第三章: 寻求解答 In Quest of a Solution
It was half-past five before Holmes returned. He was bright, eager, and in excellent spirits, a mood which in his case alter-nated with fits of the blackest depression.
一直到五点半，福尔摩斯才回来。他神采奕奕，非常亢奋，他的心情总在极度萎靡不振与如此的亢奋之间转换。
“What! you have solved it already?”
“什么！你已经解决了吗？”
“There is no great mystery in this matter,” he said, taking the cup of tea which I had poured out for him; “the facts appear to admit of only one explanation.”
“这件事情其实没有什么神秘之处，”他说，拿起一杯我给他倒的茶，“这些事情似乎只有一个解释。
“Well, that would be too much to say. I have discovered a suggestive fact, that is all. It is, however, very suggestive. The details are still to be added. I have just found, on consulting the back files of the Times, that Major Sholto, of Upper Norwood, late of the Thirty-fourth Bombay Infantry, died upon the twenty-eighth of April, 1882.”
“噢，还不能这么说。不过，我已经发现了一个非常有价值的线索，仅此而已。但这个线索非常有启发性。还有一些细节有待补充。我在查阅《泰晤士报》过期的期刊时刚刚发现，住在上诺伍德的肖尔托少校，前属驻孟买陆军第三十四团，死于一八八二年四月二十八日。”
“No? You surprise me. Look at it in this way, then. Captain Morstan disappears. The only person in London whom he could have visited is Major Sholto. Major Sholto denies having heard that he was in London. Four years later Sholto dies. Within a week of his death Captain Morstan’s daughter receives a valuable present, which is repeated from year to year and now culminates in a letter which describes her as a wronged woman. What wrong can it refer to except this deprivation of her father? And why should the presents begin immediately after Sholto’s death unless it is that Sholto’s heir knows something of the mystery and desires to make compensation? Have you any alternative theory which will meet the facts?”
“没有吗？这真让我惊讶。那么，让我们这么来看吧。摩斯坦上尉失踪了。在伦敦，他可能去拜访的只有肖尔托少校。可是肖尔托少校否认知道他来伦敦的消息。四年后，肖尔托死了。他死后不到一周，摩斯坦上尉的女儿就收到了一件贵重的礼物，之后每年都收到一次，现在又收到了一封信，竟说她是一个受了委屈的人。除了失去父亲以外，她还有什么委屈呢？还有，为什么在肖尔托死后，立刻开始有礼物寄出？除非是因为，肖尔托的继承人中，有人知晓其中的秘密，想要进行补偿。你还有其他说法能契合这些事实吗？”
“I may be very obtuse, Holmes, but I fail to see what this suggests.”
“也许是我愚钝吧，福尔摩斯，但我看不出这有什么启发可言。”
Miss Morstan was muffled in a dark cloak, and her sensitive face was composed but pale. She must have been more than woman if she did not feel some uneasiness at the strange enterprise upon which we were embarking, yet her self-control was perfect, and she readily answered the few additional questions which Sherlock Holmes put to her.
摩斯坦小姐穿着一件深色衣服，缠着围巾，她娇嫩的脸庞镇定却苍白。对于我们正要着手的这次奇怪事件，如果她没有感到一点儿不安的话，那她就实在是超乎常人了，但她的自制力非常强，欣然回答了舍洛克·福尔摩斯提出的几个新问题。
“There are difficulties; there are certainly difficulties,” said Sherlock Holmes pensively; “but our expedition of to-night will solve them all. Ah, here is a four-wheeler, and Miss Morstan is inside. Are you all ready? Then we had better go down, for it is a little past the hour.”
“这里面确实有一些难题，”舍洛克·福尔摩斯沉思道，“但我们今天晚上这一趟，将会解决所有的问题。啊，一辆四轮马车来了，摩斯坦小姐就在里面。你准备好了吗？那么我们最好马上出发，已经晚了一点儿了。”
I picked up my hat and my heaviest stick, but I observed that Holmes took his revolver from his drawer and slipped it into his pocket. It was clear that he thought that our night’s work might be a serious one.
我戴上帽子，拿起我最粗重的手杖，但我注意到，福尔摩斯从抽屉里拿出了他的手枪，放进口袋里。显然，他认为今晚的工作会有危险。
“But what a strange compensation! And how strangely made! Why, too, should he write a letter now, rather than six years ago? Again, the letter speaks of giving her justice. What justice can she have? It is too much to suppose that her father is still alive. There is no other injustice in her case that you know of.”
“多么奇怪的补偿！而且方式也很怪异！还有，为什么现在才寄出这封信，而不是六年前呢？而且，这封信提到了要还给她公平公正。她能拥有什么公正呢？猜想她父亲还活着就太不现实了。而你也不知道她还受过其他什么不公。”
“It is paper of native Indian manufacture,” he remarked. “It has at some time been pinned to a board. The diagram upon it appears to be a plan of part of a large building with numerous halls, corridors, and passages. At one point is a small cross done in red ink, and above it is ‘3.37 from left,’ in faded pencil-writing. In the left-hand corner is a curious hieroglyphic like four crosses in a line with their arms touching. Beside it is written, in very rough and coarse characters, ‘The sign of the four — Jonathan Small, Mahomet Singh, Abdullah Khan, Dost Akbar.’ No, I confess that I do not see how this bears upon the matter. Yet it is evidently a document of importance. It has been kept carefully in a pocketbook, for the one side is as clean as the other.”
“这纸是印度本土制造的，”他说，“曾经被钉在板子上。这上面的图形似乎是一幢大建筑的部分平面图，里面有很多大房间、走廊和甬道。中间有一处用红色墨水划出十字，在这上面有模糊的铅笔字迹——‘从左边3.37’。左边一个角上有一个很神秘的怪字，像四个连在一起的十字形。在那旁边，用非常粗糙的字母写着‘四签名——乔纳森·斯莫尔、穆罕默德·辛格、阿卜杜拉·克汗、多斯特·阿克巴’。确实，我承认我看不出这和案件有什么关联。但这无疑是一份非常重要的文件。它曾被珍藏在夹子里，因为两面都很干净。”
“Major Sholto was a very particular friend of Papa’s,” she said. “His letters were full of allusions to the major. He and Papa were in command of the troops at the Andaman Islands, so they were thrown a great deal together. By the way, a curious paper was found in Papa’s desk which no one could understand. I don’t suppose that it is of the slightest importance, but I thought you might care to see it, so I brought it with me. It is here.”
“肖尔托少校是爸爸的一位特别要好的朋友，”她说道，“他在来信里也经常提及少校。他和爸爸同是安达曼群岛的驻军指挥官，所以他们总是在一起。还有，在我爸爸的书桌里，有一张没人能看懂的奇怪纸条。我想它未必与这个案子有关，但也许你愿意看一看，所以我把它带来了。就是它。”
Holmes unfolded the paper carefully and smoothed it out upon his knee. He then very methodically examined it all over with his double lens.
福尔摩斯小心翼翼地展开纸，铺平了，放在膝盖上。然后，他用放大镜有条有理地整个检查了一遍。
“Preserve it carefully, then, Miss Morstan, for it may prove to be of use to us. I begin to suspect that this matter may turn out to be much deeper and more subtle than I at first supposed. I must reconsider my ideas.”
“好好地收起来，摩斯坦小姐，它最后或许会对我们有用处的。我开始怀疑，案情会比我起初假设的更深奥，也更玄妙。我需要重新考虑一下我的想法。”
“It was in his pocketbook that we found it.”
“这是我们从他的皮夹子里找到的。”
It was a September evening and not yet seven o’clock, but the day had been a dreary one, and a dense drizzly fog lay low upon the great city. Mud-coloured clouds drooped sadly over the muddy streets. Down the Strand the lamps were but misty splotches of diffused light which threw a feeble circular glimmer upon the slimy pavement. The yellow glare from the shop-windows streamed out into the steamy, vaporous air and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the crowded thorough fare. There was, to my mind, something eerie and ghostlike in the endless procession of faces which flitted across these narrow bars of light — sad faces and glad, haggard and merry. Like all humankind, they flitted from the gloom into the light and so back into the gloom once more. I am not subject to impressions, but the dull, heavy evening, with the strange business upon which we were engaged, combined to make me nervous and depressed. I could see from Miss Morstan’s manner that she was suffering from the same feeling. Holmes alone could rise superior to petty influences. He held his open notebook upon his knee, and from time to time he jotted down figures and memoranda in the light of his pocket-lantern.
这是一个九月的晚上，还不到七点钟，天气沉闷，浓雾笼罩着繁华的都市。泥泞的街道上飘浮着阴沉的黑云。伦敦斯特兰大道上的路灯仿佛只是几个模糊的光点，发出莹莹的环形微光，照在泥泞的人行道上。炫目的黄光从商店橱窗里照射出来，穿越迷蒙的雾气，微弱而摇摆不定地照着喧嚣的人群。我心里想，在络绎不绝的行人脸上，总有一些诡异、怪诞的东西，它们在这些纤细的光束照耀下一闪而过——这些面孔有的悲伤，有的快活，有的憔悴，有的欣喜。如同人类的一生，它们从黑暗走到光明，又再次返回黑暗。我并不是易于产生什么感触的人，但这个沉闷的夜晚和我们所经历的怪事交织在一起，使我变得压抑而紧张。从摩斯坦小姐的神情、动作中，我可以看出，她也有着类似的感觉。只有福尔摩斯不受这些外界事物的影响。借着怀中电筒的光，他把笔记本摊开在膝盖上，时不时写下一些数字和记录。
He leaned back in the cab, and I could see by his drawn brow and his vacant eye that he was thinking intently. Miss Morstan and I chatted in an undertone about our present expedition and its possible outcome, but our companion maintained his impenetrable reserve until the end of our journey.
他向后靠在车座靠背上，从他那紧皱的眉头和呆滞的目光，我可以看出他正在深思。摩斯坦小姐和我轻声聊着天，聊着我们现在的行动和可能的结果，但我们的伙伴却始终保持着令人捉摸不透的沉默，直到旅程的终点。
At the Lyceum Theatre the crowds were already thick at the side-entrances. In front a continuous stream of hansoms and four-wheelers were rattling up, discharging their cargoes of shirt-fronted men and be shawled, bediamonded women. We had hardly reached the third pillar, which was our rendezvous, before a small, dark, brisk man in the dress of a coachman accosted us.
莱西厄姆剧院两侧入口处的观众已经拥挤不堪。双轮和四轮马车源源不断地抵达剧院，放下穿着礼服、露着衬衣的男士和披着围巾、珠光宝气的女士。我们刚刚抵达约会地点——第三根柱子时，就看到一个身材矮小、面貌黝黑、精神饱满、马车夫装扮的精干男子向我们打招呼。
He bent a pair of wonderfully penetrating and questioning eyes upon us.
那人用敏锐的质询的眼光审视着我们。
“Are you the parties who come with Miss Morstan?” he asked.
“你们是跟摩斯坦小姐一起来的吗？”他问道。
“You will excuse me, miss,” he said with a certain dogged manner, “but I was to ask you to give me your word that neither of your companions is a police-officer.”
“小姐，请您原谅，”他强硬地说，“但我需要您保证，您的伙伴都不是警察。”
“I give you my word on that,” she answered.
“我保证，”她回答。
“I am Miss Morstan, and these two gentlemen are my friends,” said she.
“我就是摩斯坦小姐，这两位是我的朋友，”她回答。
He gave a shrill whistle, on which a street Arab led across a four-wheeler and opened the door. The man who had addressed us mounted to the box, while we took our places inside. We had hardly done so before the driver whipped up his horse, and we plunged away at a furious pace through the foggy streets.
他吹了一声尖锐的口哨，一个街头流浪者应声赶着一辆四轮马车来到我们面前，打开了车门。跟我们搭话的男人跳上了车夫的座位，我们也依次坐上了马车。还没等我们坐定，车夫就扬鞭赶马，我们迅速地在浓雾笼罩的街道上穿行。
The situation was a curious one. We were driving to an unknown place, on an unknown errand. Yet our invitation was either a complete hoax — which was an inconceivable hypothesis — or else we had good reason to think that important issues might hang upon our journey. Miss Morstan’s demeanour was as resolute and collected as ever. I endeavoured to cheer and amuse her by reminiscences of my adventures in Afghanistan; but, to tell the truth, I was myself so excited at our situation and so curious as to our destination that my stories were slightly involved. To this day she declares that I told her one moving anecdote as to how a musket looked into my tent at the dead of night, and how I fired a double-barrelled tiger cub at it. At first I had some idea as to the direction in which we were driving, but soon, what with our pace, the fog, and my own limited knowledge of London, I lost my bearings and knew nothing save that we seemed to be going a very long way. Sherlock Holmes was never at fault, however, and he muttered the names as the cab rattled through squares and in and out by tortuous by-streets.
情况非常奇特。我们正在驶向一个未知的地点，去完成一项未知的任务。而我们受到的招待要么就是一个恶作剧——这是一个不可想象的假设——若并非如此，我们有理由相信，从这一段旅程中，我们将获知一些重要的事情。摩斯坦小姐如同平常一样镇定而坚决。我努力想用我在阿富汗的冒险故事来取悦她，但说实话，我自己也正对我们的处境感到激动，对目的地感到好奇，因此故事也讲得有点儿混乱。直到今天，她还声称我给她讲过这样一个生动的故事——我如何在深夜里，用一只小老虎打死了钻到帐篷里来的一支双筒枪。起初我还清楚我们所走的方向，可是不久之后，由于速度快、有大雾，加上我自己对伦敦知之甚少，我完全丧失了方向感，只知道走了很远的路。而福尔摩斯并没有迷路，当马车嘎啦嘎啦地穿过一个个广场和弯弯曲曲的巷子时，他都能低声地念出名字来。
We did indeed get a fleeting view of a stretch of the Thames, with the lamps shining upon the broad, silent water; but our cab dashed on and was soon involved in a labyrinth of streets upon the other side.
我们果然瞥见了泰晤士河的一小段，路灯的光芒照耀在那静默宽广的水面上，可我们的马车依然在疾行，很快就到河对岸迷宫般的街道上去了。
“Rochester Row,” said he. “Now Vincent Square. Now we come out on the Vauxhall Bridge Road. We are making for the Surrey side apparently. Yes, I thought so. Now we are on the bridge. You can catch glimpses of the river.”
“罗彻斯特路，”他说，“现在是文森特广场。现在我们来到了沃克斯霍尔桥路。现在我们显然正驶向萨里区。是的，我想是这样。现在我们在桥上了。你可以看到桥底下的河流。”
“Wordsworth Road,” said my companion. “Priory Road. Lark Hall Lane. Stockwell Place. Robert Street. Cold Harbour Lane. Our quest does not appear to take us to very fashionable regions.”
“沃兹沃思路，”我的伙伴说，“修道院路，拉克霍尔街，斯托克韦尔街，罗伯特街，冷港街，我们不像是在朝着什么高档社区去。”
“Show them in to me, khitmutgar,” it said. “Show them straight in to me.”
“仆人，请他们到我这里来吧，”那个声音喊道，“请他们直接到我这里来。”
“The sahib awaits you,” said he, and even as he spoke, there came a high, piping voice from some inner room.
“我的主人正在等候你们。”他还没有说完，就有人在屋内高声喊了一声。
We had indeed reached a questionable and forbidding neighbourhood. Long lines of dull brick houses were only relieved by the coarse glare and tawdry brilliancy of public-houses at the corner. Then came rows of two-storied villas, each with a fronting of miniature garden, and then again interminable lines of new, staring brick buildings — the monster tentacles which the giant city was throwing out into the country. At last the cab drew up at the third house in a new terrace. None of the other houses were inhabited, and that at which we stopped was as dark as its neighbours, save for a single glimmer in the kitchen-window. On our knocking, however, the door was instantly thrown open by a Hindoo servant, clad in a yellow turban, white loose-fitting clothes, and a yellow sash. There was something strangely incongruous in this Oriental figure framed in the commonplace doorway of a third-rate suburban dwelling-house.
我们确实到了一个可疑而又恐怖的地方。两旁一直都是连续不断的暗灰色砖房，只有街角一些粗俗、炫目的酒肆让人稍觉安心。随后出现的是一排排双层别墅，每一幢前面都有一个微型花园，随后又是一列列连绵不绝的醒目新砖房——这里是这个大城市在郊区扩建的新区。最后，车子停在了一条新街的第三个门口。这些房子都没有人居住，我们停车的房子也跟周围的一样黑暗，只有从厨房投射出来的一丝光芒。但我们敲门后，立刻就有一个印度仆人开了门，他头戴黄色包头，身穿肥大的白色衣服，还系着黄色带子。在这个普通三等郊区住宅的门前出现了一个东方人，多少显得有些不协调。
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