章节正文
"Hardly a drop!" he cried discontentedly, and flung it in the moat.
It fell, as I judged from the sound and the circles on the water,
within a yard of the pipe. And Rupert, taking out his revolver,
began to shoot at it. The first two shots missed the bottle,
but hit the pipe. The third shattered the bottle. I hoped
that the young ruffian would be content; but he emptied
the other barrels at the pipe, and one, skimming over the pipe,
whistled through my hair as I crouched on the other side.
"'Ware bridge!" a voice cried, to my relief.
Rupert and De Gautet cried, "A moment!" and ran across.
The bridge was drawn back, and all became still. The clock struck
a quarter-past one. I rose and stretched myself and yawned.
I think some ten minutes had passed when I heard a slight
noise to my right. I peered over the pipe, and saw a dark figure
standing in the gateway that led to the bridge. It was a man.
By the careless, graceful poise, I guessed it to be Rupert again.
He held a sword in his hand, and he stood motionless for a minute
or two. Wild thoughts ran through me. On what mischief was
the young fiend bent now? Then he laughed low to himself;
then he turned his face to the wall, took a step in my direction,
and, to my surprise, began to climb down the wall. In an instant
I saw that there must be steps in the wall; it was plain.
They were cut into or affixed to the wall, at intervals of about
eighteen inches. Rupert set his foot on the lower one.
Then he placed his sword between his teeth, turned round,
and noiselessly let himself into the water. Had it been a matter
of my life only, I would have swum to meet him.
Dearly would I have loved to fight it out with him
then and there--with steel, on a fine night,
and none to come between us. But there was the King!
I restrained myself, but I could not bridle my swift breathing,
and I watched him with the intensest eagerness.
He swam leisurely and quietly across. There were more steps
up on the other side, and he climbed them. When he set foot
in the gateway, standing on the drawn-back bridge, he felt
in his pocket and took something out. I heard him unlock the door.
I could hear no noise of its closing behind him. He vanished from my sight.
Abandoning my ladder--I saw I did not need it now--I swam
to the side of the bridge and climbed half way up the steps.
There I hung with my sword in my hand, listening eagerly.
The duke's room was shuttered and dark. There was a light
in the window on the opposite side of the bridge. Not a sound
broke the silence, till half-past one chimed from the great clock
in the tower of the chateau.
There were other plots than mine afoot in the Castle that night.
CHAPTER 18
The Forcing of the Trap
The position wherein I stood does not appear very favourable
to thought; yet for the next moment or two I thought profoundly.
I had, I told myself, scored one point. Be Rupert Hentzau's
errand what it might, and the villainy he was engaged on what
it would, I had scored one point. He was on the other side of
the moat from the King, and it would be by no fault of mine if
ever he set foot on the same side again. I had three left to deal with:
two on guard and De Gautet in his bed. Ah, if I had the keys!
I would have risked everything and attacked Detchard and Bersonin
before their friends could join them. But I was powerless.
I must wait till the coming of my friends enticed someone
to cross the bridge--someone with the keys. And I waited,
as it seemed, for half an hour, really for about five minutes,
before the next act in the rapid drama began.
All was still on the other side. The duke's room remained
inscrutable behind its shutters. The light burnt steadily
in Madame de Mauban's window. Then I heard the faintest,
faintest sound: it came from behind the door which led to the
drawbridge on the other side of the moat. It but just reached
my ear, yet I could not be mistaken as to what it was. It was made
by a key being turned very carefully and slowly. Who was turning it?
And of what room was it the key? There leapt before my eyes the picture
of young Rupert, with the key in one hand, his sword in the other,
and an evil smile on his face. But I did not know what door it was,
nor on which of his favourite pursuits young Rupert was spending
the hours of that night.
I was soon to be enlightened, for the next moment--before
my friends could be near the chateau door--before Johann
the keeper would have thought to nerve himself for his task--
there was a sudden crash from the room with the lighted window.
It sounded as though someone had flung down a lamp; and the
window went dark and black. At the same instant a cry rang out,
shrill in the night: "Help, help! Michael, help!" and was
followed by a shriek of utter terror.
I was tingling in every nerve. I stood on the topmost step,
clinging to the threshold of the gate with my right hand and
holding my sword in my left. Suddenly I perceived that the
gateway was broader than the bridge; there was a dark corner
on the opposite side where a man could stand. I darted across
and stood there. Thus placed, I commanded the path, and no man
could pass between the chateau and the old Castle till he had
tried conclusions with me.
There was another shriek. Then a door was flung open
and clanged against the wall, and I heard the handle
of a door savagely" target="_blank" title="ad.野蛮地；原始地">savagely twisted.
"Open the door! In God's name, what's the matter?"
cried a voice--the voice of Black Michael himself.
He was answered by the very words I had written in my letter.
"Help, Michael--Hentzau!"
A fierce oath rang out from the duke, and with a loud thud
he threw himself against the door. At the same moment I heard
a window above my head open, and a voice cried: "What's the
matter?" and I heard a man's hasty footsteps. I grasped my sword.
If De Gautet came my way, the Six would be less by one more.
Then I heard the clash of crossed swords and a tramp of feet and
--I cannot tell the thing so quickly as it happened, for all
seemed to come at once. There was an angry cry from madame's room,
the cry of a wounded man; the window was flung open; young Rupert
stood there sword in hand. He turned his back, and I saw his body
go forward to the lunge.
"Ah, Johann, there's one for you! Come on, Michael!"
Johann was there, then--come to the rescue of the duke!
How would he open the door for me? For I feared that Rupert
had slain him.
"Help!" cried the duke's voice, faint and husky.
I heard a step on the stairs above me; and I heard a stir down
to my left, in the direction of the King's cell. But, before
anything happened on my side of the moat, I saw five or six
men round young Rupert in the embrasure of madame's window.
Three or four times he lunged with incomparable dash
and dexterity. For an instant they fell back, leaving a ring
round him. He leapt on the parapet of the window, laughing as
he leapt, and waving his sword in his hand. He was drunk with
blood, and he laughed again wildly as he flung himself headlong
into the moat.
What became of him then? I did not see: for as he leapt,
De Gautet's lean face looked out through the door by me, and,
without a second's hesitation, I struck at him with all the
strength God had given me, and he fell dead in the doorway
without a word or a groan. I dropped on my knees by him.
Where were the keys? I found myself muttering: "The keys,
man, the keys?" as though he had been yet alive and could
listen; and when I could not find them, I--God forgive me!--
I believe I struck a dead man's face.
At last I had them. There were but three. Seizing the largest,
I felt the lock of the door that led to the cell. I fitted in the
key. It was right. The lock turned. I drew the door close behind me
and locked it as noiselessly as I could, putting the key in my pocket.
I found myself at the top of a flight of steep stone stairs.
An oil lamp burnt dimly in the bracket. I took it down and held it
in my hand; and I stood and listened.
"What in the devil can it be?" I heard a voice say.
It came from behind a door that faced me at the bottom of the stairs.
And another answered:
"Shall we kill him?"
I strained to hear the answer, and could have sobbed with
relief when Detchard's voice came grating and cold:
"Wait a bit. There'll be trouble if we strike too soon."
There was a moment's silence. Then I heard the bolt of the door
cautiously drawn back. Instantly I put out the light I held,
replacing the lamp in the bracket.
"It's dark--the lamp's out. Have you a light?"
said the other voice--Bersonin's.
No doubt they had a light, but they should not use it.
It was come to the crisis now, and I rushed down the steps
and flung myself against the door. Bersonin had unbolted it
and it gave way before me. The Belgian stood there sword in hand,
and Detchard was sitting on a couch at the side of the room.
In astonishment at seeing me, Bersonin recoiled; Detchard jumped
to his sword. I rushed madly at the Belgian: he gave way before me,
and I drove him up against the wall. He was no swordsman,
though he fought bravely, and in a moment he lay on the floor before me.
I turned--Detchard was not there. Faithful to his orders,
he had not risked a fight with me, but had rushed straight
to the door of the King's room, opened it and slammed it behind him.
Even now he was at his work inside.
And surely he would have killed the King, and perhaps me also,
had it not been for one devoted man who gave his life for the King.
For when I forced the door, the sight I saw was this:
the King stood in the corner of the room: broken by his sickness,
he could do nothing; his fettered hands moved uselessly up and down,
and he was laughing horribly in half-mad delirium.
Detchard and the doctor were together in the middle of the room;
and the doctor had flung himself on the murderer,
pinning his hands to his sides for an instant.
Then Detchard wrenched himself free from the feeble grip,
and, as I entered, drove his sword through the hapless man.
Then he turned on me, crying:
"At last!"
We were sword to sword. By blessed chance, neither he
nor Bersonin had been wearing their revolvers.
I found them afterwards, ready loaded, on the mantelpiece
of the outer room: it was hard by the door, ready to their hands,
but my sudden rush in had cut off access to them.
Yes, we were man to man: and we began to fight,
silently, sternly, and hard. Yet I remember little of it,
save that the man was my match with the sword--nay, and more,
for he knew more tricks than I; and that he forced me back
against the bars that guarded the entrance to "Jacob's Ladder."
And I saw a smile on his face, and he wounded me in the left arm.
No glory do I take for that contest. I believe that the man
would have mastered me and slain me, and then done his butcher's work,
for he was the most skilful swordsman I have ever met;
but even as he pressed me hard, the half-mad, wasted,
wan creature in the corner leapt high in lunatic mirth, shrieking:
"It's cousin Rudolf! Cousin Rudolf! I'll help you, cousin Rudolf!"
and catching up a chair in his hands (he could but just lift it
from the ground and hold it uselessly before him) he came towards us.
Hope came to me.
"Come on!" I cried. "Come on! Drive it against his legs."
Detchard replied with a savagethrust. He all but had me.
"Come on! Come on, man!" I cried. "Come and share the fun!"
And the King laughed gleefully, and came on, pushing his chair before him.
With an oath Detchard skipped back, and, before I knew what
It fell, as I judged from the sound and the circles on the water,
within a yard of the pipe. And Rupert, taking out his revolver,
began to shoot at it. The first two shots missed the bottle,
but hit the pipe. The third shattered the bottle. I hoped
that the young ruffian would be content; but he emptied
the other barrels at the pipe, and one, skimming over the pipe,
whistled through my hair as I crouched on the other side.
"'Ware bridge!" a voice cried, to my relief.
Rupert and De Gautet cried, "A moment!" and ran across.
The bridge was drawn back, and all became still. The clock struck
a quarter-past one. I rose and stretched myself and yawned.
I think some ten minutes had passed when I heard a slight
noise to my right. I peered over the pipe, and saw a dark figure
standing in the gateway that led to the bridge. It was a man.
By the careless, graceful poise, I guessed it to be Rupert again.
He held a sword in his hand, and he stood motionless for a minute
or two. Wild thoughts ran through me. On what mischief was
the young fiend bent now? Then he laughed low to himself;
then he turned his face to the wall, took a step in my direction,
and, to my surprise, began to climb down the wall. In an instant
I saw that there must be steps in the wall; it was plain.
They were cut into or affixed to the wall, at intervals of about
eighteen inches. Rupert set his foot on the lower one.
Then he placed his sword between his teeth, turned round,
and noiselessly let himself into the water. Had it been a matter
of my life only, I would have swum to meet him.
Dearly would I have loved to fight it out with him
then and there--with steel, on a fine night,
and none to come between us. But there was the King!
I restrained myself, but I could not bridle my swift breathing,
and I watched him with the intensest eagerness.
He swam leisurely and quietly across. There were more steps
up on the other side, and he climbed them. When he set foot
in the gateway, standing on the drawn-back bridge, he felt
in his pocket and took something out. I heard him unlock the door.
I could hear no noise of its closing behind him. He vanished from my sight.
Abandoning my ladder--I saw I did not need it now--I swam
to the side of the bridge and climbed half way up the steps.
There I hung with my sword in my hand, listening eagerly.
The duke's room was shuttered and dark. There was a light
in the window on the opposite side of the bridge. Not a sound
broke the silence, till half-past one chimed from the great clock
in the tower of the chateau.
There were other plots than mine afoot in the Castle that night.
CHAPTER 18
The Forcing of the Trap
The position wherein I stood does not appear very favourable
to thought; yet for the next moment or two I thought profoundly.
I had, I told myself, scored one point. Be Rupert Hentzau's
errand what it might, and the villainy he was engaged on what
it would, I had scored one point. He was on the other side of
the moat from the King, and it would be by no fault of mine if
ever he set foot on the same side again. I had three left to deal with:
two on guard and De Gautet in his bed. Ah, if I had the keys!
I would have risked everything and attacked Detchard and Bersonin
before their friends could join them. But I was powerless.
I must wait till the coming of my friends enticed someone
to cross the bridge--someone with the keys. And I waited,
as it seemed, for half an hour, really for about five minutes,
before the next act in the rapid drama began.
All was still on the other side. The duke's room remained
inscrutable behind its shutters. The light burnt steadily
in Madame de Mauban's window. Then I heard the faintest,
faintest sound: it came from behind the door which led to the
drawbridge on the other side of the moat. It but just reached
my ear, yet I could not be mistaken as to what it was. It was made
by a key being turned very carefully and slowly. Who was turning it?
And of what room was it the key? There leapt before my eyes the picture
of young Rupert, with the key in one hand, his sword in the other,
and an evil smile on his face. But I did not know what door it was,
nor on which of his favourite pursuits young Rupert was spending
the hours of that night.
I was soon to be enlightened, for the next moment--before
my friends could be near the chateau door--before Johann
the keeper would have thought to nerve himself for his task--
there was a sudden crash from the room with the lighted window.
It sounded as though someone had flung down a lamp; and the
window went dark and black. At the same instant a cry rang out,
shrill in the night: "Help, help! Michael, help!" and was
followed by a shriek of utter terror.
I was tingling in every nerve. I stood on the topmost step,
clinging to the threshold of the gate with my right hand and
holding my sword in my left. Suddenly I perceived that the
gateway was broader than the bridge; there was a dark corner
on the opposite side where a man could stand. I darted across
and stood there. Thus placed, I commanded the path, and no man
could pass between the chateau and the old Castle till he had
tried conclusions with me.
There was another shriek. Then a door was flung open
and clanged against the wall, and I heard the handle
of a door savagely" target="_blank" title="ad.野蛮地；原始地">savagely twisted.
"Open the door! In God's name, what's the matter?"
cried a voice--the voice of Black Michael himself.
He was answered by the very words I had written in my letter.
"Help, Michael--Hentzau!"
A fierce oath rang out from the duke, and with a loud thud
he threw himself against the door. At the same moment I heard
a window above my head open, and a voice cried: "What's the
matter?" and I heard a man's hasty footsteps. I grasped my sword.
If De Gautet came my way, the Six would be less by one more.
Then I heard the clash of crossed swords and a tramp of feet and
--I cannot tell the thing so quickly as it happened, for all
seemed to come at once. There was an angry cry from madame's room,
the cry of a wounded man; the window was flung open; young Rupert
stood there sword in hand. He turned his back, and I saw his body
go forward to the lunge.
"Ah, Johann, there's one for you! Come on, Michael!"
Johann was there, then--come to the rescue of the duke!
How would he open the door for me? For I feared that Rupert
had slain him.
"Help!" cried the duke's voice, faint and husky.
I heard a step on the stairs above me; and I heard a stir down
to my left, in the direction of the King's cell. But, before
anything happened on my side of the moat, I saw five or six
men round young Rupert in the embrasure of madame's window.
Three or four times he lunged with incomparable dash
and dexterity. For an instant they fell back, leaving a ring
round him. He leapt on the parapet of the window, laughing as
he leapt, and waving his sword in his hand. He was drunk with
blood, and he laughed again wildly as he flung himself headlong
into the moat.
What became of him then? I did not see: for as he leapt,
De Gautet's lean face looked out through the door by me, and,
without a second's hesitation, I struck at him with all the
strength God had given me, and he fell dead in the doorway
without a word or a groan. I dropped on my knees by him.
Where were the keys? I found myself muttering: "The keys,
man, the keys?" as though he had been yet alive and could
listen; and when I could not find them, I--God forgive me!--
I believe I struck a dead man's face.
At last I had them. There were but three. Seizing the largest,
I felt the lock of the door that led to the cell. I fitted in the
key. It was right. The lock turned. I drew the door close behind me
and locked it as noiselessly as I could, putting the key in my pocket.
I found myself at the top of a flight of steep stone stairs.
An oil lamp burnt dimly in the bracket. I took it down and held it
in my hand; and I stood and listened.
"What in the devil can it be?" I heard a voice say.
It came from behind a door that faced me at the bottom of the stairs.
And another answered:
"Shall we kill him?"
I strained to hear the answer, and could have sobbed with
relief when Detchard's voice came grating and cold:
"Wait a bit. There'll be trouble if we strike too soon."
There was a moment's silence. Then I heard the bolt of the door
cautiously drawn back. Instantly I put out the light I held,
replacing the lamp in the bracket.
"It's dark--the lamp's out. Have you a light?"
said the other voice--Bersonin's.
No doubt they had a light, but they should not use it.
It was come to the crisis now, and I rushed down the steps
and flung myself against the door. Bersonin had unbolted it
and it gave way before me. The Belgian stood there sword in hand,
and Detchard was sitting on a couch at the side of the room.
In astonishment at seeing me, Bersonin recoiled; Detchard jumped
to his sword. I rushed madly at the Belgian: he gave way before me,
and I drove him up against the wall. He was no swordsman,
though he fought bravely, and in a moment he lay on the floor before me.
I turned--Detchard was not there. Faithful to his orders,
he had not risked a fight with me, but had rushed straight
to the door of the King's room, opened it and slammed it behind him.
Even now he was at his work inside.
And surely he would have killed the King, and perhaps me also,
had it not been for one devoted man who gave his life for the King.
For when I forced the door, the sight I saw was this:
the King stood in the corner of the room: broken by his sickness,
he could do nothing; his fettered hands moved uselessly up and down,
and he was laughing horribly in half-mad delirium.
Detchard and the doctor were together in the middle of the room;
and the doctor had flung himself on the murderer,
pinning his hands to his sides for an instant.
Then Detchard wrenched himself free from the feeble grip,
and, as I entered, drove his sword through the hapless man.
Then he turned on me, crying:
"At last!"
We were sword to sword. By blessed chance, neither he
nor Bersonin had been wearing their revolvers.
I found them afterwards, ready loaded, on the mantelpiece
of the outer room: it was hard by the door, ready to their hands,
but my sudden rush in had cut off access to them.
Yes, we were man to man: and we began to fight,
silently, sternly, and hard. Yet I remember little of it,
save that the man was my match with the sword--nay, and more,
for he knew more tricks than I; and that he forced me back
against the bars that guarded the entrance to "Jacob's Ladder."
And I saw a smile on his face, and he wounded me in the left arm.
No glory do I take for that contest. I believe that the man
would have mastered me and slain me, and then done his butcher's work,
for he was the most skilful swordsman I have ever met;
but even as he pressed me hard, the half-mad, wasted,
wan creature in the corner leapt high in lunatic mirth, shrieking:
"It's cousin Rudolf! Cousin Rudolf! I'll help you, cousin Rudolf!"
and catching up a chair in his hands (he could but just lift it
from the ground and hold it uselessly before him) he came towards us.
Hope came to me.
"Come on!" I cried. "Come on! Drive it against his legs."
Detchard replied with a savagethrust. He all but had me.
"Come on! Come on, man!" I cried. "Come and share the fun!"
And the King laughed gleefully, and came on, pushing his chair before him.
With an oath Detchard skipped back, and, before I knew what
- careless [´keəlis]
a.粗心的；草率的 (初中英语单词) - graceful [´greisfəl] a.优美的，流畅的 (初中英语单词)
- mischief [´mistʃif] n.伤害；故障；调皮 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- keeper [´ki:pə] n.管理人；看守；保管人 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- shriek [ʃri:k] v.&n.尖叫(声) (初中英语单词)
- fierce [fiəs] a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词)
- rescue [´reskju:] vt.&n.救援；挽救 (初中英语单词)
- forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
- flight [flait] n.逃走；飞行；班机 (初中英语单词)
- instantly [´instəntli] ad.立即，立刻 (初中英语单词)
- astonishment [ə´stɔniʃmənt] n.吃惊；惊异 (初中英语单词)
- faithful [´feiθfəl] a.忠实的；可靠的 (初中英语单词)
- uselessly [´ju:zlisli] ad.无用地；徒劳地 (初中英语单词)
- feeble [´fi:bəl] a.虚弱的，无力的 (初中英语单词)
- contest [kən´test, ´kɔntest] v.争辩 n.争夺；竞赛 (初中英语单词)
- savage [´sævidʒ] a.野蛮的 n.蛮人 (初中英语单词)
- thrust [θrʌst] v.&n.猛推；冲；刺；挤进 (初中英语单词)
- gateway [´geit-wei] n.入口；通道；途径 (高中英语单词)
- motionless [´məuʃənləs] a.静止的；固定的 (高中英语单词)
- bridle [´braidl] n.(马)笼头；束缚 (高中英语单词)
- wherein [weər´in] ad.那里面 (高中英语单词)
- mistaken [mis´teikən] mistake的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- threshold [´θreʃhəuld] n.门槛；入门；开端 (高中英语单词)
- hesitation [,hezi´teiʃən] n.犹豫，踌躇 (高中英语单词)
- crisis [´kraisis] n.转折点；危机 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- bravely [´breivli] ad.勇敢地；毅然 (高中英语单词)
- access [´ækses] n.接近；通路；进入 (高中英语单词)
- sternly [´stə:nli] ad.严厉地；坚定地 (高中英语单词)
- bridge [bridʒ] n.桥(梁)；鼻梁；桥牌 (英语四级单词)
- noiselessly [´nɔizlisli] ad.静静地，轻轻地 (英语四级单词)
- leisurely [´leʒəli] a.从容地，慢慢地 (英语四级单词)
- unlock [ʌn´lɔk] vt.开锁；开启；池露 (英语四级单词)
- chateau [´ʃætəu] n.城堡；公馆，邸宅 (英语四级单词)
- savagely [´sævidʒli] ad.野蛮地；原始地 (英语四级单词)
- bracket [´brækit] n.托架 vt.给...装托架 (英语四级单词)
- grating [´greitiŋ] n.格栅 a.刺耳的 (英语四级单词)
- belgian [´beldʒən] n.&a.比利时人(的) (英语四级单词)
- devoted [di´vəutid] a.献身...的，忠实的 (英语四级单词)
- blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- ruffian [´rʌfiən] n.流氓 a.残暴的 (英语六级单词)
- incomparable [in´kɔmpərəbəl] a.无可比拟的 (英语六级单词)
- dexterity [dek´steriti] n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 (英语六级单词)
- horribly [´hɔrəbli] ad.恐怖地 (英语六级单词)
- hapless [´hæpləs] a.不幸的；倒楣的 (英语六级单词)
- lunatic [´lu:nətik] a.精神错乱的 n.疯子 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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