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04-01-04-三十九级台阶 [16]

By Root 1681 0

  For half an hour they searched all the buildings. They came to the door at the bottom of my tower, and for a minute I thought they were going to come up,but the door was locked.
  All afternoon I lay on that roof. I was terribly thirsty, and,to make it worse,I could see and hear a small stream which came off the moor and flowed near the farm. I wanted a drink of that cool clear water more than anything in the world.
  From the tower I could see all the moor around. I saw two men go off in a car, and another man on a horse,and I imag-ined they were looking for me. But I could also see something more interesting. At the top of the hill behind the house was a ring of trees with grass inside. It was clear that this was where the plane landed.
  It was an excellent place for an airfield. It could not be seen from below because it was at the top of the hill; from the valley,the hill seemed covered with trees. And anyone watching the plane coming in to land would think it was just flying over the hill. I realized that if the plane arrived now, the pilot would probably see me,so I lay still, and hoped night would come quickly.
  Luckily,when the plane did arrive,it was almost dark. I watched it land,and then waited until everything was quiet. There was no moon, and I was too thirsty to wait,so at nine o'clock I climbed down. Halfway down, somebody came out of the house with a light,and I froze. Then the light disap-peared and I continued down to the ground.
  I crawled as far as the trees. I guessed that the house would be guarded in some way,so I continued very slowly and care-fully,and found a wire about sixty centimetres from the ground. Falling over that would doubtless start alarm bells ringing in the house.
  A hundred metres further on there was another wire, but after that it was the open moor. Ten minutes later I had my head in the stream and I drank litres of cold water.
  I did not stop again until I was ten kilometres from that terrible house.


■ 6 秃头作家
  那天我就在山里岩石后的茂密石楠丛里过夜。我身上没大衣,觉得很冷。我的大衣、斯卡德尔的笔记本、我的手表、甚至我的烟斗和烟都留在特恩布尔先生那儿了。尽我所有只是一点饼干。
  我吃了一半饼干当晚餐,偎在石楠丛里尽量保持热量。而我心里觉得乐滋滋的。迄今为止,我运气还不错。送奶员、旅店老板、哈里爵士、修路人甚至马默杜克都帮了我的忙,有这样的帮助我觉得会成功。现在主要问题是我太饿了。我梦想着一顿顿美餐昏昏入睡。
  大清早我一睁眼就觉得冷得不得了。向山下看了看,我分秒必争地穿上鞋。离我只有数百米的下面有一伙人向上爬着,仔细地搜索着石楠丛。
  我在石楠丛里紧贴着地面向山上爬。到了山顶,我站起来不再躲藏。我听到人们的呐喊声,于是便假装向山的那坡逃去,而实际隐身于石楠丛中,向下又爬回峡谷。二十分钟后我回头看看,那些人正在越过山顶向那一坡追去。
  我不知道我在什么地方,只知道我必须不停地走。我领先他们二十分钟,但他们是当地人,对这片山地比我熟悉。不久他们就紧紧跟上来了,我就竭力地跑着。过了一会儿,我看到左首有一片树林和一家农舍的烟囱。于是就奔那里跑去,不觉得到了一个庭院里。我向房子走去,这时一个老头开着门正在瞧着我。我穿过庭院,进了屋。
  我进了一间很不错的屋子,屋子里摆满了书。中间放着一张书桌,桌旁坐着一位老人,神态慈祥。鼻尖上架着一副眼镜,头顶秃秃的像玻璃一样闪着光。他一动不动,抬着头等着我开口。
  他的镇定出乎我意料,以至于有一会儿我只是呆呆地望着他。
  “朋友,您很着急呀,”他缓缓地说。
  我透过窗户向荒原望去,我们俩都看到一队人正穿行于石楠丛中。
  “我明白了,”他说。“警察在追您,是不是?这事我们过一会儿再说。我干活的时候不喜欢警察到我家来打搅。请走左边的门,随手把门关上。那里很安全。”
  这位不同寻常的老人拿起笔写起字来。
  我听他的,不觉来到一间小屋,只有一个小窗户还开得很高。门已经关好。我又找到藏身之处了。
  然而我觉得不自在。这个老头哪里有点怪。我突然闯进屋,可是看来他一点也不吃惊。他那双眼睛睿智得叫人害怕。我在那儿等着,极力不去想辘辘饥肠。我正在想着早饭,门突然打开了,又是那个老头。
  “我告诉警察您已经翻山走了。理查德·哈内先生,今天上午您真运气。”他笑着说。
  他说话的时候,眼睛眯着,我猛地记起斯卡德尔说过一个人,这个人能“像猫头鹰那样眯着眼睛”。我意识到我已经走到敌人的手心里来了。
  我第一个想法是把他打倒然后逃跑,可是两条汉子推门而入。他们手里都拿着枪。
  老头知道我叫什么,但从来没见过我。我想碰碰运气。“我不明白您说什么,”我粗声粗气地说。“您叫谁哈内?我的名字叫安斯利。”
  “当然,您有好多名字,”他仍然笑着说。“别为名字抬杠了。”
  我忿忿然地看着他。“我猜您要把警察叫回来。当初要是没见到那辆车就什么事也没有了。”我把四英磅放在桌子上。
  “我不会叫警察,”他说。“这是你我之间的私事。”
  “得了,住口吧!”我喊起来。“从爱丁堡一下船我就不顺。碰到一辆撞坏的汽车,从里边拿了点钱,结果警察追了我两天。您爱怎么样随便好了。奈德·安斯利算完了。”
  他又开始说话,从声音里我可以听出他的犹豫不决。
  “劳您驾能不能告诉我最近几天您都干什么了?”
  “不行。我两天没吃饭了。给我点东西吃,然后我实话实说。”我尽量装出恳求的声调。
  饭给我端来了,我一边吃他一边用德语对我讲什么。我就傻呼呼地盯着他。然后把我的故事讲给他听。我是个海员,从爱丁堡下的船,路过苏格兰去看我兄弟。在那里我看到一辆汽车,于是在里边拿了点钱。可警察就一直紧追不舍。
  “他们可以把钱拿回去嘛,”我叫道。“这点钱净给我添乱!”
  “哈内,您挺会撒谎的,”他说。
  我发起怒来。“我叫安斯利,不认识什么叫哈内的人。我宁可让警察抓住也比叫您、您的枪和您的哈内抓住好。对不起,先生,我不干,感谢您的饭,现在我想走了。”
  可以看出他犹豫不决了。他从来没见过我,而且,我猜我看起来也不像我的照片。
  “我不让您走。假如您是安斯利先生的话,很快您就能证明一点。假如您不是,那么我会让您大吃一惊。”
  他按门铃,第三个仆人来了。
  “五分钟后我要用车,”他说。“预备三个人的午餐。”
  然后他就看着我,那目光比什么都可怕。他的眼睛不同寻常——明亮、阴冷、邪恶。我极力以眼还眼,甚至极力装出笑脸。
  “下回再见面您就认识我了,”我说道。
  “卡尔,”他用德语说。“把这个人放到后面的屋里等我回来再说。”
  我被拉出屋去,一边耳朵顶着一枝枪。
  后面的屋黑洞洞的堆满旧瓶子和破箱子。窗户外面安着百叶窗。钥匙插在锁孔里,我可以听到外面卫兵的脚步声。
  我坐下来,感到心情很不好。那个老头去叫他的朋友,那些人在我装修路人的时候和我说过话。他们很快就会知道我既不是修路人,也不是安斯利先生而是理查德·哈内。我想还不如让警察抓
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