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"LISTEN to this," said Lady Cynthia Drage.
She read aloud from the journal she held in her hand.
"Mr. and Mrs. Unkerton are entertaining a party at Greenways House this week. Amongst the guests are Lady Cynthia Drage, Mr. and Mrs. Richard Scott, Major Porter, D.S.O., Mrs. Staverton, Captain Allenson and Mr. Satterthwaite."
"It's as well, "remarked Lady Cynthia, casting away the paper, "to know what we're in for. But they have made a mess of things!"
Her companion, that same Mr. Satterthwaite whose name figured at the end of the list of guests, looked at her interrogatively. It had been said that if Mr. Satterthwaite were found at the houses of those rich who had newly arrived, it was a sign either that the cooking was unusually good, or that a drama of human life was to be enacted1 there. Mr. Satterthwaite was abnormally interested in the comedies and tragedies of his fellow men.
Lady Cynthia, who was a middle-aged2 woman, with a hard face and a liberal allowance of make-up, tapped him smartly with the newest thing in parasols which lay rakishly across her knee.
"Don't pretend you don't understand me. You do perfectly3. What's more I believe you're here on purpose to see the fur fly!"
Mr. Satterthwaite protested vigorously. He didn't know what she was talking about.
"I'm talking about Richard Scott Do you pretend you've never heard of him?"
"No, of course not. He's the Big Game man, isn't he?"
"That's it------ 'Great big bears and tigers, etc.' as the song says. Of course, he's a great lion himself just now--the Unkertons would naturally be mad to get hold of him--and the bride! A charming child--Oh! Quite a charming child--but so naive4, only twenty, you know, and he must be at least forty-five."
"Yes, poor child."
"Why poor child?"
Lady Cynthia cast him a look of reproach, and went on approaching the point at issue in her own manner.
"Porter's all right--a dull dog, though--another of these African hunters, all sunburnt and silent. Second fiddle6 to Richard Scott and always has been--life-long friends and all that sort of thing. When I come to think of it, I believe they were together on that trip------"
"Which trip?"
"The trip. The Mrs. Staverton trip. You'll be saying next you've never heard of Mrs. Staverton."
"I have heard of Mrs. Staverton," said Mr. Satterthwaite, almost with unwillingness7.
And he and Lady Cynthia exchanged glances
"It's so exactly like the Unkertons, "wailed8 the latter, "they are absolutely hopeless--socially, I mean. The idea of asking those two together! Of course they'd heard that Mrs. Staverton was a sportswoman and a traveller and all that, and about her book. People like the Unkertons don't even begin to realise what pitfalls9 there are! I've been running them, myself, for the last year, and what I've gone through nobody knows. One has to be constantly at their elbow. 'Don't do that!' 'You can't do this!' Thank goodness, I'm through with it now. Not that we've quarrelled--Oh! No, I never quarrel, but somebody else can take on the job. As I've always said, I can put up with vulgarity, but I can't stand meanness!"
After this somewhat cryptic10 utterance11, Lady Cynthia was silent for a moment, ruminating12 on the Unkertons' meanness as displayed to herself.
"If I'd still been running the show for them," she went on presently, "I should have said quite firmly and plainly--"You can't ask Mrs. Staverton with the Richard Scotts. She and he were once-----"
She stopped eloquently13.
"But were they once?" asked Mr. Satterthwaite.
"My dear man! It's well known. That trip into the Interior! I'm surprised the woman had the face to accept the invitation."
"Perhaps she didn't know the others were coming?" suggested Mr. Satterthwaite.
"Perhaps she did. That's far more likely."
"You think------?"
"She's what I call a dangerous woman--the sort of woman who'd stick at nothing. I wouldn't be in Richard Scott's shoes this week-end."
"And his wife knows nothing, you think?"
"I'm certain of it. But I suppose some kind friend will enlighten her sooner or later. Here's Jimmy Allenson. Such a nice boy. He saved my life in Egypt last winter--I was so bored, you know. Hullo, Jimmy, come here at once."
Captain Allenson obeyed, dropping down on the turf beside her. He was a handsome young fellow of thirty, with white teeth and an infectious smile.
"I'm glad somebody wants me," he observed." The Scotts are doing the turtle dove stunt14, two required, not three, Porter's devouring15 the Field, and I've been in mortal danger of being entertained by my hostess."
He laughed. Lady Cynthia laughed with him. Mr. Satterthwaite, who was in some ways a little old-fashioned, so much so that he seldom made fun of his host and hostess until after he had left their house, remained grave.
"Poor Jimmy," said Lady Cynthia,
"Mine not to reason why, mine but to swiftly fly. I had a Barrow escape of being told the family ghost story."
"An Unkerton ghost," said Lady Cynthia. " ow screaming."
"Not an Unkerton ghost," said Mr. Satterthwaite. "A Greenways ghost. They bought it with the house."
"Of course," said Lady Cynthia. "I remember now. But it doesn't clank chains, does it? It's only something to do with a window."
Jimmy Allenson looked up quickly.
"A window?"
But for the moment Mr. Satterthwaite did not answer. He was looking over Jimmy's head at three figures approaching from the direction of the house--a slim girl between two men. There was a superficial resemblance between the men, both were tall and dark with bronzed faces and quick eyes, but looked at more closely the resemblance vanished. Richard Scott, hunter and explorer, was a man of extraordinarily16 vivid personality. He had a manner that radiated magnetism17. John Porter, his friend and fellow hunter, was a man of squarer build with an impassive, rather wooden face, and very thoughtful grey eyes. He was a quiet man, content always to play second fiddle to his friend.
And between these two walked Moira Scott who, until three months ago, had been Moira O'Connell. A slender figure, big wistful brown eyes, and golden red hair that stood out round her small face like a saint's halo.
"That child mustn't be hurt," said Mr. Satterthwaite to himself. "It would be abominable18 that a child like that should be hurt."
Lady Cynthia greeted the newcomers with a wave of the latest thing in parasols.
"Sit down, and don't interrupt," she said. "Mr. Satterthwaite is telling us a ghost story."
"I love ghost stories," said Moira Scott. She dropped down on the grass.
"The ghost of Greenways House?" asked Richard Scott.
"Yes. You know about it?"
Scott nodded.
"I used to stay here in the old days," he explained. "Before the Elliots had to sell up. The Watching Cavalier, that's it, isn't it?"
"The Watching Cavalier," said his wife softly. "I like that. It sounds interesting. Please go on."
But Mr. Satterthwaite seemed somewhat loath19 to do so. He assured her that it was not really interesting at all.
"Now you've done it, Satterthwaite," said Richard Scott sardonically20. "That hint of reluctance21 clinches22 it."
In response to popular clamour, Mr. Satterthwaite was forced to speak.
"It's really very uninteresting," he said apologetically. "I believe the original story centres round a Cavalier ancestor of the Elliot family. His wife had a Roundhead lover. The husband was killed by the lover in an upstairs room, and the guilty pair fled, but as they fled, they looked back at the house, and saw the face of the dead husband at the window, watching them. That is the legend, but the ghost story is only concerned with a pane23 of glass in the window of that particular room on which is an irregular stain, almost imperceptible from near at hand, but which from far away certainly gives the effect of a man's face looking out."
"Which window is it?" asked Mrs. Scott, looking up at the house.
"You can't see it from here," said Mr. Satterthwaite. "It is round the other side but was boarded up from the inside some years ago--forty years ago, I think, to be accurate."
"What did they do that for? I thought you said the ghost didn't walk."
"It doesn't," Mr. Satterthwaite assured her. "I suppose-- well, I suppose there grew to be a superstitious24 feeling about it, that's all."
Then, deftly25 enough, he succeeded in turning the conversation. Jimmy Allenson was perfectly ready to hold forth26 upon Egyptian sand diviners.
"Frauds, most of them. Ready enough to tell you vague things about the past, but won't commit themselves as to the future."
"I should have thought it was usually the other way about," remarked John Porter.
"It's illegal to tell the future in this country, isn't it?" said Richard Scott. "Moira persuaded a gypsy into telling her fortune, but the woman gave her her shilling back, and said there was nothing doing, or words to that effect."
"Don't pile on the agony, Mrs. Scott," said Allenson lightly. "I, for one, refuse to believe that an unlucky fate is hanging over you."
"I wonder," thought Mr. Satterthwaite to himself. "I wonder..."
Then he looked up sharply. Two women were coming from the house, a short stout28 woman with black hair, inappropriately dressed in jade29 green, and a, tall slim figure in creamy white. The first woman was his hostess, Mrs. Unkerton, the second was a woman he had often heard of, but never met.
"Here's Mrs. Staverton," announced Mrs. Unkerton, in a tone of great satisfaction. "All friends here, I think."
"These people have an uncanny gift for saying just the most awful things they can, "murmured Lady Cynthia, but Mr. Satterthwaite was not listening. He was watching Mrs. Staverton.
Very easy--very natural Her careless "Hullo! Richard, ages since we met. Sorry I couldn't come to the wedding. Is this your wife? You must be tired of meeting all your husband's weather-beaten old friends." Moira's response--suitable, rather shy. The elder woman's swift appraising30 glance that went on lightly to another old friend.
"Hullo, John!" The same easy tone, but with a subtle difference in it--a warming quality that had been absent before.
And then that sudden smile. It transformed her. Lady Cynthia had been quite right. A dangerous woman! Very fair--deep blue eyes--not the traditional colouring of the siren---a face almost haggard in repose31. A woman with a slow dragging voice and a sudden dazzling smile.
Iris32 Staverton sat down. She became naturally and inevitably33 the centre of the group. So you felt it would always be.
Mr. Satterthwaite was recalled from his thoughts by Major Porter's suggesting a stroll. Mr. Satterthwaite, who was not as a general rule much given to strolling, acquiesced34. The two men sauntered off together across the lawn
"Very interesting story of yours just now," said the Major.
"I will show you the window," said Mr. Satterthwaite.
He led the way round to the west side of the house. Here there was a small formal garden--the Privy35 Garden, it was always called, and there was some point in the name, for it was surrounded by high holly37 hedges, and even the entrance to it ran zigzag38 between the same high prickly hedges.
Once inside, it was very charming with an old-world charm of formal flower beds, flagged paths and a low stone seat, exquisitely39 carved. When they had reached the centre of the garden, Mr. Satterthwaite turned and pointed40 up at the house. The length of Greenways House ran north and south. In this narrow west wall there was only one window, a window on the first floor, almost overgrown by ivy36, with grimy panes41, and which you could just see was boarded up on the inside.
"There you are," said Mr. Satterthwaite.
Craning his neck a little, Porter looked up.
"H 'm I can see a kind of discolouration on one of the panes, nothing more."
"We're too near," said Mr. Satterthwaite. "There's a clearing higher up in the woods where you get a really good view"
He led the way out of the Privy Garden, and turning sharply to the left, struck into the woods. A certain enthusiasm of showmanship possessed42 him, and he hardly noticed that the man at his side was absent and inattentive.
"They had, of course, to make another window, when they boarded up this one," he explained. "The new one faces south overlooking the lawn where we were sitting just now. I rather fancy the Scores have the room in question. That is why I didn't want to pursue the subject. Mrs. Scott might have felt nervous if she had realised that she was sleeping in what might be called the haunted room."
"Yes. I see," said Porter.
Mr. Satterthwaite looked at him sharply, and realised that the other had not heard a word of what he was saying.
"Very interesting," said Porter. He slashed43 with his stick at some tall foxgloves, and, frowning, he said. "She ought not to have come. She ought never to have come."
People often spoke44 after this fashion to Mr. Satterthwaite. He seemed to matter so little, to have so negative a personality. He was merely a glorified45 listener.
"No," said Porter, "she ought never to have come."
Mr. Satterthwaite knew instinctively46 that it was not of Mrs. Scott he spoke.
"You think not?" he asked.
Porter shook his head as though in foreboding.
"I was on that trip," he said abruptly47. "The three of us went. Scott and I and Iris. She's a wonderful woman--and a damned fine shot." he paused. "What made them ask her?" he finished abruptly.
"Ignorance," he said.
"There's going to be trouble," said the other. "We must stand by--and do what we can."
"But surely Mrs. Staverton------?"
"I'm talking of Scott." he paused. "You see--there's Mrs. Scott to consider."
Mr. Satterthwaite had been considering her all along, but he did not think it necessary to say so, since the other man had so clearly forgotten her until this minute.
" ow did Scott meet his wife?" he asked.
"Last winter, in Cairo. A quick business. They were engaged in three weeks, and married in six."
"She seems to me very charming."
"She is, no doubt about it. And he adores her--but that will make no difference. "And again Major Porter repeated to himself, using the pronoun that meant to him one person only: "hang it all, she shouldn't have come..."
Just then they stepped out upon a high grassy49 knoll50 at some little distance from the house. With again something of the pride of the showman, Mr. Satterthwaite stretched out his arm.
"Look," he said.
It was fast growing dusk. The window could still be plainly descried51, and apparently52 pressed against one of the panes was a man's face surmounted53 by a plumed54 cavalier's hat.
"Very curious," said Porter. "Really very curious. What will happen when that pane of glass gets smashed some day?"
Mr. Satterthwaite smiled.
"That is one of the most interesting parts of the story. That pane of glass has been replaced to my certain knowledge at least eleven times, perhaps oftener. The last time was twelve years ago when the then owner of the house determined55 to destroy the myth. But it's always the same. The stain reappears--not all at once, the discolouration spreads gradually. It takes a month or two as a rule."
For the first time, Porter showed signs of real interest. He gave a sudden quick shiver.
"Damned odd, these things. No accounting56 for them. What's the real reason of having the room boarded up inside?"
"Well, an idea got about that the room was--unlucky. The Eveshams were in it just before the divorce. Then Stanley and his wife were staying here, and had that room when he ran off with his chorus girl"
"I see. Danger, not to life, but to morals."
"And now, "thought Mr. Satterthwaite to himself, "the Scotts have it... I wonder..."
They retraced58 their steps in silence to the house. Walking almost noiselessly on the soft turf, each absorbed in his own thoughts, they became unwittingly eavesdroppers.
They were rounding the corner of the holly hedge when they heard Iris Staverton's voice raised fierce and clear from the depths of the Privy Garden.
"You shall be sorry--sorry--for this!"
Scott's voice answered low and uncertain, so that the words could not be distinguished59, and then the woman's voice rose again, speaking words that they were to remember later.
"Jealousy--it drives one to the Devil--it is the Devil! It can drive one to black murder. Be careful, Richard, for God's sake, be careful!"
And then on that she had come out of the Privy Garden ahead of them, and on round the corner of the house without seeing them, walking swiftly, almost running, like a woman hag-ridden and pursued.
Mr. Satterthwaite thought again of Lady Cynthia's words. A dangerous woman. For the first time, he had a premonition of tragedy, coming swift and inexorable, not to be gainsaid60.
Yet that evening he felt ashamed of his fears. Everything seemed normal and pleasant. Mrs. Staverton, with her easy insouciance61, showed no sign of strain. Moira Scott was her charming, unaffected self. The two women appeared to be getting on very well. Richard Scott himself seemed to be in boisterous62 spirits.
The most worried looking person was stout Mrs. Unkerton. She confided63 at length in Mr. Satterthwaite.
"Think it silly or not, as you like, there's something giving me the creeps. And I'll tell you frankly64, I've sent for the glazier unbeknown to Ned"
"The glazier?"
"To put a new pane of glass In that window. It's all very well. Ned's proud of it--says it gives the house a tone I don't like it. I tell you flat. We'll have a nice plain modern pane of glass, with no nasty stories attached to it."
"You forget," said Mr. Satterthwaite, "or perhaps you don't know. The stain comes back."
"That's as it may be," said Mrs. Unkerton. "All I can say is if it does, it's against nature!"
Mr. Satterthwaite raised his eyebrows, but did not reply.
"And what if it does?" pursued Mrs. Unkerton defiantly65. "We're not so bankrupt, Ned and I, that we can't afford a new pane of glass every month--or every week if need be for the matter of that."
Mr. Satterthwaite did not meet the challenge. He had seen too many things crumple66 and fall before the power of money to believe that even a Cavalier ghost could put up a successful fight. Nevertheless, he was interested by Mrs. Unkerton's manifest uneasiness. Even she was not exempt67 from the tension in the atmosphere--only she attributed it to an attenuated68 ghost story, not to the clash of personalities69 amongst her guests.
Mr. Satterthwaite was fated to hear yet another scrap70 of conversation which threw light upon the situation. He was going up the wide staircase to bed, John Porter and Mrs. Staverton were sitting together in an alcove71 of the big hall. She was speaking with a faint irritation72 in her golden voice.
"I hadn't the least idea the Scotts were going to be here. I daresay, if I had known, I shouldn't have come, but I can assure you, my dear John, that now I am here, I'm not going to run away------"
Mr. Satterthwaite passed on up the staircase out of earshot. He thought to himself--"I wonder now--How much of that is true? Did she know? I wonder--what's going to come of it?"
He shook his head.
In the clear light of the morning he felt that he had perhaps been a little melodramatic in his imaginings of the evening before. A moment of strain--yes, certainly--inevitable under the circumstances--but nothing more. People adjusted themselves. His fancy that some great catastrophe73 was pending74 was nerves--pure nerves--or possibly liver.
Yes, that was it, liver. He was due at Carlsbad in another fortnight.
On his own account he proposed a little stroll that evening just as it was growing dusk. He suggested to Major Porter that they should go up to the clearing and see if Mrs. Unkerton had been as good as her word, and had a new pane of glass put in. To himself, he said--"Exercise, that's what I need. Exercise."
The two men walked slowly through the woods. Porter, as usual, was taciturn.
"I can't help feeling," said Mr. Satterthwaite loquaciously75, "that we were a little foolish in our imaginings yesterday. Expecting--er--trouble, you know. After all, people have to behave themselves--swallow their feelings and that sort of thing."
"Perhaps," said Porter. After a minute or two he added, "Civilised people."
"You mean------?"
"People who've lived outside civilisation76 a good deal sometimes go back. Revert77. Whatever you call it."
They emerged on to the grassy knoll. Mr. Satterthwaite was breathing rather fast. He never enjoyed going up hill.
He looked towards the window. The face was still there, more life-like than ever.
"Unkerton cut up rough, I expect," he said indifferently. "he's the sort of man who is willing to be proud of another family's ghost, and who isn't going to run the risk of having it driven away when he's paid spot cash for it."
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1
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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unwillingness
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| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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ruminating
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| v.沉思( ruminate的现在分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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eloquently
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| adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
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stunt
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| n.惊人表演，绝技，特技；vt.阻碍...发育，妨碍...生长 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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sardonically
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| adv.讽刺地，冷嘲地 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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clinches
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| n.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的名词复数 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议）v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的第三人称单数 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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stout
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| adj.强壮的，粗大的，结实的，勇猛的，矮胖的 | |
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jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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zigzag
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| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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42
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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43
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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44
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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45
glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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46
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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47
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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48
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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49
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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50
knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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51
descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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52
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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53
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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54
plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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55
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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56
accounting
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| n.会计，会计学，借贷对照表 | |
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57
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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58
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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59
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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60
gainsaid
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| v.否认，反驳( gainsay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
insouciance
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| n.漠不关心 | |
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62
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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63
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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64
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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65
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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66
crumple
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| v.把...弄皱，满是皱痕，压碎，崩溃 | |
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67
exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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68
attenuated
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| v.（使）变细( attenuate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）变薄；（使）变小；减弱 | |
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69
personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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70
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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71
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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72
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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73
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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74
pending
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| prep.直到，等待…期间；adj.待定的；迫近的 | |
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75
loquaciously
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76
civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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77
revert
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| v.恢复，复归，回到 | |
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78
repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cursory
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| adj.粗略的；草率的；匆促的 | |
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