Befalls; what was no more shall be.
How slight the links are in the chain
—T.B. Aldrich.
Oscar's eye, roaming the landscape as he left Shirley Claiborne and started for the bungalow2, swept the upland Claiborne acres and rested upon a moving shadow. He drew rein3 under a clump4 of wild cherry-trees at the roadside and waited. Several hundred yards away lay the Claiborne sheepfold, with a broad pasture rising beyond. A shadow is not a thing to be ignored by a man trained in the niceties of scouting5. Oscar, satisfying himself that substance lay behind the shadow, dismounted and tied his horse. Then he bent6 low over the stone wall and watched.
"It is the big fellow—yes? He is a stealer of sheep, as I might have known."
Zmai was only a dim figure against the dark meadow, which he was slowly crossing from the side farthest from the Claiborne house. He stopped several times as though uncertain of his whereabouts, and then clambered over a stone wall that formed one side of the sheepfold, passed it and strode on toward Oscar and the road.
"It is mischief7 that brings him from the hills—yes?" Oscar reflected, glancing up and down the highway. Faintly—very softly through the night he heard the orchestra at the hotel, playing for the dance. The little soldier unbuttoned his coat, drew the revolver from his belt, and thrust it into his coat pocket. Zmai was drawing nearer, advancing rapidly, now that he had gained his bearings. At the wall Oscar rose suddenly and greeted him in mockingly-courteous tones:
"Good evening, my friend; it's a fine evening for a walk."
"Let me pass," he said in his difficult German.
"It is a long wall; there should be no difficulty in passing. This country is much freer than Servia—yes?" and Oscar's tone was pleasantly conversational9.
"A moment only, comrade. You seem to be in a hurry; it must be a business that brings you from the mountains—yes?"
"I have no time for you," snarled11 the Servian. "Be gone!" and he shook himself impatiently and again put his hand on the wall.
"One should not be in too much haste, comrade;" and Oscar thrust Zmai back with his finger-tips.
The man yielded and ran a few steps out of the clump of trees and sought to escape there. It was clear to Oscar that Zmai was not anxious to penetrate12 closer to the Claiborne house, whose garden extended quite near. He met Zmai promptly13 and again thrust him back.
"It is a message—yes?" asked Oscar.
"It was you that tried the knife on my body. It is much quieter than shooting. You have the knife—yes?"
The little soldier whipped out his revolver.
"In which pocket is the business carried? A letter undoubtedly16. They do not trust swine to carry words—Ah!"
Oscar dropped below the wall as Zmai struck at him; when he looked up a moment later the Servian was running back over the meadow toward the sheepfold. Oscar, angry at the ease with which the Servian had evaded17 him, leaped the wall and set off after the big fellow. He was quite sure that the man bore a written message, and equally sure that it must be of importance to his employer. He clutched his revolver tight, brought up his elbows for greater ease in running, and sped after Zmai, now a blur14 on the starlighted sheep pasture.
The slope was gradual and a pretty feature of the landscape by day; but it afforded a toilsome path for runners. Zmai already realized that he had blundered in not forcing the wall; he was running uphill, with a group of sheds, another wall, and a still steeper and rougher field beyond. His bulk told against him; and behind him he heard the quick thump18 of Oscar's feet on the turf. The starlight grew dimmer through tracts19 of white scud20; the surface of the pasture was rougher to the feet than it appeared to the eye. A hound in the Claiborne stable-yard bayed suddenly and the sound echoed from the surrounding houses and drifted off toward the sheepfold. Then a noble music rose from the kennels21.
Zmai approached the sheep-sheds rapidly, with still a hundred yards to traverse beyond them before he should reach the pasture wall. His rage at thus being driven by a small man for whom he had great contempt did not help his wind or stimulate23 the flight of his heavy legs, and he saw now that he would lessen24 the narrowing margin25 between himself and his pursuer if he swerved26 to the right to clear the sheds. He suddenly slackened his pace, and with a vicious tug27 settled his wool hat more firmly upon his small skull28. He went now at a dog trot29 and Oscar was closing upon him rapidly; then, quite near the sheds, Zmai wheeled about and charged his pursuer headlong. At the moment he turned, Oscar's revolver bit keenly into the night. Captain Claiborne, looking toward the slope, saw the flash before the hounds at the stables answered the report.
"Stop; I want the letter!" shouted Oscar in German. The man turned slowly, as though dazed, and, with a hand still clutching his head, half-stumbled and half-ran toward the sheds, with Oscar at his heels.
Claiborne called to the negro stable-men to quiet the dogs, snatched a lantern, and ran away through the pergola to the end of the garden and thence into the pasture beyond. Meanwhile Oscar, thinking Zmai badly hurt, did not fire again, but flung himself upon the fellow's broad shoulders and down they crashed against the door of the nearest pen. Zmai swerved and shook himself free while he fiercely cursed his foe31. Oscar's hands slipped on the fellow's hot blood that ran from a long crease32 in the side of his head.
As they fell the pen door snapped free, and out into the starry33 pasture thronged34 the frightened sheep.
"The letter—give me the letter!" commanded Oscar, his face close to the Servian's. He did not know how badly the man was injured, but he was anxious to complete his business and be off. Still the sheep came huddling35 through the broken door, across the prostrate36 men, and scampered37 away into the open. Captain Claiborne, running toward the fold with his lantern and not looking for obstacles, stumbled over their bewildered advance guard and plunged38 headlong into the gray fleeces. Meanwhile into the pockets of his prostrate foe went Oscar's hands with no result. Then he remembered the man's gesture in pulling the hat close upon his ears, and off came the hat and with it a blood-stained envelope. The last sheep in the pen trooped out and galloped39 toward its comrades.
Oscar, making off with the letter, plunged into the rear guard of the sheep, fell, stumbled to his feet, and confronted Captain Claiborne as that gentleman, in soiled evening dress, fumbled40 for his lantern and swore in language unbecoming an officer and a gentleman.
"Damn the sheep!" roared Claiborne.
"It is sheep—yes?" and Oscar started to bolt.
"Halt!"
The authority of the tone rang familiarly in Oscar's ears. He had, after considerable tribulation41, learned to stop short when an officer spoke42 to him, and the gentleman of the sheepfold stood straight in the starlight and spoke like an officer.
"What in the devil are you doing here, and who fired that shot?"
"It was an accident, sir."
"Why are you running and why did you fire? Understand you are a trespasser44 here, and I am going to turn you over to the constable45."
"There was a sheep-stealer—yes? He is yonder by the pens—and we had some little fighting; but he is not dead—no?"
At that moment Claiborne's eyes caught sight of a burly figure rising and threshing about by the broken pen door.
"That is the sheep-stealer," said Oscar. "We shall catch him—yes?"
Zmai peered toward them uncertainly for a moment; then turned abruptly46 and ran toward the road. Oscar started to cut off his retreat, but Claiborne caught the sergeant47 by the shoulder and flung him back.
What's that you have there? Give it to me—quick!"
"It's a piece of wool—"
But Claiborne snatched the paper from Oscar's hand, and commanded the man to march ahead of him to the house. So over the meadow and through the pergola they went, across the veranda and into the library. The power of army discipline was upon Oscar; if Claiborne had not been an officer he would have run for it in the garden. As it was, he was taxing his wits to find some way out of his predicament. He had not the slightest idea as to what the paper might be. He had risked his life to secure it, and now the crumpled49, blood-stained paper had been taken away from him by a person whom it could not interest in any way whatever.
"You are the man who brought a horse back to our stable an hour ago."
"Yes, sir."
"You have been a soldier."
"Where do you live?"
"I work as teamster in the coal mines—yes?—they are by Lamar, sir."
"Let me see your hands," he commanded; and Oscar extended his palms.
"You are lying; you do not work in the coal mines. Your clothes are not those of a miner; and a discharged soldier doesn't go to digging coal. Stand where you are, and it will be the worse for you if you try to bolt."
Claiborne turned to the table with the envelope. It was not sealed, and he took out the plain sheet of notepaper on which was written:
CABLEGRAM
WlNKELRIED, VIENNA.
Not later than Friday.
CHAUVENET.
Claiborne read and re-read these eight words; then he spoke bluntly to
Oscar.
"Where did you get this?"
"From the hat of the sheep-stealer up yonder."
"Who is he and where did he get it?"
"I don't know, sir. He was of Servia, and they are an ugly race—yes?"
"What were you going to do with the paper?"
Oscar grinned.
"If I could read it—yes; I might know; but if Austria is in the paper, then it is mischief; and maybe it would be murder; who knows?"
"Dick!" called Shirley from the hall, and she appeared in the doorway54, drawing on her gloves; but paused at seeing Oscar.
"Shirley, I caught this man in the sheepfold. Did you ever see him before?"
"I think not, Dick."
"It was he that brought your horse home."
"To be sure it is! I hadn't recognized him. Thank you very much;" and she smiled at Oscar.
Dick frowned fiercely and referred again to the paper.
"Where is Monsieur Chauvenet—have you any idea?"
"If he isn't at the hotel or in Washington, I'm sure I don't know. If we are going to the dance—"
"Plague the dance! I heard a shot in the sheep pasture a bit ago and ran out to find this fellow in a row with another man, who got away."
"I heard the shot and the dogs from my window. You seem to have been in a fuss, too, from the looks of your clothes;" and Shirley sat down and smoothed her gloves with provoking coolness.
Dick sent Oscar to the far end of the library with a gesture, and held up the message for Shirley to read.
"Don't touch it!" he exclaimed; and when she nodded her head in sign that she had read it, he said, speaking earnestly and rapidly:
"I suppose I have no right to hold this message; I must send the man to the hotel telegraph office with it. But where is Chauvenet? What is his business in the valley? And what is the link between Vienna and these hills?"
"Don't you know what you are doing here?" she asked, and he flushed.
"I have my orders and I'm going to find him, if it takes ten years."
Shirley nodded and clasped her fingers together. Her elbows resting on the high arms of her chair caused her cloak to flow sweepingly57 away from her shoulders. At the end of the room, with his back to the portieres, stood Oscar, immovable. Claiborne reexamined the message, and extended it again to Shirley.
"There's no doubt of that being Chauvenet's writing, is there?"
"I think not, Dick. I have had notes from him now and then in that hand.
He has taken pains to write this with unusual distinctness."
The color brightened in her cheeks suddenly as she looked toward Oscar. The curtains behind him swayed, but so did the curtain back of her. A May-time languor58 had crept into the heart of April, and all the windows were open. The blurred59 murmurs60 of insects stole into the house. Oscar, half-forgotten by his captor, heard a sound in the window behind him and a hand touched him through the curtain.
Claiborne crumpled the paper impatiently.
"Shirley, you are against me! I believe you have seen Armitage here, and I want you to tell me what you know of him. It is not like you to shield a scamp of an adventurer—an unknown, questionable61 character. He has followed you to this valley and will involve you in his affairs without the slightest compunction, if he can. It's most infamous62, outrageous63, and when I find him I'm going to thrash him within an inch of his life before I turn him over to Marhof!"
Shirley laughed for the first time in their interview, and rose and placed her hands on her brother's shoulders.
"Do it, Dick! He's undoubtedly a wicked, a terribly wicked and dangerous character."
"I tell you I'll find him," he said tensely, putting up his hands to hers, where they rested on his shoulders. She laughed and kissed him, and when her hands fell to her side the message was in her gloved fingers.
"I'll help you, Dick," she said, buttoning her glove.
"That's like you, Shirley."
"If you want to find Mr. Armitage—"
"Of course I want to find him—" His voice rose to a roar.
"Then turn around; Mr. Armitage is just behind you!"
"Yes; I needed my man for other business," said Armitage, folding his arms, "and as you were very much occupied I made free with the rear veranda and changed places with him."
Claiborne walked slowly toward him, the anger glowing in his face.
"You are worse than I thought—eavesdropper, housebreaker!"
"Yes; I am both those things, Captain Claiborne. But I am also in a great hurry. What do you want with me?"
"We will grant that," said Armitage quietly. "Where is your warrant for my arrest?"
"That will be forthcoming fast enough! I want you to understand that I have a personal grievance65 against you."
"It must wait until day after to-morrow, Captain Claiborne. I will come to you here or wherever you say on the day after to-morrow."
Armitage spoke with a deliberate sharp decision that was not the tone of a rogue or a fugitive66. As he spoke he advanced until he faced Claiborne in the center of the room. Shirley still stood by the window, holding the soiled paper in her hand. She had witnessed the change of men at the end of the room; it had touched her humor; it had been a joke on her brother; but she felt that the night had brought a crisis: she could not continue to shield a man of whom she knew nothing save that he was the object of a curious enmity. Her idle prayer that her own land's commonplace sordidness67 might be obscured by the glamour68 of Old World romance came back to her; she had been in touch with an adventure that was certainly proving fruitful of diversion. The coup69 de théâtre by which Armitage had taken the place of his servant had amused her for a moment; but she was vexed70 and angry now that he had dared come again to the house.
"You are under arrest, Mr. Armitage; I must detain you here," said
Claiborne.
"In America—in free Virginia—without legal process?" asked Armitage, laughing.
"You are a housebreaker, that is enough. Shirley, please go!"
"You were not detached from the army to find a housebreaker. But I will make your work easy for you—day after to-morrow I will present myself to you wherever you say. But now—that cable message which my man found in your sheep pasture is of importance. I must trouble you to read it to me."
"No!" shouted Claiborne.
Armitage drew a step nearer.
"You must take my word for it that matters of importance, of far-reaching consequence, hang upon that message. I must know what it is."
"You certainly have magnificent cheek! I am going to take that paper to
Baron von Marhof at once."
"Do so!—but I must know first! Baron von Marhof and I are on the same side in this business, but he doesn't understand it, and it is clear you don't. Give me the message!"
He spoke commandingly, his voice thrilling with earnestness, and jerked out his last words with angry impatience71. At the same moment he and Claiborne stepped toward each other, with their hands clenched72 at their sides.
"I don't like your tone, Mr. Armitage!"
"I don't like to use that tone, Captain Claiborne."
Shirley walked quickly to the table and put down the message. Then, going to the door, she paused as though by an afterthought, and repeated quite slowly the words:
"Winkelried—Vienna—not later than Friday—Chauvenet."
"Shirley!" roared Claiborne.
John Armitage bowed to the already vacant doorway; then bounded into the hall out upon the veranda and ran through the garden to the side gate, where Oscar waited.
Half an hour later Captain Claiborne, after an interview with Baron von
Marhof, turned his horse toward the hills.
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收听单词发音
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1
binds
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| v.约束( bind的第三人称单数 )；装订；捆绑；（用长布条）缠绕 | |
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bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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3
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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scouting
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| 守候活动，童子军的活动 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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7
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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8
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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9
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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10
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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11
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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12
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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13
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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14
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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15
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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17
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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18
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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19
tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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20
scud
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| n.疾行；v.疾行 | |
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21
kennels
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| n.主人外出时的小动物寄养处，养狗场；狗窝( kennel的名词复数 )；养狗场 | |
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22
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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23
stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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24
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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25
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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26
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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28
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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29
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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30
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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31
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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32
crease
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| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
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33
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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34
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
huddling
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| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
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36
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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37
scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
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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39
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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40
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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41
tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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42
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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43
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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44
trespasser
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| n.侵犯者；违反者 | |
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45
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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46
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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47
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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48
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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49
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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50
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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51
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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52
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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53
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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54
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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55
irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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56
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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57
sweepingly
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| adv.扫荡地 | |
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58
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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60
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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61
questionable
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| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
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62
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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63
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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64
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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65
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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66
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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67
sordidness
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| n.肮脏；污秽；卑鄙；可耻 | |
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68
glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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69
coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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71
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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