04-01-02-不平静的坟墓 [5]
的当地人闹了不少别扭。他决定把他们都抓起来进行惩罚，于是他就—一对他们这么做了，最后只剩下一个人。这个人叫高迪，他的家族一度在埃塞克斯的那一地区很富裕和显赫，而且他们家族中的一些人在村里的教堂里也有坟墓。可过了若干年该家族失去了他们的土地和钱财，高迪对此感到十分痛苦。很长时间以来亚瑟爵士一直抓不住他做坏事，直到一天晚上爵士手下的人在爵士的林子里发现了高迪和一些死鸟。于是他们便打起来，其中一人被射中。亚瑟爵士正需要如此，法官当然完全站在他一边，可怜的高迪几天后便被绞死了。人们认为是高迪的某位朋友为报仇而偷走了亚瑟爵士的小男孩，这样就使弗朗西斯家族也绝了后。可依我看，这事更像老高迪自己干的。嗯，我不想再琢磨这事了。咱们喝一杯吧，好吗？”
这幅画的故事讲给了几个人听，有人信，有人不信。布里耐尔先生除了觉得这画有点不同寻常外，对这个故事一无所知。这幅画现在就放在博物馆里，虽然人们对它观察得十分细致，可没人看到它再有什么变化。
■ Rats
'And if you walked through the bedrooms now，you'd see the dirty grey bedsheets rising and falling like the waves of the sea．'
'Rising and falling with what？'
'Why，with the rats crawling underneath them．'
But was it rats？I ask，because in another story it was not．I cannot put a date to the story，but I was young when I heard it，and the teller was old．
It happened in Suffolk，at a place where the coast road climbs a little hill as it travels northwards．At the top of the hill，on the left，stands a tall narrow house built about 1770． Behind it are the gardens and other buildings，and in front lies open heath with a view of the distant sea．The house was once a well-known inn，though I believe few people stay there now．
To this inn came Mr Thomson，a young man from the University of Cambridge，in search of peace and pleasant surroundings in which to study．He found both；the innkeeper and his wife kept a comfortable house，and Mr Thomson was the only guest．
It was fine spring weather and Mr Thomson's days passed very happily．His plan was to stay a month：studying all morning，walking on the heath in the afternoon，and talking with the local people in the bar in the evening．
On one of his walks over the heath he came upon a large white stone with a square hole in the top．No doubt it had once held a post of some kind．He looked around him at the wide，open heath and beyond that，the sea shining in the bright sunlight and decided that the stone had probably once held a sign to guide the local sailors back to their homes．
In the bar that evening he spoke of the stone and his idea that it had，perhaps，once held a sign to guide sailors．
'Yes，'said Mr Betts，the innkeeper，'I've heard they could see it from out at sea，but whatever was there fell down long before our time．'
'A good thing it did，too，'said one of the villagers．'It wasn't a lucky sign-that's what the old men used to say． Not lucky for the fishing，I mean．'
'Why ever not？'said Thomson．
'Well，I never saw it myself，'answered the other．'But those old fishermen had some strange ideas，and I wouldn't be surprised if they pulled it down themselves．'
It was impossible to get anything clearer than this，and people soon began to talk about something else．
One day Mr Thomson decided not to have a walk in the afternoon，but to continue studying．He returned to his room after an early lunch and read on until about three o'clock．Then he put down his book，rose and went out into the passage， thinking that he would have a rest for five minutes．The house was completely silent．He remembered that it was market day and everyone had gone into the local town．
As he stood there，the idea came to him to look at the four other rooms along the passage．He was sure that the Bettses would not mind．The room opposite his was big but had no view of the sea．The next two were both smaller than his with only one window each——his had two．He walked down the passage to the door at the end and found that it was locked． Thomson decided that he must see inside that room；perhaps the key of his room would unlock the door．It did not，so he fetched the keys from the other three rooms and tried them． One of them fitted the lock and he opened the door．
The room had two windows looking south and west，and hot bright sunshine filled the room．Here there was no carpet， only wooden floorboards；no pictures，no furniture，except a bed in the farther corner—a metal bed covered with a bluishgrey blanket．You could not imagine a more ordinary room， but there was something that made Thomson close the door very quickly and very quietly behind him，and then lean against the wall in the passage
这幅画的故事讲给了几个人听，有人信，有人不信。布里耐尔先生除了觉得这画有点不同寻常外，对这个故事一无所知。这幅画现在就放在博物馆里，虽然人们对它观察得十分细致，可没人看到它再有什么变化。
■ Rats
'And if you walked through the bedrooms now，you'd see the dirty grey bedsheets rising and falling like the waves of the sea．'
'Rising and falling with what？'
'Why，with the rats crawling underneath them．'
But was it rats？I ask，because in another story it was not．I cannot put a date to the story，but I was young when I heard it，and the teller was old．
It happened in Suffolk，at a place where the coast road climbs a little hill as it travels northwards．At the top of the hill，on the left，stands a tall narrow house built about 1770． Behind it are the gardens and other buildings，and in front lies open heath with a view of the distant sea．The house was once a well-known inn，though I believe few people stay there now．
To this inn came Mr Thomson，a young man from the University of Cambridge，in search of peace and pleasant surroundings in which to study．He found both；the innkeeper and his wife kept a comfortable house，and Mr Thomson was the only guest．
It was fine spring weather and Mr Thomson's days passed very happily．His plan was to stay a month：studying all morning，walking on the heath in the afternoon，and talking with the local people in the bar in the evening．
On one of his walks over the heath he came upon a large white stone with a square hole in the top．No doubt it had once held a post of some kind．He looked around him at the wide，open heath and beyond that，the sea shining in the bright sunlight and decided that the stone had probably once held a sign to guide the local sailors back to their homes．
In the bar that evening he spoke of the stone and his idea that it had，perhaps，once held a sign to guide sailors．
'Yes，'said Mr Betts，the innkeeper，'I've heard they could see it from out at sea，but whatever was there fell down long before our time．'
'A good thing it did，too，'said one of the villagers．'It wasn't a lucky sign-that's what the old men used to say． Not lucky for the fishing，I mean．'
'Why ever not？'said Thomson．
'Well，I never saw it myself，'answered the other．'But those old fishermen had some strange ideas，and I wouldn't be surprised if they pulled it down themselves．'
It was impossible to get anything clearer than this，and people soon began to talk about something else．
One day Mr Thomson decided not to have a walk in the afternoon，but to continue studying．He returned to his room after an early lunch and read on until about three o'clock．Then he put down his book，rose and went out into the passage， thinking that he would have a rest for five minutes．The house was completely silent．He remembered that it was market day and everyone had gone into the local town．
As he stood there，the idea came to him to look at the four other rooms along the passage．He was sure that the Bettses would not mind．The room opposite his was big but had no view of the sea．The next two were both smaller than his with only one window each——his had two．He walked down the passage to the door at the end and found that it was locked． Thomson decided that he must see inside that room；perhaps the key of his room would unlock the door．It did not，so he fetched the keys from the other three rooms and tried them． One of them fitted the lock and he opened the door．
The room had two windows looking south and west，and hot bright sunshine filled the room．Here there was no carpet， only wooden floorboards；no pictures，no furniture，except a bed in the farther corner—a metal bed covered with a bluishgrey blanket．You could not imagine a more ordinary room， but there was something that made Thomson close the door very quickly and very quietly behind him，and then lean against the wall in the passage