It should have been a sensational1 announcement. Instead, it fell flat. Cal-gary had expected bewilderment, incredulous gladness struggling with in-comprehension, eager questions … There was none of that. There seemedonly wariness2 and suspicion. Gwenda Vaughan was frowning. Hesterstared at him with dilated3 eyes. Well, perhaps it was natural—such an an-nouncement was hard to take in all at once.
Leo Argyle said hesitantly:
“You mean, Dr. Calgary, that you agree with my attitude? You don’t feelhe was responsible for his actions?”
“I mean he didn’t do it! Can’t you take it in, man? He didn’t do it. Hecouldn’t have done it. But for the most extraordinary and unfortunatecombination of circumstances he could have proved that he was innocent.
I could have proved that he was innocent.”
“You?”
“I was the man in the car.”
He said it so simply that for the moment they did not take it in. Beforethey could recover themselves, there was an interruption. The dooropened and the woman with the homely4 face marched in. She spoke5 direc-tly and to the point.
“I hear as I am passing the door outside. This man is saying that Jackodid not kill Mrs. Argyle. Why does he say this? How does he know?”
Her face, which had been militant7 and fierce, suddenly seemed topucker.
“I must hear too,” she said piteously. “I cannot stay outside and notknow.”
“Of course not, Kirsty. You’re one of the family.” Leo Argyle introducedher. “Miss Lindstrom, Dr. Calgary. Dr. Calgary is saying the most incred-ible things.”
Calgary was puzzled by the Scottish name of Kirsty. Her English was ex-cellent but a faint foreign intonation8 remained.
She spoke accusingly to him.
“You should not come here and say things like that—upsetting people.
They have accepted tribulation9. Now you upset them by what you tell.
What happened was the will of God.”
He was repelled10 by the glib11 complacence of her statement. Possibly, hethought, she was one of those ghoulish people who positively12 welcome dis-aster. Well, she was going to be deprived of all that.
He spoke in a quick, dry voice.
“At five minutes to seven on that evening, I picked up a young man onthe main Redmyn to Drymouth road who was thumbing for a lift. I drovehim into Drymouth. We talked. He was, I thought, an engaging and like-able young man.”
“Jacko had great charm,” said Gwenda. “Everyone found him attractive.
It was his temper let him down. And he was crooked13, of course,” she ad-ded thoughtfully. “But people didn’t find that out for some time.”
Miss Lindstorm turned on her.
“You should not speak so when he is dead.”
Leo Argyle said with a faint asperity14:
“Please go on, Dr. Calgary. Why didn’t you come forward at the time?”
“Yes.” Hester’s voice sounded breathless. “Why did you skulk15 away fromit all? There were appeals in the paper—advertisements. How could yoube so selfish, so wicked—”
“Hester—Hester—” her father checked her. “Dr. Calgary is still telling ushis story.”
Calgary addressed the girl direct.
“I know only too well how you feel. I know what I feel myself—what Ishall always feel …” He pulled himself together and went on:
“To continue with my story: There was a lot of traffic on the roads thatevening. It was well after half past seven when I dropped the young man,whose name I did not know, in the middle of Drymouth. That, I under-stand, clears him completely, since the police are quite definite that thecrime was committed between seven and half past.”
“Yes,” said Hester. “But you—”
“Please be patient. To make you understand, I must go back a little. Ihad been staying in Drymouth for a couple of days in a friend’s flat. Thisfriend, a naval16 man, was at sea. He had also lent me his car which he keptin a private lockup. On this particular day, November the 9th, I was due toreturn to London. I decided18 to go up by the evening train and to spend theafternoon seeing an old nurse of whom our family were very fond andwho lived in a little cottage at Polgarth about forty miles west of Dry-mouth. I carried out my programme. Though very old and inclined towander in her mind, she recognized me and was very pleased to see me,and quite excited because she had read in the papers about my ‘going tothe Pole,’ as she put it. I stayed only a short time, so as not to tire her, andon leaving decided not to return direct to Drymouth along the coast roadas I had come, but instead to go north to Redmyn and see old Canon Peas-marsh, who has some very rare books in his library, including an earlytreatise on navigation from which I was anxious to copy a passage. Theold gentleman refuses to have the telephone which he regards as a deviceof the devil, and on a par17 with radio, television, cinema organs and jetplanes, so I had to take a chance of finding him at home. I was unlucky.
His house was shuttered and he was evidently away. I spent a little time inthe Cathedral, and then started back to Drymouth by the main road, thuscompleting the third side of a triangle. I had left myself comfortable timeto pick up my bag from the flat, return the car to its lockup, and catch mytrain.
“On the way, as I have told you, I picked up an unknown hitchhiker, andafter dropping him in the town, I carried out my own programme. Afterarrival at the station, I still had time in hand, and I went outside the sta-tion into the main street to get some cigarettes. As I crossed the road alorry came round a corner at high speed and knocked me down.
“According to the accounts of passers-by, I got up, apparently19 uninjuredand behaving quite normally. I said I was quite all right and that I had atrain to catch and hurried back to the station. When the train arrived atPaddington I was unconscious and taken by ambulance to hospital, whereI was found to be suffering from concussion—apparently this delayed ef-fect is not uncommon20.
“When I regained21 consciousness, some days later, I remembered noth-ing of the accident, or of coming to London. The last thing I could remem-ber was starting out to visit my old nurse at Polgarth. After that, a com-plete blank. I was reassured22 by being told that such an occurrence is quitecommon. There seemed no reason to believe that the missing hours in mylife were of any importance. Neither I myself, nor anyone else, had thefaintest idea that I had driven along the Redmyn—Drymouth road thatevening.
“There was only a very narrow margin23 of time before I was due to leaveEngland. I was kept in hospital, in absolute quiet, with no newspapers. Onleaving I drove straight to the airport to fly to Australia and to join up withthe Expedition. There was some doubt as to whether I was fit to go, butthis I overruled. I was far too busy with my preparations and anxieties totake any interest in reports of murders, and in any case excitement dieddown after the arrest, and by the time the case came to trial and was fullyreported, I was on my way to the Antarctic.”
He paused. They were listening to him with close attention.
“It was about a month ago, just after my return to England, that I madethe discovery. I wanted some old newspapers for packing specimens24. Mylandlady brought me up a pile of old papers out of her stokehold. Spread-ing one out on the table I saw the reproduced photograph of a young manwhose face seemed very familiar to me. I tried to remember where I hadmet him and who he was. I could not do so and yet, very strangely, I re-member holding a conversation with him—it had been about eels26. He hadbeen intrigued27 and fascinated by hearing the saga28 of an eel’s life. Butwhen? Where? I read the paragraph, read that this young man was JackArgyle, accused of murder, read that he had told the police that he hadbeen given a lift by a man in a black saloon car.
“And then, quite suddenly, that lost bit of my life came back. I hadpicked up this selfsame young man, and driven him into Drymouth, part-ing from him there, going back to the flat—crossing the street on foot tobuy my cigarettes. I remembered just a glimpse of the lorry as it hit me—after that, nothing until hospital. I still had no memory of going to the sta-tion and taking the train to London. I read and reread the paragraph. Thetrial was over a year ago, the case almost forgotten. ‘A young fellow whatdid his mother in,’ my landlady25 remembered vaguely29. ‘Don’t know whathappened—think they hanged him.’ I read up the files of the newspapersfor the appropriate dates, then I went to Marshall & Marshall, who hadbeen the lawyers for the defence. I learned that I was too late to free theunfortunate boy. He had died of pneumonia30 in prison. Though justicecould no longer be done to him, justice could be done to his memory. Iwent with Mr. Marshall to the police. The case is being laid before the Pub-lic Prosecutor31. Marshall has little doubt that he will refer it to the HomeSecretary.
“You will, of course, receive a full report from him. He has only delayedit because I was anxious to be the one who first acquainted you with thetruth. I felt that that was an ordeal32 it was my duty to go through. You un-derstand, I am sure, that I shall always feel a deep load of guilt33. If I hadbeen more careful crossing the street—” He broke off. “I understand thatyour feelings towards me can never be kindly34—though I am, technically,blameless—you, all of you, must blame me.”
Gwenda Vaughan said quickly, her voice warm and kindly:
“Of course we don’t blame you. It’s just—one of those things. Tragic35—in-credible—but there it is.”
Hester said:
“Did they believe you?”
He looked at her in surprise.
“The police—did they believe you? Why shouldn’t you be making it allup?”
He smiled a little in spite of himself.
“I’m a very reputable witness,” he said gently. “I have no axe36 to grind,and they have gone into my story very closely; medical evidence, variouscorroborating details from Drymouth. Oh, yes. Marshall was cautious, ofcourse, like all lawyers. He didn’t want to raise your hopes until he waspretty certain of success.”
Leo Argyle stirred in his chair and spoke for the first time.
“What exactly do you mean by success?”
“I apologize,” said Calgary quickly. “That is not a word that can rightlybe used. Your son was accused of a crime he did not commit, was tried forit, condemned—and died in prison. Justice has come too late for him. Butsuch justice as can be done, almost certainly will be done, and will be seento be done. The Home Secretary will probably advise the Queen that a freepardon should be granted.”
Hester laughed.
“A free pardon—for something he didn’t do?”
“I know. The terminology37 always seems unrealistic. But I understandthat the custom is for a question to be asked in the House, the reply towhich will make it clear that Jack6 Argyle did not commit the crime forwhich he was sentenced, and the newspapers will report that fact freely.”
He stopped. Nobody spoke. It had been, he supposed, a great shock tothem. But after all, a happy one.
He rose to his feet.
“I’m afraid,” he said uncertainly, “that there is nothing more that I cansay … To repeat how sorry I am, how unhappy about it all, to ask your for-giveness—all that you must already know only too well. The tragedy thatended his life, has darkened my own. But at least”—he spoke with plead-ing—“surely it means something—to know that he didn’t do this awfulthing—that his name—your name—will be cleared in the eyes of theworld …?”
If he hoped for a reply he did not get one.
Leo Argyle sat slumped38 in his chair. Gwenda’s eyes were on Leo’s face.
Hester sat staring ahead of her, her eyes wide and tragic. Miss Lindstromgrunted something under her breath and shook her head.
Calgary stood helplessly by the door, looking back at them.
It was Gwenda Vaughan who took charge of the situation. She came upto him and laid a hand on his arm, saying in a low voice:
“You’d better go now, Dr. Calgary. It’s been too much of a shock. Theymust have time to take it in.”
He nodded and went out. On the landing Miss Lindstrom joined him.
“I will let you out,” she said.
He was conscious, looking back before the door closed behind him, ofGwenda Vaughan slipping to her knees by Leo Argyle’s chair. It surprisedhim a little.
Facing him, on the landing, Miss Lindstrom stood like a Guardsman andspoke harshly.
“You cannot bring him back to life. So why bring it all back into theirminds? Till now, they were resigned. Now they will suffer. It is better, al-ways, to leave well alone.”
She spoke with displeasure.
“His memory must be cleared,” said Arthur Calgary.
“Fine sentiments! They are all very well. But you do not really think ofwhat it all means. Men, they never think.” She stamped her foot. “I lovethem all. I came here, to help Mrs. Argyle, in 1940—when she started herea war nursery—for children whose homes had been bombed. Nothing wastoo good for those children. Everything was done for them. That is nearlyeighteen years ago. And still, even after she is dead, I stay here—to lookafter them—to keep the house clean and comfortable, to see they get goodfood. I love them all—yes, I love them … and Jacko—he was no good! Ohyes, I loved him too. But—he was no good!”
She turned abruptly39 away. It seemed she had forgotten her offer toshow him out. Calgary descended40 the stairs slowly. As he was fumblingwith the front door which had a safety lock he did not understand, heheard light footsteps on the stairs. Hester came flying down them.
She unlatched the door and opened it. They stood looking at each other.
He understood less than ever why she faced him with that tragic re-proachful stare.
She said, only just breathing the words:
“Why did you come? Oh, why ever did you come?”
He looked at her helplessly.
“I don’t understand you. Don’t you want your brother’s name cleared?
Don’t you want him to have justice?”
“Oh, justice!” She threw the word at him.
He repeated: “I don’t understand….”
“Going on so about justice! What does it matter to Jacko now? He’s dead.
It’s not Jacko who matters. It’s us!”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not the guilty who matter. It’s the innocent.”
She caught his arm, digging her fingers into it.
“It’s we who matter. Don’t you see what you’ve done to us all?”
He stared at her.
Out of the darkness outside, a man’s figure loomed41 up.
“Dr. Calgary?” he said. “Your taxi’s here, sir. To drive you to Drymouth.”
“Oh—er—thank you.”
Calgary turned once more to Hester, but she had withdrawn42 into thehouse.
The front door banged.
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收听单词发音
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1
sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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wariness
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| n. 注意,小心 | |
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dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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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
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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7
militant
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| adj.激进的，好斗的；n.激进分子，斗士 | |
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intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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glib
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| adj.圆滑的，油嘴滑舌的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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13
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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asperity
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| n.粗鲁，艰苦 | |
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skulk
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| v.藏匿；潜行 | |
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naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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eels
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| abbr. 电子发射器定位系统（=electronic emitter location system） | |
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intrigued
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| adj.好奇的，被迷住了的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的过去式)；激起…的兴趣或好奇心；“intrigue”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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saga
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| n.(尤指中世纪北欧海盗的)故事，英雄传奇 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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pneumonia
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| n.肺炎 | |
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prosecutor
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| n.起诉人；检察官，公诉人 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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terminology
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| n.术语；专有名词 | |
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38
slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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39
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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41
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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42
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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