“Your tact7 has saved the situation, Petrie,” he snapped. “It failed you momentarily, though, when you proposed to me just now that we should muster8 the lascars for inspection9. Our game is to pretend that we know nothing—that we believe Karamaneh to have had a bad dream.”
“But, Smith,” I began—
“It would be useless, Petrie,” he interrupted me. “You cannot suppose that I overlooked the possibility of some creature of the doctor’s being among the lascars. I can assure you that not one of them answers to the description of the midnight assailant. From the girl’s account we have to look (discarding the idea of a revivified mummy) for a man of unusual height—and there’s no lascar of unusual height on board; and from the visible evidence, that he entered the stateroom through the porthole, we have to look for a man more than normally thin. In a word, the servant of Dr. Fu-Manchu who attempted the life of Karamaneh is either in hiding on the ship, or, if visible, is disguised.”
With his usual clarity of vision, Nayland Smith had visualized10 the facts of the case; I passed in mental survey each one of the passengers, and those of the crew whose appearances were familiar to me, with the result that I had to admit the justice of my friend’s conclusions. Smith began to pace the narrow strip of carpet between the dressing-table and the door. Suddenly he began again. “From our knowledge of Fu-Manchu and of the group surrounding him (and, don’t forget, surviving him)—we may further assume that the wireless11 message was no gratuitous12 piece of melodrama13, but that it was directed to a definite end. Let us endeavor to link up the chain a little. You occupy an upper deck berth14; so do I. Experience of the Chinaman has formed a habit in both of us; that of sleeping with closed windows. Your port was fastened and so was my own. Karamaneh is quartered on the main deck, and her brother’s stateroom opens into the same alleyway. Since the ship is in the Straits of Messina, and the glass set fair, the stewards16 have not closed the portholes nightly at present. We know that that of Karamaneh’s stateroom was open. Therefore, in any attempt upon our quartet, Karamaneh would automatically be selected for the victim, since failing you or myself she may be regarded as being the most obnoxious17 to Dr. Fu-Manchu.”
I nodded comprehendingly. Smith’s capacity for throwing the white light of reason into the darkest places often amazed me.
“You may have noticed,” he continued, “that Karamaneh’s room is directly below your own. In the event of any outcry, you would be sooner upon the scene than I should, for instance, because I sleep on the opposite side of the ship. This circumstance I take to be the explanation of the wireless message, which, because of its hesitancy (a piece of ingenuity18 very characteristic of the group), led to your being awakened19 and invited up to the Marconi deck; in short, it gave the would-be assassin a better chance of escaping before your arrival.”
I watched my friend in growing wonder. The strange events, seemingly having no link, took their places in the drama, and became well-ordered episodes in a plot that only a criminal genius could have devised. As I studied the keen, bronzed face, I realized to the full the stupendous mental power of Dr. Fu-Manchu, measuring it by the criterion of Nayland Smith’s. For the cunning Chinaman, in a sense, had foiled this brilliant man before me, whereby, if by nought20 else, I might know him a master of his evil art.
“I regard the episode,” continued Smith, “as a posthumous21 attempt of the doctor’s; a legacy22 of hate which may prove more disastrous23 than any attempt made upon us by Fu-Manchu in life. Some fiendish member of the murder group is on board the ship. We must, as always, meet guile24 with guile. There must be no appeal to the captain, no public examination of passengers and crew. One attempt has failed; I do not doubt that others will be made. At present, you will enact25 the role of physician-in-attendance upon Karamaneh, and will put it about for whom it may interest that a slight return of her nervous trouble is causing her to pass uneasy nights. I can safely leave this part of the case to you, I think?”
I nodded rapidly.
“I haven’t troubled to make inquiries26,” added Smith, “but I think it probable that the regulation respecting closed ports will come into operation immediately we have passed the Straits, or at any rate immediately there is any likelihood of bad weather.”
“You mean—”
“I mean that no alteration27 should be made in our habits. A second attempt along similar lines is to be apprehended—to-night. After that we may begin to look out for a new danger.”
As I entered the saloon for breakfast in the morning, I was subjected to solicitous29 inquiries from Mrs. Prior, the gossip of the ship. Her room adjoined Karamaneh’s and she had been one of the passengers aroused by the girl’s cries in the night. Strictly30 adhering to my role, I explained that my patient was threatened with a second nervous breakdown31, and was subject to vivid and disturbing dreams. One or two other inquiries I met in the same way, ere escaping to the corner table reserved to us.
That iron-bound code of conduct which rules the Anglo-Indian, in the first days of the voyage had threatened to ostracize32 Karamaneh and Aziz, by reason of the Eastern blood to which their brilliant but peculiar33 type of beauty bore witness. Smith’s attitude, however—and, in a Burmese commissioner34, it constituted something of a law—had done much to break down the barriers; the extraordinary beauty of the girl had done the rest. So that now, far from finding themselves shunned35, the society of Karamaneh and her romantic-looking brother was universally courted. The last inquiry36 that morning, respecting my interesting patient, came from the bishop37 of Damascus, a benevolent38 old gentleman whose ancestry39 was not wholly innocent of Oriental strains, and who sat at a table immediately behind me. As I settled down to my porridge, he turned his chair slightly and bent40 to my ear.
“Mrs. Prior tells me that your charming friend was disturbed last night,” he whispered. “She seems rather pale this morning; I sincerely trust that she is suffering no ill-effect.”
I swung around, with a smile. Owing to my carelessness, there was a slight collision, and the poor bishop, who had been invalided41 to England after typhoid, in order to undergo special treatment, suppressed an exclamation42 of pain, although his fine dark eyes gleamed kindly43 upon me through the pebbles44 of his gold-rimmed pince-nez.
Indeed, despite his Eastern blood, he might have posed for a Sadler picture, his small and refined features seeming out of place above the bulky body.
“Can you forgive my clumsiness,” I began—
His system was supercharged with typhoid bacilli, and, as sometimes occurs, the superfluous46 “bugs” had sought exit. He could only walk with the aid of two stout47 sticks, and bent very much at that. His left leg had been surgically48 scraped to the bone, and I appreciated the exquisite49 torture to which my awkwardness had subjected him. But he would entertain no apologies, pressing his inquiry respecting Karamaneh in the kindly manner which had made him so deservedly popular on board.
“Many thanks for your solicitude,” I said; “I have promised her sound repose50 to-night, and since my professional reputation is at stake, I shall see that she secures it.”
In short, we were in pleasant company, and the day passed happily enough and without notable event. Smith spent some considerable time with the chief officer, wandering about unfrequented parts of the ship. I learned later that he had explored the lascars’ quarters, the forecastle, the engine-room, and had even descended51 to the stokehold; but this was done so unostentatiously that it occasioned no comment.
With the approach of evening, in place of that physical contentment which usually heralds52 the dinner-hour, at sea, I experienced a fit of the seemingly causeless apprehension53 which too often in the past had harbingered the coming of grim events; which I had learnt to associate with the nearing presence of one of Fu-Manchu’s death-agents. In view of the facts, as I afterwards knew them to be, I cannot account for this.
Yet, in an unexpected manner, my forebodings were realized. That night I was destined54 to meet a sorrow surpassing any which my troubled life had known. Even now I experience great difficulty in relating the matters which befell, in speaking of the sense of irrevocable loss which came to me. Briefly55, then, at about ten minutes before the dining hour, whilst all the passengers, myself included, were below, dressing, a faint cry arose from somewhere aft on the upper deck—a cry which was swiftly taken up by other voices, so that presently a deck steward15 echoed it immediately outside my own stateroom:
“Man overboard! Man overboard!”
All my premonitions rallying in that one sickening moment, I sprang out on the deck, half dressed as I was, and leaping past the boat which swung nearly opposite my door, craned over the rail, looking astern.
For a long time I could detect nothing unusual. The engine-room telegraph was ringing—and the motion of the screws momentarily ceased; then, in response to further ringing, recommenced, but so as to jar the whole structure of the vessel56; whereby I knew that the engines were reversed. Peering intently into the wake of the ship, I was but dimly aware of the ever growing turmoil57 around me, of the swift mustering58 of a boat’s crew, of the shouted orders of the third-officer. Suddenly I saw it—the sight which was to haunt me for succeeding days and nights.
Half in the streak59 of the wake and half out of it, I perceived the sleeve of a white jacket, and, near to it, a soft felt hat. The sleeve rose up once into clear view, seemed to describe a half-circle in the air then sink back again into the glassy swell60 of the water. Only the hat remained floating upon the surface.
By the evidence of the white sleeve alone I might have remained unconvinced, although upon the voyage I had become familiar enough with the drill shooting-jacket, but the presence of the gray felt hat was almost conclusive61.
The man overboard was Nayland Smith!
I cannot hope, writing now, to convey in any words at my command, a sense, even remote, of the utter loneliness which in that dreadful moment closed coldly down upon me.
To spring overboard to the rescue was a natural impulse, but to have obeyed it would have been worse than quixotic. In the first place, the drowning man was close upon half a mile astern; in the second place, others had seen the hat and the white coat as clearly as I; among them the third-officer, standing62 upright in the stern of the boat—which, with commendable63 promptitude had already been swung into the water. The steamer was being put about, describing a wide arc around the little boat dancing on the deep blue rollers....
Of the next hour, I cannot bear to write at all. Long as I had known him, I was ignorant of my friend’s powers as a swimmer, but I judged that he must have been a poor one from the fact that he had sunk so rapidly in a calm sea. Except the hat, no trace of Nayland Smith remained when the boat got to the spot.
点击收听单词发音
1 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 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 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 pyjamas | |
n.(宽大的)睡衣裤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 hazy | |
adj.有薄雾的,朦胧的;不肯定的,模糊的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 charred | |
v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式);烧焦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 fixedly | |
adv.固定地;不屈地,坚定不移地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 tact | |
n.机敏,圆滑,得体 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 muster | |
v.集合,收集,鼓起,激起;n.集合,检阅,集合人员,点名册 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 inspection | |
n.检查,审查,检阅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 visualized | |
直观的,直视的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 wireless | |
adj.无线的;n.无线电 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 gratuitous | |
adj.无偿的,免费的;无缘无故的,不必要的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 melodrama | |
n.音乐剧;情节剧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 berth | |
n.卧铺,停泊地,锚位;v.使停泊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 steward | |
n.乘务员,服务员;看管人;膳食管理员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 stewards | |
(轮船、飞机等的)乘务员( steward的名词复数 ); (俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的)管理员; (大型活动的)组织者; (私人家中的)管家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 obnoxious | |
adj.极恼人的,讨人厌的,可憎的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 awakened | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 nought | |
n./adj.无,零 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 posthumous | |
adj.遗腹的;父亡后出生的;死后的,身后的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 legacy | |
n.遗产,遗赠;先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 disastrous | |
adj.灾难性的,造成灾害的;极坏的,很糟的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 guile | |
n.诈术 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 enact | |
vt.制定(法律);上演,扮演 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 alteration | |
n.变更,改变;蚀变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 fervently | |
adv.热烈地,热情地,强烈地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 solicitous | |
adj.热切的,挂念的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 breakdown | |
n.垮,衰竭;损坏,故障,倒塌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 ostracize | |
v.放逐,排斥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 commissioner | |
n.(政府厅、局、处等部门)专员,长官,委员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 shunned | |
v.避开,回避,避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 bishop | |
n.主教,(国际象棋)象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 benevolent | |
adj.仁慈的,乐善好施的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 ancestry | |
n.祖先,家世 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 invalided | |
使伤残(invalid的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 pebbles | |
[复数]鹅卵石; 沙砾; 卵石,小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 hue | |
n.色度;色调;样子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 superfluous | |
adj.过多的,过剩的,多余的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 surgically | |
adv. 外科手术上, 外科手术一般地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 repose | |
v.(使)休息;n.安息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 heralds | |
n.使者( herald的名词复数 );预报者;预兆;传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 );宣布(好或重要) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 briefly | |
adv.简单地,简短地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 turmoil | |
n.骚乱,混乱,动乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 mustering | |
v.集合,召集,集结(尤指部队)( muster的现在分词 );(自他人处)搜集某事物;聚集;激发 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 streak | |
n.条理,斑纹,倾向,少许,痕迹;v.加条纹,变成条纹,奔驰,快速移动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 conclusive | |
adj.最后的,结论的;确凿的,消除怀疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 commendable | |
adj.值得称赞的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |