classic mystery and detective stories-第49节

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that　which　is　the　cause　or　the　effect　of　simple　jollity。　　In　a

word；　I　thought　I　beheld　RELIGION　mixing　in　the　dance；　but；　as　I

had　never　seen　her　so　engaged；　I　should　have　looked　upon　it　now　as

one　of　the　illusions　of　an　imagination；　which　is　eternally

misleading　me；　had　not　the　old　man；　as　soon　as　the　dance　ended；

said　that　this　was　their　constant　way；　and　that　all　his　life　long

he　had　made　it　a　rule；　after　supper　was　over；　to　call　out　his

family　to　dance　and　rejoice；　believing；　he　said；　that　a　cheerful

and　contented　mind　was　the　best　sort　of　thanks　to　heaven　that　an

illiterate　peasant　could　pay



〃Or　a　learned　prelate　either；〃　said　I。



When　you　have　gained　the　top　of　Mount　Taurira；　you　run　presently

down　to　Lyons。　　Adieu　then　to　all　rapid　movements！　　It　is　a　journey

of　caution；　and　it　fares　better　with　sentiments　not　to　be　in　a

hurry　with　them；　so　I　contracted　with　a　volturin　to　take　his　time

with　a　couple　of　mules　and　convey　me　in　my　own　chaise　safe　to　Turin

through　Savoy。



Poor；　patient；　quiet；　honest　people；　fear　not！　　Your　poverty；　the

treasury　of　your　simple　virtues；　will　not　be　envied　you　by　the

world；　nor　will　your　values　be　invaded　by　it。　　Nature；　in　the　midst

of　thy　disorders；　thou　art　still　friendly　to　the　scantiness　thou

hast　created；　with　all　thy　great　works　about　thee　little　hast　thou

left　to　give；　either　to　the　scythe　or　to　the　sickle；　but　to　that

little　thou　grantest　safety　and　protection；　and　sweet　are　the

dwellings　which　stand　so　sheltered！







William　Makepeace　Thackeray





On　Being　Found　Out





At　the　close　（let　us　say）　of　Queen　Anne's　reign；　when　I　was　a　boy

at　a　private　and　preparatory　school　for　young　gentlemen；　I　remember

the　wiseacre　of　a　master　ordering　us　all；　one　night；　to　march　into

a　little　garden　at　the　back　of　the　house；　and　thence　to　proceed　one

by　one　into　a　tool　or　hen　house　（I　was　but　a　tender　little　thing

just　put　into　short　clothes；　and　can't　exactly　say　whether　the

house　was　for　tools　or　hens）；　and　in　that　house　to　put　our　hands

into　a　sack　which　stood　on　a　bench；　a　candle　burning　beside　it。　　I

put　my　hand　into　the　sack。　　My　hand　came　out　quite　black。　　I　went

and　joined　the　other　boys　in　the　schoolroom；　and　all　their　hands

were　black　too。



By　reason　of　my　tender　age　（and　there　are　some　critics　who；　I　hope；

will　be　satisfied　by　my　acknowledging　that　I　am　a　hundred　and

fifty…six　next　birthday）　I　could　not　understand　what　was　the

meaning　of　this　night　excursionthis　candle；　this　tool　house；　this

bag　of　soot。　　I　think　we　little　boys　were　taken　out　of　our　sleep　to

be　brought　to　the　ordeal。　　We　came；　then；　and　showed　our　little

hands　to　the　master；　washed　them　or　notmost　probably；　I　should

say；　notand　so　went　bewildered　back　to　bed。



Something　had　been　stolen　in　the　school　that　day；　and　Mr。　Wiseacre

having　read　in　a　book　of　an　ingenious　method　of　finding　out　a　thief

by　making　him　put　his　hand　into　a　sack　（which；　if　guilty；　the　rogue

would　shirk　from　doing）；　all　we　boys　were　subjected　to　the　trial。

Goodness　knows　what　the　lost　object　was；　or　who　stole　it。　　We　all

had　black　hands　to　show　the　master。　　And　the　thief；　whoever　he　was；

was　not　Found　Out　that　time。



I　wonder　if　the　rascal　is　alivean　elderly　scoundrel　he　must　be　by

this　time；　and　a　hoary　old　hypocrite；　to　whom　an　old　schoolfellow

presents　his　kindest　regardsparenthetically　remarking　what　a

dreadful　place　that　private　school　was；　cold；　chilblains；　bad

dinners；　not　enough　victuals；　and　caning　awful！Are　you　alive

still；　I　say；　you　nameless　villain；　who　escaped　discovery　on　that

day　of　crime？　　I　hope　you　have　escaped　often　since；　old　sinner。

Ah；　what　a　lucky　thing　it　is；　for　you　and　me；　my　man；　that　we　are

NOT　found　out　in　all　our　peccadilloes；　and　that　our　backs　can　slip

away　from　the　master　and　the　cane！



Just　consider　what　life　would　be；　if　every　rogue　was　found　out；　and

flogged　coram　populo！　　What　a　butchery；　what　an　indecency；　what　an

endless　swishing　of　the　rod！　　Don't　cry　out　about　my　misanthropy。

My　good　friend　Mealymouth；　I　will　trouble　you　to　tell　me；　do　you　go

to　church？　　When　there；　do　you　say；　or　do　you　not；　that　you　are　a

miserable　sinner；　and　saying　so　do　you　believe　or　disbelieve　it？

If　you　are　a　M。　S。；　don't　you　deserve　correction；　and　aren't　you

grateful　if　you　are　to　be　let　off？　　I　say　again　what　a　blessed

thing　it　is　that　we　are　not　all　found　out！



Just　picture　to　yourself　everybody　who　does　wrong　being　found　out；

and　punished　accordingly。　　Fancy　all　the　boys　in　all　the　school

being　whipped；　and　then　the　assistants；　and　then　the　headmaster

（Dr。　Badford　let　us　call　him）。　　Fancy　the　provost　marshal　being

tied　up；　having　previously　superintended　the　correction　of　the

whole　army。　　After　the　young　gentlemen　have　had　their　turn　for　the

faulty　exercises；　fancy　Dr。　Lincolnsinn　being　taken　up　for　certain

faults　in　HIS　Essay　and　Review。　　After　the　clergyman　has　cried　his

peccavi；　suppose　we　hoist　up　a　bishop；　and　give　him　a　couple　of

dozen！　　（I　see　my　Lord　Bishop　of　Double…Gloucester　sitting　in　a

very　uneasy　posture　on　his　right　reverend　bench。）　　After　we　have

cast　off　the　bishop；　what　are　we　to　say　to　the　Minister　who

appointed　him？　　My　Lord　Cinqwarden；　it　is　painful　to　have　to　use

personal　correction　to　a　boy　of　your　age；　but　really　。　。　。　Siste

tandem　carnifex！　　The　butchery　is　too　horrible。　　The　hand　drops

powerless；　appalled　at　the　quantity　of　birch　which　it　must　cut　and

brandish。　　I　am　glad　we　are　not　all　found　out；　I　say　again；　and

protest；　my　dear　brethren；　against　our　having　our　deserts。



To　fancy　all　men　found　out　and　punished　is　bad　enough；　but　imagine

all　the　women　found　out　in　the　distinguished　social　circle　in　which

you　and　I　have　the　honor　to　move。　　Is　it　not　a　mercy　that　a　many　of

these　fair　criminals　remain　unpunished　and　undiscovered！　　There　is

Mrs。　Longbow；　who　is　forever　practicing；　and　who　shoots　poisoned

arrows；　too；　when　you　meet　her　you　don't　call　her　liar；　and　charge

her　with　the　wickedness　she　has　done　and　is　doing。　　There　is　Mrs。

Painter；　who　passes　for　a　most　respectable　woman；　and　a　model　in

society。　　There　is　no　use　in　saying　what　you　really　know　regarding

her　and　her　goings　on。　　There　is　Diana　Hunterwhat　a　little

haughty　prude　it　is；　and　yet　WE　know　stories　about　her　which　are

not　altogether　edifying。　　I　say　it　is　best　for　the　sake　of　the

good；　that　the　bad　should　not　all　be　found　out。　　You　don't　want

your　children　to　know　the　history　of　that　lady　in　the　next　box；　who

is　so　handsome；　and　whom　they　admire　so。　　Ah　me；　what　would　life　be

if　we　were　all　found　out　and　punished　for　all　our　faults？　　Jack

Ketch　would　be　in　permanence；　and　then　who　would　hang　Jack　Ketch？



They　talk　of　murderers　being　pretty　certainly　found　out。　　Psha！　　I

have　heard　an　authority　awfully　competent　vow　and　declare　that

scores　and　hundreds　of　murders　are　committed；　and　nobody　is　the

wiser。　　That　terrible　man　mentioned　one　or　two　ways　of　committing

murder；　which　he　maintained　were　quite　common；　and　were　scarcely

ever　found　out。　　A　man；　for　instance；　comes　home　to　his　wife；

and　。　。　。　but　I　pauseI　know　that　this　Magazine　has　a　very　large

circulation。*　　Hundreds　and　hundreds　of　thousandswhy　not　say　a

million　of　people　at　once？well；　say　a　million；　read　it。　　And

among　these　countless　readers；　I　might　be　teaching　some　monster　how

to　make　away　with　his　wife　without　being　found　out；　some　fiend　of　a

woman　how　to　destroy　her　dear　husband。　　I　will　NOT　then　tell　this

easy　and　simple　way　of　murder；　as　communicated　to　me　by　a　most

respectable　party　in　the　confidence　of　private　intercourse。

Suppose　some　gentle　reader　were　to　try　this　most　simple　and　easy

receiptit　seems　to　me　almost　infallibleand　come　to　grief　in

consequence；　and　be　found　out　and　hanged？　　Should　I　ever　pardon

myself　for　having　been　the　means　of　doing　injury　to　a　single　one　of

our　esteemed　subscribers？　　The　prescription　whereof　I　speakthat

is　to　say；　whereof　I　DON'T　speakshall　be　buried　in　this　bosom。

No；　I　am　a　humane　man。　　I　am　not　one　of　your　Bluebeards　to　go　and

say　to　my　wife；　〃My　dear！　I　am　going　away　for　a　few　days　to

Brighton。　　Here　are　all　the　keys　of　the　house。　　You　may　open　every

door　and　closet；　except　the　one　at　the　end　of　the　oak　room　opposite

the　fireplace；　with　the　little　bronze　Shakespeare　on　the

mantelpiece　（or　what　not）。〃　　I　don't　say　this　to　a　womanunless；

to　be　sure；　I　want　to　get　rid　of　herbecause；　after　such　a

caution；　I　know　she'll　peep　into　the　closet。　　I　say　nothing　about

the　closet　at　all。　　I　keep　the　key　in　my　pocket；　and　a　being　whom　I

love；　but　who；　as　I　know；　has　many　weaknesses；　out　of　harm's　way。

You　toss　up　your　head；　dear　angel；　drub　on　the　ground　with　your

lovely　little　feet；　on　the　table　with　your　sweet　rosy　fingers；　and

cry；　〃Oh；　sneerer！　　You　don't　know　the　depth　of　woman's　feeling；

the　lofty　scorn　of　all　deceit；　the　entire　absence　of　mean　curiosity

in　the　sex；　or　never；　never　would　you　lib