"I think so. He is awake and his voice is stronger, but whether the improvement will last, I can't say."
"What does the doctor say?"
"That doesn't say much for Jerce's reputation," said Ackworth.
"Dr. Jerce is only a man, after all," answered Clarice, earnestly, "and Uncle Henry's disease is so very mysterious, that neither he nor Dr. Wentworth can say anything explicit2."
Ackworth twisted his hands behind his back and swayed to and fro on his toe-tips. "I wonder if Mr. Horran is really ill, after all."
Clarice, with her handkerchief to her mouth, looked at him suddenly and inquiringly. "What do you mean?"
"From what I have seen of Mr. Horran," said Ackworth, quietly, "he does not appear to be ill. His colour is good, he eats well, and sleeps a lot. He has not lost flesh, and his eyes are steady. Certainly, he appears to become giddy at times, but that might be biliousness3 from his sedentary life. Also he gets cross and fractious--that, again, might be liver. He lives very unhealthily, stewing4 in that room with a fire, and such an existence is enough to produce all the symptoms he suffers from, without any real physical cause."
"Well?" questioned Clarice, not knowing what this speech meant.
"You won't be offended?" asked Ackworth in his turn, and uneasily.
"With what?"
"I am about to say something about the Purple Fern."
"Yes?" she stared at him, amazed.
Ackworth still continued to sway to and fro, and gazed at the ground as he replied, "Mr. Horran may take exercise at night."
"Go on. I don't understand."
"His illness may be a feint."
"For what?"
"For business connected with the Purple Fern."
"Anthony!" Clarice recoiled5, as though he had struck her. "Oh, I know it sounds ridiculous," said Ackworth, hurriedly, "and perhaps it may prove to be ridiculous. All the same, the fact of that man searching Jerce on the terrace, and this mysterious illness, and the envelope containing the stamped fern, and the presence of the gold box, which Jerce now has--well, you see--I don't exactly know how to put it."
Clarice drew near to him again. "Do you mean to say that Uncle Henry has anything to do with these murders?"
"Oh, no--I don't go so far as that, my dear. Do you remember that when I became engaged to you, you asked me to see Barras, the lawyer, since your guardian6 was too ill to be spoken to?"
"Yes, I wanted you to inquire about the money."
"Well, I spoke7 to Barras last week, and learn that you certainly get two thousand per annum in a couple of years. Ferdy gets the same, and Mr. Horran is sole guardian, with a right to appoint another guardian should he die. Mr. Barras, wishing to stand well with me, I suppose, as your future husband, hinted that you might not find everything right at Horran's death."
"But Uncle Henry told me that everything was in order," cried Miss Baird, "and declared that he had appointed me guardian to look after Ferdy's money when he died--when Uncle Henry died, I mean."
"Humph! That does not entirely8 agree with Mr. Barras' hints, and he did no more than hint. But something is wrong, and Mr. Horran--as I understood from Barras--is the cause of its being wrong."
"Uncle Henry has always been a good friend."
"Quite so, but has he been a good guardian?"
"Yes. No one could have been a better one, so far as I know."
"Precisely," said Anthony, quickly, "so far as you know. But the fact is, Clarice, I don't like Mr. Horran, and I never liked him, and--and--" he hesitated.
"Well, then, three months ago I was in town, and went to a ball at the Shah's Rooms. It was not--to be plain--a very reputable dance, or at all events it was extremely Bohemian. I went there before I was engaged to you, Clarice; now, I should not go. Well, then, at that dance, I saw Mr. Horran--"
"Oh, that's quite impossible. He has not been out of his room for years and years."
"I recognised him at a glance," said Ackworth, steadily10, "his military carriage, his spare figure, his long, iron-grey moustache. And he was with a tall man, who had a criss-cross scar on his left cheek."
"The man in grey who searched Dr. Jerce on the terrace?"
"The same--if Dr. Jerce's description is to be relied upon. I never thought of the thing until you left the room. Then, remembering our late conversation, the memory of the incident came back. Now, Clarice, if this man--as Jerce declares--is mixed up in the Purple Fern business, he certainly was with Mr. Horran, and that, don't you see, brings your guardian into the affair."
Clarice turned quite pale. "It is very mysterious," she said to herself, "and yet it seems perfectly11 absurd. Uncle Henry is ill; he has always been ill, off and on, for the last ten years. I have lived in this house with him all the time. How could he possibly go to town even once without my knowledge?"
Ackworth shrugged12 his square shoulders. "Oh, as to that, a good motor-car could take him to London and back in a few hours."
"Uncle Henry has not got a motor-car."
"He may have one we do not know of," said Ackworth, quickly, "and as that French window of his opens on to the terrace on the other side of the house, it would not be difficult for him to slip out, and back again, without your knowing."
"But Chalks has sat up with him often."
"Quite so, but he may have slipped out on the nights Chalks did not sit up with him."
"Are you sure it was Uncle Henry you saw at the Shah's Rooms?"
"I caught only a glimpse of him with the scarred man, but I feel certain he was Mr. Horran. He has rather a striking personality and appearance, you know. Also, when I moved forward to speak to him, he saw me, and vanished in the crowd of dancers. If he was there, when he was supposed to be ill at home, there may be something in Mr. Barras's hints. Also, as he was with the man in grey, and the box was found on the terrace yonder by you, and a stamped picture of the fern was delivered to him, it seems to me that Mr. Horran is secretly mixed up with the matter."
"It is all supposition," said Clarice, uneasily. "Quite so. However, the best thing to do will be to ask Mr. Horran for an explanation."
"Yes. And Dr. Jerce."
"No, I shouldn't do that. Jerce is an eminently13 respectable man, and if anything was wrong, I should think he would show scant14 mercy to the wrong-doer."
"Dr. Jerce may know more than you imagine," said Clarice, quickly, and she related what the vicar had said about the loan. Ackworth listened with great attention.
"Humph! Jerce apparently15 suspects something also. Horran has been money-lending, it seems, and is quite a Shylock. Why don't you speak to Horran about the loan to the vicar? It is your money Horran has been playing with, if it is true that he has nothing save an income for acting16 as your guardian."
"But Mr. Clarke told me that Dr. Jerce would not allow him to see Uncle Henry about the loan."
"Dr. Jerce wants to keep his patient quiet, and may be quite deceived about this disease--if it is a disease."
"Dr. Jerce is too clever to be deceived."
"But he is," insisted Ackworth, "seeing that neither he nor Wentworth can state what the disease is. I tell you what, Clarice, you announce your engagement to me, and that will give some colour for me to interfere17. Then we can get Mr. Clarke in to see Mr. Horran, and also we can ask Mr. Horran about his appearance with the man in grey at the Shah's Rooms. Finally, we can ask Mr. Barras to be present and make him explain his hints. In this way, everything will be cleared up, and matters can be placed upon a proper basis."
Clarice assented18. "I think your idea is very good," she said, quietly; "all the same, I fancy you are exaggerating, when you say that Uncle Henry has to do with this dreadful business of the Purple Fern."
Ackworth shrugged his shoulders. "He can best explain that. I am quite prepared to state on oath that I saw Mr. Horran with the Purple Fern man at the Shah's Rooms. But, of course, as you say, I may be exaggerating. Everything I say may be explained by Mr. Horran, but only he can put things right."
At this point of the conversation, Dr. Jerce returned to the drawing-room, looking rather perturbed19 for so serene20 a man. He was drawing on his gloves as he entered. "Where is Ferdinand?" was his first question, as he cast a look round.
"Upstairs, lying down," said Clarice, "don't you remember he--"
"Yes! yes!" Jerce turned to the door again. "I know where his room is. I must see him before I go." He glanced at his watch. "I'll just have time for a short conversation before I catch this three o'clock train. Excuse me, Miss Baird, but--"
"Doctor, stop--stop. What is the matter with Uncle Henry?"
"He is annoyed by Mr. Clarke."
"About the loan?" asked Clarice, quickly. Jerce looked at her, astonished. "Yes. Do you know about that?"
"Mr. Clarke himself told me, and said that you did not want him to see Uncle Henry about it."
"I certainly did not," said Jerce, decidedly. "Clarke is always in difficulties, and Horran has been very good to him. His talking of incessant21 trouble would only irritate Horran, so I would not allow him to enter the house. But it seems that Mr. Clarke slipped in through the French window, and made trouble to-day, while Chalks was out. I have promised to see Clarke when I return here again, and to arrange that the interest of the loan stands over for another six months, which will give him time to turn round, as it were. But I wish he had not forced his way into the sick-room. He has done harm."
"But, doctor, about the Purple Fern?"
"Oh, Horran talked about that; but I have managed to set his fears at rest. He thinks he may be murdered, so I have told Chalks to stay with him all night. To-morrow, the Scotland Yard people will take up the matter. I'll go to the Yard to-night, and tell everything we have discovered; also, I'll give in the gold box as evidence."
"And don't you think--" began Ackworth, when Jerce cut him short.
"I have no time to talk," he said, impatiently. "I must see Ferdinand and then catch this train, as I have much to do. Miss Baird, your guardian is rather feverish22 with excitement; you had better not see him to-night. To-morrow, I'll come down again." And with these final instructions, Jerce slipped out of the room.
Clarice and Anthony looked at one another. "I shall see Uncle Henry for all that," said Clarice, determinedly23.
"No! no. Better obey the doctor's instructions," urged Anthony, "after all, what we have to say will keep until to-morrow."
"But I am so worried."
"I know, darling--I know." He slipped his arm round her slender waist. "But it is best to settle this perplexing business in a ship-shape way. Leave Mr. Horran alone for to-night."
Clarice thought for a few moments. "Anthony," she said, earnestly, "I cannot wait for days for an explanation, and it seems to me that there can be none, unless Mr. Barras is present. Christmas is here in a couple of days, so I want you to go up to town and bring down Mr. Barras to-morrow. Then we can take him into Uncle Henry's room, and have an explanation."
"Humph!" said Anthony, doubtfully. "It seems to me that if Jerce goes to Scotland Yard, the authorities there may wish for an explanation from Mr. Horran."
"Not if you hold your tongue as to Uncle Henry's being at the Shah's Rooms," she said, anxiously.
"You want me to shield him?"
"We don't know yet that he is guilty," she reminded him, sharply.
Ackworth nodded. After all, he had doubtful ground to go upon, in connecting Horran with the criminal triumvirate whose trade-mark was the Purple Fern. The man might be entirely innocent, notwithstanding appearances. However, if Barras was an honest lawyer--and, on the face of it, there was no reason to think that he was not--he would be able, in the presence of his client, to state if the property of the Baird orphans24 was administered honourably25. If Horran had been using the money for his own secret pleasure, and for loans to Clarke and others, he would be forced to account for the same. And such a forced explanation would inevitably26 compel him to acknowledge or deny that he was at the Shah's Rooms when Ackworth saw him. If he confessed so much, he would also have to explain how he came to know the grey man, who assuredly--if the gold box was to be accounted for--had to do with the Purple Fern crimes. Then, in one way or another, matters might be explained. They were certainly mysterious enough at present.
In the meantime, the lovers postponed27 inevitable28 disagreeables, in order to talk about their own particular future, and to enjoy themselves the more, they went for a short drive in Ackworth's dog-cart, which had been waiting all this time at the door, in charge of Mr. Horran's groom29. Anthony had not brought his own servant, so the conversation of himself and his fiancée was perfectly free and unfettered. As they drove along the High Street, Dr. Jerce passed them, in earnest conversation with Ferdinand.
"I expect he's bringing your brother to his senses," said Ackworth, hopefully.
"I hope he will," sighed Clarice. "I am not very fond of Dr. Jerce, but he is certainly a good man, and his example is one which Ferdy should follow. I wonder," she added, musingly30, "if Ferdy ever saw Uncle Henry at the Shah's Rooms. That is just the sort of fast place which Ferdy would go to."
Anthony flicked31 the horse's ears with his whip, and laughed. "I have been there also," said he, coolly. "Perhaps I should not have confessed as much to you, my dear."
"Why not?" demanded Clarice, with perfect candour. "You must not think me a cotton-wool young woman. I quite understand that men are men."
"And that women are angels?" questioned Anthony, bending to see her pretty face.
"We leave that for the men to say," returned Clarice, dryly.
"This man says it--of you."
"This man does not talk sense."
"Nor does he intend to. I have had enough of sense for the day, my dearest. Sensible conversation invariably means worry. Let us enjoy our golden hour, without transmuting32 it into dull lead."
Miss Baird, who was feminine after all, and very much in love and young in years and spirits, thought that this was an excellent idea, so the rest of the drive was all that could be desired in the way of cheap and genuine happiness. When it ended, she gave Anthony Russian tea in a tumbler and dainty caviare sandwiches. Ferdy, as they learned from Mrs. Rebson, had returned from the railway station to enjoy his golden hour at the vicarage, and Mr. Horran had again fallen asleep.
But simple happiness over afternoon tea could not last for ever, and when Anthony set out for Gattlinsands, after a lingering farewell, Clarice felt the reaction. To prevent herself from feeling dull, it was necessary that she should do something, so true to her intention of defying Dr. Jerce, she tapped at the door of the sick-room. Chalks appeared, with a whispered communication that the patient was awake and too fractious to see anyone on that night. Clarice returned to the drawing-room, and read indolently until Wentworth came to pay a late visit at eight o'clock. Just as she descended33 the stairs, dressed for dinner, Miss Baird caught the young physician at the door, and accosted34 him at once.
"Is Uncle Henry better, doctor?" she asked, coming forward.
Wentworth was a slim, shy man, who wore spectacles, and spoke in a jerky, staccato manner when addressed by a woman. "Better--yes--that is,--more awake. Lethargy passed away--very bad temper. Better leave him alone until the morning. 'Night, Miss Baird," and he shot off in confusion, like a timid schoolboy.
Clarice made a hurried meal, and returned drearily35 to the empty drawing-room, without any desire to encounter the fractiousness of her guardian, which she had experienced on more than one occasion. After the somewhat exciting day she really felt worn-out and in need of rest, therefore made up her mind to retire comparatively early. However, she hoped that Ferdy would come home soon to explain his absence from the dinner table, and passed the time in playing Patience until ten o'clock. Finally, after asking Mrs. Rebson if the house was locked up, and if Ferdy had returned--which he had not--she ascended36 the stairs to bed. At the top of them she found Ferdy clinging to the banisters. Apparently he had entered the house without Mrs. Rebson's knowledge.
"Oh!" said Clarice, perceiving his condition. "Again."
Ferdy chuckled37. "I've been--S'v'y H'l--B't'fly pretty girl--j'lly ev'ning--such fun--it's--it's--" Here he missed one step and rolled down two, with an idiotic38 giggle39. Clarice would have struck him in her disgust, but that would have done no good. Being a prompt and powerful young woman, she caught him by the collar of his coat and dragged him into his bedroom on the first floor. There she locked him in, while Ferdy protested weakly all the time, and only yielded to superior force.
"Faugh!" said Clarice, throwing the key on her dressing-table. "What a weak fool he is." She sat down and stared at the reflection of her face in the Louis Quinze mirror. It looked weary and drawn40. "I shall be an old woman soon if this sort of thing goes on," she thought. "Oh, dear me, how tired I am of bearing other people's burdens. I must end it. In some way, I'll get the truth out of Uncle Henry, settle the money matters, marry Anthony, and wash my hands of everything. As to Ferdy, I'll marry him to Prudence41 and let her look after him."
Having thus arranged the future, she retired42 to rest. But not to sleep, since her brain was much too active for slumber43. She tossed and turned and sighed wearily at intervals44, as the hours dragged on to midnight. Only on hearing the church clock strike twelve did she begin to lose consciousness, and, finally, thankfully sank into a deep slumber, which lasted for hours.
Towards dawn, as is often the case with worried people, she began to dream in a confused, broken way, and the purple fern, very naturally, since it was in her mind, mingled45 with her fleeting46 visions. She fled--so it seemed--through dark streets, of nightmare length, pursued by the man in grey, who assumed monstrous47 proportions. He caught her, at the end of interminable miles, and--so she dreamed, with gasping48 horror--stabbed her to the heart. Then she felt the mark of the Purple Fern--the mark, indeed, of the Beast, as it might be--stamped on her forehead. Afterwards, half awake and half asleep--only in her dream she was dead--she felt herself being placed in a narrow coffin49, and heard the hammering of the nails, which closed her in for ever and ever and ever. With a violent effort she broke the nightmare's bonds, and woke in a cold perspiration50, to see the cold, faint dawn glimmering51 behind the window blinds, and--horrible feeling--to hear the knocking continue. But not on her dream coffin. The blows came on her bedroom door, steady, persistent52, terrifying. She heard her name called in a quavering voice, and sprang out of bed, confused and dazed.
Wrapping a dressing-gown round her and somewhat recovering her senses, she hastily unlocked the door, which she invariably kept closed during the hours of sleep. On the threshold stood Chalks, white and shaking, with chattering53 teeth and trembling hands.
"Miss! Miss!" he stammered54, and then fled down the stairs, unable to get out his words. Sick with fear, Clarice followed in her disordered attire55, and came to Horran's room. On the bed lay the body of the sick man, with a cruel wound in his breast. He was stiff and cold, dead--murdered--and on his chill forehead was the infernal mark of the Purple Fern.
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1
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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explicit
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| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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biliousness
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| [医] 胆汁质 | |
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stewing
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recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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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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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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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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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perturbed
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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honourably
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| adv.可尊敬地，光荣地，体面地 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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transmuting
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| v.使变形，使变质，把…变成…( transmute的现在分词 ) | |
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descended
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accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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49
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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50
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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51
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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52
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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53
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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54
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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