With a quick glance to right and left, Smith ran across on to the common, and, leaving the door wide open behind me, I followed. The path which Eltham had pursued terminated almost opposite to my house. One’s gaze might follow it, white and empty, for several hundred yards past the pond, and further, until it became overshadowed and was lost amid a clump6 of trees.
I came up with Smith, and side by side we ran on, whilst pantingly, I told my tale.
“It was a trick to get you away from him!” cried Smith. “They meant no doubt to make some attempt at your house, but as he came out with you, an alternative plan—”
“Where did you last see Eltham?” he asked rapidly.
“You see that clump of bushes on the other side of the road?” I said. “There’s a path to the left of it. I took that path and he took this. We parted at the point where they meet—”
Smith walked right down to the edge of the water and peered about over the surface.
What he hoped to find there I could not imagine. Whatever it had been he was disappointed, and he turned to me again, frowning perplexedly, and tugging9 at the lobe10 of his left ear, an old trick which reminded me of gruesome things we had lived through in the past.
“Come on,” he jerked. “It may be amongst the trees.”
From the tone of his voice I knew that he was tensed up nervously11, and his mood but added to the apprehension12 of my own.
“What may be amongst the trees, Smith?” I asked.
He walked on.
“God knows, Petrie; but I fear—”
Behind us, along the highroad, a tramcar went rocking by, doubtless bearing a few belated workers homeward. The stark13 incongruity14 of the thing was appalling15. How little those weary toilers, hemmed16 about with the commonplace, suspected that almost within sight from the car windows, in a place of prosy benches, iron railings, and unromantic, flickering17 lamps, two fellow men moved upon the border of a horror-land!
Beneath the trees a shadow carpet lay, its edges tropically sharp; and fully18 ten yards from the first of the group, we two, hatless both, and sharing a common dread19, paused for a moment and listened.
The car had stopped at the further extremity20 of the common, and now with a moan that grew to a shriek21 was rolling on its way again. We stood and listened until silence reclaimed22 the night. Not a footstep could be heard. Then slowly we walked on. At the edge of the little coppice we stopped again abruptly23.
Smith turned and thrust his pistol into my hand. A white ray of light pierced the shadows; my companion carried an electric torch. But no trace of Eltham was discoverable.
There had been a heavy shower of rain during the evening just before sunset, and although the open paths were dry again, under the trees the ground was still moist. Ten yards within the coppice we came upon tracks—the tracks of one running, as the deep imprints24 of the toes indicated.
Abruptly the tracks terminated; others, softer, joined them, two sets converging25 from left and right. There was a confused patch, trailing off to the west; then this became indistinct, and was finally lost upon the hard ground outside the group.
For perhaps a minute, or more, we ran about from tree to tree, and from bush to bush, searching like hounds for a scent26, and fearful of what we might find. We found nothing; and fully in the moonlight we stood facing one another. The night was profoundly still.
Nayland Smith stepped back into the shadows, and began slowly to turn his head from left to right, taking in the entire visible expanse of the common. Toward a point where the road bisected it he stared intently. Then, with a bound, he set off.
“Come on, Petrie!” he cried. “There they are!”
Vaulting27 a railing he went away over a field like a madman. Recovering from the shock of surprise, I followed him, but he was well ahead of me, and making for some vaguely28 seen object moving against the lights of the roadway.
Another railing was vaulted29, and the corner of a second, triangular30 grass patch crossed at a hot sprint31. We were twenty yards from the road when the sound of a starting motor broke the silence. We gained the graveled footpath32 only to see the taillight of the car dwindling33 to the north!
Smith leaned dizzily against a tree.
He beat his fist upon the tree, in a sort of tragic35 despair. The nearest cab-rank was no great distance away, but, excluding the possibility of no cab being there, it might, for all practical purposes, as well have been a mile off.
The beat of the retreating motor was scarcely audible; the lights might but just be distinguished36. Then, coming in an opposite direction, appeared the headlamp of another car, of a car that raced nearer and nearer to us, so that, within a few seconds of its first appearance, we found ourselves bathed in the beam of its headlights.
Smith bounded out into the road, and stood, a weird37 silhouette38, with upraised arms, fully in its course!
The brakes were applied39 hurriedly. It was a big limousine40, and its driver swerved41 perilously42 in avoiding Smith and nearly ran into me. But, the breathless moment past, the car was pulled up, head on to the railings; and a man in evening clothes was demanding excitedly what had happened. Smith, a hatless, disheveled figure, stepped up to the door.
“My name is Nayland Smith,” he said rapidly—“Burmese Commissioner43.” He snatched a letter from his pocket and thrust it into the hands of the bewildered man. “Read that. It is signed by another Commissioner—the Commissioner of Police.”
“You see,” continued my friend, tersely—“it is carte blanche. I wish to commandeer your car, sir, on a matter of life and death!”.
The other returned the letter.
“Allow me to offer it!” he said, descending45. “My man will take your orders. I can finish my journey by cab. I am—”
But Smith did not wait to learn whom he might be.
“Quick!” he cried to the stupefied chauffeur46—“You passed a car a minute ago—yonder. Can you overtake it?”
“I can try, sir, if I don’t lose her track.”
Smith leaped in, pulling me after him.
“Do it!” he snapped. “There are no speed limits for me. Thanks! Goodnight, sir!”
We were off! The car swung around and the chase commenced.
One last glimpse I had of the man we had dispossessed, standing47 alone by the roadside, and at ever increasing speed, we leaped away in the track of Eltham’s captors.
Smith was too highly excited for ordinary conversation, but he threw out short, staccato remarks.
“I have followed Fu-Manchu from Hongkong,” he jerked. “Lost him at Suez. He got here a boat ahead of me. Eltham has been corresponding with some mandarin48 up-country. Knew that. Came straight to you. Only got in this evening. He—Fu-Manchu—has been sent here to get Eltham. My God! and he has him! He will question him! The interior of China—a seething49 pot, Petrie! They had to stop the leakage50 of information. He is here for that.”
The car pulled up with a jerk that pitched me out of my seat, and the chauffeur leaped to the road and ran ahead. Smith was out in a trice, as the man, who had run up to a constable51, came racing back.
“Jump in, sir—jump in!” he cried, his eyes bright with the lust52 of the chase; “they are making for Battersea!”
And we were off again.
Through the empty streets we roared on. A place of gasometers and desolate53 waste lots slipped behind and we were in a narrow way where gates of yards and a few lowly houses faced upon a prospect54 of high blank wall.
“Thames on our right,” said Smith, peering ahead. “His rathole is by the river as usual. Hi!”—he grabbed up the speaking-tube—“Stop! Stop!”
The limousine swung in to the narrow sidewalk, and pulled up close by a yard gate. I, too, had seen our quarry—a long, low bodied car, showing no inside lights. It had turned the next corner, where a street lamp shone greenly, not a hundred yards ahead.
Smith leaped out, and I followed him.
“That must be a cul de sac,” he said, and turned to the eager-eyed chauffeur. “Run back to that last turning,” he ordered, “and wait there, out of sight. Bring the car up when you hear a police-whistle.”
The man looked disappointed, but did not question the order. As he began to back away, Smith grasped me by the arm and drew me forward.
“We must get to that corner,” he said, “and see where the car stands, without showing ourselves.”
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收听单词发音
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1
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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lobe
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| n.耳垂，（肺，肝等的）叶 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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incongruity
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| n.不协调，不一致 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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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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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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22
reclaimed
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| adj.再生的；翻造的；收复的；回收的v.开拓( reclaim的过去式和过去分词 )；要求收回；从废料中回收（有用的材料）；挽救 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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imprints
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| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
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converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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26
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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vaulting
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| n.（天花板或屋顶的）拱形结构 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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sprint
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| n.短距离赛跑；vi. 奋力而跑，冲刺；vt.全速跑过 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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33
dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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34
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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38
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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limousine
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| n.豪华轿车 | |
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41
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
perilously
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| adv.充满危险地，危机四伏地 | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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44
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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45
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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46
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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47
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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48
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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49
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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50
leakage
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| n.漏，泄漏；泄漏物；漏出量 | |
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51
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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52
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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53
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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54
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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