bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第244节
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Leicester Dedlock； whether from the first I believed George to be
the murderer； I tell you candidly No； but he might be；
notwithstanding； and there was enough against him to make it my
duty to take him； and get him kept under remand。 Now； observe！”
As Mr Bucket bends forward in some excitement—for him—
and inaugurates what he is going to say with one ghostly beat of
his forefinger in the air； Mademoiselle Hortense fixes her black
eyes upon him with a dark frown； and sets her dry lips closely and
firmly together。
“I went home； Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet； at night； and
found this young woman having supper with my wife； Mrs Bucket。
She had made a mighty show of being fond of Mrs Bucket from
her first offering herself as our lodger； but that night she made
more than ever—in fact overdid it。 Likewise she overdid her
respect； and all that； for the lamented memory of the deceased Mr
Tulkinghorn。 By the living Lord it flashed upon me； as I sat
opposite to her at the table and saw her with a knife in her hand；
that she had done it！”
Mademoiselle is hardly audible； in straining through her teeth
and lips the words “You are a Devil。”
“Now where；” pursues Mr Bucket； had she been on the night of
the murder？ She had been to the theayter。 （She really was there； I
have since found； both before the deed and after it。） I knew I had
an artful customer to deal with； and that proof would be very
difficult； and I laid a trap for her—such a trap as I never laid yet；
and such a venture as I never made yet。 I worked it out in my
mind while I was talking to her at supper。 When I went upstairs to
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bed； our house being small and this young woman’s ears sharp； I
stuffed the sheet into Mrs Bucket’s mouth that she shouldn’t say a
word of surprise； and told her all about it。—My dear； don’t you
give your mind to that again； or I shall link your feet together at
the ankles。” Mr Bucket； breaking off； has made a noiseless descent
upon Mademoiselle； and laid his heavy hand upon her shoulder。
“What is the matter with you now？” she asks him。
“Don’t you think any more；” returns Mr Bucket； with
admonitory finger； “of throwing yourself out of window。 That’s
what’s the matter with me。 Come！ Just take my arm。 You needn’t
get up； I’ll sit down by you。 Now； take my arm； will you。 I’m a
married man； you know； you’re acquainted with my wife。 Just take
my arm。”
Vainly endeavouring to moisten those dry lips； with a painful
sound； she struggles with herself and complies。
“Now we’re all right again。 Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet； this
case could never have been the case it is； but for Mrs Bucket； who
is a woman in fifty thousand—in a hundred and fifty thousand！ To
throw this young woman off her guard； I have never set foot in our
house since； though I’ve communicated with Mrs Bucket； in the
baker’s loaves and in the milk； as often as required。 My whispered
words to Mrs Bucket； when she had the sheet in her mouth were；
‘My dear； can you throw her off continually with natural accounts
of my suspicions against George； and this； and that； and t’other？
Can you do without rest； and keep watch upon her night and day？
Can you undertake to say； She shall do nothing without my
knowledge； she shall be my prisoner without suspecting it； she
shall no more escape from me than from death； and her life shall
be my life； and her soul my soul； till I have got her； if she did this
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murder？’ Mrs Bucket says to me； as well as she could speak； on
account of the sheet； ‘Bucket； I can！’ And she has acted up to it
glorious！”
“Lies！” Mademoiselle interposes。 “All lies； my friend！”
“Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet； how did my calculations come
out under these circumstances？ When I calculated that this
impetuous young woman would overdo it in new directions； was I
wrong or right？ I was right。 What does she try to do？ Don’t let it
give you a turn？ To throw the murder on her Ladyship。”
Sir Leicester rises from his chair； and staggers down again。
“And she got encouragement in it from hearing that I was
always here； which was done a’ purpose。 Now； open that pocket…
book of mine； Sir Leicester Dedlock； if I may take the liberty of
throwing it towards you； and look at the letter sent to me； each
with the two words； LADY DEDLOCK； in it。 Open the one
directed to yourself； which I stopped this very morning； and read
the three words； LADY DEDLOCK； MURDERESS； in it。 These
letters have been falling about like a shower of lady…birds。 What do
you say now to Mrs Bucket； from her spy…place； having seen them
all written by this young woman？ What do you say to Mrs Bucket
having； within this half…hour； secured the corresponding ink and
paper； fellow half…sheets； and what not？ What do you say to Mrs
Bucket having watched the posting of ’em every one by this young
woman； Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet？” Mr Bucket asks；
triumphant in his admiration of his lady’s genius。
Two things are especially observable； as Mr Bucket proceeds to
a conclusion。 First； that he seems imperceptibly to establish a
dreadful right of property in Mademoiselle。 Secondly； that the
very atmosphere she breathes seems to narrow and contract about
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her； as if a close net； or a pall； were being drawn nearer and yet
nearer around her breathless figure。
“There’s no doubt that her Ladyship was on the spot at the
eventful period；” says Mr Bucket； “and my foreign friend here saw
her； I believe from the upper part of the staircase。 Her Ladyship
and George and my foreign friend were all pretty close on one
another’s heels。 But that don’t signify any more； so I’ll not go into
it。 I found the wadding of the pistol with which the deceased Mr
Tulkinghorn was shot。 It was a bit of the printed description of
your house at Chesney Wold。 Not much in that； you’ll say； Sir
Leicester Dedlock； Baronet。 No。 But when my foreign friend here
is so thoroughly off her guard as to think it a safe time to tear up
the rest of that leaf； and when Mrs Bucket puts the pieces together
and finds the wadding wanting； it begins to look like Queer
street。”
“These are very long lies；” Mademoiselle interposes。 “You
prose great deal。 Is it that you have almost all finished； or are you
speaking always？”
“Sir Leicester Dedlock； Baronet；” proceeds Mr Bucket； who
delights in a full title； and does violence to himself when he
dispenses with any fragment of it； “the last point in the case which
I am now going to mention； shows the necessity of patience in our
business； and never doing a thing in a hurry。 I watched this young
woman yesterday； without her knowledge； when she was looking
at the funeral； in company with my wife； who planned to take her
there； and I had so much to convict her； and I saw such an
expression in her face； and my mind so rose against her malice
towards her Ladyship； and the time was altogether such a time for
bringing down what you may call retribution upon her； that if I
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had been a younger hand with le
