The Best Holiday Mysteries for Christmas Time. Джером К. ДжеромЧитать онлайн книгу.
same woman came in who had shown the bust in the afternoon. I waited my time; and then slipped into the church; but she turned round sharply, just as I’d got half way out, and came up to me. I never was frightened by an old woman before; but I can tell you, she frightened me. “Oh! there are you again!” says she: “Come, I say! this won’t do. You sneaked out yesterday afternoon without paying anything; and you sneak in again after me, as soon as I open the door this morning — ain’t you ashamed of being so shabby as that, at your age? — ain’t you?” I never paid money in my life, Annie, with pleasure, till I gave that old woman some to stop her mouth! And I don’t recollect either that I’d ever tried to run since leaving the stage (where we had a good deal of running, first and last, in the battle scenes); but I ran as soon as I got well away from the church, I can promise you — ran almost the whole way home.’
‘That’s what made you look so tired when you came in, grandfather,’ said Annie; ‘we couldn’t think what was the matter with you at the time.’
‘Well,’ continued the old man, ‘as soon as I could possibly get away from you, after coming back, I went and locked myself into my bedroom, pulled the mould in a great hurry out of the canvas bag, and took the cast at once — a beautiful cast! a perfect cast! I never produced a better when I was in good practice, Annie! When I sat down on the side of the bed, and looked at Shakespeare — my Shakespeare — got with so much danger, and made with my own hands — so white and pure and beautiful, just out of the mould! Old as I am, it was all I could do to keep myself from dancing for joy!’
‘And yet, grandfather,’ said Annie reproachfully, ‘you could keep all that joy to yourself: you could keep it from me!’
‘It was wrong my love, wrong on my part not to trust you — I’m sorry for it now. But the joy, after all, lasted a very little while — only from the afternoon to the evening. In the evening, if you remember, I went out to the butcher’s to buy something for my own supper; something I could fancy, to make me comfortable before I went to bed (you little thought how I wanted my bed that night!). Well, when I got into the shop, several people were there; and what do you think they were all talking about? It makes me shudder even to remember it now! They were talking about a cast having been taken — feloniously taken, just fancy that, from the Stratford bust!’
Annie looked pale again instantly at this part of the story. As for ‘Julius Caesar’, though he said nothing, he was evidently suffering from a second attack of the sympathetic cold perspiration which had already troubled him. He used the cotton handkerchief more copiously than ever just at this moment.
‘The butcher was speaking when I came in,’ pursued Mr Wray. ‘ “Who’s been and took it,” says the fellow, (his grammar and elocution were awful, Annie!) “nobody don’t know yet; but the Town Council will know by tomorrow, and then he’ll be took himself.” “Ah,” says a dirty little man in black, “he’ll be cast into prison, for taking a cast — eh?” They laughed, actually laughed at this vile pun. Then another man asked how it had been found out. “Some says,” answered the butcher, “he was seen a doin’ of it, through the window, by some chap looking in accidental like: some says, nobody don’t know but the churchwardens, and they won’t tell till they’ve got him.” “Well,” says a woman, waiting with a basket to be served, “but how will they get him? — (two chops, please, when you’re quite ready) — that’s the thing: how will they get him?” “Quite easy; take my word for it;” says the man who made the bad pun. “In the first place, they’ve posted up handbills, offering a reward for him; in the second place, they’re going to examine the people who show the church; in the third place — ” “Bother your places!” cried the woman, “I wish I could get my chops.” “There you are Mum,” says the butcher, cutting off the chops, “and if you want my opinion about this business, it’s this here: they’ll transport him right away, in no time.” “They can’t,” cries the dirty man, “they can only imprison him.” “For life — eh?” says the woman, going off with the chops. “Be so kind as to let me have a couple of kidneys,” said I; for my knees knocked together, and I could stand it no longer.’
‘Then you thought, grandfather, that they suspected you?’
‘I thought everything that was horrible, Annie. However, I got my kidneys, and went out unhindered, leaving them still talking about it. On my way home I saw the handbill — the handbill itself! Ten pounds reward for apprehending the man who had taken the cast! I read it twice through, in a sort of trance of terror. My mask taken away, and myself put in prison, if not transported — that was the prospect I had to give me an appetite for the kidneys. There was only one thing to be done: to get away from Stratford while I had the chance. The night-coach went that very evening, straight through to this place, which was far enough off for safety. We had some money, you know, left, after that last private-theatrical party, where they treated us so generously. In short, I made you pack up, Annie, as you said just now, and got you both off by the coach, in time, not daring to speak a word about my secret, and as miserable as I could be the whole journey. But let us say no more about that — here we are, safe and sound! and here’s my face of Shakespeare — my diamond above all price — safe and sound, too! You shall see it; you shall look at the mask, both of you, and then, I hope, you’ll acknowledge that you know as much as I do about the mystery!’
‘But the mould,’ cried Annie; ‘haven’t you got the mould with you, too?’
‘Lord bless my soul!’ exclaimed Mr Wray, slapping both hands, in desperation, on the lid of the cash box. ‘Between the fright and the hurry of getting away, I quite forgot it — it’s left at Stratford!’
‘Left at Stratford!’ echoed Annie, with a vague feeling of dismay, that she could not account for.
‘Yes: rolled up in the canvas bag, and poked behind the landlord’s volumes of the Annual Register, on the top shelf of the cupboard, in my bedroom. Between thinking of how to take care of the mask, and how to take care of myself, I quite forgot it. Don’t look so frightened, Annie! The people at the lodgings are not likely to find it; and if they did, they wouldn’t know what it was, and would throw it away. I’ve got the mask; and that’s all I want — the mould is of no consequence to me, now — it’s the mask that’s everything — everything in the world!’
‘I can’t help feeling frightened, grandfather; and I can’t help wishing you had brought away the mould, though I don’t know why.’
‘You’re frightened, Annie, about the Stratford people coming after me here — that’s what you’re frightened about. But, if you and Julius Caesar keep the secret from everybody — and I know you will — there is no fear at all. They won’t catch me back at Stratford again, or you either; and if the churchwardens themselves found the mould, that wouldn’t tell them where I was gone, would it? Look up, you silly little Annie! We’re quite safe here. Look up, and see the great sight I’m going to show you — a sight that nobody in England can show, but me; — the mask! the mask of Shakespeare!’
His cheeks flushed, his fingers trembled, as he took the key out of his pocket and put it into the lock of the old cash box. ‘Julius Caesar’, breathless with wonder and suspense, clapped both his hands behind him, to make sure of breaking nothing this time. Even Annie caught the infection of the old man’s triumph and delight, and breathed quicker than usual when she heard the click of the opening lock.
‘There!’ cried Mr Wray, throwing back the lid; ‘there is the face of William Shakespeare! there is the treasure which the greatest lord in this land doesn’t possess — a copy of the Stratford bust! Look at the forehead! Who’s got such a forehead now? Look at his eyes; look at his nose. He was not only the greatest man that ever lived, but the handsomest, too! Who says this isn’t just what his face was; his face taken after death? Who’s bold enough to say so? Just look at the mouth, dropped and open — that’s one proof? Look at the cheek, under the right eye; don’t you see a little paralytic gathering up of the muscle, not visible on the other side? — that’s another proof! Oh, Annie, Annie! there’s the very face that once looked out, alive and beaming, on this poor old world of ours! There’s the man who’s comforted me, informed me, made