But at last came the explosion which blew my security into atoms. It was a disastrous5 affair and foolish, too; and what made it worse was that it was my own hand that set the match to the gunpowder6. Very vividly7 do I recall the circumstances, though, at first, they seemed trivial enough. A man from a tool-maker’s had come into the workshop to inspect a new slide-rest that his firm had fitted to the lathe8. When he had examined it and pronounced it satisfactory, he picked up the heavy bag that he had brought and was turning towards the door when Mr. Parrish said:
“If you have got the account with you, I may as well settle up now.”
The man produced the account from his pocket-book and handed it to Mr. Parrish, who glanced at it and then, diving into his coat-tail pocket, brought out a leather wallet (which I instantly recognized as an old acquaintance) and, extracting from it a five-pound note, handed the latter to the man in exchange for the receipt and a few shillings change. As our visitor put away the note, Mr. Parrish said to me: “Take Mr. Soames’s bag, Polton, and carry it out to the cab.”
I picked up the bag, which seemed to be filled with tool-makers’ samples, and conveyed it out to the waiting “growler”, where I stowed it on the front seat, and, waiting with the door open, saw Mr. Soames safely into the vehicle and shut him in. Returning into the house, I encountered Mr. Parrish, who was standing10 at the front door; and then it was that some demon11 of mischief12 impelled13 me to an act of the most perfectly14 asinine15 folly16.
“I see, sir,” I said with a fatuous17 smirk18, “that you still carry your wallet in your coat-tail pocket.”
He halted suddenly and stared at me with a strange, startled expression that brought me to my senses with a jerk. But it was too late. I saw that the fat was in the fire, though I didn’t guess how much fat there was or how big was the fire. After a prolonged stare, he commanded, gruffly:
“Come into my room and tell me what you mean.” I followed him in, miserably19, and when he had shut the door, I explained:
“I was thinking, sir, of what the inspector20 at the police station said to you about carrying your wallet in your tail pocket. Don’t you remember, sir?”
“Yes,” he replied, glaring at me ferociously21, “I remember. And I remember you, too, now that you have reminded me. I always thought that I had seen you before. So you are the young rascal22 who was found in possession of the stolen property.”
“But I didn’t steal it, sir,” I pleaded.
“Ha!” said he. “So you said at the time. Very well. That will do for the present.”
I sneaked23 out of the room very crest-fallen and apprehensive24. “For the present!” What did he mean by that? Was there more trouble to come? I looked nervously25 in at the workshop, but as the other occupants had now gone to dinner, I took myself off and repaired to an a-la-mode beef shop in Oxford26 Market, where I fortified27 myself with a big basinful of the steaming compound and “topped up” with a halfpennyworth of apples from a stall in the market. Then I whiled away the remainder of the dinner hour rambling28 about the streets, trying to interest myself in shop windows, but unable to rid myself of the haunting dread29 of what loomed30 in the immediate31 future.
At length, as the last minutes of the dinner hour ran out, I crept back timorously32, hoping to slink unnoticed along the passage to the workshop. But even as I entered, my forebodings were realized. For there was my employer, evidently waiting for me, and a glance at his face prepared me for instant dismissal. He motioned to me silently to follow him into his room, and I did so in the deepest dejection; but when I entered and found a third person in the room, my dejection gave place to something like terror. For that third person was Detective Sergeant33 Pitts.
He recognized me instantly, for he greeted me drily by name. Then, characteristically, he came straight to the point.
“Mr. Parrish alleges34 that you have opened his cash drawer with a false key and have, from time to time, taken certain monies from it. Now, before you say any thing, I must caution you that anything you may say will be taken down in writing and may be used in evidence against you. So be very careful. Do you wish to say anything?”
“Certainly I do,” I replied, my indignation almost overcoming my alarm. “I say that I have no false key, that I have never touched the drawer except in Mr. Parrish’s presence, and that I have never taken any money whatsoever35.”
The sergeant made a note of my reply in a large black note-book and then asked: “Is it true that you made a key to fit this drawer?”
“Yes, for Mr. Parrish; and he has that key and the broken one from which it was copied. I made no other key.”
“How did you make that key? By measurements only, or did you make a squeeze?”
“I made a squeeze from the broken key, and, as soon as the job was finished, I destroyed it.”
“That’s what he says,” exclaimed Mr. Parrish, “but it’s a lie. He kept the squeeze and made another key from it.”
The sergeant cast a slightly impatient glance at him and remarked, drily: “We are taking his statement,” and continued:
“Now, Polton, Mr. Parrish says that he marked some, or all, of the money in that drawer with a P. scratched just behind the head. If you have got any money about you, perhaps you would like to show it to us.”
“Like, indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Parrish. “He’ll have to be searched whether he likes it or not.”
The sergeant looked at him angrily, but, as I proceeded to turn out my pockets and lay the contents on the table, he made no remark until Mr. Parrish was about to pounce37 on the coins that I had laid down, when he said, brusquely: “Keep your hands off that money, Mr. Parrish. This is my affair.”
Then he proceeded to examine the coins, one by one, laying them down again in two separate groups. Having finished, he looked at me steadily38 and said:
“Here, Polton, are five coins: three half-crowns and a shilling and a sixpence. All the half-crowns are marked with a P. The other coins are not marked. Can you explain how you came by those half-crowns?”
“Yes, sir. I received them from Mr. Parrish when he paid me my wages last Saturday. He gave me four half-crowns, two forms and a shilling; and he took the money from that drawer.”
The sergeant looked at Mr. Parrish. “Is that correct?” he asked.
“I paid him his wages — fifteen shillings — but I don’t admit that those are the coins I gave him.”
“But,” the sergeant persisted, “did you take the money from that drawer?”
“Of course I did,” snapped Parrish. “It’s my petty-cash drawer.”
“And did you examine the coins to see whether they were marked?”
“I expect I did, but I really don’t remember.”
“He did not,” said I. “He just counted out the money and handed it to me.”
The sergeant gazed at my employer with an expression of bewilderment.
“Well, of all —” he began, and then stopped and began again: “But what on earth was the use of marking the money and then paying it out in the ordinary way?”
The question stumped39 Mr. Parrish for the moment. Then, having mumbled40 something about “a simple precaution”, he returned to the subject of the squeeze and the key. But the sergeant cut him short.
“It’s no use just making accusations42 without proof. You’ve got nothing to go on. The marked money is all bunkum, and as to the key, you are simply guessing. You’ve not made out any case at all.”
“Oh, haven’t I?” Parrish retorted. “What about that key and the lock that he repaired and the stolen money? I am going to prosecute43 him, and I call on you to arrest him now.”
“I’m not going to arrest him,” said the sergeant; “but if you still intend to prosecute, you’d better come along and settle the matter with the inspector at the station. You come, too, Polton, so that you can answer any questions.”
Thus did history repeat itself. Once more, after five years, did I journey to the same forbidding destination in company with the same accuser and the guardian44 of the law. When we arrived at the police station and were about to enter, we nearly collided with a smartly dressed gentleman who was hurrying out, and whom I recognized as my late benefactor45, Mr. Cohen. He recognized me at the same moment and stopped short with a look of surprise at the sergeant.
“Why, what’s this, Polton?” he demanded. “What are you doing here?”
“He is accused by this gentleman,” the sergeant explained, “of having stolen money from a drawer by means of a false key.”
“Bah!” exclaimed Mr. Cohen. “Nonsense. He is a most respectable lad. I know him well and can vouch46 for his excellent character.”
“You don’t know him as well as I do,” said Mr. Parrish, viciously.
Mr. Cohen turned on him a look of extreme disfavour and then addressed the sergeant.
“If there is going to be a prosecution47, Sergeant, I shall undertake the defence. But I should like to have a few words with Polton and hear his account of the affair before the charge is made.”
To this Mr. Parrish was disposed to object, muttering something about” collusion “, but, as the inspector was engaged at the moment, the sergeant thrust my adviser48 and me into a small, empty room and shut the door. Then Mr. Cohen began to ply36 me with questions, and so skilfully49 were they framed that in a few minutes he had elicited50, not only the immediate circumstances, but also the material antecedents, including the incident of the wax squeeze and Mr. Kennet’s observations with the reflecting level. I had just finished my recital51 when the sergeant opened the door and invited us to step into the inspector’s office.
Police officers appear to have astonishing memories. The inspector was the same one who had taken — or rather refused — the charge on my former visit, and I gathered that not only was his recognition of accused and accuser instantaneous, but that he even remembered the circumstances in detail. His mention of the fact did not appear to encourage Mr. Parrish, who began the statement of his case in a rather diffident tone; but he soon warmed up, and finished upon a note of fierce denunciation. He made no reference to the marked coins, but the sergeant supplied the deficiency with a description of the incident to which the inspector listened with an appreciative52 grin.
“It comes to this, then,” that officer summed up. “You have missed certain money from your cash-drawer and you suspect Polton of having stolen it because he is able to make a key.”
“And a very good reason, too,” Mr. Parrish retorted, defiantly53.
“You have no proof that he did actually make a key?”
“He must have done so, or he wouldn’t have been able to steal the money.”
The inspector exchanged glances of intelligence with the sergeant and then turned to my adviser.
“Now, Mr. Cohen, you say you are acting9 for the accused. You have heard what Mr. Parrish has said. Is there any answer to the charge?”
“There is a most complete and conclusive54 answer,” Mr. Cohen replied. “In the first place I can prove that Polton destroyed the wax squeeze immediately when he had finished the key. Further, I can prove that, while Polton was absent, trying the key in the lock, some other person abstracted a piece of the wax and made an impression on it with the broken key. He thought he was unobserved, but he was mistaken. Someone saw him take the wax and make the squeeze. Now, the person who made that squeeze was a member of Mr. Parrish’s household, and so would have had access to Mr. Parrish’s office in his absence.”
“He wouldn’t,” Mr. Parrish interposed. “I always lock my office when I go away from it.”
“And when you are in it,” the inspector asked, “where is the key?”
“In the door, of course,” Mr. Parrish replied impatiently.
“On the outside, where anyone could take it out quietly, make a squeeze and put it back. And somebody must have made a false key if the money was really stolen. The drawer couldn’t have been robbed when you were in the office.”
“That is exactly what I am saying,” Mr. Parrish protested. “This young rogue55 made two keys, one of the door and one of the cash-drawer.”
The inspector took a deep breath and then looked at Mr. Cohen.
“You say, Mr. Cohen, that you can produce evidence. What sort of evidence?”
“Absolutely conclusive evidence, sir,” Mr. Cohen replied. “The testimony56 of an eye-witness who saw Polton destroy his squeeze and saw the other person take a piece of the wax and make the impression. If this case goes into Court, I shall call that witness and he will disclose the identity of that person. And then I presume that the police would take action against that person.”
“Certainly,” replied the inspector. “If Mr. Parrish swears that money was stolen from that drawer and you prove that some person, living in the house, had made a squeeze of the drawer-key, we should, naturally, charge that person with having committed the robbery. Can you swear, Mr. Parrish, that the money was really stolen and give particulars of the amounts?”
“Well,” replied Mr. Parrish, mightily57 flustered58 by these new developments, “to the best of my belief — but if there is going to be a lot of fuss and scandal, perhaps I had better let the matter drop and say no more about it.”
“That won’t do, Mr. Parrish,” my champion said, sharply. “You have accused a most respectable young man of a serious crime, and you have actually planted marked money on him and pretended that he stole it. Now, you have got, either to support that accusation41 — which you can’t do, because it is false — or withdraw the charge unconditionally59 and acknowledge your mistake. If you do that, in writing, I am willing to let the matter drop, as you express it. Otherwise, I shall take such measures as may be necessary to establish my client’s innocence60.”
The pretty obvious meaning of Mr. Cohen’s threat was evidently understood, for my crestfallen61 accuser turned in dismay to the inspector with a mumbled request for advice; to which the officer replied, briskly:
“Well. What’s the difficulty? You’ve been guessing, and you’ve guessed wrong. Why not do the fair thing and admit your mistake like a man?”
In the end, Mr. Parrish surrendered, though with a very bad grace; and when Mr. Cohen had written out a short statement, he signed it, and Sergeant Pitts attested62 the signature and Mr. Cohen bestowed63 the document in his wallet; which brought the proceedings64 to an end. Mr. Parrish departed in dudgeon; and I— when I had expressed my profound gratitude65 to Mr. Cohen for his timely help — followed him, in considerably66 better spirits than when I had arrived.
But as soon as I was outside the police station, the realities of my position came back to me. The greater peril67 of the false charge and possible conviction and imprisonment68, I had escaped; but the other peril still hung over me. I had now to return to my place of employment, but I knew that there would be no more employment for me. Mr. Parrish was an unreasonable69, obstinate70 man, and evidently vindictive71. No generous regret for the false accusation could I expect, but rather an exacerbation72 of his anger against me. He would never forgive the humiliation73 that Mr. Cohen had inflicted74 on him.
My expectations were only too literally75 fulfilled. As I entered the house, I found him waiting for me in the hail with a handful of silver in his fist.
“Ha!” said he, “so you have had the impudence76 to come back. Well, I don’t want you here. I’ve done with you. Here are your week’s wages, and now you can take yourself off.”
He handed me the money and pointed77 to the door, but I reminded him that my tools were in the workshop and requested permission to go and fetch them.
“Very well,” said he, “you can take your tools, and I will come with you to see that you don’t take any thing else.”
He escorted me to the workshop, where, as we entered, Kennet looked at us with undissembled curiosity, and Gus cast a furtive78 and rather nervous glance over his shoulder. Both had evidently gathered that there was trouble in the air.
“Now,” said Mr. Parrish, “look sharp. Get your things together and clear out.”
As the order was given, in a tone of furious anger, Gus bent79 down over his bench and Kennet turned to watch us with a scowl80 on his face that suggested an inclination81 to take a hand in the proceedings. But if he had had any such intention, he thought better of it, though he continued to look at me, gloomily, as I packed my bag, until Mr Parrish noticed him an demanded, angrily:
“What are you staring at, Kennet? Mind your own business and get on with your work.”
“Polton got the sack?” asked Kennet.
“Yes, he has,” was the gruff reply.
“What for?” Kennet demanded with equal gruffness.
“That’s no affair of yours,” Parrish replied. “You attend to your own job.”
“Well,” said Kennet, “you are sending away a good workman, and I hope he’ll get a better billet next time. So long, mate.” and with this he turned back sulkily to his lathe, while I, having now finished packing my bag, said “good-bye” to him and was forthwith shepherded out of the workshop.
As I took my way homeward — that is, towards Foubert’s Place — I reflected on the disastrous change in my condition that a few foolish words had wrought83. For I could not disguise from myself the fact that my position was even worse than it had been when poor Mr. Abraham’s death had sent me adrift. Then, I had a reasonable explanation of my being out of work, Just now I should not dare to mention my last employer. I had been dismissed on suspicion of theft. It was a false suspicion and its falsity could be proved. But no stranger would go into that question. The practical effect was the same as if I had been guilty. I should have to evade84 any questions as to my last employment.
A review of my resources was not more encouraging. I had nine shillings left from my last wages and the fifteen shillings that Mr. Parrish had just paid me, added to which was a small store in my money-box that I had managed to put by from week to week. I knew the amount exactly, and, casting up the entire sum of my wealth, found that the total was two pounds, three shillings and sixpence. On that I should have to subsist85 and pay my rent until I should obtain some fresh employment; and the ominous86 question as to how long it would last was one that I did not dare to consider.
When I had put away my tool-bag in the cupboard and bestowed the bulk of my money in the cash-box, I took a long drink from the water-jug to serve in lieu of tea and set forth82 towards Clerkenwell to use what was left of the day in taking up once more the too-familiar quest.
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1
tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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livelihood
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| n.生计，谋生之道 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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lathe
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| n.车床，陶器，镟床 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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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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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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asinine
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| adj.愚蠢的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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fatuous
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| adj.愚昧的；昏庸的 | |
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smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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timorously
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| adv.胆怯地，羞怯地 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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alleges
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| 断言，宣称，辩解( allege的第三人称单数 ) | |
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whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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pounce
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| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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stumped
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| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的过去式和过去分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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prosecute
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| vt.告发；进行；vi.告发，起诉，作检察官 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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vouch
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| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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50
elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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52
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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53
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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54
conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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55
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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56
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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57
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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58
flustered
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| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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unconditionally
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| adv.无条件地 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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attested
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| adj.经检验证明无病的，经检验证明无菌的v.证明( attest的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；声称…属实；使宣誓 | |
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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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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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exacerbation
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| n.恶化，激怒，增剧；转剧 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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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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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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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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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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subsist
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| vi.生存，存在，供养 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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