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V
When Blore returned from the house with a rope coiled over his arm, he found Armstrong
where he had left him staring down into the depths.
Blore said breathlessly:
“Where’s Mr. Lombard?”
Armstrong said carelessly:
“Gone to test some theory or other. He’ll be back in a minute. Look here, Blore, I’m
worried.”
“I should say we were all worried.”
The doctor waved an impatient hand.
“Of course—of course. I don’t mean it that way. I’m thinking of old Macarthur.”
“What about him, sir?”
Dr. Armstrong said grimly:
“What we’re looking for is a madman. What price Macarthur?”
Blore said incredulously:
“You mean he’s homicidal?”
Armstrong said doubtfully:
“I shouldn’t have said so. Not for a minute. But, of course, I’m not a specialist in mental
diseases. I haven’t really had any conversation with him—I haven’t studied him from that point
of view.”
Blore said doubtfully:
“Ga-ga, yes! But I wouldn’t have said—”
Armstrong cut in with a slight effort as of a man who pulls himself together.
“You’re probably right! Damn it all, there must be someone hiding on the island! Ah! here
comes Lombard.”
They fastened the rope carefully.
Lombard said:
“I’ll help myself all I can. Keep a lookout for a sudden strain on the rope.”
After a minute or two, while they stood together watching Lombard’s progress, Blore said:
“Climbs like a cat, doesn’t he?”
There was something odd in his voice.
Dr. Armstrong said:
“I should think he must have done some mountaineering in his time.”
“Maybe.”
There was a silence and the ex-Inspector said:
“Funny sort of cove altogether. D’you know what I think?”
“What?”
“He’s a wrong ’un!”
Armstrong said doubtfully:
“In what way?”
Blore grunted. Then he said:
“I don’t know—exactly. But I wouldn’t trust him a yard.”
Dr. Armstrong said:
“I suppose he’s led an adventurous life.”
Blore said:
“I bet some of his adventures have had to be kept pretty dark.” He paused and then went
on: “Did you happen to bring a revolver along with you, doctor?”
Armstrong stared.
“Me? Good Lord, no. Why should I?”
Blore said:
“Why did Mr. Lombard?”
Armstrong said doubtfully:
“I suppose—habit.”
Blore snorted.
A sudden pull came on the rope. For some moments they had their hands full. Presently,
when the strain relaxed, Blore said:
“There are habits and habits! Mr. Lombard takes a revolver to out of the way places, right
enough, and a primus and a sleeping-bag and a supply of bug powder no doubt! But habit
wouldn’t make him bring the whole outfit down here! It’s only in books people carry revolvers
around as a matter of course.”
Dr. Armstrong shook his head perplexedly.
They leaned over and watched Lombard’s progress. His search was thorough and they
could see at once that it was futile. Presently he came up over the edge of the cliff. He wiped the
perspiration from his forehead.
“Well,” he said. “We’re up against it. It’s the house or nowhere.”
5
布洛尔把绳子缠在胳膊上，从房子那边回来，正看见阿姆斯特朗盯着水面往下张望。
布洛尔上气不接下气地问：
“隆巴德去哪儿了？”
阿姆斯特朗漫不经心地回答：
“他去证实自己的设想之类的，一会儿就回来。布洛尔，我很担心。”
“要我说，我们大家都在担心。”
阿姆斯特朗不耐烦地摆摆手：
“不，我不是这个意思，我是在琢磨老麦克阿瑟。”
“他怎么了？”
阿姆斯特朗冷冰冰地说：
“我们要找的是一个疯狂的人。你说有可能是麦克阿瑟吗？”
布洛尔不敢相信自己的耳朵。他说：
“你的意思是说，他是个杀人狂？”
阿姆斯特朗怀疑地说：
“我本不该乱猜，至少现在不该这样说他。当然，我并不善于治疗精神病，也没有跟他
深聊过。我的意思是，从来没有从医学角度研究过他。”
布洛尔怀疑地说：
“如果你说他是个老糊涂，我同意。但我不认为——”
阿姆斯特朗打断了他，极力想让自己再次冷静下来。
“你说得可能没错。见鬼，一定有人躲在这个岛上。隆巴德回来了。”
他们把绳子仔细拴牢。
隆巴德说：
“我会非常小心，如果绳子突然抽紧，你们就要留神拽住。”
阿姆斯特朗和布洛尔站在那儿看着隆巴德爬下去。过了一会儿，布洛尔说：
“你看，他的动作像只猫，是不是？”
他的语气有些不对劲儿。
阿姆斯特朗医生回答说：
“我觉得他以前肯定有很多爬山的经验。”
“有可能。”
两个人沉默不语。过了一会儿，布洛尔说：
“总之，这个家伙不是一般人。你明白我的意思吗？”
“什么？”
“他不是一般人。”
阿姆斯特朗疑惑地问：
“此话怎讲？”
布洛尔迟疑片刻，随后说：
“我不知道具体怎么形容，但我绝对不会信任他。”
阿姆斯特朗医生说：
“我看他是个冒险家。”
布洛尔说：
“要说他是冒险家的话，我敢打赌，准保是冒一些见不得人的风险。”他停了停，又继
续说下去，“你是不是正好也带着把枪，医生？”
阿姆斯特朗瞪起眼说：
“我？天哪，我可没有！我为什么要带枪？”
布洛尔说：
“隆巴德为什么要带枪？”
阿姆斯特朗犹疑地说：
“我想……他是习惯了吧。”
布洛尔的鼻子哼了一声。
绳子忽然绷紧，他们俩双手使劲儿攥着绳子，过了一会儿，绳子又松了。
布洛尔接着说：
“人们总拿习惯来说事。要是隆巴德去鸟不拉屎的地方，带把枪无可厚非，哪怕他带上
汽油炉，睡袋和臭虫粉之类的东西，也无可非议。但是，他今天到这儿来也带上这件装
备，就算是用‘习惯’二字也解释不通吧？只有在小说里，人们才会把带着手枪到处跑当成
习惯。”
阿姆斯特朗摇摇头，看上去很困惑。他和布洛尔靠在一起，留意着隆巴德的动作。
隆巴德的搜查很彻底。不过他们很快就发现，这么做不过是白费力气。过了一会儿，
隆巴德爬到崖壁顶，伸手抹着额头上的汗水。
“好吧，”他说，“什么都没发现，这儿除了房子，就是悬崖峭壁。”
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