評論
打印
'What do ye want?' he asked.
“你要什么？”他問道。
'I've come here with a letter for Mr Ebenezer Balfour of Shaws. Is he here?'
“我帶來一封給埃比尼澤·鮑爾弗·肖先生的信。他在嗎？”
'Who is it from?' asked the man with the gun.
“誰的？”持槍的男人問道。
'That's none of your business,' I replied, getting angry.
“那與你無關。”我答道，變得生氣了。
'Well, put the letter down by the door, and leave.'
“好，把信放到門邊，走。”
'I will not!' I answered sharply. 'I'm going to give it to Mr Balfour himself. The letter introduces me to him.'
“我不！”我厲聲答道，“我準備把信交給鮑爾弗先生本人。這封信把我引薦給他。”
'Who are ye then?' was the next question.
“那么，你是誰？”這是下一個問題。
'I'm not ashamed of my name. It's David Balfour.'
“我才不為我自己的名字而感到害臊呢。我叫戴維·鮑爾弗。”
The man almost dropped his gun. After a long while, he asked in a changed voice, 'Is your father dead?' I was too surprised to answer, but he continued, 'Aye, he must be dead, and that's why ye have come. Well, man, I'll let ye in,' and he disappeared from the window.
那個男人差一點把他的槍扔了。過了好一陣子，他才變了腔道問道：“你父親去世了嗎？”我因太驚訝了而回答不出來，但他繼續道：“對，他一定是死了，那也是你來的原因。好吧，伙計，我會讓你進來，”并從窗戶那兒消失了。
Now the door was unlocked, and a voice from the darkness said, 'Go into the kitchen and touch nothing.' I obeyed, while the man locked the heavy door carefully again. I found myself in the emptiest kitchen that I had ever seen. There was a fire, but no other light. On the table was a bowl of porridge and a glass of water, in front of the only chair. Around the walls were several locked chests. There was no other furniture. The man who now appeared in the kitchen was small, mean-looking and white-faced, between fifty and seventy years old, and wearing a dirty old nightshirt. The worst thing about him was that he could neither take his eyes away from me, nor look straight into my face.
門現在打開了，黑暗中有個聲音說道：“到廚房來，不準碰任何東西。”我照著他說的做了，與此同時那個男人小心翼翼地又把那扇沉沉的門鎖上了。我發現自己站在我所見過的最空蕩蕩的廚房里。那兒有一堆火，但除此以外再沒有別的光線了。唯一的一把椅子前的桌子上面放著一碗粥和一杯水。墻的四周擺放著幾個鎖著的柜子。除此以外，沒有別的什么家具。現在在廚房里出現的那個男人身材矮小，形象猥瑣，臉色蒼白，約在五十歲到七十歲之間，穿著一件臟兮兮的舊睡衣。最糟糕的是他既不把視線從我身上移開，也不直視我的臉。
'If ye're hungry,' he said, 'ye can eat that porridge. It's grand food, porridge! Let me see the letter!'
“如果你餓了，”他說道，“你可以吃那碗粥。粥，可是好東西！讓我看看信！”
'It's for Mr Balfour, not you,' I replied.
“信是給鮑爾弗先生的，不是給你的，”我說道。
'And who do ye think I am? Give me Alexander's letter! Ye may not like me or my house or my porridge, but I'm your born uncle, Davie, my man!'
“那么你以為我是誰啊？把亞歷山大的信給我！你可能不喜歡我、不喜歡我的房子或者不喜歡我的粥，但我是你的親伯伯，戴維，我的伙計！”
This was the end of all my hopes. I was too tired and miser able to speak, so I silently gave him the letter, and sat down to eat the porridge.
我所有的希望破滅了。我因太勞累、太難受而什么話也說不出來，于是我默默地把信交給他并坐下來喝粥。
'Your father's been dead a long time?' he asked, giving me a quick look from his sharp eyes.
“你父親死了很久了？”他一邊問，一邊用他那雙厲害的眼睛飛快地掃視我。
'Three weeks, sir,' I said.
“三周了，先生，”我道。
'He was a secretive man, Alexander was. Perhaps he didn't talk much about me? Or about the house of Shaws?'
“他是個愛遮遮掩掩的人，對，亞歷山大是。也許他沒有怎么說起過我？或說起過肖家這房子？”
'I never knew he had a brother, sir, or ever heard the name of Shaws.'
“我從不知道他有一個兄弟，先生，也沒聽說過肖這個名字。”
'To think of that!' he replied. 'A strange man!' But he seemed very pleased, and began to look at me with more inter est. Soon he jumped up and said, 'We're going to get on well, Davie! What's mine is yours, man, and what's yours is mine. Blood's thicker than water, and there's only ye and me of the name of Balfour. Now I'll show ye to your bed.'
“想想看！”他回答道，“真是一個奇怪的人！”但是他看起來很高興，并且也開始更饒有興趣地打量著我。不一會兒他跳起身來，說道：“我們將會合得來的，戴維！我的就是你的，伙計，你的也是我的。血濃于水，鮑爾弗家只有你和我兩個人。現在我要把你帶到睡覺處去。”
He took me up some dark stairs and showed me into a room. I could not see anything.
他帶著我上了黑黝黝的樓梯，把我帶到一個房間里。我什么也看不到。
'Can I have a light, sir?' I asked.
“我能有盞燈嗎，先生？”我問道。
'No, ye can't. No lights in this house! I'm afraid of fires, ye see. Good night to ye, Davie, my man. 'And before I had time to reply, he pulled the door shut and locked it from the outside. The room was very cold, but luckily I had my plaid with me, so I covered myself with it like a blanket, and soon fell asleep.
“不，你不能。這房子里不準有燈！你明白我怕火。晚安，戴維，我的伙計。”我還沒有來得及回答，他已把門關上并從外面鎖上了。房間里很冷，但幸運的是我隨身帶著肩巾，于是我用它像用毯子一樣地把自己蓋起來，很快我便睡著了。
