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第70节

classic mystery and detective stories-第70节

小说: classic mystery and detective stories 字数: 每页4000字

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his surtout was open。  He always wore a long frogged and braided

coat reaching to the kneesas I now know; for the purpose of

concealing the arm which hung (as he said; withered) at his side。

The two last fastenings were now undone。



He held in his hand a tiny chain made of very delicate wire。  This

he gave me; saying:



〃Now what would you conjecture that to be?〃



〃Had it come into my hands without any remark; I should have said

it was simply a very exquisite bit of ironwork; but your question

points to something more out of the way。〃



〃It IS iron…work;〃 he said。



Could I be deceived?  A third fastening of his surtout was undone!

I had seen but two a moment ago。



〃And what am I to conjecture?〃 I asked。



〃Where that iron came from?  It was NOT from a mine。〃  I looked at

it again; and examined it attentively。  On raising my eyes in

inquiryfortunately with an expression of surprise; since what met

my eyes would have startled a cooler manI saw the fourth

fastening undone!



〃You look surprised;〃 he continued; 〃and will be more surprised

when I tell you that the iron in your hands once floated in the

circulation of a man。  It is made from human blood。〃



〃Human blood!〃 I murmured。



He went on expounding the physiological wonders of the blood;how

it carried; dissolved in its currents; a proportion of iron and

earths; how this iron was extracted by chemists and exhibited as a

curiosity; and how this chain had been manufactured from such

extracts。  I heard every word; but my thoughts were hurrying to and

fro in the agitation of a supreme moment。  That there was a dagger

underneath that coatthat in a few moments it would flash forth

that a death…struggle was at hand;I knew well。  My safety

depended on presence of mind。  That incalculable rapidity with

which; in critical moments; the mind surveys all the openings and

resources of an emergency; had assured me that there was no weapon

within reachthat before I could give an alarm the tiger would be

at my throat; and that my only chance was to keep my eyes fixed

upon him; ready to spring on him the moment the next fastening was

undone; and before he could use his arm。



At last the idea occurred to me; that as; with a wild beast; safety

lies in attacking him just before he attacks you; so with this

beast my best chance was audacity。  Looking steadily into his face;

I said slowly:



〃And you would like to have such a chain made from my blood。〃  I

rose as I spoke。  He remained sitting; but was evidently taken

aback。



〃What do you mean?〃 he said。



〃I mean;〃 said I; sternly; 〃that your coat is unfastened; and that

if another fastening is loosened in my presence; I fell you to the

earth。〃



〃You're a fool!〃 he exclaimed。



I moved towards the door; keeping my eye fixed upon him as he sat

pale and glaring at me。



〃YOU are a fool;〃 I said〃 and worse; if you stir。〃



At this moment; I know not by what sense; as if I had eyes at the

back of my head; I was aware of some one moving behind me; yet I

dared not look aside。  Suddenly two mighty folds of darkness seemed

to envelop me like arms。  A powerful scent ascended my nostrils。

There was a ringing in my ears; a beating at my heart。  Darkness

came on; deeper and deeper; like huge waves。  I seemed growing to

gigantic stature。  The waves rolled on faster and faster。  The

ringing became a roaring。  The beating became a throbbing。  Lights

flashed across the darkness。  Forms moved before me。  On came the

waves hurrying like a tide; and I sank deeper and deeper into this

mighty sea of darkness。  Then all was silent。  Consciousness was

still。



      。        。        。        。        。        。



How long I remained unconscious; I cannot tell。  But it must have

been some considerable time。  When consciousness once more began to

dawn within me; I found myself lying on a bed surrounded by a group

of eager; watching faces; and became aware of a confused murmur of

whispering going on around me。  〃Er Lebt〃 (he lives) were the words

which greeted my opening eyeswords which I recognized as coming

from my landlord。



I had had a very narrow escape。  Another moment and I should not

have lived to tell the tale。  The dagger that had already immolated

two of Bourgonef's objects of vengeance would have been in my

breast。  As it was; at the very moment when the terrible Ivan had

thrown his arms around me and was stifling me with chloroform; one

of the servants of the hotel; alarmed or attracted by curiosity at

the sound of high words within the room; had ventured to open the

door to see what was going on。  The alarm had been given; and

Bourgonef had been arrested and handed over to the police。  Ivan;

however; had disappeared; nor were the police ever able to find

him。  This mattered comparatively little。  Ivan without his master

was no more redoubtable than any other noxious animal。  As an

accomplice; as an instrument to execute the will of a man like

Bourgonef; he was a danger to society。  The directing intelligence

withdrawn; he sank to the level of the brute。  I was not uneasy;

therefore; at his having escaped。  Sufficient for me that the real

criminal; the mind that had conceived and directed those fearful

murders; was at last in the hands of justice。  I felt that my task

had been fully accomplished when Bourgonef's head fell on the

scaffold。







The Closed Cabinet





I





It was with a little alarm and a good deal of pleasurable

excitement that I looked forward to my first grown…up visit to

Mervyn Grange。  I had been there several times as a child; but

never since I was twelve years old; and now I was over eighteen。

We were all of us very proud of our cousins the Mervyns: it is not

everybody that can claim kinship with a family who are in full and

admitted possession of a secret; a curse; and a mysterious cabinet;

in addition to the usual surplusage of horrors supplied in such

cases by popular imagination。  Some declared that a Mervyn of the

days of Henry VIII had been cursed by an injured abbot from the

foot of the gallows。  Others affirmed that a dissipated Mervyn of

the Georgian era was still playing cards for his soul in some

remote region of the Grange。  There were stories of white ladies

and black imps; of bloodstained passages and magic stones。  We;

proud of our more intimate acquaintance with the family; naturally

gave no credence to these wild inventions。  The Mervyns; indeed;

followed the accepted precedent in such cases; and greatly disliked

any reference to the reputed mystery being made in their presence;

with the inevitable result that there was no subject so

pertinaciously discussed by their friends in their absence。  My

father's sister had married the late Baronet; Sir Henry Mervyn; and

we always felt that she ought to have been the means of imparting

to us a very complete knowledge of the family secret。  But in this

connection she undoubtedly failed of her duty。  We knew that there

had been a terrible tragedy in the family some two or three hundred

years agothat a peculiarly wicked owner of Mervyn; who flourished

in the latter part of the sixteenth century; had been murdered by

his wife who subsequently committed suicide。  We knew that the

mysterious curse had some connection with this crime; but what the

curse exactly was we had never been able to discover。  The history

of the family since that time had indeed in one sense been full of

misfortune。  Not in every sense。  A coal mine had been discovered

in one part of the estate; and a populous city had grown over the

corner of another part; and the Mervyns of to…day; in spite of the

usual percentage of extravagant heirs and political mistakes; were

three times as rich as their ancestors had been。  But still their

story was full of bloodshed and shame; of tales of duels and

suicides; broken hearts and broken honor。  Only these calamities

seemed to have little or no relation to each other; and what the

precise curse was that was supposed to connect or account for them

we could not learn。  When she first married; my aunt was told

nothing about it。  Later on in life; when my father asked her for

the story; she begged him to talk upon a pleasanter subject; and

being unluckily a man of much courtesy and little curiosity; he

complied with her request。  This; however; was the only part of the

ghostly traditions of her husband's home upon which she was so

reticent。  The haunted chamber; for instancewhich; of course;

existed at the Grangeshe treated with the greatest contempt。

Various friends and relations had slept in it at different times;

and no approach to any kind of authenticated ghost…story; even of

the most trivial description; had they been able to supply。  Its

only claim to respect; indeed; was that it contained the famous

Mervyn cabinet; a fascinating puzzle of which I will speak later;

but which certai

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