酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

New Arabian Nights-Part21_ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON(1850-1894)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页
remind you, is too muddy for such airs. Trust me, or leave me



alone and find some one else; but let us have an end, for God's

sake, of your jeremiads."



"I am beginning to learn the world," replied the other, "and I see

that you have every reason to play me false, and not one to deal



honestly. I am not here to pick expressions either; you wish the

diamond for yourself; you know you do - you dare not deny it. Have



you not already forged my name, and searched my lodging in my

absence? I understand the cause of your delays; you are lying in



wait; you are the diamond hunter, forsooth; and sooner or later, by

fair means or foul, you'll lay your hands upon it. I tell you, it



must stop; push me much further and I promise you a surprise."

"It does not become you to use threats," returned Vandeleur. "Two



can play at that. My brother is here in Paris; the police are on

the alert; and if you persist in wearying me with your



caterwauling, I will arrange a little astonishment for you, Mr.

Rolles. But mine shall be once and for all. Do you understand, or



would you prefer me to tell it you in Hebrew? There is an end to

all things, and you have come to the end of my patience. Tuesday,



at seven; not a day, not an hour sooner, not the least part of a

second, if it were to save your life. And if you do not choose to



wait, you may go to the bottomless pit for me, and welcome."

And so saying, the Dictator arose from the bench, and marched off



in the direction of Montmartre, shaking his head and swinging his

cane with a most furious air; while his companion remained where he



was, in an attitude of great dejection.

Francis was at the pitch of surprise and horror; his sentiments had



been shocked to the last degree; the hopefultenderness with which

he had taken his place upon the bench was transformed into



repulsion and despair; old Mr. Scrymgeour, he reflected, was a far

more kindly and creditable parent than this dangerous and violent



intriguer; but he retained his presence of mind, and suffered not a

moment to elapse before he was on the trail of the Dictator.



That gentleman's fury carried him forward at a brisk pace, and he

was so completely occupied in his angry thoughts that he never so



much as cast a look behind him till he reached his own door.

His house stood high up in the Rue Lepic, commanding a view of all



Paris and enjoying the pure air of the heights. It was two storeys

high, with green blinds and shutters; and all the windows looking



on the street were hermetically closed. Tops of trees showed over

the high garden wall, and the wall was protected by CHEVAUX-DE-



FRISE. The Dictator paused a moment while he searched his pocket

for a key; and then, opening a gate, disappeared within the



enclosure.

Francis looked about him; the neighbourhood was very lonely, the



house isolated in its garden. It seemed as if his observation must

here come to an abrupt end. A second glance, however, showed him a



tall house next door presenting a gable to the garden, and in this

gable a single window. He passed to the front and saw a ticket



offering unfurnished lodgings by the month; and, on inquiry, the

room which commanded the Dictator's garden proved to be one of



those to let. Francis did not hesitate a moment; he took the room,

paid an advance upon the rent, and returned to his hotel to seek



his baggage.

The old man with the sabre-cut might or might not be his father; he



might or he might not be upon the true scent; but he was certainly

on the edge of an exciting mystery, and he promised himself that he



would not relax his observation until he had got to the bottom of

the secret.



From the window of his new apartment Francis Scrymgeour commanded a

complete view into the garden of the house with the green blinds.



Immediately below him a very comelychestnut with wide boughs

sheltered a pair of rustic tables where people might dine in the



height of summer. On all sides save one a dense vegetation

concealed the soil; but there, between the tables and the house, he



saw a patch of gravel walk leading from the verandah to the garden-

gate. Studying the place from between the boards of the Venetian



shutters, which he durst not open for fear of attracting attention,

Francis observed but little to indicate the manners of the



inhabitants, and that little argued no more than a close reserve

and a taste for solitude. The garden was conventual, the house had






文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号