The creaking of the oars5 sounded muffled6 and ghostly, and none of the men in the boat seemed to be inclined to converse7. Heading across stream they made for the unseen promontory8 of the Isle9 of Dogs. Navigation was suspended, and they reached midstream without seeing a ship's light. Then came the damp wind again to lift the fog, and ahead of them they discerned one of the General Steam Navigation Company's boats awaiting an opportunity to make her dock at the head of Deptford Creek10. The clamor of an ironworks on the Millwall shore burst loudly upon their ears, and away astern the lights of the Surrey Dock shone out once more. Hugging the bank they pursued a southerly course, and from Limehouse Reach crept down to Greenwich Reach.
Fog closed in upon them, a curtain obscuring both light and sound. When the breeze came again it had gathered force, and it drove the mist before it in wreathing banks, and brought to their ears a dull lowing and to their nostrils11 a farmyard odor from the cattle pens. Ghostly flames, leaping and falling, leaping and falling, showed where a gasworks lay on the Greenwich bank ahead.
Eastward12 swept the river now, and fresher blew the breeze. As they rounded the blunt point of the “Isle” the fog banks went swirling13 past them astern, and the lights on either shore showed clearly ahead. A ship's siren began to roar somewhere behind them. The steamer which they had passed was about to pursue her course.
Closer in-shore drew the boat, passing a series of wharves14, and beyond these a tract15 of waste, desolate16 bank very gloomy in the half light and apparently17 boasting no habitation of man. The activities of the Greenwich bank seemed remote, and the desolation of the Isle of Dogs very near, touching18 them intimately with its peculiar19 gloom.
A light sprang into view some little distance inland, notable because it shone lonely in an expanse of utter blackness. Kerry broke the long silence.
The police boat was pulled in under a rickety wooden structure, beneath which the Thames water whispered eerily21; and Kerry and Seton disembarked, mounting a short flight of slimy wooden steps and crossing a roughly planked place on to a shingly22 slope. Climbing this, they were on damp waste ground, pathless and uninviting.
“Dougal's is being watched,” said Kerry. “I think I told you?”
“Yes,” replied Seton. “But I have formed the opinion that the dope gang is too clever for the ordinary type of man. Sin Sin Wa is an instance of what I mean. Neither you nor I doubt that he is a receiver of drugs—perhaps the receiver; but where is our case? The only real link connecting him with the West-End habitue is his wife. And she has conveniently deserted23 him! We cannot possibly prove that she hasn't while he chooses to maintain that she has.”
“Have you visited the place before?”
“Some years ago. Unless there are any old hands on view tonight, I don't think I shall be spotted26.”
He wore a heavy and threadbare overcoat, which was several sizes too large for him, a muffler, and a weed cap—the outfit27 supplied by Seton Pasha; and he had a very vivid and unpleasant recollection of his appearance as viewed in his little pocket-mirror before leaving Seton's room. As they proceeded across the muddy wilderness28 towards the light which marked the site of Dougal's, they presented a picture of a sufficiently29 villainous pair.
The ground was irregular, and the path wound sinuously30 about mounds31 of rubbish; so that often the guiding light was lost, and they stumbled blindly among nondescript litter, which apparently represented the accumulation of centuries. But finally they turned a corner formed by a stack of rusty32 scrap33 iron, and found a long, low building before them. From a ground-floor window light streamed out upon the fragments of rubbish strewing34 the ground, from amid which sickly weeds uprose as if in defiance35 of nature's laws. Seton paused, and:
“What is Dougal's exactly?” he asked; “a public house?”
“No,” rapped Kerry. “It's a coffee-shop used by the dockers. You'll see when we get inside. The place never closes so far as I know, and if we made 'em close there would be a dock strike.”
He crossed and pushed open the swing door. As Seton entered at his heels, a babel of coarse voices struck upon his ears and he found himself in a superheated atmosphere suggestive of shag, stale spirits, and imperfectly washed humanity.
Dougal's proved to be a kind of hut of wood and corrugated36 iron, not unlike an army canteen. There were two counters, one at either end, and two large American stoves. Oil lamps hung from the beams, and the furniture was made up of trestle tables, rough wooden chairs, and empty barrels. Coarse, thick curtains covered all the windows but one. The counter further from the entrance was laden37 with articles of food, such as pies, tins of bully-beef, and “saveloys,” while the other was devoted38 to liquid refreshment39 in the form of ginger-beer and cider (or so the casks were conspicuously40 labelled), tea, coffee, and cocoa.
The place was uncomfortably crowded; the patrons congregating41 more especially around the two stoves. There were men who looked like dock laborers42, seamen44, and riverside loafers; lascars, Chinese, Arabs, and dagoes; and at the “solid” counter there presided a red-armed, brawny45 woman, fierce of mien46 and ready of tongue, while a huge Irishman, possessing a broken nose and deficient48 teeth, ruled the “liquid” department with a rod of iron and a flow of language which shocked even Kerry. This formidable ruffian, a retired49 warrior50 of the ring, was Dougal, said to be the strongest man from Tower Hill to the River Lea.
As they entered, several of the patrons glanced at them curiously51, but no one seemed to be particularly interested. Kerry wore his cap pulled well down over his fierce eyes, and had the collar of his topcoat turned up.
He looked about him, as if expecting to recognize someone; and as they made their way to Dougal's counter, a big fellow dressed in the manner of a dock laborer43 stepped up to the Chief Inspector52 and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Anybody here, Jervis?” he whispered.
“George Martin is at the bar. I've had the tip that he 'traffics.' You'll remember he figured in my last report, sir.”
Kerry nodded, and the trio elbowed their way to the counter. The pseudo-dock hand was a detective attached to Leman Street, and one who knew the night birds of East End London as few men outside their own circles knew them.
“Three coffees, Pat,” he cried, leaning across the shoulder of a heavy, red-headed fellow who lolled against the counter. “And two lumps of sugar in each.”
“To hell wid yer sugar!” roared Dougal, grasping three cups deftly55 in one hairy hand and filling them from a steaming urn3. “There's no more sugar tonight.”
“Not any brown sugar?” asked the customer.
“Yez can have one tayspoon of brown, and no more tonight,” cried Dougal.
He stooped rapidly below the counter, then pushed the three cups of coffee towards the detective. The latter tossed a shilling down, at which Dougal glared ferociously56.
“'Twas wid sugar ye said!” he roared.
A second shilling followed. Dougal swept both coins into a drawer and turned to another customer, who was also clamoring for coffee. Securing their cups with difficulty, for the red-headed man surlily refused to budge57, they retired to a comparatively quiet spot, and Seton tasted the hot beverage58.
“H'm,” he said. “Rum! Good rum, too!”
“It's a nice position for me,” snapped Kerry. “I don't think I would remind you that there's a police station actually on this blessed island. If there was a dive like Dougal's anywhere West it would be raided as a matter of course. But to shut Dougal's would be to raise hell. There are two laws in England, sir; one for Piccadilly and the other for the Isle of Dogs!” He sipped59 his coffee with appreciation60. Jervis looked about him cautiously, and:
“That's George—the red-headed hooligan against the counter,” he said. “He's been liquoring up pretty freely, and I shouldn't be surprised to find that he's got a job on tonight. He has a skiff beached below here, and I think he's waiting for the tide.”
“Good!” rapped Kerry. “Where can we find a boat?”
“Well,” Jervis smiled. “There are several lying there if you didn't come in an R.P. boat.”
“We did. But I'll dismiss it. We want a small boat.”
“Very good, sir. We shall have to pinch one!”
“That doesn't matter,” declared Kerry glancing at Seton with a sudden twinkle discernible in his steely eyes. “What do you say, sir?”
“I agree with you entirely,” replied Seton quietly. “We must find a boat, and lie off somewhere to watch for George. He should be worth following.”
“We'll be moving, then,” said the Leman Street detective. “It will be high tide in an hour.”
They finished their coffee as quickly as possible; the stuff was not far below boiling-point. Then Jervis returned the cups to the counter. “Good night, Pat!” he cried, and rejoined Seton and Kerry.
As they came out into the desolation of the scrap heaps, the last traces of fog had disappeared and a steady breeze came up the river, fresh and salty from the Nore. Jervis led them in a north-easterly direction, threading a way through pyramids of rubbish, until with the wind in their teeth they came out upon the river bank at a point where the shore shelved steeply downwards61. A number of boats lay on the shingle62.
“We're pretty well opposite Greenwich Marshes63,” said Jervis. “You can just see one of the big gasometers. The end boat is George's.”
“Have you searched it?” rapped Kerry, placing a fresh piece of chewing-gum between his teeth.
“I have, sir. Oh, he's too wise for that!”
“I propose,” said Seton briskly, “that we borrow one of the other boats and pull down stream to where that short pier juts64 out. We can hide behind it and watch for our man. I take it he'll be bound up-stream, and the tide will help us to follow him quietly.”
“Right,” said Kerry. “We'll take the small dinghy. It's big enough.”
He turned to Jervis.
“Nip across to the wooden stairs,” he directed, “and tell Inspector White to stand by, but to keep out of sight. If we've started before you return, go back and join him.”
“Very good, sir.”
Jervis turned and disappeared into the mazes65 of rubbish, as Seton and Kerry grasped the boat and ran it down into the rising tide. Kerry boarding, Seton thrust it out into the river and climbed in over the stern.
“Phew! The current drags like a tow-boat!” said Kerry.
They were being drawn66 rapidly up-stream. But as Kerry seized the oars and began to pull steadily67, this progress was checked. He could make little actual headway, however.
“The tide races round this bend like fury,” he said. “Bear on the oars, sir.”
Seton thereupon came to Kerry's assistance, and gradually the dinghy crept upon its course, until, below the little pier, they found a sheltered spot, where it was possible to run in and lie hidden. As they won this haven68:
“Quiet!” said Seton. “Don't move the oars. Look! We were only just in time!”
Immediately above them, where the boats were beached, a man was coming down the slope, carrying a hurricane lantern. As Kerry and Seton watched, the man raised the lantern and swung it to and fro.
“Watch!” whispered Seton. “He's signalling to the Greenwich bank!”
“There it is!” he said rapidly. “On the marshes!”
A speck70 of light in the darkness it showed, a distant moving lantern on the curtain of the night. Although few would have credited Kerry with the virtue71, he was a man of cultured imagination, and it seemed to him, as it seemed to Seton Pasha, that the dim light symbolized72 the life of the missing woman, of the woman who hovered73 between the gay world from which tragically74 she had vanished and some Chinese hell upon whose brink75 she hovered. Neither of the watchers was thinking of the crime and the criminal, of Sir Lucien Pyne or Kazmah, but of Mrs. Monte Irvin, mysterious victim of a mysterious tragedy. “Oh, Dan! ye must find her! ye must find her! Puir weak hairt—dinna ye ken47 how she is suffering!” Clairvoyantly76, to Kerry's ears was borne an echo of his wife's words.
“The traffic!” he whispered. “If we lose George Martin tonight we deserve to lose the case!”
“I agree, Chief Inspector,” said Seton quietly.
The grating sound made by a boat thrust out from a shingle beach came to their ears above the whispering of the tide. A ghostly figure in the dim light, George Martin clambered into his craft and took to the oars.
“If he's for the Greenwich bank,” said Seton grimly, “he has a stiff task.”
But for the Greenwich bank the boat was headed; and pulling mightily77 against the current, the man struck out into mid-stream. They watched him for some time, silently, noting how he fought against the tide, sturdily heading for the point at which the signal had shown. Then:
“What do you suggest?” asked Seton. “He may follow the Surrey bank up-stream.”
“I suggest,” said Kerry, “that we drift. Once in Limehouse Reach we'll hear him. There are no pleasure parties punting about that stretch.”
“Let us pull out, then. I propose that we wait for him at some convenient point between the West India Dock and Limehouse Basin.”
“Good,” rapped Kerry, thrusting the boat out into the fierce current. “You may have spent a long time in the East, sir, but you're fairly wise on the geography of the lower Thames.”
Gripped in the strongly running tide they were borne smoothly78 up-stream, using the oars merely for the purpose of steering79. The gloomy mystery of the London river claimed them and imposed silence upon them, until familiar landmarks80 told of the northern bend of the Thames, and the light above the Lavender Pond shone out upon the unctuously81 moving water.
Each pulling a scull they headed in for the left bank.
“There's a wharf82 ahead,” said Seton, looking back over his shoulder. “If we put in beside it we can wait there unobserved.”
“Good enough,” said Kerry.
They bent to the oars, stealing stroke by stroke out of the grip of the tide, and presently came to a tiny pool above the wharf structure, where it was possible to lie undisturbed by the eager current.
Those limitations which are common to all humanity and that guile83 which is peculiar to the Chinese veiled the fact from their ken that the deserted wharf, in whose shelter they lay, was at once the roof and the gateway84 of Sin Sin Wa's receiving office!
As the boat drew in to the bank, a Chinese boy who was standing85 on the wharf retired into the shadows. From a spot visible down-stream but invisible to the men in the boat, he signalled constantly with a hurricane lantern.
Three men from New Scotland Yard were watching the house of Sin Sin Wa, and Sin Sin Wa had given no sign of animation86 since, some hours earlier, he had extinguished his bedroom light. Yet George, drifting noiselessly up-stream, received a signal to the effect “police” while Seton Pasha and Chief Inspector Kerry lay below the biggest dope cache in London. Seton sometimes swore under his breath. Kerry chewed incessantly87. But George never came.
At that eerie88 hour of the night when all things living, from the lowest to the highest, nor excepting Mother Earth herself, grow chilled, when all Nature's perishable89 handiwork feels the touch of death—a wild, sudden cry rang out, a wailing90, sorrowful cry, that seemed to come from nowhere, from everywhere, from the bank, from the stream; that rose and fell and died sobbing91 into the hushed whisper of the tide.
Seton's hand fastened like a vise on to Kerry's shoulder, and:
“Merciful God!” he whispered; “what was it? Who was it?”
“If it wasn't a spirit it was a woman,” replied Kerry hoarsely92; “and a woman very near to her end.”
“Kerry!”—Seton Pasha had dropped all formality—“Kerry—if it calls for all the men that Scotland Yard can muster93, we must search every building, down to the smallest rathole in the floor, on this bank—and do it by dawn!”
“We'll do it,” rapped Kerry.
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1
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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urn
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| n.（有座脚的）瓮；坟墓；骨灰瓮 | |
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stratum
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| n.地层，社会阶层 | |
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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6
muffled
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| 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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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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promontory
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| n.海角；岬 | |
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isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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13
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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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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17
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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eerily
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| adv.引起神秘感或害怕地 | |
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shingly
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| adj.小石子多的 | |
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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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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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sinuously
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| 弯曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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strewing
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| v.撒在…上( strew的现在分词 )；散落于；点缀；撒满 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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congregating
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的现在分词 ) | |
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laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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43
laborer
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| n.劳动者，劳工 | |
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44
seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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45
brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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48
deficient
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| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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50
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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51
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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52
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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53
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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54
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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55
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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56
ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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57
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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58
beverage
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| n.(水，酒等之外的)饮料 | |
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59
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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61
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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62
shingle
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| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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64
juts
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| v.（使）突出( jut的第三人称单数 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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65
mazes
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| 迷宫( maze的名词复数 )； 纷繁复杂的规则； 复杂难懂的细节； 迷宫图 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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symbolized
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| v.象征，作为…的象征( symbolize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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tragically
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| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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clairvoyantly
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| adj.透视的，有洞察力的n.透视者，千里眼的人 | |
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mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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unctuously
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| adv.油腻地，油腔滑调地；假惺惺 | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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guile
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| n.诈术 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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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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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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perishable
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| adj.（尤指食物）易腐的，易坏的 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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