无人生还25
时间：2026-03-19 03:00:24
（单词翻译:单击）
Chapter 5
I
It was so sudden and so unexpected that it took every one’s breath away.
They remained stupidly staring at the crumpled figure on the ground.
Then Dr Armstrong jumped up and went over to him, kneeling beside
him. When he raised his head his eyes were bewildered.
He said in a low awe-struck whisper:
‘My God! he’s dead.’
They didn’t take it in. Not at once.
Dead? Dead? That young Norse God in the prime of his health and
strength. Struck down all in a moment. Healthy young men didn’t die like
that, choking over a whisky and soda…
No, they couldn’t take it in.
Dr Armstrong was peering into the deadman’s face. He sniffed at the
blue twisted lips. Then he picked up the glass from which Anthony Mar-
ston had been drinking.
General Macarthur said:
‘Dead? D’you mean the fellow just choked and—and died?’
The physician said:
‘You can call it choking if you like. He died of asphyxiation right
enough.’
He was sniffing now at the glass. He dipped a finger into the dregs and
very cautiously just touched the finger with the tip of his tongue.
His expression altered.
General Macarthur said:
‘Never knew a man could die like that—just of a choking fit!’
Emily Brent said in a clear voice:
‘In the midst of life we are in death.’
Dr Armstrong stood up. He said brusquely:
‘No, a man doesn’t die of a mere choking fit. Marston’s death wasn’t
what we call a natural death.’
Vera said almost in a whisper:
‘Was there—something—in the whisky?’
Armstrong nodded.
‘Yes. Can’t say exactly. Everything points to one of the cyanides. No dis-
tinctive smell of Prussic Acid, probably Potassium Cyanide. It acts pretty
well instantaneously.’
The judge said sharply:
‘It was in his glass?’
‘Yes.’
The doctor strode to the table where the drinks were. He removed the
stopper from the whisky and smelt and tasted it. Then he tasted the soda
water. He shook his head.
‘They’re both all right.’
Lombard said:
‘You mean—he must have put the stuff in his glass himself?’
Armstrong nodded with a curiously dissatisfied expression. He said:
‘Seems like it.’
Blore said:
‘Suicide, eh? That’s a queer go.’
Vera said slowly:
‘You’d never think that he would kill himself. He was so alive. He was—
oh—enjoying himself! When he came down the hill in his car this evening
he looked—he looked—oh I can’t explain!’
But they knew what she meant. Anthony Marston, in the height of his
youth and manhood, had seemed like a being who was immortal. And
now, crumpled and broken, he lay on the floor.
Dr Armstrong said:
‘Is there any possibility other than suicide?’
Slowly every one shook their heads. There could be no other explana-
tion. The drinks themselves were untampered with. They had all seen An-
thony Marston go across and help himself. It followed therefore that any
cyanide in the drink must have been put there by Anthony Marston him-
self.
And yet—why should Anthony Marston commit suicide?
Blore said thoughtfully:
‘You know, doctor, it doesn’t seem right to me. I shouldn’t have said Mr
Marston was a suicidal type of gentleman.’
Armstrong answered:
‘I agree.’
©2005-2010英文阅读网