Indeed, his feeling towards her, whatever it had been at first, had now so far changed that it had become a distinct affection of a purely2 animal kind. Indeed, it seemed as though the man’s nature had become corrupted3, and that all the baser and more selfish and more reckless qualities had become more conspicuous4. There was not so much sternness apparent in his nature, because there was less self-restraint. Determination had become indifference5.
The visible change in Edgar was that he grew morbid6, sad, silent; the neighbours thought he was going mad. He became absorbed in the kite, and watched it not only by day, but often all night long. It became an obsession7 to him.
Caswall took a personal interest in the keeping of the great kite flying. He had a vast coil of cord efficient for the purpose, which worked on a roller fixed8 on the parapet of the tower. There was a winch for the pulling in of the slack; the outgoing line being controlled by a racket. There was invariably one man at least, day and night, on the tower to attend to it. At such an elevation9 there was always a strong wind, and at times the kite rose to an enormous height, as well as travelling for great distances laterally10. In fact, the kite became, in a short time, one of the curiosities of Castra Regis and all around it. Edgar began to attribute to it, in his own mind, almost human qualities. It became to him a separate entity11, with a mind and a soul of its own. Being idle-handed all day, he began to apply to what he considered the service of the kite some of his spare time, and found a new pleasure—a new object in life—in the old schoolboy game of sending up “runners” to the kite. The way this is done is to get round pieces of paper so cut that there is a hole in the centre, through which the string of the kite passes. The natural action of the wind-pressure takes the paper along the string, and so up to the kite itself, no matter how high or how far it may have gone.
In the early days of this amusement Edgar Caswall spent hours. Hundreds of such messengers flew along the string, until soon he bethought him of writing messages on these papers so that he could make known his ideas to the kite. It may be that his brain gave way under the opportunities given by his illusion of the entity of the toy and its power of separate thought. From sending messages he came to making direct speech to the kite—without, however, ceasing to send the runners. Doubtless, the height of the tower, seated as it was on the hill-top, the rushing of the ceaseless wind, the hypnotic effect of the lofty altitude of the speck12 in the sky at which he gazed, and the rushing of the paper messengers up the string till sight of them was lost in distance, all helped to further affect his brain, undoubtedly13 giving way under the strain of beliefs and circumstances which were at once stimulating14 to the imagination, occupative of his mind, and absorbing.
The next step of intellectual decline was to bring to bear on the main idea of the conscious identity of the kite all sorts of subjects which had imaginative force or tendency of their own. He had, in Castra Regis, a large collection of curious and interesting things formed in the past by his forebears, of similar tastes to his own. There were all sorts of strange anthropological15 specimens16, both old and new, which had been collected through various travels in strange places: ancient Egyptian relics17 from tombs and mummies; curios from Australia, New Zealand, and the South Seas; idols18 and images—from Tartar ikons to ancient Egyptian, Persian, and Indian objects of worship; objects of death and torture of American Indians; and, above all, a vast collection of lethal19 weapons of every kind and from every place—Chinese “high pinders,” double knives, Afghan double-edged scimitars made to cut a body in two, heavy knives from all the Eastern countries, ghost daggers20 from Thibet, the terrible kukri of the Ghourka and other hill tribes of India, assassins’ weapons from Italy and Spain, even the knife which was formerly21 carried by the slave-drivers of the Mississippi region. Death and pain of every kind were fully22 represented in that gruesome collection.
That it had a fascination23 for Oolanga goes without saying. He was never tired of visiting the museum in the tower, and spent endless hours in inspecting the exhibits, till he was thoroughly24 familiar with every detail of all of them. He asked permission to clean and polish and sharpen them—a favour which was readily granted. In addition to the above objects, there were many things of a kind to awaken25 human fear. Stuffed serpents of the most objectionable and horrid26 kind; giant insects from the tropics, fearsome in every detail; fishes and crustaceans27 covered with weird28 spikes29; dried octopuses30 of great size. Other things, too, there were, not less deadly though seemingly innocuous—dried fungi31, traps intended for birds, beasts, fishes, reptiles32, and insects; machines which could produce pain of any kind and degree, and the only mercy of which was the power of producing speedy death.
Caswall, who had never before seen any of these things, except those which he had collected himself, found a constant amusement and interest in them. He studied them, their uses, their mechanism—where there was such—and their places of origin, until he had an ample and real knowledge of all concerning them. Many were secret and intricate, but he never rested till he found out all the secrets. When once he had become interested in strange objects, and the way to use them, he began to explore various likely places for similar finds. He began to inquire of his household where strange lumber33 was kept. Several of the men spoke34 of old Simon Chester as one who knew everything in and about the house. Accordingly, he sent for the old man, who came at once. He was very old, nearly ninety years of age, and very infirm. He had been born in the Castle, and had served its succession of masters—present or absent—ever since. When Edgar began to question him on the subject regarding which he had sent for him, old Simon exhibited much perturbation. In fact, he became so frightened that his master, fully believing that he was concealing35 something, ordered him to tell at once what remained unseen, and where it was hidden away. Face to face with discovery of his secret, the old man, in a pitiable state of concern, spoke out even more fully than Mr. Caswall had expected.
“Indeed, indeed, sir, everything is here in the tower that has ever been put away in my time except—except—” here he began to shake and tremble it—“except the chest which Mr. Edgar—he who was Mr. Edgar when I first took service—brought back from France, after he had been with Dr. Mesmer. The trunk has been kept in my room for safety; but I shall send it down here now.”
“What is in it?” asked Edgar sharply.
“Is there no lock?”
“I suppose so, sir; but I do not know. There is no keyhole.”
“Send it here; and then come to me yourself.”
The trunk, a heavy one with steel bands round it, but no lock or keyhole, was carried in by two men. Shortly afterwards old Simon attended his master. When he came into the room, Mr. Caswall himself went and closed the door; then he asked:
“How do you open it?”
“I do not know, sir.”
“Do you mean to say that you never opened it?”
“Most certainly I say so, your honour. How could I? It was entrusted37 to me with the other things by my master. To open it would have been a breach38 of trust.”
“Quite remarkable40! Leave it with me. Close the door behind you. Stay—did no one ever tell you about it—say anything regarding it—make any remark?”
Old Simon turned pale, and put his trembling hands together.
“Oh, sir, I entreat41 you not to touch it. That trunk probably contains secrets which Dr. Mesmer told my master. Told them to his ruin!”
“How do you mean? What ruin?”
“Sir, he it was who, men said, sold his soul to the Evil One; I had thought that that time and the evil of it had all passed away.”
“That will do. Go away; but remain in your own room, or within call. I may want you.”
The old man bowed deeply and went out trembling, but without speaking a word.
点击收听单词发音
1 zest | |
n.乐趣;滋味,风味;兴趣 | |
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2 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
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3 corrupted | |
(使)败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)腐化; 引起(计算机文件等的)错误; 破坏 | |
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4 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
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5 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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6 morbid | |
adj.病的;致病的;病态的;可怕的 | |
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7 obsession | |
n.困扰,无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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8 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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9 elevation | |
n.高度;海拔;高地;上升;提高 | |
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10 laterally | |
ad.横向地;侧面地;旁边地 | |
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11 entity | |
n.实体,独立存在体,实际存在物 | |
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12 speck | |
n.微粒,小污点,小斑点 | |
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13 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
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14 stimulating | |
adj.有启发性的,能激发人思考的 | |
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15 anthropological | |
adj.人类学的 | |
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16 specimens | |
n.样品( specimen的名词复数 );范例;(化验的)抽样;某种类型的人 | |
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17 relics | |
[pl.]n.遗物,遗迹,遗产;遗体,尸骸 | |
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18 idols | |
偶像( idol的名词复数 ); 受崇拜的人或物; 受到热爱和崇拜的人或物; 神像 | |
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19 lethal | |
adj.致死的;毁灭性的 | |
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20 daggers | |
匕首,短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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21 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
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22 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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23 fascination | |
n.令人着迷的事物,魅力,迷恋 | |
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24 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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25 awaken | |
vi.醒,觉醒;vt.唤醒,使觉醒,唤起,激起 | |
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26 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
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27 crustaceans | |
n.甲壳纲动物(如蟹、龙虾)( crustacean的名词复数 ) | |
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28 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
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29 spikes | |
n.穗( spike的名词复数 );跑鞋;(防滑)鞋钉;尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 );偷偷地给某人的饮料加入(更多)酒精( 或药物);把尖状物钉入;打乱某人的计划 | |
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30 octopuses | |
章鱼( octopus的名词复数 ) | |
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31 fungi | |
n.真菌,霉菌 | |
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32 reptiles | |
n.爬行动物,爬虫( reptile的名词复数 ) | |
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33 lumber | |
n.木材,木料;v.以破旧东西堆满;伐木;笨重移动 | |
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34 spoke | |
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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35 concealing | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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36 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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37 entrusted | |
v.委托,托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38 breach | |
n.违反,不履行;破裂;vt.冲破,攻破 | |
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39 sneered | |
讥笑,冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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41 entreat | |
v.恳求,恳请 | |
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