Curiously6 enough, although refusing to be guided by me, he made no suggestion on his own account. He was racked by fear and suspense7, yet his only idea of solving difficulties seemed to be that of waiting. He did nothing. He simply waited, as if he expected that chance would bring what he should have been searching for high and low.
Some days passed before I could get a tardy8 consent that aid should be sought. Even then he would not go to the proper quarter; but he allowed me to summon to our councils a man who advertised himself as being a private detective. This man, or one of his men, came at our call, and heard what was wanted of him. Carriston reluctantly gave him one of Madeline’s photographs.[249] He also told him that only by watching and spying on Ralph Carriston’s every action could he hope to obtain the clew. I did not much like the course adopted, nor did I like the look of the man to whom the inquiry9 was intrusted; but at any rate something was being done.
A week passed without any news from our agent. Carriston, in truth, did not seem to expect any. I believe he only employed the man in deference10 to my wishes. He moved about the house in a disconsolate11 fashion. I had not told him of my interview with his cousin, but had cautioned him on the rare occasions upon which he went out of doors to avoid speaking to strangers, and my servants had strict instructions to prevent any one coming in and taking my guest by surprise.
For I had during those days opened a confidential12 inquiry on my own account. I wanted to learn something about this Mr. Ralph Carriston. So I asked a man who knew everybody to find out all about him.
He reported that Ralph Carriston was a man well known about London. He was married and had a house in Dorsetshire; but the greater part of his time was spent in town. Once he was supposed to be well-off; but now it was the general opinion that every acre he owned was mortgaged, and that he was much pressed for money. “But,” my informant said, “there is but one life between him and the reversion to large estates, and that life is a poor one. I believe even now there is talk about the man who stands in his way being mad. If so, Ralph Carriston will get the management of everything.”
After this news I felt it more than ever needful to[250] keep a watchful13 eye on my friend. So far as I knew there had been no recurrence14 of the trance, and I began to hope that proper treatment would effect a complete cure, when, to my great alarm and annoyance15, Carriston, while sitting with me, suddenly and without warning fell into the same strange state of body and mind as previously16 described. This time he was sitting in another part of the room. After watching him for a minute or two, and just as I was making up my mind to arouse him and scold him thoroughly17 for his folly18, he sprung to his feet, and shouting, “Let her go! Loose her, I say!” rushed violently across the room—so violently, that I had barely time to interpose and prevent him from coming into contact with the opposite wall.
Upon returning to his senses he told me, with great excitement, that he had again seen Madeline; moreover, this time he had seen a man with her—a man who had placed his hand upon her wrist and kept it there; and so, according to Carriston’s wild reasoning, became, on account of the contact, visible to him.
He told me he had watched them for some moments, until the man, tightening19 his grip on the girl’s arm, endeavored, he thought, to lead her or induce her to follow him somewhere. At this juncture20, unaware21 that he was gazing at a vision, he had rushed to her assistance in the frantic22 way I have described—then he awoke.
He also told me he had studied the man’s features and general appearance most carefully with a view to future recognition. All these ridiculous statements were made as he made the former ones, with the air of one relating simple, undeniable facts—one speaking[251] the plain, unvarnished truth, and expecting full credence23 to be given to his words.
It was too absurd! too sad! It was evident to me that the barrier between his hallucinations, dreams, visions, or what he chose to call them, and pure insanity24, was now a very slight and fragile one. But before I gave up his case as hopeless I determined26 to make another strong appeal to his common-sense. I told him of his cousin’s visit to me—of his intentions and proposition. I begged him to consider what consequences his extraordinary beliefs and extravagant27 actions must eventually entail28. He listened attentively29 and calmly.
“You see now,” he said, “how right I was in attributing all this to Ralph Carriston—how right I was to come to you, a doctor of standing30, who can vouch31 for my sanity25.”
“Vouch for your sanity! How can I when you sit here and talk such arrant32 nonsense, and expect me to believe it? When you jump from your chair and rush madly at some visionary foe33? Sane34 as you may be in all else, any evidence I could give in your favor must break down in cross-examination if an inkling of these things got about. Come, Carriston, be reasonable, and prove your sanity by setting about this search for Miss Rowan in a proper way.”
He made no reply, but walked up and down the room apparently35 in deep thought. My words seemed to have had no effect upon him. Presently he seated himself; and, as if to avoid returning to the argument, drew a book at hazard from my shelves and began to read. He opened the volume at random36, but after reading a few lines seemed struck by something that[252] met his eyes, and in a few minutes was deeply immersed in the contents of the book. I glanced at it to see what had so awakened37 his interest. By a curious fatality38 he had chosen a book the very worst for him in his present frame of mind—Gilchrist’s recently published life of William Blake, that masterly memoir39 of a man who was on certain points as mad as Carriston himself. I was about to remonstrate40, when he laid down the volume and turned to me.
“Varley, the painter,” he said, “was a firm believer in Blake’s visions.”
“Varley was a bigger fool than Blake,” I retorted. “Fancy his sitting down and watching his clever but mad friend draw spectral41 heads, and believing them to be genuine portraits of dead kings whose forms condescended42 to appear to Blake!”
A sudden thought seemed to strike Carriston. “Will you give me some paper and chalk?” he asked. Upon being furnished with these materials he seated himself at the table and began to draw. At least a dozen times he sketched44, with his usual rapidity, some object or another, and a dozen times, after a moment’s consideration, threw each sketch43 aside with an air of disappointment and began a fresh one. At last one of his attempts seemed to come up to his requirements. “I have it now, exactly!” he cried with joy—even triumph—in his voice. He spent some time in putting finishing touches to the successful sketch, then he handed me the paper.
“That is the man I saw just now with Madeline,” he said. “When I find him I shall find her.” He spoke45 with all sincerity46 and conviction. I looked at the paper with, I am bound to say, a great amount of curiosity.
No matter from what visionary source Carriston had drawn47 his inspiration, his sketch was vigorous and natural enough. I have already mentioned his wonderful power of drawing portraits from memory, so was willing to grant that he might have reproduced the outline of some face which had somewhere struck him. Yet why should it have been this one? His drawing represented the three quarter face of a man—an ordinary man—apparently between forty and fifty years of age. It was a coarse-featured, ill-favored face, with a ragged48 ruff of hair round the chin. It was not the face of a gentleman, nor even the face of a gentle-nurtured man; and the artist, by a few cunning strokes, had made it wear a crafty49 and sullen50 look. The sketch, as I write this, lies before me, so that I am not speaking from memory.
Now, there are some portraits of which, without having seen the original, we say, “What splendid likenesses these must be.” It was so with Carriston’s sketch. Looking at it you felt sure it was exactly like the man whom it was intended to represent. So that, with the certain amount of art knowledge which I am at least supposed to possess, it was hard for me, after examining the drawing and recognizing the true artist’s touch in every line, to bring myself to accept the fact that it was but the outcome of a diseased imagination. As, at this very moment, I glance at that drawing, I scarcely blame myself for the question that faintly frames itself in my innermost heart. “Could it be possible—could there be in certain organizations powers not yet known—not yet properly investigated?”
My thought, supposing such a thought was ever there—was not discouraged by Carriston, who, speaking as if his faith in the bodily existence of the man whose portrait lay in my hand was unassailable, said,
“I noticed that his general appearance was that of a countryman—an English peasant; so in the country I shall find my love. Moreover, it will be easy to identify the man, as the top joint51 is missing from the middle finger of his right hand. As it lay on Madeline’s arm I noticed that.”
I argued with him no more. I felt that words would be but wasted.
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1
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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4
behooved
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| v.适宜( behoove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forfeiting
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的现在分词 ) | |
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6
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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7
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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tardy
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| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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10
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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recurrence
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| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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16
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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18
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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credence
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| n.信用，祭器台，供桌，凭证 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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entail
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| vt.使承担，使成为必要，需要 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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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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vouch
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| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
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arrant
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| adj.极端的；最大的 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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38
fatality
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| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
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memoir
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| n.[pl.]回忆录，自传；记事录 | |
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40
remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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41
spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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42
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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43
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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44
sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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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
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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47
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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48
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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49
crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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50
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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51
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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