Lys sat up, murmuring half-sleepy, half-anxious questions.
"I don't know," I answered. "I am going out to see what it means."
"It is like the day they came to arrest you," Lys said, giving me a troubled look. But I kissed her and laughed at her until she smiled too. Then I flung on coat and cap and hurried down the stairs.
"Hello!" said I, "have you come to arrest me again? What the devil is all this fuss about, anyway?"
"We were telegraphed for an hour ago," said Durand briskly, "and for a sufficient reason, I think. Look there, Monsieur Darrel!"
"That's what I want to know, Monsieur Darrel. Max Fortin found it at daybreak. See, it's splashed all over the grass, too. A trail of it leads into your garden, across the flower beds to your very window, the one that opens from the morning room. There is another trail leading from this spot across the road to the cliffs, then to the gravel8 pit, and thence across the moor9 to the forest of Kerselec. We are going to mount in a minute and search the bosquets. Will you join us? Bon Dieu! but the fellow bled like an ox. Max Fortin says it's human blood, or I should not have believed it."
The little chemist of Quimperle came up at that moment, rubbing his glasses with a colored handkerchief.
"Yes, it is human blood," he said, "but one thing puzzles me: the corpuscles are yellow. I never saw any human blood before with yellow corpuscles. But your English Doctor Thompson asserts that he has——"
"Well, it's human blood, anyway—isn't it?" insisted Durand, impatiently.
"Ye-es," admitted Max Fortin.
"Then it's my business to trail it," said the big gendarme3, and he called his men and gave the order to mount.
"Did you hear anything last night?" asked Durand of me.
"I heard the rain. I wonder the rain did not wash away these traces."
"They must have come after the rain ceased. See this thick splash, how it lies over and weighs down the wet grass blades. Pah!"
"My theory," said the brigadier, "is this: Some of those Biribi fishermen, probably the Icelanders, got an extra glass of cognac into their hides and quarreled on the road. Some of them were slashed11, and staggered to your house. But there is only one trail, and yet—and yet, how could all that blood come from only one person? Well, the wounded man, let us say, staggered first to your house and then back here, and he wandered off, drunk and dying, God knows where. That's my theory."
"A very good one," said I calmly. "And you are going to trail him?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"At once. Will you come?"
"Not now. I'll gallop over by-and-bye. You are going to the edge of the Kerselec forest?"
"Yes; you will hear us calling. Are you coming, Max Fortin? And you, Le Bihan? Good; take the dog-cart."
The big gendarme tramped around the corner to the stable and presently returned mounted on a strong gray horse, his sabre shone on his saddle; his pale yellow and white facings were spotless. The little crowd of white-coiffed women with their children fell back as Durand touched spurs and clattered12 away followed by his two troopers. Soon after Le Bihan and Max Fortin also departed in the mayor's dingy13 dog-cart.
"In a quarter of an hour," I replied, and went back to the house.
When I opened the door of the morning room the death's-head moth15 was beating its strong wings against the window. For a second I hesitated, then walked over and opened the sash. The creature fluttered out, whirred over the flower beds a moment, then darted16 across the moorland toward the sea. I called the servants together and questioned them. Josephine, Catherine, Jean Marie Tregunc, not one of them had heard the slightest disturbance17 during the night. Then I told Jean Marie to saddle my horse, and while I was speaking Lys came down.
"Dearest," I began, going to her.
"You must tell me everything you know, Dick," she interrupted, looking me earnestly in the face.
"And you are going to ride—where, Dick?"
"Well, over to the edge of Kerselec forest. Durand and the mayor, and Max Fortin, have gone on, following a—a trail."
"What trail?"
"Some blood."
"Where did they find it?"
"Out in the road there." Lys crossed herself.
"Does it come near our house?"
"Yes."
"How near?"
"It comes up to the morning room window," said I, giving in.
Her hand on my arm grew heavy. "I dreamed last night——"
"So did I—" but I thought of the empty cartridges19 in my revolver, and stopped.
"I dreamed that you were in great danger, and I could not move hand or foot to save you; but you had your revolver, and I called out to you to fire——"
"I did fire!" I cried excitedly.
"You—you fired?"
I took her in my arms. "My darling," I said "something strange has happened—something that I cannot understand as yet. But, of course, there is an explanation. Last night I thought I fired at the Black Priest."
"Is that what you dreamed?"
"Yes, yes, that was it! I begged you to fire——"
"And I did."
Her heart was beating against my breast. I held her close in silence.
"Dick," she said at length, "perhaps you killed the—the thing."
"If it was human I did not miss," I answered grimly. "And it was human," I went on, pulling myself together, ashamed of having so nearly gone to pieces. "Of course it was human! The whole affair is plain enough. Not a drunken brawl, as Durand thinks; it was a drunken lout's practical joke, for which he has suffered. I suppose I must have filled him pretty full of bullets, and he has crawled away to die in Kerselec forest. It's a terrible affair; I'm sorry I fired so hastily; but that idiot Le Bihan and Max Fortin have been working on my nerves till I am as hysterical21 as a schoolgirl," I ended angrily.
"You fired—but the window glass was not shattered," said Lys in a low voice.
"Well, the window was open, then. And as for the—the rest—I've got nervous indigestion, and a doctor will settle the Black Priest for me, Lys."
I glanced out of the window at Tregunc waiting with my horse at the gate.
"Dearest, I think I had better go to join Durand and the others."
"I will go, too."
"Oh, no!"
"Yes, Dick."
"Don't, Lys."
"I shall suffer every moment you are away."
"The ride is too fatiguing22, and we can't tell what unpleasant sight you may come upon. Lys, you don't really think there is anything supernatural in this affair?"
"Dick," she answered gently, "I am a Bretonne." With both arms around my neck, my wife said, "Death is the gift of God. I do not fear it when we are together. But alone—oh, my husband, I should fear a God who could take you away from me!"
We kissed each other soberly, simply, like two children. Then Lys hurried away to change her gown, and I paced up and down the garden waiting for her.
She came, drawing on her slender gauntlets. I swung her into the saddle, gave a hasty order to Jean Marie, and mounted.
Now, to quail23 under thoughts of terror on a morning like this, with Lys in the saddle beside me, no matter what had happened or might happen was impossible. Moreover, Môme came sneaking24 after us. I asked Tregunc to catch him, for I was afraid he might be brained by our horses' hoofs25 if he followed, but the wily puppy dodged26 and bolted after Lys, who was trotting27 along the highroad. "Never mind," I thought; "if he's hit he'll live, for he has no brains to lose."
Lys was waiting for me in the road beside the Shrine28 of Our Lady of St. Gildas when I joined her. She crossed herself, I doffed29 my cap, then we shook out our bridles31 and galloped32 toward the forest of Kerselec.
We said very little as we rode. I always loved to watch Lys in the saddle. Her exquisite33 figure and lovely face were the incarnation of youth and grace; her curling hair glistened34 like threaded gold.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the spoiled puppy Môme come bounding cheerfully alongside, oblivious35 of our horses' heels. Our road swung close to the cliffs. A filthy36 cormorant37 rose from the black rocks and flapped heavily across our path. Lys's horse reared, but she pulled him down, and pointed at the bird with her riding crop.
"I see," said I; "it seems to be going our way. Curious to see a cormorant in a forest, isn't it?"
"It is a bad sign," said Lys. "You know the Morbihan proverb: 'When the cormorant turns from the sea, Death laughs in the forest, and wise woodsmen build boats.'"
"I wish," said I sincerely, "that there were fewer proverbs in Brittany."
We were in sight of the forest now; across the gorse I could see the sparkle of gendarmes' trappings, and the glitter of Le Bihan's silver-buttoned jacket. The hedge was low and we took it without difficulty, and trotted38 across the moor to where Le Bihan and Durand stood gesticulating.
They bowed ceremoniously to Lys as we rode up.
"The trail is horrible—it is a river," said the mayor in his squeaky voice. "Monsieur Darrel, I think perhaps madame would scarcely care to come any nearer."
"It is horrible!" said Durand, walking up beside me; "it looks as though a bleeding regiment39 had passed this way. The trail winds and winds about here in the thickets40; we lose it at times, but we always find it again. I can't understand how one man—no, nor twenty—could bleed like that!"
A halloo, answered by another, sounded from the depths of the forest.
"It's my men; they are following the trail," muttered the brigadier. "God alone knows what is at the end!"
"Shall we gallop back, Lys?" I asked.
"No; let us ride along the western edge of the woods and dismount. The sun is so hot now, and I should like to rest for a moment," she said.
"The western forest is clear of anything disagreeable," said Durand.
"Very well," I answered; "call me, Le Bihan, if you find anything."
Lys wheeled her mare42, and I followed across the springy heather, Môme trotting cheerfully in the rear.
We entered the sunny woods about a quarter of a kilometer from where we left Durand. I took Lys from her horse, flung both bridles over a limb, and, giving my wife my arm, aided her to a flat mossy rock which overhung a shallow brook43 gurgling among the beech44 trees. Lys sat down and drew off her gauntlets. Môme pushed his head into her lap, received an undeserved caress45, and came doubtfully toward me. I was weak enough to condone46 his offense47, but I made him lie down at my feet, greatly to his disgust.
I rested my head on Lys's knees, looking up at the sky through the crossed branches of the trees.
"I suppose I have killed him," I said. "It shocks me terribly, Lys."
"You could not have known, dear. He may have been a robber, and—if—not—did—have you ever fired your revolver since that day four years ago when the Red Admiral's son tried to kill you? But I know you have not."
"No," said I, wondering. "It's a fact, I have not. Why?"
"And don't you remember that I asked you to let me load it for you the day when Yves went off, swearing to kill you and his father?"
"Yes, I do remember. Well?"
"Well, I—I took the cartridges first to St. Gildas chapel48 and dipped them in holy water. You must not laugh, Dick," said Lys gently, laying her cool hands on my lips.
"Laugh, my darling!"
Overhead the October sky was pale amethyst49, and the sunlight burned like orange flame through the yellow leaves of beech and oak. Gnats50 and midges danced and wavered overhead; a spider dropped from a twig51 halfway52 to the ground and hung suspended on the end of his gossamer53 thread.
"Are you sleepy, dear?" asked Lys, bending over me.
"I am—a little; I scarcely slept two hours last night," I answered.
"You may sleep, if you wish," said Lys, and touched my eyes caressingly54.
"Is my head heavy on your knees?"
"No, Dick."
I was already in a half doze55; still I heard the brook babbling56 under the beeches57 and the humming of forest flies overhead. Presently even these were stilled.
The next thing I knew I was sitting bolt upright, my ears ringing with a scream, and I saw Lys cowering58 beside me, covering her white face with both hands.
As I sprang to my feet she cried again and clung to my knees. I saw my dog rush growling59 into a thicket41, then I heard him whimper, and he came backing out, whining60, ears flat, tail down. I stooped and disengaged Lys's hand.
"Don't go, Dick!" she cried. "O God, it's the Black Priest!"
In a moment I had leaped across the brook and pushed my way into the thicket. It was empty. I stared about me; I scanned every tree trunk, every bush. Suddenly I saw him. He was seated on a fallen log, his head resting in his hands, his rusty61 black robe gathered around him. For a moment my hair stirred under my cap; sweat started on forehead and cheek bone; then I recovered my reason, and understood that the man was human and was probably wounded to death. Ay, to death; for there at my feet, lay the wet trail of blood, over leaves and stones, down into the little hollow, across to the figure in black resting silently under the trees.
I saw that he could not escape even if he had the strength, for before him, almost at his very feet, lay a deep, shining swamp.
As I stepped forward my foot broke a twig. At the sound the figure started a little, then its head fell forward again. Its face was masked. Walking up to the man, I bade him tell where he was wounded. Durand and the others broke through the thicket at the same moment and hurried to my side.
"Who are you who hide a masked face in a priest's robe?" said the gendarme loudly.
There was no answer.
"See—see the stiff blood all over his robe," muttered Le Bihan to Fortin.
"He will not speak," said I.
"He may be too badly wounded," whispered Le Bihan.
"I saw him raise his head," I said, "my wife saw him creep up here."
Durand stepped forward and touched the figure.
"Speak!" he said.
"Speak!" quavered Fortin.
Durand waited a moment, then with a sudden upward movement he stripped off the mask and threw back the man's head. We were looking into the eye sockets62 of a skull63. Durand stood rigid64; the mayor shrieked65. The skeleton burst out from its rotting robes and collapsed66 on the ground before us. From between the staring ribs67 and the grinning teeth spurted68 a torrent69 of black blood, showering the shrinking grasses; then the thing shuddered70, and fell over into the black ooze71 of the bog72. Little bubbles of iridescent73 air appeared from the mud; the bones were slowly engulfed74, and, as the last fragments sank out of sight, up from the depths and along the bank crept a creature, shiny, shivering, quivering its wings.
It was a death's-head moth.
I wish I had time to tell you how Lys outgrew75 superstitions—for she never knew the truth about the affair, and she never will know, since she has promised not to read this book. I wish I might tell you about the king and his coronation, and how the coronation robe fitted. I wish that I were able to write how Yvonne and Herbert Stuart rode to a boar hunt in Quimperle, and how the hounds raced the quarry76 right through the town, overturning three gendarmes, the notary77, and an old woman. But I am becoming garrulous78 and Lys is calling me to come and hear the king say that he is sleepy. And his highness shall not be kept waiting.
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收听单词发音
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1
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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gendarmes
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| n.宪兵，警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
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gendarme
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| n.宪兵 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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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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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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clot
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| n.凝块；v.使凝成块 | |
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slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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12
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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moth
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| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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brawl
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| n.大声争吵，喧嚷；v.吵架，对骂 | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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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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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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fatiguing
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| a.使人劳累的 | |
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quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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29
doffed
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| v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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cormorant
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| n.鸬鹚，贪婪的人 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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40
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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42
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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43
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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45
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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46
condone
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| v.宽恕；原谅 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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49
amethyst
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| n.紫水晶 | |
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50
gnats
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| n.叮人小虫( gnat的名词复数 ) | |
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51
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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52
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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53
gossamer
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| n.薄纱，游丝 | |
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54
caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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55
doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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56
babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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57
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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58
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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60
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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63
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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68
spurted
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| （液体，火焰等）喷出，（使）涌出( spurt的过去式和过去分词 )； （短暂地）加速前进，冲刺 | |
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69
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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70
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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71
ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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72
bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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73
iridescent
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| adj.彩虹色的，闪色的 | |
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74
engulfed
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| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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outgrew
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去式 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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76
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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notary
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| n.公证人，公证员 | |
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garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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