章节正文
covered with papers and japanned tin boxes.
"You stay here till I fetch Mr. Carey, and the servants,"
commanded the watchman. "Don't try to get out, and," he added
menacingly, "don't make no noise." With his revolver he
pointed at the two windows. They were heavily barred. "Those
bars keep Mr. Carey in," he said, "and I guess they can keep
you in, too. The other watchman," he added, "will be just
outside this door." But still he hesitated, glowering with
suspicion; unwilling to trust them alone. His face lit with
an ugly smile.
"Mr. Carey's very bad to-night," he said; "he won't keep his
bed and he's wandering about the house. If he found you by
yourselves, he might----"
The young man, who had been staring at the fire, swung sharply
on his heel.
"Get-to-hell-out-of-here!" he said. The watchman stepped into
the hall and was cautiously closing the door when a man sprang
lightly up the front steps. Through the inch crack left by
the open door the trespassers heard the newcomers eager
greeting.
"I can't get him right!" he panted. "He's snoring like a hog."
The watchman exclaimed savagely:
"He's fooling you." He gasped. "I didn't mor' nor slap him.
Did you throw water on him?"
"I drowned him!" returned the other. "He never winked. I
tell You we gotta walk, and damn quick!"
"Walk!" The watchman cursed him foully. "How far could we
walk? I'LL bring him to," he swore. "He's scared of us,
and he's shamming." He gave a sudden start of alarm. "That's
it, he's shamming. You fool! You shouldn't have left him."
There was the swift patter of retreating footsteps, and then a
sudden halt, and they heard the watchman command: "Go back,
and keep the other two till I come."
The next instant from the outside the door was softly closed
upon them.
It had no more than shut when to the surprise of Miss Forbes
the young man, with a delighted and vindictive chuckle, sprang
to the desk and began to drum upon it with his fingers. It
were as though he were practising upon a typewriter.
"He missed THESE," he muttered jubilantly. The girl leaned
forward. Beneath his fingers she saw, flush with the table, a
roll of little ivory buttons. She read the words " Stables,"
"Servants' hall." She raised a pair of very beautiful and
very bewildered eyes.
"But if he wanted the servants, why didn't the watchman do
that?" she asked.
"Because he isn't a watchman," answered the young man.
"Because he's robbing this house."
He took the revolver from his encumbering greatcoat, slipped
it in his pocket, and threw the coat from him. He motioned
the girl into a corner. "Keep out of the line of the door,"
he ordered.
"I don't understand," begged the girl.
"They came in a car," whispered the young man. "It's broken
down, and they can't get away. When the big fellow stopped us
and I flashed my torch, I saw their car behind him in the road
with the front off and the lights out. He'd seen the lamps of
our car, and now they want it to escape in.
That's why he brought us here--to keep us away from our car."
"And Fred!" gasped the girl. "Fred's hurt!"
"I guess Fred stumbled into the big fellow," assented the young
man, "and the big fellow put him out; then he saw Fred was a
chauffeur, and now they are trying to bring him to, so that he
can run the car for them. You needn't worry about Fred. He's
been in four smash-ups."
The young man bent forward to listen, but from no part of the
great house came any sign. He exclaimed angrily.
"They must be drugged," he growled. He ran to the desk and
made vicious jabs at the ivory buttons.
"Suppose they're out of order!" he whispered.
There was the sound of leaping feet. The young man laughed
nervously.
"No, it's all right," he cried. "They're coming!"
The door flung open and the big burglar and a small, rat-like
figure of a man burst upon them; the big one pointing a
revolver.
"Come with me to your car!" he commanded. "You've got to take
us to Boston. Quick, or I'll blow your face off."
Although the young man glared bravely at the steel barrel and
the lifted trigger, poised a few inches from his eyes, his
body, as though weak with fright, shifted slightly and his
feet made a shuffling noise upon the floor. When the weight
of his body was balanced on the ball of his right foot, the
shuffling ceased. Had the burglar lowered his eyes, the
manoeuvre to him would have been significant, but his eyes
were following the barrel of the revolver.
In the mind of the young man the one thought uppermost was
that he must gain time, but, with a revolver in his face, he
found his desire to gain time swiftly diminishing. Still,
when he spoke, it was with deliberation.
"My chauffeur--" he began slowly.
The burglar snapped at him like a dog. "To hell with your
chauffeur!" he cried. "Your chauffeur has run away. You'll
drive that car yourself, or I'll leave you here with the top
of your head off."
The face of the young man suddenly flashed with pleasure. His
eyes, looking past the burglar to the door, lit with relief.
"There's the chauffeur now!" he cried.
The big burglar for one instant glanced over his right
shoulder.
For months at a time, on Soldiers Field, the young man had
thrown himself at human targets, that ran and dodged and
evaded him, and the hulking burglar, motionless before him,
was easily his victim.
He leaped at him, his left arm swinging like a scythe, and,
with the impact of a club, the blow caught the burglar in the
throat.
The pistol went off impotently; the burglar with a choking
cough sank in a heap on the floor.
The young man tramped over him and upon him, and beat the
second burglar with savage, whirlwind blows. The second
burglar, shrieking with pain, turned to fly, and a fist, that
fell upon him where his bump of honesty should have been,
drove his head against the lintel of the door.
At the same instant from the belfry on the roof there rang out
on the night the sudden tumult of a bell; a bell that told as
plainly as though it clamored with a human tongue, that the
hand that rang it was driven with fear; fear of fire, fear of
thieves, fear of a mad-man with a knife in his hand running
amuck; perhaps at that moment creeping up the belfry stairs.
From all over the house there was the rush of feet and men's
voices, and from the garden the light of dancing lanterns.
And while the smoke of the revolver still hung motionless, the
open door was crowded with half-clad figures. At their head
were two young men. One who had drawn over his night clothes
a serge suit, and who, in even that garb, carried an air of
authority; and one, tall, stooping, weak of face and
light-haired, with eyes that blinked and trembled behind great
spectacles and who, for comfort, hugged about him a gorgeous
kimono. For an instant the newcomers stared stupidly through
the smoke at the bodies on the floor breathing stertorously,
at the young man with the lust of battle still in his face, at
the girl shrinking against the wall. It was the young man in
the serge suit who was the first to move.
"Who are you? " he demanded.
"These are burglars," said the owner of the car. "We happened
to be passing in my automobile, and----"
The young man was no longer listening. With an alert,
professional manner he had stooped over the big burglar. With
his thumb he pushed back the man's eyelids, and ran his
fingers over his throat and chin. He felt carefully of the
point of the chin, and glanced up.
"You've broken the bone," he said.
"I just swung on him," said the young man. He turned his
eyes, and suggested the presence of the girl.
At the same moment the man in the kimono cried nervously:
"Ladies present, ladies present. Go put your clothes on,
everybody; put your clothes on."
For orders the men in the doorway looked to the young man with
the stern face.
He scowled at the figure in the kimono.
"You will please go to your room, sir," he said. He stood up,
and bowed to Miss Forbes. "I beg your pardon," he asked, "you
must want to get out of this. Will you please go into the
library?"
He turned to the robust youths in the door, and pointed at the
second burglar.
"Move him out of the way," he ordered.
The man in the kimono smirked and bowed.
"Allow me," he said; "allow me to show you to the library.
This is no place for ladies."
The young man with the stern face frowned impatiently.
"You will please return to your room, sir," he repeated.
With an attempt at dignity the figure in the kimono gathered
the silk robe closer about him.
"Certainly," he said. "If you think you can get on without
me--I will retire," and lifting his bare feet mincingly, he
tiptoed away. Miss Forbes looked after him with an expression
of relief, of repulsion, of great pity.
The owner of the car glanced at the young man with the stern
face, and raised his eyebrows interrogatively.
The young man had taken the revolver from the limp fingers of
the burglar and was holding it in his hand. Winthrop gave
what was half a laugh and half a sigh of compassion.
"So, that's Carey?" he said.
There was a sudden silence. The young man with the stern face
made no answer. His head was bent over the revolver. He
broke it open, and spilled the cartridges into his palm.
Still he made no answer. When he raised his head, his eyes
were no longer stern, but wistful, and filled with an
inexpressible loneliness.
"No, _I_ am Carey," he said.
The one who had blundered stood helpless, tongue-tied, with no
presence of mind beyond knowing that to explain would offend
further.
The other seemed to feel for him more than for himself. In a
voice low and peculiarly appealing, he continued hurriedly.
"He is my doctor," he said. "He is a young man, and he has
not had many advantages--his manner is not--I find we do not
get on together. I have asked them to send me some one else."
He stopped suddenly, and stood unhappily silent. The
knowledge that the strangers were acquainted with his story
seemed to rob him of his earlier confidence. He made an
uncertain movement as though to relieve them of his presence.
Miss Forbes stepped toward him eagerly.
"You told me I might wait in the library," she said. "Will
you take me there?"
For a moment the man did not move, but stood looking at the
young and beautiful girl, who, with a smile, hid the
compassion in her eyes.
"Will you go?" he asked wistfully.
"You stay here till I fetch Mr. Carey, and the servants,"
commanded the watchman. "Don't try to get out, and," he added
menacingly, "don't make no noise." With his revolver he
pointed at the two windows. They were heavily barred. "Those
bars keep Mr. Carey in," he said, "and I guess they can keep
you in, too. The other watchman," he added, "will be just
outside this door." But still he hesitated, glowering with
suspicion; unwilling to trust them alone. His face lit with
an ugly smile.
"Mr. Carey's very bad to-night," he said; "he won't keep his
bed and he's wandering about the house. If he found you by
yourselves, he might----"
The young man, who had been staring at the fire, swung sharply
on his heel.
"Get-to-hell-out-of-here!" he said. The watchman stepped into
the hall and was cautiously closing the door when a man sprang
lightly up the front steps. Through the inch crack left by
the open door the trespassers heard the newcomers eager
greeting.
"I can't get him right!" he panted. "He's snoring like a hog."
The watchman exclaimed savagely:
"He's fooling you." He gasped. "I didn't mor' nor slap him.
Did you throw water on him?"
"I drowned him!" returned the other. "He never winked. I
tell You we gotta walk, and damn quick!"
"Walk!" The watchman cursed him foully. "How far could we
walk? I'LL bring him to," he swore. "He's scared of us,
and he's shamming." He gave a sudden start of alarm. "That's
it, he's shamming. You fool! You shouldn't have left him."
There was the swift patter of retreating footsteps, and then a
sudden halt, and they heard the watchman command: "Go back,
and keep the other two till I come."
The next instant from the outside the door was softly closed
upon them.
It had no more than shut when to the surprise of Miss Forbes
the young man, with a delighted and vindictive chuckle, sprang
to the desk and began to drum upon it with his fingers. It
were as though he were practising upon a typewriter.
"He missed THESE," he muttered jubilantly. The girl leaned
forward. Beneath his fingers she saw, flush with the table, a
roll of little ivory buttons. She read the words " Stables,"
"Servants' hall." She raised a pair of very beautiful and
very bewildered eyes.
"But if he wanted the servants, why didn't the watchman do
that?" she asked.
"Because he isn't a watchman," answered the young man.
"Because he's robbing this house."
He took the revolver from his encumbering greatcoat, slipped
it in his pocket, and threw the coat from him. He motioned
the girl into a corner. "Keep out of the line of the door,"
he ordered.
"I don't understand," begged the girl.
"They came in a car," whispered the young man. "It's broken
down, and they can't get away. When the big fellow stopped us
and I flashed my torch, I saw their car behind him in the road
with the front off and the lights out. He'd seen the lamps of
our car, and now they want it to escape in.
That's why he brought us here--to keep us away from our car."
"And Fred!" gasped the girl. "Fred's hurt!"
"I guess Fred stumbled into the big fellow," assented the young
man, "and the big fellow put him out; then he saw Fred was a
chauffeur, and now they are trying to bring him to, so that he
can run the car for them. You needn't worry about Fred. He's
been in four smash-ups."
The young man bent forward to listen, but from no part of the
great house came any sign. He exclaimed angrily.
"They must be drugged," he growled. He ran to the desk and
made vicious jabs at the ivory buttons.
"Suppose they're out of order!" he whispered.
There was the sound of leaping feet. The young man laughed
nervously.
"No, it's all right," he cried. "They're coming!"
The door flung open and the big burglar and a small, rat-like
figure of a man burst upon them; the big one pointing a
revolver.
"Come with me to your car!" he commanded. "You've got to take
us to Boston. Quick, or I'll blow your face off."
Although the young man glared bravely at the steel barrel and
the lifted trigger, poised a few inches from his eyes, his
body, as though weak with fright, shifted slightly and his
feet made a shuffling noise upon the floor. When the weight
of his body was balanced on the ball of his right foot, the
shuffling ceased. Had the burglar lowered his eyes, the
manoeuvre to him would have been significant, but his eyes
were following the barrel of the revolver.
In the mind of the young man the one thought uppermost was
that he must gain time, but, with a revolver in his face, he
found his desire to gain time swiftly diminishing. Still,
when he spoke, it was with deliberation.
"My chauffeur--" he began slowly.
The burglar snapped at him like a dog. "To hell with your
chauffeur!" he cried. "Your chauffeur has run away. You'll
drive that car yourself, or I'll leave you here with the top
of your head off."
The face of the young man suddenly flashed with pleasure. His
eyes, looking past the burglar to the door, lit with relief.
"There's the chauffeur now!" he cried.
The big burglar for one instant glanced over his right
shoulder.
For months at a time, on Soldiers Field, the young man had
thrown himself at human targets, that ran and dodged and
evaded him, and the hulking burglar, motionless before him,
was easily his victim.
He leaped at him, his left arm swinging like a scythe, and,
with the impact of a club, the blow caught the burglar in the
throat.
The pistol went off impotently; the burglar with a choking
cough sank in a heap on the floor.
The young man tramped over him and upon him, and beat the
second burglar with savage, whirlwind blows. The second
burglar, shrieking with pain, turned to fly, and a fist, that
fell upon him where his bump of honesty should have been,
drove his head against the lintel of the door.
At the same instant from the belfry on the roof there rang out
on the night the sudden tumult of a bell; a bell that told as
plainly as though it clamored with a human tongue, that the
hand that rang it was driven with fear; fear of fire, fear of
thieves, fear of a mad-man with a knife in his hand running
amuck; perhaps at that moment creeping up the belfry stairs.
From all over the house there was the rush of feet and men's
voices, and from the garden the light of dancing lanterns.
And while the smoke of the revolver still hung motionless, the
open door was crowded with half-clad figures. At their head
were two young men. One who had drawn over his night clothes
a serge suit, and who, in even that garb, carried an air of
authority; and one, tall, stooping, weak of face and
light-haired, with eyes that blinked and trembled behind great
spectacles and who, for comfort, hugged about him a gorgeous
kimono. For an instant the newcomers stared stupidly through
the smoke at the bodies on the floor breathing stertorously,
at the young man with the lust of battle still in his face, at
the girl shrinking against the wall. It was the young man in
the serge suit who was the first to move.
"Who are you? " he demanded.
"These are burglars," said the owner of the car. "We happened
to be passing in my automobile, and----"
The young man was no longer listening. With an alert,
professional manner he had stooped over the big burglar. With
his thumb he pushed back the man's eyelids, and ran his
fingers over his throat and chin. He felt carefully of the
point of the chin, and glanced up.
"You've broken the bone," he said.
"I just swung on him," said the young man. He turned his
eyes, and suggested the presence of the girl.
At the same moment the man in the kimono cried nervously:
"Ladies present, ladies present. Go put your clothes on,
everybody; put your clothes on."
For orders the men in the doorway looked to the young man with
the stern face.
He scowled at the figure in the kimono.
"You will please go to your room, sir," he said. He stood up,
and bowed to Miss Forbes. "I beg your pardon," he asked, "you
must want to get out of this. Will you please go into the
library?"
He turned to the robust youths in the door, and pointed at the
second burglar.
"Move him out of the way," he ordered.
The man in the kimono smirked and bowed.
"Allow me," he said; "allow me to show you to the library.
This is no place for ladies."
The young man with the stern face frowned impatiently.
"You will please return to your room, sir," he repeated.
With an attempt at dignity the figure in the kimono gathered
the silk robe closer about him.
"Certainly," he said. "If you think you can get on without
me--I will retire," and lifting his bare feet mincingly, he
tiptoed away. Miss Forbes looked after him with an expression
of relief, of repulsion, of great pity.
The owner of the car glanced at the young man with the stern
face, and raised his eyebrows interrogatively.
The young man had taken the revolver from the limp fingers of
the burglar and was holding it in his hand. Winthrop gave
what was half a laugh and half a sigh of compassion.
"So, that's Carey?" he said.
There was a sudden silence. The young man with the stern face
made no answer. His head was bent over the revolver. He
broke it open, and spilled the cartridges into his palm.
Still he made no answer. When he raised his head, his eyes
were no longer stern, but wistful, and filled with an
inexpressible loneliness.
"No, _I_ am Carey," he said.
The one who had blundered stood helpless, tongue-tied, with no
presence of mind beyond knowing that to explain would offend
further.
The other seemed to feel for him more than for himself. In a
voice low and peculiarly appealing, he continued hurriedly.
"He is my doctor," he said. "He is a young man, and he has
not had many advantages--his manner is not--I find we do not
get on together. I have asked them to send me some one else."
He stopped suddenly, and stood unhappily silent. The
knowledge that the strangers were acquainted with his story
seemed to rob him of his earlier confidence. He made an
uncertain movement as though to relieve them of his presence.
Miss Forbes stepped toward him eagerly.
"You told me I might wait in the library," she said. "Will
you take me there?"
For a moment the man did not move, but stood looking at the
young and beautiful girl, who, with a smile, hid the
compassion in her eyes.
"Will you go?" he asked wistfully.
- instant [´instənt]
a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词) - softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- barrel [´bærəl] n.(琵琶)桶；圆筒 (初中英语单词)
- fright [frait] n.惊吓；恐怖；怪人 (初中英语单词)
- slightly [´slaitli] ad.轻微地；细长的 (初中英语单词)
- swiftly [´swiftli] ad.迅速地，敏捷地 (初中英语单词)
- pistol [´pistl] n.手枪 vt.用手枪射击 (初中英语单词)
- savage [´sævidʒ] a.野蛮的 n.蛮人 (初中英语单词)
- driven [´driv(ə)n] drive 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- throat [θrəut] n.咽喉；嗓子；出入口 (初中英语单词)
- doorway [´dɔ:wei] n.门口 (初中英语单词)
- pointed [´pɔintid] a.尖(锐)的；中肯的 (初中英语单词)
- dignity [´digniti] n.尊严，尊贵；高官显贵 (初中英语单词)
- relief [ri´li:f] n.救济；援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- helpless [´helpləs] a.无助的，无依靠的 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- movement [´mu:vmənt] n.活动；运动；动作 (初中英语单词)
- relieve [ri´li:v] v.救济，援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- cautiously [´kɔ:ʃəsli] ad.小心地；谨慎地 (高中英语单词)
- chuckle [´tʃʌkl] vi.&n.轻声笑；暗自笑 (高中英语单词)
- bravely [´breivli] ad.勇敢地；毅然 (高中英语单词)
- significant [sig´nifikənt] a.重要的；意义重大的 (高中英语单词)
- motionless [´məuʃənləs] a.静止的；固定的 (高中英语单词)
- honesty [´ɔnisti] n.诚实，老实 (高中英语单词)
- tumult [´tju:mʌlt, ´tu:-] n.喧哗；激昂；烦乱 (高中英语单词)
- crowded [´kraudid] a.充(拥)满了的 (高中英语单词)
- watchman [´wɔtʃmən] n.(夜间)看守人 (英语四级单词)
- revolver [ri´vɔlvə] n.左轮手枪；旋转者 (英语四级单词)
- unwilling [ʌn´wiliŋ] a.不愿意的；不情愿的 (英语四级单词)
- patter [´pætə] n.行话 v.喋喋不休 (英语四级单词)
- delighted [di´laitid] a.高兴的；喜欢的 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- vicious [´viʃəs] a.不道德的；刻毒的 (英语四级单词)
- burglar [´bə:glə] n.(入室行窃的)盗贼 (英语四级单词)
- chauffeur [´ʃəufə,ʃeu´fə:] n.(汽车)司机 (英语四级单词)
- whirlwind [´wə:l,wind] n.旋风；猛烈的势力 (英语四级单词)
- wistful [´wistfəl] a.渴望的；不满足的 (英语四级单词)
- peculiarly [pi´kju:liəli] ad.特有地；古怪地 (英语四级单词)
- trigger [´trigə] n.扳机 vt.触发，启动 (英语六级单词)
- scythe [saið] n.长柄大镰刀 (英语六级单词)
- impact [´impækt] n.影响，作用；冲击 (英语六级单词)
- robust [rəu´bʌst] a.强建的；茁壮的 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- wistfully [´wistfuli] ad.渴望地；不满足地 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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