“I want you to come round at once,” he said urgently. “The Deepbrow case is developing along lines which I confess I had anticipated, but which are dramatic nevertheless.”
Knowing that Harley did not lightly make such an assertion, I put aside the work upon which I was engaged and hurried around to Chancery Lane. I found my friend, pipe in mouth, walking up and down his smoke-laden study in a state which I knew to betoken2 suppressed excitement, and:
“Did Wessex find your photographer?” I asked on entering.
“Yes,” he replied. “A first-class man, as I had anticipated. As I had further anticipated he did a number of copies of the picture for the foreign gentleman—about fifty, in fact!”
“Fifty!”
“Yes! Does the significance of that fact strike you?” asked Harley, a queer smile stealing across his tanned, clean-shaven face.
“It is an extraordinary thing for even an ardent3 admirer to have so many reproductions done of the same picture!”
“It is! I will show you now what I found trodden into one of the footprints where the struggle took place beside the car.”
“What is it?”
“It is a link, Knox—a link to seek which I really went down to Deepbrow.” He stared at me quizzically, but my answering look must have been a blank one. “It is part of the tassel5 of one of those red cloth caps commonly called in England, a fez!”
He continued to stare at me and I to stare at the piece of silk; then:
“What is the next move?” I demanded. “Your new clue rather bewilders me.”
“The next move,” he said, “is to retire to the adjoining room and make ourselves look as much like a couple of Oriental commercial travellers as our correctly British appearance will allow!”
“What!” I cried.
“That's it!” laughed Harley. “I have a perpetual tan, and I think I can give you a temporary one which I keep in a bottle for the purpose.”
Twenty minutes later, then, having quitted Harley's chambers6 by a back way opening into one of those old-world courts which abound8 in this part of the metropolis9, two quietly attired10 Eastern gentlemen got into a cab at the corner of Chancery Lane and proceeded in the direction of Limehouse.
There are haunts in many parts of London whose very existence is unsuspected by all but the few; haunts unvisited by the tourist and even unknown to the copy-hunting pressman. Into a quiet thoroughfare not three minutes' walk from the busy life of West India Dock Road, Harley led the way. Before a door sandwiched in between the entrance to a Greek tobacconist's establishment and a boarded shop-front, he paused and turned to me.
“Whatever you see or hear,” he cautioned, “express no surprise. Above all, show no curiosity.”
He rang the bell beside the door, and almost immediately it was opened by a Negress, grossly and repellently ugly.
Harley pattered something in what sounded like Arabic, whereat the Negress displayed the utmost servility, ushering11 us into an ill-lighted passage with every evidence of respect. Following this passage to its termination, an inner door was opened, and a burst of discordant12 music greeted us, together with a wave of tobacco smoke. We entered.
We stood in the doorway14 of a fairly large apartment having a divan15 round three of its sides. This divan was occupied by ten or a dozen men of mixed nationalities—Arabs, Greeks, lascars, and others. They smoked cigarettes for the most part and sipped16 Mokha from little cups. A girl was performing a wriggling17 dance upon the square carpet occupying the centre of the floor, accompanied by a Nubian boy who twanged upon a guitar, and by most of the assembled company, who clapped their hands to the music or droned a low, tuneless dirge18.
Shortly after our entrance the performance terminated, and the girl retired19 through a curtained doorway at the farther end of the room. Our presence being now observed, suspicious glances were cast in our direction, and a very aged1 man, who sat smoking a narghli near the door by which the girl had made her exit, gravely waved towards us the amber7 mouthpiece which he held in his hand.
Harley walked straight across to him, I close at his heels. The light of a lamp which hung close by fell fully20 upon my friend's face; and, rising from his seat, the old man greeted him with the dignified21 and graceful22 salutation of the East. At his request we seated ourselves beside him, and, while we all three smoked excellent Turkish cigarettes, Harley and he conversed23 in a low tone. Suddenly, at some remark of my friend's, our strange host rose to his feet, an angry frown contracting his heavy eyebrows24.
Silence fell upon the company.
In a loud and peremptory25 voice he called out something in Arabic.
Instantly I detected a fellow near the entrance door, and whom I had not hitherto observed, slipping furtively26 into the shadow, with a view, as I thought, to secret departure. He seemed to be deformed27 in some way and had the most evil, pock-marked face I had ever beheld28 in my life. Angrily, the majestic29 old man recalled him. Whereupon, with a sort of animal snarl30 quite indescribable, the fellow plucked out a knife! Two men who had been on the point of seizing him fell back, and:
“Hold him!” shouted Harley, springing forward—“hold him! It's Ali of Cairo!”
But Harley was too late. Turning, the strange and formidable-looking Oriental ran like the wind! Ere hand could be raised to stay him he was through the doorway!
“That settles it,” said Harley grimly, as once more I found myself in a cab beside him. “I was right; but he'll forestall31 us!”
“Who will forestall us?” I asked in bewilderment.
“The biggest villain32 in Europe, Asia, or Africa!” cried my companion. “I have wasted precious time to-day. I might have known.” He drummed irritably33 upon his knees. “The place we have just left is a sort of club, you understand, Knox, and Hakim is the proprietor34 or host as well as being an old gentleman of importance and authority in the Moslem35 world. I told him of my suspicions—which step I should have taken earlier—and they were instantly confirmed. My man was there—recognized me—and bolted! He'll forestall us.”
“But my dear fellow,” I said patiently—“who is this man, and what has he to do with the Deepbrow case?”
“He is the blackest scoundrel breathing!” answered Harley bitterly. “As to what he has to do with the case—why did he bolt? At any rate, I know where to find him now—and we may not be too late after all.”
“But who and what is this man?”
“He is Ali of Cairo! As to what he is—you will soon learn.”
点击收听单词发音
1 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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2 betoken | |
v.预示 | |
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3 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
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4 twine | |
v.搓,织,编饰;(使)缠绕 | |
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5 tassel | |
n.流苏,穗;v.抽穗, (玉米)长穗须 | |
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6 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
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7 amber | |
n.琥珀;琥珀色;adj.琥珀制的 | |
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8 abound | |
vi.大量存在;(in,with)充满,富于 | |
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9 metropolis | |
n.首府;大城市 | |
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10 attired | |
adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服,使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11 ushering | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的现在分词 ) | |
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12 discordant | |
adj.不调和的 | |
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13 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
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14 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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15 divan | |
n.长沙发;(波斯或其他东方诗人的)诗集 | |
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16 sipped | |
v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17 wriggling | |
v.扭动,蠕动,蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 );(使身体某一部位)扭动;耍滑不做,逃避(应做的事等);蠕蠕 | |
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18 dirge | |
n.哀乐,挽歌,庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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19 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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20 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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21 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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22 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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23 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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24 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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25 peremptory | |
adj.紧急的,专横的,断然的 | |
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26 furtively | |
adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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27 deformed | |
adj.畸形的;变形的;丑的,破相了的 | |
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28 beheld | |
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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29 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
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30 snarl | |
v.吼叫,怒骂,纠缠,混乱;n.混乱,缠结,咆哮 | |
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31 forestall | |
vt.抢在…之前采取行动;预先阻止 | |
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32 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
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33 irritably | |
ad.易生气地 | |
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34 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
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35 Moslem | |
n.回教徒,穆罕默德信徒;adj.回教徒的,回教的 | |
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