within the tides-第22部分

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it　was　they　were　just　in　time　before　a　furious　squall　came　on。



Cloete　is　dragged　into　the　life…boat　and　the　coxswain　tumbles　in。



Haul　away　on　the　grapnel；　he　shouts；　the　captain　has　shot　himself。



。　。







〃Cloete　was　like　a　dead　man　…　didn't　care　for　anything。　　He　let



that　Stafford　pinch　his　arm　twice　without　making　a　sign。　　Most　of



Westport　was　on　the　old　pier　to　see　the　men　out　of　the　life…boat；



and　at　first　there　was　a　sort　of　confused　cheery　uproar　when　she



came　alongside；　but　after　the　coxswain　has　shouted　something　the



voices　die　out；　and　everybody　is　very　quiet。　　As　soon　as　Cloete　has



set　foot　on　something　firm　he　becomes　himself　again。　　The　coxswain



shakes　hands　with　him：　　Poor　woman；　poor　woman；　I'd　rather　you　had



the　job　than　I。　。　。







〃Where's　the　mate？〃　asks　Cloete。　　He's　the　last　man　who　spoke　to



the　master。　。　。　Somebody　ran　along　…　the　crew　were　being　taken　to



the　Mission　Hall；　where　there　was　a　fire　and　shake…downs　ready　for



them　…　somebody　ran　along　the　pier　and　caught　up　with　Stafford。　。　。



Here！　　The　owner's　agent　wants　you。　。　。　Cloete　tucks　the　fellow's



arm　under　his　own　and　walks　away　with　him　to　the　left；　where　the



fishing…harbour　is。　。　。　I　suppose　I　haven't　misunderstood　you。　　You



wish　me　to　look　after　you　a　bit；　says　he。　　The　other　hangs　on　him



rather　limp；　but　gives　a　nasty　little　laugh：　　You　had　better；　he



mumbles；　but　mind；　no　tricks；　no　tricks；　Mr。　Cloete；　we　are　on　land



now。







〃There's　a　police　office　within　fifty　yards　from　here；　says　Cloete。



He　turns　into　a　little　public　house；　pushes　Stafford　along　the



passage。　　The　landlord　runs　out　of　the　bar。　。　。　This　is　the　mate　of



the　ship　on　the　rocks；　Cloete　explains；　I　wish　you　would　take　care



of　him　a　bit　to…night。　。　。　What's　the　matter　with　him？　asks　the



man。　　Stafford　leans　against　the　wall　in　the　passage；　looking



ghastly。　　And　Cloete　says　it's　nothing　…　done　up；　of　course。　。　。　I



will　be　responsible　for　the　expense；　I　am　the　owner's　agent。　　I'll



be　round　in　an　hour　or　two　to　see　him。







And　Cloete　gets　back　to　the　hotel。　　The　news　had　travelled　there



already；　and　the　first　thing　he　sees　is　George　outside　the　door　as



white　as　a　sheet　waiting　for　him。　　Cloete　just　gives　him　a　nod　and



they　go　in。　　Mrs。　Harry　stands　at　the　head　of　the　stairs；　and；　when



she　sees　only　these　two　coming　up；　flings　her　arms　above　her　head



and　runs　into　her　room。　　Nobody　had　dared　tell　her；　but　not　seeing



her　husband　was　enough。　　Cloete　hears　an　awful　shriek。　。　。　Go　to



her；　he　says　to　George。







〃While　he's　alone　in　the　private　parlour　Cloete　drinks　a　glass　of



brandy　and　thinks　it　all　out。　　Then　George　comes　in。　。　。　The



landlady's　with　her；　he　says。　　And　he　begins　to　walk　up　and　down



the　room；　flinging　his　arms　about　and　talking；　disconnected　like；



his　face　set　hard　as　Cloete　has　never　seen　it　before。　。　。　What　must



be；　must　be。　　Dead　…　only　brother。　　Well；　dead　…　his　troubles　over。



But　we　are　living；　he　says　to　Cloete；　and　I　suppose；　says　he；



glaring　at　him　with　hot；　dry　eyes；　that　you　won't　forget　to　wire　in



the　morning　to　your　friend　that　we　are　coming　in　for　certain。　。　。







〃Meaning　the　patent…medicine　fellow。　。　。　Death　is　death　and



business　is　business；　George　goes　on；　and　look　…　my　hands　are



clean；　he　says；　showing　them　to　Cloete。　　Cloete　thinks：　　He's　going



crazy。　　He　catches　hold　of　him　by　the　shoulders　and　begins　to　shake



him：　　Damn　you　…　if　you　had　had　the　sense　to　know　what　to　say　to



your　brother；　if　you　had　had　the　spunk　to　speak　to　him　at　all；　you



moral　creature　you；　he　would　be　alive　now；　he　shouts。







〃At　this　George　stares；　then　bursts　out　weeping　with　a　great



bellow。　　He　throws　himself　on　the　couch；　buries　his　face　in　a



cushion；　and　howls　like　a　kid。　。　。　That's　better；　thinks　Cloete；



and　he　leaves　him；　telling　the　landlord　that　he　must　go　out；　as　he



has　some　little　business　to　attend　to　that　night。　　The　landlord's



wife；　weeping　herself；　catches　him　on　the　stairs：　　Oh；　sir；　that



poor　lady　will　go　out　of　her　mind。　。　。







〃Cloete　shakes　her　off；　thinking　to　himself：　　Oh　no！　　She　won't。



She　will　get　over　it。　　Nobody　will　go　mad　about　this　affair　unless



I　do。　　It　isn't　sorrow　that　makes　people　go　mad；　but　worry。







〃There　Cloete　was　wrong。　　What　affected　Mrs。　Harry　was　that　her



husband　should　take　his　own　life；　with　her；　as　it　were；　looking　on。



She　brooded　over　it　so　that　in　less　than　a　year　they　had　to　put　her



into　a　Home。　　She　was　very；　very　quiet；　just　gentle　melancholy。



She　lived　for　quite　a　long　time。







〃Well；　Cloete　splashes　along　in　the　wind　and　rain。　　Nobody　in　the



streets　…　all　the　excitement　over。　　The　publican　runs　out　to　meet



him　in　the　passage　and　says　to　him：　　Not　this　way。　　He　isn't　in　his



room。　　We　couldn't　get　him　to　go　to　bed　nohow。　　He's　in　the　little



parlour　there。　　We've　lighted　him　a　fire。　。　。　You　have　been　giving



him　drinks　too；　says　Cloete；　I　never　said　I　would　be　responsible



for　drinks。　　How　many？　。　。　。　Two；　says　the　other。　　It's　all　right。



I　don't　mind　doing　that　much　for　a　shipwrecked　sailor。　。　。　Cloete



smiles　his　funny　smile：　　Eh？　　Come。　　He　paid　for　them。　。　。　The



publican　just　blinks。　。　。　Gave　you　gold；　didn't　he？　　Speak　up！　。　。



。　What　of　that！　cries　the　man。　　What　are　you　after；　anyway？　　He　had



the　right　change　for　his　sovereign。







〃Just　so；　says　Cloete。　　He　walks　into　the　parlour；　and　there　he



sees　our　Stafford；　hair　all　up　on　end；　landlord's　shirt　and　pants



on；　bare　feet　in　slippers；　sitting　by　the　fire。　　When　he　sees



Cloete　he　casts　his　eyes　down。







〃You　didn't　mean　us　ever　to　meet　again；　Mr。　Cloete；　Stafford　says；



demurely。　。　。　That　fellow；　when　he　had　the　drink　he　wanted　…　he



wasn't　a　drunkard　…　would　put　on　this　sort　of　sly；　modest　air。　。　。



But　since　the　captain　committed　suicide；　he　says；　I　have　been



sitting　here　thinking　it　out。　　All　sorts　of　things　happen。



Conspiracy　to　lose　the　ship　…　attempted　murder　…　and　this　suicide。



For　if　it　was　not　suicide；　Mr。　Cloete；　then　I　know　of　a　victim　of



the　most　cruel；　cold…blooded　attempt　at　murder；　somebody　who　has



suffered　a　thousand　deaths。　　And　that　makes　the　thousand　pounds　of



which　we　spoke　once　a　quite　insignificant　sum。　　Look　how　very



convenient　this　suicide　is。　。　。







〃He　looks　up　at　Cloete　then；　who　smiles　at　him　and　comes　quite



close　to　the　table。







〃You　killed　Harry　Dunbar；　he　whispers。　。　。　The　fellow　glares　at　him



and　shows　his　teeth：　　Of　course　I　did！　　I　had　been　in　that　cabin



for　an　hour　and　a　half　like　a　rat　in　a　trap。　。　。　Shut　up　and　left



to　drown　in　that　wreck。　　Let　flesh　and　blood　judge。　　Of　course　I



shot　him！　　I　thought　it　was　you；　you　murdering　scoundrel；　come　back



to　settle　me。　　He　opens　the　door　flying　and　tumbles　right　down　upon



me；　I　had　a　revolver　in　my　hand；　and　I　shot　him。　　I　was　crazy。　　Men



have　gone　crazy　for　less。







〃Cloete　looks　at　him　without　flinching。　　Aha！　　That's　your　story；



is　it？　。　。　。　And　he　shakes　the　table　a　little　in　his　passion　as　he



speaks。　。　。　Now　listen　to　mine。　　What's　this　conspiracy？　　Who's



going　to　prove　it？　　You　were　there　to　rob。　　You　were　rifling　his



cabin；　he　came　upon　you　unawares　with　your　hands　in　the　drawer；　and



you　shot　him　with　his　own　revolver。　　You　killed　to　steal　…　to



steal！　　His　brother　and　the　clerks　in　the　office　know　that　he　took



sixty　pounds　with　him　to　sea。　　Sixty　pounds　in　gold　in　a　canvas



bag。　　He　told　me　where　they　were。　　The　coxswain　of　the　life…boat



can　swear　to　it　that　the　drawers　were　all　empty。　　And　you　are　such



a　fool　that　before　you're　half　an　hour　ashore　you　change　a



sovereign　to　pay　for　a　drink。　　Listen　to　me。　　If　you　don't　turn　up



day　after　to…morrow　at　George　Dunbar's　solicitors；　to　make　the



proper　deposition　as　to　the　loss　of　the　ship；　I　shall　set　the



police　on　your　track。　　Day　after　to…morrow。　。　。







〃And　then　what　do　you　think？　　That　Stafford　begins　to　tear　his



hair。　　Just　so。　　Tugs　at　it　with　both　hands　without　saying



anything。　　Cloete　gives　a　push　to　the　table　which　nearly　sends　the



fellow　off　his　chair；　tumbling　inside　the　fender；　so　that　he　has



got　to　catch　hold　of　it　to　save　himself。　。　。







〃You　know　the　sort　of　man　I　am；　Cloete　says；　fiercely。　　I've　got　to



a　point　that　I　don't　care　what　happens　to　me。　　I　would　shoot　you



now　for　tuppence。







〃At　this　the　cur　dodges　under　the　table。　　Then　Cloete　goes　out；　and



as　he　turns　in　the　street　…　you　know；　little　fishermen's　cottages；



all　dark；　raining　in　torrents；　too　…　the　other　opens　the　window　of



the　parlour　and　speaks　in　a　sort　of　crying　voice　…







〃You　low　Yankee　fiend　…　I'll　pay　you　off　some　day。







〃Cloete　passes　by　with　a　damn　bitter　laugh；　because　he　thinks　that



the　fellow　in　a　way　has　paid　him　off　already；　if　he　only　knew　it。〃











My　impressive　ruffian　drank　what　remained　of　his　beer；　while　his



black；　sunken　eyes　looked　at　me　over　the　rim。







〃I　don't　quite　understand　this；〃　I　said。　　〃In　what　way？〃







He　unbent　a　little　and　explained　without　too　much　scorn　that



Captain　Harry　being　dead；　his　half　of　the　insurance　money　went　to



his　wife；　and　her　trustees　of　course　bought　consols　with　it。



Enough　to　keep　her　comfortable。　　George　Dunbar's　half；　as　Cloete



feared　from　the　first；　did　not　prove　sufficient　to　launch　the



medicine　well；　other　moneyed　men　stepped　in；　and　these　two　had　to



go　out　of　that　business；　pretty　nearly　shorn　of　everything。







〃I　am　curious；〃　I　said；　〃to　learn　what　the　motive　force　of　this



tragic　affair　was　…　I　mean　the　patent　medicine。　　Do　you　know？〃







He　named　it；　and　I　whistled　respectfully。　　Nothing　less　than



Parker's　Lively　Lumbago　Pills。　　Enormous　property！　　You　know　it；



all　the　world　knows　it。　　Every　second　man；　at　lea