章节正文
Pitman turned pale, but it was with manly indignation. 'You are
the man!' he cried. 'You very wicked person.'
'Am I to speak before him?' asked Morris, disregarding these
severe expressions.
'He has been present throughout,' said Pitman. 'He opened the
barrel; your guilty secret is already known to him, as well as to
your Maker and myself.'
'Well, then,' said Morris, 'what have you done with the money?'
'I know nothing about any money,' said Pitman.
'You needn't try that on,' said Morris. 'I have tracked you down;
you came to the station sacrilegiously disguised as a clergyman,
procured my barrel, opened it, rifled the body, and cashed the
bill. I have been to the bank, I tell you! I have followed you
step by step, and your denials are childish and absurd.'
'Come, come, Morris, keep your temper,' said Mr Appleby.
'Michael!' cried Morris, 'Michael here too!'
'Here too,' echoed the lawyer; 'here and everywhere, my good
fellow; every step you take is counted; trained detectives follow
you like your shadow; they report to me every three-quarters of
an hour; no expense is spared.'
Morris's face took on a hue of dirty grey. 'Well, I don't care; I
have the less reserve to keep,' he cried. 'That man cashed my
bill; it's a theft, and I want the money back.'
'Do you think I would lie to you, Morris?' asked Michael.
'I don't know,' said his cousin. 'I want my money.'
'It was I alone who touched the body,' began Michael.
'You? Michael!' cried Morris, starting back. 'Then why haven't
you declared the death?' 'What the devil do you mean?' asked
Michael.
'Am I mad? or are you?' cried Morris.
'I think it must be Pitman,' said Michael.
The three men stared at each other, wild-eyed.
'This is dreadful,' said Morris, 'dreadful. I do not understand
one word that is addressed to me.'
'I give you my word of honour, no more do I,' said Michael.
'And in God's name, why whiskers?' cried Morris, pointing in a
ghastly manner at his cousin. 'Does my brain reel? How whiskers?'
'O, that's a matter of detail,' said Michael.
There was another silence, during which Morris appeared to
himself to be shot in a trapeze as high as St Paul's, and as low
as Baker Street Station.
'Let us recapitulate,' said Michael, 'unless it's really a dream,
in which case I wish Teena would call me for breakfast. My friend
Pitman, here, received a barrel which, it now appears, was meant
for you. The barrel contained the body of a man. How or why you
killed him...'
'I never laid a hand on him,' protested Morris. 'This is what I
have dreaded all along. But think, Michael! I'm not that kind of
man; with all my faults, I wouldn't touch a hair of anybody's
head, and it was all dead loss to me. He got killed in that vile
accident.'
Suddenly Michael was seized by mirth so prolonged and excessive
that his companions supposed beyond a doubt his reason had
deserted him. Again and again he struggled to compose himself,
and again and again laughter overwhelmed him like a tide. In all
this maddening interview there had been no more spectral feature
than this of Michael's merriment; and Pitman and Morris, drawn
together by the common fear, exchanged glances of anxiety.
'Morris,' gasped the lawyer, when he was at last able to
articulate, 'hold on, I see it all now. I can make it clear in
one word. Here's the key: I NEVER GUESSED IT WAS UNCLE JOSEPH
TILL THIS MOMENT.'
This remark produced an instant lightening of the tension for
Morris. For Pitman it quenched the last ray of hope and daylight.
Uncle Joseph, whom he had left an hour ago in Norfolk Street,
pasting newspaper cuttings?--it?--the dead body?--then who was
he, Pitman? and was this Waterloo Station or Colney Hatch?
'To be sure!' cried Morris; 'it was badly smashed, I know. How
stupid not to think of that! Why, then, all's clear; and, my dear
Michael, I'll tell you what--we're saved, both saved. You get the
tontine--I don't grudge it you the least--and I get the leather
business, which is really beginning to look up. Declare the death
at once, don't mind me in the smallest, don't consider me;
declare the death, and we're all right.'
'Ah, but I can't declare it,' said Michael.
'Why not?' cried Morris.
'I can't produce the corpus, Morris. I've lost it,' said the
lawyer.
'Stop a bit,' ejaculated the leather merchant. 'How is this? It's
not possible. I lost it.'
'Well, I've lost it too, my son,' said Michael, with extreme
serenity. 'Not recognizing it, you see, and suspecting something
irregular in its origin, I got rid of--what shall we say?--got
rid of the proceeds at once.'
'You got rid of the body? What made you do that?' walled Morris.
'But you can get it again? You know where it is?'
'I wish I did, Morris, and you may believe me there, for it would
be a small sum in my pocket; but the fact is, I don't,' said
Michael.
'Good Lord,' said Morris, addressing heaven and earth, 'good
Lord, I've lost the leather business!'
Michael was once more shaken with laughter.
'Why do you laugh, you fool?' cried his cousin, 'you lose more
than I. You've bungled it worse than even I did. If you had a
spark of feeling, you would be shaking in your boots with
vexation. But I'll tell you one thing--I'll have that eight
hundred pound--I'll have that and go to Swan River--that's mine,
anyway, and your friend must have forged to cash it. Give me the
eight hundred, here, upon this platform, or I go straight to
Scotland Yard and turn the whole disreputable story inside out.'
'Morris,' said Michael, laying his hand upon his shoulder, 'hear
reason. It wasn't us, it was the other man. We never even
searched the body.'
'The other man?' repeated Morris.
'Yes, the other man. We palmed Uncle Joseph off upon another
man,' said Michael.
'You what? You palmed him off? That's surely a singular
expression,' said Morris.
'Yes, palmed him off for a piano,' said Michael with perfect
simplicity. 'Remarkably full, rich tone,' he added.
Morris carried his hand to his brow and looked at it; it was wet
with sweat. 'Fever,' said he.
'No, it was a Broadwood grand,' said Michael. 'Pitman here will
tell you if it was genuine or not.'
'Eh? O! O yes, I believe it was a genuine Broadwood; I have
played upon it several times myself,' said Pitman. 'The
three-letter E was broken.'
'Don't say anything more about pianos,' said Morris, with a
strong shudder; 'I'm not the man I used to be! This--this other
man--let's come to him, if I can only manage to follow. Who is
he? Where can I get hold of him?'
'Ah, that's the rub,' said Michael. 'He's been in possession of
the desired article, let me see--since Wednesday, about four
o'clock, and is now, I should imagine, on his way to the isles of
Javan and Gadire.'
'Michael,' said Morris pleadingly, 'I am in a very weak state,
and I beg your consideration for a kinsman. Say it slowly again,
and be sure you are correct. When did he get it?'
Michael repeated his statement.
'Yes, that's the worst thing yet,' said Morris, drawing in his
breath.
'What is?' asked the lawyer.
'Even the dates are sheer nonsense,' said the leather merchant.
'The bill was cashed on Tuesday. There's not a gleam of reason in
the whole transaction.'
A young gentleman, who had passed the trio and suddenly started
and turned back, at this moment laid a heavy hand on Michael's
shoulder.
'Aha! so this is Mr Dickson?' said he.
The trump of judgement could scarce have rung with a more
dreadful note in the ears of Pitman and the lawyer. To Morris
this erroneous name seemed a legitimate enough continuation of
the nightmare in which he had so long been wandering. And when
Michael, with his brand-new bushy whiskers, broke from the grasp
of the stranger and turned to run, and the weird little shaven
creature in the low-necked shirt followed his example with a
bird-like screech, and the stranger (finding the rest of his prey
escape him) pounced with a rude grasp on Morris himself, that
gentleman's frame of mind might be very nearly expressed in the
colloquial phrase: 'I told you so!'
'I have one of the gang,' said Gideon Forsyth.
'I do not understand,' said Morris dully.
'O, I will make you understand,' returned Gideon grimly.
'You will be a good friend to me if you can make me understand
anything,' cried Morris, with a sudden energy of conviction.
'I don't know you personally, do I?' continued Gideon, examining
his unresisting prisoner. 'Never mind, I know your friends. They
are your friends, are they not?'
'I do not understand you,' said Morris.
'You had possibly something to do with a piano?' suggested
Gideon.
'A piano!' cried Morris, convulsively clasping Gideon by the arm.
'Then you're the other man! Where is it? Where is the body? And
did you cash the draft?'
'Where is the body? This is very strange,' mused Gideon. 'Do you
want the body?'
'Want it?' cried Morris. 'My whole fortune depends upon it! I
lost it. Where is it? Take me to it?
'O, you want it, do you? And the other man, Dickson--does he want
it?' enquired Gideon.
'Who do you mean by Dickson? O, Michael Finsbury! Why, of course
he does! He lost it too. If he had it, he'd have won the tontine
tomorrow.'
'Michael Finsbury! Not the solicitor?' cried Gideon. 'Yes, the
solicitor,' said Morris. 'But where is the body?'
'Then that is why he sent the brief! What is Mr Finsbury's
private address?' asked Gideon.
'233 King's Road. What brief? Where are you going? Where is the
body?' cried Morris, clinging to Gideon's arm.
'I have lost it myself,' returned Gideon, and ran out of the
station.
CHAPTER XV. The Return of the Great Vance
Morris returned from Waterloo in a frame of mind that baffles
description. He was a modest man; he had never conceived an
overweening notion of his own powers; he knew himself unfit to
write a book, turn a table napkin-ring, entertain a Christmas
party with legerdemain--grapple (in short) any of those
conspicuous accomplishments that are usually classed under the
head of genius. He knew--he admitted--his parts to be pedestrian,
but he had considered them (until quite lately) fully equal to
the demands of life. And today he owned himself defeated: life
had the upper hand; if there had been any means of flight or
place to flee to, if the world had been so ordered that a man
could leave it like a place of entertainment, Morris would have
instantly resigned all further claim on its rewards and
pleasures, and, with inexpressible contentment, ceased to be. As
it was, one aim shone before him: he could get home. Even as the
sick dog crawls under the sofa, Morris could shut the door of
John Street and be alone.
The dusk was falling when he drew near this place of refuge; and
the first thing that met his eyes was the figure of a man upon
the man!' he cried. 'You very wicked person.'
'Am I to speak before him?' asked Morris, disregarding these
severe expressions.
'He has been present throughout,' said Pitman. 'He opened the
barrel; your guilty secret is already known to him, as well as to
your Maker and myself.'
'Well, then,' said Morris, 'what have you done with the money?'
'I know nothing about any money,' said Pitman.
'You needn't try that on,' said Morris. 'I have tracked you down;
you came to the station sacrilegiously disguised as a clergyman,
procured my barrel, opened it, rifled the body, and cashed the
bill. I have been to the bank, I tell you! I have followed you
step by step, and your denials are childish and absurd.'
'Come, come, Morris, keep your temper,' said Mr Appleby.
'Michael!' cried Morris, 'Michael here too!'
'Here too,' echoed the lawyer; 'here and everywhere, my good
fellow; every step you take is counted; trained detectives follow
you like your shadow; they report to me every three-quarters of
an hour; no expense is spared.'
Morris's face took on a hue of dirty grey. 'Well, I don't care; I
have the less reserve to keep,' he cried. 'That man cashed my
bill; it's a theft, and I want the money back.'
'Do you think I would lie to you, Morris?' asked Michael.
'I don't know,' said his cousin. 'I want my money.'
'It was I alone who touched the body,' began Michael.
'You? Michael!' cried Morris, starting back. 'Then why haven't
you declared the death?' 'What the devil do you mean?' asked
Michael.
'Am I mad? or are you?' cried Morris.
'I think it must be Pitman,' said Michael.
The three men stared at each other, wild-eyed.
'This is dreadful,' said Morris, 'dreadful. I do not understand
one word that is addressed to me.'
'I give you my word of honour, no more do I,' said Michael.
'And in God's name, why whiskers?' cried Morris, pointing in a
ghastly manner at his cousin. 'Does my brain reel? How whiskers?'
'O, that's a matter of detail,' said Michael.
There was another silence, during which Morris appeared to
himself to be shot in a trapeze as high as St Paul's, and as low
as Baker Street Station.
'Let us recapitulate,' said Michael, 'unless it's really a dream,
in which case I wish Teena would call me for breakfast. My friend
Pitman, here, received a barrel which, it now appears, was meant
for you. The barrel contained the body of a man. How or why you
killed him...'
'I never laid a hand on him,' protested Morris. 'This is what I
have dreaded all along. But think, Michael! I'm not that kind of
man; with all my faults, I wouldn't touch a hair of anybody's
head, and it was all dead loss to me. He got killed in that vile
accident.'
Suddenly Michael was seized by mirth so prolonged and excessive
that his companions supposed beyond a doubt his reason had
deserted him. Again and again he struggled to compose himself,
and again and again laughter overwhelmed him like a tide. In all
this maddening interview there had been no more spectral feature
than this of Michael's merriment; and Pitman and Morris, drawn
together by the common fear, exchanged glances of anxiety.
'Morris,' gasped the lawyer, when he was at last able to
articulate, 'hold on, I see it all now. I can make it clear in
one word. Here's the key: I NEVER GUESSED IT WAS UNCLE JOSEPH
TILL THIS MOMENT.'
This remark produced an instant lightening of the tension for
Morris. For Pitman it quenched the last ray of hope and daylight.
Uncle Joseph, whom he had left an hour ago in Norfolk Street,
pasting newspaper cuttings?--it?--the dead body?--then who was
he, Pitman? and was this Waterloo Station or Colney Hatch?
'To be sure!' cried Morris; 'it was badly smashed, I know. How
stupid not to think of that! Why, then, all's clear; and, my dear
Michael, I'll tell you what--we're saved, both saved. You get the
tontine--I don't grudge it you the least--and I get the leather
business, which is really beginning to look up. Declare the death
at once, don't mind me in the smallest, don't consider me;
declare the death, and we're all right.'
'Ah, but I can't declare it,' said Michael.
'Why not?' cried Morris.
'I can't produce the corpus, Morris. I've lost it,' said the
lawyer.
'Stop a bit,' ejaculated the leather merchant. 'How is this? It's
not possible. I lost it.'
'Well, I've lost it too, my son,' said Michael, with extreme
serenity. 'Not recognizing it, you see, and suspecting something
irregular in its origin, I got rid of--what shall we say?--got
rid of the proceeds at once.'
'You got rid of the body? What made you do that?' walled Morris.
'But you can get it again? You know where it is?'
'I wish I did, Morris, and you may believe me there, for it would
be a small sum in my pocket; but the fact is, I don't,' said
Michael.
'Good Lord,' said Morris, addressing heaven and earth, 'good
Lord, I've lost the leather business!'
Michael was once more shaken with laughter.
'Why do you laugh, you fool?' cried his cousin, 'you lose more
than I. You've bungled it worse than even I did. If you had a
spark of feeling, you would be shaking in your boots with
vexation. But I'll tell you one thing--I'll have that eight
hundred pound--I'll have that and go to Swan River--that's mine,
anyway, and your friend must have forged to cash it. Give me the
eight hundred, here, upon this platform, or I go straight to
Scotland Yard and turn the whole disreputable story inside out.'
'Morris,' said Michael, laying his hand upon his shoulder, 'hear
reason. It wasn't us, it was the other man. We never even
searched the body.'
'The other man?' repeated Morris.
'Yes, the other man. We palmed Uncle Joseph off upon another
man,' said Michael.
'You what? You palmed him off? That's surely a singular
expression,' said Morris.
'Yes, palmed him off for a piano,' said Michael with perfect
simplicity. 'Remarkably full, rich tone,' he added.
Morris carried his hand to his brow and looked at it; it was wet
with sweat. 'Fever,' said he.
'No, it was a Broadwood grand,' said Michael. 'Pitman here will
tell you if it was genuine or not.'
'Eh? O! O yes, I believe it was a genuine Broadwood; I have
played upon it several times myself,' said Pitman. 'The
three-letter E was broken.'
'Don't say anything more about pianos,' said Morris, with a
strong shudder; 'I'm not the man I used to be! This--this other
man--let's come to him, if I can only manage to follow. Who is
he? Where can I get hold of him?'
'Ah, that's the rub,' said Michael. 'He's been in possession of
the desired article, let me see--since Wednesday, about four
o'clock, and is now, I should imagine, on his way to the isles of
Javan and Gadire.'
'Michael,' said Morris pleadingly, 'I am in a very weak state,
and I beg your consideration for a kinsman. Say it slowly again,
and be sure you are correct. When did he get it?'
Michael repeated his statement.
'Yes, that's the worst thing yet,' said Morris, drawing in his
breath.
'What is?' asked the lawyer.
'Even the dates are sheer nonsense,' said the leather merchant.
'The bill was cashed on Tuesday. There's not a gleam of reason in
the whole transaction.'
A young gentleman, who had passed the trio and suddenly started
and turned back, at this moment laid a heavy hand on Michael's
shoulder.
'Aha! so this is Mr Dickson?' said he.
The trump of judgement could scarce have rung with a more
dreadful note in the ears of Pitman and the lawyer. To Morris
this erroneous name seemed a legitimate enough continuation of
the nightmare in which he had so long been wandering. And when
Michael, with his brand-new bushy whiskers, broke from the grasp
of the stranger and turned to run, and the weird little shaven
creature in the low-necked shirt followed his example with a
bird-like screech, and the stranger (finding the rest of his prey
escape him) pounced with a rude grasp on Morris himself, that
gentleman's frame of mind might be very nearly expressed in the
colloquial phrase: 'I told you so!'
'I have one of the gang,' said Gideon Forsyth.
'I do not understand,' said Morris dully.
'O, I will make you understand,' returned Gideon grimly.
'You will be a good friend to me if you can make me understand
anything,' cried Morris, with a sudden energy of conviction.
'I don't know you personally, do I?' continued Gideon, examining
his unresisting prisoner. 'Never mind, I know your friends. They
are your friends, are they not?'
'I do not understand you,' said Morris.
'You had possibly something to do with a piano?' suggested
Gideon.
'A piano!' cried Morris, convulsively clasping Gideon by the arm.
'Then you're the other man! Where is it? Where is the body? And
did you cash the draft?'
'Where is the body? This is very strange,' mused Gideon. 'Do you
want the body?'
'Want it?' cried Morris. 'My whole fortune depends upon it! I
lost it. Where is it? Take me to it?
'O, you want it, do you? And the other man, Dickson--does he want
it?' enquired Gideon.
'Who do you mean by Dickson? O, Michael Finsbury! Why, of course
he does! He lost it too. If he had it, he'd have won the tontine
tomorrow.'
'Michael Finsbury! Not the solicitor?' cried Gideon. 'Yes, the
solicitor,' said Morris. 'But where is the body?'
'Then that is why he sent the brief! What is Mr Finsbury's
private address?' asked Gideon.
'233 King's Road. What brief? Where are you going? Where is the
body?' cried Morris, clinging to Gideon's arm.
'I have lost it myself,' returned Gideon, and ran out of the
station.
CHAPTER XV. The Return of the Great Vance
Morris returned from Waterloo in a frame of mind that baffles
description. He was a modest man; he had never conceived an
overweening notion of his own powers; he knew himself unfit to
write a book, turn a table napkin-ring, entertain a Christmas
party with legerdemain--grapple (in short) any of those
conspicuous accomplishments that are usually classed under the
head of genius. He knew--he admitted--his parts to be pedestrian,
but he had considered them (until quite lately) fully equal to
the demands of life. And today he owned himself defeated: life
had the upper hand; if there had been any means of flight or
place to flee to, if the world had been so ordered that a man
could leave it like a place of entertainment, Morris would have
instantly resigned all further claim on its rewards and
pleasures, and, with inexpressible contentment, ceased to be. As
it was, one aim shone before him: he could get home. Even as the
sick dog crawls under the sofa, Morris could shut the door of
John Street and be alone.
The dusk was falling when he drew near this place of refuge; and
the first thing that met his eyes was the figure of a man upon
- wicked [´wikid]
a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词) - guilty [´gilti] a.有罪的；心虚的 (初中英语单词)
- barrel [´bærəl] n.(琵琶)桶；圆筒 (初中英语单词)
- childish [´tʃaildiʃ] a.孩子的；幼稚的 (初中英语单词)
- lawyer [´lɔ:jə] n.律师；法学家 (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- compose [kəm´pəuz] v.组成；创作；作曲 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- interview [´intəvju:] n.&vt.接见；会见；交谈 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- origin [´ɔridʒin] n.起源；由来；出身 (初中英语单词)
- shaken [´ʃeikən] shake的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- platform [´plætfɔ:m] n.(平)台；讲台；站台 (初中英语单词)
- wednesday [´wenzdi] n.星期三 (初中英语单词)
- consideration [kən,sidə´reiʃən] n.考虑；原因；体谅 (初中英语单词)
- judgement [´dʒʌdʒmənt] n.审判；报应；批评 (初中英语单词)
- scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
- phrase [freiz] n.短语；词组；措词 (初中英语单词)
- energy [´enədʒi] n.活力，精力；能力 (初中英语单词)
- modest [´mɔdist] a.谦虚的；朴素的 (初中英语单词)
- entertain [,entə´tein] vt.招待；娱乐；使高兴 (初中英语单词)
- genius [´dʒi:niəs] n.天才(人物)；天赋 (初中英语单词)
- flight [flait] n.逃走；飞行；班机 (初中英语单词)
- entertainment [,entə´teinmənt] n.招(款)待；联欢会 (初中英语单词)
- refuge [´refju:dʒ] v.&n.避难(所)；庇护 (初中英语单词)
- indignation [,indig´neiʃən] n.愤慨；气愤 (高中英语单词)
- grudge [grʌdʒ] vt.&n.吝啬；怨恨 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- genuine [´dʒenjuin] a.真正的；真诚的 (高中英语单词)
- shudder [´ʃʌdə] n.&vi.震颤；发抖 (高中英语单词)
- legitimate [li´dʒitimit] a.合法的 vt.使合法 (高中英语单词)
- personally [´pə:sənəli] ad.亲自；就个人来说 (高中英语单词)
- merriment [´merimənt] n.欢乐 (英语四级单词)
- tension [´tenʃən] n.紧张；压力；拉力 (英语四级单词)
- drawing [´drɔ:iŋ] n.画图；制图；图样 (英语四级单词)
- continuation [kən,tinju´eiʃən] n.继续(部分)；续篇 (英语四级单词)
- nightmare [´naitmeə] n.梦魇；恶梦 (英语四级单词)
- screech [skri:tʃ] v.&n.尖叫(声) (英语四级单词)
- contentment [kən´tentmənt] n.满足；使人满意的事 (英语四级单词)
- erroneous [i´rəuniəs] a.错误的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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