IAfter breakfast, Emily Brent had suggested to Vera Claythorne that theyshould walk to the summit again and watch for the boat. Vera had acqui-esced.
The wind had freshened. Small white crests1 were appearing on the sea.
There were no fishing boats out—and no sign of the motor-boat.
The actual village of Sticklehaven could not be seen, only the hill aboveit, a jutting2 out cliff of red rock concealed3 the actual little bay.
Emily Brent said:
‘The man who brought us out yesterday seemed a dependable sort ofperson. It is really very odd that he should be so late this morning.’
Vera did not answer. She was fighting down a rising feeling of panic.
She said to herself angrily:
‘You must keep cool. This isn’t like you. You’ve always had excellentnerves.’
Aloud she said after a minute or two:
‘I wish he would come. I—I want to get away.’
Emily Brent said dryly:
‘I’ve no doubt we all do.’
Vera said:
‘It’s all so extraordinary…There seems no—no meaning in it all.’
The elderly woman beside her said briskly:
‘I’m very annoyed with myself for being so easily taken in. Really thatletter is absurd when one comes to examine it. But I had no doubts at thetime—none at all.’
Vera murmured mechanically: ‘I suppose not.’
‘One takes things for granted too much,’ said Emily Brent.
Vera drew a deep shuddering4 breath.
She said:
‘Do you really think—what you said at breakfast?’
‘Be a little more precise, my dear. To what in particular are you refer-ring?’
Vera said in a low voice:
‘Do you really think that Rogers and his wife did away with that oldlady?’
Emily Brent gazed thoughtfully out to sea. Then she said:
‘Personally, I am quite sure of it. What do you think?’
‘I don’t know what to think.’
Emily Brent said:
‘Everything goes to support the idea. The way the woman fainted. Andthe man dropped the coffee tray, remember. Then the way he spoke5 aboutit—it didn’t ring true. Oh, yes, I’m afraid they did it.’
Vera said:
‘The way she looked—scared of her own shadow! I’ve never seen a wo-man look so frightened…She must have been always haunted by it…’
Miss Brent murmured:
‘I remember a text that hung in my nursery as a child. “Be sure thy sinwill find thee out.” It’s very true, that. Be sure thy sin will find thee out.’
Vera scrambled6 to her feet. She said:
‘But, Miss Brent—Miss Brent—in that case—’
‘Yes, my dear?’
‘The others? What about the others?’
‘I don’t quite understand you.’
‘All the other accusations7—they—they weren’t true? But if it’s true aboutthe Rogerses—’ She stopped, unable to make her chaotic8 thought clear.
Emily Brent’s brow, which had been frowning perplexedly, cleared.
She said:
‘Ah, I understand you now. Well, there is that Mr Lombard. He admits tohaving abandoned twenty men to their deaths.’
Vera said: ‘They were only natives…’
Emily Brent said sharply:
‘Black or white, they are our brothers.’
Vera thought:
‘Our black brothers—our black brothers. Oh, I’m going to laugh. I’m hys-terical. I’m not myself…’
Emily Brent continued thoughtfully.
‘Of course, some of the other accusations were very far fetched and ri-diculous. Against the judge, for instance, who was only doing his duty inhis public capacity. And the ex-Scotland Yard man. My own case, too.’
She paused and then went on:
‘Naturally, considering the circumstances, I was not going to say any-thing last night. It was not a fit subject to discuss before gentlemen.’
‘No?’
Vera listened with interest. Miss Brent continued serenely10.
‘Beatrice Taylor was in service with me. Not a nice girl—as I found outtoo late. I was very much deceived in her. She had nice manners and wasvery clean and willing. I was very pleased with her. Of course, all that wasthe sheerest hypocrisy11! She was a loose girl with no morals. Disgusting! Itwas some time before I found out that she was what they call “in trouble”.’
She paused, her delicate nose wrinkling itself in distaste. ‘It was a greatshock to me. Her parents were decent folk, too, who had brought her upvery strictly12. I’m glad to say they did not condone13 her behaviour.’
Vera said, staring at Miss Brent:
‘What happened?’
‘Naturally I did not keep her an hour under my roof. No one shall eversay that I condoned14 immorality15.’
Vera said in a lower voice:
‘What happened—to her?’
Miss Brent said:
‘The abandoned creature, not content with having one sin on her consci-ence, committed a still graver sin. She took her own life.’
Vera whispered, horror-struck:
‘She killed herself?’
‘Yes, she threw herself into the river.’
Vera shivered.
She stared at the calm delicate profile of Miss Brent. She said:
‘What did you feel like when you knew she’d done that? Weren’t yousorry? Didn’t you blame yourself?’
Emily Brent drew herself up.
‘I? I had nothing with which to reproach myself.’
Vera said:
‘But if your—hardness—drove her to it.’
Emily Brent said sharply:
‘Her own action—her own sin—that was what drove her to it. If she hadbehaved like a decent modest young woman none of this would havehappened.’
She turned her face to Vera. There was no self-reproach, no uneasinessin those eyes. They were hard and self-righteous. Emily Brent sat on thesummit of Soldier Island, encased in her own armour16 of virtue17.
The little elderly spinster was no longer slightly ridiculous to Vera.
Suddenly—she was terrible.
II
Dr Armstrong came out of the dining-room and once more came out onthe terrace.
The judge was sitting in a chair now, gazing placidly18 out to sea.
Lombard and Blore were over to the left, smoking but not talking.
As before, the doctor hesitated for a moment. His eye rested speculat-ively on Mr Justice Wargrave. He wanted to consult with someone. He wasconscious of the judge’s acute logical brain. But nevertheless, he wavered.
Mr Justice Wargrave might have a good brain but he was an elderly man.
At this juncture19, Armstrong felt what was needed was a man of action.
He made up his mind.
‘Lombard, can I speak to you for a minute?’
Philip started.
‘Of course.’
The two men left the terrace. They strolled down the slope towards thewater. When they were out of earshot Armstrong said:
‘I want a consultation20.’
Lombard’s eyebrows21 went up. He said:
‘My dear fellow, I’ve no medical knowledge.’
‘No, no, I mean as to the general situation.’
‘Oh, that’s different.’
Armstrong said:
‘Frankly, what do you think of the position?’
Lombard reflected a minute. Then he said:
‘It’s rather suggestive, isn’t it?’
‘What are your ideas on the subject of that woman? Do you acceptBlore’s theory?’
Philip puffed22 smoke into the air. He said:
‘It’s perfectly23 feasible—taken alone.’
‘Exactly.’
Armstrong’s tone sounded relieved. Philip Lombard was no fool.
The latter went on:
‘That is, accepting the premise24 that Mr and Mrs Rogers have successfullygot away with murder in their time. And I don’t see why they shouldn’t.
What do you think they did exactly? Poisoned the old lady?’
Armstrong said slowly:
‘It might be simpler than that. I asked Rogers this morning what thisMiss Brady had suffered from. His answer was enlightening. I don’t needto go into medical details, but in a certain form of cardiac trouble, amyl ni-trite is used. When an attack comes on an ampoule of amyl nitrite isbroken and it is inhaled25. If amyl nitrite were withheld—well, the conse-quences might easily be fatal.’
Philip Lombard said thoughtfully:
‘As simple as that. It must have been—rather tempting26.’
The doctor nodded.
‘Yes, no positive action. No arsenic27 to obtain and administer—nothingdefinite—just—negation! And Rogers hurried through the night to fetch adoctor and they both felt confident that no one could ever know.’
‘And even if any one knew, nothing could ever be proved against them,’
added Philip Lombard.
He frowned suddenly.
‘Of course—that explains a good deal.’
Armstrong said, puzzled:
‘I beg your pardon.’
Lombard said:
‘I mean — it explains Soldier Island. There are crimes that cannot bebrought home to their perpetrators. Instance the Rogerses’. Another in-stance, old Wargrave, who committed his murder strictly within the law.’
Armstrong said sharply: ‘You believe that story?’
Philip Lombard smiled.
‘Oh, yes, I believe it. Wargrave murdered Edward Seton all right,murdered him as surely as if he’d stuck a stiletto through him! But he wasclever enough to do it from the judge’s seat in wig28 and gown. So in the or-dinary way you can’t bring his little crime home to him.’
A sudden flash passed like lightning through Armstrong’s mind.
‘Murder in Hospital. Murder on the Operating-table. Safe—yes, safe ashouses!’
Philip Lombard was saying:
‘Hence—Mr Owen—hence—Soldier Island!’
Armstrong drew a deep breath.
‘Now we’re getting down to it. What’s the real purpose of getting us allhere?’
Philip Lombard said:
‘What do you think?’
Armstrong said abruptly29:
‘Let’s go back a minute to this woman’s death. What are the possible the-ories? Rogers killed her because he was afraid she would give the showaway. Second possibility: she lost her nerve and took an easy way out her-self.’
Philip Lombard said:
‘Suicide, eh?’
‘What do you say to that?’
Lombard said:
‘It could have been—yes—if it hadn’t been for Marston’s death. Two sui-cides within twelve hours is a little too much to swallow! And if you tellme that Anthony Marston, a young bull with no nerves and precious littlebrains, got the wind up over having mowed30 down a couple of kids and de-liberately put himself out of the way—well, the idea’s laughable! And any-way, how did he get hold of the stuff? From all I’ve ever heard, potassiumcyanide isn’t the kind of stuff you take about with you in your waistcoatpocket. But that’s your line of country.’
Armstrong said:
‘Nobody in their senses carries potassium cyanide. It might be done bysomeone who was going to take a wasps’ nest.’
‘The ardent31 gardener or landowner, in fact? Again, not Anthony Mar-ston. It strikes me that that cyanide is going to need a bit of explaining.
Either Anthony Marston meant to do away with himself before he camehere, and therefore came prepared—or else—’
Armstrong prompted him.
‘Or else?’
Philip Lombard grinned.
‘Why make me say it? When it’s on the tip of your own tongue. AnthonyMarston was murdered, of course.’
III
Dr Armstrong drew a deep breath.
‘And Mrs Rogers?’
Lombard said slowly:
‘I could believe in Anthony’s suicide (with difficulty) if it weren’t for MrsRogers. I could believe in Mrs Rogers’ suicide (easily) if it weren’t for An-thony Marston. I can believe that Rogers put his wife out of the way—if itwere not for the unexpected death of Anthony Marston. But what we needis a theory to explain two deaths following rapidly on each other.’
Armstrong said:
‘I can perhaps give you some help towards that theory.’
And he repeated the facts that Rogers had given him about the disap-pearance of the two little china figures.
Lombard said:
‘Yes, little china figures…There were certainly ten last night at dinner.
And now there are eight, you say?’
Dr Armstrong recited:
‘Ten little soldier boys going out to dine;
One went and choked himself and then there were Nine.
‘Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were Eight.’
The two men looked at each other. Philip Lombard grinned and flungaway his cigarette.
‘Fits too damned well to be a coincidence! Anthony Marston dies of as-phyxiation or choking last night after dinner, and Mother Rogers over-sleeps herself with a vengeance32.’
‘And therefore?’ said Armstrong.
Lombard took him up.
‘And therefore another kind of soldier. The Unknown Soldier! X! MrOwen! U. N. Owen! One Unknown Lunatic at Large!’
‘Ah!’ Armstrong breathed a sigh of relief. ‘You agree. But you see what itinvolves? Rogers swore that there was no one but ourselves and he andhis wife on the island.’
‘Rogers is wrong! Or possibly Rogers is lying!’
Armstrong shook his head.
‘I don’t think he’s lying. The man’s scared. He’s scared nearly out of hissenses.’
Philip Lombard nodded.
He said:
‘No motor-boat this morning. That fits in. Mr Owen’s little arrangementsagain to the fore9. Soldier Island is to be isolated33 until Mr Owen has fin-ished his job.’
Armstrong had gone pale. He said:
‘You realize—the man must be a raving34 maniac35!’
Philip Lombard said, and there was a new ring in his voice:
‘There’s one thing Mr Owen didn’t realize.’
‘What’s that?’
‘This island’s more or less a bare rock. We shall make short work ofsearching it. We’ll soon ferret out U. N. Owen, Esq.’
Dr Armstrong said warningly:
‘He’ll be dangerous.’
Philip Lombard laughed.
‘Dangerous? Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? I’ll be dangerous when Iget hold of him!’
He paused and said:
‘We’d better rope in Blore to help us. He’ll be a good man in a pinch. Bet-ter not tell the women. As for the others, the General’s ga-ga, I think, andold Wargrave’s forte36 is masterly inactivity. The three of us can attend tothis job.’
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1
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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2
jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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3
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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4
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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6
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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7
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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8
chaotic
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| adj.混沌的，一片混乱的，一团糟的 | |
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9
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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10
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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11
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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12
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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13
condone
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| v.宽恕；原谅 | |
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14
condoned
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| v.容忍，宽恕，原谅( condone的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
immorality
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| n. 不道德, 无道义 | |
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16
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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17
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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18
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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19
juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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20
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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21
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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22
puffed
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| 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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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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premise
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| n.前提；v.提论，预述 | |
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inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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27
arsenic
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| n.砒霜，砷；adj.砷的 | |
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28
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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30
mowed
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| v.刈，割( mow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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32
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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33
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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35
maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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forte
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| n.长处，擅长；adj.(音乐)强音的 | |
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