beasts and superbeasts- 第8部分

but　embracing　a　small　and　fairly　deep　bay　where　the　

lobster　yield　was　good　in　most　seasons。　　There　was　a　

bleak　little　house　on　the　property；　and　for　those　who　

liked　lobsters　and　solitude；　and　were　able　to　accept　an　

Irish　cook's　ideas　as　to　what　might　be　perpetrated　in　the　

name　of　mayonnaise；　Innisgluther　was　a　tolerable　exile　

during　the　summer　months。　　Lulu　seldom　went　there　

herself；　but　she　lent　the　house　lavishly　to　friends　and　

relations。　　She　put　it　now　at　Vasco's　disposal。



〃It　will　be　the　very　place　to　practise　and　

experiment　with　the　salvage　apparatus；〃　she　said；　〃the　

bay　is　quite　deep　in　places；　and　you　will　be　able　to　test　

everything　thoroughly　before　starting　on　the　treasure　

hunt。〃



In　less　than　three　weeks　Vasco　turned　up　in　town　to　

report　progress。



〃The　apparatus　works　beautifully；〃　he　informed　his　

aunt；　〃the　deeper　one　got　the　clearer　everything　grew。　　

We　found　something　in　the　way　of　a　sunken　wreck　to　

operate　on；　too！〃



〃A　wreck　in　Innisgluther　Bay！〃　exclaimed　Lulu。



〃A　submerged　motor…boat；　the　SUB…ROSA；〃　said　Vasco。



〃No！　really？〃　said　Lulu；　〃poor　Billy　Yuttley's　boat。　　

I　remember　it　went　down　somewhere　off　that　coast　some　

three　years　ago。　　His　body　was　washed　ashore　at　the　

Point。　　People　said　at　the　time　that　the　boat　was　

capsized　intentionally　…　a　case　of　suicide；　you　know。　　

People　always　say　that　sort　of　thing　when　anything　tragic　

happens。〃



〃In　this　case　they　were　right；〃　said　Vasco。



〃What　do　you　mean？〃　asked　the　Duchess　hurriedly。　　

〃What　makes　you　think　so？〃



〃I　know；〃　said　Vasco　simply。



〃Know？　　How　can　you　know？　　How　can　anyone　know？　　The　

thing　happened　three　years　ago。〃



〃In　a　locker　of　the　SUB…ROSA　I　found　a　water…tight　

strong…box。　　It　contained　papers。〃　　Vasco　paused　with　

dramatic　effect　and　searched　for　a　moment　in　the　inner　

breast…pocket　of　his　coat。　　He　drew　out　a　folded　slip　of　

paper。　　The　Duchess　snatched　at　it　in　almost　indecent　

haste　and　moved　appreciably　nearer　the　fireplace。



〃Was　this　in　the　SUB…ROSA'S　strong…box？〃　she　asked。



〃Oh　no；〃　said　Vasco　carelessly；　〃that　is　a　list　of　

the　well…known　people　who　would　be　involved　in　a　very　

disagreeable　scandal　if　the　SUB…ROSA'S　papers　were　made　

public。　　I've　put　you　at　the　head　of　it；　otherwise　it　

follows　alphabetical　order。〃



The　Duchess　gazed　helplessly　at　the　string　of　names；　

which　seemed　for　the　moment　to　include　nearly　every　one　

she　knew。　　As　a　matter　of　fact；　her　own　name　at　the　head　

of　the　list　exercised　an　almost　paralysing　effect　on　her　

thinking　faculties。



〃Of　course　you　have　destroyed　the　papers？〃　she　

asked；　when　she　had　somewhat　recovered　herself。　　She　was　

conscious　that　she　made　the　remark　with　an　entire　lack　of　

conviction。



Vasco　shook　his　head。



〃But　you　should　have；〃　said　Lulu　angrily；　〃if；　as　

you　say；　they　are　highly　compromising　…　〃



〃Oh；　they　are；　I　assure　you　of　that；〃　interposed　the　

young　man。



〃Then　you　should　put　them　out　of　harm's　way　at　once。　　

Supposing　anything　should　leak　out；　think　of　all　these　

poor；　unfortunate　people　who　would　be　involved　in　the　

disclosures；〃　and　Lulu　tapped　the　list　with　an　agitated　

gesture。



〃Unfortunate；　perhaps；　but　not　poor；〃　corrected　

Vasco；　〃if　you　read　the　list　carefully　you'll　notice　that　

I　haven't　troubled　to　include　anyone　whose　financial　

standing　isn't　above　question。〃



Lulu　glared　at　her　nephew　for　some　moments　in　

silence。　　Then　she　asked　hoarsely：　〃What　are　you　going　to　

do？〃



〃Nothing　…　for　the　remainder　of　my　life；〃　he　

answered　meaningly。　　〃A　little　hunting；　perhaps；〃　he　

continued；　〃and　I　shall　have　a　villa　at　Florence。　　The　

Villa　Sub…Rosa　would　sound　rather　quaint　and　picturesque；　

don't　you　think；　and　quite　a　lot　of　people　would　be　able　

to　attach　a　meaning　to　the　name。　　And　I　suppose　I　must　

have　a　hobby；　I　shall　probably　collect　Raeburns。〃



Lulu's　relative；　who　lived　at　the　Court　of　Monaco；　

got　quite　a　snappish　answer　when　she　wrote　recommending　

some　further　invention　in　the　realm　of　marine　research。





THE　COBWEB





THE　farmhouse　kitchen　probably　stood　where　it　did　as　

a　matter　of　accident　or　haphazard　choice；　yet　its　

situation　might　have　been　planned　by　a　master…strategist　

in　farmhouse　architecture。　　Dairy　and　poultry…yard；　and　

herb　garden；　and　all　the　busy　places　of　the　farm　seemed　

to　lead　by　easy　access　into　its　wide　flagged　haven；　where　

there　was　room　for　everything　and　where　muddy　boots　left　

traces　that　were　easily　swept　away。　　And　yet；　for　all　

that　it　stood　so　well　in　the　centre　of　human　bustle；　its　

long；　latticed　window；　with　the　wide　window…seat；　built　

into　an　embrasure　beyond　the　huge　fireplace；　looked　out　

on　a　wild　spreading　view　of　hill　and　heather　and　wooded　

combe。　　The　window　nook　made　almost　a　little　room　in　

itself；　quite　the　pleasantest　room　in　the　farm　as　far　as　

situation　and　capabilities　went。　　Young　Mrs。　Ladbruk；　

whose　husband　had　just　come　into　the　farm　by　way　of　

inheritance；　cast　covetous　eyes　on　this　snug　corner；　and　

her　fingers　itched　to　make　it　bright　and　cosy　with　chintz　

curtains　and　bowls　of　flowers；　and　a　shelf　or　two　of　old　

china。　　The　musty　farm　parlour；　looking　out　on　to　a　prim；　

cheerless　garden　imprisoned　within　high；　blank　walls；　was　

not　a　room　that　lent　itself　readily　either　to　comfort　or　

decoration。



〃When　we　are　more　settled　I　shall　work　wonders　in　

the　way　of　making　the　kitchen　habitable；〃　said　the　young　

woman　to　her　occasional　visitors。　　There　was　an　unspoken　

wish　in　those　words；　a　wish　which　was　unconfessed　as　well　

as　unspoken。　　Emma　Ladbruk　was　the　mistress　of　the　farm；　

jointly　with　her　husband　she　might　have　her　say；　and　to　a　

certain　extent　her　way；　in　ordering　its　affairs。　　But　she　

was　not　mistress　of　the　kitchen。



On　one　of　the　shelves　of　an　old　dresser；　in　company　

with　chipped　sauce…boats；　pewter　jugs；　cheese…graters；　

and　paid　bills；　rested　a　worn　and　ragged　Bible；　on　whose　

front　page　was　the　record；　in　faded　ink；　of　a　baptism　

dated　ninety…four　years　ago。　〃Martha　Crale〃　was　the　name　

written　on　that　yellow　page。　　The　yellow；　wrinkled　old　

dame　who　hobbled　and　muttered　about　the　kitchen；　looking　

like　a　dead　autumn　leaf　which　the　winter　winds　still　

pushed　hither　and　thither；　had　once　been　Martha　Crale；　

for　seventy　odd　years　she　had　been　Martha　Mountjoy。　　For　

longer　than　anyone　could　remember　she　had　pattered　to　and　

fro　between　oven　and　wash…house　and　dairy；　and　out　to　

chicken…run　and　garden；　grumbling　and　muttering　and　

scolding；　but　working　unceasingly。　　Emma　Ladbruk；　of　

whose　coming　she　took　as　little　notice　as　she　would　of　a　

bee　wandering　in　at　a　window　on　a　summer's　day；　used　at　

first　to　watch　her　with　a　kind　of　frightened　curiosity。　　

She　was　so　old　and　so　much　a　part　of　the　place；　it　was　

difficult　to　think　of　her　exactly　as　a　living　thing。　　Old　

Shep；　the　white…nozzled；　stiff…limbed　collie；　waiting　for　

his　time　to　die；　seemed　almost　more　human　than　the　

withered；　dried…up　old　woman。　　He　had　been　a　riotous；　

roystering　puppy；　mad　with　the　joy　of　life；　when　she　was　

already　a　tottering；　hobbling　dame；　now　he　was　just　a　

blind；　breathing　carcase；　nothing　more；　and　she　still　

worked　with　frail　energy；　still　swept　and　baked　and　

washed；　fetched　and　carried。　　If　there　were　something　in　

these　wise　old　dogs　that　did　not　perish　utterly　with　

death；　Emma　used　to　think　to　herself；　what　generations　of　

ghost…dogs　there　must　be　out　on　those　hills；　that　Martha　

had　reared　and　fed　and　tended　and　spoken　a　last　goodbye　

word　to　in　that　old　kitchen。　　And　what　memories　she　must　

have　of　human　generations　that　had　passed　away　in　her　

time。　　It　was　difficult　for　anyone；　let　alone　a　stranger　

like　Emma；　to　get　her　to　talk　of　the　days　that　had　been；　

her　shrill；　quavering　speech　was　of　doors　that　had　been　

left　unfastened；　pails　that　had　got　mislaid；　calves　whose　

feeding…time　was　overdue；　and　the　various　little　faults　

and　lapses　that　chequer　a　farmhouse　routine。　　Now　and　

again；　when　election　time　came　round；　she　would　unstore　

her　recollections　of　the　old　names　round　which　the　fight　

had　waged　in　the　days　gone　by。　　There　had　been　a　

Palmerston；　that　had　been　a　name　down　Tiverton　way；　

Tiverton　was　not　a　far　journey　as　the　crow　flies；　but　to　

Martha　it　was　almost　a　foreign　country。　　Later　there　had　

been　Northcotes　and　Aclands；　and　many　other　newer　names　

that　she　had　forgotten；　the　names　changed；　but　it　was　

always　Libruls　and　Toories；　Yellows　and　Blues。　　And　they　

always　quarrelled　and　shouted　as　to　who　was　right　and　who　

was　wrong。　　The　one　they　quarrelled　about　most　was　a　fine　

old　gentleman　with　an　angry　face　…　she　had　seen　his　

picture　on　the　walls。　　She　had　seen　it　on　the　floor　too；　

with　a　rotten　apple　squashed　over　it；　for　the　farm　had　

changed　its　politics　from　time　to　time。　　Martha　had　never　

been　on　one　side　or　the　other；　none　of　〃they〃　had　ever　

done　the　farm　a　stroke　of　good。　　Such　was　her　sweeping　

verdict；　given　with　all　a　peasant's　distrust　of　the　

outside　world。



When　the　half…frightened　curiosity　had　somewhat　

faded　away；　Emma　Ladbruk　was　uncomfortably　conscious　of　

another　feeling　towards　the　old　woman。　　She　was　a　quaint　

old　tradition；　lingering　about　the　place；　she　was　part　

and　parcel　of　the　farm　itself；　she　was　something　at　once　

pathetic　and　picturesque　…　but　she　was　dreadfully　in　the　

way。　　Emma　had　come　to　the　farm　full　of　plans　for　little　

reforms　and　improvements；　in　part　the　result　of　training　

in　the　newest　ways　and　methods；　in　part　the　outcome　of　

her　own　ideas　and　fancies。　　Reforms　in　the　kitchen　

region；　if　those　deaf　old　ears　could　have　been　induced　to　

give　them　even　a　hearing；　would　have　met　with　short　

shrift　and　scornful　rejection；　and　the　kitchen　region　

spread　over　the　zone　of　dairy　and　market　business