From our quiet retreat in the Ardennes we watched the progress of affairs in the great world. We were plentifully1 supplied with newspapers, and every day Poirot received a bulky envelope, evidently containing some kind of report. He never showed these reports to me, but I could usually tell from his manner whether its contents had been satisfactory or otherwise. He never wavered in his belief that our present plan was the only one likely to be crowned by success.
"As a minor2 point, Hastings," he remarked one day, "I was in continual fear of your death lying at my door. And that rendered me nervous—like a cat upon the jumps, as you say. But now I am well satisfied. Even if they discover that the Captain Hastings who landed in South America is an imposter (and I do not think they will discover it, they are not likely to send an agent out there who knows you personally), they will only believe that you are trying to circumvent3 them in some clever manner of your own, and will pay no serious attention to discovering your whereabouts. Of the one vital fact, my supposed death, they are thoroughly4 convinced. They will go ahead and mature their plans."
"And then?" I asked eagerly.
"And then, mon ami, grand resurrection of Hercule Poirot! At the eleventh hour I reappear, throw all into confusion, and achieve the supreme5 victory in my own unique manner!"
I realised that Poirot's vanity was of the case-hardened variety which could withstand all attacks. I reminded him that once or twice the honours of the game had lain with our adversaries6. But I might have known that it was impossible to diminish Hercule Poirot's enthusiasm for his own methods.
"See you, Hastings, it is like the little trick that you play with the cards. You have seen it without doubt? You take the four knaves7, you divide them, one on top of the pack, one underneath8, and so on—you cut and you shuffle9, and there they are all together again. That is my object. So far I have been contending, now against one of the Big Four, now against another. But let me get them all together, like the four knaves in the pack of cards, and then, with one coup10, I destroy them all!"
"And how do you propose to get them all together?" I asked.
"By awaiting the supreme moment. By lying perdu until they are ready to strike."
"Always impatient, the good Hastings! But no, it will not be so long. The one man they were afraid of—myself—is out of the way. I give them two or three months at most."
His speaking of some one being got out of the way reminded me of Ingles and his tragic12 death, and I remembered that I had never told Poirot about the dying Chinaman in St. Giles' Hospital.
He listened with keen attention to my story.
"Ingles's servant, eh? And the few words he uttered were in Italian? Curious."
"That's why I suspected it might have been a plant on the part of the Big Four."
"Your reasoning is at fault, Hastings. Employ the little gray cells. If your enemies wished to deceive you they would assuredly have seen to it that the Chinaman spoke13 in intelligible14 pigeon English. No, the message was genuine. Tell me again all that you heard?"
"First of all he made a reference to Handel's Largo15, and then he said something that sounded like 'carrozzo'—that's a carriage, isn't it?"
"Nothing else?"
"Well, just at the end he murmured something like 'Cara' somebody or other—some woman's name. Zia, I think. But I don't suppose that that had any bearing on the rest of it."
"You would not suppose so, Hastings. Cara Zia is very important, very important indeed."
"I don't see—"
"My dear friend, you never see—and anyway the English know no geography."
"Geography?" I cried. "What has geography got to do with it?"
"I dare say M. Thomas Cook would be more to the point."
As usual, Poirot refused to say anything more—a most irritating trick of his. But I noticed that his manner became extremely cheerful, as though he had scored some point or other.
The days went on, pleasant if a trifle monotonous16. There were plenty of books in the villa17, and delightful18 rambles19 all around, but I chafed20 sometimes at the forced inactivity of our life, and marvelled21 at Poirot's state of placid22 content. Nothing occurred to ruffle23 our quiet existence, and it was not until the end of June, well within the limit that Poirot had given them, that we had our news of the Big Four.
A car drove up to the villa early one morning, such an unusual event in our peaceful life that I hurried down to satisfy my curiosity. I found Poirot talking to a pleasant-faced young fellow of about my own age.
He introduced me.
"This is Captain Harvey, Hastings, one of the most famous members of your Intelligence Service."
"Not famous at all, I'm afraid," said the young man, laughing pleasantly.
"Not famous except to those in the know, I should have said. Most of Captain Harvey's friends and acquaintances consider him an amiable24 but brainless young man—devoted only to the trot25 of the fox or whatever the dance is called."
We both laughed.
"Well, well, to business," said Poirot. "You are of opinion the time has come, then?"
"We are sure of it, sir. China was isolated26 politically yesterday. What is going on out there, nobody knows. No news of any kind, wireless27 or otherwise, has come through—just a complete break—and silence!"
"Abe Ryland arrived in England a week ago, and left for the Continent yesterday."
"And Madame Olivier?"
"Madame Olivier left Paris last night."
"For Italy?"
"For Italy, sir. As far as we can judge, they are both making for the resort you indicated—though how you knew that—"
"Ah, that is not the cap with the feather for me! That was the work of Hastings here. He conceals29 his intelligence, you comprehend, but it is profound for all that."
Harvey looked at me with due appreciation30, and I felt rather uncomfortable.
"All is in train, then," said Poirot. He was pale now, and completely serious. "The time has come. The arrangements are all made?"
"Everything you ordered has been carried out. The governments of Italy, France and England are behind you, and are all working harmoniously31 together."
"It is, in fact, a new Entente," observed Poirot dryly. "I am glad that Desjardeaux is convinced at last. Eh bien, then, we will start—or rather, I will start. You, Hastings, will remain here—yes, I pray of you. In verity32, my friend, I am serious."
I believed him, but it was not likely that I should consent to being left behind in that fashion. Our argument was short but decisive.
It was not until we were in the train, speeding towards Paris that he admitted that he was secretly glad of my decision.
"For you have a part to play, Hastings. An important part! Without you, I might well fail. Nevertheless, I felt that it was my duty to urge you to remain behind."
"There is danger, then?"
"Mon ami, where there is the Big Four there is always danger."
On arrival in Paris, we drove across to the Gare de l'Est, and Poirot at last announced our destination. We were bound for Bolzano and Italian Tyrol.
During Harvey's absence from our carriage I took the opportunity of asking Poirot why he had said that the discovery of the rendezvous33 was my work.
"Because it was, my friend. How Ingles managed to get hold of the information I do not know, but he did, and he sent it to us by his servant. We are bound, mon ami for Karersee, the new Italian name for which is Lago di Carezza. You see now where your 'Cara Zia' comes in and also your 'Carrozza' and 'Largo'—the Handel was supplied by your own imagination. Possibly some reference to the information coming from the 'hand' of M. Ingles started the train of association."
"I always tell you that the English know no geography. But as a matter of fact it is a well-known and very beautiful summer resort, four thousand feet up, in the heart of the Dolomites."
"And it is in this out of the way spot that the Big Four have their rendezvous?"
"Say rather their headquarters. The signal has been given and it is their intention to disappear from the world and issue orders from their mountain fastness. I have made the inquiries—a lot of quarrying35 of stone and mineral deposits is done there, and the company, apparently36 a small Italian firm, is in reality controlled by Abe Ryland. I am prepared to swear that a vast subterranean37 dwelling38 has been hollowed out in the very heart of the mountain, secret and inaccessible39. From there the leaders of the organisation40 will issue by wireless their orders to their followers41 who are numbered by thousands in every country. And from that crag in the Dolomites the dictators of the world will emerge. That is to say—they would emerge were it not for Hercule Poirot."
"Do you seriously believe all this, Poirot? What about the armies and general machinery42 of civilisation43?"
"What about it in Russia, Hastings? This will be Russia on an infinitely44 larger scale—and with this additional menace—that Madame Olivier's experiments have proceeded further than she has ever given out. I believe that she has, to a certain extent, succeeded in liberating45 atomic energy and harnessing it to her purpose. Her experiments with the nitrogen of the air have been very remarkable46, and she has also experimented in the concentration of wireless energy, so that a beam of great intensity47 can be focused upon some given spot. Exactly how far she has progressed, nobody knows, but it is certain that it is much farther than has ever been given out. She is a genius, that woman—the Curies were as nothing to her. Add to her genius the powers of Ryland's almost unlimited48 wealth, and, with the brain of Li Chang Yen, the finest criminal brain ever known, to direct and plan—eh bien, it will not be, as you say, all jam for civilisation."
His words made me very thoughtful. Although Poirot was given at times to exaggeration of language, he was not really an alarmist. For the first time I realised what a desperate struggle it was upon which we were engaged.
Harvey soon rejoined us and the journey went on.
We arrived at Bolzano about midday. From there the journey on was by motor. Several big blue motor-cars were waiting in the central square of the town, and we three got into one of them. Poirot, notwithstanding the heat of the day, was muffled49 to the eyes in greatcoat and scarf. His eyes and the tips of his ears were all that could be seen of him.
I did not know whether this was due to precaution or merely his exaggerated fear of catching50 a chill. The motor journey took a couple of hours. It was a really wonderful drive. For the first part of the way we wound in and out of huge cliffs, with a trickling51 waterfall on one hand. Then we emerged into a fertile valley, which continued for some miles, and then, still winding52 steadily53 upwards54, the bare rocky peaks began to show with dense55 clustering pine woods at their base. The whole place was wild and lovely. Finally a series of abrupt56 curves, with the road running through the pine woods on either side, and we came suddenly upon a big hotel and found that we had arrived.
Our rooms had been reserved for us, and under Harvey's guidance we went straight up to them. They looked straight out over the rocky peaks and the long slopes of pine woods leading up to them. Poirot made a gesture towards them.
"It is there?" he asked in a low voice.
"Yes," replied Harvey. "There is a place called the Felsenlabyrynth—all big boulders57 piled about in a most fantastic way—a path winds through them. The quarrying is to the right of that, but we think that the entrance is probably in the Felsenlabyrynth."
Poirot nodded.
"Come, mon ami," he said to me. "Let us go down and sit upon the terrace and enjoy the sunlight."
"You think that wise?" I asked.
The sunlight was marvellous—in fact the glare was almost too great for me. We had some creamy coffee instead of tea, then went upstairs and unpacked59 our few belongings60. Poirot was in his most unapproachable mood, lost in a kind of reverie. Once or twice he shook his head and sighed.
I had been rather intrigued61 by a man who had got out of our train at Bolzano, and had been met by a private car. He was a small man, and the thing about him that had attracted my attention was that he was almost as much muffled up as Poirot had been. More so, indeed, for in addition to greatcoat and muffler, he was wearing huge blue spectacles. I was convinced that here we had an emissary of the Big Four. Poirot did not seem very impressed by my idea, but when, leaning out of my bedroom window, I reported that the man in question was strolling about in the vicinity of the hotel, he admitted that there might be something in it.
I urged my friend not to go down to dinner, but he insisted on doing so. We entered the dining-room rather late, and were shown to a table by the window. As we sat down, our attention was attracted by an exclamation62 and a crash of falling china. A dish of haricots verts had been upset over a man who was sitting at the table next to ours.
The head waiter came up and was vociferous63 in apologies.
Presently, when the offending waiter was serving us with soup, Poirot spoke to him.
"An unfortunate accident, that. But it was not your fault."
"Monsieur saw that? No, indeed it was not my fault. The gentleman half sprung up from his chair—I thought he was going to have an attack of some kind. I could not save the catastrophe64."
I saw Poirot's eyes shining with the green light I knew so well, and as the waiter departed he said to me in a low voice:—
"You see, Hastings, the effect of Hercule Poirot—alive and in the flesh?"
"You think—"
I had not time to continue. I felt Poirot's hand on my knee, as he whispered excitedly:
"Look, Hastings, look. His trick with the bread! Number Four!"
Sure enough, the man at the next table to ours, his face unusually pale, was dabbing65 a small piece of bread mechanically about the table.
I studied him carefully. His face, clean-shaven and puffily fat, was of a pasty, unhealthy sallowness, with heavy pouches66 under the eyes and deep lines running from his nose to the corners of his mouth. His age might have been anything from thirty-five to forty-five. In no particular did he resemble any one of the characters which Number Four had previously67 assumed. Indeed, had it not been for his little trick with the bread, of which he was evidently quite unaware68, I would have sworn readily enough that the man sitting there was some one whom I had never seen before.
"He has recognised you," I murmured. "You should not have come down."
"To startle Number Four?"
"To startle him at a moment when he must act quickly or not at all. And we have this great advantage—he does not know that we recognise him. He thinks that he is safe in his new disguise. How I bless Flossie Monro for telling us of that little habit of his."
"What will happen now?" I asked.
"What can happen? He recognises the only man he fears, miraculously70 resurrected from the dead, at the very minute when the plans of the Big Four are in the balance. Madame Olivier and Abe Ryland lunched here to-day, and it is thought that they went to Cortina. Only we know that they have retired71 to their hiding place. How much do we know? That is what Number Four is asking himself at this minute. He dare take no risks. I must be suppressed at all costs. Eh bien, let him try to suppress Hercule Poirot! I shall be ready for him."
As he finished speaking, the man at the next table got up and went out.
"He has gone to make his little arrangements," said Poirot placidly72. "Shall we have our coffee on the terrace, my friend? It would be pleasanter, I think. I will just go up and get a coat."
I went out on to the terrace, a little disturbed in mind. Poirot's assurance did not quite content me. However, so long as we were on our guard, nothing could happen to us. I resolved to keep thoroughly on the alert.
It was quite five minutes before Poirot joined me. With his usual precautions against cold, he was muffled up to the ears. He sat down beside me and sipped73 his coffee appreciatively.
"Only in England is the coffee so atrocious," he remarked. "On the continent they understand how important it is for the digestion74 that it should be properly made."
As he finished speaking, the man from the next table suddenly appeared on the terrace. Without any hesitation75, he came over and drew up a third chair to our table.
"You do not mind my joining you, I hope," he said in English.
"Not at all, monsieur," said Poirot.
I felt very uneasy. It is true that we were on the terrace of the hotel, with people all round us, but nevertheless I was not satisfied. I sensed the presence of danger.
Meanwhile Number Four chatted away in a perfectly76 natural manner. It seemed impossible to believe that he was anything but a bona fide tourist. He described excursions and motor trips, and posed as quite an authority on the neighbourhood.
He took a pipe from his pocket and began to light it. Poirot drew out his case of tiny cigarettes. As he placed one between his lips, the stranger leant forward with a match.
"Let me give you a light."
As he spoke, without the least warning, all the lights went out. There was a chink of glass, and something pungent under my nose, suffocating me—
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1
plentifully
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| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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circumvent
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| vt.环绕，包围；对…用计取胜，智胜 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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adversaries
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| n.对手，敌手( adversary的名词复数 ) | |
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knaves
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| n.恶棍，无赖( knave的名词复数 )；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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shuffle
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coup
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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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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intelligible
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largo
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monotonous
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villa
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delightful
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rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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marvelled
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placid
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ruffle
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amiable
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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isolated
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wireless
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yen
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conceals
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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appreciation
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harmoniously
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verity
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rendezvous
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queried
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quarrying
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| v.采石；从采石场采得( quarry的现在分词 )；从（书本等中）努力发掘（资料等）；在采石场采石 | |
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apparently
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subterranean
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dwelling
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inaccessible
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organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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liberating
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| 解放，释放( liberate的现在分词 ) | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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unlimited
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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57
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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unpacked
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| v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的过去式和过去分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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intrigued
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| adj.好奇的，被迷住了的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的过去式)；激起…的兴趣或好奇心；“intrigue”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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vociferous
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| adj.喧哗的，大叫大嚷的 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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65
dabbing
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| 石面凿毛，灰泥抛毛 | |
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66
pouches
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| n.（放在衣袋里或连在腰带上的）小袋( pouch的名词复数 )；（袋鼠等的）育儿袋；邮袋；（某些动物贮存食物的）颊袋 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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