Мертвая комната. Уровень 2 / The Dead Secret

Treverton opened the envelope, two slips dropped out. One fell on the table before which he was sitting; the other fluttered to the floor. This last slip Shrowl picked up and looked over its contents.

Mr. Treverton began to read the letter. The letter was not long. He read it down to the signature, and went through it again from the beginning.

“Shrowl,” he said, very quietly, “my brother, the Captain, is drowned.”

“I know,” answered Shrowl.

“I wonder what he thought about me when he was dying?” said Mr.

“He didn't waste a thought on you or anybody else,” remarked Shrowl.

“Damn that woman!” muttered Mr. Treverton.

He read the letter again:

“Sir,

As the old legal adviser and faithful friend of your family, I acquaint you with the sad news of your brother's death. This deplorable event occurred on board the ship of which he was captain, during a gale of wind. I enclose a detailed account of the shipwreck, extracted from The Times, by which you will see that your brother died nobly.

I must add that no will has been found, after the most rigorous search, among the papers of the late Captain Treverton. So Porthgenna, his only property, derived from the sale of his estate, will go in due course of law[17 - in due course of law – согласно закону] to his daughter.

I am, Sir, your obedient servant,

Alexander Nixon.”

The newspaper-slip contained the paragraph from The Times.

“Why don't you read about what a great man your brother was, and what a good life he led?” asked Shrowl. “Why don't you read about what a wonderful handsome daughter he's left, and what a capital marriage she's made along with the man that's owner of your old family estate? The ill wind – that killed her father – brought her forty thousand pounds. Why don't you read about it? She and her husband have got a better house in Cornwall than you have got here.

The only words Andrew said were these two -

“Go out! And hold your tongue henceforth and forever about my brother and my brother's daughter. Hold your tongue – leave me alone – go out!”

Shrowl slowly withdrew from the room.

Mr. Treverton pushed aside his chair, and walked up and down. He whispered a few words to himself and threw both the newspaper-slips into the fire.