bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第39章
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Bleak House 196
“God save us！” exclaims Mr Tulkinghorn。 “He is dead！”
Krook drops the heavy hand he has taken up； so suddenly that
the arm swings over the bedside。
They look at one another for a moment。
“Send for some doctor！ Call for Miss Flite up the stairs； sir。
Here’s poison by the bed！ Call out for Flite； will you？” says Krook；
with his lean hands spread out above the body like a vampire’s
wings。
Mr Tulkinghorn hurries to the landing； and calls “Miss Flite！
Flite！ Make haste； here； whoever you are！ Flite！” Krook follows
him with his eyes； and； while he is calling； finds opportunity to
steal to the old portmanteau and steal back again。
“Run； Flite； run！ The nearest doctor！ Run！” So Mr Krook
addresses a crazy little woman； who is his female lodger： who
appears and vanishes in a breath： who soon returns； accompanied
by a testy medical man； brought from his dinner—with a broad
snuffy upper lip； and a broad Scotch tongue。
“Ey！ Bless the hearts o’ ye；” says the medical man； looking up
at them after a moment’s examination。 “He’s just as dead as
Phairy！”
Mr Tulkinghorn （standing by the old portmanteau） inquires if
he has been dead any time？
“Any time； sir？” says the medical gentleman。 “It’s probable he
wull have been dead aboot three hours。”
“About that time； I should say；” observes a dark young man； on
the other side of the bed。
“Air you in the maydickle prayfession yourself； sir？” inquires
the first。
The dark young man says yes。
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“Then I’ll just tak’ my depairture；” replies the other； “for I’m
nae gude here！” With which remark； he finishes his brief
attendance； and returns to finish his dinner。
The dark young surgeon passes the candle across and across
the face； and carefully examines the Law…writer； who has
established his pretensions to his name by becoming indeed No
one。
“I knew this person by sight； very well；” says he。 “He has
purchased opium of me； for the last year and a half。 Was anybody
present related to him？” glancing round upon the three
bystanders。
“I was his landlord；” grimly answers Krook； taking the candle
from the surgeon’s outstretched hand。 “He told me once； I was the
nearest relation he had。”
“He has died；” says the surgeon； “of an overdose of opium；
there is no doubt。 The room is strongly flavoured with it。 There is
enough here now；” taking an old teapot from Mr Krook； “to kill a
dozen people。”
“Do you think he did it on purpose？” asks Krook。
“Took the overdose？”
“Yes！” Krook almost smacks his lips with the unction of a
horrible interest。
“I can’t say。 I should think it unlikely； as he has been in the
habit of taking so much。 But nobody can tell。 He was very poor； I
suppose？”
“I suppose he was。 His room—don’t look rich；” says Krook； who
might have changed eyes with his cat； as he casts his sharp glance
around。 “But I have never been in it since he had it； and he was
too close to name the circumstances to me。”
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“Did he owe you any rent？”
“Six weeks。”
“He will never pay it！” says the young man； resuming his
examination。 “It is beyond a doubt that he is indeed as dead as
Pharaoh； and to judge from his appearance and condition； I
should think it a happy release。 Yet he must have been a good
figure when a youth； and I dare say good…looking。” He says this；
not unfeelingly； while sitting on the bedstead’s edge； with his face
towards that other face； and his hand upon the region of the heart。
“I recollect once thinking there was something in his manner；
uncouth as it was； that denoted a fall in life。 Was that so？ he
continues； looking round。
Krook replies； “You might as well ask me to describe the ladies
whose heads of hair I have got in sacks downstairs。 Than that he
was my lodger for a year and a half； and lived—or didn’t live—by
law…writing； I know no more of him。”
During this dialogue； Mr Tulkinghorn has stood aloof by the old
portmanteau； with his hands behind him； equally removed； to all
appearance； from all three kinds of interest exhibited near the
bed—from the young surgeon’s professional interest in death；
noticeable as being quite apart from his remarks on the deceased
as an individual； from the old man’s unction； and the little crazy
woman’s awe。 His imperturbable face has been as inexpressive as
his rusty clothes。 One could not even say he has been thinking all
this while。 He has shown neither patience nor impatience； nor
attention nor abstraction。 He has shown nothing but his shell。 As
easily might the tone of a delicate musical instrument be inferred
from its case； as the tone of Mr Tulkinghorn from his case。
He now interposes； addressing the young surgeon； in his
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unmoved professional way。
“I looked in here；” he observes； “just before you； with the
intention of giving this deceased man； whom I never saw alive；
some employment at his trade of copying。 I had heard of him from
my stationer—Snagsby of Cook’s Court。 Since no one here knows
anything about him； it might be as well to send for Snagsby。 Ah！”
to the little crazy woman； who has often seen him in Court； and
whom he has often seen； and who proposes； in frightened dumb…
show； to go for the law stationer。 “Suppose you do！”
While she is gone； the surgeon abandons his hopeless
investigation； and covers its subject with the patchwork
counterpane。 Mr Krook and he interchange a word or two。 Mr
Tulkinghorn says nothing； but stands； ever； near the old…
portmanteau。
Mr Snabsby arrives hastily； in his grey coat and his black
sleeves。 “Dear me； dear me；” he says； “and it has come to this； has
it！ Bless my soul！”
“Can you give the person of the house any information about
this unfortunate creature； Snagsby？” inquires Mr Tulkinghorn。
“He was in arrears with his rent； it seems。 And he must be buried；
you know。”
“Well； sir；” says Mr Snagsby； coughing his apologetic cough
behind his hand； “I really don’t know what advice I could offer；
except sending for the beadle。”
“I don’t speak of advice；” returns Mr Tulkinghorn。 “I could
advise—”
（“No one better； sir； I am sure；” says Mr Snagsby； with his
deferential cough。）
“I speak of affording some clue to his connections； or to where
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he came from； or to anything concerning him。”
“I assure you； sir；” says Mr Snagsby； after prefacing his reply
with his cough of general propitiation； “that I no more know
where he came from； than I know—”
“Where he has gone to； perhaps；” suggests the surgeon； to help
him out。
A pause。 Mr Tulkinghorn looking at the law stationer。 Mr
Krook； with his mouth open； looking for somebody to speak next。
“As to his connections； sir；” says Mr Snagsby； “if a person was
to say to me； ‘Snagsby； here’s twenty thousand pound down； ready
for you in the Bank of England； if you’ll only name one of ’em；’ I
couldn’t do it； sir！ About a year and a half ago—to the best of my
belief at the time when he first came to lodge at the present Rag
and Bottle Shop—”
“That was the time！” says Krook； with a nod。
“About a year and a half ago；” says Mr Snagsby； strengthened；
“he came into our place one morning after breakfast； and； finding
my little woman （which I name Mrs Snagsby when I use that
appellation） in our shop； produced a specimen of his handwriting；
and gave her to understand that he was in wants of copying work
to do； and was—not to put too fine a point upon it—” a favourite
apology for plain…speaking with Mr Snagsby； which he always
offers with a sort of argumentative frankness； “hard up！ My little
woman is not in general partial to strangers； particular—not to put
too fine a point upon it—when they want anything。 But she was
rather took by something about this person； whether by his being
unshaved； or by his hair being in want of attention； or by what
other ladies’ reasons； I leave you to judge； and she accepted of the
specimen； and likewise of the address。 My little woman has’t a
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good ear for names；” proceeds Mr Snagsby； after consulting his
cough of consideration behind his hand； “and she considered
Nemo equally the same as Nimrod。 In consequence of which； she
got into a habit of saying to me at meals； ‘Mr Snagsby； you haven’t
found Nimrod any work yet？’ or ‘Mr Snagsby； why didn’t you give
that eight…and…th
