Chapter 47 second quarter

Dr. Holmes climbed a long flight of stairs to the author's reception room. "Is Officer Lei back?" He asked out of breath.Lowell frowned, very frustrated. Holmes began, "How about you revisiting the University Lecture Archives?" "I'm afraid we won't be able to go." Fields said with a long sigh. "Why?" Holmes asked. "Mr. Teal didn't show up this evening," explained Longfellow. "He's probably ill." "Impossible," said Fields despondently. "It says in the record book that Teal has never been absent from work in four months. Holmes, I got this chap in trouble after he After a gratuitous display of his loyalty."

"Stupid..." Holmes said. "I shouldn't have brought him into this! Manning probably found out that Teal helped us break into the archives and got him. Or maybe that bastard Samuel Tickner stopped him from talking to Eddie." Miss Murray is taking revenge on him by playing a disgraceful game. Besides, I have spoken to all the war clerks in the company, and no one has admitted to going to the Soldiers' Aid, and no one has said anything of value." Lovell said, "Fields, give me Teal's address, and I'll look for him myself. Holmes, will you come with me?"

When Lowell and Holmes came to the stable, they found Fields' mare writhing on the ground in pain, unable to get up no matter how hard they struggled, they couldn't help shaking with fright.The mare's companion watched sadly and kicked at anyone who approached her.Judging from the symptoms of the mare, it is obviously unable to run, and the two poets had to use walking as a cart. Teal's house is located in the South District of Boston, and it is a modest house.The house number is written on his work card, and it can be seen that he wrote these numbers very carefully, even though the handwriting is still crooked.

"Mrs. Teal?" A worried woman stood at the door. Lowell raised his hat politely. "My name is Lowell. This is Dr. Holmes." "Mrs. Galvin," she said, and put a hand to her chest. Lowell looked at the house number on the paper with the number on it, "Is there a man named Till boarding here?" She looked up at them with sad eyes. "My name is Harriet Galvin," she repeated slowly, as if reciting, as if the two visitors before her were children or fools, "I live here with my husband, and there is no boarder at home." I've never heard of that Mr. Teal you speak of, sir."

"So you have only recently moved here?" asked Dr. Holmes. "It's been five years now." "Ma'am," said Holmes, "would you be kind enough to let us in for a while, so that we can get a better idea of ​​the place?" She agreed.Upon entering the house, Lowell immediately noticed a framed tintype photograph hanging on the wall. "Aha, may I trouble you for a glass of water, my dear lady?" Lowell asked. She went to get some water, and he rushed to the framed photo, looking at the sprightly soldier in the oversized uniform. "My God! It's him, Lowell! It's true, it's Dan Teale!"

It was him. "He was in the army?" Holmes asked. "He's not on Osgood's list!" "Here's why! 'Ensign Benjamin Galvin,'" Holmes read the name emblazoned beneath the photo. "Till is a pseudonym. Hurry up while she's away." Holmes sneaked into the narrow In his room, he saw that it was full of wartime equipment, carefully placed and displayed one by one, and one of them immediately caught his attention: a saber hanging on the wall.A chill went straight to his bones, and he whispered Lowell's name softly.The poet walked in in response, and the sight in front of him made him tremble all over.

Holmes waved away a small flying insect coming from directly behind. "Leave that bug alone!" Lowell said, slapping the bug to pieces. Holmes unhurriedly removed the saber from the wall. "It's the kind of knife that . . . the ornaments our officers wear, a relic of the civilized wars of this world. Maybe it was the knife that chopped up Phineas Jannison." "No way. There's not a single stain on it," Lowell said, approaching the shiny object cautiously. Holmes wiped the blade with his fingers, "It's invisible to the naked eye. Even if all the sea water is used to clean it, the blood stains left after killing people are not so easy to wash off." Then, his gaze stayed There was a little blood stain on the wall, which was left over from the bug that was slapped to death just now.

Mrs. Galvin returned with two glasses of water, and as soon as she saw Dr. Holmes touching the knife she ordered him to stop.Holmes ignored her and rushed out of the room to the gate.She yelled angrily that they were entering her house to steal from her and threatened to call the police. Lowell came between them and stopped.Holmes, deaf to Mrs. Galvin's protests, stopped on the pavement before the door, holding his heavy saber before his eyes.A small flying insect landed on the knife, as if the iron piece was attracted by a magnet.Then, in the blink of an eye, another one, two, and then three little flying insects huddled together without thinking.After a few seconds, a large group of flying insects flew over, buzzing around the blood seeping into the gap of the blade.

Lowell just spoke, but seeing the scene in front of him, he swallowed the remaining half. "Call the others over here!" Holmes shouted. They were mad to see her husband.She was petrified, and watched Holmes and Lovell take turns talking and gesticulating, and they didn't stop until there was a knock on the door.Fields appeared before them, but Harriet paid no attention to the round, anxious Fields, but stared unblinkingly at the tall, shaggy-bearded figure behind him. people.Against the backdrop of the silver-white sky, he is extremely calm and composed, and there is nothing more refreshing and pure than this image.She raised a trembling hand as if to stroke his beard, and indeed her fingers brushed a lock of the poet's hair as he followed Fields in.He took a step back.She begged him to come into the house.

Lowell and Holmes looked at each other. "Probably she hasn't recognized either of us," Holmes murmured.Lowell agreed. She tried to tell how amazed she was: she read Longfellow every night before bed; The rhythm of the night, the saga of faithful but fruitless love, soothed him even when he fell asleep—even now, she said sadly.However, when she was explaining, she always repeated the question, "Why, Mr. Longfellow..." She kept asking this question until she couldn't help sobbing. Longfellow said softly: "Mrs. Galvin, we need help urgently, and only you can help us. We must find your husband."

"These two seem to want to hurt him," she said, referring to Lowell and Holmes. "I don't understand. Why do you...why, Mr. Longfellow, how do you know Benjamin?" "I'm afraid we haven't had time to give you a satisfactory explanation," said Longfellow. Only then did she take her eyes off the poet. "But I don't know where he is, and I'm ashamed. He seldom comes home, and when he does, he always doesn't say a word. Sometimes he goes out for days." "When was the last time you saw him?" Fields asked. "He came back for a little while today, and left a few hours before you came." Fields pulled out his pocket watch and looked, "Where did he go?" There was another knock on the door.She took out her handkerchief, wiped her eyes, and fiddled with her clothes. "It must be another creditor to bother me." She went to the Great Hall, where the poets were gathered, head to head chatting excitedly. Lowell heard a noise in the front hall, and he immediately shifted his attention. Longfellow looked at him puzzled and said, "Lowell?" "Lowell, are you listening?" Fields asked. A stream of voices floated from the front door. "That voice," Lowell was shocked, "that voice! Listen!" "Teele?" Fields asked eagerly. "Maybe she's telling him to run away, Lowell! We'll never find him again!" Lowell sprang into action.He rushed across the hall to the door, where a tired man with bloodshot eyes stood glaring.The poet rushes forward, shouting "I've got you". Lowell grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him into the house. "I've got him!" cried Lowell. "I've got him!" "What are you doing?" screamed Pietro Baki. "Bucky! What are you doing here?" Longfellow said. "How do you know I'm here? Tell your bastard to let me go, Mr. Longfellow, or I'll see what kind of man he is!" Bucky snarled, throwing his arms at the prison in vain. The man who grabbed him. "Lowell," Longfellow said, "let's talk to Mr. Bucky alone." They took Bucky into another room, and Lowell demanded why he came. "None of your business," Bucky said, "I came back to speak to that lady." "Excuse me, Mr. Bucky," said Longfellow, shaking his head, "but Dr. Holmes and Mr. Fields are asking her questions at the moment." Lowell then asked: "What conspiracy did you and Till plot? Where is he? Don't make me angry! Whenever there is trouble, you will come out to make trouble." Baki drew his sad face, "Who is Teal? I have been treated like this, and you should be the ones who answered!" "If he doesn't give me a satisfactory answer right away, I'll take him to the police station and tell the police what he has done!" Lovell said, "Longfellow, don't I know he's been deceiving us?" "Scary! Give it to the police, you pay it!" Bucky said, "They'll pay for it for me! Don't you want to know what I'm here for? My fee." His thick Adam's apple moved up and down, "Yes, as you may have guessed, I am not at all tired of being a tutor." "Teacher? You give her lessons? Italian?" asked Lowell. "Taught her husband," Bucky replied, "only three times, a few weeks ago—he seemed to think it should be free." "But you're back in Italy!" Lowell said. Bucky laughs, with a hint of homesickness in his laugh. "Well, sir! The closest I've ever been to Italy was to see my brother off." "Seeing your brother off? Nonsense!" cried Lowell. "You're rushing madly in a boat to catch that steamer! And you're carrying a bagful full of counterfeit money—we saw it with our own eyes." of!" Bucky pointed at Lowell to scold him, but he drank too much and was dizzy, and the finger he stretched out was not aimed at Lowell. "Yes, I caught the steamer. But I had no money at all. I went there that day to hand over a manuscript to my brother, who promised to send it to Italy." "Manuscript?" Longfellow asked. "An English translation. It's Dante's Inferno, if you must know. I hear you're translating Dante's Divine Comedy, Mr. Longfellow, and there's something for your precious Dante Club too." Heard, I am laughing at this! As a child of Italy, as one who grew up with her history, her conflicts, her struggle against the weight of the Church, is it possible that in my respect for the liberty Dante sought? Is there nothing incomparable in love?" Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, "Yes, of course. You never invited me to Craigie's. Is it because someone said I was an alcoholic? I was fired from Harvard? What freedom is there in America? You are content to send Italians into your factories and into your battlefields, leaving us obsolete and ignored by the world. You watch our culture be trampled, Our language is suppressed, let us change clothes. Then you smile and snatch our literature from our shelves. Robbers. You are all bloody literary robbers." "Our understanding of Dante's spiritual essence is deeper than you can imagine." Lowell replied, "Maybe I should remind you that it is your nation, your country that has abandoned Dante!" Longfellow signaled Lowell to stop, and then said, "Mr. Bucky, we saw you go to the port. Please explain why you are sending the translation to Italy?" "I have heard that Florence plans to accept your translation of "Inferno" at the last Dante Festival this year, but you have not been able to complete it. I have been translating "Divine Comedy" on and off in my study for many years. We have an idea, If we could prove to ourselves that Dante could live in English as he lived in Italian, we could thrive in America. I never expected it to be published. But when Lonza died in an unknown After being in the hands of others, I realized that our work must be printed. But I must find a way to print it myself, and my brother promised to pass on my translation to a bookbinder he knew in Rome, and he Hand over to the committee and explain our situation. "When I arrived at the pier, the ship had already left the shore, so I had to beg a greedy boatman to take me to catch the Anonimo in a small boat. As soon as I got on the boat and handed in the manuscript, I returned immediately. Unfortunately, all my efforts were in vain. You guys should be happy to hear that the water has come to nothing—the committee is 'no longer accepting any submissions to the Festival of Dante at this time'." Speaking of his failure, Bucky giggled. Longfellow thought for a moment, and said: "My dear sir, Dante's original work is extremely difficult to understand, and publishing it in two or three independent translations will most likely be welcomed by interested readers." "It's you," Lowell said suddenly, "and you're the one who threatened us by carving a threatening word on Longfellow's window so that Longfellow would stop translating!" Bucky flinches back, pretending not to understand what Lowell is saying.He took out a black wine bottle from his jacket pocket and held it to his lips, gulping down a few big gulps, as if his throat was just a funnel leading to some distant place.After drinking, he trembled all over. "Sir," said Longfellow, "we must know what you taught Mr. Galvin. Can he speak and read Italian now?" Bucky chuckled. "For you to ask! This man, he always wears the blue uniform with gold-plated buttons that you American soldiers wear. It is Dante he wants to learn, Dante, Dante is Dante. But It just didn't occur to him that he had to learn Italian first." "Did you lend him your translation?" asked Longfellow. Bucky shook his head. "I want my translation to be completely confidential. You all know how your Mr. Fields reacts to someone trying to compete with his author. Anyway, I'm trying to accommodate Mr. Galvin's request." I suggested that he read the "Divine Comedy" with me word for word, as an introductory Italian lesson. But he was as silent as a donkey. After that, he wanted me to tell him about Dante's Inferno, I refused." "Did you say you didn't teach him anymore?" Lovell asked. "Professor, it would have been nice if I had. But one day, he didn't come to ask me to take a class. I haven't been able to find him since that day. He hasn't paid me for the class yet." "Sir," said Longfellow, "this matter is of the utmost importance. When Mr. Galvin was studying the Divine Comedy, did he compare anyone in our town? You'll have to wonder if he ever Mentioned who, for example, certain people who had some connection to Harvard and were skeptical of Dante." Bucky shook his head. "He's like an ass, and rarely speaks, Mr. Longfellow. Does this have anything to do with the school's current campaign against your work?" Lowell became alert, "What else do you know?" "Sir, when you came to see me, I warned you," Bucky said, "I told you to watch out for your Dante seminar, didn't I tell you? You remember the last few weeks when you were in Harvard Square When did you see me? When I got a note to meet with a gentleman to have a secret talk with- yo, I thought it was my Harvard colleagues who asked me to go back to my old job! Look how stupid I am The truth is, that damned rascal is on a mission to prove that Dante was a bad influence on students, and he's counting on me to help him." "Simon Kemp," Lovell said through gritted teeth. "I can tell you, I nearly knocked his face off," Bucky said. "I really hope you did, Mr. Bucky." Lowell smiled at him and said, "In this way, maybe he will have to work harder to prove Dante's fall. How do you answer him?" "How to answer? 'Fuck you', what else can I say. I have worked for Harvard for so many years, and now I can't even pay for bread, and some bastard in management pays for it. What about that idiot?" Lowell smirked. "Who else? It's Man..." Before he finished speaking, he suddenly turned around and gave Longfellow a meaningful look, "Dr. Manning." Mrs. Manning was cleaning up broken glass. "Jane, bring the mop!" she called to the maid for the second time, sullen, sullen at a pool of sherry spilled on the carpet in her husband's library. As Mrs. Manning came out of the library, the doorbell rang.She parted the curtains and saw Longfellow standing at the door. Mrs. Manning said apologetically that Dr. Manning was not at home.She explained that earlier he had been waiting for a guest and had asked them not to disturb.He and his guests must have gone for a walk, and she also felt a little strange to go for a walk in such bad weather.Also, they left some broken glass in the library. "Is it possible that they went in a carriage?" asked Longfellow. Mrs. Manning said Dr. Manning strictly forbade the use of the family's horses because of the plague.Still, she was willing to accompany Longfellow to the stables. "My God!" she exclaimed, and Dr. Manning's carriage and horse were gone. "What's wrong, Mr. Longfellow? Good God!" she repeated. Longfellow made no answer. "What happened to him? You must tell me immediately!" Longfellow said slowly, "You'll have to stay home and wait. He'll come back safe and sound, Mrs. Manning, I promise." The wind howled over Cambridge, and it hurt the man's face.