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非洲的百万富翁|Millionaire in Africa

第一章　墨西哥先知|Chapter I The Episode of the Mexican Seer

属类： 双语小说 【分类】双语小说 -[作者: 格兰特-艾伦] 阅读：[9804]
《非洲的百万富翁》讲述了骗子克雷上校与查尔斯爵士斗智斗勇的故事.克雷上校通过伪装成不同的身份,如墨西哥先知,小牧师理查德·佩普洛·布拉巴宗,施莱尔马赫教授等欺骗查尔斯,令查尔斯防不胜防.而案情的揭露则是通过克雷上校在事后给查尔斯发来的羞辱信,把他实施作案的过程揭露出来的.最终,克雷上校受到了法律的制裁
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我叫西摩·威尔布拉汉姆·温特沃斯，是查尔斯·凡德里夫特爵士的妹夫兼秘书。他是位百万富翁、知名的金融家，祖籍南非。许多年前，他只是开普敦一位不知名的律师，我有幸娶了他妹妹为妻（当然也是门当户对），后来他将金伯利附近的地产、农场逐步发展成了克罗地多普·戈尔康达有限公司，他就给了我秘书一职；这个职务收入不错，此后我便作为秘书和他形影不离。

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查尔斯·凡德里夫特这人，一般的骗子骗不了他。他中等身材，体形魁梧，嘴唇紧闭，目光犀利，一副典型的成功且精明的商业天才的模样。据我所知，只有一个骗子在他身上得逞过，用尼斯警长的话说，即便维多克、罗伯特·胡丁，还有卡廖斯特罗联起手来，也绝对斗不过这个骗子。

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当时我们去里维埃拉待了几个星期。我们只是想摆脱金融集团那些繁重的事务，彻底地休息和放松一下，因此也就觉得没什么必要把妻子也一同带出来。实际上，凡德里夫特夫人一心痴迷于伦敦的各种享乐，对于地中海沿岸的乡村风情并无太大兴趣。而我和查尔斯爵士，虽然在国内全身心忙于公务，但对于能够完全摆脱伦敦的城市生活，到蒙特卡洛的高地来，欣赏到迷人的植物，呼吸到新鲜的空气，这种彻底的转变，我们完全欢迎。我们对风景情有独钟。站在摩纳哥的岩礁上放眼望去，身后的滨海阿尔卑斯山、前方的无际碧海，在雄伟的大赌场的映衬下显得尤为壮观，这是全欧洲数一数二的美景，令我心旷神怡。查尔斯对这个地方有种眷恋之情。经历了伦敦的喧嚣，下午能一边享受到蒙特卡洛的棕榈树、仙人掌、清风，一边还能在轮盘赌中赢上几百块钱，这让他精神焕发。要我说，对那些有识之士来讲，这个国度就是他们疲惫时的天堂。但实际上，我们并没有在此逗留。查尔斯觉得，作为一名金融家，通信地址中出现蒙特卡洛，这不太合适。他希望在尼斯的英国大道上找一家舒适的酒店，在那儿每天沿着海岸走到大赌场，恢复一下身体，放松一下紧张的神经。

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这段时间，我们舒舒服服地住在英国大酒店。客房在二楼，房间很不错——有客厅、书房、卧室——随处可见来自全球各地的各色人等，都非常和蔼可亲。当时，尼斯到处都在谈论一个神秘的骗子，其追随者都誉之为伟大的墨西哥先知。据说他有超凡的预见力，还有很多其他特异功能。我这位能干的内兄有个特殊嗜好，碰到骗子，就非得揭穿他不可。他是位极其敏锐的生意人，可以这么说，去甄别、戳穿别人的骗术，那种替天行道的正义感让他感到满足。酒店中的许多女士，总在不停地向我们诉说他的各种奇闻怪事，其中有些人同这位墨西哥先知碰过面，还交谈过。这位先知曾向一位女士透露了她那离家出走的丈夫的当前行踪，向另一位女士透露了第二天晚上轮盘赌的中奖号码，还通过屏幕向第三位女士展现了她数年来暗地里爱慕的男子的影像。查尔斯对此当然压根不信，但这却勾起了他的好奇心。他想亲自会会这位了不起的读心术士。

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“要是以个人的名义请他过来展示通灵，你觉得需要多少钱？”他问皮卡迪特夫人，先知曾为她准确地预测出中奖号码。

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“他不是为了钱，”皮卡迪特夫人答道，“而是为了人类的福祉。我敢保证，他会欣然前来展示他的特异功能，分文不取。”

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“胡说！”查尔斯爵士接过话，“不为钱，他怎么生存？不过，他要是能只身前来见我，我会给他五个基尼。他住哪家酒店？”

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“应该是大都会酒店，”她回答道，“不对，我想起来了，是威斯敏斯特大酒店。”

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查尔斯悄悄地转向我，低声道：“西摩，听着，晚饭后立刻到这家伙的住所，给他五英镑，让他马上到我房间来展示他通灵的本事。不要提起我是谁，名字要绝对保密。你们俩一起回来，直接上楼，这样他就没法和别人串通了。我们倒要看看这家伙到底有什么本事。”

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我按照他的吩咐出去了。我发现这位先知很有意思，十分惹眼。他和查尔斯爵士个头相当，但瘦些，腰板也直些，鹰钩鼻，眼睛像是能洞穿一切，瞳孔大而黑，面庞上的胡须刮得干干净净，轮廓鲜明，就像是我们梅费尔的宅邸里那个安提诺乌斯的半身像。然而，他最大的特点是那一头怪异的头发，拳曲成波浪状，跟帕德雷夫斯基一样，如同光环一样包裹着他那高高的白皙的前额还有那精致的面庞。我一下子就明白了，他为何能给女性留下如此深刻的印象：他的外貌集诗人、歌者以及先知于一体。

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“我到这里来，”我说道，“是想问问你，愿不愿意立刻动身去我朋友那里表演通灵？他还让我告诉你，会付五英镑作为表演的酬金。”

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安东尼奥·赫雷拉先生——他说这是他的名字——向我鞠了一躬，那种西班牙人的彬彬有礼让人难忘。他橄榄色的忧郁面庞上泛起一丝蔑视的微笑，严肃地说道：

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“我不会为了钱去出卖自己的才能，我不求报偿。要是你朋友——那位无名氏朋友——特别想见识一下在我指尖翻转的宇宙奇迹，我倒也乐意展示一番。刚好，我今天晚上没有其他安排。当有必要去打消别人的疑虑时（我本能地感觉到你的那位朋友是个多疑的人），我通常都会有空。今晚也一样，我刚好没有其他安排。”他的手从那漂亮的长发间划过，若有所思。“好，我去，”他继续说道，仿佛在同正在屋顶徘徊的某个不为人知的幽灵说话，“走，咱们一起去！”接着，他戴上墨西哥宽边帽，系上帽子的红丝带，斗篷披在肩上，点了支烟，就同我并肩大步走向英国大酒店。

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他一路很少说话，说的几句也都很简短。他仿佛在埋头沉思，实际上，当我们走到门口，我转身进门时，他又向前多走了一两步，好像并没有注意到我要领他去的地方。他突然停住，环顾了一会儿，说道：“哈，英国大酒店。”顺便提一下，他的英语虽然有点南方口音，但讲得地道、流利。“就是这儿啦！就是这儿！”他又对着那个看不见的幽灵说道。

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一想到他要拿这些幼稚的把戏去骗查尔斯·凡德里夫特爵士，我就笑了。全伦敦的人都知道，查尔斯这人才不会上别人的当。在我看来，这全都是些最低等、最拙劣的骗子的套话。

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我们一起上楼来到房间，查尔斯爵士召集了几位朋友一起观看表演。这位先知进了门，若有所思。他穿的是晚装，但腰间的红带子十分醒目，让人眼前一亮。他在客厅的中央停了一下，没去看哪个人，也没去盯着哪件物品，接着他便径直走向查尔斯，伸出了黝黑的手。

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“晚上好，”他说道，“我的灵魂告诉我，你就是主人。”

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“猜得不错。”查尔斯爵士答道，“麦肯齐夫人，您也知道，干这一行得机灵点，要不然永远别想有什么出息。”

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先知看了看查尔斯周围，朝其中的一两个人茫然地笑了笑，仿佛记起来以前见过面。接着，查尔斯爵士开始问他一些简单的问题，不是关于他自己的，而是关于我的一些问题，想考考这位先知。大多数问题，他都答得惊人的正确。“他的名字？我猜他的名字以‘西’开头——你叫他‘西摩’。”每句话说完之后，他都停顿良久，仿佛这些答案正在他面前慢慢地显现出来。“西摩——威尔布拉汉姆——斯特拉福的伯爵。不对，不是斯特拉福的伯爵，是西摩·威尔布拉汉姆·温特沃斯。今天在场的诸位中，有一位会知道温特沃斯和斯特拉福之间貌似存在某种联系。我不是英国人，不知道这是怎么一回事，但不知为何，温特沃斯和斯特拉福就是同一个名字。”

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他看看四周，显然在盼着谁能证实一下。这时，一位夫人帮了他一把。

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“斯特拉福当地有位了不起的伯爵，就姓温特沃斯，”她轻声低语，“如你所说，我也在想，温特沃斯先生是不是很可能就是他的后人呢？”

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“是的。”先知黑眸一亮，立刻答道。想来也蹊跷，尽管我父亲一直以为实际上存在这层关系，但家谱中却没有。他不敢确定洪·托马斯·威尔布拉汉姆·温特沃斯就是乔纳森·温特沃斯的父亲，而乔纳森，这位布里斯托的马贩子，正是我们家族的先人。

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“我在哪里出生的？”查尔斯爵士打断他，突然把问题转向自己。

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先知双手抱住额头，好像阻止它爆裂一样。“非洲，”他缓缓说道，答案逐渐浮出水面，“南非，好望角，扬森维尔，德威特街，1840年。”

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“我的天，他说得对，”查尔斯爵士咕哝着，“他好像还真有两下子。不过，他有可能来之前就查清了我的底细，知道自己要去哪里。”

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“我什么都没说，”我说，“就这样一直来到门口，他连我要领他到哪个酒店都不知道！”

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先知轻轻地抚摸着下巴，我看到他眼神中隐约露出一丝鬼祟。“要不要我告诉你藏在信封中的钞票的编号？”他漫不经心地说道。

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“你先出去，”查尔斯爵士说，“我把钞票给其他人看一下。”

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赫雷拉先生出了房间。查尔斯小心翼翼地把钞票传给周围的人看，自始至终一直把它拿在手里，只是让他们看了编号，接着便放进了信封，严严实实地封住了口。

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先知回到房间，敏锐地扫了一眼所有人，仿佛对一切了如指掌。他甩了甩蓬松的头发，接着把信封拿在手中，一动不动地盯着看。“AF，73549，”他缓缓说道，“英格兰银行发行的五十英镑纸币——用昨天在蒙特卡洛大赌场赢的金币兑换的。”

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“我知道这是怎么一回事了，”查尔斯得意扬扬地说，“他肯定自己在那里兑换过这张钞票，我又从那里兑换了回来。实际上，我还记得，看到过一个长头发的人在那儿四处转悠。不管怎么说，这戏法变得不错。”

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“他还能隔物观物，”一位女士插话道，说话的是皮卡迪特夫人，“他能透过盒子看东西。”她从衣兜里掏出一个小香料盒，就是我们外婆用的那种。“这里面是什么？”她把盒子凑到他眼前，问道。

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赫雷拉先生看穿了盒子。“三枚金币，”他答道，眉头紧锁，努力使目光穿透盒子，“一枚五块的美元，一枚十块的法郎，还有一枚是二十块的德国马克，老威廉皇帝时代的。”

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她打开小盒子，到处传着看，查尔斯爵士则在一旁平静地微笑着。

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“串通好的，”他像是自己咕哝道，“肯定是串通好的！”

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先知转向他，面露愠色。“要不要再来一个更有说服力的？”他问道，那语气让人难忘，“这回让你无话可说！听着，你马甲左兜里有一封信——一封皱巴巴的信，要不要我帮你念出来？你要是同意，我就念。”

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对于那些了解查尔斯的人来讲，这好像有点让人难以置信，但我不得不说，查尔斯的脸确实红了。那封信里究竟写了什么，我不得而知。他只是很不耐烦，有点逃避似的答道：“谢啦，这就不必了，不用麻烦你了。刚刚你在我们面前的表演，足以证明你这方面的能力了。”这时，他赶紧紧张地把手伸进马甲的口袋，即便这样，好像也隐隐担心赫雷拉会把它念出来似的。

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我猜，他也多少有点紧张地瞄了一眼皮卡迪特夫人。

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先知优雅地鞠了一躬。“先生，您的意愿就是我的铁律，”他说，“虽然我能看穿一切，但不论何时，都要尊重别人的隐私与尊严，这是我的原则。要不然，我也许就把社会搞垮了。要是把关于诸位的一切真相都公开，谁能受得了呢！”他环视房间一圈，引起在座各位的一阵不悦与恐慌。我们大多数人都觉得，这位神秘的西班牙裔美国人知道的未免太多了。要知道，我们其中有几位是做金融的。

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“举个例子，”先知对此视而不见，继续说道，“碰巧几周前我从这儿坐火车去巴黎，同行的还有一位精明的男士，是位公司创始人。他包里装了些文件——一些机密文件。”他瞄了一眼查尔斯，“尊敬的先生，这些材料，您是知道的：专家报告——采矿工程师写的。您可能见到过一些类似的文件，上面写着‘绝密’。”

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“这些是巨额融资的一部分。”查尔斯爵士冷冷地承认道。

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“一点不错，”先知低声道，一时间，他的西班牙口音没之前那么重了，“既然这些文件上标明了‘绝密’，我当然得尊重这种隐私。这就是我想说的：既然我被赋予了这种特异能力，那么在运用它的时候，就不能惹他人生气，也不能给他人带来任何不便，这一点我一直视作自己的本分。”

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“你能有这份心，别人会为此而敬重你的。”查尔斯略带刻薄地应道。接着，他在我耳边轻声说：“西，这个精明的浑球儿真讨厌，早知道就不请他过来了。”

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赫雷拉先生仿佛本能地察觉到了查尔斯的这一想法，因为这时他以一种更为轻松欢快的语气，插话说道：

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“现在我再给您展示一下超自然的能力，和之前不一样，不过更有意思。下面得听我的安排，得把周围的灯光稍微调暗一些。主人先生——这么称呼您，是因为我得有意克制自己，不让自己从在座的诸位的头脑中读取您的大名——您介不介意把这盏灯调暗些？……好！这就可以了。现在，再调一下这盏，还有这盏。对，就这样！”他从一个小包里往茶托上倒了几堆粉末。“下面，请拿根火柴过来，谢谢！”茶托上面燃起了奇异的绿光，他从口袋里掏出一张卡片，还有一个小墨水瓶。“您有笔吗？”他问。

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我立刻递过去一支。他把笔递给查尔斯爵士，说：“烦请您把名字写在这儿。”他指着卡片中间的一个地方，卡片四周凸起，中间有个方形区域，颜色不太一样。

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要是不告知其事由，查尔斯爵士自然是不愿意签名的。“你要我的签名做什么？”他问道。（要知道百万富翁的签名用处可多着呢！）

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“请您把卡片装进信封，”先知答道，“然后烧掉。之后，您会看到您的名字会以血红的颜色写在我的胳膊上，是您自己的笔迹。”

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查尔斯接过笔。要是名字一签完就烧掉，他也就不会太在意了。他像平常一样签了名，笔迹清晰有力——这是那种签名者知其价值，不怕开出一张五千英镑支票的笔迹。

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“使劲盯着看。”先知在房间的另一端说道。查尔斯签字的时候他并没有看。

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查尔斯一动不动地盯着卡片，先知果真准备一展身手了。

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“现在把卡片装进信封。”先知大声宣布。

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查尔斯温顺得像只羔羊，按要求乖乖地做了。

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先知大步向前，说：“把信封给我。”他手持信封，走向壁炉，庄重地烧掉了。“看——烧成灰了。”他高声说道，接着回到房间中央，靠近绿色火光，在查尔斯爵士面前卷起袖子，伸出胳膊。我那位内兄看到了这个名字，“查尔斯·凡德里夫特”，血红色的字，是他自己的笔迹。

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查尔斯回过身，低声说道：“我知道这是怎么一回事，一种巧妙的错觉，但还是被我看穿了。这就跟那种有叠影的书一样。你用的墨水是深绿色的，灯光也是绿色的，你还让我使劲盯着看，接着我就在你胳膊上看到了同样的东西，补色罢了。”

55
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“真是这样？”先知奇怪地撇了撇嘴，回敬道。

56
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“肯定是这样。”查尔斯爵士答道。

57
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先知闪电般地再次卷起袖子，字正腔圆大声说道：“这是你的名字，但不是全名。我右胳膊上的字，你又该如何解释呢？这也是补色吗？”他把另一只胳膊露了出来，上面写着“查尔斯·奥沙利文·凡德里夫特”，海绿色的字迹。这是查尔斯受洗时的全名，只不过多年前，他把中间的“奥沙利文”去掉了，因为说实话，他不太喜欢这个中名，有点耻于提到他母亲的家世。

58
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查尔斯匆匆瞥了一眼，说：“一点不错，一点不错。”但他的话没什么底气。我能猜得出，他不想再让这场演示继续下去了。他当然看透了这个人；很明显，这家伙对我们了解得太多，让我们觉得很不自在。

59
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“把灯调亮。”我吩咐道，服务员就把灯调亮了。我低声问凡德里夫特：“要不要我叫点咖啡，还有甜酒？”

60
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“怎么都行，只要别再让这家伙继续乱说下去！”他答道，“还有，我说，你不觉得，最好也建议一下所有男士都来支烟吗？甚至这些女士也不反对抽烟——起码有几位不反对。”

61
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大家都松了口气，灯亮了起来，先知也暂时把手头的事放一放，欣然接过一支帕特加雪茄，在房间一角啜着咖啡，彬彬有礼地同那位提醒他“斯特拉福”的女士聊着天，一副优雅绅士的派头。

62
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第二天一早，我在酒店大厅又碰到了皮卡迪特夫人，她身着一身定制的旅行装束，干净整洁，很显然要去火车站。

63
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“怎么，皮卡迪特夫人，要走了吗？”我大声问道。

64
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她莞尔一笑，伸出戴着漂亮手套的手。“是的，要走了，”她顽皮地答道，“去佛罗伦萨，或者罗马，或者其他地方。尼斯这座城市就像个橘子，已经被我吸干了。能玩儿的也都玩了，现在又得出发了，去我心爱的意大利。”

65
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但我觉得事有蹊跷，如果她打算去意大利游玩，为什么要搭乘公共汽车去赶开往巴黎的豪华列车呢？不过，对于女士们告诉你的事儿，不管多么不可信，深谙世故的人是不会去质疑的。老实说，在接下来十天左右的时间内，我再也没有想到过她，也没想起过那位先知。

66
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那段时期快结束时，伦敦的银行给我们寄来了每两周一次的账簿。我作为百万富翁的秘书，其中一项职责就是，每两周就要把欠账还上，再把已付的支票同查尔斯的票根比对一遍。就在这时，我偶然发现了一处出入，一处非常严重的出入——实际上，足足有五千英镑之多，说是我们的支出。查尔斯的借方账户比票根总额多了五千英镑。

67
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我仔细地检查了账簿，出问题的地方一目了然。查尔斯签了一张五千英镑的支票，支付给“本人或持票人”，很明显是经由伦敦的柜台付的款，因为票面上既没有盖章也没有其他单位的标记。

68
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我把查尔斯从客厅叫到书房。“查尔斯，看看这儿，”我说，“账簿中有张支票你没记上。”我把支票递给他，再没说什么，心想可能是他支取出来，去还跑马比赛或打牌时输的钱了，或者做了些不愿意让我知道的事情，这也不是不可能。

69
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他看了看支票，又仔仔细细地盯着瞧了瞧，接着努了努嘴，长长地“哟”了一声。最后，他思来想去，说道：“我说，西，兄弟，咱们被骗了，对吧？”

70
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我看了眼支票，问道：“你这话什么意思？”

71
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“哎，就是那个先知，”他一边说着，一边仍沉痛地盯着那张支票，“那五千英镑没什么大不了的，但想想那家伙把咱们俩骗成那样——这太卑鄙了！”

72
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“你怎么知道是先知干的？”我问。

73
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“看看这绿色的墨迹，”他答道，“还有，我还记得我签名的最后一笔是什么样。我一兴奋，就会签成这样，但一般情况下我不会这么签。”

74
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“他骗了我们，”我这时也意识到了，“但他是怎么把签名转到支票上的？查尔斯，这看起来就是你的笔迹，不像是精心伪造的。”

75
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“确实是我的笔迹，”他说，“我承认——这没法否认。可他还是在我最小心戒备的时候骗了我！他那些傻乎乎的神秘把戏，还有那一直挂在嘴边的话都骗不了我，但我万万没想到，他居然会以这种方式来骗我的钱。我当时觉得，他会问我借钱，或者勒索我一把。唉，把我的签名弄到空白支票上，真够狠的！”

76
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“他是怎么弄的？”我问。

77
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“我压根也不清楚！但我所知道的是，这名字确实是我签的，这点我绝对敢保证。”

78
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“不能提出异议吗？”

79
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“可惜不行，这是我的亲笔签名。”

80
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当天下午，我们毫不迟延地动身去办公室见警察局局长。他是位温文尔雅的法国人，没平日里那么死板，也没那么拖拉，英语讲得不错，带点美国腔。实际上，他早些年在纽约做过十年左右的侦探。

81
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听了我们的经历后，他不慌不忙地说：“先生们，我想你们是被克雷上校骗了。”

82
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“克雷上校是谁？”查尔斯爵士问道。

83
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“这也正是我想弄明白的地方，”警长说道，操着那怪怪的美法式英语，“他是位上校，因为他时不时给自己弄个头衔。之所以称他为克雷上校，是因为他貌似有张橡皮脸，能像制陶工人把玩泥土一样重塑自己的脸型。他的真名，不知道。国籍，英法。住址，通常在欧洲。职业，在巴黎格雷万蜡像馆当过塑像师。年龄，可以随心选择。他会根据自己掌握的情况，往自己脸上抹些蜡，来塑造鼻子还有脸颊的形状，去伪装成自己想要扮演的角色。你说他这次是鹰钩鼻，过来，看看这几张照片像不像？”

84
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他在桌子上翻着，接着递给我们两张照片。

85
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“一点都不像，”查尔斯爵士答道，“可能脖子有点像，但其他地方一点都不像。”

86
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“这就是咱们所说的上校。”警长高兴地搓搓手，肯定地答道。“看这里。”接着他拿出一支铅笔，快速地描绘出了其中一副面孔，画的是个泰然自若的年轻人，没什么值得一提的地方，“这就是经过简单伪装后的上校。好，现在看着我：你们想象一下，他在鼻子的这个地方加一点点蜡——鹰钩鼻——就出来了。这就像他了。然后下巴，哈，再来一下。至于头发嘛，来个假发。肤色，这就更简单了。你们要找的无赖，就长这样，对吧？”

87
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“太像了。”我们俩不约而同地说道。铅笔画上两笔，再配个假发，整个面孔都变了。

88
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“可是，他的眼睛很大，瞳孔也很大，”我仔细看了看，提出异议，“但相片里的这个人眼睛很小，跟死鱼眼一样。”

89
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“的确如此，”警长答道，“一滴颠茄就会让瞳孔变大，这就变成了先知；来上五滴麻醉剂，瞳孔就会收缩，这样就变成了一副半死不活、又蠢又无辜的样子。先生们，这样，把这事交给我。我要把这场好戏看完。我不是说能帮你们抓住他，至今还没有谁抓住过克雷上校；不过，我会给你们揭穿他的骗术。对于您这样身家的人，只损失了区区五千英镑，这也应当足够宽慰了。”

90
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“您可不是一般的法国要员，警长先生。”我试着插了一句。

91
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“当然！”警长答道，收腹挺胸，像个步兵队长。“先生们，”他用法语继续说道，甚是威风，“我会尽本局之所能，来追踪逃犯，如果有可能，会将他缉拿归案。”

92
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当然了，我们给伦敦方面发了份电报，向银行详尽地描述了嫌疑人。不过，不消说，这根本没什么用。

93
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三天后，警长来到我们住的酒店。“先生们，”他说，“很高兴告诉你们，我已经查明一切了！”

94
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“什么？抓住那个先知了？”查尔斯大声问道。

95
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警长往后退了一步，对查尔斯冒出的这个念头几乎感到惊骇。

96
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“抓到克雷上校？”他叫道，“先生，你我只是凡人啊！抓到他？没有，还没抓到。不过，已经查出他是如何得逞的了。先生们，要想揭开克雷上校的面纱——这进展已经不错了。”

97
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“哦，你到底发现了什么？”查尔斯问道，有点泄气。

98
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警长坐下来，对于自己的发现扬扬自得。很明显，他对精心策划的犯罪抱有极大的兴趣。“先生，首先，”他说，“你脑子里再也不要以为，那天晚上你的秘书出去请赫雷拉时他不知道要去见谁。实际情况恰恰相反。赫雷拉先生，或者克雷上校（随你怎么叫），今年冬天来到尼斯，不为别的，就是为了劫你一票，这一点我敢肯定。”

99
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“可是，是我让人请的他。”查尔斯插话道。

100
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“是你让人请的他，他本来就打算让你去请他。可以说，就像是迫牌，要连这都做不到，我想他这骗术也未免太烂了。有位女士——姑且认为是他妻子，或者妹妹——住在这家酒店，是某位叫皮卡迪特夫人的。他利用这位夫人，引诱了你圈子里的几位女士观看他的通灵表演。接着，这位夫人便同她们一起向你谈起他，引起你的好奇心。我敢打赌，他到你房间时，早已做足了功课，把你俩的底细查了个底朝天。”

101
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“西，咱们多傻呀，”查尔斯高声喊道，“现在我全明白了。那个狡猾的女人在晚饭前出去报信，说我想见他，等你到那儿时，他已经准备好要宰我一把了。”

102
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“就是这样，”警长说，“他在两条胳膊上都印了你的名字，另外还做了些更为重要的准备。”

103
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“你是说支票。那，他是怎么弄到的？”

104
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警长打开门，说：“进来吧！”一位年轻男子走了进来，我们一眼就认出来了，他是马赛信贷银行外事部门的书记官长，马赛信贷银行是里维埃拉地区主要的银行。

105
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“关于这张支票，说说你所掌握的情况。”警长说，给他看了看支票。我们已经将支票交给了警方，留作证据。

106
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“大概四周前……”他张口说道。

107
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“也就是在你那通灵会十天前。”警长打断了一下。

108
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“一位男士，长头发，鹰钩鼻，肤色比较深，有点怪怪的，长得不错，来到我们部门，问我能否告诉他查尔斯·凡德里夫特在伦敦开户行的名称，说是要付一笔钱给你，还问我们能否替他转账。我告诉他，我们收款是违规的，因为你没在我们这儿开设账户。我告诉他，你在伦敦的开户行是达尔比、德拉蒙德，还有罗腾堡有限公司。”

109
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“一点不错。”查尔斯低声道。

110
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“两天后，一位叫皮卡迪特夫人的女士，她是我们的客户，递进来一张三百英镑的支票，签的是一个最上等的名字，让我们代她存入达尔比、德拉蒙德，还有罗腾堡有限公司，并为她同它们开个伦敦的户头。我们照办了，于是收到一本支票簿。”

111
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“根据伦敦发来的电报，我从编号发现，这张支票就来自那本支票簿。”警长插话道，“还有，在支票兑现的同一天，皮卡迪特夫人在伦敦取出了她账户的余额。”

112
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“可是，那家伙是怎么让我在支票上签的字呢？”查尔斯大声问道，“他那卡片的把戏又是怎么回事？”

113
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警长从兜里掏出一张类似的卡片，问道：“是不是这种东西？”

114
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“就是，简直一模一样！”

115
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“和我想的一样。我发现，咱们那位上校在马赛纳的一家商店里买了一包这种东西，这卡片本来是一种宗教仪式的入场券。他把中间裁掉，接着，看这里——”警长把它翻过来，看到背面整整齐齐地贴着一张纸；他把纸撕掉，就在那纸的后面藏着一张叠好的支票，从卡片正面看，留出的区域就是签字的地方，先知给我们看的也就是正面。“要我说，这把戏够巧妙的。”警长评论道，他正用一种专业的眼光来欣赏一个极其精妙的骗局。

116
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“可是，他当着我的面把信封烧了。”查尔斯高声道。

117
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“呸，”警长答道，“要是从桌子到壁炉这中间，他不能瞒着你把信封换掉，他还能算什么骗子？你要知道，克雷上校可是骗子中的高手。”

118
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“嗯，弄清楚了这个人还有那位和他一起的女人的身份，多少也算个安慰。”查尔斯说道，舒了口气，“你们下一步，当然就是沿着这些线索去英国跟踪，然后逮捕他们？”

119
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警长耸了耸肩，被逗乐了，叫道：“逮捕他们？先生，你可真是乐观，还没有哪位警长逮到过橡皮脸上校——这是我们给他起的法语名。那人狡猾得像条泥鳅，在我们的指间游走。我问你，假设我们把他抓住了，那又能证明什么呢？没有谁敢保证同他碰过一次面之后，在他下次伪装时还能再认出他。这位精明的上校，谁也不是他的对手。要是哪天我把他抓住了，先生，我敢说，我会觉得自己是全欧洲最精明的警长。”

120
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“不过，我会抓住他的。”查尔斯爵士答道，之后陷入了沉默。

121
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My name is Seymour Wilbraham Wentworth. I am brother-in-law and secretary to Sir Charles Vandrift, the South African millionaire and famous financier.Many years ago, when Charlie Vandrift was a small lawyer in Cape Town, I had the（qualifed）good fortune to marry his sister.Much later, when the Vandrift estate and farm near Kimberley developed by degrees into the Cloetedorp Golcondas, Limited, my brother-in-law offered me the not unremunerative post of secretary；in which capacity I have ever since been his constant and attached companion.

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He is not a man whom any common sharper can take in, is Charles Vandrift. Middle height, square build, firm mouth, keen eyes—the very picture of a sharp and successful business genius.I have only known one rogue impose upon Sir Charles, and that one rogue, as the Commissary of Police at Nice remarked, would doubtless have imposed upon a syndicate of Vidocq, Robert Houdin, and Cagliostro.

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We had run across to the Riviera for a few weeks in the season. Our object being strictly rest and recreation from the arduous duties of financial combination, we did not think it necessary to take our wives out with us.Indeed, Lady Vandrift is absolutely wedded to the joys of London, and does not appreciate the rural delights of the Mediterranean littoral.But Sir Charles and I, though immersed in affairs when at home, both thoroughly enjoy the complete change from the City to the charming vegetation and pellucid air on the terrace at Monte Carlo.We are so fond of scenery.That delicious view over the rocks of Monaco, with the Maritime Alps in the rear, and the blue sea in front, not to mention the imposing Casino in the foreground, appeals to me as one of the most beautiful prospects in all Europe.Sir Charles has a sentimental attachment for the place.He fnds it restores and freshens him, after the turmoil of London, to win a few hundreds at roulette in the course of an afternoon among the palms and cactuses and pure breezes of Monte Carlo.The country, say I, for a jaded intellect！However, we never on any account actually stop in the Principality itself.Sir Charles thinks Monte Carlo is not a sound address for a fnancier’s letters.He prefers a comfortable hotel on the Promenade des Anglais at Nice, where he recovers health and renovates his nervous system by taking daily excursions along the coast to the Casino.

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This particular season we were snugly ensconced at the H?tel des Anglais.We had capital quarters on the first floor—salon, study, and bedrooms—and found on the spot a most agreeable cosmopolitan society.All Nice, just then, was ringing with talk about a curious impostor, known to his followers as the Great Mexican Seer, and supposed to be gifted with second sight, as well as with endless other supernatural powers.Now, it is a peculiarity of my able brother-in-law’s that, when he meets with a quack, he burns to expose him；he is so keen a man of business himself that it gives him, so to speak, a disinterested pleasure to unmask and detect imposture in others.Many ladies at the hotel, some of whom had met and conversed with the Mexican Seer, were constantly telling us strange stories of his doings.He had disclosed to one the present whereabouts of a runaway husband；he had pointed out to another the numbers that wouldwin at roulette next evening；he had shown a third the image on a screen of the man she had for years adored without his knowledge.Of course, Sir Charles didn’t believe a word of it；but his curiosity was roused；he wished to see and judge for himself of the wonderful thought-reader.

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“What would be his terms, do you think, for a private séance?”he asked of Madame Picardet, the lady to whom the Seer had successfully predicted the winning numbers.

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“He does not work for money，”Madame Picardet answered，“but for the good of humanity. I’m sure he would gladly come and exhibit for nothing his miraculous faculties.”

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“Nonsense！”Sir Charles answered.“The man must live. I’d pay him fve guineas, though, to see him alone.What hotel is he stopping at?”

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“The Cosmopolitan, I think，”the lady answered.“Oh no；I remember now, the Westminster.”

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Sir Charles turned to me quietly.“Look here, Seymour，”he whispered.“Go round to this fellow’s place immediately after dinner, and offer him fve pounds to give a private séance at once in my rooms, without mentioning who I am to him；keep the name quite quiet.Bring him back with you, too, and come straight upstairs with him, so that there may be no collusion.We’ll see just how much the fellow can tell us.”

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I went as directed. I found the Seer a very remarkable and interesting person.He stood about Sir Charles’s own height, but was slimmer and straighter, with an aquiline nose, strangely piercing eyes, very large black pupils, and a fnely-chiselled close-shaven face, like the bust of Antinous in our hall in Mayfair.What gave him his most characteristic touch, however, was his odd head of hair, curly and wavy like Paderewski’s, standing out in a halo round his high white forehead and his delicate profle.I could see at a glance why he succeeded so well in impressingwomen；he had the look of a poet, a singer, a prophet.

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“I have come round，”I said，“to ask whether you will consent to give a séance at once in a friend’s rooms；and my principal wishes me to add that he is prepared to pay fve pounds as the price of the entertainment.”

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Se?or Antonio Herrera—that was what he called himself—bowed to me with impressive Spanish politeness.His dusky olive cheeks were wrinkled with a smile of gentle contempt as he answered gravely—

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“I do not sell my gifts；I bestow them freely. If your friend—your anonymous friend—desires to behold the cosmic wonders that are wrought through my hands, I am glad to show them to him.Fortunately, as often happens when it is necessary to convince and confound a sceptic（for that your friend is a sceptic I feel instinctively），I chance to have no engagements at all this evening.”He ran his hand through his fine, long hair reflectively.“Yes, I go，”he continued, as if addressing some unknown presence that hovered about the ceiling；“I go；come with me！”Then he put on his broad sombrero, with its crimson ribbon, wrapped a cloak round his shoulders, lighted a cigarette, and strode forth by my side towards the H?tel des Anglais.

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He talked little by the way, and that little in curt sentences. He seemed buried in deep thought；indeed, when we reached the door and I turned in, he walked a step or two farther on, as if not noticing to what place I had brought him.Then he drew himself up short, and gazed around him for a moment.“Ha, the Anglais，”he said—and I may mention in passing that his English, in spite of a slight southern accent, was idiomatic and excellent.“It is here, then；it is here！”He was addressing once more the unseen presence.

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I smiled to think that these childish devices were intended to deceive Sir Charles Vandrift. Not quite the sort of man（as the City of Londonknows）to be taken in by hocus-pocus.And all this, I saw, was the cheapest and most commonplace conjurer’s patter.

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We went upstairs to our rooms. Charles had gathered together a few friends to watch the performance.The Seer entered, wrapt in thought.He was in evening dress, but a red sash round his waist gave a touch of picturesqueness and a dash of colour.He paused for a moment in the middle of the salon, without letting his eyes rest on anybody or anything.Then he walked straight up to Charles, and held out his dark hand.

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“Good-evening，”he said.“You are the host. My soul’s sight tells me so.”

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“Good shot，”Sir Charles answered.“These fellows have to be quick-witted, you know, Mrs. Mackenzie, or they’d never get on at it.”

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The Seer gazed about him, and smiled blankly at a person or two whose faces he seemed to recognise from a previous existence. Then Charles began to ask him a few simple questions, not about himself, but about me, just to test him.He answered most of them with surprising correctness.“His name?His name begins with an S I think：—You call him Seymour.”He paused long between each clause, as if the facts were revealed to him slowly.“Seymour—Wilbraham—Earl of Strafford.No, not Earl of Strafford！Seymour Wilbraham Wentworth.There seems to be some connection in somebody’s mind now present between Wentworth and Strafford.I am not English.I do not know what it means.But they are somehow the same name, Wentworth and Strafford.”

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He gazed around, apparently for confirmation. A lady came to his rescue.

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“Wentworth was the surname of the great Earl of Strafford，”she murmured gently；“and I was wondering, as you spoke, whether Mr. Wentworth might possibly be descended from him.”

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“He is，”the Seer replied instantly, with a flash of those dark eyes. And I thought this curious；for though my father always maintained the reality of the relationship, there was one link wanting to complete the pedigree.He could not make sure that the Hon.Thomas Wilbraham Wentworth was the father of Jonathan Wentworth, the Bristol horse-dealer, from whom we are descended.

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“Where was I born?”Sir Charles interrupted, coming suddenly to his own case.

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The Seer clapped his two hands to his forehead and held it between them, as if to prevent it from bursting.“Africa，”he said slowly, as the facts narrowed down, so to speak.“South Africa；Cape of Good Hope；Jansenville；De Witt Street. 1840.”

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“By Jove, he’s correct，”Sir Charles muttered.“He seems really to do it. Still, he may have found me out.He may have known where he was coming.”

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“I never gave a hint，”I answered；“till he reached the door, he didn’t even know to what hotel I was piloting him.”

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The Seer stroked his chin softly. His eye appeared to me to have a furtive gleam in it.“Would you like me to tell you the number of a bank-note inclosed in an envelope?”he asked casually.

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“Go out of the room，”Sir Charles said，“while I pass it round the company.”

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Se?or Herrera disappeared.Sir Charles passed it round cautiously, holding it all the time in his own hand, but letting his guests see the number.Then he placed it in an envelope and gummed it down frmly.

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The Seer returned. His keen eyes swept the company with a comprehensive glance.He shook his shaggy mane.Then he took the envelope in his hands and gazed at it fxedly.“AF，73549，”he answered, in a slow tone.“A Bank of England note for ffty pounds—exchanged at the Casino for gold won yesterday at Monte Carlo.”

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“I see how he did that，”Sir Charles said triumphantly.“He must have changed it there himself；and then I changed it back again. In point of fact, I remember seeing a fellow with long hair loafng about.Still, it’s capital conjuring.”

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“He can see through matter，”one of the ladies interposed. It was Madame Picardet.“He can see through a box.”She drew a little gold vinaigrette, such as our grandmothers used, from her dress-pocket.“What is in this?”she inquired, holding it up to him.

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Se?or Herrera gazed through it.“Three gold coins，”he replied, knitting his brows with the effort of seeing into the box：“one, an American fve dollars；one, a French ten-franc piece；one, twenty marks, German, of the old Emperor William.”

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She opened the box and passed it round. Sir Charles smiled a quiet smile.

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“Confederacy！”he muttered, half to himself.“Confederacy！”

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The Seer turned to him with a sullen air.“You want a better sign?”he said, in a very impressive voice.“A sign that will convince you！Very well：you have a letter in your left waistcoat pocket—a crumpled-up letter. Do you wish me to read it out?I will, if you desire it.”

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It may seem to those who know Sir Charles incredible, but, I am bound to admit, my brother-in-law coloured. What that letter contained I cannot say；he only answered, very testily and evasively，“No, thank you；I won’t trouble you.The exhibition you have already given us of your skill in this kind more than amply suffces.”And his fngers strayed nervously to his waistcoat pocket, as if he was half afraid, even then, Se?or Herrera would read it.

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I fancied, too, he glanced somewhat anxiously towards Madame Picardet.

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The Seer bowed courteously.“Your will, se?or, is law，”he said.“I make it a principle, though I can see through all things, invariably to respect the secrecies and sanctities.If it were not so, I might dissolve society.For which of us is there who could bear the whole truth being told about him?”He gazed around the room.An unpleasant thrill supervened.Most of us felt this uncanny Spanish American knew really too much.And some of us were engaged in fnancial operations.

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“For example，”the Seer continued blandly，“I happened a few weeks ago to travel down here from Paris by train with a very intelligent man, a company promoter. He had in his bag some documents—some confdential documents.”He glanced at Sir Charles.“You know the kind of thing, my dear sir：reports from experts—from mining engineers.You may have seen some such；marked strictly private.”

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“They form an element in high fnance，”Sir Charles admitted coldly.

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“Pre-cisely，”the Seer murmured, his accent for a moment less Spanish than before.“And, as they were marked strictly private, I respect, of course, the seal of confdence. That’s all I wish to say.I hold it a duty, being intrusted with such powers, not to use them in a manner which may annoy or incommode my fellow-creatures.”

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“Your feeling does you honour，”Sir Charles answered, with some acerbity. Then he whispered in my ear：“Confounded clever scoundrel, Sey；rather wish we hadn’t brought him here.”

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Se?or Herrera seemed intuitively to divine this wish, for he interposed, in a lighter and gayer tone—

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“I will now show you a different and more interesting embodiment of occult power, for which we shall need a somewhat subdued arrangementof surrounding lights. Would you mind, se?or host—for I have purposely abstained from reading your name on the brain of any one present—would you mind my turning down this lamp just a little?……So！That will do.Now, this one；and this one.Exactly！That’s right.”He poured a few grains of powder out of a packet into a saucer.“Next, a match, if you please.Thank you！”It burnt with a strange green light.He drew from his pocket a card, and produced a little ink-bottle.“Have you a pen?”he asked.

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I instantly brought one. He handed it to Sir Charles.“Oblige me，”he said，“by writing your name there.”And he indicated a place in the centre of the card, which had an embossed edge, with a small middle square of a different colour.

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Sir Charles has a natural disinclination to signing his name without knowing why.“What do you want with it?”he asked.（A millionaire’s signature has so many uses.）

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“I want you to put the card in an envelope，”the Seer replied，“and then to burn it. After that, I shall show you your own name written in letters of blood on my arm, in your own handwriting.”

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Sir Charles took the pen. If the signature was to be burned as soon as fnished, he didn’t mind giving it.He wrote his name in his usual frm clear style—the writing of a man who knows his worth and is not afraid of drawing a cheque for fve thousand.

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“Look at it long，”the Seer said, from the other side of the room. He had not watched him write it.

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Sir Charles stared at it fixedly. The Seer was really beginning to produce an impression.

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“Now, put it in that envelope，”the Seer exclaimed.

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Sir Charles, like a lamb, placed it as directed.

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The Seer strode forward.“Give me the envelope，”he said. He took it in his hand, walked over towards the freplace, and solemnly burnt it.“See—it crumbles into ashes，”he cried.Then he came back to the middle of the room, close to the green light, rolled up his sleeve, and held his arm before Sir Charles.There, in blood-red letters, my brother-in-law read the name，“Charles Vandrift，”in his own handwriting！

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“I see how that’s done，”Sir Charles murmured, drawing back.“It’s a clever delusion；but still, I see through it. It’s like that ghost-book.Your ink was deep green；your light was green；you made me look at it long；and then I saw the same thing written on the skin of your arm in complementary colours.”

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“You think so?”the Seer replied, with a curious curl of the lip.

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“I’m sure of it，”Sir Charles answered.

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Quick as lightning the Seer again rolled up his sleeve.“That’s your name，”he cried, in a very clear voice，“but not your whole name. What do you say, then, to my right?Is this one also a complementary colour?”He held his other arm out.There, in sea-green letters, I read the name，“Charles O’Sullivan Vandrift.”It is my brother-in-law’s full baptismal designation；but he has dropped the O’Sullivan for many years past, and, to say the truth, doesn’t like it.He is a little bit ashamed of his mother’s family.

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Charles glanced at it hurriedly.“Quite right，”he said，“quite right！”But his voice was hollow. I could guess he didn’t care to continue the séance.He could see through the man, of course；but it was clear the fellow knew too much about us to be entirely pleasant.

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“Turn up the lights，”I said, and a servant turned them.“Shall I say coffee and benedictine?”I whispered to Vandrift.

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“By all means，”he answered.“Anything to keep this fellow from further impertinences！And, I say, don’t you think you’d better suggest atthe same time that the men should smoke?Even these ladies are not above a cigarette—some of them.”

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There was a sigh of relief. The lights burned brightly.The Seer for the moment retired from business, so to speak.He accepted a partaga with a very good grace, sipped his coffee in a corner, and chatted to the lady who had suggested Strafford with marked politeness.He was a polished gentleman.

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Next morning, in the hall of the hotel, I saw Madame Picardet again, in a neat tailor-made travelling dress, evidently bound for the railway-station.

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“What, off, Madame Picardet?”I cried.

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She smiled, and held out her prettily-gloved hand.“Yes, I’m off，”she answered archly.“Florence, or Rome, or somewhere. I’ve drained Nice dry—like a sucked orange.Got all the fun I can out of it.Now I’m away again to my beloved Italy.”

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But it struck me as odd that, if Italy was her game, she went by the omnibus which takes down to the train de luxe for Paris. However, a man of the world accepts what a lady tells him, no matter how improbable；and I confess, for ten days or so, I thought no more about her, or the Seer either.

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At the end of that time our fortnightly pass-book came in from the bank in London. It is part of my duty, as the millionaire’s secretary, to make up this book once a fortnight, and to compare the cancelled cheques with Sir Charles’s counterfoils.On this particular occasion I happened to observe what I can only describe as a very grave discrepancy，—in fact, a discrepancy of 5，000 pounds.On the wrong side, too.Sir Charles was debited with 5，000 pounds more than the total amount that was shown on the counterfoils.

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I examined the book with care. The source of the error was obvious.It lay in a cheque to Self or Bearer, for 5，000 pounds, signed by Sir Charles, and evidently paid across the counter in London, as it bore on its face no stamp or indication of any other offce.

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I called in my brother-in-law from the salon to the study.“Look here, Charles，”I said，“there’s a cheque in the book which you haven’t entered.”And I handed it to him without comment, for I thought it might have been drawn to settle some little loss on the turf or at cards, or to make up some other affair he didn’t desire to mention to me. These things will happen.

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He looked at it and stared hard. Then he pursed up his mouth and gave a long low“Whew！”At last he turned it over and remarked，“I say, Sey, my boy, we’ve just been done jolly well brown, haven’t we?”

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I glanced at the cheque.“How do you mean?”I inquired.

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“Why, the Seer，”he replied, still staring at it ruefully.“I don’t mind the fve thou.，but to think the fellow should have gammoned the pair of us like that—ignominious, I call it！”

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“How do you know it’s the Seer?”I asked.

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“Look at the green ink，”he answered.“Besides, I recollect the very shape of the last fourish. I fourished a bit like that in the excitement of the moment, which I don’t always do with my regular signature.”

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“He’s done us，”I answered, recognising it.“But how the dickens did he manage to transfer it to the cheque?This looks like your own handwriting, Charles, not a clever forgery.”

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“It is，”he said.“I admit it—I can’t deny it. Only fancy his bamboozling me when I was most on my guard！I wasn’t to be taken in by any of his silly occult tricks and catch-words；but it never occurred to me he was going to victimise me fnancially in this way.I expected attempts at a loan or an extortion；but to collar my signature to a blank cheque—atrocious！”“How did he manage it?”I asked.

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“I haven’t the faintest conception. I only know those are the words I wrote.I could swear to them anywhere.”

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“Then you can’t protest the cheque?”

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“Unfortunately, no；it’s my own true signature.”

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We went that afternoon without delay to see the Chief Commissary of Police at the office. He was a gentlemanly Frenchman, much less formal and red-tapey than usual, and he spoke excellent English with an American accent, having acted, in fact, as a detective in New York for about ten years in his early manhood.

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“I guess，”he said slowly, after hearing our story，“you’ve been victimised right here by Colonel Clay, gentlemen.”

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“Who is Colonel Clay?”Sir Charles asked.

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“That’s just what I want to know，”the Commissary answered, in his curious American-French-English.“He is a Colonel, because he occasionally gives himself a commission；he is called Colonel Clay, because he appears to possess an india-rubber face, and he can mould it like clay in the hands of the potter. Real name, unknown.Nationality, equally French and English.Address, usually Europe.Profession, former maker of wax figures to the Museé Grévin.Age, what he chooses.Employs his knowledge to mould his own nose and cheeks, with wax additions, to the character he desires to personate.Aquiline this time, you say.Hein！Anything like these photographs?”

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He rummaged in his desk and handed us two.

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“Not in the least，”Sir Charles answered.“Except, perhaps, as to the neck, everything here is quite unlike him.”

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“Then that’s the Colonel！”the Commissary answered, with decision, rubbing his hands in glee.“Look here，”and he took out a pencil andrapidly sketched the outline of one of the two faces—that of a bland-looking young man, with no expression worth mentioning.“There’s the Colonel in his simple disguise. Very good.Now watch me：fgure to yourself that he adds here a tiny patch of wax to his nose—an aquiline bridge—just so；well, you have him right there；and the chin, ah, one touch；now, for hair, a wig；for complexion, nothing easier：that’s the profle of your rascal, isn’t it?”

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“Exactly，”we both murmured. By two curves of the pencil, and a shock of false hair, the face was transmuted.

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“He had very large eyes, with very big pupils, though，”I objected, looking close；“and the man in the photograph here has them small and boiled-fshy.”

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“That’s so，”the Commissary answered.“A drop of belladonna expands—and produces the Seer；fve grains of opium contract—and give a dead-alive, stupidly-innocent appearance. Well, you leave this affair to me, gentlemen.I’ll see the fun out.I don’t say I’ll catch him for you；nobody ever yet has caught Colonel Clay；but I’ll explain how he did the trick；and that ought to be consolation enough to a man of your means for a trife of fve thousand！”

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“You are not the conventional French offce-holder, M. le Commissaire，”I ventured to interpose.

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“You bet！”the Commissary replied, and drew himself up like a captain of infantry.“Messieurs，”he continued, in French, with the utmost dignity，“I shall devote the resources of this offce to tracing out the crime, and, if possible, to effectuating the arrest of the culpable.”

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We telegraphed to London, of course, and we wrote to the bank, with a full description of the suspected person. But I need hardly add that nothing came of it.

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Three days later the Commissary called at our hotel.“Well, gentlemen，”he said，“I am glad to say I have discovered everything！”

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“What?Arrested the Seer?”Sir Charles cried.

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The Commissary drew back, almost horrifed at the suggestion.

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“Arrested Colonel Clay?”he exclaimed.“Mais, monsieur, we are only human！Arrested him?No, not quite. But tracked out how he did it.That is already much—to unravel Colonel Clay, gentlemen！”

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“Well, what do you make of it?”Sir Charles asked, crestfallen.

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The Commissary sat down and gloated over his discovery. It was clear a well-planned crime amused him vastly.“In the first place, monsieur，”he said，“disabuse your mind of the idea that when monsieur your secretary went out to fetch Se?or Herrera that night, Se?or Herrera didn’t know to whose rooms he was coming.Quite otherwise, in point of fact.I do not doubt myself that Se?or Herrera, or Colonel Clay（call him which you like），came to Nice this winter for no other purpose than just to rob you.”

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“But I sent for him，”my brother-in-law interposed.

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“Yes；he meant you to send for him. He forced a card, so to speak.If he couldn’t do that I guess he would be a pretty poor conjurer.He had a lady of his own—his wife, let us say, or his sister—stopping here at this hotel；a certain Madame Picardet.Through her he induced several ladies of your circle to attend his séances.She and they spoke to you about him, and aroused your curiosity.You may bet your bottom dollar that when he came to this room he came ready primed and prepared with endless facts about both of you.”

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“What fools we have been, Sey，”my brother-in-law exclaimed.“I see it all now. That designing woman sent round before dinner to say I wanted to meet him；and by the time you got there he was ready forbamboozling me.”

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“That’s so，”the Commissary answered.“He had your name ready painted on both his arms；and he had made other preparations of still greater importance.”

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“You mean the cheque. Well, how did he get it?”

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The Commissary opened the door.“Come in，”he said. And a young man entered whom we recognised at once as the chief clerk in the Foreign Department of the Crédit Marseillais, the principal bank all along the Riviera.

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“State what you know of this cheque，”the Commissary said, showing it to him, for we had handed it over to the police as a piece of evidence.

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“About four weeks since—”the clerk began.

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“Say ten days before your séance，”the Commissary interposed.

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“A gentleman with very long hair and an aquiline nose, dark, strange, and handsome, called in at my department and asked if I could tell him the name of Sir Charles Vandrift’s London banker. He said he had a sum to pay in to your credit, and asked if we would forward it for him.I told him it was irregular for us to receive the money, as you had no account with us, but that your London bankers were Darby, Drummond, and Rothenberg, Limited.”

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“Quite right，”Sir Charles murmured.

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“Two days later a lady, Madame Picardet, who was a customer of ours, brought in a good cheque for three hundred pounds, signed by a frst-rate name, and asked us to pay it in on her behalf to Darby, Drummond, and Rothenberg’s, and to open a London account with them for her. We did so, and received in reply a cheque-book.”

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“From which this cheque was taken, as I learn from the number, by telegram from London，”the Commissary put in.“Also, that on the sameday on which your cheque was cashed, Madame Picardet, in London, withdrew her balance.”

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“But how did the fellow get me to sign the cheque?”Sir Charles cried.“How did he manage the card trick?”

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The Commissary produced a similar card from his pocket.“Was that the sort of thing?”he asked.

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“Precisely！A facsimile.”

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“I thought so. Well, our Colonel, I find, bought a packet of such cards, intended for admission to a religious function, at a shop in the Quai Masséna.He cut out the centre, and, see here—”The Commissary turned it over, and showed a piece of paper pasted neatly over the back；this he tore off, and there, concealed behind it, lay a folded cheque, with only the place where the signature should be written showing through on the face which the Seer had presented to us.“I call that a neat trick，”the Commissary remarked, with professional enjoyment of a really good deception.

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“But he burnt the envelope before my eyes，”Sir Charles exclaimed.

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“Pooh！”the Commissary answered.“What would he be worth as a conjurer, anyway, if he couldn’t substitute one envelope for another between the table and the freplace without your noticing it?And Colonel Clay, you must remember, is a prince among conjurers.”

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“Well, it’s a comfort to know we’ve identified our man, and the woman who was with him，”Sir Charles said, with a slight sigh of relief.“The next thing will be, of course, you’ll follow them up on these clues in England and arrest them?”

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The Commissary shrugged his shoulders.“Arrest them！”he exclaimed, much amused.“Ah, monsieur, but you are sanguine！No offcer of justice has ever succeeded in arresting le Colonel Caoutchouc, as we call him in French. He is as slippery as an eel, that man.He wriggles through our fngers.Suppose even we caught him, what could we prove?I ask you.Nobody who has seen him once can ever swear to him again in his next impersonation.He is impayable, this good Colonel.On the day when I arrest him, I assure you, monsieur, I shall consider myself the smartest police-offcer in Europe.”

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“Well, I shall catch him yet，”Sir Charles answered, and relapsed into silence.

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序号 英文/音标 中文解释 更多操作

unremunerative

[’ʌnrɪ’mjuːnərətɪv]

adj.无报酬的;无利可获的

syndicate

[’sɪndɪkət]

n.企业联合

excursion

[ɪk’skɜːʃn]

n.远足;短途旅行;【物】偏移，漂移，偏离;偏差，偏振

rousing

[’raʊzɪŋ]

adj.使奋起的;使感动的;使醒的,

Seer

[sɪə(r)]

n.预言者;先知;占卜者;观看者

miraculous

[mɪ’rækjələs]

adj.奇迹的;不可思议的

Westminster

[’westmɪnstə(r)]

威斯敏斯特

collusion

[kə’luːʒn]

n.共谋;勾结

prophet

[’prɒfɪt]

n.预言者;先知

contempt

[kən’tempt]

n.轻视;轻蔑

cloak

[kləʊk]

n.斗蓬;宽大外衣;掩盖物

unseen

[ˌʌn’siːn]

adj.未看见的;即席的

patter

[’pætə(r)]

n.急速拍打声;轻快脚步声;行话;顺口溜

salon

[’sælɒn]

n.美容院;沙龙;美术展览馆;客厅

clause

[klɔːz]

n.条款;【语】从句

murmur

[’mɜːmə(r)]

n. 低沉连续的声音(如风的沙沙声、流水的淙淙声等);

Jonathan

[ˈʤɒnəθən]

n.乔纳森,红玉

Cape

[keɪp]

n.岬;海角

Jove

[dʒəʊv]

n.【罗神】朱庇特.

gleam

[ɡliːm]

v.闪烁;隐约地闪现

gum

[ɡʌm]

n.粘性物质

Monte

[’mɒntɪ]

n.(西班牙的)纸牌赌博游戏

conjure

[’kʌndʒə]

v.变戏法;恳求;唤起;以咒文召唤

vinaigrette

[ˌvɪnɪ’ɡret]

n.香料饰盒;香料嗅瓶;色拉调味汁(用油、醋和各种香草等混合而成)

Emperor

[’empərə(r)]

n.皇帝

Confederacy

[kən’fedərəsɪ]

n.同盟;联邦;共谋

waistcoat

[’weɪskəʊt]

n.背心;马甲

Madame

[’mædəm]

n.夫人

uncanny

[ʌn’kæni]

adj.神秘的;不可思议的

Paris

[’pærɪs]

n.巴黎;重楼(百合科植物);帕里斯(姓氏)

incommode

[ˌɪnkə’məʊd]

vt.(使)感不便;添麻烦;打扰

scoundrel

[’skaʊndrəl]

n.无赖

gay

[ɡeɪ]

n.同性恋(多指男同性恋)

saucer

[’sɔːsə(r)]

n.茶托;碟子

emboss

[ɪm’bɒs]

vt.加浮雕花纹于;使凸出;装饰

disinclination

[ˌdɪsˌɪnklɪ’neɪʃn]

n.不情愿;勉强;不感兴趣;厌恶

complementary

[ˌkɒmplɪ’mentri]

adj.补充的;互补的

curl

[kɜːl]

n.卷曲;卷发;年轮;漩涡;【足】曲线球

past

[pɑːst]

a. 过去的;

benedictine

[ˌbenɪ’dɪktɪn]

n.圣本笃修会修士;法国产的一种甜酒

impertinence

[ɪm’pɜːtɪnəns]

n.无礼;鲁莽;不恰当

politeness

[pə’laɪtnəs]

n.礼貌;优雅

beloved

[bɪ’lʌvd]

adj.心爱的

counterfoil

[’kaʊntəfɔɪl]

n.(支票;收据等的)存根;票根

stamp

[stæmp]

【1】 n.邮票; 图章【2】v.盖邮戳,盖印章

turf

[tɜːf]

n.草皮;泥炭;赛马场;赛马

jolly

[’dʒɒli]

a. 欢乐的；兴高采烈的；快活的;

ignominious

[ˌɪɡnə’mɪniəs]

adj.可耻的;不名誉的

recollect

[ˌrekə’lekt]

v.回忆;回想;记起

forgery

[’fɔːdʒəri]

n.伪造;伪造罪;伪造物

atrocious

[ə’trəʊʃəs]

adj.残暴的;骇人听闻的;糟透的

faintest

[feɪnt]

最微弱的;极无力的

manhood

[’mænhʊd]

n.成年;勇气;男子气概

Colonel

[’kɜːnl]

n.上校

Aquiline

[’ækwɪlaɪn]

adj.鹰的;似鹰的;钩状的

rummage

[’rʌmɪdʒ]

v.到处翻寻;搜出;检查

rascal

[’rɑːskl]

n.淘气鬼;流氓;坏蛋

transmute

[trænz’mjuːt]

v.使 ... 变形

consolation

[ˌkɒnsə’leɪʃn]

n.安慰;慰藉

interpose

[ˌɪntə’pəʊz]

v.插入;插嘴;介入;调停

culpable

[’kʌlpəbl]

adj.该责备的;有罪的

telegraph

[’telɪɡrɑːf]

n.电报

Commissary

[’kɒmɪsəri]

n.军粮供应

crestfallen

[’krestfɔːlən]

adj.垂头丧气的;气馁的

arouse

[ə’raʊz]

v.叫醒;唤醒;激起;睡醒

Riviera

[ˌrɪvi’eərə]

n.里维埃拉(南欧地中海沿岸一度假胜地)

irregular

[ɪ’reɡjələ(r)]

adj.不规则的;不整齐的;不合法的;不合规矩的

facsimile

[fæk’sɪməli]

n.摹本;传真

deception

[dɪ’sepʃn]

n.骗局;诡计;欺诈

monsieur

[mə’sjɜː]

n.(法语)先生

relapse

[rɪ’læps]

v.复发;再陷入;故态复萌

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