within the tides-第31节
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remembered it now。 It had said： 〃Mr。 Byrne！ Look out； sir！〃 A
warning this。 But against what？
He landed with one leap in the middle of the floor； gasped once；
then looked all round the room。 The window was shuttered and
barred with an iron bar。 Again he ran his eyes slowly all round
the bare walls； and even looked up at the ceiling； which was rather
high。 Afterwards he went to the door to examine the fastenings。
They consisted of two enormous iron bolts sliding into holes made
in the wall； and as the corridor outside was too narrow to admit of
any battering arrangement or even to permit an axe to be swung；
nothing could burst the door open … unless gunpowder。 But while he
was still making sure that the lower bolt was pushed well home； he
received the impression of somebody's presence in the room。 It was
so strong that he spun round quicker than lightning。 There was no
one。 Who could there be？ And yet 。 。 。
It was then that he lost the decorum and restraint a man keeps up
for his own sake。 He got down on his hands and knees； with the
lamp on the floor； to look under the bed； like a silly girl。 He
saw a lot of dust and nothing else。 He got up； his cheeks burning；
and walked about discontented with his own behaviour and
unreasonably angry with Tom for not leaving him alone。 The words：
〃Mr。 Byrne！ Look out； sir；〃 kept on repeating themselves in his
head in a tone of warning。
〃Hadn't I better just throw myself on the bed and try to go to
sleep；〃 he asked himself。 But his eyes fell on the tall wardrobe；
and he went towards it feeling irritated with himself and yet
unable to desist。 How he could explain to…morrow the burglarious
misdeed to the two odious witches he had no idea。 Nevertheless he
inserted the point of his hanger between the two halves of the door
and tried to prize them open。 They resisted。 He swore； sticking
now hotly to his purpose。 His mutter： 〃I hope you will be
satisfied； confound you；〃 was addressed to the absent Tom。 Just
then the doors gave way and flew open。
He was there。
He … the trusty； sagacious； and courageous Tom was there； drawn up
shadowy and stiff； in a prudent silence； which his wide…open eyes
by their fixed gleam seemed to command Byrne to respect。 But Byrne
was too startled to make a sound。 Amazed； he stepped back a little
… and on the instant the seaman flung himself forward headlong as
if to clasp his officer round the neck。 Instinctively Byrne put
out his faltering arms； he felt the horrible rigidity of the body
and then the coldness of death as their heads knocked together and
their faces came into contact。 They reeled； Byrne hugging Tom
close to his breast in order not to let him fall with a crash。 He
had just strength enough to lower the awful burden gently to the
floor … then his head swam； his legs gave way； and he sank on his
knees； leaning over the body with his hands resting on the breast
of that man once full of generous life； and now as insensible as a
stone。
〃Dead！ my poor Tom； dead；〃 he repeated mentally。 The light of the
lamp standing near the edge of the table fell from above straight
on the stony empty stare of these eyes which naturally had a mobile
and merry expression。
Byrne turned his own away from them。 Tom's black silk neckerchief
was not knotted on his breast。 It was gone。 The murderers had
also taken off his shoes and stockings。 And noticing this
spoliation； the exposed throat； the bare up…turned feet； Byrne felt
his eyes run full of tears。 In other respects the seaman was fully
dressed； neither was his clothing disarranged as it must have been
in a violent struggle。 Only his checked shirt had been pulled a
little out the waistband in one place； just enough to ascertain
whether he had a money belt fastened round his body。 Byrne began
to sob into his handkerchief。
It was a nervous outburst which passed off quickly。 Remaining on
his knees he contemplated sadly the athletic body of as fine a
seaman as ever had drawn a cutlass； laid a gun； or passed the
weather earring in a gale； lying stiff and cold； his cheery；
fearless spirit departed … perhaps turning to him； his boy chum； to
his ship out there rolling on the grey seas off an iron…bound
coast； at the very moment of its flight。
He perceived that the six brass buttons of Tom's jacket had been
cut off。 He shuddered at the notion of the two miserable and
repulsive witches busying themselves ghoulishly about the
defenceless body of his friend。 Cut off。 Perhaps with the same
knife which 。 。 。 The head of one trembled； the other was bent
double； and their eyes were red and bleared； their infamous claws
unsteady。 。 。 It must have been in this very room too； for Tom
could not have been killed in the open and brought in here
afterwards。 Of that Byrne was certain。 Yet those devilish crones
could not have killed him themselves even by taking him unawares …
and Tom would be always on his guard of course。 Tom was a very
wide awake wary man when engaged on any service。 。 。 And in fact
how did they murder him？ Who did？ In what way？
Byrne jumped up； snatched the lamp off the table； and stooped
swiftly over the body。 The light revealed on the clothing no
stain； no trace； no spot of blood anywhere。 Byrne's hands began to
shake so that he had to set the lamp on the floor and turn away his
head in order to recover from this agitation。
Then he began to explore that cold； still； and rigid body for a
stab； a gunshot wound； for the trace of some killing blow。 He felt
all over the skull anxiously。 It was whole。 He slipped his hand
under the neck。 It was unbroken。 With terrified eyes he peered
close under the chin and saw no marks of strangulation on the
throat。
There were no signs anywhere。 He was just dead。
Impulsively Byrne got away from the body as if the mystery of an
incomprehensible death had changed his pity into suspicion and
dread。 The lamp on the floor near the set； still face of the
seaman showed it staring at the ceiling as if despairingly。 In the
circle of light Byrne saw by the undisturbed patches of thick dust
on the floor that there had been no struggle in that room。 〃He has
died outside；〃 he thought。 Yes； outside in that narrow corridor；
where there was hardly room to turn； the mysterious death had come
to his poor dear Tom。 The impulse of snatching up his pistols and
rushing out of the room abandoned Byrne suddenly。 For Tom； too；
had been armed … with just such powerless weapons as he himself
possessed … pistols； a cutlass！ And Tom had died a nameless death；
by incomprehensible means。
A new thought came to Byrne。 That stranger knocking at the door
and fleeing so swiftly at his appearance had come there to remove
the body。 Aha！ That was the guide the withered witch had promised
would show the English officer the shortest way of rejoining his
man。 A promise； he saw it now； of dreadful import。 He who had
knocked would have two bodies to deal with。 Man and officer would
go forth from the house together。 For Byrne was certain now that
he would have to die before the morning … and in the same
mysterious manner； leaving behind him an unmarked body。
The sight of a smashed head； of a throat cut； of a gaping gunshot
wound； would have been an inexpressible relief。 It would have
soothed all his fears。 His soul cried within him to that dead man
whom he had never found wanting in danger。 〃Why don't you tell me
what I am to look for； Tom？ Why don't you？〃 But in rigid
immobility； extended on his back； he seemed to preserve an austere
silence； as if disdaining in the finality of his awful knowledge to
hold converse with the living。
Suddenly Byrne flung himself on his knees by the side of the body；
and dry…eyed； fierce； opened the shirt wide on the breast； as if to
tear the secret forcibly from that cold heart which had been so
loyal to him in life！ Nothing！ Nothing！ He raised the lamp； and
all the sign vouchsafed to him by that face which used to be so
kindly in expression was a small bruise on the forehead … the least
thing； a mere mark。 The skin even was not broken。 He stared at it
a long time as if lost in a dreadful dream。 Then he observed that
Tom's hands were clenched as though he had fallen facing somebody
in a fight with fists。 His knuckles； on closer view； appeared
somewhat abraded。 Both hands。
The discovery of these slight signs was more appalling to Byrne
than the absolute absence of every mark would have been。 So Tom
had died striking against something which could be hit； and yet
co
