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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Tales of Terror and Mystery
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- Стр. 17/137
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"
Yes
,
I
am
sure
that
you
are
right
.
I
can
make
out
the
two
small
d
’
s
quite
plainly
.
"
"
What
I
have
read
to
you
tonight
,
"
said
Dacre
,
"
is
the
official
record
of
the
trial
of
Marie
Madeleine
d
’
Aubray
,
Marquise
de
Brinvilliers
,
one
of
the
most
famous
poisoners
and
murderers
of
all
time
.
"
I
sat
in
silence
,
overwhelmed
at
the
extraordinary
nature
of
the
incident
,
and
at
the
completeness
of
the
proof
with
which
Dacre
had
exposed
its
real
meaning
In
a
vague
way
I
remembered
some
details
of
the
woman
’
s
career
,
her
unbridled
debauchery
,
the
cold
-
blooded
and
protracted
torture
of
her
sick
father
,
the
murder
of
her
brothers
for
motives
of
petty
gain
.
I
recollected
also
that
the
bravery
of
her
end
had
done
something
to
atone
for
the
horror
of
her
life
,
and
that
all
Paris
had
sympathized
with
her
last
moments
,
and
blessed
her
as
a
martyr
within
a
few
days
of
the
time
when
they
had
cursed
her
as
a
murderess
.
One
objection
,
and
one
only
,
occurred
to
my
mind
.
"
How
came
her
initials
and
her
badge
of
rank
upon
the
filler
?
Surely
they
did
not
carry
their
mediaeval
homage
to
the
nobility
to
the
point
of
decorating
instruments
of
torture
with
their
titles
?
"
"
I
was
puzzled
with
the
same
point
,
"
said
Dacre
,
"
but
it
admits
of
a
simple
explanation
.
The
case
excited
extraordinary
interest
at
the
time
,
and
nothing
could
be
more
natural
than
that
La
Reynie
,
the
head
of
the
police
,
should
retain
this
filler
as
a
grim
souvenir
.
It
was
not
often
that
a
marchioness
of
France
underwent
the
extraordinary
question
.
That
he
should
engrave
her
initials
upon
it
for
the
information
of
others
was
surely
a
very
ordinary
proceeding
upon
his
part
.
"
"
And
this
?
"
I
asked
,
pointing
to
the
marks
upon
the
leathern
neck
.
"
She
was
a
cruel
tigress
,
"
said
Dacre
,
as
he
turned
away
.
"
I
think
it
is
evident
that
like
other
tigresses
her
teeth
were
both
strong
and
sharp
.
"
"
Look
here
,
Burger
,
"
said
Kennedy
,
"
I
do
wish
that
you
would
confide
in
me
.
"
The
two
famous
students
of
Roman
remains
sat
together
in
Kennedy
’
s
comfortable
room
overlooking
the
Corso
.
The
night
was
cold
,
and
they
had
both
pulled
up
their
chairs
to
the
unsatisfactory
Italian
stove
which
threw
out
a
zone
of
stuffiness
rather
than
of
warmth
.
Outside
under
the
bright
winter
stars
lay
the
modern
Rome
,
the
long
,
double
chain
of
the
electric
lamps
,
the
brilliantly
lighted
cafes
,
the
rushing
carriages
,
and
the
dense
throng
upon
the
footpaths
.
But
inside
,
in
the
sumptuous
chamber
of
the
rich
young
English
archaeologist
,
there
was
only
old
Rome
to
be
seen
.
Cracked
and
timeworn
friezes
hung
upon
the
walls
,
grey
old
busts
of
senators
and
soldiers
with
their
fighting
heads
and
their
hard
,
cruel
faces
peered
out
from
the
corners
.
On
the
centre
table
,
amidst
a
litter
of
inscriptions
,
fragments
,
and
ornaments
,
there
stood
the
famous
reconstruction
by
Kennedy
of
the
Baths
of
Caracalla
,
which
excited
such
interest
and
admiration
when
it
was
exhibited
in
Berlin
.
Amphorae
hung
from
the
ceiling
,
and
a
litter
of
curiosities
strewed
the
rich
red
Turkey
carpet
.
And
of
them
all
there
was
not
one
which
was
not
of
the
most
unimpeachable
authenticity
,
and
of
the
utmost
rarity
and
value
;
for
Kennedy
,
though
little
more
than
thirty
,
had
a
European
reputation
in
this
particular
branch
of
research
,
and
was
,
moreover
,
provided
with
that
long
purse
which
either
proves
to
be
a
fatal
handicap
to
the
student
’
s
energies
,
or
,
if
his
mind
is
still
true
to
its
purpose
,
gives
him
an
enormous
advantage
in
the
race
for
fame
.
