bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第197章
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Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet； and supposing I was to be picked
off now； you might wonder why I hadn’t done it； don’t you see？”
True。 Sir Leicester； avoiding with some trouble； those obtrusive
sounds； says； “True。” At this juncture； a considerable noise of
voices is heard in the hall。 Mr Bucket； after listening； goes to the
library…door； softly unlocks and opens it； and listens again。 Then
he draws in his head； and whispers； hurriedly； but composedly；
“Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet； this unfortunate family affair has
taken air； as I expected it might； the deceased Mr Tulkinghorn
being cut down so sudden。 The chance to hush it； is to let in these
people； now in a wrangle with your footmen。 Would you mind
sitting quiet—on the family account—while I reckon ’em up？ And
would you just throw in a nod； when I seem to ask you for it？”
Sir Leicester indistinctly answers； “Officer。 The best you can；
the best you can！” and Mr Bucket； with a nod and a sagacious
crook of the forefinger； slips down into the hall； where the voices
quickly die away。 He is not long in returning； a few paces ahead of
Mercury； and a brother deity also powdered and in peach…blossom
smalls； who bear between them a chair in which is an incapable
old man。 Another man and two women come behind。 Directing the
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pitching of the chair； in an affable and easy manner； Mr Bucket
dismisses the Mercuries； and locks the door again。 Sir Leicester
looks on at this invasion of the sacred precincts with an icy stare。
“Now； perhaps you may know me； ladies and gentlemen；” says
Mr Bucket； in a confidential voice。 “I am Inspector Bucket of the
Detective； I am； and this；” producing the tip of his convenient little
staff from his breast pocket； “is my authority。 Now； you wanted to
see Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet。 Well！ You do see him； and；
mind you； it ain’t every one as is admitted to that honour。 Your
name； old gentleman； is Smallweed； that’s what your name is； I
know it well。”
“Well； and you never heard any harm of it！” cried Mr
Smallweed； in a shrill loud voice。
“You don’t happen to know why they killed the pig； do you？”
retorts Mr Bucket； with a steadfast look； but without loss of
temper。
“No！”
“Why； they killed him；” says Mr Bucket； “on account of his
having so much cheek。 Don’t you get into the same position；
because it isn’t worthy of you。 You ain’t in the habit of conversing
with a deaf person； are you？”
“Yes；” snarls Mr Smallweed； “my wife’s deaf。”
“That accounts for your pitching your voice so high。 But as she
ain’t here； just pitch it an octave or two lower； will you； and I’ll not
only be obliged to you； but it’ll do you more credit；” says Mr
Bucket。 “This other gentleman is in the preaching line； I think？”
“Name of Chadband；” Mr Smallweed puts in； speaking
henceforth in a much lower key。
“Once had a friend and brother serjeant of the same name；”
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says Mr Bucket； offering his hand； “and consequently feel a liking
for it。 Mrs Chadband； no doubt？”
“And Mrs Snagsby；” Mr Smallweed introduces。
“Husband a law…stationer； and friend of my own；” says Mr
Bucket。 “Love him like a brother！—Now； what’s up？”
“Do you mean what business have we come upon？” Mr
Smallweed asks； a little dashed by the suddenness of this turn！
“Ah！ You know what I mean。 Let us hear what it’s all about in
presence of Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet。 Come！”
Mr Smallweed； beckoning Mr Chadband； takes a moment’s
counsel with him in a whisper。 Mr Chadband； expressing a
considerable amount of oil from the pores of his forehead and the
palms of his hands； says aloud； “Yes。 You first！” and retires to his
former place。
“I was the client and friend of Mr Tulkinghorn；” pipes
Grandfather Smallweed； then； “I did business with him。 I was
useful to him； and he was useful to me。 Krook； dead and gone； was
my brother…in…law。 He was own brother to a brimstone magpie—
leastways Mrs Smallweed。 I come into Krook’s property。 I
examined all his papers and all his effects。 They was all dug out
under my eyes。 There was a bundle of letters belonging to a dead…
and…gone lodger； as was hid away at the back of a shelf in the side
of Lady Jane’s bed—his cat’s bed。 He hid all manner of things
away； everywheres。 Mr Tulkinghorn wanted ’em and got ’em； but I
looked ’em over first。 I’m a man of business； and I took a squint at
’em。 They was letters from the lodger’s sweetheart； and she signed
Honoria。 Dear me； that’s not a common name； Honoria； is it？
There’s no lady in this house that signs Honoria； is there？ O no； I
don’t think so！ O no； I don’t think so！ And not in the same hand；
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perhaps？ O no； I don’t think so！”
Here Mr Smallweed； seized with a fit of coughing in the midst
of his triumph； breaks off to ejaculate； “O； dear me！ O Lord！ I’m
shaken all to pieces！”
“Now； when you’re ready；” says Mr Bucket； after awaiting his
recovery； “to come to anything that concerns Sir Leicester
Dedlock； Baronet； here the gentleman sits； you know。”
“Haven’t I come to it； Mr Bucket？” cries Grandfather
Smallweed。 “Isn’t the gentleman concerned yet？ Not with Captain
Hawdon and his ever affectionate Honoria； and their child into the
bargain？ Come； then； I want to know where those letters are。 That
concerns me； if it don’t concern Sir Leicester Dedlock。 I will know
where they are。 I won’t have ’em disappear so quietly。 I handed
’em over to my friend and solicitor； Mr Tulkinghorn； not to
anybody else。”
“Why he paid you for them； you know； and handsome； too；”
says Mr Bucket。
“I don’t care for that。 I want to know who’s got ’em。 And I tell
you what we want—what we all here want； Mr Bucket。 We want
more painstaking and search…making into this murder。 We know
where the interest and the motive was； and you have not done
enough。 If George the vagabond dragoon had any hand in it； he
was only an accomplice； and was set on。 You know what I mean as
well as any man。”
“Now； I tell you what；” says Mr Bucket； instantaneously
altering his manner； coming close to him； and communicating an
extraordinary fascination to the forefinger； “I am damned if I am
going to have my case spoilt； or interfered with； or anticipated by
so much as half a second of time； by any human being in creation。
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You want more painstaking and search…making？ You do？ Do you
see this hand； and do you think that I don’t know the right time to
stretch it out； and put it on the arm that fired that shot？
Such is the dread power of the man； and so terribly evident it is
that he makes no idle boast； that Mr Smallweed begins to
apologise。 Mr Bucket； dismissing his sudden anger； checks him。
“The advice I give you is； don’t you trouble your head about the
murder。 That’s my affair。 You keep half an eye on the newspapers；
and I shouldn’t wonder if you was to read something about it
before long； if you look sharp。 I know my business； and that’s all
I’ve got to say to you on that subject。 Now about those letters。 You
want to know who’s got ’em。 I don’t mind telling you。 I have got
’em。 Is that the packet？”
Mr Smallweed looks； with greedy eyes； at the little bundle Mr
Bucket produces from a mysterious part of his coat； and identifies
it as the same。
“What have you got to say next？” asks Mr Bucket。 “Now； don’t
open your mouth too wide； because you don’t look handsome
when you do it。”
“I want five hundred pound。”
“No； you don’t； you mean fifty；” says Mr Bucket； humorously。
It appears； however； that Mr Smallweed means five hundred。
“That is； I am deputed by Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet； to
consider （without admitting or promising anything） this bit of
business；” says Mr Bucket； Sir Leicester mechanically bows his
head； “and you ask me to consider a proposal of five hundred
pounds。 Why； it’s an unreasonable proposal！ Two fifty would be
bad enough； but better than that。 Hadn’t you better say two fifty？”
Mr Smallweed is quite clear that he had better not。
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“Then；” says Mr Bucket； “let’s hear Mr Chadband。 Lord！ Many
a time I’ve heard my old fellow…serjeant of that name； and a
moderate man he was in all respects； as ever I come across！”
Thus invited； Mr Chadband steps forth； and； after a little sleek
smiling； and a little oil…grinding with the palms of his hands；
delivers himself as follows：
“My friends； we are now—Rachael my wife； and I—in the
mansions of the rich and great。 Why are we now in the mansions
of the rich and great； my friends？ Is it
