It was nine-thirty in the morning of yet another beautiful day of this beautiful year, but, in Hyde Park, the fragrance1 of burning leaves meant that winter was only just round the corner. Bond had nothing on his mind except the frustration2 of waiting for Station Z somehow to penetrate3 the reserves of the Swiss Securite and come up with the exact address of Blofeld. But their 'friends' in Zurich were continuing to prove obtuse4, or, more probably, obstinate5. There was no trace of any man, either tourist or resident, called Blofeld in the whole of Switzerland. Nor was there any evidence of the existence of a reborn SPECTRE on Swiss soil. Yes, they fully6 realized that Blofeld was still urgently 'wanted' by the governments of the NATO alliance. They had carefully filed all the circulars devoted7 to the apprehension8 of this man, and for the past year he had been constantly reconfirmed on their 'watch' lists at all frontier posts. They were very sorry, but unless the SIS could come up with further information or evidence about this man, they must assume that the SIS was acting9 on mistaken evidence. Station Z had asked for an examination of the secret lists at the banks, a search through those anonymous10 'numbered' accounts which conceal11 the owners of most of the fugitive12 money in the world. This request had been peremptorily13 refused. Blofeld was certainly a great criminal, but the Securite must point out that such information could only be legally obtained if the criminal in question was guilty of some crime committed on Federal soil and indictable under the Federal Code. It was true that this Blofeld had held up Britain and America to ransom14 by his illegal possession of atomic weapons. But this could not be considered a crime under the laws of Switzerland, and particularly not having regard to Article 4?B of the banking15 laws. So that was that! The Holy Franc, and the funds which backed it, wherever they came from, must remain untouchable. Wir bitten hoflichst um Entschuldigung!
Bond wondered if he should get in touch with Marc-Ange. So far, in his report, he had revealed only a lead into the union Corse, whom he gave, corporately16, as the source of his information. But he shied away from this course of action, which would surely have, as one consequence, the reopening with Marc-Ange of the case of Tracy. And that corner of his life, of his heart, he wanted to leave undisturbed for the time being. Their last evening together had passed quietly, almost as if they had been old friends, old lovers. Bond had said that Universal Export was sending him abroad for some time. They would certainly meet when he returned to Europe. The girl had accepted this arrangement. She herself had decided17 to go away for a rest. She had been doing too much. She had been on the verge18 of a nervous breakdown19. She would wait for him. Perhaps they could go skiing together around Christmas time? Bond had been enthusiastic. That night, after a wonderful dinner at Bond's little restaurant, they had made love, happily, and this time without desperation, without tears. Bond was satisfied that the cure had really begun. He felt deeply protective towards her. But he knew that their relationship, and her equanimity20, rested on a knife-edge which must not be disturbed.
It was at this moment in his reflections that the Syncra-phone in his trouser pocket began to bleep. Bond accelerated out of the park and drew up beside the public telephone booth at Marble Arch. The Syncraphone had recently been introduced and was carried by all officers attached to Headquarters. It was a light plastic radio receiver about the size of a pocket watch. When an officer was somewhere in London, within a range of ten miles of Headquarters, he could be bleeped on the receiver. When this happened, it was his duty to go at once to the nearest telephone and contact his office. He was urgently needed.
Bond rang his exchange on the only outside number he was allowed to use, said '007 reporting,' and was at once put through to his secretary. She was a new one. Loelia Ponsonby had at last left to marry a dull, but worthy21 and rich member of the Baltic Exchange, and confined her contacts with her old job to rather yearning22 Christmas and birthday cards to the members of the Double-O Section. But the new one, Mary Goodnight, an ex-Wren with blue-black hair, blue eyes, and 37-22-35, was a honey and there was a private five-pound sweep in the Section as to who would get her first. Bond had been lying equal favourite with the ex-Royal Marine23 Commando who was 006 but, since Tracy, had dropped out of the field and now regarded himself as a rank outsider, though he still, rather bitchily, flirted24 with her. Now he said to her,' Good morning, Goodnight. What can I do for you? Is it war or peace?'
She giggled26 unprofessionally. 'It sounds fairly peaceful, as peaceful as a hurry message from upstairs can be. You're to go at once to the College of Arms and ask for Griffon Or.'
'Or what?'
'Just Or. Oh, and he's Pursuivant as well, whatever that means. He's one of the Heralds27. Apparently28 they've got some kind of a line on "Bedlam29".'
'Bedlam' was the code name for the pursuit of Blofeld. Bond said respectfully, 'Have they indeed? Then I'd better get cracking. Goodbye, Goodnight.' He heard her giggle25 before he put the receiver down.
Now what the hell? Bond got back into his car, that had mercifully not yet attracted the police or the traffic wardens30, and motored fast across London. This was a queer one. How the hell did the College of Arms, of which he knew very little except that they hunted up people's family trees, allotted31 coats of arms, and organized various royal ceremonies, get into the act?
The College of Arms is in Queen Victoria Street on the fringe of the City. It is a pleasant little Queen Anne backwater in ancient red brick with white sashed windows and a convenient cobbled courtyard, where Bond parked his car. There are horseshoe-shaped stone stairs leading up to an impressive entrance, over which, that day, there hung a banner showing a splendid heraldic beast, half animal and half bird, in gold against a pale blue background. Griffon, thought Bond. Made of Or. He went through the door into a large gloomy hall whose dark panelling was lined with the musty portraits of proud-looking gentlemen in ruffs and lace, and from whose cornice hung the banners of the Commonwealth32. The porter, a kindly33, soft-spoken man in a cherry-coloured uniform with brass34 buttons, asked Bond what he could do for him. Bond asked for the Griffon Or and confirmed that he had an appointment.
'Ah yes, sir,' said the porter mysteriously.' Griffon Or is in waiting this week. That is why his banner is flying outside. This way please, sir.'
Bond followed the porter along a passage hung with gleaming coats of arms in carved wood, up a dank, cobwebby staircase, and round a corner to a heavy door over which was written in gold 'Griffon Or Pursuivant' under a representation of the said golden griffon. The porter knocked, opened the door and announced Bond, and left him facing, across an unkempt study Uttered with books, papers, and important-looking inscribed35 parchments, the top of a bald, round pink head fringed with grizzled curls. The room smelt36 like the crypt of a church. Bond walked down the narrow lane of carpet left between the piles of litter and stood beside the single chair that faced the man behind the books on the desk. He cleared his throat. The man looked up and the Pickwickian, pince-nez'd face broke into an absent smile. He got to his feet and made a little bow. 'Bond,' he said in a voice that creaked like the lid of an old chest. 'Commander James Bond. Now then, Bond, Bond, Bond. I think I've got you here." He had kept his finger at the open page of a vast tome. He now sat down and Bond followed suit. 'Yes, yes, yes. Very interesting indeed. Very. But I fear I have to disappoint you, my dear sir. The title is extinct. Actually it's a baronetcy. Most desirable. But no doubt we can establish a relationship through a collateral37 branch. Now then' - he put his pince-nez very close to the page - 'we have some ten different families of Bonds. The important one ended with Sir Thomas Bond, a most distinguished38 gentleman. He resided in Peckhain. He had, alas39, no issue' - the pince-nez gleamed encouragingly at Bond - 'no legitimate40 issue that is. Of course in those days, ahem, morals were inclined to be laxer. Now if we could establish some connexion with Peckham…'
'I have no connexion with Peckham. Now, I…'
Griffon Or held up his hand. He said severely41, 'Where did your parents come from, if I may ask? That, my dear fellow, is the first step in the chain. Then we can go back from there -Somerset House, parish records, old tomb-stones. No doubt, with a good old English name like yours, we will get somewhere in the end.'
'My father was a Scot and my mother was Swiss. But the point is…'
'Quite, quite. You are wondering about the cost of the research. That, my dear fellow, we can leave until later. But, now tell me. From whereabouts in Scotland did your father come? That is important. The Scottish records are of course less fully documented than those from the South. In those days I am forced to admit that our cousins across the border were little more than savages42.' Griffon Or bobbed his head politely. He gave a fleeting43 and, to Bond's eye, rather false smile. 'Very pleasant savages, of course, very brave and all that. But, alas, very weak at keeping up their records. More useful with the sword than with the pen, if I may say so. But perhaps your grandparents and their forebears came from the South?'
'My father came from the Highlands, from near Glencoe. But look here…'
But Griffon Or was not to be diverted from the scent44. He pulled another thick book towards him. His finger ran down the page of small print. 'Hum. Hum. Hum. Yes, yes. Not very encouraging, I fear. Burke's General Armory45 gives more than ten different families bearing your name. But, alas, nothing in Scotland. Not that that means there is no Scottish branch. Now, perhaps you have other relatives living. So often in these matters there is some distant cousin…' Griffon Or reached into the pocket of the purple-flowered silk waistcoat that buttoned almost up to his neat bow tie, fished out a small silver snuff-box, offered it to Bond and then himself took two tremendous sniffs46. He exploded twice into an ornate bandana handkerchief.
Bond took his opportunity. He leaned forward and said distinctly and forcibly, 'I didn't come here to talk about myself. It's about Blofeld.'
'What's that?' Griffon Or looked at him in astonishment47. 'You are not interested in your line of descent?' He held up an admonishing48 finger. 'Do you realize, my dear fellow, that if we are successful, you may be able to claim direct' - he hesitated - 'or at any rate collateral descent from an ancient baronetcy founded' - he went back to his first volume and peered at it - 'in the year 1658! Does it not excite you that a possible ancestor of yours was responsible for the name of one of the most famous streets in the world -1 refer of course to Bond Street? That was the Sir Thomas Bond, Baronet of Peckham in the County of Surrey, who, as you are no doubt aware, was Comptroller of the household of the Queen Mother, Henrietta Maria. The street was built in 1686 and its associations with famous British folk are, of course, well known. The first Duke of St Albans, son of Nell Gwynn, lived there, as did Laurence Sterne. Boswell's famous dinner party took place there, with Johnson, Reynolds, Goldsmith, and Garrick being present. Dean Swift and Canning were residents at different times, and it is intriguing49 to recall that while Lord Nelson lived at number 141, Lady Hamilton lived at number 145. And this, my dear sir, is the great thoroughfare of which you bear the name! Do you still wish to establish no claim to this vastly distinguished connexion? No?' The bushy eyebrows50, raised in astonishment, were now lowered in further admonishment51. 'This is the very warp52 and woof of history, my dear Commander Bond.' He reached for another volume that lay open on his desk and that he had obviously prepared for Bond's delectation. 'The coat of arms, for instance. Surely that must concern you, be at least of profound interest to your family, to your own children? Yes, here we are. "Argent on a chevron53 sable54 three bezants ".' He held up the book so that Bond could see. 'A bezant is a golden ball, as I am sure you know. Three balls.'
Bond commented drily, 'That is certainly a valuable bonus' - the irony55 was lost on Griffon Or - 'but I'm afraid I am still not interested. And I have no relatives and no children. Now about this man…'
Griffon Or broke in excitedly, 'And this charming motto of the line, "The World is not Enough". You do not wish to have the right to it?'
'It is an excellent motto which I shall certainly adopt,' said Bond curtly56. He looked pointedly57 at his watch. 'Now, I'm afraid we really must get down to business. I have to report back to my Ministry58.'
Griffon Or Pursuivant looked genuinely affronted59. 'And here is a name going back at least to Norman le Bond in 1180! A fine old English name, though one perhaps originally of lowly origin. The Dictionary of British Surnames suggests that the meaning is clearly "husbandman, peasant, churl60".' Was there an edge of malice61 in the Griffon's watery62 eye? He added with resignation, 'But, if you are not interested in your ancestry63, in the womb of your family, then, my dear sir, in what can I be of service?'
At last! James Bond let out a sigh of relief. He said patiently, 'I came here to inquire about a certain Blofeld, Ernst Stavro Blofeld. It seems that your organization has some information about this man.'
Griffon Or's eyes were suddenly suspicious. 'But you represented yourself as a Commander James Bond. And now the name is Blofeld. How does this come about?'
Bond said icily, 'I am from the Ministry of Defence. Somewhere in this building is information about a man called Blofeld. Where can I find it?'
Griffon Or ran a puzzled hand round his halo of curls. 'Blofeld, is it? Well, well.' He looked accusingly at Bond. 'Forgive me, but you certainly have wasted plenty of my, of the College's time. Commander Bond. It is a mystery to me why you did not mention this man's name before. Now let me see, Blofeld, Blofeld. Seem to recall that it came up at one of our Chapter meetings the other day. Now who had the case? Ah, yes.' He reached for a telephone among the nest of books and papers. 'Give me Sable Basilisk.'
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1
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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3
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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obtuse
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| adj.钝的；愚钝的 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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10
anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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14
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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corporately
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| adv.团结地，共同地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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breakdown
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| n.垮，衰竭；损坏，故障，倒塌 | |
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equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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flirted
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27
heralds
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| n.使者( herald的名词复数 )；预报者；预兆；传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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bedlam
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| n.混乱，骚乱；疯人院 | |
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wardens
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| n.看守人( warden的名词复数 )；管理员；监察员；监察官 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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commonwealth
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| n.共和国，联邦，共同体 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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collateral
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| adj.平行的；旁系的；n.担保品 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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45
armory
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| n.纹章，兵工厂，军械库 | |
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46
sniffs
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的第三人称单数 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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47
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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48
admonishing
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| v.劝告( admonish的现在分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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49
intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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50
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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51
admonishment
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| n.警告 | |
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52
warp
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| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
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53
chevron
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| n.V形臂章；V形图案 | |
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54
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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55
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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56
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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57
pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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58
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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59
affronted
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| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
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60
churl
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| n.吝啬之人；粗鄙之人 | |
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61
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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62
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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63
ancestry
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| n.祖先，家世 | |
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