stories by english authors in london(英国作家在伦敦的故事)-第7章
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least； only my hair did。
〃You're out late； ain't you？〃 he went on； 〃laying out your garden； hey？〃
I could not tell him that I was laying out his poodle！ My voice shook
as； with a guilty confusion that was veiled by the dusk； I said it was a fine
eveningwhich it was not。
〃Cloudy； sir；〃 said the colonel； 〃cloudy； rain before morning； I think。
By the way； have you seen anything of Bingo in here？〃
This was the turning…point。 What I /ought/ to have done was to say
mournfully； 〃Yes； I'm sorry to say I've had a most unfortunate accident
with him。 Here he is； the fact is； I'm afraid I've /shot/ him！〃
But I couldn't。 I could have told him at my own time； in a prepared
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form of wordsbut not then。 I felt I must use all my wits to gain time； and
fence with the questions。
〃Why；〃 I said； with a leaden airiness； 〃he hasn't given you the slip； has
he？〃
〃Never did such a thing in his life！〃 said the colonel； warmly； 〃he
rushed off after a rat or a frog or something a few minutes ago； and as I
stopped to light another cheroot I lost sight of him。 I thought I saw him
slip in under your gate； but I've been calling him from the front there and
he won't come out。〃
No； and he never /would/ come out any more。 But the colonel must not
be told that just yet。 I temporised again： 〃If；〃 I said； unsteadily 〃if he had
slipped in under the gate I should have seen him。 Perhaps he took it into
his head to run home？〃
〃Oh； I shall find him on the door…step； I expect； the knowing old
scamp！ Why； what d' ye think was the last thing he did； now？〃
I could have given him the very latest intelligence； but I dared not。
However； it was altogether too ghastly to kneel there and laugh at
anecdotes of Bingo told across Bingo's dead body； I could not stand that。
〃Listen；〃 I said； suddenly； 〃wasn't that his bark？ There； again； it seems to
come from the front of your house； don't you think？〃
〃Well；〃 said the colonel； 〃I'll go and fasten him up before he's off again。
How your teeth are chattering！ You've caught a chill； man； go indoors at
once； and； if you feel equal to it； look in half an hour later； about grog…time；
and I'll tell you all about it。 Compliments to your mother。 Don't forget
about grog…time！〃
I had got rid of him at last； and I wiped my forehead； gasping with
relief。 I would go round in half an hour； and then I should be prepared to
make my melancholy announcement。 For； even then； I never thought of
any other course； until suddenly it flashed upon me with terrible clearness
that my miserable shuffling by the hedge had made it impossible to tell the
truth！ I had not told a direct lie； to be sure； but then I had given the colonel
the impression that I had denied having seen the dog。 Many people can
appease their consciences by reflecting that； whatever may be the effect
their words produce； they did contrive to steer clear of a downright lie。 I
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never quite knew where the distinction lay morally； but there /is/ that
feelingI have it myself。
Unfortunately； prevarication has this drawback： that； if ever the truth
comes to light； the prevaricator is in just the same case as if he had lied to
the most shameless extent； and for a man to point out that the words he
used contained no absolute falsehood will seldom restore confidence。
I might； of course； still tell the colonel of my misfortune； and leave
him to infer that it had happened after our interview； but the poodle was
fast becoming cold and stiff； and they would most probably suspect the
real time of the occurrence。
And then Lilian would hear that I had told a string of falsehoods to her
uncle over the dead body of their idolised Bingoan act； no doubt； of
abominable desecration； of unspeakable profanity； in her eyes。
If it would have been difficult before to prevail on her to accept a
blood…stained hand； it would be impossible after that。 No； I had burned my
ships； I was cut off for ever from the straightforward course； that one
moment of indecision had decided my conduct in spite of me； I must go on
with it now； and keep up the deception at all hazards。
It was bitter。 I had always tried to preserve as many of the moral
principles which had been instilled into me as can be conveniently
retained in this grasping world； and it had been my pride that； roughly
speaking； I had never been guilty of an unmistakable falsehood。
But henceforth； if I meant to win Lilian； that boast must be
relinquished for ever。 I should have to lie now with all my might； without
limit or scruple； to dissemble incessantly； and 〃wear a mask；〃 as the poet
Bunn beautifully expressed it long ago； 〃over my hollow heart。〃 I felt all
this keenly； I did not think it was right； but what was I to do？
After thinking all this out very carefully； I decided that my only course
was to bury the poor animal where he fell； and say nothing about it。 With
some vague idea of precaution； I first took off the silver collar he wore；
and then hastily interred him with a garden… trowel； and succeeded in
removing all traces of the disaster。
I fancy I felt a certain relief in the knowledge that there would now be
no necessity to tell my pitiful story and risk the loss of my neighbours'
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esteem。
By…and…by； I thought； I would plant a rose…tree over his remains； and
some day； as Lilian and I； in the noontide of our domestic bliss； stood
before it admiring its creamy luxuriance； I might （perhaps） find courage to
confess that the tree owed some of that luxuriance to the long…lost Bingo。
There was a touch of poetry in this idea that lightened my gloom for
the moment。
I need scarcely say that I did not go round to Shuturgarden that
evening。 I was not hardened enough for that yet； my manner might betray
me； and so I very prudently stayed at home。
But that night my sleep was broken by frightful dreams。 I was
perpetually trying to bury a great； gaunt poodle； which would persist in
rising up through the damp mould as fast as I covered him up。 。 。 。 Lilian
and I were engaged； and we were in church together on Sunday； and the
poodle； resisting all attempts to eject him； forbade our bans with
sepulchral barks。 。 。 。 It was our wedding…day； and at the critical moment
the poodle leaped between us and swallowed the ring。 。 。 。 Or we were at
the wedding…breakfast； and Bingo； a grisly black skeleton with flaming
eyes； sat on the cake and would not allow Lilian to cut it。 Even the rose…
tree fancy was reproduced in a distorted formthe tree grew； and every
blossom contained a miniature Bingo； which barked； and as I woke I was
desperately trying to persuade the colonel that they were ordinary dog…
roses。
I went up to the office next day with my gloomy secret gnawing my
bosom； and； whatever I did； the spectre of the murdered poodle rose
before me。 For two days after that I dared not go near the Curries； until at
last one evening after dinner I forced myself to call； feeling that it was
really not safe to keep away any longer。
My conscience smote me as I went in。 I put on an unconscious； easy
manner； which was such a dismal failure that it was lucky for me that they
were too much engrossed to notice it。
I never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune
as the group I found in the drawing…room； making a dejected pretence of
reading or working。 We talked at firstand hollow talk it wason
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indifferent subjects； till I could bear it no longer； and plunged boldly into
danger。
〃I don't see the dog；〃 I began； 〃I suppose youyou found him all right
the other evening； colonel？〃 I wondered； as I spoke； whether they would
not notice the break in my voice； but they did not。
〃Why； the fact is；〃 said the colonel； heavily； gnawing his gray
moustache； 〃we've not heard anything of him since； he'she's run off！〃
〃Gone； Mr。 Weatherhead； gone without a word！〃 said Mrs。 Currie；
plaintively； as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address。
〃I wouldn't have believed it of him；〃 said the colonel； 〃it has
completely knocked me over。 Haven't been so cut up for yearsthe
ungrateful rascal！〃
〃O uncle！〃 pleaded Lilian； 〃don't talk like that； perhaps Bingo couldn't
help itperhaps some one has s…s…shot him！〃
〃Shot！〃 cried the colonel； angrily。 〃By heaven！ if I thought there was a
villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog； I'd Why
/should/ they shoot him； Lilian？ Tell me that！ II hope you won't let me
hear you talk like that again。 /You/ don't think he's shot； eh； Weatherhead？〃
I saidHeaven forgive me！that I thought it highly improbable。
〃He's not dead！〃 cried Mrs。 Currie。 〃If he were dead I should know it
somehowI'm sure I should！ But I'm certain he's alive。 Only last night I
had such a beautiful dream about him。 I thought he came back to us； Mr。
Weatherhead； driving up in a hansom…cab； and he was just the same as
everonly he wore blue spectacles； and the shaved part of him was painted
a bright red。 And I woke up with the joyso； you know； it's sure to come
true！〃
It will be easily understood what torture conversations like these were
to me； and how I hated myself as I sympathised and spoke encouraging
words concerning the dog's recovery； when I knew all the time he was
lying hid under my garden mould。 But I took it as a part of
