"You will do exactly what you are told," said Ackworth, stern and unbending, "or else I shall inform the police."
"You would not dare--for Clarice's sake."
"For her sake I would dare. You have made her life miserable3 for years, and I won't permit you to spoil it any longer. Also I wish to avoid a public scandal. If Osip holds his tongue this may be done. But my forbearance depends entirely4 upon your obeying orders."
"But Clarry will rage at me all the evening," whimpered Ferdy, now very afraid for his skin. "Let me go to the Vicarage."
"Yes," interposed the vicar, "let him come with me and see Prudence5. Now there is no bar to the marriage."
"I'm not a scamp," cried Ferdy, furiously.
Clarke raised his hand mildly. "My own son is worse than this boy--that is, he was worse, seeing that he is dead. Frank was a murderer, so who am I to blame Ferdinand for his wickedness? He is all right if he is kept in the strait way, and Prudence shall do this."
"Oh!" Anthony was too disgusted for words. "Would you force the girl to marry him?"
"No. But he shall tell Prudence everything. The acceptance, or refusal, shall rest with her."
"You hear?" cried Ferdy, in triumph. "Other people are not so hard on me as you and Clarry are. Can I go to the Vicarage?"
"Yes," said Ackworth, seeing the hopelessness of bringing Ferdy to a sense of his sins. "Go, and, for heaven's sake, never let me see you again. You are worse than a villain7, Ferdy--you are a fool," and he walked out, wondering how a girl like Clarice ever came to have such a blackguard for a brother. The next morning Clarice rose, feeling as though a black cloud had been lifted from her life. Things were bad, certainly, but they were not so bad as they had been. She dressed herself with great care and ate a good breakfast in her room. Ferdy had sent up to ask her to come down to the meal, but she felt that she could not sit opposite to him again. Like Anthony, she wished to see the last of Ferdy, even though he was her twin brother. When she was getting ready to go downstairs and meet Ackworth, who was expected at eleven o'clock, Mrs. Rebson rushed in.
"Oh, deary me--oh, deary me," she cried, wringing8 her hands, "what bad news, Miss Clarice--what dreadful news!"
"What is it now?" asked the girl, quietly. She had received so many shocks that one more or less mattered little. "Has Ferdy----?"
"He's all right, miss--the darling boy. You have saved him, though what you had to save him from I don't know, and he won't tell his own dear Nanny."
"Better not ask, Mrs. Rebson," said Clarice, with a weary sigh. "But your news--what is it?"
"That doctor and Jane."
"Dr. Jerce?"
"Yes, lovey--Sir Daniel as was."
"Oh! he is dead. I quite expected to hear that." Mrs. Rebson stared. "You expected to hear that Sir Daniel was torn in pieces by Jane?" she asked, incredulously. "What!" Clarice could scarcely believe her ears. "It's true, miss. You know that Jane always hated Sir Daniel, though why she did so----"
"I know why," said Clarice, thinking of the vivisection. "Go on."
"Well, then, miss, Jane followed Sir Daniel when he went away last night. The groom--Thomas--saw her. This morning he found her with her jaws9 all over blood, footsore and weary, as though she had come a long way. And she's been stabbed in the side with a penknife, miss, as the wounds--three of them--are so small."
"Well? Well?" asked Clarice, impatiently, while Mrs. Rebson stopped for sheer want of breath. "What has this to do with Sir Daniel?"
"What's it got to do with him?" screeched10 the housekeeper11, sitting down. "Why, miss, news has just come by a couple of labourers that the body of Sir Daniel has been found on Barnes Common, fifteen miles away, with his throat tore out, and the poor man as dead as a herring. It is thought that the dog did it, since she hated him, and the police are coming in an hour to make enquiries."
"It's impossible," said Clarice, hardly able to believe that Jane had thus revenged herself on her enemy. "Sir Daniel went up to London by the train."
"No, miss, he didn't, begging your pardon. Mrs. Dumps saw him at the gate hesitating, and he really did walk towards the High Street, on his way to the station, may be. But then he changed his mind and went down the lane. She saw him pass, and Jane following him as good as gold. No doubt he walked on to Barnes Common, and there Jane killed him. Oh, ain't it dreadful?" cried Mrs. Rebson, again wringing her wrinkled hands. "The Domestic Prophet never said anything like that."
Clarice did not reply. She wondered why Jerce had walked. He must have seen the dog, who hated him, follow. But, perhaps, because Jane limped--the doctor's own work--he did not think that she was dangerous. And it might be that Jerce intended to kill himself in the open instead of in his Harley Street house. But, be this as it may, Jerce was dead, and Jane had killed him. No doubt she had followed persistently12 all that long way, and, having been left behind, Jerce had sat down to rest. Clarice could picture the grim yellow-eyed dog stealing up in the dark night to the unsuspecting man, seated on some dripping bench on the Common. She could picture the silent spring, the closing of those long, white teeth on Jerce's fat throat. And then the end, with the dead body lying on the soaking ground, and the dog trailing home, weary but satisfied, with blood-stained jaws. Truly, Jerce had not escaped punishment after all, and the gods had brought home his crime to him in a terrible way.
"Master Ferdy wants to see you, deary," said Mrs. Rebson, after she had expressed her conviction that Jane would be shot, and had mentioned twice her wonder that a limping dog should have caught up with a smart walker. "I am coming down now," said the girl, quietly, and leaving Mrs. Rebson to shake her head over the wickedness of Jane, she went into the breakfast-room, where Ferdy was impatiently waiting for her. "Clarry, have you heard the news?" he asked, shaking a newspaper. "Don't call me that," said Clarice, coldly. "I have done with you, Ferdinand. You are not worthy13 to be my brother."
"Don't go on like that, Clarice," said the young man, struck to the heart by the stiff way in which she addressed him. "I'm in such trouble. That Osip will tell the police about my having the stamp, and then I'll be arrested."
"You deserve the worst that can befall you, Ferdinand. But Osip----"
"He's arrested, and Barras is dead."
Clarice sat down. How many more tragedies was she to hear of? Ferdy pointed14 out a sensational15 heading in the "Daily Planet." "See Jerce--have you heard, Clarry?--has been killed by Jane, and now Osip has killed Barras. Their crimes have come home to them."
"And your crimes ought to come home to you," cried Clarice, feeling sick with Ferdy's egotism. "You are--you are--but I can't say what you are. Your wickedness and weakness are beyond the power of language to express. How did Osip kill Mr. Barras?"
Ferdy grew sulky, and apparently16 regarded himself as a very ill-used person. "Osip went to Barras' office yesterday to get money out of him, and Barras kicked at the idea. Osip then murdered him, and rifled the safe with keys taken from Barras' pocket. He stamped the Purple Fern on Barras' forehead, and was cutting with the money, when someone came into the room. The alarm was given, and Osip fled down the street with everyone after him. A policeman caught him, and now he is in gaol17. And I dare say he'll give me away," lamented18 Ferdy, selfishly. "So hard on me, just when everything is settled nicely. Prudence has promised to marry me and--"
"Prudence?" cried Clarice, starting to her feet, and throwing down the "Daily Planet" which she was reading. "Does she know what you are?"
"Yes," said Ferdy, sulkily, "and she knows that I am not a bad sort either. Her brother was a murderer, so she says that I'm not so bad as he was; and Mr. Clarke thinks the same. But we don't want to stop in Crumel after we are married. Mr. Clarke says he will come with us to Australia. I think I shall like that," ended Ferdy, musingly19. "I hear it's a ripping climate."
Clarice looked at him helplessly. It seemed impossible to do anything with this blind fool. However, she made an attempt to frighten him.
"I suppose you forget that you may be arrested if Osip speaks?"
"Oh, Clarry, you must stop that," said Ferdy, imploringly20. "I know I'm not so good as I might be; but there are worse than I am--Jerce, for instance. Look what a bad----"
"Oh, be silent," said Clarice, in sheer despair, "and listen. You are in no danger of arrest. Do you know why I allowed Sir Daniel Jerce to leave yesterday after he had signed the confession21?"
"No, but I'm glad you did, as if he had been arrested he might have turned nasty."
"Quite so. Well, then, I received a letter when I went to meet Mr. Clarke in the hall. It was from Osip. He said that because I had been so brave in trying to save you by meeting him at the Shah's Rooms, and because I had not told the police about him, that he would acknowledge that he was guilty of Uncle Henry's death."
"No," said Ferdy, delighted. "What a good chap. But why----"
"Ugh!" said his sister, her teeth on edge with Ferdy's joy. "Osip can easily take a fifth murder on his conscience, since he will certainly be hanged for the other four. You can make yourself easy, Ferdinand; Osip will plead guilty to Jerce's crime, and as the police and the public already believe in his guilt22, no enquiries will be made. Sir Daniel Jerce's wickedness will never be discovered, nor--as I will not move in the matter--will the defalcations of Mr. Barras come to light. The world will say that two good men are gone, and Osip will be hanged, while poor Jane will be shot for having killed a villain who thoroughly23 deserved his doom24."
So Clarice spoke25, and after-events proved that she was a true prophetess. Jane was shot, Osip was hanged, keeping silence to the end, out of some odd admiration26 for her bravery in facing him, and the notices about Jerce and Barras were all that could be desired in the way of praising their good deeds and wonderful lives and amiable27 dispositions28. There was something ironical29 about the whole business, and not the least ironical part was that Ferdy should be happy, when he deserved punishment.
There was only one danger, namely, that Zara Dumps, sooner than lose Ferdy, might reveal what she knew, and thus re-open the business. But when Anthony came an hour later to see Clarice, he found her alone, and was enabled to set her mind at rest on this point.
"I am late," explained Anthony, when the two were seated on the old familiar sofa, "because I have been seeing Mrs. Dumps and her daughter."
"Is Zara in Crumel?"
"Yes. She came yesterday, as she is not acting30 just now. A new man to play the part of the Chrysalis has to be obtained, and Zara finds some difficulty in getting the person she wants. I have explained to her that she and her mother must hold their tongues unless Zara wants to get into trouble."
"In what way?" asked Clarice, quickly.
"Can you see? Zara could get into trouble for not having given the alarm when she saw Ferdy--as she thought--kill Horran. Then, again, the mere31 fact that Osip was in Zara's company is suspicious. I have made it clear that Ferdy is innocent, and that Jerce was guilty, and that now the doctor and Barras are dead, and Osip is arrested, the best thing will be for Zara to give up Ferdy and hold her tongue for her own sake and for her mother's."
"And what does she say?"
"She has agreed, and so has Mrs. Dumps. They will neither of them say a single word."
"But Mrs. Dumps has such a long tongue."
"About other people's affairs, but about her own she can be silent enough. You need have no fear, Clarice. The Purple Fern murders are at an end with the death of Barras."
"But it is strange, dearest, that Osip should act in this way towards me," said Clarice, who had explained the letter. Anthony agreed. "I can't understand the man's nature," he said, "except that we are told that everything evil has some good in it. I suppose he was touched by your devotion to Ferdy."
"I suppose he was," said Clarice, wearily. "But now, Anthony, you must see the new lawyer"--she gave him the name--"and arrange everything for me. Send Ferdy to Australia with Prudence. I never wish to see him again. I am so sick and tired, and ill--oh"--she put her arms round his neck, and placed her cheek against his--"I am ill--I am very, very ill."
And she was. Anthony had to carry her to her room, and there she lay for three weeks between life and death. Wentworth said that she had narrowly escaped an attack of brain fever. But the devotion of Mrs. Rebson brought her successfully back to health. Yet for weeks she was still weak, although out of danger, and Anthony would not allow her to talk of the past. She never asked for Ferdy, although the brother she had been devoted32 to never put in an appearance. Ackworth saw the new lawyer and arranged the affairs of the estate, and made all provisions for his marriage.
Six months later they were married very quietly in the parish church of Anthony's native town, and went for the honeymoon33 to Switzerland. There, one day, while sitting on the mountains above Les Avants, watching the grey peak of Jaman soaring into the cloudless summer sky, Clarice heard all that her husband knew about the conclusion of the troubles which had begun with the death of Horran.
"Ferdy is in Australia, as you know, darling," Said the lover-husband, "and is married to Prudence. Mr. Clarke writes me that Ferdy is behaving very well, and is studying for a doctor. Mr. Clarke himself has got a church up the country in Victoria. I think everything is right there."
"He is getting the five hundred a year, as you arranged, my dear. When he is twenty-five, of course, he will get the two thousand, and let us hope he will be more sensible."
"I hope so," sighed Mrs. Ackworth, "but Ferdy is a most extraordinary character. He never seems to think that he is in the wrong."
"Well, a wife like Prudence will keep him straight. Then Osip, as you know, is dead--"
"No! no!"--Clarice clung to her husband--"don't talk of such things in this place, Anthony. I never wish to hear the man's name again."
"I won't mention it," said Anthony, gravely. "But for your peace of mind, dear, I may tell you that he held his tongue to the last. Everyone thinks that Osip killed Horran, as he killed Barras, and Jerce is looked upon as a martyr34. Would you like me to read his obituary35 notices? I kept them."
"No! I don't wish to hear. But there are two things I should like to know," added Clarice, thoughtfully. "Firstly, how you fancied that you saw Uncle Henry at the Shah's Rooms?"
"Oh! Ferdy informed me that Barras masqueraded as his client, so as to deceive people into thinking that Mr. Horran was spending the money, and that his illness was a blind for profligacy36."
"Well, he is dead, so we'll forgive him."
"She made him tell her where he had put it," replied Anthony; "you know how weak Ferdy was."
Clarice sighed: "It is weak people who usually get into trouble," she said, "and know no escape. Has Zara held her tongue?"
"Yes, and they say--the Press says, I mean--that she is going to marry a wealthy American. For her own sake she will be silent. I don't think we need worry any more about that past."
"I am glad of that, Anthony. It is more pleasant to look forward to a bright and quiet future. But I still worry about Ferdy. After all, he is my twin brother, you know."
"Don't trouble about him, sweetest. He is not worth it, and you may be sure that he never gives you a thought."
"Well," said Mrs. Ackworth, gravely, "I don't know that I mind. I have you, and you are my world. But there's only one thing, Anthony--I'll never wear purple, however fashionable it may become."
Ackworth laughed at this truly feminine speech. "And you will never look at this again?" he said, teasingly, picking a fern.
"Ugh!" said Clarice, and, catching39 it from his hand, she flung it down on the sunny grass. "There--the past is gone with that."
"The Purple Fern has gone with the green fern," said Anthony. "Well, let it go, darling heart. You and I are together----"
"For ever and ever and ever," said Clarice, nestling in his arms.
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1
untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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3
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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4
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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5
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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6
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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7
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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8
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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9
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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screeched
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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11
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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13
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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16
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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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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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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dispositions
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| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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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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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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32
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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33
honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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34
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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35
obituary
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| n.讣告，死亡公告；adj.死亡的 | |
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profligacy
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| n.放荡，不检点，肆意挥霍 | |
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37
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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38
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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piously
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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