the darrow enigma-第26部分

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that　character　is　actually　killed？　　Why；　even　the　day　of　the
cranberry…juice　dagger　is　long　since　passed。　　When　Miss　Davenport
shrieks　in　'Fedora；'　the　shriek　is　literal　…　'real；'　you　would　call
it　…　and　you　find　yourself　instinctively　saying；　'Don't！　　…　don't！'
and　wishing　you　were　out　of　the　house。　　When　Mr。　Booth；　as　'Shylock'
shrieks　at　'Tubal's'　news；　the　cry　is　not　real；　is　not　literal；　but
is　suggestive；　and　you　see　at　once　the　fiendish　glee　of　which　it　is
the　expression。　　The　difference　between　the　two　is　the　difference
between　vocal　cords　and　grey　matter。〃

〃But　surely；〃　I　rejoined；　〃one　doesn't　want　untruth；　one　wants　…　〃
but　he　did　not　let　me　finish。

〃Always　that　cry　of　truth！〃　he　retorted。　　〃Do　you　not　see　how　absurd
it　is；　as　used　by　your　exponents　of　realism？　　With　a　bit　of　charcoal
some　Raphael　draws　a　face　with　five　lines；　and　some　photographer
snaps　a　camera　at　the　same　face。　　Which　would　any　sane　man　choose　as
the　best　work　of　art？　　The　five…line　face；　of　course。　　Why？　　Is　the
work　of　the　camera　unreal？　　Is　it　not　more　accurate　in　drawing；　more
subtle　in　gradation　than　the　less　mechanical　picture？　　To　be　sure。
What；　then；　makes　the　superiority　of　the　few　lines　of　our　Raphael？
That　which　makes　the　superiority　of　all　noble　art　…　its　truth；；　not
on　a　low；　but　on　a　high；　plane：　its　power　of　interpreting。　　See！〃
he　said；　fairly　aglow　with　excitement。　　〃What　does　your　realist　do；
even　assuming　that　he　has　reached　that　never…tobe…attained
perfection　which　is　the　lifelong　Mecca　of　his　desires？　　He　gives
you；　by　his　absolutely　realistic　goes　with　you；　and　interprets　its
grandeur　to　you。　Stand　before　his　canvas　and　enjoy　it　as　you　would
Nature　herself　if　there。　　Surely；　you　say；　nothing　more　could　be
desired；　and　you　clap　your　hands；　and　shout；　'Bravo！'　　But　wait　a
bit；　the　other　side　is　yet　to　be　heard　from。　　What　does　the　true
artist　do　for　you　by　his　picture　of　Yosemite　Valley？　　He　not　only
gives　you　a　free　conveyance　to　it；　but　he　goes　with　you；　and
interprets　its　grandeur　to　you。　　He　translates　into　the　language　of
your　consciousness　beauties　which；　without　him；　you　would　entirely
miss。　　It　is　this　very　capability　of　seeing　more　in　Nature　than　is
ever　perceived　by　the　common　throng　that　constitutes　the　especial
genius　of　the　artist；　and　a　work　that　is　not　aglow　with　its　creator's
personality　…　personality；　mind　you；　not　coarse　realism　…　can　never
rank　as　a　masterpiece。　　But；　come；　this　won't　do。　　Why　did　you　want
to　get　me　astride　my　hobby？〃

I　thought　it　advisable　to　answer　this　question　by　asking　another；
so　I　said：　〃But　how　about　Davenport？　　Will　you　go？〃

〃Yes；〃　he　replied。　　〃Anything　with　a　Cleopatra　to　it　interests　me。
I'll　go　now　and　see　about　the　tickets；〃　and　he　left　me。

I　have　related　Maitland's　aesthetic　views　as　expressed　to　me　upon
this　occasion；　not　because　they　have　any　particular　bearing　upon　the
mystery　I　am　narrating；　but　because　they　cast　a　strong　side…light
upon　the　young　man's　character；　and　also　for　the　reason　that　I
believe　his　personality　to　be　sufficiently　strong　and　unique　to　be
of　general　interest。

We　went　that　same　night　to　see　Sardou's　〃Cleopatra。〃　I　asked　Maitland
how　he　liked　the　piece；　and　the　only　reply　he　vouchsafed　was：　〃I　have
recently　read　Shakespeare's　treatment　of　the　same　theme。〃=20



CHAPTER　II


　　　If　events　spread　themselves　out　fanwise　from　the　past　into　the
　　　future；　then　must　the　occurrences　of　the　present　exhibit
　　　convergence　toward　some　historical　burning…point；　…　some　focal
　　　centre　whereat　the　potential　was　warmed=20into　the　kinetic。

It　was　nearly　a　week　after　the　events　last　narrated　before　I　saw
Maitland　again；　and　then　only　by　chance。　　We　happened　to　meet　in　the
Parker　House；　and；　as　he　had　some　business　pertaining　to　a　case　he
was　on；　to　transact　at　the　Court　House；　I　walked　up　Beacon　Street
with　him。　　　There　is　a　book　or　stationery　store；　on　Somerset　Street；
just　before　you　turn　down　toward　Pemberton　Square。　　As　we　were
passing　this　store；　Maitland　espied　a　large　photographic　reproduction
of　some　picture。

〃Let　us　cross　over　and　see　what　it　is；〃　he　said。　We　did　so。　　It　was
a　photograph　of　L。　Alma…Tadema's　painting　of　Antony　and　Cleopatra。
Maitland　started　a　little　as　he　read　the　title；　and　then　said
lightly：　〃Do　you　suppose；　Doc；　that　woman's　mummy　is　in　existence？
I　should　like　to　find　it。　　I've　an　idea　she　left　some　hieroglyphic
message　for　me　on　her　mummy…case；　and　doesn't　propose　to　let　me
rest　easy　until　I　find　and　translate　it。　　Now；　if　I　believed　in
transmigration　of　souls　…　do　you　see　any　mark　of　Antony　about　me？
Say；　though；　just　imagine　the　spirit　of　Marcus　Antonius　in　a　rubber
apron；　making　an　analysis　of　oleomargarine！　　But　here　we　are；
good…bye；〃　and　he　left　me　without　awaiting　any　reply。　　He　seemed　to
me　to　be　in　decidedly　better　spirits　than　formerly；　and　I　was　at
the　time　at　a　loss　to　account　for　it。　　The　cause　of　his　levity；
however；　was　soon　explained；　for　that　night；　as　Gwen；　my　sister；　and
I　were　sitting　cosily　in　the　study　according　to　our　usual　custom；
Maitland　walked　in；　unannounced。　　He　had　come　now　to　be　a　regular
visitor；　and　I　invented　not　a　few　subterfuges　to　get　him　to　call
even　oftener　than　he　otherwise　would；　for　I　perceived　that　his
coming　gave　pleasure　to　Gwen。　　She　exhibited　less　depression　when
in　his　presence　than　at　any　other　time。　　I　had　learned　that　hers
was　one　of　those　deep　natures　in　which　grief　crystallises　slowly；
but　with　an　unconquerable　persistence。　　Instead　of　her　forgetting
her　bereavement；　or　the　sense　thereof　waxing　weaker　by　time；　she
seemed　to　be　drifting　toward　that　ever…present　consciousness　of
loss　in　which　the　soul　feels　itself　gradually；　but　surely；　sinking
under　an　insupportable　burden　…　a　burden　so　long　borne；　so　well
known；　that　the　mind　no　longer　thinks　of　it。　　The　heart　beats
stolidly　under　its　load；　and　seems　to　forget　the　time　when　it　was
not　so　oppressed。　　No　one　knows　better　than　we　physicians　the　danger
of　this　autocracy　of　grief；　and　I　watched　Gwen　with　a　solicitude　at
times　almost　bordering　on　despair。　　But；　as　I　said　before；　she　always
seemed　to　show　more　interest　in　affairs　when　Maitland　was　present；
and；　on　the　night　in　question；　his　abrupt　and　unexpected　entrance
surprised　her　into　the　betrayal　of　more　pleasure　than　she　would　have
wished　us　to　note；　and；　indeed；　so　quickly　did　she　conceal　her
confusion　that　I　was　the　only　one　who　noticed　it。　　Maitland　was　too
busy　with　the　news　he　brought。

〃Well；　Miss　Darrow；〃　he　began　at　once；　〃at　last　your　detective　has
got　a　clue　…　not　much　of　a　one　…　but　still　a　clue。　　I　can　pick　the
man　for　whom　we　are　looking　from　among　a　million　of　his　fellows　…　if
I　am　ever　fortunate　enough　to　get　the　chance。〃

Somebody　has　already　called　attention　to　the　fact　that　women　are
more　or　less　curious；　and　there　are　well…authenticated　cases　on
record　where　this　inquisitiveness　has　even　extended　to　things　which
did　not　immediately　concern　themselves；　so　I　have　little　doubt　I
shall　be　believed　when　I　say　the　women　folk　were　in　a　fever　of
expectancy；　and　besought　Maitland　with　an　earnestness　quite
unnecessary　…　（it　would　have　required　a　great　deal　to　have　prevented
his　telling　it）　…　to　begin　at　the　beginning；　and　relate　the　whole
thing。　　He　readily　acceded　to　this　request；　and　began　by　telling
them　the　experiences　which　I　have　just　narrated。　　It　was；　he　said；
during　the　last　act　of　Sardou's　〃Cleopatra〃　that　the　idea　had
suddenly　come　to　him　to　change　the　plan　of　search　from　the　analytical
to　the　synthetical。

〃You　see；〃　he　continued；　〃I　had　from　the　first　been　trying　to　find
the　assassin　without　knowing　the　exact　way　in　which　the　crime　was
committed。　　I　now　determined　to　ascertain　how；　under　the　same
circumstances；　I　could　commit　such　a　crime；　and　leave　behind　no
other　evidences　of　the　deed　than　those　which　are　in　our　possession。
I　began　to　read　detective　stories；　with　all　the　avidity　of　a　Western
Union　Telegraph　messenger；　and；　of　course；　read　those　by　Conan　Doyle。
The　assertion　of　'Sherlock　Holmes'　that　there　is　no　novelty　in　crime；
that　crimes；　like　history；　repeat　themselves；　and　that　criminals　read
and　copy　each　other's　methods；　deeply　impressed　me；　and　I　at　once
said　to　myself：　'If　our　assassin　was　not　original；　whom　did　he　copy？'

〃It　was　while　reading　'The　Sign　of　the　Four；'　which　I　had　procured
at　the　Public　Library；　that　I　made　the　first　discovery。　　The　crime
therein　narrated　had　been　committed　in　such　a　singular　manner　that
it　at　once　attracted　my　attention。　　The　victim　had　apparently　been
murdered　without　anyone　having　either　entered　or　left　the　room。　　In
this　respect　it　was　like　the　problem　we　are　trying　to　solve。　　Might
not　this　book；　I　said　to　myself；　have　suggested　to　your　father's
assassin　the　course　he　pursued。　　I　concluded　to　go　to　the　library
and　ask　for　a　list　of　the　names　of　persons　who　had　taken　out　this
book　for　a　few　months　prior　to　your　father's　death。　　I　was　fully
aware　that　the　chance　of　my　learning　anything　in　this　way　was　very
slight；　In　the　first　place；　I　reasoned　that　it　was　not　especially
likely　your　father's　murderer　had　read　'The　Sign　of　the　Four；'
and；　in　the　second　place；　even　if　he　had；　what　assurance　had　I　that
he　had　read　this　particular　copy　of　it？　　Notwithstanding　this；
however；　I　felt　impelled　to　give　my　synthetical　theory　a　fair
experimental　trial。　　I　was　informed　by　the　Library　attendants　that
the　book　had　been　much　read；　and　given　the　list　of　some　twenty
names　of　persons　who　had　borrowed　the　book　during　the　time　I　had
specified。　　With　these　twenty…odd　names　before　me；　I　sat　down　to
think　what　my　next　step　should　be。　　I　went　carefully　over　this　chain
of　reasoning　link　by　link。　　'I　wish　to　find　a　certain　murderer；　and
have　adopted　this　method　in　the　hope　that　it　may　help　me。　　If　I
derive　any　assistance　at　all　from　it；　it　will　be　because　my　man　has
read　this　particular　copy　of　this　work；　therefore；　I　may　as　well
assume　at　the　start　that　among　these　twenty…odd　names　is　that　of
the　man　I　want。　　Is　there　any　possibility　of　this　crime　having　been
committed　by　a　woman？'　was　my　next　question；　and　my　answer　was；　'Yes；
a　possibility；　but　it　is　so　decidedly　improbable　that