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Seven
I
A fter breakfast, Emily Brent had suggested to Vera Claythorne that they should walk to the
summit again and watch for the boat. Vera had acquiesced1.
fishing boats out—and no sign of the motorboat.
Emily Brent said:
“The man who brought us out yesterday seemed a dependable sort of person. It is really
very odd that he should be so late this morning.”
Vera did not answer. She was fighting down a rising feeling of panic.
She said to herself angrily:
“You must keep cool. This isn’t like you. You’ve always had excellent nerves.”
Aloud she said after a minute or two:
“I wish he would come. I—I want to get away.”
Emily Brent said dryly:
“I’ve no doubt we all do.”
Vera said:
“It’s all so extraordinary … There seems no—no meaning in it all.”
The elderly woman beside her said briskly:
“I’m very annoyed with myself for being so easily taken in. Really that letter is absurd
when one comes to examine it. But I had no doubts at the time—none at all.”
Vera murmured mechanically: “I suppose not.”
“One takes things for granted too much,” said Emily Brent.
Vera drew a deep shuddering5 breath.
She said:
“Do you really think—what you said at breakfast?”
“Be a little more precise, my dear. To what in particular are you referring?”
Vera said in a low voice:
“Do you really think that Rogers and his wife did away with that old lady?”
Emily Brent gazed thoughtfully out to sea. Then she said:
“Personally, I am quite sure of it. What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
Emily Brent said:
“Everything goes to support the idea. The way the woman fainted. And the man dropped
afraid they did it.”
Vera said:
“The way she looked—scared of her own shadow! I’ve never seen a woman look so
frightened … She must have been always haunted by it….”
Miss Brent murmured:
“I remember a text that hung in my nursery as a child. ‘Be sure thy sin will find thee out.’
It’s very true, that. Be sure thy sin will find thee out.”
“But, Miss Brent—Miss Brent—in that case—”
“Yes, my dear?”
“The others? What about the others?”
“I don’t quite understand you.”
“All the other accusations8—they—they weren’t true? But if it’s true about the Rogerses—”
Emily Brent’s brow, which had been frowning perplexedly, cleared.
She said:
“Ah, I understand you now. Well, there is that Mr. Lombard. He admits to having
abandoned twenty men to their deaths.”
Vera said: “They were only natives….”
Emily Brent said sharply:
“Black or white, they are our brothers.”
Vera thought:
“Our black brothers—our black brothers. Oh, I’m going to laugh. I’m hysterical10. I’m not
myself….”
Emily Brent continued thoughtfully.
“Of course, some of the other accusations were very far fetched and ridiculous. Against the
judge, for instance, who was only doing his duty in his public capacity. And the ex-Scotland
Yard man. My own case, too.”
She paused and then went on:
“Naturally, considering the circumstances, I was not going to say anything last night. It
was not a fit subject to discuss before gentlemen.”
“No?”
“Beatrice Taylor was in service with me. Not a nice girl—as I found out too late. I was
very much deceived in her. She had nice manners and was very clean and willing. I was very
morals. Disgusting! It was some time before I found out that she was what they call ‘in
trouble.’” She paused, her delicate nose wrinkling itself in distaste. “It was a great shock to me.
Vera said, staring at Miss Brent:
“What happened?”
Vera said in a lower voice:
“What happened—to her?”
Miss Brent said:
“The abandoned creature, not content with having one sin on her conscience, committed a
still graver sin. She took her own life.”
Vera whispered, horror-struck:
“She killed herself?”
“Yes, she threw herself into the river.”
Vera shivered.
She stared at the calm delicate profile of Miss Brent. She said:
“What did you feel like when you knew she’d done that? Weren’t you sorry? Didn’t you
blame yourself?”
Emily Brent drew herself up.
“I? I had nothing with which to reproach myself.”
Vera said:
“But if your—hardness—drove her to it.”
Emily Brent said sharply:
“Her own action—her own sin—that was what drove her to it. If she had behaved like a
decent modest young woman none of this would have happened.”
She turned her face to Vera. There was no self-reproach, no uneasiness in those eyes. They
were hard and self-righteous. Emily Brent sat on the summit of Soldier Island, encased in her
The little elderly spinster was no longer slightly ridiculous to Vera.
Suddenly—she was terrible.
第七章
1
吃过早餐，布伦特叫上维拉和她一起去岛的最高处，看看船来了没有。维拉同意了。
海风清新，海面上泛起白色的浪花。既看不到出海的渔船，也没有摩托艇的踪影。
对岸的斯蒂克尔黑文小村此时也看不清楚，只能看到高处山坡的轮廓，那是一块突兀
的红色岩石，与狭窄的海湾形成鲜明对比。
埃米莉·布伦特说：
“昨天开船送我们过来的人看起来就靠不住。今天上午都这么晚了他还不来，真是奇
怪。”
维拉没说什么。她正在努力克制自己越来越惊慌不安的情绪。
她暗暗生气，对自己说：
“必须保持冷静。现在这副样子都不像我自己了，我不是总能把自己控制得很好吗？”
等了一会儿，她说：
“希望他会开船来接我们。我……我真想离开这儿。”
埃米莉·布伦特面无表情地说：
“我打赌没人不想离开这里。”
维拉说：
“这一切都太诡异了，乱成一团。”
上了年纪的埃米莉·布伦特突然自言自语道：
“我真后悔，怎么就轻易上了当。只要稍微动脑子想一下，就能发现那封信其实荒唐至
极。可是，当时我竟然不假思索，深信不疑。”
维拉木然回应着：
“我也是。”
“我太想当然了。”埃米莉·布伦特说。
维拉战战兢兢地倒吸一口气，说：
“你真的认为——就像你刚才在餐厅里说的那样？”
“亲爱的，你把话说明白点儿，你想说什么？”
维拉低声说：
“你真的认为是罗杰斯和他太太杀害了那位老太太？”
埃米莉·布伦特若有所思地凝望着海的另一边。过了一会儿，她说：
“我个人认为一定是这样。你觉得呢？”
“我不知道。”
埃米莉·布伦特说：
“发生的一切都证明了我的想法。罗杰斯太太晕过去了，而她丈夫失手摔掉了咖啡盘，
记得吗？还有他的解释，一听就是假的。我看啊，就是他们做的。”
维拉说：
“可是她的样子，看起来连自己的影子都害怕！我还从来没见过一个如此惊慌的女人。
一定是有什么东西无时无刻不在折磨着她……”
布伦特小姐喃喃道：
“我还记得，我在上幼儿园时，墙上挂着《圣经》里的一句话‘罪恶终将受惩罚’。说得
没错，罪恶终将受惩罚。”
维拉站了起来，说：
“那么，布伦特小姐……布伦特小姐，这么说——”
“怎么了，亲爱的？”
“其他人呢？其他人是怎么回事？”
“我不太明白你的意思。”
“针对其他人的控告……难道……难道也是真的？但是，要说罗杰斯夫妇的罪行是真
的，那么——”她说不下去了，脑子太乱了，没办法说清楚。
布伦特紧锁的眉头舒展开来。
“啊，我明白你的意思了。比如说那位隆巴德先生，他承认自己留下二十一个人活活饿
死。”
维拉说：
“他们只不过是土著——”
布伦特尖锐地指出：
“不管是黑人还是白人，都是我们的兄弟。”
维拉心想：
“我们的黑人兄弟，我们的黑人兄弟！天哪，我要放声大笑，我要疯了，我简直不知道
自己是谁……”
埃米莉·布伦特沉思片刻，继续说：
“当然，有些指控完全是胡说八道，荒谬可笑。比如指责法官的那条，他只不过是例行
公事，履行自己的职责而已。还有针对那个以前在苏格兰场供职的男人和针对我的指控，
都是空穴来风。”
她停了一下，继续说：
“昨天晚上，当着一群男人的面，我没打算解释，有些话不方便说出口。”
“什么话不方便说出口？”
维拉听得入神，布伦特小姐从容地说：
“比阿特丽斯·泰勒是我的用人，但她是个不检点的姑娘，可惜我发觉得太晚了。我完
全看走眼了，因为她的工作表现好极了，爱干净，又懂事，所以我很宠爱她。当然，这一
切都是她装出来的。她是个放荡的女人。真叫人恶心！很长时间之后，我才发现她确实像
别人所说的那样‘有麻烦了’。”她停了一下，皱起漂亮的鼻子，表现出不屑的样子，“她真是
让我大吃一惊。她父母也都是规规矩矩的人，对她的家教很严格。有一点我还比较满意，
至少她父母对此没有听之任之。”
维拉盯着布伦特小姐的眼睛，问：
“后来出了什么事？”
“我家里她自然是一分钟也待不下去了，我可不愿意让别人说我包庇不守妇道的人。”
维拉低声问：
“后来……她怎么了？”
布伦特说：
“那个被上帝抛弃的女人，居然还嫌自己的罪孽不够深，自寻短见了。”
维拉大惊失色，声音更加微弱。
“她自杀了？”
“对，跳河。”
维拉浑身发抖。
她呆呆地看着布伦特小姐平静的脸，说：
“你得知她自杀以后，心里是怎么想的？你后悔吗？谴责过自己吗？”
埃米莉·布伦特把身子摆正。
“我？我为什么要谴责自己？”
维拉说：
“如果她是因为你——你的铁石心肠——被逼自杀的话——”
埃米莉·布伦特恶狠狠地说：
“她自作自受，咎由自取，要是她老老实实，恪守妇道，这些事情压根儿也就不会发生
了。”
她转过来面对维拉，眼神坦然，毫无愧疚，显得冷酷又自信。埃米莉·布伦特站在士兵
岛的最高处，用道德这层盔甲将自己裹得严严实实。
刹那间，维拉觉得眼前这个小个子女人不是不可理喻，而是让她感到害怕！
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