Everything conspired1 to make him sleep-the hasty metal gallop3 of the wheels, the hypnotic swoop4 of the silver telegraph wires, the occasional melancholy5, reassuring6 moan of the steam whistle clearing their way, the drowsy7 metallic8 chatter9 of the couplings at each end of the corridor, the lullaby creak of the woodwork in the little room. Even the deep violet glimmer10 of the night-light above the door seemed to say, `I will watch for you. Nothing can happen while I am burning. Close your eyes and sleep, sleep.'
The girl's head was warm and heavy on his lap. There was obviously just room for him to slip under the single sheet and fit close up against her, the front of his thighs11 against the backs of hers, his head in the spread curtain of her hair on the pillow.
Bond screwed up his eyes and opened them again. He cautiously lifted his wrist. Four o'clock. Only one more hour to the Turkish frontier. Perhaps he would be able to sleep during the day. He would give her the gun and wedge the doors again and she could watch.
He looked down at the beautiful sleeping profile. How innocent she looked, this girl from the Russian Secret Service-the lashes12 fringing the soft swell13 of the cheek, the lips parted and unaware14, the long strand15 of hair that had strayed untidily across her forehead and that he wanted to brush back neatly16 to join the rest, the steady slow throb17 of the pulse in the offered neck. He felt a surge of tenderness and the impulse to gather her up in his arms and strain her tight against him. He wanted her to wake, from a dream perhaps, so that he could kiss her and tell her that everything was all right, and see her settle happily back to sleep.
The girl had insisted on sleeping like this. `I won't go to sleep unless you hold me,' she had said. `I must know you're there all the time. It would be terrible to wake up and not be touching18 you. Please James. Please duschka. Bond had taken off his coat and tie and had arranged himself in the corner with his feet up on his suitcase and the Beretta under the pillow within reach of his hand. She had made no comment about the gun. She had taken off all her clothes, except the black ribbon round her throat, and had pretended not to be provocative19 as she scrambled20 impudically into bed and wriggled21 herself into a comfortable position. She had held up her arms to him. Bond had pulled her head back by her hair and had kissed her once, long and cruelly. Then he had told her to go to sleep and had leant back and waited icily for his body to leave him alone. Grumbling22 sleepily, she had settled herself, with one arm flung across his thighs. At first she had held him tightly, but her arm had gradually relaxed and then she was asleep.
Brusquely Bond closed his mind to the thought of her and focused on the journey ahead.
Soon they would be out of Turkey. But would Greece be any easier? No love lost between Greece and England. And Yugoslavia? Whose side was Tito on? Probably both. Whatever the orders of the three M.G.B. men, either they already knew Bond and Tatiana were on the train or they would soon find out. He and the girl couldn't sit for four days in the coupe with the blinds drawn23. Their presence would be reported back to Istanbul, telephoned from some station, and by the morning the loss of the Spektor would be discovered. Then what? A hasty demarche through the Russian embassy in Athens or Belgrade? Have the girl taken off the train as a thief? Or was that all too simple? And if it was more complicated-if all this was part of some mysterious plot, some tortuous24 Russian conspiracy-should he dodge25 it? Should he and the girl leave the train at a wayside station, on the wrong side of the track, and hire a car and somehow get a plane to London?
Outside, the luminous26 dawn had begun to edge the racing27 trees and rocks with blue. Bond looked at his watch. Five o'clock. They would soon be at Uzunkopru. What was going on down the train behind him? What had Kerim achieved?
Bond sat back, relaxed. After all there was a simple, common-sense answer to his problem. If, between them, they could quickly get rid of the three M.G.B. agents, they would stick to the train and to their original plan. If not, Bond would get the girl and the machine off the train, somewhere in Greece, and take another route home. But, if the odds28 improved, Bond was for going on. He and Kerim were resourceful men. Kerim had an agent in Belgrade who was going to meet the train. There was always the Embassy.
Bond's mind raced on adding up the pros29, dismissing the cons2. Behind his reasoning, Bond calmly admitted to himself that he had an insane desire to play the game out and see what it was all about. He wanted to take these people on and solve the mystery and, if it was some sort of a plot, defeat it. M had left him in charge. He had the girl and the machine under his hand. Why panic? What was there to panic about? It would be mad to run away and perhaps only escape one trap in order to fall into another one.
The train gave a long whistle and began to slacken speed.
Now for the first round. If Kerim failed. If the three men stayed on the train. . . .
Some goods-trucks, led by a straining engine, filed by. The silhouette30 of sheds showed briefly31. With a jolt32 and a screech33 of couplings, the Orient Express took the points and swerved34 away from the through line. Four sets of rails with grass growing between them showed outside the window, and the empty length of the down platform. A cock crowed. The express slowed to walking speed and finally, with a sigh of vacuum brakes and a noisy whoosh35 of let-off steam, ground to a stop. The girl stirred in her sleep. Bond softly shifted her head on to the pillow and got up and slipped out of the door.
It was a typical Balkan wayside station-a facade36 of dour37 buildings in over-pointed stone, a dusty expanse of platform, not raised, but level with the ground so that there was a long step down from the train, some chickens pecking about and a few drab officials standing38 idly, unshaven, not even trying to look important. Up towards the cheap half of the train, a chattering39 horde40 of peasants with bundles and wicker baskets waited for the customs and passport control so that they could clamber aboard and join the swarm41 inside.
Across the platform from Bond was a closed door with a sign over it which said POLIS. Through the dirty window beside the door Bond thought he caught a glimpse of the head and shoulders of Kerim.
`Passeports. Douanes!'
A plain-clothes man and two policemen in dark green uniform with pistol holsters at their black belts entered the corridor. The wagon-lit conductor preceded them, knocking on the doors.
At the door of No. 12 the conductor made an indignant speech in Turkish, holding out the stack of tickets and passports and fanning them as if they were a pack of cards. When he had finished, the plain-clothes man, beckoning42 forward the two policemen, knocked smartly on the door and, when it was opened, stepped inside. The two policemen stood guard behind him.
Bond edged down the corridor. He could hear a jumble43 of bad German. One voice was cold, the other was frightened and hot. The passport and ticket of Herr Kurt Goldfarb were missing. Had Herr Goldfarb removed them from the conductor's cabin? Certainly not. Had Herr Goldfarb in truth ever surrendered his papers to the conductor? Naturally. Then the matter was unfortunate. An inquiry44 would have to be held. No doubt the German Legation in Istanbul would put the matter right (Bond smiled at this suggestion). Meanwhile, it was regretted that Herr Goldfarb could not continue his journey. No doubt he would be able to proceed tomorrow. Herr Goldfarb would get dressed. His luggage would be transported to the waiting-room.
The M.G.B. man who erupted into the corridor was the dark Caucasian type man, the junior of the `visitors'. His sallow face was grey with fear. His hair was awry45 and he was dressed only in the bottom half of his pyjamas46. But there was nothing comical about his desperate flurry down the corridor. He brushed past Bond. At the door of No. 6 he paused and pulled himself together. He knocked with tense control. The door opened on the chain and Bond glimpsed a thick nose and part of a moustache. The chain was slipped and Goldfarb went in. There was silence, during which the plain-clothes man dealt with the papers of two elderly French women in 9 and 10, and then with Bond's.
The officer barely glanced at Bond's passport. He snapped it shut and handed it to the conductor. `You are travelling with Kerim Bey?' he asked in French. His eyes were remote.
`Yes.'
`Merci, Monsieur. Bon voyage.' The man saluted47. He turned and rapped sharply on the door of No. 6. The door opened and he went in.
Five minutes later the door was flung back. The plain-clothes man, now erect48 with authority, beckoned49 forward the policemen. He spoke50 to them harshly in Turkish. He turned back to the coupe. `Consider yourself under arrest, Meln Herr. Attempted bribery51 of officials is a grave crime in Turkey/ There was an angry clamour in Goldfarb's bad German. It was cut short by one hard sentence in Russian. A different Goldfarb, a Goldfarb with madman's eyes, emerged and walked blindly down the corridor and went into No. 12. A policeman stood outside the door and waited.
`And your papers, Mein Herr. Please step forward. I must verify this photograph.' The plain-clothes man held the green-backed German passport up to the light. `Forward please.'
Reluctantly, his heavy face pale with anger, the M.G.B. man who called himself Benz stepped out into the corridor in a brilliant blue silk dressing-gown. The hard brown eyes looked straight into Bond's, ignoring him.
The plain-clothes man slapped the passport shut and handed it to the conductor. `Your papers are in order, Mein Herr. And now, if you please, the baggage.' He went in, followed by the second policeman. The M.G.B. man turned his blue back on Bond and watched the search.
Bond noticed the bulge52 under the left arm of the dressing-gown, and the ridge53 of a belt round the waist. He wondered if he should tip off the plain-clothes man. He decided54 it would be better to keep quiet. He might be hauled in as a witness.
The search was over. The plain-clothes man saluted coldly and moved on down the corridor. The M.G.B. man went back into No. 6 and slammed the door behind him.
Pity, thought Bond. One had got away.
Bond turned back to the window. A bulky man, wearing a grey Homburg, and with an angry boil on the back of his neck, was being escorted through the door marked POLIS. Down the corridor a door slammed. Goldfarb, escorted by the policeman, stepped down off the train. With bent55 head, he walked across the dusty platform and disappeared through the same door.
The engine whistled, a new kind of whistle, the brave shrill56 blast of a Greek engine-driver. The door of the wagon-lit carriage clanged shut. The plain-clothes man and the second policeman appeared walking over to the station. The guard at the back of the train looked at his watch and held out his flag. There was a jerk and a diminishing crescendo57 of explosive puffs58 from the engine and the front section of the Orient Express began to move. The section that would be taking the northern route through the Iron Curtain-through Svilengrad on the Bulgarian frontier, only fifty miles away-was left beside the dusty platform, waiting.
Bond pulled down the window and took a last look back at the Turkish frontier, where two men would be sitting in a bare room under what amounted to sentence of death. Two birds down, he thought. Two out of three. The odds looked more respectable.
He watched the dead, dusty platform, with its chickens and the small black figure of the guard, until the long train took the points and jerked harshly on to the single main line. He looked away across the ugly, parched59 countryside towards the golden guinea sun climbing out of the Turkish plain. It was going to be a beautiful day.
Bond drew his head in out of the cool, sweet morning air. He pulled up the window with a bang.
He had made up his mind. He would stay on the train and see the thing through.
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1
conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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2
cons
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| n.欺骗，骗局( con的名词复数 )v.诈骗，哄骗( con的第三人称单数 ) | |
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3
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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swoop
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| n.俯冲，攫取；v.抓取，突然袭击 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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9
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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11
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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12
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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13
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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17
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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18
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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provocative
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| adj.挑衅的，煽动的，刺激的，挑逗的 | |
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20
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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21
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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22
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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23
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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24
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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25
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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26
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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27
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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28
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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29
pros
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| abbr.prosecuting 起诉；prosecutor 起诉人；professionals 自由职业者；proscenium （舞台）前部n.赞成的意见( pro的名词复数 )；赞成的理由；抵偿物；交换物 | |
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30
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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31
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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32
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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33
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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34
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
whoosh
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| v.飞快地移动，呼 | |
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36
facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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37
dour
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| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
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38
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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39
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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40
horde
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| n.群众，一大群 | |
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41
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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42
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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43
jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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44
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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45
awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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46
pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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47
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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48
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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49
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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51
bribery
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| n.贿络行为，行贿，受贿 | |
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52
bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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53
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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54
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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55
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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56
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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57
crescendo
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| n.(音乐)渐强，高潮 | |
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58
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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