“Your valises have been moved, Monsieur, to the compartment No. 1, the compartment of M. Bouc.”
“您的行李已经搬到一号房间去了，先生，布克先生那间。”
“But where is M. Bouc, then?”
“布克先生去哪儿了？”
The Simplon Orient Express arrived at Belgrade at a quarter to nine that evening. It was not due to depart again until 9:15, so Poirot descended to the platform. He did not, however, remain there long. The cold was bitter and though the platform itself was protected, heavy snow was falling outside. He returned to his compartment. The conductor, who was on the platform stamping his feet and waving his arms to keep warm, spoke to him.
辛普朗东方快车于当晚八点四十五分抵达贝尔格莱德，预定在九点十五分再次开动，于是波洛下车到了站台上。可他并没停留多久，天气太冷了，外面下着大雪，即使站台上有顶棚也不顶用。他返回自己的房间。正在站台上搓手跺脚取暖的列车员对他说：
“He has moved into the coach from Athens which has just been put on.”
“他搬到刚挂上的、从雅典来的车厢里去了。”
“It is nothing. It is nothing. It is more convenient like this. You are going through to England, so it is better that you should stay in the through coach to Calais. Me, I am very well here. It is most peaceful. This coach is empty save for myself and one little Greek doctor. Ah! my friend, what a night! They say there has not been so much snow for years. Let us hope we shall not be held up. I am not too happy about it, I can tell you.”
“没事，没事，这样更方便。你直接去英国，所以最好待在去加来的车厢里。哎呀，我在这儿很好，安静极了，车厢空空的，只有我和一个小个子希腊医生。啊，我的朋友，这个晚上真是…他们说很多年都没下过这么大的雪了，但愿我们不会被大雪堵在路上，我跟你说，我可受不了！”
Poirot went in search of his friend. M. Bouc waved his protestations aside.
波洛去找自己的朋友，布克先生对他的抗议置之不理。
MacQueen broke off something he was saying when he saw Poirot. He looked very surprised.
一看到波洛，麦奎因马上停了下来，满脸的惊奇。
“But, man, your baggage — it’s gone.”
“但是，老兄，你的行李，不见了。”
“You misunderstood me,” said Poirot, smiling. “I remember now, the train started from Stamboul just as we were talking about it.”
“你误会我啦，”波洛微笑着说，“我记得我们谈到这个的时候，火车刚好从斯坦布尔开动。”
At 9:15 punctually the train pulled out of the station, and shortly afterwards Poirot got up, said good night to his friend and made his way along the corridor back into his own coach which was in front next to the dining car.
九点十五分，火车准时驶出车站。过了一会儿，波洛站起来，和朋友道晚安，然后沿过道返回自己新的车厢，在火车前端，挨着餐车。
On this, the second day of the journey, barriers were breaking down. Colonel Arbuthnot was standing at the door of his compartment talking to MacQueen.
旅程的第二天，大家的隔阂逐渐打破了。阿巴思诺特上校正站在自己房间门口和麦奎因聊天。
“Why,” he cried, “I thought you’d left us. You said you were getting off at Belgrade.”
“啊，”他大叫，“我以为你下车了！你说你在贝尔格莱德下车的。”
“Oh, I see.”
“哦，我明白了！”
“It has been moved into another compartment — that is all.”
“搬到另一个房间了。”
He resumed his conversation with Arbuthnot and Poirot passed on down the corridor.
他继续跟阿巴思诺特上校说起话来，而波洛则沿着过道往前走。
Two doors from his own compartment, the elderly American lady, Mrs. Hubbard, was standing talking to the sheep-like lady who was a Swede. Mrs. Hubbard was pressing a magazine on the other.
离他房间两扇门远的地方，那个美国老女人——哈巴特太太——正站着跟山羊脸太太——瑞典人——说话。她硬塞给后者一本杂志。
“No, do take it, my dear,” she said. “I’ve got plenty other things to read. My, isn’t the cold something frightful?” She nodded amicably to Poirot.
“没事儿，拿着吧，亲爱的，”她说，“我还有好多别的可以看呢。唉，感冒可真吓人。”她友好地冲波洛点点头。
“You are most kind,” said the Swedish lady.
“你真是太好了。”瑞典太太说。
“It is the cold only. I make now myself a cup of tea.”
“只是天气太冷了。我去泡杯热茶。”
“Have you got some aspirin? Are you sure, now? I’ve got plenty. Well, good night, my dear.”
“你有阿司匹林吗？真有吗？我这里多得是。那好吧，晚安，亲爱的。”
“Not at all. I hope you’ll sleep well and that your head will be better in the morning.”
“没关系，希望你能好好睡一觉，明天早上头就不那么疼啦。”
She turned to Poirot conversationally as the other woman departed.
对方离开之后，她转向波洛，开始喋喋不休起来。
Poirot, by now, knew all about Mrs. Hubbard’s daughter. Everyone on the train who could understand English did! How she and her husband were on the staff of a big American college in Smyrna and how this was Mrs. Hubbard’s first journey to the East, and what she thought of the Turks and their slipshod ways and the condition of their roads.
此刻，波洛已经知道到了哈巴特太太女儿的全部情况。火车上每个懂英语的人都知道！她和丈夫在士麦那[1]一所很大的美国大学里工作，这个哈巴特太太是第一次来东方旅行，她对土耳其人及其草率邋遢的行为方式，还有他们的路况等都有不少看法。【注：[1]土耳其西部城市。】
“Poor creature, she’s a Swede. As far as I can make out, she’s a kind of missionary — a teaching one. A nice creature, but doesn’t talk much English. She was most interested in what I told her about my daughter.”
“怪可怜的，是个瑞典人。据我所知，是个传教士之类的人，教学的，是个好人，可不怎么会说英语，她最爱听我跟她讲我女儿了。”
“You know, I’m dead scared of that man. Oh, not the valet — the other — his master. Master, indeed! There’s something wrong about that man. My daughter always says I’m very intuitive. ‘When Momma gets a hunch, she’s dead right,’ that’s what my daughter says. And I’ve got a hunch about that man. He’s next door to me, and I don’t like it. I put my grips against the communicating door last night. I thought I heard him trying the handle. Do you know, I shouldn’t be surprised if that man turns out to be a murderer — one of these train robbers you read about. I dare say I’m foolish, but there it is. I’m downright scared of the man! My daughter said I’d have an easy journey, but somehow I don’t feel happy about it. It may be foolish, but I feel anything might happen. Anything at all. And how that nice young fellow can bear to be his secretary I can’t think.”
“你知道，我怕死那个男人了。哦，不是那个男仆——是另一个，他的主人。确实是个主人！那个人有问题。我女儿总是说我的直觉很准。‘妈妈的预感准得不得了。’我女儿说的。我对那人有种预感。他住在我隔壁，我可真害怕。昨晚我把行李箱顶在连通门上了。我想我听见他转动门把手了。要知道，如果这男人真是个杀人犯，就像你读过的那种火车大盗，我可一点也不奇怪。我这么说可能很蠢，但事实就是这样。我被那个人吓死了！我女儿说我这次旅行会很愉快，可不知怎么的，我一点也高兴不起来。这么说可能很蠢，但我总觉得好像会有事发生——什么事都可能发生。那么好的小伙子怎么受得了去给他当秘书？我真是不明白。”
The door next to them opened and the thin, pale manservant stepped out. Inside Poirot caught a glimpse of Mr. Ratchett sitting up in bed. He saw Poirot and his face changed, darkening with anger. Then the door was shut.
他们旁边的那扇门开了，那个消瘦苍白的男仆走了出来。波洛瞥见房间里面雷切特先生正坐在床沿。看见波洛，他的神情都变了，气得沉下了脸。随后，门关上了。
Mrs. Hubbard drew Poirot a little aside.
哈巴特太太把波洛稍稍往旁边拉了一下。
The men passed and went on down the corridor to MacQueen’s carriage.
两个人从他们身边走了过去，进了麦奎因的房间。
That cry had startled him. He remembered that it was Ratchett who had the next compartment. He got out of bed and opened the door just as the Wagon Lit conductor came hurrying along the corridor and knocked on Ratchett’s door. Poirot kept his door open a crack and watched. The conductor tapped a second time. A bell rang and a light showed over another door farther down. The conductor glanced over his shoulder.
喊叫声吓了他一跳。他记得隔壁房间住的是雷切特。他下床打开门，正巧列车员匆匆从过道走来，敲了敲雷切特的门。波洛把房门打开了一条缝，向外观察着。列车员再次敲了敲门。铃声响了起来，指示灯显示是远处的另外一个门。列车员扭过头看了一眼。
Colonel Arbuthnot and MacQueen were coming towards them down the corridor.
阿巴思诺特上校和麦奎因正从过道上向他们走过来。
“Good night, Madame.”
“晚安，太太。”
“Come into my carriage,” MacQueen was saying. “It isn’t made up for the night yet. Now what I want to get right about your policy in India is this –“
“来我的房间吧，”麦奎因边走边说，“今晚我们还没聊够，我想弄明白你们关于印度的政策是——”
Mrs. Hubbard said good night to Poirot. “I guess I’ll go right to bed and read,” she said. “Good night.”
哈巴特太太向波洛道了晚安。“我想我要上床看书睡觉了。”她说，“晚安。”
He awoke some hours later, and awoke with a start. He knew what it was that had wakened him — a loud groan, almost a cry, somewhere close at hand. At the same moment the ting of a bell sounded sharply.
几小时后他醒了，被惊醒了。他知道是什么惊扰了自己——一声很响的呻吟，几乎可以说是叫喊了，近在咫尺。与此同时，电铃骤然叮当大响。
Poirot passed into his own compartment, which was the next one beyond Ratchett’s. He undressed and got into bed, read for about half an hour and then turned out the light.
波洛走进自己的房间，就是雷切特前面的一间。他脱了衣服上了床，看了大约半个钟头的书就关灯了。
Poirot sat up and switched on the light. He noticed that the train was at a standstill — presumably at a station.
波洛下床扭亮了灯。他意识到火车停了——可能是到站了。
“Bien, Monsieur.” The conductor scurried off again, to knock at the door where the light was showing.
“好的，先生。”列车员又快步跑去敲刚才亮灯的那扇门。
At the same moment a voice from within the next-door compartment called out: “Ce n’est rien. Je me suis trompé.”
这时，隔壁房间传来一声大喊：“没事，我按错铃了。[2]”【注：[2]原文为法语。】
Poirot returned to bed, his mind relieved, and switched off the light. He glanced at his watch. It was just twenty-three minutes to one.
波洛回到床上，放心地关了灯。他看了一眼手表，正好差二十三分一点。
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