Chapter 3 Chapter 3 The Man Who Grows Pumpkins

While the pumpkin growers were having lunch I told Caroline I was going to Fernley Court for dinner.She not only objected, but also supported me to go. "That's great," she said, "you can find out all about it. By the way, what happened to Ralph?" "What happened to Ralph?" I said in surprise. "Then why did he stay at Thribore instead of Fernley Court?" Caroline said that Ralph Paton was lodging at a local inn, and I didn't press on to that. , because she said that this step is enough for me. "Ackroyd told me he was in London," I said, forgetting an important rule of non-disclosure.

"Oh!" exclaimed Caroline.Whenever this happens to her, her nose always twitches. "He arrived at Thribor yesterday morning," she said, "and he's still there. He asked a girl out last night." I wasn't surprised at all by this.It could be said that Ralph went out with girls nearly every night of his life.But I don't understand why he should come to King Abbot to have fun instead of having fun in the luxurious metropolis of London? "Did you go out with the barmaid?" I asked. "No. I just know he's out with her, but I don't know who this girl is." (Caroline had to admit that she didn't know, which was a very embarrassing thing for her.) "But I Guess who she is." My sister still refused to admit defeat.

I waited patiently for her to continue. "His cousin." "Flora Aykroyd?" I asked in surprise. Of course, Flora Aykroyd was not in any way related to Ralph Paton, but Ralph had long been regarded as Aykroyd's own son.So people took it for granted that their relationship was like that of cousins. "It's her." The sister replied. "If he wanted to see her, why didn't he go to Fernley Court?" "They were secretly engaged," said Caroline relishingly. "Old Ackroyd can't let this know, they have to date like this." There are many flaws in Caroline's reasoning, but I try to restrain myself from pointing out to her.Then the conversation turned to the new neighbors who had moved in.We don't mean any harm by a comment about our new neighbors.

The mansion next door was called Larshe, and the owner had only recently moved in, and we didn't know him.Caroline was very annoyed because she couldn't find out anything about him except that he was a foreigner.Her brain trust was also at a loss.It was supposed that this man, like everyone else, liked milk, vegetables, hooves, and occasionally cod.But the people who often deliver to his door don't seem to know him very well.Everyone knew him only as M. Poirot—a name that gave people a confusing feeling.One thing we do know is that he is interested in growing pumpkins. But that wasn't what Caroline wanted to know.She wanted to know: where he was from, what he did, whether he was married, what his wife had been or was like now, whether he had children, what his mother's maiden name was.I figured the passport questions must have been made up by someone like Caroline.

"My dear Caroline," I said, "that man's occupation is very clear. He must be a retired barber. You only have to look at his beard to tell." Caroline disagreed with me.She said that if he had been a barber, he would have had wavy hair, not straight hair.She thinks all barbers make their hair wavy. I named a few barbers I knew who had straight hair, but Caroline was still not convinced. "I can't figure out this man at all," she said angrily. "I borrowed some flower-planting tools from him a few days ago. He was very polite to him, but I heard nothing there. In the end I had to Asked him bluntly if he was French, and he just said 'no' so I wouldn't have to ask." I became more and more interested in this mysterious neighbor.He was able to disable Caroline's seek spell and send her away empty-handed like a flirtatious girl.Such a man must be a great big man.

"I believe," Caroline said, "that he has a new vacuum—" She thought for a moment, and I could see from her eyes that she was waiting for my question, and I slipped into the garden.I'd love to do some gardening.When I was digging dandelion roots in the garden, suddenly there was a shout of "Beware", a heavy thing flew past my ear, and landed at my feet with a "plop". It turned out to be a big pumpkin!I raised my head, my heart full of resentment.At this time, a face appeared on the top of the wall to my left, and I saw that the person's head was like an egg, with sporadic black hair growing on it, two big mustaches, and a pair of alert eyes.This is our neighbor M. Poirot.

He said a lot of apologies to me right away. "Very, very sorry sir. I don't have a fence here. I've been growing pumpkins for the past few months, but this morning I was in a bad mood and suddenly lost my temper with them. I let them out for a walk - oops! That's what I thought, and I couldn't help moving my hands. I grabbed the biggest pumpkin and threw it over the wall. I'm so sorry, sir, to embarrass myself in front of you." The anger in front of the apology also dissipated, after all, this annoying thing didn't hit me.I really hope that littering pumpkins isn't a habit of our new friends.This habit is not welcome as a neighbor.

The grotesque little man seemed to guess what I was thinking. "Ah! no," he exclaimed, "don't trouble yourself, it's not my habit. But you can imagine, sir, when a person achieves the goal of life's struggle, and through hard work in exchange for Some kind of pastime and entertainment, but he suddenly finds himself thinking about the busy life of the past, do you know what it's like?" "It's really uncomfortable," I said slowly, "I think this phenomenon is very Ubiquitous. Take me for example, a year ago I got a large inheritance - enough to fulfill my dream, I've always wanted to travel and see the world. Alas, that was a year ago, like you As I said just now—I'm still running around now." The short neighbor nodded.

"There are all sorts of strange things in the world. We work so hard all day long to reach some goal, and once we reach that goal, we find that what we have lost is our daily work. To tell you the truth, sir, my work It's very interesting, the most interesting job in the world." "What job?" I ventured to ask, and Caroline's guts came back strongly to me. "Study human nature, sir!" "I see," I said kindly. Indeed, a retired barber, who knows the mysteries of human nature better than a barber? "And I have a friend--he's been with me for years. He's frighteningly stupid sometimes, but he's very affectionate with me. You know, I even miss his clumsy moves, his innocent words, Honest look. I had a lot of fun teasing and frightening him with fancy toys—all of which I miss dearly. I can't explain that to you." "Is he dead?" I said asked sympathetically.

"No, he's alive and well - he's on the other side of the world, now in Argentina." "In Argentina," I said enviously. I've always wanted to go to South America.I sighed, and looked up to see M. Poirot looking at me with regret.It seems that he is an empathetic person. "Do you want to go there too?" he asked. I shook my head and sighed. "I could go," I said, "that was a year ago. But I was stupid--worse than stupid--very greedy. I risked all my money and ended up empty-handed." "I see," said M. Poirot, "you're speculating?" I nodded sadly.But even so, I chuckled to myself at the pretentiousness of this ridiculous little man who spoke so seriously.

"Is that the Porcupine field?" he asked suddenly. I stared blankly at him. "I was thinking about this oil field, but then I put my money into the Western Australian gold mines." My neighbor looked at me with an inscrutable strange expression. "It's fate," he said at last. "What did fate arrange?" I asked angrily. "Fate has put me next door to someone who has seriously considered the Porcupine oil fields and the gold fields of Western Australia. Please tell me, do you like tawny hair too?" laugh. "No, no, I'm not mentally ill. Don't get too nervous, I'm just asking a stupid question. You know, that friend I was talking to you about was a young guy who thinks all women are good Yes, and most of them are beautiful. But you're a middle-aged man, a doctor, and you should know that most of the things we do in life are either stupid or vanity. Well, without further ado. We're neighbors, I think Give the best pumpkin to your good sister." He bent down, bragging, and chose a very large pumpkin and handed it to me, and I respectfully accepted the pumpkin in the same way. "Indeed," said the little man cheerfully, "this morning was not in vain. You are in some respects like my distant friend, and I am glad to have the honor of making your acquaintance. Oh, by the way, in this little In a small village, you must know everyone. Who is that handsome young man with black hair and black eyes? He walks with his head thrown back and always has a smile on his mouth.” From his description, I knew exactly Who is he referring to. "It must be Captain Ralph Paton," I said quietly. "How come I've never seen him at this time before?" "Yes, he hasn't been here for a long time. He's the son of Ackroyd, master of Fernley Court - or rather his Adopted son." My neighbor made an impatient gesture. "Of course, I should have guessed that. Mr. Ackroyd has mentioned him many times." "You know Mr. Ackroyd?" I asked in surprise. "Mr. Ackroyd knew me when I was in London—I was working there. I told him not to talk about my profession here." "Oh, I see." Snobbery seemed to me like his patent, I am secretly amused in my heart. The little dwarf continued to smirk, which seemed to be a bit artificial. "I like to hide my identity and don't want to attract people's attention. People in this place get their names wrong, and I don't bother to correct them." "Indeed." I didn't know what to say, I just echoed. "Captain Ralph Paton," said M. Poirot after a thoughtful pause, "is engaged to Mr. Ackroyd's charming niece, Miss Flora." "Who told you?" I asked in amazement. "Mr Ackroyd told me a week ago. He was very satisfied - he had been looking forward to this day for a long time, and it was evident from his conversation. I guess he also offered the young man It's not wise to put pressure on. Young people marry to find happiness—they shouldn't be marrying to please their stepfather." My original idea was completely shattered.It is impossible for Aykroyd to reveal his confidant to a barber and discuss with him the marriage of his niece and adopted son.Although Aykroyd was always so genial to the lower classes, he was also very conscious of his dignity.I realize only now that Poirot could not have been a barber. In order to cover up the doubts in my heart, I asked casually without thinking. "Why do you pay attention to Ralph Paton? Because he is handsome?" Described as a Greek god. But that's not the main reason, it's mainly because there's something about this guy that I can't figure out." He finished the last sentence thoughtfully.His expression at that time was really indescribable, as if an insider made a general summary of this young man, and I didn't know these inside facts before.At this time, my sister called me loudly in the room. I went in and saw Caroline wearing a hat, obviously just back from the village."I met Mr. Ackroyd," she said straight to the point. the truth.His attitude towards Caroline was exactly the same as he had been towards Gannett earlier,--probably had been.But Caroline was harder to dismiss. "As soon as I saw him I asked him about Ralph. He was so taken aback that he had no idea the boy was here. He finally said I must be mistaken. Would I be mistaken again?" That's ridiculous," I said, "and he should have seen through you." Then she told me that Ralph and Flora were engaged. "I know that too," I interrupted her, rather proudly. "Who told you that?" "Our new neighbors." Caroline could be seen to hesitate for a moment, like an automatic rolling code ball that pauses for a moment between two numbers.Then she told the truth. "I told Mr. Ackroyd that Ralph lives in Thriber now." "Caroline," I said indignantly, "are you crazy to spread everything indiscriminately? It's a bad habit that kills, you know." "Nonsense," retorted my sister, "some things should be told. It's my duty to tell people what I know. I'll tell Ike about it. He's very grateful to me, Lloyd." "Yeah." I responded, and it was obvious she had more to say. "I suppose he'll go to Thribor as soon as he hears about it, and if he does, I'm sure he won't find Ralph there." "Why not?" "Because when I When I came back through the woods—" "You came back through the woods?" I interrupted her. Caroline's face turned red. "It's such a fine day," she cried, "that I think I should go out for a walk. The woods in autumn, picturesque, are the most charming time of year." Caroline did not like to be in trees at any time. Going to hang out. She always thought that going to such a place would wet her shoes and all kinds of nasty things would fall on her head unexpectedly. It must be the nature of the Weasel family that led her to the woods. Here The only place near the village of King Abbot where you can make love to a young woman without being discovered by the villagers, and it's not far from Fernley Court. "Well, let's go on." I urged. "That's right. As I was walking home through the woods, I heard someone talking." Caroline paused for a moment. "Who is it?" "One was Ralph Paton's voice—I recognized it right away, and the other was a girl's. Of course I didn't want to overhear them—" "Of course I didn't. ' I interjected, sarcastically, but it did nothing to Caroline. "But I just couldn't help hearing a few words. I didn't quite catch something the girl said. Then Ralph answered her, sounding very angry. He said: 'My dear lady, you Do you know that the old man probably won't leave me a dime? He's grown to hate me for the last few years. If something goes wrong again, he'll probably do it. We need money, dear. The old man's eyes One close and I'm rich. People think he's mean but he's rich. I don't want him to change his will. It's all on me and you don't have to worry about it.' These are his words I remember it clearly. The bad thing is, I just stepped on a dead branch. They heard the sound, lowered their voices, and walked away slowly. Of course I couldn't follow them closely, so I didn't See who the girl is." "That's pretty annoying," I said, "I think you must have come to Thribor out of breath, and run into the bar, and ordered a brandy, so that you Let's see if both the waitresses are on duty, are you?" "Not the barmaid," said Caroline with certainty. "As a matter of fact I'm almost sure the girl is Flora Aykroyd, it's just—" "It just doesn't make sense." I agreed with her. "Who else could it be if it wasn't Flora?" My sister lined up the neighboring girls one by one like a cannonball and analyzed them one by one, explaining a lot of reasons for each person's possibility and impossibility. When she stopped to catch her breath, I whispered that I had patients waiting for me, and slipped away quietly. I'm going to make a trip to Thribor, where Ralph Paton may well be back. I knew Ralph very well--no one in King Abbott knew him better than I did, as I knew his mother before he was born.So I know many things that others don't know.In a way, he is a victim of genetics.He hadn't inherited her mother's alcoholism, but he was fragile.As my friend said this morning, he is a very handsome young man.He was six feet tall, well-proportioned, and moved like an athlete.He is like his mother, with black eyes, a handsome and dark face, and a smile always on the corner of his mouth.Ralph Paton was a natural charmer, and he didn't have to try too hard to charm girls.He indulges extravagance, is cynical, and dislikes everything in the world.But he was likable, and his friends were loyal to him. Is there anything I can do for this child?I think it is possible. I made some inquiries in Thribor, and learned that Captain Peyton had just returned.I went to his room and went in without knocking. I was still haunted by what I had heard and seen.I doubted that he would welcome me, but such doubts were unfounded. "Ah, it's you, Shepard! Nice to see you." He stepped forward and greeted me with his arms outstretched, a happy smile on his face. "In this kind of ghost place, you are the only one who can make me happy." I frowned at him. "What does this place have to do with you?" He laughed, a little exasperated. "It's a long story, it's not looking good for me, doctor. How about a drink?" "Well, have a drink," I replied. He rang the bell, then returned and sat down in his chair. "To be blunt," he said, with a very frustrated look on his face, "it's such a mess that I actually have no idea what to do next?" "What's going on?" I asked sympathetically. "It's all my goddamn stepfather." "What did he do?" "He didn't do anything, but he might." The doorbell rang, and Ralph ordered some drinks.After the waiter left, he hunched over and sat back in the armchair with a frown. "Is it really that serious?" I asked. He nodded. "This time I was almost at the end of my rope and encountered great financial difficulties." He said very soberly. There was an unusual seriousness in the tone of his speech, and it was evident that he was speaking the truth.It was rare to see Ralph speak in that serious manner. "To be honest," he continued, "I don't know the road ahead at all... If there is even half a lie, I will die." "Can I help you?" I said timidly. asked. He shook his head decisively. "You're very kind, Doctor. But I don't want to involve you, I just want to be alone with this situation." He was silent for a moment, then repeated in a slightly different tone: "Yes, I To deal with this situation alone..."