the lodger- 第26部分

〃By　no　means　…　I　would　prefer　not。　　I　certainly　do　not　want　a　fire　there。　　I　dislike　an　open　fire；　Mrs。　Bunting。　　I　thought　I　had　told　you　as　much。〃

Mr。　Sleuth　frowned。　　He　stood　there；　a　strange…looking　figure；　his　candle　still　alight；　just　inside　the　kitchen　door。

〃I　shan't　be　very　long；　sir。　　Just　about　a　quarter　of　an　hour。　　You　could　come　down　then。　　I'll　have　everything　quite　tidy　for　you。　　Is　there　anything　I　can　do　to　help　you？〃

〃I　do　not　require　the　use　of　your　kitchen　yet　…　thank　you　all　the　same；　Mrs。　Bunting。　　I　shall　come　down　later　…　altogether　later　…　after　you　and　your　husband　have　gone　to　bed。　　But　I　should　be　much　obliged　if　you　would　see　that　the　gas　people　come　to…morrow　and　put　my　stove　in　order。　　It　might　be　done　while　I　am　out。　　That　the　shilling…in…the…slot　machine　should　go　wrong　is　very　unpleasant。　It　has　upset　me　greatly。〃

〃Perhaps　Bunting　could　put　it　right　for　you；　sir。　　For　the　matter　of　that；　I　could　ask　him　to　go　up　now。

〃No；　no；　I　don't　want　anything　of　that　sort　done　to…night。　　Besides；　he　couldn't　put　it　right。　　I　am　something　of　an　expert；　Mrs。　Bunting；　and　I　have　done　all　I　could。　　The　cause　of　the　trouble　is　quite　simple。　　The　machine　is　choked　up　with　shillings；　a　very　foolish　plan；　so　I　always　felt　it　to　be。〃

Mr。　Sleuth　spoke　pettishly；　with　far　more　heat　than　he　was　wont　to　speak；　but　Mrs。　Bunting　sympathised　with　him　in　this　matter。　　She　had　always　suspected　that　those　slot　machines　were　as　dishonest　as　if　they　were　human。　　It　was　dreadful；　the　way　they　swallowed　up　the　shillings！　　She　had　had　one　once；　so　she　knew。

And　as　if　he　were　divining　her　thoughts；　Mr。　Sleuth　walked　forward　and　stared　at　the　stove。　　〃Then　you　haven't　got　a　slot　machine？〃　he　said　wonderingly。　　〃I'm　very　glad　of　that；　for　I　expect　my　experiment　will　take　some　time。　　But；　of　course；　I　shall　pay　you　something　for　the　use　of　the　stove；　Mrs。　Bunting。〃

〃Oh；　no；　sir；　I　wouldn't　think　of　charging　you　anything　for　that。　We　don't　use　our　stove　very　much；　you　know；　sir。　　I'm　never　in　the　kitchen　a　minute　longer　than　I　can　help　this　cold　weather。〃

Mrs。　Bunting　was　beginning　to　feel　better。　　When　she　was　actually　in　Mr。　Sleuth's　presence　her　morbid　fears　would　be　lulled；　perhaps　because　his　manner　almost　invariably　was　gentle　and　very　quiet。　But　still　there　came　over　her　an　eerie　feeling；　as；　with　him　preceding　her；　they　made　a　slow　progress　to　the　ground　floor。

Once　there；　the　lodger　courteously　bade　his　landlady　good…night；　and　proceeded　upstairs　to　his　own　apartments。

Mrs。　Bunting　returned　to　the　kitchen。　　Again　she　lighted　the　stove；　but　she　felt　unnerved；　afraid　of　she　knew　not　what。　　As　she　was　cooking　the　cheese；　she　tried　to　concentrate　her　mind　on　what　she　was　doing；　and　on　the　whole　she　succeeded。　　But　another　part　of　her　mind　seemed　to　be　working　independently；　asking　her　insistent　questions。

The　place　seemed　to　her　alive　with　alien　presences；　and　once　she　caught　herself　listening　…　which　was　absurd；　for；　of　course；　she　could　not　hope　to　hear　what　Mr。　Sleuth　was　doing　two；　if　not　three；　flights　upstairs。　　She　wondered　in　what　the　lodger's　experiments　consisted。　　It　was　odd　that　she　had　never　been　able　to　discover　what　it　was　he　really　did　with　that　big　gas…stove。　　All　she　knew　was　that　he　used　a　very　high　degree　of　heat。


CHAPTER　XV

The　Buntings　went　to　bed　early　that　night。　　But　Mrs。　Bunting　made　up　her　mind　to　keep　awake。　　She　was　set　upon　knowing　at　what　hour　of　the　night　the　lodger　would　come　down　into　her　kitchen　to　carry　through　his　experiment；　and；　above　all；　she　was　anxious　to　know　how　long　he　would　stay　there。

But　she　had　had　a　long　and　a　very　anxious　day；　and　presently　she　fell　asleep。

The　church　clock　hard　by　struck　two；　and；　suddenly　Mrs。　Bunting　awoke。　　She　felt　put　out　sharply　annoyed　with　herself。　　How　could　she　have　dropped　off　like　that？　　Mr。　Sleuth　must　have　been　down　and　up　again　hours　ago！

Then；　gradually；　she　became　aware　that　there　was　a　faint　acrid　odour　in　the　room。　　Elusive；　intangible；　it　yet　seemed　to　encompass　her　and　the　snoring　man　by　her　side；　almost　as　a　vapour　might　have　done。

Mrs。　Bunting　sat　up　in　bed　and　sniffed；　and　then；　in　spite　of　the　cold；　she　quietly　crept　out　of　her　nice；　warm　bedclothes；　and　crawled　along　to　the　bottom　of　the　bed。　　When　there；　Mr。　Sleuth's　landlady　did　a　very　curious　thing；　she　leaned　over　the　brass　rail　and　put　her　face　close　to　the　hinge　of　the　door　giving　into　the　hall。　　Yes；　it　was　from　here　that　this　strange；　horrible　odor　was　coming；　the　smell　must　be　very　strong　in　the　passage。

As；　shivering；　she　crept　back　under　the　bedclothes；　she　longed　to　give　her　sleeping　husband　a　good　shake；　and　in　fancy　she　heard　herself　saying；　〃Bunting；　get　up！　　There's　something　strange　and　dreadful　going　on　downstairs　which　we　ought　to　know　about。〃

But　as　she　lay　there；　by　her　husband's　side；　listening　with　painful　intentness　for　the　slightest　sound；　she　knew　very　well　that　she　would　do　nothing　of　the　sort。

What　if　the　lodger　did　make　a　certain　amount　of　mess　　…　a　certain　amount　of　smell　…　in　her　nice　clean　kitchen？　　Was　he　not　…　was　he　not　an　almost　perfect　lodger？　　If　they　did　anything　to　upset　him；　where　could　they　ever　hope　to　get　another　like　him？

Three　o'clock　struck　before　Mrs。　Bunting　heard　slow；　heavy　steps　creaking　up　the　kitchen　stairs。　　But　Mr。　Sleuth　did　not　go　straight　up　to　his　own　quarters；　as　she　had　expected　him　to　do。　　Instead；　he　went　to　the　front　door；　and；　opening　it；　put　on　the　chain。　　Then　he　came　past　her　door；　and　she　thought　…　but　could　not　be　sure　…　　that　he　sat　down　on　the　stairs。

At　the　end　of　ten　minutes　or　so　she　heard　him　go　down　the　passage　again。　　Very　softly　he　closed　the　front　door。　　By　then　she　had　divined　why　the　lodger　had　behaved　in　this　funny　fashion。　　He　wanted　to　get　the　strong；　acrid　smell　of　burning　…　was　it　of　burning　wool？　　…　out　of　the　house。

But　Mrs。　Bunting；　lying　there　in　the　darkness；　listening　to　the　lodger　creeping　upstairs；　felt　as　if　she　herself　would　never　get　rid　of　the　horrible　odour。

Mrs。　Bunting　felt　herself　to　be　all　smell。

At　last　the　unhappy　woman　fell　into　a　deep；　troubled　sleep；　and　then　she　dreamed　a　most　terrible　and　unnatural　dream。　　Hoarse　voices　seemed　to　be　shouting　in　her　ear：　〃The　Avenger　close　here！　The　Avenger　close　here！〃　〃'Orrible　murder　off　the　Edgware　Road！〃　〃The　Avenger　at　his　work　again〃'

And　even　in　her　dream　Mrs。　Bunting　felt　angered　…　　angered　and　impatient。　　She　knew　so　well　why　she　was　being　disturbed　by　this　horrid　nightmare！　　It　was　because　of　Bunting　…　Bunting；　who　could　think　and　talk　of　nothing　else　than　those　frightful　murders；　in　which　only　morbid　and　vulgar…minded　people　took　any　interest。

Why；　even　now；　in　her　dream；　she　could　hear　her　husband　speaking　to　her　about　it：

〃Ellen　〃　…　so　she　heard　Bunting　murmur　in　her　ear　…　〃Ellen；　my　dear；　I'm　just　going　to　get　up　to　get　a　paper。　　It's　after　seven　o'clock。〃

The　shouting　…　nay；　worse；　the　sound　of　tramping；　hurrying　feet　smote　on　her　shrinking　ears。　　Pushing　back　her　hair　off　her　forehead　with　both　hands；　she　sat　up　and　listened。

It　had　been　no　nightmare；　then；　but　something　infinitely　worse　…　　reality。

Why　couldn't　Bunting　have　lain　quiet　abed　for　awhile　longer；　and　let　his　poor　wife　go　on　dreaming？　　The　most　awful　dream　would　have　been　easier　to　bear　than　this　awakening。

She　heard　her　husband　go　to　the　front　door；　and；　as　he　bought　the　paper；　exchange　a　few　excited　words　with　the　newspaper…seller。　　Then　he　came　back。　　There　was　a　pause；　and　she　heard　him　lighting　the　gas…ring　in　the　sitting…room。

Bunting　always　made　his　wife　a　cup　of　tea　in　the　morning。　　He　had　promised　to　do　this　when　they　first　married；　and　he　had　never　yet　broken　his　word。　　It　was　a　very　little　thing　and　a　very　usual　thing；　no　doubt；　for　a　kind　husband　to　do；　but　this　morning　the　knowledge　that　he　was　doing　it　brought　tears　to　Mrs。　Bunting's　pale　blue　eyes。　This　morning　he　seemed　to　be　rather　longer　than　usual　over　the　job。

When；　at　last；　he　came　in　with　the　little　tray；　Bunting　found　his　wife　lying　with　her　face　to　the　wall。

〃Here's　your　tea；　Ellen；〃　he　said；　and　there　was　a　thrill　of　eager；　nay　happy；　excitement　in　his　voice。

She　turned　herself　round　and　sat　up。　　〃Well？〃　she　asked。　　〃Well？　Why　don't　you　tell　me　about　it？〃

〃I　thought　you　was　asleep；〃　he　stammered　out。　　〃I　thought；　Ellen；　you　never　heard　nothing。〃

〃How　could　I　have　slept　through　all　that　din？　　Of　course　I　heard。　Why　don't　you　tell　me？〃

〃I've　hardly　had　time　to　glance　at　the　paper　myself；〃　he　said　slowly。

〃You　was　reading　it　just　now；〃　she　said　severely；　〃for　I　heard　the　rustling。　　You　begun　reading　it　before　you　lit　the　gas…ring。　　Don't　tell　me！　　What　was　that　they　was　shouting　about　the　Edgware　Road？〃

〃Well；〃　said　Bunting；　〃as　you　do　know；　I　may　as　well　tell　you。　　The　Avenger's　moving　West　…　that's　what　he's　doing。　　Last　time　'twas　King's　Cross　…　now　'tis　the　Edgware　Road。　　I　said　he'd　come　our　way；　and　he　has　come　our　way！〃

〃You　just　go　and　get　me　that　paper；〃　she　commanded。　　〃I　wants　to　see　for　myself。〃

Bunting　went　into　the　next　room；　then　he　came　back　and　handed　her　silently　the　odd…looking；　thin　little　sheet。

〃Why；　whatever's　this？〃　she　asked。　　〃This　ain't　our