"Ah! pardon, but no," replied Catinka, vivaciously1. "Mr. Herne--this good man--he was at your Barnstead; but he does not require one to speak of it. So he requests me."
"You have seen Herne?" cried Mexton, recalling the fact that the Squire2 was in town at that moment.
"Eh--why not? I see him yesterday; I see him this morning; and he ask me to say nothing of his veesit to Barnstead on that night. But I no promise; I have good reason to no promise."
"What reason?" asked the journalist, bewildered by her manner.
Before replying, Catinka sprang lightly from her seat, and caught up the fan of rainbow feathers from off the mantelpiece. "My reason, dear Mr. Critic? Behold3 it!"
"Ah! then your reason has to do with your society?"
"Oh, yes; it has all to do with that," said Catinka, shutting the fan composedly. "I will to you explain all, if you wish."
"Of course I wish, mademoiselle. I wish to find out who killed that poor girl."
Catinka shook her head gravely, and resumed her seat. "That thing I cannot say."
"But you were on the very spot where the murder took place."
"Yes," she admitted; "there I was. How you know?"
"By the rainbow feather you dropped."
"Pardon--it is wrong. I did not let fall the feather. I place him there for my reason."
"Place him where?" asked Mexton, adopting her grammatical error in his bewilderment.
"On the breast--oh, no--on the back of that dead lady."
"Yes; I saw him."
"Then you know who killed the girl?"
"No; that I know not."
"Did Mr. Herne shoot Miss Lester?" asked Paul, determined5 to get a direct answer.
"I cannot say truly. I did not see."
"Did you fire the shot yourself."
"I?" Catinka flashed a fiery6 glance at her questioner. "But what is this you would say? I did nothing to that lady. I killed her not. No! I swear it is so by all the saints!"
"But you know so much that----"
"What I know you will be told," interrupted Catinka, "that is, my good sir, if you this moment will be silent and wait."
"I am quite at your disposal, mademoiselle," said Paul, and composed himself to listen to what could not fail to be an interesting and strange story.
"Good! that is so right," said Catinka, and resumed her seat. The light of the sun poured in through the high window, and enveloped7 the violinist in a haze8 of golden glory, so that she had to spread out the particoloured fan in order to shade her eyes from the glare. But she did not move out of that pool of heat and light, for it seemed to please her greatly, and she basked9 in the ardent10 rays like a cat. Paul never forgot that scene; the cheerful room, the bright sunshine, and the pretty woman who glowed and sparkled with southern vivacity11 in the radiance. She told a strange story, truly, and told it in the calmest of voices, so that long before she finished Paul concluded that Baldini was right when he declared Catinka had no heart. Here it will be best to set forth12 the tale in other words than her own, since her phraseology was foreign, and not always correct. The substance of what she related was as follows:--
"For you to understand what I tell you," she began slowly, "you must learn who I am and what are my aims. I have no reason to keep my desire secret in this free England of yours; but in Poland, in Russia--ah! there it would be a different matter. My name is Catinka Poluski, and I was born at Warsaw some twenty-five years ago. I am of a noble family, and my parents were much hated by the Russians for their patriotic13 desire to see a free Poland. They conspired14 against the tyrant15 Czar when I was but a child, and being discovered they were arrested and sent to Siberia--sent there without a trial, to their doom16! Ah! God! why dost Thou permit such evils to befall noble hearts."
"Are your parents still alive?" asked Paul when she ceased for a moment, to conquer her emotion.
"Dead, Mr. Mexton," replied Catinka, in a low voice, "dead these many years. I was left alone in the world, to the care of an old servant. Our estates were confiscated17 by the tyrant, and there remained nothing to me but poverty and shame, and a heritage of hatred18 against those who sent the noble Poluski and his wife to their graves in cruel Siberia, but that Luzk saved me."
"The servant I spoke20 of," said Catinka, with emotion, "the faithful man who looked after me when I was a helpless orphan21. He came from the town of Luzk, and took the name, for some reason connected with the troubles of our unhappy land. It was Luzk who worked for me, who clothed and fed me, and had me educated. By him I was taught the violin, for which I had always a great love, and I soon was able to play very well."
"You play like an angel!" said Paul, with enthusiasm.
"I did not know angels played on fiddles22!" replied the girl, smiling. "However, I thank you for the compliment. It is fortunate that I play well, for when Luzk died, seven years ago, I had no one to look after me. I thought I should starve, as my name was proscribed23, and no one dared to help the child of Poluski, the rebel. Then a French musician heard me playing in the streets of Warsaw--yes, you may look, Mr. Mexton, but I, Catinka Poluski, of the best blood in Poland, have played in the streets. This man--his name was Dubourg--heard me, and took me into his care. He was old, and a very fine player on the violin. I received lessons from him for many months, and then we went to Paris, where I appeared. I made a name, and so I was able to earn an income. I stayed in Paris for a long time. Then good Papa Dubourg died, and I no longer cared to remain. I came to London; I played; I was liked; and now, as you know, I can earn as much money as I want by my talent. It is not an ignoble24 profession," said Catinka, "and I do not think the dead Poluski race need be ashamed of their descendant."
"I should think not, indeed, mademoiselle?" cried Paul. "You have overcome your difficulties in a noble manner. But this," he added, "does not touch on your society."
"I am coming to that," said Catinka, with a nod; "but, as I told you, it was necessary for your understanding that I should begin from the beginning. Well, Mr. Mexton, when I found myself at ease in London, I determined to do what I could to aid my unhappy country to be free. As a child of the Poluski I was bound to revenge my parents and free Poland. Then in my brain there arose the idea of the Society of the Rainbow Feather."
"Is the name symbolical25?" asked Paul, glancing at the fan, which she still held.
"Yes." Catinka spread out the fan before him. "This is made of feathers--a sign that we shall rise, since birds that fly wear plumage. The feathers are dyed red, blue, green and yellow, which are symbolic26 colours. Red for the war we must wage to free our land; blue is a sign of the peace which will follow the war; green, the colour of hope which we need to inspire us; and yellow for the wealth we require to further our plans."
"I see," said Paul, coolly; "yellow stands for Darcy Herne, whose wealth you need."
"Precisely," replied Catinka calmly. "You are very clever, my dear Mr. Mexton, to guess so well as that. Do you think I am in love with Mr. Herne?--by no means, sir! It is his money-bags I want. I have but one heart and that is for no man; the love which fills it is the love of Poland--of my crushed and fallen country. The saints grant that it may be my hand to raise it from the dust!"
"Not an easy task," said Mexton, with a discouraging glance.
"Great tasks are never easy," declared Catinka, with the fire of heroism27 in her eyes; "but do you not think I had better go on with my story?"
"I should be obliged, mademoiselle. Remember, we have not got yet to the part which will interest me most."
"It is coming," said the violinist. "Well, Mr. Mexton, I formed my society, as I say, with the Rainbow Feather as a symbol of its meaning. My first recruits were exiled Poles and Russians, who had all the will, but none of the power, to harm the tyrant."
"The Czar?"
"I call him the tyrant. But these recruits had no money, and without money I could not hope to forward the cause. Then God, who is against oppression, sent in my way Mr. Herne. I met him--well, never mind how; but he became acquainted with me, and he came to the meetings of my society, in this very room. I found out that he had all sympathy with the oppressed, and so he was willing to aid me to lift the foreign yoke28 from the necks of my countrymen. I looked on him as my own, as a man vowed29 to my service, until I learnt from Mr. Lovel that he was engaged to be married."
"Do you know Mr. Lovel?"
"Very well," replied Catinka quietly. "I have known him for two years, and he feigned30 to be in love with me. But it was only a passing fancy, and he left London, to fall in love with your Milly Lester. But Herne was engaged to that lady, and out of jealousy31 Lovel told me of the engagement. I was angry, for I thought that she would lead Mr. Herne away from me, and that his money and his enthusiasm would be lost to the cause. Later on Mr. Herne received letters from your Barnstead, which assured him that Miss Lester was flirting32 and making play, as you may say, with Mr. Lovel. He grew jealous, and the day before the murder, when he received a letter stating that Miss Lester was to meet Mr. Lovel, he determined to go down for himself and see if she was faithless."
"Who wrote those letters?" asked Paul, eagerly.
"I cannot tell you that," replied the Pole, shaking her head. "They were scribbled33 on very dirty paper, and in an illegible34 hand--at least, almost illegible. I saw only two."
"Did Mr. Herne know who wrote them?"
"He told me he had no idea," said Catinka, cautiously; "but this I know not. They were sent to his town address in Berkeley Square."
"Yes; I know he has a house there," said Paul, in thoughtful tones. "How came you to see those letters, Catinka?"
"Mr. Herne showed the last two to me when I reproached him with leaving London instead of attending to a meeting of our society. He said that he must go down on that Sunday night and assure himself that the reports were false."
"Did he believe them?"
"I think he did," said Catinka, promptly35. "He said that Miss Lester was young and thoughtless, and might be led astray by the evil mind of Mr. Lovel. He wanted to save her from destruction, and talked in quite a religious way about her."
"By the train at four o'clock in the afternoon. I followed."
"Why did you follow?"
"Because I desired to see this girl," replied Catinka, coolly. "You see, Mr. Mexton, I did not wish to lose Mr. Herne, because I wanted his money for my society; so I thought I would see what this girl was like--if she was as lovely as he declared her to be. And again, I wished to see Mr. Lovel, and get him to marry the girl, so that I could have this dear Herne to myself."
"But you were not in love with Herne!"
"No; but to secure him and his money to my cause, I would have married him. I quite intended to do so, and went to Barnstead that I might behold my rival; to see, you understand, if I had much to fear from her."
"Did you go down by the same train?"
"Oh, yes; at four o'clock. I was in a third-class carriage, Mr. Herne in a first. He did not see me. We got to Marborough a little after five. Then I lost him; but as I knew he was going to Barnstead that was no matter. I hired a carriage and drove over to Barnstead, where I had dinner in that hotel called after Mr. Herne."
"The Herne Arms."
"Yes. They gave me a bad dinner," said Catinka, making a face. "After that I went to church, where I thought I might see the girl. I did see her."
"How did you know her?"
"She was pointed37 out to me when I asked a lady who sat near me. I saw Mr. Lovel look at her also. She was beautiful, but foolish, I saw her leave the church, but I waited till the end of the service, and then I went out after Mr. Lovel, as I desired to speak with him."
"Did you?"
"No. I could not find him when I went out, and as I did not know your village I was not aware where to go. I wandered about, and quite lost myself for a long time. When I was on a wide plain I heard a shot, and I ran forward into a wood to see what was the matter. It took me some time to find the place where the shot had been fired; but when I did find it, no living person was there."
"But a dead body was?"
"Yes," assented38 Catinka--"the body of Miss Lester, whom I had seen in church. I was alarmed, and thought that I might get into trouble if I were found with the dead body. I do not know your laws, so I ran away. But before I went," said the Pole, with emphasis, "I placed on the body--it was lying face downward--the symbol of my society, a rainbow feather."
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收听单词发音
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1
vivaciously
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| adv.快活地；活泼地；愉快地 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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9
basked
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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10
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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11
vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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14
conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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15
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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17
confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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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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21
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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fiddles
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| n.小提琴( fiddle的名词复数 )；欺诈；（需要运用手指功夫的）细巧活动；当第二把手v.伪造( fiddle的第三人称单数 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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23
proscribed
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| v.正式宣布（某事物）有危险或被禁止( proscribe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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symbolical
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| a.象征性的 | |
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symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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28
yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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32
flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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33
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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illegible
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| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
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35
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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36
fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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38
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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