the club of queer trades-第18节

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　room；　with　a　circular　wall　lined　with　books；　a　circular　table；　and　a　circular　seat　around　it。　At　this　table　sat　three　people。　One　was　Basil；　who；　in　the　instant　after　alighting　there；　had　fallen　into　an　attitude　of　marmoreal　ease　as　if　he　had　been　there　from　boyhood；　he　was　smoking　a　cigar　with　a　slow　pleasure。　The　second　was　Lieutenant　Drummond　Keith；　who　looked　happy　also；　but　feverish　and　doubtful　compared　with　his　granite　guest。　The　third　was　the　little　bald…headed　house…agent　with　the　wild　whiskers；　who　called　himself　Montmorency。　The　spears；　the　green　umbrella；　and　the　cavalry　sword　hung　in　parallels　on　the　wall。　The　sealed　jar　of　strange　wine　was　on　the　mantelpiece；　the　enormous　rifle　in　the　corner。　In　the　middle　of　the　table　was　a　magnum　of　champagne。　Glasses　were　already　set　for　us。

The　wind　of　the　night　roared　far　below　us；　like　an　ocean　at　the　foot　of　a　light…house。　The　room　stirred　slightly；　as　a　cabin　might　in　a　mild　sea。

Our　glasses　were　filled；　and　we　still　sat　there　dazed　and　dumb。　Then　Basil　spoke。

〃You　seem　still　a　little　doubtful；　Rupert。　Surely　there　is　no　further　question　about　the　cold　veracity　of　our　injured　host。〃

〃I　don't　quite　grasp　it　all；〃　said　Rupert；　blinking　still　in　the　sudden　glare。　〃Lieutenant　Keith　said　his　address　was〃

〃It's　really　quite　right；　sir；〃　said　Keith；　with　an　open　smile。　〃The　bobby　asked　me　where　I　lived。　And　I　said；　quite　truthfully；　that　I　lived　in　the　elms　on　Buxton　Common；　near　Purley。　So　I　do。　This　gentleman；　Mr　Montmorency；　whom　I　think　you　have　met　before；　is　an　agent　for　houses　of　this　kind。　He　has　a　special　line　in　arboreal　villas。　It's　being　kept　rather　quiet　at　present；　because　the　people　who　want　these　houses　don't　want　them　to　get　too　common。　But　it's　just　the　sort　of　thing　a　fellow　like　myself；　racketing　about　in　all　sorts　of　queer　corners　of　London；　naturally　knocks　up　against。〃

〃Are　you　really　an　agent　for　arboreal　villas？〃　asked　Rupert　eagerly；　recovering　his　ease　with　the　romance　of　reality。

Mr　Montmorency；　in　his　embarrassment；　fingered　one　of　his　pockets　and　nervously　pulled　out　a　snake；　which　crawled　about　the　table。

〃W…well；　yes；　sir；〃　he　said。　〃The　fact　wasermy　people　wanted　me　very　much　to　go　into　the　house…agency　business。　But　I　never　cared　myself　for　anything　but　natural　history　and　botany　and　things　like　that。　My　poor　parents　have　been　dead　some　years　now；　butnaturally　I　like　to　respect　their　wishes。　And　I　thought　somehow　that　an　arboreal　villa　agency　was　a　sort　ofof　compromise　between　being　a　botanist　and　being　a　house…agent。〃

Rupert　could　not　help　laughing。　〃Do　you　have　much　custom？〃　he　asked。

〃N…not　much；〃　replied　Mr　Montmorency；　and　then　he　glanced　at　Keith；　who　was　（I　am　convinced）　his　only　client。　〃But　what　there　isvery　select。〃

〃My　dear　friends；〃　said　Basil；　puffing　his　cigar；　〃always　remember　two　facts。　The　first　is　that　though　when　you　are　guessing　about　any　one　who　is　sane；　the　sanest　thing　is　the　most　likely；　when　you　are　guessing　about　any　one　who　is；　like　our　host；　insane；　the　maddest　thing　is　the　most　likely。　The　second　is　to　remember　that　very　plain　literal　fact　always　seems　fantastic。　If　Keith　had　taken　a　little　brick　box　of　a　house　in　Clapham　with　nothing　but　railings　in　front　of　it　and　had　written　‘The　Elms'　over　it；　you　wouldn't　have　thought　there　was　anything　fantastic　about　that。　Simply　because　it　was　a　great　blaring；　swaggering　lie　you　would　have　believed　it。〃

〃Drink　your　wine；　gentlemen；〃　said　Keith；　laughing；　〃for　this　confounded　wind　will　upset　it。〃

We　drank；　and　as　we　did　so；　although　the　hanging　house；　by　a　cunning　mechanism；　swung　only　slightly；　we　knew　that　the　great　head　of　the　elm　tree　swayed　in　the　sky　like　a　stricken　thistle。



Chapter　5

The　Noticeable　Conduct　of　Professor　Chadd

Basil　Grant　had　comparatively　few　friends　besides　myself；　yet　he　was　the　reverse　of　an　unsociable　man。　He　would　talk　to　any　one　anywhere；　and　talk　not　only　well　but　with　perfectly　genuine　concern　and　enthusiasm　for　that　person's　affairs。　He　went　through　the　world；　as　it　were；　as　if　he　were　always　on　the　top　of　an　omnibus　or　waiting　for　a　train。　Most　of　these　chance　acquaintances；　of　course；　vanished　into　darkness　out　of　his　life。　A　few　here　and　there　got　hooked　on　to　him；　so　to　speak；　and　became　his　lifelong　intimates；　but　there　was　an　accidental　look　about　all　of　them　as　if　they　were　windfalls；　samples　taken　at　random；　goods　fallen　from　a　goods　train　or　presents　fished　out　of　a　bran…pie。　One　would　be；　let　us　say；　a　veterinary　surgeon　with　the　appearance　of　a　jockey；　another；　a　mild　prebendary　with　a　white　beard　and　vague　views；　another；　a　young　captain　in　the　Lancers；　seemingly　exactly　like　other　captains　in　the　Lancers；　another；　a　small　dentist　from　Fulham；　in　all　reasonable　certainty　precisely　like　every　other　dentist　from　Fulham。　Major　Brown；　small；　dry；　and　dapper；　was　one　of　these；　Basil　had　made　his　acquaintance　over　a　discussion　in　a　hotel　cloak…room　about　the　right　hat；　a　discussion　which　reduced　the　little　major　almost　to　a　kind　of　masculine　hysterics；　the　compound　of　the　selfishness　of　an　old　bachelor　and　the　scrupulosity　of　an　old　maid。　They　had　gone　home　in　a　cab　together　and　then　dined　with　each　other　twice　a　week　until　they　died。　I　myself　was　another。　I　had　met　Grant　while　he　was　still　a　judge；　on　the　balcony　of　the　National　Liberal　Club；　and　exchanged　a　few　words　about　the　weather。　Then　we　had　talked　for　about　an　hour　about　politics　and　God；　for　men　always　talk　about　the　most　important　things　to　total　strangers。　It　is　because　in　the　total　stranger　we　perceive　man　himself；　the　image　of　God　is　not　disguised　by　resemblances　to　an　uncle　or　doubts　of　the　wisdom　of　a　moustache。

One　of　the　most　interesting　of　Basil's　motley　group　of　acquaintances　was　Professor　Chadd。　He　was　known　to　the　ethnological　world　（which　is　a　very　interesting　world；　but　a　long　way　off　this　one）　as　the　second　greatest；　if　not　the　greatest；　authority　on　the　relations　of　savages　to　language。　He　was　known　to　the　neighbourhood　of　Hart　Street；　Bloomsbury；　as　a　bearded　man　with　a　bald　head；　spectacles；　and　a　patient　face；　the　face　of　an　unaccountable　Nonconformist　who　had　forgotten　how　to　be　angry。　He　went　to　and　fro　between　the　British　Museum　and　a　selection　of　blameless　tea…shops；　with　an　armful　of　books　and　a　poor　but　honest　umbrella。　He　was　never　seen　without　the　books　and　the　umbrella；　and　was　supposed　（by　the　lighter　wits　of　the　Persian　MS。　room）　to　go　to　bed　with　them　in　his　little　brick　villa　in　the　neighbourhood　of　Shepherd's　Bush。　There　he　lived　with　three　sisters；　ladies　of　solid　goodness；　but　sinister　demeanour。　His　life　was　happy；　as　are　almost　all　the　lives　of　methodical　students；　but　one　would　not　have　called　it　exhilarating。　His　only　hours　of　exhilaration　occurred　when　his　friend；　Basil　Grant；　came　into　the　house；　late　at　night；　a　tornado　of　conversation。

Basil；　though　close　on　sixty；　had　moods　of　boisterous　babyishness；　and　these　seemed　for　some　reason　or　other　to　descend　upon　him　particularly　in　the　house　of　his　studious　and　almost　dingy　friend。　I　can　remember　vividly　（for　I　was　acquainted　with　both　parties　and　often　dined　with　them）　the　gaiety　of　Grant　on　that　particular　evening　when　the　strange　calamity　fell　upon　the　professor。　Professor　Chadd　was；　like　most　of　his　particular　class　and　type　（the　class　that　is　at　once　academic　and　middle…class）；　a　Radical　of　a　solemn　and　old…fashioned　type。　Grant　was　a　Radical　himself；　but　he　was　that　more　discriminating　and　not　uncommon　type　of　Radical　who　passes　most　of　his　time　in　abusing　the　Radical　party。　Chadd　had　just　contributed　to　a　magazine　an　article　called　〃Zulu　Interests　and　the　New　Makango　Frontier'；　in　which　a　precise　scientific　report　of　his　study　of　the　customs　of　the　people　of　T'Chaka　was　reinforced　by　a　severe　protest　against　certain　interferences　with　these　customs　both　by　the　British　and　the　Germans。　He…was　sitting　with　the　magazine　in　front　of　him；　the　lamplight　shining　on　his　spectacles；　a　wrinkle　in　his　forehead；　not　of　anger；　but　of　perplexity；　as　Basil　Grant　strode　up　and　down　the　room；　shaking　it　with　his　voice；　with　his　high　spirits　and　his　heavy　tread。

〃It's　not　your　opinions　that　I　object　to；　my　esteemed　Chadd；〃　he　was　saying；　〃it's　you。　You　are　quite　right　to　champion　the　Zulus；　but　for　all　that　you　do　not　sympathize　with　them。　No　doubt　you　know　the　Zulu　way　of　cooking　tomatoes　and　the　Zulu　prayer　before　blowing　one's　nose；　but　for　all　that　you　don't　understand　them　as　well　as　I　do；　who　don't　know　an　assegai　from　an　alligator。　You　are　more　learned；　Chadd；　but　I　am　more　Zulu。　Why　is　it　that　the　jolly　old　barbarians　of　this　earth　are　always　championed　by　people　who　are　their　antithesis？　Why　is　it？　You　are　sagacious；　you　are　benevolent；　you　are　well　informed；　but；　Chadd；　you　are　not　savage。　Live　no　longer　under　that　rosy　illusion。　Look　in　the　glass。　Ask　your　sisters。　Consult　the　librarian　of　the　British　Museum。　Look　at　this　umbrella。〃　And　he　held　up　that　sad　but　still　respectable　article。　〃Look　at　it。　For　ten　mortal　years　to　my　certain　knowledge　you　have　carried　that　object　under　your　arm；　and　I　have　no　sort　of　doubt　that　you　carried　it　at　the　age　of　eight　months；　and　it　never　occurred　to　you　to　give　one　wild　yell　and　hurl　it　like　a　javelin　thu