the lodger-第28章

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at　cold　experiment…room；　as　he　now　always　called　it。

But　her　husband　went　on　as　if　he　had　not　heard　her；　and　she　gave　up　trying　to　listen　to　what　was　going　on　above。

〃It　wouldn't　be　very　pleasant　to　run　up　against　such　a　party　as　that　in　the　fog；　eh；　Ellen？〃　　He　spoke　as　if　the　notion　had　a　certain　pleasant　thrill　in　it　after　all。

〃What　stuff　you　do　talk！〃　said　Mrs。　Bunting　sharply。　　And　then　she　got　up。　　Her　husband's　remarks　had　disturbed　her。　　Why　couldn't　they　talk　of　something　pleasant　when　they　did　have　a　quiet　bit　of　time　together？

Bunting　looked　down　again　at　his　paper；　and　she　moved　quietly　about　the　room。　　Very　soon　it　would　be　time　for　supper；　and　to…night　she　was　going　to　cook　her　husband　a　nice　piece　of　toasted　cheese。　　That　fortunate　man；　as　she　was　fond　of　telling　him；　with　mingled　contempt　and　envy；　had　the　digestion　of　an　ostrich；　and　yet　he　was　rather　fanciful；　as　gentlemen's　servants　who　have　lived　in　good　places　often　are。

Yes；　Bunting　was　very　lucky　in　the　matter　of　his　digestion。　　Mrs。　Bunting　prided　herself　on　having　a　nice　mind；　and　she　would　never　have　allowed　an　unrefined　word　…　such　a　word　as　〃stomach；〃　for　instance；　to　say　nothing　of　an　even　plainer　term　…　to　pass　her　lips；　except；　of　course；　to　a　doctor　in　a　sick…room。

Mr。　Sleuth's　landlady　did　not　go　down　at　once　into　her　cold　kitchen；　instead；　with　a　sudden　furtive　movement；　she　opened　the　door　leading　into　her　bedroom；　and　then；　closing　the　door　quietly；　stepped　back　into　the　darkness；　and　stood　motionless；　listening。

At　first　she　heard　nothing；　but　gradually　there　stole　on　her　listening　ears　the　sound　of　someone　moving　softly　about　in　the　room　just　overhead；　that　is；　in　Mr。　Sleuth's　bedroom。　　But；　try　as　she　might；　it　was　impossible　for　her　to　guess　what　the　lodger　was　doing。

At　last　she　heard　him　open　the　door　leading　out　on　the　little　landing。　　She　could　hear　the　stairs　creaking。　　That　meant；　no　doubt；　that　Mr。　Sleuth　would　pass　the　rest　of　the　evening　in　the　cheerless　room　above。　　He　hadn't　spent　any　time　up　there　for　quite　a　long　while…in　fact；　not　for　nearly　ten　days。　　'Twas　odd　he　chose　to…night；　when　it　was　so　foggy；　to　carry　out　an　experiment。

She　groped　her　way　to　a　chair　and　sat　down。　　She　felt　very　tired　…　　strangely　tired；　as　if　　she　had　gone　through　some　great　physical　exertion。

Yes；　it　was　true　that　Mr。　Sleuth　had　brought　her　and　Bunting　luck；　and　it　was　wrong；　very　wrong；　of　her　ever　to　forget　that。

As　she　sat　there　she　also　reminded　herself；　and　not　for　the　first　time；　what　the　lodger's　departure　would　mean。　　It　would　almost　certainly　mean　ruin；　just　as　his　staying　meant　all　sorts　of　good　things；　of　which　physical　comfort　was　the　least。　If　Mr。　Sleuth　stayed　on　with　them；　as　he　showed　every　intention　of　doing；　it　meant　respectability；　and；　above　all；　security。

Mrs。　Bunting　thought　of　Mr。　Sleuth's　money。　　He　never　received　a　letter；　and　yet　he　must　have　some　kind　of　income　…　so　much　was　clear。　　She　supposed　he　went　and　drew　his　money；　in　sovereigns；　out　of　a　bank　as　he　required　it。

Her　mind　swung　round；　consciously；　deliberately；　away　from　Mr。　Sleuth。

The　Avenger？　　What　a　strange　name！　　Again　she　assured　herself　that　there　would　come　a　time　when　The　Avenger；　whoever　he　was；　must　feel　satiated；　when　he　would　feel　himself　to　be；　so　to　speak；　avenged。

To　go　back　to　Mr。　Sleuth；　it　was　lucky　that　the　lodger　seemed　so　pleased；　not　only　with　the　rooms；　but　with　his　landlord　and　landlady　　…　indeed；　there　was　no　real　reason　why　Mr。　Sleuth　should　ever　wish　to　leave　such　nice　lodgings。　　　　　******

Mrs。　Bunting　suddenly　stood　up。　　She　made　a　strong　effort；　and　shook　off　her　awful　sense　of　apprehension　and　unease。　　Feeling　for　the　handle　of　the　door　giving　into　the　passage　she　turned　it；　and　then；　with　light；　firm　steps；　she　went　down　into　the　kitchen。

When　they　had　first　taken　the　house；　the　basement　had　been　made　by　her　care；　if　not　into　a　pleasant；　then；　at　any　rate；　into　a　very　clean　place。　　She　had　had　it　whitewashed；　and　against　the　still　white　walls　the　gas　stove　loomed　up；　a　great　square　of　black　iron　and　bright　steel。　　It　was　a　large　gas…stove；　the　kind　for　which　one　pays　four　shillings　a　quarter　rent　to　the　gas　company；　and　here；　in　the　kitchen；　there　was　no　foolish　shilling…in…the…slot　arrangement。　Mrs。　Bunting　was　too　shrewd　a　woman　to　have　anything　to　do　with　that　kind　of　business。　　There　was　a　proper　gas…meter；　and　she　paid　for　what　she　consumed　after　she　had　consumed　it。

Putting　her　candle　down　on　the　well…scrubbed　wooden　table；　she　turned　up　the　gas…jet；　and　blew　out　the　candle。

Then；　lighting　one　of　the　gas…rings；　she　put　a　frying…pan　on　the　stove；　and　once　more　her　mind　reverted；　as　if　in　spite　of　herself；　to　Mr。　Sleuth。　　Never　had　there　been　a　more　confiding　or　trusting　gentleman　than　the　lodger；　and　yet　in　some　ways　he　was　so　secret；　so　…　so　peculiar。

She　thought　of　the　bag　…　that　bag　which　had　rumbled　about　so　queerly　in　the　chiffonnier。　　Something　seemed　to　tell　her　that　tonight　the　lodger　had　taken　that　bag　out　with　him。

And　then　she　thrust　away　the　thought　of　the　bag　almost　violently　from　her　mind；　and　went　back　to　the　more　agreeable　thought　of　Mr。　Sleuth's　income；　and　of　how　little　trouble　he　gave。　　Of　course；　the　lodger　was　eccentric；　otherwise　he　wouldn't　be　their　lodger　at　all　…　he　would　be　living　in　quite　a　different　sort　of　way　with　some　of　his　relations；　or　with　a　friend　in　his　own　class。

While　these　thoughts　galloped　disconnectedly　through　her　mind；　Mrs。　Bunting　went　on　with　her　cooking；　preparing　the　cheese；　cutting　it　up　into　little　shreds；　carefully　measuring　out　the　butter；　doing　everything；　as　was　always　her　way；　with　a　certain　delicate　and　cleanly　precision。

And　then；　while　in　the　middle　of　toasting　the　bread　on　which　was　to　be　poured　the　melted　cheese；　she　suddenly　heard　sounds　which　startled　her；　made　her　feel　uncomfortable。

Shuffling；　hesitating　steps　were　creaking　down　the　house。

She　looked　up　and　listened。

Surely　the　lodger　was　not　going　out　again　into　the　cold　and　foggy　night　…　going　out；　as　he　had　done　the　other　evening；　for　a　second　time？　　But　no；　the　sounds　she　heard；　the　sounds　of　now　familiar　footsteps；　did　not　continue　down　the　passage　leading　to　the　front　door。

Instead　…　　Why；　what　was　this　she　heard　now？　　She　began　to　listen　so　intently　that　the　bread　she　was　holding　at　the　end　of　the　toasting…fork　grew　quite　black。　　With　a　start　she　became　aware　that　this　was　so；　and　she　frowned；　vexed　with　herself。　　That　came　of　not　attending　to　one's　work。

Mr。　Sleuth　was　evidently　about　to　do　what　he　had　never　yet　done。　He　was　coming　down　into　the　kitchen。

Nearer　and　nearer　came　the　thudding　sounds；　treading　heavily　on　the　kitchen　stairs；　and　Mrs。　Bunting's　heart　began　to　beat　as　if　in　response。　　She　put　out　the　flame　of　the　gas…ring；　unheedful　of　the　fact　that　the　cheese　would　stiffen　and　spoil　in　the　cold　air。

Then　she　turned　and　faced　the　door。

There　came　a　fumbling　at　the　handle；　and　a　moment　later　the　door　opened；　and　revealed；　as　she　had　at　once　known　and　feared　it　would　do；　the　lodger。

Mr。　Sleuth　looked　even　odder　than　usual。　　He　was　clad　in　a　plaid　dressing…gown；　which　she　had　never　seen　him　wear　before；　though　she　knew　that　he　had　purchased　it　not　long　after　his　arrival。　　In　his　hand　was　a　lighted　candle。

When　he　saw　the　kitchen　all　lighted　up；　and　the　woman　standing　in　it；　the　lodger　looked　inexplicably　taken　aback；　almost　aghast。

〃Yes；　sir？　　What　can　I　do　for　you；　sir？　　I　hope　you　didn't　ring；　sir？〃

Mrs。　Bunting　held　her　ground　in　front　of　the　stove。　　Mr。　Sleuth　had　no　business　to　come　like　this　into　her　kitchen；　and　she　intended　to　let　him　know　that　such　was　her　view。

〃No；　I　…　I　didn't　ring；〃　he　stammered　awkwardly。　　〃The　truth　is；　I　didn't　know　you　were　here；　Mrs。　Bunting。　　Please　excuse　my　costume。　My　gas…stove　has　gone　wrong；　or；　rather；　that　shilling…in…the…slot　arrangement　has　done　so。　　So　I　came　down　to　see　if　you　had　a　gas…stove。　　I　am　going　to　ask　you　to　allow　me　to　use　it　to…night　for　an　important　experiment　I　wish　to　make。〃

Mrs。　Bunting's　heart　was　beating　quickly　…　quickly。　　She　felt　horribly　troubled；　unnaturally　so。　　Why　couldn't　Mr。　Sleuth's　experiment　wait　till　the　morning？　　She