As I descended1 to the street the liftman regarded me in a curious and rather significant way. Finally, just as I was about to step out into the hall:
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, having evidently decided2 that I was a fit person to converse3 with, “but are you a friend of Mr. Adderley's?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, sir, I hope you will excuse me, but at times I have thought the gentleman was just a little bit queer, like.”
“You mean insane?” I asked sharply.
“Well, sir, I don't know, but he is always asking me if I can see shadows and things in the lift, and sometimes when he comes in late of a night he absolutely gives me the cold shivers, he does.”
I lingered, the box under my arm, reluctant to obtain confidences from a servant, but at the same time keenly interested. Thus encouraged:
“Then there's that lady friend of his who is always coming here,” the man continued. “She's haunted by shadows, too.” He paused, watching me narrowly.
“There's nothing better in this world than a clean conscience, sir,” he concluded.
Having returned to my room at the hotel, I set down the mysterious parcel, surveying it with much disfavour. That it contained the hand of the Mandarin4 Quong I could not doubt, the hand which had been amputated by Dr. Matheson. Its appearance in that dramatic fashion confirmed Matheson's idea that the mandarin's injury had been received at the hands of Adderley. What did all this portend5, unless that the Mandarin Quong was dead? And if he were dead why was Adderley more afraid of him dead than he had been of him living?
I thought of the haunting shadow, I thought of the night at Katong, and I thought of Dr. Matheson's words when he had told us of his discovery of the Chinaman lying in the road that night outside Singapore.
I felt strangely disinclined to touch the relic6, and it was only after some moments' hesitation7 that I undid8 the wrappings and raised the lid of the casket. Dusk was very near and I had not yet lighted the lamps; therefore at first I doubted the evidence of my senses. But having lighted up and peered long and anxiously into the sandal-wood lining9 of the casket I could doubt no longer.
The casket was empty!
It was like a conjuring10 trick. That the hand had been in the box when I had taken it up from Adderley's table I could have sworn before any jury. When and by whom it had been removed was a puzzle beyond my powers of unravelling11. I stepped toward the telephone—and then remembered that Paul Harley was out of London. Vaguely12 wondering if Adderley had played me a particularly gruesome practical joke, I put the box on a sideboard and again contemplated13 the telephone doubtfully far a moment. It was in my mind to ring him up. Finally, taking all things into consideration, I determined14 that I would have nothing further to do with the man's unsavoury and mysterious affairs.
It was in vain, however, that I endeavoured to dismiss the matter from my mind; and throughout the evening, which I spent at a theatre with some American friends, I found myself constantly thinking of Adderley and the ivory casket, of the mandarin of Johore Bahru, and of the mystery of the shrivelled yellow hand.
I had been back in my room about half an hour, I suppose, and it was long past midnight, when I was startled by a ringing of my telephone bell. I took up the receiver, and:
“Knox! Knox!” came a choking cry.
“Yes, who is speaking?”
“It is I, Adderley. For God's sake come round to my place at once!”
“What do you mean? What is the matter?”
“It is here, Knox, it is here! It is knocking on the door! Knocking! Knocking!”
“You have been drinking,” I said sternly. “Where is your man?”
“The cur has bolted. He bolted the moment he heard that damned knocking. I am all alone; I have no one else to appeal to.” There came a choking sound, then: “My God, Knox, it is getting in! I can see... the shadow on the blind...”
Convinced that Adderley's secret fears had driven him mad, I nevertheless felt called upon to attend to his urgent call, and without a moment's delay I hurried around to St. James's Street. The liftman was not on duty, the lower hall was in darkness, but I raced up the stairs and found to my astonishment17 that Adderley's door was wide open.
“Adderley!” I cried. “Adderley!”
There was no reply, and without further ceremony I entered and searched the chambers18. They were empty. Deeply mystified, I was about to go out again when there came a ring at the door-bell. I walked to the door and a policeman was standing19 upon the landing.
“You are not the gentleman who ran out awhile ago,” he said, a note of suspicion coming into his voice.
I handed him my card and explained what had occurred, then:
“It must have been Mr. Adderley I saw,” muttered the constable.
“You saw—when?”
“Just before you arrived, sir. He came racing22 out into St. James's Street and dashed off like a madman.”
“In which direction was he going?”
The neighbourhood was practically deserted24 at that hour. But from the guard on duty before the palace we obtained our first evidence of Adderley's movements. He had raced by some five minutes before, frantically25 looking back over his shoulder and behaving like a man flying for his life. No one else had seen him. No one else ever did see him alive. At two o'clock there was no news, but I had informed Scotland Yard and official inquiries26 had been set afoot.
Nothing further came to light that night, but as all readers of the daily press will remember, Adderley's body was taken out of the pond in St. James's Park on the following day. Death was due to drowning, but his throat was greatly discoloured as though it had been clutched in a fierce grip.
It was I who identified the body, and as many people will know, in spite of the closest inquiries, the mystery of Adderley's death has not been properly cleared up to this day. The identity of the lady who visited him at his chambers was never discovered. She completely disappeared.
The ebony and ivory casket lies on my table at this present moment, visible evidence of an invisible menace from which Adderley had fled around the world.
Doubtless the truth will never be known now. A significant discovery, however, was made some days after the recovery of Adderley's body.
From the bottom of the pond in St. James's Park a patient Scotland Yard official brought up the gold nail-case with its mysterious engravings—and it contained, torn at the root, the incredibly long finger-nail of the Mandarin Quong!
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收听单词发音
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1
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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Mandarin
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| n.中国官话，国语，满清官吏；adj.华丽辞藻的 | |
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portend
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| v.预兆，预示；给…以警告 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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11
unravelling
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| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的现在分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
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12
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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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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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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