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classic mystery and detective stories-第37部分
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has remained so deep in oblivion; appears immediately on a glance
at the original。 The author; Charles Robert Maturin; a needy;
eccentric Irish clergyman of 1780…1824; could cause intense
suspense and horrorcould read keenly into human motivescould
teach an awful moral lesson in the guise of fascinating fiction;
but he could not stick to a long story with simplicity。 His dozens
of shifting scenes; his fantastic coils of 〃tales within tales〃
sadly perplex the reader of 〃Melmoth〃 in the first version。 It is
hoped; however; that the present selection; by its directness and
the clearness of the story thread; may please the modern reader
better than the involved original; and bring before a wider public
some of the most gripping descriptions ever penned in English。
In Volume IV of these stories comes a tale; 〃Melmoth Reconciled;〃
which Balzac himself wrote; while under the spell of Maturin's
〃great allegorical figure。〃 Here the unhappy being succeeds in his
purpose。 The story takes place in mocking; careless Paris; 〃that
branch establishment of hell〃; a cashier; on the eve of
embezzlement and detection; cynically accedes to Melmoth's terms;
and accepts his helpwith what unlooked…for results; the reader
may see。
Charles Robert Maturin
Melmoth the Wanderer
John Melmoth; student at Trinity College; Dublin; having journeyed
to County Wicklow for attendance at the deathbed of his miserly
uncle; finds the old man; even in his last moments; tortured by
avarice; and by suspicion of all around him。 He whispers to John:
〃I want a glass of wine; it would keep me alive for some hours; but
there is not one I can trust to get it for me;they'd steal a
bottle; and ruin me。〃 John was greatly shocked。 〃Sir; for God's
sake; let ME get a glass of wine for you。〃 〃Do you know where?〃
said the old man; with an expression in his face John could not
understand。 〃No; Sir; you know I have been rather a stranger here;
Sir。〃 〃Take this key;〃 said old Melmoth; after a violent spasm;
〃take this key; there is wine in that closet;Madeira。 I always
told them there was nothing there; but they did not believe me; or
I should not have been robbed as I have been。 At one time I said
it was whisky; and then I fared worse than ever; for they drank
twice as much of it。〃
John took the key from his uncle's hand; the dying man pressed it
as he did so; and John; interpreting this as a mark of kindness;
returned the pressure。 He was undeceived by the whisper that
followed;〃John; my lad; don't drink any of that wine while you
are there。〃 〃Good God!〃 said John; indignantly throwing the key on
the bed; then; recollecting that the miserable being before him was
no object of resentment; he gave the promise required; and entered
the closet; which no foot but that of old Melmoth had entered for
nearly sixty years。 He had some difficulty in finding out the
wine; and indeed stayed long enough to justify his uncle's
suspicions;but his mind was agitated; and his hand unsteady。 He
could not but remark his uncle's extraordinary look; that had the
ghastliness of fear superadded to that of death; as he gave him
permission to enter his closet。 He could not but see the looks of
horror which the women exchanged as he approached it。 And;
finally; when he was in it; his memory was malicious enough to
suggest some faint traces of a story; too horrible for imagination;
connected with it。 He remembered in one moment most distinctly;
that no one but his uncle had ever been known to enter it for many
years。
Before he quitted it; he held up the dim light; and looked around
him with a mixture of terror and curiosity。 There was a great deal
of decayed and useless lumber; such as might be supposed to be
heaped up to rot in a miser's closet; but John's eyes were in a
moment; and as if by magic; riveted on a portrait that hung on the
wall; and appeared; even to his untaught eye; far superior to the
tribe of family pictures that are left to molder on the walls of a
family mansion。 It represented a man of middle age。 There was
nothing remarkable in the costume; or in the countenance; but THE
EYES; John felt; were such as one feels they wish they had never
seen; and feels they can never forget。 Had he been acquainted with
the poetry of Southey; he might have often exclaimed in his after…
life;
〃Only the eyes had life;
They gleamed with demon light。〃THALABA。
From an impulse equally resistless and painful; he approached the
portrait; held the candle toward it; and could distinguish the
words on the border of the painting;Jno。 Melmoth; anno 1646。
John was neither timid by nature; nor nervous by constitution; nor
superstitious from habit; yet he continued to gaze in stupid horror
on this singular picture; till; aroused by his uncle's cough; he
hurried into his room。 The old man swallowed the wine。 He
appeared a little revived; it was long since he had tasted such a
cordial;his heart appeared to expand to a momentary confidence。
〃John; what did you see in that room?〃 〃Nothing; Sir。〃 〃That's a
lie; everyone wants to cheat or to rob me。〃 〃Sir; I don't want to
do either。〃 〃Well; what did you see that youyou took notice of?〃
〃Only a picture; Sir。〃 〃A picture; Sir!the original is still
alive。〃 John; though under the impression of his recent feelings;
could not but look incredulous。 〃John;〃 whispered his uncle;
〃John; they say I am dying of this and that; and one says it is for
want of nourishment; and one says it is for want of medicine;but;
John;〃 and his face looked hideously ghastly; 〃I am dying of a
fright。 That man;〃 and he extended his meager arm toward the
closet; as if he was pointing to a living being; 〃that man; I have
good reason to know; is alive still。〃 〃How is that possible; Sir?〃
said John involuntarily; 〃the date on the picture is 1646。〃 〃You
have seen it;you have noticed it;〃 said his uncle。 〃Well;〃he
rocked and nodded on his bolster for a moment; then; grasping
John's hand with an unutterable look; he exclaimed; 〃You will see
him again; he is alive。〃 Then; sinking back on his bolster; he
fell into a kind of sleep or stupor; his eyes still open; and fixed
on John。
The house was now perfectly silent; and John had time and space for
reflection。 More thoughts came crowding on him than he wished to
welcome; but they would not be repulsed。 He thought of his uncle's
habits and character; turned the matter over and over again in his
mind; and he said to himself; 〃The last man on earth to be
superstitious。 He never thought of anything but the price of
stocks; and the rate of exchange; and my college expenses; that
hung heavier at his heart than all; and such a man to die of a
fright;a ridiculous fright; that a man living 150 years ago is
alive still; and yethe is dying。〃 John paused; for facts will
confute the most stubborn logician。 〃With all his hardness of
mind; and of heart; he is dying of a fright。 I heard it in the
kitchen; I have heard it from himself;he could not be deceived。
If I had ever heard he was nervous; or fanciful; or superstitious;
but a character so contrary to all these impressions;a man that;
as poor Butler says; in his 'Remains of the Antiquarian;' would
have 'sold Christ over again for the numerical piece of silver
which Judas got for him;'such a man to die of fear! Yet he IS
dying;〃 said John; glancing his fearful eye on the contracted
nostril; the glazed eye; the drooping jaw; the whole horrible
apparatus of the facies Hippocraticae displayed; and soon to cease
its display。
Old Melmoth at this moment seemed to be in a deep stupor; his eyes
lost that little expression they had before; and his hands; that
had convulsively been catching at the blankets; let go their short
and quivering grasp; and lay extended on the bed like the claws of
some bird that had died of hunger;so meager; so yellow; so
spread。 John; unaccustomed to the sight of death; believed this to
be only a sign that he was going to sleep; and; urged by an impulse
for which he did not attempt to account to himself; caught up the
miserable light; and once more ventured into the forbidden room;
the BLUE CHAMBER of the dwelling。 The motion roused the dying
man;he sat bolt upright in his bed。 This John could not see; for
he was now in the closet; but he heard the groan; or rather the
choked and gurgling rattle of the throat; that announces the
horrible conflict between muscular and mental convulsion。 He
started; turned away; but; as he turned away; he thought he saw the
eyes of the portrait; on which his own was fixed; MOVE; and hurried
back to his uncle's bedside。
Old Melmoth died in the course of that night; and died as he had
lived; in a kind of avaricious delirium。 John could not have
imagined a scene so horrible as his last hours presented。 He
cursed and blasphemed about three ha
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