Like — but oh! how different.
Wordsworth.
THE paper mill of Harrison, Goodman & Chamberlain was situated1 in one of the main thoroughfares of Buffalo2. It was a large but otherwise unpretentious building, and gave employment to a vast number of operatives, mostly female.
Some of these latter might have been surprised, and possibly a little fluttered, one evening, at seeing a well-dressed young gentleman standing3 at the gate as they came forth4, gazing with languid interest from one face to another, as if he were on the look-out for some one of their number.
But they would have been yet more astonished could they have seen him still lingering after the last one had passed, watching with unabated patience the opening and shutting of the small side door devoted5 to the use of the firm, and such employés as had seats in the office. It was Mr. Byrd, and his purpose there at this time of day was to see and review the whole rank and file of the young men employed in the place, in the hope of being able to identify the nephew of Mrs. Clemmens by his supposed resemblance to the person whose character of face and form had been so minutely described to him.
For Mr. Byrd was a just man and a thoughtful one, and knowing this identification to be the key-stone of his lately formed theory, desired it to be complete and of no doubtful character. He accordingly held fast to his position, watching and waiting, seemingly in vain, for the dark, powerful face and the sturdily-built frame of the gentleman whose likeness6 he had attempted to draw in conjunction with that of Miss Dare. But, though he saw many men of all sorts and kinds issue from one door or another of this vast building, not one of them struck him with that sudden and unmistakable sense of familiarity which he had a right to expect, and he was just beginning to doubt if the whole framework of his elaborately-formed theory was not destined7 to fall into ruins, when the small door, already alluded8 to, opened once more, and a couple of gentlemen came out.
The appearance of one of them gave Mr. Byrd a start. He was young, powerfully built, wore a large mustache, and had a complexion9 of unusual swarthiness. There was character, too, in his face, though not so much as Mr. Byrd had expected to see in the nephew of Mrs. Clemmens. Still, people differ about degrees of expression, and to his informant this face might have appeared strong. He was dressed in a business suit, and was without an overcoat — two facts that made it difficult for Mr. Byrd to get any assistance from the cut and color of his clothes.
But there was enough in the general style and bearing of this person to make Mr. Byrd anxious to know his name. He, therefore, took it upon himself to follow him — a proceeding10 which brought him to the corner just in time to see the two gentlemen separate, and the especial one in whom he was interested, step into a car.
He succeeded in getting a seat in the same car, and for some blocks had the pleasure of watching the back of the supposed Mansell, as he stood on the front platform with the driver. Then others got in, and the detective’s view was obstructed11, and presently — he never could tell how it was — he lost track of the person he was shadowing, and when the chance came for another sight of the driver and platform, the young man was gone.
Annoyed beyond expression, Mr. Byrd went to a hotel, and next day sent to the mill and procured12 the address of Mr. Mansell. Going to the place named, he found it to be a very respectable boarding-house, and, chancing upon a time when more or less of the rooms were empty, succeeded in procuring13 for himself an apartment there.
So here he was a fixture14 in the house supposed by him to hold the murderer of Mrs. Clemmens. When the time for dinner came, and with it an opportunity for settling the vexed15 question of Mr. Mansell’s identity not only with the man in the Syracuse depot16, but with the person who had eluded17 his pursuit the day before, something of the excitement of the hunter in view of his game seized upon this hitherto imperturbable18 detective, and it was with difficulty he could sustain his usual r?le of fashionable indifference19.
He arrived at the table before any of the other boarders, and presently a goodly array of amiable20 matrons, old and young gentlemen, and pretty girls came filing into the room, and finally — yes, finally — the gentleman whom he had followed from the mill the day before, and whom he now had no hesitation21 in fixing upon as Mr. Mansell.
But the satisfaction occasioned by the settlement of this perplexing question was dampened somewhat by a sudden and uneasy sense of being himself at a disadvantage. Why he should feel thus he did not know. Perhaps the almost imperceptible change which took place in that gentleman’s face as their eyes first met, may have caused the unlooked-for sensation; though why Mr. Mansell should change at the sight of one who must have been a perfect stranger to him, was more than Mr. Byrd could understand. It was enough that the latter felt he had made a mistake in not having donned a disguise before entering this house, and that, oppressed by the idea, he withdrew his attention from the man he had come to watch, and fixed22 it upon more immediate23 and personal matters.
The meal was half over. Mr. Byrd who, as a stranger of more than ordinary good looks and prepossessing manners, had been placed by the obliging landlady24 between her own daughter and a lady of doubtful attractions, was endeavoring to improve his advantages and make himself as agreeable as possible to both of his neighbors, when he heard a lady near him say aloud, “You are late, Mr. Mansell,” and, looking up in his amazement25, saw entering the door —— Well, in the presence of the real owner of this name, he wondered he ever could have fixed upon the other man as the original of the person that had been described to him. The strong face, the sombre expression, the herculean frame, were unique, and in the comparison which they inevitably26 called forth, made all other men in the room look dwarfed27 if not actually commonplace.
Greatly surprised at this new turn of affairs, and satisfied that he at last had before him the man who had confronted Miss Dare in the Syracuse depot, he turned his attention back to the ladies. He, however, took care to keep one ear open on the side of the new-comer, in the hope of gleaning29 from his style and manner of conversation some notion of his disposition30 and nature.
But Craik Mansell was at no time a talkative man, and at this especial period of his career was less inclined than ever to enter into the trivial debates or good-natured repartee31 that was the staple32 of conversation at Mrs. Hart’s table.
So Mr. Byrd’s wishes in this regard were foiled. He succeeded, however, in assuring himself by a square look, into the other’s face, that to whatever temptation this man may have succumbed33, or of whatever crime he may have been guilty, he was by nature neither cold, cruel, nor treacherous34, and that the deadly blow, if dealt by him, was the offspring of some sudden impulse or violent ebullition of temper, and was being repented35 of with every breath he drew.
But this discovery, though it modified Mr. Byrd’s own sense of personal revolt against the man, could not influence him in the discharge of his duty, which was to save another of less interesting and perhaps less valuable traits of character from the consequences of a crime he had never committed. It was, therefore, no more than just, that, upon withdrawing from the table, he should endeavor to put himself in the way of settling that second question, upon whose answer in the affirmative depended the rightful establishment of his secret suspicions.
That was, whether this young man was at or near the house of his aunt at the time when she was assaulted.
Mrs. Hart’s parlors36 were always thrown open to her boarders in the evening.
There, at any time from seven to ten, you might meet a merry crowd of young people intent upon enjoying themselves, and usually highly successful in their endeavors to do so. Into this throng37 Mr. Byrd accordingly insinuated38 himself, and being of the sort to win instant social recognition, soon found he had but to make his choice in order to win for himself that tête-à-tête conversation from which he hoped so much. He consequently surveyed the company with a critical eye, and soon made up his mind as to which lady was the most affable in her manners and the least likely to meet his advances with haughty39 reserve, and having won an introduction to her, sat down at her side with the stern determination of making her talk about Mr. Mansell.
“You have a very charming company here,” he remarked; “the house seems to be filled with a most cheerful class of people.”
“Yes,” was the not-unlooked-for reply. “We are all merry enough if we except Mr. Mansell. But, of course, there is excuse for him. No one expects him to join in our sports.”
“Mr. Mansell? the gentleman who came in late to supper?” repeated Mr. Byrd, with no suggestion of the secret satisfaction he felt at the immediate success of his scheme.
“Yes, he is in great trouble, you know; is the nephew of the woman who was killed a few days ago at Sibley, don’t you remember? The widow lady who was struck on the head by a man of the name of Hildreth, and who died after uttering something about a ring, supposed by many to be an attempt on her part to describe the murderer?”
“Yes,” was the slow, almost languid, response; “and a dreadful thing, too; quite horrifying40 in its nature. And so this Mr. Mansell is her nephew?” he suggestively repeated. “Odd! I suppose he has told you all about the affair?”
“He? Mercy! I don’t suppose you could get him to say anything about it to save your life. He isn’t of the talking sort. Besides, I don’t believe he knows any more about it than you or I. He hasn’t been to Sibley.”
“Didn’t he go to the funeral?”
“No; he said he was too ill; and indeed he was shut up one whole day with a terrible sore throat. He is the heir, too, of all her savings41, they say; but he won’t go to Sibley. Some folks think it is queer, but I——”
Here her eyes wandered and her almost serious look vanished in a somewhat coquettish smile. Following her gaze with his own, Mr. Byrd perceived a gentleman approaching. It was the one he had first taken for Mr. Mansell.
“Beg pardon,” was the somewhat abrupt42 salutation with which this person advanced. “But they are proposing a game in the next room, and Miss Clayton’s assistance is considered absolutely indispensable.”
“Mr. Brown, first allow me to make you acquainted with Mr. Byrd,” said the light-hearted damsel, with a gracious inclination43. “As you are both strangers, it is well for you to know each other, especially as I expect you to join in our games.”
“Thank you,” protested Mr. Brown, “but I don’t play games.” Then seeing the deep bow of acquiescence44 which Mr. Byrd was making, added, with what appeared to be a touch of jealousy45, “Except under strong provocation,” and holding out his arm, offered to escort the young lady into the next room.
With an apologetic glance at Mr. Byrd, she accepted the attention proffered46 her, and speedily vanished into the midst of the laughing group that awaited her.
Mr. Byrd found himself alone.
“Check number one,” thought he; and he bestowed47 any thing but an amiable benediction48 upon the man who had interrupted him in the midst of so promising49 a conversation.
His next move was in the direction of the landlady’s daughter, who, being somewhat shy, favored a retired50 nook behind the piano. They had been neighbors at table, and he could at once address her without fear of seeming obtrusive51.
“I do not see here the dark young gentleman whom you call Mr. Mansell?” he remarked, inquiringly.
“Oh, no; he is in trouble. A near relative of his was murdered in cold blood the other day, and under the most aggravating52 circumstances. Haven’t you heard about it? She was a Mrs. Clemmens, and lived in Sibley. It was in all the papers.”
“Ah, yes; I remember about it very well. And so he is her nephew,” he went on, recklessly repeating himself in his determination to elicit53 all he could from these young and thoughtless misses. “A peculiar-looking young man; has the air of thoroughly54 understanding himself.”
“Yes, he is very smart, they say.”
“Does he never talk?”
“Oh, yes; that is, he used to; but, since his aunt’s death, we don’t expect it. He is very much interested in machinery55, and has invented something ——”
“Oh, Clara, you are not going to sit here,” interposed the reproachful voice of a saucy-eyed maiden56, who at this moment peeped around the corner of the piano. “We want all the recruits we can get,” she cried, with a sudden blush, as she encountered the glance of Mr. Byrd. “Do come, and bring the gentleman too.” And she slipped away to join that very Mr. Brown who, by his importunities, had been the occasion of the former interruption from which Mr. Byrd had suffered.
“That man and I will quarrel yet,” was the mental exclamation57 with which the detective rose. “Shall we join your friends?” asked he, assuming an unconcern he was far from feeling.
“Yes, if you please,” was the somewhat timid, though evidently pleased, reply.
And Mr. Byrd noted58 down in his own mind check number two.
The game was a protracted59 one. Twice did he think to escape from the merry crowd he had entered, and twice did he fail to do so. The indefatigable60 Brown would not let him slip, and it was only by a positive exertion61 of his will that he finally succeeded in withdrawing himself.
“I wish to have a word with your mother,” he explained, in reply to the look of protest with which Miss Hart honored his departure. “I hear she retires early; so you will excuse me if I leave somewhat abruptly62.”
And to Mrs. Hart’s apartment he at once proceeded, and, by dint63 of his easy assurance, soon succeeded in leading her, as he had already done the rest, into a discussion of the one topic for which he had an interest. He had not time, however, to glean28 much from her, for, just as she was making the admission that Mr. Mansell had not been home at the time of the murder, a knock was heard at the door, and, with an affable bow and a short, quick stare of surprise at Mr. Byrd, the ubiquitous Mr. Brown stepped in and took a seat on the sofa, with every appearance of intending to make a call.
At this third check, Mr. Byrd was more than annoyed. Rising, however, with the most amiable courtesy, he bowed his acknowledgments to the landlady, and, without heeding64 her pressing invitation to remain and make the acquaintance of Mr. Brown, left the room and betook himself back to the parlors.
He was just one minute too late. The last of the boarders had gone up-stairs, and only an empty room met his eyes.
He at once ascended65 to his own apartment. It was on the fourth floor. There were many other rooms on this floor, and for a moment he could not remember which was his own door. At last, however, he felt sure it was the third one from the stairs, and, going to it, gave a short knock in case of mistake, and, hearing no reply, opened it and went in.
The first glance assured him that his recollection had played him false, and that he was in the wrong room. The second, that he was in that of Mr. Mansell. The sight of the small model of a delicate and intricate machine that stood in full view on a table before him would have been sufficient assurance of this fact, even if the inventor himself had been absent. But he was there. Seated at a table, with his back to the door, and his head bowed forward on his arms, he presented such a picture of misery66 or despair, that Mr. Byrd felt his sympathies touched in spite of himself, and hastily stumbling backward, was about to confusedly withdraw, when a doubt struck him as to the condition of the deathly, still, and somewhat pallid67 figure before him, and, stepping hurriedly forward, he spoke68 the young man’s name, and, failing to elicit a response, laid his hand on his shoulder, with an apology for disturbing him, and an inquiry69 as to how he felt.
The touch acted where the voice had failed. Leaping from his partly recumbent position, Craik Mansell faced the intruder with indignant inquiry written in every line of his white and determined70 face.
“To what do I owe this intrusion?” he cried, his nostrils71 expanding and contracting with an anger that proved the violence of his nature when aroused.
“First, to my carelessness,” responded Mr. Byrd; “and, secondly72 ——” But there he paused, for the first time in his life, perhaps, absolutely robbed of speech. His eye had fallen upon a picture that the other held clutched in his vigorous right hand. It was a photograph of Imogene Dare, and it was made conspicuous73 by two heavy black lines which had been relentlessy drawn74 across the face in the form of a cross. “Secondly,” he went on, after a moment, resolutely75 tearing his gaze away from this startling and suggestive object, “to my fears. I thought you looked ill, and could not forbear making an effort to reassure76 myself that all was right.”
“Thank you,” ejaculated the other, in a heavy weariful tone. “I am perfectly77 well.” And with a short bow he partially78 turned his back, with a distinct intimation that he desired to be left alone.
Mr. Byrd could not resist this appeal. Glad as he would have been for even a moment’s conversation with this man, he was, perhaps unfortunately, too much of a gentleman to press himself forward against the expressed wishes even of a suspected criminal. He accordingly withdrew to the door, and was about to open it and go out, when it was flung violently forward, and the ever-obtrusive Brown stepped in.
This second intrusion was more than unhappy Mr. Mansell could stand. Striding passionately79 forward, he met the unblushing Brown at full tilt80, and angrily pointing to the door, asked if it was not the custom of gentlemen to knock before entering the room of strangers.
“I beg pardon,” said the other, backing across the threshold, with a profuse81 display of confusion. “I had no idea of its being a stranger’s room. I thought it was my own. I— I was sure that my door was the third from the stairs. Excuse me, excuse me.” And he bustled82 noisily out.
This precise reproduction of his own train of thought and action confounded Mr. Byrd.
Turning with a deprecatory glance to the perplexed83 and angry occupant of the room, he said something about not knowing the person who had just left them; and then, conscious that a further contemplation of the stern and suffering countenance84 before him would unnerve him for the duty he had to perform, hurriedly withdrew.
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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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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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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obstructed
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| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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procuring
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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fixture
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| n.固定设备；预定日期；比赛时间；定期存款 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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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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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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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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immediate
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landlady
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amazement
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inevitably
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dwarfed
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| vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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glean
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| v.收集(消息、资料、情报等) | |
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gleaning
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| n.拾落穗，拾遗，落穗v.一点点地收集（资料、事实）( glean的现在分词 )；（收割后）拾穗 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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staple
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| n.主要产物，常用品，主要要素，原料，订书钉，钩环；adj.主要的，重要的；vt.分类 | |
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succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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treacherous
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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parlors
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| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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insinuated
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| v.暗示( insinuate的过去式和过去分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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horrifying
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| a.令人震惊的，使人毛骨悚然的 | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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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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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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obtrusive
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| adj.显眼的；冒失的 | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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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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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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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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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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