rr.eastofealing-第9部分

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　'I　don't　recognize　it。'
　The　splish…splash　of　the　oars　echoed　about　the　vast　cavern；　eventually　losing　itself　in　the　endless　silence　of　the　pit。
　'How　do　you　know　which　way　we're　going？'
　Soap　pointed　to　his　luminous　watch。　'Lodestone；'　he　said　informatively。
　'Oh；　that　lad。'
　'There；'　said　Soap　suddenly。　'Dead　ahead；　land　ho。'
　Before　them　in　the　distance　an　island　loomed　and　as　they　drew　nearer；　the　makings　of　a　mausoleum　wrought　in　marble；　very　much　after　the　style　of　the　Albert　Memorial；　made　itself　apparent。
　'What　is　it？'　Omally　asked。　'King　Arthur's　tomb；　don't　tell　me。'　Soap　tapped　at　his　all　but　transparent　nose。　The　coracle　beached　upon　the　shoreline　and　Soap　stepped　out　to　secure　it　to　a　frescoed　pillar。　The　two　inebriate　sub…earth　travellers　shrugged　and　followed　the　pale　man　as　he　strode　forward。　'It　was　never　like　this　for　Jerome　K　Jerome；'　said　Pooley。
　The　strange　edifice　was；　if　anything；　a　work　of　inspiration。　Marble　pilasters；　cunningly　wrought　with　carved　tracery…work；　soared　upwards　to　dwindle　into　a　high…domed　ceiling　which　glittered　with　golden　mosaic。　Above；　tapering　gothic　spires　lost　themselves　in　the　darkness。
　'Here　it　is；'　said　Soap。　The　two　wonderers　halted　in　their　tracks。　In　the　very　centre　of　this　Victorian　folly　stood　something　so　totally　out　of　place　as　to　take　the　breath　from　their　lungs。　It　was　a　cylinder　of　bright　sparkling　metal；　but　it　was　of　no　metal　that　any　man　of　Earth　had　yet　seen。　It　glistened　with　an　oily　sheen　and　swam　through　a　spectrum　of　colours；　reflecting　mirror…like。　A　broad　panel　of　what　might　have　been　glass；　but　probably　was　not；　lay　set　into　a　section　of　the　cylinder's　apparent　lid；　and　it　was　over　this　that　the　three　visitors　to　this　sunken　marvel　craned　their　necks。
　'Strike　me　down；'　said　Jim　Pooley。
　'By　Michael　and　the　other　lads；'　said　John　Omally。
　'Good；　eh？'　said　Soap　Distant。
　'But　who　is　he？'
　Beneath　the　glazed　panel；　reclining　upon　satin　cushioning；　his　head　upon　a　linen　pillow；　lay　the　body　of　a　man。　He　was　of　indeterminate　age；　his　hair　jet…black　and　bed　away　behind　his　ears。　He　had　high　cheek…bones　and　a　great　hawk　of　a　nose。　The　face　bore　an　indefinable　grandeur；　one　of　ancient　aristocracy。　From　what　was　immediately　visible；　he　appeared　to　be　wearing　a　high　wing…collared　shirt；　dark　tie　affixed　with　a　crested　stud；　and　a　silken　dressing…gown。
　'He　seems；　almost；　well；　alive；'　said　Omally。
　Soap　pointed　towards　the　gowned　chest；　and　it　could　be　clearly　observed　that　it　slowly　rose　and　fell。　'Indubitably；'　said　he。
　'But　this　thing？　Who　built　it　and　why？'
　'Best　thing　is　to　up　the　lid　and　ask　him。'
　Pooley　had　more　than　a　few　doubts　upon　this　score。　'He　looks　pretty　peaceful　to　me；'　he　said。　'Best　to　leave　him　alone。　No　business　of　ours　this。'
　'I　think　somehow　that　it　is；'　said　Soap；　and　his　tone　left　little　doubt　that　he　did。
　'This　thing　doesn't　belong；'　said　Omally。　'It　is　all　wrong。　Victorian　mausoleum　all　well　and　good；　but　this？　This　is　no　product　of　our　age　even。'
　'Herein　lies　the　mystery；'　said　Soap。　'Give　us　a　hand　then；　thirty　quid　for　a　quick　heave。'
　Pooley　shook　his　head　so　vigorously　that　it　made　him　more　dizzy　than　he　already　was。　'I　think　not；　Soap。　We　are　tampering　with　something　which　is　none　of　our　business。　Only　sorrow　will　e　out　of　it；　mark　my　words。　〃He　that　diggeth　a　pit　will　fall。。。〃'
　'I　know　all　that；'　said　Soap。　'Kindly　take　hold　of　the　top　end。　I　had　it　giving　a　little。'
　'Not　me；'　said　Jim；　folding　his　arms。
　'Jim；'　said　John。　'Do　you　know　the　way　back？'
　'That　way。'　Pooley　pointed　variously　about。
　'I　see。　And　do　you　think　that　Soap　will　guide　us　if　we　do　not　assist　him？'
　'Well；　I。。。'
　'Top　end；'　said　Soap。　'I　had　it　giving　a　little。'
　The　three　men　applied　themselves　to　the　lid　of　the　glistening　cylinder；　and　amidst　much　grunting；　puffing；　and　cursing；　there　was　a　sharp　click；　a　sudden　rushing　of　air；　and　a　metallic　clang　as　the　object　of　their　efforts　tumbled　aside　to　fall　upon　the　marble　flooring　of　the　outré　construction。　Three　faces　appeared　once　more　over　the　rim　of　the　metal　sarcophagus。
　The　gaunt　man　lay　corpse…like　but　for　his　gently…heaving　chest；　his　face　was　placid　and　without　expression。　Then　suddenly　the　eyelids　snapped　wide；　the　lips　opened　to　draw　in　a　great　gulp　of　air　and　the　chest　rose　higher　than　before。　A　cry　arose　from　his　mouth　and　three　faces　ducked　away　to　reappear　as　a　trinity　of　Chads；　noses　crooked　above　the　coffin's　edge。　The　occupant　stretched　up　his　arms　and　yawned　loudly。　His　eyes　flickered　wildly　about。　He　snatched　at　the　coffin's　side；　and　drew　himself　up。
　He　caught　sight　of　the　three　now…cowering　men；　and　a　look　of　perplexity　clouded　his　face。　'What　year　is　this？'　he　demanded。
　Omally　volunteered　the　information。
　'Too　early；　you　have　broken　the　seal。'
　'Told　you；'　said　Jim。　'Leave　well　enough　alone　I　said。　But　does　anybody　ever　listen　to　me；　do　they。。。　？'
　'Shut　up；'　said　Soap；　'and　kindly　give　me　a　hand。'　With　the　aid　of　Omally　he　helped　the　bemused…looking　man　in　the　dressing…gown　up　from　the　steely　cylinder　and　into　the　upright　position。　'Are　you　feeling　yourself　now？'　The　tall　man；　as　now　he　revealed　himself　to　be；　did　not　reply；　but　simply　stood　stretching　his　limbs　and　shaking　his　head。　'e　quickly　now；'　said　Soap。　'We　must　take　him　at　once　to　Professor　Slobe。'
　The　journey　back　was　to　say　the　very　least　uneventful。　The　gaunt　man　in　the　dressing…gown　sat　staring　into　space　while　Omally；　under　Soap's　direction；　applied　himself　to　the　oars。　Pooley；　who　had　by　now　given　up　the　ghost；　slept　soundly；　his　dreams　full　of　six…horse　accumulators　ing　up　at　stupendous　odds　and　rocketing　him　into　the　super…dooper　tax　bracket。　Of　a　sudden；　these　dreams　dissolved　as　Omally　dug　him　firmly　in　the　ribs　and　said；　'We　are　going　up。'
　They　made　a　strange　procession　through　Brentford's　night…time　streets。　The　pale　ghost　of　a　man；　now　once　more　clad　in　a　cloak　and　hood；　leading　a　striking　figure　in　a　silk　dressing…gown；　and　followed　by　two　stumbling；　drunken　bums。　Vile　Tony　Watkins　who　ran　the　Nocturnal　Street　Cleaning　truck　watched　them　pass；　and　a　few　swear　words　of　his　own　invention　slipped　from　between　his　dumb　lips。
　As　the　four　men　entered　the　sweeping　tree…lined　drive　which　swept　into　the　Butts　Estate；　one　lone　light　glowed　in　the　distance；　shining　from　Professor　Slobe's　ever…open　French　windows。
　The　odd　party　finally　paused　before　the　Professor's　garden　door　and　Omally　pressed　his　hand　to　the　bolt。　Through　the　open　windows　all　could　view　the　venerable　scholar　as　he　bent　low　over　the　manuscripts　and　priceless　books。　As　they　drew　nearer　he　set　his　quill　pen　aside　and　turned　to　greet　them。
　'So；'　said　he；　rising　with　difficulty　from　his　leather　chair。　'Visitors　at　such　a　late　hour。　And　to　what　do　I　owe　the　pleasure？'
　'Sorry　to　interrupt　your　work；'　said　Omally；　who　was　now　at　the　vanguard。　'But　we　have；　well；　how　shall　I　put　it。。。　？'
　The　tall　man　in　the　dressing…gown　thrust　his　way　past　Omally　and　stood　framed　in　the　doorway。　A　broad　smile　suddenly　broke　out　upon　his　bleak　countenance。　'Professor；'　said　he。　'We　meet　again。'
　'My　word；'　said　the　other。　'This　is　a　most　pleasant　if　unexpected　surprise。'
　The　tall　man　stepped　forward　and　wrung　the　ancient's　hand　between　his　own。
　'You　mean　you　know　who　he　is？'　asked　Omally　incredulously。　Pooley　was　supporting　himself　upon　the　door…frame。
　'Have　you　not　been　formally　introduced？'　enquired　the　Professor。　Omally　shook　his　head。
　'Then　allow　me　to　do　the　honours。　Soap　Distant；　John　Omally；　Jim　Pooley；　gentlemen；　it　is　my　pleasure　to　present　Mr　Sherlock　Holmes；　formerly　of　221b　Baker　Street。'　
　'Your　servant；'　said　that　very　man。
　
　9
　Professor　Slobe　closed　and　bolted　the　long　shutters　upon　his　French　windows。　When　his　guests　had　seated　themselves；　he　moved　amongst　them；　distributing　drinks　and　cigarettes。　Sherlock　Holmes　lounged　in　a　high　leather…backed　fireside　chair　and　accepted　a　Turkish　cigarette。　'My　thanks；　Professor；'　said　he。　'I　see　that　you　still　favour　the　same　brand。'
　The　Professor　smiled　and　seated　himself。　'I　think　that　we　have　much　to　speak　of；　Sherlock。　Your　arrival　here；　although　bringing　me　untold　joy　at　the　pleasure　of　meeting　once　more　a　noble　friend；　is；　to　say　the　least；　a　little　perplexing。'
　Holmes　drew　deeply　upon　his　cigarette　and　blew　out　a　plume　of　light　blue　smoke。　'It　is　a　singular　business　and　no　mistake。'
　Pooley　and　Omally；　who　had　been　shaking　their　heads　in　disbelief　and　generally　making　with　the　rumbles　of　suspicion；　gave　the　thing　up　and　slumped　in　their　seats　sipping　liquor。
　'It　all　truly　began；'　said　Holmes；　'one　foggy　November　night　back　in　Eighteen…ninety。　The　previous　month　had　been　a　successful　one　for　me；　having　solved　the　remarkable　case　of　the　Naval　Treaty　and　been　more　than　adequately　rewarded　by　Lord　Holdhurst。　I　was　experiencing　a　brief　period　of　inactivity　and　as　you　will　recall；　such　spells　are　no　good　to　me。　My　soul　as　ever　ached　for　the　thrill　of　the　chase；　the　challenge　of　pitting　one's　wits　against　some　diabolic　adversary；　the　blood　coursing　through　the　temples；　the　rushing　of。。。'
　'Quite　so；'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'Your　enthusiasm　for　your　work　is　well…recorded。　Upon　this　particular　evening