classic mystery and detective stories-第54部分

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the　headless　man。



〃Your　poor　gr…ndm…ther　was　right　just　now；　when　she　said　she　was

not　my　first　love。　　'Twas　one　of　those　banale　expressions〃　（here

Mr。　P。　blushed　once　more）　〃which　we　use　to　women。　　We　tell　each　she

is　our　first　passion。　　They　reply　with　a　similar　illusory　formula。

No　man　is　any　woman's　first　love；　no　woman　any　man's。　　We　are　in

love　in　our　nurse's　arms；　and　women　coquette　with　their　eyes　before

their　tongue　can　form　a　word。　　How　could　your　lovely　relative　love

me？　　I　was　far；　far　too　old　for　her。　　I　am　older　than　I　look。　　I　am

so　old　that　you　would　not　believe　my　age　were　I　to　tell　you。　　I

have　loved　many　and　many　a　woman　before　your　relative。　　It　has　not

always　been　fortunate　for　them　to　love　me。　　Ah；　Sophronia！　　Round

the　dreadful　circus　where　you　fell；　and　whence　I　was　dragged

corpselike　by　the　heels；　there　sat　multitudes　more　savage　than　the

lions　which　mangled　your　sweet　form！　　Ah；　tenez！　when　we　marched　to

the　terrible　stake　together　at　Valladolidthe　Protestant　and　the

J　　But　away　with　memory！　　Boy！　it　was　happy　for　thy　grandam　that

she　loved　me　not。



〃During　that　strange　period；〃　he　went　on；　〃when　the　teeming　Time

was　great　with　the　revolution　that　was　speedily　to　be　born；　I　was

on　a　mission　in　Paris　with　my　excellent；　my　maligned　friend；

Cagliostro。　　Mesmer　was　one　of　our　band。　　I　seemed　to　occupy　but　an

obscure　rank　in　it：　though；　as　you　know；　in　secret　societies　the

humble　man　may　be　a　chief　and　directorthe　ostensible　leader　but　a

puppet　moved　by　unseen　hands。　　Never　mind　who　was　chief；　or　who　was

second。　　Never　mind　my　age。　　It　boots　not　to　tell　it：　why　shall　I

expose　myself　to　your　scornful　incredulityor　reply　to　your

questions　in　words　that　are　familiar　to　you；　but　which　you　cannot

understand？　　Words　are　symbols　of　things　which　you　know；　or　of

things　which　you　don't　know。　　If　you　don't　know　them；　to　speak　is

idle。〃　　（Here　I　confess　Mr。　P。　spoke　for　exactly　thirty…eight

minutes；　about　physics；　metaphysics；　language；　the　origin　and

destiny　of　man；　during　which　time　I　was　rather　bored；　and　to

relieve　my　ennui；　drank　a　half　glass　or　so　of　wine。）　　〃LOVE；

friend；　is　the　fountain　of　youth！　　It　may　not　happen　to　me　once

once　in　an　age：　but　when　I　love　then　I　am　young。　　I　loved　when　I

was　in　Paris。　　Bathilde；　Bathilde；　I　loved　theeah；　how　fondly！

Wine；　I　say；　more　wine！　　Love　is　ever　young。　　I　was　a　boy　at　the

little　feet　of　Bathilde　de　Bechamelthe　fair；　the　fond；　the

fickle；　ah；　the　false！〃　　The　strange　old　man's　agony　was　here

really　terrific；　and　he　showed　himself　much　more　agitated　than　when

he　had　been　speaking　about　my　gr…ndm…th…r。



〃I　thought　Blanche　might　love　me。　　I　could　speak　to　her　in　the

language　of　all　countries；　and　tell　her　the　lore　of　all　ages。　　I

could　trace　the　nursery　legends　which　she　loved　up　to　their

Sanscrit　source；　and　whisper　to　her　the　darkling　mysteries　of　the

Egyptian　Magi。　　I　could　chant　for　her　the　wild　chorus　that　rang　in

the　disheveled　Eleusinian　revel：　I　could　tell　her　and　I　would；　the

watchword　never　known　but　to　one　woman；　the　Saban　Queen；　which

Hiram　breathed　in　the　abysmal　ear　of　SolomonYou　don't　attend。

Psha！　you　have　drunk　too　much　wine！〃　　Perhaps　I　may　as　well　own

that　I　was　NOT　attending；　for　he　had　been　carrying　on　for　about

fifty…seven　minutes；　and　I　don't　like　a　man　to　have　ALL　the　talk　to

himself。



〃Blanche　de　Bechamel　was　wild；　then；　about　this　secret　of　Masonry。

In　early；　early　days　I　loved；　I　married　a　girl　fair　as　Blanche；

who；　too；　was　tormented　by　curiosity；　who；　too；　would　peep　into　my

closet；　into　the　only　secret　guarded　from　her。　　A　dreadful　fate

befell　poor　Fatima。　　An　ACCIDENT　shortened　her　life。　　Poor　thing！

she　had　a　foolish　sister　who　urged　her　on。　　I　always　told　her　to

beware　of　Ann。　　She　died。　　They　said　her　brothers　killed　me。　　A

gross　falsehood。　　AM　I　dead？　　If　I　were；　could　I　pledge　you　in　this

wine？〃



〃Was　your　name；〃　I　asked；　quite　bewildered；　〃was　your　name；　pray；

then；　ever　Blueb？〃



〃Hush！　the　waiter　will　overhear　you。　　Methought　we　were　speaking　of

Blanche　de　Bechamel。　　I　loved　her；　young　man。　　My　pearls；　and

diamonds；　and　treasure；　my　wit；　my　wisdom；　my　passion；　I　flung　them

all　into　the　child's　lap。　　I　was　a　fool。　　Was　strong　Samson　not　as

weak　as　I？　　Was　Solomon　the　Wise　much　better　when　Balkis　wheedled

him？　　I　said　to　the　kingBut　enough　of　that；　I　spake　of　Blanche　de

Bechamel。



〃Curiosity　was　the　poor　child's　foible。　　I　could　see；　as　I　talked

to　her；　that　her　thoughts　were　elsewhere　（as　yours；　my　friend；　have

been　absent　once　or　twice　to…night）。　　To　know　the　secret　of　Masonry

was　the　wretched　child's　mad　desire。　　With　a　thousand　wiles；

smiles；　caresses；　she　strove　to　coax　it　from　mefrom　MEha！　ha！



〃I　had　an　apprenticethe　son　of　a　dear　friend；　who　died　by　my　side

at　Rossbach；　when　Soubise；　with　whose　army　I　happened　to　be；

suffered　a　dreadful　defeat　for　neglecting　my　advice。　　The　Young

Chevalier　Goby　de　Mouchy　was　glad　enough　to　serve　as　my　clerk；　and

help　in　some　chemical　experiments　in　which　I　was　engaged　with　my

friend　Dr。　Mesmer。　　Bathilde　saw　this　young　man。　　Since　women　were；

has　it　not　been　their　business　to　smile　and　deceive；　to　fondle　and

lure？　　Away！　　From　the　very　first　it　has　been　so！〃　　And　as　my

companion　spoke；　he　looked　as　wicked　as　the　serpent　that　coiled

round　the　tree；　and　hissed　a　poisoned　counsel　to　the　first　woman。



〃One　evening　I　went；　as　was　my　wont；　to　see　Blanche。　　She　was

radiant：　she　was　wild　with　spirits：　a　saucy　triumph　blazed　in　her

blue　eyes。　　She　talked；　she　rattled　in　her　childish　way。　　She

uttered；　in　the　course　of　her　rhapsody；　a　hintan　intimationso

terrible　that　the　truth　flashed　across　me　in　a　moment。　　Did　I　ask

her？　　She　would　lie　to　me。　　But　I　knew　how　to　make　falsehood

impossible。　　And　I　ordered　her　to　go　to　sleep。〃



At　this　moment　the　clock　（after　its　previous　convulsions）　sounded

TWELVE。　　And　as　the　new　Editor*　of　the　Cornhill　Magazineand　HE；　I

promise　you；　won't　stand　any　nonsensewill　only　allow　seven　pages；

I　am　obliged　to　leave　off　at　THE　VERY　MOST　INTERESTING　POINT　OF　THE

STORY。





*　Mr。　Thackeray　retired　from　the　Editorship　of　the　Cornhill

Magazine　in　March；　1862





III





〃Are　you　of　our　fraternity？　　I　see　you　are　not。　　The　secret　which

Mademoiselle　de　Bechamel　confided　to　me　in　her　mad　triumph　and　wild

hoyden　spiritsshe　was　but　a　child；　poor　thing；　poor　thing；　scarce

fifteen；but　I　love　them　younga　folly　not　unusual　with　the　old！〃

（Here　Mr。　Pinto　thrust　his　knuckles　into　his　hollow　eyes；　and；　I　am

sorry　to　say；　so　little　regardful　was　he　of　personal　cleanliness；

that　his　tears　made　streaks　of　white　over　his　guarled　dark　hands。）

〃Ah；　at　fifteen；　poor　child；　thy　fate　was　terrible！　　Go　to！　　It　is

not　good　to　love　me；　friend。　　They　prosper　not　who　do。　　I　divine

you。　　You　need　not　say　what　you　are　thinking〃



In　truth；　I　was　thinking；　if　girls　fall　in　love　with　this　sallow；

hook…nosed；　glass…eyed；　wooden…legged；　dirty；　hideous　old　man；　with

the　sham　teeth；　they　have　a　queer　taste。　　THAT　is　what　I　was

thinking。



〃Jack　Wilkes　said　the　handsomest　man　in　London　had　but　half　an

hour's　start　of　him。　　And；　without　vanity；　I　am　scarcely　uglier

than　Jack　Wilkes。　　We　were　members　of　the　same　club　at　Medenham

Abbey；　Jack　and　I；　and　had　many　a　merry　night　together。　　Well；　sir；

IMary　of　Scotland　knew　me　but　as　a　little　hunchbacked　music

master；　and　yet；　and　yet；　I　think　she　was　not　indifferent　to　her

David　Rizand　SHE　came　to　misfortune。　　They　all　dothey　all　do！〃



〃Sir；　you　are　wandering　from　your　point！〃　I　said；　with　some

severity。　　For；　really；　for　this　old　humbug　to　hint　that　he　had

been　the　baboon　who　frightened　the　club　at　Medenham；　that　he　had

been　in　the　Inquisition　at　Valladolidthat　under　the　name　of　D。

Riz；　as　he　called　it；　he　had　known　the　lovely　Queen　of　Scotswas　a

LITTLE　too　much。　　〃Sir；〃　then　I　said；　〃you　were　speaking　about　a

Miss　Bechamel。　　I　really　have　not　time　to　hear　all　of　your

biography。〃



〃Faith；　the　good　wine　gets　into　my　head。〃　　（I　should　think　so；　the

old　toper！　　Four　bottles　all　but　two　glasses。）　　〃To　return　to　poor

Blanche。　　As　I　sat　laughing；　joking　with　her；　she　let　slip　a　word；

a　little　word；　which　filled　me　with　dismay。　　Some　one　had　told　her

a　part　of　the　Secretthe　secret　which　has　been　divulged　scarce

thrice　in　three　thousand　yearsthe　Secret　of　the　Freemasons。　　Do

you　know　what　happens　to　those　uninitiate　who　learn　that　secret？　to

those　wretched　men；　the　initiate　who　reveal　it？〃



As　Pinto　spoke　to　me；　he　looked　through　and　through　me　with　his

horrible　piercing　glance；　so　that　I　sat　quite　uneasily　on　my　bench。

He　continued：　〃Did　I　question　her　awake？　　I　knew　she　would　lie　to

me。　　Poor　child！　　I　loved　her　no　less　because　I　did　not　believe　a

word　she　said。　　I　loved　her　blue　eye；　her　golden　hair；　her

delicious　voice；　that　was　true　in　song；　though　when　she　spoke；

false　as　Eblis！　　You　are　aware　that　I　p