Chapter 44 Section Eleven

At this time there was a light knock on the door, and a slight sound came from the hall.Fields shook his head dejectedly and said, "Osgood, please take care of yourself!" A piece of origami slipped under the door. "Just a note, Mr. Fields." Fields hesitated before opening the note. "Stamped with Holden's stamp. 'As you asked me earlier, I'm sure you'll be interested: Mr. Longfellow's proof does appear to be missing some. Holden.'" Everyone fell silent except Ray asking what happened to the note. Fields explained: "At the moment when we mistakenly thought the murderer was racing our translation, Sergeant, I asked my printer, Mr. Holden, to check that while printing Mr. Longfellow's proof , whether someone has tampered with them, and used it to spy on our translation process."

"My God, Fields!" Lowell snatched Holden's note out of Fields' hands, "Just now we thought that Green's sermon could explain everything. This note overturns our explanation like a pancake Already!" When Lowell, Fields, and Longfellow arrived at the printing office, Horton was busy writing a letter of warning to a derelict platemaker. "Didn't you tell me that there is no proof copy lost in the archives, Horton!" Fields yelled without taking off his top hat. "You're right, Mr. Fields. Those proofs I'm talking about aren't messed up now," Horton explained, "but, you know, I keep all the important plates and proofs downstairs in one of the Store another set in a sturdy safe."

"Horton," said Fields, "please show us where the backup copy is kept." Holden led Fields, Lowell, and Longfellow down a narrow flight of stairs to the storage room.After walking to the end of the long corridor, the printer entered the code to open a large safe, "I checked the proofs of Mr. Longfellow in the archives and found them intact, and then I want to check my When I opened the safe, I found that some proofs of parts of Mr. Longfellow's earlier translations had disappeared." "When was it lost?" Fields asked. Holden shrugged. "I don't come to these storage rooms very often. I guess the proof has been stolen for a few days. Maybe a few months. I didn't notice it at all."

Longfellow finds the chest with his name on it, and Lowell helps him sort out the proofs of The Divine Comedy. Pages from the Inferno are missing. Lowell murmured, "The proofs seem to have been jumbled up. A few pages are missing from the third book, but of the stolen proofs, this one seems to be the only one that matches the murders that took place." The printer stepped between the two poets and cleared his throat. "If you want, I can gather all the people who know the code. I want to find out the truth." The apprentices chirped as usual, and Horton clapped his hands several times before they quieted down. "Guys. Be quiet, guys. A little problem has come to my attention. You must know this guest, Mr. Longfellow of Cambridge."

A red-haired, country-looking fellow, with a sallow, pale, ink-stained face, began to squirm and cast nervous glances at Longfellow.Longfellow noticed this, and gestured to Lowell and Fields. "A few proof sheets in the storage room seem to have been... misplaced, we have to talk about it." Horton kept talking there, until he noticed the uneasy expression of the yellow-faced apprentice.Lowell put a hand lightly on the shoulder of the restless apprentice.As soon as Lowell's hand touched his shoulder, he pushed a colleague to the ground and ran out.Lowell immediately ran after him, and just as he turned the corner, he heard footsteps rushing down the back stairs.

The poet rushed into the antechamber and sprinted down the side stairs.The fugitives run along the river bank when Lowell suddenly emerges, blocking his way.He flung his hand out to grab the apprentice, who dodged out of the way, but slipped and fell along the frozen embankment, tumbling into the Charles River, shattering the thin layer of ice that froze over the river crushed. Lowell snatched a harpoon from a boy who was catching eels there, hooked the shivering apprentice by his apron and dragged him up, his clothes tangled in algae and discarded horseshoes. "Why did you steal those proofs? You rascal!" Lowell demanded loudly.

"What are you talking about? Get out of here!" His teeth chattered from the cold, and he stuttered when he spoke. "Tell me!" roared Lowell, his lips and hands trembling with cold, not much better than his captive. "Shut your stinky mouth!" Lowell was so angry that he grabbed the apprentice by the hair and pushed him into the river. The apprentice yelled while spitting out the river.At this moment Holden, Longfellow, Fields, and six noisy young apprentices poured out of the front door of the printing office to watch. Longfellow tries to stop Lowell. "I've sold the damn proof, I've sold it!" cried the apprentice, gasping for air. "I'm sorry, Mr. Horton. I didn't think anyone would notice the loss of these proofs! I know they're just extra backups!"

Holden blushed like a tomato. "Get in! Get in, everybody!" he yelled to the disappointed fellows loitering outside the door. Fields walked over patiently and confidently, "Honestly, man, this is good for you. Tell us frankly, who did you sell those proofs to?" "A queer man. Satisfied? One evening, as I was leaving get off work, the man stopped me, and said he would like me to get him twenty or thirty pages of Mr. Longfellow's new work, if I could find it, anywhere." A few pages would do, but don't take too many lest anyone notice. He kept trying to win me over, telling me how to make some extra money for himself."

"You bloody red-haired thief! Who is he?" Lowell asked. "He wore a tall broad hat, a black coat and a black cape, and a mustache. I said yes, and he shook my hand and left. I never saw the night owl again. " "Then how did you give him the proof?" asked Longfellow. "Not directly to him. He told me to send the proof to a place. I don't think it's his own house. I can't remember the number of the address, but it wasn't far from here. He said he'd return the proof." Give it to me, lest Mr. Horton get angry when he finds out, but that guy never came back to me."

"He knows Holden's name?" Fields asked. "Hey, hear me!" Lovell said. "We need to know the exact address where you sent the proof." "I told you," replied the apprentice, trembling, "that I can't remember the house number." "Don't you play a fool with me!" Lovell said. "Absolutely not! If I go looking for it on my trot, I'll remember, I will!" Lowell smiled, "Very well, you take us there." "No, I won't snitch! Unless I can keep my job!" Holden walked down the embankment and said, "No way!"

"And you've got another job - jail time," Lowell added. "We'll meet again in a few hours when it's dark." The apprentice weighed it up and replied like a rooster who has lost a fight. Lowell took Fields' carriage to the gate of the Riverside Printing House.The red-haired apprentice rode an old spotted mare, cursing that what they did would give his horse a fever.He rode at a gallop, through the streets and alleys, past several frozen pastures without lights.The road is so winding that even Lowell, who grew up in Cambridge, can't tell the difference between south, east and north. The apprentice reined in the horse at the backyard gate of a colonial house, at first overrunning, then turning the horse's head and turning around. "This house is where I sent the proof. According to his instructions, I put the proof under the door of this back door." Lowell stopped the carriage, "Whose house is this?" "The rest is up to you!" growled Colby, kicking the horse with his heels as it galloped away across the frozen ground. Fields, carrying a lamp, led Lowell and Longfellow down the corridor at the back of the house. "There's no light in there," Lowell said, breaking the frost off one of the windows. "We'll go around to the house, get the address down, and come back here with Ray," Fields whispered. "This rogue might be playing us. He's a thief, Lowell! Well, the accomplices are here to rob us." Lovell knocked the brass knocker again and again. "God has always been against us recently. If we leave now, the house will be demolished tomorrow morning until there is no shadow left." "Fields is right. We'd better proceed with caution, my dear Lowell." Longfellow advised softly. "Hey!" Lowell yelled, now pounding on the door with his fist. "There's no one here." Lovell kicked the door, but the door was kicked open effortlessly, which surprised him. "Did you see it? We have a lucky star tonight." "Jamie, we can't just break in like this! What if this house belongs to our Satan? Then we will be the ones in jail!" Fields said. "In that case, let's introduce ourselves." Lowell said, taking the lantern in Fields' hand. Longfellow was at the door, watching out for the carriage to be seen.Fields followed Lowell into the house.As they passed through the dark, chilly hall, the publisher trembled at the sound of creaks and thuds.The wind blew in through the open back door, blowing the curtains back and forth, which was really scary.Some rooms contained few pieces of furniture, others were empty.Because no one was using it, the room was dark and dark. It seemed that the darkness had piled up and could be touched with one's hand. Lowell entered a fully furnished oval room with a slightly vaulted ceiling, somewhat like a chapel ceiling, when suddenly he heard Fields spitting something in his face and beard. Scratch and scratch.Lowell hit the lights in a big arc. "Spider web, just half spun." He set the lantern down on the table in the center of the library. "There's been no one living here for a while." "Or the people who live in this house don't care about being with bugs." Lowell paused and thought for a while, "Look around, maybe there's something that can tell us why that scoundrel brought Longfellow's proof here for a few bucks." Fields was muttering something when he heard this, when suddenly there was an indistinct cry and heavy footsteps.Lovell and Fields exchanged horrified glances at the sound, then hurried outside, fleeing for their lives.