Mayfield's face was grim and set; there was just a flash of contempt in his eyes for Speed, who was breathing hard. The dramatic part of the situation was lost on Mr. George Dashwood, who could think of nothing else beyond the speculative1 possibilities that Mayfield had been holding out to him.
"You don't seem to be any better," Mayfield said to Speed. "you look ghastly. Anybody would think that you had been caught in some crime."
Behind the contemptuous words there was a note of warning to Speed. Anybody less blind than George Dashwood would have noticed how agitated2 he was. Speed caught just a glimpse of his own features in a quaint3 old mirror over the fireplace. He could see that he was green and grey by turns; he started at his own haggard face. Small wonder, then, that Mayfield had given him a warning.
"I'm feeling like a corpse," he said. "It's agony for me to sit up any longer. If you don't mind, I think I'll go to bed."
"Why not try the fresh air?" Dashwood suggested. "It is a cure sometimes."
"Drizzling4 with rain," Speed replied. "Darnley turned up the collar of his overcoat as he passed the window. I could see him from behind the screen. On the whole, I should be far better between the sheets."
"Perhaps it would be as well," he said; "if you feel as seedy as that. I must not be long, either, as I have to leave pretty early tomorrow. I'll just finish my discussion with Mr. Dashwood over a cigar, and then I'll follow your example. I suppose the butler comes around and fastens up all the windows?"
"The rest of the house," Speed explained. "I generally fasten the windows here myself. I'll leave you to do it tonight, Mayfield. Don't forget. One never knows what sort of person is hanging about a house like this."
Speed crept out of the room and across the hall, on the way to his room. He was shaking from head to foot still and his legs were hardly equal to his weight. He lighted a candle with a trembling hand, taking several matches to do so. Out of the shadow came Slight, who watched his master with a curious expression.
"Perhaps you will permit me to do that for you, sir?" he suggested politely.
"Go away," Speed cried. "Go to bed. Think that I'm too drunk to light a candle? Why do you follow me like this? Send my man to me. Gone to Longtown for the night, has he? Oh, I recollect6 giving him permission now."
Speed staggered up the stairs, and into his own room. Once there, he opened a cupboard and produced therefrom a bottle of brandy. He poured out half a tumbler and drank it greedily. He placed his hands over his eyes as if to hide some horrible vision. He was free now to give way to his feelings; he was no longer under observation. He would have given ten years of his life to recall the last half hour.
He sat there, gazing into space and making no effort to remove his clothes. An hour passed; then there was a tap on the door. Speed started violently; he was half afraid that the arm of the law was groping for him already. His face cleared a little as Mayfield came in and closed the door very carefully.
"Well?" the latter said. "Are you getting over it? I'm more than sorry I started this little business. If Dashwood had had any power of observation he would have seen that there was something worse than illness the matter with you tonight."
"It was awful," Speed groaned7. "you would feel just the same if you'd done it. All the time I was pretending to be ill behind the screen, I was standing9 by the open window. I heard Darnley say goodnight to you. I stood with the loaded stick in my hand. And as he passed by the window under the veranda10 I struck him down. . . . He fell stone dead without a single groan8. He lay there absolutely still. And I would have forfeited11 all I had to recall those last few moments. If you could have seen his face----"
"Oh, never mind that," Mayfield said brutally12. "The thing is done and there is an end of it. And you know perfectly13 well that you would do the same thing again tomorrow. So he lies there in the verandah, does he? What about the stick?"
"The stick is hidden in the laurel bushes. We can burn that when there is time."
"To-night. Our work is not finished. Darnley must not lie there. We shall have to carry him as far as the drive. It is a bit risky14, but the thing must be done. Everybody has gone to bed now. Dashwood and old Slight can testify that neither of us have been out of the house since dinner time, so we are quite safe."
"Let him lie where he is," Speed whispered, with chattering15 teeth. "People will think that he came back for something after we had gone to bed, and that he had encounter with some prowling burglar. That's just as good as your plan."
"No, it isn't," Mayfield said impatiently. "Mine is much more artistic16 and reasonable. We have saved our own necks; now we want to put suspicion upon somebody outside. We've got to carry the body of Ralph Darnley as far as the avenue; we've got to turn out his pockets as if he had been robbed. We can bury what he has on him and destroy the loaded stick at the same time. Everybody has gone to bed. Come along."
Speed protested and groaned. But it was all the same to Mayfield. He contemptuously indicated the brandy bottle, and suggested that Speed should derive17 a little fleeting18 courage from it. Another strong dose and Speed declared himself to be ready.
They crept down into the hall and from thence into the darkened dining-room. In the hall Speed hastily snatched a big Inverness cape19 from the stand. His intention was obvious. He wanted to throw this over the body. . . . It lay there quite still under the shelter of the verandah; outside the rain was gently pattering on the grass. With half averted20 head, Speed flung the cloak over the still black form.
He was heedless of the rain; both were heedless of the rain by this time. It was not a tiring work, for the night was warm, and Mayfield had caught a little of Speed's nervous excitement. He did not notice that it was raining at all. They staggered on for some five hundred yards along the avenue. Speed declared that he could not go any farther.
"This will do," he panted in a hoarse21 whisper. "Under the oak tree. It's just the very spot where a man would stop to light a cigar. You do the rest, Mayfield."
Mayfield did the rest cautiously enough. It was the dark before dawn; the birds were not yet awake. A rabbit dashed across the road, and Speed started. Mayfield was only at work a moment; it seemed like ages to Speed. They stole quietly back to the house without meeting anybody; they gained the dining room at length. It was just as they had left it, nothing to show that anybody had been there. Then they were back once more in Speed's bedroom.
"I must have some more brandy," he said. "I believe I could drink the bottle. You are not looking quite so cool and self-possessed as usual, Mayfield. Take a drop."
"I hate the stuff," Mayfield growled22. "All the same, I don't mind confessing that I am just a little bit shaky. I could do it with some whisky. I suppose I could find a decanter of it on the sideboard?"
"Always there," Speed explained. "There must have been some rain when we were out, for my coat is quite damp. So is yours. Better take it off."
Mayfield peeled off his dress coat carelessly. He took the candle and proceeded to make his way down the stairs once more. Surely enough the big glass bottle of whisky stood on the side-board. Mayfield helped himself liberally, and filled up the glass with a spurt23 of soda24 from a syphon. Somebody behind him coughed.
"It's only me, sir," the thin respectful voice of Slight said. "I've got a touch of neuralgia, and couldn't sleep, sir. And just now it seemed to me that I heard somebody about. Got the idea of burglars into my head, sir."
"Oh, that's all right," Mayfield said with a suggestion of relief in his tone. "I couldn't sleep either, so I came down for a drink."
Slight bowed respectfully. But his old eyes had not overlooked the fact that little beads25 of wet glistened26 on Mayfield's trousers, and that his dress shoes were spotted27 with mud. Very silently and respectfully he crept away up the back stairs, and so to the room of one of the menservants--a young protégé of his. He was sleeping soundly enough as Slight laid a hand on his shoulder. He struggled to a sitting posture28.
"Mr. Slight," he said sleepily. "What is the matter? Is the house on fire? Why you do look serious! What is the matter?"
"I don't know," Slight replied. "It may be murder for all I know. And I thought that I was too clever for those two chaps. Get up and dress yourself, Walters. As soon as ever it is light we've got something to do. Don't sit there asking a lot of foolish questions. How did they manage it when he went so early?"
"I dare say you think I am talking nonsense," he said. "Nothing of the kind, my lad. Just put your clothes on and come as far as my room. If anything has happened to that bonny lad of mine, I'll never forgive myself."
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1
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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drizzling
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| 下蒙蒙细雨，下毛毛雨( drizzle的现在分词 ) | |
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5
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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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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7
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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9
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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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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13
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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14
risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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15
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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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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