I am myself just as much evil as good, and my nation
is — And I say there is in fact no evil;
(Or if there is, I say it is just as important to you, to
the land, or to me, as anything else.)
Each is not for its own sake;
I say the whole earth, and all the stars in the sky are
for Religion’s sake.
None has ever adored or worshipped half enough;
None has begun to think how divine he himself is, and
how certain the future is. — WALT WHITMAN
I have heard what the Talkers were talking — the talk
Of the beginning and the end;
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
Chapter I
Concerning Yue–Laou and the Xin I know nothing more than you shall know. I am miserably5 anxious to clear the matter up. Perhaps what I write may save the United Stares Government money and lives, perhaps it may arouse the scientific world to action; at any rate it will put an end to the terrible suspense6 of two people. Certainty is better than suspense.
If the Government dares to disregard this warning and refuses to send a thoroughly7 equipped expedition at once, the people of the State may take swift vengeance8 on the whole region and leave a blackened devastated9 waste where to-day forest and flowering meadow land border the lake in the Cardinal10 Woods.
This much is true: Barris caught the “Shiner,” red handed, or rather yellow handed, for his pockets and boots and dirty fists were stuffed with lumps of gold. I say gold, advisedly. You may call it what you please. You also know how Barris was — but unless I begin at the beginning of my own experiences you will be none the wiser after all.
On the third of August of this present year I was standing12 in Tiffany’s, chatting with George Godfrey of the designing department. On the glass counter between us lay a coiled serpent, an exquisite13 specimen14 of chiselled15 gold.
“No,” replied Godfrey to my question, “it isn’t my work; I wish it was. Why, man, it’s a masterpiece!”
“Whose?” I asked . . . “Now I should be very glad to know also,” said Godfrey. “We bought it from an old jay who says he lives in the country somewhere about the Cardinal Woods. That’s near Starlit Lake, I believe —”
“Lake of the Stars?” I suggested.
“Some call it Starlit Lake — it’s all the same. Well, my rustic16 Reuben says that he represents the sculptor17 of this snake for all practical and business purposes. He got his price too. We hope he’ll bring us something more. We have sold this already to the Metropolitan18 Museum.”
I was leaning idly on the glass case, watching the keen eyes of the artist in precious metals as he stooped over the gold serpent.
“A masterpiece!” he muttered to himself fondling the glittering coil; “look at the texture19! whew!” But I was not looking at the serpent. Something was moving — crawling out of Godfrey’s coat pocket — the pocket nearest to me — something soft and yellow with crab20-like legs all covered with coarse yellow hair.
“What in Heaven’s name,” said I, “have you got in your pocket? It’s crawling out — it’s trying to creep up your coat, Godfrey!”
He turned quickly and dragged the creature out with his left hand.
I shrank back as he held the repulsive21 object dangling22 before me, and he laughed and placed it on the counter.
“Did you ever see anything like that?” he demanded.
“No,” said I truthfully, “and I hope I never shall again. What is it?”
“I don’t know. Ask them at the Natural History Museum — they can’t tell you. The Smithsonian is all at sea too. It is, I believe, the connecting link between a sea-urchin, a spider, and the devil. It looks venomous but I can’t find either fangs23 or mouth. Is it blind? These things may be eyes but they look as if they were painted. A Japanese sculptor might have produced such an impossible beast, but it is hard to believe that God did. It looks unfinished too. I have a mad idea that this creature is only one of the parts of some larger and more grotesque24 organism — it looks so lonely, so hopelessly dependent, so cursedly unfinished. I’m going to use it as a model. If I don’t out-Japanese the Japs my name isn’t Godfrey.”
The creature was moving slowly across the glass case towards me. I drew back.
“Godfrey,” I said, “I would execute a man who executed any such work as you propose. What do you want to perpetuate25 such a reptile26 for? I can stand the Japanese grotesque but I can’t stand that — spider —”
“It’s a crab.”
“Crab or spider or blind-worm — ugh! What do you want to do it for? It’s a nightmare — it’s unclean!”
I hated the thing. It was the first living creature that I had ever hated.
For some time I had noticed a damp acrid27 odour in the air, and Godfrey said it came from the reptile.
“Then kill it and bury it,” I said; “and by the way, where did it come from?”
“I don’t know that either,” laughed Godfrey; “I found it clinging to the box that this gold serpent was brought in. I suppose my old Reuben is responsible.”
“If the Cardinal Woods are the lurking28 places for things like this,” said I, “I am sorry that I am going to the Cardinal Woods.”
“Are you?” asked Godfrey; “for the shooting?”
“Yes, with Barris and Pierpont. Why don’t you kill that creature?”
“Go off on your shooting trip, and let me alone,” laughed Godfrey . . . I shuddered29 at the “crab,” and bade Godfrey good-bye until December.
That night, Pierpont, Barris, and I sat chatting in the smoking-car of the Quebec Express when the long train pulled out of the Grand Central Depot30. Old David had gone forward with the dogs; poor things, they hated to ride in the baggage car, but the Quebec and Northern road provides no sportsman’s cars, and David and the three Gordon setters were in for an uncomfortable night.
Except for Pierpont, Barris, and myself, the car was empty. Barris, trim, stout31, ruddy, and bronzed, sat drumming on the window ledge32, puffing33 a short fragrant34 pipe. His gun-case lay beside him on the floor.
“When I have white hair and years of discretion,” said Pierpont languidly, “I’ll not flirt35 with pretty serving-maids; will you, Roy?”
“No,” said I, looking at Barris.
“You mean the maid with the cap in the Pullman car?” asked Barris.
“Yes,” said Pierpont.
I smiled, for I had seen it also.
Barris twisted his crisp grey moustache, and yawned.
“You children had better be toddling36 off to bed,” he said. “That lady’s-maid is a member of the Secret Service.”
“Oh,” said Pierpont, “one of your colleagues?”
“You might present us, you know,” I said; “the journey is monotonous37.”
Barris had drawn38 a telegram from his pocket, and as he sat turning it over and over between his fingers he smiled. After a moment or two he handed it to Pierpont who read it with slightly raised eyebrows39.
“It’s rot — I suppose it’s cipher,” he said; “I see it’s signed by General Drummond —”
“Drummond, Chief of the Government Secret Service,” said Barris.
“Something so interesting,” replied Barris, “that I’m going to look into it myself —”
“And break up our shooting trio —”
“No. Do you want to hear about it? Do you, Billy Pierpont?”
“Yes,” replied that immaculate young man.
Barris rubbed the amber3 mouth-piece of his pipe on his handkerchief, cleared the stem with a bit of wire, puffed42 once or twice, and leaned back in his chair.
“Pierpont,” he said, “do you remember that evening at the United States Club when General Miles, General Drummond, and I were examining that gold nugget that Captain Mahan had? You examined it also, I believe.”
“I did,” said Pierpont.
“Was it gold?” asked Barris, drumming on the window.
“It was,” replied Pierpont.
“I saw it too,” said I; “of course, it was gold.”
“Professor La Grange saw it also,” said Barris; “he said it was gold.”
“Well?” said Pierpont.
“Well,” said Barris, “it was not gold.”
After a silence Pierpont asked what tests had been made.
“The usual tests,” replied Barris. “The United States Mint is satisfied that it is gold, so is every jeweller who has seen it. But it is not gold — and yet — it is gold.”
Pierpont and I exchanged glances.
“Now,” said I, “for Barris’ usual coup-de-théatre: what was the nugget?”
“Practically it was pure gold; but,” said Barris, enjoying the situation intensely, “really it was not gold. Pierpont, what is gold?”
“Gold’s an element, a metal —”
“Wrong! Billy Pierpont,” said Barris coolly.
“Gold was an element when I went to school,” said I.
“It has not been an element for two weeks,” said Barris; “and, except General Drummond, Professor La Grange, and myself, you two youngsters are the only people, except one, in the world who know it — or have known it.”
“Do you mean to say that gold is a composite metal?” said Pierpont slowly.
“I do. La Grange has made it. He produced a scale of pure gold day before yesterday. That nugget was manufactured gold.”
Could Barris be joking? Was this a colossal43 hoax44? I looked at Pierpont. He muttered something about that settling the silver question, and turned his head to Barris, but there was that in Barris’ face which forbade jesting, and Pierpont and I sat silently pondering.
“Don’t ask me how it’s made,” said Barris, quietly; “I don’t know. But I do know that somewhere in the region of the Cardinal Woods there is a gang of people who do know how gold is made, and who make it. You understand the danger this is to every civilized45 nation. It’s got to be stopped of course. Drummond and I have decided46 that I am the man to stop it. Wherever and whoever these people are — these gold-makers — they must be caught, every one of them —— caught or shot.”
“Or shot,” repeated Pierpont, who was owner of the Cross–Cut Gold Mine and found his income too small; “Professor La Grange will of course be prudent47; — science need not know things that would upset the world!”
“Little Willy,” said Barris laughing, “your income is safe.”
“I suppose,” said I, “some flaw in the nugget gave Professor La Grange the tip.”
“Exactly. He cut the flaw out before sending the nugget to be tested. He worked on the flaw and separated gold into its three elements.”
“He is a great man,” said Pierpont, “but he will be the greatest man in the world if he can keep his discovery to himself.”
“Who?” said Barris.
“Professor La Grange.”
“Professor La Grange was shot through the heart two hours ago,” replied Barris slowly.
点击收听单词发音
1 maker | |
n.制造者,制造商 | |
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2 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
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3 amber | |
n.琥珀;琥珀色;adj.琥珀制的 | |
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4 devout | |
adj.虔诚的,虔敬的,衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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5 miserably | |
adv.痛苦地;悲惨地;糟糕地;极度地 | |
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6 suspense | |
n.(对可能发生的事)紧张感,担心,挂虑 | |
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7 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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8 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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9 devastated | |
v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词);摧毁;毁灭;在感情上(精神上、财务上等)压垮adj.毁坏的;极为震惊的 | |
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10 cardinal | |
n.(天主教的)红衣主教;adj.首要的,基本的 | |
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11 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
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12 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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13 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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14 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
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15 chiselled | |
adj.凿过的,凿光的; (文章等)精心雕琢的v.凿,雕,镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
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16 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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17 sculptor | |
n.雕刻家,雕刻家 | |
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18 metropolitan | |
adj.大城市的,大都会的 | |
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19 texture | |
n.(织物)质地;(材料)构造;结构;肌理 | |
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20 crab | |
n.螃蟹,偏航,脾气乖戾的人,酸苹果;vi.捕蟹,偏航,发牢骚;vt.使偏航,发脾气 | |
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21 repulsive | |
adj.排斥的,使人反感的 | |
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22 dangling | |
悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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23 fangs | |
n.(尤指狗和狼的)长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 );(蛇的)毒牙;罐座 | |
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24 grotesque | |
adj.怪诞的,丑陋的;n.怪诞的图案,怪人(物) | |
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25 perpetuate | |
v.使永存,使永记不忘 | |
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26 reptile | |
n.爬行动物;两栖动物 | |
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27 acrid | |
adj.辛辣的,尖刻的,刻薄的 | |
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28 lurking | |
潜在 | |
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29 shuddered | |
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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30 depot | |
n.仓库,储藏处;公共汽车站;火车站 | |
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32 ledge | |
n.壁架,架状突出物;岩架,岩礁 | |
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33 puffing | |
v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 );喷着汽(或烟)移动;吹嘘;吹捧 | |
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34 fragrant | |
adj.芬香的,馥郁的,愉快的 | |
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35 flirt | |
v.调情,挑逗,调戏;n.调情者,卖俏者 | |
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36 toddling | |
v.(幼儿等)东倒西歪地走( toddle的现在分词 );蹒跚行走;溜达;散步 | |
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37 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
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38 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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39 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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40 enquired | |
打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 ); 询问; 问问题; 查问 | |
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41 lighting | |
n.照明,光线的明暗,舞台灯光 | |
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42 puffed | |
adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 );喷着汽(或烟)移动;吹嘘;吹捧 | |
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43 colossal | |
adj.异常的,庞大的 | |
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44 hoax | |
v.欺骗,哄骗,愚弄;n.愚弄人,恶作剧 | |
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45 civilized | |
a.有教养的,文雅的 | |
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46 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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47 prudent | |
adj.谨慎的,有远见的,精打细算的 | |
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