The night was still—as still as a London night can be; for there is always a vague murmuring in the metropolis8 as though the sleeping city breathed gently and sometimes stirred in its sleep.
Then, distinct amid these usual nocturnal noises, rose another, unaccountable sound, a muffled9 crash followed by a musical tinkling10.
Mostyn sprang up in bed, drew on a dressing-gown, and took from the small safe at his bed-head the Museum keys and a loaded revolver. A somewhat dishevelled figure, pale and wild-eyed, he made his way through the private door and into the ghostly precincts of the Museum. He did not hesitate, but ascended11 the stairs and unlocked the door of the Assyrian gallery.
Along its ghostly aisles12 he passed, and before the door which gave admittance to the Burton Room paused, fumbling13 a moment for the key.
Inside the room something was moving!
Mostyn was keenly alarmed; he knew that he must enter at once or never. He inserted the key in the lock, swung open the heavy door, stepped through and closed it behind him. He was a man of tremendous moral courage, for now,—alone in the apartment which harboured the uncanny relic2, alone in the discharge of his duty, he stood with his back to the door trembling slightly, but with the idea of retreat finding no place in his mind.
One side of the room lay in blackest darkness; through the furthermost window of the other a faint yellowed luminance (the moonlight through the blind) spread upon the polished parquet14 flooring. But that which held the curator spell-bound—that which momentarily quickened into life the latent superstition15, common to all mankind, was a beam of cold light which poured its effulgence16 fully17 upon the case containing the Prophet's slipper! Where the other exhibits lay either in utter darkness or semi-darkness this one it seemed was supernaturally picked out by this lunar searchlight!
It was ghostly-unnerving; but, the first dread18 of it passed, Mostyn recalled how during the day a hole inexplicably19 had been cut in that blind; he recalled that it had not been mended, but that the damaged blind had merely been rolled up again.
And as a dawning perception of the truth came to him, as falteringly20 he advanced a step toward the mystic beam, he saw that one side of the case had been shattered—he saw the broken glass upon the floor; and in the dense21 shadow behind and under the beam of light, vaguely22 he saw a dull red object.
It moved—it seemed to live! It moved away from the case and in the direction of the eastern windows.
"My God!" whispered Mostyn; "it's the Prophet's slipper!"
And wildly, blindly, he fired down the room. Later he knew that he had fired in panic, for nothing human was or could be in the place; yet his shot was not without effect. In the instant of its flash, something struck sharply against the dimly seen blind of one of the east windows; he heard the crash of broken glass.
He leapt to the switch and flooded the room with light. A fear of what it might hold possessed23 him, and he turned instantly.
Hard by the fragments of broken glass upon the floor and midway between the case and the first easterly window lay the slipper. A bell was ringing somewhere. His shot probably had aroused the attention of the policeman. Someone was clamouring upon the door of the Museum, too. Mostyn raced forward and raised the blind—that toward which the slipper had seemed to move.
The lower pane24 of the window was smashed. Blood was trickling25 down upon the floor from the jagged edges of the glass.
"Hullo there! Open the door! Open the door!"
Bells were going all over the place now; sounds of running footsteps came from below; but Mostyn stood staring at the broken window and at the solid iron bars which protected it without, which were intact, substantial—which showed him that nothing human could possibly have entered.
Yet the case was shattered, the holy slipper lay close beside him upon the floor, and from the broken window-pane blood was falling—drip-drip-drip...
That was the story as I heard it half an hour later. For Inspector26 Bristol, apprised27 of the happening, was promptly28 on the scene; and knowing how keen was my interest in the matter, he rang me up immediately. I arrived soon after Bristol and found a perplexed29 group surrounding the uncanny slipper of the Prophet. No one had dared to touch it; the dread vengeance30 of Hassan of Aleppo would visit any unbeliever who ventured to lay hand upon the holy, bloody31 thing. Well we knew it, and as though it had been a venomous scorpion32 we, a company of up-to-date, prosaic33 men of affairs, stood around that dilapidated markoob, and kept a respectful distance.
Mostyn, an odd figure in pyjamas34 and dressing-gown, turned his pale, intellectual face to me as I entered.
"It will have to be put back ... secretly," he said.
His voice was very unsteady. Bristol nodded grimly and glanced at the two constables35, who, with a plain-clothes man unknown to me, made up that midnight company.
"I'll do it, sir," said one of the constables suddenly.
"One moment"—Mostyn raised his hand!
In the ensuing silence I could hear the heavy breathing of those around me. We were all looking at the slipper, I think.
"Do you understand, fully," the curator continued, "the risk you run?"
"The hands," resumed Mostyn slowly, "of those who hitherto have ventured to touch it have been"—he hesitated—"cut off."
"Your career in the Force would be finished if it happened to you, my lad," said Bristol shortly.
"I suppose they'd look after me," said the man, with grim humour.
"They would if you met with—an accident, in the discharge of your duty," replied the inspector; "but I haven't ordered you to do it, and I'm not going to."
"All right, sir," said the man, with a sort of studied truculence37, "I'll take my chance."
I tried to stop him; Mostyn, too, stepped forward, and Bristol swore frankly38. But it was all of no avail.
A sort of chill seemed to claim my very soul when I saw the constable stoop, unconcernedly pick up the slipper, and replace it in the broken case.
"All you want is a new pane of glass, sir," he said—"and the thing's done."
I anticipate in mentioning it here; but since Constable Hughes has no further place in these records I may perhaps be excused for dismissing him at this point.
He was picked up outside the section house on the following evening with his right hand severed41 just above the wrist.
点击收听单词发音
1 relics | |
[pl.]n.遗物,遗迹,遗产;遗体,尸骸 | |
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2 relic | |
n.神圣的遗物,遗迹,纪念物 | |
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3 callous | |
adj.无情的,冷淡的,硬结的,起老茧的 | |
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4 slipper | |
n.拖鞋 | |
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5 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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6 holders | |
支持物( holder的名词复数 ); 持有者; (支票等)持有人; 支托(或握持)…之物 | |
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7 avenging | |
adj.报仇的,复仇的v.为…复仇,报…之仇( avenge的现在分词 );为…报复 | |
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8 metropolis | |
n.首府;大城市 | |
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9 muffled | |
adj.(声音)被隔的;听不太清的;(衣服)裹严的;蒙住的v.压抑,捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 );用厚厚的衣帽包着(自己) | |
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10 tinkling | |
n.丁当作响声 | |
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11 ascended | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12 aisles | |
n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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13 fumbling | |
n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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14 parquet | |
n.镶木地板 | |
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15 superstition | |
n.迷信,迷信行为 | |
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16 effulgence | |
n.光辉 | |
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17 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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18 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
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19 inexplicably | |
adv.无法说明地,难以理解地,令人难以理解的是 | |
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20 falteringly | |
口吃地,支吾地 | |
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21 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
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22 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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23 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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24 pane | |
n.窗格玻璃,长方块 | |
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25 trickling | |
n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 );淌;使)慢慢走;缓慢移动 | |
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26 inspector | |
n.检查员,监察员,视察员 | |
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27 apprised | |
v.告知,通知( apprise的过去式和过去分词 );评价 | |
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28 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
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29 perplexed | |
adj.不知所措的 | |
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30 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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31 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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32 scorpion | |
n.蝎子,心黑的人,蝎子鞭 | |
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33 prosaic | |
adj.单调的,无趣的 | |
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34 pyjamas | |
n.(宽大的)睡衣裤 | |
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35 constables | |
n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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36 constable | |
n.(英国)警察,警官 | |
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37 truculence | |
n.凶猛,粗暴 | |
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38 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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39 awesome | |
adj.令人惊叹的,难得吓人的,很好的 | |
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40 spoke | |
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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41 severed | |
v.切断,断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 );断,裂 | |
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