five tales- 第3部分

In　going　out　he　caught　the　reflection　of　his　face　in　a　mirror；　it　seemed　too　good　altogether　for　a　man　who　had　committed　murder。　　There　was　a　sort　of　brightness　underneath；　an　amiability　lurking　about　its　shadows；　howhow　could　it　be　the　face　of　a　man　who　had　done　what　he　had　done？　　His　head　felt　lighter　now；　his　feet　lighter；　he　walked　rapidly　again。

Curious　feeling　of　relief　and　oppression　all　at　once！　　Frightfulto　long　for　company；　for　talk；　for　distraction；　andto　be　afraid　of　it！　The　girlthe　girl　and　Keith　were　now　the　only　persons　who　would　not　give　him　that　feeling　of　dread。　　And；　of　those　twoKeith　was　not。。。！　Who　could　consort　with　one　who　was　never　wrong；　a　successful；　righteous　fellow；　a　chap　built　so　that　he　knew　nothing　about　himself；　wanted　to　know　nothing；　a　chap　all　solid　actions？　　To　be　a　quicksand　swallowing　up　one's　own　resolutions　was　bad　enough！　　But　to　be　like　Keithall　willpower；　marching　along；　treading　down　his　own　feelings　and　weaknesses！　　No！　　One　could　not　make　a　comrade　of　a　man　like　Keith；　even　if　he　were　one's　brother？　　The　only　creature　in　all　the　world　was　the　girl。　　She　alone　knew　and　felt　what　he　was　feeling；　would　put　up　with　him　and　love　him　whatever　he　did；　or　was　done　to　him。　　He　stopped　and　took　shelter　in　a　doorway；　to　light　a　cigarette。　He　had　suddenly　a　fearful　wish　to　pass　the　archway　where　he　had　placed　the　body；　a　fearful　wish　that　had　no　sense；　no　end　in　view；　no　anything；　just　an　insensate　craving　to　see　the　dark　place　again。　　He　crossed　Borrow　Street　to　the　little　lane。　　There　was　only　one　person　visible；　a　man　on　the　far　side　with　his　shoulders　hunched　against　the　wind；　a　short；　dark　figure　which　crossed　and　came　towards　him　in　the　flickering　lamplight。　　What　a　face！　　Yellow；　ravaged；　clothed　almost　to　the　eyes　in　a　stubbly　greyish　growth　of　beard；　with　blackish　teeth；　and　haunting　bloodshot　eyes。　　And　what　a　figure　of　ragsone　shoulder　higher　than　the　other；　one　leg　a　little　lame；　and　thin！　　A　surge　of　feeling　came　up　in　Laurence　for　this　creature；　more　unfortunate　than　himself。　　There　were　lower　depths　than　his！

〃Well；　brother；〃　he　said；　〃you　don't　look　too　prosperous！〃

The　smile　which　gleamed　out　on　the　man's　face　seemed　as　unlikely　as　a　smile　on　a　scarecrow。

〃Prosperity　doesn't　come　my　way；〃　he　said　in　a　rusty　voice。　　〃I'm　a　failurealways　been　a　failure。　　And　yet　you　wouldn't　think　it；　would　you？I　was　a　minister　of　religion　once。〃

Laurence　held　out　a　shilling。　　But　the　man　shook　his　head。

〃Keep　your　money；〃　he　said。　　〃I've　got　more　than　you　to…day；　I　daresay。　　But　thank　you　for　taking　a　little　interest。　　That's　worth　more　than　money　to　a　man　that's　down。〃

〃You're　right。〃

〃Yes；〃　the　rusty　voice　went　on；　〃I'd　as　soon　die　as　go　on　living　as　I　do。　　And　now　I've　lost　my　self…respect。　　Often　wondered　how　long　a　starving　man　could　go　without　losing　his　self…respect。　　Not　so　very　long。　　You　take　my　word　for　that。〃　　And　without　the　slightest　change　in　the　monotony　of　that　creaking　voice　he　added：

〃Did　you　read　of　the　murder？　　Just　here。　　I've　been　looking　at　the　place。〃

The　words：　'So　have　I！'　leaped　up　to　Laurence's　lips；　he　choked　them　down　with　a　sort　of　terror。

〃I　wish　you　better　luck；〃　he　said。　　〃Goodnight！〃　and　hurried　away。　　A　sort　of　ghastly　laughter　was　forcing　its　way　up　in　his　throat。　　Was　everyone　talking　of　the　murder　he　had　committed？　　Even　the　very　scarecrows？




III

There　are　some　natures　so　constituted　that；　due　to　be　hung　at　ten　o'clock；　they　will　play　chess　at　eight。　　Such　men　invariably　rise。　They　make　especially　good　bishops；　editors；　judges；　impresarios；　Prime　ministers；　money…lenders；　and　generals；　in　fact；　fill　with　exceptional　credit　any　position　of　power　over　their　fellow…men。　　They　have　spiritual　cold　storage；　in　which　are　preserved　their　nervous　systems。　　In　such　men　there　is　little　or　none　of　that　fluid　sense　and　continuity　of　feeling　known　under　those　vague　terms；　speculation；　poetry；　philosophy。　　Men　of　facts　and　of　decision　switching　imagination　on　and　off　at　will；　subordinating　sentiment　to　reason。。。　one　does　not　think　of　them　when　watching　wind　ripple　over　cornfields；　or　swallows　flying。

Keith　Darrant　had　need　for　being　of　that　breed　during　his　dinner　at　the　Tellassons。　　It　was　just　eleven　when　he　issued　from　the　big　house　in　Portland　Place　and　refrained　from　taking　a　cab。　　He　wanted　to　walk　that　he　might　better　think。　　What　crude　and　wanton　irony　there　was　in　his　situation！　　To　have　been　made　father…confessor　to　a　murderer；　he…　…well　on　towards　a　judgeship！　　With　his　contempt　for　the　kind　of　weakness　which　landed　men　in　such　abysses；　he　felt　it　all　so　sordid；　so　〃impossible；〃　that　he　could　hardly　bring　his　mind　to　bear　on　it　at　all。　　And　yet　he　must；　because　of　two　powerful　instinctsself…　preservation　and　blood…loyalty。

The　wind　had　still　the　sapping　softness　of　the　afternoon；　but　rain　had　held　off　so　far。　　It　was　warm；　and　he　unbuttoned　his　fur　overcoat。　　The　nature　of　his　thoughts　deepened　the　dark　austerity　of　his　face；　whose　thin；　well…cut　lips　were　always　pressing　together；　as　if；　by　meeting；　to　dispose　of　each　thought　as　it　came　up。　　He　moved　along　the　crowded　pavements　glumly。　　That　air　of　festive　conspiracy　which　drops　with　the　darkness　on　to　lighted　streets；　galled　him。　　He　turned　off　on　a　darker　route。

This　ghastly　business！　　Convinced　of　its　reality；　he　yet　could　not　see　it。　　The　thing　existed　in　his　mind；　not　as　a　picture；　but　as　a　piece　of　irrefutable　evidence。　　Larry　had　not　meant　to　do　it；　of　course。　　But　it　was　murder；　all　the　same。　　Men　like　Larryweak；　impulsive；　sentimental；　introspective　creaturesdid　they　ever　mean　what　they　did？　　This　man；　this　Walenn；　was；　by　all　accounts；　better　dead　than　alive；　no　need　to　waste　a　thought　on　him！　　But；　crimethe　uglinessJustice　unsatisfied！　　Crime　concealedand　his　own　share　in　the　concealment！　　And　yetbrother　to　brother！　　Surely　no　one　could　demand　action　from　him！　　It　was　only　a　question　of　what　he　was　going　to　advise　Larry　to　do。　　To　keep　silent；　and　disappear？　　Had　that　a　chance　of　success？　　Perhaps　if　the　answers　to　his　questions　had　been　correct。　　But　this　girl！　　Suppose　the　dead　man's　relationship　to　her　were　ferreted　out；　could　she　be　relied　on　not　to　endanger　Larry？　These　women　were　all　the　same；　unstable　as　water；　emotional；　shiftless　pests　of　society。　　Then；　too；　a　crime　untracked；　dogging　all　his　brother's　after　life；　a　secret　following　him　wherever　he　might　vanish　to；　hanging　over　him；　watching　for　some　drunken　moment；　to　slip　out　of　his　lips。　　It　was　bad　to　think　of。　　A　clean　breast　of　it？　　But　his　heart　twitched　within　him。　　〃Brother　of　Mr。　Keith　Darrant；　the　wellknown　King's　Counsel〃visiting　a　woman　of　the　town；　strangling　with　his　bare　hands　the　woman's　husband！　　No　intention　to　murder；　buta　dead　man！　　A　dead　man　carried　out　of　the　house；　laid　under　a　dark　archway！　　Provocation！　　Recommended　to　mercypenal　servitude　for　life！　　Was　that　the　advice　he　was　going　to　give　Larry　to…morrow　morning？

And　he　had　a　sudden　vision　of　shaven　men　with　clay…coloured　features；　run；　as　it　were；　to　seed；　as　he　had　seen　them　once　in　Pentonville；　when　he　had　gone　there　to　visit　a　prisoner。　　Larry！　　Whom；　as　a　baby　creature；　he　had　watched　straddling；　whom；　as　a　little　fellow；　he　had　fagged；　whom　he　had　seen　through　scrapes　at　college；　to　whom　he　had　lent　money　time　and　again；　and　time　and　again　admonished　in　his　courses。　　Larry！　　Five　years　younger　than　himself；　and　committed　to　his　charge　by　their　mother　when　she　died。　　To　become　for　life　one　of　those　men　with　faces　like　diseased　plants；　with　no　hair　but　a　bushy　stubble；　with　arrows　marked　on　their　yellow　clothes！　　Larry！　　One　of　those　men　herded　like　sheep；　at　the　beck　and　call　of　common　men！　　A　gentleman；　his　own　brother；　to　live　that　slave's　life；　to　be　ordered　here　and　there；　year　after　year；　day　in；　day　out。　　Something　snapped　within　him。　　He　could　not　give　that　advice。　　Impossible！　　But　if　not；　he　must　make　sure　of　his　ground；　must　verify；　must　know。　　This　Glove　Lanethis　arch　way？　　It　would　not　be　far　from　where　he　was　that　very　moment。　　He　looked　for　someone　of　whom　to　make　enquiry。　　A　policeman　was　standing　at　the　corner；　his　stolid　face　illumined　by　a　lamp；　capable　and　watchfulan　excellent　officer；　no　doubt；　but；　turning　his　head　away；　Keith　passed　him　without　a　word。　　Strange　to　feel　that　cold；　uneasy　feeling　in　presence　of　the　law！　　A　grim　little　driving　home　of　what　it　all　meant！　　Then；　suddenly；　he　saw　that　the　turning　to　his　left　was　Borrow　Street　itself。　　He　walked　up　one　side；　crossed　over；　and　returned。　　He　passed　Number　Forty…two；　a　small　house　with　business　names　printed　on　the　lifeless　windows　of　the　first　and　second　floors；　with　dark　curtained　windows　on　the　ground　floor；　or　was　there　just　a　slink　of　light　in　one　corner？　　Which　way　had　Larry　turned？　　Which　way　under　that　grisly　burden？　　Fifty　paces　of　this　squalid　street…narrow；　and　dark；　and　empty；　thank　heaven！　　Glove　Lane！　　Here　it　was！　　A　tiny　runlet　of　a　street。　　And　here！　　He　had　run　right　on　to　the　arch；　a　brick　bridge　connecting　two　portions　of　a　warehouse；　and　dark　indeed。

〃That's　right；　gov'nor！　　That's　the　place！〃　　He　needed　all　his　self…　control　to　turn　leisurely　to　the　speaker。　　〃'Ere's　where　they　found　the　bodyvery　spot　leanin'　up　'ere。　　They　ain't　got　'im　yet。　Lytestme　lord！〃

It　was　a　ragged　boy　holding　out　a　tattered　yellowish　journal。　　His　lynx　eyes　peered　up　from　under　lanky　wisps　of　hair；　and　his　voice　had　the　proprietary　note　of　one　making　〃a　corner〃　in　his　news。　　Keith　took　the　paper　and　gave　him　twopence。　　He　even　found　a　sort　of　comfort　in　the　young　ghoul's　hanging　about　there；　it　meant　that　others　besides　himself　had　come　morbidly　to　look。　　By　the　dim　lamplight　he　read：　〃Glove　Lane　garrotting　mystery。　　Nothing　has　yet　been　discovered　of　the　murdered　man's　identity；　from　the　cut　of　his　clothes　he　is　supposed　to　be　a　foreigner。〃　　The　boy　had　vanished；　and　Keith　saw　the　figure　of　a　policeman　coming　slowly　down　this　gutter　of　a　street。　　A　second's　hesitation；　and　he　stood　firm。　　Nothing　obviously　could　have　brought　him　here　save　this　〃mystery；〃　and　he　stayed　quietly　staring　at　the　arch。　　The　policeman　moved　up　abreast。　Keith　saw　that　he　was　the　one　whom　he　had　passed　just　now。　　He　noted　the　cold　offensive　question　die