pgw.uneasymoney-第25部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　'What　nonsense！　You　must　be　mistaken。　He　said　he　knew　Claire　quite　well。'
　'But　when　you　suggested　that　he　should　meet　her　he　ran。'
　This　aspect　of　the　matter　had　not　occurred　to　Lady　Wetherby。
　'So　he　did！'
　'What　did　he　tell　you　that　showed　he　knew　Claire？'
　'Well；　now　that　I　e　to　think　of　it；　he　didn't　tell　me　anything。　I　did　the　talking。　He　just　sat　there。'
　Mr　Pickering　quivered　with　bined　fear　and　excitement　and　inductive　reasoning。
　'It　was　a　trick！'　he　cried。　'Remember　what　Sherriff　said　that　night　when　I　told　you　about　finding　the　man　looking　in　at　the　window？　He　said　that　the　fellow　was　spying　round　as　a　preliminary　move。　To…day　he　trumps　up　an　obviously　false　excuse　for　getting　into　the　house。　Was　he　left　alone　in　the　rooms　at　all？'
　'Yes。　Wrench　loosed　him　in　here　and　then　came　up　to　tell　me。'
　'For　several　minutes；　then；　he　was　alone　in　the　house。　Why；　he　had　time　to　do　all　he　wanted　to　do！'
　'Calm　down！'
　'I　am　perfectly　calm。　But'
　'You've　been　seeing　too　many　crook　plays；　Dudley。　A　man　isn't　necessarily　a　burglar　because　he　wears　a　decent　suit　of　clothes。'
　'Why　was　he　lurking　in　the　grounds　that　night？'
　'You're　just　imagining　that　it　was　the　same　man。'
　'I　am　absolutely　positive　it　was　the　same　man。'
　'Well；　we　can　easily　settle　one　thing　about　him；　at　any　rate。　Here　es　Claire。　Claire；　old　girl；'　she　said；　as　the　door　opened；　'do　you　know　a　man　namedDarn　it！　I　never　got　his　name；　but　he's'
　Claire　stood　in　the　doorway；　looking　from　one　to　the　other。
　'What's　the　matter；　Dudley？'　she　said。
　'Dudley's　gone　clean　up　in　the　air；'　explained　Lady　Wetherby；　tolerantly。　'A　friend　of　yours　called　to　tell　me　he　had　seen　Eustace'
　'So　that　was　his　excuse；　was　it？'　said　Dudley　Pickering。　'Did　he　say　where　Eustace　was？'
　'No；　he　said　he　had　seen　him；　that　was　all'
　'An　obviously　trumped…up　story。　He　had　heard　of　Eustace's　escape　and　he　knew　that　any　story　connected　with　him　would　be　a　passport　into　the　house。'
　Lady　Wetherby　turned　to　Claire。
　'You　haven't　told　us　yet　if　you　know　the　man。　He　was　a　big；　tall；　broad　gazook；'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'Very　English'
　'He　faked　the　English；'　said　Dudley　Pickering。　'That　man　was　no　more　an　Englishman　than　I　am。'
　'Be　patient　with　him；　Claire；'　urged　Lady　Wetherby。　'He's　been　going　to　the　movies　too　much；　and　thinks　every　man　who　has　had　his　trousers　pressed　is　a　social　gangster。　This　man　was　the　most　English　thing　I've　ever　seentalked　like　this。'
　She　gave　a　passable　reproduction　of　Bill's　speech。　Claire　started。
　'I　don't　know　him！'　she　cried。
　Her　mind　was　in　a　whirl　of　agitation。　Why　had　Bill　e　to　the　house？　What　had　he　said？　Had　he　told　Dudley　anything？
　'I　don't　recognize　the　description；'　she　said；　quickly。　'I　don't　know　anything　about　him。'
　'There！'　said　Dudley　Pickering；　triumphantly。
　'It's　queer；'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'You're　sure　you　don't　know　him；　Claire？'
　'Absolutely　sure。'
　'He　said　he　was　living　at　a　place　near　here；　called　Flack's。'
　'I　know　the　place；'　said　Dudley　Pickering。　'A　sinister；　tumbledown　sort　of　place。　Just　where　a　bunch　of　crooks　would　be　living。'
　'I　thought　it　was　a　bee…farm；'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'One　of　the　tradesmen　told　me　about　it。　I　saw　a　most　corkingly　pretty　girl　bicycling　down　to　the　village　one　morning；　and　they　told　me　she　was　named　Boyd　and　kept　a　bee…farm　at　Flack's。'
　'A　blind！'　said　Mr　Pickering；　stoutly。　'The　girl's　the　man's　acplice。　It's　quite　easy　to　see　the　way　they　work。　The　girl　es　and　settles　in　the　place　so　that　everybody　knows　her。　That's　to　lull　suspicion。　Then　the　man　es　down　for　a　visit　and　goes　about　cleaning　up　the　neighbouring　houses。　You　can't　get　away　from　the　fact　that　this　summer　there　have　been　half　a　dozen　burglaries　down　here；　and　nobody　has　found　out　who　did　them。'
　Lady　Wetherby　looked　at　him　indulgently。
　'And　now；'　she　said；　'having　got　us　scared　stiff；　what　are　you　going　to　do　about　it？'
　'I　am　going；'　he　said；　with　determination；　'to　take　steps。'
　He　went　out　quickly；　the　keen；　tense　man　of　affairs。
　'Bless　him！'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'I'd　no　idea　your　Dudley　had　so　much　imagination；　Claire。　He's　a　perfect　bomb…shell。'
　Claire　laughed　shakily。
　'It　is　odd；　though；'　said　Lady　Wetherby；　meditatively；　'that　this　man　should　have　said　that　he　knew　you；　when　you　don't'
　Claire　turned　impulsively。
　'Polly；　I　want　to　tell　you　something。　Promise　you　won't　tell　Dudley。　I　wasn't　telling　the　truth　just　now。　I　do　know　this　man。　I　was　engaged　to　him　once。'
　'What！'
　'For　goodness'　sake　don't　tell　Dudley！'
　'But'
　'It's　all　over　now；　but　I　used　to　be　engaged　to　him。'
　'Not　when　I　was　in　England？'
　'No；　after　that。'
　'Then　he　didn't　know　you　are　engaged　to　Dudley　now？'
　'N…no。　II　haven't　seen　him　for　a　long　time。'
　Lady　Wetherby　looked　remorseful。
　'Poor　man！　I　must　have　given　him　a　jolt！　But　why　didn't　you　tell　me　about　him　before？'　　'Oh；　I　don't　know。'
　'Oh；　well；　I'm　not　inquisitive。　There's　no　rubber　in　my　position。　It's　your　affair。'
　'You　won't　tell　Dudley？'
　'Of　course　not。　But　why　not？　You've　nothing　to　be　ashamed　of。'
　'No；　but'
　'Well；　I　won't　tell　him；　anyway。　But　I'm　glad　you　told　me　about　him。　Dudley　was　so　eloquent　about　burglars　that　he　almost　had　me　going。　I　wonder　where　he　rushed　off　to？'
　Dudley　Pickering　had　rushed　off　to　his　bedroom；　and　was　examining　a　revolver　there。　He　examined　it　carefully；　keenly。　Preparedness　was　Dudley　Pickering's　slogan。　He　looked　rather　like　a　stout　sheriff　in　a　film　drama。
　
　16
　In　the　interesting　land　of　India；　where　snakes　abound　and　scorpions　are　mon　objects　of　the　wayside；　a　native　who　has　had　the　misfortune　to　be　bitten　by　one　of　the　latter　pursues　an　admirably　mon…sense　plan。　He　does　not　stop　to　lament；　nor　does　he　hang　about　analysing　his　emotions。　He　runs　and　runs　and　runs；　and　keeps　on　running　until　he　has　worked　the　poison　out　of　his　system。　Not　until　then　does　he　attempt　introspection。
　Lord　Dawlish；　though　ignorant　of　this　fact；　pursued　almost　identically　the　same　policy。　He　did　not　run　on　leaving　Lady　Wetherby's　house；　but　he　took　a　very　long　and　very　rapid　walk；　than　which　in　times　of　stress　there　are　few　things　of　greater　medicinal　value　to　the　human　mind。　To　increase　the　similarity；　he　was　conscious　of　a　curious　sense　of　being　poisoned。　He　felt　stifledin　want　of　air。
　Bill　was　a　simple　young　man；　and　he　had　a　simple　code　of　ethics。　Above　all　things　he　prized　and　admired　and　demanded　from　his　friends　the　quality　of　straightness。　It　was　his　one　demand。　He　had　never　actually　had　a　criminal　friend；　but　he　was　quite　capable　of　intimacy　with　even　a　criminal；　provided　only　that　there　was　something　spacious　about　his　brand　of　crime　and　that　it　did　not　involve　anything　mean　or　underhand。　It　was　the　fact　that　Mr　Breitstein　whom　Claire　had　wished　him　to　insinuate　into　his　club；　though　acquitted　of　actual　crime；　had　been　proved　guilty　of　meanness　and　treachery；　that　had　so　prejudiced　Bill　against　him。　The　worst　accusation　that　he　could　bring　against　a　man　was　that　he　was　not　square；　that　he　had　not　played　the　game。
　Claire　had　not　been　square。　It　was　that；　more　than　the　shock　of　surprise　of　Lady　Wetherby's　news；　that　had　sent　him　striding　along　the　State　Road　at　the　rate　of　five　miles　an　hour；　staring　before　him　with　unseeing　eyes。　A　sudden　recollection　of　their　last　interview　brought　a　dull　flush　to　Bill's　face　and　accelerated　his　speed。　He　felt　physically　ill。
　It　was　not　immediately　that　he　had　arrived　at　even　this　sketchy　outline　of　his　feelings。　For　perhaps　a　mile　he　walked　as　the　scorpion…stung　natives　runblindly；　wildly；　with　nothing　in　his　mind　but　a　desire　to　walk　faster　and　faster；　to　walk　as　no　man　had　ever　walked　before。　And　thenone　does　not　wish　to　be　unduly　realistic；　but　the　fact　is　too　important　to　be　ignoredhe　began　to　perspire。　And　hard　upon　that　unrefined　but　wonder…working　flow　came　a　certain　healing　of　spirit。　Dimly　at　first　but　every　moment　more　clearly；　he　found　it　possible　to　think。
　In　a　man　of　Bill's　temperament　there　are　so　many　qualities　wounded　by　a　blow　such　as　he　had　received；　that　it　is　hardly　surprising　that　his　emotions；　when　he　began　to　examine　them；　were　mixed。　Now　one；　now　another；　of　his　wounds　presented　itself　to　his　notice。　And　then　individual　wounds　would　bee　difficult　to　distinguish　in　the　mass　of　injuries。　Spiritually；　he　was　in　the　position　of　a　man　who　has　been　hit　simultaneously　in　a　number　of　sensitive　spots　by　a　variety　of　hard　and　hurtful　things。　He　was　as　little　able；　during　the　early　stages　of　his　meditations；　to　say　where　he　was　hurt　most　as　a　man　who　had　been　stabbed　in　the　back；　bitten　in　the　ankle；　hit　in　the　eye；　smitten　with　a　blackjack；　and　kicked　on　the　shin　in　the　same　moment　of　time。　All　that　such　a　man　would　be　able　to　say　with　certainty　would　be　that　unpleasant　things　had　happened　to　him；　and　that　was　all　that　Bill　was　able　to　say。
　Little　by　little；　walking　swiftly　the　while；　he　began　to　make　a　rough　inventory。　He　sorted　out　his　injuries；　catalogued　them。　It　was　perhaps　his　self…esteem　that　had　suffered　least　of　all；　for　he　was　by　nature　modest。　He　had　a　savage　humility；　valuable　in　a　crisis　of　this　sort。
　But　he　looked　up　to　Claire。　He　had　thought　her　straight。　And　all　the　time　t