IBlore was easily roped in. He expressed immediate1 agreement with theirarguments.
‘What you’ve said about those china figures, sir, makes all the differ-ence. That’s crazy, that is! There’s only one thing. You don’t think thisOwen’s idea might be to do the job by proxy2, as it were?’
‘Explain yourself, man.’
‘Well, I mean like this. After the racket last night this young Marstongets the wind up and poisons himself. And Rogers, he gets the wind up tooand bumps off his wife! All according to U.N.O’s plan.’
Armstrong shook his head. He stressed the point about the cyanide.
Blore agreed.
‘Yes, I’d forgotten that. Not a natural thing to be carrying about withyou. But how did it get into his drink, sir?’
Lombard said:
‘I’ve been thinking about that. Marston had several drinks that night.
Between the time he had his last one and the time he finished the one be-fore it, there was quite a gap. During that time his glass was lying about onsome table or other. I think—though I can’t be sure, it was on the littletable near the window. The window was open. Somebody could haveslipped a dose of the cyanide into the glass.’
Blore said unbelievingly:
‘Without our all seeing him, sir?’
Lombard said dryly:
‘We were all—rather concerned elsewhere.’
Armstrong said slowly:
‘That’s true. We’d all been attacked. We were walking about, movingabout the room. Arguing, indignant, intent on our own business. I think itcould have been done…’
Blore shrugged3 his shoulders.
‘Fact is, it must have been done! Now then, gentlemen, let’s make a start.
Nobody’s got a revolver, by any chance? I suppose that’s too much to hopefor.’
Lombard said:
‘I’ve got one.’ He patted his pocket.
Blore’s eyes opened very wide. He said in an over-casual tone:
‘Always carry that about with you, sir?’
Lombard said:
‘Usually. I’ve been in some tight places, you know.’
‘Oh,’ said Blore and added: ‘Well, you’ve probably never been in atighter place than you are today! If there’s a lunatic hiding on this island,he’s probably got a young arsenal4 on him—to say nothing of a knife ordagger or two.’
Armstrong coughed.
‘You may be wrong there, Blore. Many homicidal lunatics are very quietunassuming people. Delightful5 fellows.’
Blore said:
‘I don’t feel this one is going to be of that kind, Dr Armstrong.’
II
The three men started on their tour of the island.
It proved unexpectedly simple. On the north- west side, towards thecoast, the cliffs fell sheer to the sea below, their surface unbroken.
On the rest of the island there were no trees and very little cover. Thethree men worked carefully and methodically, beating up and down fromthe highest point to the water’s edge, narrowly scanning the least irregu-larity in the rock which might point to the entrance to a cave. But therewere no caves.
They came at last, skirting the water’s edge, to where General Macar-thur sat looking out to sea. It was very peaceful here with the lap of thewaves breaking over the rocks. The old man sat very upright, his eyesfixed on the horizon.
He paid no attention to the approach of the searchers. His oblivion ofthem made one at least faintly uncomfortable.
Blore thought to himself:
‘’Tisn’t natural—looks as though he’d gone into a trance or something.’
He cleared his throat and said in a would-be conversational7 tone:
‘Nice peaceful spot you’ve found for yourself, sir.’
The General frowned. He cast a quick look over his shoulder. He said:
‘There is so little time—so little time. I really must insist that no one dis-turbs me.’
Blore said genially8:
‘We won’t disturb you. We’re just making a tour of the island so tospeak. Just wondered, you know, if someone might be hiding on it.’
The General frowned and said:
‘You don’t understand—you don’t understand at all. Please go away.’
Blore retreated. He said, as he joined the other two:
‘He’s crazy…It’s no good talking to him.’
Lombard asked with some curiosity:
‘What did he say?’
Blore shrugged his shoulders.
‘Something about there being no time and that he didn’t want to be dis-turbed.’
Dr Armstrong frowned.
He murmured:
‘I wonder now…’
III
The search of the island was practically completed. The three men stoodon the highest point looking over towards the mainland. There were noboats out. The wind was freshening.
Lombard said:
‘No fishing boats out. There’s a storm coming. Damned nuisance youcan’t see the village from here. We could signal or do something.’
Blore said:
‘We might light a bonfire tonight.’
Lombard said, frowning:
‘The devil of it is that that’s all probably been provided for.’
‘In what way, sir?’
‘How do I know? Practical joke, perhaps. We’re to be marooned9 here, noattention is to be paid to signals, etc. Possibly the village has been toldthere’s a wager10 on. Some damn’ fool story anyway.’
Blore said dubiously11:
‘Think they’d swallow that?’
Lombard said dryly:
‘It’s easier of belief than the truth! If the village were told that the islandwas to be isolated12 until Mr Unknown Owen had quietly murdered all hisguests—do you think they’d believe that?’
Dr Armstrong said:
‘There are moments when I can’t believe it myself. And yet—’
Philip Lombard, his lips curling back from his teeth said:
‘And yet—that’s just it! You’ve said it, doctor!’
Blore was gazing down into the water.
He said:
‘Nobody could have clambered down here, I suppose?’
Armstrong shook his head.
‘I doubt it. It’s pretty sheer. And where could he hide?’
Blore said:
‘There might be a hole in the cliff. If we had a boat now, we could rowround the island.’
Lombard said:
‘If we had a boat, we’d all be halfway13 to the mainland by now!’
‘True enough, sir.’
Lombard said suddenly:
‘We can make sure of this cliff. There’s only one place where there couldbe a recess—just a little to the right below here. If you fellows can get holdof a rope, you can let me down to make sure.’
Blore said:
‘Might as well be sure. Though it seems absurd—on the face of it! I’ll seeif I can get hold of something.’
He started off briskly down to the house.
Lombard stared up at the sky. The clouds were beginning to mass them-selves together. The wind was increasing.
He shot a sideways look at Armstrong. He said:
‘You’re very silent, doctor. What are you thinking?’
Armstrong said slowly:
‘I was wondering exactly how mad old Macarthur was…’
IV
Vera had been restless all the morning. She had avoided Emily Brent witha kind of shuddering14 aversion.
Miss Brent herself had taken a chair just round the corner of the houseso as to be out of the wind. She sat there knitting.
Every time Vera thought of her she seemed to see a pale drowned facewith seaweed entangled15 in the hair…A face that had once been pretty—impudently pretty perhaps—and which was now beyond the reach of pityor terror.
And Emily Brent, placid16 and righteous, sat knitting.
On the main terrace, Mr Justice Wargrave sat huddled17 in a porter’schair. His head was poked18 down well into his neck.
When Vera looked at him, she saw a man standing19 in the dock—a youngman with fair hair and blue eyes and a bewildered frightened face. Ed-ward Seton. And in imagination she saw the judge’s old hands put theblack cap on his head and begin to pronounce sentence…After a while Vera strolled slowly down to the sea. She walked along to-wards the extreme end of the island where an oldman sat staring out tothe horizon.
General Macarthur stirred at her approach. His head turned—there wasa queer mixture of questioning and apprehension20 in his look. It startledher. He stared intently at her for a minute or two.
She thought to herself:
‘How queer. It’s almost as though he knew…’
He said:
‘Ah, it’s you! You’ve come…’
Vera sat down beside him. She said:
‘Do you like sitting here looking out to sea?’
He nodded his head gently.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It’s pleasant. It’s a good place, I think, to wait.’
‘To wait?’ said Vera sharply. ‘What are you waiting for?’
He said gently:
‘The end. But I think you know that, don’t you? It’s true, isn’t it? We’reall waiting for the end.’
She said unsteadily:
‘What do you mean?’
General Macarthur said gravely:
‘None of us are going to leave the island. That’s the plan. You know it, ofcourse, perfectly21. What, perhaps, you can’t understand is the relief!’
Vera said wonderingly:
‘The relief?’
He said:
‘Yes. Of course, you’re very young…you haven’t got to that yet. But itdoes come! The blessed relief when you know that you’ve done with it all—that you haven’t got to carry the burden any longer. You’ll feel that too,someday…’
Vera said hoarsely22:
‘I don’t understand you.’
Her fingers worked spasmodically. She felt suddenly afraid of this quietold soldier.
He said musingly23:
‘You see, I loved Leslie. I loved her very much…’
Vera said questioningly:
‘Was Leslie your wife?’
‘Yes, my wife…I loved her—and I was very proud of her. She was sopretty—and so gay.’
He was silent for a minute or two, then he said:
‘Yes, I loved Leslie. That’s why I did it.’
Vera said:
‘You mean—’ and paused.
General Macarthur nodded his head gently.
‘It’s not much good denying it now—not when we’re all going to die. Isent Richmond to his death. I suppose, in a way, it was murder. Curious.
Murder—and I’ve always been such a law-abiding man! But it didn’t seemlike that at the time. I had no regrets. “Serves him damned well right!”—that’s what I thought. But afterwards—’
In a hard voice, Vera said:
‘Well, afterwards?’
He shook his head vaguely24. He looked puzzled and a little distressed25.
‘I don’t know. I—don’t know. It was all different, you see. I don’t know ifLeslie ever guessed…I don’t think so. But, you see, I didn’t know about herany more. She’d gone far away where I couldn’t reach her. And then shedied—and I was alone…’
Vera said:
‘Alone—alone—’ and the echo of her voice came back to her from therocks.
General Macarthur said:
‘You’ll be glad, too, when the end comes.’
Vera got up. She said sharply:
‘I don’t know what you mean!’
He said:
‘I know, my child. I know…’
‘You don’t. You don’t understand at all…’
General Macarthur looked out to sea again. He seemed unconscious ofher presence behind him.
He said very gently and softly:
‘Leslie…?’
VWhen Blore returned from the house with a rope coiled over his arm, hefound Armstrong where he had left him staring down into the depths.
Blore said breathlessly:
‘Where’s Mr Lombard?’
Armstrong said carelessly:
‘Gone to test some theory or other. He’ll be back in a minute. Look here,Blore, I’m worried.’
‘I should say we were all worried.’
The doctor waved an impatient hand.
‘Of course—of course. I don’t mean it that way. I’m thinking of old Ma-carthur.’
‘What about him, sir?’
Dr Armstrong said grimly:
‘What we’re looking for is a madman. What price Macarthur?’
Blore said incredulously:
‘You mean he’s homicidal?’
Armstrong said doubtfully:
‘I shouldn’t have said so. Not for a minute. But, of course, I’m not a spe-cialist in mental diseases. I haven’t really had any conversation with him—I haven’t studied him from that point of view.’
Blore said doubtfully:
‘Ga-ga, yes! But I wouldn’t have said—’
Armstrong cut in with a slight effort as of a man who pulls himself to-gether.
‘You’re probably right! Damn it all, there must be someone hiding on theisland! Ah! here comes Lombard.’
They fastened the rope carefully.
Lombard said:
‘I’ll help myself all I can. Keep a lookout26 for a sudden strain on the rope.’
After a minute or two, while they stood together watching Lombard’sprogress, Blore said:
‘Climbs like a cat, doesn’t he?’
There was something odd in his voice.
Dr Armstrong said:
‘I should think he must have done some mountaineering in his time.’
‘Maybe.’
There was a silence and the ex-Inspector said:
‘Funny sort of cove6 altogether. D’you know what I think?’
‘What?’
‘He’s a wrong ’un!’
Armstrong said doubtfully:
‘In what way?’
Blore grunted27. Then he said:
‘I don’t know—exactly. But I wouldn’t trust him a yard.’
Dr Armstrong said:
‘I suppose he’s led an adventurous28 life.’
Blore said:
‘I bet some of his adventures have had to be kept pretty dark.’ Hepaused and then went on: ‘Did you happen to bring a revolver along withyou, doctor?’
Armstrong stared.
‘Me? Good Lord, no. Why should I?’
Blore said:
‘Why did Mr Lombard?’
Armstrong said doubtfully:
‘I suppose—habit.’
Blore snorted.
A sudden pull came on the rope. For some moments they had theirhands full. Presently, when the strain relaxed, Blore said:
‘There are habits and habits! Mr Lombard takes a revolver to out of theway places, right enough, and a primus and a sleeping-bag and a supply ofbug powder no doubt! But habit wouldn’t make him bring the whole outfitdown here! It’s only in books people carry revolvers around as a matter ofcourse.’
Dr Armstrong shook his head perplexedly.
They leaned over and watched Lombard’s progress. His search wasthorough and they could see at once that it was futile29. Presently he cameup over the edge of the cliff. He wiped the perspiration30 from his forehead.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘We’re up against it. It’s the house or nowhere.’
VI
The house was easily searched. They went through the few outbuildingsfirst and then turned their attention to the building itself. Mrs Rogers’ yardmeasure discovered in the kitchen dresser assisted them. But there wereno hidden spaces left unaccounted for. Everything was plain and straight-forward, a modern structure devoid31 of concealments. They went throughthe ground floor first. As they mounted to the bedroom floor, they sawthrough the landing window Rogers carrying out a tray of cocktails32 to theterrace.
Philip Lombard said lightly:
‘Wonderful animal, the good servant. Carries on with an impassivecountenance.’
Armstrong said appreciatively:
‘Rogers is a first-class butler, I’ll say that for him!’
Blore said:
‘His wife was a pretty good cook, too. That dinner—last night—’
They turned in to the first bedroom.
Five minutes later they faced each other on the landing. No one hiding—no possible hiding-place.
Blore said:
‘There’s a little stair here.’
Dr Armstrong said:
‘It leads up to the servants’ room.’
Blore said:
‘There must be a place under the roof—for cisterns33, water tank, etc. It’sthe best chance—and the only one!’
And it was then, as they stood there, that they heard the sound fromabove. A soft furtive34 footfall overhead.
They all heard it. Armstrong grasped Blore’s arm. Lombard held up anadmonitory finger.
‘Quiet—listen.’
It came again—someone moving softly, furtively35, overhead.
Armstrong whispered:
‘He’s actually in the bedroom itself. The room where Mrs Rogers’ bodyis.’
Blore whispered back:
‘Of course! Best hiding-place he could have chosen! Nobody likely to gothere. Now then—quiet as you can.’
They crept stealthily upstairs.
On the little landing outside the door of the bedroom they paused again.
Yes, someone was in the room. There was a faint creak from within.
Blore whispered:
‘Now.’
He flung open the door and rushed in, the other two close behind him.
Then all three stopped dead.
Rogers was in the room, his hands full of garments.
VII
Blore recovered himself first. He said:
‘Sorry—er—Rogers. Heard someone moving about in here, and thought—well—’
He stopped.
Rogers said:
‘I’m sorry, gentlemen. I was just moving my things. I take it there will beno objection if I take one of the vacant guest chambers36 on the floor below?
The smallest room.’
It was to Armstrong that he spoke37 and Armstrong replied:
‘Of course. Of course. Get on with it.’
He avoided looking at the sheeted figure lying on the bed.
Rogers said:
‘Thank you, sir.’
He went out of the room with his arm full of belongings38 and went downthe stairs to the floor below.
Armstrong moved over to the bed and, lifting the sheet, looked down onthe peaceful face of the dead woman. There was no fear there now. Justemptiness.
Armstrong said:
‘Wish I’d got my stuff here. I’d like to know what drug it was.’
Then he turned to the other two.
‘Let’s get finished. I feel it in my bones we’re not going to find anything.’
Blore was wrestling with the bolts of a low manhole.
He said:
‘That chap moves damned quietly. A minute or two ago we saw him inthe garden. None of us heard him come upstairs.’
Lombard said:
‘I suppose that’s why we assumed it must be a stranger moving about uphere.’
Blore disappeared into a cavernous darkness. Lombard pulled a torchfrom his pocket and followed.
Five minutes later three men stood on an upper landing and looked ateach other. They were dirty and festooned with cobwebs and their faceswere grim.
There was no one on the island but their eight selves.
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1
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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2
proxy
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| n.代理权，代表权；（对代理人的）委托书；代理人 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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4
arsenal
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| n.兵工厂，军械库 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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7
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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8
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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marooned
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| adj.被围困的；孤立无援的；无法脱身的 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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11
dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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12
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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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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14
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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15
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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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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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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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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hoarsely
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musingly
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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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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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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perspiration
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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cisterns
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| n.蓄水池，储水箱( cistern的名词复数 )；地下储水池 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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37
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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belongings
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