"One would think you had picked up a serpent," said Jerce, jestingly; "what is there about that snuffbox which frightens you?"
As the doctor still seemed to be puzzled, Ackworth explained. "Do you not remember those murders of a year ago?"
"Murders? Oh, er--yes. There was much in the papers about them, but I read the public journals very little. All my time is taken up with medical works. Just refresh my memory, will you, Ackworth? The dead bodies were stamped with a fern, weren't they?"
"Yes--on the forehead. Seven people were stabbed to the heart. One in Kensington Gardens, one in the Strand6, one in a house at Hampstead, and one--"
"Yes! yes! I remember now," interrupted Jerce, impatiently, "but the murderer was caught and hanged, if I forget not."
"One murderer was caught," said Anthony, with emphasis, "but he had accomplices7, whose names he refused to reveal."
"Really. But there have been no more murders since."
"No. For over a year they have ceased; but this," Ackworth pointed9 to the golden box, "and the warning received by Mr. Horran, look as though the accomplices who were not caught intend to begin another series of crimes."
Jerce looked confounded. "What's that you say, about Horran having received a warning?" he asked.
Before Ackworth could reply, Clarice drew the attention of the two men to the box, which she had opened. It was divided into two compartments10, one of which was empty, while the other was filled with a silken pad, moistened with purple ink.
"Look!" cried Miss Baird, aghast, as well she might be. "This is the very box which contained the stamp for impressing the purple fern on the forehead of the victims. Here is the pad, but the stamp has gone. Oh, Anthony, how did this come here? The letter, too, and--"
"What letter?" asked Jerce, soothing11 her agitation12, while Ackworth took over the box to examine it.
"It's not exactly a letter," said Clarice, striving to appear calm, "only Uncle Henry found an envelope outside his window yesterday. It contained a sheet of paper stamped,--but Mr. Ackworth can show it to you."
"Here it is," remarked Anthony, taking the envelope from his pocket, and passing it to the now grave doctor, "and now this box has been found, it seems to me that Mr. Horran is in danger of death."
Jerce examined the picture of the fern, turned and twisted the envelope to see if there was any address or postmark, and looked attentively13 at the dainty box. "Humph!" said he, cautiously, "the assassin must be a man of taste and culture, since he designed such a receptacle for his india-rubber stamp, and uses such costly14 stationery15."
"A man," echoed Clarice, with a sudden idea, "the assassin may not be a man at all. That box and paper look as though a woman--"
"No," interrupted the doctor, decisively, "the person who dropped this gold box here is a man. And without doubt he is connected with those wretches17 who used the purple fern to stamp their handiwork. Yes," he spoke18 half to himself, "there certainly must be a gang."
"Of course," chimed in Ackworth, quickly, "the man who was caught defied the authorities to stamp out the criminals. He admitted that he had three accomplices--"
"Two, I remember now," broke in Clarice, "two."
"Well, then, he admitted that he had two accomplices, but refused to betray their names or hiding places. Also, he warned the Government that they would avenge19 his death; but for the last twelve months they have not done so. Now," Ackworth pointed to the box and the warning missive with great significance, "we must take steps to save Mr. Horran's life," he ended, decisively.
"Certainly! Certainly," agreed Jerce. "What's to be done?"
"I'll go at once to the local police."
"No, I should not do that, Mr. Ackworth. It will be better to come with me to London to-night and report the case at Scotland Yard."
"But in the meantime, Uncle Henry may be killed."
"Chalks can stop with him day and night, until a detective arrives."
"A detective!" echoed Clarice, in dismay, "and in this house."
"Why not?" asked Jerce, quietly. "We must take strong measures. I see no reason why Horran should be killed, as he is not a wealthy man; and this gang always selected their victims, both men and women, from rich people. Perhaps to supply these luxuries." He touched the valuable box and expensive envelope. "But certainly the man in grey means to kill Horran, else why the warning?"
"The man in grey" asked Ackworth, inquiringly.
"Ferdy told me about that," said Clarice, quickly. "I was going to ask you about the man. Why did he search your pockets?"
"I did not know at the time," said the doctor, gravely, "but I know now. Come this way." He walked into the drawing-room through the window. "We must speak softly, so that no one may overhear."
"But we are quite safe here," said Clarice, as Anthony closed the window; "why are you afraid doctor?"
"Walls have ears, my dear Miss Baird, and the remaining man of the triumvirate is clever and cunning."
"The remaining man," said Ackworth; "then another of the three is dead?"
Jerce nodded and sat down quietly. He looked somewhat upset. "It is a very unpleasant business," he said, anxiously, "and I am to blame in not having allowed Ferdinand to inform the police about the assault made on me the other night. Had the man in grey been arrested, this warning or threat might not have come. Also the fact of the box with the purple fern would have ensured his hanging, as one of the gang who committed those cruel murders. I am much to blame. All I can say is, that not until I returned to Harley Street on that night did I guess why the man in grey wanted to search my pockets."
"And why did he?" asked Clarice, who had been listening to this explanation with a puzzled look.
"That's a long story."
"Then begin at the beginning," said Ackworth, impetuously, "for I want to know everything so that I can see my way."
"To what, Mr. Ackworth?"
"To protecting Mr. Horran, and getting this blackguard arrested."
Jerce nodded approvingly. "I shall lend you all the assistance I can, Mr. Ackworth," said he, firmly. "Unless this man is caught, he will be a veritable scourge20 to society."
"The story--the story!" cried Clarice, with impatience21.
"It is, indeed, a story; more like romance than real life," said Jerce, quickly. "You know, Miss Baird, that I have a consulting room in Tea Street, Whitechapel."
"Yes, Mr. Horran told me that also," said Anthony. "You physic poor people for nothing."
"I do. I earn so much money in the West End that I think it is only right to use my talents for the poor. We must do what good we can in this world, you know, Mr. Ackworth. I don't set up for being a philanthropist, but in my humble22 way I do what good I can. Well, then," he resumed, quickly, seeing that Clarice was growing impatient again, "I was there--in Tea Street--some two months ago, and attended on a young man, who was dying of consumption. He appeared to be clever, refined, and intelligent, and, for that miserably23 poor quarter, his room was furnished with great taste and somewhat expensively. He seemed to be absolutely alone, and I did what I could to save his life. All my skill was of no avail, and he died. As I had refused to receive a fee, he gave me a sealed envelope, and told me to carry it constantly upon my person."
"Why?" asked Clarice, wonderingly.
"I'll tell you later. The dying man also warned me that if I was attacked by a fellow with a criss-cross scar on his left cheek, to open the envelope. Then the man died and was buried. I did not attach much importance to the sealed letter, and--"
"Didn't you open it?" asked the girl, eagerly.
"Not until the man in grey attacked me."
"I should have opened it at once," she said, quickly.
Jerce smiled. "Eve's curiosity," he answered; "however, I am not a woman, so I refrained from unsealing the envelope, and after a time I slipped it, with some other papers, into my safe, and thought no more about the matter. But when this grey man attacked me the other night, the incident was recalled to my mind, but not," added Jerce, with emphasis, "not until Ferdinand told me that he had seen a man in grey clothes with a scar on his cheek. I then returned to London and opened the envelope. I found therein a paper containing a name and address."
"What were they?" asked Anthony, who was listening attentively.
"Alfred Osip, 14, Rough Lane, Stepney. Also there were a few lines, stating that the man who wrote them--my consumptive patient--and Osip were the surviving members of the Purple Fern gang, and that if Osip's room in Stepney were searched, papers proving the guilt24 of all would be found. Well, then, Mr. Ackworth, one man has been hanged, another has died of consumption, and the third, Alfred Osip, is the person who attacked me on that terrace, and no doubt, in the struggle, dropped this golden box, which at one time undoubtedly25 contained the india-rubber stamp used to mark the victims."
"I see," said Clarice, "but why should Osip attack you, doctor?"
Jerce looked at her in surprise. "My dear, you are usually quicker in seeing things," he said, rebukefully. "Of course, Osip in some way knew that his dying accomplice8 had betrayed him, and that I carried the sealed letter--as he thought--on my person. That was why he searched. I should have had him arrested, when Ferdinand suggested going for the police; but I never dreamed that the wretch16 was connected with the Purple Fern gang. However, I have made what amends26 I can. I went at once to Scotland Yard, and told the authorities what I have told you. Now, this warning to Horran--undoubtedly sent by Osip--and this box, will be valuable evidence. He may be caught red-handed, if he attempts the murder. But you can see now, Mr. Ackworth, why I suggest that you should not inform the local police. Osip is cunning and dangerous, so it will be advisable for us to get a detective from London to see into the matter. I fear the Crumel police may bungle27 the business. I return to London this afternoon--or, to be precise, this evening, so I shall at once communicate this new discovery to the Scotland Yard authorities."
Ackworth nodded. "I think your plan is the best, Doctor," he said, in a meditative28 voice, "only I hope this brute29 will not murder Mr. Horran in the meantime."
"I suggest that Chalks should remain constantly with Mr. Horran."
"Will not that arouse Mr. Horran's suspicions?" asked Anthony. "After all, in his delicate state of health, it will not do to let him know that he is in danger of death."
"Uncle Henry knows already," said Clarice, impetuously. "The discovery of the envelope gave him a shock--he said so, and wanted to see you, doctor. I expect the sight of the fern recalled the murders to him at once. I had an idea that the fern was familiar to me, but until Mr. Ackworth refreshed my memory, I could not be sure."
"I'll speak to Chalks," said Jerce, rising, "but it will be just as well that no one else in the house should know about the matter, and----"
"There's one who knows," said a voice, coming from a distant alcove30, and Ferdy's head appeared over the back of a deep leather armchair, which faced towards a window.
The doctor started and looked displeased31. "Ferdinand," he said, in an angry voice, "why did you listen to what does not concern you?"
"I think it concerns me a great deal," said Ferdy, coolly, and came forward into the full light of the room, very pale, and with ruffled32 hair. "I went to sleep in that chair, and woke up at the sound of your voices. I listened, half unconsciously, and then, when the story became interesting, I listened with all my ears. As the chair-back is towards you, I expect you did not see me."
"I wish you had come out, Ferdy," said Clarice, much annoyed, as she recalled her conversation with Ackworth, "how long have you been sleeping?"
"Not very long. I came in through the window, when you were out on the terrace."
Ackworth looked hard at Ferdy to see if he was lying, but could only make out that the young man looked extremely upset. He remarked upon it with some dryness, and Baird turned on him at once with the fractiousness of a spoilt child. "That story has made me quite sick," said he, restlessly. "I don't want to be murdered in my bed."
"The warning was not sent to you," said Clarice, contemptuously.
"If it had been, I'd have gone to the police station right off. I wish you had let me go on that night, doctor."
"I wish I had," said Jerce, regretfully. "However, it's too late now, and we must do the best we can. Don't say a word about this to anyone, Ferdinand."
"I jolly well won't. I don't wish to be mixed up with these horrid33 things," said Baird. "I'm going upstairs to lie down now. I was sleepy before with walking, but now I'm quite sick with--"
"Sleepy with walking," whispered Clarice, drawing close to him. "Ferdy, you have been drinking in the Savoy Hotel. Your eyes are red and your cheeks are pale. You have been--"
"Oh, leave me alone," said Ferdy, rudely, and twitching34 his sleeve from Clarice's hand, he abruptly35 left the room.
Anthony bit his lip. "That young monkey deserves a kicking," he said, sharply; "if he were not your brother, Clarice, I should break his neck."
Dr. Jerce started. Already the girl had called the man by his Christian36 name, and now the man was returning the compliment. Clarice coloured with genuine annoyance37, as Jerce was the last man to whom she wanted the secret of her engagement revealed. The doctor looked sharply from one to the other, but, saying nothing, walked towards the door, with official composure. Clarice did not know if he guessed the truth, or if he deemed the interchange of familiar names mere38 slips of the tongue. Jerce's face was inscrutable.
"Will you come with me to see our patient?" he asked Clarice, politely.
"Certainly, doctor. Please remain here, Mr. Ackworth." She cast a side glance at Jerce to see if he noted39 the stiff address, but he made no sign. "I shall return almost directly."
Anthony looked puzzled, as he could not understand why Clarice had coloured when speaking to the doctor, and was perfectly40 unaware41 that Jerce had hinted at a proposal. However, as the presence of a third person did not permit of an explanation, he merely bowed his acquiescence42. Clarice looked at her lover for one moment in a hesitating manner, then hastily followed the doctor.
She caught up with him at the door of Mr. Horran's bedroom, and they entered without speaking. As usual--since Wentworth had last seen the patient--the French window was wide open. Jerce immediately shut it sharply.
"I don't open it, sir," protested the valet. "Dr. Wentworth--"
"He has his views and I have mine," said Jerce, imperiously. "Mr. Horran is my patient, and Dr. Wentworth is merely called in, as a local practitioner44, to act while I am absent. The window must be kept closed day and night. Do you hear?"
"Yes, sir," said Chalks, sulkily. "I think master is waking, sir." Both Jerce and Clarice turned towards the bed, and saw that Horran was sitting up. He smiled in a dreamy way, when he caught sight of his old friend, but seemed disinclined to talk. Jerce felt the man's pulse, and listened to the beating of his heart. Then he produced an ophthalmoscope, and examined the eyes, turning up the lids delicately with his fingers. After a few minutes he drew back with a puzzled expression and shook his head, while Horran, in a semiconscious condition, sank back on his pillow.
"Well?" asked Clarice, eagerly.
Jerce shrugged45 his shoulders. "As usual, I can say nothing," he replied, in a low voice. "I can find no trace of optic-neuritis, and the visual acuity46 is normal. On my next visit, when Wentworth is present, I shall make a more precise examination."
"What is to be done?"
"Nothing at present. I never met with a more interesting, or more perplexing case in all my experience. I would give much to know the true cause of these symptoms. I must return to town by the three o'clock train," concluded the doctor, glancing at his watch.
"No!" said a strong voice from the bed, and there they saw Horran, sitting up, apparently47 wide awake. The sudden change was one quite characteristic of his mysterious disease. "No," repeated the sick man, with an anxious glance at Jerce, "you and I must have a talk, Daniel. Things must be settled between us."
"Yes, yes," said Jerce, good-naturedly; then sank his voice to address Clarice. "He apparently wants to talk about his will. Leave me alone with him. Take Chalks with you."
Clarice kissed her guardian48, but he took no notice of her, as his eyes were steadily49 fixed50 on the doctor's strong, calm face. "Things must be settled between us," repeated Horran, as Clarice and Chalks departed.
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1
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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amethystine
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| adj.紫水晶质的，紫色的；紫晶 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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amethysts
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| n.紫蓝色宝石( amethyst的名词复数 )；紫晶；紫水晶；紫色 | |
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6
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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7
accomplices
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| 从犯，帮凶，同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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compartments
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| n.间隔( compartment的名词复数 )；（列车车厢的）隔间；（家具或设备等的）分隔间；隔层 | |
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11
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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stationery
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| n.文具；(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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18
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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avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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bungle
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| v.搞糟；n.拙劣的工作 | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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41
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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42
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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practitioner
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| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
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45
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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acuity
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| n.敏锐，（疾病的）剧烈 | |
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47
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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48
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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49
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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