第 15 节
作者:丁格      更新:2021-02-19 18:54      字数:9322
  ht; and his front wheel began an apparently incurable squeaking。 He felt as a man from Mars would feel if he were suddenly transferred to this planet; about three times as heavy as he was wont to feel。 The two little black figures had vanished over the forehead of the hill。 〃The tracks'll be all right;〃 said Mr。 Hoopdriver。
  That was a comforting reflection。 It not only justified a slow progress up the hill; but at the crest a sprawl on the turf beside the road; to contemplate the Weald from the south。 In a matter of two days he had crossed that spacious valley; with its frozen surge of green hills; its little villages and townships here and there; its copses and cornfields; its ponds and streams like jewelery of diamonds and silver glittering in the sun。 The North Downs were hidden; far away beyond the Wealden Heights。 Down below was the little village of Cocking; and half…way up the hill; a mile perhaps to the right; hung a flock of sheep grazing together。 Overhead an anxious peewit circled against the blue; and every now and then emitted its feeble cry。 Up here the heat was tempered by a pleasant breeze。 Mr。 Hoopdriver was possessed by unreasonable contentment; he lit himself a cigarette and lounged more comfortably。 Surely the Sussex ale is made of the waters of Lethe; of poppies and pleasant dreams。 Drowsiness coiled insidiously about him。
  He awoke with a guilty start; to find himself sprawling prone on the turf with his cap over one eye。 He sat up; rubbed his eyes; and realised that he had slept。 His head was still a trifle heavy。 And the chase? He jumped to his feet and stooped to pick。 up his overturned machine。 He whipped out his watch and saw that it was past two o'clock。 〃Lord love us; fancy that!But the tracks'll be all right;〃 said Mr。 Hoopdriver; wheeling his machine back to the chalky road。 〃I must scorch till I overtake them。〃
  He mounted and rode as rapidly as the heat and a lingering lassitude permitted。 Now and then he had to dismount to examine the surface where the road forked。 He enjoyed that rather。 〃Trackin';〃 he said aloud; and decided in the privacy of his own mind that he had a wonderful instinct for 'spoor。' So he came past Goodwood station and Lavant; and approached Chichester towards four o'clock。 And then came a terrible thing。 In places the road became hard; in places were the crowded indentations of a recent flock of sheep; and at last in the throat of the town cobbles and the stony streets branching east; west; north; and south; at a stone cross under the shadow of the cathedral the tracks vanished。 〃O Cricky!〃 said Mr。 Hoopdriver; dismounting in dismay and standing agape。 〃Dropped anything?〃 said an inhabitant at the kerb。 〃Yes;〃 said Mr。 Hoopdriver; 〃I've lost the spoor;〃 and walked upon his way; leaving the inhabitant marvelling what part of a bicycle a spoor might be。 Mr。 Hoopdriver; abandoning tracking; began asking people if they had seen a Young Lady in Grey on a bicycle。 Six casual people hadn't; and he began to feel the inquiry was conspicuous; and desisted。 But what was to be done?
  Hoopdriver was hot; tired; and hungry; and full of the first gnawings of a monstrous remorse。 He decided to get himself some tea and meat; and in the Royal George he meditated over the business in a melancholy frame enough。 They had passed out of his worldvanished; and all his wonderful dreams of some vague; crucial interference collapsed like a castle of cards。 What a fool he had been not to stick to them like a leech! He might have thought! But there!what WAS the good of that sort of thing now? He thought of her tears; of her helplessness; of the bearing of the other man in brown; and his wrath and disappointment surged higher。 〃What CAN I do?〃 said Mr。 Hoopdriver aloud; bringing his fist down beside the teapot。
  What would Sherlock Holmes have done? Perhaps; after all; there might be such things as clues in the world; albeit the age of miracles was past。 But to look for a clue in this intricate network of cobbled streets; to examine every muddy interstice! There was a chance by looking about and inquiry at the various inns。 Upon that he began。 But of course they might have ridden straight through and scarcely a soul have marked them。 And then came a positivelybrilliant idea。 〃'Ow many ways are there out of Chichester?〃 said Mr。 Hoopdriver。 It was really equal to Sherlock Holmesthat。〃 If they've made tracks; I shall find those tracks。 If notthey're in the town。〃 He was then in East Street; and he started at once to make the circuit of the place; discovering incidentally that Chichester is a walled city。 In passing; he made inquiries at the Black Swan; the Crown; and the Red Lion Hotel。 At six o'clock in the evening; he was walking downcast; intent; as one who had dropped money; along the road towards Bognor; kicking up the dust with his shoes and fretting with disappointed pugnacity。 A thwarted; crestfallen Hoopdriver it was; as you may well imagine。 And then suddenly there jumped upon his attentiona broad line ribbed like a shilling; and close beside it one chequered; that ever and again split into two。 〃Found!〃 said Mr。 Hoopdriver and swung round on his heel at once; and back to the Royal George; helter skelter; for the bicycle they were minding for him。 The ostler thought he was confoundedly imperious; considering his machine。
  AT BOGNOR
  XXI
  That seductive gentleman; Bechamel; had been working up to a crisis。 He had started upon this elopement in a vein of fine romance; immensely proud of his wickedness; and really as much in love as an artificial oversoul can be; with Jessie。 But either she was the profoundest of coquettes or she had not the slightest element of Passion (with a large P) in her composition。 It warred with all his ideas of himself and the feminine mind to think that under their flattering circumstances she really could be so vitally deficient。 He found her persistent coolness; her more or less evident contempt for himself; exasperating in the highest degree。 He put it to himself that she was enough to provoke a saint; and tried to think that was piquant and enjoyable; but the blisters on his vanity asserted themselves。 The fact is; he was; under this standing irritation; getting down to the natural man in himself for once; and the natural man in himself; in spite of Oxford and the junior Reviewers' Club; was a Palaeolithic creature of simple tastes and violent methods。 〃I'll be level with you yet;〃 ran like a plough through the soil of his thoughts。
  Then there was this infernal detective。 Bechamel had told his wife he was going to Davos to see Carter。 To that he had fancied she was reconciled; but how she would take this exploit was entirely problematical。 She was a woman of peculiar moral views; and she measured marital infidelity largely by its proximity to herself。 Out of her sight; and more particularly out of the sight of the other women of her set; vice of the recognised description was; perhaps; permissible to those contemptible weaklings; men; but this was Evil on the High Roads。 She was bound to make a fuss; and these fusses invariably took the final form of a tightness of money for Bechamel。 Albeit; and he felt it was heroic of him to resolve so; it was worth doing if it was to be done。 His imagination worked on a kind of matronly Valkyrie; and the noise of pursuit and vengeance was in the air。 The idyll still had the front of the stage。 That accursed detective; it seemed; had been thrown off the scent; and that; at any rate; gave a night's respite。 But things must be brought to an issue forthwith。
  By eight o'clock in the evening; in a little dining…room in the Vicuna Hotel; Bognor; the crisis had come; and Jessie; flushed and angry in the face and with her heart sinking; faced him again for her last st;ruggle with him。 He had tricked her this time; effectually; and luck had been on his side。 She was booked as Mrs。 Beaumont。 Save for her refusal to enter their room; and her eccentricity of eating with unwashed hands; she had so far kept up the appearances of things before the waiter。 But the dinner was grim enough。 Now in turn she appealed to his better nature and made extravagant statements of her plans to fool him。
  He was white and vicious by this time; and his anger quivered through his pose of brilliant wickedness。
  〃I will go to the station;〃 she said。 〃I will go back〃
  〃The last train for anywhere leaves at 7。42。〃
  〃I will appeal to the police〃
  〃You don't know them。〃
  〃I will tell these hotel people。〃
  〃They will turn you out of doors。 You're in such a thoroughly false position now。 They don't understand unconventionality; down here。〃
  She stamped her foot。 〃If I wander about the streets all night〃 she said。
  〃You who have never been out alone after dusk? Do you know what the streets of a charming little holiday resort are like〃
  〃I don't care;〃 she said。 〃I can go to the clergyman here。〃
  〃He's a charming man。 Unmarried。 And men are really more alike than you think。 And anyhow〃
  〃Well?〃
  〃How CAN you explain the last two nights to anyone now? The mischief is done; Jessie。〃
  〃You CUR;〃 she said; and suddenly put her hand to her breast。 He thought she meant to faint; but she stood; with the colour gone from her face。
  〃No