classic mystery and detective stories-第48章
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visited by me。〃
。 。 。 。 。
The narrative； when Melmoth was again able to trace its
continuation； described Stanton； some years after； plunged in a
state the most deplorable。
He had been always reckoned of a singular turn of mind； and the
belief of this； aggravated by his constant talk of Melmoth； his
wild pursuit of him； his strange behavior at the theater； and his
dwelling on the various particulars of their extraordinary
meetings； with all the intensity of the deepest conviction （while
he never could impress them on any one's conviction but his own）；
suggested to some prudent people the idea that he was deranged。
Their malignity probably took part with their prudence。 The
selfish Frenchman* says； we feel a pleasure even in the misfortunes
of our friends；a plus forte in those of our enemies； and as
everyone is an enemy to a man of genius of course； the report of
Stanton's malady was propagated with infernal and successful
industry。 Stanton's next relative； a needy unprincipled man；
watched the report in its circulation； and saw the snares closing
round his victim。 He waited on him one morning； accompanied by a
person of a grave； though somewhat repulsive appearance。 Stanton
was as usual abstracted and restless； and； after a few moments'
conversation； he proposed a drive a few miles out of London； which
he said would revive and refresh him。 Stanton objected； on account
of the difficulty of getting a hackney coach （for it is singular
that at this period the number of private equipages； though
infinitely fewer than they are now； exceeded the number of hired
ones）； and proposed going by water。 This； however； did not suit
the kinsman's views； and； after pretending to send for a carriage
（which was in waiting at the end of the street）； Stanton and his
companions entered it； and drove about two miles out of London。
* Rochefoucauld。
The carriage then stopped。 Come； Cousin；〃 said the younger
Stanton；〃come and view a purchase I have made。〃 Stanton absently
alighted； and followed him across a small paved court； the other
person followed。 〃In troth； Cousin；〃 said Stanton； 〃your choice
appears not to have been discreetly made； your house has somewhat
of a gloomy aspect。〃〃Hold you content； Cousin；〃 replied the
other； 〃I shall take order that you like it better； when you have
been some time a dweller therein。〃 Some attendants of a mean
appearance； and with most suspicious visages； awaited them on their
entrance； and they ascended a narrow staircase； which led to a room
meanly furnished。 〃Wait here；〃 said the kinsman； to the man who
accompanied them； 〃till I go for company to divertise my cousin in
his loneliness。〃 They were left alone。 Stanton took no notice of
his companion； but as usual seized the first book near him； and
began to read。 It was a volume in manuscript；they were then much
more common than now。
The first lines struck him as indicating insanity in the writer。
It was a wild proposal （written apparently after the great fire of
London） to rebuild it with stone； and attempting to prove； on a
calculation wild； false； and yet sometimes plausible； that this
could be done out of the colossal fragments of Stonehenge； which
the writer proposed to remove for that purpose。 Subjoined were
several grotesque drawings of engines designed to remove those
massive blocks； and in a corner of the page was a note；〃I would
have drawn these more accurately； but was not allowed a KNIFE to
mend my pen。〃
The next was entitled； 〃A modest proposal for the spreading of
Christianity in foreign parts； whereby it is hoped its
entertainment will become general all over the world。〃This modest
proposal was； to convert the Turkish ambassadors （who had been in
London a few years before）； by offering them their choice of being
strangled on the spot； or becoming Christians。 Of course the
writer reckoned on their embracing the easier alternative； but even
this was to be clogged with a heavy condition；namely； that they
must be bound before a magistrate to convert twenty Mussulmans a
day； on their return to Turkey。 The rest of the pamphlet was
reasoned very much in the conclusive style of Captain Bobadil；
these twenty will convert twenty more apiece； and these two hundred
converts； converting their due number in the same time； all Turkey
would be converted before the Grand Signior knew where he was。
Then comes the coup d'eclat；one fine morning； every minaret in
Constantinople was to ring out with bells； instead of the cry of
the Muezzins； and the Imaum； coming out to see what was the matter；
was to be encountered by the Archbishop of Canterbury； in
pontificalibus； performing Cathedral service in the church of St。
Sophia； which was to finish the business。 Here an objection
appeared to arise； which the ingenuity of the writer had
anticipated。〃It may be redargued；〃 saith he； 〃by those who have
more spleen than brain； that forasmuch as the Archbishop preacheth
in English； he will not thereby much edify the Turkish folk； who do
altogether hold in a vain gabble of their own。〃 But this （to use
his own language） he 〃evites；〃 by judiciously observing； that where
service was performed in an unknown tongue； the devotion of the
people was always observed to be much increased thereby； as； for
instance； in the church of Rome；that St。 Augustine； with his
monks； advanced to meet King Ethelbert singing litanies （in a
language his majesty could not possibly have understood）； and
converted him and his whole court on the spot；that the sybilline
books。 。 。 。
。 。 。 。 。
Cum multis aliis。
Between the pages were cut most exquisitely in paper the likenesses
of some of these Turkish ambassadors； the hair of the beards； in
particular； was feathered with a delicacy of touch that seemed the
work of fairy fingers；but the pages ended with a complaint of the
operator； that his scissors had been taken from him。 However； he
consoled himself and the reader with the assurance； that he would
that night catch a moonbeam as it entered through the grating； and；
when he had whetted it on the iron knobs of his door； would do
wonders with it。 In the next page was found a melancholy proof of
powerful but prostrated intellect。 It contained some insane lines；
ascribed to Lee the dramatic poet； commencing；
〃O that my lungs could bleat like buttered pease；〃 &c。
There is no proof whatever that these miserable lines were really
written by Lee； except that the measure is the fashionable quatrain
of the period。 It is singular that Stanton read on without
suspicion of his own danger； quite absorbed in the album of a
madhouse； without ever reflecting on the place where he was； and
which such compositions too manifestly designated。
It was after a long interval that he looked round； and perceived
that his companion was gone。 Bells were unusual then。 He
proceeded to the door；it was fastened。 He called aloud；his
voice was echoed in a moment by many others； but in tones so wild
and discordant； that he desisted in involuntary terror。 As the day
advanced； and no one approached； he tried the window； and then
perceived for the first time it was grated。 It looked out on the
narrow flagged yard； in which no human being was； and if there had；
from such a being no human feeling could have been extracted。
Sickening with unspeakable horror； he sunk rather than sat down
beside the miserable window； and 〃wished for day。〃
。 。 。 。 。
At midnight he started from a doze； half a swoon； half a sleep；
which probably the hardness of his seat； and of the deal table on
which he leaned； had not contributed to prolong。
He was in complete darkness； the horror of his situation struck him
at once； and for a moment he was indeed almost qualified for an
inmate of tha
