I had to look at what was underneath for a long time. My eyes saw it, but it took a while for my mind to catch up. It was an envelope, carefully wrapped in a plastic bag to keep away the damp. My name was written across the front in Andy's clear script. I took the envelope and left the rock where Andy had left it, and Andy's friend before him.
Dear Red,
If you're reading this, then you're out. One way or another, you're out. And If you've followed along this far, you might be willing to come a little further. I think you remember the name of the town, don't you? I could use a good man to help me get my project on wheels.
Meantime, have a drink on me - and do think it over. I will be keeping an eye out for you. Remember that hope is a good thing, Red, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well.
Your friend, Peter Stevens I didn't read that letter in the field. A kind of terror had come over me, a need to get away from there before I was seen. To make what may be an appropriate pun, I was in terror of being apprehended.
I went back to my room and read it there, with the smell of old men's dinners drifting up the stairwell to me - Beefaroni, Ricearoni, Noodleroni. You can bet that whatever the old folks of America, the ones on fixed incomes, are eating tonight, it almost certainly ends in roni.
I opened the envelope and read the letter and then I put my head in my arms and cried. With the letter there were twenty new fifty-dollar bills.
And here I am in the Brewster Hotel, technically a fugitive from justice again - parole violation is my crime. No one's going to throw up any roadblocks to catch a criminal wanted on that charge, I guess - wondering what I should do now.
I have this manuscript I have a small piece of luggage about the size of a doctor's bag that holds everything I own. I have nineteen fifties, four tens, a five, three ones, and assorted change. I broke one of the fifties to buy this tablet of paper and a deck of smokes.
Wondering what I should do.
But there's really no question. It always comes down to just two choices. Get busy living or get busy dying.
First I'm going to put this manuscript back in my bag. Then I'm going to buckle it up, grab my coat, go downstairs, and check out of this fleabag. Then I'm going to walk uptown to a bar and put that five dollar bill down in front of the bartender and ask him to bring me two straight shots of Jack Daniels - one for me and one for Andy Dufresne. Other than a beer or two, they'll be the first drinks I've taken as a free man since 1938. Then I am going to tip the bartender a dollar and thank him kindly. I will leave the bar and walk up Spring Street to the Greyhound terminal there and buy a bus ticket to El Paso by way of New York City. When I get to El Paso, I'm going to buy a ticket to McNary. And when I get to McNary, I guess I'll have a chance to find out if an old crook like me can find a way to float across the border and into Mexico.
Sure I remember the name. Zihuatanejo. A name like that is just too pretty to forget.
I find I am excited, so excited I can hardly hold the pencil in my trembling hand. I think it is the excitement that only a free man can feel, a free man starting a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain.
I hope Andy is down there.
I hope I can make it across the border.
I hope to see my friend and shake his hand.
I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams.
I hope.

　　我看着石头下的东西许久、许久，我的眼睛早就看到了，但是我的脑子得花一点时间，才能真正意识到是怎么回事。下面赫然放着一个信封，信封很小心地包在透明的塑胶袋中，以避免弄湿。上面写着我的名字，是安迪整齐的字迹。
　　我拿起信封，把石头放回安迪和他已过世的朋友原先放置的地方。
　　亲爱的雷德：
　　如果你看到这封信的话，那表示你也出来了。不管你是怎么出来的，总之你出来了。如果你已经找到这里，你或许愿意往前再多走一点路，我想你一定还记得那个小镇的名字吧？我需要一个好帮手，帮我把业务推上轨道。
　　为我喝一杯，同时好好考虑一下。我会一直留意你的情况。记住，“希望”是个好东西，也许是世间最好的东西，好东西永远不会消逝的。我希望这封信会找到你，而且找到你的时候，你过得很好。
　　你的朋友
　　彼得·斯蒂芬
　　我没有当场打开这封信。一阵恐惧袭来，我只希望在别人看到我之前尽快离开那里。
　　回到自己房间以后，我才打开信来读，楼梯口飘来阵阵老人煮晚餐的香味——不外乎是些粉面类的食物，美国每个低收入的老人家晚上几乎都吃这些东西。
　　看完信后，我抱头痛哭起来，信封里还附了二十张新的五十元钞票。
　　我现在身在布鲁斯特旅馆，再度成了逃犯——违反假释条例是我的罪名。但是我猜，大概没有警察会大费周章地设置路障，来逮捕这样一个犯人吧——我在想，我现在该怎么办？
　　我手上有这份稿子，还有一个行李袋，大小和医生的医药包差不多大，所有的财产都在里面。我有十九张五十元钞票、四张十元钞票、一张五元钞票和三张一元钞票，还有一些零钱。我拿一张五十元钞票去买了这本笔记本和一包烟。
　　我还在想，我该怎么办？
　　但毫无疑问，只有两条路可走。使劲活下去，或使劲找死。
　　首先，我要把这份手稿放回行李袋。然后我要把袋子扣上，拿起外套走下楼去，结账离开这家廉价旅馆。然后，我要走进一家酒吧，把一张五元钞票放在酒保面前，要他给我来两杯威士忌，一杯给我自己，一杯给安迪。这将是我从一九三八年入狱以来，第一次以自由人的身份喝酒。喝完后，我会给酒保一元小费，好好谢谢他。离开酒吧后，我便走向灰狗巴士站，买一张经由纽约到艾尔帕索的车票。到了艾尔帕索之后，再买一张车票到麦克纳里。等我到了麦克纳里后，我猜我会想想办法，看看像我这样的老骗子能否找机会跨过边境，进入墨西哥。
　　我当然记得那个小镇的名字，齐华坦尼荷，这名字太美了，令人忘不了。
　　我发现自己兴奋莫名，颤抖的手几乎握不住笔。我想惟有自由人才能感受到这种兴奋，一个自由人步上漫长的旅程，奔向不确定的未来。
　　我希望安迪在那儿。
　　我希望我能成功跨越美墨边界。
　　我希望能见到我的朋友，和他握握手。
　　我希望太平洋就和我梦中所见的一样蔚蓝。
　　我希望……