The road from Hurseton changed where the marshes began to a causeway and ran solid and high across the treacherous8 bog9 towards the coast. Here it took a sudden turn, and passed through several fishing villages on its way to Market-on-Sea. And thence between hedges it passed onward10 to London, a road once more. Some distance from the curve an arm of the causeway ran for a quarter of a mile to Cove11 Castle, which was built on a firm and elevated spot of ground, near a kind of estuary12 which communicated with the sea. The sea itself was only distant half a mile, and a fine view of it could be obtained from the castle. Why the building should be called by so high-sounding a name, it is hard to say. It was simply a large stone house of two story, with a kind of tower at one end. Formerly13, in the reign14 of Elizabeth, it had been a fort, and afterwards, falling into decay, had been used by smugglers for the storing of contraband15 goods. In the reign of George III., the then Lord Conniston being disgusted with life, and anxious to isolate16 himself from the gay world, in which he had glittered to the detriment17 of his purse and health, had bought the property and there had lived and died. At that time the family possessed18 several seats and a town house. But the Georgian Conniston preferred this unhealthy neighborhood, as least likely to attract his former friends. So no one visited him, and he lived and died a recluse19. Afterwards the castle was deserted20 again, the successors of this lordly hermit21 preferring to live in more healthy parts. But gradually the property had been sold bit by bit, until, when Dick, the present lord, inherited, nothing remained to him but Cove Castle and the few acres around. Also he possessed the family vault22, which was underneath23 the Church of St. Agnes at the village of Benstow, three miles away. It was strange that the members of the family should have decided24 to be buried in this lonely place, when they could have rested in some green churchyard in the Midlands. But, seeing that Cove Castle alone remained to their descendants, it was just as well that the former holders25 of the title had entertained this odd idea. The present Lord Conniston at least retained, out of the wreck26 of the property, the vault wherein the remains27 of his forebears were laid.
When Conniston arrived at the castle he was met at the door by a gigantic female of uncommon28 ugliness, who answered to the name of Selina Moon. She was large enough to have earned an income by exhibiting herself in a caravan29, being considerably30 over six feet, and sufficiently31 ugly to shame even the witches in Macbeth. Had Mrs. Moon lived in the Middle Ages, she would assuredly have been put to death for sorcery, as her looks seemed hardly human. She had the frame of a grenadier and the voice of a drill sergeant32. Her face was large and round and pallid33, from a long life in the midst of the marshes. A few grey hairs on her upper lip gave her a still more masculine look, and, indeed, the least observant would have taken her for a man in disguise. She wore a frilled cap, which surrounded her face like the rays of a sunflower, and wore a vivid red gown bound at the waist by a yellow scarf. Mrs. Moon loved bright colors, and apparently34, if one could judge from her black eyes and beaked35 nose, had something of the gipsy in her. Not so far as wandering was concerned, though, for she rarely left the castle. This was because her great size, coupled with her love of finery, provoked comment from adults and insults from children whenever she ventured abroad.
This Amazonian female, from her height of six feet five, looked down on Conniston with a submissive air. She was as timid as a rabbit, the most harmless of her sex, and report went, that the late Mr. Moon, who had been almost a dwarf36, had frequently beaten her in spite of her superior inches. However, the old man was dead, and for many a long day Mrs. Moon had lorded it over the one servant in the castle. But she still wore her submissive air, and when her master imperiously demanded a sight of the gentleman who was expecting him, led the way at once to an upper room.
"But I wouldn't take everyone," said Mrs. Moon in a thin, high voice like the midnight wind in a chimney. "He being wishful to keep hisself quiet. What have he done, my lord?"
"Nothing," said Conniston, promptly37. "He only came down here for a rest. Do you think he has robbed the bank?"
"There's worse things than robbing banks," remarked Mrs. Moon, shaking her frilled cap portentously38, "and the worse things is what he's done. And why shouldn't he tell me his name if he was a babe for innocence39?"
"Didn't he do so when he arrived?" asked Conniston, halting on the landing with an anxious look.
"No, my lord, bless your heart! he didn't," said the giantess; "and but that he had your letter, which was as plain as print——"
"And was print," interpolated Dick, remembering his caligraphy adapted to the brains of Mrs. Moon.
"I shouldn't have let him in. But your lordship said he was to have the best room, and the best room he has, to say nothing of your lordship's clothes, he having arrived in tatters like a tramp, which he isn't from the princely looks of him. No one knows as he is here, he having asked me to say nothing. But Victoria——"
"What about her?" asked Conniston, rather sharply, for Victoria was a small servant, preternaturally sharp and mighty40 curious.
"Then, don't answer her questions."
"I don't," said Mrs. Moon, plaintively42, "and but that she's so strong I'd smack43 her hard. But only Jerry could manage her, and, bless me! your dear lordship, he's earning his bread in London, though I haven't heard of him for months."
"He's not in the place I obtained for him," said Conniston, stopping at the door of the room indicated by the housekeeper44. "He's robbed the till and bolted."
Mrs. Moon was not all disturbed. "Just like his poor father, my second son," said she, shaking the frilled cap again. "He was a wonderful boy for money and never minded how he got it. Have they jailed Jerry?" she asked, with great simplicity45.
Conniston could hardly help smiling at the calm way in which she took the report of her grandson's wickedness. "No, his master turned him out and gave him another chance."
"Bless and preserve your dear lordship, Jerry won't take no chance, as I always said, being advised by the cards. It's the gallers that boy will come to, and may I not be here to see him dangling46 at the end of a rope, much as he may deserve it. Jerry's a bad 'un, for sure, and takes after my old man's side of the family, several having been choked by the lawr for thieving and murdering and otherwise taking their enjoyment47. Where is he now?"
"I don't know, Mrs. Moon. But if he comes here, don't you let him into the castle and don't you let him know that Mr.—Mr. Grant"—Dick gave Bernard a new name for the sake of concealment—"is here."
"Never you mind what he is. You hold your tongue and make Victoria hold hers."
"Only Jerry can manage her," said Mrs. Moon, firmly, "me not being strong enough for such a tearing cat. If your lordship would speak yourself——"
"I'll see to it," interrupted Conniston, quickly. "I'm stopping here for the night, Mrs. Moon. Can you give me and Mr.—er—Grant a good dinner?"
"I'll cook it myself, Victoria being fond of burning things and her pastery being lead for heaviness. The wine your lordship knows——"
"Is there any of that port left?"
"Plenty, save what Jerry drank, he being fond of his glass."
"What! a boy of thirteen, Mrs. Moon!" said Conniston, seriously. "If you had stifled50 Jerry in the mud years ago it would have been better for him and for you."
Mrs. Moon blew a gigantic sigh. "True enough, your lordship, seeing as he'll occupy a place in the Chamber51 of Horrors in the exhibition me and Moon saw in London. Ah, well, some of his grandfather's people were hanged and——"
Conniston waited to hear no more of this domestic Newgate's Calendar, but abruptly52 opened the door and entered the room.
It was a large, airy apartment, with two windows looking on to the shining expanse of the sea, and well furnished in an old-fashioned way. In a large grate a fire of logs was briskly burning, so that the atmosphere was less damp than in the other rooms of the castle. The furniture was all of black oak, and included a square table, a comfortable sofa which was drawn53 up close to the fire, and several arm-chairs. Also there was a sideboard and a bookcase well supplied with volumes of works long since out of print. The hangings were of faded brocade, and the carpet was patched and mended. Here and there was valuable china and a few silver ornaments54. The whole room looked comfortable and home-like, and rather quaint55 in its faded and mellow56 beauty.
"Where are you, Bernard?" asked Conniston, seeing the room was empty.
For answer a window curtain was drawn aside and Gore57 came out, holding the heavy steel poker58. "It's only you," he said, looking very pale. "I heard voices and concealed59 myself behind the curtain. I expected you, but didn't know but what someone else might come. That servant suspects me."
"Not Mrs. Moon," said Conniston, pitying the haggard looks of his friend.
"No, Victoria. She is as sharp as a needle and—"
"Don't distress60 yourself, old boy," said Dick, taking Gore's hand and leading him to the sofa upon which he had been apparently lying until startled by the sound of voices. "Mrs. Moon can be depended upon and I'll speak to Victoria myself. You are safe here."
"Are you sure, Dick?"
"Perfectly61 sure. And even if you were discovered I could manage to conceal48 you in the vaults62 below the castle."
"Yes! The old smugglers used them to store goods and as hiding-places. There is a passage and door communicating with the arm of the sea which runs near the castle, and you could easily escape to foreign parts by means of a boat. Cheer up, old boy," added Dick, clapping his friend on the back, "you're not dead yet."
The poor, hunted young fellow threw his arm schoolboy fashion over Conniston's shoulder. "What a good fellow you are, Dick!" he said. "I fancied you might believe me guilty."
"And Alice?" asked Bernard, under his breath.
"She believes you innocent, so does Aunt Berengaria and Durham. Yes! and Miss Randolph also. She's a ripping girl that. I wish she wasn't engaged to Beryl, the pig!"
"What does he say?" asked Gore, warming his hand and casting a look over his shoulder.
"He says nothing, because he thinks you are drown-dead, as Mr. Peggotty would say. And, by Jove! Bernard, I thought you really were dead. You have no idea what a relief it was when I got your letter. How did you escape?"
Bernard passed his hand through his hair and sighed wearily. The strain through which he had passed, and from which he still suffered, showed itself in his bloodless cheeks and his wild eyes. At every sound he started and shook. His nerves, and small wonder, were quite unstrung, and even while sitting safely beside his old school chum on the sofa near the fire, he kept a tight hold of him, like a child by its mother's knee. Seeing this, Conniston rose quickly. Bernard was on his feet in a moment, startled by the suddenness of the movement.
"What's the matter?" he demanded, looking anxiously around, and eyeing both door and window suspiciously.
"You are the matter," said Conniston, touching64 the bell. "I must get you some wine. You look so awfully65 ill, old chap. This will never do. I tell you, Bernard, you are all right. I'll stick to you through thick and thin."
"But if I was arrested?"
"You won't be arrested. Everyone thinks you are dead. You'll stay here until we sift66 this matter to the bottom, and then you can take your place again in the world as Sir Bernard Gore."
"Sir Bernard!"
"Of course. You inherit the title and the money also."
"Not the money, Dick?"
"Yes! Durham told me to tell you, as he couldn't come himself. He is now reading the will and Beryl will find himself left out in the cold. You get everything."
Bernard threw up his hands. "And I'm a hunted fugitive."
"Steady, old boy. Bite on the bullet. You're a dead man, and will remain one until we discover who killed your grandfather."
"And how can we——"
"Shut up, Bernard!" Conniston made an imperative67 sign as a knock came to the door. Gore at once turned his face to the fire and began to arrange the logs, while Lord Conniston spoke68 to a sharp, dark, wizen child who entered the room. She was no more than fifteen, but had such an old face and such a womanly appearance that she looked much older. Her eyes were as black as sloes and her thin lips tightly closed. A most unpleasant-looking creature with a waspish nature.
"Oh, Victoria," said Conniston, as this goblin dropped a curtsey, "I want you to bring up some port wine.—Mrs. Moon will give it to you—and some glasses also."
"Yes, m'lord!"
"Bring a plate of biscuits too."
"Yes, m'lord!"
"And, Victoria," said the young man, as she retreated, "there is no need for you to mention that I have visitors at the castle."
"No, m'lord," said Victoria, and, with a glance full of suspicion at Bernard's back, she withdrew as noiselessly as she entered, and with a final curtsey, such as might have been made by a wooden doll. Indeed, Victoria—a most inappropriate name—might well have been cut out of wood, so stiff and angular and hard did she look. Conniston did not wonder that placid69 Mrs. Moon could not control this embryo70 virago71. A combat between them would be like that between an elephant and a mosquito, with the betting on the insect.
"That's a mistake, Dick," said Bernard, when the door closed.
"What is?" asked Conniston, staring.
"Telling that girl to hold her tongue. She has no reason to suspect me, and quite as likely as not thought me merely your guest. Now she will fancy all sorts of things."
"I hope not," said Conniston, uneasily, "but she's such a little devil that I thought it best to give her one for herself. And if she chatters72 she will lose her situation. I am so afraid lest she should be in communication with Jerry."
"Jerry?"
"Judas. The grandson of Mrs. Moon who robbed [pg 125]Taberley. He and Victoria were as thick as thieves, and are about equal in wickedness. If the girl suspected anything she might ask Judas to help her to learn more of the truth than we want known. Both would sell their nearest and dearest for a pound. But don't bother, Bernard," said the easy-going Dick, again crossing to the sofa, "everything is right."
"I hope so, I hope so," muttered Gore. "If I am arrested I cannot make any defence."
"We'll talk of that later. Here comes Mrs. Moon with the wine, and so speedily that I suspect she must have out a bottle for her private drinking. I say, Mrs. Moon," said Conniston, as the giantess entered with a silver tray and the wine, "don't let Victoria leave the castle on any account."
"I should think not," said Mrs. Moon, setting down the tray. "She works little enough as it is without trapesing about on holidays. I'd keep her under lock and key on bread and water if I had my way, and if she wasn't too strong for me, the besom that she is!—begging your dear lordship's pardon. Anything else, my lord?"
"No. You can go."
"And glad I am to go," said Mrs. Moon, withdrawing with a ponderous73 step, "being engaged in playing kings."
"Kings," said Conniston, when she vanished.
Bernard, in spite of his sadness, laughed and explained. "It's a game of patience," he said. "I asked Mrs. Moon for a pack of cards to pass the time, and was playing the game myself. She was curious; so, to keep her in a good temper, I taught it to her. Ever since she has been playing it unsuccessfully."
"Oh!" Conniston was not interested in his housekeeper's games. He opened the bottle of port and carefully poured out a full glass, which he passed to Bernard. "Drink that up, you sinner."
Gore sipped74 a little wine but finally drank the whole glass. Conniston made him take another in spite of his protestations, and then the color came back to his sunken cheeks. The poor fellow was thin with anxiety and want of sleep. When Conniston saw he was better he made him light a pipe and then sat down to hear an account of his escape. Bernard was grateful for these attentions and began to look less cowed.
"You're a good friend, Dick," he said, smoking luxuriously75. "This is the first moment of peace I have known since that awful moment."
"I threw myself into the river and swam across."
"In the fog?"
"Yes. I was guided by the piers77 of the Chelsea Bridge. On the opposite side I took off my coat and hat and left them lying on the bank, so that it might be thought I was drowned."
"Which is exactly what people do think," said Dick, complacently78.
"Thank Heaven for that. Well, then I went into a public-house I found open—it was not yet midnight—and made up a story about having been robbed and thrown into the river."
"That was dangerous. The public-house people might have advised you to see the police."
"I don't think the landlord had any love for the police," said Gore, dryly. "He looked like an old convict himself and displayed a fellow-sympathy. I don't know if he believed my story. However, for a sovereign he gave me a coat and hat, and asked no questions. I walked across Waterloo Bridge in the fog and escaped observation. But for the fog I expect my military breeches and leggings would have betrayed me and provoked questions. But I managed to escape."
"I didn't sleep at all. I walked the whole night, and by dawn I was out of London. I lost myself several times in the fog and twice had a row with a tramp or two. Then I took a train at a wayside station to Gravesend, and crossed the river to Tilbury."
"Didn't anyone ask questions?"
Bernard shook his head. "The new Yeomanry uniform wasn't known in those parts. I expect the gaiters made people think I was a farmer. I took the train to Pitsea, and then came on here under cover of night. It was ten o'clock by the time I got here."
"What did you do in the meantime?"
"I loafed about the taproom of a pub, and made out I was a horse-dealer buying horses for the war. No one suspected me, and I managed to sustain my part perfectly."
"Did Mrs. Moon admit you at once?"
"No. She was in bed. But when she came to the door she seemed disinclined to admit me. I produced your letter, and after she read it, which took about a quarter of an hour, she let me in. Then next morning I wrote to you."
"What made you think of this place, Bernard?"
"I could think of nowhere to hide," said Gore, leaning back with a weary sigh. "And after all," he added, with a glance round, "this is a very good caché."
Conniston nodded. "You are quite safe here. I will show you the way to the vaults, and should there be any chance of your being discovered you can hide there."
"Does Victoria know about the vaults?"
"I can't say. Probably that Judas brat79 has told her. He was brought up here, and knows every nook and cranny of the castle. And now, Bernard, we must have a good dinner, and then you can tell me whom you suspect of committing the crime."
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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exhaled
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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slough
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| v.蜕皮，脱落，抛弃 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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estuary
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| n.河口，江口 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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contraband
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| n.违禁品，走私品 | |
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isolate
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| vt.使孤立，隔离 | |
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detriment
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| n.损害；损害物，造成损害的根源 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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underneath
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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holders
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| 支持物( holder的名词复数 )； 持有者； （支票等）持有人； 支托（或握持）…之物 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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remains
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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beaked
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| adj.有喙的，鸟嘴状的 | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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promptly
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portentously
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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allays
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| v.减轻，缓和( allay的第三人称单数 ) | |
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plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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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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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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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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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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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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57
gore
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| n.凝血，血污；v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破；缝以补裆；顶 | |
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58
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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59
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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60
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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61
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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62
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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63
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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64
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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65
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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66
sift
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| v.筛撒，纷落，详察 | |
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67
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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68
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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69
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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70
embryo
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| n.胚胎，萌芽的事物 | |
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71
virago
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| n.悍妇 | |
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72
chatters
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的第三人称单数 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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73
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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74
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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76
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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77
piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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78
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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brat
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| n.孩子；顽童 | |
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