IPhilip Lombard had the habit of waking at daybreak. He did so on thisparticular morning. He raised himself on an elbow and listened. The windhad somewhat abated1 but was still blowing. He could hear no sound ofrain…
At eight o’clock the wind was blowing more strongly, but Lombard didnot hear it. He was asleep again.
At nine-thirty he was sitting on the edge of his bed looking at his watch.
He put it to his ear. Then his lips drew back from his teeth in that curiouswolf-like smile characteristic of the man.
He said very softly:
‘I think the time has come to do something about this.’
At twenty- five minutes to ten he was tapping on the closed door ofBlore’s room.
The latter opened it cautiously. His hair was tousled and his eyes werestill dim with sleep.
Philip Lombard said affably:
‘Sleeping the clock round? Well, shows you’ve got an easy conscience.’
Blore said shortly:
‘What’s the matter?’
Lombard answered:
‘Anybody called you—or brought you any tea? Do you know what timeit is?’
Blore looked over his shoulder at a small travelling clock by his bedside.
He said:
‘Twenty-five to ten. Wouldn’t have believed I could have slept like that.
Where’s Rogers?’
Philip Lombard said:
‘It’s a case of echo answers where.’
‘What d’you mean?’ asked the other sharply.
Lombard said:
‘I mean that Rogers is missing. He isn’t in his room or anywhere else.
And there’s no kettle on and the kitchen fire isn’t even lit.’
Blore swore under his breath. He said:
‘Where the devil can he be? Out on the island somewhere? Wait till I getsome clothes on. See if the others know anything.’
Philip Lombard nodded. He moved along the line of closed doors.
He found Armstrong up and nearly dressed. Mr Justice Wargrave, likeBlore, had to be roused from sleep. Vera Claythorne was dressed. EmilyBrent’s room was empty.
The little party moved through the house. Rogers’ room, as Philip Lom-bard had already ascertained2, was untenanted. The bed had been slept in,and his razor and sponge and soap were wet.
Lombard said:
‘He got up all right.’
Vera said in a low voice which she tried to make firm and assured:
‘You don’t think he’s—hiding somewhere—waiting for us?’
Lombard said:
‘My dear girl, I’m prepared to think anything of anyone! My advice isthat we keep together until we find him.’
Armstrong said:
‘He must be out on the island somewhere.’
Blore, who had joined them, dressed, but still unshaved, said:
‘Where’s Miss Brent got to—that’s another mystery?’
But as they arrived in the hall, Emily Brent came in through the frontdoor. She had on a mackintosh. She said:
‘The sea is as high as ever. I shouldn’t think any boat could put outtoday.’
Blore said:
‘Have you been wandering about the island alone, Miss Brent? Don’t yourealize that that’s an exceedingly foolish thing to do?’
Emily Brent said:
‘I assure you, Mr Blore, that I kept an extremely sharp look out.’
Blore grunted3. He said:
‘Seen anything of Rogers?’
Miss Brent’s eyebrows4 rose.
‘Rogers? No, I haven’t seen him this morning. Why?’
Mr Justice Wargrave, shaved, dressed and with his false teeth in posi-tion, came down the stairs. He moved to the open dining-room door. Hesaid:
‘Ha, laid the table for breakfast, I see.’
Lombard said:
‘He might have done that last night.’
They all moved inside the room, looking at the neatly5 set plates and cut-lery. At the row of cups on the sideboard. At the felt mats placed ready forthe coffee urn6.
It was Vera who saw it first. She caught the judge’s arm and the grip ofher athletic7 fingers made the old gentleman wince8.
She cried out:
‘The soldiers! Look!’
There were only six china figures in the middle of the table.
II
They found him shortly afterwards.
He was in the little wash-house across the yard. He had been choppingsticks in preparation for lighting9 the kitchen fire. The small chopper wasstill in his hand. A bigger chopper, a heavy affair, was leaning against thedoor—the metal of it stained a dull brown. It corresponded only too wellwith the deep wound in the back of Rogers’ head…III
‘Perfectly clear,’ said Armstrong. ‘The murderer must have crept up be-hind him, swung the chopper once and brought it down on his head as hewas bending over.’
Blore was busy on the handle of the chopper and the flour sifter10 fromthe kitchen.
Mr Justice Wargrave asked:
‘Would it have needed great force, doctor?’
Armstrong said gravely:
‘A woman could have done it if that’s what you mean.’ He gave a quickglance round. Vera Claythorne and Emily Brent had retired11 to the kitchen.
‘The girl could have done it easily—she’s an athletic type. In appearanceMiss Brent is fragile-looking, but that type of woman has often a lot ofwiry strength. And you must remember that anyone who’s mentally un-hinged has a good deal of unsuspected strength.’
The judge nodded thoughtfully.
Blore rose to his knees with a sigh. He said:
‘No fingerprints12. Handle was wiped afterwards.’
A sound of laughter was heard—they turned sharply. Vera Claythornewas standing13 in the yard. She cried out in a high shrill14 voice, shaken withwild bursts of laughter:
‘Do they keep bees on this island? Tell me that. Where do we go forhoney? Ha! ha!’
They stared at her uncomprehendingly. It was as though the sane15 well-balanced girl had gone mad before their eyes. She went on in that high un-natural voice:
‘Don’t stare like that! As though you thought I was mad. It’s sane enoughwhat I’m asking. Bees, hives, bees! Oh, don’t you understand? Haven’t youread that idiotic16 rhyme? It’s up in all your bedrooms—put there for you tostudy! We might have come here straightaway if we’d had sense. Sevenlittle soldier boys chopping up sticks. And the next verse. I know the wholething by heart, I tell you! Six little soldier boys playing with a hive. Andthat’s why I’m asking—do they keep bees on this island?—isn’t it funny?—isn’t it damned funny…?’
She began laughing wildly again. Dr Armstrong strode forward. Heraised his hand and struck her a flat blow on the cheek.
She gasped17, hiccupped—and swallowed. She stood motionless a minute,then she said:
‘Thank you…I’m all right now.’
Her voice was once more calm and controlled—the voice of the efficientgames mistress.
She turned and went across the yard into the kitchen saying: ‘Miss Brentand I are getting you breakfast. Can you—bring some sticks to light thefire?’
The marks of the doctor’s hand stood out red on her cheek.
As she went into the kitchen Blore said:
‘Well, you dealt with that all right, doctor.’
Armstrong said apologetically:
‘Had to! We can’t cope with hysteria on the top of everything else.’
Philip Lombard said:
‘She’s not a hysterical18 type.’
Armstrong agreed.
‘Oh no. Good healthy sensible girl. Just the sudden shock. It might hap-pen to anybody.’
Rogers had chopped a certain amount of firewood before he had beenkilled. They gathered it up and took it into the kitchen. Vera and EmilyBrent were busy, Miss Brent was raking out the stove. Vera was cuttingthe rind off the bacon.
Emily Brent said:
‘Thank you. We’ll be as quick as we can—say half an hour to three-quar-ters. The kettle’s got to boil.’
IV
Ex-Inspector Blore said in a low hoarse19 voice to Philip Lombard:
‘Know what I’m thinking?’
Philip Lombard said:
‘As you’re just about to tell me, it’s not worth the trouble of guessing.’
Ex-Inspector Blore was an earnest man. A light touch was incompre-hensible to him. He went on heavily:
‘There was a case in America. Old gentleman and his wife—both killedwith an axe20. Middle of the morning. Nobody in the house but the daughterand the maid. Maid, it was proved, couldn’t have done it. Daughter was arespectable middle-aged21 spinster. Seemed incredible. So incredible thatthey acquitted22 her. But they never found any other explanation.’ Hepaused. ‘I thought of that when I saw the axe—and then when I went intothe kitchen and saw her there so neat and calm. Hadn’t turned a hair!
That girl, coming all over hysterical—well, that’s natural—the sort of thingyou’d expect—don’t you think so?’
Philip Lombard said laconically23:
‘It might be.’
Blore went on.
‘But the other! So neat and prim—wrapped up in that apron24—Mrs Ro-gers’ apron, I suppose—saying: “Breakfast will be ready in half an hour orso.” If you ask me that woman’s as mad as a hatter! Lots of elderly spin-sters go that way—I don’t mean go in for homicide on the grand scale, butgo queer in their heads. Unfortunately it’s taken her this way. Religiousmania—thinks she’s God’s instrument, something of that kind! She sits inher room, you know, reading her Bible.’
Philip Lombard sighed and said:
‘That’s hardly proof positive of an unbalanced mentality26, Blore.’
But Blore went on, ploddingly, perseveringly27:
‘And then she was out—in her mackintosh, said she’d been down to lookat the sea.’
The other shook his head.
He said:
‘Rogers was killed as he was chopping firewood—that is to say first thingwhen he got up. The Brent wouldn’t have needed to wander about outsidefor hours afterwards. If you ask me, the murderer of Rogers would takejolly good care to be rolled up in bed snoring.’
Blore said:
‘You’re missing the point, Mr Lombard. If the woman was innocentshe’d be too dead scared to go wandering about by herself. She’d only dothat if she knew that she had nothing to fear. That’s to say if she herself is thecriminal.’
Philip Lombard said:
‘That’s a good point…yes, I hadn’t thought of that.’
He added with a faint grin:
‘Glad you don’t still suspect me.’
Blore said rather shamefacedly:
‘I did start by thinking of you—that revolver—and the queer story youtold—or didn’t tell. But I’ve realized now that that was really a bit too ob-vious.’ He paused and said: ‘Hope you feel the same about me.’
Philip said thoughtfully:
‘I may be wrong, of course, but I can’t feel that you’ve got enough ima-gination for this job. All I can say is, if you’re the criminal, you’re adamned fine actor and I take my hat off to you.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Justbetween ourselves, Blore, and taking into account that we’ll probably bothbe a couple of stiffs before another day is out, you did indulge in that spotof perjury28, I suppose?’
Blore shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. He said at last:
‘Doesn’t seem to make much odds29 now. Oh well, here goes, Landor wasinnocent right enough. The gang had got me squared and between us wegot him put away for a stretch. Mind you, I wouldn’t admit this—’
‘If there were any witnesses,’ finished Lombard with a grin. ‘It’s justbetween you and me. Well, I hope you made a tidy bit out of it.’
‘Didn’t make what I should have done. Mean crowd, the Purcell gang. Igot my promotion30, though.’
‘And Landor got penal31 servitude and died in prison.’
‘I couldn’t know he was going to die, could I?’ demanded Blore.
‘No, that was your bad luck.’
‘Mine? His, you mean.’
‘Yours, too. Because, as a result of it, it looks as though your own life isgoing to be cut unpleasantly short.’
‘Me?’ Blore stared at him. ‘Do you think I’m going to go the way of Ro-gers and the rest of them? Not me! I’m watching out for myself prettycarefully, I can tell you.’
Lombard said:
‘Oh well — I’m not a betting man. And anyway if you were dead Iwouldn’t get paid.’
‘Look here, Mr Lombard, what do you mean?’
Philip Lombard showed his teeth. He said:
‘I mean, my dear Blore, that in my opinion you haven’t got a chance!’
‘What?’
‘Your lack of imagination is going to make you absolutely a sitting tar-get. A criminal of the imagination of U. N. Owen can make rings roundyou any time he—or she—wants to.’
Blore’s face went crimson32. He demanded angrily:
‘And what about you?’
Philip Lombard’s face went hard and dangerous.
He said:
‘I’ve a pretty good imagination of my own. I’ve been in tight places be-fore now and got out of them! I think—I won’t say more than that but Ithink I’ll get out of this one.’
VThe eggs were in the frying-pan. Vera, toasting bread, thought to herself:
‘Why did I make a hysterical fool of myself? That was a mistake. Keepcalm, my girl, keep calm.’
After all, she’d always prided herself on her level-headedness!
‘Miss Claythorne was wonderful—kept her head—started off swimmingafter Cyril at once.’
Why think of that now? All that was over—over…Cyril had disappearedlong before she got near the rock. She had felt the current take her, sweep-ing her out to sea. She had let herself go with it—swimming quietly, float-ing—till the boat arrived at last…
They had praised her courage and her sang-froid…But not Hugo. Hugo had just—looked at her…
God, how it hurt, even now, to think of Hugo…Where was he? What was he doing? Was he engaged—married?
Emily Brent said sharply:
‘Vera, that toast is burning.’
‘Oh sorry, Miss Brent, so it is. How stupid of me.’
Emily Brent lifted out the last egg from the sizzling fat.
Vera, putting a fresh piece of bread on the toasting fork, said curiously33:
‘You’re wonderfully calm, Miss Brent.’
Emily Brent said, pressing her lips together:
‘I was brought up to keep my head and never to make a fuss.’
Vera thought mechanically:
‘Repressed as a child…That accounts for a lot…’
She said:
‘Aren’t you afraid?’
She paused and then added:
‘Or don’t you mind dying?’
Dying! It was as though a sharp little gimlet had run into the solid con-gealed mess of Emily Brent’s brain. Dying? But she wasn’t going to die! Theothers would die—yes—but not she, Emily Brent. This girl didn’t under-stand! Emily wasn’t afraid, naturally—none of the Brents were afraid. Allher people were Service people. They faced death unflinchingly. They ledupright lives just as she, Emily Brent, had led an upright life…She hadnever done anything to be ashamed of…And so, naturally, she wasn’t goingto die…
‘The Lord is mindful of his own.’ ‘Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror bynight; nor for the arrow that flieth by day…’ It was daylight now—there wasno terror. ‘We shall none of us leave this island.’ Who had said that? GeneralMacarthur, of course, whose cousin had married Elsie MacPherson. Hehadn’t seemed to care. He had seemed—actually—to welcome the idea!
Wicked! Almost impious to feel that way. Some people thought so little ofdeath that they actually took their own lives. Beatrice Taylor…Last nightshe had dreamed of Beatrice—dreamt that she was outside pressing herface against the window and moaning, asking to be let in. But Emily Brenthadn’t wanted to let her in. Because, if she did, something terrible wouldhappen…
Emily came to herself with a start. That girl was looking at her verystrangely. She said in a brisk voice:
‘Everything’s ready, isn’t it? We’ll take the breakfast in.’
VI
Breakfast was a curious meal. Every one was very polite.
‘May I get you some more coffee, Miss Brent?’
‘Miss Claythorne, a slice of ham?’
‘Another piece of toast?’
Six people, all outwardly self-possessed and normal.
And within? Thoughts that ran round in a circle like squirrels in acage…
‘What next? What next? Who? Which?’
‘Would it work? I wonder. It’s worth trying. If there’s time. My God, ifthere’s time…’
‘Religious mania25, that’s the ticket…Looking at her, though, you can hardlybelieve it…Suppose I’m wrong…’
‘It’s crazy—everything’s crazy. I’m going crazy. Wool disappearing—redsilk curtains—it doesn’t make sense. I can’t get the hang of it…’
‘The damned fool, he believed every word I said to him. It was easy…I mustbe careful, though, very careful.’
‘Six of those little china figures…only six—how many will there be by to-night?…’
‘Who’ll have the last egg?’
‘Marmalade?’
‘Thanks, can I cut you some bread?’
Six people, behaving normally at breakfast…
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收听单词发音
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1
abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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ascertained
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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urn
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| n.（有座脚的）瓮；坟墓；骨灰瓮 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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8
wince
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| n.畏缩，退避，（因痛苦，苦恼等)面部肌肉抽动；v.畏缩，退缩，退避 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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sifter
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| n.（用于筛撒粉状食物的）筛具，撒粉器；滤器；罗圈；罗 | |
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11
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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fingerprints
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| n.指纹( fingerprint的名词复数 )v.指纹( fingerprint的第三人称单数 ) | |
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13
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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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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16
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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17
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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18
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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laconically
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| adv.简短地，简洁地 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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perseveringly
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| 坚定地 | |
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perjury
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| n.伪证；伪证罪 | |
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29
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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