Foreword Foreword by Giles Reilly, MD The events chronicled in this narrative took place some four years ago. Circumstances have rendered it necessary, in my opinion, that a straightforward account of them should be given to the public. There have been the wildest and most ridiculous rumours suggesting that important evidence was suppressed and other nonsense of that kind. Those misconstructions have appeared more especially in the American Press. For obvious reasons it was desirable that the account should not come from the pen of one of the expedition staff, who might reasonably be supposed to be prejudiced. I therefore suggested to Miss Amy Leatheran that she should undertake the task. She is obviously the person to do it. She had a professional character of the highest, she is not biased by having any previous connection with the University of Pittstown Expedition to Iraq and she was an observant and intellectual eye-witness. It was not very easy to persuade Miss Leatheran to undertake this task—in fact, persuading her was one of the hardest jobs of my professional career—and even after it was completed she displayed a curious reluctance to let me see the manuscript. I discovered that this was partly due to some critical remarks she had made concerning my daughter Sheila. I soon disposed of that, assuring her that as children criticize their parents freely in print nowadays, parents are only too delighted when their offspring come in for their share of abuse! Her other objection was extreme modesty about her literary style. She hoped I would ‘put the grammar right and all that.’ I have, on the contrary, refused to alter so much as a single word. Miss Leatheran’s style in my opinion is vigorous, individual and entirely apposite. If she calls Hercule Poirot ‘Poirot’ in one paragraph and ‘Mr Poirot’ in the next, such a variation is both interesting and suggestive. At one moment she is, so to speak, ‘remembering her manners’ (and hospital nurses are great sticklers for etiquette) and at the next her interest in what she is telling is that of a pure human being—cap and cuffs forgotten! The only thing I have done is to take the liberty of writing a first chapter—aided by a letter kindly supplied by one of Miss Leatheran’s friends. It is intended to be in the nature of a frontispiece—that is, it gives a rough sketch of the narrator. 前言 前 言 本书记载的是大约四年前发生的事。本人以为目前的情况已经发展到必须将实情公诸于世的阶段，曾经有一些最狂妄、最可笑的谣传，都说重要的证据已经让人扣留了。另外还有诸如此类很无聊的话。那些曲解的报道尤其在美国报纸上出现得更多。 实际情况的记述最好不是出自考察团团员的手笔。其理由是显而易见的：大家有充足的理由可以假定他的记述是有偏见的。 因此，我便建议爱咪•列瑟兰小姐担任这项任务。她显然是担任这工作的适当人选。对于这工作，她有最好的资格。他和匹茨市大学伊拉克考察团以前没有关系，所以不会有偏见。 并且，她是一个观察力敏锐、极有头脑的目击者。 说服列瑟兰小姐担任这工作并不是很容易的——其实，说服她可以说是我行医以来遭遇到的最困难的事——甚至于在她脱稿之后，她很奇怪地显示出不愿意让我看她的原稿。我发现这一部分是由于她说过的一些关于批评我女儿雪拉的话。我不久就消除了她这种顾虑。我叫她放心。我说，目前既然子女可以任意发表文章批评父母，当子女也挨骂的时候，做父母的也会很高兴的。她另外一个反对的理由是她对她自己的文章抱极谦虚的态度。她希望我会“校正她的文法错误等等”。相反的，我连一个字也不愿意改。我以为列瑟兰小姐的文笔有力、有个性，而且完全恰当。假若她在一段文字中称赫尔克里•波洛为“波洛”，却在下一段文字中称他“波洛先生”，这样的变动既有趣，又有启发性。有时候，她可以说是“记得应有的礼貌”（医院里的护士是墨守礼节的），可是，一转眼间，她对于自己所讲的话，感到津津有味，纯粹是一个普通的人那样，已经忘掉自己是个护士了。 我做的唯一一件事，就是擅自撰写开头的一节。这是得力于列瑟兰小姐的一个朋友提供的一封信。希望把它当作类似眷首语看待——也就是想粗略地勾画出叙述者的面目。 Chapter 1 Frontispiece Chapter 1 Frontispiece In the hall of the Tigris Palace Hotel in Baghdad a hospital nurse was finishing a letter. Her fountain-pen drove briskly over the paper. …Well, dear, I think that’s really all my news. I must say it’s been nice to see a bit of the world—though England for me every time, thank you. The dirtand the messin Baghdad you wouldn’t believe—and not romantic at all like you’d think from the ArabianNights! Of course, it’s pretty just on the river, but the town itself is just awful—and no proper shops at all. Major Kelsey took me through the bazaars, and of course there’s no denying they’re quaint—but just a lot of rubbish and hammering away at copper pans till they make your headache—and not what I’d like to use myself unless I was sure about the cleaning. You’ve got to be so careful of verdigris with copper pans.I’ll write and let you know if anything comes of the job that Dr Reilly spoke about. He said this American gentleman was in Baghdad now and might come and see me this afternoon. It’s for his wife—she has ‘fancies’, so Dr Reilly said. He didn’t say any more than that, and of course, dear, one knows what that usually means(but I hope not actually D.T.s!). Of course, Dr Reilly didn’t sayanything—but he had a look—if you know what I mean. This Dr Leidner is an archaeologist and is digging up a mound out in the desert somewhere for some American museumWell, dear, I will close now. I thought what you told me about little Stubbins was simply killing! Whatever did Matron say?No more now.Yours ever,Amy Leatheran Enclosing the letter in an envelope, she addressed it to Sister Curshaw, St Christopher’s Hospital, London. As she put the cap on her fountain-pen, one of the native boys approached her. ‘A gentleman come to see you. Dr Leidner.’ Nurse Leatheran turned. She saw a man of middle height with slightly stooping shoulders, a brown beard and gentle, tired eyes. Dr Leidner saw a woman of thirty-five, of erect, confident bearing. He saw a good-humoured face with slightly prominent blue eyes and glossy brown hair. She looked, he thought, just what a hospital nurse for a nervous case ought to look. Cheerful, robust, shrewd and matter-of-fact. Nurse Leatheran, he thought, would do. 第一章 引子 1 在巴格达底格里斯皇宫大旅馆的大厅里，一个受过医院训练的护士正在完成一封信。她的自来水笔轻快地在信笺上掠过。 ……啊，亲爱的，我想，这实在就是我要报告给你的全部新闻。我得说，能够看到这世界的一鳞半爪，总是好的。不过，我希望每次出游，都让我到英国的地方吧，谢谢你！巴格达的脏乱，说起来让你不能相信——一点儿也不罗曼蒂克，不像你想象中天方夜谭里的情形。当然，只是在河面上，风景是美的，但是那个城的本身简直糟透了——根本没有像样的商店。克尔西少校带我逛过市场，并且，当然啦，我也不能否认，那些地方是颇饶奇趣的一但是只是很多的废物，和敲打铜盘的声音，把人震得头都疼了——而且那种东西，除非我有把握可以清洗干净，也不是我自己喜欢用的。用那些铜盘子，你得非常当心上面的铜锈。 瑞利医师谈到的那个工作要是有什么消息，我会写信告诉你。他说这位美国先生现在就在巴格达，也许今天下午会来看我。他是为了他太太的病而来——她有“空想症”——这是瑞利医师说的。除此之外，他没说别的。当然啦，亲爱的，大家都知道那种病通常是什么情形（但是我希望实际上不是D.T.’s——抖颤性酒疯！）当然，瑞利医师井没说什么——但是，他有一种神气表示——你明白我的意思，这位雷德纳博士是一位考古学家，如今正在为美国的一家博物馆在一个沙漠地带挖掘一个古丘。 那么，亲爱的，我现在要结束这封信了。我想到你告诉我关于小斯塔宾的事，真是笑死人了。护士长究竟怎么说呢？ 暂时不多写了。 爱咪•列瑟兰上 她把信放到信封里，然后在上面写：伦敦，圣克利斯妥弗医院，柯尔修女收。 当她套上笔套时，一个本地的待者来到她跟前、 “有一位先生来看你：雷德纳博士。” 列瑟兰护士转过身来。她看到一位中等身材，肩膀微微下垂的人。那人有褐色的胡须和温和但是很疲乏的眼睛。 雷德纳博士看到的是一个三十二岁的女人，身材挺拔，态度充满信心。他看到一副好脾气的面孔，还有稍稍突出的蓝眼睛和富有光泽的揭发，他觉得，她的样子正是一个照顾精神病人应该有的样子：愉快、健壮、精明，而且实事求是。 Chapter 2 Introducing Amy Leatheran Chapter 2 Introducing Amy Leatheran I don’t pretend to be an author or to know anything about writing. I’m doing this simply because Dr Reilly asked me to, and somehow when Dr Reilly asks you to do a thing you don’t like to refuse. ‘Oh, but, doctor,’ I said, ‘I’m not literary—not literary at all.’ ‘Nonsense!’ he said. ‘Treat it as case notes, if you like.’ Well, of course, you canlook at it that way. Dr Reilly went on. He said that an unvarnished plain account of the Tell Yarimjah business was badly needed. ‘If one of the interested parties writes it, it won’t carry conviction. They’ll say it’s biased one way or another.’ And of course that was true, too. I was in it all and yet an outsider, so to speak. ‘Why don’t you write it yourself, doctor?’ I asked. ‘I wasn’t on the spot—you were. Besides,’ he added with a sigh, ‘my daughter won’t let me.’ The way he knuckles under to that chit of a girl of his is downright disgraceful. I had half a mind to say so, when I saw that his eyes were twinkling. That was the worst of Dr Reilly. You never knew whether he was joking or not. He always said things in the same slow melancholy way—but half the time there was a twinkle underneath it. ‘Well,’ I said doubtfully, ‘I suppose I could.’ ‘Of course you could.’ ‘Only I don’t quite know how to set about it.’ ‘There’s a good precedent for that. Begin at the beginning, go on to the end and then leave off.’ ‘I don’t even know quite where and what the beginning was,’ I said doubtfully. ‘Believe me, nurse, the difficulty of beginning will be nothing to the difficulty of knowing how to stop. At least that’s the way it is with me when I have to make a speech. Someone’s got to catch hold of my coat-tails and pull me down by main force.’ ‘Oh, you’re joking, doctor.’ ‘It’s profoundly serious I am. Now what about it?’ Another thing was worrying me. After hesitating a moment or two I said: ‘You know, doctor, I’m afraid I might tend to be—well, a little personalsometimes.’ ‘God bless my soul, woman, the more personal you are the better! This is a story of human beings—not dummies! Be personal—be prejudiced—be catty—be anything you please! Write the thing your own way. We can always prune out the bits that are libellous afterwards! You go ahead. You’re a sensible woman, and you’ll give a sensible common-sense account of the business.’ So that was that, and I promised to do my best. And here I am beginning, but as I said to the doctor, it’s difficult to know just where to start. I suppose I ought to say a word or two about myself. I’m thirty-two and my name is Amy Leatheran. I took my training at St Christopher’s and after that did two years maternity. I did a certain amount of private work and I was for four years at Miss Bendix’s Nursing Home in Devonshire Place. I came out to Iraq with a Mrs Kelsey. I’d attended her when her baby was born. She was coming out to Baghdad with her husband and had already got a children’s nurse booked who had been for some years with friends of hers out there. Their children were coming home and going to school, and the nurse had agreed to go to Mrs Kelsey when they left. Mrs Kelsey was delicate and nervous about the journey out with so young a child, so Major Kelsey arranged that I should come out with her and look after her and the baby. They would pay my passage home unless we found someone needing a nurse for the return journey. Well, there is no need to describe the Kelseys—the baby was a little love and Mrs Kelsey quite nice, though rather the fretting kind. I enjoyed the voyage very much. I’d never been a long trip on the sea before. Dr Reilly was on board the boat. He was a black-haired, long-faced man who said all sorts of funny things in a low, sad voice. I think he enjoyed pulling my leg and used to make the most extraordinary statements to see if I would swallow them. He was the civil surgeon at a place called Hassanieh—a day and a half’s journey from Baghdad. I had been about a week in Baghdad when I ran across him and he asked when I was leaving the Kelseys. I said that it was funny his asking that because as a matter of fact the Wrights (the other people I mentioned) were going home earlier than they had meant to and their nurse was free to come straightaway. He said that he had heard about the Wrights and that that was why he had asked me. ‘As a matter of fact, nurse, I’ve got a possible job for you.’ ‘A case?’ He screwed his face up as though considering. ‘You could hardly call it a case. It’s just a lady who has—shall we say—fancies?’ ‘Oh!’ I said. (One usually knows what thatmeans—drink or drugs!) Dr Reilly didn’t explain further. He was very discreet. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘A Mrs Leidner. Husband’s an American—an American Swede to be exact. He’s the head of a large American dig.’ And he explained how this expedition was excavating the site of a big Assyrian city something like Nineveh. The expedition house was not actually very far from Hassanieh, but it was a lonely spot and Dr Leidner had been worried for some time about his wife’s health. ‘He’s not been very explicit about it, but it seems she has these fits of recurring nervous terrors.’ ‘Is she left alone all day amongst natives?’ I asked ‘Oh, no, there’s quite a crowd—seven or eight. I don’t fancy she’s ever been alone in the house. But there seems to be no doubt that she’s worked herself up into a queer state. Leidner has any amount of work on his shoulders, but he’s crazy about his wife and it worries him to know she’s in this state. He felt he’d be happier if he knew that some responsible person with expert knowledge was keeping an eye on her.’ ‘And what does Mrs Leidner herself think about it?’ Dr Reilly answered gravely: ‘Mrs Leidner is a very lovely lady. She’s seldom of the same mind about anything two days on end. But on the whole she favours the idea.’ He added, ‘She’s an odd woman. A mass of affection and, I should fancy, a champion liar—but Leidner seems honestly to believe that she is scared out of her life by something or other.’ ‘What did she herself say to you, doctor?’ ‘Oh, she hasn’t consulted me! She doesn’t like me anyway—for several reasons. It was Leidner who came to me and propounded this plan. Well, nurse, what do you think of the idea? You’d see something of the country before you go home—they’ll be digging for another two months. And excavation is quite interesting work.’ After a moment’s hesitation while I turned the matter over in my mind: ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I really think I might try it.’ ‘Splendid,’ said Dr Reilly, rising. ‘Leidner’s in Baghdad now. I’ll tell him to come round and see if he can fix things up with you.’ Dr Leidner came to the hotel that afternoon. He was a middle-aged man with a rather nervous, hesitating manner. There was something gentle and kindly and rather helpless about him. He sounded very devoted to his wife, but he was very vague about what was the matter with her. ‘You see,’ he said, tugging at his beard in a rather perplexed manner that I later came to know to be characteristic of him, ‘my wife is really in a very nervous state. I—I’m quite worried about her.’ ‘She is in good physical health?’ I asked. ‘Yes—oh, yes, I think so. No, I should not think there was anything the matter with her physically. But she—well—imagines things, you know.’ ‘What kind of things?’ I asked. But he shied off from the point, merely murmuring perplexedly: ‘She works herself up over nothing at all…I really can see no foundations for these fears.’ ‘Fears of what, Dr Leidner?’ He said vaguely, ‘Oh, just—nervous terrors, you know.’ Ten to one, I thought to myself, it’s drugs. And he doesn’t realize it! Lots of men don’t. Just wonder why their wives are so jumpy and have such extraordinary changes of mood. I asked whether Mrs Leidner herself approved of the idea of my coming. His face lighted up. ‘Yes. I was surprised. Most pleasurably surprised. She said it was a very good idea. She said she would feel very much safer.’ The word struck me oddly. Safer. A very queer word to use. I began to surmise that Mrs Leidner might be a mental case. He went on with a kind of boyish eagerness. ‘I’m sure you’ll get on very well with her. She’s really a very charming woman.’ He smiled disarmingly. ‘She feels you’ll be the greatest comfort to her. I felt the same as soon as I saw you. You look, if you will allow me to say so, so splendidly healthy and full of common sense. I’m sure you’re just the person for Louise.’ ‘Well, we can but try, Dr Leidner,’ I said cheerfully. ‘I’m sure I hope I can be of use to your wife. Perhaps she’s nervous of natives and coloured people?’ ‘Oh, dear me no.’ He shook his head, amused at the idea. ‘My wife likes Arabs very much—she appreciates their simplicity and their sense of humour. This is only her second season—we have been married less than two years—but she already speaks quite a fair amount of Arabic.’ I was silent for a moment or two, then I had one more try. ‘Can’t you tell me at all what it is your wife is afraid of, Dr Leidner?’ I asked. He hesitated. Then he said slowly, ‘I hope—I believe—that she will tell you that herself.’ And that’s all I could get out of him. 第二章 艾米·丽瑟莲小姐的自述 2 我并不想冒充作家，佯称懂得如何写作。我这样做只是因为瑞利医师要我这样做，而且，不知为什么，瑞利医师要求你做一件事的时候，你是不会拒绝的。 “啊，可是，瑞利大夫，”我说，“我是不懂文学的——一点儿也不懂。” “胡说！”他说，“那么，你就把它当病历记录来写好了。” “啊，当然啦，你可以这样看法。” 瑞利医师继续说下去。他说现在我们迫切需要对那个亚瑞米亚古丘事件有一个直率而明白的叙述。 “这样的文字如果是与那件事有利害关系的人写的，就不足凭信，他们会说这样的记载总是有偏见的。” 当然，那也是实在的。我始终都在场，但是，可以说是一个局外的人。 、 “大夫，你为什么不自己写呢？”我问。 “我不在现场——你是在的。而且，”他叹口气，接着说，“我的女儿不让我写。” 他对那个黄毛丫头竟会让步到这个样子，实在非常丢脸，我有点想这样说。可是，这时候我看到他在眨眼。那是瑞利医师最令人头痛的地方。你永远不会知道他是在开玩笑，我是认真的，他总是以同样缓慢忧郁的方式说话一但是多半都在眨眼。 “那么，”我不敢肯定地说，“我想我可以那样做。” “你当然可以。” “我只是不知道如何开始。” “那种文字有一个很好的前例。从根由处开始，继续到底，然后就打住。” “我甚至于不晓得那件事的根由是什么，也不晓得由什么地方开始。”我犹豫地说。 “护士，相信我。开头的困难和知道如何停止的困难一比，就不算回事了。至少，我讲演的时候就是这样。必须背后有人用力拉着我的上衣后摆，才能把我拉下来。” “啊，你是在开玩笑，大夫。” “我是非常认真的。现在怎么说？” 另外一件事令我很烦恼、犹豫了片刻，我说：“大夫，你知道，我恐怕有时候很容易露出个人的感觉。” “哎呀，小姐，愈表现个人的感觉愈好！这是一个真人的故事——不是橱窗里摆的假人的故事！你要表现个人的感觉，你可以有偏见，你可以表示怨恨一你可以想怎样写就怎样写！照你自己的看法写。如果有一星半点中伤人的地方，我们总可以在事后加以剪裁。只要写下去就好了，你是个明白人，完全可以把那个事件合情合理、实事求是地写出来。”所以，事情就这样决定了。我答应他尽力而为。 我就在这里开始写了。不过、就像我对大夫说的，很难晓得究竟从什么地方开始。 ” 我想我应该说一两句有关自己的话。我叫爱咪•列瑟兰，三十二岁。我在圣克利斯妥弗医院受过训练，做了两年妇产科的护理工作。我做过一些私人方面的工作，在德文郡街本狄克斯小姐的疗养院工作四年。后来应聘陪一位克尔西太太出国到伊拉克。她的小孩诞生时，我照顾她。她准备同她先生到巴格达。那里有一个保姆，在她一个朋友家做了几年。现在她已经同那个保姆定好，朋友的孩子将要回国就学。那保姆同意等孩子们离开的时候到克尔西太太这里来。克尔西太太身体纤弱，这次带着一个这么小的婴儿旅行，觉得很紧张。为照顾其太太和孩子，克尔西少校就聘我同他太太一起去。到巴格达后除非我们找到一个需要在回国途中请护士的人，他们便负责我回国的旅费。 那么，现在就没有必要描述克尔西夫妇和他们的小孩了——那小孩儿很可爱。克尔西太太人也很好，不过是属于那种急躁型的女人。我很喜欢这次航行的生活，我以前从未在海上航行如此之久。 瑞利医师也在船上，他是一个黑发、长面孔的人，常常以低沉、悲伤的声调讲各种各样可笑的话，我想他喜欢开我的玩笑，常常说一些最特别的事，看我是否相信。他是一个叫做哈沙尼的地方政府机关的医师——那是离巴格达一天半旅程的地方。 我在巴格达住了大约一星期，后来偶然遇见他。他问我什么时候离开克尔西家。我说他这样问我很有趣，因为，事实上赖特一家人（就是我上面提到的另外一家人）准备提早回国，他们的保姆马上就可以来了。 他说他已经听说关于赖特一家的事了，又说，那就是他问我的原因。 “护士小姐，其实，我这里有一个你可能担任的工作。” “一个病人吗？” 他皱起面孔，仿佛在考虑。 “几乎不可以称为病人，只是有一位太太，她有——可否说——空想症？” “啊！”我感到有些惊讶。我们通常都知道那是指什么而言——那是由于饮酒或者服用麻醉剂而引起的！ 瑞利医师没有进一步说明。他很谨慎。 “是的，”他说，“一位雷德纳太太；丈夫是美国人——更正确地说，应该说是美瑞混血的人，他是一个大规模的美国古物挖掘队的领队。” 于是，他就说明，这个古物考察团正在挖掘一个巨大的亚述古城的遗址，一个像尼尼微一样的地方。考察团住的房子离哈沙尼实际上并不很远，但是，那是一个荒凉的地方。雷德纳博士担心他太太的健康，已经有一段时候了。 “他对于她的情形讲得不太明白，但是，她似乎是一再的带有恐怖状的神经发作。” “在白天，他们是不是把她撇在家里，同当地人在一起？”我问。 “啊，不会的，有不少人呢——大约七八个。我想，她不会独自一人在家，但是，有一件事似乎是毫无疑问的：她总是想人非非，结果总是陷入一种很古怪的状态。雷德纳担任的工作可能很繁重。但是，他对于他的妻子爱得很深，他知道她有这种情形，非常担忧。” “她的身体健康吗？”我问。 “健康——啊，健康，我想是的。不，我想，她的身体是没有毛病的。但是，她——嗯，你一定明白我的意思，常常幻想事情。” “甚么样的事？”我问。” 但是，他避开这一点，只是困惑地低声说：“她常常无中生有地愈想愈激动。我实在觉得她的这些恐惧毫无根据。” “恐惧什么，雷德纳博士？” 他空洞地说：“啊，只是——神经紧张的恐惧，你明白吗？” 我想，十之八九，这是麻醉剂作祟。他没有发现，很多男人都不会发现，他们只是不知道他们的妻子为何如此神经过敏，为何心情有这样不寻常的变化。 我问他雷德纳太太是否赞成我来。他的脸上露出笑容。 “赞成。我很惊奇，又惊奇又高兴，她说这是个好主意。她说，这样她就会觉得安全得多，” 我觉得这话很奇怪，“安全得多”，用这种字眼儿是很奇怪的，我慢慢猜测，雷德纳太太也许是个精神病人。他带着一种孩子似的热诚态度继续说下去。 “我相信你会和她相处得非常融洽，她实在是一个很可爱的人。”他的笑容令人消除一切疑虑。“她觉得你来会使她感到非常安心。我一看到你，我就有同样的感觉，不知道你是否许可我这样说，你的样子非常健康，并且露出极富判断力的样子，我相信你就是陪伴露伊思最适当的人。” “那么，我只好试试了，雷德纳博士。”我高兴地说，“我实在希望能对你太太有些帮助。她也许是同当地人在一起感到紧张吧？” “啊，啊，不是的。”他摇摇头，对我这样的想法觉得很有趣。“我的太太很喜欢阿拉伯人——她欣赏他们的纯朴和幽默感。这只是她第二次在发掘期到这里来——我们结婚还不到两年——但是她已经会说相当多的阿拉伯话了。” 我沉默了片刻，然后我再试一试。 “你能告诉我你太太害怕些什么吗，雷德纳博士？” 他犹豫了一下，然后慢慢地说：“我希望——我想——她会亲自告诉你。” 我由他那里可以问出来的，只有这些。 Chapter 3 Gossip Chapter 3 Gossip It was arranged that I should go to Tell Yarimjah the following week. Mrs Kelsey was settling into her house at Alwiyah, and I was glad to be able to take a few things off her shoulders. During that time I heard one or two allusions to the Leidner expedition. A friend of Mrs Kelsey’s, a young squadron-leader, pursed his lips in surprise as he exclaimed: ‘Lovely Louise. So that’s her latest!’ He turned to me. ‘That’s our nickname for her, nurse. She’s always known as Lovely Louise.’ ‘Is she so very handsome then?’ I asked. ‘It’s taking her at her own valuation. Shethinks she is!’ ‘Now don’t be spiteful, John,’ said Mrs Kelsey. ‘You know it’s not only she who thinks so! Lots of people have been very smitten by her.’ ‘Perhaps you’re right. She’s a bit long in the tooth, but she has a certain attraction.’ ‘You were completely bowled over yourself,’ said Mrs Kelsey, laughing. The squadron-leader blushed and admitted rather shamefacedly: ‘Well, she has a way with her. As for Leidner himself, he worships the ground she walks on—and all the rest of the expedition has to worship too! It’s expected of them!’ ‘How many are there altogether?’ I asked. ‘All sorts and nationalities, nurse,’ said the squadron-leader cheerfully. ‘An English architect, a French Father from Carthage—he does the inscriptions—tablets and things, you know. And then there’s Miss Johnson. She’s English too—sort of general bottle-washer. And a little plump man who does the photography—he’s an American. And the Mercados. Heaven knows what nationality they are—Dagos of some kind! She’s quite young—a snaky-looking creature—and oh! doesn’t she hate Lovely Louise! And there are a couple of youngsters and that’s the lot. A few odd fish, but nice on the whole—don’t you agree, Pennyman?’ He was appealing to an elderly man who was sitting thoughtfully twirling a pair of pince-nez. The latter started and looked up. ‘Yes—yes—very nice indeed. Taken individually, that is. Of course, Mercado is rather a queer fish—’ ‘He has such a very oddbeard,’ put in Mrs Kelsey. ‘A queer limp kind.’ Major Pennyman went on without noticing her interruption. ‘The young ’uns are both nice. The American’s rather silent, and the English boy talks a bit too much. Funny, it’s usually the other way round. Leidner himself is a delightful fellow—so modest and unassuming. Yes, individually they are all pleasant people. But somehow or other, I may have been fanciful, but the last time I went to see them I got a queer impression of something being wrong. I don’t know what it was exactly…Nobody seemed quite natural. There was a queer atmosphere of tension. I can explain best what I mean by saying that they all passed the butter to each other too politely.’ Blushing a little, because I don’t like airing my own opinions too much, I said: ‘If people are too much cooped up together it’s got a way of getting on their nerves. I know that myself from experience in hospital.’ ‘That’s true,’ said Major Kelsey, ‘but it’s early in the season, hardly time for that particular irritation to have set in.’ ‘An expedition is probably like our life here in miniature,’ said Major Pennyman. ‘It has its cliques and rivalries and jealousies.’ ‘It sounds as though they’d got a good many newcomers this year,’ said Major Kelsey. ‘Let me see.’ The squadron-leader counted them off on his fingers. ‘Young Coleman is new, so is Reiter. Emmott was out last year and so were the Mercados. Father Lavigny is a newcomer. He’s come in place of Dr Byrd, who was ill this year and couldn’t come out. Carey, of course, is an old hand. He’s been out ever since the beginning, five years ago. Miss Johnson’s been out nearly as many years as Carey.’ ‘I always thought they got on so well together at Tell Yarimjah,’ remarked Major Kelsey. ‘They seemed like a happy family—which is really surprising when one considers what human nature is! I’m sure Nurse Leatheran agrees with me.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I don’t know that you’re not right! The rows I’ve known in hospital and starting often from nothing more than a dispute about a pot of tea.’ ‘Yes, one tends to get petty in close communities,’ said Major Pennyman. ‘All the same I feel there must be something more to it in this case. Leidner is such a gentle, unassuming man, with really a remarkable amount of tact. He’s always managed to keep his expedition happy and on good terms with each other. And yet I didnotice that feeling of tension the other day.’ Mrs Kelsey laughed. ‘And you don’t see the explanation? Why, it leaps to the eye!’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘MrsLeidner, of course.’ ‘Oh come, Mary,’ said her husband, ‘she’s a charming woman—not at all the quarrelsome kind.’ ‘I didn’t say she was quarrelsome. She causesquarrels!’ ‘In what way? And why should she?’ ‘Why? Why? Because she’s bored. She’s not an archaeologist, only the wife of one. She’s bored shut away from any excitements and so she provides her own drama. She amuses herself by setting other people by the ears.’ ‘Mary, you don’t know in the least. You’re merely imagining.’ ‘Of course I’m imagining! But you’ll find I’m right. Lovely Louise doesn’t look like the Mona Lisa for nothing! She mayn’t mean any harm, but she likes to see what will happen.’ ‘She’s devoted to Leidner.’ ‘Oh! I dare say, I’m not suggesting vulgar intrigues. But she’s an allumeuse, that woman.’ ‘Women are so sweet to each other,’ said Major Kelsey. ‘I know. Cat, cat, cat, that’s what you men say. But we’re usually right about our own sex.’ ‘All the same,’ said Major Pennyman thoughtfully, ‘assuming all Mrs Kelsey’s uncharitable surmises to be true, I don’t think it would quite account for that curious sense of tension—rather like the feeling there is before a thunderstorm. I had the impression very strongly that the storm might break any minute.’ ‘Now don’t frighten nurse,’ said Mrs Kelsey. ‘She’s going there in three days’ time and you’ll put her right off.’ ‘Oh, you won’t frighten me,’ I said, laughing. All the same I thought a good deal about what had been said. Dr Leidner’s curious use of the word ‘safer’ recurred to me. Was it his wife’s secret fear, unacknowledged or expressed perhaps, that was reacting on the rest of the party? Or was it the actual tension (or perhaps the unknown cause of it) that was reacting on hernerves? I looked up the word allumeusethat Mrs Kelsey had used in a dictionary, but couldn’t get any sense out of it. ‘Well,’ I thought to myself, ‘I must wait and see.’ 第三章 流言蜚语 3 一切安排停当。我预定下星期到亚瑞米亚古丘发掘场。克尔西太太正忙着在阿尔维亚安顿下来。我很高兴能帮她减轻一些工作的负担； 在那一段期间，有一两次，我听到人家谈到雷德纳古物考察团的事。克尔西太太的朋友——一个年轻的空军中队长惊奇地噘起嘴巴说：“可爱的露伊思！原来这就是她最近的情形呀！”他转过身来对着我：“护士小姐；那是我们替她起的外号，她始终是以‘可爱的露伊思’闻名的！” “那么，她是这么漂亮吗？”我问。 “这是照她对自己的评价说的。她自以为是可爱的！” “约翰，现在不要这么坏吧，”克尔西太太说，“你难道不知道她并不是唯一以为如此的人！许多人都为她而神魂颠倒呢。” “也许你说得对，她也许年纪有点大了，但是，风韵犹存呢。” “你自己也拜倒在石榴裙下呢！”克尔西太太哈哈大笑地说。 那位空军中队长满脸通红，有些难为情地说：“啊，她是很迷人的。至于雷德纳本人呢，她走过的地方，他都要焚香膜拜呢！全考察团的人也都崇拜她，他们理当如此！” “一共有多少人？”我问。 “各种人都有，那一国人都有，护士小姐。”那中队长愉快地说，“有一个英国建筑师，一个法国神父，是迦太基人，他负责辨认碑文——石碑——你知道吗？还有詹森小姐，她也是英国人——是一位总管一切杂务的人。还有一个小胖子，担任摄影，他是美国人。还有麦加多夫妇，天晓得他们是那一国人。麦加多太太很年轻，是一个像蛇一样的女人——啊——她很恨可爱的露伊思呀！还有两个年轻小伙子，这就是全班人马，有少数很怪的家伙，但是大致都很好……你同意我的说法吗，潘尼曼？” 他是对一个上年纪的人讲话，那人正坐在那里，若有所思地转动着一副夹鼻眼镜。 后者吃了一惊，抬头一望。 “是的——是的——实在很好。这是说，个别的说。当然，麦加多是个怪家伙——” “他留着那么怪的胡于，”克尔西太太插嘴说，“是很怪的弯弯曲曲的那一种胡子。” 。 潘尼曼少校继续说下去，没注意她插进的话。 “那两个年轻小伙子都很好，那个美国人颇沉静，那个英国人的话多了一点。奇怪，通常的情形正相反。雷德纳本人是个很讨人喜欢的人一很谦虚，一点也不摆架子，是的，个别而论，他们都是很友善的人。但是，不知道为什么，我也许是太爱想象，但是上一次我去看他们的时候，我有一个奇怪的印象，觉得有什么地方不对劲儿，我不知道确实是什么缘故。他们没一个似乎是自然的，有一种很奇怪的紧张气氛。我可以告诉你们一件事，这件事最足以说明我的意思：他们在餐桌上互相传递牛油的时候，太客气。” 我有点儿腼腆地说——因为我不喜欢妄加品评——“大家关在一个房子里太久的时候，都会变得心烦的，我由于医院方面的经验很了解这种情形。” “你说得对，”克尔西少校说，“但是，现在是挖掘期的初期，那种心烦的现象还不会有。” “一个古物考察团也许就是我们这里的生活缩影，”潘尼曼少校说，“有派系，有敌手，有妒忌。” “听你这么说，仿佛他们今年有很多新加入的人了。”克尔西少校说。 “让我算算看，”中队长屈指算了起来，“柯尔曼是新来的。 瑞特也是新来的。爱莫特去年就来了。麦加多夫妇也一样。拉维尼神父是新来的，他是代替比尔德博士的，因为比尔德博士今年病了，不能出来。贾雷当然是老团员了，五年前一开始发掘之后他就来了。詹森小姐来的时候同贾雷一样久。” “我始终以为他们在亚瑞米亚古丘挖掘场相处得很融洽，”克尔西少校说，“他们似乎像一家人一样。我们要是想到人性是什么样子，就觉得这是实在令人惊奇的现象。我相信列瑟兰护士同意我的话。” “这个——”我说，“我不知道你所说的话有什么不对。我在医院里见到的争吵情形是这样的，他们争吵往往只是为了一壶茶而已。” “是的，一个人在密集的社会里很容易变得非常小气，”潘尼曼少校说，“我仍然是觉得这件事的起因不仅如此。雷德纳是一个如此温和，毫不摆架子的人，并且实在是机智多谋。他始终能设法让他团里的人很快乐，彼此相处融洽。但是，前几天我的确感觉到有一种紧张的气氛。” 克尔西太太哈哈大笑。’ “那么，你就看不出其中原因了？其实，这是显而易见的！” “你的用意何在？” “当然是雷德纳大太呀！” “啊，算了吧，玛丽！”她的丈夫说，“她是个可爱的人！丝毫没有那种爱吵架的女人样子。” “我并没说她爱吵架。她会使别人吵架！” “怎样使别人吵架？她为什么会这样？” “为什么？为什么？因为她感觉无聊。她不是考古学家，只是山个考古学家的太太。她觉得无聊。她和外界一切新奇刺激的事统统隔绝。因此，她就为自己安排一些紧张、刺激的事。她故意使别人不和，而引以为乐。” “玛丽，你一点儿也不晓得实情，你只是在想象。” “当然我是在想象！但是你会发觉我想得对。可爱的露伊思并非无缘无故地露出蒙娜•丽莎那副样子：她也许并无恶意。但是，她想看看会发生什么后果。” “她对雷德纳是一往情深的。” “啊，也许是的。我并不是说有什么下流的阴谋。但是，那个女人，她是个allumeuse（引火人）！” “女人彼此是非常亲爱的。”克尔西少校说。 “我知道，小猫，小猫，小猫：那就是你们男人会说的。但是，我们通常对自己认识得更正确。” “假定克尔西太太那些苛刻的揣测是实在的。我仍然以为那也不能说明为什么有那种奇怪的紧张感觉——那种有点像雷雨欲来时的感觉。我有一种很强烈的感觉：暴风雨可能一阶即发。” “不要吓唬护士小姐了，”克尔西太太说，“三天之后她就要到那里去，你的话会使她打消原议。” “啊，你们不会吓倒我的。”我哈哈大笑地说。 我对于方才的那些话仍然想得很多，雷德纳博士所说的“安全得多”，这几个字眼儿用得很奇怪，并且一再出现在我的脑海。是不是他太太秘密的恐惧——也许她不肯承认，或者没有表示——在其余那些人方面引起反应，或者是那种实在的紧张感（或者是那种感觉的未知原因）在她的神经上引起皮应？ 我把克尔西大太用的那个字allumeuse在字典里查出来，可是也不能找出什么意义。 我暗想：那么，我就等着瞧了。 Chapter 4 I Arrive in Hassanieh Chapter 4 I Arrive in Hassanieh Three days later I left Baghdad. I was sorry to leave Mrs Kelsey and the baby, who was a little love and was thriving splendidly, gaining her proper number of ounces every week. Major Kelsey took me to the station and saw me off. I should arrive at Kirkuk the following morning, and there someone was to meet me. I slept badly, I never sleep very well in a train and I was troubled by dreams. The next morning, however, when I looked out of the window it was a lovely day and I felt interested and curious about the people I was going to see As I stood on the platform hesitating and looking about me I saw a young man coming towards me. He had a round pink face, and really, in all my life, I have never seen anyone who seemed so exactly like a young man out of one of Mr P. G. Wodehouse’s books. ‘Hallo, ’allo, ’allo,’ he said. ‘Are you Nurse Leatheran? Well, I mean you must be—I can see that. Ha ha! My name’s Coleman. Dr Leidner sent me along. How are you feeling? Beastly journey and all that? Don’t I know these trains! Well, here we are—had any breakfast? This your kit? I say, awfully modest, aren’t you? Mrs Leidner has four suitcases and a trunk—to say nothing of a hat-box and a patent pillow, and this, that and the other. Am I talking too much? Come along to the old bus.’ There was what I heard called later a station wagon waiting outside. It was a little like a wagonette, a little like a lorry and a little like a car. Mr Coleman helped me in, explaining that I had better sit next to the driver so as to get less jolting. Jolting! I wonder the whole contraption didn’t fall to pieces! And nothing like a road—just a sort of track all ruts and holes. Glorious East indeed! When I thought of our splendid arterial roads in England it made me quite homesick. Mr Coleman leaned forward from his seat behind me and yelled in my ear a good deal. ‘Track’s in pretty good condition,’ he shouted just after we had been thrown up in our seats till we nearly touched the roof. And apparently he was speaking quite seriously. ‘Very good for you—jogs the liver,’ he said. ‘You ought to know that, nurse.’ ‘A stimulated liver won’t be much good to me if my head’s split open,’ I observed tartly. ‘You should come along here after it’s rained! The skids are glorious. Most of the time one’s going sideways.’ To this I did not respond. Presently we had to cross the river, which we did on the craziest ferry-boat you can imagine. It was a mercy we ever got across, but everyone seemed to think it was quite usual. It took us about four hours to get to Hassanieh, which, to my surprise, was quite a big place. Very pretty it looked, too, before we got there from the other side of the river—standing up quite white and fairy-like with minarets. It was a bit different, though, when one had crossed the bridge and come right into it. Such a smell and everything ramshackle and tumble-down, and mud and mess everywhere Mr Coleman took me to Dr Reilly’s house, where, he said, the doctor was expecting me to lunch. Dr Reilly was just as nice as ever, and his house was nice too, with a bathroom and everything spick and span. I had a nice bath, and by the time I got back into my uniform and came down I was feeling fine. Lunch was just ready and we went in, the doctor apologizing for his daughter, who he said was always late. We’d just had a very good dish of eggs in sauce when she came in and Dr Reilly said, ‘Nurse, this is my daughter Sheila.’ She shook hands, hoped I’d had a good journey, tossed off her hat, gave a cool nod to Mr Coleman and sat down. ‘Well, Bill,’ she said. ‘How’s everything?’ He began to talk to her about some party or other that was to come off at the club, and I took stock of her. I can’t say I took to her much. A thought too cool for my liking. An off-hand sort of girl, though good-looking. Black hair and blue eyes—a pale sort of face and the usual lipsticked mouth. She’d a cool, sarcastic way of talking that rather annoyed me. I had a probationer like her under me once—a girl who worked well, I’ll admit, but whose manner always riled me. It looked to me rather as though Mr Coleman was gone on her. He stammered a bit, and his conversation became slightly more idiotic than it was before, if that was possible! He reminded me of a large stupid dog wagging its tail and trying to please. After lunch Dr Reilly went off to the hospital, and Mr Coleman had some things to get in the town, and Miss Reilly asked me whether I’d like to see round the town a bit or whether I’d rather stop in the house. Mr Coleman, she said, would be back to fetch me in about an hour. ‘Is there anything to see?’ I asked. ‘There are some picturesque corners,’ said Miss Reilly. ‘But I don’t know that you’d care for them. They’re extremely dirty.’ The way she said it rather nettled me. I’ve never been able to see that picturesqueness excuses dirt. In the end she took me to the club, which was pleasant enough, overlooking the river, and there were English papers and magazines there. When we got back to the house Mr Coleman wasn’t there yet, so we sat down and talked a bit. It wasn’t easy somehow. She asked me if I’d met Mrs Leidner yet. ‘No,’ I said. ‘Only her husband.’ ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I wonder what you’ll think of her?’ I didn’t say anything to that. And she went on: ‘I like Dr Leidner very much. Everybody likes him.’ That’s as good as saying, I thought, that you don’t like his wife. I still didn’t say anything and presently she asked abruptly: ‘What’s the matter with her? Did Dr Leidner tell you?’ I wasn’t going to start gossiping about a patient before I got there even, so I said evasively: ‘I understand she’s a bit rundown and wants looking after.’ She laughed—a nasty sort of laugh—hard and abrupt. ‘Good God,’ she said. ‘Aren’t nine people looking after her already enough?’ ‘I suppose they’ve all got their work to do,’ I said. ‘Work to do? Of course they’ve got work to do. But Louise comes first—she sees to that all right.’ ‘No,’ I said to myself. ‘You don’tlike her.’ ‘All the same,’ went on Miss Reilly, ‘I don’t see what she wants with a professional hospital nurse. I should have thought amateur assistance was more in her line; not someone who’ll jam a thermometer in her mouth, and count her pulse and bring everything down to hard facts.’ Well, I must admit it, I was curious. ‘You think there’s nothing the matter with her?’ I asked. ‘Of course there’s nothing the matter with her! The woman’s as strong as an ox. “Dear Louise hasn’t slept.” “She’s got black circles under her eyes.” Yes—put there with a blue pencil! Anything to get attention, to have everybody hovering round her, making a fuss of her!’ There was something in that, of course. I had (what nurse hasn’t?) come across many cases of hypochondriacs whose delight it is to keep a whole household dancing attendance. And if a doctor or a nurse were to say to them: ‘There’s nothing on earth the matter with you!’ Well, to begin with they wouldn’t believe it, and their indignation would be as genuine as indignation can be. Of course it was quite possible that Mrs Leidner might be a case of this kind. The husband, naturally, would be the first to be deceived. Husbands, I’ve found, are a credulous lot where illness is concerned. But all the same, it didn’t quite square with what I’d heard. It didn’t, for instance, fit in with that word ‘safer’. Funny how that word had got kind of stuck in my mind. Reflecting on it, I asked: ‘Is Mrs Leidner a nervous woman? Is she nervous, for instance, of living out far from anywhere?’ ‘What is there to be nervous of? Good heavens, there are ten of them! And they’ve got guards too—because of the antiquities. Oh, no, she’s not nervous—at least—’ She seemed struck by some thought and stopped—going on slowly after a minute or two. ‘It’s odd your saying that.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Flight-Lieutenant Jervis and I rode over the other day. It was in the morning. Most of them were up on the dig. She was sitting writing a letter and I suppose she didn’t hear us coming. The boy who brings you in wasn’t about for once, and we came straight up on to the verandah. Apparently she saw Flight-Lieutenant Jervis’s shadow thrown on the wall—and she fairly screamed! Apologized, of course. Said she thought it was a strange man. A bit odd, that. I mean, even if it was a strange man, why get the wind up?’ I nodded thoughtfully. Miss Reilly was silent, then burst out suddenly: ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with them this year. They’ve all got the jumps. Johnson goes about so glum she can’t open her mouth. David never speaks if he can help it. Bill, of course, never stops, and somehow his chatter seems to make the others worse. Carey goes about looking as though something would snap any minute. And they all watch each other as though—as though—Oh, I don’t know, but it’s queer.’ It was odd, I thought, that two such dissimilar people as Miss Reilly and Major Pennyman should have been struck in the same manner. Just then Mr Coleman came bustling in. Bustling was just the word for it. If his tongue had hung out and he had suddenly produced a tail to wag you wouldn’t have been surprised. ‘Hallo-allo,’ he said. ‘Absolutely the world’s best shopper—that’s me. Have you shown nurse all the beauties of the town?’ ‘She wasn’t impressed,’ said Miss Reilly dryly. ‘I don’t blame her,’ said Mr Coleman heartily. ‘Of all the one-horse tumble-down places!’ ‘Not a lover of the picturesque or the antique, are you, Bill? I can’t think why you are an archaeologist.’ ‘Don’t blame me for that. Blame my guardian. He’s a learned bird—fellow of his college—browses among books in bedroom slippers—that kind of man. Bit of a shock for him to have a ward like me.’ ‘I think it’s frightfully stupid of you to be forced into a profession you don’t care for,’ said the girl sharply. ‘Not forced, Sheila, old girl, not forced. The old man asked if I had any special profession in mind, and I said I hadn’t, and so he wangled a season out here for me.’ ‘But haven’t you any idea really what you’d liketo do? You musthave!’ ‘Of course I have. My idea would be to give work a miss altogether. What I’d like to do is to have plenty of money and go in for motor-racing.’ ‘You’re absurd!’ said Miss Reilly. She sounded quite angry. ‘Oh, I realize that it’s quite out of the question,’ said Mr Coleman cheerfully. ‘So, if I’ve got to do something, I don’t much care what it is so long as it isn’t mugging in an office all day long. I was quite agreeable to seeing a bit of the world. Here goes, I said, and along I came.’ ‘And a fat lot of use you must be, I expect!’ ‘There you’re wrong. I can stand up on the dig and shout “Y’Allah” with anybody! And as a matter of fact I’m not so dusty at drawing. Imitating handwriting used to be my speciality at school. I’d have made a first-class forger. Oh, well, I may come to that yet. If my Rolls-Royce splashes you with mud as you’re waiting for a bus, you’ll know that I’ve taken to crime.’ Miss Reilly said coldly: ‘Don’t you think it’s about time you started instead of talking so much?’ ‘Hospitable, aren’t we, nurse?’ ‘I’m sure Nurse Leatheran is anxious to get settled in.’ ‘You’re always sure of everything,’ retorted Mr Coleman with a grin. That was true enough, I thought. Cocksure little minx. I said dryly: ‘Perhaps we’d better start, Mr Coleman.’ ‘Right you are, nurse.’ I shook hands with Miss Reilly and thanked her, and we set off. ‘Damned attractive girl, Sheila,’ said Mr Coleman. ‘But always ticking a fellow off.’ We drove out of the town and presently took a kind of track between green crops. It was very bumpy and full of ruts. After about half an hour Mr Coleman pointed to a big mound by the river bank ahead of us and said: ‘Tell Yarimjah.’ I could see little black figures moving about it like ants. As I was looking they suddenly began to run all together down the side of the mound. ‘Fidos,’ said Mr Coleman. ‘Knocking-off time. We knock off an hour before sunset.’ The expedition house lay a little way back from the river. The driver rounded a corner, bumped through an extremely narrow arch and there we were. The house was built round a courtyard. Originally it had occupied only the south side of the courtyard with a few unimportant out-buildings on the east. The expedition had continued the building on the other two sides. As the plan of the house was to prove of special interest later, I append a rough sketch of it here. All the rooms opened on to the courtyard, and most of the windows—the exception being in the original south building where there were windows giving on the outside country as well. These windows, however, were barred on the outside. In the south-west corner a staircase ran up to a long flat roof with a parapet running the length of the south side of the building which was higher than the other three sides. Mr Coleman led me along the east side of the courtyard and round to where a big open verandah occupied the centre of the south side. He pushed open a door at one side of it and we entered a room where several people were sitting round a tea-table. ‘Toodle-oodle-oo!’ said Mr Coleman. ‘Here’s Sairey Gamp.’ The lady who was sitting at the head of the table rose and came to greet me. I had my first glimpse of Louise Leidner. 第四章 我到达哈桑 4 三天以后，我离开了巴格达。 我离开克尔西太太和她的小宝宝，觉得很难过。那个小宝宝是个很可爱的小孩儿，养得白白胖胖，每周都会适当地增加几两体重。克尔西少校送我到车站，等开车后才回去。我应该第二大早晨到达克科克。那里会有人接我。 我在火车上睡得不好，老是做梦，颇以为苦。 虽然如此，第二天早晨，我醒来时往窗外一望，天朗气清，于是，我就对于即将见到的人感到兴趣与好奇。 正当我站在月台上犹豫不决、四下张望的时候，看见一个年轻人朝我这里走过来。他有一个红红的圆面孔。在我有生以来，实在从未见到确实像乌德豪先生幽默小说里的年轻人。 “哈罗，哈罗，哈罗，”他说，“是列瑟兰护士吗？啊，我是说，你必定是的——我可以看得出，哈，哈！我的名字是柯尔曼。 雷德纳博士派我来的，你好吗？一路辛苦吧？我可知道这火车上的情形！啊，现在一你吃过早餐吗？这是你的行李吗？你很朴素，对不对？雷德纳太太有四个手提箱，一个大衣箱——一个帽盒，一个上等的枕头，七七八八的，其他物件，那就不在话下。我说的话太多吗？到老巴士上来坐吧！” 有一辆车子等在那里，后来我听见有人把那种车子称为旅行车。那车子有点像四轮游览马车，有点像长形四轮车，也有点像汽车。柯尔曼先生扶我上车，一面对我说明，顶好坐在驾驶座位旁边的位子上，震动得比较小些。 震动！不知道这个价值可疑的新玩艺会不会崩溃成碎片。 而且，这马路一点不像是马路——只是一种路，上面都是车辙和泥坑。真是辉煌灿烂的东方吗？当我想到我们英国那些漂亮的公路干线时，就觉得充满乡愁。 柯尔曼由后面他的座位上向前探过身子来，在我耳边大声讲了许多话。 “路的状况很好，”等到车子把我们大家几乎颠到车顶以后，他对我这样喊。 虽然他是在认真地说的。 “这样对人很好，刺激肝脏，使它能灵活地发挥功能。”他说：“护士小姐，这你应该懂得。” “如果我的头震裂了，受了刺激的肝脏对我是没什么好处的。”我厉声地说。 “你应该在雨后到这里来走走，棒极了。大部分的时间我们都是向侧面走的。” 对这个我没有反应。 不久，我们就得渡河了。我们渡河乘的是你可以想象到的最不稳当的渡船。我觉得全靠主的慈悲，我们才能渡过，但是，每人似乎都以为这是很平常的。 我们费了四个小时才到达哈沙尼。出乎我的意料，那是一个很大的地方。我们由河的另一边渡到那里之前，那地方看起来也很美！白色的屋字矗立在那里，有回教的尖塔，像仙境。虽然如此，当我们过了桥，来到那地方时，就有一些不同了。如此难闻的气味，房子都摇摇欲倾，破败不堪，到处都是泥泞，一片脏乱。 柯尔曼把我带到瑞利大夫的家里。他说，瑞利大夫就在家等着我一同吃午饭。 瑞利大夫像以前一样的亲切，他的房子也很好，有浴室，样样东西都是崭新的。我舒舒服服地洗了一个澡，等到我穿上制服，走下楼时，我觉得很愉快。 午餐刚刚准备好，于是，我们便走进餐厅，大夫替他的女儿道歉。他说她经常是晚来的。 我们刚刚吃了一道酱烧蛋，她就走了进来。瑞利大夫说：“护士小姐，这是小女雪拉。” 她同我握手，问我一路可好，同时把帽子扔到一边，对柯尔曼先生冷冷地点点头，便坐下来。 “啊，比尔，”她说，“近来怎么样？” 他开始和她谈关于俱乐部即将举行的宴会之类的事。于是，我就对她打量一番。 我不能说很喜欢她。她的态度稍嫌冷淡，不是我喜欢的那种女孩子。虽然好看，却显得太随随便便。黑发，碧眼——有点苍白的面孔和常见的涂着唇膏的嘴巴。她讲起话来，冷冷的，带着讽刺的调子，令人不快。以前我底下有个见习护士很像她——我承认，那是一个工作表现很好的女孩儿，但是她的态度始终令人不快。 我觉得柯尔曼先生似乎已经让她弄得神魂颠倒了。他说手话来，有点口吃，所说的话比以前更愚蠢。他这模样使我想起一只直摇尾巴的狗，拼命要讨人欢喜。 午餐后，瑞利大夫到医院去了。柯尔曼先生要进城去取一些东西。雪拉小姐问我，是想到城里逛逛呢，还是留在家里。她说，柯尔曼先生一小时之后会回来接我。 “有什么可以看看的地方吗？”我问。 “有一些很别致的地方，”雪拉小姐说，“但是，我不知道你是否喜欢。那里非常脏。”她的这种说法使找有点儿火。我始终不能了解，为什么一个地方只要别致，脏一点儿就可以原谅。 未了，她带我到俱乐部。那地方面对着河，倒很可喜。那里有英文报纸和杂志。 我们回来的时候，柯尔曼先生尚未到：于是我们就坐下来聊天。不知为什么，我们聊得并不轻松。 她问我是否见过雷德纳太太。 “没有，”我说，“只见过她的先生。” “啊，”她说，“不知道你对她会如何想法。” 对这个，我没说什么。于是，她接着说下去：“我很喜欢雷德纳博士。人人都喜欢他。” 我想那就等于说：你不喜欢他的太太。 我仍然没说什么，不久，她突然问：“她怎么了，雷德纳博士对你说过吗？” 我不打算在尚未见到病人之前就说她的闲话。所以，我便含糊其词地说：“听说她的身体不大好，需要人照顾。” 她哈哈大笑——那是一种恶意的笑声——刺耳而且粗鲁。 “哎呀，”她说，“有九个人照顾她，难道还不够吗？” “我想他们都有自己的工作要做。”我说。 “有工作要做吗？当然他们有工作做。但是，先要照顾露伊思——她一定要这样，一点不能含糊。” 对了——我想——你不喜欢她。 “我仍然不明白，”瑞利小姐继续说，“她要请一个医院来的专门护士来做什么。我倒以为找一个外行人照顾，更适合。 我觉得不需要一个经常把体温计塞到她口里，按她的脉搏，把样样事都得确确实实地办的人来照顾她。” 啊，我得承认，我很好奇。 “你以为她没什么毛病吗？”我问。 “当然，她什么毛病都没有！那个女人像牛一样的健壮。 ‘亲爱的露伊思一夜没睡’，‘她的眼睛下面有黑圈。’对了，用蓝铅笔把它记下来吧！不管做什么，只要引人注意就好。要让每个人都在她身边团团转，大惊小怪地照顾她。” 当然，她的话有点道理。我看到过一些患优郁症的病人（哪个护士没见过？）他们最喜欢举家上下都围着自己团团转，伺候他们。假若大夫或护士对他们说，“你实在一点毛病都没有！”那么，首先，他们就不相信。他们那副愤怒的样子倒是实实在在的。 当然啦，雷德纳太太很可能就是这种病人；很自然的，做大夫的就是首先受骗的人。我发现，就疾病而言，做大夫的是最容易轻信的人。但是，这仍然与我所听到的话不符合。例如，这与“安全得多”这几个字不符合。 奇怪，那几个字我怎么总忘不了？ 我想到这个、便说：“雷德纳太太是一个神经过敏的人吗？譬如说，远游在外，她不觉得紧张吗？” “有什么事情会使她神经紧张的：哎呀，他们那里有十个人哪！，而且，他们还有守卫——那是因为要保护古物，啊，不会，不会！她不会神经紧张的——至少——” 她拟乎突然想起一件什么事，忽然住嘴——过了一两分钟，又慢慢地继续说下去。 “很奇怪，你会那样说。” “为什么？” “我和贾维斯空军上尉前几天驾车到他们那里去。那是在上午，他们大部分人都到发掘场工作去了。她正坐在那里写信，我想她是听见我们进来了。平常接客人进来的那个仆人只有在那一次不在，我们一直走到廊子里。她显然看到墙上贾维斯上尉的影子——她吓得尖叫起来！后来，她当然向我们道歉。她说她以为是个陌生的男人。那也有些奇怪。我是说，即使是上个陌生的男人，为什么会害怕呢？” 我忍耐着，点点头。 瑞利小姐沉默片刻，然后突然说：“我不知道他们今年有什么不对劲儿。他们都显得心神不安。詹森总是闷闷不乐的，因此，她简直不能开口。大维能不说话就不说话，比尔当然永不停嘴。不过，不知道为什么，他那喋喋不休的话反而使别人更不安。贾雷走来走去，那样子仿佛是一根弦随时都会折断。 而且他们都彼此防备着，仿佛——仿佛——啊，我不知道是什么——可是很奇怪。” 我想，很奇怪，像瑞利小姐和潘尼曼少校那样迥然不同的两个人，怎么会有同样的感觉。 就在这个时候，柯尔曼先生慌慌忙忙地走进来。“慌慌忙忙”这几个字正好可以形容那种情形。假若他的舌头闲着，他忽然拿出一个尾巴来摇个不停，你也不会觉得奇怪。 “哈——罗！”他说，“全世界最会采购的人——那就是我！你带护士小姐去参观本城的美景了吗？” “她的印象很不好，”瑞利小姐冷冷地说。 “这也难怪，”柯尔曼先生亲切地说，“这实在是个最破旧的乡下地方。” “你不是一个爱好别致玩艺儿或者古物的人，对不对？比尔？我真想不出你为什么干考古工作。” “这不能怪我。要怪我的监护人。他是饱学之士——他是他那个大学的研究教授——就是在家里穿着便鞋的时候也博览群籍——他就是那一种人。有一个像我这样的人要监护，多少有点使他感到震惊；” “我想，你这样被迫从事这个自己不喜欢的职业，真是惨透了。”那位小姐尖刻地说。 “不是被迫，雪拉，好小姐，不是被迫。老先生问我想要从事什么特别的职业，我说我没什么特别的愿望。因此，他就设法让我在这里服务一个挖掘期。” “但是，难道你实在不知道你喜欢做什么吗？你必须要知道呀。” “我当然知道呀。我的想法是什么工作都不担任。我喜欢做的事是有很多的钱，参加赛车活动。” “你真荒唐！”瑞利小姐说。 她的话听起来像是很生气的样子。 “啊，我知道这是不可能的，”柯尔曼兴致勃勃地说，“所以，假若我必须要做点事，只要不是在办公室里一天到晚的苦干，做什么我都不在乎。我很愿意到世界各处游历一下。‘瞧我的！’我说，于是，我就来了。” “我想，你这人必定是大有用处啦？” “这你就错了。我能像任何人一样站在挖掘工地大喊‘安拉！’并且，我在绘画方面还不错呢，我在学校的时候模仿别人的笔迹是我的特长呢。假若有必要，我还会成为第一流的伪造专家。啊，我也许会干那一行的。假若有一天，你在等候公共汽车的时候，我的豪华汽车溅得你一身泥，你就会知道我已经是犯罪老手了。” 瑞利小姐冷冷地说：“你不觉得不该讲这许多话吗？不是该动身的时候吗？” “我们很好客，是不是，护士小姐？” “我相信列瑟兰护士一定急于安顿下来。” “你样样事都有把握。”柯尔曼先生咧着嘴笑笑，这样反击她。 我想，你说的是实在的。自信过强的调皮姑娘。 我冷冷地说：“也许我们还是动身好，柯尔曼先生。” “你说得对，护士小姐。” 我和瑞利小姐握手，向她道谢，然后，我们就出发。 “雪拉，是个漂亮的女孩子，”柯尔曼先生说，“但是，总是喜欢责备人。” 、 我们的车子开出城外，不久，就来到绿油油的麦田当中的一条道路，这条路崎岖不平，有很多土坑。 大约半小时之后，柯尔曼先生指指我们前面河岸边一个大的土丘说：“亚瑞米亚古丘。” 我可以看到一些黑黑的小人，像蚂蚁似的走动着。 当我望过去的时候，他们突然一齐由那小丘的边上跑下来。 “费多斯，”柯尔曼先生说，“是下班的时候了。我们在日落以前一小时下班。” 考察团的房子在河那边不远的地方。 司机将车子绕着一个墙角开过去，颠颠簸簸地驶过一个非常窄的拱门，我们就到了。 那房子是围着一个庭院造的。原来只占据庭院的南边，东边是一些不重要的附属建筑物。考察团在另外两边续建了一些房子。因为这房子的平面图到后来有特别重要的参考价值，我在这里附加一个粗略的图样。 所有的房间，门都对着庭院开，窗户大多也是如此——例外的是原来南边所建的房间，那一边的房子也有向外面田野开的窗户。不过，这些窗户都由外面装上铁栅，在西南角上有一个楼梯，通到一个有长栏干的屋顶，同南边的建筑一样长，而且比其他三面的建筑都高。柯尔曼先生领我走过庭院东边，然后绕到一个占据南边中心的，没门的柱廊。他推开柱廊一边的门，于是我们就走进一个房间。那里已有几个人，正围着一个茶桌坐着。 “都都！（模拟汽车喇叭声，意谓再见，有开玩笑之意——译者注）”，柯尔曼先生说，“这位是‘莎蕊•甘普！（SaireyGamp，英国十九世纪小说家狄更斯小说《马丁•洽兹尔米特》里一位爱撑布伞的护士——译者注）。” 坐在桌子头上那位太太站起来欢迎我。 于是，我初次见到露伊思•雷德纳。 Chapter 5 Tell Yarimjah Chapter 5 Tell Yarimjah I don’t mind admitting that my first impression on seeing Mrs Leidner was one of downright surprise. One gets into the way of imagining a person when one hears them talked about. I’d got it firmly into my head that Mrs Leidner was a dark, discontented kind of woman. The nervy kind, all on edge. And then, too, I’d expected her to be—well, to put it frankly—a bit vulgar. She wasn’t a bit like what I’d imagined her! To begin with, she was very fair. She wasn’t a Swede, like her husband, but she might have been as far as looks went. She had that blonde Scandinavian fairness that you don’t very often see. She wasn’t a young woman. Midway between thirty and forty, I should say. Her face was rather haggard, and there was some grey hair mingled with the fairness. Her eyes, though, were lovely. They were the only eyes I’ve ever come across that you might truly describe as violet. They were very large, and there were faint shadows underneath them. She was very thin and fragile-looking, and if I say that she had an air of intense weariness and was at the same time very much alive, it sounds like nonsense—but that’s the feeling I got. I felt, too, that she was a lady through and through. And that means something—even nowadays. She put out her hand and smiled. Her voice was low and soft with an American drawl in it. ‘I’m so glad you’ve come, nurse. Will you have some tea? Or would you like to go to your room first?’ I said I’d have tea, and she introduced me to the people sitting round the table. ‘This is Miss Johnson—and Mr Reiter. Mrs Mercado. Mr Emmott. Father Lavigny. My husband will be in presently. Sit down here between Father Lavigny and Miss Johnson.’ I did as I was bid and Miss Johnson began talking to me, asking about my journey and so on. I liked her. She reminded me of a matron I’d had in my probationer days whom we had all admired and worked hard for. She was getting on for fifty, I should judge, and rather mannish in appearance, with iron-grey hair cropped short. She had an abrupt, pleasant voice, rather deep in tone. She had an ugly rugged face with an almost laughably turned-up nose which she was in the habit of rubbing irritably when anything troubled or perplexed her. She wore a tweed coat and skirt made rather like a man’s. She told me presently that she was a native of Yorkshire. Father Lavigny I found just a bit alarming. He was a tall man with a great black beard and pince-nez. I had heard Mrs Kelsey say that there was a French monk there, and I now saw that Father Lavigny was wearing a monk’s robe of some white woollen material. It surprised me rather, because I always understood that monks went into monasteries and didn’t come out again. Mrs Leidner talked to him mostly in French, but he spoke to me in quite fair English. I noticed that he had shrewd, observant eyes which darted about from face to face. Opposite me were the other three. Mr Reiter was a stout, fair young man with glasses. His hair was rather long and curly, and he had very round blue eyes. I should think he must have been a lovely baby, but he wasn’t much to look at now! In fact he was just a little like a pig. The other young man had very short hair cropped close to his head. He had a long, rather humorous face and very good teeth, and he looked very attractive when he smiled. He said very little, though, just nodded if spoken to or answered in monosyllables. He, like Mr Reiter, was an American. The last person was Mrs Mercado, and I couldn’t have a good look at her because whenever I glanced in her direction I always found her staring at me with a kind of hungry stare that was a bit disconcerting to say the least of it. You might have thought a hospital nurse was a strange animal the way she was looking at me. No manners at all! She was quite young—not more than about twenty-five—and sort of dark and slinky-looking, if you know what I mean. Quite nice-looking in a kind of way, but rather as though she might have what my mother used to call ‘a touch of the tar-brush’. She had on a very vivid pullover and her nails matched it in colour. She had a thin bird-like eager face with big eyes and rather a tight, suspicious mouth The tea was very good—a nice strong blend—not like the weak China stuff that Mrs Kelsey always had and that had been a sore trial to me. There was toast and jam and a plate of rock buns and a cutting cake. Mr Emmott was very polite passing me things. Quiet as he was he always seemed to notice when my plate was empty. Presently Mr Coleman bustled in and took the place beyond Miss Johnson. There didn’t seem to be anything the matter with hisnerves. He talked away nineteen to the dozen. Mrs Leidner sighed once and cast a wearied look in his direction but it didn’t have any effect. Nor did the fact that Mrs Mercado, to whom he was addressing most of his conversation, was far too busy watching me to do more than make perfunctory replies. Just as we were finishing, Dr Leidner and Mr Mercado came in from the dig. Dr Leidner greeted me in his nice kind manner. I saw his eyes go quickly and anxiously to his wife’s face and he seemed to be relieved by what he saw there. Then he sat down at the other end of the table, and Mr Mercado sat down in the vacant place by Mrs Leidner. He was a tall, thin, melancholy man, a good deal older than his wife, with a sallow complexion and a queer, soft, shapeless-looking beard. I was glad when he came in, for his wife stopped staring at me and transferred her attention to him, watching him with a kind of anxious impatience that I found rather odd. He himself stirred his tea dreamily and said nothing at all. A piece of cake lay untasted on his plate. There was still one vacant place, and presently the door opened and a man came in. The moment I saw Richard Carey I felt he was one of the handsomest men I’d seen for a long time—and yet I doubt if that were really so. To say a man is handsome and at the same time to say he looks like a death’s head sounds a rank contradiction, and yet it was true. His head gave the effect of having the skin stretched unusually tight over the bones—but they were beautiful bones. The lean line of jaw and temple and forehead was so sharply outlined that he reminded me of a bronze statue. Out of this lean brown face looked two of the brightest and most intensely blue eyes I have ever seen. He stood about six foot and was, I should imagine, a little under forty years of age. Dr Leidner said: ‘This is Mr Carey, our architect, nurse.’ He murmured something in a pleasant, inaudible English voice and sat down by Mrs Mercado. Mrs Leidner said: ‘I’m afraid the tea is a little cold, Mr Carey.’ He said: ‘Oh, that’s quite all right, Mrs Leidner. My fault for being late. I wanted to finish plotting those walls.’ Mrs Mercado said, ‘Jam, Mr Carey?’ Mr Reiter pushed forward the toast. And I remembered Major Pennyman saying: ‘I can explain best what I mean by saying that they all passed the butter to each other a shade too politely.’ Yes, there was something a little odd about it… A shade formal… You’d have said it was a party of strangers—not people who had known each other—some of them—for quite a number of years. 第五章 特勒亚里 5 我不妨承认：我见到雷德纳太大的第一印象是大吃一惊。 当我们听到别人谈到某个人的时候很容易想象那个人的样子。我的脑筋里有一个牢牢的印象，以为雷德纳太太是一个揭发的、老是感到不满足的那一种女人，一种神经质的人，总是非常神经紧张。还有，我也预料到她是——啊，坦白地说——有点儿庸俗的。 她丝毫不像我所想象的那个样子！首先，她的头发是金色的，皮肤很白。她不像她的丈夫，并不是瑞士人，但是照她的样子看来，也许是的。她有那种不常见的，斯堪的纳维亚式的金发白肤的特征，她已经不年轻了，我想，大概在三十到四十之间。她的面色有些憔悴，金黄的头发夹杂一些灰发。不过，她的眼睛是很可爱的。就我见到的而言，那种眼睛是唯一可以用“紫罗兰色”这种字眼来形容的，她的眼睛很大，下面隐约地有些暗影。她很瘦，弱不禁风的样子。假若我说，她有一种极疲乏的神气，可是同时又显得非常充满活力，这话听起来仿佛是胡说八道一但是，那就是我的感觉。我也觉得她是一个彻头彻尾的端庄的妇人。这就很了本起了——即使就时下的标准说，也是如此。 她伸出手来，面露笑容，她的声音低而柔和，其中有美国人那种慢吞吞的调子。 “护士小姐，你能来我真高兴。喝点茶好不好？或者是先到你的房间去？” 我说我要喝茶。然后，她为我介绍在座的各位。 “这位是詹森小姐——瑞特先生，麦加多太太，爱莫特先生，拉维尼神父。我先生马上就来。请坐在拉维尼神父和詹森小姐之间吧。” 我就照办。于是，詹森小姐就开始同我谈话，问我一路可好等等的话。 我喜欢她。看到她就不由得想起我做见习护士时的一个护士长，当时我们都很佩服她。大家都在她下面努力工作。 她快五十了——这是我的判断——外型有些男子气，铁灰色的头发，剪得短短的，说起话来声音断断续续的，很悦耳，声调多少有些低沉；她有一副丑陋、多皱纹的面孔，还有一个简直是很可笑的朝天鼻，遇有苦恼或困惑的时候，习惯上老是急躁地用手揉一揉：她穿一身苏格兰粗呢的套装，颇像男人穿的衣服。她马上就告诉我她是约克郡人。 拉维尼神父我发现到有一点吓人。他是一个高个子，留着长胡子，戴夹鼻眼镜的人。我听克尔西太太说，那里有一个法国修道士。现在我看见拉维尼神父穿一件白色毛料的修道士袍子。我略感惊奇，因为，我总以为修道士都是进修道院潜修，再也不出来的。 雷德纳太太大部分都是用法语同他交谈，但是，他同我交谈时用很清楚的英语。我注意到他有两只机灵、锐敏的眼睛，他的眼光总是很快地由一个人的面孔扫射到另一个人的面孔。 坐在我对面的是另外三个人。瑞特先生是一个胖胖的年法人，金发碧眼，戴着眼镜，他的头发颇长，有一个一个小卷，还有很圆的篮眼睛。我想，他小时候一定很可爱，但是，他现在看起来就不怎么样了。其实，他的模样有点像猪。另外一个年轻人头发剪得非常短。他有一副长长的、颇幽默的面孔，和雪白的牙齿，笑起来很迷人。不过，他的话很少。有人对他讲话，他只是点点头，或用单音字来回答。他像瑞特先生一样，是美国人。最后一个是麦加多太太。我没有很仔细地看她是什么样子，因为每当我朝她那一个方向望的时候，总是发现她在用一种饿狼扑鼠似的眼光在注视我。我这样说，毫不夸张。她对我注视的那个样子，你要是看了就会觉得一个医院里的护士是一个很奇怪的动物。一点儿礼貌也没有。 她很年轻——大约不过二十五岁——皮肤颇黑。她有一副瘦削的、神气很急切的面孔，还有大大的眼睛，绷得有些紧的、善疑的嘴巴。 茶很好——那是一种很好喝、很浓的混合品种——不像克尔西太太常用的那种清香扑鼻的中国茶。 茶点之中有果酱吐司和一盘硬壳葡萄于甜面包，还有蛋糕切片。爱莫特先生很客气地把茶点递给我。他虽然很沉静，但是，当我的盘子空了的时候，他总是会注意到的。 不久，柯尔曼先生就慌慌张张地进来，坐到詹森小姐那一边的座位上。看样子似乎他的神经没什么问题。他只是喋喋 不休地谈着。 雷德纳太太叹了一口气；样子很厌倦地朝他那个方向望望，但是，毫无效果。他的话大部分都是对麦加多太太讲的。但是，麦加多太太忙着观察我，所以除了敷衍他一两句之外，没工夫同他多谈。可是仍然没用。 我们刚要用完茶点，雷德纳博士和麦加多先生由挖掘场回来了。 、 雷德纳博士用他那和悦、亲切的态度同我打招呼。我看见他很担心地，对他太太迅速地瞥了一眼，似乎对他看到的情形感到安心。于是，他就在桌子的另一头坐下来。麦加多先生坐在雷德纳太太旁边那个空位子上。他是个高高的、瘦瘦的、样子很忧郁的人，比他的太太大得多，有一副蜡黄的面孔，和怪怪的、软软的乱得不成样子的胡于。我很庆幸他的来到，因为他的太太不再注视我，把注意力转向他，她用一种又担心又不耐烦的态度望着他，使我觉得相当奇怪。他搅和一下茶，像在做梦似的，一语不发。他的盘子上有一片蛋糕，原封未动。 仍有一个空位子。不久，门开了，一个人走了进来。 我一看到瑞洽德•贾雷，就觉得他是个最漂亮的人。这样漂亮的人我已经许久没见过了。但是，我怀疑他实际上是否如此。要是说一个人很漂亮，但同时又说他看起来像有一个死人的头，这话听起来是极端矛盾的，但是，这是实在的。他的头令人感觉到上面的皮仿佛是异乎寻常的，紧绷在骨头上。但是头的骨骼很美。那嘴巴、太阳穴，和前额的线条，轮廓分明，使我想到一个铜像。由那张瘦削的褐面孔上，两只我平生所仅见的，最亮、最蓝的眼睛，向我张望。他身高六尺，年纪嘛，我想是不到四十岁。 雷德纳博士说：“这是贾雷先生，我们的建筑师。” 他用一种愉快的，几乎听不见的英国腔调说几句话，然后在麦加多太太旁边坐下。 雷德纳太太说：“恐怕茶有点冷了，贾雷先生。” 他说，“啊，那个没关系，雷德纳太太。我的毛病就是总是晚到。我本来想把墙壁的设计图画完。” 麦加多太太说：“要果酱吗，贾雷先生？” 瑞特先生把吐司推过去。 于是，我就想起潘尼曼先生说的话：“他们彼此递牛油的时候，有点太客气了。我告诉你们这一件事，最能够表明我的意思。” 是的，关于这件事，是有些奇怪。他们有点拘礼。你也许会说，这是彼此互不相识的人聚在一起吃茶点——不是彼此熟悉的人——但其中有几个已经彼此认识好几年了。 Chapter 6 First Evening Chapter 6 First Evening After tea Mrs Leidner took me to show me my room. Perhaps here I had better give a short description of the arrangement of the rooms. This was very simple and can easily be understood by a reference to the plan. On either side of the big open porch were doors leading into the two principal rooms. That on the right led into the dining-room, where we had tea. The one on the other side led into an exactly similar room (I have called it the living-room) which was used as a sitting-room and kind of informal workroom—that is, a certain amount of drawing (other than the strictly architectural) was done there, and the more delicate pieces of pottery were brought there to be pieced together. Through the living-room one passed into the antiquities-room where all the finds from the dig were brought in and stored on shelves and in pigeon-holes, and also laid out on big benches and tables. From the antika-room there was no exit save through the living-room. Beyond the antika-room, but reached through a door which gave on the courtyard, was Mrs Leidner’s bedroom. This, like the other rooms on that side of the house, had a couple of barred windows looking out over the ploughed countryside. Round the corner next to Mrs Leidner’s room, but with no actual communicating door, was Dr Leidner’s room. This was the first of the rooms on the east side of the building. Next to it was the room that was to be mine. Next to me was Miss Johnson’s, with Mr and Mrs Mercado’s beyond. After that came two so-called bathrooms. (When I once used that last term in the hearing of Dr Reilly he laughed at me and said a bathroom was either a bathroom or not a bathroom! All the same, when you’ve got used to taps and proper plumbing, it seems strange to call a couple of mud-rooms with a tin hip-bath in each of them, and muddy water brought in kerosene tins, bathrooms!) All this side of the building had been added by Dr Leidner to the original Arab house. The bedrooms were all the same, each with a window and a door giving on to the courtyard. Along the north side were the drawing-office, the laboratory and the photographic rooms. To return to the verandah, the arrangement of rooms was much the same on the other side. There was the dining-room leading into the office where the files were kept and the cataloguing and typing was done. Corresponding to Mrs Leidner’s room was that of Father Lavigny, who was given the largest bedroom; he used it also for the decoding—or whatever you call it—of tablets. In the south-west corner was the staircase running up to the roof. On the west side were first the kitchen quarters and then four small bedrooms used by the young men—Carey, Emmott, Reiter and Coleman. At the north-west corner was the photographic-room with the dark-room leading out of it. Next to that the laboratory. Then came the only entrance—the big arched doorway through which we had entered. Outside were sleeping quarters for the native servants, the guard-house for the soldiers, and stables, etc., for the water horses. The drawing-office was to the right of the archway occupying the rest of the north side. I have gone into the arrangements of the house rather fully here because I don’t want to have to go over them again later. As I say, Mrs Leidner herself took me round the building and finally established me in my bedroom, hoping that I should be comfortable and have everything I wanted. The room was nicely though plainly furnished—a bed, a chest of drawers, a wash-stand and a chair. ‘The boys will bring you hot water before lunch and dinner—and in the morning, of course. If you want it any other time, go outside and clap your hands, and when the boy comes say, jib mai’ har. Do you think you can remember that?’ I said I thought so and repeated it a little haltingly ‘That’s right. And be sure and shout it. Arabs don’t understand anything said in an ordinary “English” voice.’ ‘Languages are funny things,’ I said. ‘It seems odd there should be such a lot of different ones.’ Mrs Leidner smiled. ‘There is a church in Palestine in which the Lord’s Prayer is written up in—ninety, I think it is—different languages.’ ‘Well!’ I said. ‘I must write and tell my old aunt that. She willbe interested.’ Mrs Leidner fingered the jug and basin absently and shifted the soap-dish an inch or two.’ ‘I do hope you’ll be happy here,’ she said, ‘and not get too bored.’ ‘I’m not often bored,’ I assured her. ‘Life’s not long enough for that.’ She did not answer. She continued to toy with the washstand as though abstractedly. Suddenly she fixed her dark violet eyes on my face. ‘What exactly did my husband tell you, nurse?’ Well, one usually says the same thing to a question of that kind. ‘I gathered you were a bit run-down and all that, Mrs Leidner,’ I said glibly. ‘And that you just wanted someone to look after you and take any worries off your hands.’ She bent her head slowly and thoughtfully. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes—that will do very well.’ That was just a little bit enigmatic, but I wasn’t going to question it. Instead I said: ‘I hope you’ll let me help you with anything there is to do in the house. You mustn’t let me be idle.’ She smiled a little. ‘Thank you, nurse.’ Then she sat down on the bed and, rather to my surprise, began to cross-question me rather closely. I say rather to my surprise because, from the moment I set eyes on her, I felt sure that Mrs Leidner was a lady. And a lady, in my experience, very seldom displays curiosity about one’s private affairs. But Mrs Leidner seemed anxious to know everything there was to know about me. Where I’d trained and how long ago. What had brought me out to the East. How it had come about that Dr Reilly had recommended me. She even asked me if I had ever been in America or had any relations in America. One or two other questions she asked me that seemed quite purposeless at the time, but of which I saw the significance later. Then, suddenly, her manner changed. She smiled—a warm sunny smile—and she said, very sweetly, that she was very glad I had come and that she was sure I was going to be a comfort to her. She got up from the bed and said: ‘Would you like to come up to the roof and see the sunset? It’s usually very lovely about this time.’ I agreed willingly. As we went out of the room she asked: ‘Were there many other people on the train from Baghdad? Any men?’ I said that I hadn’t noticed anybody in particular. There had been two Frenchmen in the restaurant-car the night before. And a party of three men whom I gathered from their conversation had to do with the Pipe line. She nodded and a faint sound escaped her. It sounded like a small sigh of relief. We went up to the roof together. Mrs Mercado was there, sitting on the parapet, and Dr Leidner was bending over looking at a lot of stones and broken pottery that were laid in rows. There were big things he called querns, and pestles and celts and stone axes, and more broken bits of pottery with queer patterns on them than I’ve ever seen all at once. ‘Come over here,’ called out Mrs Mercado. ‘Isn’t it tootoo beautiful?’ It certainly was a beautiful sunset. Hassanieh in the distance looked quite fairy-like with the setting sun behind it, and the River Tigris flowing between its wide banks looked like a dream river rather than a real one. ‘Isn’t it lovely, Eric?’ said Mrs Leidner. The doctor looked up with abstracted eyes, murmured, ‘Lovely, lovely,’ perfunctorily and went on sorting potsherds. Mrs Leidner smiled and said: ‘Archaeologists only look at what lies beneath their feet. The sky and the heavens don’t exist for them.’ Mrs Mercado giggled. ‘Oh, they’re very queer people—you’ll soon find thatout, nurse,’ she said. She paused and then added: ‘We are all soglad you’ve come. We’ve been so very worried about dear Mrs Leidner, haven’t we, Louise?’ ‘Have you?’ Her voice was not encouraging. ‘Oh, yes. She really has been verybad, nurse. All sorts of alarms and excursions. You know when anybody says to me of someone, “It’s just nerves,” I always say: but what could be worse? Nerves are the core and centre of one’s being, aren’t they?’ ‘Puss, puss,’ I thought to myself. Mrs Leidner said dryly: ‘Well, you needn’t be worried about me any more, Marie. Nurse is going to look after me.’ ‘Certainly I am,’ I said cheerfully. ‘I’m sure that will make all the difference,’ said Mrs Mercado. ‘We’ve all felt that she ought to see a doctor or do something. Her nerves have really been all to pieces, haven’t they, Louise dear?’ ‘So much so that I seem to have got on yournerves with them,’ said Mrs Leidner. ‘Shall we talk about something more interesting than my wretched ailments?’ I understood then that Mrs Leidner was the sort of woman who could easily make enemies. There was a cool rudeness in her tone (not that I blamed her for it) which brought a flush to Mrs Mercado’s rather sallow cheeks. She stammered out something, but Mrs Leidner had risen and had joined her husband at the other end of the roof. I doubt if he heard her coming till she laid her hand on his shoulder, then he looked up quickly. There was affection and a kind of eager questioning in his face. Mrs Leidner nodded her head gently. Presently, her arm through his, they wandered to the far parapet and finally down the steps together. ‘He’s devoted to her, isn’t he?’ said Mrs Mercado. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s very nice to see.’ She was looking at me with a queer, rather eager sidelong glance. ‘What do you think is really the matter with her, nurse?’ she asked, lowering her voice a little. ‘Oh, I don’t suppose it’s much,’ I said cheerfully ‘Just a bit run-down, I expect.’ Her eyes still bored into me as they had done at tea. She said abruptly: ‘Are you a mental nurse?’ ‘Oh, dear, no!’ I said. ‘What made you think that?’ She was silent for a moment, then she said: ‘Do you know how queer she’s been? Did Dr Leidner tell you?’ I don’t hold with gossiping about my cases. On the other hand, it’s my experience that it’s often very hard to get the truth out of relatives, and until you know the truth you’re often working in the dark and doing no good. Of course, when there’s a doctor in charge, it’s different. He tells you what it’s necessary for you to know. But in this case there wasn’t a doctor in charge. Dr Reilly had never been called in professionally. And in my own mind I wasn’t at all sure that Dr Leidner had told me all he could have done. It’s often the husband’s instinct to be reticent—and more honour to him, I must say. But all the same, the more I knew the better I could tell which line to take. Mrs Mercado (whom I put down in my own mind as a thoroughly spiteful little cat) was clearly dying to talk. And frankly, on the human side as well as the professional, I wanted to hear what she had to say. You can put it that I was just everyday curious if you like. I said, ‘I gather Mrs Leidner’s not been quite her normal self lately?’ Mrs Mercado laughed disagreeably. ‘Normal? I should say not. Frightening us to death. One night it was fingers tapping on her window. And then it was a hand without an arm attached. But when it came to a yellow face pressed against the window—and when she rushed to the window there was nothing there—well, I ask you, it isa bit creepy for all of us.’ ‘Perhaps somebody was playing a trick on her,’ I suggested. ‘Oh, no, she fancied it all. And only three days ago at dinner they were firing shots in the village—nearly a mile away—and she jumped up and screamed out—it scared us all to death. As for Dr Leidner, he rushed to her and behaved in the most ridiculous way. “It’s nothing, darling, it’s nothing at all,” he kept saying. I think, you know, nurse, men sometimes encouragewomen in these hysterical fancies. It’s a pity because it’s a bad thing. Delusions shouldn’t be encouraged.’ ‘Not if they aredelusions,’ I said dryly. ‘What else could they be?’ I didn’t answer because I didn’t know what to say. It was a funny business. The shots and the screaming were natural enough—for anyone in a nervous condition, that is. But this queer story of a spectral face and hand was different. It looked to me like one of two things—either Mrs Leidner had made the story up (exactly as a child shows off by telling lies about something that never happened in order to make herself the centre of attraction) or else it was, as I had suggested, a deliberate practical joke. It was the sort of thing, I reflected, that an unimaginative hearty sort of young fellow like Mr Coleman might think very funny. I decided to keep a close watch on him. Nervous patients can be scared nearly out of their minds by a silly joke. Mrs Mercado said with a sideways glance at me: ‘She’s very romantic-looking, nurse, don’t you think so? The sort of woman things happento.’ ‘Have many things happened to her?’ I asked. ‘Well, her first husband was killed in the war when she was only twenty. I think that’s very pathetic and romantic, don’t you?’ ‘It’s one way of calling a goose a swan,’ I said dryly. ‘Oh, nurse! What an extraordinary remark!’ It was really a very true one. The amount of women you hear say, ‘If Donald—or Arthur—or whatever his name was—had onlylived.’ And I sometimes think but if he had, he’d have been a stout, unromantic, short-tempered, middle-aged husband as likely as not. It was getting dark and I suggested that we should go down. Mrs Mercado agreed and asked if I would like to see the laboratory. ‘My husband will be there—working.’ I said I would like to very much and we made our way there. The place was lighted by a lamp, but it was empty. Mrs Mercado showed me some of the apparatus and some copper ornaments that were being treated, and also some bones coated with wax. ‘Where can Joseph be?’ said Mrs Mercado. She looked into the drawing-office, where Carey was at work. He hardly looked up as we entered, and I was struck by the extraordinary look of strain on his face. It came to me suddenly: ‘This man is at the end of his tether. Very soon, something will snap.’ And I remembered somebody else had noticed that same tenseness about him. As we went out again I turned my head for one last look at him. He was bent over his paper, his lips pressed very closely together, and that ‘death’s head’ suggestion of his bones very strongly marked. Perhaps it was fanciful, but I thought that he looked like a knight of old who was going into battle and knew he was going to be killed. And again I felt what an extraordinary and quite unconscious power of attraction he had. We found Mr Mercado in the living-room. He was explaining the idea of some new process to Mrs Leidner. She was sitting on a straight wooden chair, embroidering flowers in fine silks, and I was struck anew by her strange, fragile, unearthly appearance. She looked a fairy creature more than flesh and blood. Mrs Mercado said, her voice high and shrill: ‘Oh, thereyou are, Joseph. We thought we’d find you in the lab.’ He jumped up looking startled and confused, as though her entrance had broken a spell. He said stammeringly: ‘I—I must go now. I’m in the middle of—the middle of—’ He didn’t complete the sentence but turned towards the door. Mrs Leidner said in her soft, drawling voice: ‘You must finish telling me some other time. It was very interesting.’ She looked up at us, smiled rather sweetly but in a far-away manner, and bent over her embroidery again. In a minute or two she said: ‘There are some books over there, nurse. We’ve got quite a good selection. Choose one and sit down.’ I went over to the bookshelf. Mrs Mercado stayed for a minute or two, then, turning abruptly, she went out. As she passed me I saw her face and I didn’t like the look of it. She looked wild with fury. In spite of myself I remembered some of the things Mrs Kelsey had said and hinted about Mrs Leidner. I didn’t like to think they were true because I liked Mrs Leidner, but I wondered, nevertheless, if there mightn’t perhaps be a grain of truth behind them. I didn’t think it was all her fault, but the fact remained that dear ugly Miss Johnson, and that common little spitfire Mrs Mercado, couldn’t hold a candle to her in looks or in attraction. And after all, men are men all over the world. You soon see a lot of that in my profession. Mercado was a poor fish, and I don’t suppose Mrs Leidner really cared two hoots for his admiration—but his wife cared. If I wasn’t mistaken, she minded badly and would be quite willing to do Mrs Leidner a bad turn if she could. I looked at Mrs Leidner sitting there and sewing at her pretty flowers, so remote and far away and aloof. I felt somehow I ought to warn her. I felt that perhaps she didn’t know how stupid and unreasoning and violent jealousy and hate can be—and how little it takes to set them smouldering. And then I said to myself, ‘Amy Leatheran, you’re a fool. Mrs Leidner’s no chicken. She’s close on forty if she’s a day, and she must know all about life there is to know.’ But I felt that all the same perhaps she didn’t. She had such a queer untouched look. I began to wonder what her life had been. I knew she’d only married Dr Leidner two years ago. And according to Mrs Mercado her first husband had died about fifteen years ago. I came and sat down near her with a book, and presently I went and washed my hands for supper. It was a good meal—some really excellent curry. They all went to bed early and I was glad, for I was tired. Dr Leidner came with me to my room to see I had all I wanted. He gave me a warm handclasp and said eagerly: ‘She likes you, nurse. She’s taken to you at once. I’m so glad. I feel everything’s going to be all right now.’ His eagerness was almost boyish. I felt, too, that Mrs Leidner had taken a liking to me, and I was pleased it should be so. But I didn’t quite share his confidence. I felt, somehow, that there was more to it all than he himself might know. There was something—something I couldn’t get at. But I felt it in the air. My bed was comfortable, but I didn’t sleep well for all that. I dreamt too much. The words of a poem by Keats, that I’d had to learn as a child, kept running through my head. I kept getting them wrong and it worried me. It was a poem I’d always hated—I suppose because I’d had to learn it whether I wanted to or not. But somehow when I woke up in the dark I saw a sort of beauty in it for the first time. ‘Oh say what ails thee, knight at arms, alone—and(what was it?)—palely loitering…? I saw the knight’s face in my mind for the first time—it was Mr Carey’s face—a grim, tense, bronzed face like some of those poor young men I remembered as a girl during the war…and I felt sorry for him—and then I fell off to sleep again and I saw that the Belle Dame sans Merci was Mrs Leidner and she was leaning sideways on a horse with an embroidery of flowers in her hands—and then the horse stumbled and everywhere there were bones coated in wax, and I woke up all goose-flesh and shivering, and told myself that curry never hadagreed with me at night. 第六章 第一天傍晚 6 茶点过后，雷德纳太太带我去看我的房间和到院子各处看看。 也许我最好在这里把房间的分配情形简短地说明一下。 这是非常简单的。如果参考那房子的平面图，就很容易明白。 在那个大的，没有门的柱廊两边都有门，通到两个主要的房间；右首的那个门通到餐厅，就是我们吃茶点的地方。另一边的门通到一间完全相似的房间（我称它为起居室），用作起居室和一种非正式的工作室——那就是说，一部分的图（有别于完全属于建筑方面的）都是在这里画的；比较易碎的陶片也是拿到那里拼合的。穿过起居室我们就来到古物室，所有发掘的古物都拿到这问房里，储藏在架子和架格子里，并且也摆在大长凳子和桌子上，古物室，除了穿过起居室，没有出口。 古物室的那一边，但是要由对着庭院的一个门才能通到，便是雷德纳太太的卧室。这间房，像那一边的其他房间一样，也有两个装了铁栅的窗户，俯视外面的耕过的田野。转弯过去，紧接着就是雷德纳博士的房间与雷德纳太太的房间是没有门可以相通的。这是东边房间的第一间。其次一间，就是要给我住的。紧接着就是詹森小姐的房间，再过去就是麦加多夫妇住的。然后就是两间所谓“浴室”。 这一边的房子都是雷德纳博士就原来的阿拉伯房子加建的。这一边的卧室千篇一律，都有一个对着庭院的门和窗。 北边的那排房间是绘图室、研究室和摄影室。 现在再回到那排柱廊。另外那一边的房间布局大部分相同。那里有餐厅通往办公室，档案就保存在那里，编目和打字工作都是在这里做的。和雷德纳太太的房间相当的那一间，是拉维尼神父的房间。他分配到最大的一间卧室。他也用这房间做翻译碑文的工作——不管你把这工作叫做什么。 在西南角上就是那个通到屋顶的楼梯。在西边首先是厨房区，然后是四间小卧室，归那几个年轻人用——贾雷、爱莫特、瑞特和柯尔曼。 在最北边的那一角是摄影室，通往外面的暗室。其次就是研究室）然后就是那个唯一的入口——就是我们进来的那个大拱门。外面是本地仆人的住处。士兵的警卫室、马厩，等等。 起居室在拱门的右边，占据北边其余的空间。 我在这里把这个房子的分配情形讲得相当详尽，因为我不打算以后再重讲了。 。 我已经说过，雷德纳太太亲自带我到各处走走，最后把我送到我的卧室。她说、希望我住得舒服，并且有我需要的样样东西。 那个房间布置得不错，就是太简陋——一张床、一个五斗橱、一个盥洗台和一把椅子。 “仆役会在午餐和晚餐之前给你拿热水来，当然，早上也会拿来。假若你在其他的时候需要热水，你就拍拍手，等仆役来的时候，你就说，‘吉布，迈，哈’（热水）。你会记得吗？” 我说我想会的，然后有些吞吞吐吐的重复一遍。 “对了，一定要说得大约这个腔调。阿拉伯人不懂得普通的英国腔调。” “语言是很奇怪的东西，”我说，“世界上有这许多不同的语言，似乎是很奇怪的事。” 雷德纳太太笑了。 “巴勒斯坦有一个教堂里面的祷告词是用各种不同语文写的——我想大概有九十种。” “啊，”我说，“我得写信把这个告诉我的老姑母；她对这种事，会很感兴趣。” 雷德纳太太茫然地用手拨弄着那个水罐和洗脸盆，并且粑那个肥皂盘子移动了一下。 “我真希望你在这里会很快乐，”她说，“不要觉得太无聊。” “我不会常常感到无聊的，”我说，“人生苦短，不会让你有时间感到无聊的。” 她没有回答，只是继续拨弄那个洗脸盆，仿佛心不在焉的样子。 突然之间，她那深紫罗兰色的眼睛死盯着我的面孔。 “护士小姐，我先生究竟告诉你些什么？” 对于这样的问话，我们通常都同样地回答。 “大概是说你身体有些不好之类的话，雷德纳太太，”我机灵地说，“并且说你需要一个人照顾，替你分分忧。” 她慢慢地、心事重重地低下头来。 “对了，”她说，“对了——这样就行了。” 她的话有一点儿不可解，但我不打算多问。我反而说：“我希望你会让我帮你做家里的任何事情。千万不要让我闲着。” 她微露笑容道：“谢谢，护士小姐。” 然后，她突然出我意料之外地坐在床上，开始相当密切地盘问我。这真使我出乎意料，因为，从我第一眼看到她的那一刻，我便可以确定她是一个端庄的女人。据我的经验，一个端庄的女人不会轻易对别人的私生活感到好奇。 但是雷德纳太太似乎是极想知道我的一切情形。她问我在哪里受护士训练，是在多久以前？我怎么会到东方来的？瑞利大夫怎么会介绍我来？她甚至于问我到过美国没有？在美国有没有亲戚：她还问我两三件事，当时觉得毫无意义。但是，到后来我才明白是很重要的。 然后，突然之间，她的态度变了。她面露微笑——那是一种充满热情、非常愉快的笑容——然后，她非常亲切地说，有我在这里照顾她，她就很安心了。 她从床上站起来说：“你想不想到屋顶看看日落的景色？大约在这个时候，是很美的。” 我很乐意地答应了。 我们走出房间时，她问：“你由巴格达来的时候，火车上还有许多别的乘客吗？有什么男的乘客吗？” 我说我没有特别注意到什么人。前天晚上餐车上有两个法国人，还有结伴乘车的三个人。从他们的谈话之中我可以猜想到他们的工作与输油管有关。 她点点头，然后禁不住发出一种轻微的声音，听起来仿佛是一声表示放宽心的、轻微的叹息。 我们一同走上屋顶。 麦加多太太在那里，她坐在屋顶边上的矮墙上，雷德纳博士正弯着腰画着摆在那里的一排排的石块和碎陶片。有儿件大的东西，他称为手推的磨，还有石杵、石凿和石斧。另外还有许多碎陶片，样子稀奇古侄，我从未见过有这么多。 “到这里来看，”麦加多太太叫道，“这不是太美、太美了吗？” 那实在是美丽的日落景色。远远地可以看见，背后有夕阳衬托的哈沙尼城，像是仙境一般。底格里斯河从两边宽阔的河岸中间流过，看起来不像是真实的，好像是梦中的河流。 “是不是很美啊？爱瑞克？”雷德纳太太说。 雷德纳博士心不在焉地抬头望望，低声地敷衍她说，“很美、很美！”然后就继续将小陶片分门别类地排列好。 雷德纳太太笑笑说：“干考古工作的人只看脚底下的东西，对他们来说，天空是不存在的，” 麦加多太太格格地笑了出来。 “啊，他们是很奇怪的。这个你不久就可以发现，护士小姐。”她说。然后，她停一下，又接着说：“你能来，我们都很高兴。我们都为亲爱的雷德纳太太非常担心，对不对，露伊思？” “真的吗？”她的声音听起来不大起劲儿。 “啊，是的。护士小姐。她近来的情形很坏，有各种各样大惊小怪的事，而且会跑到很远的地方去。你知道，要是有人对我谈到有人这样，我总是说，‘这只是神经作祟。不过，还有什么会更令人担心呢？’神经是一个人的精髓。对不对？” 我暗暗地想：你这个多事的女人！你这个多事的女人！ 雷德纳太太冷冷地说：“那么，玛丽，你就不必为我担心了。现在我有护士小姐照顾了。” “当然，我会的。”我愉快地说。 “我敢说那就不同了。”麦加多太太说，“我们都觉得她应该去看医生，或者找些什么事做。她的神经实在已经崩溃了。 是不是？亲爱的露伊思？” “害得你们似乎也为我心神不安了，”雷德纳太太说，“我们谈些比我的可怜的病状更有趣的事好吗？” 于是，我就明白，雷德纳太太是那种容易树敌的人。她说话的腔调冷冷的，很不客气（我并不是因此而责备她），因此，麦加多太太的略嫌憔悴的面颊变红了。她嗫嚅地说了一句话，但是雷德纳太太已经站起来，到屋顶另一边她丈夫那里。不知道他是否听到她在过去的声音，等到她拍拍他的肩膀时，他迅速地抬头一看。他的脸上有一种急切的、疑问之色。 雷德纳太太轻轻地点点头。不久，她就挽着他的胳臂，一同漫步到远远的矮墙那里，终于走下楼梯。 “他很爱她，是不是？”麦加多太太说。 “是的，”我说，“我觉得这是很好的现象。” 她露出一种奇怪的、有些急切的神气，由侧面望望我：“护士小姐，你以为她实在有什么毛病？” “啊，我想没什么大毛病，”我乐观地说，“我想，只是有些疲惫而已。” 她的两眼仍然像在吃茶点时一样地盯着我。然后，她突然问我：“你是神经科护士吗？”、 “啊，不是的！”我说，“你怎么这样想呢？” 她沉默片刻，然后说：“你知道她最近多怪吗？雷德纳博士没告诉你吗？” 我认为不该讲我的病人的闲话。在另一方面，根据我的经验，往往很难由病人亲戚的口中探听实情。在你知道实情以前，你往往是在暗中摸索，毫无结果。当然，要是有一位大夫主持，情形就不同了，大夫会把你必须知道的事告诉你，但是，对这个病人，并没有大夫在主持治疗。他们并没有正式请瑞利大夫诊治。据我自己揣测，我也不敢确定雷德纳博士是否已经将能告诉我的事都对我说了。病人的丈夫往往对他太太的实际情况三缄其口——我以为，在这方面，他就更值得尊敬。但是；没有关系，我知道得愈多，就愈晓得该采取什么途径。麦加多太太（此人我认为是一个非常狠毒、非常多嘴的女人）明明巴不得能说出来。坦白地说，就人情方面以及职业方面而论，确想听听她要说什么。你要以为我只是出于日常生活中常有的好奇心，也无不可。 、 我说：“我推测，雷德纳太太最近的举动，不像平常那样正常吧？” 麦加多太太令人讨厌地哈哈大笑。 “正常？才不呢。把我们都吓死了。有一夜，她看到有什么人的手指头在敲她的窗。然后又看到一只手，没有胳臂。但是，她又看见一个黄面孔紧贴在窗玻璃上——等到她跑到窗口就不见了。你说可怕不可怕？我们大家都吓得毛骨悚然。” “也许有人在捉弄她。”我提出一个解释。 “啊，不是的，都是她幻想出来的，只有三天以前，吃饭的时候，他们在村里打枪——差不多在一哩之外——她吓得跳起来，尖声大叫——我们大家都吓死了。至于雷德纳博士，他连忙跑到她那里，做出最可笑的举动。‘亲爱的，没什么事，一点儿也没事，’他连连地说，你知道，护士小姐，男人有时会鼓励女人有这样歇斯底里的幻想。这是一种遗憾，因为这是很坏的，妄想是不能鼓励的。 ” “要真是妄想，就不然了。”我冷冷地说。 “还会是其他的什么原因？” 我没有回答，因为我不知道该说什么、这是一件奇怪的事，枪声和尖叫声是很自然的——我是说对一个神经失常的人来说。但是看到鬼怪的面孔和手这个说法，就不同。我以为那不外是两个原因：不是雷德纳太太捏造出来的（和一个孩子为了使她自己成为大家注意的中心，便说一些根本没有的瞎话来夸耀的情形，丝毫不差），就是我方才说的，有人故意在捉弄她。我想，那是一个像柯尔曼先生那样毫无想象力、精神饱满的年轻人会以为有趣的事，我决定要密切地注意他。神经过敏的病人可能让一件无聊的、开玩笑的事吓得几乎会发疯。 麦加多太太斜着眼望望我说：“她的长相很罗曼蒂克，护士小姐，你以为是吗？她是那种会遭遇到一些怪事的女人。” “她遇到很多怪事吗？”我问。 “这个——她的前夫在她只有二十岁的时候阵亡了。我想那是很悲惨，很罗曼蒂克的事。你说是不是？” “这是把鹅称为天鹅的一种办法（即“言过其实”之意——译者注）。” “啊，护士小姐，这样说法多特别！” 这实在是很确切的说法。你往往听到许多女人说：“假若雷纳德——或者亚述——或者不管他叫什么——假若他只是活着就好了。”我有时候这样想：假若他真的仍然活着，也许已经变成一个肥胖的、毫不罗曼蒂克的、脾气很坏的中年丈夫。 天色渐渐黑了。我建议下去。麦加多太太同意，并且问我要不要去看看研究室，“我的先生会在那里——工作。” 我说我很想去看看，于是，我们就往那里走。那地方点着一盏灯，但是没有人。麦加多太太让我看几样用具，和正在处理的几件铜装饰品，也给我看一些涂上蜡的骨头。 “约瑟会到那里去呢？”麦加多太太自言自语地说。 她到绘图室去找，贾雷先生正在那里工作。我们走进去的时候，他几乎不曾抬头看看，等他抬头看到我们的时候，我感到他的脸上露出很不寻常的紧张神气。我突然想到：这个人已经到了不能再忍耐的程度。仿佛是一根弦，很快就要突然绷断了。于是，我想起另外一个人曾经注意到有同样的紧张情形。 我们走出来的时候，我再转回头去，最后再看他一下，他正埋头绘图。他的嘴唇紧紧地绷着，他的头骨特别令人联想到“死人脑袋”。这也许是一种空想，但是我以为他的样子像一个古代的骑士，正奔向沙场，而且他知道是会送命的。 我们在起居室找到麦加多先生。他正在向雷德纳太太说明一种处理陶片的新方法。她坐在一个直背的木椅上，在细缎子上绣花。于是，我又重新感觉到她那奇怪的、娇弱的、不食人间烟火的外表，特别引人注意。她的样子像一个仙女，而不像是血肉之躯。 麦加多太太的声音又尖又高地说：“啊，约瑟，你在这里，我们还以为你在研究室呢。” 他一跃而起，露出吃惊与慌乱的样子，仿佛她一来，便打断了一件事。他结结巴巴地说：“我——我现在得走了。我正在——正在——”他没把话说完，但是向门口转过身去。 雷德纳太太用她那温柔的、拖得长长的声音说：“改天你得给我说完，那是很有趣的。” 她抬头看到我们，颇为可爱的笑了笑，但是满脸心不在焉的神气，然后又低头继续刺绣；过一两分种，她说：”护士小姐，那一边有些书，我们的藏画还不少，挑一本坐下来看吧。” 我走过去，到书架前面。麦加多太太再停留一两分种，然后突一转身，便走了出去。她由我身边走过时，我看到她的面孔，我不喜欢她脸上的神气。她露出气得发狂的神态。 我不由得想起克尔西太太说过，并且暗示过，有关雷德纳太太的几件事。我不认为那是真的，因为我喜欢雷德纳太太；虽然如此，我想，不知道这背后是否有一点点是真实的。 我不认为全是她的错，但是事实上，那个亲爱的、其貌不扬的詹森小姐，和那个庸俗的、烈性的麦加多太太，不论在容貌上和吸引力上，都不能和她相比。而且，毕竟走遍全球，男人总是男人。干我这一行的人，不久就会看到很多这样的情形。 麦加多是个可怜人物，我以为雷德纳太太对于他的羡慕毫不在意——但是他的妻子却很在乎。假若我想得不错，她非常在乎，而且，如果可能，她会用很坏的手段对付她。 我望望雷德纳太太。她正坐在那里绣很美丽的花，那副神气，茫然、心不在焉，而且超然。我觉得应该想法子警告她。我觉得她也许不知道一个女人在妒忌的时候会变得多愚蠢、多不讲理、多凶暴——而且，这种妒火多么容易燃起！ 于是，我就对自己说：”爱咪•列瑟兰啊！你是个傻瓜！雷德纳太太并不是一个未经世事的女孩子，她已经快四十岁了，人生所有该知道的事她都知道了。” 但是，我想她也许仍然不知道。 她那无动于衷的神气。 我开始想：不知道她以前的生活情形如何。我知道她只有在两年前才嫁给雷德纳博士。照麦加多太太的说法，她的前夫差不多二十年前就去世了。 我拿一本书来坐在她的附近。不久，我就去洗手，准备用晚餐了。晚餐的菜很好——是一种实在很好吃的咖哩食品。他们都很早就回房休息，这样我很高兴，因为我已经很累了。 雷德纳博士陪我到我的房间去看看我是否还缺什么需要的东西。 他热烈地同我握手，并且热诚地说：“护士小姐，她喜欢你，她一见你立刻就喜欢你了。我很高兴，我觉得现在一切都没事了。” 他的热诚样子几乎像个孩子似的。 我也觉得雷德纳太太已经喜欢我。这种情形，我觉得愉快。 但是我不像他那样有信心，不知为什么，我总觉得，这一切比他可能知道的更多。 有点什么问题——一种我不能了解的问题。但是，我想象中它是存在的。 我的床非常舒适。但是，我仍然睡得不舒服，我梦到许多事。 济慈的一首诗里的句子——那是我儿时不得不读的一首诗——在我的脑子里不断出现，我总是记错，因此很不安心。 那是我从前总觉得讨厌的一首诗——我想那是因为不管我想不想读，一定得读的。但是，当我在黑夜里醒来的时候，不知为什么，我第一次发现到那诗句有一种美。 “啊，骑士，告诉我，你有何苦恼？独自——下面是什么？——面色苍白的，独自徘徊——”我第一次想象到那骑士的面孔——那是贾雷先生的面孔——一种坚强、青铜色的面孔，好像我少女时代世界大战时看到的那些年轻人。想到这里，我很替他难过——然后，我又睡着，梦中看到那个“无情美女”就是雷德纳太太，她的手里拿着她的绣花布，斜靠在马背上——后来马失前蹄，地下到处都是有蜡皮的骨头。于是，我就醒了，吓得混身鸡皮疙瘩，抖个不停。我想咖哩食物我不适应，吃了以后夜里会感到不舒服。 Chapter 7 The Man at the Window Chapter 7 The Man at the Window I think I’d better make it clear right away that there isn’t going to be any local colour in this story. I don’t know anything about archaeology and I don’t know that I very much want to. Messing about with people and places that are buried and done with doesn’t make sense to me. Mr Carey used to tell me that I hadn’t got the archaeological temperament and I’ve no doubt he was quite right. The very first morning after my arrival Mr Carey asked if I’d like to come and see the palace he was—planningI think he called it. Though how you can plan for a thing that’s happened long ago I’m sure I don’t know! Well, I said I’d like to, and to tell the truth, I was a bit excited about it. Nearly three thousand years old that palace was, it appeared. I wondered what sort of palaces they had in those days, and if it would be like the pictures I’d seen of Tutankahmen’s tomb furniture. But would you believe it, there was nothing to see but mud! Dirty mud walls about two feet high—and that’s all there was to it. Mr Carey took me here and there telling me things—how this was the great court, and there were some chambers here and an upper storey and various other rooms that opened off the central court. And all I thought was, ‘But how does he know?’ though, of course, I was too polite to say so. I can tell you it wasa disappointment! The whole excavation looked like nothing but mud to me—no marble or gold or anything handsome—my aunt’s house in Cricklewood would have made a much more imposing ruin! And those old Assyrians, or whatever they were, called themselves kings. When Mr Carey had shown me his old ‘palaces’, he handed me over to Father Lavigny, who showed me the rest of the mound. I was a little afraid of Father Lavigny, being a monk and a foreigner and having such a deep voice and all that, but he was very kind—though rather vague. Sometimes I felt it wasn’t much more real to him than it was to me. Mrs Leidner explained that later. She said that Father Lavigny was only interested in ‘written documents’—as she called them. They wrote everything on clay, these people, queer, heathenish-looking marks too, but quite sensible. There were even school tablets—the teacher’s lesson on one side and the pupil’s effort on the back of it. I confess that that did interest me rather—it seemed so human, if you know what I mean. Father Lavigny walked round the work with me and showed me what were temples or palaces and what were private houses, and also a place which he said was an early Akkadian cemetery. He spoke in a funny jerky way, just throwing in a scrap of information and then reverting to other subjects. He said: ‘It is strange that you have come here. Is Mrs Leidner really ill, then?’ ‘Not exactly ill,’ I said cautiously. He said: ‘She is an odd woman. A dangerous woman, I think.’ ‘Now what do you mean by that?’ I said. ‘Dangerous? How dangerous?’ He shook his head thoughtfully. ‘I think she is ruthless,’ he said. ‘Yes, I think she could be absolutely ruthless.’ ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ I said, ‘I think you’re talking nonsense.’ He shook his head. ‘You do not know women as I do,’ he said. And that was a funny thing, I thought, for a monk to say. But of course I suppose he might have heard a lot of things in confession. But that rather puzzled me, because I wasn’t sure if monks heard confessions or if it was only priests. I supposed he wasa monk with that long woollen robe—all sweeping up the dirt—and the rosary and all! ‘Yes, she could be ruthless,’ he said musingly. ‘I am quite sure of that. And yet—though she is so hard—like stone, like marble—yet she is afraid. What is she afraid of?’ That, I thought, is what we should all like to know! At least it was possible that her husband did know, but I didn’t think anyone else did. He fixed me with a sudden bright, dark eye. ‘It is odd here? You find it odd? Or quite natural?’ ‘Not quite natural,’ I said, considering. ‘It’s comfortable enough as far as the arrangements go—but there isn’t quite a comfortable feeling.’ ‘It makes meuncomfortable. I have the idea’—he became suddenly a little more foreign—‘that something prepares itself. Dr Leidner, too, he is not quite himself. Something is worrying him also.’ ‘His wife’s health?’ ‘That perhaps. But there is more. There is—how shall I say it—an uneasiness.’ And that was just it, there was an uneasiness. We didn’t say any more just then, for Dr Leidner came towards us. He showed me a child’s grave that had just been uncovered. Rather pathetic it was—the little bones—and a pot or two and some little specks that Dr Leidner told me were a bead necklace. It was the workmen that made me laugh. You never saw such a lot of scarecrows—all in long petticoats and rags, and their heads tied up as though they had toothache. And every now and then, as they went to and fro carrying away baskets of earth, they began to sing—at least I suppose it was meant to be singing—a queer sort of monotonous chant that went on and on over and over again. I noticed that most of their eyes were terrible—all covered with discharge, and one or two looked half blind. I was just thinking what a miserable lot they were when Dr Leidner said, ‘Rather a fine-looking lot of men, aren’t they?’ and I thought what a queer world it was and how two different people could see the same thing each of them the other way round. I haven’t put that very well, but you can guess what I mean. After a bit Dr Leidner said he was going back to the house for a mid-morning cup of tea. So he and I walked back together and he told me things. When heexplained, it was all quite different. I sort of sawit all—how it used to be—the streets and the houses, and he showed me ovens where they baked bread and said the Arabs used much the same kind of ovens nowadays. We got back to the house and found Mrs Leidner had got up. She was looking better today, not so thin and worn. Tea came in almost at once and Dr Leidner told her what had turned up during the morning on the dig. Then he went back to work and Mrs Leidner asked me if I would like to see some of the finds they had made up to date. Of course I said ‘Yes,’ so she took me through into the antika-room. There was a lot of stuff lying about—mostly broken pots it seemed to me—or else ones that were all mended and stuck together. The whole lot might have been thrown away, I thought. ‘Dear, dear,’ I said, ‘it’s a pity they’re all so broken, isn’t it? Are they really worth keeping?’ Mrs Leidner smiled a little and she said: ‘You mustn’t let Eric hear you. Pots interest him more than anything else, and some of these are the oldest things we have—perhaps as much as seven thousand years old.’ And she explained how some of them came from a very deep cut on the mound down towards the bottom, and how, thousands of years ago, they had been broken and mended with bitumen, showing people prized their things just as much then as they do nowadays. ‘And now,’ she said, ‘we’ll show you something more exciting.’ And she took down a box from the shelf and showed me a beautiful gold dagger with dark-blue stones in the handle I exclaimed with pleasure. Mrs Leidner laughed. ‘Yes, everybody likes gold! Except my husband.’ ‘Why doesn’t Dr Leidner like it?’ ‘Well, for one thing it comes expensive. You have to pay the workmen who find it the weight of the object in gold.’ ‘Good gracious!’ I exclaimed. ‘But why?’ ‘Oh, it’s a custom. For one thing it prevents them from stealing. You see, if they didsteal, it wouldn’t be for the archaeological value but for the intrinsic value. They could melt it down. So we make it easy for them to be honest.’ She took down another tray and showed me a really beautiful gold drinking-cup with a design of rams’ heads on it. Again I exclaimed. ‘Yes, it is beautiful, isn’t it? These came from a prince’s grave. We found other royal graves but most of them had been plundered. This cup is our best find. It is one of the most lovely ever found anywhere. Early Akkadian. Unique.’ Suddenly, with a frown, Mrs Leidner brought the cup up close to her eyes and scratched at it delicately with her nail. ‘How extraordinary! There’s actually wax on it. Someone must have been in here with a candle.’ She detached the little flake and replaced the cup in its place. After that she showed me some queer little terra-cotta figurines—but most of them were just rude. Nasty minds those old people had, I say. When we went back to the porch Mrs Mercado was sitting polishing her nails. She was holding them out in front of her admiring the effect. I thought myself that anything more hideous than that orange red could hardly have been imagined. Mrs Leidner had brought with her from the antika-room a very delicate little saucer broken in several pieces, and this she now proceeded to join together. I watched her for a minute or two and then asked if I could help. ‘Oh, yes, there are plenty more.’ She fetched quite a supply of broken pottery and we set to work. I soon got into the hang of it and she praised my ability. I suppose most nurses are handy with their fingers. ‘How busy everybody is!’ said Mrs Mercado. ‘It makes me feel dreadfully idle. Of course I amidle.’ ‘Why shouldn’t you be if you like?’ said Mrs Leidner. Her voice was quite uninterested. At twelve we had lunch. Afterwards Dr Leidner and Mr Mercado cleaned some pottery, pouring a solution of hydrochloric acid over it. One pot went a lovely plum colour and a pattern of bulls’ horns came out on another one. It was really quite magical. All the dried mud that no washing would remove sort of foamed and boiled away. Mr Carey and Mr Coleman went out on the dig and Mr Reiter went off to the photographic-room. ‘What will you do, Louise?’ Dr Leidner asked his wife. ‘I suppose you’ll rest for a bit?’ I gathered that Mrs Leidner usually lay down every afternoon. ‘I’ll rest for about an hour. Then perhaps I’ll go out for a short stroll.’ ‘Good. Nurse will go with you, won’t you?’ ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘No, no,’ said Mrs Leidner, ‘I like going alone. Nurse isn’t to feel so much on duty that I’m not allowed out of her sight.’ ‘Oh, but I’d like to come,’ I said. ‘No, really, I’d rather you didn’t.’ She was quite firm—almost peremptory. ‘I must be by myself every now and then. It’s necessary to me.’ I didn’t insist, of course. But as I went off for a short sleep myself it struck me as odd that Mrs Leidner, with her nervous terrors, should be quite content to walk by herself without any kind of protection. When I came out of my room at half-past three the courtyard was deserted save for a little boy with a large copper bath who was washing pottery, and Mr Emmott, who was sorting and arranging it. As I went towards them Mrs Leidner came in through the archway. She looked more alive than I had seen her yet. Her eyes shone and she looked uplifted and almost gay. Dr Leidner came out from the laboratory and joined her. He was showing her a big dish with bulls’ horns on it. ‘The prehistoric levels are being extraordinarily productive,’ he said. ‘It’s been a good season so far. Finding that tomb right at the beginning was a real piece of luck. The only person who might complain is Father Lavigny. We’ve had hardly any tablets so far.’ ‘He doesn’t seem to have done very much with the few we have had,’ said Mrs Leidner dryly. ‘He may be a very fine epigraphist but he’s a remarkably lazy one. He spends all his afternoons sleeping.’ ‘We miss Byrd,’ said Dr Leidner. ‘This man strikes me as slightly unorthodox—though, of course, I’m not competent to judge. But one or two of his translations have been surprising, to say the least of it. I can hardly believe, for instance, that he’s right about that inscribed brick, and yet he must know.’ After tea Mrs Leidner asked me if I would like to stroll down to the river. I thought that perhaps she feared that her refusal to let me accompany her earlier in the afternoon might have hurt my feelings. I wanted her to know that I wasn’t the touchy kind, so I accepted at once. It was a lovely evening. A path led between barley fields and then through some flowering fruit trees. Finally we came to the edge of the Tigris. Immediately on our left was the Tell with the workmen singing in their queer monotonous chant. A little to our right was a big water-wheel which made a queer groaning noise. It used to set my teeth on edge at first. But in the end I got fond of it and it had a queer soothing effect on me. Beyond the water-wheel was the village from which most of the workmen came. ‘It’s rather beautiful, isn’t it?’ said Mrs Leidner. ‘It’s very peaceful,’ I said. ‘It seems funny to me to be so far away from everywhere.’ ‘Far from everywhere,’ repeated Mrs Leidner. ‘Yes. Here at least one might expect to be safe.’ I glanced at her sharply, but I think she was speaking more to herself than to me, and I don’t think she realized that her words had been revealing. We began to walk back to the house. Suddenly Mrs Leidner clutched my arm so violently that I nearly cried out. ‘Who’s that, nurse? What’s he doing?’ Some distance ahead of us, just where the path ran near the expedition house, a man was standing. He wore European clothes and he seemed to be standing on tiptoe and trying to look in at one of the windows. As we watched he glanced round, caught sight of us, and immediately continued on the path towards us. I felt Mrs Leidner’s clutch tighten. ‘Nurse,’ she whispered. ‘Nurse…’ ‘It’s all right, my dear, it’s all right,’ I said reassuringly. The man came along and passed us. He was an Iraqi, and as soon as she saw him near to, Mrs Leidner relaxed with a sigh. ‘He’s only an Iraqi after all,’ she said. We went on our way. I glanced up at the windows as I passed. Not only were they barred, but they were too high from the ground to permit of anyone seeing in, for the level of the ground was lower here than on the inside of the courtyard. ‘It must have been just curiosity,’ I said. Mrs Leidner nodded. ‘That’s all. But just for a minute I thought—’ She broke off. I thought to myself. ‘You thought what? That’s what I’d like to know. Whatdid you think?’ But I knew one thing now—that Mrs Leidner was afraid of a definite flesh-and-blood person. 第七章 窗户旁边的人 7 我想我得马上声明，这个故事里没有地方色彩。我对于考古学一窍不通，而且我也不知道我是否会很想了解一下。我以为与埋在地下，已经死去的人和地方搞在一起，是毫无意义的。贾雷先生说我没有考古的气质，毫无疑问，他说得对。 就在我到达的第一天，贾雷先生就问我是否想去看看他正在——我想他是称为“设计’’的那个宫殿。不过，怎么设计一件许久以前就有的东西，我的确是不明白的。于是，我就说我很想看看。说实话，关于这件事，我感到很兴奋，那个官殿好像差不多有三千年那么古老了。不知道在那个时候他们有什么样的宫殿，是否是像我看到过的埃及王杜唐卡门（公元前十四世纪埃及王，其墓于一九二二年发现——译者注）墓中的家具。但是，你会相信吗？滁了泥之外、没什么东酋好看。肮脏的泥土人行道，大约二尺高——就是这个！贾雷先生带我到各处去看，并且给我讲一些话——这是那个广大的朝廷；这里有一些寝宫，还有一层楼，以及各种其他的房间，可以通到中央的朝廷。我所想到的只有：他怎么会知道？不过，当然啦，我很客气，不便这样说。我可以告诉你，这实在是令人失望的事！在我看来，这整个的挖掘物看样子不过是泥士而已——没有大理石，或者黄金，或者什么好看的东西——我姑母在克瑞寇乌德的房子如果成为废墟，也许会堂皇得多！还有那些古老的亚述人，或者那些不管他们自称为什么的人，大概是“王”。当贾雷先生带我看过他的古“宫殿”之后，就把我交给拉维尼神父。 他又带我去看古丘的其余各处，我有些怕拉维尼神父。因为他是修道士，又是外国人，而且声音低沉等等。但是他是很亲切的——不过有点含含糊糊的样子。有时我觉得到那个古丘在我看来比他看来更真实。 雷德纳太太后来解释说，拉维尼神父只对“写的文书”感兴趣——这是她的叫法，他们样样事都写在泥版上。这些人，都有奇特的异教徒的标记，但是很聪明。甚至于还有一些学校里用的泥版——老师指定的功课刻在一面，学生做的答案刻在背后。我承认这些我倒颇感兴趣——这似乎是很有人情味，不知道你是否明白我的意思。 拉维尼神父同我走过工地各处，指给我看什么是庙宇或是宫殿，什么是私人住宅，还有一个地方他说是早期阿卡狄亚的坟墓。他讲话的方式很有趣，忽而心血来潮讲到东，忽而讲到西，只是插进一点资料，然后变到其他的话题。 “你会到这里来；真奇怪。那么，雷德纳太太真的病了吗？” “也不完全是病了，”我小心翼翼地说。 他说：“她是个很奇怪的人，我想是一个危险人物。” “你说这话是什么意思？”我说，“危险？如何危险？” 他若有所思地摇摇头。 “我想她是冷酷无情的。”他说，“是的，我想她可能会非常冷酷无情。” “请原谅我，”我说，“我想你是在胡说八道。” 他摇摇头。 “你没有我这样了解女人。”他说。 我想，一个修道士会说出这么可笑的话，也许是在“告诫”时听到许多有关女人的事的缘故，但是，这我也觉得有些不解，因为，我不敢确定是修道士听“告诫”呢，或者只是教士才听“告诫”。我想他穿那么长长的袍子——长得拖地，还有念珠等等——一定是修道士！ “是的，她可能会冷酷无情的，”他思索着说，“这一点我确信无疑，可是——她虽然如此硬心肠——像石头一样，像大理石一样硬——然而，她又害怕。她害怕什么呀！” 我想，那就是我们大家都想知道的。 至少，很可能她的丈夫已经知道了，但是，我以为其他的人没一个会知道。 他那亮亮的褐眼睛忽然盯着我。 “这里很奇怪是不是？，你觉得奇怪么？或者以为很自然？” “不很自然，”我考虑了一下说，“就这里的一切安排来说。 够舒服了，但是，一个人不会有十分舒服的感觉。” “这里的情形使我很不安，我有一种感觉”——他突然变得有些更像外国人了——“我觉得有件事在慢慢地酝酿。雷德纳博士，他也不十分自在，他也在担心一件事。” “担心他妻子的健康吗？” “那也许。但是，还不止此，他有一种——我该怎么说呢？——一种不安的感觉。” 正是如此，有一种不安的感觉。 我们没有再多说什么，因为就在那时候雷德纳博士朝我们这方向走过来。他带我去看一个刚挖出的小孩坟墓，这是颇为悲惨的——那一块一块的小骨头一还有一两个罐子，以及一些小粒子，雷德纳博士对我说那是一个珠子项链。 使我好笑的是那些工人，你从来不会看到这样多衣衫褴褛的人——都穿着长的裙子和破烂的衣服。他们的头都用布绑着，仿佛有牙痛的毛病。当他们来回地搬运一篮一篮的泥土时，就开始唱起来——至少我想那是在唱歌——那是一种奇怪的、单调的、一再重复的歌。我注意到他们的眼睛大多很可怕——尽是眼屎，而且有一两个人差不多快瞎了。我正在想那些人多么可怜，这时候雷德纳博士说：“一些样子相当好看的人，是不是？”于是，我就想，这是一个多么奇怪的世界。两个不同的人对同一件事的看法怎么会正相反。我的意思说得不太明白，但是你可以猜想到我的意思。 过了片刻，雷德纳博士说，他要回去了，因为他经常在上午十点左右要喝点茶，所以我和他就一同走回来，一路上他对我谈了一些有关考古的事。我有点明白昔日这里的情形了——那些街道和房屋以前如何如何。他还指给我看他们发掘出来的以前焙面包用的烤箱，并且说阿拉伯人现今用的烤箱和当时用的是一样的。 我们回到家时，雷德纳太太已经起床。她今天的气色比较好些，显得不那么瘦削、疲倦了。茶几乎立刻就端过来了。于是，雷德纳博士就告诉她早上在挖掘场挖出些什么、然后他就回去工作了。雷德纳太太问我想不想看看他们最新发掘出来的东西。我当然说要看，因此她就带我到古物室。那里摆了许多东西——在我看来大多是些破罐的碎片，或者是完全修复，粘在一起的罐子。我想如果不注意，这一切都很可能被扔掉。 “哎呀！哎呀！”我说，“真可惜，都这么破碎不堪，是不是，这些东西真的值得保存吗？” 雷德纳太大笑了说：“你可不要让爱瑞克听到你这些话，罐子比其他任何东西都引起他更大的兴趣。这些东西有的是我们所有的最古老的东西——也许有七千年那么老了。”于是，她就对我说明有的是在快要挖到底的地方发掘出来的。在几千年前，这些东西曾经破碎过，后来用沥青修补过。这就显示出当时的人对于他们用的东西像如今一样的珍惜。 “现在，”她说，“我再给你看一件更令人兴奋的东西。” 她由架上取下一个匣子，给我看一个美丽的金匕首，柄上镶有深蓝色的宝石。 我高兴得叫了出来。 雷德纳太太哈哈大笑。 “是的，人人都喜欢金子！除了我的先生。” “雷德纳博士为什么不喜欢？” “啊，首先，很费钱。那个发现一件金器皿的工人，你得付给他同那东西一样重的金子作为报酬，’” “哎呀呀！”我叫道，“但是为什么呢？” “哦，那是这里的习俗，原因之一就是这样可以避免他们偷窃。你要明白，假若他们真的偷了去，那不是因为那东西在考古方面有价值，而是因为金子本身有价值，他们会把它融化了。这样的报酬可以使他们诚实无欺。” 她又取下另一个盘子，给我看一个实在很美丽的金酒杯，上面有公羊头的图样。 我又高兴得叫了出来。 “是的，这个东西很美，是不是？这些古物是从一个王子的墓里发掘到的。我们还发现其他的皇族坟墓，但是十之八九都让人盗光了。这个杯子是我们最好的发掘物，这是阿卡狄安早期的用品，是独一无二的精品！” 雷德纳太大突然皱皱眉，把那杯子拿得离眼睛近些，轻轻用手指甲搔一搔。 “多么特别！上面真的会有蜡烛油，当时想必是有人在这里，端着一个蜡烛台。” 她把那层蜡油弄掉，然后将杯子放回原处。 后来她又让我看几个很奇怪的、红陶制的小人——但是，大多很粗俗。哎呀，古人的头脑怎么会这样庸俗。 当我们回到门廊的时候，麦加多太太正坐在那里擦手指甲。她将手举到面前，正在赞美自己擦得漂亮。我暗想，还有什么比那种橘红色更讨厌的颜色，实在难以想象。 雷德纳太太由古物室带来一个碎成几片的、很精致的小茶杯碟子。现在，她着手将那些碎片粘起来。我在一旁看了一两分种，然后就问我是否可以帮忙。 “啊，好的，还有很多呢。”她去拿不少碎陶片，于是，我们就开始工作。我不久就粗通此道，她颇称赞我的能力。我想做护士的，十之八九，都有灵巧的手。 、 “大家都多么忙，”麦加多太太说，“这样就使我感到太闲，当然，我的确是闲的。” “你要喜欢闲着，又有什么不可以呢？”雷德纳太太说。 她的声音显得非常厌烦。 十二点钟，我们用午餐。午餐后，雷德纳博士和麦加多先生清洗一些陶器，在上面倒些盐酸溶剂。有一个罐子变成可爱的青梅色。另外一个上面现出一个公牛角的图样。那实在是非常不可思议的，那些用水洗不掉的干泥巴，倒上盐酸之后，起一层泡沫，统统烧掉了。 贾雷先生和柯尔曼先生出去，到挖掘场去了。瑞特先生到摄影室去。 “你要做什么，露伊思？”雷德纳博士问他太太，“我想你要休息一下吧？” 我推测雷德纳太太每到下午通常都要躺一下。 “我要休息大约一小时；然后也许出去散散步。” “好。护士小姐会陪你去，好不好？” “当然。”我说。 “不，不，”雷德纳太太说，“我单独去散步。不要让护士小姐感觉到她的任务这么多，以致于一刻也不能看不见我。” “啊，但是，我却喜欢去。”我说。 “其实不要啦，我想你最好不要去。”她很坚决——几乎是断然的，“我偶尔也要单独活动一下。这对我是必要的。” 当然，我就不再坚持。但是，当我自己也去稍许休息休息的时候，我觉得很奇怪，因为，雷德纳太太既然有那种神经过敏的恐怖感，她竟然会安心地单独去散步，没有任何人保护！ 三点半钟，我由我房里出来的时候，庭院里冷清清的，只有一个小男孩在一个大浴盆里洗陶器。还有爱莫特先生在分门别类地整理着，当我朝他们那里走过去的时候，雷德纳太太由拱门里走进来。她显得比我先前看到的更加生气勃勃。她的眼睛发亮，显得精神抖擞，似乎很快乐的样子。 雷德纳博士由研究室出来迎她。他给她看一个大盘子，上面有公牛角的图样。 “史前的几层发掘出的东西特别多，”他说，“到现在为止，这可以说是一个很好的挖掘期。一开始就发现到那座坟墓实在是运气太好了。唯一可能抱怨的就是拉维尼神父。到目前为止，我们几乎没发现什么石碑。” “我们已经有的一点点碑铭，他研究出来的似乎并不多，”雷德纳太太冷冷地说，“他也许是一个碑铭专家，但是，却是一个特别懒的人，整个下午的时间都给他睡掉了。” “我们很想念比尔德，”雷德纳博士说，“我感到这个人有一点不照正统的方式行事——不过，当然，我也没有判断他的能力。但是他翻译的一两个碑铭，至少是很惊人的，譬如，我几乎不相信他翻译的那个砖上的铭文是正确的。可是，他一定知道自己是正确的。” 午茶过后，雷德纳大太问我喜欢不喜欢陪她到河边走走。 我想也许她恐怕方才拒绝我陪她那件事会使我不痛快。 我想让她知道我并不是那种因为芝麻大的事情就不痛快的人，所以我就答应了。 那是一个可爱的黄昏、穿过大麦田之间的一条小径，然后再穿过一些正在开花的村；最后，我们来到底格里斯河边。那个古物发掘场就在我们左边。工人们正唱着那种乏味的怪调子。我们右边不远的地方有一个大的水车轮发出一种奇怪的、像呻吟似的声音。最初那种声音使我听了很烦躁。但是到丰了，我变得很喜欢听了，因为那声音使我感到有一种奇怪的、镇定神经的效果。在水车轮的那一边，就是那些工人居住的村子。 “这里相当美，是不是？”雷德纳太太说。 “非常安静，”我说，“到了这样离什么地方都很远的地方、我觉得似乎很有趣。” “离什么地方都很远：”雷德纳太太照我的说法再说一遍，——是的，在这里，至少可以很安全。” 我突然瞥了她一眼，但是，我想她与其是对我说话，不如说是自言自语。我以为她并没有发现她的话已经透露一些意思了。 我们开始走回家去。 雷德纳太太突然用力抓住我的胳膊，害得我几乎叫了出来。 “护士小姐，那是什么、他在做什么？” 在我们前面不远的地方，就是那条小径快到考察团房舍的地方，一个男人正站在那里。他穿着欧洲人穿的衣服，似乎在蹑着脚，想要往一个窗里探望。 当我们望过去的时候，他看到我们，然后，马上继续顺着小路往我们这方向走过来。我感觉到雷德纳太太抓得更紧。 “护士小姐，”她低声叫，“护士小姐！” “没事，我亲爱的，没事！”我使她安心地说。 那个男人走过来，由我们身旁走过。他是一个伊拉克人。 她一看到他走得近些，就安心地叹了一口气。 “原来，只是一个伊拉克人。”她说。 我们继续往前走。我们走过去的时候，我望望上面的那些窗子。那些窗子不但装有铁条，而且离地很高，所以任何人都看不到里面，因为这里的地面比庭院里的地面低。 “那也许只是出于好奇。”我说。 雷德纳太太点点头。 “就是这样。但是，只是片刻之间，我还以为——” 她的话突然中断了。 我暗想：“你以为什么？那就是我要知道的。你以为什么？” 但是，我如今知道一件事——雷德纳太太害怕的是个有血有肉的人。 Chapter 8 Night Alarm Chapter 8 Night Alarm It’s a little difficult to know exactly what to note in the week that followed my arrival at Tell Yarimjah. Looking back as I do from my present standpoint of knowledge I can see a good many little signs and indications that I was quite blind to at the time. To tell the story properly, however, I think I ought to try to recapture the point of view that I actually held—puzzled, uneasy and increasingly conscious of somethingwrong. For one thing wascertain, that curious sense of strain and constraint was notimagined. It was genuine. Even Bill Coleman the insensitive commented upon it. ‘This place gets under my skin,’ I heard him say. ‘Are they always such a glum lot?’ It was David Emmott to whom he spoke, the other assistant. I had taken rather a fancy to Mr Emmott, his taciturnity was not, I felt sure, unfriendly. There was something about him that seemed very steadfast and reassuring in an atmosphere where one was uncertain what anyone was feeling or thinking. ‘No,’ he said in answer to Mr Coleman. ‘It wasn’t like this last year.’ But he didn’t enlarge on the theme, or say any more. ‘What I can’t make out is what it’s all about,’ said Mr Coleman in an aggrieved voice. Emmott shrugged his shoulders but didn’t answer. I had a rather enlightening conversation with Miss Johnson. I liked her very much. She was capable, practical and intelligent. She had, it was quite obvious, a distinct hero worship for Dr Leidner. On this occasion she told me the story of his life since his young days. She knew every site he had dug, and the results of the dig. I would almost dare swear she could quote from every lecture he had ever delivered. She considered him, she told me, quite the finest field archaeologist living. ‘And he’s so simple. So completely unworldly. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word conceit. Only a really great man could be so simple.’ ‘That’s true enough,’ I said. ‘Big people don’t need to throw their weight about.’ ‘And he’s so light-hearted too, I can’t tell you what fun we used to have—he and Richard Carey and I—the first years we were out here. We were such a happy party. Richard Carey worked with him in Palestine, of course. Theirs is a friendship of ten years or so. Oh, well, I’ve known him for seven.’ ‘What a handsome man Mr Carey is,’ I said. ‘Yes—I suppose he is.’ She said it rather curtly. ‘But he’s just a little bit quiet, don’t you think?’ ‘He usedn’t to be like that,’ said Miss Johnson quickly. ‘It’s only since—’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Only since—?’ I prompted. ‘Oh, well.’ Miss Johnson gave a characteristic motion of her shoulders. ‘A good many things are changed nowadays.’ I didn’t answer. I hoped she would go on—and she did—prefacing her remarks with a little laugh as though to detract from their importance. ‘I’m afraid I’m rather a conservative old fogy. I sometimes think that if an archaeologist’s wife isn’t really interested, it would be wiser for her not to accompany the expedition. It often leads to friction.’ ‘Mrs Mercado—’ I suggested. ‘Oh, her!’ Miss Johnson brushed the suggestion aside. ‘I was really thinking of Mrs Leidner. She’s a very charming woman—and one can quite understand why Dr Leidner “fell for her”—to use a slang term. But I can’t help feeling she’s out of place here. She—it unsettles things.’ So Miss Johnson agreed with Mrs Kelsey that it was Mrs Leidner who was responsible for the strained atmosphere. But then where did Mrs Leidner’s own nervous fears come in? ‘It unsettles him,’ said Miss Johnson earnestly. ‘Of course I’m—well, I’m like a faithful but jealous old dog. I don’t like to see him so worn out and worried. His whole mind ought to be on the work—not taken up with his wife and her silly fears! If she’s nervous of coming to out-of-the-way places, she ought to have stayed in America. I’ve no patience with people who come to a place and then do nothing but grouse about it!’ And then, a little fearful of having said more than she meant to say, she went on: ‘Of course I admire her very much. She’s a lovely woman and she’s got great charm of manner when she chooses.’ And there the subject dropped. I thought to myself that it was always the same way—wherever women are cooped up together, there’s bound to be jealousy. Miss Johnson clearly didn’t like her chief ’s wife (that was perhaps natural) and unless I was much mistaken Mrs Mercado fairly hated her. Another person who didn’t like Mrs Leidner was Sheila Reilly. She came out once or twice to the dig, once in a car and twice with some young man on a horse—on two horses I mean, of course. It was at the back of my mind that she had a weakness for the silent young American, Emmott. When he was on duty at the dig she used to stay talking to him, and I thought, too, that headmired her One day, rather injudiciously, I thought, Mrs Leidner commented upon it at lunch. ‘The Reilly girl is still hunting David down,’ she said with a little laugh. ‘Poor David, she chases you up on the dig even! How foolish girls are!’ Mr Emmott didn’t answer, but under his tan his face got rather red. He raised his eyes and looked right into hers with a very curious expression—a straight, steady glance with something of a challenge in it. She smiled very faintly and looked away. I heard Father Lavigny murmur something, but when I said ‘Pardon?’ he merely shook his head and did not repeat his remark. That afternoon Mr Coleman said to me: ‘Matter of fact I didn’t like Mrs L. any too much at first. She used to jump down my throat every time I opened my mouth. But I’ve begun to understand her better now. She’s one of the kindest women I’ve ever met. You find yourself telling her all the foolish scrapes you ever got into before you know where you are. She’s got her knife into Sheila Reilly, I know, but then Sheila’s been damned rude to her once or twice. That’s the worst of Sheila—she’s got no manners. And a temper like the devil!’ That I could well believe. Dr Reilly spoilt her. ‘Of course she’s bound to get a bit full of herself, being the only young woman in the place. But that doesn’t excuse her talking to Mrs Leidner as though Mrs Leidner were her great-aunt. Mrs L.’s not exactly a chicken, but she’s a damned good-looking woman. Rather like those fairy women who come out of marshes with lights and lure you away.’ He added bitterly, ‘You wouldn’t find Sheila luring anyone. All she does is to tick a fellow off.’ I only remember two other incidents of any kind of significance. One was when I went to the laboratory to fetch some acetone to get the stickiness off my fingers from mending the pottery. Mr Mercado was sitting in a corner, his head was laid down on his arms and I fancied he was asleep. I took the bottle I wanted and went off with it. That evening, to my great surprise, Mrs Mercado tackled me. ‘Did you take a bottle of acetone from the lab?’ ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I did.’ ‘You know perfectly well that there’s a small bottle always kept in the antika-room.’ She spoke quite angrily. ‘Is there? I didn’t know.’ ‘I think you did! You just wanted to come spying round. I know what hospital nurses are.’ I stared at her. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs Mercado,’ I said with dignity. ‘I’m sure I don’t want to spy on anyone.’ ‘Oh, no! Of course not. Do you think I don’t know what you’re here for?’ Really, for a minute or two I thought she must have been drinking. I went away without saying any more. But I thought it was very odd. The other thing was nothing very much. I was trying to entice a pi dog pup with a piece of bread. It was very timid, however, like all Arab dogs—and was convinced I meant no good. It slunk away and I followed it—out through the archway and round the corner of the house. I came round so sharply that before I knew I had cannoned into Father Lavigny and another man who were standing together—and in a minute I realized that the second man was the same one Mrs Leidner and I had noticed that day trying to peer through the window. I apologized and Father Lavigny smiled, and with a word of farewell greeting to the other man he returned to the house with me. ‘You know,’ he said. ‘I am very ashamed. I am a student of Oriental languages and none of the men on the work can understand me! It is humiliating, do you not think? I was trying my Arabic on that man, who is a townsman, to see if I got on better—but it still wasn’t very successful. Leidner says my Arabic is too pure.’ That was all. But it just passed through my head that it was odd the same man should still be hanging round the house. That night we had a scare. It must have been about two in the morning. I’m a light sleeper, as most nurses have to be. I was awake and sitting up in bed by the time that my door opened. ‘Nurse, nurse!’ It was Mrs Leidner’s voice, low and urgent. I struck a match and lighted the candle. She was standing by the door in a long blue dressing-gown. She was looking petrified with terror. ‘There’s someone—someone—in the room next to mine…I heard him—scratching on the wall.’ I jumped out of bed and came to her. ‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘I’m here. Don’t be afraid, my dear.’ She whispered: ‘Get Eric.’ I nodded and ran out and knocked on his door. In a minute he was with us. Mrs Leidner was sitting on my bed, her breath coming in great gasps. ‘I heard him,’ she said. ‘I heard him—scratching on the wall.’ ‘Someone in the antika-room?’ cried Dr Leidner. He ran out quickly—and it just flashed across my mind how differently these two had reacted. Mrs Leidner’s fear was entirely personal, but Dr Leidner’s mind leaped at once to his precious treasures. ‘The antika-room!’ breathed Mrs Leidner. ‘Of course! How stupid of me!’ And rising and pulling her gown round her, she bade me come with her. All traces of her panic-stricken fear had vanished. We arrived in the antika-room to find Dr Leidner and Father Lavigny. The latter had also heard a noise, had risen to investigate, and had fancied he saw a light in the antika-room. He had delayed to put on slippers and snatch up a torch and had found no one by the time he got there. The door, moreover, was duly locked, as it was supposed to be at night. Whilst he was assuring himself that nothing had been taken, Dr Leidner had joined him. Nothing more was to be learned. The outside archway door was locked. The guard swore nobody could have got in from outside, but as they had probably been fast asleep this was not conclusive. There were no marks or traces of an intruder and nothing had been taken. It was possible that what had alarmed Mrs Leidner was the noise made by Father Lavigny taking down boxes from the shelves to assure himself that all was in order. On the other hand, Father Lavigny himself was positive that he had (a) heard footsteps passing his window and (b) seen the flicker of a light, possibly a torch, in the antika-room. Nobody else had heard or seen anything. The incident is of value in my narrative because it led to Mrs Leidner’s unburdening herself to me on the following day. 第八章 深夜惊梦 8 我到达亚瑞米亚古丘以后那一个星期，要想确切知道该注意什么事，是有点难的。 由我现在所知道的情况来口顾当时的情形，就可以看出有许多小的迹象，但我当时一点也不曾看出。 虽然如此，为了要把这个故事讲得适当些，我以为应该追忆当时实际上的想法——我当时非常困惑、不安，愈来愈觉得情形有些不妙。 因为有一件事是可以确定的：那就是，那种奇怪的紧张感不是想象出来的，而是真的。甚至那个毫不敏感的比尔•柯尔曼，也批评到这一点。 “这个地方真使我火冒三丈，”有一次我听到他说，“他们老是闷闷不乐吗？” 那是他对另一个助理员大维•爱莫特说的话。我感觉到他的沉默寡言绝对不是不友善。这里大家都不敢确定别人的感觉或想法如何。在一个充满不安气氛的地方，他有一种似乎是很坚定、很能增加别人信心的气质。 “不是的，”对柯尔曼先生问的话，他这样回答，“去年不像这样子。” 但是，他没有扩大这个话题，也没再说什么。 “我搞不明白的就是：这一切都是怎么回事？”柯尔曼先生发愁地说。 爱莫特耸耸肩，可是没有回答。 有一次，我在同詹森小姐谈话中，使我领悟到一点。她是一个很能干、很实际，也很聪明的人。显而易见的，她对雷德纳博士分明有英雄崇拜的心理。 这一次，她告诉了我有关雷德纳博士从小到现在的生活情形。她晓得他挖掘的每个地点，以及挖掘的结果。我差不多可以确定，她能引用他每次发表演讲时所说的话。她对我说，他是当今最优秀的考古学家。 “而且，他非常单纯。完全是天真无邪的。他不知‘骄傲’为何物。唯有伟大的人物才会如此单纯。” “你说的很对。”我说，“伟大的人物是不需要仗势凌人的。”、 “而且他也有轻松愉快的气质。我们到这儿工作的头几年，我们的生活多有趣——我、瑞洽德•贾雷和他——真是难以形容，瑞洽德•贾雷同他在巴勒斯坦一起工作过。他们的交情已经有十年左右；唔，我认识他有七年了。” “贾雷先生多漂亮呀！”我说。 “是的——我想是的。” 她这话说得相当直率。 “不过，他只是有些沉默寡言，你觉得对吗？” “他以前不是如此，”詹森小姐马上说，“这只是自从——” 突然之间，她停下来不说了。 “只是自从——”我提示她。 “啊，”詹森小姐耸耸肩膀；那是她特有的一种举动。“如今许多情形都改变了。” 我没说什么。我希望她会继续说下去——而且她是继续说下去了——不过说话之前先发出轻微的笑声，仿佛是转移目标，使她的话显得不那么重要。 “我恐怕是一个头脑守旧的老顽固。我有时候想，一位考古学家的妻子如果是对考古不感兴趣，最好不必陪着一同勘查。她这样做才比较聪明些。反之，往往会引起摩擦。” “是麦加多太太吧？”我这样提示。 “啊，她呀！”詹森小姐不理会我的提示。“我实在想到的是雷德纳太太。她是个很可爱的人——用一个俗语来形容——由此我们就很能了解雷德纳博士当年怎么会‘为她神魂颠倒’了。但是，我禁不住这样想：她在这里很不适合。她——在这里就天下大乱。” 原来詹森小姐同克尔西太太有同感：这里充满不安气氛，雷德纳太太应该负责。但是，雷德纳太太自己的不安，又是什么原因呢？ “这就使他非常不安，”詹森小姐热诚地说，“当然，我——哈，我好像是一条忠实而又妒忌的老狗。我不喜欢看到他如此疲惫不堪，忧心忡忡。他应该全神贯注在他的发掘工作上，而不是终日陪着太太，为她那种无聊的恐惧而操心。假若她因为到偏僻的地方而神经紧张，那么，她就应该留在美国。对于那种到一个地方什么事也不做，只是发牢骚的人，我可不能忍耐！” 然后，她大概以为怕自己说得过甚其词，便继续说：“当然啦，我很佩服她。她是个很可爱的人。她要是高兴的话，她的风度是很迷人的。” 于是，那个话题就到此为止。 我暗想：女人要是都关在一个地方，日子久了，一定彼此妒忌。这情形永远是一样的。詹森小姐显然不喜欢东家的太太（那也许是很自然的现象），而且，除非我想得大错特错，麦加多太太也相当不喜欢她。 另外一个不喜欢雷德纳太太的是雪拉•瑞利。她到工地来过一两次。一次是乘汽车，另一次是同一个年轻小伙子骑一匹马来的——我是说，当然是骑两匹马。我隐隐的有一种感觉，她很喜欢那个沉默寡言的美国青年爱莫特。他在挖掘现场值班的时候，她往往停下来同他聊聊，而且我觉得他也爱慕她。 有一天，雷德纳太太在午餐时评论到这件事——她的话我想是有欠考虑。 “那个女孩子瑞利还在追大维，”她格格地笑着说，“可怜的大维，她甚至到挖掘场追你！女孩子有时候多痴情啊！”爱莫特先生没说什么，但是，他那黝黑的面孔有些红了。他露出一种非常奇怪的表情，正面望着她——那是一种直率的、坚定的眼光，其中有些挑战的神气。 她微微地笑了笑，眼睛望到别处。 我听到拉维尼神父低声说了些什么，但是，当我说“什么？”的时候，他只是摇摇头，并没有再说一遍。 那天下午，柯尔曼先生对我说：“其实，我起初并不大喜欢雷德纳太太。每到我讲话的时候，她总是申斥我。但是，我现在已经开始更了解她了，在我认识的女人当中，若论亲切待人，她可以说数二数二的了。你会不知不觉的把你遭到的困难统统告诉她，结果，你会发现不知道说到那里去了。她对雪拉•瑞利有恶感，我知道，但是，雪拉有一次对她也极不客气。那是雪拉最大的缺点——她毫不懂得礼貌，而且脾气很坏！” 这个我很相信，而且是有充足理由的。瑞利大夫把她惯坏了。 “当然，她一定会变得有些唯我独尊，因为她是这里唯一的年轻女人，但是，她同雷德纳太太讲话的态度仿佛雷德纳太太是她的老姑婆似的。这也是不可原谅的。雷德纳太大并不是个年轻女人，但是，她是个非常好看的女人，颇像神话里的仙女，由沼泽的乱草堆里提着灯笼出来，把你引诱而走。”他又怨恨地接着说，“你是不会觉得雪拉能引诱人的。她只是会骂人。” 另外，我只记得有两件值得注意的事。 头一件事是：我因为修补陶片，把手指头弄得粘粘的，便到研究室去拿些丙酮洗掉它。当我到那里的时候，我发现麦加多先生在一隅，头伏在胳膊上，我想他是睡着了。我拿到我要用的那瓶丙酮便走了。 那天晚上，麦加多太太出乎意外的抓住我。 “你从研究室拿走一瓶丙酮吗？” “是的，”我说，“我拿了。” “你明明知道古物室老是有一小瓶丙酮准备着的。” 她的话说得气势汹汹的。 “是吗？我不知道呀。” “我想你是知道的。你只是想到处侦查。我知道医院里的护士是什么样子。” 我的眼睛瞪得大大的，望着她。 “麦加多太太，我不知道你在说些什么，”我严正地说，“我绝对不要侦查任何人。” “啊，不会，当然不会。你以为我不知道你到这里来干什么吗？” 我思索了一两分钟。我实在以为她必定是喝醉酒了。我没再说什么，便走开了，但是，我以为这件事很奇怪。 另外一件也不是什么了不起的事。有一次，我正用一片面包诱使一只小野狗过来，不过，那小狗很胆小——所有的阿拉伯狗都是如此——它觉得我一定是不怀好意的，便逃走了。我跟着它跑出拱门、来到屋角。我跑得太猛了，不知不觉中撞着了拉维尼神父和另外一个人。他们正站在一块儿：我马上就发现另外那个人就是我那天同雷德纳太太注意到的那个想往窗里偷窥的人。 我向他们道歉，拉维尼神父笑了笑，同另外那个说了一句道别的话，便同我一起回来了。 “你知道，”他说，“我觉得很丢脸。我在学习东方语文。可是在这个工地没一个人能听懂我的东方语言：这是很丢脸的，你说是吗？方才，我正在试着同那个人用我学的阿拉伯语谈话，看看我的话有没有进步。那个人是镇上的人——但是仍然不很成功！雷德纳说我说的阿拉伯语太纯粹了。” 就是这个。但是，我的脑子里忽然掠过一个念头：那个人竟然还逗留在这房子周围。真是奇怪。 那一夜，我们有一场惊吓。 那是大约凌晨两点钟的时候。我是一个睡眠时非常警醒的人。做护士的人大多如此。到我的门开开的时候，我正坐在床上。 “护士小姐！护士小姐！” 那是雷德纳太太的声音，很低、很急。 我划着一根火柴，点起蜡烛。 她正站在门口，身穿一件蓝色的长晨袍，一副吓得发呆的样子。 “我隔壁的房间里，有一个人——有一个人——我听见他在抓墙壁。” 我跳下床来，走到她身边。 “不要紧，”我说，“有我在这里。别害怕，亲爱的。” 她低声说：“去找爱瑞克来。” 我点点头，便跑出去敲他的房间。过了片刻，他就同我们在一起了。雷德纳太太坐在我的床上，喘息的声音很大。 “我听见他，”她说，“我听见他——在抓墙。” “古物室有什么人吗？”雷德纳博士叫道。 他很快地跑出去——于是，在这刹那间，我突然想：这两个人的反应多么不同。雷德纳太太的恐惧完全是个人方面的。 但是雷德纳博士马上就想到他那些宝贵的宝藏。 “古物室，”雷德纳太太低声说，“当然了，我多愚蠢！”她站起身，拉好晨袍，叫我同她一起去。她那惊恐的神气统统化为乌有了。 我们来到古物室，发现雷德纳博士和拉维尼神父在那里。 拉维尼神父也听到一个声音，所以起床查看。他说他看到古物室有灯光，就穿上便鞋，抓了一个火把，因此，耽搁了一会儿。 等到他走到那里的时候，并没有发现什么人。不过，幸而那里的门是锁得好好的。在夜里，那门应该是锁好的。 雷德纳博士看什么也没有丢，这才安心。然后，他便同他碰面。 此外，并未发现什么。外面拱门已经上锁。守卫的人断然他说，谁也不可能由外面走进来。也许他们方才睡得很酣，这并不是确定的。但是，并没有人闯进来的亦象。 方才拉维尼神父从架子上把那些匣子取下来，看看是否一切都是整整齐齐的。很可能是他的声音惊醒了雷德纳太太。 另一方面，拉维尼神父本人也肯定地说，他听到脚步声由他窗外经过，并看到古物室有一个灯光一闪。 另外没人听到什么，或者看见什么。 这个偶发事件在我这篇记载中是具有价值的，因为，因此雷德纳太太才在第二天吐露隐衷。 Chapter 9 Mrs Leidner’s Story Chapter 9 Mrs Leidner’s Story We had just finished lunch. Mrs Leidner went to her room to rest as usual. I settled her on her bed with plenty of pillows and her book, and was leaving the room when she called me back. ‘Don’t go, nurse, there’s something I want to say to you.’ I came back into the room. ‘Shut the door.’ I obeyed. She got up from the bed and began to walk up and down the room. I could see that she was making up her mind to something and I didn’t like to interrupt her. She was clearly in great indecision of mind. At last she seemed to have nerved herself to the required point. She turned to me and said abruptly: ‘Sit down.’ I sat down by the table very quietly. She began nervously: ‘You must have wondered what all this is about?’ I just nodded without saying anything. ‘I’ve made up my mind to tell you—everything! I must tell someone or I shall go mad.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I think really it would be just as well. It’s not easy to know the best thing to do when one’s kept in the dark.’ She stopped in her uneasy walk and faced me. ‘Do you know what I’m frightened of?’ ‘Some man,’ I said. ‘Yes—but I didn’t say whom—I said what.’ I waited. She said: ‘I’m afraid of being killed!’ Well, it was out now. I wasn’t going to show any particular concern. She was near enough to hysterics as it was ‘Dear me,’ I said. ‘So that’s it, is it?’ Then she began to laugh. She laughed and she laughed—and the tears ran down her face. ‘The way you said that!’ she gasped. ‘The way you said it…’ ‘Now, now,’ I said. ‘This won’t do.’ I spoke sharply. I pushed her into a chair, went over to the washstand and got a cold sponge and bathed her forehead and wrists. ‘No more nonsense,’ I said. ‘Tell me calmly and sensibly all about it.’ That stopped her. She sat up and spoke in her natural voice. ‘You’re a treasure, nurse,’ she said. ‘You make me feel as though I’m six. I’m going to tell you.’ ‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘Take your time and don’t hurry.’ She began to speak, slowly and deliberately. ‘When I was a girl of twenty I married. A young man in one of our State departments. It was in 1918.’ ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Mrs Mercado told me. He was killed in the war.’ But Mrs Leidner shook her head. ‘That’s what she thinks. That’s what everybody thinks. The truth is something different. I was a queer patriotic, enthusiastic girl, nurse, full of idealism. When I’d been married a few months I discovered—by a quite unforeseeable accident—that my husband was a spy in German pay. I learned that the information supplied by him had led directly to the sinking of an American transport and the loss of hundreds of lives. I don’t know what most people would have done…But I’ll tell you what I did. I went straight to my father, who was in the War Department, and told him the truth. Frederick waskilled in the war—but he was killed in America—shot as a spy.’ ‘Oh dear, dear!’ I ejaculated. ‘How terrible!’ ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It was terrible. He was so kind, too—so gentle…And all the time…But I never hesitated. Perhaps I was wrong.’ ‘It’s difficult to say,’ I said. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what one would do.’ ‘What I’m telling you was never generally known outside the State department. Ostensibly my husband had gone to the Front and had been killed. I had a lot of sympathy and kindness shown me as a war widow.’ Her voice was bitter and I nodded comprehendingly. ‘Lots of people wanted to marry me, but I always refused. I’d had too bad a shock. I didn’t feel I could evertrustanyone again.’ ‘Yes, I can imagine feeling like that.’ ‘And then I became very fond of a certain young man. I wavered. An amazing thing happened! I got an anonymous letter—from Frederick—saying that if I ever married another man, he’d kill me!’ ‘From Frederick? From your dead husband?’ ‘Yes. Of course, I thought at first I was mad or dreaming…At last I went to my father. He told me the truth. My husband hadn’t been shot after all. He’d escaped—but his escape did him no good. He was involved in a train wreck a few weeks later and his dead body was found amongst others. My father had kept the fact of his escape from me, and since the man had died anyway he had seen no reason to tell me anything until now. ‘But the letter I received opened up entirely new possibilities. Was it perhaps a fact that my husband was still alive? ‘My father went into the matter as carefully as possible. And he declared that as far as one could humanly be sure the body that was buried as Frederick’s wasFrederick’s. There had been a certain amount of disfiguration, so that he could not speak with absolute cast-iron certainty, but he reiterated his solemn belief that Frederick was dead and that this letter was a cruel and malicious hoax. ‘The same thing happened more than once. If I seemed to be on intimate terms with any man, I would receive a threatening letter.’ ‘In your husband’s handwriting?’ She said slowly: ‘That is difficult to say. I had no letters of his. I had only my memory to go by.’ ‘There was no allusion or special form of words used that could make you sure?’ ‘No. There werecertain terms—nicknames, for instance—private between us—if one of those had been used or quoted, then I should have been quite sure.’ ‘Yes,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘That is odd. It looks as though it wasn’tyour husband. But is there anyone else it could be?’ ‘There is a possibility. Frederick had a younger brother—a boy of ten or twelve at the time of our marriage. He worshipped Frederick and Frederick was devoted to him. What happened to this boy, William his name was, I don’t know. It seems to me possible that, adoring his brother as fanatically as he did, he may have grown up regarding me as directly responsible for his death. He had always been jealous of me and may have invented this scheme by way of punishment.’ ‘It’s possible,’ I said. ‘It’s amazing the way children do remember if they’ve had a shock.’ ‘I know. This boy may have dedicated his life to revenge.’ ‘Please go on.’ ‘There isn’t much more to tell. I met Eric three years ago. I meant never to marry. Eric made me change my mind. Right up to our wedding day I waited for another threatening letter. None came. I decided that whoever the writer might be, he was either dead, or tired of his cruel sportTwo days after our marriage I got this.’ Drawing a small attaché-case which was on the table towards her, she unlocked it, took out a letter and handed it to me. The ink was slightly faded. It was written in a rather womanish hand with a forward slant. You have disobeyed. Now you cannot escape. You must be Frederick Bosner’s wife only! You have got to die. ‘I was frightened—but not so much as I might have been to begin with. Being with Eric made me feel safe. Then, a month later, I got a second letter.’ I have not forgotten. I am making my plans. You have got to die. Why did you disobey? ‘Does your husband know about this?’ Mrs Leidner answered slowly. ‘He knows that I am threatened. I showed him both letters when the second one came. He was inclined to think the whole thing a hoax. He thought also that it might be someone who wanted to blackmail me by pretending my first husband was alive.’ She paused and then went on. ‘A few days after I received the second letter we had a narrow escape from death by gas poisoning. Somebody entered our apartment after we were asleep and turned on the gas. Luckily I woke and smelled the gas in time. Then I lost my nerve. I told Eric how I had been persecuted for years, and I told him that I was sure this madman, whoever he might be, did really mean to kill me. I think that for the first time I really did think it wasFrederick. There was always something a little ruthless behind his gentleness. ‘Eric was still, I think, less alarmed than I was. He wanted to go to the police. Naturally I wouldn’t hear of that. In the end we agreed that I should accompany him here, and that it might be wise if I didn’t return to America in the summer but stayed in London and Paris. ‘We carried out our plan and all went well. I felt sure that now everything would be all right. After all, we had put half the globe between ourselves and my enemy. ‘And then—a little over three weeks ago—I received a letter—with an Iraq stamp on it.’ She handed me a third letter. You thought you could escape. You were wrong. You shall not be false to me and live. I have always told you so. Death is coming very soon. ‘And a week ago—this! Just lying on the table here. It had not even gone through the post.’ I took the sheet of paper from her. There was just one phrase scrawled across it. I have arrived. She stared at me. ‘You see? You understand? He’s going to kill me. It may be Frederick—it may be little William—but he’s going to kill me.’ Her voice rose shudderingly. I caught her wrist. ‘Now—now,’ I said warningly. ‘Don’t give way. We’ll look after you. Have you got any sal volatile?’ She nodded towards the washstand and I gave her a good dose. ‘That’s better,’ I said, as the colour returned to her cheeks. ‘Yes, I’m better now. But oh, nurse, do you see why I’m in this state? When I saw that man looking in through my window, I thought: he’s come…Even when youarrived I was suspicious. I thought you might be a man in disguise—’ ‘The idea!’ ‘Oh, I know it sounds absurd. But you might have been in league with him perhaps—not a hospital nurse at all.’ ‘But that’s nonsense!’ ‘Yes, perhaps. But I’ve got beyond sense.’ Struck by a sudden idea, I said: ‘You’d recognizeyour husband, I suppose?’ She answered slowly. ‘I don’t even know that. It’s over fifteen years ago. I mightn’t recognize his face.’ Then she shivered. ‘I saw it one night—but it was a deadface. There was a tap, tap, tap on the window. And then I saw a face, a dead face, ghastly and grinning against the pane. I screamed and screamed…And they said there wasn’t anything there!’ I remembered Mrs Mercado’s story. ‘You don’t think,’ I said hesitatingly, ‘that you dreamtthat?’ ‘I’m sure I didn’t!’ I wasn’t so sure. It was the kind of nightmare that was quite likely under the circumstances and that easily might be taken for a waking occurrence. However, I never contradict a patient. I soothed Mrs Leidner as best I could and pointed out that if any stranger arrived in the neighbourhood it was pretty sure to be known. I left her, I think, a little comforted, and I went in search of Dr Leidner and told him of our conversation. ‘I’m glad she told you,’ he said simply. ‘It has worried me dreadfully. I feel sure that all those faces and tappings on the window-pane have been sheer imagination on her part. I haven’t known what to do for the best. What do you think of the whole thing?’ I didn’t quite understand the tone in his voice, but I answered promptly enough. ‘It’s possible,’ I said, ‘that these letters may be just a cruel and malicious hoax.’ ‘Yes, that is quite likely. But what are we to do? They are driving her mad. I don’t know what to think.’ I didn’t either. It had occurred to me that possibly a woman might be concerned. Those letters had a feminine note about them. Mrs Mercado was at the back of my mind. Supposing that by some chance she had learnt the facts of Mrs Leidner’s first marriage? She might be indulging her spite by terrorizing the other woman. I didn’t quite like to suggest such a thing to Dr Leidner. It’s so difficult to know how people are going to take things. ‘Oh, well,’ I said cheerfully, ‘we must hope for the best. I think Mrs Leidner seems happier already from just talking about it. That’s always a help, you know. It’s bottling things up that makes them get on your nerves.’ ‘I’m very glad she has told you,’ he repeated. ‘It’s a good sign. It shows she likes and trusts you. I’ve been at my wits’ end to know what to do for the best.’ It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him whether he’d thought of giving a discreet hint to the local police, but afterwards I was glad I hadn’t done so. What happened was this. On the following day Mr Coleman was going in to Hassanieh to get the workmen’s pay. He was also taking in all our letters to catch the air mail. The letters, as written, were dropped into a wooden box on the dining-room window-sill. Last thing that night Mr Coleman took them out and was sorting them out into bundles and putting rubber bands round them. Suddenly he gave a shout. ‘What is it?’ I asked. He held out a letter with a grin. ‘It’s our Lovely Louise—she really isgoing balmy. She’s addressed a letter to someone at 42nd Street, Paris, France. I don’t think that can be right, do you? Do you mind taking it to her and asking what she doesmean? She’s just gone off to bed.’ I took it from him and ran off to Mrs Leidner with it and she amended the address. It was the first time I had seen Mrs Leidner’s handwriting, and I wondered idly where I had seen it before, for it was certainly quite familiar to me. It wasn’t till the middle of the night that it suddenly came to me. Except that it was bigger and rather more straggling, it was extraordinarily like the writing on the anonymous letters New ideas flashed through my head. Had Mrs Leidner conceivably written those letters herself? And did Dr Leidner half-suspect the fact? 第九章 利德勒太太的轶闻 9 我们刚刚吃完午餐。雷德纳太太照例回房休息。我打发她上床，给她好几个枕头，还有她要看的书。我刚要离开她的房间时，她把我叫回去。 “护士小姐，不要走。我有一件事要对你说。” 我又回到她的房里。 “把门关上。” 我遵照办理。 她下了床，开始来回踱着。我可以看得出她在下决心做一件事，不想干扰她。她分明是有一件事，犹豫不决。 最后，她似乎已经鼓起勇气去做她需要做的事了。于是，她转过身来，突然对我说：“坐下来。” 我静静地坐在桌旁。她紧张地说：“你也许不明白这一切都是怎么回事吧？” 我没说什么，只是点点头。 “我已经下定决心要告诉你了——一切都告诉你！我必须告诉一个人，否则，我就要发疯了。” “好吧，”我说，“我实在以为你这样做也好，当一个人蒙在鼓中的时候，是不容易知道怎么做才是最好的。” 她丕再不安的踱来踱去，现在面对着我。 “你知道我害怕些什么吗？” “一个男人，”我说。 “是的——但是，我并没说是什么人——我是说，什么事。” 我等她说下去。 她说：“我怕让人害死！” 啊，现在已经说出来了。我可不能表示出我有什么特别的忧虑，她已经几乎变得歇斯底里了。 “哎呀，”我说，“原来如此，真的吗？”。 于是，她哈哈大笑。她笑呀，笑呀，笑得眼泪都出来了。 “你那样说法真可笑！”她说，“你那样说法真可笑！” “好了，好了，”我说，“这样是不行的，”我严厉地说，我把她推到一把椅子上坐下，到洗脸盆那里，用冷水浸浸海绵，洗洗她的额和手腕。 “不要再乱讲了，”我说，“镇定而又切实地把一切都告诉我。” 这样一说，她的笑声停止了。她坐起来、用她平常讲话的自然声调说话。 “护士小姐，你是个无价之宝。”她说，“你使我觉得我仿佛只有六岁，我要告诉你。” “对了。”我说，“不要忙，不急。” 她开始讲了，慢慢地、不慌不忙：“我还是二十岁的女孩子时候，我结婚了。”对方是一个在国务院做事的青年，那是在一九一八年。”。 “我知道。”我说，“麦加多太太对我说过，他在大战期间阵亡了。” 但是雷德纳太太摇摇头。 “那是她的想法，那是大家的想法。，事实上，那是一件完全不同的事，护士小姐，当时我是一个很怪的、非常爱国而且热情的女孩子，一脑门子理想主义的思想。当我结婚只有几个月的时候，由于一件预料不到的偶发事件，我发现丈夫是德国人花钱雇的间谍。我后来才晓得正是由于他供给的情报，才直接引起一艘美国运输舰的沉没，以及许多人丧失性命。我不知道别人遇到这种事大都怎样办，但是，我来告诉你我怎么办的吧。我的父亲在军政部，我便径直到他那里，把实情告诉他。佛瑞德瑞克事实上不是在作战时阵亡的——他是在美国以间谍罪被处决的。” “哦，哎呀，哎呀！”我叫道，“多可怕！” “是的。”她说，“那是很可怕的，他也很亲切、很温柔。但是，仍然——不过，我毫不犹豫。也许，我错了。” “这很难说，”我说，“我的确不知道一个人遇到这种事该怎么办。” “我告诉你的这些事，国务院以外是不公开的。表面上看，我的丈夫是到前线打仗时阵亡的。我是一个阵亡军人的寡妇，受到各方不少的同情和眷顾。、 她显得很悲痛，我非常了解地点点头。 “有不少男人想同我结婚，可是，我总是拒绝。我受的打击太大，所以已不能再信任任何人。” “是的，我可以想象到一个人会有你那样的感觉。” “后来，我喜欢了一个年轻人，我正在犹豫，发生了一件令人惊异的事！我收到一封令人烦恼的信——是佛瑞德瑞克寄来的——信上说：我如果同另外一个男人结婚，他就要我的命！” “佛瑞德瑞克寄来的？你的亡夫寄来的？” “是的，当然是的、起初我以为自己疯了，或是在做梦，最后，我去找我的父亲，他这才把实话告诉我，原来我的丈夫并没有被枪决，他逃跑了——但是，他的逃亡仍然没有用。几个星期之后，有一班火车出轨，他就在车上。在遇难者的尸首当中，发现了他的尸首。我的父亲一直将他逃亡的事瞒着我，他以为反正人已经死了，那就没有任何理由要告诉我。直到发生这件事，他才道出实情。 “但是，那封信一来，就让人有一些新的揣测。也许事实上我的丈夫仍在人间吧？ “我的父亲尽可能地仔细研究这件事。他的结论是：依人之常情而论，我们可以相信，那具当做佛瑞德瑞克尸体埋葬的尸体就是佛瑞德瑞克。那尸体面貌已经相当难认了。所以，他也不能斩钉截铁他说一定是的，但是，他一再郑重他说，他相信佛瑞德瑞克是死了，那封信一定是一个残忍而且恶毒的人在捉弄我。 “同样的事发生过不止一次，我和任何一个男人如果似乎很亲密了，我就会接到一封恐吓信。” “是你丈夫的笔迹吗？” 她慢慢地说：“这很难说，我没有保存他的信，只有凭记忆来判断。” “信上有没有提到什么往事，或者用一些特别的字眼，使你可以确定是他写的？” “没有。过去的确有一些字眼——譬如说外号之类的字眼——我们两人之间常用的字眼——假若来信用到或者引用到那些字眼，我就可以确定了。” “是的。”我思索着说，“这很奇怪。不过，看情形这仿佛不是你丈夫写的。但是，这可能是别的人写的吗？” “有一个可能，佛瑞德瑞克有一个弟弟——我们结婚的时候他还是个十岁或十二岁的孩子，他的名字叫威廉。他崇拜佛瑞德瑞克，佛瑞德瑞克也很喜欢他，那孩子后来怎么样，我不得而知。我想，他既然那样狂热地崇拜他哥哥，等他长大了，似乎很可以认为他的死亡，我应该负责。他也许会想出一个阴谋来惩罚我。” “这是可能的。”我说，“小孩子如果受到打击，就会记在心里、这实在是令人惊异的事。” “我知道，这孩子也许把一生的时间都用到报复上。” “请你再说下去。” “此外没有很多的话要说，我在三年前认识爱瑞克，我本来打算永远不结婚，可是爱瑞克使我改变主意，直到我们结婚的那一天，我一直在等待另一封恐吓信，可是一封也没有。于是，我就下了一个结论：不论写那种信的人是谁，如今他不是死了，便是他觉得那种残忍的把戏玩腻了。可是，我们婚后的第三天，我收到这封信。” 她由桌子上拉过一个小公事包，打开锁，取出一封信来递给我。 墨水稍微有些褪色，笔迹相当女人气，字体向前斜： 你没有听我的话，现在你逃不掉了，你只可以是佛瑞德瑞克•巴斯纳的妻子！你一定得死！ 我很害怕——但是，首先，现在并不像以前那样怕，同爱瑞克在一起使我觉得很安全，后来，一个月之后，我收到另一封： 我并未忘记，我在计划，你一定得死，你为何不听我的话？ “你丈夫知道这件事吗？” 雷德纳太太回答得很慢：”他知道我受到恐吓，第二封信寄来的时候，我把两封信都拿给他看，他想这完全是有人捉弄我。他也以为，也许有什么人冒充我的前夫尚在人间来勒索我。” 她停顿片刻，然后接着说下去。 “我收到第二封信之后没有几天，我们险些因瓦斯中毒而送命。我们睡着以后，有人走进我们的公寓，把瓦斯炉打开，幸亏我及时醒过来闻到瓦斯味。后来，我失去了勇气，我对爱瑞克说我受到这种困扰已经好几年了。我又告诉他，我相信这个疯子——不管他是谁——实在是打算害死我的。我第一次认为那的确是佛瑞德瑞克，在他那温柔的表面背后始终有一点冷酷的成分。 “我想，爱瑞克不像我这样惊慌，他想到警察局去报告，我自然不许他那么做，到最后我们都认为我应该陪他到这里来。 到了夏天，假若我不回美国，而待在巴黎或者伦敦，比较好。 “我们实行了我们的计划，一切都很顺利。我觉得如今一定一切都没事了，我们毕竟和敌人之间隔开了半个地球呢。 “于是，后来——三星期多以前——我收到一封信——上面有伊拉克的邮票。” 她把另一封信递给我： 你以为你能逃脱，你错了。我不许你对我不忠，而又能活着，过去我老是对你这样说的，你的死期就要到了。 “后来，一星期以前——这个——就是放在这里桌上的信，这封信甚至于没经过邮局。” 我由她手里接过那张信纸，上面只有潦潦草草的一句话： 我已经到了。 她目不转睛地望着我。 “你看到吗？你明白吗：他准备害死我，这也许是佛瑞德瑞克——也许是小威廉——但是，他准备害死我呀。” 她的声音发抖，变得很高，我连忙抓住她的手腕。 “好了，好了。”我警告她说，“你要尽量控制自己的情绪，我们会照顾你的，你有挥发盐吗？” 她点点头，朝盥洗室方面望。于是，我就给她服用相当大的剂量。 “这就好些。”我说，她的两颊已经恢复了血色。 “是的，我现在觉得好些。但是，啊，护士小姐，你知道我怎么会这样不安吗？当我看到那个男人向窗内窥探的时候，我想，他来了！甚至于你来的时候，我也起疑心。我想你也许是一个男人假扮的——” “想得真离奇！” “啊，我知道我的话听起来很好笑。但是，你也许是和他串通好的——根本不是从医院来的护士。” “可是，你这是乱讲！” “是的，也许是的。但是，我已经变得失去理智了。” 我突然灵机一动，说：“我想，你会认得出你的丈夫吧？” 她慢吞吞地说：“甚至这个我也不知道，已经是十五年前的事了，我也许认不出他的面孔了。” 然后，她吓得发抖。 “有一个夜晚我看到他的面孔——但是那是一个死人的面孔。窗玻璃上有人敲打的声音，啪嗒！啪嗒！啪嗒！然后，我看到一个面孔，一个死人的面孔，鬼一样的，咧着嘴笑，紧贴在窗玻璃上，我不住地尖叫，可是他们说那里根本没有什么东西！” 这使我回想起麦加多太太的说法。 “你以为，”我犹豫地说，“你不是在梦里看到的吧？” “我可以确定不是在做梦。” 我却不那么确定，那是一种在这样情况下很可能有的噩梦，而且很容易让人在睡醒时觉得是真发生的事。虽然如此，我向来不和病人抬杠。我尽力安慰她，并且对她指出：假若有一个陌生人来到邻近一带地方，一定会有人知道的。 我离开她的时候，我想，她感到有些安心了。然后，我便去找雷德纳博士，去告诉他我们的谈话情形。 “我很高兴，她已经告诉你了。”他只是这样说，“这件事使我非常担心。我相信那些面孔呀、窗玻璃上的敲打声呀，完全是她想象出来的。我始终不知道怎样才是最好的办法，你对整个这件事有什么想法？” 对于他说话的语调，我不大十分了解，但是我回答得相当快。 “很可能，”我说，“这些信也许是有人在用残忍而且恶毒的手段来捉弄人的。” 、 “是的，这是很可能的。但是，我们怎么办才好呢？这些信吓得她要发疯了，我不晓得该怎么办才好。” 我也不晓得，我觉得这件事可能与一个女人有关，那些信上的笔迹有女人气，我的内心深处有麦加多太太的影子。 也许她偶然有机会探听到雷德纳太太第一次婚姻的实情，她也许是用恐吓手段来尽量发泄心中的怨恨。 我并不十分想向雷德纳博士提示这样一件事，我们很难知道别人对你的话如何感受。 “啊，”我乐观地说，“我们必须往最好的地方想，我想雷德纳太太只要说出来，似乎已经舒服多了。你知道，说出来总是好的，把事情闷在心里才会使人烦躁。” “我很喜欢，她已经告诉你了。”他重复地说，“这是一个好的迹象，由此可见她喜欢你、信任你。我始终不知道怎么办才好，已经智穷力竭了。” 我本想问他是否考虑过慎重地向当地的警察局提出暗示，但是，话都到嘴边了，临时又决定不说。事后想想，幸而没有这么做，因而非常高兴。 以后发生的事是这样的。第二天，柯尔曼准备进城去取出工人的工钱，他也要把所有的信件带去赶航空邮班。 所有的信，写好以后，都丢进餐厅窗台上一个木箱里。那天夜里柯尔曼先生所做的最后一件事便是把那些信取出来，分门别类地用橡皮筋一束一束地扎好。 突然之间，他发出一声叫喊。 “什么事？”我间。 “这是我们可爱的露伊思写的——她好奇怪，真的变得神经不正常了。她在信封上写的地址是：法国、巴黎、四十二街某人收。我想这样写不对吧，你说是不是？你把它拿给她，问她这是什么意思，好吗？她刚回房休息。” 我把信拿过来，连忙跑到雷德纳太太房里，让她把地址改好。 我还是第一次看到雷德纳太太的笔迹。于是我偶然想到这笔迹不知道以前在什么地方见过，因为看起来的确很熟悉，到了半夜我才突然想起来。这笔迹除了字体比较大一些，也更零乱些以外，和那些匿名信上的笔迹特别像。 我忽然灵机一动，有一个新的想法，那些信也许是雷德纳太太自己写的吧？雷德纳博士对这件事有些知情吗？ Chapter 10 Saturday Afternoon Chapter 10 Saturday Afternoon Mrs Leidner told me her story on a Friday. On the Saturday morning there was a feeling of slight anticlimax in the air. Mrs Leidner, in particular, was inclined to be very offhand with me and rather pointedly avoided any possibility of a tête-à-tête. Well, thatdidn’t surprise me! I’ve had the same thing happen to me again and again. Ladies tell their nurses things in a sudden burst of confidence, and then, afterwards, they feel uncomfortable about it and wish they hadn’t! It’s only human nature. I was very careful not to hint or remind her in any way of what she had told me. I purposely kept my conversation as matter-of-fact as possible. Mr Coleman had started in to Hassanieh in the morning, driving himself in the lorry with the letters in a knapsack. He also had one or two commissions to do for the members of the expedition. It was pay-day for the men, and he would have to go to the bank and bring out the money in coins of small denominations. All this was a long business and he did not expect to be back until the afternoon. I rather suspected he might be lunching with Sheila Reilly. Work on the dig was usually not very busy on the afternoon of pay-day as at three-thirty the paying-out began. The little boy, Abdullah, whose business it was to wash pots, was established as usual in the centre of the courtyard, and again, as usual, kept up his queer nasal chant. Dr Leidner and Mr Emmott were going to put in some work on the pottery until Mr Coleman returned, and Mr Carey went up to the dig. Mrs Leidner went to her room to rest. I settled her as usual and then went to my own room, taking a book with me as I did not feel sleepy. It was then about a quarter to one, and a couple of hours passed quite pleasantly. I was reading Death in a Nursing Home—really a most exciting story—though I don’t think the author knew much about the way nursing homes are run! At any rate I’ve never known a nursing home like that! I really felt inclined to write to the author and put him right about a few points. When I put the book down at last (it was the red-haired parlourmaid and I’d never suspected her once!) and looked at my watch I was quite surprised to find it was twenty minutes to three! I got up, straightened my uniform, and came out into the courtyard. Abdullah was still scrubbing and still singing his depressing chant, and David Emmott was standing by him sorting the scrubbed pots, and putting the ones that were broken into boxes to await mending. I strolled over towards them just as Dr Leidner came down the staircase from the roof. ‘Not a bad afternoon,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’ve made a bit of a clearance up there. Louise will be pleased. She’s complained lately that there’s not room to walk about. I’ll go and tell her the good news.’ He went over to his wife’s door, tapped on it and went in. It must, I suppose, have been about a minute and a half later that he came out again. I happened to be looking at the door when he did so. It was like a nightmare. He had gone in a brisk, cheerful man. He came out like a drunken one—reeling a little on his feet, and with a queer dazed expression on his face. ‘Nurse—’ he called in a queer, hoarse voice. ‘Nurse—’ I saw at once something was wrong and I ran across to him. He looked awful—his face was all grey and twitching, and I saw he might collapse any minute. ‘My wife…’ he said. ‘My wife…Oh, my God…’ I pushed past him into the room. Then I caught my breath. Mrs Leidner was lying in a dreadful huddled heap by the bed. I bent over her. She was quite dead—must have been dead an hour at least. The cause of death was perfectly plain—a terrific blow on the front of the head just over the right temple. She must have got up from the bed and been struck down where she stood. I didn’t handle her more than I could help. I glanced round the room to see if there was anything that might give a clue, but nothing seemed out of place or disturbed. The windows were closed and fastened, and there was no place where the murderer could have hidden. Obviously he had been and gone long ago. I went out, closing the door behind me. Dr Leidner had collapsed completely now. David Emmott was with him and turned a white, inquiring face to me. In a few low words I told him what had happened. As I had always suspected, he was a first-class person to rely on in trouble. He was perfectly calm and self-possessed. Those blue eyes of his opened very wide, but otherwise he gave no sign at all. He considered for a moment and then said: ‘I suppose we must notify the police as soon as possible. Bill ought to be back any minute. What shall we do with Leidner?’ ‘Help me to get him into his room.’ He nodded. ‘Better lock this door first, I suppose,’ he said. He turned the key in the lock of Mrs Leidner’s door, then drew it out and handed it to me. ‘I guess you’d better keep this, nurse. Now then.’ Together we lifted Dr Leidner and carried him into his own room and laid him on his bed. Mr Emmott went off in search of brandy. He returned, accompanied by Miss Johnson. Her face was drawn and anxious, but she was calm and capable, and I felt satisfied to leave Dr Leidner in her charge. I hurried out into the courtyard. The station wagon was just coming in through the archway. I think it gave us all a shock to see Bill’s pink, cheerful face as he jumped out with his familiar ‘Hallo, ’allo, ’allo! Here’s the oof!’ He went on gaily, ‘No highway robberies—’ He came to a halt suddenly. ‘I say, is anything up? What’s the matter with you all? You look as though the cat had killed your canary.’ Mr Emmott said shortly: ‘Mrs Leidner’s dead—killed.’ ‘What?’ Bill’s jolly face changed ludicrously. He stared, his eyes goggling. ‘Mother Leidner dead! You’re pulling my leg.’ ‘Dead?’ It was a sharp cry. I turned to see Mrs Mercado behind me. ‘Did you say Mrs Leidner had been killed?’ ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Murdered.’ ‘No!’ she gasped. ‘Oh, no! I won’t believe it. Perhaps she’s committed suicide.’ ‘Suicides don’t hit themselves on the head,’ I said dryly. ‘It’s murder all right, Mrs Mercado.’ She sat down suddenly on an upturned packing-case. She said, ‘Oh, but this is horrible—horrible…’ Naturally it was horrible. We didn’t need herto tell us so! I wondered if perhaps she was feeling a bit remorseful for the harsh feelings she had harboured against the dead woman, and all the spiteful things she had said. After a minute or two she asked rather breathlessly: ‘What are you going to do?’ Mr Emmott took charge in his quiet way. ‘Bill, you’d better get in again to Hassanieh as quick as you can. I don’t know much about the proper procedure. Better get hold of Captain Maitland, he’s in charge of the police here, I think. Get Dr Reilly first. He’ll know what to do.’ Mr Coleman nodded. All the facetiousness was knocked out of him. He just looked young and frightened. Without a word he jumped into the station wagon and drove off. Mr Emmott said rather uncertainly, ‘I suppose we ought to have a hunt round.’ He raised his voice and called: ‘Ibrahim!’ ‘Na’am.’ The house-boy came running. Mr Emmott spoke to him in Arabic. A vigorous colloquy passed between them. The boy seemed to be emphatically denying something. At last Mr Emmott said in a perplexed voice, ‘He says there’s not been a soul here this afternoon. No stranger of any kind. I suppose the fellow must have slipped in without their seeing him.’ ‘Of course he did,’ said Mrs Mercado. ‘He slunk in when the boys weren’t looking.’ ‘Yes,’ said Mr Emmott. The slight uncertainty in his voice made me look at him inquiringly. He turned and spoke to the little pot-boy, Abdullah, asking him a question. The boy replied vehemently at length. The puzzled frown on Mr Emmott’s brow increased. ‘I don’t understand it,’ he murmured under his breath. ‘I don’t understand it at all.’ But he didn’t tell me what he didn’t understand. 第十章 星期六下午 10 雷德纳太太在星期五告诉我一切经过的情形，星期六上午，这个地方稍微有些高潮突降的气氛。 雷德纳太太尤其不同，她仿佛对我很不客气，而且相当明显地避免有同我秘谈的可能。啊，这一点，我并不觉得惊奇，我曾经一再地遇到过同样的事，女病人往往一时感情冲动，把隐秘讲给护士听，事后感觉不自在，认为要是没讲就好了。这不过是人之常情。 我非常小心，绝对不以任何方式暗示或提醒她以前她所讲的话，我故意尽量说些显得平淡的话。 柯尔曼早上到城里去，自己开一辆旅行车，带着帆布包装好的信件。他还有一两件考察团同事托他办的事，这是工人的发薪日，他得到银行领出小额的硬币，这一切事务必须拖很久时间，所以要到下午才能回来，我有点感觉他或许会和雪拉•瑞利一块儿午餐。 发薪日下午挖掘场的工作通常都不甚繁忙，因为薪水在三点半钟就开始发放. ～ 那个小男孩阿布都拉，他的工作是洗罐子。现在已在院子中间照例坐好，并且也照例用鼻音唱出那种奇怪的歌调。雷德纳博士和爱莫特先生趁柯尔曼先生回来之前去做点事，贾雷先生到工地去挖掘了。 雷德纳太太回房休息，我照例帮她安顿好，然后回到我自己的房里，因为我不觉得困，所以带一本书去看看。当时是差一刻一点钟，以后几小时的时间很愉快地度过，我在看《疗养院命案》——那实在是一部很刺激的小说——不过我以为作者对于疗养院的管理情形并不了解。无论怎么说，我从来役见过像那样的疗养院，我实在想写信给作者纠正书中几点谬误。 我把书放下，（凶手原来是那个红头发的女仆！）一看表，吃了一惊，原来已经差二十分钟就三点了。 我起来，把睡皱了的护士装拉拉平，便来到院子里。 阿布都拉仍在洗刷陶罐，并且唱那个沉闷的歌调。大维•爱莫特站在他旁边，分门别类地整理，把一些破碎的放到箱子里等以后修补。我朝他们那边荡过去，雷德纳恰巧这时候由屋顶走下楼梯。 “这一个午后的时光过得不错。”雷德纳兴致勃勃地说，“我把那里清理一下——露伊思看到一定很高兴，她最近抱怨那里连走走的余地都没有，我要去报告她这个好消息。” 他走过去到他太太门口敲敲门，然后便走进去。 他再走出来的时候，我想是大约7分半钟以后。当他出来的时候，我碰巧正往那个门口望。那简直像一场噩梦，他走进去的时候是个精神勃勃、神情愉快的人，出来的时候活像是个酩配大醉的人——走起路来脚步瞒跚，一脸恍惚的神色。 “护士小姐——”他用奇怪的、沙哑的声音叫道，“护士小姐——” 我立即看出有什么地方不对，便跑过去。他的样子很难看——面孔苍白，不住地抽搐，看样子他随时都会崩溃。 “我的太太——”，他说，“我的太太——啊，去啊！” 我打他身旁冲进房里一看，不觉打了一个寒噤。 雷德纳太太躺在床边，缩作一团。 我俯身看看，她已经完全没有气息——也许死去至少有一小时之久，死因很明显——头的前部受人重重的打击过——正在太阳穴上，她想必是由床上爬起，站在床边时让人打倒在地。 我尽量避免多动她。 我四下看看，看是否有什么东西能给我一个线索，但是屋里一切都整整齐齐，毫无搅乱的痕迹。窗户都关着，并且闩得好好的、没有一点可让凶手藏身的地方，显然他早就来过，也已经走了。 我走出来，随手带上门。 雷德纳博士现在已经完全崩溃了，大维•爱莫特和他在一起，转过苍白的面孔望着我，充满急于想知道究竟的神气。 我用短短的几句话告诉大维•爱莫特出了什么事。 我以前始终觉得，遇到困难的时候，大维•爱莫特是最可依靠的人。果然不错，他很镇定、很冷静。他的蓝眼睛睁得大大的，但是，他另外没有丝毫特别的表示。 他考虑一下，然后说，“我想我们得尽早通知警察局，比尔随时可能回来了，雷德纳我们该怎么办？” “帮我抬他回房去。” 他点点头。 “我想，最好先锁上这个房门。”他说、 他把雷德纳太太的房门钥匙拿出来，递给我。 “护士小姐，我想这把钥匙还是你收着好。那么，现在抬他进去吧。” 我们合力将雷德纳博士抬起来，然后将他抬到他自己的房里，放在床上。爱奠特先生去找白兰地给他喝。他回来的时候，詹森小姐也一同来了。 她的脸拉得长长的，很担忧，但是她很镇定，也很能干。于是，我觉得把雷德纳博士留在这里由她照顾就好了。 我匆匆来到院子里，那辆客货两用的旅行车刚由拱门进来。我们看到比尔那副红红的快活的面孔，又听到他跳下来时讲话的熟悉声音说：“哈罗，哈罗，哈罗！钱来了！”他又快活地接着说：“没在公路上遇上强盗——”我想大家反而觉得非常厌恶。 他的话突然中断：“啊？出了什么事吗？你们大伙都怎么啦？你们那副样子仿佛猫把你们的金丝雀咬死了。” 爱莫特先生简短地说：“雷德纳太太死了——让人害死了。” “什么？”比尔那个欢天喜地的面孔忽然很滑稽的变了样。 他目不转睛地望着我们，眼睛瞪得大大的：“雷德纳妈妈死了？你们是同我开玩笑吧？” “死了？”那是一声尖锐的叫喊。我转过头来，看到麦加多太太在我背后，“你是说雷德纳太太叫人害死了吗？” “是的，”我说，“让人害死了。” “不会！”她喘息着说，“啊，不会！我不相信。也许她自杀了。” “自杀的人不会打自己的头，”我冷冷地说，“这是谋杀，不错的，麦加多太太。” 她突然在一个倒放着的包装箱上坐下来。 她说：“啊，这是很可怕的！很可怕的！” 这自然是很可怕的，我们并不需要她来告诉我们。我想或许是因为她对死者怀有恶感，以及她说过的那许多怨恨的话而感到懊悔。 过了一两分钟，她有些上气不接下气地问：“你们打算怎么办？” 爱莫特先生以他惯有的镇定态度负责主持一切。 “比尔，你最好尽快再进城去。我不太知道遇到这种事该采取什么正当的步骤，最好找到梅特蓝上尉，他是这里警察局的主管，我想还是先找瑞利大夫好些，他知道要怎么办。” 柯尔曼先生点点头，他那爱开玩笑的神气吓得连影子都没有了。他只是露出年纪很轻、非常害怕的样子，他一句话没说、跳上车子，便开走了。 爱莫特先生有些不敢确定地说：“我想我们应该各处搜索一下。”他提高嗓门叫：“爱布拉希姆！” “有！” “ 那个仆人跑了过来，爱莫特先生用阿拉伯语同他讲话，他们很兴备地谈了一会，那仆人似乎在竭力否认一件事。 最后，爱莫特先生很困惑地说：“他说今天下午这里没一个人，没有任何陌生的人，我猜想那个人一定是趁他们没看见的时候溜进来的。” “当然是这样的，”麦加多太太说，“他是趁他不注意的时候溜进来的。” “是的。”爱莫特先生说。 由于他的声音含有不敢确定的意味，所以我就好奇地望着他。 他转过身去同那个洗罐子的孩子阿布都拉说话，他问他一句话。 那孩子激动地详细回答他。 爱莫特先生的双眉皱得更紧，显得更加困惑。 “我不了解，”他低声地喃喃自语，“我一点儿也不了解。” 但是，他没告诉我他不了解什么。 Chapter 11 An Odd Business Chapter 11 An Odd Business I’m adhering as far as possible to telling only my personal part in the business. I pass over the events of the next two hours, the arrival of Captain Maitland and the police and Dr Reilly. There was a good deal of general confusion, questioning, all the routine business, I suppose. In my opinion we began to get down to brass tacks about five o’clock when Dr Reilly asked me to come with him into the office. He shut the door, sat down in Dr Leidner’s chair, motioned me to sit down opposite him, and said briskly: ‘Now, then, nurse, let’s get down to it. There’s something damned odd here.’ I settled my cuffs and looked at him inquiringly. He drew out a notebook. ‘This is for my own satisfaction. Now, what time was it exactly when Dr Leidner found his wife’s body?’ ‘I should say it was almost exactly a quarter to three,’ I said. ‘And how do you know that?’ ‘Well, I looked at my watch when I got up. It was twenty to three then.’ ‘Let’s have a look at this watch of yours.’ I slipped it off my wrist and held it out to him. ‘Right to the minute. Excellent woman. Good, that’s thatfixed. Now, did you form any opinion as to how long she’d been dead?’ ‘Oh, really, doctor,’ I said, ‘I shouldn’t like to say.’ ‘Don’t be so professional. I want to see if your estimate agrees with mine.’ ‘Well, I should say she’d been dead at least an hour.’ ‘Quite so. I examined the body at half-past four and I’m inclined to put the time of death between 1.15 and 1.45. We’ll say half-past one at a guess. That’s near enough.’ He stopped and drummed thoughtfully with his fingers on the table. ‘Damned odd, this business,’ he said. ‘Can you tell me about it—you were resting, you say? Did you hear anything?’ ‘At half-past one? No, doctor. I didn’t hear anything at half-past one or at any other time. I lay on my bed from a quarter to one until twenty to three and I didn’t hear anything except that droning noise the Arab boy makes, and occasionally Mr Emmott shouting up to Dr Leidner on the roof.’ ‘The Arab boy—yes.’ He frowned. At that moment the door opened and Dr Leidner and Captain Maitland came in. Captain Maitland was a fussy little man with a pair of shrewd grey eyes. Dr Reilly rose and pushed Dr Leidner into his chair. ‘Sit down, man. I’m glad you’ve come. We shall want you. There’s something very queer about this business.’ Dr Leidner bowed his head. ‘I know.’ He looked at me. ‘My wife confided the truth to Nurse Leatheran. We mustn’t keep anything back at this juncture, nurse, so please tell Captain Maitland and Dr Reilly just what passed between you and my wife yesterday.’ As nearly as possible I gave our conversation verbatim Captain Maitland uttered an occasional ejaculation. When I had finished he turned to Dr Leidner. ‘And this is all true, Leidner—eh?’ ‘Every word Nurse Leatheran has told you is correct.’ ‘What an extraordinary story!’ said Dr Reilly. ‘You can produce these letters?’ ‘I have no doubt they will be found amongst my wife’s belongings.’ ‘She took them out of the attaché-case on her table,’ I said. ‘Then they are probably still there.’ He turned to Captain Maitland and his usually gentle face grew hard and stern. ‘There must be no question of hushing this story up, Captain Maitland. The one thing necessary is for this man to be caught and punished.’ ‘You believe it actually is Mrs Leidner’s former husband?’ I asked. ‘Don’t you think so, nurse?’ asked Captain Maitland ‘Well, I think it is open to doubt,’ I said hesitatingly. ‘In any case,’ said Dr Leidner, ‘the man is a murderer—and I should say a dangerous lunatic also. He mustbe found, Captain Maitland. He must. It should not be difficult.’ Dr Reilly said slowly: ‘It may be more difficult than you think…eh, Maitland?’ Captain Maitland tugged at his moustache without replying. Suddenly I gave a start. ‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘but there’s something perhaps I ought to mention.’ I told my story of the Iraqi we had seen trying to peer through the window, and of how I had seen him hanging about the place two days ago trying to pump Father Lavigny. ‘Good,’ said Captain Maitland, ‘we’ll make a note of that. It will be something for the police to go on. The man may have some connection with the case.’ ‘Probably paid to act as a spy,’ I suggested. ‘To find out when the coast was clear.’ Dr Reilly rubbed his nose with a harassed gesture. ‘That’s the devil of it,’ he said. ‘Supposing the coast wasn’t clear—eh?’ I stared at him in a puzzled fashion. Captain Maitland turned to Dr Leidner. ‘I want you to listen to me very carefully, Leidner. This is a review of the evidence we’ve got up to date. After lunch, which was served at twelve o’clock and was over by five and twenty to one, your wife went to her room accompanied by Nurse Leatheran, who settled her comfortably. You yourself went up to the roof, where you spent the next two hours, is that right?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Did you come down from the roof at all during that time?’ ‘No.’ ‘Did anyone come up to you?’ ‘Yes, Emmott did pretty frequently. He went to and fro between me and the boy, who was washing pottery down below.’ ‘Did you yourself look over into the courtyard at all?’ ‘Once or twice—usually to call to Emmott about something.’ ‘On each occasion the boy was sitting in the middle of the courtyard washing pots?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘What was the longest period of time when Emmott was with you and absent from the courtyard?’ Dr Leidner considered. ‘It’s difficult to say—perhaps ten minutes. Personally I should say two or three minutes, but I know by experience that my sense of time is not very good when I am absorbed and interested in what I am doing.’ Captain Maitland looked at Dr Reilly. The latter nodded. ‘We’d better get down to it,’ he said. Captain Maitland took out a small notebook and opened it. ‘Look here, Leidner, I’m going to read to you exactly what every member of your expedition was doing between one and two this afternoon.’ ‘But surely—’ ‘Wait. You’ll see what I’m driving at in a minute. First Mr and Mrs Mercado. Mr Mercado says he was working in his laboratory. Mrs Mercado says she was in her bedroom shampooing her hair. Miss Johnson says she was in the living-room taking impressions of cylinder seals. Mr Reiter says he was in the dark-room developing plates. Father Lavigny says he was working in his bedroom. As to the two remaining members of the expedition, Carey and Coleman, the former was up on the dig and Coleman was in Hassanieh. So much for the members of the expedition. Now for the servants. The cook—your Indian chap—was sitting immediately outside the archway chatting to the guard and plucking a couple of fowls. Ibrahim and Mansur, the house-boys, joined him there at about 1.15. They both remained there laughing and talking until 2.30—by which time your wife was already dead.’ Dr Leidner leaned forward. ‘I don’t understand—you puzzle me. What are you hinting at?’ ‘Is there any means of access to your wife’s room except by the door into the courtyard?’ ‘No. There are two windows, but they are heavily barred—and besides, I think they were shut.’ He looked at me questioningly. ‘They were closed and latched on the inside,’ I said promptly. ‘In any case,’ said Captain Maitland, ‘even if they had been open, no one could have entered or left the room that way. My fellows and I have assured ourselves of that. It is the same with all the other windows giving on the open country. They all have iron bars and all the bars are in good condition. To have got into your wife’s room, a stranger musthave come through the arched doorway into the courtyard. But we have the united assurance of the guard, the cook and the house-boy that nobody did so.’ Dr Leidner sprang up. ‘What do you mean? What do you mean?’ ‘Pull yourself together, man,’ said Dr Reilly quietly. ‘I know it’s a shock, but it’s got to be faced. The murderer didn’t come from outside—so he must have come from inside. It looks as though Mrs Leidner must have been murdered by a member of your own expedition.’ 第十一章 一件怪事 11 我现在一定要把这件事与我有关的部分说明白。这以后的两小时中，梅特蓝上尉和他的警察人员，以及瑞利大夫来了。详细情形，我们不去谈它。我想，不外乎乱糟糟的，警察盘问每个人，都是些例行的话。 我想，我们开始谈实际的问题，大约是在五点钟。瑞利大夫要我同他到办公室里去。 他关上门，坐在雷德纳博士的椅子上，做一个手势要我在他对面坐下，然后轻快地说：“护士小姐，现在让我们研究吧，这里有一件很怪的事。 我整理一下袖口，好奇地望着他。 他取出一个记事簿。 “这是我自己要知道的，现在告诉我，雷德纳博士发现他太太死亡的确切时间是几点？” “ “那时候是差一刻三点钟，几乎是一分也不多，一分也不少。”我说。 “你怎么知道是那个时候？” “啊，我起来的时候看过我的表，那时候是差二十分三点。” “让我看看你的表。” 他把我的手腕上的表脱下来，拿到眼前看一看。 “一分不差，好极了。好吧，原来是那么准确。据你想，她死去有多久？” 、 “啊，大夫，实在，”我说，“我不想表示意见。” “不要这样固守自己的身分说话吧，我想知道你的估计同我的是不是一致。” “那么，我想她至少已经死去一小时了。” “很对。我在四点半的时候检查尸首，我想她死亡的时候是在一点一刻到一点四十五分之间，我们不妨根据猜测说：是在一点半，那就差不多。” 他停顿一下，用手指敲着桌子。 “怪极了，这件事。”他说，“你能告诉我一点钟时是什么情形吗？你说，你在休息吗？你听见什么吗？” “在一点半吗？没听见什么，大夫。我没在一点半听到什么，也没在其他任何时间听见什么。从一点半到差二十分三点，我都躺在床上，除了那阿拉伯男孩发出那一串单调面沉闷的歌声，还有爱莫特先生偶尔对屋顶上雷德纳博士喊话的声音以外，我没听到什么声响。” “那个阿拉伯孩子——是的。” 他皱着眉。 就在那时候，门开了，雷德纳博士和梅特蓝上尉走进来。 梅特蓝上尉是个大惊小怪的、个子很小的人，有一双很机警的蓝眼睛。 瑞利大夫起身，把雷德纳博士推到他的座位上坐下。 “老兄，坐下吧。我很高兴你来了，我们需要你帮忙的，这件事有些地方非常奇怪。” 雷德纳博士低着头。 “我知道，”他望着我，“内人已经把实话透露给列瑟兰护士了。护士小姐，到了这个节骨眼儿上，你就不必隐瞒什么了，所以请你把昨天你同内人谈话的经过告诉梅特蓝上尉和瑞利大夫吧。” 我把我们的谈话尽可能一字不差地告诉了他们。 梅特蓝上尉偶尔会发出一声惊叹。我说完的时候，他转身对雷德纳博士说： “这都是实在的吗，雷德纳，啊？” “列瑟兰护士对你们说的话，句句都是实在的。” “这是多不寻常的经过！”瑞利大夫说，“你可以把那些信拿出来吗？” “我相信那些信可以在内人的遗物中找到。” “她把那些信由桌上的一个公事包里取出来了。” “那么，也许还在那里。” 他转过身去对梅特蓝上尉说话；他那平常很温和的面孔变得冷酷而且严厉。 “现在这件事也不必秘而不宣了、梅特蓝上尉。唯一必须要办的就是这个人一定要逮到，并且受到惩处。” “你以为真是雷德纳太太的前夫干的了？”我问。 “你不这样想吗、护士小姐？”梅特蓝上尉问。 “嗯，我以为仍有可疑之处。”我犹豫地说。 “无论怎么说，”雷德纳博士说，“那个人是一个凶手——我想也是一个危险的疯子。梅特蓝上尉，这个人一定得我到。 一定的！这应该是不难的。” 瑞利大夫慢吞吞的说：“这也许比你想得难。是吗？梅特蓝？” 梅特蓝捻捻他的小胡子，没有回答。 我突然想起一件事，惊得一跳。 “抱歉，”我说，“有一件事我应该提一提。” 我把我们看到那个伊拉克人想向窗内窥探的事说了一遍。也告诉他们两天之前看到他在这附近逗留，想盘问拉维尼神父的事。 “好，”梅特蓝上尉说，“我们会把这件事记下来，这是警察可以依据的事，那个人与这案子也许有牵连。” “他也许接受敌人的钱，当间谍，”我这样提示，“来调查什么时候可以安全行事。” 瑞利大夫困扰地摸摸鼻子。 “那就难说了，”他说，“假若是有危险呢——呃？” 我不解的目不转睛地望着他。 梅特蓝上尉转身对雷德纳说： “我要你非常仔细地听我所说的话，雷德纳。这是在检查中我们得到的最新证据，午饭是十二点开的，到差二十五分上点的时候已经吃完。饭后，你的太太由列瑟兰护士陪着回房休息，并且护士已经把她舒舒服服的安顿好了。你自己到屋顶去。你就在那里消磨以后两小时的时间。对吗？” “是的。” “在那一段时间之内，你从屋顶上下来过吗？” “没有。” “有什么人上去找你吗？” “有的。爱莫特常常上来，他总是来来去去在我和那个孩子之间走动，那孩子在下面洗罐子。” “你自己朝院子里望过吗？” “有一两次——通常是有事叫爱莫特的时候。” “每一次那孩子都坐在院子中央洗罐子吗？” “对了。” “爱莫特同你在一起，不在院里的时候，最长有多久？” 雷德纳博士考虑一下。 “这就难说了——也许是十分钟吧，我个人的想法大概是两三分钟。但是，根据我的经验，当我专心工作，很感兴趣的时候，我是不大会有准确的时间感。” 梅特蓝上尉对瑞利大夫望望，后者点点头。于是，他就说：“我们最好着手先把这个说清楚。” 梅特蓝上尉掏出一个记事册，打开来看。 “雷德纳，请注意。我现在准备把今天下午一时至二时之间，你们考察团里每个人究竟做些什么念给你听。” “但是，实在——” “等等，一分钟以后，你就可以知道我的用意何在了。我们先谈谈麦加多夫妇：麦加多先生说他在研究室工作；麦加多太太说她在她的卧房洗头。詹森小姐说她在起居室忙着将古亚述人的圆筒形石印都印在粘土片上，瑞特先生说他在摄影窒冲底片，拉维尼神父说他正在卧室工作。至于考察团其余的两个人贾雷和柯尔曼，前者在挖掘场，后者在城里，考察团员的情形已经说了不少。现在看看仆役们在做些什么，厨子——就是你们那个印度人——正在拱门外面坐着，一面拔鸡毛，一面同那个守卫聊天儿。爱布拉希姆和曼塞——那两个家仆——大约一点十五分的时候也来和他一块儿聊。他们俩又说又笑地在那里停留到两点三十分一到了那个时候，你的太太己经死了。” 雷德纳博士倾身向前说：“我不明白——你的话令人莫名其妙，你在暗示什么？” “你太大的房间，除了开向院子的那个门以外，还有什么办法进去？” “没有。那里有两个窗子，但是都装有铁栅，而且，我想都是关着的。” 他露出疑问的神气望望我。 “窗子都关着，而且在里面闩着。”我立刻说。 “无论如何，”梅特蓝上尉说，“即使是开着的，没有人能由那里进去然后再出来。我和我的同事都相信，所有其他朝田野方面的窗子都是一样的，都有铁条，而且毫无损坏。一个陌生人要想走进你太大的卧房，一定得由拱门走进院子。但是，守卫、厨子和家仆都异口同声地对我说，确实没有人那么做。” 雷德纳博士跳起来。 “你这话是什么意思？你这话是什么意思？” “镇静些，老兄，”瑞利大夫镇定地说，“我知道这是一个大打击，但是，你必须面对打击，那凶手没有从外面进来。所以，他必定是由里面来的。看情形，雷德纳太太想必是让你这考察团里的人谋杀的。” Chapter 12 ‘I Didn’t Believe…’ Chapter 12 ‘I Didn’t Believe…’ ‘No. No!’ Dr Leidner sprang up and walked up and down in an agitated manner. ‘It’s impossible what you say, Reilly. Absolutely impossible. One of us? Why, every single member of the expedition was devoted to Louise!’ A queer little expression pulled down the corners of Dr Reilly’s mouth. Under the circumstances it was difficult for him to say anything, but if ever a man’s silence was eloquent his was at that minute. ‘Quite impossible,’ reiterated Dr Leidner. ‘They were all devoted to her, Louise had such wonderful charm. Everyone felt it.’ Dr Reilly coughed. ‘Excuse me, Leidner, but after all that’s only your opinion. If any member of the expedition had disliked your wife they would naturally not advertise the fact to you.’ Dr Leidner looked distressed. ‘True—quite true. But all the same, Reilly, I think you are wrong. I’m sure everyone was fond of Louise.’ He was silent for a moment or two and then burst out: ‘This idea of yours is infamous. It’s—it’s frankly incredible.’ ‘You can’t get away from—er—the facts,’ said Captain Maitland. ‘Facts? Facts? Lies told by an Indian cook and a couple of Arab house-boys. You know these fellows as well as I do, Reilly, so do you, Maitland. Truth as truth means nothing to them. They say what you want them to say as a mere matter of politeness.’ ‘In this case,’ said Dr Reilly dryly, ‘they are saying what we don’twant them to say. Besides, I know the habits of your household fairly well. Just outside the gate is a kind of social club. Whenever I’ve been over here in the afternoon I’ve always found most of your staff there. It’s the natural place for them to be.’ ‘All the same I think you are assuming too much. Why shouldn’t this man—this devil—have got in earlier and concealed himself somewhere?’ ‘I agree that that is not actually impossible,’ said Dr Reilly coolly. ‘Let us assume that a stranger didsomehow gain admission unseen. He would have to remain concealed until the right moment (and he certainly couldn’t have done so in Mrs Leidner’s room, there is no cover there) and take the risk of being seen entering the room and leaving it—with Emmott and the boy in the courtyard most of the time.’ ‘The boy. I’d forgotten the boy,’ said Dr Leidner. ‘A sharp little chap. But surely, Maitland, the boy musthave seen the murderer go into my wife’s room?’ ‘We’ve elucidated that. The boy was washing pots the whole afternoon with one exception. Somehow around half-past one—Emmott can’t put it closer than that—he went up to the roof and was with you for ten minutes—that’s right, isn’t it?’ ‘Yes. I couldn’t have told you the exact time but it must have been about that.’ ‘Very good. Well, during that ten minutes, the boy, seizing his chance to be idle, strolled out and joined the others outside the gate for a chat. When Emmott came down he found the boy absent and called him angrily, asking him what he meant leaving his work. As far as I can see, your wife must have been murdered during that ten minutes.’ With a groan Dr Leidner sat down and hid his face in his hands. Dr Reilly took up the tale, his voice quiet and matter-of-fact. ‘The time fits in with my evidence,’ he said. ‘She’d been dead about three hours when I examined her. The only question is—who did it?’ There was a silence. Dr Leidner sat up in his chair and passed a hand over his forehead. ‘I admit the force of your reasoning, Reilly,’ he said quietly. ‘It certainly seemsas though it were what people call “an inside job”. But I feel convinced that somewhere or other there is a mistake. It’s plausible but there must be a flaw in it. To begin with, you are assuming that an amazing coincidence has occurred.’ ‘Odd that you should use that word,’ said Dr Reilly. Without paying any attention Dr Leidner went on: ‘My wife receives threatening letters. She has reason to fear a certain person. Then she is—killed. And you ask me to believe that she is killed—not by that person—but by someone entirely different! I say that that is ridiculous.’ ‘It seems so—yes,’ said Reilly meditatively. He looked at Captain Maitland. ‘Coincidence—eh? What do you say, Maitland? Are you in favour of the idea? Shall we put it up to Leidner?’ Captain Maitland gave a nod. ‘Go ahead,’ he said shortly. ‘Have you ever heard of a man called Hercule Poirot Leidner?’ Dr Leidner stared at him, puzzled. ‘I think I have heard the name, yes,’ he said vaguely. ‘I once heard a Mr Van Aldin speak of him in very high terms. He is a private detective, is he not?’ ‘That’s the man.’ ‘But surely he lives in London, so how will that help us?’ ‘He lives in London, true,’ said Dr Reilly, ‘but this is where the coincidence comes in. He is now, not in London, but in Syria, and he will actually pass through Hassanieh on his way to Baghdad tomorrow!’ ‘Who told you this?’ ‘Jean Berat, the French consul. He dined with us last night and was talking about him. It seems he has been disentangling some military scandal in Syria. He’s coming through here to visit Baghdad, and afterwards returning through Syria to London. How’s that for a coincidence?’ Dr Leidner hesitated a moment and looked apologetically at Captain Maitland. ‘What do you think, Captain Maitland?’ ‘Should welcome co-operation,’ said Captain Maitland promptly. ‘My fellows are good scouts at scouring the countryside and investigating Arab blood feuds, but frankly, Leidner, this business of your wife’s seems to me rather out of my class. The whole thing looks confoundedly fishy. I’m more than willing to have the fellow take a look at the case.’ ‘You suggest that I should appeal to this man Poirot to help us?’ said Dr Leidner. ‘And suppose he refuses?’ ‘He won’t refuse,’ said Dr Reilly. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Because I’m a professional man myself. If a really intricate case of, say, cerebro-spinal meningitis comes my way and I’m invited to take a hand, I shouldn’t be able to refuse. This isn’t an ordinary crime, Leidner.’ ‘No,’ said Dr Leidner. His lips twitched with sudden pain. ‘Will you then, Reilly, approach this Hercule Poirot on my behalf?’ ‘I will.’ Dr Leidner made a gesture of thanks. ‘Even now,’ he said slowly, ‘I can’t realize it—that Louise is really dead.’ I could bear it no longer. ‘Oh! Doctor Leidner,’ I burst out, ‘I—I can’t tell you how badly I feel about this. I’ve failed so badly in my duty. It was my job to watch over Mrs Leidner—to keep her from harm.’ Dr Leidner shook his head gravely. ‘No, no, nurse, you’ve nothing to reproach yourself with,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s I, God forgive me, who am to blame…I didn’t believe—all along I didn’t believe…I didn’t dream for one moment that there was any realdanger…’ He got up. His face twitched. ‘I let her go to her death…Yes, I let her go to her death—not believing—’ He staggered out of the room. Dr Reilly looked at me. ‘I feel pretty culpable too,’ he said. ‘I thought the good lady was playing on his nerves.’ ‘I didn’t take it really seriously either,’ I confessed. ‘We were all three wrong,’ said Dr Reilly gravely. ‘So it seems,’ said Captain Maitland. 第十二章 “我不相信” 12 “不会！不会！” 雷德纳博士跳起身来，激动地来回踱着。 “瑞利，你所说都是不可能的。绝对不可能，是我们当中的一个人吗？哎呀！我们考察团里每个人都深深爱着露伊思。” 瑞利大夫的嘴角下垂，有一点点奇怪的表示。在这样的情况之下，他很难说什么话。但是，假若一个人的沉默会是意味深长的，那么，他在这片刻间的沉默，便是那样了。 “这完全是不可能的。”雷德纳博士反复地说，“他们都很爱她，露伊思是那么可爱，人人都觉得出。” 瑞利大夫轻咳一声。 “请原谅，雷德纳，可是那毕竟只是你的想法。假者你们团里有一个人不喜欢你太太，他自然不会对你大肆宣扬这件事的。” 雷德纳博士露出很痛苦的样子。 “确实，确实如此。但是，瑞利，我仍然以为你说错了，我相信每个人都喜欢露伊思。”他沉默片刻，然后突然说：“你这个想法差劲儿极了，坦白地说——这是难以相信的。” “你不能离开——哦——事实。”梅特蓝上尉说。 “事实？事实？那是一个印度厨师和两个阿拉伯仆人的谎话。瑞利，对这些家伙，你像我一样了解。你也一样，梅特蓝。 对他们来说，实话实说是毫无意义的，他们都说你要他们说的话，那只是礼貌的问题。” “就这个情形说，”瑞利大夫冷冷地说，“他们所说的，是我们不要他们说的话。你们这里的人有什么习惯，我相当明白。 就在大门以外，有一个社交俱乐部一类的地方。每逢我在下午到这里的时候，我总会发现你们这里的人十之八九都在那儿，那是他们自然会常去的地方。” “我仍然以为你猜想得太过分。这个人——这个恶魔——为什么不能早一点进来，藏在什么地方呢？” “我同意，这实际上并非不可能，”瑞利大夫冷冷地说，“现在让我们假定：一个生人确实趁人不能看见的时候进来了。那么，他就不得不藏起来（他必定不会藏在雷德纳太太房里，因为那里没有东西可以掩蔽），一直等到适当的机会，冒着可能让人看见的危险，走进她的房间，再走出来——而且，在大部分时间内，爱莫特与那个孩子都在院子里。” “那个孩子，我把那个孩子忘掉了，”雷德纳博士说，“那是个机灵的孩子。但是，梅特蓝，那个孩子一定会看见那个凶手到我太太房里呀。” “我们已经把这一点说明白。除掉一件事情以外，那孩子整个下午都在洗罐子。在一点半左右——爱莫特不能说出一个更接近的时刻——他到屋顶上同你在一起十分钟——我说得对，是不是？” “是的，要是叫我说，除了大约是在那个时候，我就不能说出一个确切的时间。” 、 “很好。那么，在那十分钟之间，那孩子抓到机会偷偷懒便荡出去，到大门外面和其他几个人聊天儿。等爱莫特下来的时候，他发现那孩子不在，便很生气的叫他回来，问他离开他的工作是什么意思。照我看来，你的太太就是在那十分钟遇害的。” 雷德纳博士哼了一声坐了下来，以手掩面。 瑞利大夫接下来说，他的声音沉着而且实际。 “时间和我的证据刚刚吻合，”他说，“我检验尸体的时候，她已经死去大约三小时。唯一的疑问是——是谁干的？” 接着是一阵沉默。雷德纳博士的背笔直地坐在他的椅子上，一双手掩住前额。 “瑞利，我承认你的推论很有说服力，”他镇定下来说，“这件事仿佛是一般人称为‘里面人干的事’，但是，我觉得这样推断，总有一个地方是错误的。这种推断似乎很有道理，但是其中有很多疑问。首先，你的猜想是一种令人惊异的偶合。” “奇怪，你会用‘偶合’这两个字。”瑞利大夫说。 雷德纳博士没注意他的话，继续说下去：“我的太太接到恐吓信，她有足够的理由对于某一个人非常畏惧。后来——她遇害了，而你却要我相信，她不是那个人害死的，而是另外一个迥然不同的人！我认为那样说是可笑的。” “似乎是这样——是的。”瑞利大夫思索着说。 瑞利大夫望望梅特蓝上尉：“偶合，啊？梅特蓝你觉得如何？你赞成这种想法吗？我们就让他这样想吗？” 梅特蓝上尉点点头。 “说下去，”他简单地说。 “你听说一个叫赫尔克里•波洛的人吗？雷德纳？” “是的，我想我听到过这个名字。”他毫无表情地说，“有一次我听一位凡•奥丁先生推崇他，他是一个私家侦探，是不是？” “就是这个人。” “但是，他住在伦敦，怎么能帮助我们呢？” “他住在伦敦，不错。”瑞利大夫说，“可是，巧合就在这里。 他现在不在伦敦，而是在叙利亚。事实上，他明天要经过哈沙尼到巴格达去。” “谁告诉你的？” “是法国领事商伯拉，他昨晚同我们一起吃饭时谈到他，他好像正在叙利亚清查一件军事方面的舞弊案子。他预计明天经过这里去巴格达，然后再经过叙利亚回伦敦，这不是偶合吗？” 雷德纳博士犹豫片刻，然后露出抱歉的神气瞧瞧梅特蓝上尉。 “你觉得怎么样？梅特蓝上尉？” “欢迎合作。”梅特蓝上尉立刻说，“我的弟兄们对于搜索四乡，调查阿拉伯人血族方面的不和案件，都是好侦探。但是，雷德纳，坦白地说，调查你太太这个案子就不是我们的本行。 这案件非常可疑，我倒非常原意让这个人来看看。” “你的意思是要我去请这个叫波洛的人来帮助我们吗？”雷德纳博士说，“假若他不答应呢？” “他不会不答应的。”瑞利大夫说。 “你怎么知道？“ “因为我自己是内行。假若有一个复杂的病例，譬如说，脑脊髓膜炎：有人请我参加会诊，我就不能拒绝。这不是一个普通的犯罪行为呀，雷德纳。” “是的。”雷德纳博士说，他的嘴唇很痛苦地抽搐着。 “那么，瑞利，你代表我去和这个赫尔克里•波洛接洽，好吗？” “好的。” 雷德纳博士表示很感谢他的样子。 “即使现在，”他慢慢地说，“我也不能相信露伊思真的死了。” 我再也忍不住了。 “啊，雷德纳博士！”我突然说，“我——我实在难以表达我对这件事多么难受，我太不尽职了，我的责任是照顾雷德纳太太，使她不要受到伤害。” 雷德纳博士严肃地摇摇头。 “不，不，护士小姐。你不必自己责备自己，”他慢慢地说，“应该责备的是我——愿主宽恕我！我以前不相信——我一直不相信——我片刻都不会想到会有真正的危险。”他站起来、面孔不住抽搐。“是我让她走向死路的，是我让她走向死路的——始终不相信——” 他瞒跚地走出房门。 瑞利大夫瞧瞧我。 “我也觉得有过失，”他说，“我以为她是故意逗逗他，看他怕不怕。” “我也没把那件事看得实在多严重。”我也承认。 “我们三个人都错了，”瑞利大夫严肃地说。 “似乎就是如此。”梅特蓝上尉说。