Part 1 Chapter 1 The Warning
"I am inclined to think--" said I.
"I should do so," Sherlock Holmes remarked impatiently.
I believe that I am one of the most long-suffering of mortals; but I'll admit that I was annoyed at the sardonic interruption. "Really, Holmes," said I severely, "you are a little trying at times."
He was too much absorbed with his own thoughts to give any immediate answer to my remonstrance. He leaned upon his hand, with his untasted breakfast before him, and he stared at the slip of paper which he had just drawn from its envelope. Then he took the envelope itself, held it up to the light, and very carefully studied both the exterior and the flap.
"It is Porlock's writing," said he thoughtfully. "I can hardly doubt that it is Porlock's writing, though I have seen it only twice before. The Greek e with the peculiar top flourish is distinctive. But if it is Porlock, then it must be something of the very first importance."
He was speaking to himself rather than to me; but my vexation disappeared in the interest which the words awakened.
"Who then is Porlock?" I asked.
"Porlock, Watson, is a nom-de-plume, a mere identification mark; but behind it lies a shifty and evasive personality. In a former letter he frankly informed me that the name was not his own, and defied me ever to trace him among the teeming millions of this great city. Porlock is important, not for himself, but for the great man with whom he is in touch. Picture to yourself the pilot fish with the shark, the jackal with the lion--anything that is insignificant in companionship with what is formidable: not only formidable, Watson, but sinister--in the highest degree sinister. That is where he comes within my purview. You have heard me speak of Professor Moriarty?"
"The famous scientific criminal, as famous among crooks as--"
"My blushes, Watson!" Holmes murmured in a deprecating voice.
"I was about to say, as he is unknown to the public."
"A touch! A distinct touch!" cried Holmes. "You are developing a certain unexpected vein of pawky humour, Watson, against which I must learn to guard myself. But in calling Moriarty a criminal you are uttering libel in the eyes of the law--and there lie the glory and the wonder of it! The greatest schemer of all time, the organizer of every deviltry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations--that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. Is he not the celebrated author of The Dynamics of an Asteroid, a book which ascends to such rarefied heights of pure mathematics that it is said that there was no man in the scientific press capable of criticizing it? Is this a man to traduce? Foul-mouthed doctor and slandered professor--such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson. But if I am spared by lesser men, our day will surely come."
"May I be there to see!" I exclaimed devoutly. "But you were speaking of this man Porlock."
"Ah, yes--the so-called Porlock is a link in the chain some little way from its great attachment. Porlock is not quite a sound link--between ourselves. He is the only flaw in that chain so far as I have been able to test it."
"But no chain is stronger than its weakest link."
"Exactly, my dear Watson! Hence the extreme importance of Porlock. Led on by some rudimentary aspirations towards right, and encouraged by the judicious stimulation of an occasional ten-pound note sent to him by devious methods, he has once or twice given me advance information which has been of value--that highest value which anticipates and prevents rather than avenges crime. I cannot doubt that, if we had the cipher, we should find that this communication is of the nature that I indicate."
Again Holmes flattened out the paper upon his unused plate. I rose and, leaning over him, stared down at the curious inscription, which ran as follows:
534 C2 13 127 36 31 4 17 21 41 DOUGLAS 109 293 5 37 BIRLSTONE 26 BIRLSTONE 9 47 171
"What do you make of it, Holmes?"
"It is obviously an attempt to convey secret information."
"But what is the use of a cipher message without the cipher?"
"In this instance, none at all."
"Why do you say 'in this instance'?"
"Because there are many ciphers which I would read as easily as I do the apocrypha of the agony column: such crude devices amuse the intelligence without fatiguing it. But this is different. It is clearly a reference to the words in a page of some book. Until I am told which page and which book I am powerless."
"But why 'Douglas' and 'Birlstone'?"
"Clearly because those are words which were not contained in the page in question."
"Then why has he not indicated the book?"
"Your native shrewdness, my dear Watson, that innate cunning which is the delight of your friends, would surely prevent you from inclosing cipher and message in the same envelope. Should it miscarry, you are undone. As it is, both have to go wrong before any harm comes from it. Our second post is now overdue, and I shall be surprised if it does not bring us either a further letter of explanation, or, as is more probable, the very volume to which these figures refer."
Holmes's calculation was fulfilled within a very few minutes by the appearance of Billy, the page, with the very letter which we were expecting.
"The same writing," remarked Holmes, as he opened the envelope, "and actually signed," he added in an exultant voice as he unfolded the epistle. "Come, we are getting on, Watson." His brow clouded, however, as he glanced over the contents.
"Dear me, this is very disappointing! I fear, Watson, that all our expectations come to nothing. I trust that the man Porlock will come to no harm.
"DEAR MR. HOLMES (he says):
"I will go no further in this matter. It is too dangerous--he suspects me. I can see that he suspects me. He came to me quite unexpectedly after I had actually addressed this envelope with the intention of sending you the key to the cipher. I was able to cover it up. If he had seen it, it would have gone hard with me. But I read suspicion in his eyes. Please burn the cipher message, which can now be of no use to you.
FRED PORLOCK."
Holmes sat for some little time twisting this letter between his fingers, and frowning, as he stared into the fire.
"After all," he said at last, "there may be nothing in it. It may be only his guilty conscience. Knowing himself to be a traitor, he may have read the accusation in the other's eyes."
"The other being, I presume, Professor Moriarty."
"No less! When any of that party talk about 'He' you know whom they mean. There is one predominant 'He' for all of them."
"But what can he do?"
"Hum! That's a large question. When you have one of the first brains of Europe up against you, and all the powers of darkness at his back, there are infinite possibilities. Anyhow, Friend Porlock is evidently scared out of his senses--kindly compare the writing in the note to that upon its envelope; which was done, he tells us, before this ill-omened visit. The one is clear and firm. The other hardly legible."
"Why did he write at all? Why did he not simply drop it?"
"Because he feared I would make some inquiry after him in that case, and possibly bring trouble on him."
"No doubt," said I. "Of course." I had picked up the original cipher message and was bending my brows over it. "It's pretty maddening to think that an important secret may lie here on this slip of paper, and that it is beyond human power to penetrate it."
Sherlock Holmes had pushed away his untasted breakfast and lit the unsavoury pipe which was the companion of his deepest meditations. "I wonder!" said he, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "Perhaps there are points which have escaped your Machiavellian intellect. Let us consider the problem in the light of pure reason. This man's reference is to a book. That is our point of departure."
"A somewhat vague one."
"Let us see then if we can narrow it down. As I focus my mind upon it, it seems rather less impenetrable. What indications have we as to this book?"
"None."
"Well, well, it is surely not quite so bad as that. The cipher message begins with a large 534, does it not? We may take it as a working hypothesis that 534 is the particular page to which the cipher refers. So our book has already become a LARGE book, which is surely something gained. What other indications have we as to the nature of this large book? The next sign is C2. What do you make of that, Watson?"
"Chapter the second, no doubt."
"Hardly that, Watson. You will, I am sure, agree with me that if the page be given, the number of the chapter is immaterial. Also that if page 534 finds us only in the second chapter, the length of the first one must have been really intolerable."
"Column!" I cried.
"Brilliant, Watson. You are scintillating this morning. If it is not column, then I am very much deceived. So now, you see, we begin to visualize a large book printed in double columns which are each of a considerable length, since one of the words is numbered in the document as the two hundred and ninety-third. Have we reached the limits of what reason can supply?"
"I fear that we have."
"Surely you do yourself an injustice. One more coruscation, my dear Watson--yet another brain-wave! Had the volume been an unusual one, he would have sent it to me. Instead of that, he had intended, before his plans were nipped, to send me the clue in this envelope. He says so in his note. This would seem to indicate that the book is one which he thought I would have no difficulty in finding for myself. He had it--and he imagined that I would have it, too. In short, Watson, it is a very common book."
"What you say certainly sounds plausible."
"So we have contracted our field of search to a large book, printed in double columns and in common use."
"The Bible!" I cried triumphantly.
"Good, Watson, good! But not, if I may say so, quite good enough! Even if I accepted the compliment for myself I could hardly name any volume which would be less likely to lie at the elbow of one of Moriarty's associates. Besides, the editions of Holy Writ are so numerous that he could hardly suppose that two copies would have the same pagination. This is clearly a book which is standardized. He knows for certain that his page 534 will exactly agree with my page 534."
"But very few books would correspond with that."
"Exactly. Therein lies our salvation. Our search is narrowed down to standardized books which anyone may be supposed to possess."
"Bradshaw!"
"There are difficulties, Watson. The vocabulary of Bradshaw is nervous and terse, but limited. The selection of words would hardly lend itself to the sending of general messages. We will eliminate Bradshaw. The dictionary is, I fear, inadmissible for the same reason. What then is left?"
"An almanac!"
"Excellent, Watson! I am very much mistaken if you have not touched the spot. An almanac! Let us consider the claims of Whitaker's Almanac. It is in common use. It has the requisite number of pages. It is in double column. Though reserved in its earlier vocabulary, it becomes, if I remember right, quite garrulous towards the end." He picked the volume from his desk. "Here is page 534, column two, a substantial block of print dealing, I perceive, with the trade and resources of British India. Jot down the words, Watson! Number thirteen is 'Mahratta.' Not, I fear, a very auspicious beginning. Number one hundred and twenty-seven is 'Government'; which at least makes sense, though somewhat irrelevant to ourselves and Professor Moriarty. Now let us try again. What does the Mahratta government do? Alas! the next word is 'pig's-bristles.' We are undone, my good Watson! It is finished!"
He had spoken in jesting vein, but the twitching of his bushy eyebrows bespoke his disappointment and irritation. I sat helpless and unhappy, staring into the fire. A long silence was broken by a sudden exclamation from Holmes, who dashed at a cupboard, from which he emerged with a second yellow-covered volume in his hand.
"We pay the price, Watson, for being too up-to-date!" he cried. "We are before our time, and suffer the usual penalties. Being the seventh of January, we have very properly laid in the new almanac. It is more than likely that Porlock took his message from the old one. No doubt he would have told us so had his letter of explanation been written. Now let us see what page 534 has in store for us. Number thirteen is 'There,' which is much more promising. Number one hundred and twenty-seven is 'is'--'There is' "--Holmes's eyes were gleaming with excitement, and his thin, nervous fingers twitched as he counted the words-- "'danger.' Ha! Ha! Capital! Put that down, Watson. 'There is danger--may--come--very--soon--one.' Then we have the name 'Douglas'--'rich--country--now--at--Birlstone--House--Birlstone-- confidence--is--pressing.' There, Watson! What do you think of pure reason and its fruit? If the green-grocer had such a thing as a laurel wreath, I should send Billy round for it."
I was staring at the strange message which I had scrawled, as he deciphered it, upon a sheet of foolscap on my knee.
"What a queer, scrambling way of expressing his meaning!" said I.
"On the contrary, he has done quite remarkably well," said Holmes. "When you search a single column for words with which to express your meaning, you can hardly expect to get everything you want. You are bound to leave something to the intelligence of your correspondent. The purport is perfectly clear. Some deviltry is intended against one Douglas, whoever he may be, residing as stated, a rich country gentleman. He is sure--'confidence' was as near as he could get to 'confident'--that it is pressing. There is our result--and a very workmanlike little bit of analysis it was!"
Holmes had the impersonal joy of the true artist in his better work, even as he mourned darkly when it fell below the high level to which he aspired. He was still chuckling over his success when Billy swung open the door and Inspector MacDonald of Scotland Yard was ushered into the room.
Those were the early days at the end of the '80's, when Alec MacDonald was far from having attained the national fame which he has now achieved. He was a young but trusted member of the detective force, who had distinguished himself in several cases which had been intrusted to him. His tall, bony figure gave promise of exceptional physical strength, while his great cranium and deep-set, lustrous eyes spoke no less clearly of the keen intelligence which twinkled out from behind his bushy eyebrows. He was a silent, precise man with a dour nature and a hard Aberdonian accent.
Twice already in his career had Holmes helped him to attain success, his own sole reward being the intellectual joy of the problem. For this reason the affection and respect of the Scotchman for his amateur colleague were profound, and he showed them by the frankness with which he consulted Holmes in every difficulty. Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius, and MacDonald had talent enough for his profession to enable him to perceive that there was no humiliation in seeking the assistance of one who already stood alone in Europe, both in his gifts and in his experience. Holmes was not prone to friendship, but he was tolerant of the big Scotchman, and smiled at the sight of him.
"You are an early bird, Mr. Mac," said he. "I wish you luck with your worm. I fear this means that there is some mischief afoot."
"If you said 'hope' instead of 'fear,' it would be nearer the truth, I'm thinking, Mr. Holmes," the inspector answered, with a knowing grin. "Well, maybe a wee nip would keep out the raw morning chill. No, I won't smoke, I thank you. I'll have to be pushing on my way; for the early hours of a case are the precious ones, as no man knows better than your own self. But--but--"
The inspector had stopped suddenly, and was staring with a look of absolute amazement at a paper upon the table. It was the sheet upon which I had scrawled the enigmatic message.
"Douglas!" he stammered. "Birlstone! What's this, Mr. Holmes? Man, it's witchcraft! Where in the name of all that is wonderful did you get those names?"
"It is a cipher that Dr. Watson and I have had occasion to solve. But why--what's amiss with the names?"
The inspector looked from one to the other of us in dazed astonishment. "Just this," said he, "that Mr. Douglas of Birlstone Manor House was horribly murdered last night!"
“我倒以为……"我说。
“我应当这样做，"福尔摩斯急躁地说。
我自信是一个极有耐性的人；可是，我得承认，他这样嘲笑地打断我的话，的确使我有点不快。因此我严肃地说：“福尔摩斯，说真的，你有时真叫人有点难堪啊。”
他全神贯注地沉思，没有即刻回答我的抗议。他一只手支着头，面前放着一口未尝的早餐，两眼凝视着刚从信封中抽出来的那张纸条，然后拿起信封 ，举到灯前，非常仔细地研究它的外观和封口。
“这是波尔洛克的笔迹，"他若有所思地说，“尽管我以前只见过两次波尔洛克的笔迹，我也毫不怀疑这小条就是他写的。希腊字母ε上端写成花体，这就是它的特色。不过，这要真是波尔洛克写的，那它就一定有极为重要的事了。”
他是在自言自语，而不是对我说的，可是这番话却引起了我的兴趣，使我的不快为之烟消云散。
“那么，波尔洛克是什么人呢？”
“华生，波尔洛克是个假名，它不过是一个人的身分符号而已；可是在它背后却是一个诡计多端、难以捉摸的人物。在前一封信里，他直言不讳地告诉我，这不是他的名字，并且公然向我指出，要想在这大都会的茫茫人海中去追踪他是徒劳无益的。波尔洛克之所以重要，并不在于他本身，而在于他所结交的那个大人物。你想想看，一条鲭鱼和一条鲨鱼，一只豺狼和一头狮子——总之，一个本身虽不是了不起的东西一旦和一个凶恶的怪物携起手来，那会怎么样呢？那怪物不仅凶恶，而且阴险至极。华生，据我看来，他就是这样一个怪物，你听说过有个莫里亚蒂教授吗？”
“那个著名的手段高超的罪犯，在贼党中的名声犹如……”
“别说外行话，华生，"福尔摩斯不赞成地嘟囔着。
“我是想说，犹如在公众中一样默默无闻。”
“妙！你真有过人的机灵！"福尔摩斯大声说道，“真没想到你说起话来也富有狡黠的幽默腔调呢。华生，这我可要小心提防着点呢。可是把莫里亚蒂叫做罪犯，从法律上讲，你却是公然诽谤——这正是奥妙之所在！他是古往今来最大的阴谋家，是一切恶行的总策划人，是黑社会的首脑，一个足以左右民族命运的智囊！他就是这样一个人。可是一般人对他却毫无怀疑，他从未受到任何指摘，他的善于处世为人和厌恶自我表现的风度又是那么令人钦佩。因此，就凭你说的这几句话，他就可以把你拖上法庭，罚你一年的年金去抵偿他的名誉损失。他不就是《小行星力学》这部书的驰名作者么？这部书上升到纯数学罕有的高度，据说科学界没有人能对它提出什么批评。这样的人，是可以中伤的么？信口雌黄的医生和受人诽谤的教授——这就是你们两人将分别得到的头衔！那可真是个天才呢，华生，可是，只要那些小爪牙弄不死我，我们就总有一天会得胜的。”
“但愿能看到这一天！"我热诚地欢呼道，“可是你刚才提到波尔洛克……”
“噢，不错，这个所谓的波尔洛克是整个链条中的一环，离它连接着的那个庞然大物并不远。波尔洛克不是十分坚固的一环——这只是咱俩之间这样说罢了。就我所能测到的来说，他是这个链条中唯一的薄弱环节。”
“可是一环薄弱，全局也不能坚固啊！”
“一点不错！我亲爱的华生。因此，波尔洛克就非常重要了。他还有点起码的正义感，我又偶尔暗地里送给他一张十镑的钞票，在这一点适当的鼓励下，他已经有一两次事先给我送来了有价值的消息，其所以很有价值，因为它能使我预见并防止某一罪行，而不是让我事后去惩办罪犯。我毫不怀疑，如果手头有密码，我们就能发现这正是我上面说过的那种信。”
福尔摩斯又把那张纸平铺在空盘子上，我站了起来，在他身后低头注视着那些稀奇古怪的文字，文字排列如下：
534　C2　13　127　36　31　4　17　21　41
DOUGLAS　109　293　5　37　BIRLSTONE
26　BIRLSTONE　9　47　171
“福尔摩斯，你从这些字能得出什么结论呢？”
“很明显，这是想用来传达秘密消息的。”
“可是没有密码本，密码信又有什么用呢？”
“在这种情况下，是完全没有用的。”
“为什么你说'在这种情况下'呢？”
“因为有许多密码，在我读起来，就象读报纸通告栏里的山海经一样容易。那些简单的东西对人的智力来讲，只能使人感到有趣，而不感到厌倦。可是这次就不同了，它显然指的是某本书中某页上的某些词。只要不告诉我是在哪本书的哪一页上，那我就无能为力了。”
“那为什么又要道格拉斯（DOUGLAS）和伯尔斯通（BIRLSTONE）两个字呢？”
“显然是因为这本书上没有那两个字。”
“那他为什么不指出是哪本书呢？”
“亲爱的华生，你有天赋的机智、生来的狡黠，使你的朋友们都感到高兴；就凭这点机智，你也不至于把密码信和密码本放在同一信封里。因为信件一旦投递错了，那你就败露了。象现在这样，只有两封信都出了差错，才能出乱子。我们的第二封信现在已经该到了，如果未来的那封信里不给我们送来解释的文字，或者更可能的是，查阅这些符号的原书，那才使我奇怪呢。”
果然不出福尔摩斯所料，过了几分钟，小仆人毕利进来了，送来了我们所期待的那封信。
“笔迹相同，"福尔摩斯打开信封时说，"并且竟然签了名，"当他展开信笺的时候，兴高采烈地接着说，“喂，华生，咱们有进展了。"可是他看完信的内容以后，双眉又紧锁起来。
"哎呀，这可太使人失望啦！华生，恐怕我们的期待都要变成泡影了。但愿波尔洛克这个人不会遭到不幸。
'亲爱的福尔摩斯先生：
这件事我不愿再干下去了。这太危险了，他怀疑我了。我看得出来他怀疑我了。当我写完通信地址，打算把密码索引送给你时，他完全意想不到地来了。幸亏我把它盖住了。要是他看到了的话，那对我就非常不利了。可是我从他目光里看出不信任的神色来，请你把上次寄去的密码信烧了吧，那封信现在对你没有用处了。
弗莱德•波尔洛克'”
福尔摩斯用手指搓弄着这封信，坐了一会儿，皱着眉头，凝视着壁炉。
“也许这并没有什么。也许只不过是他作贼心虚罢了。他自觉是贼党中的叛逆者，所以可能从那个人的眼光里看出了谴责的神色。"福尔摩斯终于说道。
“那个人，我想就是莫里亚蒂教授吧。”
“一点不差！他们那一伙人，不管谁只要一提到'他'，都知道指的是谁。他们全体只有一个发号施令的'他'。”
“可是他又能怎么样呢？”
“哼！这倒是个大问题。当有一个欧洲第一流的智囊在与你作对，而他背后还有黑社会的一切势力，那就什么都可能发生了。不管怎么说，咱们的朋友波尔洛克显然是吓胡涂了——请你把信纸上的笔迹和信封上的比较一下看。这说明，信封上的字是那个人突然来访前写的，所以清楚而有力，可是信纸上的字就潦草得几乎看不清楚了。”
“那他何必写这封信呢？索性放下不管就算了。”
“因为他怕那样一来，我就会去追问他，给他找麻烦。”
“不错，"我说，“当然了，"我拿平原来用密码写的那封信，皱着眉头仔细看着，“明知这张纸上有重大秘密，可是又毫无办法去破译它，简直把人急疯了。”
歇洛克•福尔摩斯推开他一口没尝过的早餐，点着了索然乏味的烟斗，这是他默然沉思时的伴侣。"我很奇怪！"他把身子仰靠在椅背上，凝视着天花板，说道，“也许你那马基雅维里的才智，漏过了一些东西。让我们靠单纯推理来考虑一下①这个问题吧。这个人编写密码信的蓝本是一本书。咱们就从这点出发吧。”
“相当没把握的出发点啊。”
“那末让咱们看看能不能把范围缩小一点吧。当我把思想集中到它上面的时候，这件事就似乎不是那么莫测高深了。关于这本书，我们有什么可供查清的迹象没有呢？”
“一点也没有。”
“嗯，嗯，未必完全糟到这个地步。这封密码信，开始是一个大534，不是吗？我们可以假设，534是密码出处的页数。那么我们这本书就是一本很厚的书了。这样我们就多少有所进展了。关于这本厚书的种类，我们有些什么别的可以查明的迹象没有呢？第二个符号是C2，你看它是什么意思呢？华生。”①马基雅维里系意大利政治家兼历史学家。——译者注
“当然是说第二章了。"①
“不见得是这样，华生。我相信你会同意我的理由的：既然已经指出了页码，那章数就无关紧要了。再说，假如534页还在第二章，那第一章就一定长得令人吃不消了。”
“代表第几栏！”我喊道。②
①②英文的章为Chapter，栏为Column，均以字母"C"开头。——译者注
“高明，华生。今天早晨，你真是才华横溢呀。如果它不是第几栏，那我可就真是误入歧途了。所以现在你看，我们设想有一本很厚的书，每页分两栏排印，每一栏又相当长，因为在这信中，有一个词的标数是二百九十三。现在我们的推理是否到顶了呢？”
“恐怕是到顶了。”
“你太小看自己了，我亲爱的华生。让你的智慧再放一次光芒吧。再动一动脑筋看！如果这本书是一本不常见的书，他一定早已寄给我了。在他的计划遭到挫败以前，他没有把书寄给我，只是打算通过信件把线索告诉我。他在信中是这样说的。这就足以表明，这本书一定是他认为我自己不难找到的。他有这样一本，所以料想我也会有。总之，华生，这是一本很普通的书。”
“你的话听起来确实合情合理。”
“所以我们已经把探讨的范围缩小到一本厚书上了。书分两栏排印，并且是一本常用的书。”
“圣经！"我得意洋洋地大声说道。
“好，华生，好！可是，如果你不见怪的话，还不够十分好。即使我接受对我的赞扬，我也不会列举出一个莫里亚蒂党徒手边不大会有的书来。此外，《圣经》的版本那么多，很难设想两个版本页码都相同。这本书显然是版本统一的书。他知道他书上的534页肯定和我书上的534页完全相同。”
“可是符合这种条件的书却很少呢。”
“一点也不错，我们的出路恰恰就在这里。我们的查找范围又缩小到版本统一而又人人都会有的一本书了。”
“肖伯纳的著作！”
“华生，这还是有问题的。肖伯纳的文字洗炼而简洁，但词汇量有限。其词汇很难选择用来传递普通消息。我们还是把肖伯纳的著作排除吧。由于同样的理由，我看字典也不适合。那么还有什么书籍呢？”
“年鉴！”
“太好了，华生！如果你没有猜中要害，那我就大错特错了！一本年鉴！让我们来仔细考虑一下惠特克年鉴的条件吧。这是本常有的书。它有我们需要的那么多页数，分两栏排印，虽然开始词汇很简练，如果我没记错，它快到结尾时就很罗嗦了。"福尔摩斯从写字台上拿起这本书来，“这是第534页，第二栏，我看这是很长的一栏，是讨论英属印度的贸易和资源问题的。华生，请你把这些字记下来！第十三个字是'马拉塔'，我担心这不是一个吉利的开始，第一百二十七个字是'政府'，虽然这个字对我们和莫里亚蒂教授都有点离题，但至少还有点意义。现在我们再试试看。马拉塔政府做了些什么呢？哎呀，下一个字是'猪鬃'。我的好华生，咱们失败了！这下子算完了！”
他说话时虽然用的是开玩笑的语气，可是颤动的浓眉却反映出了内心的失望和恼怒。我也无可奈何闷闷不乐地坐在那里，凝视着炉火。忽然间，福尔摩斯的一声欢呼打破了长时间的沉默。他奔向书橱，从里面拿出第二本黄色封面的书来。
“华生，我们吃了太时新的亏了！"他大声说道，“咱们追求时髦，所以受到了应得的惩罚。今天是一月七号，我们非常及时地买了这本新年鉴。看来很可能波尔洛克是根据一本旧年鉴凑成他那封信的。毫无疑问，如果他把那封说明信写完的话，他一定会告诉我们这一点的。现在我们看看第534页都讲了些什么。第十三个字是‘There’，这就有希望得多了。第一百二十七个字里'is'——'There is'（两个字连起来，是'有'的意思——译者），"福尔摩斯兴奋得两眼发光，在他数一个个字的时候，他那细长而激动的手指不住地颤抖着，“‘danger’（'危险'——译者），哈！哈！好极了！华生，把它记下来。
‘There is danger—may—come—very—soon—one’（'有危险即将降临到某人身上'——译者），接下去是‘Douglas’（'道格拉斯'——译者）这个人名，再下面是'rich—country—now—at—Birl－stone House—Birlstone——confidence——is——pressin－g'。（'确信有危险即将降临到一个富绅道格拉斯身上，此人现住在伯尔斯通村伯尔斯通庄园，火急'——译者）。你看，华生！你觉得纯推理和它的成果如何？如果鲜货店有桂冠这种商品出售，我一定要叫毕利去买一顶来。”
福尔摩斯一面破译那密码，我一面在膝上把它草草记在一张大页书写纸上。我不禁全神贯注地凝视着这些奇怪的词句。
“他表达意思的方法是多么古怪而勉强啊。"我说道。
“恰恰相反，他干得简直太妙了，"福尔摩斯说道，“当你只在一栏文字里找那些用来表达你的意思的字眼时，你很难指望能找到你所需要的每个词。因此你也只好留下一些东西，让你的收信人靠他的智慧去理解了。这封信的意思，十分清楚。有些恶魔正在和一个叫道格拉斯的人作对，不管这个人是谁，信上说明他是一个富乡绅。他确信——他找不到‘Confident’（'确信'——译者）这个字，只能找到与它相近的字‘Confi dence’（'信任'——译者）来代替——事情已经万分紧急了。这就是我们的成果——而且是一点非常象样的分析工作呢！”
福尔摩斯好象一个真正的艺术家那样，即使在他没有达到自己孜孜以求的高标准而暗自失望的时候，对于自己比较好的工作成果还是会产生一种不带个人品见的欣喜的。当毕利推开门，把苏格兰场的警官麦克唐纳引进屋来时，福尔摩斯还在为自己的成绩而轻声发笑呢。
那还是早在十八世纪八十年代末的时候，亚历克•麦克唐纳还没有象现在这样名噪全国。他那时还是个青年，可是，由于他经手的案子都办得很出色，因而在侦探界已经成为深受信赖的一员了。他身材高大，体形健壮，使人一看就知道具有过人的体力；他那巨大的头盖骨和一双深陷而炯炯有神的眼睛，更清楚地说明他有敏锐的智力，这种机智就从他那两道浓眉下闪烁出来。他是一个沉默寡言、一丝不苟的人，性格倔强，带有很重的阿伯丁港的口音。
福尔摩斯已经帮他办了两起案子，均告成功。而福尔摩斯自己所得到的唯一酬劳，就是享受用智力去解决疑难的快乐。因此，这个苏格兰人对他的业余同行非常热爱和尊敬，这表现在，每逢他有什么困难，就老老实实地来向福尔摩斯求教。一个平庸的人看不到比自己高明的东西，但是一个有才能的人却能立即认出别人的天才来。麦克唐纳很有才干，他深知向福尔摩斯求援并不有辱身分，因为福尔摩斯无论在才能上和经验上，都已经是欧洲独一无二的侦探了。福尔摩斯不善交游，可是他对这个高大的苏格兰人却并不讨厌，每见麦克唐纳，他总是面带微笑。
“你真来得早，麦克先生，"福尔摩斯说，“祝你顺利，我担心又有什么案件发生了吧？”
“福尔摩斯先生，我想，如果你不说'担心'，而是说'希望'，倒还更近情理些。"这个警官会心地微笑着回答，“好，一小口酒就可以驱走清早阴冷的寒气。谢谢你，我不抽烟。我不得不赶路，因为一件案子发生后，最初的时刻是最珍贵的，这一点你是最清楚不过了，不过……不过……”
警官突然停下来，非常惊异地凝视着桌上的一页纸。这是我草草记下密码信的那张纸。
“道格拉斯！"他结结巴巴地说，“伯尔斯通！这是怎么回事？福尔摩斯先生。哎呀，这简直是在变魔术了！你到底从哪儿搞到这两个名字的？”
“这是华生医生和我两个人偶然从一封密码信中破译出来的。可是怎么，这两个名字出什么岔子了吗？”
警官茫然不解、目瞪口呆地看看我，看看福尔摩斯。“正是这样，"他说，“伯尔斯通庄园的道格拉斯先生今天早晨被人惨杀了！”
Part 1 Chapter 2 Sherlock Holmes Discourses
It was one of those dramatic moments for which my friend existed. It would be an overstatement to say that he was shocked or even excited by the amazing announcement. Without having a tinge of cruelty in his singular composition, he was undoubtedly callous from long overstimulation. Yet, if his emotions were dulled, his intellectual perceptions were exceedingly active. There was no trace then of the horror which I had myself felt at this curt declaration; but his face showed rather the quiet and interested composure of the chemist who sees the crystals falling into position from his oversaturated solution.
"Remarkable!" said he. "Remarkable!"
"You don't seem surprised."
"Interested, Mr. Mac, but hardly surprised. Why should I be surprised? I receive an anonymous communication from a quarter which I know to be important, warning me that danger threatens a certain person. Within an hour I learn that this danger has actually materialized and that the person is dead. I am interested; but, as you observe, I am not surprised."
In a few short sentences he explained to the inspector the facts about the letter and the cipher. MacDonald sat with his chin on his hands and his great sandy eyebrows bunched into a yellow tangle.
"I was going down to Birlstone this morning," said he. "I had come to ask you if you cared to come with me--you and your friend here. But from what you say we might perhaps be doing better work in London."
"I rather think not," said Holmes.
"Hang it all, Mr. Holmes!" cried the inspector. "The papers will be full of the Birlstone mystery in a day or two; but where's the mystery if there is a man in London who prophesied the crime before ever it occurred? We have only to lay our hands on that man, and the rest will follow."
"No doubt, Mr. Mac. But how do you propose to lay your hands on the so-called Porlock?"
MacDonald turned over the letter which Holmes had handed him. "Posted in Camberwell--that doesn't help us much. Name, you say, is assumed. Not much to go on, certainly. Didn't you say that you have sent him money?"
"Twice."
"And how?"
"In notes to Camberwell post office."
"Did you ever trouble to see who called for them?"
"No."
The inspector looked surprised and a little shocked. "Why not?"
"Because I always keep faith. I had promised when he first wrote that I would not try to trace him."
"You think there is someone behind him?"
"I know there is."
"This professor that I've heard you mention?"
"Exactly!"
Inspector MacDonald smiled, and his eyelid quivered as he glanced towards me. "I won't conceal from you, Mr. Holmes, that we think in the C.I.D. that you have a wee bit of a bee in your bonnet over this professor. I made some inquiries myself about the matter. He seems to be a very respectable, learned, and talented sort of man."
"I'm glad you've got so far as to recognize the talent."
"Man, you can't but recognize it! After I heard your view I made it my business to see him. I had a chat with him on eclipses. How the talk got that way I canna think; but he had out a reflector lantern and a globe, and made it all clear in a minute. He lent me a book; but I don't mind saying that it was a bit above my head, though I had a good Aberdeen upbringing. He'd have made a grand meenister with his thin face and gray hair and solemn-like way of talking. When he put his hand on my shoulder as we were parting, it was like a father's blessing before you go out into the cold, cruel world."
Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. "Great!" he said. "Great! Tell me, Friend MacDonald, this pleasing and touching interview was, I suppose, in the professor's study?"
"That's so."
"A fine room, is it not?"
"Very fine -- very handsome indeed, Mr. Holmes."
"You sat in front of his writing desk?"
"Just so."
"Sun in your eyes and his face in the shadow?"
"Well, it was evening; but I mind that the lamp was turned on my face."
"It would be. Did you happen to observe a picture over the professor's head?"
"I don't miss much, Mr. Holmes. Maybe I learned that from you. Yes, I saw the picture--a young woman with her head on her hands, peeping at you sideways."
"That painting was by Jean Baptiste Greuze."
The inspector endeavoured to look interested.
"Jean Baptiste Greuze," Holmes continued, joining his finger tips and leaning well back in his chair, "was a French artist who flourished between the years 1750 and 1800. I allude, of course to his working career. Modern criticism has more than indorsed the high opinion formed of him by his contemporaries."
The inspector's eyes grew abstracted. "Hadn't we better--" he said.
"We are doing so," Holmes interrupted. "All that I am saying has a very direct and vital bearing upon what you have called the Birlstone Mystery. In fact, it may in a sense be called the very centre of it."
MacDonald smiled feebly, and looked appealingly to me. "Your thoughts move a bit too quick for me, Mr. Holmes. You leave out a link or two, and I can't get over the gap. What in the whole wide world can be the connection between this dead painting man and the affair at Birlstone?"
"All knowledge comes useful to the detective," remarked Holmes. "Even the trivial fact that in the year 1865 a picture by Greuze entitled La Jeune Fille a l'Agneau fetched one million two hundred thousand francs--more than forty thousand pounds--at the Portalis sale may start a train of reflection in your mind."
It was clear that it did. The inspector looked honestly interested.
"I may remind you," Holmes continued, "that the professor's salary can be ascertained in several trustworthy books of reference. It is seven hundred a year."
"Then how could he buy--"
"Quite so! How could he?"
"Ay, that's remarkable," said the inspector thoughtfully. "Talk away, Mr. Holmes. I'm just loving it. It's fine!"
Holmes smiled. He was always warmed by genuine admiration--the characteristic of the real artist. "What about Birlstone?" he asked.
"We've time yet," said the inspector, glancing at his watch. "I've a cab at the door, and it won't take us twenty minutes to Victoria. But about this picture: I thought you told me once, Mr. Holmes, that you had never met Professor Moriarty."
"No, I never have."
"Then how do you know about his rooms?"
"Ah, that's another matter. I have been three times in his rooms, twice waiting for him under different pretexts and leaving before he came. Once--well, I can hardly tell about the once to an official detective. It was on the last occasion that I took the liberty of running over his papers--with the most unexpected results."
"You found something compromising?"
"Absolutely nothing. That was what amazed me. However, you have now seen the point of the picture. It shows him to be a very wealthy man. How did he acquire wealth? He is unmarried. His younger brother is a station master in the west of England. His chair is worth seven hundred a year. And he owns a Greuze."
"Well?"
"Surely the inference is plain."
"You mean that he has a great income and that he must earn it in an illegal fashion?"
"Exactly. Of course I have other reasons for thinking so--dozens of exiguous threads which lead vaguely up towards the centre of the web where the poisonous, motionless creature is lurking. I only mention the Greuze because it brings the matter within the range of your own observation."
"Well, Mr. Holmes, I admit that what you say is interesting: it's more than interesting--it's just wonderful. But let us have it a little clearer if you can. Is it forgery, coining, burglary--where does the money come from?"
"Have you ever read of Jonathan Wild?"
"Well, the name has a familiar sound. Someone in a novel, was he not? I don't take much stock of detectives in novels--chaps that do things and never let you see how they do them. That's just inspiration: not business."
"Jonathan Wild wasn't a detective, and he wasn't in a novel. He was a master criminal, and he lived last century--1750 or thereabouts."
"Then he's no use to me. I'm a practical man."
"Mr. Mac, the most practical thing that you ever did in your life would be to shut yourself up for three months and read twelve hours a day at the annals of crime. Everything comes in circles--even Professor Moriarty. Jonathan Wild was the hidden force of the London criminals, to whom he sold his brains and his organization on a fifteen per cent. commission. The old wheel turns, and the same spoke comes up. It's all been done before, and will be again. I'll tell you one or two things about Moriarty which may interest you."
"You'll interest me, right enough."
"I happen to know who is the first link in his chain--a chain with this Napoleon-gone-wrong at one end, and a hundred broken fighting men, pickpockets, blackmailers, and card sharpers at the other, with every sort of crime in between. His chief of staff is Colonel Sebastian Moran, as aloof and guarded and inaccessible to the law as himself. What do you think he pays him?"
"I'd like to hear."
"Six thousand a year. That's paying for brains, you see--the American business principle. I learned that detail quite by chance. It's more than the Prime Minister gets. That gives you an idea of Moriarty's gains and of the scale on which he works. Another point: I made it my business to hunt down some of Moriarty's checks lately--just common innocent checks that he pays his household bills with. They were drawn on six different banks. Does that make any impression on your mind?"
"Queer, certainly! But what do you gather from it?"
"That he wanted no gossip about his wealth. No single man should know what he had. I have no doubt that he has twenty banking accounts; the bulk of his fortune abroad in the Deutsche Bank or the Credit Lyonnais as likely as not. Sometime when you have a year or two to spare I commend to you the study of Professor Moriarty."
Inspector MacDonald had grown steadily more impressed as the conversation proceeded. He had lost himself in his interest. Now his practical Scotch intelligence brought him back with a snap to the matter in hand.
"He can keep, anyhow," said he. "You've got us side-tracked with your interesting anecdotes, Mr. Holmes. What really counts is your remark that there is some connection between the professor and the crime. That you get from the warning received through the man Porlock. Can we for our present practical needs get any further than that?"
"We may form some conception as to the motives of the crime. It is, as I gather from your original remarks, an inexplicable, or at least an unexplained, murder. Now, presuming that the source of the crime is as we suspect it to be, there might be two different motives. In the first place, I may tell you that Moriarty rules with a rod of iron over his people. His discipline is tremendous. There is only one punishment in his code. It is death. Now we might suppose that this murdered man--this Douglas whose approaching fate was known by one of the arch-criminal's subordinates--had in some way betrayed the chief. His punishment followed, and would be known to all--if only to put the fear of death into them."
"Well, that is one suggestion, Mr. Holmes."
"The other is that it has been engineered by Moriarty in the ordinary course of business. Was there any robbery?"
"I have not heard."
"If so, it would, of course, be against the first hypothesis and in favour of the second. Moriarty may have been engaged to engineer it on a promise of part spoils, or he may have been paid so much down to manage it. Either is possible. But whichever it may be, or if it is some third combination, it is down at Birlstone that we must seek the solution. I know our man too well to suppose that he has left anything up here which may lead us to him."
"Then to Birlstone we must go!" cried MacDonald, jumping from his chair. "My word! it's later than I thought. I can give you, gentlemen, five minutes for preparation, and that is all."
"And ample for us both," said Holmes, as he sprang up and hastened to change from his dressing gown to his coat. "While we are on our way, Mr. Mac, I will ask you to be good enough to tell me all about it."
"All about it" proved to be disappointingly little, and yet there was enough to assure us that the case before us might well be worthy of the expert's closest attention. He brightened and rubbed his thin hands together as he listened to the meagre but remarkable details. A long series of sterile weeks lay behind us, and here at last there was a fitting object for those remarkable powers which, like all special gifts, become irksome to their owner when they are not in use. That razor brain blunted and rusted with inaction.
Sherlock Holmes's eyes glistened, his pale cheeks took a warmer hue, and his whole eager face shone with an inward light when the call for work reached him. Leaning forward in the cab, he listened intently to MacDonald's short sketch of the problem which awaited us in Sussex. The inspector was himself dependent, as he explained to us, upon a scribbled account forwarded to him by the milk train in the early hours of the morning. White Mason, the local officer, was a personal friend, and hence MacDonald had been notified much more promptly than is usual at Scotland Yard when provincials need their assistance. It is a very cold scent upon which the Metropolitan expert is generally asked to run.
"DEAR INSPECTOR MACDONALD (said the letter which he read to us):
"Official requisition for your services is in separate envelope. This is for your private eye. Wire me what train in the morning you can get for Birlstone, and I will meet it--or have it met if I am too occupied. This case is a snorter. Don't waste a moment in getting started. If you can bring Mr. Holmes, please do so; for he will find something after his own heart. We would think the whole had been fixed up for theatrical effect if there wasn't a dead man in the middle of it. My word! it IS a snorter."
"Your friend seems to be no fool," remarked Holmes.
"No, sir, White Mason is a very live man, if I am any judge."
"Well, have you anything more?"
"Only that he will give us every detail when we meet."
"Then how did you get at Mr. Douglas and the fact that he had been horribly murdered?"
"That was in the inclosed official report. It didn't say 'horrible': that's not a recognized official term. It gave the name John Douglas. It mentioned that his injuries had been in the head, from the discharge of a shotgun. It also mentioned the hour of the alarm, which was close on to midnight last night. It added that the case was undoubtedly one of murder, but that no arrest had been made, and that the case was one which presented some very perplexing and extraordinary features. That's absolutely all we have at present, Mr. Holmes."
"Then, with your permission, we will leave it at that, Mr. Mac. The temptation to form premature theories upon insufficient data is the bane of our profession. I can see only two things for certain at present--a great brain in London, and a dead man in Sussex. It's the chain between that we are going to trace."
这又是一个富于戏剧性的时刻，我的朋友就是为这样的时刻而生的。如果说这个惊人的消息使他吃了一惊，或者说哪怕使他有所激动，那都言过其实了。尽管在他的癖性中不存在残忍的成分，可是由于长期过度兴奋，他无疑变得冷漠起来。然而，他的感情固然淡漠了，他的理智的洞察力却极端的敏锐。这个简短的消息使我感到恐怖，可是福尔摩斯却丝毫不露声色，他的脸上显得颇为镇静而沉着，正象一个化学家看到结晶体从过饱和溶液里分离出来一样。
“意外！意外！"他说。
“看来你并不感到吃惊啊！”
“麦克先生，这只不过是引起了我的注意罢了，决不是吃惊。我为什么要吃惊呢？我从某方面接到一封匿名信并知道这封信非常重要。它警告我说危险正威胁着某个人。一小时之内，我得知这个危险已成为现实，而那个人已经死了。正象你看到的那样 ，它引起了我的注意，可我并不吃惊。”
他把这封信和密码的来由向那警官简单讲了一遍。麦克唐纳双手托着下巴坐着，两道淡茶色的浓眉蹙成一团。
“今天早晨我本来是要到伯尔斯通去的，"麦克唐纳说，
“我来的目的就是问一下你和你的这位朋友是否愿意和我一起去。不过，从你刚才的话来看，我们在伦敦也许能办得更好些。”
“我倒不这样想，"福尔摩斯说。
“真是活见鬼了！福尔摩斯先生，"警官大声喊道，“一两天内，报上就该登满'伯尔斯通之谜'了。可是既然在罪行还没有发生以前，已经有人在伦敦预料到了，那还算得上什么谜呢？我们只要捉住这个人，其余的一切就迎刃而解了。”
“这是毫无疑问的，麦克先生。可是你打算怎样去捉住这个所谓的波尔洛克呢？”
麦克唐纳把福尔摩斯递给他的那封信翻过来说：“是从坎伯韦尔投寄的——这对我们也没有太大帮助。你说名字是假名。这当然不会有什么进展。你不是说你曾给他送过钱么？”
“送过两次。”
“怎样送给他的？”
“把钞票寄到坎伯韦尔邮局。”
“你没有设法去看看是谁取走的？”
“没有。”
警官显出吃惊的样子，而且有些诧异地说：“为什么没有呢？”
“因为我一贯守信用。他第一次写信给我时，我曾经答应不去追查他的行踪。”
“你认为他背后有个什么人吗？”
“我当然知道有。”
“就是我曾经听你提到过的那位教授吗？”
“一点也不错！”
警官麦克唐纳微微一笑，他向我瞥了一眼，眼皮连连眨动着：“不瞒你说，福尔摩斯先生，我们民间犯罪调查部都认为你对这位教授有一点儿偏见。关于这件事，我曾经亲自去调查过。他很象是一个非常可敬的、有学问的、有才能的人啊！”
“我很高兴你们竟赏识起这位天才来了。”
“老兄，人们不能不佩服他啊！在我听到你的看法以后，我就决心去看看他。我和他就日蚀的问题闲谈了一阵。我想不起来怎么会谈到这上面去的，不过他那时拿出一个反光灯和一个地球仪来，一下子就把原理说得明明白白了。他借给了我一本书，不过不怕你笑话，尽管我在阿伯丁受过很好的教育，我还是有些看不懂。他面容瘦削，头发灰白，说话时神态严肃，完全可以当一个极好的牧师呢。在我们分手的时候，他把手放在我肩上，就象父亲在你走上冷酷凶残的社会之前为你祝福似的。”
福尔摩斯格格地笑着，一边搓着手，一边说道：“好极了！好极了！麦克唐纳，我的朋友，请你告诉我，这次兴致盎然、感人肺腑的会见，我想大概是在教授的书房里进行的吧。”
“是这样。”
“一个很精致的房间，不是吗？”
“非常精致——实在非常华丽，福尔摩斯先生。”
“你是坐在他写字台对面吗？”
“正是这样。”
“太阳照着你的眼睛，而他的脸则在暗处，对吗？”
“嗯，那是在晚上；可是我记得当时灯光照在我的脸上。”
“这是当然的了。你可曾注意到教授座位上方墙上挂着一张画吗？”
“我不会漏过什么的，福尔摩斯先生。也许这是我从你那里学来的本领。不错，我看见那张画了——是一个年轻的女子，两手托着头，斜睨着人。”
“那是让•巴普蒂斯特•格罗兹的油画。”
警官尽力显得很感兴趣。
“让•巴普蒂斯特•格罗兹，"福尔摩斯两手指尖抵着指尖，仰靠在椅背上，继续说道，“他是一位法国画家，在一七五○年到一八○○年之间是显赫一时的。当然，我是指他绘画生涯说的。和格罗兹同时代的人对他评价很高，现时的评价，比那时还要高。”
警官双眼显出茫然不解的样子，说道：“我们最好还是……”
“我们正是在谈这件事情啊，"福尔摩斯打断他的话说，
“我所说的这一切都与你所称之为伯尔斯通之谜的案件有非常直接和极为重要的关系。事实上，在某种意义上可以说正是这一案件的中心呢。”
麦克唐纳用求助的眼光看着我，勉强地笑着说：“对我来讲，你的思路转动得有点太快了，福尔摩斯先生。你省略了一两个环节，可我就摸不着头脑了。到底这个已死的画家和伯尔斯通事件有什么关系呢？”
“一切知识对于侦探来说都是有用的，"福尔摩斯指出道，“一八六五年时，格罗兹一幅题名为'牧羊少女'的画，在波梯利斯拍卖时，卖到一百二十万法郎——论英镑也在四万以上——即使这样一件琐细的小事，也可以引起你的无限深思呢。”
显然，这确实引起警官的深思，他认认真真地注意听着。
“我可以提醒你，"福尔摩斯继续说下去，“教授的薪金可以从几本可靠的参考书中判断出来，每年是七百镑。”
“那他怎能买得起……”
“完全是这样！他怎能买得起呢？”
“啊，这是值得注意的，"警官深思地说，“请你继续讲下去吧，福尔摩斯先生，我真爱听极了，简直太妙了！”
福尔摩斯笑了笑。他受到人家真诚的钦佩时总是感到温暖——这可以说是一个真正的艺术家的性格。他这时问道：“到伯尔斯通去的事怎么样了呢？”
“我们还有时间呢，"警官瞅了一下表说，“我有一辆马车等在门口，用不了二十分钟就可以到维多利亚车站。可是讲起这幅画来，福尔摩斯先生，我记得你曾经对我说过一次，你从来没有见到过莫里亚蒂教授啊。”
“对，我从来没有见到过他。”
“那你怎么能知道他房间里的情形呢？”
“啊，这可是另外一回事了。我到他房中去过三次，有两次用不同的借口等候他，在他回来之前，就离开了。还有一次，啊，我可不便对一个官方侦探讲了。那是最后一次，我擅自把他的文件匆匆检查了一下，获得了完全意外的结果。”
“你发现了什么可疑的东西吗？”
“一点也没有。这正是使我惊奇的地方。不管怎样，你现在已经看到这张画所具有的意义了。它说明莫里亚蒂是一个极为富有的人。他怎么搞到这些财富的呢？他还没有结婚。他的弟弟是英格兰西部一个车站的站长。他的教授职位每年是七百镑。而他竟拥有一张格罗兹的油画。”
“嗯？”
“这样一推论，自然就明白了。”
“你的意思是说他有很大的收入，而这个收入是用非法的手段得来的吗？”
“一点不错，当然我还有别的理由这样想——许多蛛丝马迹，隐隐约约地通向蛛网的中心，而这个毒虫却一动也不动地在那里潜伏着。我仅只提起一个格罗兹，因为你自己已经亲眼见到了。”
“对，福尔摩斯先生，我承认刚才你所讲的那些话是很有意思的，不只非常有意思，简直奇妙极了。不过，如果你能把它讲得再清楚一些就更好了。究竟他的钱是从哪儿来的？伪造钞票？私铸硬币？还是盗窃来的？”
“你看过关于乔纳森•怀尔德的故事吗？”
“啊，这个名字听起来倒是很熟悉的。他是一本小说里的人物吧！是不是？我对于小说里的侦探们向来是不感兴趣的。这些家伙做什么事总是不让人家知道他们是怎样做的。那只不过是灵机一动的事，算不上办案。”
“乔纳森•怀尔德不是侦探，也不是小说里的人物，他是一个罪魁，生在上一世纪——一七五○年前后。”
“那么，他对我就没有什么用处了，我是一个讲究实际的人。”
“麦克先生，你一生最实际的事，就是应该闭门读书三个月，每天读十二个小时犯罪史。任何事物都是往复循环的——甚至莫里亚蒂教授也是如此。乔纳森•怀尔德是伦敦罪犯们的幕后推动力，他靠他那诡谲的头脑和他的组织势力从伦敦罪犯那里收取百分之十五的佣金。旧时代的车轮在旋转，同一根轮辐还会转回来的。过去所发生的一切，将来还是要发生的。我要告诉你一两件关于莫里亚蒂的事，它会使你感兴趣的。”
“你讲的一定会使我非常感兴趣。”
“我偶然发现莫里亚蒂锁链中的第一个环节——锁链的一端是这位罪大恶极的人物，另一端则有上百个出手伤人的打手、扒手、诈骗犯和靠耍弄花招骗钱的赌棍，中间夹杂着五花八门的罪行。给他们出谋划策的是塞巴斯蒂恩•莫兰上校，而国法对这位'参谋长'和对莫里亚蒂本人一样无能为力。你知道莫里亚蒂教授给他多少钱吗？”
“我很愿意听一听。”
“一年六千镑。这是他绞尽脑汁的代价。你知道这是美国的商业原则。我了解到这一详情，完全出于偶然。这比一个首相的收入还要多。从这一点就可以想象莫里亚蒂的收入究竟有多少，以及他所从事的活动规模有多大了。另外一点：最近我曾有意地搜集了莫里亚蒂的一些支票——只不过是一些他支付家庭用度的无嫌疑的普通支票。这些支票是从六家不同的银行支取的。这一点使你产生了什么印象呢？”
“当然，非常奇怪！可是你想从这点得出什么结论呢？”
“他不愿让人议论他的财富。谁也别想知道他到底有多少钱。我深信他开了足有二十个银行账户。他的大部分财产很可能存在国外德意志银行或者是利翁内信贷银行。以后当你能有一两年空闲时间的时候，我请你把莫里亚蒂教授好好研究一下。”
这番谈话给麦克唐纳留下了很深的印象，他颇感兴趣地听得出了神。现在他那种讲究实际的苏格兰人性格又使他马上转回到当前的案子上来。
“不管怎样，他当然可以存在任何一家银行的，"麦克唐纳说，“你讲这些饶有兴味的轶闻旧史，引得我都离了题，福尔摩斯先生。真正重要的是你所说的：那位教授和这件罪案是有牵连的，就是你从波尔洛克那个人那里收到的警告信上所说的那点。我们能不能为了当前的实际需要再前进一步呢？”
“我们不妨推测一下犯罪动机。我根据你原来所讲的情况来推测，这是一宗莫名片妙的、或者至少是一起难于解释的凶杀案。现在，假定犯罪的起因正象我们所怀疑的那样，可能有两种不同的动机。首先，我可以告诉你，莫里亚蒂用一种铁的手腕来统治他的党羽，他的纪律非常严。在他的法典里，只有一种惩戒形式，那就是处死。现在我们可以假定这个被害人道格拉斯以某种方式背叛过他的首领，而他那即将临头的厄运却被这个首领的某个部下知道了。继之而来的就是对他的惩戒，而且这个惩戒也就会被所有的人都知道——其目的不过是要使部下都感到死亡的恐怖。”
“好！这是一种意见。福尔摩斯先生。”
“另一种看法就是惨案的发生是按照那种营生的常规做法由莫里亚蒂策划的了。那里遭到抢劫没有？”
“这个我没有听说。”
“当然，如果是这样，那么第一种假设可能就不符合实际，而第二种假设就较接近实际了。莫里亚蒂可能是在分得部分赃物的应许下参加策划的，不然就是别人给他很多钱叫他主持这一罪恶勾当。两种假设都有可能。可是，不管是第一种还是第二种可能，或者还有什么第三种综合性的可能，咱们也必须到伯尔斯通去找答案。我对咱们这个对象可太了解了，他决不会在这里留下任何能使咱们跟踪追击到他名下的线索。”
“那么，咱们非得到伯尔斯通去不可了！"麦克唐纳从椅子上跳起来，大声说道，“哎呀！比我想的要晚多了。先生们，我只能给你们五分钟准备时间，就这样吧。”
“对我们俩来说，这就足够了。"福尔摩斯跳起来，急忙脱下睡衣，换上外套说道，“麦克先生，等我们上了路，请你把一切情况详细地告诉我。”
“一切情况"少得令人失望，但是它却足以使我们确信，我们面临的案子是非常值得一位专家密切注意的。当福尔摩斯倾听那少得可怜但却值得注意的细节时，他面露喜色，不住搓弄两只瘦手。漫长而又百无聊赖的几个星期总算是过去了，眼下终于有了一个适合的案件来发挥那些非凡的才能了，这种非凡的才能，正象一切特殊的禀赋一样，当它毫无用武之地的时候，就变得使它们的主人感到厌倦。敏锐的头脑也会由于无所事事而变得迟钝生锈的。
歇洛克•福尔摩斯遇到了要求他解决的案子，他的两眼炯炯传神，苍白的双颊微现红晕，急于求成的面庞神采奕奕。他坐在车上，上身前倾，聚精会神地倾听麦克唐纳讲述这个案子的简要情况。这个案子正等待着我们到苏塞克斯去解决呢。警官向我们解释说，他是根据送给他的一份草草写成的报告讲的，这份报告是清晨通过送牛奶的火车带给他的。地方官怀特•梅森是他的好朋友，在别处的人需要他们帮忙的时候，麦克唐纳总是比苏格兰场收到通知要快得多。这是一桩无从下手的案子，这样的案子一般需要由大城市的专家去解决的。“亲爱的麦克唐纳警官（他念给我们的信上这样说）：
这信是写给你个人的，另有公文送到警署。请打电报通知我，你坐早晨哪一班车到伯尔斯通来，以便我去迎候。如果我不能脱身，也将派人去接。这个案件不比寻常。请你火速前来，不要耽误一点时间。如果你能和福尔摩斯先生一起来，务请同行。他会发现一些完全合他心意的事。如果不是其中有一个死人，我们就会以为全部案子是戏剧性地解决了呢。哎呀，这真是个不寻常的案子啊！”
“你的朋友似乎并不愚蠢，"福尔摩斯说道。
“对，先生，如果让我评价的话，怀特•梅森是一个精力非常充沛的人。”
“好，你还有什么别的话要说吗？”
“咱们遇到他时，他会把一切详情告诉咱们的。”
“那么，你是怎么知道道格拉斯先生和他惨遭杀害的事实的？”
“那是随信附来的正式报告上说的。报告上没有用那'惨遭'二字，这不是一个公认的正式术语，只是说死者叫约翰•道格拉斯，提到他伤在头部，是被火枪射中的；还提到案发的时间是昨晚接近午夜时分；还说这案件无疑是一桩谋杀案，不过还没有对任何人实行拘捕。此案案件具有非常复杂和分外离奇的持点。福尔摩斯先生，这就是当前我们所知道的全部情况。”
“那么，麦克先生，你如果赞成，我们就谈到这里。根据不足过早做出判断，这对咱们的工作是极为有害的。当前我只能肯定两件事——伦敦的一个大智囊和苏塞克斯的死者。我们所要查清的正是这两者之间的联系。”
Part 1 Chapter 3 The Tragedy of Birlstone
Now for a moment I will ask leave to remove my own insignificant personality and to describe events which occurred before we arrived upon the scene by the light of knowledge which came to us afterwards. Only in this way can I make the reader appreciate the people concerned and the strange setting in which their fate was cast.
The village of Birlstone is a small and very ancient cluster of half-timbered cottages on the northern border of the county of Sussex. For centuries it had remained unchanged; but within the last few years its picturesque appearance and situation have attracted a number of well-to-do residents, whose villas peep out from the woods around. These woods are locally supposed to be the extreme fringe of the great Weald forest, which thins away until it reaches the northern chalk downs. A number of small shops have come into being to meet the wants of the increased population; so there seems some prospect that Birlstone may soon grow from an ancient village into a modern town. It is the centre for a considerable area of country, since Tunbridge Wells, the nearest place of importance, is ten or twelve miles to the eastward, over the borders of Kent.
About half a mile from the town, standing in an old park famous for its huge beech trees, is the ancient Manor House of Birlstone. Part of this venerable building dates back to the time of the first crusade, when Hugo de Capus built a fortalice in the centre of the estate, which had been granted to him by the Red King. This was destroyed by fire in 1543, and some of its smoke-blackened corner stones were used when, in Jacobean times, a brick country house rose upon the ruins of the feudal castle.
The Manor House, with its many gables and its small diamond-paned windows, was still much as the builder had left it in the early seventeenth century. Of the double moats which had guarded its more warlike predecessor, the outer had been allowed to dry up, and served the humble function of a kitchen garden. The inner one was still there, and lay forty feet in breadth, though now only a few feet in depth, round the whole house. A small stream fed it and continued beyond it, so that the sheet of water, though turbid, was never ditchlike or unhealthy. The ground floor windows were within a foot of the surface of the water.
The only approach to the house was over a drawbridge, the chains and windlass of which had long been rusted and broken. The latest tenants of the Manor House had, however, with characteristic energy, set this right, and the drawbridge was not only capable of being raised, but actually was raised every evening and lowered every morning. By thus renewing the custom of the old feudal days the Manor House was converted into an island during the night--a fact which had a very direct bearing upon the mystery which was soon to engage the attention of all England.
The house had been untenanted for some years and was threatening to moulder into a picturesque decay when the Douglases took possession of it. This family consisted of only two individuals--John Douglas and his wife. Douglas was a remarkable man, both in character and in person. In age he may have been about fifty, with a strong-jawed, rugged face, a grizzling moustache, peculiarly keen gray eyes, and a wiry, vigorous figure which had lost nothing of the strength and activity of youth. He was cheery and genial to all, but somewhat offhand in his manners, giving the impression that he had seen life in social strata on some far lower horizon than the county society of Sussex.
Yet, though looked at with some curiosity and reserve by his more cultivated neighbours, he soon acquired a great popularity among the villagers, subscribing handsomely to all local objects, and attending their smoking concerts and other functions, where, having a remarkably rich tenor voice, he was always ready to oblige with an excellent song. He appeared to have plenty of money, which was said to have been gained in the California gold fields, and it was clear from his own talk and that of his wife that he had spent a part of his life in America.
The good impression which had been produced by his generosity and by his democratic manners was increased by a reputation gained for utter indifference to danger. Though a wretched rider, he turned out at every meet, and took the most amazing falls in his determination to hold his own with the best. When the vicarage caught fire he distinguished himself also by the fearlessness with which he reentered the building to save property, after the local fire brigade had given it up as impossible. Thus it came about that John Douglas of the Manor House had within five years won himself quite a reputation in Birlstone.
His wife, too, was popular with those who had made her acquaintance; though, after the English fashion, the callers upon a stranger who settled in the county without introductions were few and far between. This mattered the less to her, as she was retiring by disposition, and very much absorbed, to all appearance, in her husband and her domestic duties. It was known that she was an English lady who had met Mr. Douglas in London, he being at that time a widower. She was a beautiful woman, tall, dark, and slender, some twenty years younger than her husband; a disparity which seemed in no wise to mar the contentment of their family life.
It was remarked sometimes, however, by those who knew them best, that the confidence between the two did not appear to be complete, since the wife was either very reticent about her husband's past life, or else, as seemed more likely, was imperfectly informed about it. It had also been noted and commented upon by a few observant people that there were signs sometimes of some nerve-strain upon the part of Mrs. Douglas, and that she would display acute uneasiness if her absent husband should ever be particularly late in his return. On a quiet countryside, where all gossip is welcome, this weakness of the lady of the Manor House did not pass without remark, and it bulked larger upon people's memory when the events arose which gave it a very special significance.
There was yet another individual whose residence under that roof was, it is true, only an intermittent one, but whose presence at the time of the strange happenings which will now be narrated brought his name prominently before the public. This was Cecil James Barker, of Hales Lodge, Hampstead.
Cecil Barker's tall, loose-jointed figure was a familiar one in the main street of Birlstone village; for he was a frequent and welcome visitor at the Manor House. He was the more noticed as being the only friend of the past unknown life of Mr. Douglas who was ever seen in his new English surroundings. Barker was himself an undoubted Englishman; but by his remarks it was clear that he had first known Douglas in America and had there lived on intimate terms with him. He appeared to be a man of considerable wealth, and was reputed to be a bachelor.
In age he was rather younger than Douglas--forty-five at the most--a tall, straight, broad-chested fellow with a clean-shaved, prize-fighter face, thick, strong, black eyebrows, and a pair of masterful black eyes which might, even without the aid of his very capable hands, clear a way for him through a hostile crowd. He neither rode nor shot, but spent his days in wandering round the old village with his pipe in his mouth, or in driving with his host, or in his absence with his hostess, over the beautiful countryside. "An easy-going, free-handed gentleman," said Ames, the butler. "But, my word! I had rather not be the man that crossed him!" He was cordial and intimate with Douglas, and he was no less friendly with his wife--a friendship which more than once seemed to cause some irritation to the husband, so that even the servants were able to perceive his annoyance. Such was the third person who was one of the family when the catastrophe occurred.
As to the other denizens of the old building, it will suffice out of a large household to mention the prim, respectable, and capable Ames, and Mrs. Allen, a buxom and cheerful person, who relieved the lady of some of her household cares. The other six servants in the house bear no relation to the events of the night of January 6th.
It was at eleven forty-five that the first alarm reached the small local police station, in charge of Sergeant Wilson of the Sussex Constabulary. Cecil Barker, much excited, had rushed up to the door and pealed furiously upon the bell. A terrible tragedy had occurred at the Manor House, and John Douglas had been murdered. That was the breathless burden of his message. He had hurried back to the house, followed within a few minutes by the police sergeant, who arrived at the scene of the crime a little after twelve o'clock, after taking prompt steps to warn the county authorities that something serious was afoot.
On reaching the Manor House, the sergeant had found the drawbridge down, the windows lighted up, and the whole household in a state of wild confusion and alarm. The white-faced servants were huddling together in the hall, with the frightened butler wringing his hands in the doorway. Only Cecil Barker seemed to be master of himself and his emotions; he had opened the door which was nearest to the entrance and he had beckoned to the sergeant to follow him. At that moment there arrived Dr. Wood, a brisk and capable general practitioner from the village. The three men entered the fatal room together, while the horror-stricken butler followed at their heels, closing the door behind him to shut out the terrible scene from the maid servants.
The dead man lay on his back, sprawling with outstretched limbs in the centre of the room. He was clad only in a pink dressing gown, which covered his night clothes. There were carpet slippers on his bare feet. The doctor knelt beside him and held down the hand lamp which had stood on the table. One glance at the victim was enough to show the healer that his presence could be dispensed with. The man had been horribly injured. Lying across his chest was a curious weapon, a shotgun with the barrel sawed off a foot in front of the triggers. It was clear that this had been fired at close range and that he had received the whole charge in the face, blowing his head almost to pieces. The triggers had been wired together, so as to make the simultaneous discharge more destructive.
The country policeman was unnerved and troubled by the tremendous responsibility which had come so suddenly upon him. "We will touch nothing until my superiors arrive," he said in a hushed voice, staring in horror at the dreadful head.
"Nothing has been touched up to now," said Cecil Barker. "I'll answer for that. You see it all exactly as I found it."
"When was that?" The sergeant had drawn out his notebook.
"It was just half-past eleven. I had not begun to undress, and I was sitting by the fire in my bedroom when I heard the report. It was not very loud--it seemed to be muffled. I rushed down--I don't suppose it was thirty seconds before I was in the room."
"Was the door open?"
"Yes, it was open. Poor Douglas was lying as you see him. His bedroom candle was burning on the table. It was I who lit the lamp some minutes afterward."
"Did you see no one?"
"No. I heard Mrs. Douglas coming down the stair behind me, and I rushed out to prevent her from seeing this dreadful sight. Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, came and took her away. Ames had arrived, and we ran back into the room once more."
"But surely I have heard that the drawbridge is kept up all night."
"Yes, it was up until I lowered it."
"Then how could any murderer have got away? It is out of the question! Mr. Douglas must have shot himself."
"That was our first idea. But see!" Barker drew aside the curtain, and showed that the long, diamond-paned window was open to its full extent. "And look at this!" He held the lamp down and illuminated a smudge of blood like the mark of a boot-sole upon the wooden sill. "Someone has stood there in getting out."
"You mean that someone waded across the moat?"
"Exactly!"
"Then if you were in the room within half a minute of the crime, he must have been in the water at that very moment."
"I have not a doubt of it. I wish to heaven that I had rushed to the window! But the curtain screened it, as you can see, and so it never occurred to me. Then I heard the step of Mrs. Douglas, and I could not let her enter the room. It would have been too horrible."
"Horrible enough!" said the doctor, looking at the shattered head and the terrible marks which surrounded it. "I've never seen such injuries since the Birlstone railway smash."
"But, I say," remarked the police sergeant, whose slow, bucolic common sense was still pondering the open window. "It's all very well your saying that a man escaped by wading this moat, but what I ask you is, how did he ever get into the house at all if the bridge was up?"
"Ah, that's the question," said Barker.
"At what o'clock was it raised?"
"It was nearly six o'clock," said Ames, the butler.
"I've heard," said the sergeant, "that it was usually raised at sunset. That would be nearer half-past four than six at this time of year."
"Mrs. Douglas had visitors to tea," said Ames. "I couldn't raise it until they went. Then I wound it up myself."
"Then it comes to this," said the sergeant: "If anyone came from outside--IF they did--they must have got in across the bridge before six and been in hiding ever since, until Mr. Douglas came into the room after eleven."
"That is so! Mr. Douglas went round the house every night the last thing before he turned in to see that the lights were right. That brought him in here. The man was waiting and shot him. Then he got away through the window and left his gun behind him. That's how I read it; for nothing else will fit the facts."
The sergeant picked up a card which lay beside the dead man on the floor. The initials V.V. and under them the number 341 were rudely scrawled in ink upon it.
"What's this?" he asked, holding it up.
Barker looked at it with curiosity. "I never noticed it before," he said. "The murderer must have left it behind him."
"V.V.--341. I can make no sense of that."
The sergeant kept turning it over in his big fingers. "What's V.V.? Somebody's initials, maybe. What have you got there, Dr. Wood?"
It was a good-sized hammer which had been lying on the rug in front of the fireplace--a substantial, workmanlike hammer. Cecil Barker pointed to a box of brass-headed nails upon the mantelpiece.
"Mr. Douglas was altering the pictures yesterday," he said. "I saw him myself, standing upon that chair and fixing the big picture above it. That accounts for the hammer."
"We'd best put it back on the rug where we found it," said the sergeant, scratching his puzzled head in his perplexity. "It will want the best brains in the force to get to the bottom of this thing. It will be a London job before it is finished." He raised the hand lamp and walked slowly round the room. "Hullo!" he cried, excitedly, drawing the window curtain to one side. "What o'clock were those curtains drawn?"
"When the lamps were lit," said the butler. "It would be shortly after four."
"Someone had been hiding here, sure enough." He held down the light, and the marks of muddy boots were very visible in the corner. "I'm bound to say this bears out your theory, Mr. Barker. It looks as if the man got into the house after four when the curtains were drawn, and before six when the bridge was raised. He slipped into this room, because it was the first that he saw. There was no other place where he could hide, so he popped in behind this curtain. That all seems clear enough. It is likely that his main idea was to burgle the house; but Mr. Douglas chanced to come upon him, so he murdered him and escaped."
"That's how I read it," said Barker. "But, I say, aren't we wasting precious time? Couldn't we start out and scout the country before the fellow gets away?"
The sergeant considered for a moment.
"There are no trains before six in the morning; so he can't get away by rail. If he goes by road with his legs all dripping, it's odds that someone will notice him. Anyhow, I can't leave here myself until I am relieved. But I think none of you should go until we see more clearly how we all stand."
The doctor had taken the lamp and was narrowly scrutinizing the body. "What's this mark?" he asked. "Could this have any connection with the crime?"
The dead man's right arm was thrust out from his dressing gown, and exposed as high as the elbow. About halfway up the forearm was a curious brown design, a triangle inside a circle, standing out in vivid relief upon the lard-coloured skin.
"It's not tattooed," said the doctor, peering through his glasses. "I never saw anything like it. The man has been branded at some time as they brand cattle. What is the meaning of this?"
"I don't profess to know the meaning of it," said Cecil Barker; "but I have seen the mark on Douglas many times this last ten years."
"And so have I," said the butler. "Many a time when the master has rolled up his sleeves I have noticed that very mark. I've often wondered what it could be."
"Then it has nothing to do with the crime, anyhow," said the sergeant. "But it's a rum thing all the same. Everything about this case is rum. Well, what is it now?"
The butler had given an exclamation of astonishment and was pointing at the dead man's outstretched hand.
"They've taken his wedding ring!" he gasped.
"What!"
"Yes, indeed. Master always wore his plain gold wedding ring on the little finger of his left hand. That ring with the rough nugget on it was above it, and the twisted snake ring on the third finger. There's the nugget and there's the snake, but the wedding ring is gone."
"He's right," said Barker.
"Do you tell me," said the sergeant, "that the wedding ring was BELOW the other?"
"Always!"
"Then the murderer, or whoever it was, first took off this ring you call the nugget ring, then the wedding ring, and afterwards put the nugget ring back again."
"That is so!"
The worthy country policeman shook his head. "Seems to me the sooner we get London on to this case the better," said he. "White Mason is a smart man. No local job has ever been too much for White Mason. It won't be long now before he is here to help us. But I expect we'll have to look to London before we are through. Anyhow, I'm not ashamed to say that it is a deal too thick for the likes of me."
现在我把无关紧要的人物暂时放在一边，先描述一下在我们到达发案地点以前所发生的事情，这是我们后来才知道的。只有这样，我才能使读者了解有关人物以及决定他们命运的奇特背景。
伯尔斯通是一个小村落，在苏塞克斯郡北部边缘地区，有一片古老的半砖半木的房屋，几百年来一成不变，但近年来由于风景优美、位置优越，有些富户移居此地，他们的别墅在四周丛林中隐约可见。当地认为这些丛林是维尔德大森林的边缘，大森林伸展到北部白垩丘陵地，变得越来越稀疏了。由于人口日益增长，一些小商店也就应需开设起来，因此，它的远景已经显然可见，伯尔斯通会很快从一个古老的小村落发展成一个现代化城镇。伯尔斯通是一个相当大的农村地区的中心，因为离这里十或十二英里远近，向东延伸到肯特郡的边区，有一个离这里最近的重要城镇滕布里奇韦尔斯市。
离村镇半英里左右，有一座古老园林，以其高大的山毛榉树而闻名，这就是古旧的伯尔斯通庄园。这个历史悠久的建筑物的一部分兴建于第一次十字军东征时代，当时休戈•戴•坎普司在英王赐给他的这个庄园中心建立起一座小型城堡。这座城堡在一五四三年毁于火灾。直到詹姆士一世时代，一座砖瓦房又在这座封建城堡的废墟上修建起来，原来那座城堡四角所用的已被熏黑了的基石，也被利用上了。
庄园的建筑有许多山墙和菱形小格玻璃窗，仍象十七世纪初它的建造者所遗留下来的那种样子。原来用于卫护其富于尚武精神的先辈的两道护城河，外河已经干涸，被辟作菜园。那道内河依然存在，虽然现在只剩下几英尺深了 ，但宽度却还有四十英尺，环绕着整个庄园。有一条小河流经这里，蜿蜒不绝，因此，水流尽管浑浊，却从不象壕沟死水那样不卫生。庄园大楼底层的窗户离水面不到一英尺。
进入庄园必须通过一座吊桥。吊桥的铁链和绞盘早已生锈、毁坏。然而，这座庄园的新住户具有独特的精力，竟把它修复起来，这座吊桥不但可以吊起，而且实际上每天晚上都吊起来，早晨放下去。这样就恢复了旧日封建时代的习俗，一到晚上，庄园就变成了一座孤岛——这一事实是和即将轰动整个英国的这一案件有直接关系的。
这所房子已经多年没有人住了，在道格拉斯买它的时候，已有荒废坍塌成引人注目的废墟的危险。这个家庭只有两口人，就是约翰•道格拉斯和他的夫人。从性格和人品方面来说，道格拉斯是一个非凡的人。他年约五十，大下巴，面容粗犷，蓄着灰白的小胡子，一双特别敏锐的灰眼睛，瘦长而结实的体形，其健壮机敏丝毫不减当年。他总是喜气洋洋、和蔼可亲。但是在他的举止中，有点不拘礼仪，使人产生一种印象，似乎他曾体验过远远低于苏塞克斯郡社会阶层的生活。
然而，尽管那些颇有教养的邻居们以好奇而谨慎的眼光看待他，但由于他慷慨大方地捐款给当地一切福利事业，参加他们的烟火音乐会和其他盛大集会，加以他有着受人欢迎的男高音的圆润歌喉 ，而且常常喜欢满足大家的要求给人们唱一支优美的歌曲，所以道格拉斯很快便在村民中大得人心。他看起来很有钱，据说是从加利福尼亚州的金矿赚来的。从他本人和他的夫人的谈话中，人们清楚地得知，道格拉斯曾在美国生活过一段时间。
由于道格拉斯慷慨大方，平易近人，人们对他的印象格外好，而他那临危不惧、履险如夷的精神更大大地提高了他的声望。尽管他是一个不很高明的枪手，每次狩猎集会他都应邀参加，令人吃惊地与别人较量，凭着他的决心，不仅坚持下来，而且一点也不比别人差。有一次教区牧师的住宅起火，当本地的消防队宣告无法扑救之后，他仍无所畏惧地冲进火窟，抢救财物，从而崭露头角。因此，约翰•道格拉斯虽然来到此地不过五年，却已誉满伯尔斯通了。
他的夫人也颇受相识者的爱戴。按照英国人的习惯，一个迁来本地的异乡人，如果未经介绍，拜访他的人是不会很多的。这对她来说，倒也无关紧要。因为她是一个性格孤独的人。而且，显然她非常专心致志地照顾丈夫，料理家务。相传她是一个英国女子，在伦敦和道格拉斯先生相逢，那时道格拉斯正在鳏居。她是一个美丽的女人，高高的身材，肤色较深，体态苗条，比她丈夫年轻二十岁。年龄的悬殊似乎毫未影响他们美满的家庭生活。
然而，有时那些深知内情的人说，他们的相互信任并不是无懈可击的，因为道格拉斯夫人对她丈夫过去的生活与其说不愿多谈，还不如说是不完全了解。少数观察敏锐的人曾注意到并议论过：道格拉斯太太有时有些神经紧张的表现 ，每逢她丈夫回来得过迟的时候，她就显得极度不安。平静的乡村总喜欢传播流言蜚语，庄园主夫人这一弱点当然也不会被人们默默地放过，而事件发生后，这件事在人们的记忆中就会变得更加重要，因此也就具有特殊的意义。
可是还有一个人，说实在的，他不过是有时在这里住一下，不过由于这件奇案发生时，他也在场，因此在人们的议论中，他的名字就特别突出了。这个人叫塞西尔•詹姆斯•巴克，是汉普斯特德郡黑尔斯洛基市人。
塞西尔•巴克身材高大灵活，伯尔斯通村里主要大街上人人都认识他，因为他经常出入庄园，是一个在庄园颇受欢迎的客人。对道格拉斯过去的生活，人们都不了解，塞西尔•巴克是唯一了解这种往事的人。巴克本人无疑是个英国人，但是据他自己说，他初次与道格拉斯相识是在美洲，而且在那里两个人关系很密切，这一点是很清楚的。看来巴克是一个拥有大量财产的人，而且众所周知是个光棍汉。
从年龄上讲，他比道格拉斯年轻得多——最多四十五岁，身材高大笔直，膀大腰圆，脸刮得精光 ，脸型象一个职业拳击家，浓重的黑眉毛，一双目光逼人的黑眼睛，甚至用不着他那本领高强的双手的帮助，就能从敌阵中清出一条路来。他既不喜欢骑马，也不喜欢狩猎，但却喜欢叼着烟斗，在这古老的村子里转来转去，不然就与主人一起，主人不在时就与女主人一起，在景色优美的乡村中驾车出游，借以消遣。
“他是一个性情随和慷慨大方的绅士，"管家艾姆斯说，“不过，哎呀！我可不敢和他顶牛！"巴克与道格拉斯非常亲密，与道格拉斯夫人也一样友爱——可是这种友谊似乎不止一次地引起那位丈夫的恼怒，甚至连仆人们也察觉出道格拉斯的烦恼。这就是祸事发生时，这个家庭中的第三个人物。
至于老宅子里的另外一些居民，只要提一提艾姆斯和艾伦太太就够了——大管家艾姆斯是个拘谨、古板、文雅而又能干的人；而艾伦太太则是个健美而快乐的人，她分担了女主人一些家务管理工作。宅中其余六个仆人就和一月六日晚上的事件毫无关系了。
夜里十一点四十五分，第一次报警就传到当地这个小小的警察所了。这个警察所由来自苏塞克斯保安队的威尔逊警官主管。塞西尔•巴克非常激动地向警察所的门冲过去，拼命地敲起警钟。他上岂不接下平地报告：庄园里出了惨祸，约翰•道格拉斯被人杀害了。他匆匆地赶回庄园，过了几分钟 ，警官也随后赶到了，他是在向郡当局紧急报告发生了严重事件以后，于十二点多一点赶到犯罪现场的。
警官到达庄园时，发现吊桥已经放下，楼窗灯火通明，全家处于非常混乱和惊慌失措的状态。面色苍白的仆人们彼此紧挨着站在大厅里，惊恐万状的管家搓着双手，站在门口，只有塞西尔•巴克看来还比较镇静，他打开离入口最近的门，招呼警官跟他进来。这时，本村活跃而有本领的开业医生伍德也到了。三个人一起走进这间不幸的房屋，惊慌失措的管家也紧随他们走了进来，随手把门关上，不让那些女仆们看到这可怖的景象。
死者四肢摊开，仰卧在屋子中央，身上只穿一件桃红色晨衣，里面穿着夜服，赤脚穿着毡拖鞋。医生跪在他旁边，把桌上的油灯拿了下来。只看受害者一眼，就足以使医生明白，毫无救活的可能了。受害者伤势惨重，胸前横着一件稀奇古怪的武器——一支火枪，枪管从扳机往前一英尺的地方锯断了。两个扳机用铁丝缚在一起，为的是同时发射，以便构成更大的杀伤力。显然，射击距离非常近，而且全部火药都射到脸上，死者的头几乎被炸得粉碎。
这样重大的责任突然降到乡村警官身上，使他困惑不安，没有勇气承担。"在长官没来之前，我们什么也不要动，"他惊惶失措地凝视着那可怕的头颅 ，低声说道。
“到现在为止，什么也没有动过，"塞西尔•巴克说道，“我保证，你们所看到的一切完全和我发现时一模一样。”
“这事发生在什么时间？"警官掏出笔记本来。
“当时正是十一点半。我还没有脱衣服。我听到枪声时，正坐在卧室壁炉旁取暖。枪声并不很响——好象被什么捂住了似的。我奔下楼来，跑到那间屋子时，也不过半分钟的功夫。”
“那时门是开着的吗？”
“是的，门是开着的。可怜的道格拉斯倒在地上，和你现在看见的一样。他卧室里的蜡烛仍然在桌上点着。后来过了几分钟，我才把灯点上。”
“你一个人也没看见吗？”
“没有。我听见道格拉斯太太随后走下楼来，我连忙跑过去，把她拦住，不让她看见这可怕的景象。女管家艾伦太太也来了，扶着她走开。艾姆斯来了，我们又重新回到那屋里。”
“可是我肯定听说过吊桥整夜都是吊起来的。”
“是的，在我把它放下以前，吊桥是吊起来的。”
“那么凶手怎么能逃走呢？这是不可能的！道格拉斯先生一定是自杀的。”
“我们最初也是这样想的，不过你看！"巴克把窗帘拉到一旁，让他看那已经完全打开的玻璃长窗。"你再看看这个！"他把灯拿低些，照着木窗台上的血迹，象一只长统靴底的印痕，
“有人在逃出去的时候曾站在这里。”
“你认为有人蹚水逃过护城河了吗？
“不错！”
“那么，如果你在罪案发生后不到半分钟就来到屋中，罪犯当时必然还在水里。”
“我毫不怀疑这点。那时我要是跑到窗前就好了！可是正象你刚才看见的那样，窗帘遮住了窗户。所以我没有想到这点。后来我听到道格拉斯太太的脚步声，我可不能让她走进这间屋子。那情况简直太可怕了。”
“实在太可怕了！"医生看着炸碎的头颅和它四周的可怕血印说，“从伯尔斯通火车撞车事件以来，我还没见过这样可怕的重伤呢。”
“不过，我看，"警官说道，他那迟缓的、被那乡巴佬的常识局限住了的思路仍然停留在洞开的窗户上面，“你说有一个人蹚水过护城河逃走，是完全对的。不过我想问你，既然吊桥已经吊起来，他又是怎么走进来的呢？”
“啊，问题就在这里啊，"巴克说道。
“吊桥是几点钟吊起来的呢？”
“将近六点钟时，"管家艾姆斯说。
“我听说，"警官说道，“吊桥通常在太阳西下的时候吊起来。那么在一年中这个季节，日落应该是在四点半左右，而不会是六点钟。”
“道格拉斯太太请客人们吃茶点，"艾姆斯说道，“客人不走我是不能吊起吊桥的。后来，桥是我亲手吊起来的。”
“这样说来，"警官说道，“如果有人从外面进来——假定是这样——那他们必须在六点钟以前通过吊桥来到，而且一直藏到十一点钟以后，直到道格拉斯先生走进屋中。”
“正是这样！道格拉斯先生每天晚上都要在庄园四周巡视一番。他上床睡觉以前最后一件事是察看烛火是否正常。这样他就来到这里，那个人正在等着他，就向他开枪了，然后丢下火枪，越过窗子逃跑了。我认为就是这样；除此以外，没有任何其它解释能与眼前的事实相符。”
警官从死者身旁地板上拾起一张卡片，上面用钢笔潦草地写着两个姓名开头大写字母V.V．，下面是数目字341。
“这是什么？"警官举起卡片问道。
巴克好奇地看着卡片。
“我以前从没注意到这个，"巴克说道，“这一定是凶手留下来的。”
“V.V．——341。我弄不明白这是什么意思。”
警官的大手把名片来回翻着说道：
“V．V．是什么？大约是人名的开头大写字母。医生，你找到了什么？”
壁炉前地毯上放着一把大号铁锤，是一把坚固而精致的铁锤。
塞西尔•巴克指了指壁炉台上的铜头钉盒子说道：
“昨天道格拉斯先生换油画来着，我亲眼看见他站在椅子上把这张大画挂在上面。铁锤就是这么来的。”
“我们最好还是把铁锤放回发现它时的原地吧，"警官茫然不解，用手搔着头说道，“只有头脑极为灵敏的警探才能弄清这件事情的真相。还是请伦敦警探来清理这个案子吧。"他举起了灯，环屋慢慢地走着。
“喂！"警官兴奋地把窗帘拉向一旁，大声说道，“窗帘是几点钟拉上的呢？”
“在点起灯来的时候，"管家回答道，"四点钟刚过没多久。”
“完全可以肯定，有人藏在这里，"警官又把灯拿低了。在墙角那里，长统靴子泥污的痕迹非常明显。
“我敢肯定，巴克先生，这就完全证实了你的推测。看来，凶手是四点钟以后窗帘已经拉上，六点钟以前吊桥还没吊起来的时候溜进屋里来的。他溜进了这间屋子，因为这是他首先看到的一间。他没有别的地方可以藏身，所以就躲到这个窗帘后面。这一切看来非常明显。看样子，他主要是想盗窃室内的财物。可是道格拉斯先生正巧碰上了他，所以他就下了毒手，溜之大吉。”
“我也是这样想的，"巴克说道，“不过，我说，我们是不是在白白浪费宝贵的时间？我们为何不趁凶手还没走远，把这个村镇搜查一番呢？”
警官想了一想，说道：“早晨六点种以前没有火车，所以他决不能乘火车逃走。假如他两腿水淋淋地在大路上步行，大约人们会注意上他的。在没有人来和我换班以前，我无论如何也不能离开这儿。但我认为你们在水落石出以前，也是不便走开的。”
伍德医生拿起灯，仔细地检查尸体。
“这是什么记号？"他问道，“这可和案情有什么关系吗？”
死尸的右臂露在外面，直露到臂肘。大约在前臂中间的地方，有一个奇特的褐色标记——一个圆圈，里面有一个三角形，每一条痕迹都是凸起的——在灰白的皮肤上显得异常醒目。
“这不是针刺的花纹，"伍德医生的目光透过眼镜紧盯着标记说道，“我从来没见过象这样的标记。这个人曾经烙过烙印呢，就象牲口身上的烙印一样。这是怎么回事？”
“我不知道这是什么意思，不过近十年间我曾多次看到他臂上的这个标记。"塞西尔•巴克说道。
“我也看到过，"管家说道，“有很多次主人挽起衣袖，我就看到那个标记。我一直不明白那究竟是怎么回事？”
“那么，这和案情没有什么关系了，"警官说道，“但这是一件怪事。牵涉到这一案子的每桩事都这么怪。喂，这到底是怎么回事？”
管家指着死者伸出的手，惊呼起来：“他们把他的结婚戒指拿走了！"他气喘吁吁地说。
“什么？！”
“不错，真是这样！主人左手小指上总戴着纯金结婚戒指，再上面戴着带有天然块金的戒指，中指上戴着盘蛇形戒指。现在天然块金戒指和盘蛇戒指都还在，唯独结婚戒指没有了。”
“他说得不错，"巴克说道。
“你是说那只结婚戒指戴在另一只戒指下面吗？"警官问道。
“始终如此！”
“那么这凶手，或者不管他是谁吧，首先要把你说的那个天然块金戒指取下来，再取下结婚戒指，然后再把块金戒指套上去。”
“是这样。”
这位可敬的乡村警官摇起头来，他说：“依我看我们最好把这个案子交给伦敦去办吧，愈快愈好。怀特•梅森是一个精明人。当地案件没有怀特•梅森应付不了的。过不多久他就要到这里来帮助我们了。不过我想，我们只好指望伦敦把事情办到底。不管怎么说，不怕说出来让人笑话，象我这样的人，办这样的案子，实在是力所不及呢。”
Part 1 Chapter 4 Darkness
At three in the morning the chief Sussex detective, obeying the urgent call from Sergeant Wilson of Birlstone, arrived from headquarters in a light dog-cart behind a breathless trotter. By the five-forty train in the morning he had sent his message to Scotland Yard, and he was at the Birlstone station at twelve o'clock to welcome us. White Mason was a quiet, comfortable-looking person in a loose tweed suit, with a clean-shaved, ruddy face, a stoutish body, and powerful bandy legs adorned with gaiters, looking like a small farmer, a retired gamekeeper, or anything upon earth except a very favourable specimen of the provincial criminal officer.
"A real downright snorter, Mr. MacDonald!" he kept repeating. "We'll have the pressmen down like flies when they understand it. I'm hoping we will get our work done before they get poking their noses into it and messing up all the trails. There has been nothing like this that I can remember. There are some bits that will come home to you, Mr. Holmes, or I am mistaken. And you also, Dr. Watson; for the medicos will have a word to say before we finish. Your room is at the Westville Arms. There's no other place; but I hear that it is clean and good. The man will carry your bags. This way, gentlemen, if you please."
He was a very bustling and genial person, this Sussex detective. In ten minutes we had all found our quarters. In ten more we were seated in the parlour of the inn and being treated to a rapid sketch of those events which have been outlined in the previous chapter. MacDonald made an occasional note; while Holmes sat absorbed, with the expression of surprised and reverent admiration with which the botanist surveys the rare and precious bloom.
"Remarkable!" he said, when the story was unfolded, "most remarkable! I can hardly recall any case where the features have been more peculiar."
"I thought you would say so, Mr. Holmes," said White Mason in great delight. "We're well up with the times in Sussex. I've told you now how matters were, up to the time when I took over from Sergeant Wilson between three and four this morning. My word! I made the old mare go! But I need not have been in such a hurry, as it turned out; for there was nothing immediate that I could do. Sergeant Wilson had all the facts. I checked them and considered them and maybe added a few of my own."
"What were they?" asked Holmes eagerly.
"Well, I first had the hammer examined. There was Dr. Wood there to help me. We found no signs of violence upon it. I was hoping that if Mr. Douglas defended himself with the hammer, he might have left his mark upon the murderer before he dropped it on the mat. But there was no stain."
"That, of course, proves nothing at all," remarked Inspector MacDonald. "There has been many a hammer murder and no trace on the hammer."
"Quite so. It doesn't prove it wasn't used. But there might have been stains, and that would have helped us. As a matter of fact there were none. Then I examined the gun. They were buckshot cartridges, and, as Sergeant Wilson pointed out, the triggers were wired together so that, if you pulled on the hinder one, both barrels were discharged. Whoever fixed that up had made up his mind that he was going to take no chances of missing his man. The sawed gun was not more than two foot long--one could carry it easily under one's coat. There was no complete maker's name; but the printed letters P-E-N were on the fluting between the barrels, and the rest of the name had been cut off by the saw."
"A big P with a flourish above it, E and N smaller?" asked Holmes.
"Exactly."
"Pennsylvania Small Arms Company--well-known American firm," said Holmes.
White Mason gazed at my friend as the little village practitioner looks at the Harley Street specialist who by a word can solve the difficulties that perplex him.
"That is very helpful, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right. Wonderful! Wonderful! Do you carry the names of all the gun makers in the world in your memory?"
Holmes dismissed the subject with a wave.
"No doubt it is an American shotgun," White Mason continued. "I seem to have read that a sawed-off shotgun is a weapon used in some parts of America. Apart from the name upon the barrel, the idea had occurred to me. There is some evidence then, that this man who entered the house and killed its master was an American."
MacDonald shook his head. "Man, you are surely travelling overfast," said he. "I have heard no evidence yet that any stranger was ever in the house at all."
"The open window, the blood on the sill, the queer card, the marks of boots in the corner, the gun!"
"Nothing there that could not have been arranged. Mr. Douglas was an American, or had lived long in America. So had Mr. Barker. You don't need to import an American from outside in order to account for American doings."
"Ames, the butler--"
"What about him? Is he reliable?"
"Ten years with Sir Charles Chandos--as solid as a rock. He has been with Douglas ever since he took the Manor House five years ago. He has never seen a gun of this sort in the house."
"The gun was made to conceal. That's why the barrels were sawed. It would fit into any box. How could he swear there was no such gun in the house?"
"Well, anyhow, he had never seen one."
MacDonald shook his obstinate Scotch head. "I'm not convinced yet that there was ever anyone in the house," said he. "I'm asking you to conseedar" (his accent became more Aberdonian as he lost himself in his argument) "I'm asking you to conseedar what it involves if you suppose that this gun was ever brought into the house, and that all these strange things were done by a person from outside. Oh, man, it's just inconceivable! It's clean against common sense! I put it to you, Mr. Holmes, judging it by what we have heard."
"Well, state your case, Mr. Mac," said Holmes in his most judicial style.
"The man is not a burglar, supposing that he ever existed. The ring business and the card point to premeditated murder for some private reason. Very good. Here is a man who slips into a house with the deliberate intention of committing murder. He knows, if he knows anything, that he will have a deeficulty in making his escape, as the house is surrounded with water. What weapon would he choose? You would say the most silent in the world. Then he could hope when the deed was done to slip quickly from the window, to wade the moat, and to get away at his leisure. That's understandable. But is it understandable that he should go out of his way to bring with him the most noisy weapon he could select, knowing well that it will fetch every human being in the house to the spot as quick as they can run, and that it is all odds that he will be seen before he can get across the moat? Is that credible, Mr. Holmes?"
"Well, you put the case strongly," my friend replied thoughtfully. "It certainly needs a good deal of justification. May I ask, Mr. White Mason, whether you examined the farther side of the moat at once to see if there were any signs of the man having climbed out from the water?"
"There were no signs, Mr. Holmes. But it is a stone ledge, and one could hardly expect them."
"No tracks or marks?"
"None."
"Ha! Would there be any objection, Mr. White Mason, to our going down to the house at once? There may possibly be some small point which might be suggestive."
"I was going to propose it, Mr. Holmes; but I thought it well to put you in touch with all the facts before we go. I suppose if anything should strike you--" White Mason looked doubtfully at the amateur.
"I have worked with Mr. Holmes before," said Inspector MacDonald. "He plays the game."
"My own idea of the game, at any rate," said Holmes, with a smile. "I go into a case to help the ends of justice and the work of the police. If I have ever separated myself from the official force, it is because they have first separated themselves from me. I have no wish ever to score at their expense. At the same time, Mr. White Mason, I claim the right to work in my own way and give my results at my own time--complete rather than in stages."
"I am sure we are honoured by your presence and to show you all we know," said White Mason cordially. "Come along, Dr. Watson, and when the time comes we'll all hope for a place in your book."
We walked down the quaint village street with a row of pollarded elms on each side of it. Just beyond were two ancient stone pillars, weather-stained and lichen-blotched, bearing upon their summits a shapeless something which had once been the rampant lion of Capus of Birlstone. A short walk along the winding drive with such sward and oaks around it as one only sees in rural England, then a sudden turn, and the long, low Jacobean house of dingy, liver-coloured brick lay before us, with an old-fashioned garden of cut yews on each side of it. As we approached it, there was the wooden drawbridge and the beautiful broad moat as still and luminous as quicksilver in the cold, winter sunshine.
Three centuries had flowed past the old Manor House, centuries of births and of homecomings, of country dances and of the meetings of fox hunters. Strange that now in its old age this dark business should have cast its shadow upon the venerable walls! And yet those strange, peaked roofs and quaint, overhung gables were a fitting covering to grim and terrible intrigue. As I looked at the deep-set windows and the long sweep of the dull-coloured, water-lapped front, I felt that no more fitting scene could be set for such a tragedy.
"That's the window," said White Mason, "that one on the immediate right of the drawbridge. It's open just as it was found last night."
"It looks rather narrow for a man to pass."
"Well, it wasn't a fat man, anyhow. We don't need your deductions, Mr. Holmes, to tell us that. But you or I could squeeze through all right."
Holmes walked to the edge of the moat and looked across. Then he examined the stone ledge and the grass border beyond it.
"I've had a good look, Mr. Holmes," said White Mason. "There is nothing there, no sign that anyone has landed--but why should he leave any sign?"
"Exactly. Why should he? Is the water always turbid?"
"Generally about this colour. The stream brings down the clay."
"How deep is it?"
"About two feet at each side and three in the middle."
"So we can put aside all idea of the man having been drowned in crossing."
"No, a child could not be drowned in it."
We walked across the drawbridge, and were admitted by a quaint, gnarled, dried-up person, who was the butler, Ames. The poor old fellow was white and quivering from the shock. The village sergeant, a tall, formal, melancholy man, still held his vigil in the room of Fate. The doctor had departed.
"Anything fresh, Sergeant Wilson?" asked White Mason.
"No, sir."
"Then you can go home. You've had enough. We can send for you if we want you. The butler had better wait outside. Tell him to warn Mr. Cecil Barker, Mrs. Douglas, and the housekeeper that we may want a word with them presently. Now, gentlemen, perhaps you will allow me to give you the views I have formed first, and then you will be able to arrive at your own."
He impressed me, this country specialist. He had a solid grip of fact and a cool, clear, common-sense brain, which should take him some way in his profession. Holmes listened to him intently, with no sign of that impatience which the official exponent too often produced.
"Is it suicide, or is it murder--that's our first question, gentlemen, is it not? If it were suicide, then we have to believe that this man began by taking off his wedding ring and concealing it; that he then came down here in his dressing gown, trampled mud into a corner behind the curtain in order to give the idea someone had waited for him, opened the window, put blood on the--"
"We can surely dismiss that," said MacDonald.
"So I think. Suicide is out of the question. Then a murder has been done. What we have to determine is, whether it was done by someone outside or inside the house."
"Well, let's hear the argument."
"There are considerable difficulties both ways, and yet one or the other it must be. We will suppose first that some person or persons inside the house did the crime. They got this man down here at a time when everything was still and yet no one was asleep. They then did the deed with the queerest and noisiest weapon in the world so as to tell everyone what had happened--a weapon that was never seen in the house before. That does not seem a very likely start, does it?"
"No, it does not."
"Well, then, everyone is agreed that after the alarm was given only a minute at the most had passed before the whole household--not Mr. Cecil Barker alone, though he claims to have been the first, but Ames and all of them were on the spot. Do you tell me that in that time the guilty person managed to make footmarks in the corner, open the window, mark the sill with blood, take the wedding ring off the dead man's finger, and all the rest of it? It's impossible!"
"You put it very clearly," said Holmes. "I am inclined to agree with you."
"Well, then, we are driven back to the theory that it was done by someone from outside. We are still faced with some big difficulties; but anyhow they have ceased to be impossibilities. The man got into the house between four-thirty and six; that is to say, between dusk and the time when the bridge was raised. There had been some visitors, and the door was open; so there was nothing to prevent him. He may have been a common burglar, or he may have had some private grudge against Mr. Douglas. Since Mr. Douglas has spent most of his life in America, and this shotgun seems to be an American weapon, it would seem that the private grudge is the more likely theory. He slipped into this room because it was the first he came to, and he hid behind the curtain. There he remained until past eleven at night. At that time Mr. Douglas entered the room. It was a short interview, if there were any interview at all; for Mrs. Douglas declares that her husband had not left her more than a few minutes when she heard the shot."
"The candle shows that," said Holmes.
"Exactly. The candle, which was a new one, is not burned more than half an inch. He must have placed it on the table before he was attacked; otherwise, of course, it would have fallen when he fell. This shows that he was not attacked the instant that he entered the room. When Mr. Barker arrived the candle was lit and the lamp was out."
"That's all clear enough."
"Well, now, we can reconstruct things on those lines. Mr. Douglas enters the room. He puts down the candle. A man appears from behind the curtain. He is armed with this gun. He demands the wedding ring--Heaven only knows why, but so it must have been. Mr. Douglas gave it up. Then either in cold blood or in the course of a struggle--Douglas may have gripped the hammer that was found upon the mat--he shot Douglas in this horrible way. He dropped his gun and also it would seem this queer card--V.V. 341, whatever that may mean--and he made his escape through the window and across the moat at the very moment when Cecil Barker was discovering the crime. How's that, Mr. Holmes?"
"Very interesting, but just a little unconvincing."
"Man, it would be absolute nonsense if it wasn't that anything else is even worse!" cried MacDonald. "Somebody killed the man, and whoever it was I could clearly prove to you that he should have done it some other way. What does he mean by allowing his retreat to be cut off like that? What does he mean by using a shotgun when silence was his one chance of escape? Come, Mr. Holmes, it's up to you to give us a lead, since you say Mr. White Mason's theory is unconvincing."
Holmes had sat intently observant during this long discussion, missing no word that was said, with his keen eyes darting to right and to left, and his forehead wrinkled with speculation.
"I should like a few more facts before I get so far as a theory, Mr. Mac," said he, kneeling down beside the body. "Dear me! these injuries are really appalling. Can we have the butler in for a moment?... Ames, I understand that you have often seen this very unusual mark--a branded triangle inside a circle--upon Mr. Douglas's forearm?"
"Frequently, sir."
"You never heard any speculation as to what it meant?"
"No, sir."
"It must have caused great pain when it was inflicted. It is undoubtedly a burn. Now, I observe, Ames, that there is a small piece of plaster at the angle of Mr. Douglas's jaw. Did you observe that in life?"
"Yes, sir, he cut himself in shaving yesterday morning."
"Did you ever know him to cut himself in shaving before?"
"Not for a very long time, sir."
"Suggestive!" said Holmes. "It may, of course, be a mere coincidence, or it may point to some nervousness which would indicate that he had reason to apprehend danger. Had you noticed anything unusual in his conduct, yesterday, Ames?"
"It struck me that he was a little restless and excited, sir."
"Ha! The attack may not have been entirely unexpected. We do seem to make a little progress, do we not? Perhaps you would rather do the questioning, Mr. Mac?"
"No, Mr. Holmes, it's in better hands than mine."
"Well, then, we will pass to this card--V.V. 341. It is rough cardboard. Have you any of the sort in the house?"
"I don't think so."
Holmes walked across to the desk and dabbed a little ink from each bottle on to the blotting paper. "It was not printed in this room," he said; "this is black ink and the other purplish. It was done by a thick pen, and these are fine. No, it was done elsewhere, I should say. Can you make anything of the inscription, Ames?"
"No, sir, nothing."
"What do you think, Mr. Mac?"
"It gives me the impression of a secret society of some sort; the same with his badge upon the forearm."
"That's my idea, too," said White Mason.
"Well, we can adopt it as a working hypothesis and then see how far our difficulties disappear. An agent from such a society makes his way into the house, waits for Mr. Douglas, blows his head nearly off with this weapon, and escapes by wading the moat, after leaving a card beside the dead man, which will, when mentioned in the papers, tell other members of the society that vengeance has been done. That all hangs together. But why this gun, of all weapons?"
"Exactly."
"And why the missing ring?"
"Quite so."
"And why no arrest? It's past two now. I take it for granted that since dawn every constable within forty miles has been looking out for a wet stranger?"
"That is so, Mr. Holmes."
"Well, unless he has a burrow close by or a change of clothes ready, they can hardly miss him. And yet they HAVE missed him up to now!" Holmes had gone to the window and was examining with his lens the blood mark on the sill. "It is clearly the tread of a shoe. It is remarkably broad; a splay-foot, one would say. Curious, because, so far as one can trace any footmark in this mud-stained corner, one would say it was a more shapely sole. However, they are certainly very indistinct. What's this under the side table?"
"Mr. Douglas's dumb-bells," said Ames.
"Dumb-bell--there's only one. Where's the other?"
"I don't know, Mr. Holmes. There may have been only one. I have not noticed them for months."
"One dumb-bell--" Holmes said seriously; but his remarks were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.
A tall, sunburned, capable-looking, clean-shaved man looked in at us. I had no difficulty in guessing that it was the Cecil Barker of whom I had heard. His masterful eyes travelled quickly with a questioning glance from face to face.
"Sorry to interrupt your consultation," said he, "but you should hear the latest news."
"An arrest?"
"No such luck. But they've found his bicycle. The fellow left his bicycle behind him. Come and have a look. It is within a hundred yards of the hall door."
We found three or four grooms and idlers standing in the drive inspecting a bicycle which had been drawn out from a clump of evergreens in which it had been concealed. It was a well used Rudge-Whitworth, splashed as from a considerable journey. There was a saddlebag with spanner and oilcan, but no clue as to the owner.
"It would be a grand help to the police," said the inspector, "if these things were numbered and registered. But we must be thankful for what we've got. If we can't find where he went to, at least we are likely to get where he came from. But what in the name of all that is wonderful made the fellow leave it behind? And how in the world has he got away without it? We don't seem to get a gleam of light in the case, Mr. Holmes."
"Don't we?" my friend answered thoughtfully. "I wonder!"
凌晨三点钟，苏塞克斯的侦探长，接到伯尔斯通警官威尔逊的急电，乘坐一辆轻便单马车从总部赶来，马被累得上岂不接下起。他通过清早五点四十分的那趟火车把报告送到了苏格兰场。中午十二点钟他已在伯尔斯通车站迎候我们了。怀特•梅森先生性情文静、面容安详，穿着一件宽大的花呢外套，红润的脸刮得净光，身体微胖，两条微向里弯的腿刚劲有力，穿着带绊扣的高筒靴子益发显得精神，他看起来象个矮小的庄稼汉，象个退休的猎场看守人，或是说他象个世上的什么人都行，但就是不象地方警署典型的刑事警官。
“麦克唐纳先生，真是一件极不寻常的案子。"怀特•梅森反反复复地说，“报界的人听到这件事就会象苍蝇一样赶来的。我希望在他们来管这闲事并把一切手脚印迹弄乱之前，就把咱们的工作做完。在我的记忆中，还没有遇到过象这样的案子呢。福尔摩斯先生，有某些情况是会使你感兴趣的，要不然就是我弄错了。华生医生，还有你，因为在我们结束工作之前，医生总要发表一些意见的。你们的住房在韦斯特维尔阿姆兹旅店，再找不到其它地方了，不过我听说房子倒还不错，也挺干净。仆人会把你们的行李送去的。先生们，请随我来，好吗？”
这位苏塞克斯的侦探，是一个非常活跃而又和蔼的人。走了十分钟，我们就到了住所，十分钟以后，我们就坐在小旅店休息室里，议论起这件案子的概况了。这些我已在上一章叙述过了。麦克唐纳有时做些记录，福尔摩斯坐在那里，带着吃惊和衷心钦佩的样子专心倾听着，就象植物学家鉴赏珍奇的花朵一样。
“奇怪！"在听了案情介绍以后，福尔摩斯说，“奇怪极了！我想不起来以前有什么比这更奇怪的案子了。”
“福尔摩斯先生，我早想到你会这样说的，"怀特•梅森非常高兴地说，“我们在苏塞克斯算是赶上时代了。到今早三、四点之间我从警官威尔逊手里接过这桩案子为止的全部情况我都告诉你了。我拚着老命赶来！哎呀！结果证明，我本来用不着这么紧赶慢赶的。因为这里没有我能马上做的事。警官威尔逊已经掌握了全部情况。我查对了一下，仔细研究了一番，多少还加了几点我自己的看法。”
“你的看法是什么呢？"福尔摩斯急切地问道。
“嗯，我首先把铁锤仔细检查了一下。医生伍德也在旁帮忙。铁锤上没找到施用暴力的痕迹。我原来想，或许道格拉斯先生曾用这把锤子自卫过，他就可能在把锤子丢到地毯上以前，在上面留下印痕，可是锤子上一点痕迹也没有。”
“当然，这一点儿也证明不了什么问题，"警官麦克唐纳说道，“因为有许多使用铁锤的凶杀案，铁锤上并没有留下痕迹啊。”
“完全是这样。这并不一定能证明没有用过它。不过要果真留下一些痕迹，那对我们就有用了。但事实上却没有。后来我又检查了一下枪支。这是大号铅弹火枪。正象警官威尔逊所指出的那样，扳机缚在一起，所以只要你扣动后面一个扳机，两个枪筒就会同时发射。不管是谁做的这样的处理，肯定他是下了决心决不让他的敌手逃脱厄运。这支截断的枪最多不过二英尺长，一个人能轻而易举地把它藏在大衣里。枪上虽然没有制造者的全名，可是两支枪管间的凹槽上还刻有'PEN'三个字母，名字的其它字母就被锯掉了。”
“那上面是一个花体的大写字母'P'，而'E'和'N'两个字母则较小，是吗？"福尔摩斯问道。
“一点也不错。”
“这是宾夕法尼亚小型武器制造公司，是美国的一家有①名的工厂。"福尔摩斯说。
①宾夕法尼亚（Pennsylvania），美国地名，此系军火工厂名，前三个字母为"PEN"。——译者注
怀特•梅森紧盯着我的朋友，就好象一个小小的农村开业医生望着哈利街的专家一样，这个专家一句话就可以解开使他感到困惑不解的所有疑难问题。
“福尔摩斯先生，这是很有用的。你说得一点也不错。奇怪！奇怪！难道你把世界上所有军火制造厂的名字都记住了吗？”
福尔摩斯挥挥手，岔开了这个话题。
“这支枪无疑是一支美洲火枪，"怀特•梅森继续说道，
“我似乎在书上看到过记载，截短的火枪是在美洲某些地区使用的一种武器。撇开枪管上的名字不谈，我想到一个问题，有些迹象证明：进到屋里并杀死主人的是一个美国人。”
麦克唐纳摇了摇头说道：“老兄，你实在想得太远了。我还根本没有听到过什么证据，说明这所庄园里有外人进来过呢。”
“这大开的窗户、窗台上的血迹、奇怪的名片、墙角的长统靴印及这支火枪又怎么说呢？”
“那里的一切没有什么不可以伪造的。道格拉斯先生是个美国人，或者说曾长期住在美国。巴克先生也是如此。你没有必要从外边弄个美国人来为你所见到的一些美国人的作为寻求解答。”
“那个管家艾姆斯……”
“他怎么样？可靠吗？”
“他在查尔斯•钱多斯爵士那里呆过十年，非常可靠。他是在五年前道格拉斯买下这座庄园时到这里来的。他在庄园里从来没见过一杆这样的枪。”
“这枪已经被改造得便于隐藏了。枪管就是为此而截断的，任何箱子都装得进，他怎么能发誓说庄园中没有这样的枪呢？”
“啊，不管怎么说，他确实从来没有见到过啊。”
麦克唐纳摇了摇他那天生固执的苏格兰人的脑袋。
“我还不能相信有什么外人到房子里来过。我请你考虑考虑，"每当麦克唐纳辩论输了的时候，他的阿伯丁口音就变得更重了，“你假设这支枪是从外面带进来的，并且所有这些怪事是一个外来人干的。我请你考虑一下，你这样的假设会产生什么样的影响。啊，老兄，这简直不可思议！这也完全不合乎一般常识啊。福尔摩斯先生，我向你提出这个问题来。请根据我们所听到的一切判断一下吧。”
“好，麦克先生，讲讲你的理由吧，"福尔摩斯以一种非常公平的口气说。
“假定凶手存在的话，他决不是一个盗窃犯。那只戒指和那张卡片都说明这是出于某种私怨的预谋凶杀案。好，有一个人溜进屋中，蓄意谋杀。他懂得，假如他还懂得点事理的话，他要逃跑是很困难的，因为房子周围全是水。他要选择什么样的武器呢？你一定会说他要的是世界上声音最小的武器。这样他才能指望事成以后，很快就穿过窗户，蹚过护城河，从容不平地逃跑。这是完全可以理解的。可是如果他竟然带着他能选择的发声最大的武器，明知枪声一响，全庄园的人很快就能跑到出事地点，大半在他蹚过护城河以前，人们就会发现他，难道这是可以理解的吗？福尔摩斯先生，这都是可信的吗？”“好，你的理由很充分，"我的朋友若有所思地回答道，“确实需要有大量的理由来证明。怀特•梅森先生，请问，你当时是否立刻到护城河对岸去查过有没有人蹚水上岸的痕迹？”
“福尔摩斯先生，那里没有痕迹。不过对面是石岸，很难设想能找到什么痕迹。”
“没有一点足迹或手印吗？”
“没有。”
“哈！怀特•梅森先生，你不反对我们立即动身到庄园中去么？那里可能会有一些小的线索可以给我们一些启示的。”
“福尔摩斯先生，我本想建议去的，可是我想在我们去以前，最好让你先把一切详情了解清楚。我想，如果有什么触犯了你……"怀特•梅森犹豫不决地看着这位同行说。
“我以前和福尔摩斯先生一起办过案子，"警官麦克唐纳说道，“他一向为人光明磊落。”
福尔摩斯微笑着回答：“至少是按照我个人对这一工作的理解。我参加办案是为了有助于申张正义，帮助警方工作。如果我不与官方合作，那是因为他们首先不与我合作。我从来不想去和他们争功劳。同时，怀特•梅森先生，我要求有权利完全按我自己的思路办案，并且在我认为适当的时间交出我的成果——自始至终，而不只是在某些阶段上有这种权利。”
“我确信，你参加办案是我们的荣幸。我们一定把所知道的全部案情介绍给你，"怀特•梅森热诚地说，“华生医生，请随我来。到时候，我们都希望在您的书里能有一席之地呢。”
我们沿着古雅的乡村街道走去，大街两侧各有一行截梢的榆树。远处是一对古代石柱，已因风吹雨淋而斑驳变色，长满藓苔，石柱顶上的东西已经失去原形，那过去曾经是伯尔斯通的两个后脚立起的石狮。顺着迂回曲折的车道往前走不远，四周尽是草地和栎树，人们只有在英国农村才能看到这种景色。然后是一个急转弯，眼前看到一片长长的、低矮的詹姆士一世时期的古别墅，别墅的砖已成了暗褐色的了。还有一个老式的花园，两旁都有修剪的整整齐齐的紫杉树。我们走到庄园跟前就看到了一座木吊桥和幽美宽阔的护城河，河中的水在寒冬的阳光下象水银一样，一譬如镜，闪闪发光。
这座古老的庄园自从建成以来，时光流逝，已有三百多年了，它反映出几百年的人事沧桑、悲欢离合。奇妙的是，由于历史悠久，好象现在从这些古老的墙上可以显出犯罪的先兆来。还有那些奇怪的高耸的屋顶以及古怪的突出的山墙，更适于掩护可怖的阴谋。当我看到那些阴沉沉的窗户和前面一片暗淡的颜色和水流冲刷的景象时，我感到发生这样一件惨案，没有比这里更适当的场合了。
“这就是那扇窗户，"怀特•梅森说道，“吊桥右边的那一扇，正象昨晚发现时那样地开着。”
“要想钻过一个人去，这扇窗户可够窄的啊。”
“也许这个人并不胖。我们不需要用你的推论来告诉我们这一点，福尔摩斯先生。不过你和我完全可以挤过去。”
福尔摩斯走到护城河边，向对面望去。然后他又查验了突出的石岸和它后面的草地的边缘。
“福尔摩斯先生，我已经仔细看过了，"怀特•梅森说道，“可这里什么也没有，没有任何能说明有人上岸的痕迹。不过，他为什么一定要留下痕迹呢？”
“对啊，他为什么一定要留下痕迹呢？护城河水总是这样浑浊吗？”
“通常是这种颜色。因为河水流下来的时候，总是夹杂着泥沙的。”
“河水有多深？”
“两侧大约两英尺左右，中间有三英尺深。”
“那么，我们可以排除那个人在蹚过护城河时淹死的这种想法了。”
“不会的，就是小孩也不会淹死的。”
我们走过吊桥，一个古怪乖戾而又骨瘦如柴的人把我们迎了进去。这就是管家艾姆斯。可怜的老人受到惊吓，面色苍白，浑身微颤。乡村警官威尔逊是个身材高大、郑重其事和心情抑郁的人，仍然守在现场屋中。医生已经离开了。
“威尔逊警官，有什么新情况吗？"怀特•梅森问道。
“没有，先生。”
“那么，你可以回去了。你已经够辛苦的了。假如有需要你的地方，我们再派人去请你。管家最好在门外等着。让他通知塞西尔•巴克先生、道格拉斯太太和女管家，我们现在有些话要问他们。先生们，现在请允许我先把我的看法告诉你们，然后你们将得出自己的看法。”
这个乡镇专家给我留下的印象很深。他着着实实地掌握着事实，他有冷静、清楚的头脑和丰富的常识。就凭这些，在他的本行事业里，他就应当是很有发展的。福尔摩斯专心致志地听他讲话，丝毫没有这位官方解说人经常流露出来的那种不耐烦的样子。
“我们现在的第一个问题，就是这案子究竟是自杀还是他杀？先生们，对吗？假如说是自杀，那么我们不得不相信，这个人开始先把结婚戒指摘下藏起来，然后他穿着睡衣，走到这里，在窗帘后面的墙角上踩上泥印，以便使人产生印象：有人曾在这里等候他，打开窗户，把血迹弄到……”
“我们决不会这样想的，"麦克唐纳说道。
“所以我想，决不会是自杀。那么必然是他杀了。我们所要决定的就是，凶手是外来人呢，还是庄园里面的人？”
“好，让我们听听你的高论。”
“这两种可能要下结论都相当困难，可是两者必居其一。我们先假定是庄园内部的一个或几个人作案。在万籁俱寂、但人们还没就寝的时候，他们在这里抓到了这个道格拉斯，然后用这种世上最古怪而声音最响的武器去作案，以便搞得尽人皆知发生了什么事，而武器又是庄园内从没见过的。这个理由看来不是那么令人信服，对吗？”
“是啊，不会是这样的。”
“好，那么，这里的人都说，在听到枪声以后，至多不过一分钟，住宅里所有的人都到了现场。虽然塞西尔•巴克先生自称是第一个赶到的，但艾姆斯和所有的仆人也都到了。您难道能说，在那段时间，罪犯竟能做出在墙角留脚印、打开窗户、在窗台上留血迹、从死者手指上取结婚戒指等等那许多事么？这是不可能的！”
“你分析得很透彻，我倒有点同意你的见解。"福尔摩斯说道。
“好，那么，我们回过头来说，这是外来的人作案。可是我们仍然面对许多大难题。不过，无论如何，不是那么不可能的了。这个人是在四点半到六点钟之间进入庄园的，也就是说，是在黄昏和吊桥吊起之间这段时间里。曾经来过一些客人，房门是打开的，所以这个人没有遇到什么阻碍，就溜了进来。他可能只是一般的盗窃犯，也许他和道格拉斯先生有什么私怨。既然道格拉斯先生大半生都住在美洲，而这支猎枪又象是一种美国武器，那么，看来出于私怨是最有可能的了。他溜进了这间屋子，因为他首先看到了它。他藏到窗帘后面，一直藏到夜晚十一点以后。这时，道格拉斯先生进到屋里。交谈时间很短——如果真地交谈过的话——因为道格拉斯太太说，她丈夫离开她没有几分钟，她就听到枪声了。”
“那支蜡烛，可以说明这一点。"福尔摩斯说道。
“不错，这支蜡烛是新的，烧了还不到半英寸。道格拉斯先生一定是先把蜡烛放在桌上，然后才遭到袭击的。否则，他一跌倒，蜡烛一定会掉在地上。这说明在他刚走进屋时没有遭到袭击。巴克先生到这里时，把灯点上，把蜡烛熄灭了。”
“这一点很清楚。”
“好，现在我们可以照此设想当时的情形。道格拉斯先生走进屋来，把蜡烛放下。一个人从窗帘后面走出来，手中拿着这支火枪。他向他要这只结婚戒指——天知道这是为什么，不过一定是这样。道格拉斯先生把戒指给他了。然后道格拉斯先生就被那人残忍地、或是在一场搏斗的过程中，以如此可怕的方式开枪打死了。期间，道格拉斯可能拿起过后来我们在地毯上找到的那只铁锤。事后，凶手丢下枪，大概还有这张奇怪的写着'V．V．341'的卡片——不管它代表什么意思——然后从这扇窗户逃出去，并在塞西尔•巴克先生发现罪案的时候，蹚过护城河逃跑了。福尔摩斯先生，这么说你看怎么样？”“你说得非常有趣，可就是有点不能令人信服。”“老兄，这简直是一派胡言，没有比这更不近情理的了。”麦克唐纳大声喊道，“有人杀害了道格拉斯，不管这个人是谁，我也可以向你们清楚地证明，他是用品它办法作的案。他让他逃跑的退路被那样地切断，那是什么意思啊？寂静无声是他逃跑的一个好条件，那么，他使用火枪作案，又是什么意思啊？喂，福尔摩斯先生，既然你说怀特•梅森先生的推论不能令人信服，那你就应该指点指点我们了。”
在整个漫长的讨论过程里，福尔摩斯都坐在那儿聚精会神地倾听着，不放过他们所说的每一个字眼儿，他那一双敏锐的眼睛东看看，西瞧瞧，双眉紧蹙，沉思不语。
“麦克先生，我想再找些事实，然后才能进行推论，"福尔摩斯跪到死尸旁边，说道，“哎呀！这伤处确实骇人啊。能不能把管家找来一下？……艾姆斯，我听说你常看到道格拉斯先生前臂上有一个奇怪的标记，一个圆圈里套着三角形的烙印，对吗？”
“先生，我经常看到。”
“你从未听说有人推测过这个烙印的意思吗？”
“没听说过，先生。”
“这一定是火烙的标记，烙的时候，一定要受很大痛苦。艾姆斯，我注意到道格拉斯先生下巴后部有一小块药膏。在他活着的时候，你注意到了吗？”
“是的，先生，他昨天早晨刮脸时刮破的。”
“以前你见过他刮破脸吗？”
“先生，很久没有见过了。”
福尔摩斯说道：“这倒值得研究！当然，这也可能是巧合，然而，这也可能说明他有点紧张，说明他预知有危险存在。艾姆斯，昨天你发现主人有反常情况吗？”
“先生，我有一种感觉，他好象有点坐立不安，情绪激动。”
“哈！看来这次袭击不是完全意料不到的。我们已经有些进展了，对吗？麦克先生，或许你还有些什么问题？”
“没有，福尔摩斯先生，你到底是个经验丰富的人。”
“好，那么我们可以研究这张写着'V．V．341'的卡片了。这是一张粗纸硬卡片。在你们庄园里有这样的卡片吗？”
“我想没有。”
福尔摩斯走到写字台前，从每一个墨水瓶里蘸些墨水洒到吸墨纸上。
“这张卡岂不是在这里写的，"福尔摩斯说道，“这是黑墨水，而那张卡片上的字却略带紫色，写时用的是粗笔尖，而这些笔尖都是细的。我认为，这是在别的地方写的。艾姆斯，你能解释这上面的字义吗？”
“不能，先生，一点也不能解释。”
“麦克先生，你的意见呢？”
“我觉得象是某种秘密团体的名称，和前臂上标记的意义一样。”
“我也是这样想的，"怀特•梅森说道。
“好，我们可以把它当作一个合理的假设吧。由此出发，看一看我们的疑难究竟能解决多少。那个团体派来的一个人设法钻进庄园，守候着道格拉斯先生，用这支火枪几乎打掉了他的脑袋，然后蹚过护城河逃跑了。他所以要在死者身旁留下一张卡片，无非为了一个目的，报纸上一登出来，那个团体的其他党徒就能知道：仇已报了。这些事情都是连贯在一起的。可是，武器有的是，他为什么单单要用这种火枪呢？”
“是啊。”
“还有，丢失的戒指又是怎么回事呢？”
“对呀。”
“现在已经两点多了，为什么还没有拿获凶手呢？我认为肯定从天亮以后，方圆四十英里内，每一个警察都在搜寻一个浑身湿淋淋的外来人。”
“福尔摩斯先生，正是这样。”
“好，除非他在附近有个藏身之处，或者事先准备好一套替换的衣服，他们是不会让他溜掉的。但现在他们不是已经把他放过了吗？"福尔摩斯走到窗旁，用他的放大镜察看窗台上的血迹，说道，“很显然这是一个鞋印，很宽——大概是八字脚。真怪呀，不管是谁到这沾满泥污的墙角来察看脚印，他都会说这个鞋底式样倒不错。可是，当然了，很不清楚。旁边这桌子底下是什么呢？”
“是道格拉斯先生的哑铃，"艾姆斯说道。
“哑铃？这里只有一个。另外那个哑铃在哪儿呢？”
“我不知道，福尔摩斯先生。也可能本来就只有一只。我有好几个月没看到这东西了。”
“一只哑铃……"福尔摩斯严肃地说，可是话还没说完，就被一阵急剧的敲门声打断了。一个身材高大、晒得黝黑、外表精干、脸刮得精光的人探头看着我们。我一下子就猜出来了，这就是我听人讲过的塞西尔•巴克。他用傲慢的疑问目光迅速扫视了大家一眼。
“对不起，打断了你们的谈话，"巴克说道，“不过，诸位应该听听最新的情况了。”
“逮着凶手了吗？”
“没有这样的好事。不过人们已经找到他的自行车了。这家伙把他的自行车扔下了。请你们来看看，放在大厅门外一百码的地方。”
我们看到三四个仆人和几个闲汉站在马车道上查看那辆自行车，车子原是藏在常青树丛里，后来才被拖出来的。这是一辆用得很旧的拉奇•惠特沃思牌的自行车。车上溅着不少泥浆，好象骑过相当远的路。车座后面有一个工具袋，里面有扳子和油壶，可是究竟车主是谁，却没有什么线索。
“如果这些东西都曾登记、编号，对警方就很有帮助了，”警官说道，“不过咱们能得到这些东西，也就应该感激不尽了。即使我们弄不清他到什么地方去了，至少我们很可能弄清他是从哪儿来的了。不过，这个家伙究竟为什么要丢下这辆车子呢？这倒是件怪事。他不汽车子，又是怎么走的呢？福尔摩斯先生，我们这件案子似乎还看不出一点眉目来呢。”
“真看不出一点眉目来吗？"我的朋友若有所思地答道，“我看不一定！”
Part 1 Chapter 5 The People of the Drama
"Have you seen all you want of the study?" asked White Mason as we reentered the house.
"For the time," said the inspector, and Holmes nodded.
"Then perhaps you would now like to hear the evidence of some of the people in the house. We could use the dining room, Ames. Please come yourself first and tell us what you know."
The butler's account was a simple and a clear one, and he gave a convincing impression of sincerity. He had been engaged five years before, when Douglas first came to Birlstone. He understood that Mr. Douglas was a rich gentleman who had made his money in America. He had been a kind and considerate employer--not quite what Ames was used to, perhaps; but one can't have everything. He never saw any signs of apprehension in Mr. Douglas: on the contrary, he was the most fearless man he had ever known. He ordered the drawbridge to be pulled up every night because it was the ancient custom of the old house, and he liked to keep the old ways up.
Mr. Douglas seldom went to London or left the village; but on the day before the crime he had been shopping at Tunbridge Wells. He (Ames) had observed some restlessness and excitement on the part of Mr. Douglas that day; for he had seemed impatient and irritable, which was unusual with him. He had not gone to bed that night; but was in the pantry at the back of the house, putting away the silver, when he heard the bell ring violently. He heard no shot; but it was hardly possible he would, as the pantry and kitchens were at the very back of the house and there were several closed doors and a long passage between. The housekeeper had come out of her room, attracted by the violent ringing of the bell. They had gone to the front of the house together.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs he had seen Mrs. Douglas coming down it. No, she was not hurrying; it did not seem to him that she was particularly agitated. Just as she reached the bottom of the stair Mr. Barker had rushed out of the study. He had stopped Mrs. Douglas and begged her to go back.
"For God's sake, go back to your room!" he cried. "Poor Jack is dead! You can do nothing. For God's sake, go back!"
After some persuasion upon the stairs Mrs. Douglas had gone back. She did not scream. She made no outcry whatever. Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, had taken her upstairs and stayed with her in the bedroom. Ames and Mr. Barker had then returned to the study, where they had found everything exactly as the police had seen it. The candle was not lit at that time; but the lamp was burning. They had looked out of the window; but the night was very dark and nothing could be seen or heard. They had then rushed out into the hall, where Ames had turned the windlass which lowered the drawbridge. Mr. Barker had then hurried off to get the police.
Such, in its essentials, was the evidence of the butler.
The account of Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, was, so far as it went, a corroboration of that of her fellow servant. The housekeeper's room was rather nearer to the front of the house than the pantry in which Ames had been working. She was preparing to go to bed when the loud ringing of the bell had attracted her attention. She was a little hard of hearing. Perhaps that was why she had not heard the shot; but in any case the study was a long way off. She remembered hearing some sound which she imagined to be the slamming of a door. That was a good deal earlier--half an hour at least before the ringing of the bell. When Mr. Ames ran to the front she went with him. She saw Mr. Barker, very pale and excited, come out of the study. He intercepted Mrs. Douglas, who was coming down the stairs. He entreated her to go back, and she answered him, but what she said could not be heard.
"Take her up! Stay with her!" he had said to Mrs. Allen.
She had therefore taken her to the bedroom, and endeavoured to soothe her. She was greatly excited, trembling all over, but made no other attempt to go downstairs. She just sat in her dressing gown by her bedroom fire, with her head sunk in her hands. Mrs. Allen stayed with her most of the night. As to the other servants, they had all gone to bed, and the alarm did not reach them until just before the police arrived. They slept at the extreme back of the house, and could not possibly have heard anything.
So far the housekeeper could add nothing on cross-examination save lamentations and expressions of amazement.
Cecil Barker succeeded Mrs. Allen as a witness. As to the occurrences of the night before, he had very little to add to what he had already told the police. Personally, he was convinced that the murderer had escaped by the window. The bloodstain was conclusive, in his opinion, on that point. Besides, as the bridge was up, there was no other possible way of escaping. He could not explain what had become of the assassin or why he had not taken his bicycle, if it were indeed his. He could not possibly have been drowned in the moat, which was at no place more than three feet deep.
In his own mind he had a very definite theory about the murder. Douglas was a reticent man, and there were some chapters in his life of which he never spoke. He had emigrated to America when he was a very young man. He had prospered well, and Barker had first met him in California, where they had become partners in a successful mining claim at a place called Benito Canon. They had done very well; but Douglas had suddenly sold out and started for England. He was a widower at that time. Barker had afterwards realized his money and come to live in London. Thus they had renewed their friendship.
Douglas had given him the impression that some danger was hanging over his head, and he had always looked upon his sudden departure from California, and also his renting a house in so quiet a place in England, as being connected with this peril. He imagined that some secret society, some implacable organization, was on Douglas's track, which would never rest until it killed him. Some remarks of his had given him this idea; though he had never told him what the society was, nor how he had come to offend it. He could only suppose that the legend upon the placard had some reference to this secret society.
"How long were you with Douglas in California?" asked Inspector MacDonald.
"Five years altogether."
"He was a bachelor, you say?"
"A widower."
"Have you ever heard where his first wife came from?"
"No, I remember his saying that she was of German extraction, and I have seen her portrait. She was a very beautiful woman. She died of typhoid the year before I met him."
"You don't associate his past with any particular part of America?"
"I have heard him talk of Chicago. He knew that city well and had worked there. I have heard him talk of the coal and iron districts. He had travelled a good deal in his time."
"Was he a politician? Had this secret society to do with politics?"
"No, he cared nothing about politics."
"You have no reason to think it was criminal?"
"On the contrary, I never met a straighter man in my life."
"Was there anything curious about his life in California?"
"He liked best to stay and to work at our claim in the mountains. He would never go where other men were if he could help it. That's why I first thought that someone was after him. Then when he left so suddenly for Europe I made sure that it was so. I believe that he had a warning of some sort. Within a week of his leaving half a dozen men were inquiring for him."
"What sort of men?"
"Well, they were a mighty hard-looking crowd. They came up to the claim and wanted to know where he was. I told them that he was gone to Europe and that I did not know where to find him. They meant him no good--it was easy to see that."
"Were these men Americans--Californians?"
"Well, I don't know about Californians. They were Americans, all right. But they were not miners. I don't know what they were, and was very glad to see their backs."
"That was six years ago?"
"Nearer seven."
"And then you were together five years in California, so that this business dates back not less than eleven years at the least?"
"That is so."
"It must be a very serious feud that would be kept up with such earnestness for as long as that. It would be no light thing that would give rise to it."
"I think it shadowed his whole life. It was never quite out of his mind."
"But if a man had a danger hanging over him, and knew what it was, don't you think he would turn to the police for protection?"
"Maybe it was some danger that he could not be protected against. There's one thing you should know. He always went about armed. His revolver was never out of his pocket. But, by bad luck, he was in his dressing gown and had left it in the bedroom last night. Once the bridge was up, I guess he thought he was safe."
"I should like these dates a little clearer," said MacDonald. "It is quite six years since Douglas left California. You followed him next year, did you not?"
"That is so."
"And he had been married five years. You must have returned about the time of his marriage."
"About a month before. I was his best man."
"Did you know Mrs. Douglas before her marriage?"
"No, I did not. I had been away from England for ten years."
"But you have seen a good deal of her since."
Barker looked sternly at the detective. "I have seen a good deal of HIM since," he answered. "If I have seen her, it is because you cannot visit a man without knowing his wife. If you imagine there is any connection--"
"I imagine nothing, Mr. Barker. I am bound to make every inquiry which can bear upon the case. But I mean no offense."
"Some inquiries are offensive," Barker answered angrily.
"It's only the facts that we want. It is in your interest and everyone's interest that they should be cleared up. Did Mr. Douglas entirely approve your friendship with his wife?"
Barker grew paler, and his great, strong hands were clasped convulsively together. "You have no right to ask such questions!" he cried. "What has this to do with the matter you are investigating?"
"I must repeat the question."
"Well, I refuse to answer."
"You can refuse to answer; but you must be aware that your refusal is in itself an answer, for you would not refuse if you had not something to conceal."
Barker stood for a moment with his face set grimly and his strong black eyebrows drawn low in intense thought. Then he looked up with a smile. "Well, I guess you gentlemen are only doing your clear duty after all, and I have no right to stand in the way of it. I'd only ask you not to worry Mrs. Douglas over this matter; for she has enough upon her just now. I may tell you that poor Douglas had just one fault in the world, and that was his jealousy. He was fond of me--no man could be fonder of a friend. And he was devoted to his wife. He loved me to come here, and was forever sending for me. And yet if his wife and I talked together or there seemed any sympathy between us, a kind of wave of jealousy would pass over him, and he would be off the handle and saying the wildest things in a moment. More than once I've sworn off coming for that reason, and then he would write me such penitent, imploring letters that I just had to. But you can take it from me, gentlemen, if it was my last word, that no man ever had a more loving, faithful wife--and I can say also no friend could be more loyal than I!"
It was spoken with fervour and feeling, and yet Inspector MacDonald could not dismiss the subject.
"You are aware," said he, "that the dead man's wedding ring has been taken from his finger?"
"So it appears," said Barker.
"What do you mean by 'appears'? You know it as a fact."
The man seemed confused and undecided. "When I said 'appears' I meant that it was conceivable that he had himself taken off the ring."
"The mere fact that the ring should be absent, whoever may have removed it, would suggest to anyone's mind, would it not, that the marriage and the tragedy were connected?"
Barker shrugged his broad shoulders. "I can't profess to say what it means," he answered. "But if you mean to hint that it could reflect in any way upon this lady's honour"--his eyes blazed for an instant, and then with an evident effort he got a grip upon his own emotions--"well, you are on the wrong track, that's all."
"I don't know that I've anything else to ask you at present," said MacDonald, coldly.
"There was one small point," remarked Sherlock Holmes. "When you entered the room there was only a candle lighted on the table, was there not?"
"Yes, that was so."
"By its light you saw that some terrible incident had occurred?"
"Exactly."
"You at once rang for help?"
"Yes."
"And it arrived very speedily?"
"Within a minute or so."
"And yet when they arrived they found that the candle was out and that the lamp had been lighted. That seems very remarkable."
Again Barker showed some signs of indecision. "I don't see that it was remarkable, Mr. Holmes," he answered after a pause. "The candle threw a very bad light. My first thought was to get a better one. The lamp was on the table; so I lit it."
"And blew out the candle?"
"Exactly."
Holmes asked no further question, and Barker, with a deliberate look from one to the other of us, which had, as it seemed to me, something of defiance in it, turned and left the room.
Inspector MacDonald had sent up a note to the effect that he would wait upon Mrs. Douglas in her room; but she had replied that she would meet us in the dining room. She entered now, a tall and beautiful woman of thirty, reserved and self-possessed to a remarkable degree, very different from the tragic and distracted figure I had pictured. It is true that her face was pale and drawn, like that of one who has endured a great shock; but her manner was composed, and the finely moulded hand which she rested upon the edge of the table was as steady as my own. Her sad, appealing eyes travelled from one to the other of us with a curiously inquisitive expression. That questioning gaze transformed itself suddenly into abrupt speech.
"Have you found anything out yet?" she asked.
Was it my imagination that there was an undertone of fear rather than of hope in the question?
"We have taken every possible step, Mrs. Douglas," said the inspector. "You may rest assured that nothing will be neglected."
"Spare no money," she said in a dead, even tone. "It is my desire that every possible effort should be made."
"Perhaps you can tell us something which may throw some light upon the matter."
"I fear not; but all I know is at your service."
"We have heard from Mr. Cecil Barker that you did not actually see--that you were never in the room where the tragedy occurred?"
"No, he turned me back upon the stairs. He begged me to return to my room."
"Quite so. You had heard the shot, and you had at once come down."
"I put on my dressing gown and then came down."
"How long was it after hearing the shot that you were stopped on the stair by Mr. Barker?"
"It may have been a couple of minutes. It is so hard to reckon time at such a moment. He implored me not to go on. He assured me that I could do nothing. Then Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, led me upstairs again. It was all like some dreadful dream."
"Can you give us any idea how long your husband had been downstairs before you heard the shot?"
"No, I cannot say. He went from his dressing room, and I did not hear him go. He did the round of the house every night, for he was nervous of fire. It is the only thing that I have ever known him nervous of."
"That is just the point which I want to come to, Mrs. Douglas. You have known your husband only in England, have you not?"
"Yes, we have been married five years."
"Have you heard him speak of anything which occurred in America and might bring some danger upon him?"
Mrs. Douglas thought earnestly before she answered. "Yes," she said at last, "I have always felt that there was a danger hanging over him. He refused to discuss it with me. It was not from want of confidence in me--there was the most complete love and confidence between us--but it was out of his desire to keep all alarm away from me. He thought I should brood over it if I knew all, and so he was silent."
"How did you know it, then?"
Mrs. Douglas's face lit with a quick smile. "Can a husband ever carry about a secret all his life and a woman who loves him have no suspicion of it? I knew it by his refusal to talk about some episodes in his American life. I knew it by certain precautions he took. I knew it by certain words he let fall. I knew it by the way he looked at unexpected strangers. I was perfectly certain that he had some powerful enemies, that he believed they were on his track, and that he was always on his guard against them. I was so sure of it that for years I have been terrified if ever he came home later than was expected."
"Might I ask," asked Holmes, "what the words were which attracted your attention?"
"The Valley of Fear," the lady answered. "That was an expression he has used when I questioned him. 'I have been in the Valley of Fear. I am not out of it yet.'--'Are we never to get out of the Valley of Fear?' I have asked him when I have seen him more serious than usual. 'Sometimes I think that we never shall,' he has answered."
"Surely you asked him what he meant by the Valley of Fear?"
"I did; but his face would become very grave and he would shake his head. 'It is bad enough that one of us should have been in its shadow,' he said. 'Please God it shall never fall upon you!' It was some real valley in which he had lived and in which something terrible had occurred to him, of that I am certain; but I can tell you no more."
"And he never mentioned any names?"
"Yes, he was delirious with fever once when he had his hunting accident three years ago. Then I remember that there was a name that came continually to his lips. He spoke it with anger and a sort of horror. McGinty was the name--Bodymaster McGinty. I asked him when he recovered who Bodymaster McGinty was, and whose body he was master of. 'Never of mine, thank God!' he answered with a laugh, and that was all I could get from him. But there is a connection between Bodymaster McGinty and the Valley of Fear."
"There is one other point," said Inspector MacDonald. "You met Mr. Douglas in a boarding house in London, did you not, and became engaged to him there? Was there any romance, anything secret or mysterious, about the wedding?"
"There was romance. There is always romance. There was nothing mysterious."
"He had no rival?"
"No, I was quite free."
"You have heard, no doubt, that his wedding ring has been taken. Does that suggest anything to you? Suppose that some enemy of his old life had tracked him down and committed this crime, what possible reason could he have for taking his wedding ring?"
For an instant I could have sworn that the faintest shadow of a smile flickered over the woman's lips.
"I really cannot tell," she answered. "It is certainly a most extraordinary thing."
"Well, we will not detain you any longer, and we are sorry to have put you to this trouble at such a time," said the inspector. "There are some other points, no doubt; but we can refer to you as they arise."
She rose, and I was again conscious of that quick, questioning glance with which she had just surveyed us. "What impression has my evidence made upon you?" The question might as well have been spoken. Then, with a bow, she swept from the room.
"She's a beautiful woman--a very beautiful woman," said MacDonald thoughtfully, after the door had closed behind her. "This man Barker has certainly been down here a good deal. He is a man who might be attractive to a woman. He admits that the dead man was jealous, and maybe he knew best himself what cause he had for jealousy. Then there's that wedding ring. You can't get past that. The man who tears a wedding ring off a dead man's--What do you say to it, Mr. Holmes?"
My friend had sat with his head upon his hands, sunk in the deepest thought. Now he rose and rang the bell. "Ames," he said, when the butler entered, "where is Mr. Cecil Barker now?"
"I'll see, sir."
He came back in a moment to say that Barker was in the garden.
"Can you remember, Ames, what Mr. Barker had on his feet last night when you joined him in the study?"
"Yes, Mr. Holmes. He had a pair of bedroom slippers. I brought him his boots when he went for the police."
"Where are the slippers now?"
"They are still under the chair in the hall."
"Very good, Ames. It is, of course, important for us to know which tracks may be Mr. Barker's and which from outside."
"Yes, sir. I may say that I noticed that the slippers were stained with blood--so indeed were my own."
"That is natural enough, considering the condition of the room. Very good, Ames. We will ring if we want you."
A few minutes later we were in the study. Holmes had brought with him the carpet slippers from the hall. As Ames had observed, the soles of both were dark with blood.
"Strange!" murmured Holmes, as he stood in the light of the window and examined them minutely. "Very strange indeed!"
Stooping with one of his quick feline pounces, he placed the slipper upon the blood mark on the sill. It exactly corresponded. He smiled in silence at his colleagues.
The inspector was transfigured with excitement. His native accent rattled like a stick upon railings.
"Man," he cried, "there's not a doubt of it! Barker has just marked the window himself. It's a good deal broader than any bootmark. I mind that you said it was a splay-foot, and here's the explanation. But what's the game, Mr. Holmes--what's the game?"
"Ay, what's the game?" my friend repeated thoughtfully.
White Mason chuckled and rubbed his fat hands together in his professional satisfaction. "I said it was a snorter!" he cried. "And a real snorter it is!"
我们重新回到屋里时，怀特•梅森问道：“你们对书房要检查的地方，都检查完了吗？”
“暂时就算完了，"警官麦克唐纳回答道，福尔摩斯也点了点头。
“那么，现在你们愿意听听庄园里一些人的证词吗？我们就利用这间餐室吧，艾姆斯，请你先来把你所知道的事情告诉我们。”
管家的叙述简单、明了，给人一种诚实可靠的印象。他还是在五年前道格拉斯先生刚到伯尔斯通时受雇的。他知道道格拉斯先生是一个很有钱的绅士，是在美洲致富的。道格拉斯先生是一位和蔼可亲、善于体贴人的主人——或许艾姆斯对这个不完全习惯，不过，一个人不能事事具备。他从来没见过道格拉斯先生有过什么惊恐的迹象 ，相反，道格拉斯先生是他所见过的最大胆的人。道格拉斯先生之所以叫人每晚把吊桥拉起，只是因为这是古老庄园的古老的习俗，道格拉斯先生喜欢把这种古老的习俗保持下去。道格拉斯先生很少到伦敦去，也难得离开村子，不过，在被害的头一天，曾到滕布里奇韦尔斯市去买过东西。那天，艾姆斯发现道格拉斯先生有些坐卧不安，情绪激动，看来他是一反往常，变得性情急躁，容易发火。发案那天晚上，艾姆斯还没有就寝，正在房后面的餐具室里收拾银器，忽然听到铃声大作。他没有听到枪声，因为餐具室和厨房在庄园的最后面，中间还隔着几重关着的门和一条长廊，所以确实很难听到。艾伦太太也因为听到急促的铃声，赶忙跑出来，他们就一起跑到前厅。他们跑到楼下时，艾姆斯看到道格拉斯太太正从楼梯上走下来。不，她走得并不急，艾姆斯觉得，道格拉斯太太并不显得特别惊慌。她一到楼下，巴克先生就从书房里冲了出来，他极力阻拦道格拉斯太太，央求她回到楼上去。
“看在上帝面上，你快回自己房里去吧！"巴克先生喊道，“可怜的杰克已经死了，你也无能为力了。看在上帝面上，快①回去吧！”
巴克先生劝说了一会儿，道格拉斯太太就回到楼上去了。她既没有尖叫，也没有大喊大闹。女管家艾伦太太陪她上了楼，一起留在卧室里。艾姆斯和巴克先生回到书房，他们所看①杰克为约翰的爱称，死者的全名为约翰•道格拉斯。——译者注到的屋内一切情况，完全和警署来人所看到的一样。那时烛光已经熄灭了，可是油灯还点着呢。他们从窗里向外望，但那天晚上非常黑，什么东西也看不见，听不到。后来他们奔到大厅，艾姆斯在这里摇动卷扬机放下吊桥，巴克先生就匆匆地赶到警署去了。
这就是管家艾姆斯的简要证词。
女管家艾伦太太的说法，充其量也不过是进一步证实了与她共事的男管家的证词。女管家的卧室到前厅比到艾姆斯收拾银器的餐具室要近一些，她正准备睡觉，忽听一阵铃声大作。她有点儿耳聋，所以没有听到枪声，不过，无论如何，书房是离得很远的。她记得听到一种声响，她把它当作砰的一下关门声。这还是早得多的事，至少在铃响半小时以前。在艾姆斯跑到前厅时，她是同艾姆斯一起去的。她看到巴克先生从书房出来，脸色苍白，神情激动。巴克先生看到道格拉斯夫人下楼，就截住了她，劝她转回楼上。道格拉斯夫人答了话，但听不见她都说了些什么。
“扶她上去，陪着她，"巴克先生对艾伦太太说道。
所以艾伦太太把道格拉斯夫人扶到卧室，并竭力安慰她。道格拉斯夫人大受惊恐，浑身发抖，但也没有表示要再下楼去。她只是穿着睡衣，双手抱着头，坐在卧室壁炉旁边。艾伦太太几乎整晚都陪着她。至于其他仆人，都已入睡了，不曾受到惊恐，直到警察到来之前，他们才知道出了事。他们都住在庄园最后面的地方，所以多半也听不到什么声音。
至于女管家艾伦太太，她除了悲伤和吃惊以外，在盘问中一点也没有补充出什么新情况。
艾伦太太说完，塞西尔•巴克先生作为目击者，接着讲述了当时的情况。至于那晚发生的事情，除了他已经告诉警察的以外，补充的情况非常少。他个人确信，凶手是从窗户逃走的。他的意见是，窗台上的血迹就是这一论点的确凿证据。此外，因为吊桥已经拉起来，也没有其他方法可以逃走。但他却不能解释刺客的情况是怎样的，假如自行车确实是刺客的，为什么他不骑走呢？刺客不可能淹死在护城河里，因为河水没有超过三英尺深的地方。
巴克先生认为，关于凶手，他有一种非常明确的看法。道格拉斯是一个沉默寡言的人，对他以前的生活，有些部分他从来不曾对人讲过。他还非常年轻时，就从爱尔兰移居到美洲了。他的景况日渐富裕，巴克是在加利福尼亚州和他初次相识，他们便合伙在该州一个叫做贝尼托坎营的地方经营矿业。事业很成功，不料道格拉斯突然把它变卖，动身到英国来了。那时他正在鳏居。巴克随后也把产业变卖了，迁到伦敦来住。于是他们的友谊又重新恢复起来。道格拉斯给他的印象是：总有一种迫在眉睫的危险在威胁着他。道格拉斯突然离开加利福尼亚，在英国这么平静的地方租下房子，巴克先生一直认为都与这种危险有关。巴克先生料想一定有个什么秘密团体，或是说一个决不饶人的组织，一直在追踪道格拉斯，不把他杀死誓不罢休。尽管道格拉斯从来没讲过那是一种什么团体，也没讲过怎样得罪了他们，但道格拉斯的只言片语使巴克产生了上述想法。他仅能推测这张卡片上的字一定和那个秘密团体有些关系。
“你在加利福尼亚和道格拉斯一起住了多长时间？"警官麦克唐纳问道。
“一共五年。”
“你说，他是一个单身汉吗？”
“那时他是个鳏夫。”
“你可曾听说他前妻的来历吗？”
“没有，我只记得他说过她是德国血统，我也看到过她的像片，是一个很美丽的女子。就在我和道格拉斯结识的前一年，她得伤寒病死去了。”
“你知不知道道格拉斯过去和美国的某一地区有密切关系？”
“我听他讲过芝加哥。他对这个城市很热悉，并且在那里作过事。我听他讲过产煤和产铁的一些地区。他生前周游过很多地方。”
“他是政治家吗？这个秘密团体和政治有关系吗？”
“不，他根本不关心政治。”
“你可认为他做过犯罪的事么？”
“恰恰相反，在我一生里，从来没遇到过象他这样正直的人。”
“他在加利福尼亚州时，生活上有什么古怪的地方吗？”
“他最喜欢到山里来，来我们的矿区工作。他总是尽可能不到生人多的地方去。所以我才首先想到有人在追踪他。后来，当他那么突然地离开那里到欧洲去，我愈发相信是这么回事了。我相信他曾经接到某种警告。在他走后的一星期里，曾有五六个人向我打听过他的行踪。”
“是些什么人呢？”
“嗯，是一群看来非常冷酷无情的人。他们来到矿区，打听道格拉斯在什么地方。我告诉他们说，他已经到欧洲去了，我也不知道他住在什么地方。不难看出，他们对他不怀好意。”
“这些人是美国人，也是加利福尼亚人吧？”
“这个，对于加利福尼亚人，我不太了解。但他们确实都是美国人，不过他们不是矿工。我不知道他们是些什么人，只巴不得他们快点走开。”
“那是六年以前的事吧？”
“将近七年了。”
“这么说，你们在加利福尼亚一起住了五年，所以，这桩事不是至少有十一年了么？”
“是这样。”
“其中一定有不共戴天的冤仇，隔了这么长的时间，还不能忘怀。形成冤仇的原因看来决不是小事。”
“我以为这就是道格拉斯一生中的隐患，使他永远难以忘怀。”
“不过，一个人大难临头，而且知道是怎样的危难，你想，他哪有不求警察保护的道理呢？”
“也许这种危险是别人无法保护他的。有一件事你们应当知道。他出门总是带着武器的。他的手枪从来不离开他的衣袋。但是，不幸的是，昨晚他只穿着睡衣，把手枪留在卧室里了。我猜想，他一定以为吊桥一拉起来，他就安全了。”
麦克唐纳说道：“我希望再把年代弄清楚些。道格拉斯离开加利福尼亚州整六年了。你不是在第二年就随之而来了吗？”
“是的。”
“他再婚已经有五年了。你一定是在他结婚前后那年回来的吧。”
“大约在他结婚前一个月。我还是他的男傧相呢。”
“道格拉斯夫人结婚以前，你认识她吗？”
“不，我不认识她。我离开英国已经有十年了。”
“可是从那以后，你常常和她见面吧？”
巴克严肃地望着那个侦探。
“从那时期，我常常和她见面，"巴克回答道，“至于我和她见面，那是因为你不可能去拜访一个朋友，而不认识他的妻子。假使你想象其中有什么牵连……”
“巴克先生，我什么也没有想象。凡是与这案件有关的每一件事，我都有责任查问。不过，我不打算冒犯你。”
“有些责问就是无礼的，"巴克怒气冲冲地答道。
“这只不过是我们需要了解一些事实，弄清这些事实对你和大家都有好处。你和道格拉斯夫人的友情，道格拉斯先生完全赞成吗？”
巴克脸色更加苍白，两只有力的大手痉挛似地紧握在一起。
“你没有权力问这样的问题！"他大声喊道，“这和你所调查的事情有什么关系呢？”
“我一定要提这个问题。”
“那么，我拒绝回答。”
“你可以拒绝回答，不过你要知道，你拒绝回答本身就是回答，因为你如果没有需要隐瞒的事，你就不会拒绝回答了。”
巴克绷着脸站了一会儿，那双浓重的黑眉皱起来，苦思不已。然后他又微笑着抬起头来说道：“嗯，不管怎么说，我想诸位先生们毕竟是在执行公事。我没有权力从中阻梗。我只想请求你们不要让这件事再去烦扰道格拉斯夫人了，因为她现在已经够受的了。我可以告诉你们，可怜的道格拉斯就是有一个缺点，就是他的嫉妒心。他对我非常友爱——没有人对朋友比他对我更友爱了。他对妻子的爱情也非常专一。他愿意叫我到这里来，并且经常派人去找我来。可是如果他的妻子和我一起谈话或是我和他妻子之间好象有些互相同情的时候，他就会大发醋劲，勃然大怒，马上说出最粗野的话来。我曾不止一次为此发誓不再到这里来。可是事后他又给我写信，向我表示忏悔，哀求我，我也只好不计较这些了。不过，先生们，你们可以听我说一句结论性的话，那就是，天下再也没有象道格拉斯夫人这样爱丈夫、忠诚于丈夫的妻子；我还敢说，天下也没有比我更忠诚的朋友了。”
话说得热情洋溢、感情真挚，然而警官麦克唐纳还是没有转移话题，他问道：“你知道死者的结婚戒指被人从手指上取走了吧？”
“看来象是这样，"巴克说道。
“你说'看来象'是什么意思？你知道这是事实啊。”
巴克这时看来有些惊惶不安和犹豫不决。他说道：“我说'看来象'，意思是，说不定是他自己把戒指取下来的呢。”
“事实是戒指既然已经不见了，不管是什么人取下的，任何人都会由此想到一个问题：这婚姻和这桩惨案会不会有什么联系呢？”
巴克耸了耸他那宽阔的肩膀。
“我不能硬说它使人想起什么，"巴克答道，“可是如果你暗示：这件事不管是什么理由，可能反映出不利于道格拉斯夫人名誉的问题的话，"一瞬间，他双目燃起了怒火，然后他显然是拚命地克制住了自己的感情，“那么，你们的思路就算是引入歧途了。我要说的话就是这些。”
“我想，现在我没有什么事要问你了，"麦克唐纳冷冷地说道。
“还有一个小问题。"歇洛克•福尔摩斯提问道，“当你走进这间屋子的时候，桌上只是点着一支蜡烛，是吗？”
“对，是这样。”
“你就从烛光中看到了发生的可怕事情吗？”
“不错。”
“你就马上按铃求援了吗？”
“对。”
“他们来得非常快吗？”
“大概在一分钟之内就都来了。”
“可是他们来到的时候，看到蜡烛已经熄灭，油灯已经点上，这似乎有点奇怪吧。”
巴克又现出有些犹豫不决的样子。
“福尔摩斯先生，我看不出这有什么奇怪的，"停了一下，他才答道，“蜡烛光很暗，我首先想到的是让屋子更亮一些。正好这灯就在桌子上，所以我就把灯点上了。”
“你把蜡烛吹灭的吗？”
“是的。”
福尔摩斯没有再提什么问题。巴克不慌不忙地看了我们每个人一眼，转身走出去。我觉得，他的行动似乎反映着对立情绪。
警官麦克唐纳派人给道格拉斯夫人送去一张纸条，大意是说，他将到她卧室去拜访，可是她回答说，她要在餐室中会见我们。她现在走进来了，是个年方三十、身材颀长、容貌秀美的女子，沉默寡言，极为冷静沉着。我本以为她一定悲惨不安、心烦意乱，谁知却完全不是那样。她确实面色苍白而瘦削，正象一个受过极大震惊的人一样，可是她的举止却镇静自若，她那纤秀的手扶在桌上，和我的手一样，一点也没有颤抖。她那一双悲伤、哀怨的眼睛，带着异常探询的眼光扫视了我们大家一眼。她那探询的目光突然转化成出岂不意的话语，问道：“你们可有什么发现么？”
这难道是我的想象么？为什么她发问的时候带着惊恐，而不是希望的口气呢？
“道格拉斯夫人，我们已经采取了一切可能的措施，"麦克唐纳说道，“你尽可放心，我们不会忽略什么的。”
“请不要吝惜金钱，"她毫无表情、心平气和地说道，“我要求你们尽一切力量去查清。”
“或许你能告诉我们有助于查清这件案子的事吧？”
“恐怕说不好，但我所知道的一切，都可以告诉你们。”
“我们听塞西尔•巴克先生说你实际上没有看到，也就是说，你并没有到发生惨案的屋子里面去，对吗？”
“没有去，巴克让我回到楼上去了。他恳求我回到我的卧室去。”
“确实是这样，你听到了枪声，而且马上就下楼了。”
“我穿上睡衣就下楼了。”
“从你听到枪声，到巴克先生在楼下阻拦你，中间隔了多少时候？”
“大约有两分钟吧，在这样的时刻是很难计算时间的。巴克先生恳求我不要前去。他说我是无能为力的。后来，女管家艾伦太太就把我扶回楼上了。这真象是一场可怕的恶梦。”
“你能不能大体上告诉我们，你丈夫下楼多久你就听到了枪声？”
“不，我说不清楚。因为他是从更衣室下楼的，我没有听到他走出去。因为他怕失火，所以每天晚上都要在庄园里绕一圈。我只知道他唯一害怕的东西就是火灾。”
“道格拉斯夫人，这正是我想要谈到的问题。你和你丈夫是在英国才认识的，对不对？”
“对，我们已经结婚五年了。”
“你听到他讲过在美洲发生过什么危及到他的事吗？”
道格拉斯夫人认真地思索了一会儿才答道，“对，我总觉得有一种危险在时刻威胁着他，但他不肯与我商量。这并不是因为他不信任我，顺便说一句，我们夫妻一向无比恩爱，推心置腹，而是因为他不想叫我担惊受怕。他认为如果我知道了一切，就会惊惶不安。所以他就不声不响了。”
“那你是怎么知道的呢？”
道格拉斯夫人脸上掠过一丝笑容，说道：“做丈夫的一生保守着秘密，而热爱着他的女人却一点也觉察不出，这可能吗？我是从许多方面知道的：从他避而不谈他在美洲生活的某些片段；从他采取的某些防范措施；从他偶尔流露出来的某些言语；从他注视某些不速之客的方式。我可以完全肯定，他有一些有势力的仇人，他确知他们正在追踪他，所以他总是在防备着他们。因为我深信这点，所以这几年来，只要他回来得比预料得晚，我就非常惊恐。”
“我可以问一句吗？"福尔摩斯说道，“哪些话引起你注意呢？”
“'恐怖谷'，"妇人回答道，“这就是我追问他时，他用的词儿。他说：‘我一直身陷"恐怖谷"中，至今也无从摆脱。''难道我们就永远摆脱不开这"恐怖谷"了吗？'我看到他更失常时曾这样问过他。他回答说，'有时我想，我们永远也摆脱不了啦。'”
“你想必问过他，‘恐怖谷'是什么意思吧？”
“我问过他，可是他一听就脸色阴沉，连连摇头说：‘我们两个人中有一个处于它的魔影笼罩之下，这就够糟糕的了。''但愿上帝保佑，这不会落到你的头上。'这一定是有某一个真正的山谷，他曾在那里住过，而且在那里曾有一些可怕的事情在他身上发生——这一点，我敢肯定——其它我就再没有什么东西可以告诉你们的了。”
“他从没有提过什么人的名字吗？”
“提到过的。三年前，他打猎时出了点意外，在发烧中，曾经说过胡话。我记得他不断说起一个名字，他说的时候，很是愤怒，而且有些恐怖。这人的名字是麦金蒂——身主麦金蒂。后来他病好了，我问他，身主麦金蒂是谁，他主管谁的身体？他哈哈一笑回答说，‘谢天谢地，他可不管我的身体。'我从他那里得到的全部情况也就是这些了。不过，身主麦金蒂和'恐怖谷'之间一定是有关系的。”
“还有一点，"警官麦克唐纳说道，“你是在伦敦一家公寓里和道格拉斯先生相识的，并且在那儿和他订的婚，是吗？关于你们的婚事，有什么恋爱过程，有什么秘密的或是神秘的事吗？”
“恋爱过程是有的，总是要有恋爱过程的。可是没有什么神秘的。”
“他没有情敌吗？”
“没有，那时我根本还没有男朋友。”
“你当然听说过，他的结婚戒指被人拿走了。这件事和你有什么关系吗？假定是他过去生活里的仇人追踪到这里并下了毒手，那么，把他的结婚戒指拿走的原因可能是什么呢？”
一瞬间，我敢说道格拉斯夫人唇边掠过一丝微笑。
“这我实在说不上，"她回答道，“这可实在是一件非常离奇古怪的事。”
“好，我们不再多耽误你了，在这样的时刻来打扰你，我们很是抱歉，"麦克唐纳说道，“当然，还有一些其它问题，以后遇到时，我们再来问你吧。”
她站了起来。我看到，象刚才一样，她又用轻捷而带有疑问的眼光扫视了我们一下：“你们对我的证词有什么看法呢？”这个问题真象是她已说出来一样。然后，她鞠了一躬，裙边轻扫地面，走出了房间。
“她真是一个美丽的女人——一个非常美丽的女人，"在她关上门以后，麦克唐纳沉思地说道，“巴克这个人一定常常到这里来的。他大概是个起受女人青睐的男子。他承认死者是个爱吃醋的人。他可能最清楚道格拉斯的醋意何来。还有结婚戒指的事。你无法放过这些问题。对这个从死者手中夺走结婚戒指的人……福尔摩斯先生，你有什么看法？”
我的朋友坐在那里，两手托着下巴，深深地陷入沉思。这时他站起身来，拉响了传呼铃。
“艾姆斯，"当管家走进来时，福尔摩斯说道，“塞西尔•巴克先生现在在哪儿？”
“我去看看，先生。”
艾姆斯一会儿就回来了，告诉我们巴克先生在花园里。
“艾姆斯，你可记得昨晚你和巴克先生在书房时，他脚上穿的是什么？”
“记得，福尔摩斯先生。他穿的是一双拖鞋。在他要去报警时，我才把长统靴子交给他。”
“现在这双拖鞋在哪里？”
“现在还在大厅的椅子底下。”
“很好，艾姆斯，我们要知道哪些是巴克先生的脚印，哪些是外来的脚印，这当然很重要了。”
“是的，先生。我可以说我注意到了那双拖鞋上已经染有血迹了，连我的鞋子上也是一样。”
“根据当时室内情况来看，那是很自然的。很好，艾姆斯。如果我们要找你，我们会再拉铃的。”
几分钟以后，我们来到书房里。福尔摩斯已经从大厅里拿来那双毡拖鞋。果然象艾姆斯说的那样，两只鞋底上都有黑色的血迹。
“奇怪！"福尔摩斯站在窗前，就着阳光仔细察看，自言自语道，“真是非常奇怪！”
福尔摩斯象猫似地猛跳过去，俯身把一只拖鞋放在窗台的血迹上。完全吻合。他默默地朝着几个同事笑了笑。
麦克唐纳兴奋得失去体统。他用地方口音象棍棒敲在栏杆上一样喋喋不休地讲起来。他大声喊道：“老兄！这是毫无疑义的了！是巴克自己印在窗上的。这比别的靴印要宽得多。我记得你说过是一双八字脚，而答案就在这里。不过，这是玩的什么把戏呢，福尔摩斯先生，这是什么把戏呢？”
“是啊，这是什么把戏呢？"我的朋友沉思地重复着麦克唐纳的话。
怀特•梅森捂着嘴轻声地笑着，又以职业上特有的那种满意的心情搓着他那双肥大的手，满意地大声叫道：“我说过这桩案子了不起。果真一点不假啊。”
Part 1 Chapter 6 A Dawning Light
The three detectives had many matters of detail into which to inquire; so I returned alone to our modest quarters at the village inn. But before doing so I took a stroll in the curious old-world garden which flanked the house. Rows of very ancient yew trees cut into strange designs girded it round. Inside was a beautiful stretch of lawn with an old sundial in the middle, the whole effect so soothing and restful that it was welcome to my somewhat jangled nerves.
In that deeply peaceful atmosphere one could forget, or remember only as some fantastic nightmare, that darkened study with the sprawling, bloodstained figure on the floor. And yet, as I strolled round it and tried to steep my soul in its gentle balm, a strange incident occurred, which brought me back to the tragedy and left a sinister impression in my mind.
I have said that a decoration of yew trees circled the garden. At the end farthest from the house they thickened into a continuous hedge. On the other side of this hedge, concealed from the eyes of anyone approaching from the direction of the house, there was a stone seat. As I approached the spot I was aware of voices, some remark in the deep tones of a man, answered by a little ripple of feminine laughter.
An instant later I had come round the end of the hedge and my eyes lit upon Mrs. Douglas and the man Barker before they were aware of my presence. Her appearance gave me a shock. In the dining-room she had been demure and discreet. Now all pretense of grief had passed away from her. Her eyes shone with the joy of living, and her face still quivered with amusement at some remark of her companion. He sat forward, his hands clasped and his forearms on his knees, with an answering smile upon his bold, handsome face. In an instant--but it was just one instant too late--they resumed their solemn masks as my figure came into view. A hurried word or two passed between them, and then Barker rose and came towards me.
"Excuse me, sir," said he, "but am I addressing Dr. Watson?"
I bowed with a coldness which showed, I dare say, very plainly the impression which had been produced upon my mind.
"We thought that it was probably you, as your friendship with Mr. Sherlock Holmes is so well known. Would you mind coming over and speaking to Mrs. Douglas for one instant?"
I followed him with a dour face. Very clearly I could see in my mind's eye that shattered figure on the floor. Here within a few hours of the tragedy were his wife and his nearest friend laughing together behind a bush in the garden which had been his. I greeted the lady with reserve. I had grieved with her grief in the dining room. Now I met her appealing gaze with an unresponsive eye.
"I fear that you think me callous and hard-hearted," said she.
I shrugged my shoulders. "It is no business of mine," said I.
"Perhaps some day you will do me justice. If you only realized--"
"There is no need why Dr. Watson should realize," said Barker quickly. "As he has himself said, it is no possible business of his."
"Exactly," said I, "and so I will beg leave to resume my walk."
"One moment, Dr. Watson," cried the woman in a pleading voice. "There is one question which you can answer with more authority than anyone else in the world, and it may make a very great difference to me. You know Mr. Holmes and his relations with the police better than anyone else can. Supposing that a matter were brought confidentially to his knowledge, is it absolutely necessary that he should pass it on to the detectives?"
"Yes, that's it," said Barker eagerly. "Is he on his own or is he entirely in with them?"
"I really don't know that I should be justified in discussing such a point."
"I beg--I implore that you will, Dr. Watson! I assure you that you will be helping us--helping me greatly if you will guide us on that point."
There was such a ring of sincerity in the woman's voice that for the instant I forgot all about her levity and was moved only to do her will.
"Mr. Holmes is an independent investigator," I said. "He is his own master, and would act as his own judgment directed. At the same time, he would naturally feel loyalty towards the officials who were working on the same case, and he would not conceal from them anything which would help them in bringing a criminal to justice. Beyond this I can say nothing, and I would refer you to Mr. Holmes himself if you wanted fuller information."
So saying I raised my hat and went upon my way, leaving them still seated behind that concealing hedge. I looked back as I rounded the far end of it, and saw that they were still talking very earnestly together, and, as they were gazing after me, it was clear that it was our interview that was the subject of their debate.
"I wish none of their confidences," said Holmes, when I reported to him what had occurred. He had spent the whole afternoon at the Manor House in consultation with his two colleagues, and returned about five with a ravenous appetite for a high tea which I had ordered for him. "No confidences, Watson; for they are mighty awkward if it comes to an arrest for conspiracy and murder."
"You think it will come to that?"
He was in his most cheerful and debonair humour. "My dear Watson, when I have exterminated that fourth egg I shall be ready to put you in touch with the whole situation. I don't say that we have fathomed it--far from it--but when we have traced the missing dumb-bell--"
"The dumb-bell!"
"Dear me, Watson, is it possible that you have not penetrated the fact that the case hangs upon the missing dumb-bell? Well, well, you need not be downcast; for between ourselves I don't think that either Inspector Mac or the excellent local practitioner has grasped the overwhelming importance of this incident. One dumb-bell, Watson! Consider an athlete with one dumb-bell! Picture to yourself the unilateral development, the imminent danger of a spinal curvature. Shocking, Watson, shocking!"
He sat with his mouth full of toast and his eyes sparkling with mischief, watching my intellectual entanglement. The mere sight of his excellent appetite was an assurance of success; for I had very clear recollections of days and nights without a thought of food, when his baffled mind had chafed before some problem while his thin, eager features became more attenuated with the asceticism of complete mental concentration. Finally he lit his pipe, and sitting in the inglenook of the old village inn he talked slowly and at random about his case, rather as one who thinks aloud than as one who makes a considered statement.
"A lie, Watson--a great, big, thumping, obtrusive, uncompromising lie--that's what meets us on the threshold! There is our starting point. The whole story told by Barker is a lie. But Barker's story is corroborated by Mrs. Douglas. Therefore she is lying also. They are both lying, and in a conspiracy. So now we have the clear problem. Why are they lying, and what is the truth which they are trying so hard to conceal? Let us try, Watson, you and I, if we can get behind the lie and reconstruct the truth.
"How do I know that they are lying? Because it is a clumsy fabrication which simply could not be true. Consider! According to the story given to us, the assassin had less than a minute after the murder had been committed to take that ring, which was under another ring, from the dead man's finger, to replace the other ring--a thing which he would surely never have done--and to put that singular card beside his victim. I say that this was obviously impossible.
"You may argue--but I have too much respect for your judgment, Watson, to think that you will do so--that the ring may have been taken before the man was killed. The fact that the candle had been lit only a short time shows that there had been no lengthy interview. Was Douglas, from what we hear of his fearless character, a man who would be likely to give up his wedding ring at such short notice, or could we conceive of his giving it up at all? No, no, Watson, the assassin was alone with the dead man for some time with the lamp lit. Of that I have no doubt at all.
"But the gunshot was apparently the cause of death. Therefore the shot must have been fired some time earlier than we are told. But there could be no mistake about such a matter as that. We are in the presence, therefore, of a deliberate conspiracy upon the part of the two people who heard the gunshot--of the man Barker and of the woman Douglas. When on the top of this I am able to show that the blood mark on the windowsill was deliberately placed there by Barker, in order to give a false clue to the police, you will admit that the case grows dark against him.
"Now we have to ask ourselves at what hour the murder actually did occur. Up to half-past ten the servants were moving about the house; so it was certainly not before that time. At a quarter to eleven they had all gone to their rooms with the exception of Ames, who was in the pantry. I have been trying some experiments after you left us this afternoon, and I find that no noise which MacDonald can make in the study can penetrate to me in the pantry when the doors are all shut.
"It is otherwise, however, from the housekeeper's room. It is not so far down the corridor, and from it I could vaguely hear a voice when it was very loudly raised. The sound from a shotgun is to some extent muffled when the discharge is at very close range, as it undoubtedly was in this instance. It would not be very loud, and yet in the silence of the night it should have easily penetrated to Mrs. Allen's room. She is, as she has told us, somewhat deaf; but none the less she mentioned in her evidence that she did hear something like a door slamming half an hour before the alarm was given. Half an hour before the alarm was given would be a quarter to eleven. I have no doubt that what she heard was the report of the gun, and that this was the real instant of the murder.
"If this is so, we have now to determine what Barker and Mrs. Douglas, presuming that they are not the actual murderers, could have been doing from quarter to eleven, when the sound of the shot brought them down, until quarter past eleven, when they rang the bell and summoned the servants. What were they doing, and why did they not instantly give the alarm? That is the question which faces us, and when it has been answered we shall surely have gone some way to solve our problem."
"I am convinced myself," said I, "that there is an understanding between those two people. She must be a heartless creature to sit laughing at some jest within a few hours of her husband's murder."
"Exactly. She does not shine as a wife even in her own account of what occurred. I am not a whole-souled admirer of womankind, as you are aware, Watson, but my experience of life has taught me that there are few wives, having any regard for their husbands, who would let any man's spoken word stand between them and that husband's dead body. Should I ever marry, Watson, I should hope to inspire my wife with some feeling which would prevent her from being walked off by a housekeeper when my corpse was lying within a few yards of her. It was badly stage-managed; for even the rawest investigators must be struck by the absence of the usual feminine ululation. If there had been nothing else, this incident alone would have suggested a prearranged conspiracy to my mind."
"You think then, definitely, that Barker and Mrs. Douglas are guilty of the murder?"
"There is an appalling directness about your questions, Watson," said Holmes, shaking his pipe at me. "They come at me like bullets. If you put it that Mrs. Douglas and Barker know the truth about the murder, and are conspiring to conceal it, then I can give you a whole-souled answer. I am sure they do. But your more deadly proposition is not so clear. Let us for a moment consider the difficulties which stand in the way.
"We will suppose that this couple are united by the bonds of a guilty love, and that they have determined to get rid of the man who stands between them. It is a large supposition; for discreet inquiry among servants and others has failed to corroborate it in any way. On the contrary, there is a good deal of evidence that the Douglases were very attached to each other."
"That, I am sure, cannot be true," said I, thinking of the beautiful smiling face in the garden.
"Well at least they gave that impression. However, we will suppose that they are an extraordinarily astute couple, who deceive everyone upon this point, and conspire to murder the husband. He happens to be a man over whose head some danger hangs--"
"We have only their word for that."
Holmes looked thoughtful. "I see, Watson. You are sketching out a theory by which everything they say from the beginning is false. According to your idea, there was never any hidden menace, or secret society, or Valley of Fear, or Boss MacSomebody, or anything else. Well, that is a good sweeping generalization. Let us see what that brings us to. They invent this theory to account for the crime. They then play up to the idea by leaving this bicycle in the park as proof of the existence of some outsider. The stain on the windowsill conveys the same idea. So does the card on the body, which might have been prepared in the house. That all fits into your hypothesis, Watson. But now we come on the nasty, angular, uncompromising bits which won't slip into their places. Why a cut-off shotgun of all weapons--and an American one at that? How could they be so sure that the sound of it would not bring someone on to them? It's a mere chance as it is that Mrs. Allen did not start out to inquire for the slamming door. Why did your guilty couple do all this, Watson?"
"I confess that I can't explain it."
"Then again, if a woman and her lover conspire to murder a husband, are they going to advertise their guilt by ostentatiously removing his wedding ring after his death? Does that strike you as very probable, Watson?"
"No, it does not."
"And once again, if the thought of leaving a bicycle concealed outside had occurred to you, would it really have seemed worth doing when the dullest detective would naturally say this is an obvious blind, as the bicycle is the first thing which the fugitive needed in order to make his escape."
"I can conceive of no explanation."
"And yet there should be no combination of events for which the wit of man cannot conceive an explanation. Simply as a mental exercise, without any assertion that it is true, let me indicate a possible line of thought. It is, I admit, mere imagination; but how often is imagination the mother of truth?
"We will suppose that there was a guilty secret, a really shameful secret in the life of this man Douglas. This leads to his murder by someone who is, we will suppose, an avenger, someone from outside. This avenger, for some reason which I confess I am still at a loss to explain, took the dead man's wedding ring. The vendetta might conceivably date back to the man's first marriage, and the ring be taken for some such reason.
"Before this avenger got away, Barker and the wife had reached the room. The assassin convinced them that any attempt to arrest him would lead to the publication of some hideous scandal. They were converted to this idea, and preferred to let him go. For this purpose they probably lowered the bridge, which can be done quite noiselessly, and then raised it again. He made his escape, and for some reason thought that he could do so more safely on foot than on the bicycle. He therefore left his machine where it would not be discovered until he had got safely away. So far we are within the bounds of possibility, are we not?"
"Well, it is possible, no doubt," said I, with some reserve.
"We have to remember, Watson, that whatever occurred is certainly something very extraordinary. Well, now, to continue our supposititious case, the couple--not necessarily a guilty couple--realize after the murderer is gone that they have placed themselves in a position in which it may be difficult for them to prove that they did not themselves either do the deed or connive at it. They rapidly and rather clumsily met the situation. The mark was put by Barker's bloodstained slipper upon the windowsill to suggest how the fugitive got away. They obviously were the two who must have heard the sound of the gun; so they gave the alarm exactly as they would have done, but a good half hour after the event."
"And how do you propose to prove all this?"
"Well, if there were an outsider, he may be traced and taken. That would be the most effective of all proofs. But if not--well, the resources of science are far from being exhausted. I think that an evening alone in that study would help me much."
"An evening alone!"
"I propose to go up there presently. I have arranged it with the estimable Ames, who is by no means wholehearted about Barker. I shall sit in that room and see if its atmosphere brings me inspiration. I'm a believer in the genius loci. You smile, Friend Watson. Well, we shall see. By the way, you have that big umbrella of yours, have you not?"
"It is here."
"Well, I'll borrow that if I may."
"Certainly--but what a wretched weapon! If there is danger--"
"Nothing serious, my dear Watson, or I should certainly ask for your assistance. But I'll take the umbrella. At present I am only awaiting the return of our colleagues from Tunbridge Wells, where they are at present engaged in trying for a likely owner to the bicycle."
It was nightfall before Inspector MacDonald and White Mason came back from their expedition, and they arrived exultant, reporting a great advance in our investigation.
"Man, I'll admeet that I had my doubts if there was ever an outsider," said MacDonald, "but that's all past now. We've had the bicycle identified, and we have a description of our man; so that's a long step on our journey."
"It sounds to me like the beginning of the end," said Holmes. "I'm sure I congratulate you both with all my heart."
"Well, I started from the fact that Mr. Douglas had seemed disturbed since the day before, when he had been at Tunbridge Wells. It was at Tunbridge Wells then that he had become conscious of some danger. It was clear, therefore, that if a man had come over with a bicycle it was from Tunbridge Wells that he might be expected to have come. We took the bicycle over with us and showed it at the hotels. It was identified at once by the manager of the Eagle Commercial as belonging to a man named Hargrave, who had taken a room there two days before. This bicycle and a small valise were his whole belongings. He had registered his name as coming from London, but had given no address. The valise was London made, and the contents were British; but the man himself was undoubtedly an American."
"Well, well," said Holmes gleefully, "you have indeed done some solid work while I have been sitting spinning theories with my friend! It's a lesson in being practical, Mr. Mac."
"Ay, it's just that, Mr. Holmes," said the inspector with satisfaction.
"But this may all fit in with your theories," I remarked.
"That may or may not be. But let us hear the end, Mr. Mac. Was there nothing to identify this man?"
"So little that it was evident that he had carefully guarded himself against identification. There were no papers or letters, and no marking upon the clothes. A cycle map of the county lay on his bedroom table. He had left the hotel after breakfast yesterday morning on his bicycle, and no more was heard of him until our inquiries."
"That's what puzzles me, Mr. Holmes," said White Mason. "If the fellow did not want the hue and cry raised over him, one would imagine that he would have returned and remained at the hotel as an inoffensive tourist. As it is, he must know that he will be reported to the police by the hotel manager and that his disappearance will be connected with the murder."
"So one would imagine. Still, he has been justified of his wisdom up to date, at any rate, since he has not been taken. But his description--what of that?"
MacDonald referred to his notebook. "Here we have it so far as they could give it. They don't seem to have taken any very particular stock of him; but still the porter, the clerk, and the chambermaid are all agreed that this about covers the points. He was a man about five foot nine in height, fifty or so years of age, his hair slightly grizzled, a grayish moustache, a curved nose, and a face which all of them described as fierce and forbidding."
"Well, bar the expression, that might almost be a description of Douglas himself," said Holmes. "He is just over fifty, with grizzled hair and moustache, and about the same height. Did you get anything else?"
"He was dressed in a heavy gray suit with a reefer jacket, and he wore a short yellow overcoat and a soft cap."
"What about the shotgun?"
"It is less than two feet long. It could very well have fitted into his valise. He could have carried it inside his overcoat without difficulty."
"And how do you consider that all this bears upon the general case?"
"Well, Mr. Holmes," said MacDonald, "when we have got our man--and you may be sure that I had his description on the wires within five minutes of hearing it--we shall be better able to judge. But, even as it stands, we have surely gone a long way. We know that an American calling himself Hargrave came to Tunbridge Wells two days ago with bicycle and valise. In the latter was a sawed-off shotgun; so he came with the deliberate purpose of crime. Yesterday morning he set off for this place on his bicycle, with his gun concealed in his overcoat. No one saw him arrive, so far as we can learn; but he need not pass through the village to reach the park gates, and there are many cyclists upon the road. Presumably he at once concealed his cycle among the laurels where it was found, and possibly lurked there himself, with his eye on the house, waiting for Mr. Douglas to come out. The shotgun is a strange weapon to use inside a house; but he had intended to use it outside, and there it has very obvious advantages, as it would be impossible to miss with it, and the sound of shots is so common in an English sporting neighbourhood that no particular notice would be taken."
"That is all very clear," said Holmes.
"Well, Mr. Douglas did not appear. What was he to do next? He left his bicycle and approached the house in the twilight. He found the bridge down and no one about. He took his chance, intending, no doubt, to make some excuse if he met anyone. He met no one. He slipped into the first room that he saw, and concealed himself behind the curtain. Thence he could see the drawbridge go up, and he knew that his only escape was through the moat. He waited until quarter-past eleven, when Mr. Douglas upon his usual nightly round came into the room. He shot him and escaped, as arranged. He was aware that the bicycle would be described by the hotel people and be a clue against him; so he left it there and made his way by some other means to London or to some safe hiding place which he had already arranged. How is that, Mr. Holmes?"
"Well, Mr. Mac, it is very good and very clear so far as it goes. That is your end of the story. My end is that the crime was committed half an hour earlier than reported; that Mrs. Douglas and Barker are both in a conspiracy to conceal something; that they aided the murderer's escape--or at least that they reached the room before he escaped--and that they fabricated evidence of his escape through the window, whereas in all probability they had themselves let him go by lowering the bridge. That's my reading of the first half."
The two detectives shook their heads.
"Well, Mr. Holmes, if this is true, we only tumble out of one mystery into another," said the London inspector.
"And in some ways a worse one," added White Mason. "The lady has never been in America in all her life. What possible connection could she have with an American assassin which would cause her to shelter him?"
"I freely admit the difficulties," said Holmes. "I propose to make a little investigation of my own to-night, and it is just possible that it may contribute something to the common cause."
"Can we help you, Mr. Holmes?"
"No, no! Darkness and Dr. Watson's umbrella--my wants are simple. And Ames, the faithful Ames, no doubt he will stretch a point for me. All my lines of thought lead me back invariably to the one basic question--why should an athletic man develop his frame upon so unnatural an instrument as a single dumb-bell?"
It was late that night when Holmes returned from his solitary excursion. We slept in a double-bedded room, which was the best that the little country inn could do for us. I was already asleep when I was partly awakened by his entrance.
"Well, Holmes," I murmured, "have you found anything out?"
He stood beside me in silence, his candle in his hand. Then the tall, lean figure inclined towards me. "I say, Watson," he whispered, "would you be afraid to sleep in the same room with a lunatic, a man with softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?"
"Not in the least," I answered in astonishment.
"Ah, that's lucky," he said, and not another word would he utter that night.
这三个侦探还有许多细节要去调查，所以我就独自返回我们在乡村旅店的住所。可是在回去以前，我在这古色古香的花园里散了散步，花园在庄园侧翼，四周环绕着一排排非常古老的紫杉，修剪得奇形怪状。园里是一片连绵的草坪，草其中间有一个古式的日晷仪。整个园中景色雅静宜人，不禁使我的紧张神经为之松弛，顿时心旷神怡起来。在这样清雅幽静的环境里，一个人就能忘掉那间阴森森的书房和地板上那个四肢伸开、血迹斑斑的尸体，或者只把它当做一场噩梦而已。然而，正当我在园中散步，心神沉浸在鸟语花香之中时，忽然遇到了一件怪事，又使我重新想起那件惨案，并在我心中留下不祥的印象。
我刚才说过，花园四周点缀着一排排的紫杉。在距庄园楼房最远的那一头，紫杉很稠密，形成一道连绵的树篱。树篱的后面，有个长条石凳，从楼房这方向走过去是看不见的。我走近那个地方就听到有人说话，先是一个男人的喉音，随后是一个女人娇柔的笑声。我转眼来到了树篱的尽头，对方还没有发现我，我就看到了道格拉斯夫人和巴克这个大汉。她的样子使我大吃一惊。在餐室里，她那么平静而又拘谨，而现在，她脸上一切伪装的悲哀都已烟消云散，双眼闪烁着生活欢乐的光辉，面部被同伴的妙语逗乐的笑纹未消。巴克坐在那里，向前倾着身子，两手交握在一起，双肘支在膝上，英俊的面孔答以微笑。一看到我，他俩立刻恢复了那种严肃的伪装——只不过太晚了点。他俩匆匆说了一两句话，巴克随即起身走到我身旁，说道：“请原谅，先生，你可是华生医生吗！”
我冷冷地向他点了点头，我敢说，我很明显地表露出内心对他们的印象。
“我们想可能是你，因为你和歇洛克•福尔摩斯先生的友情是尽人皆知的。你可愿意过来和道格拉斯夫人说会儿话吗？”
我脸色阴沉地随他走过去，脑海里清楚地浮现出地板上那个脑袋几乎被打碎了的尸体。惨案发生后还不到几小时，他的妻子竟在他的花园的灌木丛后面和他的至爱男友说说笑笑。我很冷淡地向这个女人打了个招呼。在餐室时，我曾因她的不幸而感到沉痛，而现在，我对她那祈求的目光也只能漠然置之了。
“恐怕你要以为我是一个冷酷无情、铁石心肠的人了吧？”道格拉斯夫人说道。
我耸了耸双肩，说道：“这不干我的事。”
“也许有那么一天你会公平地对待我，只要你了解……”
“华生医生没有必要了解什么，"巴克急忙说道，“因为他亲口说过，这不干他的事嘛。”
“不错，"我说道，“那么，我就告辞了，我还要继续散步呢。”
“华生先生，请等一等，"妇人用恳求的声音大声喊道，“有一个问题，你的回答比世上任何人都更有权威，而这个答案对我却有重大关系。你比任何人都更了解福尔摩斯先生，了解他和警署的关系。假使有人把一件事秘密告诉他知道，他是不是绝对必须转告警探们呢？”
“对，问题就在这里，"巴克也很恳切地说道，“他是独立处理问题，还是全都要和他们一起解决？”
“我真不知道该不该谈这样一个问题。”
“我求你，我恳求你告诉我，华生医生，我相信你一定能有助于我们，只要你在这点上给我们指点一下，你对我的帮助就太大了。”
妇人的声音是那么诚恳，竟使我霎时忘掉她的一切轻浮举动，感动得只能满足她的要求。
“福尔摩斯先生是一个独立的侦探，"我说道，“一切事他都自己作主，并根据自己的判断来处理问题。同时，他当然会忠于那些和他一同办案的官方人员，而对那些能帮助官方把罪犯缉拿归案的事情，他也绝不隐瞒他们。除此以外，我不能说别的。如果你要知道得更详细，我希望你找福尔摩斯先生本人。”
说着，我抬了一下帽子就走开了，他俩仍然坐在树篱挡①住的地方。我走到树篱尽头，回头看到他们仍坐在树篱后面，热烈地谈论着；因为他们的眼睛一直在盯着我，这就很明显，他们是在议论刚才和我的对话。
福尔摩斯用了整个下午的时间，和他的两个同行在庄园里商量案情，五点左右方才回来，我叫人给他端上茶点，他狼吞虎咽地吃起来。
当我把这件事告诉福尔摩斯时，他说道：“我不希望他们告诉我什么隐秘。华生，也根本没有什么隐秘。因为如果我们以同谋和谋杀的罪名去逮捕他们的话，他们就会十分狼狈了。”
“你觉得这件事会引向这样的结果么？”
福尔摩斯兴高采烈、意趣盎然，幽默地说道：“我亲爱的华生，等我消灭了这第四个鸡蛋，我就让你听到全部情况。我不敢说已经完全水落石出了——还差得远呢。不过，当我们追查到了那个丢失的哑铃的时候……”①欧洲人的一种礼节，将帽子稍稍拿起一些，并稍点头，随即戴上。——译者注
“那个哑铃！？”
“哎呀，华生，难道你没看出来，这个案子的关键就在于那个丢失的哑铃吗？好了，好了，你也用不着垂头丧气，因为，这只是咱们两个人说说，我想不管是警官麦克，还是那个精明的当地侦探，都没有理解到这件小事的特殊重要性。只有一个哑铃！华生，想想，一个运动员只有一个哑铃的情况吧！想想那种畸形发展——很快就有造成脊椎弯曲的危险。不正常啊，华生，不正常啊！”
他坐在那里，大口吃着面包，两眼闪耀着调皮的神色，注视着我那搜索枯肠的狼狈相。
福尔摩斯食欲这样旺盛，说明他已经是胸有成竹了。因为我对他那些食不甘味的日日夜夜记忆犹新，当他那困惑的头脑被疑难问题弄得焦躁不安的时候，他就会象一个苦行主义者那样全神贯注，而他那瘦削、渴望成功的面容就变得愈发枯瘦如柴了。
最后，福尔摩斯点着了烟斗，坐在这家老式乡村旅馆的炉火旁，不慌不忙地，随意地谈起这个案子来，这与其说是深思熟虑的讲述，不如说是自言自语的回忆。
“谎言，华生，是一个很大的、出奇的、不折不扣的弥天大谎，我们一开头就碰到这个谎言，这就是我们的出发点。巴克所说的话完全是撒谎。不过巴克的话被道格拉斯夫人进一步证实了。所以说，道格拉斯夫人也是在撒谎。他们两个都撒谎，而且是串通一起的。所以现在我们的问题很清楚，就是查清楚他们为什么要撒谎？他们千方百计力图隐瞒的真相又是什么？华生，你我两人试试看，能不能查出这些谎言背后的真情。
“我怎么知道他们是在撒谎呢？因为他们捏造得非常笨拙，根本违背了事实。试想一想吧！照他们所说，凶手杀人后，在不到一分钟的时间里从死者手指上摘去这个戒指，而这个戒指上面还套着另一只戒指，然后再把这另一只戒指套回原处——这是他肯定做不到的，还把这张奇怪的卡片放在受害者身旁。我说这显然是办不到的。你也可能会争辩说，那指环也许是在他被害以前被摘下去的。可是，华生，我非常尊重你的判断能力，因此我想你是不会这么说的。蜡烛只点了很短时间，这个事实说明，死者和凶手会面的时间不会很长。我们听说道格拉斯胆量很大，他是那种稍经吓唬就自动交出结婚戒指的人吗？我们能想象他竟然会交出结婚戒指吗？不，不会的，华生，灯点着后，凶手独自一人和死者呆了一段时间。对于这一点，我是深信不疑的。
“不过致死的原因，很明显是枪杀。所以，开枪的时间比他们所说的要早许多。事情经过就是这样，这是决不会错的。因此，我们面临的是一种蓄意合谋，是由两个听到枪声的人，也就是巴克这个男人和道格拉斯夫人这个女人干的。首先，只我能证明窗台上的血迹是巴克故意印上去的，目的是给警方造成假线索时，你也就会承认，这一案件的发展变得对他不利了。
“现在，我们必须向自己提出一个问题：凶杀究竟是在什么时间发生的呢？直到十点半钟，仆人们还在这屋里来来往往，所以谋杀肯定不是在这之前发生的。十点四十五分，仆人们都回到了下处，只有艾姆斯还留在餐具室。你在下午离开我们以后，我曾作过一些试验，发现只要房门都关上，麦克唐纳在书房不管发出多大声音，我在餐具室里也休想听到。
“然而，女管家的卧室就不同了。这间卧室离走廊不远，当声音非常响时，我在这间卧室是可以模模糊糊地听到的。在从极近距离射击时——本案无疑是如此——火枪的枪声在某种程度上消声了，枪声不会很响，但在寂静的夜晚艾伦太太卧室是能听到的。艾伦太太告诉我们她有些耳聋，尽管如此，她还是在证词中提到过，在警报发出前半小时，她听到砰的一声象关门的声音。警报发出前半小时当然是十点四十五分。我确信她听到的就是枪声，那才是真正的行凶时间。
“假如确实如此，我们现在必须查明一个问题：假定巴克先生和道格拉斯夫人不是凶手，那么，十点四十五分他们听到枪声下楼，到十一点一刻他们拉铃叫来仆人为止，这段时间里他们俩都干了些什么。他们在干些什么呢？为什么他们不马上报警呢？这就是摆在我们面前的问题。这个问题一经查明，就向解决问题前进了几步。”
“我也相信，"我说道，“他们两个是串通一起的。道格拉斯夫人在丈夫死后不到几小时，竟然听见笑话就坐在那里哈哈大笑，那她一定是个毫无心肝的东西了。”
“不错。甚至当她自己讲述案情时，也不象个被害人的妻子。华生，我不是一个崇拜女性的人，这一点你是知道的。可是我的生活经验告诉我，那种听了别人的话就不去看她丈夫尸体的妻子，很少是把丈夫放在心上的。华生，要是我娶妻的话，我一定愿意给我妻子灌输一种感情，当我的尸体躺在离她不远的地方时，她决不会随管家妇走开。他们这种安排非常拙劣，即使是最没有经验的侦探，也会因为没有出现通常会有的妇女尖声悲号的场面而感到吃惊的。即使没有其它原因，单凭这件小事也会使我认为这是预谋。”
“那么，你一定认为巴克和道格拉斯夫人就是杀人犯了？”
“你的这些问题真够直截了当的，"福尔摩斯向我挥舞着烟斗说，“就象对我射来的子弹一样。如果你认为道格拉斯夫人和巴克知道谋杀案的真情，并且合谋策划，隐瞒真相，那我打心眼里同意你，肯定他们是这样干的。不过你那击中要害的前提还不那么清楚。我们先来把妨碍我们前进的疑难问题研究一下吧。
“我们如果设想他们两个人因暧昧关系而沆瀣一气，而且他们决心除掉碍手碍脚的那个人。这只是一种大胆的设想，因为我们经过对仆人们和其他人的周密调查，从哪一方面也不能证明这一点。恰恰相反，有许多证据说明道格拉斯夫妇恩爱无比。”
“我敢说这都不是真的，"我想起花园中那张美丽含笑的面孔，说道。
“好，至少他们使人产生这种印象。然而，我们假定他们是一对诡计多端的人，在这一点上欺骗了所有的人，而且共同图谋杀害道格拉斯。碰巧道格拉斯正面临着某种危险……”
“我们只是听到他们的一面之词啊。”
福尔摩斯沉思着，说道：“我知道，华生，你概括地说明了你的意见，你的意见是，从一开始他们说的每件事都是假的。按照你的看法，根本就没有什么暗藏的危险，没有什么秘密团体，也没有什么'恐怖谷'，没有什么叫做麦金蒂之类的大头目诸如此类的事情。好啊，这也算是一种不错的总归纳。让我们看看它会使我们得到什么结果。他们捏造这种论点来说明犯罪原因。然后，他们配合这种说法，把这辆自行车丢在花园里，作为凶手是个外来人的物证。窗台上的血迹也是出于同一目的。尸体上的卡片也是如此，卡片可能就是在屋里写好的。所有这一切都符合你的假设，华生。可是现在，我们跟着就要碰到这样一些难于处理、颇为棘手、处处对不上碴儿的问题了。为什么他们从所有武其中单单选了一支截短了的火枪，而且又是美国火枪呢？他们怎么能肯定火枪的射击声不会把别人惊动，向他们奔来呢？象艾伦太太那样把枪声只当关门声而不出来查看，这不过是偶然现象罢了。华生，为什么你所谓的一对罪犯会这样蠢呢？”
“我承认我对这些也无法解释。”
“那么，还有，如果一个女人和她的情夫合谋杀死她的丈夫，他们会在他死后象炫耀胜利似地把结婚戒指摘走，从而让自己的罪行尽人皆知吗？华生，难道你认为这也是非常可能的吗？”
“不，这是不可能的。”
“再说，假如丢下一辆藏在外边的自行车是你想出来的主意，难道这样做真有什么价值吗？即使最蠢的侦探也必然会说，这显然是故布疑阵，因为一个亡命徒为了逃跑，首要的东西就是自行车呀。”
“我想不出怎样才能解释了。”
“然而，就人类的智力而言，对于一系列相互关联的事件想不出解释来，这是不可能的事。我来指一条可能的思路吧，就当做是一次智力练习，且不管它对还是不对。我承认，这仅仅是一种想象，不过，想象不始终是真实之母吗？
“我们可以假定，道格拉斯这个人生活中确实有过犯罪的隐私，而且实在是可耻的隐私。这就使他遭到某人暗杀，我们设想凶手是个从外面来的仇人。出于某种我到目前还无法解释的原因，这个仇人取走了死者的结婚戒指。这种宿怨可以认为是他第一次结婚时造成的，而正因如此，才取走他的结婚戒指。
“在这个仇人逃跑以前，巴克和死者的妻子来到屋中。凶手使他们认识到，如果企图逮捕他，那么，一件耸人听闻的丑事就会被公诸于世。于是他们就改变了主意，情愿把他放走了。为了这个目的，他们完全可能无声无息地放下吊桥，然后再拉上去。凶手逃跑时，出于某种原因，认为步行比起自行车要安全得多。所以他把自行车丢到他安全逃走以后才可能被发现的地方。到此为止，我们只能认为这些推测是可能的，对不对？”
“对，毫无疑问，这是可能的，"我稍有保留地说。
“华生，我们一定要想到我们遇到的事无疑是极为特殊的。现在我们继续把我们想象的案情谈下去。这一对不一定是罪犯的人，在凶手逃离后，意识到自己处于一种嫌疑地位，他们既难说明自己没有动手行凶，又难证明不是纵容他人行凶。于是他们急急忙忙、笨手笨脚地应付这种情况。巴克用他沾了血迹的拖鞋在窗台上做了脚印，伪作凶手逃走的痕迹。他们显然是两个肯定听到枪声的人，所以在他们安排好了以后，才拉铃报警。不过这已经是案发后整整半个小时了。”
“你打算怎样证明所有这一切呢？”
“好，如果是一个外来人，那么他就有可能被追捕归案，这种证明当然是最有效不过了。但如果不是这样的话……嗯，科学的手段是无穷无尽的。我想，要是我能单独在书房呆一晚上，那对我会有很大帮助的。”
“独自一个人呆一晚上！”
“我打算现在就去那里。我已经和那个令人尊敬的管家艾姆斯商量过了，他决不是巴克的心腹。我要坐在那间屋里，看看室中的气氛是否能给我带来一些灵感。华生，我的朋友，你笑吧。我是笃信守护神的。好，走着瞧吧。顺便问你一下，你有一把大雨伞吧？带来了没有？”
“在这儿。”
“好，如果可以的话，我要借用一下。”
“当然可以了，不过，这是一件多么蹩脚的武器啊！如果有什么危险……”
“没什么严重问题，我亲爱的华生，不然，我就一定会请你帮忙了。可是我一定要借这把伞用一用。目前，我只是等候我的同事们从滕布里奇韦尔斯市回来，他们现在正在那里查找自行车的主人呢。”
黄昏时分，警官麦克唐纳和怀特•梅森调查回来了。他们兴高采烈，说是调查有了很大进展。
“伙计，我承认我曾经怀疑过是否果真有个外来人，"麦克唐纳说道，“不过现在一切都过去了。我们已经认出了自行车，并且还查访到车主的外貌特征，所以，这一趟可是收获不小啊。”
“你们这么说，好象这案子就要了结了，"福尔摩斯说道，
“我衷心地向你们二位道喜啊。”
“好，我是从这个事实入手的：道格拉斯先生曾经到过滕布里奇韦尔斯市，从那一天气，他就显得神情不安了。那么，正是在滕布里奇韦尔斯市，他意识到了有某种危险。很明显，如果一个人是骑自行车来的话，那就可以料想是从滕布里奇韦尔斯市来的了。我们把自行车随身带上，把它给各旅馆看。车马上被伊格尔商业旅馆的经理认出来了，说车主是一个叫哈格雷夫的人。他两天前在那里开过房间。这辆自行车和一个小手提箱，就是他的全部家当。他登记是从伦敦来的，可是没有写地址。手提箱是伦敦出品，里面的东西也是英国货，不过那人本身却无疑是美国人。”
“很好，很好，"福尔摩斯高兴地说道，“你们确实做了一件扎实的工作，而我却和我的朋友坐在这里编造各种推论。麦克先生，这的确是一次教训呢。是得多做些实际的工作啊。”
“当然，这话不错，福尔摩斯先生，"警官麦克唐纳满意地说道。
“可是这也完全符合你的推论啊，"我提醒说。
“那也说不定。不过，让我们听听结果如何吧，麦克先生。没有什么线索可以查清这个人吗？”
“很明显，他非常小心谨慎提防着，不放别人认出他来。既没有文件也没有书信，衣服上也没有特记。他卧室桌上有一张本郡的自行车路线图。昨天早晨，他吃过早饭，骑上自行车离开旅馆，直到我们去查问为止，也没有再听到他的情况。”
“福尔摩斯先生，这正是使我迷惑不解的，"怀特•梅森说道，“如果这个人不想叫人怀疑他，他就应当想到，他必须返回旅馆，并且象一个与事无关的游客那样呆在那里。象现在这样，他应当知道，旅馆主人会去向警察报告的，必然要把他的失踪和凶杀案联系起来。”
“人家是要这样想的。既然还没有捉到他，至少直到现在证明他还是机智的。不过他的外貌特征到底是什么样的呢？”
麦克唐纳查看了一下笔记本。
“这里我们已经把他们所说的完全记下来了。他们似乎说得不太详细，不过那些茶房、管事的和女侍者们所说的大致相同。那人身高五英尺九英寸，五十岁左右，有点儿头发灰白，淡灰色的胡子，鹰钩鼻子和一张凶残无比、令人生畏的面孔。”
“好，别说了，这几乎是道格拉斯本人的写照了，"福尔摩斯说道，“道格拉斯正好是五十多岁，须发灰白，身高也是这样。你还得到什么情况了？”
“他穿一身厚的灰衣服和一件双排扣夹克，披一件黄色短大衣，戴一顶便帽。”
“关于那支火枪有什么情况？”
“这支火枪不到二英尺长，完全可以放到他的手提箱里。他也可以毫不费力地把它放在大衣里，带在身上。”
“你认为这些情况同这件案子有什么关系呢？”
“噢，福尔摩斯先生，"麦克唐纳说道，“你可以相信，我听到这些情况以后，不到五分钟就发出了电报。当我们捉住这个人时，我们就可以更好地判断了。不过，恰恰在这件案子停滞不前时，我们肯定是前进了一大步。我们知道一个自称哈格雷夫的美国人两天前来到滕布里奇韦尔斯市，随身携带一辆自行车和一个手提箱，箱子里装的是一支截短了的火枪。所以他是蓄意来进行犯罪活动的。昨天早晨他把火枪藏在大衣里，骑着自行车来到这个地方。据我们所知，谁也没看到他来。不过他到庄园大门口用不着经过村子，而且路上骑自行车的人也很多。大概他马上把他的自行车藏到月桂树丛里（人们后来就在这里找到那辆车），也可能他自己就潜伏在这里，注视着庄园的动静，等候道格拉斯先生走出来。在咱们看来，在室内使用火枪这种武器是件怪事。不过，他本来是打算在室外使用的。火枪在室外有一个很明显的好处，因为它不会打不中，而且在英国爱好射击运动的人聚居的地方，枪声是很平常的事，不会引仆人们特别注意的。”
“这一切都很清楚了！"福尔摩斯说道。
“可是，道格拉斯先生没有出来。凶手下一步怎么办呢？他丢下自行车，在黄昏时走近庄园。他发现吊桥是放下来的，附近一个人也没有。他就利用了这个机会，毫无疑问，假如有人碰到他，他可以捏造一些借口。可是他没有碰到一个人。他溜进了他首先看到的屋子，隐藏在窗帘后面。从那个地方，他看到吊桥已经拉起来，他知道，唯一的生路就是蹚过护城河。他一直等到十一点一刻，道格拉斯先生进行睡前的例行检查走进房来。他按事先预定计划向道格拉斯开枪以后就逃跑了。他知道，旅馆的人会说出他的自行车特征来，这是个对他不利的线索，所以他就把自行车丢在此地，另行设法到伦敦，或是到他预先安排好的某一安全隐身地去。福尔摩斯先生，我说得怎么样？”
“很好，麦克先生，按照目前的情况来看，你说得很好，也很清楚。这是你所说的情况发展的结局。我的结论是：犯罪时间比我听说的要早半小时；道格拉斯夫人和巴克先生两个人合谋隐瞒了一些情况；他们帮助杀人犯逃跑了，或者至少是在他们进屋以后凶手才逃走的；他们还伪造凶手从窗口逃跑的迹象，而十有八九是他们自己放下吊桥，让凶手逃走的。这是我对案子前一半情况的判断。”
这两个侦探摇了摇头。
“好，福尔摩斯先生，假如这是真的，那我们愈发弄得莫名其妙了。"这个伦敦警官说道。
“而且是更加难于理解了，"怀特•梅森补充说道，“道格拉斯夫人一生中从未到过美洲。她怎么可能和一个美洲来的凶手有瓜葛，并使她庇护这一罪犯呢？”
“我承认存在这些疑问，"福尔摩斯说道，“我打算今天晚上亲自去调查一下，也可能会发现一些有助于破案的情况。”
“福尔摩斯先生，我们能帮你的忙吗？”
“不，不用！我的需要很简单。只要天色漆黑再加上华生医生的雨伞就行了。还有艾姆斯，这个忠实的艾姆斯，毫无疑问，他会破例给我些方便的。我的一切思路始终萦绕着一个基本问题：为什么一个运动员锻炼身体要这么不合情理地使用单个哑铃？”
半夜时候，福尔摩斯才独自调查回来。我们住的屋子有两张床，这已经是这家乡村小旅馆对我们最大的优待了。那时我已入睡，他进门时才把我惊醒。
“哦，福尔摩斯，"我喃喃地说道，“你可发现什么新情况了吗？”
他手里拿着蜡烛，站在我身边，默默不语，然后他那高大而瘦削的身影向我俯过来。
“我说，华生，"他低声说道，“你现在和一个神经失常的人，一个头脑失去控制的白痴，睡在同一个屋子里，不觉得害怕么？”
“一点也不怕。"我吃惊地回答道。
“啊，运气还不错，"他说道，这一夜他就再也没有说一句话。
Part 1 Chapter 7 The Solution
Next morning, after breakfast, we found Inspector MacDonald and White Mason seated in close consultation in the small parlour of the local police sergeant. On the table in front of them were piled a number of letters and telegrams, which they were carefully sorting and docketing. Three had been placed on one side.
"Still on the track of the elusive bicyclist?" Holmes asked cheerfully. "What is the latest news of the ruffian?"
MacDonald pointed ruefully to his heap of correspondence.
"He is at present reported from Leicester, Nottingham, Southampton, Derby, East Ham, Richmond, and fourteen other places. In three of them--East Ham, Leicester, and Liverpool--there is a clear case against him, and he has actually been arrested. The country seems to be full of the fugitives with yellow coats."
"Dear me!" said Holmes sympathetically. "Now, Mr. Mac and you, Mr. White Mason, I wish to give you a very earnest piece of advice. When I went into this case with you I bargained, as you will no doubt remember, that I should not present you with half-proved theories, but that I should retain and work out my own ideas until I had satisfied myself that they were correct. For this reason I am not at the present moment telling you all that is in my mind. On the other hand, I said that I would play the game fairly by you, and I do not think it is a fair game to allow you for one unnecessary moment to waste your energies upon a profitless task. Therefore I am here to advise you this morning, and my advice to you is summed up in three words--abandon the case."
MacDonald and White Mason stared in amazement at their celebrated colleague.
"You consider it hopeless!" cried the inspector.
"I consider your case to be hopeless. I do not consider that it is hopeless to arrive at the truth."
"But this cyclist. He is not an invention. We have his description, his valise, his bicycle. The fellow must be somewhere. Why should we not get him?"
"Yes, yes, no doubt he is somewhere, and no doubt we shall get him; but I would not have you waste your energies in East Ham or Liverpool. I am sure that we can find some shorter cut to a result."
"You are holding something back. It's hardly fair of you, Mr. Holmes." The inspector was annoyed.
"You know my methods of work, Mr. Mac. But I will hold it back for the shortest time possible. I only wish to verify my details in one way, which can very readily be done, and then I make my bow and return to London, leaving my results entirely at your service. I owe you too much to act otherwise; for in all my experience I cannot recall any more singular and interesting study."
"This is clean beyond me, Mr. Holmes. We saw you when we returned from Tunbridge Wells last night, and you were in general agreement with our results. What has happened since then to give you a completely new idea of the case?"
"Well, since you ask me, I spent, as I told you that I would, some hours last night at the Manor House."
"Well, what happened?"
"Ah, I can only give you a very general answer to that for the moment. By the way, I have been reading a short but clear and interesting account of the old building, purchasable at the modest sum of one penny from the local tobacconist."
Here Holmes drew a small tract, embellished with a rude engraving of the ancient Manor House, from his waistcoat pocket.
"It immensely adds to the zest of an investigation, my dear Mr. Mac, when one is in conscious sympathy with the historical atmosphere of one's surroundings. Don't look so impatient; for I assure you that even so bald an account as this raises some sort of picture of the past in one's mind. Permit me to give you a sample. 'Erected in the fifth year of the reign of James I, and standing upon the site of a much older building, the Manor House of Birlstone presents one of the finest surviving examples of the moated Jacobean residence--'"
"You are making fools of us, Mr. Holmes!"
"Tut, tut, Mr. Mac!--the first sign of temper I have detected in you. Well, I won't read it verbatim, since you feel so strongly upon the subject. But when I tell you that there is some account of the taking of the place by a parliamentary colonel in 1644, of the concealment of Charles for several days in the course of the Civil War, and finally of a visit there by the second George, you will admit that there are various associations of interest connected with this ancient house."
"I don't doubt it, Mr. Holmes; but that is no business of ours."
"Is it not? Is it not? Breadth of view, my dear Mr. Mac, is one of the essentials of our profession. The interplay of ideas and the oblique uses of knowledge are often of extraordinary interest. You will excuse these remarks from one who, though a mere connoisseur of crime, is still rather older and perhaps more experienced than yourself."
"I'm the first to admit that," said the detective heartily. "You get to your point, I admit; but you have such a deuced round-the-corner way of doing it."
"Well, well, I'll drop past history and get down to present-day facts. I called last night, as I have already said, at the Manor House. I did not see either Barker or Mrs. Douglas. I saw no necessity to disturb them; but I was pleased to hear that the lady was not visibly pining and that she had partaken of an excellent dinner. My visit was specially made to the good Mr. Ames, with whom I exchanged some amiabilities, which culminated in his allowing me, without reference to anyone else, to sit alone for a time in the study."
"What! With that?" I ejaculated.
"No, no, everything is now in order. You gave permission for that, Mr. Mac, as I am informed. The room was in its normal state, and in it I passed an instructive quarter of an hour."
"What were you doing?"
"Well, not to make a mystery of so simple a matter, I was looking for the missing dumb-bell. It has always bulked rather large in my estimate of the case. I ended by finding it."
"Where?"
"Ah, there we come to the edge of the unexplored. Let me go a little further, a very little further, and I will promise that you shall share everything that I know."
"Well, we're bound to take you on your own terms," said the inspector; "but when it comes to telling us to abandon the case--why in the name of goodness should we abandon the case?"
"For the simple reason, my dear Mr. Mac, that you have not got the first idea what it is that you are investigating."
"We are investigating the murder of Mr. John Douglas of Birlstone Manor."
"Yes, yes, so you are. But don't trouble to trace the mysterious gentleman upon the bicycle. I assure you that it won't help you."
"Then what do you suggest that we do?"
"I will tell you exactly what to do, if you will do it."
"Well, I'm bound to say I've always found you had reason behind all your queer ways. I'll do what you advise."
"And you, Mr. White Mason?"
The country detective looked helplessly from one to the other. Holmes and his methods were new to him. "Well, if it is good enough for the inspector, it is good enough for me," he said at last.
"Capital!" said Holmes. "Well, then, I should recommend a nice, cheery country walk for both of you. They tell me that the views from Birlstone Ridge over the Weald are very remarkable. No doubt lunch could be got at some suitable hostelry; though my ignorance of the country prevents me from recommending one. In the evening, tired but happy--"
"Man, this is getting past a joke!" cried MacDonald, rising angrily from his chair.
"Well, well, spend the day as you like," said Holmes, patting him cheerfully upon the shoulder. "Do what you like and go where you will, but meet me here before dusk without fail--without fail, Mr. Mac."
"That sounds more like sanity."
"All of it was excellent advice; but I don't insist, so long as you are here when I need you. But now, before we part, I want you to write a note to Mr. Barker."
"Well?"
"I'll dictate it, if you like. Ready?
"Dear Sir:
"It has struck me that it is our duty to drain the moat, in the hope that we may find some--"
"It's impossible," said the inspector. "I've made inquiry."
"Tut, tut! My dear sir, please do what I ask you."
"Well, go on."
"--in the hope that we may find something which may bear upon our investigation. I have made arrangements, and the workmen will be at work early to-morrow morning diverting the stream--"
"Impossible!"
"--diverting the stream; so I thought it best to explain matters beforehand.
"Now sign that, and send it by hand about four o'clock. At that hour we shall meet again in this room. Until then we may each do what we like; for I can assure you that this inquiry has come to a definite pause."
Evening was drawing in when we reassembled. Holmes was very serious in his manner, myself curious, and the detectives obviously critical and annoyed.
"Well, gentlemen," said my friend gravely, "I am asking you now to put everything to the test with me, and you will judge for yourselves whether the observations I have made justify the conclusions to which I have come. It is a chill evening, and I do not know how long our expedition may last; so I beg that you will wear your warmest coats. It is of the first importance that we should be in our places before it grows dark; so with your permission we shall get started at once."
We passed along the outer bounds of the Manor House park until we came to a place where there was a gap in the rails which fenced it. Through this we slipped, and then in the gathering gloom we followed Holmes until we had reached a shrubbery which lies nearly opposite to the main door and the drawbridge. The latter had not been raised. Holmes crouched down behind the screen of laurels, and we all three followed his example.
"Well, what are we to do now?" asked MacDonald with some gruffness.
"Possess our souls in patience and make as little noise as possible," Holmes answered.
"What are we here for at all? I really think that you might treat us with more frankness."
Holmes laughed. "Watson insists that I am the dramatist in real life," said he. "Some touch of the artist wells up within me, and calls insistently for a well-staged performance. Surely our profession, Mr. Mac, would be a drab and sordid one if we did not sometimes set the scene so as to glorify our results. The blunt accusation, the brutal tap upon the shoulder--what can one make of such a denouement? But the quick inference, the subtle trap, the clever forecast of coming events, the triumphant vindication of bold theories--are these not the pride and the justification of our life's work? At the present moment you thrill with the glamour of the situation and the anticipation of the hunt. Where would be that thrill if I had been as definite as a timetable? I only ask a little patience, Mr. Mac, and all will be clear to you."
"Well, I hope the pride and justification and the rest of it will come before we all get our death of cold," said the London detective with comic resignation.
We all had good reason to join in the aspiration; for our vigil was a long and bitter one. Slowly the shadows darkened over the long, sombre face of the old house. A cold, damp reek from the moat chilled us to the bones and set our teeth chattering. There was a single lamp over the gateway and a steady globe of light in the fatal study. Everything else was dark and still.
"How long is this to last?" asked the inspector finally. "And what is it we are watching for?"
"I have no more notion than you how long it is to last," Holmes answered with some asperity. "If criminals would always schedule their movements like railway trains, it would certainly be more convenient for all of us. As to what it is we--Well, THAT'S what we are watching for!"
As he spoke the bright, yellow light in the study was obscured by somebody passing to and fro before it. The laurels among which we lay were immediately opposite the window and not more than a hundred feet from it. Presently it was thrown open with a whining of hinges, and we could dimly see the dark outline of a man's head and shoulders looking out into the gloom. For some minutes he peered forth in furtive, stealthy fashion, as one who wishes to be assured that he is unobserved. Then he leaned forward, and in the intense silence we were aware of the soft lapping of agitated water. He seemed to be stirring up the moat with something which he held in his hand. Then suddenly he hauled something in as a fisherman lands a fish--some large, round object which obscured the light as it was dragged through the open casement.
"Now!" cried Holmes. "Now!"
We were all upon our feet, staggering after him with our stiffened limbs, while he ran swiftly across the bridge and rang violently at the bell. There was the rasping of bolts from the other side, and the amazed Ames stood in the entrance. Holmes brushed him aside without a word and, followed by all of us, rushed into the room which had been occupied by the man whom we had been watching.
The oil lamp on the table represented the glow which we had seen from outside. It was now in the hand of Cecil Barker, who held it towards us as we entered. Its light shone upon his strong, resolute, clean-shaved face and his menacing eyes.
"What the devil is the meaning of all this?" he cried. "What are you after, anyhow?"
Holmes took a swift glance round, and then pounced upon a sodden bundle tied together with cord which lay where it had been thrust under the writing table.
"This is what we are after, Mr. Barker--this bundle, weighted with a dumb-bell, which you have just raised from the bottom of the moat."
Barker stared at Holmes with amazement in his face. "How in thunder came you to know anything about it?" he asked.
"Simply that I put it there."
"You put it there! You!"
"Perhaps I should have said 'replaced it there,'" said Holmes. "You will remember, Inspector MacDonald, that I was somewhat struck by the absence of a dumb-bell. I drew your attention to it; but with the pressure of other events you had hardly the time to give it the consideration which would have enabled you to draw deductions from it. When water is near and a weight is missing it is not a very far-fetched supposition that something has been sunk in the water. The idea was at least worth testing; so with the help of Ames, who admitted me to the room, and the crook of Dr. Watson's umbrella, I was able last night to fish up and inspect this bundle.
"It was of the first importance, however, that we should be able to prove who placed it there. This we accomplished by the very obvious device of announcing that the moat would be dried to-morrow, which had, of course, the effect that whoever had hidden the bundle would most certainly withdraw it the moment that darkness enabled him to do so. We have no less than four witnesses as to who it was who took advantage of the opportunity, and so, Mr. Barker, I think the word lies now with you."
Sherlock Holmes put the sopping bundle upon the table beside the lamp and undid the cord which bound it. From within he extracted a dumb-bell, which he tossed down to its fellow in the corner. Next he drew forth a pair of boots. "American, as you perceive," he remarked, pointing to the toes. Then he laid upon the table a long, deadly, sheathed knife. Finally he unravelled a bundle of clothing, comprising a complete set of underclothes, socks, a gray tweed suit, and a short yellow overcoat.
"The clothes are commonplace," remarked Holmes, "save only the overcoat, which is full of suggestive touches." He held it tenderly towards the light. "Here, as you perceive, is the inner pocket prolonged into the lining in such fashion as to give ample space for the truncated fowling piece. The tailor's tab is on the neck--'Neal, Outfitter, Vermissa, U.S.A.' I have spent an instructive afternoon in the rector's library, and have enlarged my knowledge by adding the fact that Vermissa is a flourishing little town at the head of one of the best known coal and iron valleys in the United States. I have some recollection, Mr. Barker, that you associated the coal districts with Mr. Douglas's first wife, and it would surely not be too far-fetched an inference that the V.V. upon the card by the dead body might stand for Vermissa Valley, or that this very valley which sends forth emissaries of murder may be that Valley of Fear of which we have heard. So much is fairly clear. And now, Mr. Barker, I seem to be standing rather in the way of your explanation."
It was a sight to see Cecil Barker's expressive face during this exposition of the great detective. Anger, amazement, consternation, and indecision swept over it in turn. Finally he took refuge in a somewhat acrid irony.
"You know such a lot, Mr. Holmes, perhaps you had better tell us some more," he sneered.
"I have no doubt that I could tell you a great deal more, Mr. Barker; but it would come with a better grace from you."
"Oh, you think so, do you? Well, all I can say is that if there's any secret here it is not my secret, and I am not the man to give it away."
"Well, if you take that line, Mr. Barker," said the inspector quietly, "we must just keep you in sight until we have the warrant and can hold you."
"You can do what you damn please about that," said Barker defiantly.
The proceedings seemed to have come to a definite end so far as he was concerned; for one had only to look at that granite face to realize that no peine forte et dure would ever force him to plead against his will. The deadlock was broken, however, by a woman's voice. Mrs. Douglas had been standing listening at the half opened door, and now she entered the room.
"You have done enough for now, Cecil," said she. "Whatever comes of it in the future, you have done enough."
"Enough and more than enough," remarked Sherlock Holmes gravely. "I have every sympathy with you, madam, and should strongly urge you to have some confidence in the common sense of our jurisdiction and to take the police voluntarily into your complete confidence. It may be that I am myself at fault for not following up the hint which you conveyed to me through my friend, Dr. Watson; but, at that time I had every reason to believe that you were directly concerned in the crime. Now I am assured that this is not so. At the same time, there is much that is unexplained, and I should strongly recommend that you ask Mr. Douglas to tell us his own story."
Mrs. Douglas gave a cry of astonishment at Holmes's words. The detectives and I must have echoed it, when we were aware of a man who seemed to have emerged from the wall, who advanced now from the gloom of the corner in which he had appeared. Mrs. Douglas turned, and in an instant her arms were round him. Barker had seized his outstretched hand.
"It's best this way, Jack," his wife repeated; "I am sure that it is best."
"Indeed, yes, Mr. Douglas," said Sherlock Holmes, "I am sure that you will find it best."
The man stood blinking at us with the dazed look of one who comes from the dark into the light. It was a remarkable face, bold gray eyes, a strong, short-clipped, grizzled moustache, a square, projecting chin, and a humorous mouth. He took a good look at us all, and then to my amazement he advanced to me and handed me a bundle of paper.
"I've heard of you," said he in a voice which was not quite English and not quite American, but was altogether mellow and pleasing. "You are the historian of this bunch. Well, Dr. Watson, you've never had such a story as that pass through your hands before, and I'll lay my last dollar on that. Tell it your own way; but there are the facts, and you can't miss the public so long as you have those. I've been cooped up two days, and I've spent the daylight hours--as much daylight as I could get in that rat trap--in putting the thing into words. You're welcome to them--you and your public. There's the story of the Valley of Fear."
"That's the past, Mr. Douglas," said Sherlock Holmes quietly. "What we desire now is to hear your story of the present."
"You'll have it, sir," said Douglas. "May I smoke as I talk? Well, thank you, Mr. Holmes. You're a smoker yourself, if I remember right, and you'll guess what it is to be sitting for two days with tobacco in your pocket and afraid that the smell will give you away." He leaned against the mantelpiece and sucked at the cigar which Holmes had handed him. "I've heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I never guessed that I should meet you. But before you are through with that," he nodded at my papers, "you will say I've brought you something fresh."
Inspector MacDonald had been staring at the newcomer with the greatest amazement. "Well, this fairly beats me!" he cried at last. "If you are Mr. John Douglas of Birlstone Manor, then whose death have we been investigating for these two days, and where in the world have you sprung from now? You seemed to me to come out of the floor like a jack-in-a-box."
"Ah, Mr. Mac," said Holmes, shaking a reproving forefinger, "you would not read that excellent local compilation which described the concealment of King Charles. People did not hide in those days without excellent hiding places, and the hiding place that has once been used may be again. I had persuaded myself that we should find Mr. Douglas under this roof."
"And how long have you been playing this trick upon us, Mr. Holmes?" said the inspector angrily. "How long have you allowed us to waste ourselves upon a search that you knew to be an absurd one?"
"Not one instant, my dear Mr. Mac. Only last night did I form my views of the case. As they could not be put to the proof until this evening, I invited you and your colleague to take a holiday for the day. Pray what more could I do? When I found the suit of clothes in the moat, it at once became apparent to me that the body we had found could not have been the body of Mr. John Douglas at all, but must be that of the bicyclist from Tunbridge Wells. No other conclusion was possible. Therefore I had to determine where Mr. John Douglas himself could be, and the balance of probability was that with the connivance of his wife and his friend he was concealed in a house which had such conveniences for a fugitive, and awaiting quieter times when he could make his final escape."
"Well, you figured it out about right," said Douglas approvingly. "I thought I'd dodge your British law; for I was not sure how I stood under it, and also I saw my chance to throw these hounds once for all off my track. Mind you, from first to last I have done nothing to be ashamed of, and nothing that I would not do again; but you'll judge that for yourselves when I tell you my story. Never mind warning me, Inspector: I'm ready to stand pat upon the truth.
"I'm not going to begin at the beginning. That's all there," he indicated my bundle of papers, "and a mighty queer yarn you'll find it. It all comes down to this: That there are some men that have good cause to hate me and would give their last dollar to know that they had got me. So long as I am alive and they are alive, there is no safety in this world for me. They hunted me from Chicago to California, then they chased me out of America; but when I married and settled down in this quiet spot I thought my last years were going to be peaceable.
"I never explained to my wife how things were. Why should I pull her into it? She would never have a quiet moment again; but would always be imagining trouble. I fancy she knew something, for I may have dropped a word here or a word there; but until yesterday, after you gentlemen had seen her, she never knew the rights of the matter. She told you all she knew, and so did Barker here; for on the night when this thing happened there was mighty little time for explanations. She knows everything now, and I would have been a wiser man if I had told her sooner. But it was a hard question, dear," he took her hand for an instant in his own, "and I acted for the best.
"Well, gentlemen, the day before these happenings I was over in Tunbridge Wells, and I got a glimpse of a man in the street. It was only a glimpse; but I have a quick eye for these things, and I never doubted who it was. It was the worst enemy I had among them all--one who has been after me like a hungry wolf after a caribou all these years. I knew there was trouble coming, and I came home and made ready for it. I guessed I'd fight through it all right on my own, my luck was a proverb in the States about '76. I never doubted that it would be with me still.
"I was on my guard all that next day, and never went out into the park. It's as well, or he'd have had the drop on me with that buckshot gun of his before ever I could draw on him. After the bridge was up--my mind was always more restful when that bridge was up in the evenings--I put the thing clear out of my head. I never dreamed of his getting into the house and waiting for me. But when I made my round in my dressing gown, as was my habit, I had no sooner entered the study than I scented danger. I guess when a man has had dangers in his life--and I've had more than most in my time--there is a kind of sixth sense that waves the red flag. I saw the signal clear enough, and yet I couldn't tell you why. Next instant I spotted a boot under the window curtain, and then I saw why plain enough.
"I'd just the one candle that was in my hand; but there was a good light from the hall lamp through the open door. I put down the candle and jumped for a hammer that I'd left on the mantel. At the same moment he sprang at me. I saw the glint of a knife, and I lashed at him with the hammer. I got him somewhere; for the knife tinkled down on the floor. He dodged round the table as quick as an eel, and a moment later he'd got his gun from under his coat. I heard him cock it; but I had got hold of it before he could fire. I had it by the barrel, and we wrestled for it all ends up for a minute or more. It was death to the man that lost his grip.
"He never lost his grip; but he got it butt downward for a moment too long. Maybe it was I that pulled the trigger. Maybe we just jolted it off between us. Anyhow, he got both barrels in the face, and there I was, staring down at all that was left of Ted Baldwin. I'd recognized him in the township, and again when he sprang for me; but his own mother wouldn't recognize him as I saw him then. I'm used to rough work; but I fairly turned sick at the sight of him.
"I was hanging on the side of the table when Barker came hurrying down. I heard my wife coming, and I ran to the door and stopped her. It was no sight for a woman. I promised I'd come to her soon. I said a word or two to Barker--he took it all in at a glance--and we waited for the rest to come along. But there was no sign of them. Then we understood that they could hear nothing, and that all that had happened was known only to ourselves.
"It was at that instant that the idea came to me. I was fairly dazzled by the brilliance of it. The man's sleeve had slipped up and there was the branded mark of the lodge upon his forearm. See here!"
The man whom we had known as Douglas turned up his own coat and cuff to show a brown triangle within a circle exactly like that which we had seen upon the dead man.
"It was the sight of that which started me on it. I seemed to see it all clear at a glance. There were his height and hair and figure, about the same as my own. No one could swear to his face, poor devil! I brought down this suit of clothes, and in a quarter of an hour Barker and I had put my dressing gown on him and he lay as you found him. We tied all his things into a bundle, and I weighted them with the only weight I could find and put them through the window. The card he had meant to lay upon my body was lying beside his own.
"My rings were put on his finger; but when it came to the wedding ring," he held out his muscular hand, "you can see for yourselves that I had struck the limit. I have not moved it since the day I was married, and it would have taken a file to get it off. I don't know, anyhow, that I should have cared to part with it; but if I had wanted to I couldn't. So we just had to leave that detail to take care of itself. On the other hand, I brought a bit of plaster down and put it where I am wearing one myself at this instant. You slipped up there, Mr. Holmes, clever as you are; for if you had chanced to take off that plaster you would have found no cut underneath it.
"Well, that was the situation. If I could lie low for a while and then get away where I could be joined by my 'widow' we should have a chance at last of living in peace for the rest of our lives. These devils would give me no rest so long as I was above ground; but if they saw in the papers that Baldwin had got his man, there would be an end of all my troubles. I hadn't much time to make it all clear to Barker and to my wife; but they understood enough to be able to help me. I knew all about this hiding place, so did Ames; but it never entered his head to connect it with the matter. I retired into it, and it was up to Barker to do the rest.
"I guess you can fill in for yourselves what he did. He opened the window and made the mark on the sill to give an idea of how the murderer escaped. It was a tall order, that; but as the bridge was up there was no other way. Then, when everything was fixed, he rang the bell for all he was worth. What happened afterward you know. And so, gentlemen, you can do what you please; but I've told you the truth and the whole truth, so help me God! What I ask you now is how do I stand by the English law?"
There was a silence which was broken by Sherlock Holmes.
"The English law is in the main a just law. You will get no worse than your deserts from that, Mr. Douglas. But I would ask you how did this man know that you lived here, or how to get into your house, or where to hide to get you?"
"I know nothing of this."
Holmes's face was very white and grave. "The story is not over yet, I fear," said he. "You may find worse dangers than the English law, or even than your enemies from America. I see trouble before you, Mr. Douglas. You'll take my advice and still be on your guard."
And now, my long-suffering readers, I will ask you to come away with me for a time, far from the Sussex Manor House of Birlstone, and far also from the year of grace in which we made our eventful journey which ended with the strange story of the man who had been known as John Douglas. I wish you to journey back some twenty years in time, and westward some thousands of miles in space, that I may lay before you a singular and terrible narrative--so singular and so terrible that you may find it hard to believe that even as I tell it, even so did it occur.
Do not think that I intrude one story before another is finished. As you read on you will find that this is not so. And when I have detailed those distant events and you have solved this mystery of the past, we shall meet once more in those rooms on Baker Street, where this, like so many other wonderful happenings, will find its end.
第二天吃过早饭，我们到当地警察局去，看见警官麦克唐纳和怀特•梅森正在警官的小会客室里密商某事。他们面前的公事桌上堆着许多书信和电报，他们正在仔细地整理和摘录，有三份已经放在一边了。
“还在追踪那个难以捉摸的骑自行车人吗？"福尔摩斯高兴地问道，“关于这个暴徒有什么最新消息？”
麦克唐纳沮丧地指了指他那一大堆信件，说道：“目前从莱斯特、诺丁汉、南安普敦、德比、东哈姆、里士满和其他十四个地方都来了关于他的报告。其中东哈姆、莱斯特和利物浦三处有对他明显不利的情况。因此，他实际上已受到注意了。不过好象全国到处都有穿黄大衣的亡命徒似的。”
“哎呀！"福尔摩斯同情地说道，“现在，麦克先生，还有你，怀特•梅森先生 ，我愿意向你们提出一个非常诚恳的忠告。当我和你们一起研究这件案子时，你们一定还记得，我曾经提出过条件：我不会对你们发表未经充分证实的见解；我要保留并制定出我自己的计划，直到我认为它们是正确的，而使自己满意为止。因此，眼下我还是不想告诉你们我的全部想法。另一方面，我说过我对你们一定要光明磊落，如果我眼看你们白白把精力浪费在毫无益处的工作上，那就是我的不是了。所以今天早晨我要向你们提出忠告，我的忠告就是三个字：'放弃它'。”
麦克唐纳和怀特•梅森惊奇地瞪着大眼望着他们这位出名的同行。
“你认为这件案子已经没法办了吗？"麦克唐纳大声说道。
“我认为你们这样办这件案子是没有希望的，但我并不认为本案不能真相大白。”
“可是骑自行车的人并不是虚构的啊。我们有他的外貌特征，他的手提箱，他的自行车。这个人一定藏在什么地方了，为什么我们不应当缉拿他呢？”
“不错，不错，毫无疑问，他藏在某个地方，而且我们一定可以捉到他。不过我不愿让你们到东哈姆或是利物浦这些地方去浪费精力，我相信我们能找到破案捷径。”
“你是对我们瞒了什么东西了。这可就是你的不是了，福尔摩斯先生，"麦克唐纳生气地说。
“麦克先生，你是知道我的工作方法的。但是我要在尽可能短的时间里保一下密，我只不过希望设法证实一下我想到的一切细节，这很容易做到。然后我就和你们告别，回伦敦，并把我的成果完全留下为你们效劳。不这样做，我就太对不起你们了。因为在我的全部经历中，我还想不起来哪件案子比这件更新奇、更有趣。”
“我简直无法理解，福尔摩斯先生。昨晚我们从滕布里奇韦尔斯市回来看到你的时候，你大体上还同意我们的判断。后来发生了什么事，使你对本案的看法又截然不同了呢？”
“好，既然你们问我，我不妨告诉你们。正如我对你们说过的，我昨夜在庄园里消磨了几个小时。”
“那么，发生了什么事？”
“啊！现在我权且给你们一个非常一般的回答。顺便说一下，我曾经读过一篇介绍资料，它简明而又有趣，是关于这座古老庄园的。这份资料只要花一个便士就可以在本地烟酒店买到，"福尔摩斯从背心口袋里掏出一本小册子，书皮上印有这座古老庄园的粗糙的版画。
他又说道：“我亲爱的麦克先生，当一个人在周围古老环境气氛中深受感染的时候，这本小册子对调查是很能增加情趣的。你们不要不耐烦，因为我可以向你们保证，即使象这样一篇简短的介绍资料，也可以使人在头脑中浮现出这座古厦的昔日情景。请允许我给你们读上一段吧。'伯尔斯通庄园是在詹姆士一世登基后第五年，在一些古建筑物的遗址上建造的，它是残留的詹姆士一世时代有护城河的宅邸最完美的典型……'”
“福尔摩斯先生，你别捉弄我们了。”
“啧！啧！麦克先生！我已经看出你们有些不耐烦了。好，既然你们对这个问题不太感兴趣，我就不再逐字地念了。不过我告诉你们，这里有一些描写，谈到一六四四年反对查理一世的议会党人中的一个上校取得了这块宅基；谈到在英国内战期间，查理一世本人曾在这里藏了几天；最后谈到乔治二世也到过这里；你们会承认这里面有许多问题都与这座古老别墅有种种的关系。”
“我不怀疑这一点，福尔摩斯先生，不过这与我们的事毫无关系啊。”
“没有关系吗？是没有关系吗？我亲爱的麦克先生，干咱们这一行，一个最重要的基本功，就是眼界必须开阔。各种概念的相互作用以及知识的间接使用始终是非常重要的。请原谅，我虽然只是一个犯罪问题专家，但总比你岁数大些，也许经验多一些。”
“我首先承认这一点，"麦克唐纳恳切地说道，“我承认你有你的道理，可是你做起事来未免太转弯抹角了。”
“好，好，我可以把过去的历史放下不谈，回到当前的事实上来。正象我已经说过的那样，昨晚我曾经到庄园去过。我既没有见到巴克先生，也没有见到道格拉斯夫人。我认为没有必要去打扰他们，不过我很高兴地听说，这个女人并没有形容憔悴的样子，而且刚吃过一顿丰盛的晚餐。我专门去拜访了那位善良的艾姆斯先生，和他亲切地交谈了一阵，他终于答应我，让我独自在书房里呆一阵子，不让其他任何人知道。”
“什么！和这个死尸在一起！"我突然喊出来。
“不，不，现在一切正常。麦克先生，我听说，你已许可这么做了。这间屋子已恢复了原状。我在里面呆了一刻钟，很有启发。”
“你做了些什么事呢？”
“噢，我并没有把这样简单的事情神秘化，我是在寻找那只丢失了的哑铃。在我对这件案子的判断中，它始终显得很重要。我终于找到了它。”
“在哪儿找到的？”
“啊，咱们已经到了真相大白的边缘了，让我进一步做下去，再稍微前进一步，就能答应你们把我所知道的一切和盘托出。”
“好，我们只好答应根据你自己的主张去做，"麦克唐纳说道，“不过说到你叫我们放弃这件案子……那究竟是为了什么呢？”
“理由很简单，我亲爱的麦克先生，因为你们首先就没有弄清楚调查对象啊。”
“我们正在调查伯尔斯通庄园约翰•道格拉斯先生的被害案。”
“对，对，你们的话不错。可是不要劳神去搜寻那个骑自行车的神秘先生了。我向你们保证，这不会对你们有什么帮助的。”
“那么，你说我们应当怎样去做呢？”
“如果你们愿意，我就详细地告诉你们应该做些什么。”
“好，我不能不说，我总觉得你的那些古怪的作法是有道理的。我一定照你的意见去办。”
“怀特•梅森先生，你怎么样？”
这个乡镇侦探茫然地看看这个，望望那个。福尔摩斯先生和他的侦探法对他来说是够陌生的了。
“好吧，如果警官麦克唐纳认为对，那么我当然也一样，”怀特•梅森终于说道。
“好极了！"福尔摩斯说道，“好，那么我建议你们两位到乡间去畅快地散散步吧。有人对我说，从伯尔斯通小山边一直到威尔德，景色非常好。尽管我对这乡村不熟悉，不能向你们推荐一家饭馆，但我想你们一定能找到合适的饭馆吃午饭。晚上，虽然疲倦了，可是却高高兴兴……”
“先生，您这个玩笑可真是开得过火了！"麦克唐纳生气地从椅子上站起来，大声叫道。
“好，好，随你们的便好了，怎么消磨这一天都可以，"福尔摩斯说道，高兴地拍拍麦克唐纳的肩膀，“你们愿意做什么就做什么，愿意到哪里就到哪里，不过，务必在黄昏以前到这里来见我，务必来，麦克先生。”
“这听起来还象是个头脑清醒的人说的话。”
“我所说的，都是极好的建议，可是我并不强迫你们接受。只要在我需要你们的时候你们在这里就行了。可是，现在，在我们分手以前，我需要你给巴克先生写一个便条。”
“好！”
“如果你愿意的话，那我就口述了。准备好了吗？
'亲爱的先生，我觉得，我们有责任排净护城河的水，
希望我们能找到一些……'”
“这是不可能的，"麦克唐纳说道，“我已做过调查了。”
“啧，啧，我亲爱的先生！写吧，请照我所说的写好了。”
“好，接着说吧。”
“'……希望我们能找到与我们的调查有关的什么东
西。我已经安排好了。明天清早工人们就来上工，把河水
引走……'”
“不可能！”
“'把河水引走，所以我想最好还是预先说明一下。'
“现在签个名吧，四点钟左右，由专人送去。那时我们再在这间屋里见面。在见面以前，我们可以一切自便。我可以向你们保证，调查肯定可以暂停了。”
将近黄昏时分，我们又重新聚集在一起。福尔摩斯态度非常严肃，我怀着好奇的心理，而两个侦探显然极为不满，异常气恼。
“好吧，先生们，"我的朋友严肃地说道，“我请你们现在和我一同去把一切情况都考察一下，然后你们自己就会作出判断，我所作的观察究竟是否能说明我得出的结论有道理。夜间天气很冷，我也不知道要去多长时间，所以请你们多穿一些衣服。最重要的是，我们要在天黑以前赶到现场。如果你们同意的话，我们现在立即出发。”
庄园花园四周有栏杆围着，我们顺着花园向前走，直到一个地方，那里的栏杆有一个豁口，我们穿过豁口溜进花园。在越来越暗的暮色中，我们随着福尔摩斯走到一片灌木丛附近，几乎就在正门和吊桥的对过。吊桥还没有拉起来。福尔摩斯蹲下来藏在月桂树丛后面，我们三个人照他的样子蹲下来。
“好，现在我们要干什么呢？"麦克唐纳唐突地问道。
“我们要耐心等待，尽量不要出声，"福尔摩斯答道。
“我们到底要在这儿干什么？我认为你应该对我们开诚布公一些！”
福尔摩斯笑了，他说道：“华生一再说我是现实生活中的剧作家，我怀有艺术家的情调，执拗地要作一次成功的演出。麦克唐纳先生，如果我们不能常使我们的演出效果辉煌，那我们这个营生就真的是单调而令人生厌的了。试问，直截了当的告发，一刀见血的严峻处决——这种结案法能演出什么好剧呢？但敏锐的推断，锦囊妙计，对转眼到来的事件作机智的预测，而又胜利地证实自己的推断——难道这些不说明我们的营生值得自豪、干得有理吗？在当前这一时刻，你们会感到猎人预期得手前的激动。假如象一份既定的时间表那样，还有什么可激动呢？麦克先生，我只请你们耐心一点，一切就会清楚了。”
“好哇，我倒希望在我们大家冻死以前，这种自豪、有理等等可以实现。"这个伦敦侦探无可奈何、幽默地说道。
我们几个人都颇有理由赞同这种迫切的愿望，因为我们守候得实在太久、太难忍了。暮色逐渐笼罩了这座狭长而阴森的古堡，从护城河里升起一股阴冷、潮湿的寒气，使我们感到锥心刺骨，牙齿不住打颤。大门口只有一盏灯，那间晦气的书房里有一盏固定的球形灯。四处是一片漆黑，寂静无声。
“这要呆多长时间啊？"麦克唐纳突然问道，“我们在守候什么呢？”
“我不打算象你那样计较等了多长时间，"福尔摩斯非常严厉地答道，“要是罪犯把他们的犯罪活动安排得象列车时刻表那样准时，那对我们大家当然是方便多了。至于我们在守候什……瞧，那就是我们守候的东西啊！”
他说话的时候，书房中明亮的黄色灯光，被一个来回走动的人挡得看不清了。我们隐身的月桂树丛正对着书房的窗户，相距不到一百英尺。不久，窗子吱地一声突然打开了，我们隐约地看到一个人的头和身子探出窗外，向暗处张望。他向前方注视了片刻，鬼鬼祟祟、偷偷摸摸，好象怕让人看到。然后他向前伏下身子，我们在这寂静中听到河水被搅动的轻微响声，这个人手里好象拿着什么东西在搅动护城河水。后来他突然象渔夫捞鱼一样，捞上某些又大又圆的东西，在把它拖进窗子时，灯光又被挡住了。
“马上！"福尔摩斯大声喊道，“快去！”
我们大家都站起来，四肢已经麻木了，摇摇晃晃地跟在福尔摩斯后面。他急速地跑过桥去，用力拉响门铃。门吱拉一声打开了，艾姆斯惊愕地站在门口，福尔摩斯一言不发地把他推到一边，我们大家也都随他一同冲进室内，我们所守候的那个人就在那里。
桌上的油灯重新放出刚才我们在窗外看到的光芒来。现在油灯正拿在塞西尔•巴克手中，我们进来时，他把灯举向我们。灯光映射在他那坚强、果敢、刮得光光的脸上，他的双眼冒出怒火。
“你们这究竟是什么意思呀？"巴克喊道，"你们在找什么？”
福尔摩斯很快地向周围扫视了一下，然后向塞在写字台底下的一个浸湿了的包袱猛扑过去。
“我就是找这个，巴克先生，这个裹着哑铃的包袱是你刚从护城河里捞起来的。”
巴克脸上现出惊奇的神色，注视着福尔摩斯问道：“你究竟是怎么知道这些情况的呢？”
“这很简单，是我把它放在水里的嘛。”
“是你放进水里的？你！”
“也许我应该说'是我重新放进水里的'。"福尔摩斯说道，
“麦克唐纳先生，你记得我提到过缺一只哑铃的事吧，我让你注意它，可是你却忙于别的事，几乎没有去考虑，而它本来是可以使你从中得出正确推论的。这屋子既然靠近河水，而且又失去一件有重量的东西，那么就不难想象，这是用来把什么别的东西加重使之沉到水中去了。这种推测至少是值得验证的。艾姆斯答应我可以留在这屋中，所以说，我在艾姆斯的帮助下，用华生医生雨伞的伞柄，昨晚已经把这个包袱钩出来，而且检查了一番。
“然而，最首要的是，我们应当证实是谁把它放到水中去的。于是，我们便宣布要在明天抽干护城河水，当然，这就使得那个隐匿这个包袱的人一定要取回它来，而这只有在黑夜里才能去做。我们至少有四个人亲眼见到是谁趁机抢先打捞包袱。巴克先生，我想，现在该由你讲讲了。”
歇洛克•福尔摩斯把这个湿包袱放在桌上油灯旁边，打开捆着的绳索。他从里面取出一只哑铃来，放到墙角上那一只的旁边。然后他又抽出一双长统靴子。
“你们看，这是美国式的，"福尔摩斯指着鞋尖说道。他又把一柄带鞘的杀人长刀放在桌上。最后他解开一捆衣服，里面有一整套内衣裤、一双袜子、一身灰粗呢衣服，还有一件黄色短大衣。
“这些衣服，"福尔摩斯指着说，“除了这件大衣以外，都是平常的衣物，这件大衣对人很有启发。”
福尔摩斯把大衣举到灯前，用他那瘦长的手指在大衣上指点着继续说道：“你们看，这件大衣衬里里面，有做成这种式样的一个口袋，好象是为了有宽敞的地方去装那支截短了的猎枪。衣领上有成衣商的签条——美国维尔米萨镇的尼尔服饰用品店。我曾在一个修道院院长的藏书室里花了一下午的时间，增长了我的知识，了解到维尔米萨是一个繁荣的小城镇，在美国一个驰名的盛产煤铁山谷的谷口。巴克先生，我记得你同我谈起道格拉斯先生第一位夫人时，曾经谈到产煤地区的事。那么就不难由此得出推论：死者身旁的卡片上的V．V．两个字，可能是代表维尔米萨山谷（Vermissa Valley），或许就是从这个山谷中，派出了刺客，这山谷可能就是我们听说的恐怖谷。这已经完全清楚了。现在，巴克先生，我好象是有点妨碍你来说明了。”
这个伟大的侦探解说时，塞西尔•巴克脸上的表情可真是怪相百出：忽而气恼无比，忽而惊奇不已，忽而惊恐万状，忽而犹疑不决。最后他用带挖苦味道的反话回避福尔摩斯的话语，冷笑着说：
“福尔摩斯先生，你既然知道得这么详细，最好再多给我们讲一点。”
“我当然能告诉你更多的情况了，巴克先生，不过还是你自己讲体面一些。”
“啊，你是这样想的吗？好，我只能告诉你，如果这里面有什么隐私的话，那也不是我的秘密，叫我说出来是找错人了。”
“好，巴克先生，假如你采取这种态度，"麦克唐纳冷冷地说，“那我们就要先拘留你，等拿到逮捕证再逮捕你了。”
“随你们的便好了，"巴克目中无人地说。
看来从他那里再也弄不出什么来了，因为只要望一望他那刚毅顽强的面容，就会明白，即使对他施以酷刑，也绝不会使他违背自己的心意。然而，正在这时，一个女人的话声，打破了这场僵局。原来，道格拉斯夫人正站在半开的门外听我们谈话，现在她走进屋里来了。
“你对我们已经很尽力了，塞西尔，"道格拉斯夫人说道，
“不管这个事将来结局如何，反正你已经竭尽全力了。”
“不只很尽力，而且过分尽力了，"歇洛克•福尔摩斯庄重地说道，“我对你非常同情，太太，我坚决劝你要信任我们裁判的常识，并且自愿完全把警探当知心人。可能我在这方面有过失，因为你曾通过我的朋友华生医生向我转达过你有隐私要告诉我，我那时没有照你的暗示去做，不过，那时我认为你和这件犯罪行为有直接关系。现在我相信完全不是这么回事。然而，有许多问题还需要说清楚，我劝你还是请道格拉斯先生把他自己的事情给我们讲一讲。”
道格拉斯夫人听福尔摩斯这么一说，惊奇万状，不由得叫出声来。这时我们看到有一个人好象从墙里冒出来一样，正从阴暗的墙角出现并走过来，我和两个侦探也不由得惊叫了一声。
道格拉斯夫人转过身，立刻和他拥抱起来，巴克也抓住他伸过来的那只手。
“这样最好了，杰克，"他的妻子重复说道，“我相信这样最好了。”
“是的，确实这样最好，道格拉斯先生，"歇洛克•福尔摩斯说道，“我断定你会发现这样最好。”
这个人刚从黑暗的地方走向亮处，眨着昏花的眼睛站在那里望着我们。这是一张非同寻常的面孔——一双勇敢刚毅的灰色大眼睛，剪短了的灰白色胡须，凸出的方下巴，嘴角浮现出幽默感来。他把我们大家细细打量了一番，后来，使我惊讶的是，他竟向我走来，并且递给我一个纸卷。
“久闻大名，"他说道，声音不完全象英国人，也不完全象美国人，不过却圆润悦耳，“你是这些人中的历史学家。好，华生医生，恐怕你以前从来没有得到过你手中这样的故事资料，我敢拿全部财产和你打赌。你可以用自己的方式表达它，不过只要你有了这些事实，你就不会使读者大众不感兴趣的。我曾隐藏了两天，用白天的时光，就是在这种困难处境中所能利用的时光，把这些事写成文字的东西。你和你的读者大众可以随意使用这些材料。这是恐怖谷的故事。”
“这是过去的事了，道格拉斯先生，"歇洛克•福尔摩斯心平气和地说道，“而我们希望听你讲讲现在的事情。”
“我会告诉你们的，先生，"道格拉斯说道，“我说话的时候，可以吸烟吗？好，谢谢你，福尔摩斯先生。假如我记得不错的话，你自己也喜欢吸烟。你想想看，要是你坐了两天，明明衣袋里有烟草，却怕吸烟时烟味把你暴露了，那是一种什么滋味啊。”
道格拉斯倚着壁炉台，抽着福尔摩斯递给他的雪茄，说道：“我久闻你的大名，福尔摩斯先生，可从来没想到竟会和你相见。但在你还没有来得及读这些材料以前，"道格拉斯向我手中的纸卷点头示意说，"你将会说，我给你们讲的是新鲜事。”
警探麦克唐纳非常惊奇地注视着这个新来的人。
“啊，这可真把我难住了！"麦克唐纳终于大声说道，“假如你是伯尔斯通庄园的约翰•道格拉斯先生，那么，这两天来我们调查的死者是谁呢？还有，现在你又是从哪儿突然冒出来的呢？我看你象玩偶匣中的玩偶一样是从地板里钻出来的。"①“唉，麦克先生，"福尔摩斯不赞成地摇晃一下食指，“你没有读过那本出色的地方志吗？上面明明写着国王查理一世避难的故事。在那年头要是没有保险的藏身之处是无法藏身的。用过的藏身之地当然还可以再用。所以我深信会在这所别墅里找到道格拉斯先生的。”
“福尔摩斯先生，你怎么捉弄我们这么长时间？"麦克唐纳生气地说道，“你让我们白白浪费了多少时间去搜索那些你本早已知道是荒谬的事情。”
“不是一下子就清楚的，我亲爱的麦克先生。对这案件的全盘见解，我也是昨夜才形成的。因为只有到今天晚上才能证实，所以我劝你和你的同事白天去休息。请问，此外我还能怎①玩偶匣——一种玩具，揭开盖子即有玩具跳起。——译者注样做呢？当我从护城河里发现衣物包袱时，我立即清楚了，我们所看到的那个死尸根本就不是约翰•道格拉斯先生，而是从滕布里奇韦尔斯市来的那个骑自行车的人。不可能再有其他的结论了。所以我只有去确定约翰•道格拉斯先生本人可能在什么地方，而最可能的是，在他的妻子和朋友的帮助下，他隐藏在别墅内对一个逃亡者最适宜的地方，等待能够逃跑的最稳妥的时机。”
“好，你推断得很对，"道格拉斯先生赞许地说道，“我本来想，我已经从你们英国的法律下逃脱了，因为我不相信我怎么能忍受美国法律的裁决，而且我有了一劳永逸地摆脱追踪我的那些猎狗们的机会。不过，自始至终，我没有做过亏心事，而且我做过的事也没有什么不能再做的。但是，我把我的故事讲给你们听，你们自己去裁决好了。警探先生，你不用费心警告我，我决不会在真理面前退缩的。
“我不打算从头开始。一切都在这上面写着，"道格拉斯指着我手中的纸卷说道，“你们可以看到无数怪诞无稽的奇事，这都归结为一点：有些人出于多种原因和我结怨，并且就是倾家荡产也要整死我。只要我活着，他们也活着，世界上就没有我的安全容身之地。他们从芝加哥到加利福尼亚到处追逐我，终于把我赶出了美国。在我结婚并在这样一个宁静的地方安家以后，我想我可以安安稳稳地度过晚年了。
“我并没有向我的妻子讲过这些事。我何必要把她拖进去呢？如果她要知道了，那么，她就不会再有安静的时刻了，而且一定会经常惊恐不安。我想她已经知道一些情况了，因为我有时无意中总要露出一两句来。不过，直到昨天，在你们这些先生们看到她以后，她还不知道事情的真相。她把她所知道的一切情况都告诉了你们，巴克也是这样，因为发生这件案子的那天晚上，时间太仓促，来不及向他们细讲。现在她才知道这些事，我要是早告诉她我就聪明多了。不过这是一个难题啊，亲爱的，"道格拉斯握了握妻子的手，“现在我做得很好吧。
“好，先生们，在这些事发生以前，有一天我到滕布里奇韦尔斯市去，在街上一眼瞥见一个人。虽然只一瞥，可是我对这类事目力很敏锐，并且毫不怀疑他是谁了。这正是我所有仇敌中最凶恶的一个——这些年来他一直象饿狼追驯鹿一样不放过我。我知道麻烦来了。于是我回到家里作了准备。我想我自己完全可以对付。一八七六年，有一个时期，我的运气好，在美国是人所共知的，我毫不怀疑，好运气仍然和我同在。
“第二天一整天我都在戒备着，也没有到花园里去。这样会好一些，不然的话，在我接近他以前，他就会抢先掏出那支截短了的火枪照我射来。晚上吊桥拉起以后，我的心情平静了许多，不再想这件事了。我万没料到他会钻进屋里来守候我。可是当我穿着睡衣照我的习惯进行巡视的时候，还没走进书房，我就发觉有危险了。我想，当一个人性命有危险的时候——在我一生中就有过数不清的危险——有一种第六感官会发出警告。我很清楚地看到了这种信号，可是我说不出为什么。霎时我发现窗帘下露出一双长统靴子，我就完全清楚是怎么回事了。
“这时我手中只有一支蜡烛，但房门开着，大厅的灯光很清楚地照进来，我就放下蜡烛，跳过去把我放在壁炉台上的铁锤抓到手中。这时他扑到我面前，我只见刀光一闪，便用铁锤向他砸过去。我打中了他，因为那把刀子当啷一声掉到地上了。他象一条鳝鱼一样很快绕着桌子跑开了，过了一会，他从衣服里掏出枪来。我听到他把机头打开，但还没来得及开枪，就被我死死抓住了枪管，我们互相争夺了一分钟左右。对他来说松手丢了枪就等于丢了命。
“他没有丢下枪，但他始终让枪托朝下。也许是我碰响了扳机，也许是我们抢夺时震动了扳机，不管怎样，反正两筒枪弹都射在他脸上，我终于看出这是特德•鲍德温。我在滕布里奇韦尔斯市看出是他，在他向我起过来时又一次看出是他，可是照我那时看到他的样子，恐怕连他的母亲也认不出他来了。我过去对大打出手已经习惯了，可是一见他这副尊容还是不免作呕。
“巴克匆忙赶来时，我正倚靠在桌边。我听到我妻子走来了，赶忙跑到门口去阻拦她，因为这种惨象决不能让一个妇女看见。我答应马上到她那里去。我对巴克只讲了一两句，他一眼就看明白了，于是我们就等着其余的人随后来到，可是没有听到来人的动静。于是我们料定他们什么也没有听见，刚才这一切只有我们三人知道。
“这时我不由想起了一个主意，我简直为这主意的高明而感到飘飘然了。因为这个人的袖子卷着，他的臂膀上露出一个会党的标记。请瞧瞧这里。”
道格拉斯卷其他自己的衣袖，让我们看一个烙印——褐色圆圈里面套个三角形，正象我们在死者身上看到的一模一样。
“就是一见这标记才使我灵机一动，我似乎转眼就明白了一切。他的身材、头发、体形都和我自己一模一样。再没有人能认出他的面目了，可怜的恶魔！我把他这身衣服扒下来，我和巴克只用了一刻钟就把我的睡衣给死者穿好，而死者就象你们看到的那样躺在地上。我们把他的所有东西打成一个包袱，用当时仅能找到的重物使它加重，然后把它从窗户扔出去。他本来打算放在我尸体上的卡片，被我放在他自己的尸体旁边。
“我又把我的几个戒指也戴到他的手指上，不过至于结婚戒指，"道格拉斯伸出他那只肌肉发达的手来，说道，“你们自己可以看到我戴得紧极了。从我结婚时期，我就没有动过它，要想取下它除非用锉刀才行。总之我不知道当时是否想到把它锉下来，即使当时想这么做也是办不到的。所以只好让这件小事由它去了。另一方面，我拿来一小块橡皮膏贴在死者脸上，那时我自己在那个位置正贴着一块，福尔摩斯先生，这地方你却疏忽了。象你这样聪明的人，如果你当时碰巧揭开这块橡皮膏，你就会发现下面没有伤痕。
“好，这就是那时的情况。假如我能够躲藏一阵子，然后再和我的'姘妇'妻子一同离开这里，我们自然有机会在余生中过平安生活了。只要我活在世上，这些恶魔们当然不会让我安宁；可是如果他们在报上看到鲍德温暗杀得手的消息，那么，我的一切麻烦也就结束了。我没有时间对巴克和我的妻子说明白，不过他们很是心领神会，完全能帮助我。我很清楚别墅中的藏身之处，艾姆斯也知道，可是他万万想不到这个藏身之地会和这件事发生关系。我藏进那个密室里，其余的事就由巴克去做了。
“我想你们自己已能补充说明巴克所做的事。他打开窗户，把鞋印留在窗台上，造成凶手越窗逃跑的假象。这当然是困难的事，可是吊桥已经拉起，没有别的道路逃走了。等一切都安排就绪以后，他才拚命拉起铃来。以后发生的事，你们都知道了。就这样，先生们，你们要怎样办就怎样办吧。可是我已经把真情告诉你们了。千真万确，
Part 2 Chapter 1 The Man
It was the fourth of February in the year 1875. It had been a severe winter, and the snow lay deep in the gorges of the Gilmerton Mountains. The steam ploughs had, however, kept the railroad open, and the evening train which connects the long line of coal-mining and iron-working settlements was slowly groaning its way up the steep gradients which lead from Stagville on the plain to Vermissa, the central township which lies at the head of Vermissa Valley. From this point the track sweeps downward to Bartons Crossing, Helmdale, and the purely agricultural county of Merton. It was a single track railroad; but at every siding--and they were numerous--long lines of trucks piled with coal and iron ore told of the hidden wealth which had brought a rude population and a bustling life to this most desolate corner of the United States of America.
For desolate it was! Little could the first pioneer who had traversed it have ever imagined that the fairest prairies and the most lush water pastures were valueless compared to this gloomy land of black crag and tangled forest. Above the dark and often scarcely penetrable woods upon their flanks, the high, bare crowns of the mountains, white snow, and jagged rock towered upon each flank, leaving a long, winding, tortuous valley in the centre. Up this the little train was slowly crawling.
The oil lamps had just been lit in the leading passenger car, a long, bare carriage in which some twenty or thirty people were seated. The greater number of these were workmen returning from their day's toil in the lower part of the valley. At least a dozen, by their grimed faces and the safety lanterns which they carried, proclaimed themselves miners. These sat smoking in a group and conversed in low voices, glancing occasionally at two men on the opposite side of the car, whose uniforms and badges showed them to be policemen.
Several women of the labouring class and one or two travellers who might have been small local storekeepers made up the rest of the company, with the exception of one young man in a corner by himself. It is with this man that we are concerned. Take a good look at him; for he is worth it.
He is a fresh-complexioned, middle-sized young man, not far, one would guess, from his thirtieth year. He has large, shrewd, humorous gray eyes which twinkle inquiringly from time to time as he looks round through his spectacles at the people about him. It is easy to see that he is of a sociable and possibly simple disposition, anxious to be friendly to all men. Anyone could pick him at once as gregarious in his habits and communicative in his nature, with a quick wit and a ready smile. And yet the man who studied him more closely might discern a certain firmness of jaw and grim tightness about the lips which would warn him that there were depths beyond, and that this pleasant, brown-haired young Irishman might conceivably leave his mark for good or evil upon any society to which he was introduced.
Having made one or two tentative remarks to the nearest miner, and receiving only short, gruff replies, the traveller resigned himself to uncongenial silence, staring moodily out of the window at the fading landscape.
It was not a cheering prospect. Through the growing gloom there pulsed the red glow of the furnaces on the sides of the hills. Great heaps of slag and dumps of cinders loomed up on each side, with the high shafts of the collieries towering above them. Huddled groups of mean, wooden houses, the windows of which were beginning to outline themselves in light, were scattered here and there along the line, and the frequent halting places were crowded with their swarthy inhabitants.
The iron and coal valleys of the Vermissa district were no resorts for the leisured or the cultured. Everywhere there were stern signs of the crudest battle of life, the rude work to be done, and the rude, strong workers who did it.
The young traveller gazed out into this dismal country with a face of mingled repulsion and interest, which showed that the scene was new to him. At intervals he drew from his pocket a bulky letter to which he referred, and on the margins of which he scribbled some notes. Once from the back of his waist he produced something which one would hardly have expected to find in the possession of so mild-mannered a man. It was a navy revolver of the largest size. As he turned it slantwise to the light, the glint upon the rims of the copper shells within the drum showed that it was fully loaded. He quickly restored it to his secret pocket, but not before it had been observed by a working man who had seated himself upon the adjoining bench.
"Hullo, mate!" said he. "You seem heeled and ready."
The young man smiled with an air of embarrassment.
"Yes," said he, "we need them sometimes in the place I come from."
"And where may that be?"
"I'm last from Chicago."
"A stranger in these parts?"
"Yes."
"You may find you need it here," said the workman.
"Ah! is that so?" The young man seemed interested.
"Have you heard nothing of doings hereabouts?"
"Nothing out of the way."
"Why, I thought the country was full of it. You'll hear quick enough. What made you come here?"
"I heard there was always work for a willing man."
"Are you a member of the union?"
"Sure."
"Then you'll get your job, I guess. Have you any friends?"
"Not yet; but I have the means of making them."
"How's that, then?"
"I am one of the Eminent Order of Freemen. There's no town without a lodge, and where there is a lodge I'll find my friends."
The remark had a singular effect upon his companion. He glanced round suspiciously at the others in the car. The miners were still whispering among themselves. The two police officers were dozing. He came across, seated himself close to the young traveller, and held out his hand.
"Put it there," he said.
A hand-grip passed between the two.
"I see you speak the truth," said the workman. "But it's well to make certain." He raised his right hand to his right eyebrow. The traveller at once raised his left hand to his left eyebrow.
"Dark nights are unpleasant," said the workman.
"Yes, for strangers to travel," the other answered.
"That's good enough. I'm Brother Scanlan, Lodge 341, Vermissa Valley. Glad to see you in these parts."
"Thank you. I'm Brother John McMurdo, Lodge 29, Chicago. Bodymaster J.H. Scott. But I am in luck to meet a brother so early."
"Well, there are plenty of us about. You won't find the order more flourishing anywhere in the States than right here in Vermissa Valley. But we could do with some lads like you. I can't understand a spry man of the union finding no work to do in Chicago."
"I found plenty of work to do," said McMurdo.
"Then why did you leave?"
McMurdo nodded towards the policemen and smiled. "I guess those chaps would be glad to know," he said.
Scanlan groaned sympathetically. "In trouble?" he asked in a whisper.
"Deep."
"A penitentiary job?"
"And the rest."
"Not a killing!"
"It's early days to talk of such things," said McMurdo with the air of a man who had been surprised into saying more than he intended. "I've my own good reasons for leaving Chicago, and let that be enough for you. Who are you that you should take it on yourself to ask such things?" His gray eyes gleamed with sudden and dangerous anger from behind his glasses.
"All right, mate, no offense meant. The boys will think none the worse of you, whatever you may have done. Where are you bound for now?"
"Vermissa."
"That's the third halt down the line. Where are you staying?"
McMurdo took out an envelope and held it close to the murky oil lamp. "Here is the address--Jacob Shafter, Sheridan Street. It's a boarding house that was recommended by a man I knew in Chicago."
"Well, I don't know it; but Vermissa is out of my beat. I live at Hobson's Patch, and that's here where we are drawing up. But, say, there's one bit of advice I'll give you before we part: If you're in trouble in Vermissa, go straight to the Union House and see Boss McGinty. He is the Bodymaster of Vermissa Lodge, and nothing can happen in these parts unless Black Jack McGinty wants it. So long, mate! Maybe we'll meet in lodge one of these evenings. But mind my words: If you are in trouble, go to Boss McGinty."
Scanlan descended, and McMurdo was left once again to his thoughts. Night had now fallen, and the flames of the frequent furnaces were roaring and leaping in the darkness. Against their lurid background dark figures were bending and straining, twisting and turning, with the motion of winch or of windlass, to the rhythm of an eternal clank and roar.
"I guess hell must look something like that," said a voice.
McMurdo turned and saw that one of the policemen had shifted in his seat and was staring out into the fiery waste.
"For that matter," said the other policeman, "I allow that hell must BE something like that. If there are worse devils down yonder than some we could name, it's more than I'd expect. I guess you are new to this part, young man?"
"Well, what if I am?" McMurdo answered in a surly voice.
"Just this, mister, that I should advise you to be careful in choosing your friends. I don't think I'd begin with Mike Scanlan or his gang if I were you."
"What the hell is it to you who are my friends?" roared McMurdo in a voice which brought every head in the carriage round to witness the altercation. "Did I ask you for your advice, or did you think me such a sucker that I couldn't move without it? You speak when you are spoken to, and by the Lord you'd have to wait a long time if it was me!" He thrust out his face and grinned at the patrolmen like a snarling dog.
The two policemen, heavy, good-natured men, were taken aback by the extraordinary vehemence with which their friendly advances had been rejected.
"No offense, stranger," said one. "It was a warning for your own good, seeing that you are, by your own showing, new to the place."
"I'm new to the place; but I'm not new to you and your kind!" cried McMurdo in cold fury. "I guess you're the same in all places, shoving your advice in when nobody asks for it."
"Maybe we'll see more of you before very long," said one of the patrolmen with a grin. "You're a real hand-picked one, if I am a judge."
"I was thinking the same," remarked the other. "I guess we may meet again."
"I'm not afraid of you, and don't you think it!" cried McMurdo. "My name's Jack McMurdo--see? If you want me, you'll find me at Jacob Shafter's on Sheridan Street, Vermissa; so I'm not hiding from you, am I? Day or night I dare to look the like of you in the face--don't make any mistake about that!"
There was a murmur of sympathy and admiration from the miners at the dauntless demeanour of the newcomer, while the two policemen shrugged their shoulders and renewed a conversation between themselves.
A few minutes later the train ran into the ill-lit station, and there was a general clearing; for Vermissa was by far the largest town on the line. McMurdo picked up his leather gripsack and was about to start off into the darkness, when one of the miners accosted him.
"By Gar, mate! you know how to speak to the cops," he said in a voice of awe. "It was grand to hear you. Let me carry your grip and show you the road. I'm passing Shafter's on the way to my own shack."
There was a chorus of friendly "Good-nights" from the other miners as they passed from the platform. Before ever he had set foot in it, McMurdo the turbulent had become a character in Vermissa.
The country had been a place of terror; but the town was in its way even more depressing. Down that long valley there was at least a certain gloomy grandeur in the huge fires and the clouds of drifting smoke, while the strength and industry of man found fitting monuments in the hills which he had spilled by the side of his monstrous excavations. But the town showed a dead level of mean ugliness and squalor. The broad street was churned up by the traffic into a horrible rutted paste of muddy snow. The sidewalks were narrow and uneven. The numerous gas-lamps served only to show more clearly a long line of wooden houses, each with its veranda facing the street, unkempt and dirty.
As they approached the centre of the town the scene was brightened by a row of well-lit stores, and even more by a cluster of saloons and gaming houses, in which the miners spent their hard-earned but generous wages.
"That's the Union House," said the guide, pointing to one saloon which rose almost to the dignity of being a hotel. "Jack McGinty is the boss there."
"What sort of a man is he?" McMurdo asked.
"What! have you never heard of the boss?"
"How could I have heard of him when you know that I am a stranger in these parts?"
"Well, I thought his name was known clear across the country. It's been in the papers often enough."
"What for?"
"Well," the miner lowered his voice--"over the affairs."
"What affairs?"
"Good Lord, mister! you are queer, if I must say it without offense. There's only one set of affairs that you'll hear of in these parts, and that's the affairs of the Scowrers."
"Why, I seem to have read of the Scowrers in Chicago. A gang of murderers, are they not?"
"Hush, on your life!" cried the miner, standing still in alarm, and gazing in amazement at his companion. "Man, you won't live long in these parts if you speak in the open street like that. Many a man has had the life beaten out of him for less."
"Well, I know nothing about them. It's only what I have read."
"And I'm not saying that you have not read the truth." The man looked nervously round him as he spoke, peering into the shadows as if he feared to see some lurking danger. "If killing is murder, then God knows there is murder and to spare. But don't you dare to breathe the name of Jack McGinty in connection with it, stranger; for every whisper goes back to him, and he is not one that is likely to let it pass. Now, that's the house you're after, that one standing back from the street. You'll find old Jacob Shafter that runs it as honest a man as lives in this township."
"I thank you," said McMurdo, and shaking hands with his new acquaintance he plodded, gripsack in hand, up the path which led to the dwelling house, at the door of which he gave a resounding knock.
It was opened at once by someone very different from what he had expected. It was a woman, young and singularly beautiful. She was of the German type, blonde and fair-haired, with the piquant contrast of a pair of beautiful dark eyes with which she surveyed the stranger with surprise and a pleasing embarrassment which brought a wave of colour over her pale face. Framed in the bright light of the open doorway, it seemed to McMurdo that he had never seen a more beautiful picture; the more attractive for its contrast with the sordid and gloomy surroundings. A lovely violet growing upon one of those black slag-heaps of the mines would not have seemed more surprising. So entranced was he that he stood staring without a word, and it was she who broke the silence.
"I thought it was father," said she with a pleasing little touch of a German accent. "Did you come to see him? He is down town. I expect him back every minute."
McMurdo continued to gaze at her in open admiration until her eyes dropped in confusion before this masterful visitor.
"No, miss," he said at last, "I'm in no hurry to see him. But your house was recommended to me for board. I thought it might suit me--and now I know it will."
"You are quick to make up your mind," said she with a smile.
"Anyone but a blind man could do as much," the other answered.
She laughed at the compliment. "Come right in, sir," she said. "I'm Miss Ettie Shafter, Mr. Shafter's daughter. My mother's dead, and I run the house. You can sit down by the stove in the front room until father comes along--Ah, here he is! So you can fix things with him right away."
A heavy, elderly man came plodding up the path. In a few words McMurdo explained his business. A man of the name of Murphy had given him the address in Chicago. He in turn had had it from someone else. Old Shafter was quite ready. The stranger made no bones about terms, agreed at once to every condition, and was apparently fairly flush of money. For seven dollars a week paid in advance he was to have board and lodging.
So it was that McMurdo, the self-confessed fugitive from justice, took up his abode under the roof of the Shafters, the first step which was to lead to so long and dark a train of events, ending in a far distant land.
一八七五年二月四日，天气严寒，吉尔默敦山峡谷中积满深雪。然而，由于开动了蒸汽扫雷机，铁路依然畅通无阻，联结煤矿和铁工区这条漫长线路的夜车，迟缓地从斯塔格维尔平原，响声隆隆地爬上陡峭的斜坡，向维尔米萨谷口的中心区维尔米萨镇驶去。火车行驶到这里，向下驶去，经巴顿支路、赫尔姆代尔，到农产丰富的梅尔顿县。这是单轨铁路，不过在每条侧线上的无数列满载着煤和铁矿石的货车，说明了矿藏的丰富。这丰富的矿藏使得美国这个最荒凉的角落迁来了许多粗野的人，生活开始沸腾起来。
以前这里是荒芜不毛之地。第一批到这里进行详细考察的开拓者怎么也不会想到这片美景如画的大草原和水草繁茂的牧场，竟是遍布黑岩石和茂密森林的荒凉土地。山坡上是黑压压几乎不见天日的密林，再往上是高耸的光秃山顶，白雪和巉岩屹立两侧，经过蜿蜒曲折的山谷，这列火车正在向上缓缓地蠕动着。
前面的客车刚刚点起了油灯，一节简陋的长车厢里坐着二三十个人，其中大多数是工人，经过在深谷底部的整天的劳累，坐火车回去休息。至少有十几个人，从他们积满尘垢的面孔以及他们携带的安全灯来看，显然是矿工。他们坐在一起吸烟，低声交谈，偶而平视车厢对面坐的两个人一眼，那两个人身穿制服，佩戴徽章，说明他们是警察。
客车厢里其余的旅客，有几个劳动阶层的妇女，有一两个旅客可能是当地的小业主，除此以外，还有一个年轻人独自坐在车厢一角。因为和我们有关的正是这一位 ，所以值得详细交代一下。
这个年轻人品宇轩昂，中等身材，不过三十岁左右。一双富于幽默感的灰色大眼睛，不时好奇地迅速转动，透过眼镜打量着周围的人们。不难看出他是一个善于交际、性情坦率的人，热衷于和一切人交朋友。任何人都可以立即发现他那善于交际的脾气和爱说话的性格，他颇为机智而经常面带微笑。但如有人细细地进行观察，就可以从他双唇和嘴角看出刚毅果断、坚韧不拔的神色来，知道这是一个思想深沉的人，这个快活的褐色头发的年轻的爱尔兰人一定会在他进入的社会中好歹使自己出名。
这个年轻人和坐在离他最近的一个矿工搭了一两句话，但对方话语很少而又粗鲁，便因话不投机而默不作声了，抑郁不快地凝视着窗外逐渐暗淡下去的景色。
这景色不能令人高兴。天色逐渐变暗，山坡上闪着炉火的红光，矿渣和炉渣堆积如山，隐隐呈现在山坡两侧，煤矿的竖井耸立其上。沿线到处是零零落落的低矮木屋 ，窗口灯光闪烁，隐约现出起轮廓来。不时显现的停车站挤满了皮肤黝黑的乘客。
维尔米萨区盛产煤铁的山谷，不是有闲阶层和有文化的人们经常来往的地方。这儿到处是为生存而进行最原始搏斗的严竣痕迹，进行着原始的粗笨劳动，从事劳动的是粗野的健壮的工人。
年轻的旅客眺望着这小城镇的凄凉景象，脸上现出不快和好奇的样子，说明这地方对他还很陌生。他不时从口袋中掏出一封信来，看看它，在信的空白处潦草地写下一些字。有一次他从身后掏出一样东西，很难使人相信这是象他那样温文尔雅的人所有的。那是一支最大号的海军用左轮手枪。在他把手枪侧向灯光时，弹轮上的铜弹闪闪发光，表明枪内装满了子弹。他很快把枪放回口袋里，但已被一个邻座的工人看到了。
“喂，老兄，"这个工人说道，“你好象有所戒备啊。”
年轻人不自然地笑了笑。
“是啊，"他说道，“在我来的那地方，有时我们需要用它。”
“那是什么地方呢？”
“我刚从芝加哥来。”
“你对此地还不熟悉吧？”
“是的。”
“你会发现在这里也用得着它，"这个工人说道。
“啊！果真么？"年轻人似乎很关心地问道。
“你没听说这附近出过事么？”
“没有听到有什么不正常的事。”
“嗨！这里出的事多极了，用不多时你就会听个够。你为啥事到这里来的？”
“我听说这里愿意干活儿的人总是找得到活儿干。”
“你是工会里的人么？”
“当然了。”
“我想，那你也会有活儿干的。你有朋友吗？”
“还没有，不过我是有办法交朋友的。”
“怎么个交法呢？”
“我是自由人会的会员，没有一个城镇没有它的分会，只要有分会我就有朋友可交。”
这一席话对对方产生了异常作用，那工人疑虑地向车上其他人扫视了一眼，看到矿工们仍在低声交谈，两个警察正在打盹。他走过来，紧挨年轻旅客坐下，伸出手来，说道：
“把手伸过来。”
两个人握了握手对暗号。
“我看出你说的是真话。不过还是要弄清楚些好。”
他举起右手，放到他的右眉边。年轻人立刻举起左手，放到左眉边。
“黑夜是不愉快的，"这个工人说道。
“对旅行的异乡人，黑夜是不愉快的，"另一个人回答说。
“太好了。我是维尔米萨山谷三四一分会的斯坎伦兄弟。很高兴在此地见到你。”
“谢谢你。我是芝加哥二十九分会的约翰•麦克默多兄弟。身主J．H．斯科特。不过我很幸运，这么快就遇到了一个弟兄。”
“好，附近我们有很多人。你会看到，在维尔米萨山谷，本会势力雄厚，这是美国任何地方也比不上的。可是我们要有许多象你这样的小伙子才成。我真不明白象你这样生气勃勃的工会会员，为什么在芝加哥找不到工作。”
“我找到过很多工作呢，"麦克默多说道。
“那你为什么离开呢？”
麦克默多向警察那面点头示意并且笑了笑，说道：“我想这些家伙知道了是会很高兴的。”
斯坎伦同情地哼了一声。"有什么麻烦事吗？"他低声问道。
“很麻烦。”
“是犯罪行为吗？”
“还有其他方面的。”
“不是杀人吧？”
“谈这样的事还太早，"麦克默多说道，现出因说过了头而吃惊的样子，“我离开芝加哥有我自己的充分理由，你就不要多管了。你是什么人？怎么可以对这种事问个不休呢？”
麦克默多灰色的双眸透过眼镜突然露出气愤的凶光。
“好了，老兄。请不要见怪。人们不会以为你做过什么坏事的。你现在要到哪儿去？”
“到维尔米萨。”
“第三站就到了。你准备住在哪里？”
麦克默多掏出一个信封来，把它凑近昏暗的油灯旁。
“这就是地址——谢里登街，雅各布•谢夫特。这是我在芝加哥认识的一个人介绍给我的一家公寓。”
“噢，我不知道这个公寓，我对维尔米萨不太熟悉。我住在霍布森领地，现在就要到了。不过，在我们分手以前，我要奉告你一句话。如果你在维尔米萨遇到困难，你就直接到工会去找首领麦金蒂。他是维尔米萨分会的身主，在此地，没有布莱克•杰克•麦金蒂的许可，是不会出什么事的。再见，老弟，或许我们有一天晚上能够在分会里见面。不过请记住我的话：如果你一旦遇到困难，就去找首领麦金蒂。”
斯坎伦下车了，麦克默多又重新陷入沉思。现在天已完全黑了，黑暗中高炉喷出的火焰在嘶列着、跳跃着发出闪光。在红光映照中，一些黑色的身影在随着起重机或卷扬机的动作，和着铿锵声与轰鸣声的旋律，弯腰、用力、扭动、转身。
“我想地狱一定是这个样子，"有人说道。
麦克默多转回身来，看到一个警察动了动身子，望着外面炉火映红的荒原。
“就这一点来说，"另一个警察说道，“我认为地狱一定象这个样子，我不认为，那里的魔鬼会比我们知道的更坏。年轻人，我想你刚到这地方吧？”
“嗯，我刚到这里又怎么样？"麦克默多粗暴无礼地答道。
“是这样，先生，我劝你选择朋友要小心谨慎。我要是你，我不会一开头就和迈克•斯坎伦或他那一帮人交朋友。”
“我和谁交朋友，这干你屁事！"麦克默多厉声说道。他的声音惊动了车厢内所有的人，大家都在看他们争吵，“我请你劝告我了吗？还是你认为我是个笨蛋，不听你的劝告就寸步难行？有人跟你说话你再张口，我要是你呀，嗨！还是靠边呆会儿吧！”
他把脸冲向警察，咬牙切齿，象一只狺狺狂吠的狗。
这两个老练、温厚的警察对这种友好的表示竟遭到这么强烈的拒绝，不免都大吃一惊。
“请不要见怪！先生，"一个警察说道，“看样子，你是初到此地的。我们对你提出警告，也是为了你好嘛。”
“我虽是初到此地，可是我对你们这一类货色却并不生疏，"麦克默多无情地怒喊道，“我看你们这些人是天下乌鸦一般黑，收起你们的规劝吧，没有人需要它。”
“我们不久就要再会的，"一个警察冷笑着说道，“我要是法官的话，我敢说你可真是百里挑一的好东西了。”
“我也这样想，"另一个警察说，“我想我们后会有期的。”
“我不怕你们，你们也休想吓唬我。"麦克默多大声喊道，
“我的名字叫杰克•麦克默多，知道吗？你们要找我的话，可以到维尔米萨谢里登街的雅各布•谢夫特公寓去找，我决不会躲避你们，不管白天晚上，我都敢见你们这一类家伙。你们别把这弄错了。”
新来的人这种大胆的行动引起了矿工们的同情和称赞，他们低声议论，两个警察无可奈何地耸耸肩，又互相窃窃交谈。
几分钟以后，火车开进一个灯光暗淡的车站，这里有一片旷地，因为维尔米萨是这一条铁路线上最大的城镇。麦克默多提起皮革旅行包，正准备向暗处走去，一个矿工走上前和他攀谈起来。
“哎呀，老兄，你懂得怎样对这些警察讲话，"他敬佩地说，
“听你讲话，真叫人痛快。我来给你拿旅行包，给你领路。我回家路上正好经过谢夫特公寓。”
他们从月台走过来时，其他的矿工都友好地齐声向麦克默多道晚安。所以，尽管还没立足此地，麦克默多这个捣乱分子已名满维尔米萨了。
乡村是恐怖的地方，可是从某种程度上来说，城镇更加令人沉闷。但在这狭长的山谷，至少有一种阴沉的壮观之感，烈焰映天，烟云变幻，而有力气和勤劳的人在这些小山上创造了当之无愧的不朽业绩，这些小山都是那些人在巨大的坑道旁堆积而成的。但城镇却显得丑陋和肮脏。来往车辆把宽阔的大街轧出许多泥泞不堪的车辙。人行道狭窄而崎岖难行，许多煤气灯仅仅照亮一排木板房，每座房屋都有临街的阳台，既杂乱又肮脏。
麦克默多和那矿工走近了市中心，一排店铺灯光明亮，那些酒馆、赌场更是灯光辉煌，矿工们则在那里大手大脚地挥霍他们用血汗挣来的钱。
“这就是工会，"这个向导指着一家高大而象旅社的酒馆说道，“杰克•麦金蒂是这里的首领。”
“他是一个怎样的人？"麦克默多问道。
“怎么！你过去没听说过首领的大名吗？”
“你知道我对此地很陌生，我怎么会听说过他呢？”
“噢，我以为工会里的人都知道他的名字呢。他的名字经常登报呢。”
“为什么呢？”
“啊，"这个矿工放低了声音，“出了些事呗。”
“什么事？”
“天哪，先生，我说句不怕你见怪的话，你可真是个怪人，在此地你只会听到一类事，这就是死酷党人的事。”
“为什么，我好象在芝加哥听说过死酷党人。是一伙杀人凶手，是不是？”
“嘘，别说了！千万别说了！"这个矿工惶惑不安地站在那里，惊讶地注视着他的同伴，大声说道，“伙计，要是你在大街上象这样乱讲话，那你在此地就活不了多久了。许多人因为比这还小的事都已经送命了。”
“好，对他们的事，我什么也不知道，这仅仅是我听说的。”
“不过，我不是说你听到的不是真事。"这个人一面说，一面忐忑不安地向四周打量了一番，紧紧盯着暗处，好象怕看到什么暗藏的危险一样，“如果是凶杀的话，那么天知道，凶杀案多着呢。不过你千万不要把这和杰克•麦金蒂的名字联在一起。因为每个小声议论都会传到他耳边，而麦金蒂又是不肯轻易放过的。好，那就是你要找的房子，就是街后的那一座。你会发现房主老雅各布•谢夫特是本镇的一个诚实人。”
“谢谢你，"麦克默多和他的新相识握手告别时说道。他提着旅行包，步履沉重地走在通往那所住宅的小路上，走到门前，用力敲门。
门马上打开了，可是开门的人却出乎他意料之外。她是一个年轻、美貌出众的德国型女子，玉肤冰肌，发色金黄，一双美丽乌黑的大眼睛，惊奇地打量着来客，白嫩的脸儿娇羞得泛出红晕。在门口明亮的街灯下，麦克默多好象觉得从来没有见过这样美丽的丰姿；她与周围污秽阴暗的环境形成鲜明的对照，更加动人。即使在这些黑煤渣堆上生出一支紫罗兰，也不会象这女子那样令人惊奇了。他神魂颠倒、瞠目结舌地站在那里，还是这女子打破了寂静。
“我还以为是父亲呢，"她娇声说道，带点德国口音，“你是来找他的吗？他到镇上去了。我正盼他回来呢。”
麦克默多仍在满心爱慕地痴望着她，在这矜持的来访者面前，那女子心慌意乱地低下了头。
“不是，小姐，"麦克默多终于开口说道，“我不急着找他。可是有人介绍我到你家来住。我想这对我很合适，现在我更知道这是很合适的了。”
“你也决定得太快了，"女子微笑着说。
“除非是瞎子，谁都会这样决定的。"麦克默多答道。
姑娘听到赞美的话语，莞尔一笑。
“先生，请进来，"她说道，“我叫伊蒂•谢夫特小姐，是谢夫特先生的女儿。我母亲早已去世，我管理家务。你可以在前厅炉旁坐下，等我父亲回来。啊，他来了，有什么事你和他商量吧。”
一个老人从小路上慢慢走过来。麦克默多三言两语向他说明了来意。在芝加哥，一个叫墨菲的人介绍他到这里来。这个地址是另一个人告诉墨菲的。老谢夫特完全答应下来。麦克默多对房费毫不犹豫，立刻同意一切条件，显然他很有钱，预付了每周七美元的膳宿费。
于是这个公然自称逃犯的麦克默多，开始住在谢夫特家里。这最初的一步引出漫长而暗淡的无数风波，其收场则是在天涯的异国。
Part 2 Chapter 2 The Bodymaster
McMurdo was a man who made his mark quickly. Wherever he was the folk around soon knew it. Within a week he had become infinitely the most important person at Shafter's. There were ten or a dozen boarders there; but they were honest foremen or commonplace clerks from the stores, of a very different calibre from the young Irishman. Of an evening when they gathered together his joke was always the readiest, his conversation the brightest, and his song the best. He was a born boon companion, with a magnetism which drew good humour from all around him.
And yet he showed again and again, as he had shown in the railway carriage, a capacity for sudden, fierce anger, which compelled the respect and even the fear of those who met him. For the law, too, and all who were connected with it, he exhibited a bitter contempt which delighted some and alarmed others of his fellow boarders.
From the first he made it evident, by his open admiration, that the daughter of the house had won his heart from the instant that he had set eyes upon her beauty and her grace. He was no backward suitor. On the second day he told her that he loved her, and from then onward he repeated the same story with an absolute disregard of what she might say to discourage him.
"Someone else?" he would cry. "Well, the worse luck for someone else! Let him look out for himself! Am I to lose my life's chance and all my heart's desire for someone else? You can keep on saying no, Ettie: the day will come when you will say yes, and I'm young enough to wait."
He was a dangerous suitor, with his glib Irish tongue, and his pretty, coaxing ways. There was about him also that glamour of experience and of mystery which attracts a woman's interest, and finally her love. He could talk of the sweet valleys of County Monaghan from which he came, of the lovely, distant island, the low hills and green meadows of which seemed the more beautiful when imagination viewed them from this place of grime and snow.
Then he was versed in the life of the cities of the North, of Detroit, and the lumber camps of Michigan, and finally of Chicago, where he had worked in a planing mill. And afterwards came the hint of romance, the feeling that strange things had happened to him in that great city, so strange and so intimate that they might not be spoken of. He spoke wistfully of a sudden leaving, a breaking of old ties, a flight into a strange world, ending in this dreary valley, and Ettie listened, her dark eyes gleaming with pity and with sympathy--those two qualities which may turn so rapidly and so naturally to love.
McMurdo had obtained a temporary job as bookkeeper for he was a well-educated man. This kept him out most of the day, and he had not found occasion yet to report himself to the head of the lodge of the Eminent Order of Freemen. He was reminded of his omission, however, by a visit one evening from Mike Scanlan, the fellow member whom he had met in the train. Scanlan, the small, sharp-faced, nervous, black-eyed man, seemed glad to see him once more. After a glass or two of whisky he broached the object of his visit.
"Say, McMurdo," said he, "I remembered your address, so l made bold to call. I'm surprised that you've not reported to the Bodymaster. Why haven't you seen Boss McGinty yet?"
"Well, I had to find a job. I have been busy."
"You must find time for him if you have none for anything else. Good Lord, man! you're a fool not to have been down to the Union House and registered your name the first morning after you came here! If you run against him--well, you mustn't, that's all!"
McMurdo showed mild surprise. "I've been a member of the lodge for over two years, Scanlan, but I never heard that duties were so pressing as all that."
"Maybe not in Chicago."
"Well, it's the same society here."
"Is it?"
Scanlan looked at him long and fixedly. There was something sinister in his eyes.
"Isn't it?"
"You'll tell me that in a month's time. I hear you had a talk with the patrolmen after I left the train."
"How did you know that?"
"Oh, it got about--things do get about for good and for bad in this district."
"Well, yes. I told the hounds what I thought of them."
"By the Lord, you'll be a man after McGinty's heart!"
"What, does he hate the police too?"
Scanlan burst out laughing. "You go and see him, my lad," said he as he took his leave. "It's not the police but you that he'll hate if you don't! Now, take a friend's advice and go at once!"
It chanced that on the same evening McMurdo had another more pressing interview which urged him in the same direction. It may have been that his attentions to Ettie had been more evident than before, or that they had gradually obtruded themselves into the slow mind of his good German host; but, whatever the cause, the boarding-house keeper beckoned the young man into his private room and started on the subject without any circumlocution.
"It seems to me, mister," said he, "that you are gettin' set on my Ettie. Ain't that so, or am I wrong?"
"Yes, that is so," the young man answered.
"Vell, I vant to tell you right now that it ain't no manner of use. There's someone slipped in afore you."
"She told me so."
"Vell, you can lay that she told you truth. But did she tell you who it vas?"
"No, I asked her; but she wouldn't tell."
"I dare say not, the leetle baggage! Perhaps she did not vish to frighten you avay."
"Frighten!" McMurdo was on fire in a moment.
"Ah, yes, my friend! You need not be ashamed to be frightened of him. It is Teddy Baldwin."
"And who the devil is he?"
"He is a boss of Scowrers."
"Scowrers! I've heard of them before. It's Scowrers here and Scowrers there, and always in a whisper! What are you all afraid of? Who are the Scowrers?"
The boarding-house keeper instinctively sank his voice, as everyone did who talked about that terrible society. "The Scowrers," said he, "are the Eminent Order of Freemen!"
The young man stared. "Why, I am a member of that order myself."
"You! I vould never have had you in my house if I had known it--not if you vere to pay me a hundred dollar a veek."
"What's wrong with the order? It's for charity and good fellowship. The rules say so."
"Maybe in some places. Not here!"
"What is it here?"
"It's a murder society, that's vat it is."
McMurdo laughed incredulously. "How can you prove that?" he asked.
"Prove it! Are there not fifty murders to prove it? Vat about Milman and Van Shorst, and the Nicholson family, and old Mr. Hyam, and little Billy James, and the others? Prove it! Is there a man or a voman in this valley vat does not know it?"
"See here!" said McMurdo earnestly. "I want you to take back what you've said, or else make it good. One or the other you must do before I quit this room. Put yourself in my place. Here am I, a stranger in the town. I belong to a society that I know only as an innocent one. You'll find it through the length and breadth of the States, but always as an innocent one. Now, when I am counting upon joining it here, you tell me that it is the same as a murder society called the Scowrers. I guess you owe me either an apology or else an explanation, Mr. Shafter."
"I can but tell you vat the whole vorld knows, mister. The bosses of the one are the bosses of the other. If you offend the one, it is the other vat vill strike you. We have proved it too often."
"That's just gossip--I want proof!" said McMurdo.
"If you live here long you vill get your proof. But I forget that you are yourself one of them. You vill soon be as bad as the rest. But you vill find other lodgings, mister. I cannot have you here. Is it not bad enough that one of these people come courting my Ettie, and that I dare not turn him down, but that I should have another for my boarder? Yes, indeed, you shall not sleep here after to-night!"
McMurdo found himself under sentence of banishment both from his comfortable quarters and from the girl whom he loved. He found her alone in the sitting-room that same evening, and he poured his troubles into her ear.
"Sure, your father is after giving me notice," he said. "It's little I would care if it was just my room, but indeed, Ettie, though it's only a week that I've known you, you are the very breath of life to me, and I can't live without you!"
"Oh, hush, Mr. McMurdo, don't speak so!" said the girl. "I have told you, have I not, that you are too late? There is another, and if I have not promised to marry him at once, at least I can promise no one else."
"Suppose I had been first, Ettie, would I have had a chance?"
The girl sank her face into her hands. "I wish to heaven that you had been first!" she sobbed.
McMurdo was down on his knees before her in an instant. "For God's sake, Ettie, let it stand at that!" he cried. "Will you ruin your life and my own for the sake of this promise? Follow your heart, acushla! 'Tis a safer guide than any promise before you knew what it was that you were saying."
He had seized Ettie's white hand between his own strong brown ones.
"Say that you will be mine, and we will face it out together!"
"Not here?"
"Yes, here."
"No, no, Jack!" His arms were round her now. "It could not be here. Could you take me away?"
A struggle passed for a moment over McMurdo's face; but it ended by setting like granite. "No, here," he said. "I'll hold you against the world, Ettie, right here where we are!"
"Why should we not leave together?"
"No, Ettie, I can't leave here."
"But why?"
"I'd never hold my head up again if I felt that I had been driven out. Besides, what is there to be afraid of? Are we not free folks in a free country? If you love me, and I you, who will dare to come between?"
"You don't know, Jack. You've been here too short a time. You don't know this Baldwin. You don't know McGinty and his Scowrers."
"No, I don't know them, and I don't fear them, and I don't believe in them!" said McMurdo. "I've lived among rough men, my darling, and instead of fearing them it has always ended that they have feared me--always, Ettie. It's mad on the face of it! If these men, as your father says, have done crime after crime in the valley, and if everyone knows them by name, how comes it that none are brought to justice? You answer me that, Ettie!"
"Because no witness dares to appear against them. He would not live a month if he did. Also because they have always their own men to swear that the accused one was far from the scene of the crime. But surely, Jack, you must have read all this. I had understood that every paper in the United States was writing about it."
"Well, I have read something, it is true; but I had thought it was a story. Maybe these men have some reason in what they do. Maybe they are wronged and have no other way to help themselves."
"Oh, Jack, don't let me hear you speak so! That is how he speaks--the other one!"
"Baldwin--he speaks like that, does he?"
"And that is why I loathe him so. Oh, Jack, now I can tell you the truth. I loathe him with all my heart; but I fear him also. I fear him for myself; but above all I fear him for father. I know that some great sorrow would come upon us if I dared to say what I really felt. That is why I have put him off with half-promises. It was in real truth our only hope. But if you would fly with me, Jack, we could take father with us and live forever far from the power of these wicked men."
Again there was the struggle upon McMurdo's face, and again it set like granite. "No harm shall come to you, Ettie--nor to your father either. As to wicked men, I expect you may find that I am as bad as the worst of them before we're through."
"No, no, Jack! I would trust you anywhere."
McMurdo laughed bitterly. "Good Lord! how little you know of me! Your innocent soul, my darling, could not even guess what is passing in mine. But, hullo, who's the visitor?"
The door had opened suddenly, and a young fellow came swaggering in with the air of one who is the master. He was a handsome, dashing young man of about the same age and build as McMurdo himself. Under his broad-brimmed black felt hat, which he had not troubled to remove, a handsome face with fierce, domineering eyes and a curved hawk-bill of a nose looked savagely at the pair who sat by the stove.
Ettie had jumped to her feet full of confusion and alarm. "I'm glad to see you, Mr. Baldwin," said she. "You're earlier than I had thought. Come and sit down."
Baldwin stood with his hands on his hips looking at McMurdo. "Who is this?" he asked curtly.
"It's a friend of mine, Mr. Baldwin, a new boarder here. Mr. McMurdo, may I introduce you to Mr. Baldwin?"
The young men nodded in surly fashion to each other.
"Maybe Miss Ettie has told you how it is with us?" said Baldwin.
"I didn't understand that there was any relation between you."
"Didn't you? Well, you can understand it now. You can take it from me that this young lady is mine, and you'll find it a very fine evening for a walk."
"Thank you, I am in no humour for a walk."
"Aren't you?" The man's savage eyes were blazing with anger. "Maybe you are in a humour for a fight, Mr. Boarder!"
"That I am!" cried McMurdo, springing to his feet. "You never said a more welcome word."
"For God's sake, Jack! Oh, for God's sake!" cried poor, distracted Ettie. "Oh, Jack, Jack, he will hurt you!"
"Oh, it's Jack, is it?" said Baldwin with an oath. "You've come to that already, have you?"
"Oh, Ted, be reasonable--be kind! For my sake, Ted, if ever you loved me, be big-hearted and forgiving!"
"I think, Ettie, that if you were to leave us alone we could get this thing settled," said McMurdo quietly. "Or maybe, Mr. Baldwin, you will take a turn down the street with me. It's a fine evening, and there's some open ground beyond the next block."
"I'll get even with you without needing to dirty my hands," said his enemy. "You'll wish you had never set foot in this house before I am through with you!"
"No time like the present," cried McMurdo.
"I'll choose my own time, mister. You can leave the time to me. See here!" He suddenly rolled up his sleeve and showed upon his forearm a peculiar sign which appeared to have been branded there. It was a circle with a triangle within it. "D'you know what that means?"
"I neither know nor care!"
"Well, you will know, I'll promise you that. You won't be much older, either. Perhaps Miss Ettie can tell you something about it. As to you, Ettie, you'll come back to me on your knees--d'ye hear, girl?--on your knees--and then I'll tell you what your punishment may be. You've sowed--and by the Lord, I'll see that you reap!" He glanced at them both in fury. Then he turned upon his heel, and an instant later the outer door had banged behind him.
For a few moments McMurdo and the girl stood in silence. Then she threw her arms around him.
"Oh, Jack, how brave you were! But it is no use, you must fly! To-night--Jack--to-night! It's your only hope. He will have your life. I read it in his horrible eyes. What chance have you against a dozen of them, with Boss McGinty and all the power of the lodge behind them?"
McMurdo disengaged her hands, kissed her, and gently pushed her back into a chair. "There, acushla, there! Don't be disturbed or fear for me. I'm a Freeman myself. I'm after telling your father about it. Maybe I am no better than the others; so don't make a saint of me. Perhaps you hate me too, now that I've told you as much?"
"Hate you, Jack? While life lasts I could never do that! I've heard that there is no harm in being a Freeman anywhere but here; so why should I think the worse of you for that? But if you are a Freeman, Jack, why should you not go down and make a friend of Boss McGinty? Oh, hurry, Jack, hurry! Get your word in first, or the hounds will be on your trail."
"I was thinking the same thing," said McMurdo. "I'll go right now and fix it. You can tell your father that I'll sleep here to-night and find some other quarters in the morning."
The bar of McGinty's saloon was crowded as usual; for it was the favourite loafing place of all the rougher elements of the town. The man was popular; for he had a rough, jovial disposition which formed a mask, covering a great deal which lay behind it. But apart from this popularity, the fear in which he was held throughout the township, and indeed down the whole thirty miles of the valley and past the mountains on each side of it, was enough in itself to fill his bar; for none could afford to neglect his good will.
Besides those secret powers which it was universally believed that he exercised in so pitiless a fashion, he was a high public official, a municipal councillor, and a commissioner of roads, elected to the office through the votes of the ruffians who in turn expected to receive favours at his hands. Assessments and taxes were enormous; the public works were notoriously neglected, the accounts were slurred over by bribed auditors, and the decent citizen was terrorized into paying public blackmail, and holding his tongue lest some worse thing befall him.
Thus it was that, year by year, Boss McGinty's diamond pins became more obtrusive, his gold chains more weighty across a more gorgeous vest, and his saloon stretched farther and farther, until it threatened to absorb one whole side of the Market Square.
McMurdo pushed open the swinging door of the saloon and made his way amid the crowd of men within, through an atmosphere blurred with tobacco smoke and heavy with the smell of spirits. The place was brilliantly lighted, and the huge, heavily gilt mirrors upon every wall reflected and multiplied the garish illumination. There were several bartenders in their shirt sleeves, hard at work mixing drinks for the loungers who fringed the broad, brass-trimmed counter.
At the far end, with his body resting upon the bar and a cigar stuck at an acute angle from the corner of his mouth, stood a tall, strong, heavily built man who could be none other than the famous McGinty himself. He was a black-maned giant, bearded to the cheek-bones, and with a shock of raven hair which fell to his collar. His complexion was as swarthy as that of an Italian, and his eyes were of a strange dead black, which, combined with a slight squint, gave them a particularly sinister appearance.
All else in the man--his noble proportions, his fine features, and his frank bearing--fitted in with that jovial, man-to-man manner which he affected. Here, one would say, is a bluff, honest fellow, whose heart would be sound however rude his outspoken words might seem. It was only when those dead, dark eyes, deep and remorseless, were turned upon a man that he shrank within himself, feeling that he was face to face with an infinite possibility of latent evil, with a strength and courage and cunning behind it which made it a thousand times more deadly.
Having had a good look at his man, McMurdo elbowed his way forward with his usual careless audacity, and pushed himself through the little group of courtiers who were fawning upon the powerful boss, laughing uproariously at the smallest of his jokes. The young stranger's bold gray eyes looked back fearlessly through their glasses at the deadly black ones which turned sharply upon him.
"Well, young man, I can't call your face to mind."
"I'm new here, Mr. McGinty."
"You are not so new that you can't give a gentleman his proper title."
"He's Councillor McGinty, young man," said a voice from the group.
"I'm sorry, Councillor. I'm strange to the ways of the place. But I was advised to see you."
"Well, you see me. This is all there is. What d'you think of me?"
"Well, it's early days. If your heart is as big as your body, and your soul as fine as your face, then I'd ask for nothing better," said McMurdo.
"By Gar! you've got an Irish tongue in your head anyhow," cried the saloon-keeper, not quite certain whether to humour this audacious visitor or to stand upon his dignity.
"So you are good enough to pass my appearance?"
"Sure," said McMurdo.
"And you were told to see me?"
"I was."
"And who told you?"
"Brother Scanlan of Lodge 341, Vermissa. I drink your health Councillor, and to our better acquaintance." He raised a glass with which he had been served to his lips and elevated his little finger as he drank it.
McGinty, who had been watching him narrowly, raised his thick black eyebrows. "Oh, it's like that, is it?" said he. "I'll have to look a bit closer into this, Mister--"
"McMurdo."
"A bit closer, Mr. McMurdo; for we don't take folk on trust in these parts, nor believe all we're told neither. Come in here for a moment, behind the bar."
There was a small room there, lined with barrels. McGinty carefully closed the door, and then seated himself on one of them, biting thoughtfully on his cigar and surveying his companion with those disquieting eyes. For a couple of minutes he sat in complete silence. McMurdo bore the inspection cheerfully, one hand in his coat pocket, the other twisting his brown moustache. Suddenly McGinty stooped and produced a wicked-looking revolver.
"See here, my joker," said he, "if I thought you were playing any game on us, it would be short work for you."
"This is a strange welcome," McMurdo answered with some dignity, "for the Bodymaster of a lodge of Freemen to give to a stranger brother."
"Ay, but it's just that same that you have to prove," said McGinty, "and God help you if you fail! Where were you made?"
"Lodge 29, Chicago."
"When?"
"June 24, 1872."
"What Bodymaster?"
"James H. Scott."
"Who is your district ruler?"
"Bartholomew Wilson."
"Hum! You seem glib enough in your tests. What are you doing here?"
"Working, the same as you--but a poorer job."
"You have your back answer quick enough."
"Yes, I was always quick of speech."
"Are you quick of action?"
"I have had that name among those that knew me best."
"Well, we may try you sooner than you think. Have you heard anything of the lodge in these parts?"
"I've heard that it takes a man to be a brother."
"True for you, Mr. McMurdo. Why did you leave Chicago?"
"I'm damned if I tell you that!"
McGinty opened his eyes. He was not used to being answered in such fashion, and it amused him. "Why won't you tell me?"
"Because no brother may tell another a lie."
"Then the truth is too bad to tell?"
"You can put it that way if you like."
"See here, mister, you can't expect me, as Bodymaster, to pass into the lodge a man for whose past he can't answer."
McMurdo looked puzzled. Then he took a worn newspaper cutting from an inner pocket.
"You wouldn't squeal on a fellow?" said he.
"I'll wipe my hand across your face if you say such words to me!" cried McGinty hotly.
"You are right, Councillor," said McMurdo meekly. "I should apologize. I spoke without thought. Well, I know that I am safe in your hands. Look at that clipping."
McGinty glanced his eyes over the account of the shooting of one Jonas Pinto, in the Lake Saloon, Market Street, Chicago, in the New Year week of 1874.
"Your work?" he asked, as he handed back the paper.
McMurdo nodded.
"Why did you shoot him?"
"I was helping Uncle Sam to make dollars. Maybe mine were not as good gold as his, but they looked as well and were cheaper to make. This man Pinto helped me to shove the queer--"
"To do what?"
"Well, it means to pass the dollars out into circulation. Then he said he would split. Maybe he did split. I didn't wait to see. I just killed him and lighted out for the coal country."
"Why the coal country?"
"'Cause I'd read in the papers that they weren't too particular in those parts."
McGinty laughed. "You were first a coiner and then a murderer, and you came to these parts because you thought you'd be welcome."
"That's about the size of it," McMurdo answered.
"Well, I guess you'll go far. Say, can you make those dollars yet?"
McMurdo took half a dozen from his pocket. "Those never passed the Philadelphia mint," said he.
"You don't say!" McGinty held them to the light in his enormous hand, which was hairy as a gorilla's. "I can see no difference. Gar! you'll be a mighty useful brother, I'm thinking! We can do with a bad man or two among us, Friend McMurdo: for there are times when we have to take our own part. We'd soon be against the wall if we didn't shove back at those that were pushing us."
"Well, I guess I'll do my share of shoving with the rest of the boys."
"You seem to have a good nerve. You didn't squirm when I shoved this gun at you."
"It was not me that was in danger."
"Who then?"
"It was you, Councillor." McMurdo drew a cocked pistol from the side pocket of his peajacket. "I was covering you all the time. I guess my shot would have been as quick as yours."
"By Gar!" McGinty flushed an angry red and then burst into a roar of laughter. "Say, we've had no such holy terror come to hand this many a year. I reckon the lodge will learn to be proud of you.... Well, what the hell do you want? And can't I speak alone with a gentleman for five minutes but you must butt in on us?"
The bartender stood abashed. "I'm sorry, Councillor, but it's Ted Baldwin. He says he must see you this very minute."
The message was unnecessary; for the set, cruel face of the man himself was looking over the servant's shoulder. He pushed the bartender out and closed the door on him.
"So," said he with a furious glance at McMurdo, "you got here first, did you? I've a word to say to you, Councillor, about this man."
"Then say it here and now before my face," cried McMurdo.
"I'll say it at my own time, in my own way."
"Tut! Tut!" said McGinty, getting off his barrel. "This will never do. We have a new brother here, Baldwin, and it's not for us to greet him in such fashion. Hold out your hand, man, and make it up!"
"Never!" cried Baldwin in a fury.
"I've offered to fight him if he thinks I have wronged him," said McMurdo. "I'll fight him with fists, or, if that won't satisfy him, I'll fight him any other way he chooses. Now, I'll leave it to you, Councillor, to judge between us as a Bodymaster should."
"What is it, then?"
"A young lady. She's free to choose for herself."
"Is she?" cried Baldwin.
"As between two brothers of the lodge I should say that she was," said the Boss.
"Oh, that's your ruling, is it?"
"Yes, it is, Ted Baldwin," said McGinty, with a wicked stare. "Is it you that would dispute it?"
"You would throw over one that has stood by you this five years in favour of a man that you never saw before in your life? You're not Bodymaster for life, Jack McGinty, and by God! when next it comes to a vote--"
The Councillor sprang at him like a tiger. His hand closed round the other's neck, and he hurled him back across one of the barrels. In his mad fury he would have squeezed the life out of him if McMurdo had not interfered.
"Easy, Councillor! For heaven's sake, go easy!" he cried, as he dragged him back.
McGinty released his hold, and Baldwin, cowed and shaken gasping for breath, and shivering in every limb, as one who has looked over the very edge of death, sat up on the barrel over which he had been hurled.
"You've been asking for it this many a day, Ted Baldwin--now you've got it!" cried McGinty, his huge chest rising and falling. "Maybe you think if I was voted down from Bodymaster you would find yourself in my shoes. It's for the lodge to say that. But so long as I am the chief I'll have no man lift his voice against me or my rulings."
"I have nothing against you," mumbled Baldwin, feeling his throat.
"Well, then," cried the other, relapsing in a moment into a bluff joviality, "we are all good friends again and there's an end of the matter."
He took a bottle of champagne down from the shelf and twisted out the cork.
"See now," he continued, as he filled three high glasses. "Let us drink the quarrelling toast of the lodge. After that, as you know, there can be no bad blood between us. Now, then the left hand on the apple of my throat. I say to you, Ted Baldwin, what is the offense, sir?"
"The clouds are heavy," answered Baldwin
"But they will forever brighten."
"And this I swear!"
The men drank their glasses, and the same ceremony was performed between Baldwin and McMurdo
"There!" cried McGinty, rubbing his hands. "That's the end of the black blood. You come under lodge discipline if it goes further, and that's a heavy hand in these parts, as Brother Baldwin knows--and as you will damn soon find out, Brother McMurdo, if you ask for trouble!"
"Faith, I'd be slow to do that," said McMurdo. He held out his hand to Baldwin. "I'm quick to quarrel and quick to forgive. It's my hot Irish blood, they tell me. But it's over for me, and I bear no grudge."
Baldwin had to take the proffered hand; for the baleful eye of the terrible Boss was upon him. But his sullen face showed how little the words of the other had moved him.
McGinty clapped them both on the shoulders. "Tut! These girls! These girls!" he cried. "To think that the same petticoats should come between two of my boys! It's the devil's own luck! Well, it's the colleen inside of them that must settle the question; for it's outside the jurisdiction of a Bodymaster--and the Lord be praised for that! We have enough on us, without the women as well. You'll have to be affiliated to Lodge 341, Brother McMurdo. We have our own ways and methods, different from Chicago. Saturday night is our meeting, and if you come then, we'll make you free forever of the Vermissa Valley."
麦克默多很快就使自己出了名。无论他到哪里，周围的人立刻就知道了。不到一个星期，麦克默多已经变成谢夫特寓所的一个极为重要的人物。这里有十到十二个寄宿者，不过他们是诚实的工头或者是商店的普通店员，与这个年轻的爱尔兰人的脾性完全不同。晚上，他们聚在一起，麦克默多总是谈笑风生，出语不凡，而他的歌声则异常出色。他是一个天生的挚友，具有使他周围的人心情舒畅的魅力。
但是他一次又一次象他在火车上那样，显出超人的智力和突如其来的暴怒，使人敬畏。他从来不把法律和一切执法的人放在眼里，这使他的一些同宿人感到高兴，使另一些人惊恐不安。
一开始，他就做得很明显，公然赞美说，从他看到她的美貌容颜和娴雅丰姿起，这房主人的女儿就俘获了他的心。他不是一个畏缩不前的求婚者，第二天他就向姑娘表诉衷情，从此以后，他总是翻来覆去地说爱她，完全不顾她会说些什么使他灰心丧气的话。
“还有什么人呢！"他大声说道，“好，让他倒霉吧！让他小心点吧！我能把我一生的机缘和我全部身心所向往的人让给别人吗？你可以坚持说'不'，伊蒂！但总有一天你会说'行'，我还年轻 ，完全可以等待。”
麦克默多是一个危险的求婚者，他有一张爱尔兰人能说会道的嘴巴和一套随机应变、连哄带骗的手段。他还有丰富的经验和神秘莫测的魅力，颇能博得妇女的欢心，最终得到她的爱情。他谈其他出身地莫纳根郡那些可爱的山谷，谈到引人入胜的遥远的岛屿、低矮的小山和绿油油的湖边草地，从这种到处是尘埃和积雪的地方去想象那里的景色，更仿佛使人觉得它愈发美妙无穷。
他然后把话题转到北方城市的生活，他熟悉底特律和密执安州一些伐木区新兴的市镇，最后还到过芝加哥，他在那里一家锯木厂里作工。然后就暗示地说到风流韵事，说到在那个大都会遇到的奇事，而那些奇事是那么离奇，又是那么隐秘，简直非言语所能讲述。他有时忽然若有所思地远离话题，有时话题突然中断，有时飞往一个神奇的世界，有时结局就在这沉闷而荒凉的山谷里。而伊蒂静静地听他讲述，她那一双乌黑的大眼里闪现出怜悯和同情的光彩，而这两种心情一定会那么急速、那么自然地转变成爱情。
因为麦克默多是一个受过良好教育的人，所以他找到了一个记帐员的临时工作。这就占去了他大部分的白昼时间，也就无暇去向自由人分会的头目报到。一天晚上，他在火车上认识的旅伴迈克•斯坎伦来拜访他，才提醒了麦克默多。斯坎伦个子矮小 ，面容瘦削，眼睛黑黑的，是一个胆小怕事的人。他很高兴又看到了麦克默多。喝了一两杯威士忌酒以后，斯坎伦说明了来意。
“喂，麦克默多，"斯坎伦说道，“我记得你的地址，所以我冒昧地来找你，我真奇怪，你怎么没有去向身主报到，为什么还不去拜谒首领麦金蒂呢？”
“啊，我正在找事，太忙了。”
“如果你没有别的事，你一定要找时间去看看他。天啊，伙计，你到这里以后，第一天早晨竟没有到工会去登记姓名 ，简直是疯了！要是你得罪了他，唉，你决不要……就说到这吧！”
麦克默多有点惊奇，说道：“斯坎伦，我入会已经两年多了，可是我从来没听到过象这样紧急的义务呢。”
“在芝加哥或许不是这样！”
“嗯，那里也是同样的社团啊。”
“是吗？"斯坎伦久久地凝视着他，眼里闪出凶光。
“不是吗？”
“这些事你以后可以在一个月的时间内给我讲清楚。我听说我下车后你和警察争吵过。”
“你怎么知道这些事的呢？”
“啊，在这地方，好事坏事都传得很快。”
“嗯，不错。我把我对这帮家伙的看法告诉了他们。”
“天哪，你一定会变成为麦金蒂的心腹人的！”
“什么？他也恨这些警察吗？”
斯坎伦迸发出一阵笑声。
“你去看他吧，我的伙计，"斯坎伦在告辞起身时对麦克默多说道，“如果你不去看他，那他就不是恨警察，而要恨你了。现在，请你接受一个朋友的规劝，马上去看他吧！”
碰巧就在这天晚上，麦克默多遇到一个更紧急的情况，使他不得不这样去做。也许因为他对伊蒂的关心比以前更明显，也许这种关心被好心的德国房东逐渐觉察出来。但不管什么原因，反正房东把这个年轻人招呼到自己房中，毫不掩饰地谈到正题上来。
“先生，据我看来，"他说道，“你渐渐地爱上我的伊蒂了，是这样吗？还是我误会了？”
“是的，正是这样，"年轻人答道。
“好，现在我对你直说吧，这是毫无用处的。在你以前，已经有人缠上她了。”
“她也对我这么说过。”
“好，你应当相信她说的是真情。不过，她告诉你这个人是谁了吗？”
“没有，我问过她，可是她不肯告诉我。”
“我想她不会告诉你的，这个小丫头。也许她不愿意把你吓跑吧。”
“吓跑！"麦克默多一下子火冒三丈。
“啊，不错，我的朋友！你怕他，这也不算什么羞耻啊。这个人是特德•鲍德温。”
“这恶魔是什么人？”
“他是死酷党的一个首领。”
“死酷党！以前我听说过。这里也有死酷党，那里也有死酷党，而且总是窃窃私语！你们大家都怕什么呢？死酷党到底是些什么人呢？”
房东象每一个人谈起那个恐怖组织时一样，本能地放低了声音。
“死酷党，"他说道，“就是自由人会。”
年轻人大吃一惊，说道：“为什么？我自己就是一个自由人会会员。”
“你！要是我早知道，我决不会让你住在我这里——即使你每星期给我一百美元，我也不干。”
“这个自由人会有什么不好呢？会章的宗旨是博爱和增进友谊啊。”
“有些地方可能是这样的。这里却不然！”
“它在这里是什么样的呢？”
“是一个暗杀组织，正是这样。”
麦克默多不相信地笑了笑，问道：
“你有什么证据呢？”
“证据！这里怕没有五十桩暗杀事件做证据！象米尔曼和范肖尔斯特，还有尼科尔森一家，老海厄姆先生，小比利•詹姆斯以及其他一些人不都是证据吗？还要证据！这个山谷里难道还有一个男女不了解死酷党么？”
“喂！"麦克默多诚恳地说道，“我希望你收回你说的话，或是向我道歉。你必须先做到其中一点，然后我就搬走。你替我设身处地想一想，我在这个镇子里是一个外乡人，我是一个社团成员，但我只知道这是一个纯洁的社团。你在全国范围内到处可以找到它，不过总是一个纯洁的组织。现在，正当我打算加入这里的组织时，你说它全然是一个杀人的社团，叫做'死酷党'。我认为你该向我道歉，不然的话，就请你解释明白，谢夫特先生。”
“我只能告诉你，这是全世界都知道的，先生。自由人会的首领，就是死酷党的首领。假如你得罪了这一个，那一个就要报复你。我们的证据太多了。”
“这不过是一些流言蜚语！我要的是证据！"麦克默多说道。
“假如你在这儿住长些，你自己就会找到证据的。不过我忘了你也是其中的一员了。你很快就会变得和他们一样坏。不过你可以住到别处去，先生。我不能再留你住在这里了。一个死酷党人来勾引我的伊蒂，而我不敢拒绝，这已经够糟糕了，我还能再收另一个做我的房客吗？对，真的，过了今晚，你不能再住在这里了。”
因此，麦克默多知道，他不仅要被赶出舒适的住处，而且被迫离开他所爱的姑娘。就在这天晚上，他发现伊蒂独自一人坐在屋里，便向她倾诉了遇到的麻烦事。
“诚然，尽管你父亲已经下了逐客令，"麦克默多说道，“如果这仅仅是我的住处问题，那我就不在乎了。不过，说老实话，伊蒂，虽然我认识你仅仅一个星期，你已经是我生命中不可缺少的了，离开你我无法生活啊！”
“啊，别说了，麦克默多先生！别这么说！"姑娘说道，“我已经告诉过你，我没告诉过你吗？你来得太晚了。有另外一个人，即使我没有答应马上嫁给他，至少我决不能再许配其他人了。”
“伊蒂，我要是先向你求婚，那就行了吗？”
姑娘双手掩着脸，呜咽地说：“天哪，我多么愿意你是先来求婚的啊！”
麦克默多当即跪在她的面前，大声说道：
“看在上帝面上，伊蒂，那就按你刚说的那样办吧！你难道愿意为了轻轻一诺而毁灭你我一生的幸福吗？我心爱的，就照你的心意办吧！你知道你刚才说的是什么，这比你任何允诺都要可靠。”
麦克默多把伊蒂雪白的小手放在自己两只健壮有力的褐色大手中间，说道：
“说一声你是我的吧，让我们同心合力应付不测。”
“我们不留在这儿吧？”
“不，就留在这儿。”
“不，不，杰克！"麦克默多这时双手搂住她，她说道，“决不能在这儿。你能带我远走高飞吗？”
麦克默多脸上一时现出踌躇不决的样子，可是最后还是显露出坚决果敢的神色来。
“不，还是留在这儿，"他说道，“伊蒂，我们寸步不移，我会保护你的。”
“为什么我们不一起离开呢？”
“不行，伊蒂，我不能离开这儿。”
“到底为什么呢？”
“假如我觉得我是被人赶走的，那就再也抬不起头来了。再说，这儿又有什么可怕的呢？我们难道不是一个自由国家里的自由人吗？如果你爱我，我也爱你，谁敢来在我们中间插手呢？”
“你不了解，杰克，你来这儿的时间太短了。你还不了解这个鲍德温。你也不了解麦金蒂和他的死酷党。”
“是的，我不了解他们，可是我不怕他们，我也不相信他们！"麦克默多说道，“我在粗野的人群里混过，亲爱的，我不光是不怕他们，相反，到头来他们总是怕我——总是这样，伊蒂。乍看起来这简直是发疯！要是这些人，象你父亲说的那样，在这山谷中屡次为非作歹，大家又都知道他们的名字，那怎么没有一个人受法律制裁呢？请你回答我这个问题，伊蒂！”
“因为没有人敢出面对证。如果谁去作证，他连一个月也活不了。还因为他们的同党很多，总是出来作假证说被告和某案某案不沾边。杰克，肯定说这一切你会自己看出来的！我早知道美国的每家报纸对这方面都有报道。”
“不错，我确实也看到过一些，可我总以为这都是编造出来的。也许这些人做这种事总有些原因。也许他们受了冤屈，不得已而为之吧。”
“唉，杰克，我不爱听这种话！他也是这样说的——那个人！”
“鲍德温——他也这么说吗？是吗？”
“就因为这个，我才讨厌他。啊，杰克，我现在可以告诉你实话了，我打心眼儿里讨厌他，可是又怕他。我为我自己而怕他，不过，主要是为我父亲，我才怕他。我知道，要是我敢向他说出真心话，那我们爷儿俩就要遭大难了。所以我才半真半假地敷衍他。其实我们爷儿俩也只剩这点儿希望了。只要你能带我远走高飞，杰克，我们可以把父亲也带上，永远摆脱这些恶人的势力。”
麦克默多脸上又显出踌躇不决的神色，后来又斩钉截铁地说：
“你不会大祸临头的，伊蒂，你父亲也一样。要说恶人，只要我俩还活着，你会发现，我比他们最凶恶的人还要凶恶呢。”
“不，不，杰克！我完全相信你。”
麦克默多苦笑道：“天啊，你对我太不了解了！亲爱的，你那纯洁的灵魂，甚至想象不出我所经历过的事。可是，喂，谁来了？”
这时门突然打开了，一个年轻的家伙以主子的架式大摇大摆地走进来。这是一个面目清秀、衣着华丽的年轻人，年龄和体形同麦克默多差不多，戴着一顶大沿黑毡帽，进门连帽子也不劳神摘掉，那张漂亮的面孔，长着一双凶狠而又盛起凌人的眼睛和弯曲的鹰钩鼻子，粗暴无礼地瞪着坐在火炉旁的这对青年男女。
伊蒂马上跳起来，不知所措，惊恐不安。
“我很高兴看到你，鲍德温先生，"她说道，“你来得比我想的要早一些。过来坐吧。”
鲍德温双手叉腰站在那里看着麦克默多。
“这是谁？"他粗率无礼地问道。
“鲍德温先生，这是我的朋友，新房客麦克默多先生，我可以把你介绍给鲍德温先生吗？”
两个年轻人相互敌视似地点点头。
“也许伊蒂小姐已经把我俩的事告诉你了？"鲍德温说道。
“我不知道你俩有什么关系。”
“你不知道吗？好，现在你该明白了。我可以告诉你，这个姑娘是我的，你看今晚天气很好，散步去。”
“谢谢你，我没有心思去散步。”
“你不走吗？"那人一双暴眼皮得冒出火来，“也许你有决斗的心思吧，房客先生？”
“这个我有，"麦克默多一跃而起，大声喊道，“你这话最受欢迎不过了！”
“看在上帝面上，杰克！唉，看在上帝面上！"可怜的伊蒂心慌意乱地喊道，“唉，杰克，杰克，他会杀害你的！”
“啊，叫他'杰克'，是吗？"鲍德温咒骂道，“你们已经这样亲热了吗？是不？”
“噢，特德，理智点吧，仁慈点吧！看在我的面上，特德，假如你爱我，发发善心饶恕他吧！”
“我想，伊蒂，如果你让我们两个人单独留下来，我们可以解决这件事的，"麦克默多平静地说道，“要不然，鲍德温先生，你可以和我一起到街上去，今天夜色很好，附近街区有许多空旷的场地。”
“我甚至用不着脏了我的两只手，就可以干掉你，"他的敌手说道，“在我结果你以前，你会懊悔不该到这宅子里来的。”
“没有比现在更适合的时候了，"麦克默多喊道。
“我要选择我自己的时间，先生。你等着瞧吧。请你看看这里！"鲍德温突然挽起袖子，指了指前臂上烙出的一个怪标记：一个圆圈里面套个三角形，“你知道这是什么意思吗？”
“我不知道，也不屑于知道！”
“好，你会知道的，我敢担保。你也不会活得太久了。也许伊蒂小姐能够告诉你这些事。说到你，伊蒂，你要跪着来见我，听见了吗？丫头！双膝跪下！那时我会告诉你应受怎样的惩罚。你既然种了瓜，我要看你自食其果！"他狂怒地瞪了他们两个一眼，转身就走，转眼间大门砰地一声在他身后关上了。
麦克默多和姑娘一声不响地站了一会儿。然后她伸开双臂紧紧地拥抱了他。
“噢，杰克，你是多么勇敢啊！可是这没有用——你一定要逃走！今天晚上走，杰克，今天晚上走！这是你唯一的希望了。他一定要害你。我从他那凶恶的眼睛里看出来了，你怎么能对付他们那么多人呢？再说，他们身后还有首领麦金蒂和分会的一切势力。”
麦克默多挣开她的双手，吻了吻她，温柔地把她扶到椅子上坐下来。
“我亲爱的，请你不要为我担惊受怕，在那里，我也是自由人会的一会员。我已经告诉你父亲了。也许我并不比他们那些人好多少，所以你也不要把我当圣人。或许你也会照样恨我的。现在我已经都告诉你了。”
“恨你？杰克！只要我活着，我永远不会恨你的。我听说除了此地，在哪儿当个自由人会会员都不妨，我怎么会因此拿你当坏人呢？可是你既然是一个自由人会会员，杰克，为什么你不去和麦金蒂交朋友呢？噢，赶快，杰克，赶快！你要先去告状，要不然，这条疯狗不会放过你的。”
“我也这样想，"麦克默多说道，“我现在就去打点一下。你可以告诉你父亲我今晚住在这里，明早我就另找别的住处。”
麦金蒂酒馆的酒吧间象往常一样挤满了人。因为这里是镇上一切无赖酒徒最喜爱的乐园。麦金蒂很受爱戴，因为他性情快活粗犷，形成了一副假面具，完全掩盖了他的真面目。不过，且不要说他的名望，不仅全镇都怕他，而且整个山谷三十英里方圆之内，以及山谷两侧山上的人没有不怕他的。就凭这个，他的酒吧间里也有人满之患了，因为谁也不敢怠慢他。
人们都知道他的手腕毒辣，除了那些秘密势力以外，麦金蒂还是一个高级政府官员，市议会议员，路政长官，这都是那些流氓地痞为了在他手下得到庇护，才把他选进政府去的。苛捐杂税愈来愈重；社会公益事业无人管理，乃至声名狼藉；到处对查帐人大加贿赂，使帐目蒙混过去；正派的市民都害怕他们公开的敲诈勒索，并且都噤若寒蝉，生怕横祸临头。
就这样，一年又一年，首领麦金蒂的钻石别针变得愈来愈眩人眼目，他那非常豪华的背心下露出的金表链也愈来愈重，他在镇上开的酒馆也愈来愈扩大，几乎有占据市场一侧之势。
麦克默多推开了酒馆时髦的店门，走到里面的人群中。酒馆里烟雾弥漫，酒气熏天，灯火辉煌，四面墙上巨大而光耀眩目的镜子反映出并增添了鲜艳夺目的色彩。一些穿短袖衬衫的侍者十分忙碌，为那些站在宽阔的金属柜台旁的游民懒汉调配饮料。
在酒店的另一端，一个身躯高大，体格健壮的人，侧身倚在柜台旁，一支雪茄从他嘴角斜伸出来形成一个锐角，这不是别人，正是大名鼎鼎的麦金蒂本人。他是一个黝黑的巨人，满脸络腮胡子，一头墨黑蓬乱的头发直披到他的衣领上。他的肤色象意大利人一样黝黑，他的双眼黑得惊人，轻蔑地斜视着，使外表显得格外阴险。
这个人品他的一切——他体形匀称，相貌不凡，性格坦率——都符合他所假装出来的那种快活、诚实的样子。人们会说，这是一个坦率诚实的人，他的心地忠实善良，不管他说起话来多么粗鲁。只有当他那双阴沉而残忍的乌黑眼睛对准一个人时，才使对方畏缩成一团，感到他面对着的是潜在的无限灾祸，灾祸后面还隐藏着实力、胆量和狡诈，使这种灾祸显得万分致命。
麦克默多仔细地打量了他要找的人，象平常一样，满不在乎，胆气逼人地挤上前去，推开那一小堆阿谀奉承的人，他们正在极力谄媚那个权势极大的首领，附和他说的最平淡的笑话，捧腹大笑。年轻的来客一双威武的灰色眼睛，透过眼镜无所畏惧地和那对严厉地望着他的乌黑的眼睛对视着。
“喂，年轻人。我想不起你是谁了。”
“我是新到这里的，麦金蒂先生。”
“你难道没有对一个绅士称呼他高贵头衔的习惯吗？”
“他是参议员麦金蒂先生，年轻人，"人群中一个声音说道。
“很抱歉，参议员。我不懂这地方的习惯。可是有人要我来见你。”
“噢，你是来见我的。我可是连头带脚全在这儿。你想我是怎样的一个人呢？”
“哦，现在下结论还早着哩，但愿你的心胸能象你的身体一样宏伟，你的灵魂能象你的面容一样善良，那么我就别无所求了，"麦克默多说道。
“哎呀，你竟有这样一个爱尔兰人的妙舌，"这个酒馆的主人大声说道，不能完全肯定究竟是在迁就这位大胆放肆的来客呢，还是在维护自己的尊严，“那你认为我的外表完全合格了。”
“当然了，"麦克默多说道。
“有人让你来见我？”
“是的。”
“谁告诉你的？”
“是维尔米萨三百四十一分会的斯坎伦兄弟。我祝你健康，参议员先生，并为我们友好的相识而干杯。"麦克默多拿起一杯酒，翘起小拇指，把它举到嘴边，一饮而尽。
麦金蒂仔细观察着麦克默多，扬其他那浓黑的双眉。
“噢，倒很象那么回事，是吗？"麦金蒂说道，“我还要再仔细考查一下，你叫……”
“麦克默多。”
“再仔细考查一下，麦克默多先生，因为我们这儿决不靠轻信收人，也决不完全相信人家对我们说的话。请随我到酒吧间后面去一下。”
两人走进一间小屋子，周围排满了酒桶。麦金蒂小心地关上门，坐在一个酒桶上，若有所思地咬着雪茄，一双眼睛骨碌碌地打量着对方，一言不发地坐了两分钟。
麦克默多笑眯眯地承受着麦金蒂的审视，一只手插在大衣口袋里，另一只手捻着他的褐色小胡子。麦金蒂突然弯下腰来，抽出一支样式吓人的手枪。
“喂，我的伙计，"麦金蒂说道，“假如我觉出你跟我们耍什么花招，这就是你的末日了。”
麦克默多庄重地回答道：“一位自由人分会的身主这样对待一个外来弟兄，这种欢迎可真少见。”
“喂，我正是要你拿出身份证明来呢，"麦金蒂说道，“要是你办不到，那就别见怪了。你在哪里入会的。”
“芝加哥第二十九分会。”
“什么时间？”
“一八七二年六月二十四日。”
“身主是谁？”
“詹姆斯•H•斯特科。”
“你们地区的议长是谁？”
“巴塞洛谬•威尔逊。”
“嗬！在这场考查中，你倒很能说善辩呀。你在那儿干什么？”
“象你一样，做工，不过是件穷差事罢了。”
“你回答得倒挺快啊。”
“是的，我总是对答如流的。”
“你办事也快吗？”
“认识我的人都晓得我有这个名片。”
“好，我们不久就要试试你，对于此地分会的情况，你听到了什么吗？”
“我听说它收好汉做弟兄。”
“你说的不错，麦克默多先生。你为什么离开芝加哥呢？”
“这事我不能告诉你。”
麦金蒂睁大眼睛，他从未听到过这样无礼的回答，不由感到有趣，问道：
“为什么你不愿告诉我呢？”
“因为弟兄们对自己人不说谎。”
“那么这事一定是不可告人的了。”
“如果你愿意，也可以这么说。”
“喂，先生，你不能指望我，作为一个身主，接受一个不能说出自己的履历的人入会啊。”
麦克默多现出为难的样子，然后从内衣口袋里掏出一片剪下来的旧报纸，说道：
“你不会向人泄漏吗？”
“你要是再对我说这种话，我就给你几记耳光。"麦金蒂发火地说。
“你是对的，参议员先生，"麦克默多温顺地说着，“我应当向你道歉。我是无意说出来的。好，我知道在你手下很安全。请看这剪报吧。”
麦金蒂粗略地看了一下这份报道：一八七四年一月上旬，在芝加哥市场街雷克酒店，一个叫乔纳斯•平托的被人杀害了。
“是你干的？"麦金蒂把剪报还回去，问道。
麦克默多点点头。
“你为什么杀死他？”
“我帮助山姆大叔私铸金币。也许我的金币成色没有他①的好，可是看起来也不错，而且铸起来便宜。这个叫平托的人帮我推销伪币……”
“做什么？”
“啊，就是说让伪币流通使用。后来他说他要告密。也许他真告过密，我毫不迟疑地杀死了他，就逃到这煤矿区来了。”
“为什么要逃到煤矿区来呢？”
“因为我在报上看到杀人犯在此地是不太引人注目的。”
麦金蒂笑道：①Uncle Sam美国政府的绰号。——译者注
“你先是一个铸造伪币犯，后是一个杀人犯，你到这里来，因为你想在这儿会受欢迎吧。”
“大体就是这么回事，"麦克默多答道。
“好，我看你前途无量。喂，你还能铸伪币吗？”
麦克默多从衣袋里掏出六个金币来，说道：“这就不是费城铸币厂制造的。”
“不见得吧！"麦金蒂伸出猩猩爪子一样毛茸茸的大手，把金币举到灯前细看，“我真看不出什么不同来！哎呀，我看你是一个大有作为的弟兄。麦克默多朋友，我们这伙子里没有一两个坏汉子不成，因为我们得保护自己呀。要是我们不把推我们的人猛推回去，那我们可要马上碰壁了。”
“好，我想我要和大家一起尽一份力量。”
“我看你很有胆量。在我把手枪对准你时，你却毫不畏缩。”
“那时危险的并不是我。”
“那么，是谁呢？”
“是你，参议员先生。"麦克默多从他粗呢上装口袋里掏出一支张开机头的手枪，说道，“我一直在瞄准你。我想我开起枪来是不会比你慢的。”
麦金蒂气得满脸通红，后来爆发出一阵大笑。
“哎呀！"他说道，“喂，多年没见象你这样可怕的家伙了。我想分会一定将以你为荣的……喂，你究竟要干什么？我不能单独和一位先生谈五分钟吗？为什么你非打扰我们不行呢？”
酒吧间的侍者惶惑地站在那里，报告说：“很抱歉，参议员先生。不过特德•鲍德温先生说他一定要在此刻见你。”
其实已用不着侍者通报了，因为这个人本人已经把他凶恶的面孔从仆役的肩上探进来。他一把推出侍者，把门关上。
“那么说，"他怒视了麦克默多一眼，说道，“你倒抢先到这儿来了？是不是？参议员先生，关于这个人，我有话对你说。”
“那就在这儿当着我的面说吧，"麦克默多大声说道。
“我什么时候说，怎么说，全由我。”
“啧，啧！"麦金蒂从酒桶上跳下来说道，“这样绝对不行。鲍德温，这儿来的是个新弟兄，我们不能这样欢迎他。伸出你的手来，朋友，和他讲和吧！”
“决不！"鲍德温暴怒地说道。
“假如他认为我冲撞了他，我建议和他决斗，"麦克默多说道，“可以徒手搏斗，他要不同意徒手干，随他选择什么办法都行。嗯，参议员先生，你是身主，就请你公断吧。”
“到底是怎么回事呢？”
“为一个年轻姑娘。她有选择情人的自由。”
“她可以这样做吗？"鲍德温叫道。
“既然要选的是我们分会里的两个弟兄，我说她可以这样做，"首领说道。
“啊，这就是你的公断，是不是？”
“对，是这样，特德•鲍德温，"麦金蒂恶狠狠地盯着他说道，“你还要争论么？”
“你为了袒护一个素昧平生的人，难道要抛弃一个五年来恩难与共的朋友吗？你不会一辈子都做身主的，杰克•麦金蒂，老天有眼，下一次再选举时……”
麦金蒂饿虎扑食一般扑到鲍德温身上，一只手掐住鲍德温的脖子，把他推到一只酒桶上去，要不是麦克默多阻拦，麦金蒂盛怒之下准会把鲍德温扼死的。
“慢着，参议员先生！看在上帝份上，别着急！"麦克默多把他拉回来。
麦金蒂松开手，鲍德温吓得奄奄一息，浑身颤抖，活象一个死里逃生的人，坐在他刚才撞着的酒桶上。
“特德•鲍德温，好多天来你就在自找这个。现在你总算满意了吧，"麦金蒂呼呼地喘着，大声叫道，“也许你以为我选不上身主，你就能取代我的地位。可是只要我是这里的首领，我决不让一个人提高嗓门反对我，违抗我的公断。”
“我并没有反对你啊，"鲍德温用手抚摸着咽喉，嘟嘟哝哝地说道。
“好，那么，"麦金蒂立刻装成很高兴的样子，高声说道，“大家又都是好朋友了，这事就算完了。”
麦金蒂从架子上取下一瓶香槟酒来，打开瓶塞。
“现在，"麦金蒂把酒倒满三只高脚杯，继续说道：“让我们大家为和好而干杯。从今以后，你们明白，我们不能互相记仇。现在，我的好朋友，特德•鲍德温，我是跟你说话呢，你还生气吗？先生。”
“阴云依然笼罩着。”
“不过即将永远光辉灿烂。”
“我发誓，但愿如此。”
他们饮了酒，鲍德温和麦克默多也照样客套了一番。
麦
Part 2 Chapter 3 Lodge 341, Vermissa
On the day following the evening which had contained so many exciting events, McMurdo moved his lodgings from old Jacob Shafter's and took up his quarters at the Widow MacNamara's on the extreme outskirts of the town. Scanlan, his original acquaintance aboard the train, had occasion shortly afterwards to move into Vermissa, and the two lodged together. There was no other boarder, and the hostess was an easy-going old Irishwoman who left them to themselves; so that they had a freedom for speech and action welcome to men who had secrets in common.
Shafter had relented to the extent of letting McMurdo come to his meals there when he liked; so that his intercourse with Ettie was by no means broken. On the contrary, it drew closer and more intimate as the weeks went by.
In his bedroom at his new abode McMurdo felt it safe to take out the coining moulds, and under many a pledge of secrecy a number of brothers from the lodge were allowed to come in and see them, each carrying away in his pocket some examples of the false money, so cunningly struck that there was never the slightest difficulty or danger in passing it. Why, with such a wonderful art at his command, McMurdo should condescend to work at all was a perpetual mystery to his companions; though he made it clear to anyone who asked him that if he lived without any visible means it would very quickly bring the police upon his track.
One policeman was indeed after him already; but the incident, as luck would have it, did the adventurer a great deal more good than harm. After the first introduction there were few evenings when he did not find his way to McGinty's saloon, there to make closer acquaintance with "the boys," which was the jovial title by which the dangerous gang who infested the place were known to one another. His dashing manner and fearlessness of speech made him a favourite with them all; while the rapid and scientific way in which he polished off his antagonist in an "all in" bar-room scrap earned the respect of that rough community. Another incident, however, raised him even higher in their estimation.
Just at the crowded hour one night, the door opened and a man entered with the quiet blue uniform and peaked cap of the mine police. This was a special body raised by the railways and colliery owners to supplement the efforts of the ordinary civil police, who were perfectly helpless in the face of the organized ruffianism which terrorized the district. There was a hush as he entered, and many a curious glance was cast at him; but the relations between policemen and criminals are peculiar in some parts of the States, and McGinty himself, standing behind his counter, showed no surprise when the policeman enrolled himself among his customers.
"A straight whisky; for the night is bitter," said the police officer. "I don't think we have met before, Councillor?"
"You'll be the new captain?" said McGinty.
"That's so. We're looking to you, Councillor, and to the other leading citizens, to help us in upholding law and order in this township. Captain Marvin is my name."
"We'd do better without you, Captain Marvin," said McGinty coldly; "for we have our own police of the township, and no need for any imported goods. What are you but the paid tool of the capitalists, hired by them to club or shoot your poorer fellow citizen?"
"Well, well, we won't argue about that," said the police officer good-humouredly. "I expect we all do our duty same as we see it; but we can't all see it the same." He had drunk off his glass and had turned to go, when his eyes fell upon the face of Jack McMurdo, who was scowling at his elbow. "Hullo! Hullo!" he cried, looking him up and down. "Here's an old acquaintance!"
McMurdo shrank away from him. "I was never a friend to you nor any other cursed copper in my life," said he.
"An acquaintance isn't always a friend," said the police captain, grinning. "You're Jack McMurdo of Chicago, right enough, and don't you deny it!"
McMurdo shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not denying it," said he. "D'ye think I'm ashamed of my own name?"
"You've got good cause to be, anyhow."
"What the devil d'you mean by that?" he roared with his fists clenched.
"No, no, Jack, bluster won't do with me. I was an officer in Chicago before ever I came to this darned coal bunker, and I know a Chicago crook when I see one."
McMurdo's face fell. "Don't tell me that you're Marvin of the Chicago Central!" he cried.
"Just the same old Teddy Marvin, at your service. We haven't forgotten the shooting of Jonas Pinto up there."
"I never shot him."
"Did you not? That's good impartial evidence, ain't it? Well, his death came in uncommon handy for you, or they would have had you for shoving the queer. Well, we can let that be bygones; for, between you and me--and perhaps I'm going further than my duty in saying it--they could get no clear case against you, and Chicago's open to you to-morrow."
"I'm very well where I am."
"Well, I've given you the pointer, and you're a sulky dog not to thank me for it."
"Well, I suppose you mean well, and I do thank you," said McMurdo in no very gracious manner.
"It's mum with me so long as I see you living on the straight," said the captain. "But, by the Lord! if you get off after this, it's another story! So good-night to you--and good-night, Councillor."
He left the bar-room; but not before he had created a local hero. McMurdo's deeds in far Chicago had been whispered before. He had put off all questions with a smile, as one who did not wish to have greatness thrust upon him. But now the thing was officially confirmed. The bar loafers crowded round him and shook him heartily by the hand. He was free of the community from that time on. He could drink hard and show little trace of it; but that evening, had his mate Scanlan not been at hand to lead him home, the feted hero would surely have spent his night under the bar.
On a Saturday night McMurdo was introduced to the lodge. He had thought to pass in without ceremony as being an initiate of Chicago; but there were particular rites in Vermissa of which they were proud, and these had to be undergone by every postulant. The assembly met in a large room reserved for such purposes at the Union House. Some sixty members assembled at Vermissa; but that by no means represented the full strength of the organization, for there were several other lodges in the valley, and others across the mountains on each side, who exchanged members when any serious business was afoot, so that a crime might be done by men who were strangers to the locality. Altogether there were not less than five hundred scattered over the coal district.
In the bare assembly room the men were gathered round a long table. At the side was a second one laden with bottles and glasses, on which some members of the company were already turning their eyes. McGinty sat at the head with a flat black velvet cap upon his shock of tangled black hair, and a coloured purple stole round his neck, so that he seemed to be a priest presiding over some diabolical ritual. To right and left of him were the higher lodge officials, the cruel, handsome face of Ted Baldwin among them. Each of these wore some scarf or medallion as emblem of his office.
They were, for the most part, men of mature age; but the rest of the company consisted of young fellows from eighteen to twenty-five, the ready and capable agents who carried out the commands of their seniors. Among the older men were many whose features showed the tigerish, lawless souls within; but looking at the rank and file it was difficult to believe that these eager and open-faced young fellows were in very truth a dangerous gang of murderers, whose minds had suffered such complete moral perversion that they took a horrible pride in their proficiency at the business, and looked with deepest respect at the man who had the reputation of making what they called "a clean job."
To their contorted natures it had become a spirited and chivalrous thing to volunteer for service against some man who had never injured them, and whom in many cases they had never seen in their lives. The crime committed, they quarrelled as to who had actually struck the fatal blow, and amused one another and the company by describing the cries and contortions of the murdered man.
At first they had shown some secrecy in their arrangements; but at the time which this narrative describes their proceedings were extraordinarily open, for the repeated failure of the law had proved to them that, on the one hand, no one would dare to witness against them, and on the other they had an unlimited number of stanch witnesses upon whom they could call, and a well-filled treasure chest from which they could draw the funds to engage the best legal talent in the state. In ten long years of outrage there had been no single conviction, and the only danger that ever threatened the Scowrers lay in the victim himself--who, however outnumbered and taken by surprise, might and occasionally did leave his mark upon his assailants.
McMurdo had been warned that some ordeal lay before him; but no one would tell him in what it consisted. He was led now into an outer room by two solemn brothers. Through the plank partition he could hear the murmur of many voices from the assembly within. Once or twice he caught the sound of his own name, and he knew that they were discussing his candidacy. Then there entered an inner guard with a green and gold sash across his chest.
"The Bodymaster orders that he shall be trussed, blinded, and entered," said he.
The three of them removed his coat, turned up the sleeve of his right arm, and finally passed a rope round above the elbows and made it fast. They next placed a thick black cap right over his head and the upper part of his face, so that he could see nothing. He was then led into the assembly hall.
It was pitch dark and very oppressive under his hood. He heard the rustle and murmur of the people round him, and then the voice of McGinty sounded dull and distant through the covering of his ears.
"John McMurdo," said the voice, "are you already a member of the Ancient Order of Freemen?"
He bowed in assent.
"Is your lodge No. 29, Chicago?"
He bowed again.
"Dark nights are unpleasant," said the voice.
"Yes, for strangers to travel," he answered.
"The clouds are heavy."
"Yes, a storm is approaching."
"Are the brethren satisfied?" asked the Bodymaster.
There was a general murmur of assent.
"We know, Brother, by your sign and by your countersign that you are indeed one of us," said McGinty. "We would have you know, however, that in this county and in other counties of these parts we have certain rites, and also certain duties of our own which call for good men. Are you ready to be tested?"
"I am."
"Are you of stout heart?"
"I am."
"Take a stride forward to prove it."
As the words were said he felt two hard points in front of his eyes, pressing upon them so that it appeared as if he could not move forward without a danger of losing them. None the less, he nerved himself to step resolutely out, and as he did so the pressure melted away. There was a low murmur of applause.
"He is of stout heart," said the voice. "Can you bear pain?"
"As well as another," he answered.
"Test him!"
It was all he could do to keep himself from screaming out, for an agonizing pain shot through his forearm. He nearly fainted at the sudden shock of it; but he bit his lip and clenched his hands to hide his agony.
"I can take more than that," said he.
This time there was loud applause. A finer first appearance had never been made in the lodge. Hands clapped him on the back, and the hood was plucked from his head. He stood blinking and smiling amid the congratulations of the brothers.
"One last word, Brother McMurdo," said McGinty. "You have already sworn the oath of secrecy and fidelity, and you are aware that the punishment for any breach of it is instant and inevitable death?"
"I am," said McMurdo.
"And you accept the rule of the Bodymaster for the time being under all circumstances?"
"I do."
"Then in the name of Lodge 341, Vermissa, I welcome you to its privileges and debates. You will put the liquor on the table, Brother Scanlan, and we will drink to our worthy brother."
McMurdo's coat had been brought to him; but before putting it on he examined his right arm, which still smarted heavily. There on the flesh of the forearm was a circle with a triangle within it, deep and red, as the branding iron had left it. One or two of his neighbours pulled up their sleeves and showed their own lodge marks.
"We've all had it," said one; "but not all as brave as you over it."
"Tut! It was nothing," said he; but it burned and ached all the same.
When the drinks which followed the ceremony of initiation had all been disposed of, the business of the lodge proceeded. McMurdo, accustomed only to the prosaic performances of Chicago, listened with open ears and more surprise than he ventured to show to what followed.
"The first business on the agenda paper," said McGinty, "is to read the following letter from Division Master Windle of Merton County Lodge 249. He says:
"Dear Sir:
"There is a job to be done on Andrew Rae of Rae & Sturmash, coal owners near this place. You will remember that your lodge owes us a return, having had the service of two brethren in the matter of the patrolman last fall. You will send two good men, they will be taken charge of by Treasurer Higgins of this lodge, whose address you know. He will show them when to act and where. Yours in freedom, "J.W. WINDLE D.M.A.O.F.
"Windle has never refused us when we have had occasion to ask for the loan of a man or two, and it is not for us to refuse him." McGinty paused and looked round the room with his dull, malevolent eyes. "Who will volunteer for the job?"
Several young fellows held up their hands. The Bodymaster looked at them with an approving smile.
"You'll do, Tiger Cormac. If you handle it as well as you did the last, you won't be wrong. And you, Wilson."
"I've no pistol," said the volunteer, a mere boy in his teens.
"It's your first, is it not? Well, you have to be blooded some time. It will be a great start for you. As to the pistol, you'll find it waiting for you, or I'm mistaken. If you report yourselves on Monday, it will be time enough. You'll get a great welcome when you return."
"Any reward this time?" asked Cormac, a thick-set, dark-faced, brutal-looking young man, whose ferocity had earned him the nickname of "Tiger."
"Never mind the reward. You just do it for the honour of the thing. Maybe when it is done there will be a few odd dollars at the bottom of the box."
"What has the man done?" asked young Wilson.
"Sure, it's not for the likes of you to ask what the man has done. He has been judged over there. That's no business of ours. All we have to do is to carry it out for them, same as they would for us. Speaking of that, two brothers from the Merton lodge are coming over to us next week to do some business in this quarter."
"Who are they?" asked someone.
"Faith, it is wiser not to ask. If you know nothing, you can testify nothing, and no trouble can come of it. But they are men who will make a clean job when they are about it."
"And time, too!" cried Ted Baldwin. "Folk are gettin' out of hand in these parts. It was only last week that three of our men were turned off by Foreman Blaker. It's been owing him a long time, and he'll get it full and proper."
"Get what?" McMurdo whispered to his neighbour.
"The business end of a buckshot cartridge!" cried the man with a loud laugh. "What think you of our ways, Brother?"
McMurdo's criminal soul seemed to have already absorbed the spirit of the vile association of which he was now a member. "I like it well," said he. "'Tis a proper place for a lad of mettle."
Several of those who sat around heard his words and applauded them.
"What's that?" cried the black-maned Bodymaster from the end of the table.
"'Tis our new brother, sir, who finds our ways to his taste."
McMurdo rose to his feet for an instant. "I would say, Eminent Bodymaster, that if a man should be wanted I should take it as an honour to be chosen to help the lodge."
There was great applause at this. It was felt that a new sun was pushing its rim above the horizon. To some of the elders it seemed that the progress was a little too rapid.
"I would move," said the secretary, Harraway, a vulture-faced old graybeard who sat near the chairman, "that Brother McMurdo should wait until it is the good pleasure of the lodge to employ him."
"Sure, that was what I meant; I'm in your hands," said McMurdo.
"Your time will come, Brother," said the chairman. "We have marked you down as a willing man, and we believe that you will do good work in these parts. There is a small matter to-night in which you may take a hand if it so please you."
"I will wait for something that is worth while."
"You can come to-night, anyhow, and it will help you to know what we stand for in this community. I will make the announcement later. Meanwhile," he glanced at his agenda paper, "I have one or two more points to bring before the meeting. First of all, I will ask the treasurer as to our bank balance. There is the pension to Jim Carnaway's widow. He was struck down doing the work of the lodge, and it is for us to see that she is not the loser."
"Jim was shot last month when they tried to kill Chester Wilcox of Marley Creek," McMurdo's neighbour informed him.
"The funds are good at the moment," said the treasurer, with the bankbook in front of him. "The firms have been generous of late. Max Linder & Co. paid five hundred to be left alone. Walker Brothers sent in a hundred; but I took it on myself to return it and ask for five. If I do not hear by Wednesday, their winding gear may get out of order. We had to burn their breaker last year before they became reasonable. Then the West Section Coaling Company has paid its annual contribution. We have enough on hand to meet any obligations."
"What about Archie Swindon?" asked a brother.
"He has sold out and left the district. The old devil left a note for us to say that he had rather be a free crossing sweeper in New York than a large mine owner under the power of a ring of blackmailers. By Gar! it was as well that he made a break for it before the note reached us! I guess he won't show his face in this valley again."
An elderly, clean-shaved man with a kindly face and a good brow rose from the end of the table which faced the chairman. "Mr. Treasurer," he asked, "may I ask who has bought the property of this man that we have driven out of the district?"
"Yes, Brother Morris. It has been bought by the State & Merton County Railroad Company."
"And who bought the mines of Todman and of Lee that came into the market in the same way last year?"
"The same company, Brother Morris."
"And who bought the ironworks of Manson and of Shuman and of Van Deher and of Atwood, which have all been given up of late?"
"They were all bought by the West Gilmerton General Mining Company."
"I don't see, Brother Morris," said the chairman, "that it matters to us who buys them, since they can't carry them out of the district."
"With all respect to you, Eminent Bodymaster, I think it may matter very much to us. This process has been going on now for ten long years. We are gradually driving all the small men out of trade. What is the result? We find in their places great companies like the Railroad or the General Iron, who have their directors in New York or Philadelphia, and care nothing for our threats. We can take it out of their local bosses; but it only means that others will be sent in their stead. And we are making it dangerous for ourselves. The small men could not harm us. They had not the money nor the power. So long as we did not squeeze them too dry, they would stay on under our power. But if these big companies find that we stand between them and their profits, they will spare no pains and no expense to hunt us down and bring us to court."
There was a hush at these ominous words, and every face darkened as gloomy looks were exchanged. So omnipotent and unchallenged had they been that the very thought that there was possible retribution in the background had been banished from their minds. And yet the idea struck a chill to the most reckless of them.
"It is my advice," the speaker continued, "that we go easier upon the small men. On the day that they have all been driven out the power of this society will have been broken."
Unwelcome truths are not popular. There were angry cries as the speaker resumed his seat. McGinty rose with gloom upon his brow.
"Brother Morris," said he, "you were always a croaker. So long as the members of this lodge stand together there is no power in the United States that can touch them. Sure, have we not tried it often enough in the lawcourts? I expect the big companies will find it easier to pay than to fight, same as the little companies do. And now, Brethren," McGinty took off his black velvet cap and his stole as he spoke, "this lodge has finished its business for the evening, save for one small matter which may be mentioned when we are parting. The time has now come for fraternal refreshment and for harmony."
Strange indeed is human nature. Here were these men, to whom murder was familiar, who again and again had struck down the father of the family, some man against whom they had no personal feeling, without one thought of compunction or of compassion for his weeping wife or helpless children, and yet the tender or pathetic in music could move them to tears. McMurdo had a fine tenor voice, and if he had failed to gain the good will of the lodge before, it could no longer have been withheld after he had thrilled them with "I'm Sitting on the Stile, Mary," and "On the Banks of Allan Water."
In his very first night the new recruit had made himself one of the most popular of the brethren, marked already for advancement and high office. There were other qualities needed, however, besides those of good fellowship, to make a worthy Freeman, and of these he was given an example before the evening was over. The whisky bottle had passed round many times, and the men were flushed and ripe for mischief when their Bodymaster rose once more to address them.
"Boys," said he, "there's one man in this town that wants trimming up, and it's for you to see that he gets it. I'm speaking of James Stanger of the Herald. You've seen how he's been opening his mouth against us again?"
There was a murmur of assent, with many a muttered oath. McGinty took a slip of paper from his waistcoat pocket.
"LAW AND ORDER!
That's how he heads it.
"REIGN OF TERROR IN THE COAL AND IRON DISTRICT
"Twelve years have now elapsed since the first assassinations which proved the existence of a criminal organization in our midst. From that day these outrages have never ceased, until now they have reached a pitch which makes us the opprobrium of the civilized world. Is it for such results as this that our great country welcomes to its bosom the alien who flies from the despotisms of Europe? Is it that they shall themselves become tyrants over the very men who have given them shelter, and that a state of terrorism and lawlessness should be established under the very shadow of the sacred folds of the starry Flag of Freedom which would raise horror in our minds if we read of it as existing under the most effete monarchy of the East? The men are known. The organization is patent and public. How long are we to endure it? Can we forever live--
Sure, I've read enough of the slush!" cried the chairman, tossing the paper down upon the table. "That's what he says of us. The question I'm asking you is what shall we say to him?"
"Kill him!" cried a dozen fierce voices.
"I protest against that," said Brother Morris, the man of the good brow and shaved face. "I tell you, Brethren, that our hand is too heavy in this valley, and that there will come a point where in self-defense every man will unite to crush us out. James Stanger is an old man. He is respected in the township and the district. His paper stands for all that is solid in the valley. If that man is struck down, there will be a stir through this state that will only end with our destruction."
"And how would they bring about our destruction, Mr. Standback?" cried McGinty. "Is it by the police? Sure, half of them are in our pay and half of them afraid of us. Or is it by the law courts and the judge? Haven't we tried that before now, and what ever came of it?"
"There is a Judge Lynch that might try the case," said Brother Morris.
A general shout of anger greeted the suggestion.
"I have but to raise my finger," cried McGinty, "and I could put two hundred men into this town that would clear it out from end to end." Then suddenly raising his voice and bending his huge black brows into a terrible frown, "See here, Brother Morris, I have my eye on you, and have had for some time! You've no heart yourself, and you try to take the heart out of others. It will be an ill day for you, Brother Morris, when your own name comes on our agenda paper, and I'm thinking that it's just there that I ought to place it."
Morris had turned deadly pale, and his knees seemed to give way under him as he fell back into his chair. He raised his glass in his trembling hand and drank before he could answer. "I apologize, Eminent Bodymaster, to you and to every brother in this lodge if I have said more than I should. I am a faithful member--you all know that--and it is my fear lest evil come to the lodge which makes me speak in anxious words. But I have greater trust in your judgment than in my own, Eminent Bodymaster, and I promise you that I will not offend again."
The Bodymaster's scowl relaxed as he listened to the humble words. "Very good, Brother Morris. It's myself that would be sorry if it were needful to give you a lesson. But so long as I am in this chair we shall be a united lodge in word and in deed. And now, boys," he continued, looking round at the company, "I'll say this much, that if Stanger got his full deserts there would be more trouble than we need ask for. These editors hang together, and every journal in the state would be crying out for police and troops. But I guess you can give him a pretty severe warning. Will you fix it, Brother Baldwin?"
"Sure!" said the young man eagerly.
"How many will you take?"
"Half a dozen, and two to guard the door. You'll come, Gower, and you, Mansel, and you, Scanlan, and the two Willabys."
"I promised the new brother he should go," said the chairman.
Ted Baldwin looked at McMurdo with eyes which showed that he had not forgotten nor forgiven. "Well, he can come if he wants," he said in a surly voice. "That's enough. The sooner we get to work the better."
The company broke up with shouts and yells and snatches of drunken song. The bar was still crowded with revellers, and many of the brethren remained there. The little band who had been told off for duty passed out into the street, proceeding in twos and threes along the sidewalk so as not to provoke attention. It was a bitterly cold night, with a half-moon shining brilliantly in a frosty, star-spangled sky. The men stopped and gathered in a yard which faced a high building. The words, "Vermissa Herald" were printed in gold lettering between the brightly lit windows. From within came the clanking of the printing press.
"Here, you," said Baldwin to McMurdo, "you can stand below at the door and see that the road is kept open for us. Arthur Willaby can stay with you. You others come with me. Have no fears, boys; for we have a dozen witnesses that we are in the Union Bar at this very moment."
It was nearly midnight, and the street was deserted save for one or two revellers upon their way home. The party crossed the road, and, pushing open the door of the newspaper office, Baldwin and his men rushed in and up the stair which faced them. McMurdo and another remained below. From the room above came a shout, a cry for help, and then the sound of trampling feet and of falling chairs. An instant later a gray-haired man rushed out on the landing.
He was seized before he could get farther, and his spectacles came tinkling down to McMurdo's feet. There was a thud and a groan. He was on his face, and half a dozen sticks were clattering together as they fell upon him. He writhed, and his long, thin limbs quivered under the blows. The others ceased at last; but Baldwin, his cruel face set in an infernal smile, was hacking at the man's head, which he vainly endeavoured to defend with his arms. His white hair was dabbled with patches of blood. Baldwin was still stooping over his victim, putting in a short, vicious blow whenever he could see a part exposed, when McMurdo dashed up the stair and pushed him back.
"You'll kill the man," said he. "Drop it!"
Baldwin looked at him in amazement. "Curse you!" he cried. "Who are you to interfere--you that are new to the lodge? Stand back!" He raised his stick; but McMurdo had whipped his pistol out of his pocket.
"Stand back yourself!" he cried. "I'll blow your face in if you lay a hand on me. As to the lodge, wasn't it the order of the Bodymaster that the man was not to be killed--and what are you doing but killing him?"
"It's truth he says," remarked one of the men.
"By Gar! you'd best hurry yourselves!" cried the man below. "The windows are all lighting up, and you'll have the whole town here inside of five minutes."
There was indeed the sound of shouting in the street, and a little group of compositors and pressmen was forming in the hall below and nerving itself to action. Leaving the limp and motionless body of the editor at the head of the stair, the criminals rushed down and made their way swiftly along the street. Having reached the Union House, some of them mixed with the crowd in McGinty's saloon, whispering across the bar to the Boss that the job had been well carried through. Others, and among them McMurdo, broke away into side streets, and so by devious paths to their own homes.
这天晚上发生了那么多激动人心的事件，到了第二天，麦克默多便从雅各布•谢夫特老人家里搬到镇子最尽头处寡妇麦克娜玛拉家中去住。他最早在火车上结交的朋友斯坎伦，不久也不约而同地搬到维尔米萨来了，两个人遂同住在一起。这里没有别的房客，女房东是一个很随和的爱尔兰老妇人，一点也不干涉他们的事。所以他们的言语、行动都很自由，这对于同怀隐私的这两个人可真是再好不过了。
谢夫特对麦克默多挺厚道，他高兴的时候，就请麦克默多到他家吃饭，所以，麦克默多和伊蒂的来往并没有中断。恰恰相反，一星期一星期地过去，他们的来往反而更频繁更亲密。
麦克默多觉得他的新居很安全，便把他铸伪币的模子搬到卧室中开起工来，而在保证绝不泄密的条件下，分会中的一些弟兄们就前来观看。在每个弟兄离开时，口袋里都装上一些伪币，这些伪币铸造得那么精巧，使用出去从来毫不费难，而且绝无危险。麦克默多有了这件绝技，却还要屈身去做工，这在他的会友看来实在是不解之谜。可是麦克默多对每一个问到他的人都说明，如果自己没有任何明摆着的收入，那警察很快就会来盘查他的。
一个警察确实已经盯上了麦克默多，不过这件枝节小事，巧得很，不仅没有给这位冒险家带来丝毫损害，反而使他声誉大振。自从第一天介绍他和弟兄们相见以后 ，麦克默多几乎每晚都设法到麦金蒂的酒馆里去，在那里更亲近地结识"哥儿们"，谁都知道，这是对那些出没此地的一伙危险人物的尊称。麦克默多刚毅果敢的性格和无所顾忌的言谈，早就博得全体兄弟们的喜爱。有一次，麦克默多在酒吧间的一场"自由式"拳击赛中迅速而技巧熟练地打败了对手，这又赢得了这些粗野之辈极大的尊敬。然而，另一件小事，使麦克默多在众人中更加提高了声望。
一天晚上，人们正在欢呼畅饮，忽然门开了，走进一个人来，身穿一套朴素的蓝制服，头戴一顶煤铁矿警察的尖顶帽子。因为矿区内，到处是一片恐怖，不断发生有组织的暴行，面对这种情况，普通警察完全束手无策。铁路局和矿主们便招募人员组成煤铁矿警察这一特别机构，用以补充普通警察的不足。这个警察一进门，大家顿时安静下来，许多人好奇地看着他。不过在美国各州，警察和罪犯之间的关系是很特殊的，因此，麦金蒂站在柜台后面，对这个警察混在他的顾客中，毫不感到惊奇。
“今晚天气太冷了，来点纯威士忌酒，"警官说道，“参议员先生，我们以前没见过面吧？”
“你是新来的队长吗？"麦金蒂问道。
“不错，我们是来拜访你的，参议员先生，还有其他的首领，请你们协助我们在本镇维护法律。我的名字叫马文，是煤铁矿警察队长。”
“我们这里很好，用不着你们来维持，马文队长，"麦金蒂冷冷地说道，“我们镇上有自己的警察，用不着什么进口货。你们不过是资本家花钱雇来的爪牙，除了用棍棒或枪支来对付穷苦老百姓之外．还能干什么？”
“好，好，我们不用争论这个，"警官和平地说道，“希望我们大家都各按己见同样尽自己的责任。不过我们的看法还不能完全一致。"他喝完了酒，转身要走，忽然眼光落到杰克•麦克默多的脸上，麦克默多正站在近处怒视着他。
“喂！喂！"马文队长上下打量了麦克默多一番，大声喊道，
“这里有一个老相识了。”
麦克默多从他身旁走开，说道：“我生来就没有和你交过朋友，也没有和什么别的万恶的警察做过朋友。”
“一个相识往往不是一个朋友，"警察队长咧嘴笑道，"你是芝加哥的杰克•麦克默多，一点也不错，你不要抵赖。”
麦克默多耸了耸肩膀。
“我用不着抵赖，"麦克默多说道，“你以为我为自己的名字感到羞愧么？”
“不管怎样，你干了些好事！”
“你说这话究竟是什么意思？"麦克默多握紧拳头，怒吼道。
“不，不，杰克，你不要对我这么怒气冲冲。我到这该死的煤矿以前，是芝加哥的一个警官，芝加哥的恶棍无赖，我一看就认识。”
麦克默多把脸沉下来，喝道：“用不着告诉我你是芝加哥警察总署的马文！”
“正是这同一个老特德•马文听候您的吩咐。我们还没有忘记那里发生过枪杀乔纳斯•平托的事。”
“我没有枪杀他。”
“你没有吗？那不是有确凿的证据吗？好，那人一死对你可有很大好处，不然，他们早就因使用伪币罪把你逮捕入狱了。得了，我们可以让这些事过去吧。因为，这只有你知我知，——也许我说得过头了，说了些份外的事——他们找不到对你不利的有力事实，明天芝加哥的大门就又为你敞开了。”
“我随便住在哪儿都可以。”
“喂，我给你透露了消息，可是你却象一条发怒的狗一样，也不知道谢我一声。”
“好，我想你也许是出于好意，我真应该感谢你。"麦克默多不十分恭敬地说道。
“只要你老老实实做人，我就不声张出去，"警察队长说道，“可是，皇天在上，如果以后你不走正道，那就另当别论了！祝你晚安，也祝你晚安，参议员先生。”
马文离开了酒吧间，这事不久就使麦克默多成了当地的英雄，因为人们早就暗中议论过麦克默多在遥远的芝加哥的事迹了。麦克默多平常对人们的询问总是一笑置之，就好象怕人家硬给自己加上伟大的英名似的。可是现在这件事被正式证实了。酒吧间里那些无业游民都向麦克默多聚拢来，亲切地和他握手。从此以后，麦克默多在这帮人中便无所顾忌了。他酒量很大，而且不显酒意，可是，那晚要不是斯坎伦搀扶他回家，这位颇负盛誉的英雄就只好在酒吧间里过夜了。
星期六晚上，麦克默多被介绍入会。他以为自己是芝加哥的老会员，不需要举行什么仪式就可以通过了。可是维尔米萨却有它引以自豪的特殊仪式，而每一个申请入会的人都要经受这种仪式。集会是在工会楼里一间专供举行此种仪式的宽大房间里进行的，维尔米萨有六十多个人麇集在这里，但这决不是此地的全体会员，因为山谷中还有一些它们的分会，在山谷两边的山上也还有一些分会。在干重大营生时，便互相交换人员，所以，一些犯罪作恶的事就可以由当地不认识的人去做。总共有不下五百名会员散布在整个煤矿区。
在空旷的会议室里，人们围在一张长桌周围。旁边另一张桌子上摆满了酒瓶子和玻璃杯，一些会员已经垂涎欲滴地望着它们。麦金蒂坐在首席，蓬乱的黑发上戴着一顶平顶黑绒帽，脖子上围着一条主教举行仪式用的圣带，因此，他仿佛是一个主持恶魔仪典的祭司。麦金蒂左右两旁是会中居于高位的人，其中就有生性凶残而面貌俊秀的特德•鲍德温。他们每个人都戴着绶带或是徽章，表明他们的职位。他们大都是中年人，其余的都是十八岁到二十五岁的青年，只要长者发出命令，他们就心甘情愿竭尽全力地去干。长者中许多人从面貌上可以看出是些生性凶残、无法无天的人。不过仅从那些普通成员来看，很难使人相信，这些热情、坦荡的年轻人确实是一伙杀人不眨眼的凶手。他们道德败坏到了极点，把干坏事的本领引以为荣，并且异常崇拜那些所谓"干得利落"的出名人物。
由于具有这种变态的性格，他们主动去杀害那些从未得罪过他们的人；在许多情况下，还有那些素不相识的人，并把这当做勇敢而又侠义的事情。而在做案之后，他们还互相争论到底是谁打得最致命，并且争相描述被害人的惨叫声和身体受痛的扭曲形状，引以为乐。
起初，在他们安排做恶事时，还有点保密，可是在他们讲这些事时，就破例把这些罪恶行径公开了。因为法律在他们身上屡次失效，这就使他们觉得，一方面，没有一个人敢于出面作证控告他们，另一方面，他们有无数随叫随到的可靠的假证人，有满仓的金银财宝可以用来聘请州内最有才干的律师作辩护人。十年来，他们为非作歹，无所顾忌，但没有一个人被定罪。而威胁着死酷党人的唯一危险，还是来自他们的受害者，因为尽管受害者寡不敌众或受到突然袭击，但他们可以而且有时确实给匪徒们以深刻的教训。
有人警告过麦克默多，说严峻考验就摆在他面前，可是没有一个人告诉他是什么考验。现在他被两个面容严肃的弟兄引到外室。通过隔板墙，他可以模糊地听到里面与会者的七嘴八舌的声音。有一两次提到他的名字，麦克默多知道大家正在讨论他的入会问题。后来走进一个斜挎着黄绿二色肩带的内部警卫，说道：“身主有令，他应当被缚住双臂，蒙住双眼领进来。”
他们三个人便将麦克默多的外衣脱下，把他右臂的衣袖卷起来，用一条绳子迅速地把他双肘捆住。然后又把一顶厚厚的黑帽子扣到他的头上，把脸的上半部也盖住了，所以麦克默多什么也看不见了。最后他被引入集会厅。
罩上帽子以后，麦克默多只觉一片漆黑，十分难耐。他只听到一片沙沙声和周围人们的低语声，后来透过他双耳上蒙着的东西，他又隐约模糊地听到麦金蒂的声音：“约翰•麦克默多，你是自由人会的老会员吗？”
麦克默多点头表示同意。
“你是属于芝加哥第二十九分会吗？”
麦克默多又点了点头。
“黑夜是不愉快的，"对方说道。
“是的，对旅行的异乡人，黑夜是不愉快的，"麦克默多答道。
“阴云密布。”
“对，暴风雨即将来临。”
“众位弟兄们可满意吗？"身主问道。
传来一阵赞同的低语声。
“兄弟，根据你的暗语和对答，我们知道你确实是一个自己人，"麦金蒂说道，“不过我们要让你知道在本县和外县，我们有一定的仪式，一定的责任。你准备试一试吗？”
“我准备好了。”
“你是一个坚定勇敢的人吗？”
“对。”
“请你向前迈一大步来证明它。”
这句话说完，麦克默多感到有两个尖锐的东西直抵在双目上，因此，这就形成一种局面，如果他向前迈步，那么就有失去双目的危险。但麦克默多依然鼓起勇气坚定地向前大步走去，于是那压在眼上的东西退缩开了，传来了一阵低低的喝彩声。
“他是一个坚定勇敢的人，"那个声音说道，“你能忍受苦痛吗？”
“象其他人一样能够，"麦克默多答道。
“试试他！”
麦克默多感觉前臂一阵难以忍受的刺痛，他竭力不使自己叫出声来。这种突然的冲击几乎使他昏厥过去，但他咬紧嘴唇，握紧双手，掩盖他的极度痛苦。
“比这再厉害些我也能忍受，"麦克默多说道。
这次获得了一起高声的喝彩。一个初来的人获得如此好评，在这个分会中还是从未有过的。大家过来拍拍他的后背，接着罩在头上的帽子也摘掉了。他在弟兄们一片祝贺声中，眨眨眼微笑着站在那里。
“还有最后一句话，麦克默多兄弟，"麦金蒂说道，“你既已宣誓效忠本会并保守秘密，你当然知道，对誓言的任何违背，其惩罚都是格杀勿论啊。”
“我知道，"麦克默多说道。
“那么你在任何情况下，都接受身主的管辖么？”
“我接受。”
“那么我代表维尔米萨三百四十一分会，欢迎你入会，享有本会特权，参与本会辩论。斯坎伦兄弟，你可以把酒摆在桌上，我们要为这位名不虚传的的兄弟痛饮一杯！”
人们已经把外衣拿给麦克默多，但麦克默多在穿上外衣以前，看了看自己的右臂，那时右臂仍然如针扎一样疼痛。前臂上烙有一个圆圈，里面套个三角形，烙印深而发红，象是烙铁留下的痕迹。他身旁的一两个人卷起了袖子，让他看他们自己的分会标记。
“我们大家都有这种标记，"一个人说道，“不过不是都象你这样勇敢地对待它的。”
“唉，没什么，"麦克默多说道，可是臂上依然火烧火燎地疼痛。
当入会仪式结束，而酒也喝光了以后，开始讨论会中事务。麦克默多习惯于芝加哥那种无聊的场合，便注意倾听，愈听愈感到惊奇。
“议事日程的第一件事是，"麦金蒂说道，“读一封从默顿县第二百四十九分会身主温德尔那里来的信。他说：
‘亲爱的先生：
有必要消灭我们邻区雷和斯特玛施煤矿的矿主安德鲁•雷。你们总记得去年秋季你们和警察发生纠葛，我们曾派两个弟兄去帮忙的事。请你们派两个得力的人前来，他们将由分会司库希金斯负责接待，你知道他的地址，希金斯会告诉他们在什么时间什么地点行事。
你的朋友　J．W．温德尔'
“我们有事要求借用一两个人的时候，温德尔从来未拒绝过我们，照理我们也不能拒绝他，"麦金蒂停顿了一下，他那阴沉、恶毒的双眼向室内四下打量了一番，问道，“谁自愿前往？”
几个年轻人举起手来。身主看着他们，赞同地笑了。
“你可以去，老虎科马克。如果你能干得象上次那样好，那你就不会出差错。还有你，威尔逊。”
“我没有手枪，"这个十几岁的孩子说道。
“你这是第一次，是不是？好，你迟早总是要取得经验的，这是一个很好的开端。至于手枪，你会发现，手枪是在等着你的，不然就是我弄错了。如果你们在星期一报到，时间尽够了。你们回来时，一定会受到热烈欢迎。”
“这次可有报酬吗？"科马克问道，他是一个体格结实、面孔黝黑、面貌狰狞的年轻人，由于他的凶狠残暴，使他赢得了“老虎"的绰号。
“不用担心报酬。你们仅是出于荣誉去做这件事。事成后，也许有一点零头给你们。”
“那个人究竟有什么罪呢？"年轻的威尔逊问道。
“当然，那个人究竟有什么罪，这不是象你这样的人应当问的。他们那里已经对他作出了判决，那就不关我们的事了。我们所要做的只是替他们去执行而已。他们也会照样来替我们行事的。说起这个，下星期默顿分会就有两个弟兄到我们这里来行事。”
“他们是谁呢？"一个人问道。
“你最好不要问。如果你什么也不知道，你可以作证说什么也不知道，就不会招来什么麻烦。不过他们是那些干起事来很利落的人。”
“还有！"特德•鲍德温叫道，“有些事该了结一下。就在上星期，我们的三个弟兄被工头布莱克解雇了。早就应该给他教训了，他早就应该领受这个教训了。”
“领受什么？"麦克默多低声向邻座的人问道。
“给他一颗大号子弹完事！"那人大笑起来，高声说道，“你认为我们的办法怎样？兄弟。”
麦克默多现在已经是这个无恶不作的社团中的一分子，他的灵魂似乎已被这种精神所同化。
“我很喜欢它，"麦克默多说道，“这正是英雄少年用武之地啊！”
四周听到麦克默多讲话的人大加称赞。
“怎么回事？"坐在桌子那一端的黑大汉身主问道。
“先生，我们新来的弟兄，认为我们的办法很合他的口味。”
麦克默多马上站起来说道：
“我敢说，尊敬的身主，如果有用人的地方，我当以能为本会出力为荣。”
大家都对此高声喝彩，好象一轮朝日从地平线上升起。可是对一些年长的会员来说，这种成就似乎是太快了点。
“我提议，"一个灰白胡须的老人，长得面如鹫鹰，坐在身主的旁边，这就是书记哈拉威，他说道，“麦克默多兄弟应该等待，分会是很高兴使用他的。”
“当然，我也这样想，我一定遵命。"麦克默多说。
“兄弟，不久就会用到你的，"身主说，“我们已经知道你是一个情愿出力的人，我们也深信你在这地方会干得出色。今夜有一件小事，如果你愿意的话，你可以出一臂之力。”
“我愿等待更有价值的机会。”
“不管怎样，今夜你可以去，这可以帮助你了解我们团体主张什么。以后我还要宣布这主张。同时，"他看了看议事日程，说道，“我还有一两件事要在会上讲。第一点，我要问司库我们银行的结存情况。应该给吉姆•卡纳威的寡启发抚恤金。卡纳威是因公殉身的，把她照顾好是我们的责任。”
“吉姆是在上个月去谋刺马利克里克的切斯特•威尔科克斯时反遭毒手的，"麦克默多邻座的人告诉他说。
“现在存款很多，"司库面前放着银行存款本，报告说，“近来这些商行很大方。马克斯•林德公司付给的五百元还没动用。沃尔克兄弟送来一百元，可是我自己作主退还给他们，要他们出五百元。假如星期三我听不到回信，他们的卷扬机传动装置就会发生故障。去年我们烧毁了他们的轧碎机，他们才变得开通一点。西部煤业公司交来了年度捐献。我们手中有足够的资金去应付一切债务。”
“阿尔奇•斯温登怎么样？"一个弟兄问道。
“他已经卖去产业，离开本区了。这个老该死的给我们留下一张便条，上面说，他宁肯在纽约做一个自由的清道夫，也不愿处在一个敲诈勒索集团的势力下面做一个大矿主，天哪！他逃走了以后，我们才接到这张便条。我想他再也不敢在这个山谷中露面了。”
一个脸刮得干干净净的老年人，面容慈祥，长着一双浓眉，从桌子的另一端站起来。
“司库先生，"他问道，"请问，被我们赶跑的那个人的矿产，让谁买下了？”
“莫里斯兄弟，他的矿产被州里和默顿县铁路公司买下了。”
“去年托德曼和李氏的矿山是被谁买下的？”
“也是这家公司，莫里斯兄弟。”
“曼森铁矿、舒曼铁矿、范德尔铁矿以及阿特任德铁矿，最近都出让了，又是让谁家买去的？”
“这些铁矿都被西吉尔默顿矿业总公司买去了。”
“我不明白，莫里斯兄弟，"麦金蒂说道，“既然他们不能把矿产从这个地方带走，谁买走它们，与我们又有什么关系呢？”
“我十分敬重你，尊敬的身主，但我认为这与我们有很大的关系。这种变化过程到现在已有十年之久了。我们已经逐渐把所有的小资本家赶跑了。结果怎样呢？我们发现代替他们的是象铁路公司或煤铁总公司这样的大公司，这些公司在纽约或费城有他们的董事，对我们的恫吓置之不理。我们虽然能赶走他们在本地的工头，但这只不过意味着另派别人来代替他们而已，而我们自己反而招来危险。那些小资本家对我们不能有任何危害。他们既无钱又无势。只要我们不过于苛刻地压榨他们，他们就可以在我们的势力范围内继续留下来。可是如果这些大公司发觉我们妨碍他们和他们的利益，他们就会不遗余力，不惜工本地设法摧毁我们并向法院控诉我们。”
听到这些不吉祥的话，大家静默下来，神情沮丧，脸色阴沉。他们过去具有无上的权威，从未遭到过挫折，以至他们根本不曾想到自己会得到什么报应。然而，就连他们里面最不顾一切的人，听到莫里斯的想法，也觉得扫兴。
“我劝各位，"莫里斯继续说道，“以后对小资本家不要太苛刻了。如果有朝一日他们全被逼走了，那么我们这个社团的势力也就被破坏啦。”
实话是不受欢迎的。莫里斯说完刚刚落座，就听到一些人在高声怒叱。麦金蒂双眉紧皱，阴郁不快地站起身来。
“莫里斯兄弟，"麦金蒂说道，“你总是到处报丧。只要我们会众齐心协力，在美国就没有一种力量能碰碰我们。不错，我们不是常在法庭上和人较量么？我料想那些大公司会发觉，他们若象那些小公司一样向我们付款，倒比和我们斗争容易得多。现在，弟兄们，"麦金蒂说话时，取下他的平顶绒帽和圣带，
“今晚会务进行完了，只有一件小事要在散会前再提一下。现在是兄弟们举杯痛饮、尽情欢乐的时候了。”
人类的本性确实是很奇怪的。这是一些把杀人当作家常便饭的人，一而再、再而三毫无人性地残杀过一些家庭的家长，眼见其妻室悲啼，儿女失怙，绝无内疚之心、恻隐之意，然而一听到优柔迫切的音乐，也会感动得落泪。麦克默多有一副优美的男高音歌喉。如果说他以前还未获得会中弟兄的友情善意，那么在他唱"玛丽，我坐在篱垣上"和"在亚兰河两岸”时，却使他们深受感动，再也抑制不住对他的善意了。
就在这第一天夜晚，这位新会员使自己成为弟兄中最受欢迎的一员，已经象征着即将晋升和获得高位。然而，要成为一个受尊敬的自由人会会员，除了这些友情以外，还需要具有另外一些气质，而这个晚上还没过去，麦克默多已经被说成是这些气质的典范了。已经酒过数巡，人们早已醉醺醺，蒙眬眬，这时身主又站起来向他们讲话。
“弟兄们，"麦金蒂说道，“在镇上有一个人应当剪除，你们也知道，他是应当受到处罚的。我说的是《先驱报》的詹姆士•斯坦格。你们不是已经看到他又在破口大骂我们了吗？”
这时室内迸发出一阵赞同的低语声，有些人诅咒发誓。麦金蒂从背心口袋里拿出一张报纸来读道：
“法律与秩序！
“这是斯坦格给加上的标题。
'煤铁矿区的恐怖统治
自首次暗杀事件发生，即示明我区存在犯罪组织，现已流逝十二载。唯自斯日始，此类暴行迄未间断。时至今日，彼等已登峰造极，竟使吾人蒙受文明世界之耻。吾国当日欢纳自欧洲专制政体下逃亡之移民，何曾预想此等结果？彼等竟欲欺凌当日赖以栖身之恩主，自作暴戾，而此等恐怖暴虐、目无法纪，竟在自由之星条旗帜圣神掩盖之下确立，顿使吾人心目中引起惊恐，尤如置身于最衰朽之东方君主国中者。彼等之名，人所共知。此组织亦公开。吾人对此容忍何日方休？吾人品能常此生活……'
“够了，这种废话我念够了！"麦金蒂把报纸扔到桌上，高声喊道，“这就是斯坦格关于我们的报道。我现在对你们提出的问题是，我们对他怎样处理？”
“杀死他！"十几个人的声音杀气腾腾地喊道。
“我反对这样做，"那个长着一双浓眉、脸刮得干干净净的莫里斯兄弟说道，“弟兄们，我告诉你们，我们在这个山谷中所施的手段太狠了，他们出于自卫势必要联合起来消灭我们。詹姆士•斯坦格是一个老人。他在镇上和区里都很受敬重。他发行的报纸在这山谷中也有牢固的基础。如果这个人被我们杀害，一定会震动全国，最后结局只能是我们的毁灭。”
“他们怎么样能使我们毁灭呢？懦夫先生，"麦金蒂叫道，“用警察吗？肯定说，一半警察是受我们雇用的，另一半害怕我们。也许用法庭和法官来对付我们？我们以前不是见识过吗？结果又怎么样呢？”
“法官林奇可能来审讯这件案子的，"莫里斯兄弟说道。
大家听了，都怒喊起来。
“只要我伸出手指，"麦金蒂喊道，“我就可以派二百个人到城里把他们彻底清除出去。"然后，双眉紧皱，突然提高了声音，“喂，莫里斯兄弟，我早已注意到你了。你自己不忠心，还要让别人离心离德。莫里斯兄弟，当你自己的名字也列入我们的议事日程时，就是你的黑煞日了。我想我正应当把尊名提出来列到日程上去。”
莫里斯立刻面色苍白，双膝颤抖，瘫倒在椅子上，颤巍巍地举啤酒杯，喝了一口，答道：
“尊敬的身主，假如我说了我不应该说的话，我向你和会中诸位弟兄道歉。你们大家都知道，我是一个忠心的会友，刚才也是我唯恐会里招来不幸，所以说出这样忧虑的话来。可是，尊敬的身主，我绝对相信你的裁决，甚于相信我自己，我保证以后再也不敢冒犯了。”
身主听他说得这样谦卑，脸上的怒气消失了。
“很好，莫里斯兄弟。我也不愿对你加以教训。可是，只要我在领导之位，我们分会在言和行上就要统一。现在，弟兄们，"他看了看周围的弟兄，继续说道，“我还要再说一下，如果斯坦格得到他完全应受的惩罚，那我们就会招来更多的麻烦。一旦这些新闻记者串通起来，国内每一家报刊就都会向警察和部队呼吁了。不过我认为你可以给他一次相当严厉的警告。鲍德温兄弟，你来安排一下好吗？”
“当然了！"这个年轻人热烈地应道。
“你要带多少人去？”
“六个就够了，用两个人守门。高尔，你去；曼塞尔，还有你；斯坎伦，还有你；还有威拉比兄弟二人。”
“我允许这位新来的弟兄一同去，"麦金蒂说道。
特德•鲍德温望着麦克默多，从他的眼色可以看出，他既没有忘却前隙，也不肯宽恕。
“行，如果他愿意，他可以去，"鲍德温粗暴无礼地说道，
“够了。我们动手越快越好。”
这七个人有的吵嚷着，喊叫着，有的醉醺醺地哼着小调离了席。酒吧间里依然挤满欢宴的人，许多弟兄还留在那儿。这一小伙奉命执行任务的人走到街上，两三个一伙沿人行道行进，以免引人注意。这天夜晚，天气异常严寒，星光灿烂，一弦弯月高悬冷空。这些人走到一座高楼前停下来，聚集在院子里。明亮的玻璃窗户中间印着金色大字"维尔米萨先驱报社"。从里面传来印刷机的响声。
“你在这里，"鲍德温对麦克默多说道，“你可站在楼下面，守住大门，使我们退路畅通。阿瑟•威拉比和你在一起。其余的人随我来。弟兄们，不要怕，因为我们有十几个证人，可以证明我们此时是在工会的酒吧间里呢。”
这时将近午夜时分，街上除了一两个返家醉汉外，别无行人。这一伙人穿过大街，推开报社大门，鲍德温一行人冲进去，跑上对面的楼梯。麦克默多和另一个人留在楼下。从楼上的房间里传来呼救声，然后是脚步践踏声、椅子翻倒声。过了一会儿，一个鬓发灰白的人跑到楼梯平台上来。可是没跑几步，就被抓住，他的眼镜叮当一声落在麦克默多脚旁。只听砰的响了一下，接着是一阵呻吟声。这人面朝下倒在那里，几根棍棒一起向他身上噼噼啪啪地打来。他翻滚抽搐着，瘦长的四肢在打击下颤抖不已。别人都停手了，可是鲍德温凶残的脸依然狞笑不止，手中的棍棒向老人头上乱砍，老人徒然努力用双手护住头，但他的白发已经被血浸湿了。鲍德温还在找被害人双手护不着的地方乱打一阵。这时麦克默多跑上楼来，把他推开。
“你要把这个人打死的，"麦克默多说道，“住手！”
鲍德温惊讶地望着他。
“该死的！"鲍德温喊道，“你是谁，敢来干涉我？你这个新入会的人吗？靠后站！"他举起了棍棒，可是麦克默多从裤子后兜中抽出手枪来。
“你自己靠后站！"麦克默多高喊道，“你敢碰我一下，我就立刻开枪。身主不是有命令吩咐不要杀死这个人么，你这不是要杀死他是什么？”
“他说得不错，"其中有一个人说道。
“哎呀，你们最好快点吧！"楼下的那个人喊道，“各家窗户里都亮了灯，过不了五分钟，全镇的人都要来追捕你们了。”
这时街上果然有人喊叫，一些排字印刷工人聚集到楼下大厅里，鼓起勇气准备行动。那些罪犯便丢下这个编辑僵卧的身体，窜下楼来，飞快沿街而逃。跑到工会大厅以后，一些人混到麦金蒂酒馆的人群中，低声向首领报告，事情已经完全得手。另一些人，其中也有麦克默多，奔到街上，从偏僻的小路各回各家去了。
Part 2 Chapter 4 The Valley of Fear
When McMurdo awoke next morning he had good reason to remember his initiation into the lodge. His head ached with the effect of the drink, and his arm, where he had been branded, was hot and swollen. Having his own peculiar source of income, he was irregular in his attendance at his work; so he had a late breakfast, and remained at home for the morning writing a long letter to a friend. Afterwards he read the Daily Herald. In a special column put in at the last moment he read:
OUTRAGE AT THE HERALD OFFICE--EDITOR SERIOUSLY INJURED.
It was a short account of the facts with which he was himself more familiar than the writer could have been. It ended with the statement:
The matter is now in the hands of the police; but it can hardly be hoped that their exertions will be attended by any better results than in the past. Some of the men were recognized, and there is hope that a conviction may be obtained. The source of the outrage was, it need hardly be said, that infamous society which has held this community in bondage for so long a period, and against which the Herald has taken so uncompromising a stand. Mr. Stanger's many friends will rejoice to hear that, though he has been cruelly and brutally beaten, and though he has sustained severe injuries about the head, there is no immediate danger to his life.
Below it stated that a guard of police, armed with Winchester rifles, had been requisitioned for the defense of the office.
McMurdo had laid down the paper, and was lighting his pipe with a hand which was shaky from the excesses of the previous evening, when there was a knock outside, and his landlady brought to him a note which had just been handed in by a lad. It was unsigned, and ran thus:
I should wish to speak to you, but would rather not do so in your house. You will find me beside the flagstaff upon Miller Hill. If you will come there now, I have something which it is important for you to hear and for me to say.
McMurdo read the note twice with the utmost surprise; for he could not imagine what it meant or who was the author of it. Had it been in a feminine hand, he might have imagined that it was the beginning of one of those adventures which had been familiar enough in his past life. But it was the writing of a man, and of a well educated one, too. Finally, after some hesitation, he determined to see the matter through.
Miller Hill is an ill-kept public park in the very centre of the town. In summer it is a favourite resort of the people, but in winter it is desolate enough. From the top of it one has a view not only of the whole straggling, grimy town, but of the winding valley beneath, with its scattered mines and factories blackening the snow on each side of it, and of the wooded and white-capped ranges flanking it.
McMurdo strolled up the winding path hedged in with evergreens until he reached the deserted restaurant which forms the centre of summer gaiety. Beside it was a bare flagstaff, and underneath it a man, his hat drawn down and the collar of his overcoat turned up. When he turned his face McMurdo saw that it was Brother Morris, he who had incurred the anger of the Bodymaster the night before. The lodge sign was given and exchanged as they met.
"I wanted to have a word with you, Mr. McMurdo," said the older man, speaking with a hesitation which showed that he was on delicate ground. "It was kind of you to come."
"Why did you not put your name to the note?"
"One has to be cautious, mister. One never knows in times like these how a thing may come back to one. One never knows either who to trust or who not to trust."
"Surely one may trust brothers of the lodge."
"No, no, not always," cried Morris with vehemence. "Whatever we say, even what we think, seems to go back to that man McGinty."
"Look here!" said McMurdo sternly. "It was only last night, as you know well, that I swore good faith to our Bodymaster. Would you be asking me to break my oath?"
"If that is the view you take," said Morris sadly, "I can only say that I am sorry I gave you the trouble to come and meet me. Things have come to a bad pass when two free citizens cannot speak their thoughts to each other."
McMurdo, who had been watching his companion very narrowly, relaxed somewhat in his bearing. "Sure I spoke for myself only," said he. "I am a newcomer, as you know, and I am strange to it all. It is not for me to open my mouth, Mr. Morris, and if you think well to say anything to me I am here to hear it."
"And to take it back to Boss McGinty!" said Morris bitterly.
"Indeed, then, you do me injustice there," cried McMurdo. "For myself I am loyal to the lodge, and so I tell you straight; but I would be a poor creature if I were to repeat to any other what you might say to me in confidence. It will go no further than me; though I warn you that you may get neither help nor sympathy."
"I have given up looking for either the one or the other," said Morris. "I may be putting my very life in your hands by what I say; but, bad as you are--and it seemed to me last night that you were shaping to be as bad as the worst--still you are new to it, and your conscience cannot yet be as hardened as theirs. That was why I thought to speak with you."
"Well, what have you to say?"
"If you give me away, may a curse be on you!"
"Sure, I said I would not."
"I would ask you, then, when you joined the Freeman's society in Chicago and swore vows of charity and fidelity, did ever it cross your mind that you might find it would lead you to crime?"
"If you call it crime," McMurdo answered.
"Call it crime!" cried Morris, his voice vibrating with passion. "You have seen little of it if you can call it anything else. Was it crime last night when a man old enough to be your father was beaten till the blood dripped from his white hairs? Was that crime--or what else would you call it?"
"There are some would say it was war," said McMurdo, "a war of two classes with all in, so that each struck as best it could."
"Well, did you think of such a thing when you joined the Freeman's society at Chicago?"
"No, I'm bound to say I did not."
"Nor did I when I joined it at Philadelphia. It was just a benefit club and a meeting place for one's fellows. Then I heard of this place--curse the hour that the name first fell upon my ears!--and I came to better myself! My God! to better myself! My wife and three children came with me. I started a drygoods store on Market Square, and I prospered well. The word had gone round that I was a Freeman, and I was forced to join the local lodge, same as you did last night. I've the badge of shame on my forearm and something worse branded on my heart. I found that I was under the orders of a black villain and caught in a meshwork of crime. What could I do? Every word I said to make things better was taken as treason, same as it was last night. I can't get away; for all I have in the world is in my store. If I leave the society, I know well that it means murder to me, and God knows what to my wife and children. Oh, man, it is awful--awful!" He put his hands to his face, and his body shook with convulsive sobs.
McMurdo shrugged his shoulders. "You were too soft for the job," said he. "You are the wrong sort for such work."
"I had a conscience and a religion; but they made me a criminal among them. I was chosen for a job. If I backed down I knew well what would come to me. Maybe I'm a coward. Maybe it's the thought of my poor little woman and the children that makes me one. Anyhow I went. I guess it will haunt me forever.
"It was a lonely house, twenty miles from here, over the range yonder. I was told off for the door, same as you were last night. They could not trust me with the job. The others went in. When they came out their hands were crimson to the wrists. As we turned away a child was screaming out of the house behind us. It was a boy of five who had seen his father murdered. I nearly fainted with the horror of it, and yet I had to keep a bold and smiling face; for well I knew that if I did not it would be out of my house that they would come next with their bloody hands and it would be my little Fred that would be screaming for his father.
"But I was a criminal then, part sharer in a murder, lost forever in this world, and lost also in the next. I am a good Catholic; but the priest would have no word with me when he heard I was a Scowrer, and I am excommunicated from my faith. That's how it stands with me. And I see you going down the same road, and I ask you what the end is to be. Are you ready to be a cold-blooded murderer also, or can we do anything to stop it?"
"What would you do?" asked McMurdo abruptly. "You would not inform?"
"God forbid!" cried Morris. "Sure, the very thought would cost me my life."
"That's well," said McMurdo. "I'm thinking that you are a weak man and that you make too much of the matter."
"Too much! Wait till you have lived here longer. Look down the valley! See the cloud of a hundred chimneys that overshadows it! I tell you that the cloud of murder hangs thicker and lower than that over the heads of the people. It is the Valley of Fear, the Valley of Death. The terror is in the hearts of the people from the dusk to the dawn. Wait, young man, and you will learn for yourself."
"Well, I'll let you know what I think when I have seen more," said McMurdo carelessly. "What is very clear is that you are not the man for the place, and that the sooner you sell out--if you only get a dime a dollar for what the business is worth--the better it will be for you. What you have said is safe with me; but, by Gar! if I thought you were an informer--"
"No, no!" cried Morris piteously.
"Well, let it rest at that. I'll bear what you have said in mind, and maybe some day I'll come back to it. I expect you meant kindly by speaking to me like this. Now I'll be getting home."
"One word before you go," said Morris. "We may have been seen together. They may want to know what we have spoken about."
"Ah! that's well thought of."
"I offer you a clerkship in my store."
"And I refuse it. That's our business. Well, so long, Brother Morris, and may you find things go better with you in the future."
That same afternoon, as McMurdo sat smoking, lost in thought beside the stove of his sitting-room, the door swung open and its framework was filled with the huge figure of Boss McGinty. He passed the sign, and then seating himself opposite to the young man he looked at him steadily for some time, a look which was as steadily returned.
"I'm not much of a visitor, Brother McMurdo," he said at last. "I guess I am too busy over the folk that visit me. But I thought I'd stretch a point and drop down to see you in your own house."
"I'm proud to see you here, Councillor," McMurdo answered heartily, bringing his whisky bottle out of the cupboard. "It's an honour that I had not expected."
"How's the arm?" asked the Boss.
McMurdo made a wry face. "Well, I'm not forgetting it," he said; "but it's worth it."
"Yes, it's worth it," the other answered, "to those that are loyal and go through with it and are a help to the lodge. What were you speaking to Brother Morris about on Miller Hill this morning?"
The question came so suddenly that it was well that he had his answer prepared. He burst into a hearty laugh. "Morris didn't know I could earn a living here at home. He shan't know either; for he has got too much conscience for the likes of me. But he's a good-hearted old chap. It was his idea that I was at a loose end, and that he would do me a good turn by offering me a clerkship in a drygoods store."
"Oh, that was it?"
"Yes, that was it."
"And you refused it?"
"Sure. Couldn't I earn ten times as much in my own bedroom with four hours' work?"
"That's so. But I wouldn't get about too much with Morris."
"Why not?"
"Well, I guess because I tell you not. That's enough for most folk in these parts."
"It may be enough for most folk; but it ain't enough for me, Councillor," said McMurdo boldly. "If you are a judge of men, you'll know that."
The swarthy giant glared at him, and his hairy paw closed for an instant round the glass as though he would hurl it at the head of his companion. Then he laughed in his loud, boisterous, insincere fashion.
"You're a queer card, for sure," said he. "Well, if you want reasons, I'll give them. Did Morris say nothing to you against the lodge?"
"No."
"Nor against me?"
"No."
"Well, that's because he daren't trust you. But in his heart he is not a loyal brother. We know that well. So we watch him and we wait for the time to admonish him. I'm thinking that the time is drawing near. There's no room for scabby sheep in our pen. But if you keep company with a disloyal man, we might think that you were disloyal, too. See?"
"There's no chance of my keeping company with him; for I dislike the man," McMurdo answered. "As to being disloyal, if it was any man but you he would not use the word to me twice."
"Well, that's enough," said McGinty, draining off his glass. "I came down to give you a word in season, and you've had it."
"I'd like to know," said McMurdo, "how you ever came to learn that I had spoken with Morris at all?"
McGinty laughed. "It's my business to know what goes on in this township," said he. "I guess you'd best reckon on my hearing all that passes. Well, time's up, and I'll just say--"
But his leavetaking was cut short in a very unexpected fashion. With a sudden crash the door flew open, and three frowning, intent faces glared in at them from under the peaks of police caps. McMurdo sprang to his feet and half drew his revolver; but his arm stopped midway as he became conscious that two Winchester rifles were levelled at his head. A man in uniform advanced into the room, a six-shooter in his hand. It was Captain Marvin, once of Chicago, and now of the Mine Constabulary. He shook his head with a half-smile at McMurdo.
"I thought you'd be getting into trouble, Mr. Crooked McMurdo of Chicago," said he. "Can't keep out of it, can you? Take your hat and come along with us."
"I guess you'll pay for this, Captain Marvin," said McGinty. "Who are you, I'd like to know, to break into a house in this fashion and molest honest, law-abiding men?"
"You're standing out in this deal, Councillor McGinty," said the police captain. "We are not out after you, but after this man McMurdo. It is for you to help, not to hinder us in our duty,"
"He is a friend of mine, and I'll answer for his conduct," said the Boss.
"By all accounts, Mr. McGinty, you may have to answer for your own conduct some of these days," the captain answered. "This man McMurdo was a crook before ever he came here, and he's a crook still. Cover him, Patrolman, while I disarm him."
"There's my pistol," said McMurdo coolly. "Maybe, Captain Marvin, if you and I were alone and face to face you would not take me so easily."
"Where's your warrant?" asked McGinty. "By Gar! a man might as well live in Russia as in Vermissa while folk like you are running the police. It's a capitalist outrage, and you'll hear more of it, I reckon."
"You do what you think is your duty the best way you can, Councillor. We'll look after ours."
"What am I accused of?" asked McMurdo.
"Of being concerned in the beating of old Editor Stanger at the Herald office. It wasn't your fault that it isn't a murder charge."
"Well, if that's all you have against him," cried McGinty with a laugh, "you can save yourself a deal of trouble by dropping it right now. This man was with me in my saloon playing poker up to midnight, and I can bring a dozen to prove it."
"That's your affair, and I guess you can settle it in court to-morrow. Meanwhile, come on, McMurdo, and come quietly if you don't want a gun across your head. You stand wide, Mr. McGinty; for I warn you I will stand no resistance when I am on duty!"
So determined was the appearance of the captain that both McMurdo and his boss were forced to accept the situation. The latter managed to have a few whispered words with the prisoner before they parted.
"What about--" he jerked his thumb upward to signify the coining plant.
"All right," whispered McMurdo, who had devised a safe hiding place under the floor.
"I'll bid you good-bye," said the Boss, shaking hands. "I'll see Reilly the lawyer and take the defense upon myself. Take my word for it that they won't be able to hold you."
"I wouldn't bet on that. Guard the prisoner, you two, and shoot him if he tries any games. I'll search the house before I leave."
He did so; but apparently found no trace of the concealed plant. When he had descended he and his men escorted McMurdo to headquarters. Darkness had fallen, and a keen blizzard was blowing so that the streets were nearly deserted; but a few loiterers followed the group, and emboldened by invisibility shouted imprecations at the prisoner.
"Lynch the cursed Scowrer!" they cried. "Lynch him!" They laughed and jeered as he was pushed into the police station. After a short, formal examination from the inspector in charge he was put into the common cell. Here he found Baldwin and three other criminals of the night before, all arrested that afternoon and waiting their trial next morning.
But even within this inner fortress of the law the long arm of the Freemen was able to extend. Late at night there came a jailer with a straw bundle for their bedding, out of which he extracted two bottles of whisky, some glasses, and a pack of cards. They spent a hilarious night, without an anxious thought as to the ordeal of the morning.
Nor had they cause, as the result was to show. The magistrate could not possibly, on the evidence, have held them for a higher court. On the one hand the compositors and pressmen were forced to admit that the light was uncertain, that they were themselves much perturbed, and that it was difficult for them to swear to the identity of the assailants; although they believed that the accused were among them. Cross examined by the clever attorney who had been engaged by McGinty, they were even more nebulous in their evidence.
The injured man had already deposed that he was so taken by surprise by the suddenness of the attack that he could state nothing beyond the fact that the first man who struck him wore a moustache. He added that he knew them to be Scowrers, since no one else in the community could possibly have any enmity to him, and he had long been threatened on account of his outspoken editorials. On the other hand, it was clearly shown by the united and unfaltering evidence of six citizens, including that high municipal official, Councillor McGinty, that the men had been at a card party at the Union House until an hour very much later than the commission of the outrage.
Needless to say that they were discharged with something very near to an apology from the bench for the inconvenience to which they had been put, together with an implied censure of Captain Marvin and the police for their officious zeal.
The verdict was greeted with loud applause by a court in which McMurdo saw many familiar faces. Brothers of the lodge smiled and waved. But there were others who sat with compressed lips and brooding eyes as the men filed out of the dock. One of them, a little, dark-bearded, resolute fellow, put the thoughts of himself and comrades into words as the ex-prisoners passed him.
"You damned murderers!" he said. "We'll fix you yet!"
第二天早晨，麦克默多一觉醒来，回忆起入会的情形。因为酒喝多了，头有些胀痛，臂膀烙伤处也肿胀起来隐隐作痛。他既有特殊的收入来源，去做工也就不定时了，所以早餐吃得很晚，而上午便留在家中给朋友写了一封长信。后来，他又翻阅了一下《每日先驱报》，只见专栏中刊载着一段报道：
先驱报社暴徒行凶——主笔受重伤
这是一段简要的报道，实际上麦克默多自己比记者知道得更清楚。报道的结尾说：
“此事现已归警署办理，然断难瞩望彼等获致优于前此诸案之效果。暴徒中数人已为人知，故可望予以判处。而暴行之源则毋庸讳言为该声名狼藉之社团，彼等奴役全区居民多年，《先驱报》与彼等展开毫无妥协之斗争。斯坦格君之众多友好当喜闻下述音信，斯坦格君虽惨遭毒打，头部受伤甚重，然尚无性命之虞。”
下面报道说，报社已由装备着温切斯特步枪之煤铁警察队守卫。
麦克默多放下报纸，点起烟斗，但手臂由于昨晚的灼伤，不觉有些颤动。此时外面有人敲门，房东太太给他送来一封便笺，说是一个小孩刚刚送到的。信上没有署名，上面写着：
“我有事要和您谈一谈，但不能到您府上来。您可在米勒山上旗杆旁找到我。如您现在肯来，我有要事相告。”
麦克默多十分惊奇地把信读了两遍，他想不出写信的人是谁，或有什么用意。如果这出于一个女人之手，他可以设想，这或许是某些奇遇的开端，他过去生活中对此也岂不生疏。可是这是一个男人的手笔，此人似乎还受过良好教育。麦克默多踌躇了一会儿，最后决定去看个明白。
米勒山是镇中心一座荒凉的公园。夏季这里是人们常游之地，但在冬季却异常荒凉。从山顶上俯瞰下去，不仅可以尽览全镇污秽零乱的情景，而且可看到蜿蜒而下的山谷；山谷两旁是疏疏落落的矿山和工厂，附近积雪已被染污了；此外还可观赏那林木茂密的山坡和白雪覆盖的山顶。
麦克默多沿着长青树丛中蜿蜒的小径，漫步走到一家冷落的饭馆前，这里在夏季是娱乐的中心。旁边是一棵光秃秃的旗杆，旗杆下有一个人，帽子戴得很低，大衣领子竖起来。这个人回过头来，麦克默多认出他是莫里斯兄弟，就是昨晚惹怒身主的那个人，两人相见，交换了会里的暗语。
“我想和您谈一谈，麦克默多先生，"老人显得进退两难，踌躇不决地说道，“难得您赏光前来。”
“你为什么信上不署名呢？”
“谁也不能不小心谨慎，先生。人们不知道什么时候会招来祸事，也不知道谁是可以信任的，谁是不可信任的。”
“当然谁也可以信任会中弟兄。”
“不，不，不一定，"莫里斯情绪激昂地大声说道，“我们说的什么，甚至想的什么，似乎都可以传到麦金蒂那里。”
“喂！"麦克默多厉声说道，“你知道，我昨晚刚刚宣誓要忠于我们的身主。你是不是要让我背叛我的誓言？”
“如果你这样想，"莫里斯满面愁容地说道，“我只能说，我很抱歉，让你白跑一趟来和我见面了。两个自由公民不能交谈心里话，这岂不是太糟糕了么！”
麦克默多仔细地观察着对方，稍微解除了一点顾虑，说道：“当然，我说这话只是为我自己着想的。你知道，我是一个新来的人，我对这里的一切都是生疏的。就我来说，是没有发言权的，莫里斯先生。如果你有什么话要对我讲，我将洗耳恭听。”
“然后去报告首领麦金蒂！"莫里斯悲痛地说道。
“那你可真冤枉我了，"麦克默多叫道，“从我自己来说，我对会党忠心，所以我就对你直说了。可是假如我把你对我推心置腹讲的话说给别人听，那我就是一个卑鄙的奴才了。不过，我要警告你，你不要指望得到我的帮助或同情。”
“我并不指望求得帮助或同情，"莫里斯说道，“我对你说这些话，就已经把性命放在你手心里了。不过，虽然你够坏的了——昨晚我觉得你会变成一个最坏的人，但毕竟你还是个新手，也不象他们那样的铁石心肠，这就是我想找你谈一谈的原因。”
“好，你要对我讲些什么？”
“如果你出卖了我，你就要遭到报应！”
“当然，我说过我绝不出卖你。”
“那么，我问你，你在芝加哥加入自由人会，立誓要做到忠诚、博爱时，你心里想过它会把你引向犯罪道路吗？”
“假如你把它叫做犯罪的话，"麦克默多答道。
“叫做犯罪！"莫里斯喊道，他的声音激动得颤抖起来，“你已经看到一点犯罪事实了，你还能把它叫做什么别的？！昨天晚上，一个岁数大得可以做你父亲的老人被打得血染白发，这是不是犯罪？你把这叫做犯罪，还是把它叫做什么别的呢？”
“有些人会说这是一场斗争，"麦克默多说道，“是一场两个阶级之间的全力以赴的斗争，所以每一方尽量打击对方。”
“那么，你在芝加哥参加自由人会时，可曾想到这样的事吗？”
“没有，我担保没有想到过。”
“我在费城入会时，也没有想到过。只知道这是一个有益的会社和朋友们聚会的场所。后来我听人提到这个地方，我真恨死这个名字第一次传到我耳中的那一时刻了，我想到这里来使自己生活得好一些！天啊！使自己生活得好一些！我妻子和三个孩子随我一起来了。我在市场开了一家绸布店，颇有盈利。我是一个自由人会会员，这件事很快就传开了。后来我被迫象你昨晚那样，加入当地的分会。我的胳膊上烙下了这个耻辱的标记，而心里却打上了更加丑恶的烙印。我发觉我已经受一个奸邪的恶棍指挥控制，并陷入一个犯罪网里。我可怎么办呢？我想把事情做得善良些，可是只要我一说话，他们便象昨晚一样，说我是叛逆。我在世上所有的一切，都在绸布店里，我也不能远走他方。如果我要脱离这个社团，我知道得很清楚，我一定会被谋害，上帝知道我的妻子儿女会怎么样？噢，朋友，这简直可怕，太可怕了！"他双手掩面，身体不住地颤动，抽抽噎噎地啜泣起来。
麦克默多耸了耸肩，说道：“做这种事，你心肠太软了，你不适合干这样的事。”
“我的良心和信仰还没有丧失，可是他们使我成为他们这伙罪犯中间的一个。他们选中我去做一件事，如果我退缩，我很清楚，我会遭到什么下场。也许我是一个胆小鬼，也许是我想到我那可怜的小女人和孩子们，无论怎么说，反正我是去了。我想这件事会永远压在我心里的。
“这是山那边一所孤零零的房子，离这里有二十英里。象你昨天那样，他们让我守住门口。干这种事，他们还不相信我。其他的人都进去了。他们出来时，双手都沾满了鲜血。正当我们离开时，一个小孩从房内跑出来跟在我们后面哭叫着。这是一个五岁的孩子，亲眼看到他父亲遇害。我吓得几乎昏厥过去，可是我不得不装出勇敢的样子，摆出一副笑脸来。因为我很明白，如果我不这样，同样的事就要出在我的家里，他们下次就会双手沾满鲜血从我家里出来，我的小弗雷德就要哭叫他的父亲了。
“可是我已经是一个犯罪的人了，是一个谋杀案的胁从犯，在这个世界上永远被遗弃，在下世也难超生。我是一个善良的天主教徒。可是神父要听说我是一个死酷党人，也不会为我祈祷了，我已经背弃了宗教信仰。这就是我所经受的。我看你也正在走这条路，我问你，将来会有什么样的结局呢？你是准备做一个嗜血杀人犯呢，还是我们去设法阻止它呢？”
“你要怎样做呢？"麦克默多突然问道，"你不会去告密吧？”
“但愿不要发生这样的事！"莫里斯大声说道，“当然，就是这样一想，我的性命也就难保了。”
“那好，"麦克默多说道，“我想你是一个胆小的人，所以你把这件事也看得太严重了。”
“太严重！等你在这里住得时间长一些再瞧。看看这座山谷！看看这座被上百个烟囱冒出的浓烟笼罩住了的山谷！我告诉你，这杀人行凶的阴云比那笼罩在人民的头上的烟云还要低回、浓厚。这是一个恐怖谷，死亡谷。从早到晚，人们心里都惊惶不安。等着瞧吧，年轻人，你自己会弄清楚的。”
“好，等我了解得多了，我会把想法告诉你的，"麦克默多漫不经心地说道，“很清楚，你不适于住在这里，你最好早些转售你的产业，这对你会有好处的。你对我所说的话，请放心，我不会说出去。可是，皇天在上，如果我发现你是一个告密的人，那可就……”
“不，不！"莫里斯令人可怜地叫道。
“好，我们就谈到这里。我一定把你的话记在心上，也可能过几天我就给你回话。我认为你对我讲这些话是善意的。现在我要回家去了。”
“在你走之前，我还要讲一句话，"莫里斯说道，“我们在一起讲话，难免有人看见。他们可能要打听我们说些什么。”“啊，这一着想得很好。”
“我就说我想请你到我店里做职员。”
“我说我不答应。这就是我们到这里办的事情。好，再见，莫里斯兄弟。祝你走运。”
就在这天中午，麦克默多坐在起居室壁炉旁吸烟，正陷于沉思之中，门突然被撞开，首领麦金蒂高大的身影堵满了门框。他打过招呼，在这个年轻人对面坐了下来，冷静沉着地瞪了他好一阵子，麦克默多也照样瞪着他。
“我是不轻易出来拜访人的，麦克默多兄弟，"麦金蒂终于说道，“我总是忙于接待那些拜访我的人。可是我认为我已经破例到你家来看望你了。”
“蒙你光临，我很感荣幸，参议员先生，"麦克默多亲热地答道，从食起橱里取出一起威士忌酒来，“这是我喜出望外的光荣。”
“胳膊怎么样，"身主问道。
麦克默多作了一个鬼脸，答道：“啊，我不会忘记的，可是这是有价值的。”
“对于那些忠实可靠、履行仪式、帮助会务的人来说，这是有价值的。今天早晨在米勒山附近，你对莫里斯兄弟说了些什么？”
这一问题来得如此突兀，幸而麦克默多早有准备，遂放声大笑道：“莫里斯不知道我可以在家中谋生。他也根本不会知道，因为他把我这一类人的良心估计过高。不过他倒是一个好心的老家伙。他以为我没有职业，所以他要我在一家绸布店里做职员。”
“啊，原来是为这事吗？”
“是的，就是这么件事。”
“那么你回绝了吗？”
“当然了。我在自己卧室里干四个小时，不要比在他那里多挣十倍吗？”
“不错。可是要是我的话，我不会和莫里斯来往太多的。”
“为什么呢？”
“我想我不能告诉你。这里大多数人都明白。”
“也许大多数人都明白，可是我还不明白，参议员先生，”麦克默多鲁莽地说，"如果你是一个公正的人，你就会知道的。”
这个黑大汉怒目瞪着麦克默多，他那毛茸茸的手爪一下子抓住酒杯，好象要把它猛掷在对方头上，后来他反而兴高采烈、虚情假意地大笑起来。
“毫无疑问，你确实是一个怪人，"麦金蒂说道，“好，如果你一定要知道原因，那么我就告诉你。莫里斯没有向你说什么反对本会的话吗？”
“没有。”
“也没有反对我的话吗？”
“没有。”
“啊，那是因为他还不敢相信你。可是他心里已经不是一个忠心的弟兄了。我们对这一点知道得很清楚，所以对他很注意，我们就等待时机去告诫他，我想这一时刻已经不远了。因为在我们的羊圈里是没有那些下贱绵羊的栖身之地的。可是如果你同一个不忠心的人结交，我们要认为你也是一个不忠心的人。这你明白了吗？”
“因为我不喜欢这个人，我也没有机会和他结交。"麦克默多回答道，“至于说我不忠心，也就是出自你的口中，假如要是别的人，他就不会有机会第二次再对我说这种话了。”
“好，不要再说了，"麦金蒂把酒一饮而尽，说道，“我是及时来劝告你，你应当明白。”
“我很想知道你究竟是怎么知道我和莫里斯谈过话的。”
麦金蒂笑了一笑。
“在这个镇子里发生什么事，我都知道，"麦金蒂说，“我想你总该知道不论什么事都逃不过我的耳目的。好，时间不早了，我还要说……”
可是一个非常意外的情况打断了他告别的话。随着一下突然的撞击声，门打开了，三张坚决的面孔正从警帽的帽檐下怒目横眉地瞪着他们。麦克默多跳起身来，刚把手枪抽出一半，他的手臂就在半路停了下来，因为他发现两支温切斯特步枪已经对准了他的头部。一个身着警服的人走进室内，手中握着一支六响的左轮手枪。这人正是以前在芝加哥待过，现在的煤铁矿保安队队长马文。他摇摇头，皮笑肉不笑地望着麦克默多。
“芝加哥的麦克默多先生，我想你已经被捕了，"马文说道，“你是不能脱身的，戴上帽子，跟我们走！”
“我认为你要因此而付出代价的，马文队长，"麦金蒂说道。"我倒愿意知道，你是什么人，可以在这样的情况下，擅自闯入人家家中，骚扰一个忠实守法的人！”
“这与你无关的，参议员先生，"警察队长说道，“我们并不是来追捕你，而是来追捕这个麦克默多的。你应当帮助我们，而不应当妨碍我们履行职责。”
“他是我的朋友，我可以对他的行为担保，"麦金蒂说道。
“无论从哪方面看，麦金蒂先生，近几天里，你只能为你自己的行为担保了，"警察队长答道，“麦克默多来这里以前早就是个无赖，现在仍然不安分守己。警士，把枪对准他，我来缴他的械。”
“这是我的手枪，"麦克默多冷冰冰地说道，“马文队长，假如你我二人单独面对面地相遇，你不会这么容易捉住我的。”
“你们的拘票呢！"麦金蒂说道，“天哪！一个人住在维尔米萨竟和住在俄国一样，象你这样的人也来领导警察局！这是资本家的非法手段，我估计以后这种事会听得更多的。”
“你愿意怎么想就怎么想，参议员先生。我们该怎么办就怎么办。”
“我犯了什么罪？"麦克默多问道。
“在先驱报社殴打老主笔斯坦格一案与你有关。别人没告你杀人之罪，这并不是因为你不想杀人。”
“啊，假如你们仅是为了这件事，"麦金蒂微笑着说道，“现在住手，你们可以省很多麻烦。这个人在我酒馆里和我一起打扑克，一直打到半夜，我可以找出十几个人来作证明。”
“那是你的事，我认为明天你可以到法庭去说。走吧，麦克默多，假如我不愿意枪弹射穿你的胸膛，你就老老实实地走。麦金蒂先生，你站远点，我警告你，在我履行职责时，决不容许有任何抵抗的。”
马文队长的神色如此坚决，以至麦克默多和他的首领不得不接受既成事实。在分手以前，麦金蒂借机和被捕者低声耳语道：“那东西怎样……"他猛地伸出大拇指，暗示着铸币机。
“安排好了，"麦克默多低语说，他已经把它安放在地板下安全的隐秘处所。
“我祝你一路平安，"首领和麦克默多握手告别，说道，“我要去请赖利律师，并且亲自去出庭辩护。请相信我的话，他们不会扣留你的。”
“我不愿在这上面打赌。你们两个人把罪犯看好，假如他想耍什么花招，就开枪射击。我要先把这屋子搜查一下然后再撤。”
马文队长搜查了一番，不过显然没有发现隐藏铸币机的痕迹。他走下楼来，和一干人把麦克默多押送到总署去。天色已经昏黑，刮起一阵强烈的暴风雪，因此街上已经很少行人，只有少数几个闲逛的人跟在他们后面，壮着胆子大声诅咒被捕者。
“处决这个该死的死酷党人！"他们高声喊道，“处决他！”在麦克默多被推进警署时，他们嘲笑他。经过主管的警官简短的审问之后，麦克默多被投进普通牢房。他发现鲍德温和前一天晚上的其他三个罪犯也在这里，他们都是这天下午被捕的，等候明天审讯。
自由人会的手很长，甚至能伸到监牢里。天晚以后，一个狱卒带进一捆稻草来给他们铺用，他又从里面拿出两瓶威士忌酒，几个酒杯和一副纸牌来。他们就饮酒赌博，狂欢了一夜，丝毫不顾虑明早的事。
他们这样做什么麻烦也没惹出来，案件的结局就是明证。这位地方法官，根据证词不能给他们定罪。一方面，排字工人和印刷工人不得不承认灯光十分模糊，他们自己也非常混乱慌张，尽管他们相信被告就是其中的人，但很难绝对保证认清行凶者的面貌。经过麦金蒂安排好的聪明的律师一番盘问以后，这些证人的证词更加含糊不清了。
被害人已经证明说，他遭受突然袭击时非常震惊，除了记得第一个动手打他的人有一撮小胡子以外，什么也说不清。他补充说，他知道这些人是死酷党党徒，因为社会上没有别的人恨他，由于他经常公开发表评论，长期以来受到该党党徒的威胁恫吓。
另一方面，有六个公民，其中包括市政官参议员麦金蒂，出席作证，他们的证词坚决、一致、清楚地说明，这些被告都在工会打扑克，一直到严重违法行为发生一个多小时以后才散场。
不用说，对被捕的人所受的烦扰，法官说了一些近于道歉的话，同时含蓄地训斥了马文队长和警察多管闲事，便把被告释放了。
这时法庭内一些旁听者大声鼓掌欢迎这一裁决，麦克默多看出其中有许多熟悉的面孔。会里的弟兄都微笑着挥手致意。可是另一些人在这伙罪犯从被告席上鱼贯而出时，坐在那里双唇紧闭，目光阴郁；其中一个小个子黑胡须面容坚毅果敢的人，在那些获释的罪犯从他面前走过时，说出了他自己和其他人的想法。
“你们这些该死的凶手！"他喊道，"我们还要收拾你们的！”
Part 2 Chapter 5 The Darkest Hour
If anything had been needed to give an impetus to Jack McMurdo's popularity among his fellows it would have been his arrest and acquittal. That a man on the very night of joining the lodge should have done something which brought him before the magistrate was a new record in the annals of the society. Already he had earned the reputation of a good boon companion, a cheery reveller, and withal a man of high temper, who would not take an insult even from the all-powerful Boss himself. But in addition to this he impressed his comrades with the idea that among them all there was not one whose brain was so ready to devise a bloodthirsty scheme, or whose hand would be more capable of carrying it out. "He'll be the boy for the clean job," said the oldsters to one another, and waited their time until they could set him to his work.
McGinty had instruments enough already; but he recognized that this was a supremely able one. He felt like a man holding a fierce bloodhound in leash. There were curs to do the smaller work; but some day he would slip this creature upon its prey. A few members of the lodge, Ted Baldwin among them, resented the rapid rise of the stranger and hated him for it; but they kept clear of him, for he was as ready to fight as to laugh.
But if he gained favour with his fellows, there was another quarter, one which had become even more vital to him, in which he lost it. Ettie Shafter's father would have nothing more to do with him, nor would he allow him to enter the house. Ettie herself was too deeply in love to give him up altogether, and yet her own good sense warned her of what would come from a marriage with a man who was regarded as a criminal.
One morning after a sleepless night she determined to see him, possibly for the last time, and make one strong endeavour to draw him from those evil influences which were sucking him down. She went to his house, as he had often begged her to do, and made her way into the room which he used as his sitting-room. He was seated at a table, with his back turned and a letter in front of him. A sudden spirit of girlish mischief came over her--she was still only nineteen. He had not heard her when she pushed open the door. Now she tiptoed forward and laid her hand lightly upon his bended shoulders.
If she had expected to startle him, she certainly succeeded; but only in turn to be startled herself. With a tiger spring he turned on her, and his right hand was feeling for her throat. At the same instant with the other hand he crumpled up the paper that lay before him. For an instant he stood glaring. Then astonishment and joy took the place of the ferocity which had convulsed his features--a ferocity which had sent her shrinking back in horror as from something which had never before intruded into her gentle life.
"It's you!" said he, mopping his brow. "And to think that you should come to me, heart of my heart, and I should find nothing better to do than to want to strangle you! Come then, darling," and he held out his arms, "let me make it up to you."
But she had not recovered from that sudden glimpse of guilty fear which she had read in the man's face. All her woman's instinct told her that it was not the mere fright of a man who is startled. Guilt--that was it--guilt and fear!
"What's come over you, Jack?" she cried. "Why were you so scared of me? Oh, Jack, if your conscience was at ease, you would not have looked at me like that!"
"Sure, I was thinking of other things, and when you came tripping so lightly on those fairy feet of yours--"
"No, no, it was more than that, Jack." Then a sudden suspicion seized her. "Let me see that letter you were writing."
"Ah, Ettie, I couldn't do that."
Her suspicions became certainties. "It's to another woman," she cried. "I know it! Why else should you hold it from me? Was it to your wife that you were writing? How am I to know that you are not a married man--you, a stranger, that nobody knows?"
"I am not married, Ettie. See now, I swear it! You're the only one woman on earth to me. By the cross of Christ I swear it!"
He was so white with passionate earnestness that she could not but believe him.
"Well, then," she cried, "why will you not show me the letter?"
"I'll tell you, acushla," said he. "I'm under oath not to show it, and just as I wouldn't break my word to you so I would keep it to those who hold my promise. It's the business of the lodge, and even to you it's secret. And if I was scared when a hand fell on me, can't you understand it when it might have been the hand of a detective?"
She felt that he was telling the truth. He gathered her into his arms and kissed away her fears and doubts.
"Sit here by me, then. It's a queer throne for such a queen; but it's the best your poor lover can find. He'll do better for you some of these days, I'm thinking. Now your mind is easy once again, is it not?"
"How can it ever be at ease, Jack, when I know that you are a criminal among criminals, when I never know the day that I may hear you are in court for murder? 'McMurdo the Scowrer,' that's what one of our boarders called you yesterday. It went through my heart like a knife."
"Sure, hard words break no bones."
"But they were true."
"Well, dear, it's not so bad as you think. We are but poor men that are trying in our own way to get our rights."
Ettie threw her arms round her lover's neck. "Give it up, Jack! For my sake, for God's sake, give it up! It was to ask you that I came here to-day. Oh, Jack, see--I beg it of you on my bended knees! Kneeling here before you I implore you to give it up!"
He raised her and soothed her with her head against his breast.
"Sure, my darlin', you don't know what it is you are asking. How could I give it up when it would be to break my oath and to desert my comrades? If you could see how things stand with me you could never ask it of me. Besides, if I wanted to, how could I do it? You don't suppose that the lodge would let a man go free with all its secrets?"
"I've thought of that, Jack. I've planned it all. Father has saved some money. He is weary of this place where the fear of these people darkens our lives. He is ready to go. We would fly together to Philadelphia or New York, where we would be safe from them."
McMurdo laughed. "The lodge has a long arm. Do you think it could not stretch from here to Philadelphia or New York?"
"Well, then, to the West, or to England, or to Germany, where father came from--anywhere to get away from this Valley of Fear!"
McMurdo thought of old Brother Morris. "Sure, it is the second time I have heard the valley so named," said he. "The shadow does indeed seem to lie heavy on some of you."
"It darkens every moment of our lives. Do you suppose that Ted Baldwin has ever forgiven us? If it were not that he fears you, what do you suppose our chances would be? If you saw the look in those dark, hungry eyes of his when they fall on me!"
"By Gar! I'd teach him better manners if I caught him at it! But see here, little girl. I can't leave here. I can't--take that from me once and for all. But if you will leave me to find my own way, I will try to prepare a way of getting honourably out of it."
"There is no honour in such a matter."
"Well, well, it's just how you look at it. But if you'll give me six months, I'll work it so that I can leave without being ashamed to look others in the face."
The girl laughed with joy. "Six months!" she cried. "Is it a promise?"
"Well, it may be seven or eight. But within a year at the furthest we will leave the valley behind us."
It was the most that Ettie could obtain, and yet it was something. There was this distant light to illuminate the gloom of the immediate future. She returned to her father's house more light-hearted than she had ever been since Jack McMurdo had come into her life.
It might be thought that as a member, all the doings of the society would be told to him; but he was soon to discover that the organization was wider and more complex than the simple lodge. Even Boss McGinty was ignorant as to many things; for there was an official named the County Delegate, living at Hobson's Patch farther down the line, who had power over several different lodges which he wielded in a sudden and arbitrary way. Only once did McMurdo see him, a sly, little gray-haired rat of a man, with a slinking gait and a sidelong glance which was charged with malice. Evans Pott was his name, and even the great Boss of Vermissa felt towards him something of the repulsion and fear which the huge Danton may have felt for the puny but dangerous Robespierre.
One day Scanlan, who was McMurdo's fellow boarder, received a note from McGinty inclosing one from Evans Pott, which informed him that he was sending over two good men, Lawler and Andrews, who had instructions to act in the neighbourhood; though it was best for the cause that no particulars as to their objects should be given. Would the Bodymaster see to it that suitable arrangements be made for their lodgings and comfort until the time for action should arrive? McGinty added that it was impossible for anyone to remain secret at the Union House, and that, therefore, he would be obliged if McMurdo and Scanlan would put the strangers up for a few days in their boarding house.
The same evening the two men arrived, each carrying his gripsack. Lawler was an elderly man, shrewd, silent, and self-contained, clad in an old black frock coat, which with his soft felt hat and ragged, grizzled beard gave him a general resemblance to an itinerant preacher. His companion Andrews was little more than a boy, frank-faced and cheerful, with the breezy manner of one who is out for a holiday and means to enjoy every minute of it. Both men were total abstainers, and behaved in all ways as exemplary members of the society, with the one simple exception that they were assassins who had often proved themselves to be most capable instruments for this association of murder. Lawler had already carried out fourteen commissions of the kind, and Andrews three.
They were, as McMurdo found, quite ready to converse about their deeds in the past, which they recounted with the half-bashful pride of men who had done good and unselfish service for the community. They were reticent, however, as to the immediate job in hand.
"They chose us because neither I nor the boy here drink," Lawler explained. "They can count on us saying no more than we should. You must not take it amiss, but it is the orders of the County Delegate that we obey."
"Sure, we are all in it together," said Scanlan, McMurdo's mate, as the four sat together at supper.
"That's true enough, and we'll talk till the cows come home of the killing of Charlie Williams or of Simon Bird, or any other job in the past. But till the work is done we say nothing."
"There are half a dozen about here that I have a word to say to," said McMurdo, with an oath. "I suppose it isn't Jack Knox of Ironhill that you are after. I'd go some way to see him get his deserts."
"No, it's not him yet."
"Or Herman Strauss?"
"No, nor him either."
"Well, if you won't tell us we can't make you; but I'd be glad to know."
Lawler smiled and shook his head. He was not to be drawn.
In spite of the reticence of their guests, Scanlan and McMurdo were quite determined to be present at what they called "the fun." When, therefore, at an early hour one morning McMurdo heard them creeping down the stairs he awakened Scanlan, and the two hurried on their clothes. When they were dressed they found that the others had stolen out, leaving the door open behind them. It was not yet dawn, and by the light of the lamps they could see the two men some distance down the street. They followed them warily, treading noiselessly in the deep snow.
The boarding house was near the edge of the town, and soon they were at the crossroads which is beyond its boundary. Here three men were waiting, with whom Lawler and Andrews held a short, eager conversation. Then they all moved on together. It was clearly some notable job which needed numbers. At this point there are several trails which lead to various mines. The strangers took that which led to the Crow Hill, a huge business which was in strong hands which had been able, thanks to their energetic and fearless New England manager, Josiah H. Dunn, to keep some order and discipline during the long reign of terror.
Day was breaking now, and a line of workmen were slowly making their way, singly and in groups, along the blackened path.
McMurdo and Scanlan strolled on with the others, keeping in sight of the men whom they followed. A thick mist lay over them, and from the heart of it there came the sudden scream of a steam whistle. It was the ten-minute signal before the cages descended and the day's labour began.
When they reached the open space round the mine shaft there were a hundred miners waiting, stamping their feet and blowing on their fingers; for it was bitterly cold. The strangers stood in a little group under the shadow of the engine house. Scanlan and McMurdo climbed a heap of slag from which the whole scene lay before them. They saw the mine engineer, a great bearded Scotchman named Menzies, come out of the engine house and blow his whistle for the cages to be lowered.
At the same instant a tall, loose-framed young man with a clean-shaved, earnest face advanced eagerly towards the pit head. As he came forward his eyes fell upon the group, silent and motionless, under the engine house. The men had drawn down their hats and turned up their collars to screen their faces. For a moment the presentiment of Death laid its cold hand upon the manager's heart. At the next he had shaken it off and saw only his duty towards intrusive strangers.
"Who are you?" he asked as he advanced. "What are you loitering there for?"
There was no answer; but the lad Andrews stepped forward and shot him in the stomach. The hundred waiting miners stood as motionless and helpless as if they were paralyzed. The manager clapped his two hands to the wound and doubled himself up. Then he staggered away; but another of the assassins fired, and he went down sidewise, kicking and clawing among a heap of clinkers. Menzies, the Scotchman, gave a roar of rage at the sight and rushed with an iron spanner at the murderers; but was met by two balls in the face which dropped him dead at their very feet.
There was a surge forward of some of the miners, and an inarticulate cry of pity and of anger; but a couple of the strangers emptied their six-shooters over the heads of the crowd, and they broke and scattered, some of them rushing wildly back to their homes in Vermissa.
When a few of the bravest had rallied, and there was a return to the mine, the murderous gang had vanished in the mists of morning, without a single witness being able to swear to the identity of these men who in front of a hundred spectators had wrought this double crime.
Scanlan and McMurdo made their way back; Scanlan somewhat subdued, for it was the first murder job that he had seen with his own eyes, and it appeared less funny than he had been led to believe. The horrible screams of the dead manager's wife pursued them as they hurried to the town. McMurdo was absorbed and silent; but he showed no sympathy for the weakening of his companion.
"Sure, it is like a war," he repeated. "What is it but a war between us and them, and we hit back where we best can."
There was high revel in the lodge room at the Union House that night, not only over the killing of the manager and engineer of the Crow Hill mine, which would bring this organization into line with the other blackmailed and terror-stricken companies of the district, but also over a distant triumph which had been wrought by the hands of the lodge itself.
It would appear that when the County Delegate had sent over five good men to strike a blow in Vermissa, he had demanded that in return three Vermissa men should be secretly selected and sent across to kill William Hales of Stake Royal, one of the best known and most popular mine owners in the Gilmerton district, a man who was believed not to have an enemy in the world; for he was in all ways a model employer. He had insisted, however, upon efficiency in the work, and had, therefore, paid off certain drunken and idle employees who were members of the all-powerful society. Coffin notices hung outside his door had not weakened his resolution, and so in a free, civilized country he found himself condemned to death.
The execution had now been duly carried out. Ted Baldwin, who sprawled now in the seat of honour beside the Bodymaster, had been chief of the party. His flushed face and glazed, bloodshot eyes told of sleeplessness and drink. He and his two comrades had spent the night before among the mountains. They were unkempt and weather-stained. But no heroes, returning from a forlorn hope, could have had a warmer welcome from their comrades.
The story was told and retold amid cries of delight and shouts of laughter. They had waited for their man as he drove home at nightfall, taking their station at the top of a steep hill, where his horse must be at a walk. He was so furred to keep out the cold that he could not lay his hand on his pistol. They had pulled him out and shot him again and again. He had screamed for mercy. The screams were repeated for the amusement of the lodge.
"Let's hear again how he squealed," they cried.
None of them knew the man; but there is eternal drama in a killing, and they had shown the Scowrers of Gilmerton that the Vermissa men were to be relied upon.
There had been one contretemps; for a man and his wife had driven up while they were still emptying their revolvers into the silent body. It had been suggested that they should shoot them both; but they were harmless folk who were not connected with the mines, so they were sternly bidden to drive on and keep silent, lest a worse thing befall them. And so the blood-mottled figure had been left as a warning to all such hard-hearted employers, and the three noble avengers had hurried off into the mountains where unbroken nature comes down to the very edge of the furnaces and the slag heaps. Here they were, safe and sound, their work well done, and the plaudits of their companions in their ears.
It had been a great day for the Scowrers. The shadow had fallen even darker over the valley. But as the wise general chooses the moment of victory in which to redouble his efforts, so that his foes may have no time to steady themselves after disaster, so Boss McGinty, looking out upon the scene of his operations with his brooding and malicious eyes, had devised a new attack upon those who opposed him. That very night, as the half-drunken company broke up, he touched McMurdo on the arm and led him aside into that inner room where they had their first interview.
"See here, my lad," said he, "I've got a job that's worthy of you at last. You'll have the doing of it in your own hands."
"Proud I am to hear it," McMurdo answered.
"You can take two men with you--Manders and Reilly. They have been warned for service. We'll never be right in this district until Chester Wilcox has been settled, and you'll have the thanks of every lodge in the coal fields if you can down him."
"I'll do my best, anyhow. Who is he, and where shall I find him?"
McGinty took his eternal half-chewed, half-smoked cigar from the corner of his mouth, and proceeded to draw a rough diagram on a page torn from his notebook.
"He's the chief foreman of the Iron Dike Company. He's a hard citizen, an old colour sergeant of the war, all scars and grizzle. We've had two tries at him; but had no luck, and Jim Carnaway lost his life over it. Now it's for you to take it over. That's the house--all alone at the Iron Dike crossroad, same as you see here on the map--without another within earshot. It's no good by day. He's armed and shoots quick and straight, with no questions asked. But at night--well, there he is with his wife, three children, and a hired help. You can't pick or choose. It's all or none. If you could get a bag of blasting powder at the front door with a slow match to it--"
"What's the man done?"
"Didn't I tell you he shot Jim Carnaway?"
"Why did he shoot him?"
"What in thunder has that to do with you? Carnaway was about his house at night, and he shot him. That's enough for me and you. You've got to settle the thing right."
"There's these two women and the children. Do they go up too?"
"They have to--else how can we get him?"
"It seems hard on them; for they've done nothing."
"What sort of fool's talk is this? Do you back out?"
"Easy, Councillor, easy! What have I ever said or done that you should think I would be after standing back from an order of the Bodymaster of my own lodge? If it's right or if it's wrong, it's for you to decide."
"You'll do it, then?"
"Of course I will do it."
"When?"
"Well, you had best give me a night or two that I may see the house and make my plans. Then--"
"Very good," said McGinty, shaking him by the hand. "I leave it with you. It will be a great day when you bring us the news. It's just the last stroke that will bring them all to their knees."
McMurdo thought long and deeply over the commission which had been so suddenly placed in his hands. The isolated house in which Chester Wilcox lived was about five miles off in an adjacent valley. That very night he started off all alone to prepare for the attempt. It was daylight before he returned from his reconnaissance. Next day he interviewed his two subordinates, Manders and Reilly, reckless youngsters who were as elated as if it were a deer-hunt.
Two nights later they met outside the town, all three armed, and one of them carrying a sack stuffed with the powder which was used in the quarries. It was two in the morning before they came to the lonely house. The night was a windy one, with broken clouds drifting swiftly across the face of a three-quarter moon. They had been warned to be on their guard against bloodhounds; so they moved forward cautiously, with their pistols cocked in their hands. But there was no sound save the howling of the wind, and no movement but the swaying branches above them.
McMurdo listened at the door of the lonely house; but all was still within. Then he leaned the powder bag against it, ripped a hole in it with his knife, and attached the fuse. When it was well alight he and his two companions took to their heels, and were some distance off, safe and snug in a sheltering ditch, before the shattering roar of the explosion, with the low, deep rumble of the collapsing building, told them that their work was done. No cleaner job had ever been carried out in the bloodstained annals of the society.
But alas that work so well organized and boldly carried out should all have gone for nothing! Warned by the fate of the various victims, and knowing that he was marked down for destruction, Chester Wilcox had moved himself and his family only the day before to some safer and less known quarters, where a guard of police should watch over them. It was an empty house which had been torn down by the gunpowder, and the grim old colour sergeant of the war was still teaching discipline to the miners of Iron Dike.
"Leave him to me," said McMurdo. "He's my man, and I'll get him sure if I have to wait a year for him."
A vote of thanks and confidence was passed in full lodge, and so for the time the matter ended. When a few weeks later it was reported in the papers that Wilcox had been shot at from an ambuscade, it was an open secret that McMurdo was still at work upon his unfinished job.
Such were the methods of the Society of Freemen, and such were the deeds of the Scowrers by which they spread their rule of fear over the great and rich district which was for so long a period haunted by their terrible presence. Why should these pages be stained by further crimes? Have I not said enough to show the men and their methods?
These deeds are written in history, and there are records wherein one may read the details of them. There one may learn of the shooting of Policemen Hunt and Evans because they had ventured to arrest two members of the society--a double outrage planned at the Vermissa lodge and carried out in cold blood upon two helpless and disarmed men. There also one may read of the shooting of Mrs. Larbey when she was nursing her husband, who had been beaten almost to death by orders of Boss McGinty. The killing of the elder Jenkins, shortly followed by that of his brother, the mutilation of James Murdoch, the blowing up of the Staphouse family, and the murder of the Stendals all followed hard upon one another in the same terrible winter.
Darkly the shadow lay upon the Valley of Fear. The spring had come with running brooks and blossoming trees. There was hope for all Nature bound so long in an iron grip; but nowhere was there any hope for the men and women who lived under the yoke of the terror. Never had the cloud above them been so dark and hopeless as in the early summer of the year 1875.
杰克•麦克默多自从被捕和无罪释放以后，在他那一伙人中，声名大噪。一个人在入会的当夜就干了一些事，使他在法官面前受审，在这个社团是史无前例的。他已赢得很高的声望，人们认为他是一个好酒友，兴致很高的狂欢者，性情高傲，绝不肯受人侮辱，即便对具有无上权威的首领本人，他也绝不让步。可是除此之外，他还给同伙留下了很深的印象：大家认为，在全分会，没有一个人的头脑能象他那样转眼就能想出一个嗜血成性的阴谋诡计，也没有一个人的手能象他那样把阴谋诡计付诸实施。“他一定是一个手脚利落的家伙，"那些老家伙们议论道，他们等待着时机，让麦克默多开始大显身手。
麦金蒂手中已有足够的役使工具，可是他认为麦克默多是一个最有才干的人，他觉得自己好象一个主人用品带系住一条凶残嗜血的猎犬，用一些劣种狗去做小事，但总有一天要放开这个凶兽去捕食。少数会员，其中也有鲍德温，对这个外来人升得很快深感不满，甚至怀恨在心，可是他们却回避他，因为麦克默多就象轻易笑闹一样随时可以和人决斗。
不过，假如说麦克默多在党羽中赢得了荣誉，而他却失去了另外一个、甚至是对他更重要的方面，那就是伊蒂•谢夫特的父亲从此不再和他打交道，也不许他上门。伊蒂深深沉缅于对麦克默多的爱情之中，但她善良的心性却也觉得，倘若和一个暴徒结婚，很难料想后果如何。
一天夜晚，伊蒂辗转反侧，彻夜未眠。早晨，她决心去看望麦克默多，她想或许这是最后一次和他见面了 ，要尽最大努力把他从那些拉他下水的恶势力下挽救出来。因为麦克默多经常求她到他家中去，她便向麦克默多家走来，径直奔向他的起居室。麦克默多正坐在桌前，背对着门口，面前放着一封信。年方十九的伊蒂，陡然闪过一个女孩子的顽皮念头。伊蒂轻轻把门推开，见麦克默多丝毫没有察觉，便蹑手蹑脚地悄悄走向前去，把手轻轻放在他的肩上。
伊蒂本想吓一吓麦克默多，这一着肯定办到了；但没有料到自己也受到惊吓。麦克默多象老虎一般反身一跃而起，把右手扼到伊蒂咽喉上。与此同时，左手把他面前放的信揉成一团。一时间他怒目横眉地站在那里。可是，定睛一看，不由惊喜交加，马上收敛其他那凶恶的面容。伊蒂已被吓得向后退缩，因为在她那平静文雅的生活中还从未碰到过这样的事。
“原来是你呀！"麦克默多擦去额上的冷汗，说道，“没有想到是你来，我亲爱的，我差点没把你扼死。来吧，亲爱的，"麦克默多伸出双手说道，“让我来向你赔礼。”
伊蒂突然从麦克默多的表情上看出，他是因犯罪而惊恐。这使她惊魂未定。她那妇女的本能告诉自己，麦克默多决不是徒然受惊才吓成这个样子。他是犯罪——就是这个问题——是因犯罪而惊恐！
“你出了什么事？杰克，"伊蒂高声说道，“为什么我把你吓成这样？噢，杰克，假如你问心无愧的话，那你决不会这样看着我的！”
“不错，我正在想别的事情，所以你那么婀娜轻盈地走进来……”
“不，不，决不仅是这样，杰克，"伊蒂突然产生了怀疑，“让我看看你写的那封信。”
“啊，伊蒂。我不能给你看。”
伊蒂更加怀疑了。
“那是给另一个女人写的，"她叫嚷道，“我知道了！你为什么不让我看？那是给你妻子写的信吧？我怎能确定你是一个未婚男子呢？你是一个外来人，没有一个人了解你。”
“我没有结过婚，伊蒂。瞧，我现在发誓！你是世上我唯一爱的女子。我对耶稣的十字架发誓！”
麦克默多面色苍白，激动恳挚地辩白说，伊蒂只得相信他。
“好，那么，"伊蒂说道，“你为什么不愿让我看那封信呢？”
“我告诉你说，我亲爱的，"麦克默多说道，“我曾宣誓不给别人看这封信，正象我不会破坏我对你发过的誓言一样。因此，我要对接受我誓言的人守信用。这是会里的事务，即使对你也要保守秘密。当你把一只手放到我肩上时，我之所以受到惊吓，因为这可能是一只侦探的手啊，难道连这你还不明白吗？”
伊蒂觉得他说的都是实话。麦克默多把她抱在怀里亲吻，来驱散她的惊恐和怀疑。
“那么，请坐在我身旁。这是王后的奇异宝座，不过这已是你贫穷的情人所能给你的最好的东西了。我想，将来总有一天他会让你得到幸福的。现在你精神好一点了吗？”
“当我知道你是罪犯中的一员时，当我不晓得哪一天会听到法庭审理你的杀人案件时，我的精神怎么能有一时期刻的安宁呢？昨天，我们的一个房客这样称呼你，说什么'麦克默多这个死酷党人'。这简直象一把刀子扎到我心里一样啊！”
“确实，让他们说去好了，没什么了不起。”
“可是他们说的是实话。”
“好，亲爱的，事情不是象你想得那么坏。我们不过是一些穷人，试图用我们的手段，争取我们的权力罢了。”
伊蒂双臂搂住她情人的颈项。"放弃它吧！杰克，为了我，为了上帝，放弃它吧！今天我就是为了求你才到这儿来的。噢，杰克，看，我跪下来求求你！我跪在你面前恳求你放弃它！”
麦克默多抱起伊蒂，把她的头放在胸前，抚慰她道：“当然，我亲爱的，你不知道你的要求意味着什么。如果意味着破坏我的誓言，背离我的同伙，我怎么能放弃它呢？假如你能明白我干的是什么事，你就不会向我要求这个了。再说，即使我想这样做，我又怎能做得到呢？你不想一想，死酷党能容许一个人携带它的一切秘密随便走掉吗？”
“我想到这点了，杰克。我完全计划好了。父亲储蓄了一些钱。他早已厌倦了这个地方，在这里那些人的恐怖行为使我们的生活暗淡无光。父亲已经准备离开。我们一起逃往费城，或是去纽约，到那里我们就安全了，不必再怕他们。”
麦克默多笑了笑，说道：“这个会党手伸得很长。你以为它不能从这里伸到费城或纽约去吗？”
“好，那么，我们去西方，或是去英国，或是去德国，爸爸就是那里人。只要离开这'恐怖谷'，到哪里都行。”
麦克默多想到了老莫里斯兄弟。
“真的，我听到这样称呼这座山谷，这已是第二次了，"麦克默多说道，“这阴霾看来确实压在你们许多人头上。”
“它无时无刻不使我们的生活惨淡无光。你想特德•鲍德温会宽恕我们吗？假如不是他怕你，你想我们的运气会怎么样？你只要看看他望着我时的那种如饥似渴的眼光就够了！”
“皇天在上！假如我再碰到他这样，一定要好好教训教训他。不过，小姑娘，我不能离开这里。我不能。请彻底相信我的话吧。不过只要你让我自己去想办法，我一定会找到体面的出路的。”
“干这样的事是不体面的。”
“好，好，这不过是你的看法。可是只要你给我六个月的时间，我可以做到使我离开这里时毫不愧对于人。”
姑娘高兴得笑了。
“六个月！"她大声说道，“这是你的诺言吗？”
“对，也可能七个月或八个月。可是最多不过一年，我们就可以离开这个山谷了。”
伊蒂所能得到的莫过这些了，但这些却很重要。这隐隐的一丝曙光，就把将来的一切阴霾一驱而尽。她满心轻松愉快地回到父亲家中。自从杰克•麦克默多闯入她的生活以来，她还从未有过这种心情。
也许有人以为，死酷党所做所为全都会让它的党徒知道的，可是他很快就会发现这个组织比一般简单的分会要广泛、复杂得多。即使身主麦金蒂对许多事也一无所知。因为有一个称为县代表的官员，住在离市中心很远的霍布森领地，他用出人意外而又专横的手段行使权力，统治着各个不同的分会。麦克默多仅仅看到过他一次，这是一个狡诈的人，头发有点发灰，行动鬼鬼祟祟，活象一只耗子，总是充满恶意地斜眼看人。此人名叫伊万斯•波特。甚至维尔米萨的大头目在他面前也感到有些畏惧。如同非凡的丹东在凶险的罗伯斯比尔面前①②感到软弱无力一样。
①丹东（Danton 1759——1794）十八世纪末法国资产阶级革命的著名活动家、律师。他说过：“为了战胜敌人，必须勇敢，勇敢，还要勇敢。"后丹东及其附和者实质上变成了反革命政党，1794年4月5日被革命法庭判处死刑。——译者注
②罗伯斯比尔（Robespierre 1758——1794）十八世纪末法国资产阶级革命的著名活动家。雅各宾派专政（1793年6月——1794年7月）的革命政府首脑。——译者注
一天，麦克默多同寓的伙伴斯坎伦收到麦金蒂的一封便笺，里面附有伊万斯•波特写来的信，信上通知说，将派两名得力人员——劳勒和安德鲁斯——到邻区行事，而对他们行事的对象，就不做详细说明了。身主是否可以给他们安徘适当住处？麦金蒂写道，在工会里任何人都无法保守秘密，因此，他责成麦克默多和斯坎伦把这两个来人安排在他们寓所住几天。
就在当天夜晚，这两个人来了，每个人带着一个手提包。劳勒年龄较大，是一个精明人，沉默寡言，比较稳重，身着一件旧礼服大衣，戴一顶软毡帽，乱蓬蓬的灰白胡子，使人感到他是一个巡回传教士。他的伙伴安德鲁斯是一个半大的孩子，面容坦率，性情开朗，举止轻快活泼，好象一个人出来欢度假期，准备不放过一分钟地尽情欢乐似的。两个人都绝不饮酒，从各方面看都是地地道道的党徒。他们是这个杀人协会的得力工具和杀人凶手。劳勒已经干过十四次这类犯罪活动，安德鲁斯也杀过三次人了。
麦克默多发现，他们很乐意谈自己过去的作为，讲起来颇为得意，带着为社团立下过汗马功劳的骄傲神情。但对目前要执行的任务却守口如瓶。
“他们选派我们来是因为我和这个孩子都不饮酒，"劳勒解释说，“他们相信我们不会说出我们不应该说的。这是县代表的命令，我们必须服从。请你们不要见怪。”
“当然了，我们都是同党，"麦克默多的同宿人斯坎伦说道，这时四人坐下共进晚餐。
“这是实话，我们可以毫无限制地谈论如何杀死查利•威廉斯，或者如何杀死西蒙•伯德，以及过去的其他案子。可是在我们这件事未得手之前，我们什么也不能谈。”
“这里有六七个人，我要教训他们，"麦克默多咒骂道，“我猜，你们是不是追踪铁山的杰克•诺克斯？我认为他应该得到惩罚。”
“不，还不是他。”
“要不然是赫尔曼•斯特劳斯？”
“不，也不是他。”
“好，如果你们不肯说，我们也不勉强，可是我很愿意知道。”
劳勒摇头微笑。他是坚决不肯开口了。
尽管他俩缄默不言，斯坎伦和麦克默多却决定参加他们所说的"游戏"。所以，一天清晨，麦克默多听到他们蹑手蹑脚地下了楼，便把斯坎伦叫醒，急忙穿上衣服。这时房门大开，天还没亮，他们借助灯光，看到那两个人已经走到街上，麦克默多和斯坎伦便小心翼翼地尾随踏雪而行。
他们的寓所靠近镇边，那两个人很快走到镇外边十字路口。另有三人早在那里等候，劳勒和安德鲁斯与他们匆匆说了几句话，便一同走了。可想而知，一定是有重大的事情，所以要用这么多人。有几条小径通往各个矿场，这些人走上一条通往克劳山去的小路。那里的矿场掌握在一个极有气力、精明能干的人手中，由于这个英国经理乔塞亚•邓恩精力旺盛、不惧邪恶，所以长期以来，尽管恐怖笼罩着山谷，这里却依然纪律严明，秩序井然。
天色已经大亮，工人们慢慢上路，有的独自一人，有的三五成群，沿着踩黑了的小路走去。
麦克默多和斯坎伦混在人群中慢步走去，始终保持能望到他们所尾随的人。一股浓烟升起，随着是一阵汽笛的刺耳尖叫声。这是开工信号，十分钟以后，罐笼就要降下去，劳动也就开始了。
他们来到矿井周围空旷的地方，已经有上百名矿工等在那里，因为天气严寒，他们不住跺脚，向手上呵气。这几个陌生人站在机房附近。斯坎伦和麦克默多登上一堆煤渣，可以从此处望到全景。他们看到矿务技师，这位叫做孟席斯的大胡子苏格兰人，从机房走出来，吹响哨子，指挥罐笼降下去。
这时，一个身体颀长、面容诚恳、脸刮得光光的年轻人，向矿井前走去。在他走过来时，一眼看到机房旁那伙默不作声、站着不动的人，这伙人把帽子戴得很低，竖起大衣领子遮着脸。一瞬间这个经理预感到死神把它冷酷的手抚到他的心上，但他不顾一切，只顾恪尽职责，要去驱逐这几个闯来的陌生人。
“你们是什么人？"他一面向前走，一面问道，“你们在这里游荡什么？”
没有一个人回答他，可是少年安德鲁斯走上前去，一枪射中他的肚子。这上百名等候上工的矿工一动也不动，手足无措地站在那里，似乎已被吓得目瞪口呆。这个经理双手捂住伤口，弯下身子，摇摇晃晃地走向一旁，可是另一个凶手又开了枪，他便倒在地上，在一堆渣块间挣扎性命了。那个苏格兰人孟席斯见了，大吼一声，举起一根大铁扳手向凶手们打去，可是他脸上立刻中了两枪，也倒在凶手脚旁死去。
这时一阵哗乱，一些矿工涌向前来，可是两个陌生人向众人头上连发数枪，于是人群溃散开来，一些人径直跑回维尔米萨自己家中去了。
只有少数最胆大的人重新聚在一起，又返回矿山来。这伙杀人犯已经消逝在清晨的薄雾中，他们虽然当着上百名旁观者的面杀害了两条性命，却没有留下一点证据。
斯坎伦和麦克默多转回家去。斯坎伦心情懊丧，因为这还是他第一次亲眼目睹杀人行凶，而且不象人家让他相信的那样，是一种"游戏"。在他们赶回镇内时，被害经理的妻子可怕的哭叫声一直萦绕在他们耳边。麦克默多受到很大震动，一言不发，不过他看到同伴如此懦弱，却也不以为然。
“真的，这象是一场战争，"麦克默多重复说道，“我们和他们之间不是战争是什么呢？不管在什么地方，只要能回击就向他们回击。”
这天夜晚，工会大楼中分会办公室里大肆狂欢，不仅庆祝刺杀克劳山煤矿经理和技师的胜利，这场胜利使该会党对被勒索和吓昏了的公司可以为所欲为；而且还庆祝分会本身多年来取得的胜利。
在县代表派五名得力人手到维尔米萨来行刺时，他要求，维尔米萨秘密选派三个人去杀害斯特克罗亚尔市的威廉•黑尔斯作为酬谢。黑尔斯是吉尔默敦地区的一个人所共知、受人爱戴的矿产主。他深信他在世上没有敌人，因为不管从哪方面看他都是一个模范的雇主。但是，他在工作中很讲求效率，曾把一些酗酒闹事、游手好闲的雇员辞退了，而他们正是具有无上权势的死酷党的党员。即使死亡威胁着他，也不能动摇他的决心。而在一个自由文明的国家里，他却被人杀害了。
他们杀人以后，特德•鲍德温摊开四肢，半躺在身主旁边的荣誉席上，他是这一组人的头目。他那绯红的面孔以及呆滞、充满血丝的双眼说明他没有睡觉和饮酒过量。头一天他和两个同伙在山中过了一夜。他们不修边幅，疲惫不堪。可是没有哪些从敢死队回来的英雄，能象他们那样得到同伙这样热烈的欢迎。
他们兴高采烈地一遍又一遍讲说他们的杰作，伴随而来的是兴奋的叫喊声、狂笑声。他们在陡峭的山顶上隐藏起来，守候他们准备杀害的人黄昏回家，他们知道，这个人一定会让他的马在这里缓辔而行。因为天气严寒，被害者穿着毛皮衣服，以至未来得及掏出手枪。他们把他拉下马来，一连打了他好几枪。他曾高声求饶。这求饶声被死酷党人翻来覆去说着当作笑料。
“让我们再听听他怎样惨叫，"这些匪徒们叫喊道。
他们谁也不认识这个人，可是这是杀人行乐的无穷无尽的戏剧性事件，他们是为了向吉尔默敦地区的死酷党人显示，自己是可以信赖的人。
还有一个意外事件，当他们把手中枪里的子弹都倾泻到这个僵卧的尸体上时，一对夫起正驱车来到这里。有人提议连这两个人一起干掉，可是这两个人与这矿山毫无关系，所以他们厉声命令这对夫岂不许声张，赶紧走开，以免遭到不幸。因此，那血肉模糊的尸体则被丢在那里，向那些铁硬心肠的矿主示警，而那三名杰出的复仇者则消逝在亘古未曾开拓的荒山僻壤之中。
他们得了手，在这里安全而稳妥，同党们的赞扬喝彩声不绝于耳。
这是死酷党人得意的日子，阴霾笼罩了全谷。可是正如一个足智多谋的将军选择了胜利的时机，可以加倍扩大战果，使敌军溃败后无暇整顿一样，首领麦金蒂阴险恶毒的双眼前浮现出一个作战方案，筹划新的诡计去谋害那些反对他的人。就在这天晚上，喝得半醉的党徒们走散以后，麦金蒂碰了碰麦克默多的胳臂，把他引到他们第一次见面的那间内室里。
“喂，我的伙计，"麦金蒂说道，“我终于给你找到了一件值得你干的差事。你可以亲手去完成它。”
“听到这我很感骄傲，"麦克默多答道。
“你可以带两个人和你一起去，这两个人是曼德斯和赖利。我已经吩咐过他们了。不除去切斯特•威尔科克斯，我们在这一地区就永远不能安心。假如你能把他干掉，你就能赢得产煤区每一分会的感谢。”
“无论如何，我一定尽力去做。他是谁？我在哪里可以找到他？”
麦金蒂从嘴角拿开雪茄，从笔记本上撕下一张纸来，开始画一个草图。
“他是戴克钢铁公司的总领班，是个意志刚强的人，是战时的一个老海军陆战队上士，受过许多伤，头发灰白。我们曾两次去解决他，都没有成功，而吉姆•卡纳威反而丧失了性命。现在请你接着去完成它。这就是那所房子，孤零零地在戴克钢铁公司的十字路口，正象你在这张图上所看到的一样，没有人能听得到声音。白天去是不行的，他经常戒备着，射击得既快又准，而且连问也不问就开枪。可是在夜间——对，他和妻子、三个孩子和一个佣工住在那里。你要干就全干掉，无别的抉择。如果你把一包炸药放在前门，上面用一根慢慢引着的导火线……”
“这个人干了什么事？”
“我不是对你说过他枪杀了吉姆•卡纳威吗？”
“他为什么要枪杀吉姆呢？”
“这和你有什么关系呢？卡纳威夜里走到他房子附近，他就开枪打死了卡纳威。你我就谈到这里。你现在可以去把这事打点一下。”
“还有两个妇女和小孩。连他们也一起干掉吗？”
“也要干掉，不然我们怎样能干掉他呢？”
“他们并没有什么罪过，连他们一起干掉，似乎有些难以下手。”
“这话多么愚蠢？你变卦了吗？”
“慢着，参议员先生，别急！我什么时候说过或做过使你认为我不接受身主命令的事呢？不管是也好，非也好，反正由你来定就是了。”
“那么，你去完成它？”
“当然我去完成它了。”
“什么时候？”
“啊，你最好给我一两个晚上时间，我可以看看这所房子，拟定计划，然后……”
“太好了，"麦金蒂和他握手，说道，“我把这事交给你了。你把消息带回来时，我们就要很好庆祝。这正是最后的一着，使他们全都向我们屈膝。”
麦克默多突然接受这样的委托，不由久久地深思。切斯特•威尔科克斯居住的孤零零的房屋，在邻近的山谷里，离这里有五英里左右。就在这天夜晚，麦克默多独自一人去为暗杀活动做准备。他侦察完情况回来时，天色已经大亮。第二天他去看他的两个助手曼德斯和赖利，这是两个卤莽轻率的年轻人，他们兴高采烈，仿佛要去打围逐鹿一样。
两夜以后，他们在镇外相会，三个人都带了武器，其中一人带了一袋采石场用的炸药。他们来到这所孤零零的房前时，已是半夜两点钟。夜里风势迅猛，乱云急驰，半轮明月时隐时现。他们深恐有猎犬出来，十分小心地向前走去，手中的枪机头大张。可是只听疾风怒吼，别无声息，只见树枝摇曳，毫无动静。
麦克默多站在这所孤零零的房屋门外静听了一阵，里面寂静无声，便把炸药包放到门边，用小刀挖了一个小洞，点燃了导火索，和两个同伙走到远处安全地带，伏在沟里观看。炸药爆炸的轰鸣声以及房屋倒坍的低沉的隆隆声，说明他们已经完成了任务。在这个社团的血腥史上还从来不曾有过这么干净利落的杰作呢。
然而，可惜他们的精心策划和大胆执行都白费了！原来切斯特•威尔科克斯听到许多人被害的消息，知道死酷党人也要来谋害自己，就在前一天把家搬到比较安全而又无人知晓的地方去了。那里还有一队警察防守。炸药所炸毁的只是一所空房子，而这位刚毅坚强的老海军陆战队上士依然严格地管理戴克钢铁厂的矿工。
“待我来收拾他，"麦克默多说道，“把他交给我，即使我等他一年，也一定结果他。”
会里的人都对他表示感激和信任，于是这件事就暂时结束了。
几星期以后，报上报道说，威尔科克斯被人暗杀。而麦克默多在继续完成他未结束的工作，这已经是人所周知的了。
这就是自由人会所用的一些手法，这就是死酷党人的所作所为。他们对这一广袤富庶的地区施行着恐怖的统治，而由于存在着死酷党人的恐怖行动，长期以来，人们总是提心吊胆地生活着。为什么用这么多罪恶的事实来玷污这些纸张呢？难道我还没有完全说清这些人和他们的手法吗？
这些人的所作所为已经载入历史，人们可以从记载里看到详细情节。读者可以在那里看到，他们还枪杀警察亨特和伊万斯，因为他们竟斗胆逮捕过两个死酷党徒——这两件暴行是维尔米萨分会策划的，并且残忍地杀害了两名孤立无援手无寸铁的人；读者还可以读到，拉贝太太被枪杀，因为首领麦金蒂命人将她丈夫打得半死，她紧抱着丈夫不放；老詹金斯被害，不久他弟弟也惨遭杀害；詹姆斯•默多克被弄得肢体残废；斯塔普霍斯全家被炸；斯坦德鲁斯被谋杀；惨案一件接一件地发生在这恐怖的寒冬里。
阴霾暗无天日地笼罩着恐怖谷。春天来了，溪水潺潺，草木发芽。长时间受到束缚的大自然恢复了生气；可是生活在恐怖之中的男女却依然毫无希望。他们头上的阴云从未象一八七五年初夏那样黑暗而令人绝望。
Part 2 Chapter 6 Danger
It was the height of the reign of terror. McMurdo, who had already been appointed Inner Deacon, with every prospect of some day succeeding McGinty as Bodymaster, was now so necessary to the councils of his comrades that nothing was done without his help and advice. The more popular he became, however, with the Freemen, the blacker were the scowls which greeted him as he passed along the streets of Vermissa. In spite of their terror the citizens were taking heart to band themselves together against their oppressors. Rumours had reached the lodge of secret gatherings in the Herald office and of distribution of firearms among the law-abiding people. But McGinty and his men were undisturbed by such reports. They were numerous, resolute, and well armed. Their opponents were scattered and powerless. It would all end, as it had done in the past, in aimless talk and possibly in impotent arrests. So said McGinty, McMurdo, and all the bolder spirits.
It was a Saturday evening in May. Saturday was always the lodge night, and McMurdo was leaving his house to attend it when Morris, the weaker brother of the order, came to see him. His brow was creased with care, and his kindly face was drawn and haggard.
"Can I speak with you freely, Mr. McMurdo?"
"Sure."
"I can't forget that I spoke my heart to you once, and that you kept it to yourself, even though the Boss himself came to ask you about it."
"What else could I do if you trusted me? It wasn't that I agreed with what you said."
"I know that well. But you are the one that I can speak to and be safe. I've a secret here," he put his hand to his breast, "and it is just burning the life out of me. I wish it had come to any one of you but me. If I tell it, it will mean murder, for sure. If I don't, it may bring the end of us all. God help me, but I am near out of my wits over it!"
McMurdo looked at the man earnestly. He was trembling in every limb. He poured some whisky into a glass and handed it to him. "That's the physic for the likes of you," said he. "Now let me hear of it."
Morris drank, and his white face took a tinge of colour. "I can tell it to you all in one sentence," said he. "There's a detective on our trail."
McMurdo stared at him in astonishment. "Why, man, you're crazy," he said. "Isn't the place full of police and detectives and what harm did they ever do us?"
"No, no, it's no man of the district. As you say, we know them, and it is little that they can do. But you've heard of Pinkerton's?"
"I've read of some folk of that name."
"Well, you can take it from me you've no show when they are on your trail. It's not a take-it-or-miss-it government concern. It's a dead earnest business proposition that's out for results and keeps out till by hook or crook it gets them. If a Pinkerton man is deep in this business, we are all destroyed."
"We must kill him."
"Ah, it's the first thought that came to you! So it will be up at the lodge. Didn't I say to you that it would end in murder?"
"Sure, what is murder? Isn't it common enough in these parts?"
"It is, indeed; but it's not for me to point out the man that is to be murdered. I'd never rest easy again. And yet it's our own necks that may be at stake. In God's name what shall I do?" He rocked to and fro in his agony of indecision.
But his words had moved McMurdo deeply. It was easy to see that he shared the other's opinion as to the danger, and the need for meeting it. He gripped Morris's shoulder and shook him in his earnestness.
"See here, man," he cried, and he almost screeched the words in his excitement, "you won't gain anything by sitting keening like an old wife at a wake. Let's have the facts. Who is the fellow? Where is he? How did you hear of him? Why did you come to me?"
"I came to you; for you are the one man that would advise me. I told you that I had a store in the East before I came here. I left good friends behind me, and one of them is in the telegraph service. Here's a letter that I had from him yesterday. It's this part from the top of the page. You can read it yourself."
This was what McMurdo read:
How are the Scowrers getting on in your parts? We read plenty of them in the papers. Between you and me I expect to hear news from you before long. Five big corporations and the two railroads have taken the thing up in dead earnest. They mean it, and you can bet they'll get there! They are right deep down into it. Pinkerton has taken hold under their orders, and his best man, Birdy Edwards, is operating. The thing has got to be stopped right now.
"Now read the postscript."
Of course, what I give you is what I learned in business; so it goes no further. It's a queer cipher that you handle by the yard every day and can get no meaning from.
McMurdo sat in silence for some time, with the letter in his listless hands. The mist had lifted for a moment, and there was the abyss before him.
"Does anyone else know of this?" he asked.
"I have told no one else."
"But this man--your friend--has he any other person that he would be likely to write to?"
"Well, I dare say he knows one or two more."
"Of the lodge?"
"It's likely enough."
"I was asking because it is likely that he may have given some description of this fellow Birdy Edwards--then we could get on his trail."
"Well, it's possible. But I should not think he knew him. He is just telling me the news that came to him by way of business. How would he know this Pinkerton man?"
McMurdo gave a violent start.
"By Gar!" he cried, "I've got him. What a fool I was not to know it. Lord! but we're in luck! We will fix him before he can do any harm. See here, Morris, will you leave this thing in my hands?"
"Sure, if you will only take it off mine."
"I'll do that. You can stand right back and let me run it. Even your name need not be mentioned. I'll take it all on myself, as if it were to me that this letter has come. Will that content you?"
"It's just what I would ask."
"Then leave it at that and keep your head shut. Now I'll get down to the lodge, and we'll soon make old man Pinkerton sorry for himself."
"You wouldn't kill this man?"
"The less you know, Friend Morris, the easier your conscience will be, and the better you will sleep. Ask no questions, and let these things settle themselves. I have hold of it now."
Morris shook his head sadly as he left. "I feel that his blood is on my hands," he groaned.
"Self-protection is no murder, anyhow," said McMurdo, smiling grimly. "It's him or us. I guess this man would destroy us all if we left him long in the valley. Why, Brother Morris, we'll have to elect you Bodymaster yet; for you've surely saved the lodge."
And yet it was clear from his actions that he thought more seriously of this new intrusion than his words would show. It may have been his guilty conscience, it may have been the reputation of the Pinkerton organization, it may have been the knowledge that great, rich corporations had set themselves the task of clearing out the Scowrers; but, whatever his reason, his actions were those of a man who is preparing for the worst. Every paper which would incriminate him was destroyed before he left the house. After that he gave a long sigh of satisfaction; for it seemed to him that he was safe. And yet the danger must still have pressed somewhat upon him; for on his way to the lodge he stopped at old man Shafter's. The house was forbidden him; but when he tapped at the window Ettie came out to him. The dancing Irish deviltry had gone from her lover's eyes. She read his danger in his earnest face.
"Something has happened!" she cried. "Oh, Jack, you are in danger!"
"Sure, it is not very bad, my sweetheart. And yet it may be wise that we make a move before it is worse."
"Make a move?"
"I promised you once that I would go some day. I think the time is coming. I had news to-night, bad news, and I see trouble coming."
"The police?"
"Well, a Pinkerton. But, sure, you wouldn't know what that is, acushla, nor what it may mean to the likes of me. I'm too deep in this thing, and I may have to get out of it quick. You said you would come with me if I went."
"Oh, Jack, it would be the saving of you!"
"I'm an honest man in some things, Ettie. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your bonny head for all that the world can give, nor ever pull you down one inch from the golden throne above the clouds where I always see you. Would you trust me?"
She put her hand in his without a word. "Well, then, listen to what I say, and do as I order you, for indeed it's the only way for us. Things are going to happen in this valley. I feel it in my bones. There may be many of us that will have to look out for ourselves. I'm one, anyhow. If I go, by day or night, it's you that must come with me!"
"I'd come after you, Jack."
"No, no, you shall come WITH me. If this valley is closed to me and I can never come back, how can I leave you behind, and me perhaps in hiding from the police with never a chance of a message? It's with me you must come. I know a good woman in the place I come from, and it's there I'd leave you till we can get married. Will you come?"
"Yes, Jack, I will come."
"God bless you for your trust in me! It's a fiend out of hell that I should be if I abused it. Now, mark you, Ettie, it will be just a word to you, and when it reaches you, you will drop everything and come right down to the waiting room at the depot and stay there till I come for you."
"Day or night, I'll come at the word, Jack."
Somewhat eased in mind, now that his own preparations for escape had been begun, McMurdo went on to the lodge. It had already assembled, and only by complicated signs and countersigns could he pass through the outer guard and inner guard who close-tiled it. A buzz of pleasure and welcome greeted him as he entered. The long room was crowded, and through the haze of tobacco smoke he saw the tangled black mane of the Bodymaster, the cruel, unfriendly features of Baldwin, the vulture face of Harraway, the secretary, and a dozen more who were among the leaders of the lodge. He rejoiced that they should all be there to take counsel over his news.
"Indeed, it's glad we are to see you, Brother!" cried the chairman. "There's business here that wants a Solomon in judgment to set it right."
"It's Lander and Egan," explained his neighbour as he took his seat. "They both claim the head money given by the lodge for the shooting of old man Crabbe over at Stylestown, and who's to say which fired the bullet?"
McMurdo rose in his place and raised his hand. The expression of his face froze the attention of the audience. There was a dead hush of expectation.
"Eminent Bodymaster," he said, in a solemn voice, "I claim urgency!"
"Brother McMurdo claims urgency," said McGinty. "It's a claim that by the rules of this lodge takes precedence. Now Brother, we attend you."
McMurdo took the letter from his pocket.
"Eminent Bodymaster and Brethren," he said, "I am the bearer of ill news this day; but it is better that it should be known and discussed, than that a blow should fall upon us without warning which would destroy us all. I have information that the most powerful and richest organizations in this state have bound themselves together for our destruction, and that at this very moment there is a Pinkerton detective, one Birdy Edwards, at work in the valley collecting the evidence which may put a rope round the necks of many of us, and send every man in this room into a felon's cell. That is the situation for the discussion of which I have made a claim of urgency."
There was a dead silence in the room. It was broken by the chairman.
"What is your evidence for this, Brother McMurdo?" he asked.
"It is in this letter which has come into my hands," said McMurdo. Me read the passage aloud. "It is a matter of honour with me that I can give no further particulars about the letter, nor put it into your hands; but I assure you that there is nothing else in it which can affect the interests of the lodge. I put the case before you as it has reached me."
"Let me say, Mr. Chairman," said one of the older brethren, "that I have heard of Birdy Edwards, and that he has the name of being the best man in the Pinkerton service."
"Does anyone know him by sight?" asked McGinty.
"Yes," said McMurdo, "I do."
There was a murmur of astonishment through the hall.
"I believe we hold him in the hollow of our hands," he continued with an exulting smile upon his face. "If we act quickly and wisely, we can cut this thing short. If I have your confidence and your help, it is little that we have to fear."
"What have we to fear, anyhow? What can he know of our affairs?"
"You might say so if all were as stanch as you, Councillor. But this man has all the millions of the capitalists at his back. Do you think there is no weaker brother among all our lodges that could not be bought? He will get at our secrets--maybe has got them already. There's only one sure cure."
"That he never leaves the valley," said Baldwin.
McMurdo nodded. "Good for you, Brother Baldwin," he said. "You and I have had our differences, but you have said the true word to-night."
"Where is he, then? Where shall we know him?"
"Eminent Bodymaster," said McMurdo, earnestly, "I would put it to you that this is too vital a thing for us to discuss in open lodge. God forbid that I should throw a doubt on anyone here; but if so much as a word of gossip got to the ears of this man, there would be an end of any chance of our getting him. I would ask the lodge to choose a trusty committee, Mr. Chairman-- yourself, if I might suggest it, and Brother Baldwin here, and five more. Then I can talk freely of what I know and of what I advise should be done."
The proposition was at once adopted, and the committee chosen. Besides the chairman and Baldwin there were the vulture-faced secretary, Harraway, Tiger Cormac, the brutal young assassin, Carter, the treasurer, and the brothers Willaby, fearless and desperate men who would stick at nothing.
The usual revelry of the lodge was short and subdued: for there was a cloud upon the men's spirits, and many there for the first time began to see the cloud of avenging Law drifting up in that serene sky under which they had dwelt so long. The horrors they had dealt out to others had been so much a part of their settled lives that the thought of retribution had become a remote one, and so seemed the more startling now that it came so closely upon them. They broke up early and left their leaders to their council.
"Now, McMurdo!" said McGinty when they were alone. The seven men sat frozen in their seats.
"I said just now that I knew Birdy Edwards," McMurdo explained. "I need not tell you that he is not here under that name. He's a brave man, but not a crazy one. He passes under the name of Steve Wilson, and he is lodging at Hobson's Patch."
"How do you know this?"
"Because I fell into talk with him. I thought little of it at the time, nor would have given it a second thought but for this letter; but now I'm sure it's the man. I met him on the cars when I went down the line on Wednesday--a hard case if ever there was one. He said he was a reporter. I believed it for the moment. Wanted to know all he could about the Scowrers and what he called 'the outrages' for a New York paper. Asked me every kind of question so as to get something. You bet I was giving nothing away. 'I'd pay for it and pay well,' said he, 'if I could get some stuff that would suit my editor.' I said what I thought would please him best, and he handed me a twenty-dollar bill for my information. 'There's ten times that for you,' said he, 'if you can find me all that I want.'"
"What did you tell him, then?"
"Any stuff I could make up."
"How do you know he wasn't a newspaper man?"
"I'll tell you. He got out at Hobson's Patch, and so did I. I chanced into the telegraph bureau, and he was leaving it.
"'See here,' said the operator after he'd gone out, 'I guess we should charge double rates for this.'--'I guess you should,' said I. He had filled the form with stuff that might have been Chinese, for all we could make of it. 'He fires a sheet of this off every day,' said the clerk. 'Yes,' said I; 'it's special news for his paper, and he's scared that the others should tap it.' That was what the operator thought and what I thought at the time; but I think differently now."
"By Gar! I believe you are right," said McGinty. "But what do you allow that we should do about it?"
"Why not go right down now and fix him?" someone suggested.
"Ay, the sooner the better."
"I'd start this next minute if I knew where we could find him," said McMurdo. "He's in Hobson's Patch; but I don't know the house. I've got a plan, though, if you'll only take my advice."
"Well, what is it?"
"I'll go to the Patch to-morrow morning. I'll find him through the operator. He can locate him, I guess. Well, then I'll tell him that I'm a Freeman myself. I'll offer him all the secrets of the lodge for a price. You bet he'll tumble to it. I'll tell him the papers are at my house, and that it's as much as my life would be worth to let him come while folk were about. He'll see that that's horse sense. Let him come at ten o'clock at night, and he shall see everything. That will fetch him sure."
"Well?"
"You can plan the rest for yourselves. Widow MacNamara's is a lonely house. She's as true as steel and as deaf as a post. There's only Scanlan and me in the house. If I get his promise--and I'll let you know if I do--I'd have the whole seven of you come to me by nine o'clock. We'll get him in. If ever he gets out alive--well, he can talk of Birdy Edwards's luck for the rest of his days!"
"There's going to be a vacancy at Pinkerton's or I'm mistaken. Leave it at that, McMurdo. At nine to-morrow we'll be with you. You once get the door shut behind him, and you can leave the rest with us."
恐怖统治达到了顶峰。麦克默多已经被委任为会中的执事，大有希望日后继麦金蒂做身主的候选人，现在他的同伙都要征求他的意见，以致没有他的指点和协助，什么事也做不成。可是，他在自由人会中的名声愈大，当他在维尔米萨街上走过时，那些平民愈仇视他。他们不顾恐怖的威胁，决心联合起来共同反抗压其他们的人。死酷党听到传说：先驱报社有秘密集会，并向守法的平民分发武器。但麦金蒂和他手下的人对此却毫不介意。因为他们人数众多，胆大包天，武器精良；而对手却是一盘散沙，无权无势。结果一定象过去一样，只是漫无目标的空谈，多半是无能为力的罢手而已。这就是麦金蒂、麦克默多和那些勇敢分子们的说法。
党徒们经常在星期六晚上集会。五月里，一个星期六的晚上，麦克默多正要去赴会，被称为懦夫的莫里斯兄弟前来拜访他。莫里斯愁容满面，紧皱双眉，慈祥的面孔显得憔悴瘦长。
“我可以和你随便谈谈吗？麦克默多先生。”
“当然可以。”
“我从未忘记，有一次我曾向你说过心里话，甚至首领亲自来问你这件事，你也守口如瓶。”
“既然你信任我，我怎能不这样做呢？但这并不等于我同意你所说的话。”
“这点我是知道的。不过我只有对你才敢说心里话，而又不怕泄露。现在我有一件秘密，"他把手放在胸前，说道，“它使我心急如焚。我愿它施加于你们任何一个人身上，只希望我能幸免。假如我把它说出来，势必要出谋杀案件。如果我不说，那就可能招致我们全体覆灭。愿上帝救我，我简直不知如何是好了！”
麦克默多恳切地望着他，只见他四肢颤抖。麦克默多倒了一杯威士忌酒给他。
“这就是对你这样的人用的药品，"麦克默多说道，“现在请你告诉我吧。”
莫里斯把酒喝了，苍白的面容恢复了红润。"我可以只用一句话就向你说清楚。"他说道，“已经有侦探追查我们了。”
麦克默多惊愕地望着他。
“怎么？伙计，你疯了！"麦克默多说道，“这地方不是经常塞满警察和侦探吗？他们对我们又有什么损害呢？”
“不，不，这并不是本地人。正象你说的，那些本地人，我们都知道，他们是干不出什么名堂的，可是你听说过平克顿的侦探吗？”
“我听说过几个人的名字。”
“好，我可以告诉你，他们追查你时，你可不要不在意。那不是一家漫不经心的政府机构，而是一个十分认真的起业中的智囊，它决心要查个水落石出，不择手段地要搞出个结果来。假如一个平克顿的侦探要插手过问这件事，那我们就全毁了。”
“我们必须杀死他。”
“啊，你首先想到的就是这个！那就一定要在会上提出来了。我不是向你说过，结果会出谋杀案件吗？”
“当然了，杀人算什么？在此地不是极普通的事吗？”
“的确，是这样，可是我并没有想叫这个人被杀啊。我心里又将永远不能平静了。可是不然的话，我们自己的生命也是危险的。上帝啊，我怎么办呢？"他身体前后摇动，犹豫不决。
他的话使麦克默多深受感动。不难看出，麦克默多是同意莫里斯对危机的看法的，需要去应付它。麦克默多抚着莫里斯的肩膀，热情地摇摇他。
“喂，伙计，"麦克默多非常激动，几乎喊叫似地大声说道，
“你坐在这儿象老太太哭丧一样是毫无用处的。我们来摆摆情况。这个人是谁？他在哪里？你怎么听说到他的？为什么你来找我？”
“我来找你，因为唯有你能指教我。我曾对你说过，在我来这里以前，我在西部地方开过一家商店。那里有我一些好朋友。有一个朋友是在电报局工作的。这就是我昨天收到的信，是他写给我的。这一页顶上就写得很清楚，你自己可以把它念一下。”
麦克默多遂读道：
"你们那里的死酷党人现在怎么样了？在报上看到许多有关他们的报道。你知我知，我希望不久就得到你的消息。听说，有五家有限公司和两处铁路局十分认真地着手处理这件事。他们既然有这种打算，那你可以确信，他们一定要到那里去的。他们正直接插手。平克顿侦探公司已经奉命进行调查，其中的佼佼者伯尔弟•爱德华正在行动，这些罪恶的事情现在完全可以得到制止了。”
“请你把附言读一读。”
“当然，我所告诉你的，是我从日常业务工作中了解到的，所以不能再进一步说清楚了。他们使用的是奇怪的密码，我不懂他们的意思。”
麦克默多手里拿着这封信，无精打采地静坐了很久，一时间一团迷雾冉冉升起，在他面前呈现出万丈深渊。
“还有别的人知道这件事吗？"麦克默多问道。
“我没有告诉别的人。”
“不过这个人，你的朋友，会写信给别的人吗？”
“啊，我敢说他还认识一两个人。”
“是会里人吗？”
“很可能。”
“我所以要问这个，因为或者他可以把伯尔弟•爱德华这个人的形状介绍一下。那么我们就可以着手追寻他的行踪了。”
“啊，这倒可以。可是我不认为他认识爱德华。他告诉我这个消息，也是从日常业务中得到的，他怎么能认识这个平克顿的侦探呢？”
麦克默多猛然跳起来。
“天哪！"他喊道，“我一定要抓住他。我连这事都不知道，该是多么愚蠢哪！不过我们还算幸运！趁他还未能造成损害，我们可以先收拾他。喂，莫里斯，你愿意把这件事交给我去办吗？”
“当然了，只要你能不连累我就行。”
“我一定办这件事，你完全可撒手让我来办。我甚至用不着提你的名字，我一人作事一人当，就当作这封信是写给我的。这可使你满意了吧？”
“这样办正合我的心意。”
“那么，就谈到这里，你要保持缄默。现在我要到分会去，我们很快就可以让这个老平克顿侦探垂头丧气了。”
“你们不会杀死这个人吧？”
“莫里斯，我的朋友，你知道得越少，你越可以问心无愧。你最好去睡大觉，不要再多问了，让这件事听其自然吧。现在我来处理它。”
莫里斯走时，忧愁地摇了摇头，叹道：
“我觉得我的双手沾满了他的鲜血。”
“无论如何，自卫不能算是谋杀，"麦克默多狞笑道，“不是我们杀死他，就是他杀死我们。如果我们让他长久呆在山谷里，我想他会把我们一网打尽的。呃，莫里斯兄弟，我们还要选你做身主呢，因为你真正救了我们整个死酷党。”
然而从他的行动可以清楚地看出来，他虽然这么说，可是却十分认真地思考这件新获得的消息。可能他问心有愧；可能由于平克顿组织威名显赫；可能知道这些庞大而富有的有限公司自己动手清除死酷党人，不管他出于哪种考虑，他的行动说明他是从最坏处作准备的。在他离家以前，把凡是能把他牵连进刑事案件的片纸只字都销毁了。然后他才满意地出口长气，似乎觉得安全了。可是危险还压在他心上，因为在去分会途中，他又在老谢夫特家停了下来。谢夫特已经禁止麦克默多到他家去。可是麦克默多轻轻敲了敲窗户，伊蒂便出来迎接他。她情人双目中的残暴表情消逝了，但伊蒂从他严肃的脸上看到发生了什么危险的事。
“你一定出了什么事！"伊蒂高声喊道，“噢，杰克，你一定遇到了危险！”
“不错，我亲爱的，不过这并不是很坏的事。在事情没有恶化以前，我们把家搬一搬，那就是很明智的了。”
“搬家？”
“有一次我答应你，将来我要离开这里。我想这一天终于来到了。今晚我得到一个消息，是一个坏消息，我看麻烦事来了。”
“是警察吗？”
“对，是一个平克顿的侦探。不过，亲爱的，你不用打听到底是怎么回事，也不必知道这件事对我这样的人会怎么样。这件事与我关系太大了，但我很快就会摆脱它的。你说过，如果我离开这里，你要和我一起走。”
“啊，杰克，这会使你得救的。”
“我是一个诚实的人，伊蒂，我不会伤害你那美丽身躯的一根毫发。你仿佛坐在云端的黄金宝座上，我常常瞻望你的容颜，却决不肯从那里把你拖下一英寸来。你相信我吗？”
伊蒂默默无言地把手放在麦克默多的手掌中。
“好，那么，请你听我说，并且照我说的去做。因为这确实是我们唯一的生路。我确信，谷中将有大事发生。我们许多人都需要加以提防。无论如何，我是其中的一个。如果我离开这里，不论日夜，你都要和我一起走！”
“我一定随后就去，杰克。”
“不，不，你一定要和我一起走。如果我离开这个山谷，我就永远不能再回来，或许我要躲避警察耳目，连通信的机会也没有，我怎能把你丢下呢？你一定要和我一起走。我来的那地方有一个好女人，我把你安顿到那里，我们再结婚。你肯走吗？”
“好的，杰克，我随你走。”
“你这样相信我，上帝保佑你！如果我辜负了你的信任，那我就是一个从地狱里钻出来的魔鬼了。现在，伊蒂，请你注意，只要我带一个便笺给你，你接到它，就要抛弃一切，直接到车站候车室，在那里等候，我会来找你。”
“接到你写的便笺，不管白天晚上，我一定去，杰克。”
麦克默多作好了出走的准备工作，心情稍稍舒畅了些，便向分会走去。那里已经聚满了人。他回答了暗号，通过了戒备森严的外围警戒和内部警卫。麦克默多一走进来，便受到热烈的欢迎。长长的房屋挤满了人，他从烟雾之中看到了身主麦金蒂那乱成一团的又长又密的黑发，鲍德温凶残而不友好的表情，书记哈拉威那鹫鹰一样的脸孔，以及十几个分会中的领导人物。他很高兴，他们都在这里，可以商议一下他得来的消息。
“真的，我们看到你很高兴，兄弟！"身主麦金蒂高声喊道，
“这里正有一件事需要有一个所罗门作出公正的裁决呢。"①
①所罗门：（Solomon）古以色列王国国王大卫之子，以智慧著称。——译者注
“是兰德和伊根，"麦克默多坐下来，邻座的人向他解释说，“他们两个人去枪杀斯蒂列斯镇的克雷布老人，两个人都抢着要分会的赏金，你来说说究竟是谁开枪击中的？”
麦克默多从座位上站起来，把手举起，他面上的表情，使大家都吃惊地注意着他。出现一阵死一样的寂静，等待他讲话。
“可敬的身主，"麦克默多严肃地说道，“我有紧急的事报告！”
“既然麦克默多兄弟有紧急事报告，"麦金蒂说道，“按照会中规定，自然应该优先讨论。现在，兄弟，请你说吧。”
麦克默多从衣袋里拿出信来。
“可敬的身主和诸位弟兄，"麦克默多说道，“今天，我带来一个不幸的消息。不过我们事先知道并加以讨论，总比毫无戒备就被一网打尽要好得多。我得到通知说，国内那些最有钱有势的组织联合起来准备消灭我们，有一个平克顿的侦探，一个名叫伯尔弟•爱德华的人已来到这个山谷搜集证据，以便把绞索套到我们许多人的脖子上，并把在座的各位送进重罪犯牢房。所以我说有紧急事要报告，请大家讨论。”
室中顿时鸦雀无声，最后还是身主麦金蒂打破了沉寂。
“麦克默多兄弟，你有什么证据吗？"麦金蒂问道。
“我收到一封信，这些情况就在这封信里写着，"麦克默多说道。他高声把这一段话读了一遍，又说，“我要守信用，不能再把这封信的详细内容都读出来，也不能把信交到你们手里，但我敢向你们保证，信上再也没有与本会利益攸关的事了。我一接到信，立即前来向诸位报告这件事。”
“请允许我讲一讲，"一个年纪较大的弟兄说道，“我听说过伯尔弟•爱德华这个人，他是平克顿私家侦探公司里一个最有名片的侦探。”
“有人见过他吗？”
“是的，"麦克默多说道，“我见过他。”
室内顿时出现一阵惊诧的低语声。
“我相信他跑不出我们的手心，"麦克默多笑容满面，继续说道，“假如我们干得迅速而机智，很快就可以把这件事解决好。如果你们信得过我，再给我一些帮助，那我们就更没有什么可怕的了。”
“可是，我们怕什么呢？他怎么能知道我们的事呢？”
“参议员先生，如果大家都象你那样忠诚，你就可以这样说。可是这个人有那些资本家的百万资本做靠山。你难道以为我们会里就没有一个意志薄弱的弟兄可以被收买吗？他会弄到我们的秘密的——甚至可能已经把秘密弄到手了。现在只有一种可靠的对策。”
“那就是不叫他生离这山谷！"鲍德温说道。
麦克默多点点头。
“你说得好，鲍德温兄弟，"麦克默多说道，“你我过去往往意见不合，可是今晚你倒说对了。”
“那么，他在哪里呢？我们在哪里能见到他？”
“可敬的身主，"麦克默多热情洋溢地说道，“我要向你建议，这对我们是一件生死攸关的大事，不便在会上公开讨论。我并不是不信任在座的哪位弟兄。可是只要有只言片语传到那个侦探耳中，我们就会失掉抓到他的一切机会。我要求分会选择一些最可靠的人。假如我可以提议的话，参议员先生，你自己算一个，还有鲍德温兄弟，再找五个人。那么我就可以自由地发表我所知道的一切，也可以说一说我打算怎么做了。”
麦克默多的建议马上被采纳了。选出的人员除了麦金蒂和鲍德温以外，还有面如鹫鹰的书记哈拉威、老虎科马克、凶残的中年杀人凶手司库卡特和不顾生死的亡命徒威拉比两兄弟。
大家精神上仿佛笼罩了一片乌云，许多人头一次开始看到，在他们居住得那么久的地方，一片为被害者复仇的乌云——法律，弥漫在晴空。他们施加于他人的恐怖，过去被他们认为是远不会遭到报应的，现在却使他们大吃一惊，这种果报来得如此急迫，紧压在他们头上。所以党徒们例常的欢宴，这次却抑郁不欢，草草收场了。党徒们很早就走开了。只有他们的头领们留下议事。
“麦克默多，现在你说吧，"他们孤零零的七个人呆呆地坐在那里，麦金蒂说道。
“我刚才说过我认识伯尔弟•爱德华，"麦克默多解释说，
“我用不着告诉你们，你们就可想到，他在这里用的不是这个名字。他是一个勇敢的人，不是一个蠢才。他诡称名叫史蒂夫•威尔逊，住在霍布森领地。”
“你怎么知道的呢？”
“因为我和他讲过话。那时我没有想到这些，要不是收到这封信，我连想也不会再想这件事了。可是现在我深信这就是那个人了。星期三我有事到霍布森领地去，在车上遇到他。他说他是一个记者，那时我相信了他的话。他说他要为纽约一家报纸写稿，想知道有关死酷党人的一切情况，还要了解他所谓的'暴行'，他向我问了各种各样问题，打算弄到一些情况。你们可以相信，我什么也没有泄露。他说，‘如果我能得到对我编辑工作有用的材料，我愿出重金酬谢，'我拣我认为他最爱听的话说了一遍，他便付给我一张二十元纸币作酬金。他又说，'如果你能把我所需要的一切告诉给我，那我就再加十倍酬金。'”
“那么，你告诉他些什么？”
“我可以虚构出任何材料。”
“你怎么知道他不是一个报馆的人呢？”
“我可以告诉你们，他在霍布森领地下了车，我也随着下了车。我走进了电报局，他刚从那里离开。
“'喂，'在他走出去以后，报务员说道，‘这种电文，我想我们应当加倍收费才对。'我说，‘我想你们是应当加倍收的。'我们都觉得他填写的电报单象中文那么难懂。这个职员又说：'他每天都来发一份电报。'我说，‘对，这是他报纸的特别新闻，他怕别人知道。'这就是那时候那个报务员和我所想到的。可是现在我想的却截然不同了。”
“天哪！我相信你的话是真的，"麦金蒂说道，“可是你认为我们应该怎样对付这件事呢？”
“为什么不立刻去收拾他呢？"有一个党徒提议说。
“哎，不错，愈早愈好。”
“如果我知道他住在哪里，我就立刻这样去做了，"麦克默多说道，“我只知道他在霍布森领地，可不知道他的寓所。不过，只要你们接受我的建议，我倒有一个计划。”
“好，什么计划？”
“明天早晨我就到霍布森领地去，我通过报务员去找他。我想，他能打听出这个人的住处。好，那么，我可以告诉他我自己就是一个自由人会会员。我告诉他，只要他肯出高价，我就把分会的秘密告诉他。他一定会同意。那时我就告诉他，材料在我家里。因为到处都有人，不便让他白天到我家去。他自然知道这是一种起码的常识。我让他夜晚十点钟来我家看那些材料，那时我们一定可以抓住他了。”
“这样好吗？”
“其余的事，你们可以自己去筹划。寡妇麦克娜玛拉家是一座孤零零的住宅。她绝对可靠而且聋得象一根木桩。只有斯坎伦和我住在她寓所。假如他答应来的话，我就告诉你们，我会让你们七个人九点钟到我这里来。我们就把他搞进屋。假如他还能活着出去，嗯，那他后半辈子就可以大吹伯尔弟•爱德华的运气了。”
“这么说，平克顿侦探公司该有一个空缺了。要不，就是我弄错了，"麦金蒂说道，“就谈到这里吧，麦克默多。明天九点钟我们到你那儿去。他走进来以后，你只要把门关上，其它的事就由我们处理好了。”
Part 2 Chapter 7 The Trapping of Birdy Edwards
As McMurdo had said, the house in which he lived was a lonely one and very well suited for such a crime as they had planned. It was on the extreme fringe of the town and stood well back from the road. In any other case the conspirators would have simply called out their man, as they had many a time before, and emptied their pistols into his body; but in this instance it was very necessary to find out how much he knew, how he knew it, and what had been passed on to his employers.
It was possible that they were already too late and that the work had been done. If that was indeed so, they could at least have their revenge upon the man who had done it. But they were hopeful that nothing of great importance had yet come to the detective's knowledge, as otherwise, they argued, he would not have troubled to write down and forward such trivial information as McMurdo claimed to have given him. However, all this they would learn from his own lips. Once in their power, they would find a way to make him speak. It was not the first time that they had handled an unwilling witness.
McMurdo went to Hobson's Patch as agreed. The police seemed to take particular interest in him that morning, and Captain Marvin--he who had claimed the old acquaintance with him at Chicago--actually addressed him as he waited at the station. McMurdo turned away and refused to speak with him. He was back from his mission in the afternoon, and saw McGinty at the Union House.
"He is coming," he said.
"Good!" said McGinty. The giant was in his shirt sleeves, with chains and seals gleaming athwart his ample waistcoat and a diamond twinkling through the fringe of his bristling beard. Drink and politics had made the Boss a very rich as well as powerful man. The more terrible, therefore, seemed that glimpse of the prison or the gallows which had risen before him the night before.
"Do you reckon he knows much?" he asked anxiously.
McMurdo shook his head gloomily. "He's been here some time--six weeks at the least. I guess he didn't come into these parts to look at the prospect. If he has been working among us all that time with the railroad money at his back, I should expect that he has got results, and that he has passed them on."
"There's not a weak man in the lodge," cried McGinty. "True as steel, every man of them. And yet, by the Lord! there is that skunk Morris. What about him? If any man gives us away, it would be he. I've a mind to send a couple of the boys round before evening to give him a beating up and see what they can get from him."
"Well, there would be no harm in that," McMurdo answered. "I won't deny that I have a liking for Morris and would be sorry to see him come to harm. He has spoken to me once or twice over lodge matters, and though he may not see them the same as you or I, he never seemed the sort that squeals. But still it is not for me to stand between him and you."
"I'll fix the old devil!" said McGinty with an oath. "I've had my eye on him this year past."
"Well, you know best about that," McMurdo answered. "But whatever you do must be to-morrow; for we must lie low until the Pinkerton affair is settled up. We can't afford to set the police buzzing, to-day of all days."
"True for you," said McGinty. "And we'll learn from Birdy Edwards himself where he got his news if we have to cut his heart out first. Did he seem to scent a trap?"
McMurdo laughed. "I guess I took him on his weak point," he said. "If he could get on a good trail of the Scowrers, he's ready to follow it into hell. I took his money," McMurdo grinned as he produced a wad of dollar notes, "and as much more when he has seen all my papers."
"What papers?"
"Well, there are no papers. But I filled him up about constitutions and books of rules and forms of membership. He expects to get right down to the end of everything before he leaves."
"Faith, he's right there," said McGinty grimly. "Didn't he ask you why you didn't bring him the papers?"
"As if I would carry such things, and me a suspected man, and Captain Marvin after speaking to me this very day at the depot!"
"Ay, I heard of that," said McGinty. "I guess the heavy end of this business is coming on to you. We could put him down an old shaft when we've done with him; but however we work it we can't get past the man living at Hobson's Patch and you being there to-day."
McMurdo shrugged his shoulders. "If we handle it right, they can never prove the killing," said he. "No one can see him come to the house after dark, and I'll lay to it that no one will see him go. Now see here, Councillor, I'll show you my plan and I'll ask you to fit the others into it. You will all come in good time. Very well. He comes at ten. He is to tap three times, and me to open the door for him. Then I'll get behind him and shut it. He's our man then."
"That's all easy and plain."
"Yes; but the next step wants considering. He's a hard proposition. He's heavily armed. I've fooled him proper, and yet he is likely to be on his guard. Suppose I show him right into a room with seven men in it where he expected to find me alone. There is going to be shooting, and somebody is going to be hurt."
"That's so."
"And the noise is going to bring every damned copper in the township on top of it."
"I guess you are right."
"This is how I should work it. You will all be in the big room--same as you saw when you had a chat with me. I'll open the door for him, show him into the parlour beside the door, and leave him there while I get the papers. That will give me the chance of telling you how things are shaping. Then I will go back to him with some faked papers. As he is reading them I will jump for him and get my grip on his pistol arm. You'll hear me call and in you will rush. The quicker the better; for he is as strong a man as I, and I may have more than I can manage. But I allow that I can hold him till you come."
"It's a good plan," said McGinty. "The lodge will owe you a debt for this. I guess when I move out of the chair I can put a name to the man that's coming after me."
"Sure, Councillor, I am little more than a recruit," said McMurdo; but his face showed what he thought of the great man's compliment.
When he had returned home he made his own preparations for the grim evening in front of him. First he cleaned, oiled, and loaded his Smith & Wesson revolver. Then he surveyed the room in which the detective was to be trapped. It was a large apartment, with a long deal table in the centre, and the big stove at one side. At each of the other sides were windows. There were no shutters on these: only light curtains which drew across. McMurdo examined these attentively. No doubt it must have struck him that the apartment was very exposed for so secret a meeting. Yet its distance from the road made it of less consequence. Finally he discussed the matter with his fellow lodger. Scanlan, though a Scowrer, was an inoffensive little man who was too weak to stand against the opinion of his comrades, but was secretly horrified by the deeds of blood at which he had sometimes been forced to assist. McMurdo told him shortly what was intended.
"And if I were you, Mike Scanlan, I would take a night off and keep clear of it. There will be bloody work here before morning."
"Well, indeed then, Mac," Scanlan answered. "It's not the will but the nerve that is wanting in me. When I saw Manager Dunn go down at the colliery yonder it was just more than I could stand. I'm not made for it, same as you or McGinty. If the lodge will think none the worse of me, I'll just do as you advise and leave you to yourselves for the evening."
The men came in good time as arranged. They were outwardly respectable citizens, well clad and cleanly; but a judge of faces would have read little hope for Birdy Edwards in those hard mouths and remorseless eyes. There was not a man in the room whose hands had not been reddened a dozen times before. They were as hardened to human murder as a butcher to sheep.
Foremost, of course, both in appearance and in guilt, was the formidable Boss. Harraway, the secretary, was a lean, bitter man with a long, scraggy neck and nervous, jerky limbs, a man of incorruptible fidelity where the finances of the order were concerned, and with no notion of justice or honesty to anyone beyond. The treasurer, Carter, was a middle-aged man, with an impassive, rather sulky expression, and a yellow parchment skin. He was a capable organizer, and the actual details of nearly every outrage had sprung from his plotting brain. The two Willabys were men of action, tall, lithe young fellows with determined faces, while their companion, Tiger Cormac, a heavy, dark youth, was feared even by his own comrades for the ferocity of his disposition. These were the men who assembled that night under the roof of McMurdo for the killing of the Pinkerton detective.
Their host had placed whisky upon the table, and they had hastened to prime themselves for the work before them. Baldwin and Cormac were already half-drunk, and the liquor had brought out all their ferocity. Cormac placed his hands on the stove for an instant--it had been lighted, for the nights were still cold.
"That will do," said he, with an oath.
"Ay," said Baldwin, catching his meaning. "If he is strapped to that, we will have the truth out of him."
"We'll have the truth out of him, never fear," said McMurdo. He had nerves of steel, this man; for though the whole weight of the affair was on him his manner was as cool and unconcerned as ever. The others marked it and applauded.
"You are the one to handle him," said the Boss approvingly. "Not a warning will he get till your hand is on his throat. It's a pity there are no shutters to your windows."
McMurdo went from one to the other and drew the curtains tighter. "Sure no one can spy upon us now. It's close upon the hour."
"Maybe he won't come. Maybe he'll get a sniff of danger," said the secretary.
"He'll come, never fear," McMurdo answered. "He is as eager to come as you can be to see him. Hark to that!"
They all sat like wax figures, some with their glasses arrested halfway to their lips. Three loud knocks had sounded at the door.
"Hush!" McMurdo raised his hand in caution. An exulting glance went round the circle, and hands were laid upon their weapons.
"Not a sound, for your lives!" McMurdo whispered, as he went from the room, closing the door carefully behind him.
With strained ears the murderers waited. They counted the steps of their comrade down the passage. Then they heard him open the outer door. There were a few words as of greeting. Then they were aware of a strange step inside and of an unfamiliar voice. An instant later came the slam of the door and the turning of the key in the lock. Their prey was safe within the trap. Tiger Cormac laughed horribly, and Boss McGinty clapped his great hand across his mouth.
"Be quiet, you fool!" he whispered. "You'll be the undoing of us yet!"
There was a mutter of conversation from the next room. It seemed interminable. Then the door opened, and McMurdo appeared, his finger upon his lip.
He came to the end of the table and looked round at them. A subtle change had come over him. His manner was as of one who has great work to do. His face had set into granite firmness. His eyes shone with a fierce excitement behind his spectacles. He had become a visible leader of men. They stared at him with eager interest; but he said nothing. Still with the same singular gaze he looked from man to man.
"Well!" cried Boss McGinty at last. "Is he here? Is Birdy Edwards here?"
"Yes," McMurdo answered slowly. "Birdy Edwards is here. I am Birdy Edwards!"
There were ten seconds after that brief speech during which the room might have been empty, so profound was the silence. The hissing of a kettle upon the stove rose sharp and strident to the ear. Seven white faces, all turned upward to this man who dominated them, were set motionless with utter terror. Then, with a sudden shivering of glass, a bristle of glistening rifle barrels broke through each window, while the curtains were torn from their hangings.
At the sight Boss McGinty gave the roar of a wounded bear and plunged for the half-opened door. A levelled revolver met him there with the stern blue eyes of Captain Marvin of the Mine Police gleaming behind the sights. The Boss recoiled and fell back into his chair.
"You're safer there, Councillor," said the man whom they had known as McMurdo. "And you, Baldwin, if you don't take your hand off your pistol, you'll cheat the hangman yet. Pull it out, or by the Lord that made me--There, that will do. There are forty armed men round this house, and you can figure it out for yourself what chance you have. Take their pistols, Marvin!"
There was no possible resistance under the menace of those rifles. The men were disarmed. Sulky, sheepish, and amazed, they still sat round the table.
"I'd like to say a word to you before we separate," said the man who had trapped them. "I guess we may not meet again until you see me on the stand in the courthouse. I'll give you something to think over between now and then. You know me now for what I am. At last I can put my cards on the table. I am Birdy Edwards of Pinkerton's. I was chosen to break up your gang. I had a hard and dangerous game to play. Not a soul, not one soul, not my nearest and dearest, knew that I was playing it. Only Captain Marvin here and my employers knew that. But it's over to-night, thank God, and I am the winner!"
The seven pale, rigid faces looked up at him. There was unappeasable hatred in their eyes. He read the relentless threat.
"Maybe you think that the game is not over yet. Well, I take my chance of that. Anyhow, some of you will take no further hand, and there are sixty more besides yourselves that will see a jail this night. I'll tell you this, that when I was put upon this job I never believed there was such a society as yours. I thought it was paper talk, and that I would prove it so. They told me it was to do with the Freemen; so I went to Chicago and was made one. Then I was surer than ever that it was just paper talk; for I found no harm in the society, but a deal of good.
"Still, I had to carry out my job, and I came to the coal valleys. When I reached this place I learned that I was wrong and that it wasn't a dime novel after all. So I stayed to look after it. I never killed a man in Chicago. I never minted a dollar in my life. Those I gave you were as good as any others; but I never spent money better. But I knew the way into your good wishes and so I pretended to you that the law was after me. It all worked just as I thought.
"So I joined your infernal lodge, and I took my share in your councils. Maybe they will say that I was as bad as you. They can say what they like, so long as I get you. But what is the truth? The night I joined you beat up old man Stanger. I could not warn him, for there was no time; but I held your hand, Baldwin, when you would have killed him. If ever I have suggested things, so as to keep my place among you, they were things which I knew I could prevent. I could not save Dunn and Menzies, for I did not know enough; but I will see that their murderers are hanged. I gave Chester Wilcox warning, so that when I blew his house in he and his folk were in hiding. There was many a crime that I could not stop; but if you look back and think how often your man came home the other road, or was down in town when you went for him, or stayed indoors when you thought he would come out, you'll see my work."
"You blasted traitor!" hissed McGinty through his closed teeth.
"Ay, John McGinty, you may call me that if it eases your smart. You and your like have been the enemy of God and man in these parts. It took a man to get between you and the poor devils of men and women that you held under your grip. There was just one way of doing it, and I did it. You call me a traitor; but I guess there's many a thousand will call me a deliverer that went down into hell to save them. I've had three months of it. I wouldn't have three such months again if they let me loose in the treasury at Washington for it. I had to stay till I had it all, every man and every secret right here in this hand. I'd have waited a little longer if it hadn't come to my knowledge that my secret was coming out. A letter had come into the town that would have set you wise to it all. Then I had to act and act quickly.
"I've nothing more to say to you, except that when my time comes I'll die the easier when I think of the work I have done in this valley. Now, Marvin, I'll keep you no more. Take them in and get it over."
There is little more to tell. Scanlan had been given a sealed note to be left at the address of Miss Ettie Shafter, a mission which he had accepted with a wink and a knowing smile. In the early hours of the morning a beautiful woman and a much muffled man boarded a special train which had been sent by the railroad company, and made a swift, unbroken journey out of the land of danger. It was the last time that ever either Ettie or her lover set foot in the Valley of Fear. Ten days later they were married in Chicago, with old Jacob Shafter as witness of the wedding.
The trial of the Scowrers was held far from the place where their adherents might have terrified the guardians of the law. In vain they struggled. In vain the money of the lodge--money squeezed by blackmail out of the whole countryside--was spent like water in the attempt to save them. That cold, clear, unimpassioned statement from one who knew every detail of their lives, their organization, and their crimes was unshaken by all the wiles of their defenders. At last after so many years they were broken and scattered. The cloud was lifted forever from the valley.
McGinty met his fate upon the scaffold, cringing and whining when the last hour came. Eight of his chief followers shared his fate. Fifty-odd had various degrees of imprisonment. The work of Birdy Edwards was complete.
And yet, as he had guessed, the game was not over yet. There was another hand to be played, and yet another and another. Ted Baldwin, for one, had escaped the scaffold; so had the Willabys; so had several others of the fiercest spirits of the gang. For ten years they were out of the world, and then came a day when they were free once more--a day which Edwards, who knew his men, was very sure would be an end of his life of peace. They had sworn an oath on all that they thought holy to have his blood as a vengeance for their comrades. And well they strove to keep their vow!
From Chicago he was chased, after two attempts so near success that it was sure that the third would get him. From Chicago he went under a changed name to California, and it was there that the light went for a time out of his life when Ettie Edwards died. Once again he was nearly killed, and once again under the name of Douglas he worked in a lonely canon, where with an English partner named Barker he amassed a fortune. At last there came a warning to him that the bloodhounds were on his track once more, and he cleared--only just in time--for England. And thence came the John Douglas who for a second time married a worthy mate, and lived for five years as a Sussex county gentleman, a life which ended with the strange happenings of which we have heard.
正如麦克默多所说的那样，他所寄寓的住所孤寂无邻，正适于他们进行策划的那种犯罪活动。寓所位于镇子的最边缘，又远离大路。若是作品它案子，那些凶手只要照老办法把要杀的人叫出来，把子弹都射到他身上就行了。可是这次，他们却要弄清这人知道多少秘密，怎么知道的，给他的雇主送过多少情报。
可能他们动手太晚了，对方已把情报送走了。如果真是这样，他们至少还可以向送情报的人复仇。不过他们希望这个侦探还没弄到什么非常重要的情报，要不然，他干吗不厌其烦地记下麦克默多捏造的那些毫无价值的废话呢。然而，所有这一切，他们要让他亲口招认出来。一旦把他抓到手，他们会设法让他开口的，他们已经不是第一次处理这样的事了。
麦克默多到霍布森领地后，这天早晨警察似乎很注意他，正当麦克默多在车站等候时，那个自称在芝加哥就和他是老相识的马文队长，竟然和他打起招呼来。麦克默多不愿和他讲话，便转身走开了，这天中午麦克默多完成任务返回之后，到工会去见麦金蒂。
“他就要来的，"麦克默多说道。
“好极了！"麦金蒂说道。这位巨人只穿着衬衫，背心下露出的表链闪闪发光，钻石别针尤其光彩夺目。既开设酒馆，又玩弄政治，使得这位首领既有权势，又非常有钱。然而，前一天晚上，他面前仿佛隐约闪现着监狱和绞刑这样可怕的东西。
“你估计他对我们的事知道得多吗？"麦金蒂焦虑地问道。
麦克默多阴郁地摇了摇头，说道：“他已经来了很长时间，至少有六个星期了。我想他还没有到我们这儿来收集他需要的东西。倘若他要利用铁路资本来做后盾，又在我们中间活动了这么长时间，我想，他早已有所收获，而且早已把它传递出去了。”
“我们分会里没有一个意志薄弱的人，"麦金蒂高声喊道，“每个人都象钢铁一样坚定可靠。不过，天哪！只有那个可恶的莫里斯。他的情况怎么样？一旦有人出卖我们，那就一定是他。我想派两个弟兄在天黑以前去教训他一顿，看看他们从他身上能得到什么情况。”
“啊，那样做倒也无妨，"麦克默多答道，“不过，我不否认，我喜欢莫里斯，并且不忍眼看他受到伤害。他曾经向我说过一两次分会里的事，尽管他对这些事的看法不象你我一样，他也绝不象是一个告密的人。不过我并不想干涉你们之间的事。”
“我一定要结果这个老鬼！"麦金蒂发誓道，“我对他留意已经有一年了。”
“好，你对这些知道得很清楚，"麦克默多答道，“不过你必须等到明天再去处理，因为在平克顿这件事解决好以前，我们必须暂停其它活动。时间有的是，何必一定要在今天去惊动警察呢。”
“你说得对，"麦金蒂说道，“我们可以在把伯尔弟•爱德华的心挖出以前，从他身上弄清他到底是从什么地方得到的消息。他会不会看穿我们设的圈套呢？”
麦克默多笑容满面。
“我想我抓住了他的弱点，"麦克默多说道，“如果他能得到死酷党人的踪迹，他甚至甘心尾随他上天入地。我已经拿到他的钱了。"麦克默多咧嘴笑了，取出一叠钞票给大家看，“他答应看到我的全部文件后，还要给更多的钱。”
“什么文件？”
“啊，根本就没有什么文件。我告诉他全体会员的登记表和章程都在我这里，他指望把一切秘密弄到手，然后再离开此地。”
“果然不错，"麦金蒂咧嘴笑道，“他没有问你为什么没把这些文件带去给他看吗？”
“我说我才不能带这些出门呢，我本来是一个受怀疑的人，况且马文队长这天又在车站上和我说过话，怎么可以呢！”
“对，我听说了，"麦金蒂说道，“我认为你能担当这一重任。我们把他杀掉以后，可以把他的尸体扔到一个旧矿井里。不过不管怎么干，我们也没法瞒过住在霍布森领地的人，况且你今天又到过那里。”
麦克默多耸了耸双肩，说道：“只要我们处置得法，他们就找不出这件杀人案的证据来。天黑以后，没有人能看见他来过我的寓所中，我会安排好，不使一个人看到他。现在，参议员先生，我把我的计划向你讲一下，并且请你转告另外那几位。你们一起早一些来。他来的时间是十点钟，敲三下门，我就去给他开门，然后我在他身后把门关上。那时他就是我们的囊中之物了。”
“这倒很简单容易。”
“是的，不过下一步就需要慎重考虑了。他是一个很难对付的家伙，而且武器精良。我把他骗来，他很可能十分戒备。他本打算只有我一个人单独和他谈，可是我要是直接把他带到那间屋子，里面却坐着七个人。那时他一定会开枪，我们的一些人就会受伤。”
“对。”
“而且枪声会把附近镇上所有该死的警察都招引来。”
“我看你说得很对。”
“我一定能安排得很好。你们大家都坐在你和我谈过话的那间大屋子里，我给他开门以后，把他让到门旁会客室里，让他等在那里，我假装去取材料，借机告诉你们事情的进展情况。然后我拿着几张捏造的材料回到他那里。趁他读材料的时候，我就跳到他身前，紧紧抓住他双手，使他不能放枪。你们听到我喊，就立刻跑过来，越快越好，因为他也象我一样健壮，我一定竭力坚持，保证坚持到你们来到。”
“这是一条妙计，"麦金蒂说道，“我们分会不会忘记你这次的功劳，我想我不做身主时，我一定提名让你接替我。”
“参议员先生，说实话，我不过是一个新入会的弟兄，"麦克默多说道，可是他脸上的神色表明，他很愿听到这位有实力的人说出这样赞扬的话。
麦克默多回到家中，着手准备夜晚这场你死我活的格斗。麦克默多首先把他那支史密斯和威森牌左轮擦干净，上好油，装足子弹，然后检查一下这位侦探即将落入圈套的那间厅房。这间厅房很宽阔，中间放着一条长桌，旁边有一个大炉子。两旁全是窗户，窗户上没有窗板，只挂着一些浅色的窗帘。麦克默多很仔细地检查了一番。毫无疑问，这间房屋非常严密，正适于进行这样秘密的约会，而且这里离大路很远，不会引来不良后果。最后麦克默多又与他的同伙斯坎伦商议，斯坎伦虽是一个死酷党人，但却是一个于人无害的小人物，他极为软弱无能，不敢反对他那些同伙的意见，可是有时他被迫参加一些血腥的暗杀勾当，私下里却异常惊恐厌恶。麦克默多三言两语把即将发生的事告诉了他。
“假如我要是你的话，迈克•斯坎伦，我就在今夜离开这里，落得一身清净。这里在清晨以前，一定会有流血事件发生。”
“真的，麦克，"斯坎伦答道，“我并不愿意这样，可是我缺乏勇气。在我看到离这里很远的那家煤矿的经理邓恩被害时，我几乎忍受不住了。我没有象你或麦金蒂那样的胆量。假如会里不加害于我，我就照你劝告我的那样办，你们自己去处理晚上的事好了。”
麦金蒂等人如约赶来。他们是一些外表很体面的人，衣着华丽整洁，可是一个善于观察的人可以从他们紧闭的嘴角和凶恶残忍的目光中看出，他们渴望擒获伯尔弟•爱德华。室内没有一个人的双手以前不是多次沾满鲜血的，他们杀仆人来心肠铁硬，如同屠夫屠宰绵羊一般。
当然，从令人生畏的身主麦金蒂的外貌和罪恶来看，他是首要人物。书记哈拉威是一个骨瘦如柴的人，心黑手狠，长着一个皮包骨的长脖子，四肢神经痉挛，很关心分会的资金来源，却不顾得来是否公正合法。司库卡特是一个中年人，冷漠无情、死气沉沉，皮肤象羊皮纸一般黄。他是一个有才干的组织者，几乎每一次犯罪活动的细节安排都出自此人的罪恶头脑。威拉比两兄弟是实干家，个子高大，年轻力壮，手脚灵活，神色坚决果断。他们的伙伴老虎科马克是一个粗眉大眼的黑脸大汉，甚至会中的同伙对他那凶狠残暴的秉性也畏惧几分。就是这些人，准备这夜在麦克默多寓所杀害平克顿侦探。
他们的主人在桌上摆了些威士忌酒，这些人便急匆匆大吃大喝起来。鲍德温和科马克已经半醉，醉后更暴露出他们的凶狠残暴。因为这几夜依然寒冷异常，屋中生着火，科马克便把双手放到火上取暖。
“这就妥当了，"科马克发誓说道。
“喂，"鲍德温捉摸着科马克话中的含意说道，“如果我们把他捆起来，我们就能从他口中得知真相。”
“不用怕，我们一定能从他口中得知真相的，"麦克默多说道，他生就铁石心肠，尽管这样重大事情的全部重任落到他身上，他依然象平时一样沉着冷静、毫不在意。因此，大家都称赞他。
“由你来对付他，"身主麦金蒂赞许地说，“他毫不警惕地就会被你扼住喉咙。可惜你的窗户上没有窗板。”
麦克默多便走过去，把一个个窗子上的窗帘拉紧，说道：
“此时肯定没有人来探查我们的。时间也快到了。”
“也许他觉察出有危险，可能不来吧，"哈拉威说道。
“不用怕，他要来的，"麦克默多答道，“象你们急于见到他一样，他也急于到这里来。你们听！”
他们都象蜡人一样坐着不动，有几个人正把酒杯送往唇边，这时也停了下来。只听门上重重地响了三下。
“不要作声，"麦克默多举手示警，这些人欣喜欲狂，都暗暗握住手枪。
“为了你们的生命安全，不要出一点声音！"麦克默多低声说道，从室内走出去，小心翼翼地把门关上。
这些凶手都拉长了耳朵等候着。他们数着这位伙伴走向过道的脚步声，听到他打开大门，好象说了几句寒暄话，然后是一阵陌生的脚步声和一个生人的话声。过了一会儿，门砰地响了一下，接着是钥匙锁门的声音。他们的猎物已经完全陷入牢笼。老虎科马克发出一阵狞笑，于是首领麦金蒂用他的大手掩住科马克的嘴。
“别出声，你这蠢货！"麦金蒂低声说道，“你要坏我们的事了！”
邻室中传来模糊不清的低语声，谈个没完，令人难以忍耐。后来门打开了，麦克默多走进来，把手指放到唇上。
麦克默多走到桌子一头，把他们打量了一番。他的面容起了令人捉摸不定的变化，这时他的神情似乎是一个着手办大事的人，面容坚决果敢，双目从眼镜后面射出极其激动的光彩。他显然成了一个领导人。这些人急切地望着他，可是麦克默多一言不发，依然打量着他们每一个人。
“喂！"麦金蒂终于大声喊到，“他来了吗？伯尔弟•爱德华在这里吗？”
“不错，"麦克默多不慌不忙地答道，“伯尔弟•爱德华在此。我就是伯尔弟•爱德华！”
这短短的几句话说出以后，室中顿时象空旷无人一般的寂静无声，只听到火炉上水壶的沸腾声。七个人面色惨白，十分惊恐，呆望着这位扫视他们的人。接着，随着一阵窗玻璃的破裂声，许多闪闪发亮的来复枪筒从窗口伸进来，窗帘也全被撕破了。
这时首领麦金蒂象一头受伤的熊，咆哮了一声，跳到半开的门前。一支手枪正在那里对准了他，煤矿警察队长马文两只蓝色的大眼睛正灼灼有神地向他望着。这位首领只好退后，倒在他的座位上。
“参议员先生，你在那里还是比较安全的，"他们一直把他叫做麦克默多的那个人说道，“还有你，鲍德温，如果你不把手离开你的手枪，那你就用不着刽子手了。把手拿出来，不然，我只好……放在那里，行了。这所房子已经被四十名全副武装的人包围了，你们自己可以想想你们还有什么机会逃走。马文，下掉他们的手枪！”
在这么多来复枪的威胁下，丝毫没有反抗的可能。这些人全被缴了械，他们面色阴沉、驯顺而惊讶地依然围坐在桌旁。
“在我们分别之前，我想对你们讲一句话，"这位给他们设下圈套的人说道，“我想我们不会再见面了，除非你们将来在法庭证人席上看到我。我想让你们回想一下过去和现在的一些事。你们现在知道我是谁了。我终于可以把我的名片放在桌子上了。我就是平克顿的伯尔弟•爱德华。人们选派我来破获你们这一匪帮。我是玩着一场非常艰难而危险的把戏。没有一个人，连我最亲近的人也不知道我正冒险做着的事。只有这里的马文队长和我的几个助手知道这件事。可是今晚这件事结束了，感谢上帝，我得胜了！”
这七个人面色苍白，愣愣地望着他。他们眼中显露出抑止不住的敌意，爱德华看出他们这种威胁的神情，说道：“也许你们认为这件事还不算完。好，那我听天由命。不过，你们许多人的手不会伸得太远了，除了你们自己以外，今晚还有六十个人被捕入狱。我要告诉你们，我接受这件案子时，并不相信有象你们这样的一种社团，我还以为这是报上的无稽之谈呢。但我应当弄清楚。他们告诉我这和自由人会有关系，于是我便到芝加哥入了会。发现这个社会组织只做好事，不做坏事，那时我更加确信这些纯粹是报上的无稽之谈了。
“但我还是在继续查访。自从我来到这些产煤的山谷以后，我一到这地方，就知道我过去错了，这完全不是一些拙劣的故事传说。于是我便停留下来观察。在芝加哥我从未杀过人，我一生中也从未制造过伪币。我送给你们的那些钱币都是真的，但我从来没有把钱用得这样得当过。可是我知道怎样迎合你们的心理，所以我对你们假装说，我是犯了法逃走的。这一切都正如我想象的那样管用。
“我加入了你们那恶魔一般的分会，你们商议事情时，我尽力参加。可能人们会说我象你们一样坏，他们愿意怎么说就怎么说，只要我能抓住你们就行。可是事实怎么样？你们毒打斯坦格老人那晚我参加了。因为没有时间，我来不及事先警告他。可是，鲍德温，当你要杀死他时，我拉住了你的手。假如我曾经建议过一些事情，那就是为了在你们中间保持我的地位，而这是一些我知道我可以预防的事情。我未能拯救邓恩和孟席斯，因为我事先完全不知道，然而我会看到杀害他们的凶手被处绞刑的。我事先警告了切斯特•威尔科克斯，所以，在我炸他居住的寓所时，他和家中人一起躲起来了。也有许多犯罪活动是我未能制止的，可是只要你们回顾一下，想一想为什么你们要害的人往往回家时走了另一条路，或是在你们寻找他时，他却留在镇上，或是你们认为他要出来时，他却深居不出，你们就可以知道这正是我做的了。”
“你这个该死的内奸！"麦金蒂咬牙切齿地咒骂道。
“喂，约翰•麦金蒂，假如这可以减轻你的伤痛，你可以这样称呼我。你和你这一类人是上帝和这些地方居民的死敌。需要有一个人到你们和受你们控制的那些可怜的男女中间去了解情况。要达到这个目地，只有一种方法，于是我就采用了这种方法。你们称呼我是内奸，可是我想有成千上万的人要称呼我是救命恩人，把他们从地狱里救出来。我用了三个月的时间，在当地调查全部情况，掌握每一个人的罪恶和每一件秘密。如果不是知道我的秘密已经泄露出去，那我还要再等一些时候才动手呢。因为镇里已经接到了一封信，它会给你们敲起警钟来。所以我只好行动，而且迅速行动。
“我没有别的话对你们说。我要告诉你们，在我晚年临终之日，我想到我在这山谷做的这件事，我就会安然死去。现在，马文，我不再耽搁你了。把他们拘捕起来。”
还需要再向读者多罗嗦几句。斯坎伦被派给伊蒂•谢夫特小姐送去一封蜡封的信笺，他在接受这项使命时，眨眨眼，会意地笑了。次日一大清早，一位美丽的女子和一个蒙首盖面的人，乘坐铁路公司所派的特别快车，迅速不停地离开了这个危险的地方。这是伊蒂和她的情人在这恐怖谷中最后的行踪了。十天以后，老雅各布•谢夫特做主婚，他们在芝加哥结了婚。
这些死酷党人被押解到远处去审判，他们的党徒无法去威胁那里的法律监护人，他们枉费心机去运动，花钱如流水一般地去搭救（这些钱都是从全镇敲诈、勒索、抢劫而来的），结果依然是白费心机。控诉他们用的证词写得非常周密、明确、证据确凿。因为写这份证词的人熟知他们的生活、组织和每一犯罪活动的每一细节，以致他们的辩护人耍尽阴谋诡计，也无法挽救他们灭亡的命运。过了这么多年，死酷党人终于被击破、被粉碎了。从此，山谷永远驱散了乌云。
麦金蒂在绞架上结束了他的生命，临刑时悲泣哀号也是徒然。其他八名首犯也被处死。另有五十多名党徒被判以各种的徒刑。至此，伯尔弟•爱德华大功告成。
然而，正如爱德华所预料的，这出戏还不算结束。还有别的人要继续上演，而且一个接一个地演下去。特德•鲍德温首先逃脱了绞刑，其次是威拉比兄弟二人，还有这一伙人中其他几个凶狠残暴的人也都逃脱了绞刑。他们只被监禁了十年，终于获得释放，而爱德华深深了解这些人，他意识到仇敌出狱这一天也就是自己和平生活的结束。这些党徒立誓要为他们的同党报仇雪恨，不杀死他决不罢休！
有两次他们几乎得手，毫无疑问，第三次会接踵而至。爱德华无奈离开了芝加哥。他更名换姓从芝加哥迁至加利福尼亚。伊蒂•爱德华与世长辞，他的生活一时失去了光彩。有一次他险遭毒手，他便再次更名道格拉斯在一个人迹稀少的峡谷里和一个名叫巴克的英国人合伙经营矿业，积蓄了一大笔财富。最后，他发现那些嗜血的猎犬又追踪而来。他清楚地意识到，只有立即迁往英国才是出路。后来约翰•道格拉斯重娶了一位高贵的女子，过了五年苏塞克斯郡的绅士生活。这种生活最后所发生的奇事，前面已经介绍过了。
Epilogue
The police trial had passed, in which the case of John Douglas was referred to a higher court. So had the Quarter Sessions, at which he was acquitted as having acted in self-defense.
"Get him out of England at any cost," wrote Holmes to the wife. "There are forces here which may be more dangerous than those he has escaped. There is no safety for your husband in England."
Two months had gone by, and the case had to some extent passed from our minds. Then one morning there came an enigmatic note slipped into our letter box. "Dear me, Mr. Holmes. Dear me!" said this singular epistle. There was neither superscription nor signature. I laughed at the quaint message; but Holmes showed unwonted seriousness.
"Deviltry, Watson!" he remarked, and sat long with a clouded brow.
Late last night Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, brought up a message that a gentleman wished to see Mr. Holmes, and that the matter was of the utmost importance. Close at the heels of his messenger came Cecil Barker, our friend of the moated Manor House. His face was drawn and haggard.
"I've had bad news--terrible news, Mr. Holmes," said he.
"I feared as much," said Holmes.
"You have not had a cable, have you?"
"I have had a note from someone who has."
"It's poor Douglas. They tell me his name is Edwards; but he will always be Jack Douglas of Benito Canon to me. I told you that they started together for South Africa in the Palmyra three weeks ago."
"Exactly."
"The ship reached Cape Town last night. I received this cable from Mrs. Douglas this morning:
Jack has been lost overboard in gale off St. Helena. No one knows how accident occurred.
IVY DOUGLAS."
"Ha! It came like that, did it?" said Holmes thoughtfully. "Well, I've no doubt it was well stage-managed."
"You mean that you think there was no accident?"
"None in the world."
"He was murdered?"
"Surely!"
"So I think also. These infernal Scowrers, this cursed vindictive nest of criminals--"
"No, no, my good sir," said Holmes. "There is a master hand here. It is no case of sawed-off shotguns and clumsy six-shooters. You can tell an old master by the sweep of his brush. I can tell a Moriarty when I see one. This crime is from London, not from America."
"But for what motive?"
"Because it is done by a man who cannot afford to fail, one whose whole unique position depends upon the fact that all he does must succeed. A great brain and a huge organization have been turned to the extinction of one man. It is crushing the nut with the triphammer--an absurd extravagance of energy--but the nut is very effectually crushed all the same."
"How came this man to have anything to do with it?"
"I can only say that the first word that ever came to us of the business was from one of his lieutenants. These Americans were well advised. Having an English job to do, they took into partnership, as any foreign criminal could do, this great consultant in crime. From that moment their man was doomed. At first he would content himself by using his machinery in order to find their victim. Then he would indicate how the matter might be treated. Finally, when he read in the reports of the failure of this agent, he would step in himself with a master touch. You heard me warn this man at Birlstone Manor House that the coming danger was greater than the past. Was I right?"
Barker beat his head with his clenched fist in his impotent anger. "Do not tell me that we have to sit down under this? Do you say that no one can ever get level with this king devil?"
"No, I don't say that," said Holmes, and his eyes seemed to be looking far into the future. "I don't say that he can't be beat. But you must give me time--you must give me time!"
We all sat in silence for some minutes while those fateful eyes still strained to pierce the veil.
经过警署审理，约翰•道格拉斯案转到上一级法庭。地方法庭以自卫杀人无罪，宣判释放。
“不借任何代价，一定要让他离开英国，"福尔摩斯给爱德华妻子的信中写道，“这里危机四伏，甚至比他逃过的那些危难还要凶险许多。在英国，没有你丈夫安全栖身之地。”
两个月过去了，我们把这件案子渐渐淡忘了。可是一天早晨，我们的信箱里收到一封莫名片妙的信。信上只有简单的几个字：“天哪，福尔摩斯先生，天哪！"既无地址，又无署名。我看了这离奇古怪的语句，不觉好笑，可是福尔摩斯却显得异常严肃。
“这一定是坏事情，华生！"福尔摩斯说道，双眉紧锁坐在那里。
夜里已经很晚了，我们的女房东赫德森太太进来通报说，有一位绅士有要事求见福尔摩斯。紧随着通报人之后，我们在伯尔斯通庄园所结识的朋友塞西尔•巴克走了进来。巴克面色阴郁，形容憔悴。
“我带来了不幸的消息，可怕的消息，福尔摩斯先生，"巴克说道。
“我也很担忧呢，"福尔摩斯说道。
“你没有接到电报吗？”
“我收到一个人写来的信。”
“可怜的道格拉斯。他们告诉我，他的真名叫爱德华，可是对我来说，他永远是贝尼托峡谷的杰克•道格拉斯。在三星期以前，他们夫妇二人一起乘巴尔米拉号轮船到南非洲去了。”
“不错。”
“昨夜这艘船已驶抵开普敦。今天上午我收到道格拉斯夫人的电报：
‘杰克于圣赫勒纳岛附近大风中不幸落海。没有人知
道如何发生这样的意外事故。
艾维•道格拉斯'”
“哎呀！原来如此！"福尔摩斯若有所思地说道，“嗯，我可以肯定，这是有人在幕后周密安排与指挥的。”
“你是说，你认为这不是一次意外的事故吗？”
“世界上没有这样的意外事故的。”
“他是被人谋杀的吗？”
“当然了！”
“我也认为是这么回事。这些万恶的死酷党人，这一伙该死的复仇主义罪犯……”
“不，不，我的好先生，"福尔摩斯说道，“这里另有一个主谋的人。这不是一个使用截短了的猎枪和拙笨的六响左轮的案件。你可以说这是一个老对手干的。可是我说这是莫里亚蒂的手法。这次犯罪行动是从伦敦指挥的，不是从美国来的。”
“可是他的动机是什么呢？”
“因为下这种毒手的人是一个不甘心失败的人，这个人完全与众不同的地方就在于，他所作的一切事都一定要达到目的。这样一个有才智的人和一个庞大的组织动手去消灭一个人，就如同铁锤砸胡桃，用力过度显得荒谬可笑，不过，这胡桃自然轻而易举地被砸碎了。”
“这个人和这件事有什么关系呢？”
“我只能告诉你，我们知道这些事，还是莫里亚蒂的一个助手走漏的消息。这些美国人是经过慎重考虑的。他们象其他外国罪犯那样，要在英国作案，自然就与这个犯罪的巨匠合伙了。从那时期，他们要害的人的命运就注定了。最初莫里亚蒂派他的手下去寻找要谋杀的人，然后指示怎样去处理这件事。结果，当他看到鲍德温暗杀失败的报告以后，他就亲自动手了。你曾听到我在伯尔斯通庄园向贵友警告过，未来的危险比过去的要严重得多。我没说错吧？”
巴克生气地攥紧拳头敲打着自己的头部，说道：“你是说我们只能听任他们摆布吗？你是说没有一个人能敌得过这个魔王吗？”
“不，我没这么说，"福尔摩斯说道，他的双眼似乎远望着未来，“我并没有说他是不能打倒的。可是你必须给我时间——你必须给我时间！”
一时之间，我们大家沉默不语，而福尔摩斯颇有预见的炯炯双目似欲望穿云幕。