Two days later Thornton Lyne sat in his big limousine1 which was drawn2 up on the edge of Wandsworth Common, facing the gates of the gaol3.
Poet and _poseur_ he was, the strangest combination ever seen in man.
Thornton Lyne was a store-keeper, a Bachelor of Arts, the winner of the Mangate Science Prize and the author of a slim volume. The quality of the poetry therein was not very great--but it was undoubtedly4 a slim volume printed in queerly ornate type with old-fashioned esses and wide margins5. He was a store-keeper because store-keeping supplied him with caviare and peaches, a handsome little two-seater, a six-cylinder limousine for state occasions, a country house and a flat in town, the decorations of which ran to a figure which would have purchased many stores of humbler pretensions6 than Lyne's Serve First Emporium.
To the elder Lyne, Joseph Emanuel of that family, the inception7 and prosperity of Lyne's Serve First Emporium was due. He had devised a sale system which ensured every customer being attended to the moment he or she entered one of the many departments which made up the splendid whole of the emporium. It was a system based upon the age-old principle of keeping efficient reserves within call.
Thornton Lyne succeeded to the business at a moment when his slim volume had placed him in the category of the gloriously misunderstood. Because such reviewers as had noticed his book wrote of his "poetry" using inverted8 commas to advertise their scorn, and because nobody bought the volume despite its slimness, he became the idol9 of men and women who also wrote that which nobody read, and in consequence developed souls with the celerity that a small boy develops stomachache.
For nothing in the wide world was more certain to the gloriously misunderstood than this: the test of excellence10 is scorn. Thornton Lyne might in different circumstances have drifted upward to sets even more misunderstood--yea, even to a set superior to marriage and soap and clean shirts and fresh air--only his father died of a surfeit11, and Thornton became the Lyne of Lyne's Serve First.
His first inclination12 was to sell the property and retire to a villa13 in Florence or Capri. Then the absurdity14, the rich humour of an idea, struck him. He, a scholar, a gentleman and a misunderstood poet, sitting in the office of a store, appealed to him. Somebody remarked in his hearing that the idea was "rich." He saw himself in "character" and the part appealed to him. To everybody's surprise he took up his father's work, which meant that he signed cheques, collected profits and left the management to the Soults and the Neys whom old Napoleon Lyne had relied upon in the foundation of his empire.
Thornton wrote an address to his 3,000 employees--which address was printed on decided15 antique paper in queerly ornate type with wide margins. He quoted Seneca, Aristotle, Marcus Aurelius and the "Iliad." The "address" secured better and longer reviews in the newspapers than had his book.
He had found life a pleasant experience--all the more piquant16 because of the amazement17 of innumerable ecstatic friends who clasped their hands and asked awefully: "How _can_ you--a man of your temperament18...!"
Life might have gone on being pleasant if every man and woman he had met had let him have his own way. Only there were at least two people with whom Thornton Lyne's millions carried no weight.
It was warm in his limousine, which was electrically heated. But outside, on that raw April morning, it was bitterly cold, and the shivering little group of women who stood at a respectful distance from the prison gates, drew their shawls tightly about them as errant flakes19 of snow whirled across the open. The common was covered with a white powder, and the early flowers looked supremely20 miserable21 in their wintry setting.
The prison clock struck eight, and a wicket-gate opened. A man slouched out, his jacket buttoned up to his neck, his cap pulled over his eyes. At sight of him, Lyne dropped the newspaper he had been reading, opened the door of the car and jumped out, walking towards the released prisoner.
"Well, Sam," he said, genially22 "you didn't expect me?"
The man stopped as if he had been shot, and stood staring at the fur-coated figure. Then:
"Oh, Mr. Lyne," he said brokenly. "Oh, guv'nor!" he choked, and tears streamed down his face, and he gripped the outstretched hand in both of his, unable to speak.
"You didn't think I'd desert you, Sam, eh?" said Mr. Lyne, all aglow23 with consciousness of his virtue24.
"I thought you'd given me up, sir," said Sam Stay huskily. "You're a gentleman, you are, sir, and I ought to be ashamed of myself!"
"Nonsense, nonsense, Sam! Jump into the car, my lad. Go along. People will think you're a millionaire."
The man gulped25, grinned sheepishly, opened the door and stepped in, and sank with a sigh of comfort into the luxurious26 depths of the big brown cushions.
"Gawd! To think that there are men like you in the world, sir! Why, I believe in angels, I do!"
"Nonsense Sam. Now you come along to my flat, and I'm going to give you a good breakfast and start you fair again."
"I'm going to try and keep straight, sir, I am s'help me!"
It may be said in truth that Mr. Lyne did not care very much whether Sam kept straight or not. He might indeed have been very much disappointed if Sam had kept to the straight and narrow path. He "kept" Sam as men keep chickens and prize cows, and he "collected" Sam as other men collect stamps and china. Sam was his luxury and his pose. In his club he boasted of his acquaintance with this representative of the criminal classes--for Sam was an expert burglar and knew no other trade--and Sam's adoration27 for him was one of his most exhilarating experiences.
And that adoration was genuine. Sam would have laid down his life for the pale-faced man with the loose mouth. He would have suffered himself to be torn limb from limb if in his agony he could have brought ease or advancement28 to the man who, to him, was one with the gods.
Originally, Thornton Lyne had found Sam whilst that artist was engaged in burgling the house of his future benefactor29. It was a whim30 of Lyne's to give the criminal a good breakfast and to evince an interest in his future. Twice had Sam gone down for a short term, and once for a long term of imprisonment31, and on each occasion Thornton Lyne had made a parade of collecting the returned wanderer, driving him home, giving him breakfast and a great deal of worldly and unnecessary advice, and launching him forth32 again upon the world with ten pounds--a sum just sufficient to buy Sam a new kit33 of burglar's tools.
Never before had Sam shown such gratitude34; and never before had Thornton Lyne been less disinterested35 in his attentions. There was a hot bath--which Sam Stay could have dispensed36 with, but which, out of sheer politeness, he was compelled to accept, a warm and luxurious breakfast; a new suit of clothes, with not two, but four, five-pound notes in the pocket.
After breakfast, Lyne had his talk.
"It's no good, sir," said the burglar, shaking his head. "I've tried everything to get an honest living, but somehow I can't get on in the straight life. I drove a taxicab for three months after I came out, till a busy-fellow[A] tumbled to me not having a license37, and brought me up under the Prevention of Crimes Act. It's no use my asking you to give me a job in your shop, sir, because I couldn't stick it, I couldn't really! I'm used to the open air life; I like being my own master. I'm one of those fellows you've read about--the word begins with A."
[Footnote A: Detective.]
"Adventurers?" said Lyne with a little laugh. "Yes, I think you are, Sam, and I'm going to give you an adventure after your own heart."
And then he began to tell a tale of base ingratitude--of a girl he had helped, had indeed saved from starvation and who had betrayed him at every turn. Thornton Lyne was a poet. He was also a picturesque38 liar39. The lie came as easily as the truth, and easier, since there was a certain crudeness about truth which revolted his artistic40 soul. And as the tale was unfolded of Odette Rider's perfidy41, Sam's eyes narrowed. There was nothing too bad for such a creature as this. She was wholly undeserving of sympathy.
Presently Thornton Lyne stopped, his eyes fixed42 on the other to note the effect.
"Show me," said Sam, his voice trembling. "Show me a way of getting even with her, sir, and I'll go through hell to do it!"
"That's the kind of stuff I like to hear," said Lyne, and poured out from the long bottle which stood on the coffee-tray a stiff tot of Sam's favourite brandy. "Now, I'll give you my idea."
For the rest of the morning the two men sat almost head to head, plotting woe43 for the girl, whose chief offence had been against the dignity of Thornton Lyne, and whose virtue had incited44 the hate of that vicious man.
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limousine
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| n.豪华轿车 | |
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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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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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margins
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| 边( margin的名词复数 )； 利润； 页边空白； 差数 | |
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pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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inception
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| n.开端，开始，取得学位 | |
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inverted
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| adj.反向的，倒转的v.使倒置，使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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surfeit
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| v.使饮食过度；n.(食物)过量，过度 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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advancement
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| n.前进，促进，提升 | |
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benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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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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perfidy
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| n.背信弃义，不忠贞 | |
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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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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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incited
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| 刺激，激励，煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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