Then Lessingham, who was sitting at my side, said to me,
‘Mr Champnell, you have that report.’
‘I have.’
‘Will you let me see it once more?’
I gave it to him. He read it once, twice,—and I fancy yet again. I purposely avoided looking at him as he did so. Yet all the while I was conscious of his pallid2 cheeks, the twitched3 muscles of his mouth, the feverish4 glitter of his eyes,—this Leader of Men, whose predominate characteristic in the House of Commons was immobility, was rapidly approximating to the condition of a hysterical5 woman. The mental strain which he had been recently undergoing was proving too much for his physical strength. This disappearance6 of the woman he loved bade fair to be the final straw. I felt convinced that unless something was done quickly to relieve the strain upon his mind he was nearer to a state of complete mental and moral collapse7 than he himself imagined. Had he been under my orders I should have commanded him to at once return home, and not to think; but conscious that, as things were, such a direction would be simply futile8, I decided9 to do something else instead. Feeling that suspense10 was for him the worst possible form of suffering I resolved to explain, so far as I was able, precisely11 what it was I feared, and how I proposed to prevent it.
Presently there came the question for which I had been waiting, in a harsh, broken voice which no one who had heard him speak on a public platform, or in the House of Commons, would have recognised as his.
‘Mr Champnell,—who do you think this person is of whom the report from Vauxhall Station speaks as being all in rags and tatters?’
He knew perfectly12 well,—but I understood the mental attitude which induced him to prefer that the information should seem to come from me.
‘I hope that it will prove to be Miss Lindon.’
‘Yes, hope,—because if it is I think it possible, nay14 probable, that within a few hours you will have her again enfolded in your arms.’
‘Pray God that it may be so! pray God!—pray the good God!’
I did not dare to look round for, from the tremor15 which was in his tone, I was persuaded that in the speaker’s eyes were tears. Atherton continued silent. He was leaning half out of the cab, staring straight ahead, as if he saw in front a young girl’s face, from which he could not remove his glance, and which beckoned16 him on.
‘This mention of the shrieks18 on the railway, and of the wailing19 noise in the cab,—what must this wretch20 have done to her? How my darling must have suffered!’
That was a theme on which I myself scarcely ventured to allow my thoughts to rest. The notion of a gently-nurtured girl being at the mercy of that fiend incarnate21, possessed—as I believed that so-called Arab to be possessed—of all the paraphernalia22 of horror and of dread23, was one which caused me tangible24 shrinkings of the body. Whence had come those shrieks and yells, of which the writer of the report spoke, which had caused the Arab’s fellow-passengers to think that murder was being done? What unimaginable agony had caused them? what speechless torture? And the ‘wailing noise,’ which had induced the prosaic25, indurated London cabman to get twice off his box to see what was the matter, what anguish26 had been provocative27 of that? The helpless girl who had already endured so much, endured, perhaps, that to which death would have been preferred!—shut up in that rattling28, jolting29 box on wheels, alone with that diabolical30 Asiatic, with the enormous bundle, which was but the lurking31 place of nameless terrors,—what might she not, while being borne through the heart of civilised London, have been made to suffer? What had she not been made to suffer to have kept up that continued ‘wailing noise’?
It was not a theme on which it was wise to permit one’s thoughts to linger,—and particularly was it clear that it was one from which Lessingham’s thoughts should have been kept as far as possible away.
‘Come, Mr Lessingham, neither you nor I will do himself any good by permitting his reflections to flow in a morbid32 channel. Let us talk of something else. By the way, weren’t you due to speak in the House to-night?’
‘Due!—Yes, I was due,—but what does it matter?’
‘But have you acquainted no one with the cause of your non-attendance?’
‘Acquaint!—whom should I acquaint?’
‘My good sir! Listen to me, Mr Lessingham. Let me entreat33 you very earnestly, to follow my advice. Call another cab,—or take this! and go at once to the House. It is not too late. Play the man, deliver the speech you have undertaken to deliver, perform your political duties. By coming with me you will be a hindrance34 rather than a help, and you may do your reputation an injury from which it never may recover. Do as I counsel you, and I will undertake to do my very utmost to let you have good news by the time your speech is finished.’
He turned on me with a bitterness for which I was unprepared.
‘If I were to go down to the House, and try to speak in the state in which I am now, they would laugh at me, I should be ruined.’
‘Do you not run an equally great risk of being ruined by staying away?’
He gripped me by the arm.
‘Mr Champnell, do you know that I am on the verge36 of madness? Do you know that as I am sitting here by your side I am living in a dual37 world? I am going on and on to catch that—that fiend, and I am back again in that Egyptian den38, upon that couch of rugs, with the Woman of the Songs beside me, and Marjorie is being torn and tortured, and burnt before my eyes! God help me! Her shrieks are ringing in my ears!’
He did not speak loudly, but his voice was none the less impressive on that account. I endeavoured my hardest to be stern.
‘I confess that you disappoint me, Mr Lessingham. I have always understood that you were a man of unusual strength; you appear instead, to be a man of extraordinary weakness; with an imagination so ill-governed that its ebullitions remind me of nothing so much as feminine hysterics. Your wild language is not warranted by circumstances. I repeat that I think it quite possible that by to-morrow morning she will be returned to you.’
‘Yes,—but how? as the Marjorie I have known, as I saw her last,—or how?’
That was the question which I had already asked myself, in what condition would she be when we had succeeded in snatching her from her captor’s grip? It was a question to which I had refused to supply an answer. To him I lied by implication.
‘Let us hope that, with the exception of being a trifle scared, she will be as sound and hale and hearty39 as even in her life.’
‘Do you yourself believe that she’ll be like that,—untouched, unchanged, unstained?’
Then I lied right out,—it seemed to me necessary to calm his growing excitement.
‘I do.’
‘You don’t!’
‘Mr Lessingham!’
‘Do you think that I can’t see your face and read in it the same thoughts which trouble me? As a man of honour do you care to deny that when Marjorie Lindon is restored to me,—if she ever is!—you fear she will be but the mere40 soiled husk of the Marjorie whom I knew and loved?’
‘Even supposing that there may be a modicum41 of truth in what you say,—which I am far from being disposed to admit—what good purpose do you propose to serve by talking in such a strain?’
‘None,—no good purpose,—unless it be the desire of looking the truth in the face. For, Mr Champnell, you must not seek to play with me the hypocrite, nor try to hide things from me as if I were a child. If my life is ruined—it is ruined,—let me know it, and look the knowledge in the face. That, to me, is to play the man.’
I was silent.
The wild tale he had told me of that Cairene inferno42, oddly enough—yet why oddly, for the world is all coincidence!—had thrown a flood of light on certain events which had happened some three years previously43 and which ever since had remained shrouded44 in mystery. The conduct of the business afterwards came into my hands,—and briefly46, what had occurred was this:
Three persons,—two sisters and their brother, who was younger than themselves, members of a decent English family, were going on a trip round the world. They were young, adventurous47, and—not to put too fine a point on it—foolhardy. The evening after their arrival in Cairo, by way of what is called ‘a lark,’ in spite of the protestations of people who were better informed than themselves, they insisted on going, alone, for a ramble48 through the native quarter.
They went,—but they never returned. Or, rather the two girls never returned. After an interval49 the young man was found again,—what was left of him. A fuss was made when there were no signs of their re-appearance, but as there were no relations, nor even friends of theirs, but only casual acquaintances on board the ship by which they had travelled, perhaps not so great a fuss as might have been was made. Anyhow, nothing was discovered. Their widowed mother, alone in England, wondering how it was that beyond the receipt of a brief wire, acquainting her with their arrival at Cairo, she had heard nothing further of their wanderings, placed herself in communication with the diplomatic people over there,—to learn that, to all appearances, her three children had vanished from off the face of the earth.
Then a fuss was made,—with a vengeance50. So far as one can judge the whole town and neighbourhood was turned pretty well upside down. But nothing came of it,—so far as any results were concerned, the authorities might just as well have left the mystery of their vanishment alone. It continued where it was in spite of them.
However, some three months afterwards a youth was brought to the British Embassy by a party of friendly Arabs who asserted that they had found him naked and nearly dying in some remote spot in the Wady Haifa desert. It was the brother of the two lost girls. He was as nearly dying as he very well could be without being actually dead when they brought him to the Embassy,—and in a state of indescribable mutilation. He seemed to rally for a time under careful treatment, but he never again uttered a coherent word. It was only from his delirious51 ravings that any idea was formed of what had really occurred.
Shorthand notes were taken of some of the utterances54 of his delirium55. Afterwards they were submitted to me. I remembered the substance of them quite well, and when Mr Lessingham began to tell me of his own hideous56 experiences they came back to me more clearly still. Had I laid those notes before him I have little doubt but that he would have immediately perceived that seventeen years after the adventure which had left such an indelible scar upon his own life, this youth—he was little more than a boy—had seen the things which he had seen, and suffered the nameless agonies and degradations57 which he had suffered. The young man was perpetually raving52 about some indescribable den of horror which was own brother to Lessingham’s temple and about some female monster, whom he regarded with such fear and horror that every allusion58 he made to her was followed by a convulsive paroxysm which taxed all the ingenuity59 of his medical attendants to bring him out of. He frequently called upon his sisters by name, speaking of them in a manner which inevitably60 suggested that he had been an unwilling61 and helpless witness of hideous tortures which they had undergone; and then he would rise in bed, screaming, ‘They’re burning them! they’re burning them! Devils! devils!’ And at those times it required all the strength of those who were in attendance to restrain his maddened frenzy62.
The youth died in one of these fits of great preternatural excitement, without, as I have previously written, having given utterance53 to one single coherent word, and by some of those who were best able to judge it was held to have been a mercy that he did die without having been restored to consciousness. And, presently, tales began to be whispered, about some idolatrous sect63, which was stated to have its headquarters somewhere in the interior of the country—some located it in this neighbourhood, and some in that—which was stated to still practise, and to always have practised, in unbroken historical continuity, the debased, unclean, mystic, and bloody64 rites65, of a form of idolatry which had had its birth in a period of the world’s story which was so remote, that to all intents and purposes it might be described as pre-historic.
While the ferment66 was still at its height, a man came to the British Embassy who said that he was a member of a tribe which had its habitat on the banks of the White Nile. He asserted that he was in association with this very idolatrous sect,—though he denied that he was one of the actual sectaries. He did admit, however, that he had assisted more than once at their orgies, and declared that it was their constant practice to offer young women as sacrifices—preferably white Christian67 women, with a special preference, if they could get them, to young English women. He vowed68 that he himself had seen with his own eyes, English girls burnt alive. The description which he gave of what preceded and followed these foul69 murders appalled70 those who listened. He finally wound up by offering, on payment of a stipulated71 sum of money, to guide a troop of soldiers to this den of demons72, so that they should arrive there at a moment when it was filled with worshippers, who were preparing to participate in an orgie which was to take place during the next few days.
His offer was conditionally73 accepted. He was confined in an apartment with one man on guard inside and another on guard outside the room. That night the sentinel without was startled by hearing a great noise and frightful74 screams issuing from the chamber75 in which the native was interned76. He summoned assistance. The door was opened. The soldier on guard within was stark77, staring mad,—he died within a few months, a gibbering maniac78 to the end. The native was dead. The window, which was a very small one, was securely fastened inside and strongly barred without. There was nothing to show by what means entry had been gained. Yet it was the general opinion of those who saw the corpse79 that the man had been destroyed by some wild beast. A photograph was taken of the body after death, a copy of which is still in my possession. In it are distinctly shown lacerations about the neck and the lower portion of the abdomen80, as if they had been produced by the claws of some huge and ferocious81 animal. The skull82 is splintered in half-a-dozen places, and the face is torn to rags.
That was more than three years ago. The whole business has remained as great a mystery as ever. But my attention has once or twice been caught by trifling83 incidents, which have caused me to more than suspect that the wild tale told by that murdered native had in it at least the elements of truth; and which have even led me to wonder if the trade in kidnapping was not being carried on to this very hour, and if women of my own flesh and blood were not still being offered up on that infernal altar. And now, here was Paul Lessingham, a man of world-wide reputation, of great intellect, of undoubted honour, who had come to me with a wholly unconscious verification of all my worst suspicions!
That the creature spoken of as an Arab,—and who was probably no more an Arab than I was, and whose name was certainly not Mohamed el Kheir!—was an emissary from that den of demons, I had no doubt. What was the exact purport84 of the creature’s presence in England was another question. Possibly part of the intention was the destruction of Paul Lessingham, body, soul and spirit; possibly another part was the procuration of fresh victims for that long-drawn-out holocaust85. That this latter object explained the disappearance of Miss Lindon I felt persuaded. That she was designed by the personification of evil who was her captor, to suffer all the horrors at which the stories pointed86, and then to be burned alive, amidst the triumphant87 yells of the attendant demons, I was certain. That the wretch, aware that the pursuit was in full cry, was tearing, twisting, doubling, and would stick at nothing which would facilitate the smuggling88 of the victim out of England, was clear.
My interest in the quest was already far other than a merely professional one. The blood in my veins89 tingled90 at the thought of such a woman as Miss Lindon being in the power of such a monster. I may assuredly claim that throughout the whole business I was urged forward by no thought of fee or of reward. To have had a share in rescuing that unfortunate girl, and in the destruction of her noxious91 persecutor92, would have been reward enough for me.
One is not always, even in strictly93 professional matters, influenced by strictly professional instincts.
‘This is Commercial Road, sir,—what part of it do you want?’
‘Drive me to Limehouse Police Station.’
‘My name is Champnell. Have you received any communication from Scotland Yard to-night having reference to a matter in which I am interested?’
‘Do you mean about the Arab? We received a telephonic message about half an hour ago.’
‘Since communicating with Scotland Yard this has come to hand from the authorities at Vauxhall Station. Can you tell me if anything has been seen of the person in question by the men of your division?’
‘I will inquire.’
He passed through a door into an inner room and the ‘report’ went with him.
‘Beg pardon, sir, but was that a Harab you was a-talking about to the Hinspector?’
The speaker was a gentleman unmistakably of the guttersnipe class. He was seated on a form. Close at hand hovered97 a policeman whose special duty it seemed to be to keep an eye upon his movements.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘I beg your pardon, sir, but I saw a Harab myself about a hour ago,—leastways he looked like as if he was a Harab.’
‘What sort of a looking person was he?’
‘I can’t ’ardly tell you that, sir, because I didn’t never have a proper look at him,—but I know he had a bloomin’ great bundle on ’is ’ead.… It was like this, ’ere. I was comin’ round the corner, as he was passin’, I never see ’im till I was right atop of ’im, so that I haccidentally run agin ’im,—my heye! didn’t ’e give me a downer! I was down on the back of my ’ead in the middle of the road before I knew where I was and ’e was at the other end of the street. If ’e ’adn’t knocked me more’n ’arf silly I’d been after ’im, sharp,—I tell you! and hasked ’im what ’e thought ’e was a-doin’ of, but afore my senses was back agin ’e was out o’ sight,—clean!’
‘You are sure he had a bundle on his head?’
‘I noticed it most particular.’
‘How long ago do you say this was? and where?’
‘About a hour ago,—perhaps more, perhaps less.’
‘Was he alone?’
‘It seemed to me as if a cove35 was a follerin’ ’im, leastways there was a bloke as was a-keepin’ close at ’is ’eels,—though I don’t know what ’is little game was, I’m sure. Ask the pleesman—he knows, he knows everythink, the pleesman do.’
I turned to the ‘pleesman.’
‘Who is this man?’
The ‘pleesman’ put his hands behind his back, and threw out his chest. His manner was distinctly affable.
‘Well,—he’s being detained upon suspicion. He’s given us an address at which to make inquiries98, and inquiries are being made. I shouldn’t pay too much attention to what he says if I were you. I don’t suppose he’d be particular about a lie or two.’
This frank expression of opinion re-aroused the indignation of the gentleman on the form.
‘There you hare! at it again! That’s just like you peelers,—you’re all the same! What do you know about me?—Nuffink! This gen’leman ain’t got no call to believe me, not as I knows on,—it’s all the same to me if ’e do or don’t, but it’s trewth what I’m sayin’, all the same.’
‘Now then, not so much noise outside there!’ He addressed me. ‘None of our men have seen anything of the person you’re inquiring for, so far as we’re aware. But, if you like, I will place a man at your disposal, and he will go round with you, and you will be able to make your own inquiries.’
A capless, wildly excited young ragamuffin came dashing in at the street door. He gasped100 out, as clearly as he could for the speed which he had made:
‘There’s been murder done, Mr Pleesman,—a Harab’s killed a bloke.’
‘Mr Pleesman’ gripped him by the shoulder.
‘What’s that?’
‘Leave me alone! I don’t want none of your ’andling!—I ain’t done nuffink to you! I tell you ’e ’as!’
The Inspector spoke through the pigeon-hole.
‘He has what, my lad? What do you say has happened?’
‘There’s been murder done—it’s right enough!—there ’as!—up at Mrs ’Enderson’s, in Paradise Place,—a Harab’s been and killed a bloke!’
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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disappearance
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collapse
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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decided
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suspense
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precisely
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perfectly
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gasp
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nay
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tremor
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beckoned
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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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shrieks
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wailing
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wretch
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incarnate
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paraphernalia
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dread
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tangible
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prosaic
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anguish
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provocative
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rattling
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jolting
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diabolical
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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morbid
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entreat
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hindrance
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cove
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verge
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dual
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den
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hearty
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mere
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modicum
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inferno
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previously
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shrouded
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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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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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ramble
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interval
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50
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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degradations
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| 堕落( degradation的名词复数 )； 下降； 陵削； 毁坏 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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sect
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| n.派别，宗教，学派，派系 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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ferment
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| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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stipulated
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| vt.& vi.规定；约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
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demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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conditionally
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| adv. 有条件地 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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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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interned
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| v.拘留，关押( intern的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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abdomen
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| n.腹，下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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purport
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| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
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holocaust
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| n.大破坏；大屠杀 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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tingled
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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noxious
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| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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persecutor
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| n. 迫害者 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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laconic
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| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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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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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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