Chapter 6 chapter Five

(one) "When you think about it," said Mrs. Oliver, "it's such a relief to have it all over without any unpleasantness." It was a moment of relief indeed, and Roda's fair passed away like all fairs.Early in the morning, the weather was originally very bad, and everyone was worried, but it finally turned out to be unsatisfactory.There were also some disputes over the details before and after, and they were finally resolved one by one. It was not easy, it was dark, there were people performing dances in the barn, and fireworks were also arranged, but the hosts were very tired, so we went back to the house and had a simple dinner together.Everyone ate and chatted, but everyone was so busy talking about themselves that they didn't have time to pay attention to what others were saying.

"This year's results must be better than last year." Roda said happily. "I find it odd that Michael Brant has found treasure three years in a row," said Miss Maclist, the children's Scottish nanny and teacher. "I don't know if he got the information in advance?" "Miss Brookbank won the pig," said Rhoda. "I don't think she wanted it. It seemed embarrassing." The party consisted of my cousin Rhoda, her husband, Colonel Despar, Miss Maclist, a red-haired lady called Kingjo, Mrs Oliver, and the Rev. and Mrs. Kelb Cathorpe.The pastor is a lovely elderly scholar whose greatest hobby is quoting scriptures at the right time.Although this habit is often embarrassing and brings the conversation to an end, he never tires of it.

"Horace said..." He looked at the table with a smile. "I think Mrs. Hersford did something with that bottle of champagne," said Kimjo thoughtfully. "Her nephew got that bottle." Mrs. Cassop was a nervous woman, and after looking at Mrs. Oliver with those beautiful eyes for a moment, she asked suddenly: "What do you hope will happen to the garden party?" "Oh, like murder or something." Mrs. Cassop seemed interested. "Oh? Why did it happen?" "No reason, and very unlikely. But there was a murder at the last fair I was at."

"I get it, that's why you feel uneasy." "Yes, very uneasy." The priest switched from Latin to Greek again. After a short pause, Miss Maclist spoke of the suspicion that the drawing of lots for the live ducks might have been a trick. "Old Luger from the Royal Arms sent a dozen dozen beers to the liquor booth, that's a generosity," said Despers. "'Royal Arms'?" I asked sharply. "It's a local hotel, my dear," said Rhoda. "Is there another hotel here? It's called—the White Horse, you said it, didn't you?" I asked Mrs. Oliver.

But the reaction was completely unexpected. Someone turned to look at me, but the expression was vague and uninterested. "The White Horse isn't a hotel," said Rhoda, "I mean it isn't anymore." "It was originally a hotel," Despar said. "I think it was around the sixteenth century. Now it's just an ordinary house, and I always feel that the name should be changed." "No," Jin Qiao said, "it would be too ridiculous to change the name to something like 'Roadside Residence' or 'Beautiful View Pavilion'. I think it would be nice to call it 'White Horse', and there is a lovely piece of wood in the house." The old hotel sign, they hung it in the lobby."

"Who are you referring to?" I asked. "The house belongs to Setha Gray," said Rhoda. "I wonder if you saw her today? She's very tall, with short gray hair." "She's mysterious," said Despar. "Spiritualism and witchcraft and all. Not necessarily witchcraft, but that sort of thing." Jin Qiao burst into laughter suddenly, and then said apologetically: "I'm sorry, but I just suddenly remembered Miss Gray walking up the black velvet altar and playing the witch." "Jinjo!" said Rhoda, "don't talk nonsense in front of the priest!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Cassop." "It doesn't matter," the pastor smiled, "the ancients said—" Then he read a passage in Greek. After a respectful silence, I repeated the old story. "I'd still like to know who 'them' you're talking about? Who else but Miss Gray?" "Well, she has a friend called Sybil Stamforddis who lives with her, and I think she's a psychic, and you must have seen her around, with a bunch of charms and rosaries and all— —sometimes she wears an Indian woman’s drapery, I don’t know why—she’s never been to India—”

"And Bella, who's their cook," said Mrs. Cathorpe, "is a witch too, from the little village of Dunning. She's a well-known witch over there, a family tradition, and her mother was also a witch. " Her tone was very natural. "You sound like you believe in witchcraft too, Mrs. Cathop," I said. "Of course! There's nothing mysterious about it, it's all natural. It's just that a person inherits his parents' assets, and children don't dare to tease your cat, and neighbors will give you homemade snacks or jam from time to time."

I looked at her suspiciously, but she seemed serious. "Sybyl is doing fortune-telling for us today," said Rhoda. "She's sitting in the green tent, and I'm sure she knows a thing or two." "She counted my fortune very well today," Jin Qiao said, "She said that I would have money any time I wanted, that a handsome stranger from abroad would pursue me, that I would marry two husbands and have six children, It's really generous." "I saw the Curtiss girl giggling when she came out," said Rhoda. "Later, she was shy with her boyfriend and told him not to think she was married to him."

"Poor Tom," said her husband, "has he ever talked back?" "Yes! He said: 'I won't tell you what she promised me, maybe you won't like it, my girl!'" "well said." "Old Mrs. Barker is very mean," said King Joe, laughing, "just say, 'It's all nonsense, don't believe it, either of you. I know as well as I do that Miss Stamforddis can see things no one else can see, and Miss Gray knows when someone is going to die and never says they missed it! It gives me goosebumps sometimes.' said Mrs Barker:' Death—it's different, that's a gift." said Mrs. Clipper: "I wouldn't want to offend any of the three anyway!"'"

"Sounds very interesting, I should like to see them!" said Mrs. Oliver eagerly. "We'll take you there tomorrow," Colonel Despers promised, "that old hotel is indeed worth seeing. They've made it comfortable without destroying its original character." "I'll call Sesha tomorrow morning," said Rhoda. I must admit, I was a little deflated when I went to bed. "White horse" has always represented an unknowable evil in my heart, but now it seems that it is not the case at all. Unless, of course, there is another "white horse"... I kept thinking wildly about falling asleep. (two) The next day was Sunday, and I felt a sense of relief, a feeling that the music was over.Large and small tents on the grass were swaying messily in the damp breeze, waiting for someone to clean them up.On Monday we all had to get down to tidying up, but Rhoda wisely decided that we should all go out and relax today as much as possible. We all went to church and listened reverently to Reverend Cassop's passage on Isaiah. "We'll have lunch with Mr. Wienerbo later," Rhoda told me. "You're going to like him, Mark, he's really interesting. He's been everywhere, done everything, and knows all sorts of oddities." Weird thing. He bought the Price mansion three years ago and must have spent a lot of money on renovating it. He has polio and is in a wheelchair, and I think he must have felt bad because he really liked it. Traveling. Of course, he has a lot of money, and his house is full of the most luxurious things. I think his greatest hobby now is going to the auction house to buy things." Price Mansion was only a few miles away, and when we arrived by car, the owner wheeled a wheelchair to the lobby to greet us. "You are all welcome," he said earnestly. "I must have been exhausted after a busy day yesterday. What a success, Rhoda." Mr. Winnerb was about fifty, with a thin, eagle-like face and a proudly hooked nose.He was wearing a slightly classic top. Roda would like to introduce to you. "I saw the lady yesterday," said he, "and I bought six autographed books for Christmas. You write very well, Mrs. Oliver, and you must keep on writing." , let us have more things to see." He smiled at Jin Qiao, "You almost got me a live duck, miss." Then he turned to me and said, "I liked how you were in the 'Review Monthly' last month. ' on that article." "Thank you very much for coming to our fair, Mr. Winnerb," ​​said Roda. "You sent us such a large check that you thought you couldn't come in person." "Oh, I love garden fairs, that's what life in the English country is all about, isn't it? I ended up coming home with a scary plastic doll from a game of tossing the rings, and our Sibyl prophesied wonderful things for me. , It’s a pity that the distant view is unreal. By the way, Xi Bier wore a gold-threaded turban and fake Egyptian rosary beads that weighed about a ton.” "Sybil, dear fellow," said Colonel Despers, "we're going to have afternoon tea with Sesha today, she's a very interesting place." "White Horse? Yeah, I wish it was a hotel. I've always thought it had a mysterious and unusual history of evil. It couldn't be smuggling. It's not close enough to the sea. Maybe it's a resting place for the Woodland Raiders?" Perhaps some wealthy travelers have passed there for one night and disappeared from the world forever. Anyway, let it become the residence of three old ladies, and it feels nothing." "Oh—I never thought of them that much!" exclaimed Rhoda, "perhaps like Sibyl who always wears Indian wraps and amulets and talks about seeing clouds over other people's heads, indeed. It's kind of funny. But don't you think there's something scary about Sesha? She seems to know what's going on in people's minds. She doesn't say she's precognitive—but everyone does." "And Bella, who was young enough to have already buried two husbands," said Colonel Despers. "I sincerely hope she will forgive me," said Mr. Winable, laughing. "According to the neighbors," said Colonel Despers, "if anyone displeases her, all she has to do is look at that person, and that person will slowly get sick and die." "Of course, I forgot, is she a witch?" "Mrs. Cassop said so." "Witchcraft is a very interesting thing," said Mr. Winabel thoughtfully. "There are different forms of witchcraft all over the world. I remember when I was in East Africa—" He had lively conversations about magicians in Africa, gods of Borneo, and promised to show us some West African wizard masks after lunch. "There is everything in this house." Roda laughed. "Oh," said the host, shrugging his shoulders, "if I can't go out and see everything, I'll have to bring everything home for myself to admire." Only at this moment, there seemed to be a sudden bitterness in his voice, and he quickly glanced at his paralyzed legs. "There's so much all-encompassing and novelty in the world," he said. "There's so much I want to know and see! Oh, I guess my life hasn't been too bad, and even now it's Some consolation." "Why here?" asked Mrs. Oliver suddenly. The others were slightly disturbed, as if aware of an air of tragedy, but Mrs. Oliver was unmoved.What she wanted to know, she asked directly, and her frank and curious attitude restored the atmosphere to relaxation. Mr. Winner looked at her questioningly. "I mean," said Mrs. Oliver, "why do you live here? It's a bit out of the way, and it's not easy to keep track of what's going on. Is it because you have friends here?" "No, since you want to know, I'll tell you, I chose this place because I have no friends here." A faint smile played on his lips. I thought to myself, how much does his disability affect him?Has the loss of the ability to explore around the world gnawed into his soul?Or, has he really gained peace in this changed environment by relying on his great spiritual power? " Mr. Winner seemed to know what I was thinking, and said to me: "In one of your articles, you once mentioned the term 'great' and compared the different interpretations of it between the East and the West. What the hell does 'good guy' mean?" "Of course it means a person with great wisdom," I said, "oh, and also a person with high morals." He looked at me with bright and lively eyes, and asked again: "So you can't describe the villain as 'great'?" "Of course," said Rhoda. "Napoleon, Hitler, and many, many others were great." "Because they caused that kind of consequences?" Desper said, "But if you know them personally, I'm afraid you won't feel that way." Jin Qiao leaned forward, stuck his fingers in the red hair and said: "This kind of thinking is very interesting. Maybe they don't look like pitiful, dwarf-like little people, but even if they trample the whole world under their feet, won't they still be dissatisfied?" "Oh, absolutely not," said Rhoda vehemently. "It would be a different matter if they were like that." "I dare not say," said Mrs. Oliver, "after all, the stupidest boy could easily set fire to a house." "Okay, okay," said Mr. Winnerb, "don't talk about things that don't exist. Yes, there is 'evil' in the world, and its power is also great, sometimes even more powerful than evil." The power of goodness is greater. It does exist, we must admit it—we must fight against it, otherwise—" He spread his hands and said, "We will only sink into darkness." "Of course, I was brought up with evil," said Mrs. Oliver apologetically. "I mean, I always believed in it. But you know, I always thought he looked ridiculous." —has animal-like feet, and tails and stuff, and jumps around like an actor. Of course, the stories I write always have a main culprit—the reader loves it—but it's getting harder and harder to deal with. As long as the reader doesn't know who the murderer is, I can try to make him impress, but when he finally has to show up, he often looks incompetent, which can be said to be a kind of demoralizing. It would be much simpler and more natural if the plot were changed to a bank manager embezzling public funds, or a cruel husband trying to get rid of his wife and marry the children's governess - I believe you know what I mean. " Everyone laughed. Mrs. Oliver said again apologetically: "I know I'm not explaining it very well—but you must all understand what I mean, don't you?" We both said we knew exactly what she meant.