“When are you going to Judge Ostrander’s?”
“To-morrow. This is my last free day. So if there is anything for me to do, do tell me, Mr. Black, and let me get to work at once.”
“There is nothing you can do. The matter is hopeless.”
“You think so?”
There was misery1 in the tone, but the seasoned old lawyer, who had conducted her husband’s defence, did not allow his sympathies to run away with his judgment2.
“I certainly do, madam. I told you so the other night, and now, after a couple of days of thought on the subject, I am obliged to repeat my assertion. Your own convictions in the matter, and your story of the shadow and the peaked cap may appeal to the public and assure you some sympathy, but for an entire reversal of its opinion you will need substantial and incontrovertible evidence. You must remember — you will pardon my frankness — that your husband’s character failed to stand the test of inquiry3. His principles were slack, his temper violent. You have suffered from both and must know. A poor foundation I found it for his defence; and a poor one you will find it for that reversal of public opinion upon which you count, without very strong proof that the crime for which he was punished was committed by another man. You think you have such proof, but it is meagre, very meagre. Find me something definite to go upon and we will talk.”
“Discouragement; discouragement everywhere,” she complained. “Yet I know John to have been innocent of this crime.”
The lawyer raised his brows, and toyed impatiently with his watch~chain. If her convictions found any echo in his own mind, he gave no evidence of it. Doubtfully she eyed him.
“What you want,” she observed at length, with a sigh, “is the name of the man who sauntered down the ravine ahead of my husband. I cannot give it to you now, but I do not despair of learning it.”
“Twelve years ago, madam; twelve years ago.”
“I know; but I have too much confidence in my cause to be daunted4 even by so serious an obstacle as that. I shall yet put my finger on this man. But I do not say that it will be immediately. I have got to renew old acquaintances; revive old gossip; possibly, recall to life almost obliterated6 memories.”
Mr. Black, dropping his hand from his vest, gave her his first look of unqualified admiration8.
“You ring true,” said he. “I have met men qualified7 to lead a Forlorn Hope; but never before a woman. Allow me to express my regret that it is such a forlorn one.” Then, with a twinkle in his eye which bespoke9 a lighter11 mood, he remarked in a curiously12 casual tone.
“Talking of gossip, there is but one person in town who is a complete repository of all that is said or known this side of Colchester.” (The next town.) “I never knew her to forget anything; and I never knew her to be very far from the truth. She lives near Judge Ostrander — a quaint5 little body, not uninteresting to talk to; a regular character, in fact. Do you know what they say about her house? That everything on God’s earth can be found in it. That you’ve but to name an object, and she will produce it. She’s had strange opportunities for collecting odds13 and ends, and she’s never neglected one of them. Yet her house is but a box. Miss Weeks is her name.”
“I will remember it.”
Mrs. Scoville rose. Then she sat down again, with the remark:
“I have a strange notion. It’s a hard thing to explain and you may not understand me, but I should like to see, if it still exists, the stick — my husband’s stick — with which this crime was committed. Do the police retain such things? Is there any possibility of my finding it laid away in some drawer at Headquarters or on some dusty shelf?”
Mr. Black was again astonished. Was this callousness14 or a very deep and determined15 purpose.
“I don’t know. I never go pottering about at Headquarters. What do you want to see that for? What help can you get out of that?”
“None probably; but in the presence of defeat you grasp at every hope. I dreamt of that stick last night. I was in an awful wilderness16, all rocks, terrific gorges17 and cloud-covered, unassailable peaks. A light — one ray and one only — shone on me through the darkness. Towards this ray I was driven through great gaps in the yawning rocks and along narrow galleries sloping above an unfathomable abyss. Hope lay beyond, rescue, light. But a wall reared its black length between. I came upon it suddenly; a barrier mighty19 and impenetrable with its ends lost in obscurity. And the ray! the one long beam! It was still there. It shone directly upon me from an opening in this wall. It marked a gate,— a gate for which I only lacked the key. Where should I find one to fit a lock so gigantic! Nowhere! unless the something which I held — which had been in my hands from the first — would be found to move its stubborn wards18. I tried it and it did! it did! I hear the squeak20 of those tremendous hinges now, and — Mr. Black, you must have guessed what that something was. My husband’s stick! the bludgeon with whose shape I was so familiar twelve years ago! It is that and that only which will lead us to the light. Of this I feel quite sure.”
A short and ironical22 grunt23 answered her. Mr. Black was not always the pink of politeness even in the presence of ladies.
“Most interesting,” he commented sarcastically24. “The squeak you heard was probably the protest of the bed you were reclining on against such a misuse25 of the opportunities it offered you. A dream listened to as evidence in this office! You must have a woman’s idea of the value of my time.”
Flushing with discomfiture26, she attempted to apologise, when he cut her short. “Nevertheless, you shall see the stick if it is still to be found. I will take you to Police Headquarters if you will go heavily veiled. We don’t want any recognition of you there YET.”
“You will take me —”
“The fact that I never go there may make my visit not unwelcome. I’ll do it; yes, I’ll do it.”
“Mr. Black, you are very good. How soon —”
“Now,” he announced, jumping up to get his hat. “A woman who can take up a man’s time, with poetry and dreams, might as well have the whole afternoon. Are you ready? Shall we go?”
All alacrity27, in spite of the irony28 of his bow and smile, he stood at the door waiting for her to follow him. This she did slowly and with manifest hesitation29. She did not understand the man. People often said of her that she did not understand her own charm.
There was one little fact of which Mr. Black was ignorant;— that the police had had their eye on the veiled lady at Claymore Inn for several days now and knew who his companion was the instant they stepped into Headquarters. In vain his plausible30 excuses for showing his lady friend the curiosities of the place; her interest in the details of criminology was well understood by Sergeant31 Doolittle, though of course he had not sounded its full depths, and could not know from any one but Judge Ostrander himself, her grave reasons for steeping her mind again in the horrors of her husband’s long-since expiated32 crime. And Judge Ostrander was the last man who would be likely to give him this information.
Therefore, when he saw the small, mocking eye of the lawyer begin to roam over the shelves, and beheld33 his jaw34 drop as it sometimes did when he sought to veil his purpose in an air of mild preoccupation, he knew what the next request would be, as well as if the low sounds which left Mr. Black’s lips at intervals35 had been words instead of inarticulate grunts36. He was, therefore, prepared when the question did come.
“Any memorial of the Etheridge case?”
“Nothing but a stick with blood-marks on it. That, I’m afraid, wouldn’t be a very agreeable sight for a lady’s eye.”
“She’s proof,” the lawyer whispered in the officer’s ear. “Let’s see the stick.”
The sergeant considered this a very interesting experience — quite a jolly break in the dull monotony of the day. Hunting up the stick, he laid it in the lawyer’s hands, and then turned his eye upon the lady.
She had gone pale, but it took her but an instant to regain37 her equanimity38 and hold out her own hand for the weapon.
With what purpose? What did she expect to see in it which others had not seen many times? She did not know, herself. She was simply following an impulse, just as she had felt herself borne on by some irresistible39 force in her dream. And so, the three stood there, the men’s faces ironic21, inquisitive40, wondering at the woman’s phlegm if not at her motive41; hers, hidden behind her veil, but bent42 forward over the weapon in an attitude of devouring43 interest. Thus for a long, slow minute; then she impulsively44 raised her head and, beckoning45 the two men nearer, she directed attention to a splintered portion of the handle and asked them what they saw there.
“Nothing; just stick,” declared the sergeant. “The marks you are looking for are higher up.”
“And you, Mr. Black?”
He saw nothing either but stick. But he was little less abrupt46 in his answer.
“Do you mean those roughnesses?” he asked. “That’s where the stick was whittled47. You remember that he had been whittling48 at the stick —”
“Who?”
The word shot from her lips so violently that for a moment both men looked staggered by it. Then Mr. Black, with unaccustomed forbearance, answered gently enough:
“Why, Scoville, madam; or so the prosecution49 congratulated itself upon having proved to the jury’s satisfaction. It did not tally50 with Scoville’s story or with common sense I know. You remember,— pardon me,— I mean that any one who read a report of the case, will remember how I handled the matter in my speech. But the prejudice in favour of the prosecution — I will not say against the defence — was too much for me, and common sense, the defendant’s declarations, and my eloquence51 all went for nothing.”
“Of course they produced the knife?”
“Yes, they produced the knife.”
“It was in his pocket?”
“Yes.”
“Have they that here?”
“No, we haven’t that here.”
“But you remember it?”
“Remember it?”
“Was it a new knife, a whole one, I mean, with all its blades sharp and in good order?”
“Yes. I can say that. I handled it several times.”
“Then, whose blade left that?” And again she pointed52 to the same place on the stick where her finger had fallen before.
“I don’t know what you mean.” The sergeant looked puzzled. Perhaps, his eyesight was not very keen.
“Have you a magnifying-glass? There is something embedded53 in this wood. Try and find out what it is.”
The sergeant, with a queer look at Mr. Black, who returned it with interest, went for a glass, and when he had used it, the stare he gave the heavily veiled woman drove Mr. Black to reach out his own hand for the glass.
“Well,” he burst forth54, after a prolonged scrutiny55, “there is something there.”
“The point of a knife blade. The extreme point,” she emphasised. “It might easily escape the observation even of the most critical, without such aid as is given by this glass.”
“No one thought of using a magnifying-glass on this,” blurted56 out the sergeant. “The marks made by the knife were plain enough for all to see, and that was all which seemed important.”
Mr. Black said nothing; he was feeling a trifle cheap;— something which did not agree with his crusty nature. Not having seen Mrs. Scoville for a half-hour without her veil, her influence over him was on the wane57, and he began to regret that he had laid himself open to this humiliation58.
She saw that it would be left for her to wind up the interview and get out of the place without arousing too much attention. With a self-possession which astonished both men, knowing her immense interest in this matter, she laid down the stick, and, with a gentle shrug59 of her shoulders, remarked in an easy tone:
“Well, it’s curious! The inns and outs of a crime, I mean. Such a discovery ten years after the event (I think you said ten years) is very interesting.” Then she sighed: “Alas60! it’s too late to benefit the one whose life it might have saved. Mr. Black, shall we be going? I have spent a most entertaining quarter of an hour.”
Mr. Black glanced from her to the sergeant before he joined her. Then, with one of his sour smiles directed towards the former, he said:
“I wouldn’t be talking about this, sergeant. It will do no good, and may subject us to ridicule61.”
The sergeant, none too well pleased, nodded slightly. Seeing which, she spoke10 up:
“I don’t know about that, I should think it but proper reparation to the dead to let it be known that his own story of innocence62 has received this late confirmation63.”
But the lawyer continued to shake his head, with a very sharp look at the sergeant. If he could have his way, he would have this matter stop just where it was.
Alas! he was not to have his way, as he saw, when at parting he essayed to make a final protest against a public as well as premature64 reopening of this old case. She did not see her position as he did, and wound up her plea by saying:
“The public must lend their aid, if we are to get the evidence we need to help us. Can we find the man who whittled that stick? Never. But some one else may. I am going to give the men and women of this town a chance. I’m too anxious to clear my husband’s memory to shrink from any publicity65. You see, I believe that the real culprit will yet be found.”
The lawyer dropped argument. When a woman speaks in that tone, persuasion66 is worse than useless. Besides, she had raised her veil. Strange, what a sensitive countenance67 will do!
收听单词发音 |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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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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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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callousness
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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gorges
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| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
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wards
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| 区( ward的名词复数 )； 病房； 受监护的未成年者； 被人照顾或控制的状态 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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misuse
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| n.误用，滥用；vt.误用，滥用 | |
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discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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expiated
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| v.为（所犯罪过）接受惩罚，赎（罪）( expiate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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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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grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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47
whittled
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
whittling
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的现在分词 ) | |
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49
prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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50
tally
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| n.计数器，记分，一致，测量；vt.计算，记录，使一致；vi.计算，记分，一致 | |
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51
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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52
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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53
embedded
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| a.扎牢的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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56
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
wane
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| n.衰微，亏缺，变弱；v.变小，亏缺，呈下弦 | |
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58
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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59
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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62
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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63
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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64
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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66
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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67
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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