福尔摩斯探案经典:《恐怖谷》第8章Part5

"Good Lord, mister! you are queer, if I must say it without offense. There's only one set of affairs that you'll hear of in these parts, and that's the affairs of the Scowrers."
"Why, I seem to have read of the Scowrers in Chicago. A gang of murderers, are they not?"
"Hush, on your life!" cried the miner, standing still in alarm, and gazing in amazement at his companion. "Man, you won't live long in these parts if you speak in the open street like that. Many a man has had the life beaten out of him for less."
"Well, I know nothing about them. It's only what I have read."
"And I'm not saying that you have not read the truth." The man looked nervously round him as he spoke, peering into the shadows as if he feared to see some lurking danger. "If killing is murder, then God knows there is murder and to spare. But don't you dare to breathe the name of Jack McGinty in connection with it, stranger; for every whisper goes back to him, and he is not one that is likely to let it pass. Now, that's the house you're after, that one standing back from the street. You'll find old Jacob Shafter that runs it as honest a man as lives in this township."
"I thank you," said McMurdo, and shaking hands with his new acquaintance he plodded, gripsack in hand, up the path which led to the dwelling house, at the door of which he gave a resounding knock.
It was opened at once by someone very different from what he had expected. It was a woman, young and singularly beautiful. She was of the German type, blonde and fair-haired, with the piquant contrast of a pair of beautiful dark eyes with which she surveyed the stranger with surprise and a pleasing embarrassment which brought a wave of colour over her pale face. Framed in the bright light of the open doorway, it seemed to McMurdo that he had never seen a more beautiful picture; the more attractive for its contrast with the sordid and gloomy surroundings. A lovely violet growing upon one of those black slag-heaps of the mines would not have seemed more surprising. So entranced was he that he stood staring without a word, and it was she who broke the silence.
"I thought it was father," said she with a pleasing little touch of a German accent. "Did you come to see him? He is down town. I expect him back every minute."
McMurdo continued to gaze at her in open admiration until her eyes dropped in confusion before this masterful visitor.
"No, miss," he said at last, "I'm in no hurry to see him. But your house was recommended to me for board. I thought it might suit me--and now I know it will."
"You are quick to make up your mind," said she with a smile.
"Anyone but a blind man could do as much," the other answered.
She laughed at the compliment. "Come right in, sir," she said. "I'm Miss Ettie Shafter, Mr. Shafter's daughter. My mother's dead, and I run the house. You can sit down by the stove in the front room until father comes along--Ah, here he is! So you can fix things with him right away."
A heavy, elderly man came plodding up the path. In a few words McMurdo explained his business. A man of the name of Murphy had given him the address in Chicago. He in turn had had it from someone else. Old Shafter was quite ready. The stranger made no bones about terms, agreed at once to every condition, and was apparently fairly flush of money. For seven dollars a week paid in advance he was to have board and lodging.
So it was that McMurdo, the self-confessed fugitive from justice, took up his abode under the roof of the Shafters, the first step which was to lead to so long and dark a train of events, ending in a far distant land.

“天哪，先生，我说句不怕你见怪的话，你可真是个怪人，在此地你只会听到一类事，这就是死酷党人的事。”
“为什么，我好象在芝加哥听说过死酷党人。是一伙杀人凶手，是不是？”
“嘘，别说了！千万别说了！"这个矿工惶惑不安地站在那里，惊讶地注视着他的同伴，大声说道，“伙计，要是你在大街上象这样乱讲话，那你在此地就活不了多久了。许多人因为比这还小的事都已经送命了。”
“好，对他们的事，我什么也不知道，这仅仅是我听说的。”
“不过，我不是说你听到的不是真事。"这个人一面说，一面忐忑不安地向四周打量了一番，紧紧盯着暗处，好象怕看到什么暗藏的危险一样，“如果是凶杀的话，那么天知道，凶杀案多着呢。不过你千万不要把这和杰克·麦金蒂的名字联在一起。因为每个小声议论都会传到他耳边，而麦金蒂又是不肯轻易放过的。好，那就是你要找的房子，就是街后的那一座。你会发现房主老雅各布·谢夫特是本镇的一个诚实人。”
“谢谢你，"麦克默多和他的新相识握手告别时说道。他提着旅行包，步履沉重地走在通往那所住宅的小路上，走到门前，用力敲门。
门马上打开了，可是开门的人却出乎他意料之外。她是一个年轻、美貌出众的德国型女子，玉肤冰肌，发色金黄，一双美丽乌黑的大眼睛，惊奇地打量着来客，白嫩的脸儿娇羞得泛出红晕。在门口明亮的街灯下，麦克默多好象觉得从来没有见过这样美丽的丰姿；她与周围污秽阴暗的环境形成鲜明的对照，更加动人。即使在这些黑煤渣堆上生出一支紫罗兰，也不会象这女子那样令人惊奇了。他神魂颠倒、瞠目结舌地站在那里，还是这女子打破了寂静。
“我还以为是父亲呢，"她娇声说道，带点德国口音，“你是来找他的吗？他到镇上去了。我正盼他回来呢。”
麦克默多仍在满心爱慕地痴望着她，在这矜持的来访者面前，那女子心慌意乱地低下了头。
“不是，小姐，"麦克默多终于开口说道，“我不急着找他。可是有人介绍我到你家来住。我想这对我很合适，现在我更知道这是很合适的了。”
“你也决定得太快了，"女子微笑着说。
“除非是瞎子，谁都会这样决定的。"麦克默多答道。
姑娘听到赞美的话语，莞尔一笑。“先生，请进来，"她说道，“我叫伊蒂·谢夫特小姐，是谢夫特先生的女儿。我母亲早已去世，我管理家务。你可以在前厅炉旁坐下，等我父亲回来。啊，他来了，有什么事你和他商量吧。”
一个老人从小路上慢慢走过来。麦克默多三言两语向他说明了来意。在芝加哥，一个叫墨菲的人介绍他到这里来。这个地址是另一个人告诉墨菲的。老谢夫特完全答应下来。麦克默多对房费毫不犹豫，立刻同意一切条件，显然他很有钱，预付了每周七美元的膳宿费。
于是这个公然自称逃犯的麦克默多，开始住在谢夫特家里。这最初的一步引出漫长而暗淡的无数风波，其收场则是在天涯的异国。