But walkte each where for feare of hid mischance,
Holding a lattis still before his Pace,
Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace.”
Faerie Queene.
MISS LEAVENWORTH, who appeared to have lingered from a vague terror of everything and everybody in the house not under her immediate1 observation, shrank from my side the moment she found herself left comparatively alone, and, retiring to a distant corner, gave herself up to grief. Turning my attention, therefore, in the direction of Mr. Gryce, I found that person busily engaged in counting his own fingers with a troubled expression upon his countenance2, which may or may not have been the result of that arduous3 employment. But, at my approach, satisfied perhaps that he possessed4 no more than the requisite5 number, he dropped his hands and greeted me with a faint smile which was, considering all things, too suggestive to be pleasant.
“Well,” said I, taking my stand before him, “I cannot blame you. You had a right to do as you thought best; but how had you the heart? Was she not sufficiently6 compromised without your bringing out that wretched handkerchief, which she may or may not have dropped in that room, but whose presence there, soiled though it was with pistol grease, is certainly no proof that she herself was connected with this murder?”
“Mr. Raymond,” he returned, “I have been detailed7 as police officer and detective to look after this case, and I propose to do it.”
“Of course,” I hastened to reply. “I am the last man to wish you to shirk your duty; but you cannot have the temerity8 to declare that this young and tender creature can by any possibility be considered as at all likely to be implicated9 in a crime so monstrous10 and unnatural11. The mere12 assertion of another woman’s suspicions on the subject ought not——”
But here Mr. Gryce interrupted me. “You talk when your attention should be directed to more important matters. That other woman, as you are pleased to designate the fairest ornament13 of New York society, sits over there in tears; go and comfort her.”
Looking at him in amazement14, I hesitated to comply; but, seeing he was in earnest, crossed to Mary Leavenworth and sat down by her side. She was weeping, but in a slow, unconscious way, as if grief had been mastered by fear. The fear was too undisguised and the grief too natural for me to doubt the genuineness of either.
“Miss Leavenworth,” said I, “any attempt at consolation15 on the part of a stranger must seem at a time like this the most bitter of mockeries; but do try and consider that circumstantial evidence is not always absolute proof.”
Starting with surprise, she turned her eyes upon me with a slow, comprehensive gaze wonderful to see in orbs16 so tender and womanly.
“No,” she repeated; “circumstantial evidence is not absolute proof, but Eleanore does not know this. She is so intense; she cannot see but one thing at a time. She has been running her head into a noose17, and oh,—” Pausing, she clutched my arm with a passionate18 grasp: “Do you think there is any danger? Will they—” She could not go on.
“Miss Leavenworth,” I protested, with a warning look toward the detective, “what do you mean?”
Like a flash, her glance followed mine, an instant change taking place in her bearing.
“Your cousin may be intense,” I went on, as if nothing had occurred; “but I do not know to what you refer when you say she has been running her head into a noose.”
“I mean this,” she firmly returned: “that, wittingly or unwittingly, she has so parried and met the questions which have been put to her in this room that any one listening to her would give her the credit of knowing more than she ought to of this horrible affair. She acts”—Mary whispered, but not so low but that every word could be distinctly heard in all quarters of the room—“as if she were anxious to conceal19 something. But she is not; I am sure she is not. Eleanore and I are not good friends; but all the world can never make me believe she has any more knowledge of this murder than I have. Won’t somebody tell her, then—won’t you—that her manner is a mistake; that it is calculated to arouse suspicion; that it has already done so? And oh, don’t forget to add”—her voice sinking to a decided20 whisper now—“what you have just repeated to me: that circumstantial evidence is not always absolute proof.”
I surveyed her with great astonishment21. What an actress this woman was!
“You request me to tell her this,” said I. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to speak to her yourself?”
“Eleanore and I hold little or no confidential22 communication,” she replied.
I could easily believe this, and yet I was puzzled. Indeed, there was something incomprehensible in her whole manner. Not knowing what else to say, I remarked, “That is unfortunate. She ought to be told that the straightforward23 course is the best by all means.”
Mary Leavenworth only wept. “Oh, why has this awful trouble come to me, who have always been so happy before!”
“Perhaps for the very reason that you have always been so happy.”
“It was not enough for dear uncle to die in this horrible manner; but she, my own cousin, had to——”
I touched her arm, and the action seemed to recall her to herself. Stopping short, she bit her lip.
“Miss Leavenworth,” I whispered, “you should hope for the best. Besides, I honestly believe you to be disturbing yourself unnecessarily. If nothing fresh transpires24, a mere prevarication25 or so of your cousin’s will not suffice to injure her.”
I said this to see if she had any reason to doubt the future. I was amply rewarded.
Suddenly, a thought seemed to strike her. Wheeling round in her seat till her lovely, perfumed wrapper brushed my knee, she asked: “Why didn’t they ask me more questions? I could have told them Eleanore never left her room last night.”
“You could?” What was I to think of this woman?
“Yes; my room is nearer the head of the stairs than hers; if she had passed my door, I should have heard her, don’t you see?”
Ah, that was all.
“That does not follow,” I answered sadly. “Can you give no other reason?”
“I would say whatever was necessary,” she whispered.
I started back. Yes, this woman would lie now to save her cousin; had lied during the inquest. But then I felt grateful, and now I was simply horrified27.
“Miss Leavenworth,” said I, “nothing can justify28 one in violating the dictates29 of his own conscience, not even the safety of one we do not altogether love.”
“No?” she returned; and her lip took a tremulous curve, the lovely bosom30 heaved, and she softly looked away.
If Eleanore’s beauty had made less of an impression on my fancy, or her frightful31 situation awakened32 less anxiety in my breast, I should have been a lost man from that moment.
“I did not mean to do anything very wrong,” Miss Leavenworth continued. “Do not think too badly of me.”
“No, no,” said I; and there is not a man living who would not have said the same in my place.
What more might have passed between us on this subject I cannot say, for just then the door opened and a man entered whom I recognized as the one who had followed Eleanore Leavenworth out, a short time before.
“Mr. Gryce,” said he, pausing just inside the door; “a word if you please.”
The detective nodded, but did not hasten towards him; instead of that, he walked deliberately33 away to the other end of the room, where he lifted the lid of an inkstand he saw there, muttered some unintelligible34 words into it, and speedily shut it again. Immediately the uncanny fancy seized me that if I should leap to that inkstand, open it and peer in, I should surprise and capture the bit of confidence he had intrusted to it. But I restrained my foolish impulse, and contented35 myself with noting the subdued36 look of respect with which the gaunt subordinate watched the approach of his superior.
“Well?” inquired the latter as he reached him: “what now?”
The man shrugged37 his shoulders, and drew his principal through the open door. Once in the hall their voices sank to a whisper, and as their backs only were visible, I turned to look at my companion. She was pale but composed.
“Has he come from Eleanore?”
“I do not know; I fear so. Miss Leavenworth,” I proceeded, “can it be possible that your cousin has anything in her possession she desires to conceal?”
“Then you think she is trying to conceal something?”
“I do not say so. But there was considerable talk about a paper——”
“They will never find any paper or anything else suspicious in Eleanore’s possession,” Mary interrupted. “In the first place, there was no paper of importance enough”—I saw Mr. Gryce’s form suddenly stiffen—“for any one to attempt its abstraction and concealment38.”
“Can you be sure of that? May not your cousin be acquainted with something——”
“There was nothing to be acquainted with, Mr. Raymond. We lived the most methodical and domestic of lives. I cannot understand, for my part, why so much should be made out of this. My uncle undoubtedly39 came to his death by the hand of some intended burglar. That nothing was stolen from the house is no proof that a burglar never entered it. As for the doors and windows being locked, will you take the word of an Irish servant as infallible upon such an important point? I cannot. I believe the assassin to be one of a gang who make their living by breaking into houses, and if you cannot honestly agree with me, do try and consider such an explanation as possible; if not for the sake of the family credit, why then”—and she turned her face with all its fair beauty upon mine, eyes, cheeks, mouth all so exquisite40 and winsome—“why then, for mine.”
Instantly Mr. Gryce turned towards us. “Mr. Raymond, will you be kind enough to step this way?”
Glad to escape from my present position, I hastily obeyed.
“What has happened?” I asked.
“We propose to take you into our confidence,” was the easy response. “Mr. Raymond, Mr. Fobbs.”
I bowed to the man I saw before me, and stood uneasily waiting. Anxious as I was to know what we really had to fear, I still intuitively shrank from any communication with one whom I looked upon as a spy.
“A matter of some importance,” resumed the detective. “It is not necessary for me to remind you that it is in confidence, is it?”
“No.”
“I thought not. Mr. Fobbs you may proceed.”
Instantly the whole appearance of the man Fobbs changed. Assuming an expression of lofty importance, he laid his large hand outspread upon his heart and commenced.
“Detailed by Mr. Gryce to watch the movements of Miss Eleanore Leavenworth, I left this room upon her departure from it, and followed her and the two servants who conducted her up-stairs to her own apartment. Once there—-”
Mr. Gryce interrupted him. “Once there? where?”
“Her own room, sir.”
“At the head of the stairs.”
“That is not her room. Go on.”
“Not her room? Then it was the fire she was after!” he cried, clapping himself on the knee.
“The fire?”
“Excuse me; I am ahead of my story. She did not appear to notice me much, though I was right behind her. It was not until she had reached the door of this room—which was not her room!” he interpolated dramatically, “and turned to dismiss her servants, that she seemed conscious of having been followed. Eying me then with an air of great dignity, quickly eclipsed, however, by an expression of patient endurance, she walked in, leaving the door open behind her in a courteous42 way I cannot sufficiently commend.”
I could not help frowning. Honest as the man appeared, this was evidently anything but a sore subject with him. Observing me frown, he softened43 his manner.
“Not seeing any other way of keeping her under my eye, except by entering the room, I followed her in, and took a seat in a remote corner. She flashed one look at me as I did so, and commenced pacing the floor in a restless kind of way I’m not altogether unused to. At last she stopped abruptly44, right in the middle of the room. ‘Get me a glass of water!’ she gasped45; ‘I’m faint again—quick! on the stand in the corner.’ Now in order to get that glass of water it was necessary for me to pass behind a dressing46 mirror that reached almost to the ceiling; and I naturally hesitated. But she turned and looked at me, and—Well, gentlemen, I think either of you would have hastened to do what she asked; or at least”—with a doubtful look at Mr. Gryce—“have given your two ears for the privilege, even if you didn’t succumb47 to the temptation.”
“Well, well!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce, impatiently.
“I am going on,” said he. “I stepped out of sight, then, for a moment; but it seemed long enough for her purpose; for when I emerged, glass in hand, she was kneeling at the grate full five feet from the spot where she had been standing48, and was fumbling49 with the waist of her dress in a way to convince me she had something concealed50 there which she was anxious to dispose of. I eyed her pretty closely as I handed her the glass of water, but she was gazing into the grate, and didn’t appear to notice. Drinking barely a drop, she gave it back, and in another moment was holding out her hands over the fire. ‘Oh, I am so cold!’ she cried, ‘so cold.’ And I verily believe she was. At any rate, she shivered most naturally. But there were a few dying embers in the grate, and when I saw her thrust her hand again into the folds of her dress I became distrustful of her intentions and, drawing a step nearer, looked over her shoulder, when I distinctly saw her drop something into the grate that clinked as it fell. Suspecting what it was, I was about to interfere51, when she sprang to her feet, seized the scuttle52 of coal that was upon the hearth53, and with one move emptied the whole upon the dying embers. ‘I want a fire,’ she cried, ‘a fire!’ ‘That is hardly the way to make one,’ I returned, carefully taking the coal out with my hands, piece by piece, and putting it back into the scuttle, till—”
“Till what?” I asked, seeing him and Mr. Gryce exchange a hurried look.
“Till I found this!” opening his large hand, and showing me a broken-handled key.
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收听单词发音
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1
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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2
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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3
arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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4
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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5
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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6
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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7
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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8
temerity
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| n.鲁莽，冒失 | |
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9
implicated
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| adj.密切关联的；牵涉其中的 | |
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10
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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11
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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12
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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13
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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14
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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15
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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16
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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17
noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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18
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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19
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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20
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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21
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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23
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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24
transpires
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的第三人称单数 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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25
prevarication
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| n.支吾；搪塞；说谎；有枝有叶 | |
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26
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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28
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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29
dictates
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| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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30
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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31
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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32
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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33
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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36
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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37
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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40
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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41
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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42
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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43
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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44
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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45
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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46
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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47
succumb
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| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
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48
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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49
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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50
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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51
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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52
scuttle
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| v.急赶，疾走，逃避；n.天窗；舷窗 | |
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53
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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