the lodger-第16部分

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》From　the　chest　of　drawers　she　now　turned　her　attention　to　the　dressing…table。

Mr。　Sleuth　did　not　take　his　money　with　him　when　he　went　out；　he　generally　left　it　in　one　of　the　drawers　below　the　old…fashioned　looking…glass。　　And　now；　in　a　perfunctory　way；　his　landlady　pulled　out　the　little　drawer；　but　she　did　not　touch　what　was　lying　there；　she　only　glanced　at　the　heap　of　sovereigus　and　a　few　bits　of　silver。　The　lodger　had　taken　just　enough　money　with　him　to　buy　the　clothes　he　required。　　He　had　consulted　her　as　to　how　much　they　would　cost；　making　no　secret　of　why　he　was　going　out；　and　the　fact　had　vaguely　comforted　Mrs。　Bunting。

Now　she　lifted　the　toilet…cover；　and　even　rolled　up　the　carpet　a　little　way；　but　no；　there　was　nothing　there；　not　so　much　as　a　scrap　of　paper。　　And　at　last；　when　more　or　less　giving　up　the　search；　as　she　came　and　went　between　the　two　rooms；　leaving　the　connecting　door　wide　open；　her　mind　became　full　of　uneasy　speculation　and　wonder　as　to　the　lodger's　past　life。

Odd　Mr。　Sleuth　must　surely　always　have　been；　but　odd　in　a　sensible　sort　of　way；　having　on　the　whole　the　same　moral　ideals　of　conduct　as　have　other　people　of　his　class。　　He　was　queer　about　the　drink…one　might　say　almost　crazy　on　the　subject　…　but　there；　as　to　that；　he　wasn't　the　only　one！　　She。　　Ellen　Bunting；　had　once　lived　with　a　lady　who　was　just　like　that；　who　was　quite　crazed；　that　is；　on　the　question　of　drink　and　drunkards　…　　She　looked　round　the　neat　drawing…room　with　vague　dissatisfaction。　　There　was　only　one　place　where　anything　could　be　kept　concealed　…　that　place　was　the　substantial　if　small　mahogany　chiffonnier。　　And　then　an　idea　suddenly　came　to　Mrs。　Bunting；　one　she　had　never　thought　of　before。

After　listening　intently　for　a　moment；　lest　something　should　suddenly　bring　Mr。　Sleuth　home　earlier　than　she　expected；　she　went　to　the　corner　where　the　chiffonnier　stood；　and；　exerting　the　whole　of　her　not　very　great　physical　strength；　she　tipped　forward　the　heavy　piece　of　furniture。

As　she　did　so；　she　heard　a　queer　rumbling　sound；　…　something　rolling　about　on　the　second　shelf；　something　which　had　not　been　there　before　Mr。　Sleuth's　arrival。　　Slowly；　laboriously；　she　tipped　the　chiffonnier　backwards　and　forwards　…　once；　twice；　thrice　…　satisfied；　yet　strangely　troubled　in　her　mind；　for　she　now　felt　sure　that　the　bag　of　which　the　disappearance　had　so　surprised　her　was　there；　safely　locked　away　by　its　owner。

Suddenly　a　very　uncomfortable　thought　came　to　Mrs。　Buntlng's　mind。　She　hoped　Mr。　Sleuth　would　not　notice　that　his　bag　had　shifted　inside　the　cupboard。　　A　moment　later；　with　sharp　dismay；　Mr。　Sleuth's　landlady　realised　that　the　fact　that　she　had　moved　the　chiffonnier　must　become　known　to　her　lodger；　for　a　thin　trickle　of　some　dark…coloured　liquid　was　oozing　out　though　the　bottom　of　the　little　cupboard　door。

She　stooped　down　and　touched　the　stuff。　　It　showed　red；　bright　red；　on　her　finger。

Mrs。　Bunting　grew　chalky　white；　then　recovered　herself　quickly。　　In　fact　the　colour　rushed　into　her　face；　and　she　grew　hot　all　over。

It　was　only　a　bottle　of　red　ink　she　had　upset　…　that　was　all！　　How　could　she　have　thought　it　was　anything　else？

It　was　the　more　silly　of　her　…　so　she　told　herself　in　scornful　condemnation　…　because　she　knew　that　the　lodger　used　red　ink。　Certain　pages　of　Cruden's　Concordance　were　covered　with　notes　written　in　Mr。　Sleuth's　peculiar　upright　handwriting。　　In　fact　in　some　places　you　couldn't　see　the　margin；　so　closely　covered　was　it　with　remarks　and　notes　of　interrogation。

Mr　Sleuth　had　foolishly　placed　his　bottle　of　red　ink　in　the　chiffonnier　…　that　was　what　her　poor；　foolish　gentleman　had　done；　and　it　was　owing　to　her　inquisitiveness；　her　restless　wish　to　know　things　she　would　be　none　the　better；　none　the　happier；　for　knowing；　that　this　accident　had　taken　place。

She　mopped　up　with　her　duster　the　few　drops　of　ink　which　had　fallen　on　the　green　carpet　and　then；　still　feeling；　as　she　angrily　told　herself；　foolishly　upset　she　went　once　more　into　the　back　room。

It　was　curious　that　Mr。　Sleuth　possessed　no　notepaper。　　She　would　have　expected　him　to　have　made　that　one　of　his　first　purchases　…　the　more　so　that　paper　is　so　very　cheap；　especially　that　rather　dirty…looking　grey　Silurian　paper。　　Mrs。　Buntlng　had　once　lived　with　a　lady　who　always　used　two　kinds　of　notepaper；　white　for　her　friends　and　equals；　grey　for　those　whom　she　called　〃common　people。〃　　She；　Ellen　Green；　as　she　then　was；　had　always　resented　the　fact。　　Strange　she　should　remember　it　now；　stranger　in　a　way　because　that　employer　of　her's　had　not　been　a　real　lady；　and　Mr。　Sleuth；　whatever　his　peculiarities；　was；　in　every　sense　of　the　word；　a　real　gentleman。　Somehow　Mrs。　Bunting　felt　sure　that　if　he　had　bought　any　notepaper　it　would　have　been　white　…　white　and　probably　cream…laid　…　not　grey　and　cheap。

Again　she　opened　the　drawer　of　the　old…fashioned　wardrobe　and　lifted　up　the　few　pieces　of　underclothing　Mr。　Sleuth　now　possessed。

But　there　was　nothing　there　…　nothing；　that　is；　hidden　away。　　When　one　came　to　think　of　it　there　seemed　something　strange　in　the　notion　of　leaving　all　one's　money　where　anyone　could　take　it；　and　in　locking　up　such　a　valueless　thing　as　a　cheap　sham　leather　bag；　to　say　nothing　of　a　bottle　of　ink。

Mrs。　Bunting　once　more　opened　out　each　of　the　tiny　drawers　below　the　　looking…glass；　each　delicately　fashioned　of　fine　old　mahogany。　　Mr。　Sleuth　kept　his　money　in　the　centre　drawer。

The　glass　had　only　cost　seven…and…sixpence；　and；　after　the　auction　a　dealer　had　come　and　offered　her　first　fifteen　shillings；　and　then　a　guinea　for　it。　　Not　long　ago；　in　Baker　Street；　she　had　seen　a　looking…glass　which　was　the　very　spit　of　this　one；　labeled　〃Chippendale；　Antique。　？15s0d。〃

There　lay　Mr。　Sleuth's　money　…　the　sovereigns；　as　the　landlady　well　knew；　would　each　and　all　gradually　pass　into　her's　and　Bunting's　possession；　honestly　earned　by　them　no　doubt　but　unattainable　…　in　　act　unearnable　…　excepting　in　connection　with　the　present　owner　of　those　dully　shining　gold　sovereigns。

At　last　she　went　downstairs　to　await　Mr。　Sleuth's　return。

When　she　heard　the　key　turn　in　the　door；　she　came　out　into　the　passage。

〃I'm　sorry　to　say　I've　had　an　accident；　sir；〃　she　said　a　little　breathlessly。　　〃Taking　advantage　of　your　being　out　I　went　up　to　dust　the　drawing…room；　and　while　I　was　trying　to　get　behind　the　chiffonnier　it　tilted。　　I'm　afraid；　sir；　that　a　bottle　of　ink　that　was　inside　may　have　got　broken；　for　just　a　few　drops　oozed　out；　sir。　　But　I　hope　there's　no　harm　done。　　I　wiped　it　up　as　well　as　I　could；　seeing　that　the　doors　of　the　chiffonnier　are　locked。〃

Mr。　Sleuth　stared　at　her　with　a　wild；　almost　a　terrified　glance。　But　Mrs。　Bunting　stood　her　ground。　　She　felt　far　less　afraid　now　than　she　had　felt　before　he　came　in。　　Then　she　had　been　so　frightened　that　she　had　nearly　gone　out　of　the　house；　on　to　the　pavement；　for　company。

〃Of　course　I　had　no　idea；　sir；　that　you　kept　any　ink　in　there。〃

She　spoke　as　if　she　were　on　the　defensive；　and　the　lodger's　brow　cleared。

〃I　was　aware　you　used　ink；　sir；〃　Mrs。　Bunting　went　on；　〃for　I　have　seen　you　marking　that　book　of　yours　…　I　mean　the　book　you　read　together　with　the　Bible。　　Would　you　like　me　to　go　out　and　get　you　another　bottle；　sir？〃

〃No；〃　said　Mr。　Sleuth。　　〃No；　I　thank　you。　　I　will　at　once　proceed　upstairs　and　see　what　damage　has　been　done。　　When　I　require　you　I　shall　ring。〃

He　shuffled　past　her；　and　five　minutes　later　the　drawing…room　bell　did　ring。

At　once；　from　the　door；　Mrs。　Bunting　saw　that　the　chiffonnier　was　wide　open；　and　that　the　shelves　were　empty　save　for　the　bottle　of　red　ink　which　had　turned　over　and　now　lay　in　a　red　pool　of　its　own　making　on　the　lower　shelf。

〃I'm　afraid　it　will　have　stained　the　wood；　Mrs。　Bunting。　　Perhaps　I　was　ill…advised　to　keep　my　ink　in　there。〃

〃Oh；　no；　sir！　　That　doesn't　matter　at　all。　　Only　a　drop　or　two　fell　out　on　to　the　carpet；　and　they　don't　show；　as　you　see；　sir；　for　it's　a　dark　corner。　　Shall　I　take　the　bottle　away？　　I　may　as　well。〃

Mr。　Sleuth　hesitated。　　〃No；〃　he　said；　after　a　long　pause；　〃I　think　not；　Mrs。　Bunting。　　For　the　very　little　I　require　it　the　ink　remaining　in　the　bottle　will　do　quite　well；　especially　if　I　add　a　little　water；　or　better　still；　a　little　tea；　to　what　already　remains　in　the　bottle。　　I　only　require　it　to　mark　up　passages　which　happen　to　be　of　peculiar　interest　in　my　Concordance　…　a　work；　Mrs。　Bunting；　which　I　should　have　taken　great　pleasure　in　compiling　myself　had　not　this　…　ah　…　this　gentleman　called　Cruden；　been　before。　

******

Not　only　Bunting；　but　Daisy　also；　thought　Ellen　far　pleasanter　in　her　manner　than　usual　that　evening。　　She　listened　to　all　they　had　to　say　about　their　interesting　visit　to　the　Black　Museum；　and　did　not　snub　either　of　them　…　no；　not　even　when　Bunting　told　of　the　dreadful；　haunting；　silly…looking　death…masks　taken　from　the　hanged。

But　a　few　minutes　after　that；　when　her　husband　suddenly　asked　her　a　question；　Mrs。　Bunting　answered　at　random。　　It　was　clear　she　had　not　heard　the　last　few　words　he　had　been　saying。

〃A　penny　for　your　thoughts！〃　he　said　jocularly。　　But　she　shook　her　head。

Daisy　slipped　out　of　the　room；　and；　five　minutes　later；　came　back　dressed　up　in　a　blue…and…white　check　silk　gown。

〃My！〃　said　her　father。　　〃You　do　look　fine；　Daisy。　　I've　never　seen　you　wearing　that　before。〃

〃And　a　rare　figure　of　fun　she　looks　in　it！〃　observed　Mrs。　Bunting　sarcastically。　　And　then；　〃I　suppose　this　dressing　up　means　that　you're　expecting　someone。　　I　should　have　thought　both　of　you　must　have　seen　enough　of　young　Chandler　for　one　day。　　I　wonder　when　that　young　chap　does　his　work　…　that　I　do！　　He　never　seems　too　busy　to　come　and　waste　an　hour　or　two　here。〃

But　that　was　the　only　nasty　thing　Ellen　said　all　that　evening。　　And　even　Daisy　noticed　that　her　stepmother　seemed　dazed　and　unlike　herself。　　She　went　about　her　cooking　and　the　various　little　things　she　had　to　do　even　more　silently　than　was　her　wont。

Yet　under　that　still；　almost　sullen；　manner；　how　fierce　was　the　storm　of　dread；　of　sombre；　anguish；　and；　yes；　of　sick　suspense；　which　shook　her　soul；　and　which　so　far　affected　her　poor；　ailing　body　that　often　she　felt　as　if　she　could　not　force　herself　to　accomplish