下载辰思小说免费APP
“ItstrikesmethatthepuzzleconsistsinfindingouthowitispossibletogotosleepwithPugh’spurchaseinyourbedroom。Thisisfarbetterthantheold-fashionedprescriptionofcatsonthetiles。“
Itstruckmethenoisewasdistinctlylouderthanbefore；thisappliedbothtothetick，tick，tick，andthescreeching。
“Possibly，“Itoldmyself，asIrelightedthegas，“theexplosionistocomeoffthistime。“
Iturnedtolookatthebox。Therecouldbenodoubtaboutit；thenoisewaslouder。And，ifIcouldtrustmyeyes，theboxwasmoving——givingaseriesoflittlejumps。Thismighthavebeenanopticaldelusion，butitseemedtomethatateachticktheboxgavealittlebound。Duringthescreeches——whichsoundedmorelikethecriesofananimalinanagonyofpaineventhanbefore——ifitdidnottiltitselffirstononeend，andthenonanother，Ishallneverbewillingtotrusttheevidenceofmyowneyesagain。Andsurelytheboxhadincreasedinsize；Icouldhaveswornnotonlythatithadincreased，butthatitwasincreasing，evenasIstoodtherelookingon。Ithadgrown，andstillwasgrowing，bothbroader，andlonger，anddeeper。Pugh，ofcourse，wouldhaveattributedittosupernaturalagency；thereneverwasamanwithsuchanoseforaghost。Icouldpicturehimoccupyingmyposition，shiveringinhisnightshirt，ashebeheldthatmiracletakingplacebeforehiseyes。Thesolutionwhichatoncesuggesteditselftome——andwhichwouldNEVERhavesuggesteditselftoPugh！——
wasthattheboxwasfashioned，asitwere，inlayers，andthattheingeniousmechanismitcontainedwasforcingthesidesatoncebothupwardandoutward。Itookitinmyhand。Icouldfeelsomethingstrikingagainstthebottomofthebox，likethetap，tap，tappingofatinyhammer。
“ThisisaprettypuzzleofPugh’s。Hewouldsaythatthatisthetappingofadeathwatch。FormypartIhavenotmuchfaithindeathwatches，ethocgenusomne，butitcertainlyisacurioustapping；Iwonderwhatisgoingtohappennext？“
Apparentlynothing，exceptacontinuationofthosemysterioussounds。ThattheboxhadincreasedinsizeIhad，andhave，nodoubtwhatever。Ishouldsaythatithadincreasedagoodinchineverydirection，atleasthalfaninchwhileIhadbeenlookingon。
ButwhileIstoodlookingitsgrowthwassuddenlyandperceptiblystayed；itceasedtomove。Onlythenoisecontinued。
“Iwonderhowlongitwillbebeforeanythingworthhappeningdoeshappen！Isupposesomethingisgoingtohappen；therecan’tbeallthisto-dofornothing。Ifitisanythingintheinfernalmachineline，andthereisgoingtobeanexplosion，Imightaswellbeheretoseeit。IthinkI’llhaveapipe。“
Iputonmydressing-gown。Ilitmypipe。Isatandstaredatthebox。IdaresayIsatthereforquitetwentyminuteswhen，asbefore，withoutanysortofwarning，thesoundwasstilled。Itssuddencessationratherstartledme。
“Hasthemechanismagainhungfire？Or，thistime，istheexplosioncomingoff？“Itdidnotcomeoff；nothingcameoff。
“Isn’ttheboxevengoingtoopen？“
Itdidnotopen。Therewassimplysilenceallatonce，andthatwasall。Isatthereinexpectationforsomemomentslonger。ButIsatfornothing。Irose。Itooktheboxinmyhand。Ishookit。
“ThispuzzleISapuzzle。“Iheldtheboxfirsttooneear，thentotheother。Igaveitseveralsharprapswithmyknuckles。
Therewasnotanansweringsound，noteventhesortofreverberationwhichPughandIhadnoticedatfirst。Itseemedhollowerthanever。Itwasasthoughthesouloftheboxwasdead。
“IsupposeifIputyoudown，andextinguishthegasandreturntobed，inabouthalfanhourorso，justasIamdroppingofftosleep，theperformancewillberecommenced。Perhapsthethirdtimewillbelucky。“
ButIwasmistaken——therewasnothirdtime。WhenIreturnedtobedthattimeIreturnedtosleep，andIwasallowedtosleep；
therewasnocontinuationoftheperformance，atleastsofarasI
know。FornosoonerwasIoncemorebetweenthesheetsthanIwasseizedwithanirresistibledrowsiness，adrowsinesswhichsomasteredmethatI——Iimagineitmusthavebe
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