse. Finding that the door was unfastened, Thorndyke opened it, and looked in, to satisfy himself that the place was empty. Then he fell to studying the tracks.
"The course of events is pretty plain," he observed. "First the fellow brought down his luggage, started the engine, and got the car out—you can see where it stood, both by the little pool of oil, and by the widening and blurring131 of the wheel-tracks from the vibration132 of the free engine; then he went back and fetched the boy—carried him pick-a-back, I should say, judging by the depth of the toe-marks in the last set of footprints. That was a tactical mistake. He should have taken the boy straight into the shed."
He pointed as he spoke79 to one of the footprints beside the wheel-tracks, from the toe of which projected a small segment of the print of a little rubber heel.
We now made our way back to the house, where we found Willett pensively133 rapping at the front door with a cycle-spanner. Thorndyke took a last glance, with his hand in his pocket, at an open window above, and then, to the coachman's intense delight, brought forth what looked uncommonly134 like a small bunch of skeleton keys. One of these he inserted into the keyhole, and as he gave it a turn, the lock clicked, and the door stood open.
The little sitting-room135, which we now entered, was furnished with the barest necessaries. Its centre was occupied by an oilcloth-covered table, on which I observed with surprise a dismembered "Bee" clock (the works of which had been taken apart with a tin-opener that lay beside them) and a box-wood bird-call. At these objects Thorndyke glanced and nodded, as though they fitted into some theory that he had formed; examined carefully the oilcloth around the litter of wheels and pinions136, and then proceeded on a tour of inspection137 round the room, peering inquisitively138 into the kitchen and store-cupboard.
"Nothing very distinctive139 or personal here," he remarked. "Let us go upstairs."
There were three bedrooms on the upper floor, of which two were evidently disused, though the windows were wide open. The third bedroom showed manifest traces of occupation, though it was as bare as the others, for the water still stood in the wash-hand basin, and the bed was unmade. To the latter Thorndyke advanced, and, having turned back the bedclothes, examined the interior attentively140, especially at the foot and the pillow. The latter was soiled—not to say grimy—though the rest of the bed-linen141 was quite clean.
"Hair-dye," remarked Thorndyke, noting my glance at it; then he turned and looked out of the open window. "Can you see the place where Miss Haldean was sitting to sketch?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied; "there is the place well in view, and you can see right up the road. I had no idea this house stood so high. From the three upper windows you can see all over the country excepting through the wood."
"Yes," Thorndyke rejoined, "and he has probably been in the habit of keeping watch up here with a telescope or a pair of field-glasses. Well, there is not much of interest in this room. He kept his effects in a cabin trunk which stood there under the window. He shaved this morning. He has a white beard, to judge by the stubble on the shaving-paper, and that is all. Wait, though. There is a key hanging on that nail. He must have overlooked that, for it evidently does not belong to this house. It is an ordinary town latchkey."
He took the key down, and having laid a sheet of notepaper, from his pocket, on the dressing-table, produced a pin, with which he began carefully to probe the interior of the key-barrel. Presently there came forth, with much coaxing, a large ball of grey fluff, which Thorndyke folded up in the paper with infinite care.
"I suppose we mustn't take away the key," he said, "but I think we will take a wax mould of it."
He hurried downstairs, and, unstrapping the case from his bicycle, brought it in and placed it on the table. As it was now getting dark, he detached the powerful acetylene lamp from his machine, and, having lighted it, proceeded to open the mysterious case. First he took from it a small insufflator, or powder-blower, with which he blew a cloud of light yellow powder over the table around the remains143 of the clock. The powder settled on the table in an even coating, but when he blew at it smartly with his breath, it cleared off, leaving, however, a number of smeary144 impressions which stood out in strong yellow against the black oilcloth. To one of these impressions he pointed significantly. It was the print of a child's hand.
He next produced a small, portable microscope and some glass slides and cover-slips, and having opened the paper and tipped the ball of fluff from the key-barrel on to a slide, set to work with a pair of mounted needles to tease it out into its component145 parts. Then he turned the light of the lamp on to the microscope mirror and proceeded to examine the specimen146.
"A curious and instructive assortment147 this, Jervis," he remarked, with his eye at the microscope: "woollen fibres—no cotton or linen; he is careful of his health to have woollen pockets—and two hairs; very curious ones, too. Just look at them, and observe the root bulbs."
I applied my eye to the microscope, and saw, among other things, two hairs—originally white, but encrusted with a black, opaque148, glistening149 stain. The root bulbs, I noticed, were shrivelled and atrophied150.
"But how on earth," I exclaimed, "did the hairs get into his pocket?"
"I think the hairs themselves answer that question," he replied, "when considered with the other curios. The stain is obviously lead sulphide; but what else do you see?"
"I see some particles of metal—a white metal apparently151—and a number of fragments of woody fibre and starch152 granules, but I don't recognize the starch. It is not wheat-starch, nor rice, nor potato. Do you make out what it is?"
FLUFF FROM KEY-BARREL, MAGNIFIED 77 DIAMETERS.
FLUFF FROM KEY-BARREL, MAGNIFIED 77 DIAMETERS.
Thorndyke chuckled. "Experientia does it," said he. "You will have, Jervis, to study the minute properties of dust and dirt. Their evidential value is immense. Let us have another look at that starch; it is all alike, I suppose."
It was; and Thorndyke had just ascertained153 the fact when the door burst open and Mrs. Haldean entered the room, followed by Mrs. Hanshaw and the police inspector. The former lady regarded my colleague with a glance of extreme disfavour.
"We heard that you had come here, sir," said she, "and we supposed you were engaged in searching for my poor child. But it seems we were mistaken, since we find you here amusing yourselves fiddling154 with these nonsensical instruments."
"Perhaps, Mabel," said Mrs. Hanshaw stiffly, "it would be wiser, and infinitely155 more polite, to ask if Dr. Thorndyke has any news for us."
"That is undoubtedly156 so, madam," agreed the inspector, who had apparently suffered also from Mrs. Haldean's impulsiveness157.
"Then perhaps," the latter lady suggested, "you will inform us if you have discovered anything."
"I will tell you." replied Thorndyke, "all that we know. The child was abducted158 by the man who occupied this house, and who appears to have watched him from an upper window, probably through a glass. This man lured159 the child into the wood by blowing this bird-call; he met him in the wood, and induced him—by some promises, no doubt—to come with him. He picked the child up and carried him—on his back, I think—up to the house, and brought him in through the front door, which he locked after him. He gave the boy this clock and the bird-call to amuse him while he went upstairs and packed his trunk. He took the trunk out through the back door and down the garden to the shed there, in which he had a motor-car. He got the car out and came back for the boy, whom he carried down to the car, locking the back door after him. Then he drove away."
"You know he has gone," cried Mrs. Haldean, "and yet you stay here playing with these ridiculous toys. Why are you not following him?"
"We have just finished ascertaining160 the facts," Thorndyke replied calmly, "and should by now be on the road if you had not come."
Here the inspector interposed anxiously. "Of course, sir, you can't give any description of the man. You have no clue to his identity, I suppose?"
"We have only his footprints," Thorndyke answered, "and this fluff which I raked out of the barrel of his latchkey, and have just been examining. From these data I conclude that he is a rather short and thin man, and somewhat lame. He walks with the aid of a thick stick, which has a knob, not a crook161, at the top, and which he carries in his left hand. I think that his left leg has been amputated above the knee, and that he wears an artificial limb. He is elderly, he shaves his beard, has white hair dyed a greyish black, is partly bald, and probably combs a wisp of hair over the bald place; he takes snuff, and carries a leaden comb in his pocket."
As Thorndyke's description proceeded, the inspector's mouth gradually opened wider and wider, until he appeared the very type and symbol of astonishment. But its effect on Mrs. Haldean was much more remarkable162. Rising from her chair, she leaned on the table and stared at Thorndyke with an expression of awe—even of terror; and as he finished she sank back into her chair, with her hands clasped, and turned to Mrs. Hanshaw.
"Jane!" she gasped, "it is Percy—my brother-in-law! He has described him exactly, even to his stick and his pocket-comb. But I thought he was in Chicago."
"If that is so," said Thorndyke, hastily repacking his case, "we had better start at once."
"We have the dogcart in the road," said Mrs. Hanshaw.
"Thank you," replied Thorndyke. "We will ride on our bicycles, and the inspector can borrow Willett's. We go out at the back by the cart-track, which joins the road farther on."
"Then we will follow in the dogcart," said Mrs. Haldean. "Come, Jane."
The two ladies departed down the path, while we made ready our bicycles and lit our lamps.
"With your permission, inspector," said Thorndyke, "we will take the key with us."
"It's hardly legal, sir," objected the officer. "We have no authority."
"It is quite illegal," answered Thorndyke; "but it is necessary; and necessity—like your military J.P.—knows no law."
The inspector grinned and went out, regarding me with a quivering eyelid163 as Thorndyke locked the door with his skeleton key. As we turned into the road, I saw the light of the dogcart behind us, and we pushed forward at a swift pace, picking up the trail easily on the soft, moist road.
"What beats me," said the inspector confidentially164, as we rode along, "is how he knew the man was bald. Was it the footprints or the latchkey? And that comb, too, that was a regular knock-out."
These points were, by now, pretty clear to me. I had seen the hairs with their atrophied bulbs—such as one finds at the margin165 of a bald patch; and the comb was used, evidently, for the double purpose of keeping the bald patch covered and blackening the sulphur-charged hair. But the knobbed stick and the artificial limb puzzled me so completely that I presently overtook Thorndyke to demand an explanation.
"The stick," said he, "is perfectly166 simple. The ferrule of a knobbed stick wears evenly all round; that of a crooked167 stick wears on one side—the side opposite the crook. The impressions showed that the ferrule of this one was evenly convex; therefore it had no crook. The other matter is more complicated. To begin with, an artificial foot makes a very characteristic impression, owing to its purely168 passive elasticity169, as I will show you to-morrow. But an artificial leg fitted below the knee is quite secure, whereas one fitted above the knee—that is, with an artificial knee-joint worked by a spring—is much less reliable. Now, this man had an artificial foot, and he evidently distrusted his knee-joint, as is shown by his steadying it with his stick on the same side. If he had merely had a weak leg, he would have used the stick with his right hand—with the natural swing of the arm, in fact—unless he had been very lame, which he evidently was not. Still, it was only a question of probability, though the probability was very great. Of course, you understand that those particles of woody fibre and starch granules were disintegrated170 snuff-grains."
This explanation, like the others, was quite simple when one had heard it, though it gave me material for much thought as we pedalled on along the dark road, with Thorndyke's light flickering171 in front, and the dogcart pattering in our wake. But there was ample time for reflection; for our pace rather precluded172 conversation, and we rode on, mile after mile, until my legs ached with fatigue. On and on we went through village after village, now losing the trail in some frequented street, but picking it up again unfailingly as we emerged on to the country road, until at last, in the paved High Street of the little town of Horsefield, we lost it for good. We rode on through the town out on to the country road; but although there were several tracks of motors, Thorndyke shook his head at them all. "I have been studying those tyres until I know them by heart," he said. "No; either he is in the town, or he has left it by a side road."
There was nothing for it but to put up the horse and the machines at the hotel, while we walked round to reconnoitre; and this we did, tramping up one street and down another, with eyes bent173 on the ground, fruitlessly searching for a trace of the missing car.
Suddenly, at the door of a blacksmith's shop, Thorndyke halted. The shop had been kept open late for the shoeing of a carriage horse, which was just being led away, and the smith had come to the door for a breath of air. Thorndyke accosted174 him genially175.
"Good-evening. You are just the man I wanted to see. I have mislaid the address of a friend of mine, who, I think, called on you this afternoon—a lame gentleman who walks with a stick. I expect he wanted you to pick a lock or make him a key."
"Oh, I remember him!" said the man. "Yes, he had lost his latchkey, and wanted the lock picked before he could get into his house. Had to leave his motor-car outside while he came here. But I took some keys round with me, and fitted one to his latch142."
He then directed us to a house at the end of a street close by, and, having thanked him, we went off in high spirits.
"How did you know he had been there?" I asked.
"I didn't; but there was the mark of a stick and part of a left foot on the soft earth inside the doorway176, and the thing was inherently probable, so I risked a false shot."
The house stood alone at the far end of a straggling street, and was enclosed by a high wall, in which, on the side facing the street, was a door and a wide carriage-gate. Advancing to the former, Thorndyke took from his pocket the purloined177 key, and tried it in the lock. It fitted perfectly, and when he had turned it and pushed open the door, we entered a small courtyard. Crossing this, we came to the front door of the house, the latch of which fortunately fitted the same key; and this having been opened by Thorndyke, we trooped into the hall. Immediately we heard the sound of an opening door above, and a reedy, nasal voice sang out:
"Hello, there! Who's that below?"
The voice was followed by the appearance of a head projecting over the baluster rail.
"You are Mr. Percy Haldean, I think," said the inspector.
At the mention of this name, the head was withdrawn178, and a quick tread was heard, accompanied by the tapping of a stick on the floor. We started to ascend179 the stairs, the inspector leading, as the authorized180 official; but we had only gone up a few steps, when a fierce, wiry little man danced out on to the landing, with a thick stick in one hand and a very large revolver in the other.
"Move another step, either of you," he shouted, pointing the weapon at the inspector, "and I let fly; and mind you, when I shoot I hit."
THE STRANGER IS RUN TO EARTH.
THE STRANGER IS RUN TO EARTH.
He looked as if he meant it, and we accordingly halted with remarkable suddenness, while the inspector proceeded to parley181.
"Now, what's the good of this, Mr. Haldean?" said he. "The game's up, and you know it."
"You clear out of my house, and clear out sharp," was the inhospitable rejoinder, "or you'll give me the trouble of burying you in the garden."
I looked round to consult with Thorndyke, when, to my amazement182, I found that he had vanished—apparently through the open hall-door. I was admiring his discretion183 when the inspector endeavoured to reopen negotiations184, but was cut short abruptly.
"I am going to count fifty," said Mr. Haldean, "and if you aren't gone then, I shall shoot."
He began to count deliberately185, and the inspector looked round at me in complete bewilderment. The flight of stairs was a long one, and well lighted by gas, so that to rush it was an impossibility. Suddenly my heart gave a bound and I held my breath, for out of an open door behind our quarry186, a figure emerged slowly and noiselessly on to the landing. It was Thorndyke, shoeless, and in his shirt-sleeves.
Slowly and with cat-like stealthiness, he crept across the landing until he was within a yard of the unconscious fugitive187, and still the nasal voice droned on, monotonously188 counting out the allotted189 seconds.
"Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three—"
There was a lightning-like movement—a shout—a flash—a bang—a shower of falling plaster, and then the revolver came clattering190 down the stairs. The inspector and I rushed up, and in a moment the sharp click of the handcuffs told Mr. Percy Haldean that the game was really up.
Five minutes later Freddy-boy, half asleep, but wholly cheerful, was borne on Thorndyke's shoulders into the private sitting-room of the Black Horse Hotel. A shriek of joy saluted191 his entrance, and a shower of maternal192 kisses brought him to the verge193 of suffocation194. Finally, the impulsive Mrs. Haldean, turning suddenly to Thorndyke, seized both his hands, and for a moment I hoped that she was going to kiss him, too. But he was spared, and I have not yet recovered from the disappointment.
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1
makers
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| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
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expound
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| v.详述；解释；阐述 | |
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perverseness
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| n. 乖张, 倔强, 顽固 | |
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engenders
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| v.产生（某形势或状况），造成，引起( engender的第三人称单数 ) | |
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attainment
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| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
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6
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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slaking
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| n.熟化v.满足( slake的现在分词 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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10
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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12
wield
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| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
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13
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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14
banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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larches
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| n.落叶松（木材）( larch的名词复数 ) | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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18
strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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adoption
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| n.采用，采纳，通过；收养 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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locomotion
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| n.运动，移动 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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incorrigible
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| adj.难以纠正的，屡教不改的 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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subsisted
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| v.（靠很少的钱或食物）维持生活，生存下去( subsist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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investigator
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| n.研究者，调查者，审查者 | |
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trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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42
bucolic
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| adj.乡村的；牧羊的 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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44
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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45
famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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dispelling
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的现在分词 ) | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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49
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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50
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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51
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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52
hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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53
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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54
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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56
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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58
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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60
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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61
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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62
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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64
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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65
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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thorny
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| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
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69
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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71
coaxing
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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72
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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73
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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74
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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75
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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76
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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77
hummock
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| n.小丘 | |
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78
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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79
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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80
footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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81
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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82
imprints
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| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
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83
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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84
muddle
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| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
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85
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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86
zigzagged
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| adj.呈之字形移动的v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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88
windings
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| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
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89
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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90
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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91
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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92
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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93
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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94
bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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95
bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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96
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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97
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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98
incipient
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| adj.起初的，发端的，初期的 | |
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99
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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100
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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101
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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102
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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103
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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104
ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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105
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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106
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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107
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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108
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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109
subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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110
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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111
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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112
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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113
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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114
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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115
chide
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| v.叱责；谴责 | |
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116
pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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117
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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118
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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119
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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120
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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121
plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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122
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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123
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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124
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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125
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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126
diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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127
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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128
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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129
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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130
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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131
blurring
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| n.模糊，斑点甚多，（图像的）混乱v.（使）变模糊( blur的现在分词 )；（使）难以区分 | |
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132
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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133
pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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134
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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135
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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136
pinions
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的第三人称单数 ) | |
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137
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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138
inquisitively
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| 过分好奇地； 好问地 | |
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139
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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140
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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141
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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142
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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143
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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144
smeary
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| 弄脏的 | |
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145
component
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| n.组成部分，成分，元件；adj.组成的，合成的 | |
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146
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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147
assortment
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| n.分类，各色俱备之物，聚集 | |
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148
opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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149
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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150
atrophied
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| adj.萎缩的，衰退的v.（使）萎缩，（使）虚脱，（使）衰退( atrophy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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151
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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152
starch
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| n.淀粉；vt.给...上浆 | |
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153
ascertained
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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154
fiddling
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| 微小的 | |
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155
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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156
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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157
impulsiveness
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| n.冲动 | |
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158
abducted
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| 劫持，诱拐( abduct的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（肢体等）外展 | |
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159
lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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160
ascertaining
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的现在分词 ) | |
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161
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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162
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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163
eyelid
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| n.眼睑，眼皮 | |
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164
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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165
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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166
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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167
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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168
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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169
elasticity
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| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
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170
disintegrated
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| v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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171
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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172
precluded
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| v.阻止( preclude的过去式和过去分词 )；排除；妨碍；使…行不通 | |
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173
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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174
accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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175
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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176
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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177
purloined
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| v.偷窃( purloin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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178
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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179
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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180
authorized
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| a.委任的，许可的 | |
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181
parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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182
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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183
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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184
negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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185
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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186
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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187
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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188
monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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189
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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190
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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191
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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192
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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193
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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194
suffocation
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| n.窒息 | |
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