The group round the fireplace was nearly all composed of lawyers or those who had an interest in the law. There was Martindale the solicitor2, Rufus Lord, K.C., young Daniels who had made a name for himself in the Carstairs case, a sprinkling of other barristers, Mr. Justice Cleaver3, Lewis of Lewis and Trench4 and old Mr. Treves. Mr. Treves was dose on eighty, a very ripe and experienced eighty. He was a member of a famous firm of solicitors5, and the most famous member of that firm. He had settled innumerable delicate cases out of court, he was said to know more of backstairs history than any man in England and he was a specialist on criminology.
Unthinking people said Mr. Treves ought to write his memoirs6. Mr. Treves knew better. He knew that he knew too much.
Though he had long retired7 from active practice, there was no man in England whose opinion was so respected by the members of his own fraternity. Whenever his thin precise little voice was raised there was always a respectful silence.
The conversation now was on the subject of a much talked-of case which had finished that day at the Old Bailey. It was a murder case and the prisoner had been acquitted8. The present company was busy trying the case over again and making technical criticisms.
The prosecution9 had made a mistake in relying on one of its witnesses - old Depleach ought to have realised what an opening he was giving to the defence. Young Arthur had made the most of that servant girl's evidence. Bentmore, in his summing-up, had very rightly put the matter in its correct perspective, but the mischief10 was done by then - the jury had believed the girl. Juries were funny - you never knew what they'd swallow and what they wouldn't. But let them once get a thing into their heads and no one was ever going to get it out again. They believed that the girl was speaking the truth about the crowbar and that was that. The medical evidence had been a bit above their heads. All those long terms and scientific jargon11 - damned bad witnesses, these scientific johnnies -always hemmed12 and hawed and couldn't say yes or no to a plain question -always "in certain circumstances that might take place" - and so on!
They talked themselves out, little by little, and as the remarks became more spasmodic and disjointed, a general feeling grew of something lacking. One head after another turned in the direction of Mr. Treves. For Mr. Treves had as yet contributed nothing to the discussion. Gradually it became apparent that the company was waiting for a final word from its most respected colleague.
Mr. Treves, leaning back in his chair, was absent-mindedly polishing his glasses. Something in the silence made him look up sharply.
"Eh?" he said. "What was that? You asked me something?"
"We were talking, sir, about the Lamorne case."
He paused expectantly.
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Treves. "I was thinking of that."
There was a respectful hush14.
"But I'm afraid," said Mr. Treves, still polishing, "that I was being fanciful. Yes, fanciful. Result of getting on in years, I suppose. At my age one can claim the privilege of being fanciful, if one likes."
"Yes, indeed, sir," said young Lewis, but he looked puzzled.
"I was thinking," said Mr. Treves, "not so much of the various points of law raised - though they were interesting - very interesting - if the verdict had gone the other way there would have been good grounds for appeal, I rather think -but I won't go into that now. I was thinking, as I say, not of the points of law, but of the - well, of the people in the case."
Everybody looked rather astonished. They had considered the people in the case only as regarding their credibility or otherwise as witnesses. No one had even hazarded a speculation15 as to whether the prisoner had been guilty or as innocent as the court had pronounced him to be.
"Human beings, you know," said Mr. Treves thoughtfully. "Human beings. All kinds and sorts and sizes and shapes of 'em. Some with brains and a good many more without. They'd come from all over the place, Lancashire, Scotland - that restaurant proprietor16 from Italy, and that school-teacher woman from somewhere out Middle West. All caught up and enmeshed in the thing and finally all brought together in a court of law in London on a grey November day. Each one contributing his little part. The whole thing culminating in a trial for murder."
He paused and gently beat a delicate tattoo17 on his knee.
"I like a good detective story," he said. "But, you know, they begin in the wrong place! They begin with the murder. But the murder is the end. The story begins long before that - years before, sometimes - with all the causes and events that bring certain people to a certain place at a certain time on a certain day. Take that little maid-servant's evidence - if the kitchen-maid hadn't pinched her young man she wouldn't have thrown up her situation in a huff and gone to the Lamornes and been the principal witness for the defence. That Guiseppe Antonelli - coming over to exchange with his brother for a month. The brother is as blind as a bat. He wouldn't have seen what Guiseppe's sharp eyes saw. If the constable18 hadn't been sweet on the cook at No. 48, he wouldn't have been late on his beat ..."
He nodded his head gently: "All converging19 towards a given spot ... And then, when the time comes - over the top! Zero Hour. Yes, all of them converging towards zero ..."
He repeated. "Towards zero ..." Then gave a quick little shudder20. "You're cold, sir; come nearer the fire."
"No, no," said Mr. Treves. "Just someone walking over my grave, as they say. Well, well, I must be making my way homewards."
He gave an affable little nod and went slowly and precisely21 out of the room.
There was a moment of dubious22 silence and then Rufus Lord, K.C., remarked that poor old Treves was getting on.
Sir William Cleaver said: "An acute brain - a very acute brain - but Anno Domini tells in the end."
"Got a groggy23 heart, too," said Lord. "May drop down any minute, I believe." "He takes pretty good care of himself," said young Lewis.
At that moment Mr. Treves was carefully stepping into his smooth-running Daimler. It deposited him at a house in a quiet square. A solicitous24 butler-valet helped him off with his coat. Mr. Treves walked into his library, where a coal fire was burning. His bedroom lay beyond, for out of consideration for his heart he never went upstairs.
He sat down in front of the fire and drew his letters towards him. His mind was still dwelling25 on the fancy he had out-lined at the Club.
"Even now," thought Mr. Treves to himself, "some drama - some murder to be -is in course of preparation. If I were writing one of these amusing stories of blood and crime, I should begin now with an elderly gentleman sitting in front of the fire opening his letters - going - unbeknownst to himself - 'towards zero ...'"
He slit26 open an envelope and gazed down absently at the sheet he abstracted from it.
Suddenly his expression changed. He came back from romance to reality.
"Dear me," said Mr. Treves. "How extremely annoying! Really, how very vexing27! After all these years! This will alter all my plans."
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prologue
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| n.开场白，序言；开端，序幕 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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cleaver
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| n.切肉刀 | |
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trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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solicitors
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| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
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memoirs
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| n.回忆录；回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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tattoo
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| n.纹身，(皮肤上的)刺花纹；vt.刺花纹于 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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groggy
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| adj.体弱的；不稳的 | |
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solicitous
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| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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vexing
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| adj.使人烦恼的，使人恼火的v.使烦恼( vex的现在分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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