the man who knew too much-第22部分

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〃And　I　think　you're　a　pack　of　snobs；〃　said　Juliet。　〃Because　Mr。　Crane　is　a　genius　who's　made　his　own　way；　you　try　to　suggest　he's　a　murderer　without　daring　to　say　so。　Because　he　wore　a　toy　sword　and　happened　to　know　how　to　use　it；　you　want　us　to　believe　he　used　it　like　a　bloodthirsty　maniac　for　no　reason　in　the　world。　And　because　he　could　have　hit　my　brother　and　didn't；　you　deduce　that　he　did。　That's　the　sort　of　way　you　argue。　And　as　for　his　having　disappeared；　you're　wrong　in　that　as　you　are　in　everything　else；　for　here　he　comes。〃

And；　indeed；　the　green　figure　of　the　fictitious　Robin　Hood　slowly　detached　itself　from　the　gray　background　of　the　trees；　and　came　toward　them　as　she　spoke。

He　approached　the　group　slowly；　but　with　composure；　but　he　was　decidedly　pale；　and　the　eyes　of　Brain　and　Fisher　had　already　taken　in　one　detail　of　the　green…clad　figure　more　clearly　than　all　the　rest。　The　horn　still　swung　from　his　baldrick；　but　the　sword　was　gone。

Rather　to　the　surprise　of　the　company；　Brain　did　not　follow　up　the　question　thus　suggested；　but；　while　retaining　an　air　of　leading　the　inquiry；　had　also　an　appearance　of　changing　the　subject。

〃Now　we're　all　assembled；〃　he　observed；　quietly；　〃there　is　a　question　I　want　to　ask　to　begin　with。　Did　anybody　here　actually　see　Lord　Bulmer　this　morning？〃

Leonard　Crane　turned　his　pale　face　round　the　circle　of　faces　till　he　came　to　Juliet's；　then　he　compressed　his　lips　a　little　and　said：

〃Yes；　I　saw　him。〃

〃Was　he　alive　and　well？〃　asked　Brain；　quickly。　〃How　was　he　dressed？〃

〃He　appeared　exceedingly　well；〃　replied　Crane；　with　a　curious　intonation。　〃He　was　dressed　as　he　was　yesterday；　in　that　purple　costume　copied　from　the　portrait　of　his　ancestor　in　the　sixteenth　century。　He　had　his　skates　in　his　hand。〃

〃And　his　sword　at　his　side；　I　suppose；〃　added　the　questioner。　〃Where　is　your　own　sword；　Mr。　Crane？〃

〃I　threw　it　away。〃

In　the　singular　silence　that　ensued；　the　train　of　thought　in　many　minds　became　involuntarily　a　series　of　colored　pictures。

They　had　grown　used　to　their　fanciful　garments　looking　more　gay　and　gorgeous　against　the　dark　gray　and　streaky　silver　of　the　forest；　so　that　the　moving　figures　glowed　like　stained…glass　saints　walking。　The　effect　had　been　more　fitting　because　so　many　of　them　had　idly　parodied　pontifical　or　monastic　dress。　But　the　most　arresting　attitude　that　remained　in　their　memories　had　been　anything　but　merely　monastic；　that　of　the　moment　when　the　figure　in　bright　green　and　the　other　in　vivid　violet　had　for　a　moment　made　a　silver　cross　of　their　crossing　swords。　Even　when　it　was　a　jest　it　had　been　something　of　a　drama；　and　it　was　a　strange　and　sinister　thought　that　in　the　gray　daybreak　the　same　figures　in　the　same　posture　might　have　been　repeated　as　a　tragedy。

〃Did　you　quarrel　with　him？〃　asked　Brain；　suddenly。

〃Yes；〃　replied　the　immovable　man　in　green。　〃Or　he　quarreled　with　me。〃

〃Why　did　he　quarrel　with　you？〃　asked　the　investigator；　and　Leonard　Crane　made　no　reply。

Horne　Fisher；　curiously　enough；　had　only　given　half　his　attention　to　this　crucial　cross…examination。　His　heavy…lidded　eyes　had　languidly　followed　the　figure　of　Prince　Borodino；　who　at　this　stage　had　strolled　away　toward　the　fringe　of　the　wood；　and；　after　a　pause；　as　of　meditation；　had　disappeared　into　the　darkness　of　the　trees。

He　was　recalled　from　his　irrelevance　by　the　voice　of　Juliet　Bray；　which　rang　out　with　an　altogether　new　note　of　decision：

〃If　that　is　the　difficulty；　it　had　best　be　cleared　up。　I　am　engaged　to　Mr。　Crane；　and　when　we　told　my　brother　he　did　not　approve　of　it；　that　is　all。〃

Neither　Brain　nor　Fisher　exhibited　any　surprise；　but　the　former　added；　quietly：

〃Except；　I　suppose；　that　he　and　your　brother　went　off　into　the　wood　to　discuss　it；　where　Mr。　Crane　mislaid　his　sword；　not　to　mention　his　companion。〃

〃And　may　I　ask；〃　inquired　Crane；　with　a　certain　flicker　of　mockery　passing　over　his　pallid　features；　〃what　I　am　supposed　to　have　done　with　either　of　them？　Let　us　adopt　the　cheerful　thesis　that　I　am　a　murderer；　it　has　yet　to　be　shown　that　I　am　a　magician。　If　I　ran　your　unfortunate　friend　through　the　body；　what　did　I　do　with　the　body？　Did　I　have　it　carried　away　by　seven　flying　dragons；　or　was　it　merely　a　trifling　matter　of　turning　it　into　a　milk…white　hind？〃

〃It　is　no　occasion　for　sneering；〃　said　the　Anglo…Indian　judge；　with　abrupt　authority。　〃It　doesn't　make　it　look　better　for　you　that　you　can　joke　about　the　loss。〃

Fisher's　dreamy；　and　even　dreary；　eye　was　still　on　the　edge　of　the　wood　behind；　and　he　became　conscious　of　masses　of　dark　red；　like　a　stormy　sunset　cloud；　glowing　through　the　gray　network　of　the　thin　trees；　and　the　prince　in　his　cardinal's　robes　reemerged　on　to　the　pathway。　Brain　had　had　half　a　notion　that　the　prince　might　have　gone　to　look　for　the　lost　rapier。　But　when　he　reappeared　he　was　carrying　in　his　hand；　not　a　sword；　but　an　ax。

The　incongruity　between　the　masquerade　and　the　mystery　had　created　a　curious　psychological　atmosphere。　At　first　they　had　all　felt　horribly　ashamed　at　being　caught　in　the　foolish　disguises　of　a　festival；　by　an　event　that　had　only　too　much　the　character　of　a　funeral。　Many　of　them　would　have　already　gone　back　and　dressed　in　clothes　that　were　more　funereal　or　at　least　more　formal。　But　somehow　at　the　moment　this　seemed　like　a　second　masquerade；　more　artificial　and　frivolous　than　the　first。　And　as　they　reconciled　themselves　to　their　ridiculous　trappings；　a　curious　sensation　had　come　over　some　of　them；　notably　over　the　more　sensitive；　like　Crane　and　Fisher　and　Juliet；　but　in　some　degree　over　everybody　except　the　practical　Mr。　Brain。　It　was　almost　as　if　they　were　the　ghosts　of　their　own　ancestors　haunting　that　dark　wood　and　dismal　lake；　and　playing　some　old　part　that　they　only　half　remembered。　The　movements　of　those　colored　figures　seemed　to　mean　something　that　had　been　settled　long　before；　like　a　silent　heraldry。　Acts；　attitudes；　external　objects；　were　accepted　as　an　allegory　even　without　the　key；　and　they　knew　when　a　crisis　had　come；　when　they　did　not　know　what　it　was。　And　somehow　they　knew　subconsciously　that　the　whole　tale　had　taken　a　new　and　terrible　turn；　when　they　saw　the　prince　stand　in　the　gap　of　the　gaunt　trees；　in　his　robes　of　angry　crimson　and　with　his　lowering　face　of　bronze；　bearing　in　his　hand　a　new　shape　of　death。　They　could　not　have　named　a　reason；　but　the　two　swords　seemed　indeed　to　have　become　toy　swords　and　the　whole　tale　of　them　broken　and　tossed　away　like　a　toy。　Borodino　looked　like　the　Old　World　headsman；　clad　in　terrible　red；　and　carrying　the　ax　for　the　execution　of　the　criminal。　And　the　criminal　was　not　Crane。

Mr。　Brain　of　the　Indian　police　was　glaring　　at　the　new　object；　and　it　was　a　moment　or　two　before　he　spoke；　harshly　and　almost　hoarsely。

〃What　are　you　doing　with　that？〃　he　asked。　〃Seems　to　be　a　woodman's　chopper。〃

〃A　natural　association　of　ideas；〃　observed　Horne　Fisher。　〃If　you　meet　a　cat　in　a　wood　you　think　it's　a　wildcat；　though　it　may　have　just　strolled　from　the　drawing…room　sofa。　As　a　matter　of　fact；　I　happen　to　know　that　is　not　the　woodman's　chopper。　It's　the　kitchen　chopper；　or　meat　ax；　or　something　like　that；　that　somebody　has　thrown　away　in　the　wood。　I　saw　it　in　the　kitchen　myself　when　I　was　getting　the　potato　sacks　with　which　I　reconstructed　a　mediaeval　hermit。〃

〃All　the　same；　it　is　not　without　interest；〃　remarked　the　prince；　holding　out　the　instrument　to　Fisher；　who　took　it　and　examined　it　carefully。　〃A　butcher's　cleaver　that　has　done　butcher's　work。〃

〃It　was　certainly　the　instrument　of　the　crime；〃　assented　Fisher；　in　a　low　voice。

Brain　was　staring　at　the　dull　blue　gleam　of　the　ax　head　with　fierce　and　fascinated　eyes。　〃I　don't　understand　you；〃　he　said。　〃There　is　nothere　are　no　marks　on　it。〃

〃It　has　shed　no　blood；〃　answered　Fisher；　〃but　for　all　that　it　has　committed　a　crime。　This　is　as　near　as　the　criminal　came　to　the　crime　when　he　committed　it。〃

〃What　do　you　mean？〃

〃He　was　not　there　when　he　did　it；〃　explained　Fisher。　〃It's　a　poor　sort　of　murderer　who　can't　murder　people　when　he　isn't　there。〃

〃You　seem　to　be　talking　merely　for　the　sake　of　mystification；〃　said　Brain。　〃If　you　have　any　practical　advice　to　give　you　might　as　well　make　it　intelligible。〃

〃The　only　practical　advice　I　can　suggest；〃　said　Fisher；　thoughtfully；　〃is　a　little　research　into　local　topography　and　nomenclature。　They　say　there　used　to　be　a　Mr。　Prior；　who　had　a　farm　in　this　neighborhood。　I　think　some　details　about　the　domestic　life　of　the　late　Mr。　Prior　would　throw　a　light　on　this　terrible　business。〃

〃And　you　have　nothing　more　immediate　than　your　topography　to　offer；〃　said　Brain；　with　a　sneer；　〃to　help　me　avenge　my　friend？〃

〃Well；〃　said　Fisher；　〃I　should　find　out　the　truth　about　the　Hole　in　the　Wall。〃


That　night；　at　the　close　of　a　stormy　twilight　and　under　a　strong　west　wind　that　followed　the　breaking　of　the　frost；　Leonard　Crane　was　wending　his　way　in　a　wild　rotatory　walk　round　and　round　the　high；　continuous　wall　that　inclosed　the　little　wood。　He　was　driven　by　a　desperate　idea　of　solving　for　himself　the　riddle　that　had　clouded　his　reputation　and　already　even　threatened　his　liberty。　The　police　authorities；　now　in　charge　of　the　inquiry；　had　not　arrested　him；　but　he　knew　well　enough　that　if　he　tried　to　move　far　afield　he　would　be　instantly　arrested。　Horne　Fisher's　fragmentary　hints；　though　he　had　refused　to　expand　them　as　yet；　had　stirred　the　artistic　temperament　of　the　architect　to　a　sort　of　wild　analysis；　and　he　was　resolved　to　read　the　hieroglyph　upside　down　and　every　way　until　it　made　sense。　If　it　was　something　connected　with　a　hole　in　the　wall　he　would　find　the　hole　in　the　wall；　but；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　he　was　unable　to　find　the　faintest　crack　in　the　wall。　His　professional　knowledge　told　him　that　the　masonry　was　all　of　one　workmanship　and　one　date；　and；　except　for　the　regular　entrance；　which　threw　no　light　on　the　mystery；　he　found　nothing　suggesting　any　sort　of　hiding　place　or　means　of　escape。　Walking　a　narrow　path　between　the　winding　wall　and　the　wild　eastward　bend　and　sweep　of　the　gray　and　feathery　trees；　seeing　shifting　gleams　of　a　lost　sunset　winking　almost　like　lightning　as　the　clouds　of　tempest　scudded　across　the　sky　and　mingling　with　the　first　faint　blue　li