the man who knew too much-第23节

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as　if　to　deprive　himself　of　any　excuse　for　his　refusal　of　early　rising；　had　been　the　first　to　retire　to　his　room；　but；　sleepy　as　he　looked；　he　could　not　sleep。　He　had　picked　up　from　a　table　the　book　of　antiquarian　topography；　in　which　Haddow　had　found　his　first　hints　about　the　origin　of　the　local　name；　and；　being　a　man　with　a　quiet　and　quaint　capacity　for　being　interested　in　anything；　he　began　to　read　it　steadily；　making　notes　now　and　then　of　details　on　which　his　previous　reading　left　him　with　a　certain　doubt　about　his　present　conclusions。　His　room　was　the　one　nearest　to　the　lake　in　the　center　of　the　woods；　and　was　therefore　the　quietest；　and　none　of　the　last　echoes　of　the　evening's　festivity　could　reach　him。　He　had　followed　carefully　the　argument　which　established　the　derivation　from　Mr。　Prior's　farm　and　the　hole　in　the　wall；　and　disposed　of　any　fashionable　fancy　about　monks　and　magic　wells；　when　he　began　to　be　conscious　of　a　noise　audible　in　the　frozen　silence　of　the　night。　It　was　not　a　particularly　loud　noise；　but　it　seemed　to　consist　of　a　series　of　thuds　or　heavy　blows；　such　as　might　be　struck　on　a　wooden　door　by　a　man　seeking　to　enter。　They　were　followed　by　something　like　a　faint　creak　or　crack；　as　if　the　obstacle　had　either　been　opened　or　had　given　way。　He　opened　his　own　bedroom　door　and　listened；　but　as　he　heard　talk　and　laughter　all　over　the　lower　floors；　he　had　no　reason　to　fear　that　a　summons　would　be　neglected　or　the　house　left　without　protection。　He　went　to　his　open　window；　looking　out　over　the　frozen　pond　and　the　moonlit　statue　in　the　middle　of　their　circle　of　darkling　woods；　and　listened　again。　But　silence　had　returned　to　that　silent　place；　and；　after　straining　his　ears　for　a　considerable　time；　he　could　hear　nothing　but　the　solitary　hoot　of　a　distant　departing　train。　Then　he　reminded　himself　how　many　nameless　noises　can　be　heard　by　the　wakeful　during　the　most　ordinary　night；　and　shrugging　his　shoulders；　went　wearily　to　bed。

He　awoke　suddenly　and　sat　up　in　bed　with　his　ears　filled；　as　with　thunder；　with　the　throbbing　echoes　of　a　rending　cry。　He　remained　rigid　for　a　moment；　and　then　sprang　out　of　bed；　throwing　on　the　loose　gown　of　sacking　he　had　worn　all　day。　He　went　first　to　the　window；　which　was　open；　but　covered　with　a　thick　curtain；　so　that　his　room　was　still　completely　dark；　but　when　he　tossed　the　curtain　aside　and　put　his　head　out；　he　saw　that　a　gray　and　silver　daybreak　had　already　appeared　behind　the　black　woods　that　surrounded　the　little　lake；　and　that　was　all　that　he　did　see。　Though　the　sound　had　certainly　come　in　through　the　open　window　from　this　direction；　the　whole　scene　was　still　and　empty　under　the　morning　light　as　under　the　moonlight。　Then　the　long；　rather　lackadaisical　hand　he　had　laid　on　a　window　sill　gripped　it　tighter；　as　if　to　master　a　tremor；　and　his　peering　blue　eyes　grew　bleak　with　fear。　It　may　seem　that　his　emotion　was　exaggerated　and　needless；　considering　the　effort　of　common　sense　by　which　he　had　conquered　his　nervousness　about　the　noise　on　the　previous　night。　But　that　had　been　a　very　different　sort　of　noise。　It　might　have　been　made　by　half　a　hundred　things；　from　the　chopping　of　wood　to　the　breaking　of　bottles。　There　was　only　one　thing　in　nature　from　which　could　come　the　sound　that　echoed　through　the　dark　house　at　daybreak。　It　was　the　awful　articulate　voice　of　man；　and　it　was　something　worse；　for　he　knew　what　man。

He　knew　also　that　it　had　been　a　shout　for　help。　It　seemed　to　him　that　he　had　heard　the　very　word；　but　the　word；　short　as　it　was；　had　been　swallowed　up；　as　if　the　man　had　been　stifled　or　snatched　away　even　as　he　spoke。　Only　the　mocking　reverberations　of　it　remained　even　in　his　memory；　but　he　had　no　doubt　of　the　original　voice。　He　had　no　doubt　that　the　great　bull's　voice　of　Francis　Bray；　Baron　Bulmer；　had　been　heard　for　the　last　time　between　the　darkness　and　the　lifting　dawn。

How　long　he　stood　there　he　never　knew；　but　he　was　startled　into　life　by　the　first　living　thing　that　he　saw　stirring　in　that　half…frozen　landscape。　Along　the　path　beside　the　lake；　and　immediately　under　his　window；　a　figure　was　walking　slowly　and　softly；　but　with　great　composurea　stately　figure　in　robes　of　a　splendid　scarlet；　it　was　the　Italian　prince；　still　in　his　cardinal's　costume。　Most　of　the　company　had　indeed　lived　in　their　costumes　for　the　last　day　or　two；　and　Fisher　himself　had　assumed　his　frock　of　sacking　as　a　convenient　dressing　gown；　but　there　seemed；　nevertheless；　something　unusually　finished　and　formal；　in　the　way　of　an　early　bird；　about　this　magnificent　red　cockatoo。　It　was　as　if　the　early　bird　had　been　up　all　night。

〃What　is　the　matter？〃　he　called；　sharply；　leaning　out　of　the　window；　and　the　Italian　turned　up　his　great　yellow　face　like　a　mask　of　brass。

〃We　had　better　discuss　it　downstairs；〃　said　Prince　Borodino。

Fisher　ran　downstairs；　and　encountered　the　great；　red…robed　figure　entering　the　doorway　and　blocking　the　entrance　with　his　bulk。

〃Did　you　hear　that　cry？〃　demanded　Fisher。

〃I　heard　a　noise　and　I　came　out；〃　answered　the　diplomatist；　and　his　face　was　too　dark　in　the　shadow　for　its　expression　to　be　read。

〃It　was　Bulmer's　voice；〃　insisted　Fisher。　〃I'll　swear　it　was　Bulmer's　voice。〃

〃Did　you　know　him　well？〃　asked　the　other。

The　question　seemed　irrelevant；　though　it　was　not　illogical；　and　Fisher　could　only　answer　in　a；　random　fashion　that　he　knew　Lord　Bulmer　only　slightly。

〃Nobody　seems　to　have　known　him　well；〃　continued　the　Italian；　in　level　tones。　〃Nobody　except　that　man　Brain。　Brain　is　rather　older　than　Bulmer；　but　I　fancy　they　shared　a　good　many　secrets。〃

Fisher　moved　abruptly；　as　if　waking　from　a　momentary　trance；　and　said；　in　a　new　and　more　vigorous　voice；　〃But　look　here；　hadn't　we　better　get　outside　and　see　if　anything　has　happened。〃

〃The　ice　seems　to　be　thawing；〃　said　the　other；　almost　with　indifference。

When　they　emerged　from　the　house；　dark　stains　and　stars　in　the　gray　field　of　ice　did　indeed　indicate　that　the　frost　was　breaking　up；　as　their　host　had　prophesied　the　day　before；　and　the　very　memory　of　yesterday　brought　back　the　mystery　of　to…day。

〃He　knew　there　would　be　a　thaw；〃　observed　the　prince。　〃He　went　out　skating　quite　early　on　purpose。　Did　he　call　out　because　he　landed　in　the　water；　do　you　think？〃

Fisher　looked　puzzled。　〃Bulmer　was　the　last　man　to　bellow　like　that　because　he　got　his　boots　wet。　And　that's　all　he　could　do　here；　the　water　would　hardly　come　up　to　the　calf　of　a　man　of　his　size。　You　can　see　the　flat　weeds　on　the　floor　of　the　lake；　as　if　it　were　through　a　thin　pane　of　glass。　No；　if　Bulmer　had　only　broken　the　ice　he　wouldn't　have　said　much　at　the　moment；　though　possibly　a　good　deal　afterward。　We　should　have　found　him　stamping　and　damning　up　and　down　this　path；　and　calling　for　clean　boots。〃

〃Let　us　hope　we　shall　find　him　as　happily　employed；〃　remarked　the　diplomatist。　〃In　that　case　the　voice　must　have　come　out　of　the　wood。〃

〃I'll　swear　it　didn't　come　out　of　the　house；〃　said　Fisher；　and　the　two　disappeared　together　into　the　twilight　of　wintry　trees。

The　plantation　stood　dark　against　the　fiery　colors　of　sunrise；　a　black　fringe　having　that　feathery　appearance　which　makes　trees　when　they　are　bare　the　very　reverse　of　rugged。　Hours　and　hours　afterward；　when　the　same　dense；　but　delicate；　margin　was　dark　against　the　greenish　colors　opposite　the　sunset；　the　search　thus　begun　at　sunrise　had　not　come　to　an　end。　By　successive　stages；　and　to　slowly　gathering　groups　of　the　company；　it　became　apparent　that　the　most　extraordinary　of　all　gaps　had　appeared　in　the　party；　the　guests　could　find　no　trace　of　their　host　anywhere。　The　servants　reported　that　his　bed　had　been　slept　in　and　his　skates　and　his　fancy　costume　were　gone；　as　if　he　had　risen　early　for　the　purpose　he　had　himself　avowed。　But　from　the　top　of　the　house　to　the　bottom；　from　the　walls　round　the　park　to　the　pond　in　the　center；　there　was　no　trace　of　Lord　Bulmer；　dead　or　alive。　Horne　Fisher　realized　that　a　chilling　premonition　had　already　prevented　him　from　expecting　to　find　the　man　alive。　But　his　bald　brow　was　wrinkled　over　an　entirely　new　and　unnatural　problem；　in　not　finding　the　man　at　all。

He　considered　the　possibility　of　Bulmer　having　gone　off　of　his　own　accord；　for　some　reason；　but　after　fully　weighing　it　he　finally　dismissed　it。　It　was　inconsistent　with　the　unmistakable　voice　heard　at　daybreak；　and　with　many　other　practical　obstacles。　There　was　only　one　gateway　in　the　ancient　and　lofty　wall　round　the　small　park；　the　lodge　keeper　kept　it　locked　till　late　in　the　morning；　and　the　lodge　keeper　had　seen　no　one　pass。　Fisher　was　fairly　sure　that　he　had　before　him　a　mathematical　problem　in　an　inclosed　space。　His　instinct　had　been　from　the　first　so　attuned　to　the　tragedy　that　it　would　have　been　almost　a　relief　to　him　to　find　the　corpse。　He　would　have　been　grieved；　but　not　horrified；　to　come　on　the　nobleman's　body　dangling　from　one　of　his　own　trees　as　from　a　gibbet；　or　floating　in　his　own　pool　like　a　pallid　weed。　What　horrified　him　was　to　find　nothing。

He　soon　become　conscious　that　he　was　not　alone　even　in　his　most　individual　and　isolated　experiments。　He　often　found　a　figure　following　him　like　his　shadow；　in　silent　and　almost　secret　clearings　in　the　plantation　or　outlying　nooks　and　c