the lodger-第23部分

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　square　of　black　iron　and　bright　steel。　　It　was　a　large　gas…stove；　the　kind　for　which　one　pays　four　shillings　a　quarter　rent　to　the　gas　company；　and　here；　in　the　kitchen；　there　was　no　foolish　shilling…in…the…slot　arrangement。　Mrs。　Bunting　was　too　shrewd　a　woman　to　have　anything　to　do　with　that　kind　of　business。　　There　was　a　proper　gas…meter；　and　she　paid　for　what　she　consumed　after　she　had　consumed　it。

Putting　her　candle　down　on　the　well…scrubbed　wooden　table；　she　turned　up　the　gas…jet；　and　blew　out　the　candle。

Then；　lighting　one　of　the　gas…rings；　she　put　a　frying…pan　on　the　stove；　and　once　more　her　mind　reverted；　as　if　in　spite　of　herself；　to　Mr。　Sleuth。　　Never　had　there　been　a　more　confiding　or　trusting　gentleman　than　the　lodger；　and　yet　in　some　ways　he　was　so　secret；　so　…　so　peculiar。

She　thought　of　the　bag　…　that　bag　which　had　rumbled　about　so　queerly　in　the　chiffonnier。　　Something　seemed　to　tell　her　that　tonight　the　lodger　had　taken　that　bag　out　with　him。

And　then　she　thrust　away　the　thought　of　the　bag　almost　violently　from　her　mind；　and　went　back　to　the　more　agreeable　thought　of　Mr。　Sleuth's　income；　and　of　how　little　trouble　he　gave。　　Of　course；　the　lodger　was　eccentric；　otherwise　he　wouldn't　be　their　lodger　at　all　…　he　would　be　living　in　quite　a　different　sort　of　way　with　some　of　his　relations；　or　with　a　friend　in　his　own　class。

While　these　thoughts　galloped　disconnectedly　through　her　mind；　Mrs。　Bunting　went　on　with　her　cooking；　preparing　the　cheese；　cutting　it　up　into　little　shreds；　carefully　measuring　out　the　butter；　doing　everything；　as　was　always　her　way；　with　a　certain　delicate　and　cleanly　precision。

And　then；　while　in　the　middle　of　toasting　the　bread　on　which　was　to　be　poured　the　melted　cheese；　she　suddenly　heard　sounds　which　startled　her；　made　her　feel　uncomfortable。

Shuffling；　hesitating　steps　were　creaking　down　the　house。

She　looked　up　and　listened。

Surely　the　lodger　was　not　going　out　again　into　the　cold　and　foggy　night　…　going　out；　as　he　had　done　the　other　evening；　for　a　second　time？　　But　no；　the　sounds　she　heard；　the　sounds　of　now　familiar　footsteps；　did　not　continue　down　the　passage　leading　to　the　front　door。

Instead　…　　Why；　what　was　this　she　heard　now？　　She　began　to　listen　so　intently　that　the　bread　she　was　holding　at　the　end　of　the　toasting…fork　grew　quite　black。　　With　a　start　she　became　aware　that　this　was　so；　and　she　frowned；　vexed　with　herself。　　That　came　of　not　attending　to　one's　work。

Mr。　Sleuth　was　evidently　about　to　do　what　he　had　never　yet　done。　He　was　coming　down　into　the　kitchen。

Nearer　and　nearer　came　the　thudding　sounds；　treading　heavily　on　the　kitchen　stairs；　and　Mrs。　Bunting's　heart　began　to　beat　as　if　in　response。　　She　put　out　the　flame　of　the　gas…ring；　unheedful　of　the　fact　that　the　cheese　would　stiffen　and　spoil　in　the　cold　air。

Then　she　turned　and　faced　the　door。

There　came　a　fumbling　at　the　handle；　and　a　moment　later　the　door　opened；　and　revealed；　as　she　had　at　once　known　and　feared　it　would　do；　the　lodger。

Mr。　Sleuth　looked　even　odder　than　usual。　　He　was　clad　in　a　plaid　dressing…gown；　which　she　had　never　seen　him　wear　before；　though　she　knew　that　he　had　purchased　it　not　long　after　his　arrival。　　In　his　hand　was　a　lighted　candle。

When　he　saw　the　kitchen　all　lighted　up；　and　the　woman　standing　in　it；　the　lodger　looked　inexplicably　taken　aback；　almost　aghast。

〃Yes；　sir？　　What　can　I　do　for　you；　sir？　　I　hope　you　didn't　ring；　sir？〃

Mrs。　Bunting　held　her　ground　in　front　of　the　stove。　　Mr。　Sleuth　had　no　business　to　come　like　this　into　her　kitchen；　and　she　intended　to　let　him　know　that　such　was　her　view。

〃No；　I　…　I　didn't　ring；〃　he　stammered　awkwardly。　　〃The　truth　is；　I　didn't　know　you　were　here；　Mrs。　Bunting。　　Please　excuse　my　costume。　My　gas…stove　has　gone　wrong；　or；　rather；　that　shilling…in…the…slot　arrangement　has　done　so。　　So　I　came　down　to　see　if　you　had　a　gas…stove。　　I　am　going　to　ask　you　to　allow　me　to　use　it　to…night　for　an　important　experiment　I　wish　to　make。〃

Mrs。　Bunting's　heart　was　beating　quickly　…　quickly。　　She　felt　horribly　troubled；　unnaturally　so。　　Why　couldn't　Mr。　Sleuth's　experiment　wait　till　the　morning？　　She　stared　at　him　dubiously；　but　there　was　that　in　his　face　that　made　her　at　once　afraid　and　pitiful。　It　was　a　wild；　eager；　imploring　look。

〃Oh；　certainly；　sir；　but　you　will　find　it　very　cold　down　here。〃

〃It　seems　most　pleasantly　warm；〃　he　observed；　his　voice　full　of　relief；　〃warm　and　cosy；　after　my　cold　room　upstairs。〃

Warm　and　cosy？　　Mrs。　Bunting　stared　at　him　in　amazement。　　Nay；　even　that　cheerless　room　at　the　top　of　the　house　must　be　far　warmer　and　more　cosy　than　this　cold　underground　kitchen　could　possibly　be。

〃I'll　make　you　a　fire；　sir。　　We　never　use　the　grate；　but　it's　in　perfect　order；　for　the　first　thing　I　did　after　I　came　into　the　house　was　to　have　the　chimney　swept。　　It　was　terribly　dirty。　　It　might　have　set　the　house　on　fire。〃　　Mrs。　Bunting's　housewifely　instincts　were　roused。　　〃For　the　matter　of　that；　you　ought　to　have　a　fire　in　your　bedroom　this　cold　night。〃

〃By　no　means　…　I　would　prefer　not。　　I　certainly　do　not　want　a　fire　there。　　I　dislike　an　open　fire；　Mrs。　Bunting。　　I　thought　I　had　told　you　as　much。〃

Mr。　Sleuth　frowned。　　He　stood　there；　a　strange…looking　figure；　his　candle　still　alight；　just　inside　the　kitchen　door。

〃I　shan't　be　very　long；　sir。　　Just　about　a　quarter　of　an　hour。　　You　could　come　down　then。　　I'll　have　everything　quite　tidy　for　you。　　Is　there　anything　I　can　do　to　help　you？〃

〃I　do　not　require　the　use　of　your　kitchen　yet　…　thank　you　all　the　same；　Mrs。　Bunting。　　I　shall　come　down　later　…　altogether　later　…　after　you　and　your　husband　have　gone　to　bed。　　But　I　should　be　much　obliged　if　you　would　see　that　the　gas　people　come　to…morrow　and　put　my　stove　in　order。　　It　might　be　done　while　I　am　out。　　That　the　shilling…in…the…slot　machine　should　go　wrong　is　very　unpleasant。　It　has　upset　me　greatly。〃

〃Perhaps　Bunting　could　put　it　right　for　you；　sir。　　For　the　matter　of　that；　I　could　ask　him　to　go　up　now。

〃No；　no；　I　don't　want　anything　of　that　sort　done　to…night。　　Besides；　he　couldn't　put　it　right。　　I　am　something　of　an　expert；　Mrs。　Bunting；　and　I　have　done　all　I　could。　　The　cause　of　the　trouble　is　quite　simple。　　The　machine　is　choked　up　with　shillings；　a　very　foolish　plan；　so　I　always　felt　it　to　be。〃

Mr。　Sleuth　spoke　pettishly；　with　far　more　heat　than　he　was　wont　to　speak；　but　Mrs。　Bunting　sympathised　with　him　in　this　matter。　　She　had　always　suspected　that　those　slot　machines　were　as　dishonest　as　if　they　were　human。　　It　was　dreadful；　the　way　they　swallowed　up　the　shillings！　　She　had　had　one　once；　so　she　knew。

And　as　if　he　were　divining　her　thoughts；　Mr。　Sleuth　walked　forward　and　stared　at　the　stove。　　〃Then　you　haven't　got　a　slot　machine？〃　he　said　wonderingly。　　〃I'm　very　glad　of　that；　for　I　expect　my　experiment　will　take　some　time。　　But；　of　course；　I　shall　pay　you　something　for　the　use　of　the　stove；　Mrs。　Bunting。〃

〃Oh；　no；　sir；　I　wouldn't　think　of　charging　you　anything　for　that。　We　don't　use　our　stove　very　much；　you　know；　sir。　　I'm　never　in　the　kitchen　a　minute　longer　than　I　can　help　this　cold　weather。〃

Mrs。　Bunting　was　beginning　to　feel　better。　　When　she　was　actually　in　Mr。　Sleuth's　presence　her　morbid　fears　would　be　lulled；　perhaps　because　his　manner　almost　invariably　was　gentle　and　very　quiet。　But　still　there　came　over　her　an　eerie　feeling；　as；　with　him　preceding　her；　they　made　a　slow　progress　to　the　ground　floor。

Once　there；　the　lodger　courteously　bade　his　landlady　good…night；　and　proceeded　upstairs　to　his　own　apartments。

Mrs。　Bunting　returned　to　the　kitchen。　　Again　she　lighted　the　stove；　but　she　felt　unnerved；　afraid　of　she　knew　not　what。　　As　she　was　cooking　the　cheese；　she　tried　to　concentrate　her　mind　on　what　she　was　doing；　and　on　the　whole　she　succeeded。　　But　another　part　of　her　mind　seemed　to　be　working　independently；　asking　her　insistent　questions。

The　place　seemed　to　her　alive　with　alien　presences；　and　once　she　caught　herself　listening　…　which　was　absurd；　for；　of　course；　she　could　not　hope　to　hear　what　Mr。　Sleuth　was　doing　two；　if　not　three；　flights　upstairs。　　She　wondered　in　what　the　lodger's　experiments　consisted。　　It　was　odd　that　she　had　never　been　able　to　discover　what　it　was　he　really　did　with　that　big　gas…stove。　　All　she　knew　was　that　he　used　a　very　high　degree　of　heat。


CHAPTER　XV

The　Buntings　went　to　bed　early　that　night。　　But　Mrs。　Bunting　made　up　her　mind　to　keep　awake。　　She　was　set　upon　knowing　at　what　hour　of　the　night　the　lodger　would　come　down　into　her　kitchen　to　carry　through　his　experiment；　and；　above　all；　she　was　anxious　to　know　how　long　he　would　stay　there。

But　she　had　had　a　long　and　a　very　anxious　day；　and　presently　she　fell　asleep。

The　church　clock　hard　by　struck　two；　and；　suddenly　Mrs。　Bunting　awoke。　　She　felt　put　out　sharply　annoyed　with　herself。　　How　could　she　have　dropped　off　like　that？　　Mr。　Sleuth　must　have　been　down　and　up　again　hours　ago！

Then；　gradually；　she　became　aware　that　there　was　a　faint　acrid　odour　in　the　room。　　Elusive；　intangible；　it　yet　seemed　to　encompass　her　and　the　snoring　man　by　her　side；　almost　as　a　vapour　might　have　done。

Mrs。　Bunting　sat　up　in　bed　and　sniffed；　and　then；　in　spite　of　the　cold；　she　quietly　crept　out　of　her　nice；　warm　bedclothes；　and　crawled　along　to　the　bottom　of　the　bed。　　When　there；　Mr。　Sleuth's　landlady　did　a　very　curious　thing；　she　leaned　over　the　brass　rail　and　put　her　face　close　to　the　hinge　of　the　door　giving　into　the　hall。　　Yes；　it　was　from　here　that　this　strange；　horrible　odor　was　coming；　the　smell　must　be　very　strong　in　the　passage。

As；　shivering；　she　crept　back　under　the　bedclothes；　she　longed　to　give　her　sleeping　husband　a　good　shake；　and　in　fancy　she　heard　herself　saying；　〃Bunting；　get　up！　　There's　something　strange　and　dreadful　going　on　downstairs　which　we　ought　to　know　about。〃

But　as　she　lay　there；　by　her　husband's　side；　listening　with　painful　intentness　for　the　slightest　sound；　she　knew　very　well　that　she　would　do　nothing　of　the　sort。

What　if　the　lodger　did　make　a　certain　amount　of　mess　　…　a　certain　amount　of　smell　…　in　her　nice　clean　kitchen？　　Was　he　not　…　was　he　not　an　almost　perfect　lodger？　　If　they　did　anything　to　upset　him；　where　could　they　ever　hope　t