within the tides-第28部分

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remembered　it　now。　　It　had　said：　　〃Mr。　Byrne！　　Look　out；　sir！〃　　A



warning　this。　　But　against　what？







He　landed　with　one　leap　in　the　middle　of　the　floor；　gasped　once；



then　looked　all　round　the　room。　　The　window　was　shuttered　and



barred　with　an　iron　bar。　　Again　he　ran　his　eyes　slowly　all　round



the　bare　walls；　and　even　looked　up　at　the　ceiling；　which　was　rather



high。　　Afterwards　he　went　to　the　door　to　examine　the　fastenings。



They　consisted　of　two　enormous　iron　bolts　sliding　into　holes　made



in　the　wall；　and　as　the　corridor　outside　was　too　narrow　to　admit　of



any　battering　arrangement　or　even　to　permit　an　axe　to　be　swung；



nothing　could　burst　the　door　open　…　unless　gunpowder。　　But　while　he



was　still　making　sure　that　the　lower　bolt　was　pushed　well　home；　he



received　the　impression　of　somebody's　presence　in　the　room。　　It　was



so　strong　that　he　spun　round　quicker　than　lightning。　　There　was　no



one。　　Who　could　there　be？　　And　yet　。　。　。







It　was　then　that　he　lost　the　decorum　and　restraint　a　man　keeps　up



for　his　own　sake。　　He　got　down　on　his　hands　and　knees；　with　the



lamp　on　the　floor；　to　look　under　the　bed；　like　a　silly　girl。　　He



saw　a　lot　of　dust　and　nothing　else。　　He　got　up；　his　cheeks　burning；



and　walked　about　discontented　with　his　own　behaviour　and



unreasonably　angry　with　Tom　for　not　leaving　him　alone。　　The　words：



〃Mr。　Byrne！　　Look　out；　sir；〃　kept　on　repeating　themselves　in　his



head　in　a　tone　of　warning。







〃Hadn't　I　better　just　throw　myself　on　the　bed　and　try　to　go　to



sleep；〃　he　asked　himself。　　But　his　eyes　fell　on　the　tall　wardrobe；



and　he　went　towards　it　feeling　irritated　with　himself　and　yet



unable　to　desist。　　How　he　could　explain　to…morrow　the　burglarious



misdeed　to　the　two　odious　witches　he　had　no　idea。　　Nevertheless　he



inserted　the　point　of　his　hanger　between　the　two　halves　of　the　door



and　tried　to　prize　them　open。　　They　resisted。　　He　swore；　sticking



now　hotly　to　his　purpose。　　His　mutter：　　〃I　hope　you　will　be



satisfied；　confound　you；〃　was　addressed　to　the　absent　Tom。　　Just



then　the　doors　gave　way　and　flew　open。







He　was　there。







He　…　the　trusty；　sagacious；　and　courageous　Tom　was　there；　drawn　up



shadowy　and　stiff；　in　a　prudent　silence；　which　his　wide…open　eyes



by　their　fixed　gleam　seemed　to　command　Byrne　to　respect。　　But　Byrne



was　too　startled　to　make　a　sound。　　Amazed；　he　stepped　back　a　little



…　and　on　the　instant　the　seaman　flung　himself　forward　headlong　as



if　to　clasp　his　officer　round　the　neck。　　Instinctively　Byrne　put



out　his　faltering　arms；　he　felt　the　horrible　rigidity　of　the　body



and　then　the　coldness　of　death　as　their　heads　knocked　together　and



their　faces　came　into　contact。　　They　reeled；　Byrne　hugging　Tom



close　to　his　breast　in　order　not　to　let　him　fall　with　a　crash。　　He



had　just　strength　enough　to　lower　the　awful　burden　gently　to　the



floor　…　then　his　head　swam；　his　legs　gave　way；　and　he　sank　on　his



knees；　leaning　over　the　body　with　his　hands　resting　on　the　breast



of　that　man　once　full　of　generous　life；　and　now　as　insensible　as　a



stone。







〃Dead！　my　poor　Tom；　dead；〃　he　repeated　mentally。　　The　light　of　the



lamp　standing　near　the　edge　of　the　table　fell　from　above　straight



on　the　stony　empty　stare　of　these　eyes　which　naturally　had　a　mobile



and　merry　expression。







Byrne　turned　his　own　away　from　them。　　Tom's　black　silk　neckerchief



was　not　knotted　on　his　breast。　　It　was　gone。　　The　murderers　had



also　taken　off　his　shoes　and　stockings。　　And　noticing　this



spoliation；　the　exposed　throat；　the　bare　up…turned　feet；　Byrne　felt



his　eyes　run　full　of　tears。　　In　other　respects　the　seaman　was　fully



dressed；　neither　was　his　clothing　disarranged　as　it　must　have　been



in　a　violent　struggle。　　Only　his　checked　shirt　had　been　pulled　a



little　out　the　waistband　in　one　place；　just　enough　to　ascertain



whether　he　had　a　money　belt　fastened　round　his　body。　　Byrne　began



to　sob　into　his　handkerchief。







It　was　a　nervous　outburst　which　passed　off　quickly。　　Remaining　on



his　knees　he　contemplated　sadly　the　athletic　body　of　as　fine　a



seaman　as　ever　had　drawn　a　cutlass；　laid　a　gun；　or　passed　the



weather　earring　in　a　gale；　lying　stiff　and　cold；　his　cheery；



fearless　spirit　departed　…　perhaps　turning　to　him；　his　boy　chum；　to



his　ship　out　there　rolling　on　the　grey　seas　off　an　iron…bound



coast；　at　the　very　moment　of　its　flight。







He　perceived　that　the　six　brass　buttons　of　Tom's　jacket　had　been



cut　off。　　He　shuddered　at　the　notion　of　the　two　miserable　and



repulsive　witches　busying　themselves　ghoulishly　about　the



defenceless　body　of　his　friend。　　Cut　off。　　Perhaps　with　the　same



knife　which　。　。　。　The　head　of　one　trembled；　the　other　was　bent



double；　and　their　eyes　were　red　and　bleared；　their　infamous　claws



unsteady。　。　。　It　must　have　been　in　this　very　room　too；　for　Tom



could　not　have　been　killed　in　the　open　and　brought　in　here



afterwards。　　Of　that　Byrne　was　certain。　　Yet　those　devilish　crones



could　not　have　killed　him　themselves　even　by　taking　him　unawares　…



and　Tom　would　be　always　on　his　guard　of　course。　　Tom　was　a　very



wide　awake　wary　man　when　engaged　on　any　service。　。　。　And　in　fact



how　did　they　murder　him？　　Who　did？　　In　what　way？







Byrne　jumped　up；　snatched　the　lamp　off　the　table；　and　stooped



swiftly　over　the　body。　　The　light　revealed　on　the　clothing　no



stain；　no　trace；　no　spot　of　blood　anywhere。　　Byrne's　hands　began　to



shake　so　that　he　had　to　set　the　lamp　on　the　floor　and　turn　away　his



head　in　order　to　recover　from　this　agitation。







Then　he　began　to　explore　that　cold；　still；　and　rigid　body　for　a



stab；　a　gunshot　wound；　for　the　trace　of　some　killing　blow。　　He　felt



all　over　the　skull　anxiously。　　It　was　whole。　　He　slipped　his　hand



under　the　neck。　　It　was　unbroken。　　With　terrified　eyes　he　peered



close　under　the　chin　and　saw　no　marks　of　strangulation　on　the



throat。







There　were　no　signs　anywhere。　　He　was　just　dead。







Impulsively　Byrne　got　away　from　the　body　as　if　the　mystery　of　an



incomprehensible　death　had　changed　his　pity　into　suspicion　and



dread。　　The　lamp　on　the　floor　near　the　set；　still　face　of　the



seaman　showed　it　staring　at　the　ceiling　as　if　despairingly。　　In　the



circle　of　light　Byrne　saw　by　the　undisturbed　patches　of　thick　dust



on　the　floor　that　there　had　been　no　struggle　in　that　room。　　〃He　has



died　outside；〃　he　thought。　　Yes；　outside　in　that　narrow　corridor；



where　there　was　hardly　room　to　turn；　the　mysterious　death　had　come



to　his　poor　dear　Tom。　　The　impulse　of　snatching　up　his　pistols　and



rushing　out　of　the　room　abandoned　Byrne　suddenly。　　For　Tom；　too；



had　been　armed　…　with　just　such　powerless　weapons　as　he　himself



possessed　…　pistols；　a　cutlass！　　And　Tom　had　died　a　nameless　death；



by　incomprehensible　means。







A　new　thought　came　to　Byrne。　　That　stranger　knocking　at　the　door



and　fleeing　so　swiftly　at　his　appearance　had　come　there　to　remove



the　body。　　Aha！　　That　was　the　guide　the　withered　witch　had　promised



would　show　the　English　officer　the　shortest　way　of　rejoining　his



man。　　A　promise；　he　saw　it　now；　of　dreadful　import。　　He　who　had



knocked　would　have　two　bodies　to　deal　with。　　Man　and　officer　would



go　forth　from　the　house　together。　　For　Byrne　was　certain　now　that



he　would　have　to　die　before　the　morning　…　and　in　the　same



mysterious　manner；　leaving　behind　him　an　unmarked　body。







The　sight　of　a　smashed　head；　of　a　throat　cut；　of　a　gaping　gunshot



wound；　would　have　been　an　inexpressible　relief。　　It　would　have



soothed　all　his　fears。　　His　soul　cried　within　him　to　that　dead　man



whom　he　had　never　found　wanting　in　danger。　　〃Why　don't　you　tell　me



what　I　am　to　look　for；　Tom？　　Why　don't　you？〃　　But　in　rigid



immobility；　extended　on　his　back；　he　seemed　to　preserve　an　austere



silence；　as　if　disdaining　in　the　finality　of　his　awful　knowledge　to



hold　converse　with　the　living。







Suddenly　Byrne　flung　himself　on　his　knees　by　the　side　of　the　body；



and　dry…eyed；　fierce；　opened　the　shirt　wide　on　the　breast；　as　if　to



tear　the　secret　forcibly　from　that　cold　heart　which　had　been　so



loyal　to　him　in　life！　　Nothing！　　Nothing！　　He　raised　the　lamp；　and



all　the　sign　vouchsafed　to　him　by　that　face　which　used　to　be　so



kindly　in　expression　was　a　small　bruise　on　the　forehead　…　the　least



thing；　a　mere　mark。　　The　skin　even　was　not　broken。　　He　stared　at　it



a　long　time　as　if　lost　in　a　dreadful　dream。　　Then　he　observed　that



Tom's　hands　were　clenched　as　though　he　had　fallen　facing　somebody



in　a　fight　with　fists。　　His　knuckles；　on　closer　view；　appeared



somewhat　abraded。　　Both　hands。







The　discovery　of　these　slight　signs　was　more　appalling　to　Byrne



than　the　absolute　absence　of　every　mark　would　have　been。　　So　Tom



had　died　striking　against　something　which　could　be　hit；　and　yet



could　kill　one　without　leaving　a　wound　…　by　a　breath。







Terror；　hot　terror；　began　to　play　about　Byrne's　heart　like　a　tongue



of　flame　that　touches　and　withdraws　before　it　turns　a　thing　to



ashes。　　He　backed　away　from　the　body　as　far　as　he　could；　then　came



forward　stealthily　casting　fearful　glances　to　steal　another　look　at



the　bruised　forehead。　　There　would　perhaps　be　such　a　faint　bruise



on　his　own　forehead　…　before　the　morning。







〃I　can't　bear　it；〃　he　whispered　to　himself。　　Tom　was　for　him　now　an



object　of　horror；　a　sight　at　once　tempting　and　revolting　to　his



fear。　　He　couldn't　bear　to　look　at　him。







At　last；　desperation　getting　the　better　of　his　increasing　horror；



he　stepped　forward　from　the　wall　against　which　he　had　been　leaning；



seized　the　corpse　under　the　armpits；　and　began　to　lug　it　over　to



the　bed。　　The　bare　heels　of　the　seaman　trailed　on　the　floor



noiselessly。　　He　was　heavy　with　the　dead　weight　of　inanimate



objects。　　Wit