the great god pan(潘恩大帝)-第6部分
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fireside。 There was something about Herbert which shocked him
inexpressibly； not his poor rags nor the marks which poverty had set upon
his face； but rather an indefinite terror which hung about him like a mist。
He had acknowledged that he himself was not devoid of blame； the
woman； he had avowed； had corrupted him body and soul； and Villiers felt
that this man； once his friend； had been an actor in scenes evil beyond the
power of words。 His story needed no confirmation： he himself was the
embodied proof of it。 Villiers mused curiously over the story he had
heard； and wondered whether he had heard both the first and the last of it。
〃No；〃 he thought； 〃certainly not the last； probably only the beginning。 A
case like this is like a nest of Chinese boxes； you open one after the other
and find a quainter workmanship in every box。 Most likely poor Herbert
is merely one of the outside boxes； there are stranger ones to follow。〃
Villiers could not take his mind away from Herbert and his story；
which seemed to grow wilder as the night wore on。 The fire seemed to
burn low； and the chilly air of the morning crept into the room； Villiers got
up with a glance over his shoulder； and； shivering slightly； went to bed。
A few days later he saw at his club a gentleman of his acquaintance；
named Austin； who was famous for his intimate knowledge of London life；
both in its tenebrous and luminous phases。 Villiers； still full of his
encounter in Soho and its consequences； thought Austin might possibly be
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able to shed some light on Herbert's history； and so after some casual talk
he suddenly put the question：
〃Do you happen to know anything of a man named Herbert Charles
Herbert？〃
Austin turned round sharply and stared at Villiers with some
astonishment。
〃Charles Herbert？ Weren't you in town three years ago？ No； then you
have not heard of the Paul Street case？ It caused a good deal of sensation
at the time。〃
〃What was the case？〃
〃Well； a gentleman； a man of very good position； was found dead；
stark dead； in the area of a certain house in Paul Street； off Tottenham
Court Road。 Of course the police did not make the discovery； if you
happen to be sitting up all night and have a light in your window； the
constable will ring the bell； but if you happen to be lying dead in
somebody's area； you will be left alone。 In this instance； as in many
others； the alarm was raised by some kind of vagabond； I don't mean a
common tramp； or a public…house loafer； but a gentleman； whose business
or pleasure； or both； made him a spectator of the London streets at five
o'clock in the morning。 This individual was； as he said； 'going home；'it
did not appear whence or whither； and had occasion to pass through Paul
Street between four and five a。m。 Something or other caught his eye at
Number 20； he said； absurdly enough； that the house had the most
unpleasant physiognomy he had ever observed； but； at any rate； he glanced
down the area and was a good deal astonished to see a man lying on the
stones； his limbs all huddled together； and his face turned up。 Our
gentleman thought his face looked peculiarly ghastly； and so set off at a
run in search of the nearest policeman。 The constable was at first
inclined to treat the matter lightly； suspecting common drunkenness；
however； he came； and after looking at the man's face； changed his tone；
quickly enough。 The early bird； who had picked up this fine worm； was
sent off for a doctor； and the policeman rang and knocked at the door till a
slatternly servant girl came down looking more than half asleep。 The
constable pointed out the contents of the area to the maid； who screamed
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loudly enough to wake up the street； but she knew nothing of the man； had
never seen him at the house； and so forth。 Meanwhile； the original
discoverer had come back with a medical man； and the next thing was to
get into the area。 The gate was open； so the whole quartet stumped down
the steps。 The doctor hardly needed a moment's examination； he said the
poor fellow had been dead for several hours； and it was then the case
began to get interesting。 The dead man had not been robbed； and in one
of his pockets were papers identifying him aswell； as a man of good
family and means； a favourite in society； and nobody's enemy； as far as
could be known。 I don't give his name； Villiers； because it has nothing to
do with the story； and because it's no good raking up these affairs about
the dead when there are no relations living。 The next curious point was
that the medical men couldn't agree as to how he met his death。 There
were some slight bruises on his shoulders； but they were so slight that it
looked as if he had been pushed roughly out of the kitchen door； and not
thrown over the railings from the street or even dragged down the steps。
But there were positively no other marks of violence about him； certainly
none that would account for his death； and when they came to the autopsy
there wasn't a trace of poison of any kind。 Of course the police wanted to
know all about the people at Number 20； and here again； so I have heard
from private sources； one or two other very curious points came out。 It
appears that the occupants of the house were a Mr。 and Mrs。 Charles
Herbert； he was said to be a landed proprietor； though it struck most
people that Paul Street was not exactly the place to look for country gentry。
As for Mrs。 Herbert； nobody seemed to know who or what she was； and；
between ourselves； I fancy the divers after her history found themselves in
rather strange waters。 Of course they both denied knowing anything
about the deceased； and in default of any evidence against them they were
discharged。 But some very odd things came out about them。 Though it
was between five and six in the morning when the dead man was removed；
a large crowd had collected； and several of the neighbours ran to see what
was going on。 They were pretty free with their comments； by all
accounts； and from these it appeared that Number 20 was in very bad
odour in Paul Street。 The detectives tried to trace down these rumours to
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some solid foundation of fact； but could not get hold of anything。 People
shook their heads and raised their eyebrows and thought the Herberts
rather 'queer；' 'would rather not be seen going into their house；'and so on；
but there was nothing tangible。 The authorities were morally certain the
man met his death in some way or another in the house and was thrown
out by the kitchen door； but they couldn't prove it； and the absence of any
indications of violence or poisoning left them helpless。 An odd case；
wasn't it？ But curiously enough； there's something more that I haven't
told you。 I happened to know one of the doctors who was consulted as to
the cause of death； and some time after the inquest I met him； and asked
him about it。 'Do you really mean to tell me；' I said； 'that you were
baffled by the case； that you actually don't know what the man died of？'
'Pardon me；' he replied； 'I know perfectly well what caused death。 Blank
died of fright； of sheer； awful terror； I never saw features so hideously
contorted in the entire course of my practice； and I have seen the faces of a
whole host of dead。' The doctor was usually a cool customer enough；
and a certain vehemence in his manner struck me； but I couldn't get
anything more out of him。 I suppose the Treasury didn't see their way to
prosecuting the Herberts for frightening a man to death； at any rate；
nothing was done； and the case dropped out of men's minds。 Do you
happen to know anything of Herbert？〃
〃Well；〃 replied Villiers； 〃he was an old college friend of mine。〃
〃You don't say so？ Have you ever seen his wife？〃
〃No； I haven't。 I have lost sight of Herbert for many years。〃
〃It's queer； isn't it； parting with a man at the college gate or at
Paddington； seeing nothing of him for years； and then finding him pop up
his head in such an odd place。 But I should like to have seen Mrs。
Herbert； people said extraordinary things about her。〃
〃What sort of things？〃
〃Well； I hardly know how to tell you。 Everyone who saw her at the
police
