Lombard said briskly: “Have something to eat. We’ve got to eat, you know.”
隆巴德轻快地说：“弄点东西吃。要知道，我们得吃饭啊。”
Vera said: “I shall never eat tongue again.”
维拉说：“以后我绝不再吃口条了。”
Once again they went into the kitchen. Again they opened a tin of tongue. They ate mechanically, almost without tasting.
他们再一次走进厨房，打开一听口条罐头，机械地吞进肚里，几乎尝不出味道来。
Armstrong said: “How did it happen, I wonder?”
阿姆斯特朗说：“我真奇怪这事是怎么发生的？”
They finished the meal. They sat round the kitchen table staring at each other.
他们结束了这顿饭，围坐在厨房里的桌子旁边，彼此愣愣地望着。
Blore nodded. “That’s what he said… And now he’s dead!”
布洛尔点点头。“这正是法官说的话……但是他已经死了！”
Lombard swore. He said: “A damned clever double cross! That stuff was planted in Miss Claythorne’s room and it worked just as it was intended to. Every one dashes up there thinking she’s being murdered. And so — in the confusion — some one — caught the old boy off his guard.”
隆巴德咒骂道：“手段真是又狡猾又毒辣！那玩意是故意放在克莱索恩小姐的房间里的。我们果然受骗了，以为有人想谋杀她，匆匆忙忙地冲上楼。于是，在一片混乱中，老法官冷不防遭了毒手。”
Blore said: “Only four of us now… Who’ll be the next?”
布洛尔说：“现在只剩我们四个了……下一个该轮到谁？”
Blore said heavily: “What do we do now?”
布洛尔沉重地说：“现在我们干什么？”
Armstrong stared. He said, almost mechanically: “We must be very careful –” and stopped.
阿姆斯特朗睁大眼睛，没有怎么想就说：“我们必须十分小心……”他忽然又住了嘴。
They had carried Mr. Justice Wargrave up to his room and laid him on the bed. Then they had come down again and had stood in the hall looking at each other.
他们把劳伦斯·沃格雷夫先生抬到他的房间里，放在床上，然后回到客厅，站在那儿瞠目结舌，面面相觑。
Blore said: “I’ve no objection…”
布洛尔说：“我没意见……”
Lombard said: “Might as well. No good sitting watching each other.”
隆巴德说：“顶好都去睡。坐在这儿互相瞪眼睛不是件好事。”
They moved to the door. Blore said: “I wonder where that revolver is now?…”
他们向门口走去。布洛尔说：“我真想知道那枝手枪到哪儿去了……”
Blore said: “I know…”
布洛尔说：“我知道……”
Vera said: “I haven’t the least doubt…”
维拉说：“我一点也不怀疑……”
Vera staggered to her feet. She said: “I feel awful. I must go to bed… I’m dead beat.”
维拉摇摇晃晃地站起来说：“我感觉有些不好过。我得去睡觉……我已经精疲力竭了。”
Blore said: “Why didn’t any one hear the shot?”
布洛尔说：“为什么没有人听到枪声呢？”
Armstrong said slowly: “I suppose I do know really…”
阿姆斯特朗慢慢地说：“我想我确实知道……”
Lombard shook his head. “Miss Claythorne was screaming, the wind was howling, we were running about and calling out. No, it wouldn’t be heard.” He paused. “But that trick’s not going to work again. He’ll have to try something else next time.”
隆巴德摇摇头。“当时克莱索恩小姐在那儿尖叫，风声也很大，加上我们自己跑来跑去叫喊着。不可能，枪声不可能听得到。”他停了一下，“可这种诡计不能再使用了，他下一次得试试别的手段了。”
Again they all looked at each other…
他们又都互相望着……
Armstrong said: “Four of us, and we don’t know which…”
阿姆斯特朗说：“我们四个人，可我们不知道哪一个……”
Blore said: “He probably will.” There was an unpleasant tone in his voice. The two men eyed each other.
布洛尔说：“他也许会试的。”他的语调显得很不愉快。这两个人互相乜斜着眼睛看着。
The doctor murmured: “The best thing to do — although I doubt if any of us will sleep.”
医生喃喃地说：“最好如此——虽然我怀疑有谁能睡得着。”
Philip Lombard said: “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea now…”
菲利普·隆巴德说：“我认为我有个非常好的主意……”
Then, as though at a signal, each one stepped into the room and pulled the door shut. There were sounds of bolts and locks, of the moving of furniture.
然后，仿佛有一声号令，每个人都踏进房间把门闭上。一阵插门栓、上锁和移动家具的声音。
He went over to the bed, placing his wrist-watch on the table by the bed. Then he opened the drawer of the table.
他把手表摆在床头桌上，然后打开桌子的抽屉。
As yet she could not summon the courage to put it out. She was afraid of the dark…
她没有勇气吹熄它，她害怕黑暗……
Philip Lombard drew a breath of relief as he turned from adjusting a chair under the door handle. He strolled across to the dressing-table.
菲利普·隆巴德在门把手下面放了一把椅子把门抵住，转过身来长嘘了一口气。
They went up the stairs.
他们走到楼上。
The next move was a little like a scene in a farce. Each one of the four stood with a hand on his or her bedroom door handle.
接下去的动作有些像喜剧中的镜头，四个人一齐站着把手放在自己寝室的门把上。
His sudden wolf-like smile flashed out. He undressed quickly.
他狼一样的笑容突然在脸上一闪，接着就很快地把衣服脱掉走到床边。
Four frightened people were barricaded in until morning.
四个吓得丧魂失魄的人把自己锁在里面等待明天。
Vera Claythorne lay in bed. The candle still burned beside her.
维拉·克莱索恩小姐躺在床上，蜡烛仍然在她身边燃着。
He stood there, staring down at the revolver that was inside it…
他一下子愣在那里，盯着抽屉里他那把失去的手枪……
By the light of the flickering candle he studied his face curiously. He said softly to himself: “Yes, this business has got you rattled all right.”
他悠闲地走到梳妆台前，借着闪烁的蜡烛光好奇地审视起自己的面容来。“是啊，这件事可把你吓得够呛。”他低声说。
She told herself again and again: “You’re all right until morning. Nothing happened last night. Nothing will happen tonight. Nothing can happen. You’re locked and bolted in. No one can come near you…”
她一遍又一遍地对自已说：“你到明天早上不会出什么问题。昨天晚上没有发生什么，今天晚上也不会。什么事也不会发生了，你已经把门插好，还上了锁。没有人能够走近你……”
And she thought suddenly: “Of course! I can stay here! Stay here locked in! Food doesn’t really matter! I can stay here — safely — till help comes! Even if it’s a day — or two days…”
她突然想到，“当然！我可以待在这儿不出去！锁好门待在屋子里，等着人们来救我。即使一整天——或者两天——”
Was it her voice that had answered?
回答的声音是她自己的吗？
She’d begin to think of Cornwall — of Hugo — of — of what she’d said to Cyril.
她开始回想西里尔——回想起雨果——回想起她对西里尔说的话。
Horrid whiny little boy, always pestering her…”Miss Claythorne, why can’t I swim out to the rock? I can. I know I can.”
一个哭哭啼啼叫人讨厌的孩子，老是缠着她……“克莱索恩小姐，为什么我不能游到那块礁石上去？我能，我知道我能。”
“Of course you can, Cyril, really. I know that.”
“你当然可以，西里尔。真的，我知道你能游。”
“Well, you see, Cyril, your mother gets so nervous about you. I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow you can swim out to the rock. I’ll talk to your mother on the beach and distract her attention. And then, when she looks for you, there you’ll be standing on the rock waving to her! It will be a surprise!”
“听我说，西里尔，你母亲老是那么神经紧张。我告诉你，明天你可以游到礁石那儿去，我在沙滩上和你母亲聊天，吸引住她的注意力。然后，当她找你的时候，你可以站在那边岩石上向她挥手！肯定会使她大吃一惊！”
“Can I go then, Miss Claythorne?”
“那么说我能去了，克莱索恩小姐？”
“Stay here. Yes, but could she stay here? Hour after hour — with no one to speak to, with nothing to do but think…”
“也没关系。是啊，可是我能待下去吗？一小时又一小时地……没有一个人可以谈话，没事可做，除了想事儿……”
They’d believe her all right. Cyril often told stories. He was an untruthful child. Cyril would know, of course. But that didn’t matter… And anyway nothing would go wrong. She’d pretend to swim out after him. But she’d arrive too late… Nobody would ever suspect…
人们会相信她的。西里尔经常扯谎。他不是一个诚实的孩子。西里尔当然会明白。不过这不要紧……不管怎么说是不会出什么差错的。她将装作游泳去追他，但没能来得及……不会有人怀疑的……
Yes, but supposing it wasn’t? Supposing it went wrong? Cyril might be rescued in time. And then — then he’d say, “Miss Claythorne said I could…”
是的，可是假设不是这样呢？假如中间出了点什么差错呢？西里尔有可能及时被救起来。那时……那时他会说：“克莱索恩小姐说我能游。”
Well, what of it? One must take some risk! If the worst happened she’d brazen it out. “How can you tell such a wicked lie, Cyril? Of course I never said any such thing!”
啊，那怎么办？必须冒点儿风险！如果最坏的事情发生，她就厚着脸皮不认账。“你怎么能说这么无耻的谎话，西里尔？我可没这么说过。”
“Oh, good egg, Miss Claythorne! That will be a lark!”
“噢，您是好人，克莱索恩小姐！这一定很好玩儿！”
She’d said it now. Tomorrow! Hugo was going to Newquay. When he came back — it would be all over…
她已经把话说出。明天！雨果要去纽奎，等他回来——一切都己过去了……
Hugo…
雨果……
Was that why he had gone off after the inquest so hurriedly?
是因为这一点他才在审讯之后仓促出走吗？
Had Hugo suspected? Was that why he had looked at her in that queer far-off way…? Had Hugo known?
雨果怀疑了吗？是因为这一点雨果才用那么奇怪的、遥远的目光看着她吗？雨果明白了吗？
He hadn’t answered the one letter she had written to him…
他没有回答她写给他的信。
Vera turned restlessly in bed. No, no, she mustn’t think of Hugo. It hurt too much! That was all over, over and done with… Hugo must be forgotten…
维拉在床上辗转反侧。不，不，她决不能再想雨果了。这太令人伤心了。这一切全都过去了，结束了……
And now there were four of them. The girl, Lombard, Armstrong and himself.
现在只剩下他们四个了。那个姑娘，隆巴德，阿姆斯特朗和他自己。
She stared up at the ceiling, stared at the big black hook in the middle of the room.
她凝望着天花板，凝望着房间正中的大黑钩子。
“We must be very careful…”
“我们必须格外小心……”
For all his sagacity, for all his caution and astuteness, the old judge had gone the way of the rest.
老法官，尽管聪明机警，小心翼翼，还是同别人一样，落了个那么悲惨的下场。
Self-righteous smug old hypocrite. Sitting up in court feeling like God Almighty. He’d got his all right… No more being careful for him.
沾沾自喜，自以为是的老伪君子，坐在法庭上就以为自己是全能的上帝了。他把他解决了……再不用担他的心了。
Blore snorted with a kind of savage satisfaction. “What was it the old geezer had said?”
布洛尔带着满意的神情耸了耸鼻子。“老头子说什么来着？”
She didn’t like that hook on the ceiling. It drew your eyes, fascinated you… a big black hook…
她不喜欢天花板上的这个钩子，它吸引你的视线，蛊惑你……一个大黑钩子。
Why, this evening, had she suddenly felt that Hugo was in the room with her?
一定要忘掉雨果……为什么今天晚上她忽然觉得雨果好像也在这间屋里呢？
He felt no inclination to sleep. The menace was coming very near now… Six out of ten!
他毫无睡意，危险已经迫在眉睫……十个里面已经死了六个！
The seaweed had hung from that…
那些海草就是从这上面垂下来的……
She’d never noticed that hook before.
她以前没有注意到这个钩子。
Ex-Inspector Blore sat on the side of his bed. His small eyes, red-rimmed and bloodshot, were alert in the solid mass of his face. He was like a wild boar waiting to charge.
退职警官布洛尔坐在床边。他的一双小眼睛眼圈发红，布满血丝，在一脸横肉里闪着警惕的光芒。他的样子活像一头准备进攻的野猪。
She shivered as she remembered that cold clammy touch on her neck…
当她回忆起她脖子上冰冷粘湿的感觉时，不由打了个冷战……
Very soon another of them would go… But it wouldn’t be William Henry Blore. He’d see to that all right.
没有多久他们中另一个就要丧命……但那不会是他，不会是亨利·布洛尔。
(But the revolver… What about the revolver? That was the disturbing factor — the revolver!)
（可是那枝手枪……手枪现在怎么样了？这确实令人不安……手枪！）
Blore sat on his bed, his brow furrowed, his little eyes creased and puckered while he pondered the problem of the revolver…
布洛尔坐在床上，双眉紧皱，在他苦苦思索手枪问题时，小眼睛眯成了一条缝……
In the silence he could hear the clocks strike downstairs.
在一片寂静中可以听到楼下的时钟滴达滴达走动的声音。
Midnight. He relaxed a little now — even went so far as to lie down on his bed. But he did not undress.
午夜，他紧张的心情松弛了一些，甚至可以在床上躺下了，不过他并没有脱衣服。
He lay there, thinking. Going over the whole business from the beginning, methodically, painstakingly, as he had been wont to do in his police officer days. It was thoroughness that paid in the end.
他躺在床上思考着，把全部事件一个细节一个细节地从头到尾思考了一遍，就像他在警察厅工作时的情况一样。他知道要想理出个头绪来就必须把这件事想透。
The candle was burning down. Looking to see if the matches were within easy reach of his hand, he blew it out.
蜡烛快燃尽了。他看到火柴就放在手边，便把蜡烛吹熄了。
Strangely enough, he found the darkness disquieting. It was as though a thousand age-old fears awoke and struggled for supremacy in his brain. Faces floated in the air — the judge’s face crowned with that mockery of grey wool — the cold dead face of Mrs. Rogers — the convulsed purple face of Anthony Marston…
真奇怪，他发现黑暗也不能使他宁静，仿佛沉睡了几千年的恐惧复活了，正竭尽一切力量想要主宰他的头脑。各种面孔在他眼前浮动着，法宫那张戴着一个可笑的灰色假发的面孔，罗杰斯太太的一副冰冷的毫无生气的模样，安东尼·马斯顿那张痉挛发青的面庞……
Another face — pale, spectacled, with a small straw-coloured moustache…
还有一张面孔，面色苍白，戴着眼镜，生着褐色的小胡子——
A face he had seen sometime or other — but when? Not on the island. No, much longer ago than that.
这是一张他曾经见过的面孔，但究竟是什么时候？肯定不是在这座小岛上。
It came to him with a real shock. Landor!
他心里猛地一跳，想起来了，那是兰德！
Odd to think he’d completely forgotten what Landor looked like. Only yesterday he’d been trying to recall the fellow’s face, and hadn’t been able to.
说来也怪，他居然完全忘却了兰德的相貌。昨天他还努力回忆这个人的样子，可就是想不起来。
(The revolver. What had become of the revolver? That was much more important…)
（手枪，手枪哪去了？这更为重要……）
Blore’s thoughts were cut short. He sat up on the bed, suddenly alert. For he had heard a sound — a very faint sound — somewhere outside his bedroom door.
布洛尔的思绪中断了。他突然一惊，立即从床上坐了起来。他听到一个声音，一个十分轻微的声音，是从房间外什么地方传来的。
Landor had had a wife — a thin slip of a woman with a worried face. There’d been a kid too, a girl about fourteen. For the first time, he wondered what had become of them…
兰德有个妻子，一个身材瘦削，面带愁容的女人。他还有一个孩子，一个十四岁左右的女儿。他第一次考虑到兰德遗属现在的处境。
Of course!
对了！
The more he thought about it the more puzzled he was… He didn’t understand this revolver business…
他越想越乱，手枪这事无法理解……
Funny, that he couldn’t put a name to it… Silly sort of face really — fellow looked a bit of a mug.
不，是很久以前的事了。奇怪，他竟记不起这个人的名字了……相貌生得很蠢——看上去是个笨伯。
And now here it was, every feature clear and distinct, as though he had seen it only yesterday…
现在他自己出现了，那么逼真，仿佛不久以前他还见过这人似的……
Somebody in the house had got that revolver…
说不定是房子里哪个人杷这枝枪拿走了……
Downstairs a clock struck one.
楼下时钟敲了一响。
Noiselessly, in spite of his heavy build, he dropped off the bed and with two strides was standing by the door listening.
尽管他身体粗壮，动作却异常灵活。他无声无息地溜下了床，两步就蹿到了门口，站在那儿屏息听着。
There was some one moving about in the darkened house.
有人在黑暗中走动。
The perspiration broke out on his forehead. Who was it, moving secretly and silently along the corridors? Some one who was up to no good, he’d bet that!
他的前额渗出了冷汗。这能是谁呢？是谁悄悄地沿着走廊走动？他敢断定这个人一定不怀好意！
Some one creeping about stealthily in the night…
有人在黑夜中偷偷地活动……
He listened — but the sound was not repeated.
他听见了——虽然声音只响了一阵就没有了。
But to open his door would be the action of a fool. Very likely that was exactly what the other was waiting for. He might even have meant Blore to hear what he had heard, counting on him coming out to investigate.
但是，把门打开是件愚蠢透顶的事，说不定这正是那个人所希望的。他已经算准布洛尔会听到声音，开门出来观望。
But the sound did not come again. Nevertheless Blore was convinced that he was not mistaken. He had heard a footfall just outside his door. The hair rose slightly on his scalp. He knew fear again…
可是那声音已经没有了。尽管如此，他坚信他没有听错，确实有人从他门口走过去。他感到毛骨悚然，恐怖又一次向他袭来……
And now a new temptation assailed him. He wanted, desperately, to go out and investigate. If he could only see who it was prowling about in the darkness.
他心中闪过一个新的念头。他想不顾一切地冲出去，看个究竟。只要他能看清是谁在黑暗中活动就行了。
Blore stood rigid — listening. He could hear sounds everywhere now, cracks, rustles, mysterious whispers — but his dogged realistic brain knew them for what they were — the creations of his own heated imagination.
布洛尔呆呆地站在那儿倾听着。他能听到各种各样的声音——树枝的折裂声，树叶的飒飒声，还有一种神秘的低语声——可是他那现实的头脑知道这是怎么回事——
They came softly along the corridor (both Lombard’s and Armstrong’s rooms were farther from the stair-head than his). They passed his door without hesitating or faltering.
脚步声越来越近（隆巴德和阿姆斯特朗的房间离楼梯口都比他的房间远），在他的门口并没有停留就过去了。
And then suddenly he heard something that was not imagination. Footsteps, very soft, very cautious, but plainly audible to a man listening with all his ears as Blore was listening.
这只是他心情紧张自己幻想出来的声音。忽然，他听到了并非想像的声音，非常轻、非常小心的脚步声，但还是隐隐可辨。
And as they did so, Blore made up his mind. He meant to see who it was! The footsteps had definitely passed his door going to the stairs. Where was the man going?
布洛尔把心一横，决定出去看看到底是什么人！脚步声清晰地从他的门口经过走向楼梯。这个人要到哪儿去？
When Blore acted, he acted quickly, surprisingly so for a man who looked so heavy and slow. He tiptoed back to the bed, slipped matches into his pocket, detached the plug of the electric lamp by his bed, and picked it up winding the flex round it. It was a chromium affair with a heavy ebonite base — a useful weapon.
布洛尔看上去虽然又笨重又迟钝，但是一旦行动起来，却出奇地敏捷。他蹑手蹑脚走回床边，把火柴塞进衣袋，拔下床边的台灯插头，然后把电线缠在灯台上——一件可手的武器。
He sprinted noiselessly across the room, removed the chair from under the door handle and with precaution unlocked and unbolted the door. He stepped out into the corridor. There was a faint sound in the hall below; Blore ran noiselessly in his stockinged feet to the head of the stairs.
他悄没声地迅速走回门口，搬开门把手下的椅子，小心翼翼地拧开锁，把门拉开。他在走廊里站了一会儿。楼下大厅里传来一阵习习索索的声音。布洛尔光着脚跑到楼梯口。
At that moment he realized why it was he had heard all these sounds so clearly. The wind had died down completely and the sky must have cleared. There was faint moonlight coming in through the landing window and it illuminated the hall below.
直到这个时候他才恍然大悟，为什么他能够听得这么清楚。原来风已经完全平息，天放晴了。微弱的月光透过楼梯上的窗户照亮了楼下的客厅。
Blore had an instantaneous glimpse of a figure just passing out through the front door.
布洛尔在一瞬间看到一个黑影穿过大门，一下子消失到户外。
In the act of running down the stairs in pursuit, he paused.
他刚要下楼去追，马上又站住了。
But what the other man didn’t realize was that he had made a mistake, had delivered himself neatly into Blore’s hands.
或许那个人没想到他本人犯了个大错，把自己完全暴露出来。
Once again, he had nearly made a fool of himself! This was a trap, perhaps, to lure him out of the house!
差一点又当了傻瓜！也许，这是引诱他走出家门的陷阱！
For, of the three tenanted rooms upstairs, one must now be empty. All that had to be done was to ascertain which!
因为现在楼上有人居住的三个房间里，必定空了一间。现在只要查明哪间空了出来就成了。
Blore went swiftly back along the corridor. He paused first at Dr. Armstrong’s door and tapped. There was no answer.
布洛尔迅速回到走廊。他首先在阿姆斯特朗门口站住，敲了敲门，没有回答。
He waited a minute, then went on to Philip Lombard’s room. Here the answer came at once. “Who’s there?”
他待了片刻，又来到菲利普·隆巴德门口，里面立刻传来回答：“谁啊？”
“It’s Blore. I don’t think Armstrong is in his room. Wait a minute.”
“是我，布洛尔。我想阿姆斯特朗不在屋里了。稍等一下。”
Blore said: “That means he locked it on the outside and took it with him.”
布洛尔说：“也就是说，他从外面锁的门，把钥匙带走了。”
He went on to the door at the end of the corridor. Here he tapped again. “Miss Claythorne. Miss Claythorne.”
他又到走廊尽头那扇房门，也敲了敲：“克莱索恩小姐，克莱索恩小姐。”
Vera’s voice, startled, answered him: “Who is it? What’s the matter?”
传出维拉恐慌的声音：“谁？什么事？”
“It’s all right, Miss Claythorne. Wait a minute. I’ll come back.”
“别怕，克莱索恩小姐，等一等，我马上就来。”
Blore explained rapidly. Lombard’s eyes lit up. “Armstrong — eh? So he’s our pigeon!”
布洛尔急忙把他发现的事情解释了一遍。隆巴德的眼睛一亮。“阿姆斯特朗，是吗，是吗？那么说是他了，这只小鸽子！”
He moved along to Armstrong’s door. “Sorry, Blore, but I don’t take anything on trust.”
他走到阿姆斯特朗的门口。“对不起，布洛尔，我对什么都不能轻信。”
He rapped sharply on the panel. “Armstrong — Armstrong.”
他重重地敲了几下房门。“阿姆斯特朗，阿姆斯特朗。”
Lombard dropped to his knees and peered through the key-hole. He inserted his little finger gingerly into the lock. He said: “Key’s not in the door on the inside.”
隆巴德跪在地上从钥匙孔里往里窥视了一下，然后谨慎地把小手指伸进锁孔。他说：“钥匙不在门里面。”
He raced back to Lombard’s room. The door opened as he did so. Lombard stood there. He held a candle in his left hand. He had pulled on his trousers over his pyjamas. His right hand rested in the pocket of his pyjama jacket. He said sharply: “What the hell’s all this?”
他来到隆巴德的门口。房门打开了，隆巴德站在那儿，左手擎着一根蜡烛，睡衣塞在裤子里面，右手插在睡衣口袋里，警惕地说：“出了什么鬼事情？”
There was no answer.
没有回答。
Philip nodded: “Ordinary precaution to take. We’ll get him, Blore… This time, we’ll get him! Half a second.”
菲利普点点头说：“干得很谨慎。我们去找他，布洛尔，这次我们可要抓住他，用不了一分钟。”
“We’re hunting Armstrong. He’s out of his room. Whatever you do, don’t open your door. Understand?”
“我们去追阿姆斯特朗，他出去了。不论有什么情况也不要开门，懂吗？”
Lombard said: “Good.”
隆巴德说：“那就好。”
Blore stopped dead on the doorstep. His face changed.
布洛尔猛地停在门口，面色变了。
“If Armstrong comes along and says that I’ve been killed, or Blore’s been killed, pay no attention. See? Only open your door if both Blore and I speak to you. Got that?”
“如果阿姆斯特朗回来说我死了或布洛尔被杀了，不要理他，明白吗？除非我和布洛尔一起叫你，否则别开门。明白了吗？”
“Yes.”
“嗯。”
Philip Lombard raced down the stairs chuckling. He said: “That’s where you’re wrong.” He undid the front door, remarking: “Latch pushed back — so that he could get in again easily.” He went on: “I’ve got that revolver!” He took it half out of his pocket as he spoke. “Found it put back in my drawer tonight.”
菲利普咯咯一笑，跑下楼梯。他说：“这你可错了。”开大门的时候，他评论说：“你看，插销推了进去，他想这样回来的时候可以方便些。”又说：“那枝枪已经在我这里了。”一边说，一边把手枪从衣袋里抽出一半。“这是今天晚上在我抽屉里发现的。”
He raced along to Vera’s room. “Vera.”
他朝着维拉的房间喊：“维拉。”
Vera said: “Yes. I’m not a complete fool.”
维拉说：“明白了，我还不至于那么没脑子。”
He joined Blore. He said: “And now — after him! The hunt’s up!”
他走回来对布洛尔说：“现在——跟上他！要快！”
Philip Lombard saw it. He said impatiently: “Don’t be a damned fool, Blore! I’m not going to shoot you! Go back and barricade yourself in if you like! I’m off after Armstrong.”
菲利普看出这一点，不耐烦地说：“别犯浑，布洛尔！我不会对你开枪的！如果你要愿意你就回去把自己锁在屋子里。我去找阿姆斯特朗！”
Blore said: “We’d better be careful. He’s got a revolver, remember.”
布洛尔说：“我们顶好当心些，记住，他手里有一枝手枪。”
“Yes, I understand.”
“哦，我懂。”
He started off into the moonlight. Blore, after a minute’s hesitation, followed him. He thought to himself: “I suppose I’m asking for it. But after all –“
他冲进外面的月色中，布洛尔踌躇了片刻也跟了出去。他寻思着，“我反正要搞清楚，况且……”
After all he had tackled criminals armed with revolvers before now. Whatever else he lacked, Blore did not lack courage. Show him the danger and he would tackle it pluckily. He was not afraid of danger in the open, only of danger undefined and tinged with the supernatural.
况且在这之前他也对付过那些带有手枪的罪犯。布洛尔也可能欠缺点儿别的，但是绝对不缺乏勇气。见到危险，他会毫不犹豫地迎上前去。对于公开的危险他从不退缩，他怕的就是那种带有超自然色彩的东西——不知来自何方的危险。
It was a good solid door. It was both bolted and locked and had an oak chair wedged under the handle. It could not be broken open by force. Certainly not by Dr. Armstrong. He was not a physically powerful man.
房门非常结实，上着锁，插着插销，门把手底下还顶着一把橡木椅子，不可能从外面撞开。阿姆斯特朗身体并不强壮，要想破门而入是绝对办不到的。
He might, as Philip had suggested, announce that one of the other two men was dead. Or he might possibly pretend to be mortally wounded himself, might drag himself groaning to her door.
他很可能像菲利普分析的那样，声称那两个人中有一个死了。也许他假装受了重伤，呻吟着爬到她门口。
Vera, left to wait results, got up and dressed. She glanced over once or twice at the door.
维拉留在房里等待结果。她起身穿好衣服，向房门瞟了几眼。
If she were Armstrong intent on murder, it was cunning that she would employ, not force.
如果阿姆斯特朗打算害人，他一定使用狡计，而不是借助暴力。
She amused herself by reflecting on the means he might employ.
她百无聊赖地坐在那儿设想阿姆斯特朗可能采用的手段。
There were other possibilities. He might inform her that the house was on fire. More, he might actually set the house on fire… Yes, that would be a possibility. Lure the other two men out of the house, then, having previously laid a trail of petrol, he might set light to it. And she, like an idiot, would remain barricaded in her room until it was too late.
还有其它各式各样的可能性。譬如说，告诉她房子着火了……不错，这很有可能。把那两个人诱出别墅，然后在地上洒上些汽油，再把房子点着。于是她就像白痴一样，被禁锢在房子里等死。
She sat down and picking up her diary began to write in it in a clear flowing hand. One must pass the time.
她坐下来拿起日记，用清晰秀丽的字体写起来，反正要消磨时间。
Suddenly she stiffened to attention. She had heard a sound. It was, she thought, a sound like breaking glass. And it came from somewhere downstairs.
突然，她周身一紧，她听到一个声音，好像楼下什么地方的玻璃被打碎了。
She crossed over to the window. Not too bad. At a pinch one could escape that way. It would mean a drop — but there was a handy flower-bed.
维拉走到窗口，还好，在迫不得已的时候可以从这里逃命。只不过要摔一下——好在近旁有一个花坛。
She listened hard, but the sound was not repeated.
但是当她支起耳朵仔细去听的时候，那声音又消失了。
She heard, or thought she heard, stealthy sounds of footsteps, the creak of stairs, the rustle of garments — but there was nothing definite, and she concluded, as Blore had done earlier, that such sounds had their origin in her own imagination.
她听见——也许是幻想自己听见吧——鬼鬼祟祟的脚步声，吱吱嘎嘎的楼梯声，习习索索的衣服声……但这一切都无法确定。她得出结论同刚才布洛尔的一样，这些声音纯粹出于自己的想像。
Blore’s voice said: “Will you let us in?”
布洛尔的声音说：“可以让我们进去吗？”
Vera said impatiently: “Nonsense! He’s hiding somewhere!”
维拉不耐烦地说：“胡扯！他一定藏在哪儿了！”
“Yes. What’s happened?”
“没事，外面发生什么事了？”
The two men were breathing hard, their feet and the bottom of their trousers were soaking wet.
进来的两个人气喘吁吁，脚和裤腿都湿淋淋地淌着水。
Lombard said: “Armstrong’s disappeared…”
隆巴德说：“阿姆斯特朗失踪了。”
Blore concurred: “Vanished — that’s the word! Like some damned conjuring trick.”
布洛尔赞同说：“消失了——这个词用得好，像魔术一般地消失了。”
People moving about downstairs — the murmur of voices. Then the very decided sound of some one mounting the stairs — doors opening and shutting — feet going up to the attics overhead. More noises from there.
有人往楼上走，窃窃私语，坚定的脚步登上了楼梯，一扇门打开又关上，脚步走上了顶楼，接着顶楼上发出更多的声响。
But presently she heard sounds of a more concrete nature.
但就在这个时候，她又听到一种实实在在的声音。
Vera cried: “What?”
维拉叫了出来：“什么？”
Vera went to the door. She removed the chair, unlocked the door and slid back the bolt. She opened the door.
维拉走到门旁，搬开椅子，拧开门锁，拉开门拴，把门打开。
Lombard’s voice said: “Vera? You all right?”
隆巴德的声音问道：“维拉，你没事吧？”
Finally the steps came along the passage.
最后，脚步声又沿着走廊向她的卧室这边走来。
Lombard said: “Vanished clean off the island.”
隆巴德说：“从这个岛上消失了。”
She said again: “What’s happened?”
她又问了一遍：“发生什么事了？”
Blore said: “No, he isn’t! I tell you, there’s nowhere to hide on this island. It’s as bare as your hand! There’s moonlight outside. As clear as day it is. And he’s not to be found.”
布洛尔说：“不，不可能！我可以向你保证，这个岛上没有隐藏的地方，光秃秃的，一目了然。今天夜里月光和白昼一样亮，可就是找不到他。”
Blore said: “We thought of that. We’ve searched the house too. You must have heard us. He’s not here, I tell you. He’s gone — clean vanished, vamoosed…”
布洛尔说：“我们也这么想过，刚刚搜了一遍。当然了，你肯定听到了，告诉你，他不在，他不见了——彻底消失了，溜之乎也……”
Lombard said: “It’s true, my dear.” He paused and then said: “There’s one other little fact. A pane in the dining-room window has been smashed — and there are only three little Indian boys on the table.”
隆巴德说：“亲爱的，这是真的。”他顿了一下，又说，“还有另一件小小的事。餐厅窗户有一块被打碎了，桌上也只剩下三个小瓷人了。”
Vera said incredulously: “I don’t believe it.”
维拉怀疑地说：“我不信。”
Vera said: “He doubled back into the house.”
维拉说：“他又折回别墅了吧。”
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