英语听力：三十九级台阶.the.thirty-nine.steps 10

　　10 Meetings by the sea

　　It was a fine，blue June morning，and I was outside a hotel in Bradgate looking out to sea. There was a ship out there，and I could see that it was a warship of some kind. Mac Gillivray had been in the navy and knew the ship. I sent a message to Sir Walter to ask if it could help us if necessary.

　　After breakfast we walked along the beach under the Ruff. I kept hidden， while MacGillivray counted the six lots of steps in the cliff.

　　I waited for an hour while he counted，and when I saw him coming towards me with a piece of paper，I was very nervous.

　　He read out the numbers. 'Thirty-four，thirty-five，thirtynine，forty-two，forty-seven，and twenty-one. 'I almost got up and shouted.

　　We walked back to Bradgate quickly. MacGillivray had six policemen sent down from London. He then went off to look at the house at the top of the thirty-nine steps.

　　The information he brought back was neither good nor bad.

　　The house was called Trafalgar House，and belonged to an old man called Appleton. He was there at the moment. The neighbours didn't know him well. MacGillivray had then gone to the back door of the house， pretending to be a man selling sewing machines . There were three servants，and he spoke to the cook . He was sure she knew nothing. Next door a new house was being built， which might be a good place to watch from；and on the other side the house was empty. Its garden was rather wild，and would also be a good place to hide in.

　　I took a telescope and found a good hiding place from which to watch the house. I watched for a time，and saw an old man leave the house and walk into the back garden at the top of the cliff. He sat down to read a newspaper，but he looked out to sea several times. I thought he was probably looking at the warship I watched him for half an hour，until he went back into the house for lunch. Then I went back to the hotel formine.

　　I wasn't feeling very confident. That old man might be the old man I had met in the farmhouse on the moors. But there are hundreds of old men in houses by the sea，and he was probably just a nice old man on his holidays.

　　After lunch I sat in front of the hotel and looked out to sea；and then I felt happier，because I saw something new. A yacht came up the coast and stopped a few hundred metres off the Ruff MacGillivray and I went down to the harbour， got a boat，and spent the afternoon fishing.

　　We caught quite a lot of fish， and then，at about four o'clock，went to look at the yacht. It looked like a fast boat and its name was the Ariadne. I spoke to a sailor who was cleaning the side of the boat， and he was certainly English. So was the next sailor we spoke to，and we had quite a long conversation about the weather.

　　Then，suddenly，the men stopped talking and started work again，and a man in uniform walked up. He was a pleasant，friendly man， and asked us about the fishing in very goodEnglish. But I was sure that he was not English himself.

　　I felt a little more confident after seeing him， but as we went back to Bradgate，I was still not sure. My enemies had killed Scudder because they thought he was a danger to them. They had tried to kill me-for the same reason. So why hadn' t they changed their escape plans？They didn't know about Scudder's black notebook， but why stay with the same plan when there was a chance that I knew about it？It seemed a stupid risk to take.

　　I decided to spend an hour or two watching Trafalgar House and found a good place where I could look down on the garden. I could see two men playing tennis. One was the old man I had already seen；the other was a younger， fatter man. They played well，and were clearly enjoying themselves like two businessmen on holiday. I have never seen anything more harmless. They stopped for a drink， and I asked myself if I wasn't the most stupid man alive. These were two normal， boring Englishmen，not the clever murderers that I had met in Scotland.

　　Then a third man arrived on a bicycle. He walked into the garden and started talking to the tennis players. They were all laughing in a very English way. Soon they went back into the house，laughing and talking，and I stayed there feeling stupid.

　　These men might be acting，but why？ They didn't know I was watching and listening to them. They were just three perfectly normal，harmless Englishmen.

　　* * *

　　But there were three of them：and one was old，and one was fat，and one was thin and dark. And a yacht was waiting a kilometre away with at least one German on it. I thought about Karolides lying dead，and all Europe trembling on the edge of war， and about the men waiting in London，hoping that I would do something to stop these spies.

　　I decided there was only one thing to do. I had to continue and just hope for the best. I didn't want to do it. I would rather walk into a room full of wild animals than walk into that happy English house and tell those three men they were under arrest. How they would laugh at me！

　　Then I remembered something that an old friend in Africa once told me. He had often been in trouble with the police. He once talked about disguises with me， and he said that the way somebody looked was not the real secret. He said that what mattered was the'feel'of somebody. If you moved to completely different surroundings，and if you looked comfortable and at home there，you would be very difficult to recognize. My friend had once borrowed a black coat and tie and gone to church and stood next to the policemen who was looking for him. The policemen had only seen him shooting out the lights in a pub，and he did not recognize him in a church.

　　Perhaps these people were playing the same game. A stupid man tries to look different；a clever man looks the same and is different.

　　My friend had also told me this：'If you want to disguise yourself， you must believe that you're the person you're pretending to be. 'That would explain the game of tennis. These men weren't acting；they just changed from one life to another，and the new life was as natural as the old. It is the secret of all great criminals.

　　It was now about eight o'clock. I went back to seeMacGillivray and we arranged where the other policeman would hide. After that I went for a walk along the coast，looking at the peaceful people on holiday. Out at sea I could see lights on the Ariadne，and on the warship，and， further away，the lights of other ships. Everything seemed so normal and peaceful that I couldn't believe the three men were my criminals. But I turned and walked towards Trafalgar House at about half past nine.

　　MacGillivray's men were，I supposed，in their hiding places. The house was quiet， but I could just hear the sound of voices；the men were just finishing their dinner Feeling very stupid，I walked up to the door and rang the bell.

　　When a servant opened the door， I asked for Mr Appleton and was shown in. I had planned to walk straight in and surprize the men into recognizing me. But I started looking at all the pictures on the wall There were photographs of groups of English schoolboys and lots of other things that you only find in an English home. The servant walked in front of me into the dining-room and told the men who I was，and I missed the chance of surprise.

　　When I walked in， the old man stood up and turned round to meet me. The other two turned to look at me. The old man was perfectly polite.

　　'Mr Hannay？'he said. 'Did you wish to see me？'

　　I pulled up a chair and sat down.

　　'I think we've met before，'I said， 'and I guess you know why I'm here. '

　　The light in the room was not bright， but I think they all looked very surprised.

　　'Perhaps，perhaps，'said the old man. ' I'm afraid I don' t remember faces very well. You'll have to tell me why you're here，because I really don' t know. '

　　'Well，'I said， although I didn't really believe what I was saying，'I have come to arrest all three of you. '

　　'Arrest！'said the old man in surprise. 'Arrest！What for？'

　　'For the murder of Franklin Scudder in London on the 23rd of May. '

　　'I've never heard the name before，' said the old man.

　　One of the others spoke. 'That was the Langham Place murder. I read about that in the newspapers. But you must be mad！Where do you come from？'

　　'Scotland Yard，'I said.

　　Then there was silence for a moment until the fat one started to talk，hesitating a lot between words.

　　'Don't worry， uncle. It's all a stupid mistake. Even the police make mistakes. I wasn't even in England on the 23rd，and Bob was in hospital. You were in London，but you can explain what you were doing. '

　　'You're right，Percy，it's easy. The 23rd！That was the day after Agatha's wedding. Yes，I had lunch with Charlie Symons and in the evening I went to the Cardwells'. Why， they gave me that！'He pointed to a cigar box on the table.

　　'I think you will see that you have made a mistake，'the thin dark man said to me politely. 'We are quite happy to help Scotland Yard，and we don't want the police to make stupid mistakes. That's so， isn't it， uncle？'

　　'Certainly，Bob. 'The old man looked happier now. 'Certainly we'll help if we can. But this is madness. ' 'This will make our friends laugh，'said the fat man. 'They think we're boring and that nothing ever happens to us. Hebegan to laugh very pleasantly.

　　'Yes， it's a good story. Really， Mr Hannay，I should be angry，but it's too funny. You really frightened me！ You looked too serious. I thought I'd killed somebody in my sleep！'

　　They weren't acting. There was nothing false about them. At first I wanted to apologize and leave. Then I stood up and went to the door and turned on the main light. I looked at the three faces.

　　I saw nothing to help me. One was old and bald， one was fat，one was dark and thin. They could be the three men I had seen in Scotland，but I could see nothing to prove it.

　　'Well，'said the old man politely，'are you sure now that we are not murderers，or are you going to take us to the police station？'

　　There was nothing to do except call in the men outside and arrest them， or say I had made a mistake and leave. And I couldn't decide.

　　'While we're waiting，let's have a game of cards，' said the fat one. 'It will give Mr Hannay time to think，and we need a fourth player. Will you play？'

　　I agreed，but everything suddenly seemed unreal. We went into another room，where there was a table and cards. The window was open and the moon was shining on the cliffs and the sea. We played and they talked. I'm usually quite good at cards，but that night I played extremely badly.

　　* * *

　　Then something woke me up.

　　The old man put his cards down for a moment and sat back in his chair with his hand on his knee. It was a movement I had seen before，in that farm on the moors， with two servants with guns behind me. Suddenly my head cleared and I looked at the three men differently.

　　It was ten o'clock.

　　The three faces seemed to change in front of my eyes. The thin dark man was the murderer. His knife had killed Scudder. The fat man had been the First Sea Lord last night.

　　But the old man was the worst. How had I ever thought he looked kind and friendly？ His eyes were cold and evil and frightening. I went on playing， but I hated him more and more with every card.

　　'Look at the time，Bob，said the old man. 'Don't forget you've got a train to catch. He must be in London tonight，'he said， turning to me. His voice now sounded completely false.

　　'I'm afraid he must wait，'I said.

　　'Oh， no！'said the thin man. 'I thought you'd finished with that. I must go. You can have my address. '

　　'No，'I said，'you must stay. '

　　I think then they realized they were in real trouble. I looked at the old man and I saw his eyes hood like a hawk.

　　I blew my whistle.

　　Immediately the lights went out. Someone held me to my chair.

　　'Quickly，Franz，'somebody shouted in German，'the boat，the boat！'I saw two policemen on the grass behind the house.

　　The thin dark man jumped through the window and was across the grass before anybody could stop him. I was fighting the old man，and more police came into the room. I saw them holding the fat man. But the thin man was at the top of the steps. I waited，holding the old man，for the time it would take the thin man to get to the sea.

　　Suddenly，the old man escaped from me and ran to the wall of the room. From underneath the ground I heard an explosion. The cliff and the steps had been blown up.

　　The old man looked at me with wild， crazy eyes.

　　'He is safe，'he cried. 'You cannot follow him. The Black Stone has won. '

　　This old man was more than just a paid spy. Those hooded eyes shone with a deep，burning love for his country. But as the police took him away，I had one more thing to say.

　　'Your friend has not won. We put our men on the Ariadne an hour ago. '

　　* * *

　　Seven weeks later，as all the world knows，we went to war. I joined the army in the first week. But I did my best work， I think， before I put on uniform.

　　10 海边相遇

　　六月的清晨天空一碧如洗，我站在布拉盖特一家旅馆外面眺望着大海。海上有一艘船，看得出来是某种军舰。麦吉里夫雷当过海军知道是什么军舰。我给瓦尔特爵士送了个信，问必要时这艘军舰能否帮助我们。

　　早饭后我们在拉福下面的海滩上散步。麦吉里夫雷数着峭壁上的六条台阶，而我则始终隐蔽着。

　　他数台阶让我等了一个小时，看到他手里拿着一张纸向我走来时，我感到忐忑不安。

　　他念数字：“三十四、三十五、三十九、四十二、四十七、二十一。”我差点跳起来狂喊。

　　我们马上回布拉盖特。麦吉里夫雷从伦敦调来了六个警察。然后他离开去看那三十九级台阶顶上的房子。

　　他带回来的消息不好也不坏。那所房子叫特拉法尔加别墅，主人是个叫阿普尔顿的老人。此时他就在那里。左邻右舍都不太认识他。麦吉里夫雷当时已到了房子的后门，装作缝纫机推销员。那里有三个仆人，他找厨师讲话。他搞确实了那女厨师一无所知。邻家正在建造新房，那是瞭望的绝好地方；房子的另一边是一片空地。房子的庭院相当荒芜，但是个藏身的理想之处。

　　我拿着一架望远镜，找了个隐蔽的好地方，从那里监视那所房子。望了一会儿，看到一个老头离开房子走进峭壁顶上的后庭院。他坐下来读报，但时不时向大海张望。我想他在看那艘军舰。我观察了他半个小时，直到他回房去吃午饭。后来我也回旅馆吃午饭了。

　　我感到心里没底。这个老头有可能是我在荒原的农舍里见过的那个。可是海边住着数百个老人，他也有可能不过是正在度假的一位慈祥老者而已。

　　午饭后我坐在旅馆前看着大海；后来我看到了一样以前没见过的东西，我感到来了精神。一艘快艇向岸边驶来，停在离拉福数百米的地方。我和麦吉里夫雷赶到港口，搞了一只船，整个下午都在那儿钓鱼。

　　我们钓到不少鱼，后来，大约四点钟，我们过去看那艘快艇。看起来像是一艘摩托艇，船名叫阿里亚德妮。水手正在洗船，我过去和他攀谈，他肯定是英国人。我们又如此这般地和另一个水手谈起来，就天气说了一大堆。

　　后来这两个人突然闭口，又开始干起活来，一个穿制服的人走了过来。他讨人喜欢，态度友好，向我们打听钓鱼的事，说一口漂亮的英语。但我肯定他本人不是英国人。

　　看到他以后我心里有点信心了，但回到布拉盖特后仍然感到没把握。敌人杀斯卡德尔因为他们认为他对他们构成了威胁。出于同样的理由他们也要杀我。那么为什么他们不改变逃跑计划呢？他们不了解斯卡德尔黑笔记本里的内容，但是我可能知道，既然有这种可能，为什么还坚持原计划呢？冒这种险显得太愚蠢了。

　　我决定花一两个小时监视特拉法尔加别墅，找到一处地方，从那可以俯视庭院。我看到两个人正在打网球。一个是那个老头，我已经见过；另一个比较年轻，胖一点。他们玩得很好，显得非常开心，俨然是两个度假的商人。他们看起来再于人无害不过了。他们停手喝点水，我暗自问道自己是不是活着的天字第一号笨蛋。这不过是两个平平常常的、没劲的英国人，哪里是我在苏格兰遇到的精明的杀人凶手。

　　后来第三个人骑着自行车过来了。他走进庭院和玩网球的两个说起话来。他们大笑着，样子非常像英国人。一回儿，他们又说又笑地回房去了，我呆在那儿，觉得傻乎乎的。这些人可能在做戏，但为什么？他们并不知道我在监视、偷听他们。他们只不过是几个平凡不过、于人无伤的英国人罢了。

　　这里一共三个人：一个上年纪的，一个胖点的，另一个瘦而黑的。游艇就等在一公里之外，上面至少有一个德国人。我想到卡罗里德斯横尸在地，全欧洲在战争边缘上战栗，想到伦敦的人们还等着，希望我有所作为以制止这些间谍活动。

　　我认为能做的只有一件。我必须坚持下去并怀着很大的希望。我不想那么做。我宁可走进满是野兽的屋子也不愿去那座喜气洋洋的英国人的房子，对那三个人说他们被捕了。他们会怎么笑话我！

　　我想起在非洲时一个老朋友给我讲过一件事。过去他常和警察闹矛盾。有一次他和我谈起伪装的事来，他说一个人表面如何并不是真正的秘密。他还说重要的是那个人给人的感觉。如果你到一个完全陌生的环境，而你看起来泰然自若像在家一样，那人们就很难认出你。我那个朋友曾经借了一件黑大衣和一条领带，穿戴起来，上了教堂，就站在正要抓他的警察旁边。这位警察过去只见过他在小酒店如何拿枪打灯泡，而在教堂却认不出他来。

　　也许这些人玩的正是这一套把戏。愚蠢的人总想显得与众不同；聪明人看上去无异于常人，却实际与众不同。

　　我朋友还告诉我：“如果你想掩饰自己，就得确信你就是你所装扮的角色。”他们打网球就说明了这点。这些人并不是在做戏，不过是从一种生活转变为另一种生活，而新生活过得和旧生活一样自然。这就是所有大罪犯的诀窍。

　　现在是八点左右。我回去找麦吉里夫雷，安排其他警察在何处隐蔽。完事之后我沿海边散步，看着人们安安定定地度假。我可以看到海上阿里亚德妮的灯光，还可以看到那艘军舰的以及更远处其它船只的灯光。一切看着那么正常和平静，我简直不能相信那三个人是罪犯。九点半左右，我转身回特拉法格别墅。

　　我估计麦吉里夫雷的人已经进入隐蔽位置。别墅一派宁静，只能听见人们说话的声音；他们刚刚吃完饭。我觉得自己笨头笨脑的，走到门口，按响了门铃。

　　仆人开了门，我求见阿普尔顿先生，于是被请进去。我原打算径直闯进去使这些人出乎意料从而露出本来就认得我的真相。但进了屋我就开始看着墙上那些照片。那是些小学生的照片以及许多其它只有在英国人家里才能见到的陈设。那个仆人走在我前面进了餐厅，向餐厅里的人介绍我，这样一来，就失去了吓他们一跳的机会。

　　我一进来老头就站起来转过身迎接我。另外两个则扭过头看我。老人家彬彬有礼。

　　“哈内先生吗？”他说。“您要找我吗？”

　　我拉过一把椅子坐下来。

　　“我想我们以前见过，”我说。“而且我猜您也知道我为什么到这儿来。”

　　屋里的灯光虽然不亮，但我想还看得出所有的人都很吃惊。

　　“也许，也许，”老头说。“恐怕我记人的本领不怎么样。我确实不知道您为什么到这儿来，您只好告诉我了。”

　　“行，”我说，对我说的自己也不大有把握，“我到这儿来逮捕你们三个。”

　　“逮捕！”老头惊讶地说。“逮捕！为什么？”

　　“因为五月二十三号伦敦的富兰克林·斯卡德尔谋杀案。”

　　“我以前从未听说过这个名字。”老头说。

　　另外一个开口了。“就是兰厄姆谋杀案。我在报纸上读到过。您肯定是疯了。您是哪来的？”

　　“苏格兰场，”我说。

　　然后是短暂的寂默，接着那个胖子开始说话，话语间吞吞吐吐。

　　“叔叔，别担心。这完全是个愚蠢的错误。警察也会闹错的。二十三号我不在英格兰，鲍勃在住院。您在伦敦，可是您能解释清楚您那时正干什么。”

　　“珀西，你说的不错，这很容易。二十三号！那是阿加莎举行婚礼的第二天。对，我和查理·西蒙斯一起吃的午饭，晚上去卡德韦尔家了。真是的，这就是他们给的！”他指着桌子上的雪茄盒子。

　　“我想您会明白是您搞错了。”那个黑而瘦的人客客气气地说。“我们很高兴帮苏格兰场的忙，而且也不想让警察犯愚蠢的错误。叔叔，是不是？”

　　“当然是，鲍勃。”老头看上去来精神了。

　　“当然了，能帮上忙我们会帮的。可是现在这种做法是太过份了。”

　　“这会博得朋友们一笑的。他们总觉得我们乏味，生活没有一点风波。”说着他开心地笑了。

　　“对，这是个不错的故事。哈内先生，说实话，我本该生气，但这事太可笑了。您确实吓了我一跳！看上去那么一本正经。我还以为睡觉的时候把什么人给杀了呢！”

　　他们没有做戏。也没有漏洞。我第一个想法是道歉，然后走人。后来我站起来走到门口把大灯打开。看着这三个人的面孔。

　　看不出什么有用的线索。一个又老又秃，一个胖，一个瘦而黑。可能是我在苏格兰见到的那三个，但是找不出证据来。

　　“我说，”老头彬彬有礼地说。“现在您是否相信我们不是杀人犯，或者还要把我们带到警察局去？”

　　我现在要么把外边的人叫进来把他们逮捕，要么承认说我错了，然后离开，除此无法可想。但我一时下不了决心。

　　“我们一边等着一边玩牌吧。”那个胖子说。“给哈内先生点时间想想，我们三缺一。您玩吗？”

　　我答应玩，而这一切转眼之间似乎变得似是而非了。我们到另一间屋，屋里有张桌子，有牌。窗户开着，月光闪烁在峭壁和海面上。我们玩着牌，他们说着话。平时我牌玩得相当不错，可那天晚上打得糟透了。

　　后来有件事使我警醒过来。

　　老头把牌放下，呆了一会儿，仰身靠着椅背，把手放在膝盖上。这个动作我以前见过，在荒原的农舍里，被两个仆人在背后拿枪逼着。突然间我的头脑清醒起来，再看这三位就大不相同了。

　　十点整。

　　这三张面孔在眼前似乎变了样。那个瘦而黑的就是杀人凶手。他用刀杀了斯卡德尔。那个胖子是昨天晚上装第一海军大臣的人。

　　而最坏的是那个老头。刚才我怎么会认为他看着挺和气、友好呢？他那双眼睛阴森、邪恶、恐怖。我继续打着牌，但是每打一张牌对他的憎恨就增加一分。

　　“看着点时间，鲍勃，”老头说。“别忘了你得赶火车。今天晚上他必须到伦敦。”他说着转过脸来对着我。他的声音这会儿听起来全然是装腔作势。

　　“恐怕他得留下来。”我说。

　　“啊，那不行！”那个瘦子说。“我以为这事已经完了。我必须得走。我可以给您留下地址。”

　　“不行，”我说。“您必须留下。”

　　我觉得此时他们已觉察到真的遇到麻烦了。看着那个老头，他的眼睛像猫头鹰似地眯起来。

　　我吹起了口哨。

　　所有的灯突然熄灭。有人把我按在椅子上。

　　“快点，弗朗茨，”是谁用德语喊，“船！船！”我看到房子后面的草地上有两个警察。

　　那个黑而瘦的人乘着没人来得及挡他，从窗户跳出去，跑过草地。我正在与老头搏斗时，警察纷纷冲进屋来。看见他们擒住了那个胖子。但瘦子已经跑到台阶沿上。我手里抓着老头，等着瘦子跑到海边。

　　突然老头从我手里脱身而出，向墙壁冲去。一声爆炸从地下响起。峭壁和台阶统统飞了上天。

　　老头看着我，眼光里闪着野蛮和疯狂。

　　“他没事，”他大喊。“你抓不住他。黑石赢定了。”

　　这个老头不是仅仅为钱而作间谍的。那双眯缝的眼睛闪烁着对他的国家深沉而热烈的爱。警察要带他走的时候，我又说了一句话。

　　“您的朋友没赢。一小时前我们已经把人布置在阿里亚德妮上了。”

　　正如众所周知，七周以后，我们参战了。开战第一个星期我就参了军。然而我觉得在没穿军装之前我就已经取得自己的最佳战绩了。