classic mystery and detective stories-第42章

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love　her。　　She　is　alive　with　you。　　As　you　extinguish　your　candle

and　turn　to　sleep；　though　your　eyes　see　her　not；　is　she　not　there

still　smiling？　　As　you　lie　in　the　night　awake；　and　thinking　of　your

duties；　and　the　morrow's　inevitable　toil　oppressing　the　busy；

weary；　wakeful　brain　as　with　a　remorse；　the　crackling　fire　flashes

up　for　a　moment　in　the　grate；　and　she　is　there；　your　little

Beauteous　Maiden；　smiling　with　her　sweet　eyes！　　When　moon　is　down；

when　fire　is　out；　when　curtains　are　drawn；　when　lids　are　closed；　is

she　not　there；　the　little　Beautiful　One；　though　invisible；　present

and　smiling　still？　　Friend；　the　Unseen　Ones　are　round　about　us。

Does　it　not　seem　as　if　the　time　were　drawing　near　when　it　shall　be

given　to　men　to　behold　them？〃



The　print　of　which　my　friend　spoke；　and　which；　indeed；　hangs　in　my

room；　though　he　has　never　been　there；　is　that　charming　little

winter　piece　of　Sir　Joshua；　representing　the　little　Lady　Caroline

Montague；　afterwards　Duchess　of　Buccleuch。　　She　is　represented　as

standing　in　the　midst　of　a　winter　landscape；　wrapped　in　muff　and

cloak；　and　she　looks　out　of　her　picture　with　a　smile　so　exquisite

that　a　Herod　could　not　see　her　without　being　charmed。



〃I　beg　your　pardon；　Mr。　PINTO；〃　I　said　to　the　person　with　whom　I

was　conversing。　　（I　wonder；　by　the　way；　that　I　was　not　surprised　at

his　knowing　how　fond　I　am　of　this　print。）　　〃You　spoke　of　the　Knight

of　Plympton。　　Sir　Joshua　died　1792：　and　you　say　he　was　your　dear

friend？〃



As　I　spoke　I　chanced　to　look　at　Mr。　Pinto；　and　then　it　suddenly

struck　me：　Gracious　powers！　　Perhaps　you　ARE　a　hundred　years　old；

now　I　think　of　it。　　You　look　more　than　a　hundred。　　Yes；　you　may　be

a　thousand　years　old　for　what　I　know。　　Your　teeth　are　false。　　One

eye　is　evidently　false。　　Can　I　say　that　the　other　is　not？　　If　a

man's　age　may　be　calculated　by　the　rings　round　his　eyes；　this　man

may　be　as　old　as　Methuselah。　　He　has　no　beard。　　He　wears　a　large

curly　glossy　brown　wig；　and　his　eyebrows　are　painted　a　deep　olive…

green。　　It　was　odd　to　hear　this　man；　this　walking　mummy；　talking

sentiment；　in　these　queer　old　chambers　in　Shepherd's　Inn。



Pinto　passed　a　yellow　bandanna　handkerchief　over　his　awful　white

teeth；　and　kept　his　glass　eye　steadily　fixed　on　me。　　〃Sir　Joshua's

friend？〃　said　he　（you　perceive；　eluding　my　direct　question）。　　〃Is

not　everyone　that　knows　his　pictures　Reynolds's　friend？　　Suppose　I

tell　you　that　I　have　been　in　his　painting　room　scores　of　times；　and

that　his　sister　The　has　made　me　tea；　and　his　sister　Toffy　has　made

coffee　for　me？　　You　will　only　say　I　am　an　old　ombog。〃　　（Mr。　Pinto；

I　remarked；　spoke　all　languages　with　an　accent　equally　foreign。）

〃Suppose　I　tell　you　that　I　knew　Mr。　Sam　Johnson；　and　did　not　like

him？　that　I　was　at　that　very　ball　at　Madame　Cornelis'；　which　you

have　mentioned　in　one　of　your　littlewhat　do　you　call　them？bah！

my　memory　begins　to　fail　mein　one　of　your　little　Whirligig

Papers？　　Suppose　I　tell　you　that　Sir　Joshua　has　been　here；　in　this

very　room？〃



〃Have　you；　then；　had　these　apartments　formorethanseventy

years？〃　I　asked。



〃They　look　as　if　they　had　not　been　swept　for　that　timedon't　they？

Hey？　　I　did　not　say　that　I　had　them　for　seventy　years；　but　that　Sir

Joshua　has　visited　me　here。〃



〃When？〃　I　asked；　eying　the　man　sternly；　for　I　began　to　think　he　was

an　impostor。



He　answered　me　with　a　glance　still　more　stern：　〃Sir　Joshua　Reynolds

was　here　this　very　morning；　with　Angelica　Kaufmann　and　Mr。　Oliver

Goldschmidt。　　He　is　still　very　much　attached　to　Angelica；　who　still

does　not　care　for　him。　　Because　he　is　dead　（and　I　was　in　the　fourth

mourning　coach　at　his　funeral）　is　that　any　reason　why　he　should　not

come　back　to　earth　again？　　My　good　sir；　you　are　laughing　at　me。　　He

has　sat　many　a　time　on　that　very　chair　which　you　are　now　occupying。

There　are　several　spirits　in　the　room　now；　whom　you　cannot　see。

Excuse　me。〃　　Here　he　turned　round　as　if　he　was　addressing　somebody；

and　began　rapidly　speaking　a　language　unknown　to　me。　　〃It　is

Arabic；〃　he　said；　〃a　bad　patois；　I　own。　　I　learned　it　in　Barbary；

when　I　was　a　prisoner　among　the　Moors。　　In　anno　1609；　bin　ick　aldus

ghekledt　gheghaen。　　Ha！　you　doubt　me：　look　at　me　well。　　At　least　I

am　like〃



Perhaps　some　of　my　readers　remember　a　paper　of　which　the　figure　of

a　man　carrying　a　barrel　formed　the　initial　letter；　and　which　I

copied　from　an　old　spoon　now　in　my　possession。　　As　I　looked　at　Mr。

Pinto　I　do　declare　he　looked　so　like　the　figure　on　that　old　piece

of　plate　that　I　started　and　felt　very　uneasy。　　〃Ha！〃　said　he；

laughing　through　his　false　teeth　（I　declare　they　were　falseI

could　see　utterly　toothless　gums　working　up　and　down　behind　the

pink　coral）；　〃you　see　I　wore　a　beard　den；　I　am　shafed　now；　perhaps

you　tink　I　am　A　SPOON。　　Ha；　ha！〃　　And　as　he　laughed　he　gave　a　cough

which　I　thought　would　have　coughed　his　teeth　out；　his　glass　eye

out；　his　wig　off；　his　very　head　off；　but　he　stopped　this　convulsion

by　stumping　across　the　room　and　seizing　a　little　bottle　of　bright

pink　medicine；　which；　being　opened；　spread　a　singular　acrid

aromatic　odor　through　the　apartment；　and　I　thought　I　sawbut　of

this　I　cannot　take　an　affirmationa　light　green　and　violet　flame

flickering　round　the　neck　of　the　vial　as　he　opened　it。　　By　the　way；

from　the　peculiar　stumping　noise　which　he　made　in　crossing　the

bare…boarded　apartment；　I　knew　at　once　that　my　strange　entertainer

had　a　wooden　leg。　　Over　the　dust　which　lay　quite　thick　on　the

boards；　you　could　see　the　mark　of　one　foot　very　neat　and　pretty；

and　then　a　round　O；　which　was　naturally　the　impression　made　by　the

wooden　stump。　　I　own　I　had　a　queer　thrill　as　I　saw　that　mark；　and

felt　a　secret　comfort　that　it　was　not　CLOVEN。



In　this　desolate　apartment　in　which　Mr。　Pinto　had　invited　me　to　see

him；　there　were　three　chairs；　one　bottomless；　a　little　table　on

which　you　might　put　a　breakfast　tray；　and　not　a　single　other

article　of　furniture。　　In　the　next　room；　the　door　of　which　was

open；　I　could　see　a　magnificent　gilt　dressing　case；　with　some

splendid　diamond　and　ruby　shirt　studs　lying　by　it；　and　a　chest　of

drawers；　and　a　cupboard　apparently　full　of　clothes。



Remembering　him　in　Baden…Baden　in　great　magnificence　I　wondered　at

his　present　denuded　state。　　〃You　have　a　house　elsewhere；　Mr。

Pinto？〃　I　said。



〃Many；〃　says　he。　　〃I　have　apartments　in　many　cities。　　I　lock　dem

up；　and　do　not　carry　mosh　logish。〃



I　then　remembered　that　his　apartment　at　Baden；　where　I　first　met

him；　was　bare；　and　had　no　bed　in　it。



〃There　is；　then；　a　sleeping　room　beyond？〃



〃This　is　the　sleeping　room。〃　　（He　pronounces　it　DIS。　　Can　this；　by

the　way；　give　any　clew　to　the　nationality　of　this　singular　man？）



〃If　you　sleep　on　these　two　old　chairs　you　have　a　rickety　couch；　if

on　the　floor；　a　dusty　one。〃



〃Suppose　I　sleep　up　dere？〃　said　this　strange　man；　and　he　actually

pointed　up　to　the　ceiling。　　I　thought　him　mad　or　what　he　himself

called　〃an　ombog。〃　　〃I　know。　　You　do　not　believe　me；　for　why　should

I　deceive　you？　　I　came　but　to　propose　a　matter　of　business　to　you。

I　told　you　I　could　give　you　the　clew　to　the　mystery　of　the　Two

Children　in　Black；　whom　you　met　at　Baden；　and　you　came　to　see　me。

If　I　told　you　you　would　not　believe　me。　　What　for　try　and　convinz

you？　　Ha　hey？〃　　And　he　shook　his　hand　once；　twice；　thrice；　at　me；

and　glared　at　me　out　of　his　eye　in　a　peculiar　way。



Of　what　happened　now　I　protest　I　cannot　give　an　accurate　account。

It　seemed　to　me　that　there　shot　a　flame　from　his　eye　into　my　brain；

while　behind　his　GLASS　eye　there　was　a　green　illumination　as　if　a

candle　had　been　lit　in　it。　　It　seemed　to　me　that　from　his　long

fingers　two　quivering　flames　issued；　sputtering；　as　it　were；　which

penetrated　me；　and　forced　me　back　into　one　of　the　chairsthe

broken　oneout　of　which　I　had　much　difficulty　in　scrambling；　when

the　strange　glamour　was　ended。　　It　seemed　to　me　that；　when　I　was　so

fixed；　so　transfixed　in　the　broken　chair；　the　man　floated　up　to　the

ceiling；　crossed　his　legs；　folded　his　arms　as　if　he　was　lying　on　a

sofa；　and　grinned　down　at　me。　　When　I　came　to　myself　he　was　down

from　the　ceiling；　and；　taking　me　out　of　the　broken　cane…bottomed

chair；　kindly　enough〃Bah！〃　said　he；　〃it　is　the　smell　of　my

medicine。　　It　often　gives　the　vertigo。　　I　thought　you　would　have

had　a　little　fit。　　Come　into　the　open　air。〃　　And　we　went　down　the

steps；　and　into　Shepherd's　Inn；　where　the　setting　sun　was　just

shining　on　the　statue　of　Shepherd；　the　laundresses　were　traipsing

about；　the　porters　were　leaning　against　the　railings；　and　the

clerks　were　playing　at　marbles；　to　my　inexpressible　consolation。



〃You　said　you　were　going　to　dine　at　the　'Gray's…Inn　Coffee…House；'〃

he　said。　　I　was。　　I　often　dine　there。　　There　is　excellent　wine　at

the　〃Gray's…Inn　Coffee…House〃；　but　I　declare　I　NEVER　SAID　so。　　I

was　not　astonished　at　his　remark；　no　more　astonished　than　if　I　was

in　a　dream。　　Perhaps　I　WAS　in　a　dream。　　Is　life　a　dream？　　Are

dreams　facts？　　Is　sleeping　being　really　awake？　　I　don't　know。　　I

tell　you　I　am　puzzled。　　I　have　read　〃The　Woman　in　White；〃　　〃The

Strange　Story〃not　to　mention　that　story　〃Stranger　than　Fiction〃

in　the　Cornhill　Magazinethat　story　for　which　THREE　credible

witnesses　are　ready　to　vouch。　　I　have　had　messages　from　the　dead；

and　not　only　from　the　dead；　but　from　people　who　never　existed　at

all。　　I　own　I　am　in　a　state　of　much　bewilderment：　but；　if　you

please；　will　proceed　with　my　simple；　my　artless　story。



Well；　then。　　We　passed　from　Shepherd's　Inn　into　Holborn；　and　looked

for　a　while　at　Woodgate's　bric…a…brac　shop；　which　I　never　can　pass

without　delaying　at　the　windowsindeed；　if　I　were　going　to　be

hung；　I　would　beg　the　cart　to　stop；　and　let　me　have　one　look　more

at　that　delightful　omnium　gatherum。　　And　passing　Woodgate's；　we

come　to　Gale's　little　shop；　〃No。　47；〃　which　is　also　a　favorite

haunt　of　mine。



Mr。　Gale　happened　to　be　at　his　door；　and　as　we　exchanged

salutations；　〃Mr。　Pinto；〃　I　said；　〃will　you　like　to　see　a　real

curiosity　in　this　curiosity　shop？　　Step　into　Mr。　Gale's　little　back

room。〃



In　that　little　back　parlor　there　are　Chinese　gongs；　there　are　old

Saxe　and　Sevres　plates；　there　is　Furstenberg；　Carl　Theodor；

Worcester；　Amstel；　Nankin　and　other　jimcrockery。　　And　in　the　corner

what　do　you　think　there　is？　　There　is　an　actual　GUILLOTINE。　　If　you

doubt　me；　go　and　seeGale；　High　Holborn；　No。　47。　　It　is　a　slim

instrument；　much　slighter　than　those　which　they　make　now；some

nine　feet　high；　narrow；　a　pretty　piece　of　upholstery　enough。　　There

is　the　hook　over　which　the　rope　used　to　play　which　unloosened　the

dreadful　ax　above；　and　look！　dropped　into　the　orifice　where　the

head　used　to　gothere　is　THE　AX　itself；　all　rusty；　with　A　GREAT

NOTCH　IN　THE　BLADE。



As　Pinto　looked　at　itMr。　Gale　was　not　in　the　room；　I　recollect；

happening　to　have　been　just　called　out　by　a　customer　who　offered

hi