The Thirteenth Tale- 第20部分

from　the　library　she　passed　to　the　music　room；　where　she　found　the　same　disorder　she　had　seen　elsewhere。　the　furniture　was　arranged　bizarrely；　as　though　to　facilitate　the　playing　of　hide…and…seek。　a　chaise　lounge　was　turned　to　face　a　wall；　a　chair　was　half　hidden　by　a　chest　that　had　been　dragged　from　its　place　under　the　window—there　was　a　broad　sweep　of　carpet　behind　it　where　the　dust　was　less　thick　and　the　green　color　showed　through　more　distinctly。　on　the　piano；　a　vase　contained　blackened；　brittle　stems；　and　around　it　a　neat　circle　of　papery　petals　like　ashes。　mrs。　maudsley　reached　her　hand　toward　one　and　picked　it　up；　it　crumbled；　leaving　a　nasty　yellow…gray　stain　between　her　white…gloved　fingers。

mrs。　maudsley　seemed　to　slump　down　onto　the　piano　stool。

the　doctor’s　wife　wasn’t　a　bad　woman。　she　was　sufficiently　convinced　of　her　own　importance　to　believe　that　god　actually　did　watch　everything　she　did　and　listen　to　everything　she　said；　and　she　was　too　taken　up　with　rooting　out　the　pride　she　was　prone　to　feeling　in　her　own　holiness　to　notice　any　other　failings　she　might　have　had。　she　was　a　do…gooder；　which　means　that　all　the　ill　she　did；　she　did　without　realizing　it。

what　was　going　on　in　her　mind　as　she　sat　there　on　the　piano　stool；　staring　into　space？　these　were　people　who　couldn’t　keep　their　flower　vases　topped　up。　no　wonder　their　children　were　misbehaving！　the　extent　of　the　problem　seemed　suddenly　to　have　been　revealed　to　her　through　the　dead　flowers；　and　it　was　in　a　distracted；　absent　fashion　that　she　pulled　off　her　gloves　and　spread　her　fingers　on　the　black　and　gray　keys　of　the　piano。

the　sound　that　resounded　in　the　room　was　the　harshest；　most　un…pianolike　noise　imaginable。　this　was　in　part　because　the　piano　had　been　neglected；　unplayed　and　untuned；　for　many　years。　it　was　also　because　the　vibration　of　the　instrument’s　strings　was　instantly　acpanied　by　another　noise；　equally　unmelodic。　it　was　a　kind　of　a　howling　hiss；　an　irritated；　wild　sort　of　a　screech；　like　that　of　a　cat　whose　tail　has　got　under　your　feet。

mrs。　maudsley　was　shaken　entirely　out　of　her　reverie　by　it。　on　hearing　the　yowl；　she　stared　at　the　piano　in　disbelief　and　stood　up；　her　hands　to　her　cheeks。　in　her　bewilderment　she　had　only　the　barest　moment　to　register　that　she　was　not　alone。

there；　rising　from　the　chaise　lounge；　a　slight　figure　in　white—

　％％。



Poor　Mrs。　Maudsley。

…。网
she　had　not　the　time　to　appreciate　that　the　white…robed　figure　was　brandishing　a　violin；　and　that　the　violin　was　descending　very　quickly　and　with　great　force　toward　her　own　head。　before　she　could　take　in　any　of　this；　the　violin　made　contact　with　her　skull；　blackness　overwhelmed　her　and　she　fell；　unconscious；　to　the　floor。

with　her　arms　sprawled　any　old　how；　and　her　neat　white　handkerchief　still　tucked　inside　her　watch　strap；　she　looked　as　though　there　wasn’t　a　drop　of　life　left　in　her。　little　puffs　of　dust　that　had　e　up　from　the　carpet　when　she　landed　fell　gently　back　down。

there　she　lay　for　a　good　half　hour；　until　the　missus；　back　from　the　farm　where　she　had　been　to　collect　eggs；　happened　to　glance　in　at　the　door　and　see　a　dark　shape　where　she　hadn’t　seen　a　dark　shape　before。

there　was　no　sign　of　a　figure　in　white。

as　i　transcribed　from　memory；　miss　winter’s　voice　seemed　to　fill　my　room　with　the　same　degree　of　reality　with　which　it　had　filled　the　library。　she　had　a　way　of　speaking　that　engraved　itself　on　my　memory　and　was　as　reliable　as　a　phonograph　recording。　but　at　this　point；　where　she　said；　“there　was　no　sign　of　a　figure　in　white；”　she　had　paused；　and　so　now　i　paused；　pencil　hovering　above　the　page；　as　i　considered　what　had　happened　next。

i　had　been　engrossed　in　the　story；　and　so　it　took　me　a　moment　to　re…focus　my　eye　from　the　prone　figure　of　the　doctor’s　wife　in　the　story　to　the　storyteller　herself。　when　i　did　i　was　dismayed。　miss　winter’s　normal　pallor　had　given　way　to　an　ugly　yellow…gray　tint；　and　her　frame；　always　rigid　it　must　be　said；　seemed　at　present　to　be　girding　itself　against　some　invisible　assault。　there　was　a　trembling　around　her　mouth；　and　i　guessed　that　she　was　on　the　point　of　losing　the　struggle　to　hold　her　lips　in　a　firm　line　and　that　a　repressed　grimace　was　close　to　winning　the　day。

i　rose　from　my　chair　in　alarm　but　had　no　idea　what　i　ought　to　do。

‘miss　winter；“　i　exclaimed　helplessly；　”whatever　is　it？“

‘my　wolf；“　i　thought　i　heard　her　say；　but　the　effort　to　speak　was　enough　to　send　her　lips　into　a　quiver。　she　closed　her　eyes；　seemed　to　struggle　to　measure　her　breathing。　just　as　i　was　on　the　point　of　running　to　find　judith；　miss　winter　regained　control。　the　rise　and　fall　of　her　chest　slowed；　the　tremors　in　her　face　ceased；　and　though　she　was　still　pale　as　death；　she　opened　her　eyes　and　looked　at　me。

‘better…“　she　said　weakly。

slowly　i　returned　to　my　chair。

‘i　thought　you　said　something　about　a　wolf；“　i　began。

‘yes。　that　black　beast　that　gnaws　at　my　bones　whenever　he　gets　a　chance。　he　loiters　in　corners　and　behind　doors　most　of　the　time；　because　he’s　afraid　of　these。“　she　indicated　the　white　pills　on　the　table　beside　her。　”but　they　don’t　last　forever。　it’s　nearly　twelve　and　they　are　wearing　off。　he　is　sniffing　at　my　neck。　by　half　past　he　will　be　digging　his　teeth　and　claws　in。　until　one；　when　i　can　take　another　tablet　and　he　will　have　to　return　to　his　corner。　we　are　always　clockwatching；　he　and　i。　he　pounces　five　minutes　earlier　every　day。　but　i　cannot　take　my　tablets　five　minutes　earlier。　that　stays　the　same。“

‘but　surely　the　doctor—“

‘of　course。　once　a　week；　or　once　every　ten　days；　he　adjusts　the　dose。　only　never　quite　enough。　he　does　not　want　to　be　the　one　to　kill　me；　you　see。　and　so　when　it　es；　it　must　be　the　wolf　that　finishes　me　off。“

she　looked　at　me；　very　matter…of…fact；　then　relented。

‘the　pills　are　here；　look。　and　the　glass　of　water。　if　i　wanted　to；　i　could　put　an　end　to　it　myself。　whenever　i　chose。　so　do　not　feel　sorry　for　me。　i　have　chosen　this　way　because　i　have　things　to　do。“

i　nodded。　“all　right。”

‘so。　let’s　get　on　and　do　them；　shall　we？　where　were　we？“

‘the　doctor’s　wife。　in　the　music　room。　with　the　violin。“

and　we　continued　our　work。

charlie　wasn’t　used　to　dealing　with　problems。

he　had　problems。　plenty　of　them—holes　in　the　roof；　cracked　windowpanes；　pigeons　moldering　away　in　the　attic　rooms—but　he　ignored　them。　or　perhaps　was　so　far　removed　from　the　world　that　he　just　didn’t　notice　them。　when　the　water　penetration　got　too　bad　he　just　closed　up　a　room　and　started　using　another　one。　the　house　was　big　enough；　after　all。　one　wonders　whether　in　his　slow…moving　mind　he　realized　that　other　people　actively　maintained　their　homes。　but　then；　dilapidation　was　his　natural　environment。　he　felt　at　home　in　it。

still；　a　doctor’s　wife　apparently　dead　in　the　music　room　was　a　problem　he　couldn’t　ignore。　if　it　had　been　one　of　us…　but　an　outsider。　that　was　another　matter。　something　had　to　be　done；　although　he　had　no　notion　of　what　that　something　might　be；　and　he　stared；　stricken；　at　the　doctor’s　wife　as　she　put　her　hand　to　her　throbbing　head　and　moaned。　he　might　be　stupid；　but　he　knew　what　this　meant。　calamity　was　ing。

the　missus　sent　john…the…dig　for　the　doctor　and　in　due　course　the　doctor　arrived。　and　it　seemed　for　a　while　that　premonitions　of　disaster　were　ill…founded；　for　it　was　found　that　the　doctor’s　wife　was　not　badly　hurt　at　all；　barely　even　concussed。　she　refused　a　tot　of　brandy；　accepted　tea　and　after　a　short　while　was　as　right　as　rain。　“it　was　a　woman；”　she　said。　“a　woman　in　white。”

‘nonsense；“　said　the　missus；　at　once　reassuring　and　dismissive。　”there　is　no　woman　in　white　in　the　house。“

tears　glittered　in　mrs。　maudsley’s　brown　eyes；　but　she　was　adamant。　“yes；　a　woman；　slightly　built；　there　on　the　chaise　lounge。　she　heard　the　piano　and　rose　up　and—”

‘did　you　see　her　for　long？“　dr。　maudsley　asked。

‘no；　it　was　just　for　a　moment。“

‘well　then；　you　see？　it　cannot　be；“　the　missus　interrupted　her；　and　though　her　voice　was　sympathetic　it　was　also　firm。　”there　is　no　woman　in　white。　you　must　have　seen　a　ghost。“

and　then　for　the　first　time；　john…the…dig’s　voice　was　heard。　“they　do　say　that　the　house　is　haunted。”

for　a　moment　the　assembled　group　looked　at　the　broken　violin　abandoned　on　the　floor；　and　considered　the　lump　that　was　forming　on　mrs。　maudsley’s　temple；　but　before　anyone　had　time　to　respond　to　the　theory；　isabelle　appeared　in　the　doorway。　slim　and　willowy；　she　was　wearing　a　pale　lemon　dress；　her　haphazard　topknot　was　unkempt　and　her　eyes；　though　beautiful；　were　wild。

‘could　this　be　the　person　you　saw？“　the　doctor　asked　his　wife。

mrs。　maudsley　measured　isabelle　against　the　picture　in　her　mind。　how　many　shades　separate　white　from　pale　yellow？　where　exactly　is　the　borderline　between　slight　and　slim？　how　might　a　blow　to　the　head　affect　a　person’s　memory？　she　wavered；　then；　seeing　the　emerald　eyes　and　finding　an　exact　match　in　her　memory；　decided。

‘yes。　this　is　the　person。“

the　missus　and　john…the…dig　avoided　exchanging　a　glance。

from　that　moment；　forgetting　his　wife；　it　was　isabelle　the　doctor　attended　to。　he　looked　at　her　closely；　kindly；　with　worry　in