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双城记英文版 - Part 3 Chapter XL. THE SUBSTANCE OF THE SHADOW
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  I Alexandre Manette, unfortunate physician, native of Beauvais, and afterwards resident in Paris—write this melancholy paper in my doleful cell in the Bastille, during the last month of the year 1767. I write it at stolen intervals, under every difficulty. I design to secrete it in the wall of the chimney, where I have slowly and laboriously made a place of concealment for it. Some pitying hand may find it there, when I and my sorrows are dust.“These words are formed by the rusty iron point with which I write with difficulty in scrapings of soot and charcoal from the chimney, mixed with blood, in the last month of the tenth year of my captivity. Hope has quite departed from my breast. I know from terrible warnings I have noted in myself that my reason will not long remain unimpaired, but I solemnly declare that I am at this time in the possession of my right mind—that my memory is exact and circumstantial—and that I write the truth as I shall answer for these my last recorded words, whether they be ever read by men or not, at the Eternal Judgment-seat.“One cloudy moonlight night, in the third week of December (I think the twenty-second of the month) in the year 1757, I was walking on a retired part of the quay by the Seine for the refreshment of the frosty air, at an hour’s distance from my place of residence in the Street of the School of Medicine, when a carriage came along behind me, driven very fast. As I stood aside to let that carriage pass, apprehensive that it might otherwise run me down, a head was put out at the window, and a voice called to the driver to stop.“The carriage stopped as soon as the driver could rein in his horses, and the same voice called to me by my name. I answered. The carriage was then so far in advance of me that two gentlemen had time to open the door and alight before I came up with it. I observed that they were both wrapped in cloaks, and appeared to conceal themselves. As they stood side by side near the carriage door, I also observed that they both looked of about my own age, or rather younger, and that they were greatly alike, in stature, manner, voice, and (as far as I could see) face too.“‘You are Doctor Manette?’ said one.“‘I am.’ “‘Doctor Manette, formerly of Beauvais,’ said the other; ‘the young physician, originally an expert surgeon, who within the last year or two has made a rising reputation in Paris?’ “‘Gentlemen,’ I returned, ‘I am that Doctor Manette of whom you speak so graciously.’ “‘We have been to your residence,’ said the first, ‘and not being so fortunate as to find you there, and being informed that you were probably walking in this direction, we followed, in the hope of overtaking you. Will you please to enter the carriage?’ “The manner of both was imperious, and they both moved, as these words were spoken, so as to place me between themselves and the carriage door. They were armed. I was not.“‘Gentlemen,’ said I, ‘pardon me; but I usually inquire who does me the honour to seek my assistance, and what is the nature of the case to which I am summoned.’ “The reply to this was made by him who had spoken second. ‘Doctor, your clients are people of condition. As to the nature of the case, our confidence in your skill assures us that you will ascertain it for yourself better than we can describe it. Enough. Will you please enter the carriage?’ “I could do nothing but comply, and I entered it in silence. They both entered after me—the last springing in, after putting up the steps. The carriage turned about, and drove on at its former speed.“I repeat this conversation exactly as it occurred. I have no doubt that it is, word for word, the same. I describe everything exactly as it took place, constraining my mind not to wander from the task. When I make the broken marks that follow here, I leave off for the time, and put my paper in its hiding place.“The carriage left the streets behind, passed the North Barrier, and emerged upon the country road. At two-thirds of a league from the Barrier—I did not estimate the distance at that time, but afterwards when I traversed it—it struck out of the main avenue, and presently stopped at a solitary house. We all three alighted, and walked, by a damp soft footpath in a garden where a neglected fountain had overflowed, to the door of the house. It was not opened immediately, in answer to the ringing of the bell, and one of my two conductors struck the man who opened it, with his heavy riding-glove, across the face.“There was nothing in this action to attract my particular attention, for I had seen common people struck more commonly than dogs. But, the other of the two, being angry likewise, struck the man in like manner with his arm; the look and bearing of the brothers were then so exactly alike, that I then first perceived them to be twin brothers.“From the time of our alighting at the outer gate (which we found locked, and which one of the brothers had opened to admit us, and had relocked), I had heard cries proceeding from an upper chamber. I was conducted to this chamber straight, the cries growing louder as we ascended the stairs, and I found a patient in a high fever of the brain, lying on a bed.“The patient was a woman of great beauty, and young; assuredly not much past twenty. Her hair was torn and ragged, and her arms were bound to her sides with sashes and handkerchiefs. I noticed that these bonds were all portions of a gentleman’s dress. On one of them, which was a fringed scarf for a dress ceremony, I saw the armorial bearings of a Noble, and the letter E.“I saw this, within the first minute of my contemplation of the patient; for, in her restless strivings she had turned over on her face on the edge of the bed, had drawn the end of the scarf into her mouth, and was in danger of suffocation. My first act was to put out my hand to relieve her breathing; and in moving the scarf aside, the embroidery in the corner caught my sight.“I turned her gently over, placed my hands upon her breast to calm her and keep her down, and looked into her face. Her eyes were dilated and wild, and she constantly uttered piercing shrieks, and repeated the words, ‘My husband, my father, and my brother!’ and then counted up to twelve, and said, ‘Hush!’ For an instant, and no more, she would pause to listen, and then the piercing shrieks would begin again, and she would repeat the cry, ‘My husband, my father, and my brother!’ and would count up to twelve, and say ‘Hush!’ There was no variation in the order, or the manner. There was no cessation, but the regular moment’s pause, in the utterance of these sounds.“‘How long,’ I asked, ‘has this lasted?’“To distinguish the brothers, I will call them the elder and the younger; by the elder, I mean, him who exercised the most authority. It was the elder who replied, ‘Since about this hour last night.’“‘She has a husband, a father, and a brother?’“‘A brother.’“‘I do not address her brother?’“He answered with great contempt, ‘No.’“‘She has some recent association with the number twelve?’“The younger brother impatiently rejoined, ‘With twelve o’clock.’“‘See, gentlemen,’ said I, still keeping my hands upon her breast, ‘how useless I am, as you have brought me! If I had known what I was coming to see, I could have come provided. As it is, time must be lost. There are no medicines to be obtained in this lonely place.’“The elder brother looked to the younger, who said haughtily, ‘There is a case of medicines here’; and brought it from a closet, and put it on the table.“I opened some of the bottles, smelt them, and put the stoppers to my lips. If I had wanted to use anything save narcotic medicines that were poisons in themselves, I would not have administered any of those.“‘Do you doubt them?’ asked the younger brother.“‘You see, monsieur, I am going to use them,’ I replied, and said no more.“I made the patient swallow, with great difficulty, and after many efforts, the dose that I desired to give. As I intended to repeat it after a while, and as it was necessary to watch its influence, I then sat down by the side of the bed. There was a timid and suppressed woman in attendance (wife of the man down-stairs), who had retreated into a corner. The house was damp and decayed, indifferently furnished—evidently, recently occupied and temporarily used. Some thick old hangings had been nailed up before the windows, to deaden the sound of the shrieks. They continued to be uttered in their regular succession, with the cry, ‘My husband, my father, and my brother!’ the counting up to twelve, and ‘Hush!’ The frenzy was so violent, that I had not unfastened the bandages restraining the arms; but I had looked to them, to see that they were not painful. The only spark of encouragement in the case, was, that my hand upon the sufferer’s breast had this much soothing influence, that for minutes at a time it tranquilised the figure. It had no effect upon the cries; no pendulum could be more regular.“For the reason that my hand had this effect (I assume), I had sat by the side of the bed for half an hour, with the two brothers looking on, before the elder said:“‘There is another patient.’“I was startled, and asked, ‘Is it a pressing case?’“‘You had better see,’ he carelessly answered; and took up a light.“The other patient lay in a back room across a second staircase, which was a species of loft over a stable. There was a low plastered ceiling to a part of it; the rest was open, to the ridge of the tiled roof, and there were beams across. Hay and straw were stored in that portion of the place, faggots for firing, and a heap of apples in sand. I had to pass through that part, to get at the other. My memory is circumstantial and unshaken. I try it with these details, and I see them all, in this my cell in the Bastille, near the close of the tenth year of my captivity, as I saw them all that night.“On some hay on the ground, with a cushion thrown under his head, lay a handsome peasant boy—a boy of not more than seventeen at the most. He lay on his back, with his teeth set, his right hand clenched on his breast, and his glaring eyes looking straight upward. I could not see where his wound was, as I kneeled on one knee over him; but, I could see that he was dying of a wound from a sharp point.“‘I am a doctor, my poor fellow,’ said I. ‘Let me examine it.’“‘I do not want it examined,’ he answered; ‘let it be.’ “It was under his hand, and I soothed him to let me move his hand away. The wound was a sword-thrust, received from twenty to twenty- four hours before, but no skill could have saved him if it had been looked to without delay. He was then dying fast. As I turned my eyes to the elder brother, I saw him looking down at this handsome boy whose life was ebbing out, as if he were a wounded bird, or hare, or rabbit; not at all as if he were a fellow-creature.“‘How has this been done, monsieur?’ said I.“‘A crazed young common dog! A serf! Forced my brother to draw upon him, and has fallen by my brother’s sword—like a gentleman.’“There was no touch of pity, sorrow, or kindred humanity in this answer. The speaker seemed to acknowledge that it was inconvenient to have that different order of creature dying there, and that it would have been better if he had died in the usual obscure routine of his vermin kind. He was quite incapable of any compassionate feeling about the boy, or about his fate.“The boy’s eyes had slowly moved to him as he had spoken, and they now slowly moved to me.“‘Doctor, they are very proud, these Nobles; but we common dogs are proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but we have a little pride left, sometimes. She—have you seen her, Doctor?’“The shrieks and the cries were audible there, though subdued by the distance. He referred to them, as if she were lying in our presence.“I said, ‘I have seen her.’“‘She is my sister, Doctor. They have had their shameful rights, these Nobles. In the modesty and virtue of our sisters, many years, but we have had good girls among us. I know it, and have heard my father say so. She was a good girl. She was betrothed to a good young man, too: a tenant of his. We were all tenants of his—that man’s who stands there. The other is his brother, the worst of a bad race.’“It was with the greatest difficulty that the boy gathered bodily force to speak; but, his spirit spoke with a dreadful emphasis.“‘We were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common dogs are by those superior Beings—taxed by him without mercy, obliged to work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn at his mill, obliged to feed scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, and forbidden for our lives to keep a single tame bird of our own, pillaged and plundered to that degree that when we chanced to have a bit of meat, we ate it in fear, with the door barred and the shutters closed, that his people should not see it and take it from us—I say, we were so robbed, and hunted, and were made so poor, that our father told us it was a dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and that what we should most pray for, was, that our women might be barren and our miserable race die out!’ “I had never before seen the sense of being oppressed, bursting forth like a fire. I had supposed that it must be latent in the people somewhere; but. I had never seen it break out, until I saw it in the dying boy.“‘Nevertheless, Doctor, my sister married. He was ailing at that time, poor fellow, and she married her lover, that she might tend and comfort him in our cottage—our dog-hut, as that man would call it. She had not been married many weeks, when that man’s brother saw her and admired her, and asked that man to lend her to him—for what are husbands among us! He was willing enough, but my sister was good and virtuous, and hated his brother with a hatred as strong as mine. What did the two then, to persuade her husband to use his influence with her, to make her willing?’“The boy’s eyes, which had been fixed on mine, slowly turned to the looker-on, and I saw in the two faces that all he said was true. The two opposing kinds of pride confronting one another, I can see, even in this Bastille; the gentleman’s all negligent indifference; the peasant’s, all trodden-down sentiment, and passionate revenge.“‘You know, Doctor, that it is among the Rights of these Nobles to harness us common dogs to carts, and drive us. They so harnessed him and drove him. You know that it is among their Rights to keep us in their grounds all night, quieting the frogs, in order that their noble sleep may not be disturbed. They kept him out in the unwholesome mists at night, and ordered him back into his harness in the day. But he was not persuaded. No! Taken out of harness one day at noon, to feed—if he could find food—he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of the bell, and died on her bosom.’ “Nothing human could have held life in the boy but his determination to tell all his wrong. He forced back the gathering shadows of death, as he forced his clenched right hand to remain clenched, and to cover his wound.“‘Then, with that man’s permission and even with his aid, his brother took her away; in spite of what I know she must have told his brother—and what that is, will not be long unknown to you, Doctor, if it is now—his brother took her away—for his pleasure and diversion, for a little while. I saw her pass me on the road. When I took the tidings home, our father’s heart burst; he never spoke one of the words that filled it. I took my young sister (for I have another) to a place beyond the reach of this man, and where, at least, she will never be his vassal. Then, I tracked the brother here, and last night climbed in—a common dog, but sword in hand.—Where is the loft window? It was somewhere here?’“The room was darkening to his sight; the world was narrowing around him. I glanced about me, and saw that the hay and straw were trampled over the floor, as if there had been a struggle.“‘She heard me, and ran in. I told her not to come near us till he was dead. He came in and first tossed me some pieces of money; then struck at me with a whip. But I, though a common dog, so struck at him as to make him draw. Let him break into as many pieces as he will, the sword that he stained with my common blood; he drew to defend himself—thrust at me with all his skill for his life.’“My glance had fallen, but a few moments before. On the fragments of a broken sword, lying among the hay. That weapon was a gentleman’s. In another place. Lay an old sword that seemed to have been a soldier’s.“‘Now, lift me up, Doctor; lift me up. Where is he?’“‘He is not here,’ I said, supporting the boy, and thinking that he referred to the brother.“‘He! Proud as these Nobles are, he is afraid to see me. Where is the man who was here? Turn my face to him.’“I did so, raising the boy’s head against my knee. But, invested for the moment with extraordinary power, he raised himself completely: obliging me to rise too, or I could not have still supported him.“‘Marquis,’ said the boy, turned to him with his eyes opened wide, and his right hand raised, ‘in the days when all these things are to be answered for, I summon you and yours, the last of your bad race, to answer for them. I mark this cross of blood upon you, as a sign that I do it. In the days when all these things are to be answered for, I summon your brother, the worst of the bad race, to answer for them separately. I mark this cross of blood upon him, as a sign that I do it.’“Twice, he put his hand to the wound in his breast, and with his forefinger drew a cross in the air. He stood for an instant with the finger yet raised, and, as it dropped, he dropped with it, and I laid him down dead.“When I returned to the bedside of the young woman, I found her raving in precisely the same order and continuity. I knew that this might last for many hours, and that it would probably end in the silence of the grave.“I repeated the medicines I had given her, and I sat at the side of the bed until the night was far advanced. She never abated the piercing quality of her shrieks, never stumbled in the distinctness or the order of her words. They were always ‘My husband, my father, and my brother! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve! Hush!’ “This lasted twenty-six hours from the time when I first saw her. I had come and gone twice and was again sitting by her, when she began to falter. I did what little could be done to assist that opportunity, and by-and-by she sank into a lethargy, and lay like the dead.“It was as if the wind and rain had lulled at last, after a long and fearful storm. I released her arms, and called the woman to assist me to compose her figure and the dress she had torn. It was then that I knew her condition to be that of one in whom the first expectations of being a mother have arisen; and it was then that I lost the little hope I had had of her.“‘Is she dead?’ asked the Marquis, whom I will still describe as the elder brother, coming booted into the room from his horse.“‘Not dead,’ said I; ‘but like to die.’“‘What strength there is in these common bodies!’ he said, looking down at her with some curiosity.“‘There is prodigious strength,’ I answered him. ‘in sorrow and despair.’“He first laughed at my words, and then frowned at them. He moved a chair with his foot near to mine, ordered the woman away, and said in a subdued voice, ‘Doctor, finding my brother in this difficulty with these hinds, I recommended that your aid should be invited. Your reputation is high, and, as a young man with your fortune to make, you are probably mindful of your interest. The things that you see here, are things to be seen, and not spoken of.’“I listened to the patient’s breathing, and avoided answering.“‘Do you honour me with your attention, Doctor?’“‘Monsieur,’ said I, ‘in my profession, the communications of patients are always received in confidence.’ I was guarded in my answer, for I was troubled in my mind with what I had heard and seen.“Her breathing was so difficult to trace, that I carefully tried the pulse and the heart. There was life, and no more. Looking round as I resumed my seat, I found both the brothers intent upon me.“I write with so much difficulty, the cold is so severe, I am so fearful of being detected and consigned to an underground cell and total darkness, that I must abridge this narrative. There is no confusion or failure in my memory; it can recall, and could detail, every word that was ever spoken between me and those brothers.“She lingered for a week. Towards the last, I could understand some few syllables that she said to me, by placing my ear close to her lips. She asked me where she was, and I told her; who I was, and I told her. It was in vain that I asked her for her family name. She faintly shook her head upon the pillow, and kept her secret, as the boy had done.“I had no opportunity of asking her any questions, until I had told the brothers she was sinking fast, and could not live another day. Until then, though no one was ever presented to her consciousness save the woman and myself, one or other of them had always jealously sat behind the curtain at the head of the bed when I was there. But when it came to that, they seemed careless what communication I might hold with her; as if—the thought passed through my mind—I were dying too.“I always observed that their pride bitterly resented the younger brother’s (as I call him) having crossed swords with a peasant and that peasant a boy. The only consideration that appeared to affect the mind of either of them was the consideration that this was highly degrading to the family, and was ridiculous. As often as I caught the younger brother’s eyes, their expression reminded me that he disliked me deeply, for knowing what I knew from the boy. He was smoother and more polite to me than the elder; but I saw this. I also saw that I was an incumbrance in the mind of the elder, too.“My patient died, two hours before midnight—at a time, by my watch, answering almost to the minute when I had first seen her. I was alone with her, when her forlorn young head dropped gently on one side, and all her earthly wrongs and sorrows ended.“The brothers were waiting in a room down-stairs, impatient to ride away. I had heard them, alone at the bedside, striking their boots with their riding-whips, and loitering up and down.“‘At last she is dead?’ said the elder, when I went in.“‘She is dead,’ said I.“‘I congratulate you, my brother,’ were his words as he turned round.“He had before offered me money, which I had postponed taking. He now gave me a rouleau of gold. I took it from his hand, but laid it on the table. I had considered the question, and had resolved to accept nothing.“‘Pray excuse me,’ said I. ‘Under the circumstances, no.’“They exchanged looks, but bent their heads to me as I bent mine to them, and we parted without another word on either side.“I am weary, weary, weary—worn down by misery; I cannot read what I have written with this gaunt hand.“Early in the morning, the rouleau of gold was left at my door in a little box, with my name on the outside. From the first, I had anxiously considered what I ought to do. I decided, that day, to write privately to the Minister, stating the nature of the two cases to which I had been summoned, and the place to which I had gone: in effect, stating all the circumstances. I knew what Court influence was, and what the immunities of the Nobles were, and I expected that the matter would never be heard of; but, I wished to relieve my own mind. I had kept the matter a profound secret, even from my wife; and this, too, I resolved to state in my letter. I had no apprehension whatever of my real danger; but I was conscious that there might be danger for others, if others were compromised by possessing the knowledge that I possessed.“I was much engaged that day, and could not complete my letter that night. I rose long before my usual time next morning to finish it. It was the last day of the year. The letter was lying before me just completed, when I was told that a lady waited, who wished to see me.“I am growing more and more unequal to the task I have set myself. It is so cold, so dark, my senses are so benumbed, and the gloom upon me is so dreadful.“The lady was young, engaging, and handsome, but not marked for long life. She was in great agitation. She presented herself to me as the wife of the Marquis St. Evremonde. I connected the title by which the boy had addressed the elder brother, with the initial letter embroidered on the scarf, and had no difficulty in arriving at the conclusion that I had seen that nobleman very lately.“My memory is still accurate, but I cannot write the words of our conversation. I suspect that I am watched more closely than I was, and I know not at what times I may be watched. She had in part suspected, and in part discovered, the main facts of the cruel story, of her husband’s share in it, and my being resorted to. She did not know that the girl was dead. Her hope had been, she said in great distress, to show her, in secret, a woman’s sympathy. Her hope had been to avert the wrath of Heaven from a House that had long been hateful to the suffering many.“She had reasons for believing that there was a young sister living, and her greatest desire was, to help that sister. I could tell her nothing but that there was such a sister; beyond that, I knew nothing. Her inducement to come to me, relying on my confidence, had been the hope that I could tell her the name and place of abode. Whereas, to this wretched hour I am ignorant of both.“These scraps of paper fail me. One was taken from me, with a warning yesterday. I must finish my record today.“She was a good, compassionate lady, and not happy in her marriage. How could she be! The brother distrusted and disliked her, and his influence was all opposed to her; she stood in dread of him, and in dread of her husband too. When I handed her down to the door, there was a child, a pretty boy from two to three years old, in her carriage.“‘For his sake, Doctor,’ she said, pointing to him in tears. ‘I would do all I can to make what poor amends I can. He will never prosper in his inheritance otherwise. I have a presentiment that if no other innocent atonement is made for this, it will one day be required of him. What I have left to call my own—it is little beyond the worth of a few jewels—I will make it the first charge of his life to bestow, with the compassion and lamenting of his dead mother, on this injured family, if the sister can be discovered.’ “She kissed the boy, and said, caressing him, ‘It is for thine own dear sake. Thou wilt be faithful, little Charles?’ The child answered her bravely, ‘Yes!’ I kissed her hand, and she took him in her arms, and went away caressing him. I never saw her more.“As she had mentioned her husband’s name in the faith that I knew it, I added no mention of it to my letter. I sealed my letter, and, not trusting it out of my own hands, delivered it myself that day.“That night, the last night of the year, towards nine o’clock, a man in a black dress rang at my gate, demanded to see me, and softly followed my servant, Ernest Defarge, a youth, up-stairs. When my servant came into the room where I sat with my wife—O my wife, beloved of my heart! My fair young English wife!—we saw the man, who was supposed to be at the gate. Standing silent behind him.“An urgent case in the Rue St. Honore, he said. It would not detain me, he had a coach in waiting.“It brought me here, it brought me to my grave. When I was clear of the house, a black muffler was drawn tightly over my mouth from behind, and my arms were pinioned. The two brothers crossed the road from a dark corner, and identified me with a single gesture. The Marquis took from his pocket the letter I had written, showed it to me, burnt it in the light of a lantern that was held, and extinguished the ashes with his foot. Not a word was spoken. I was brought here, I was brought to my living grave.“If it had pleased God to put it in the hard heart of either of the brothers, in all these frightful years, to grant me any tidings of my dearest wife—so much as to let me know by a word whether alive or dead—I might have thought that He had not quite abandoned them. But, now I believe that the mark of the red cross is fatal to them, and that they have no part in His mercies. And them and their descendants, to the last of their race, I, Alexandre Manette, unhappy prisoner, do this last night of the year 1767, in my unbearable agony, denounce to the times when all these things shall be answered for. I denounce them to Heaven and to earth.”A terrible sound arose when the reading of this document was done. A sound of craving and eagerness that had nothing articulate in it but blood. The narrative called up the most revengeful passions of the time, and there was not a head in the nation but must have dropped before it.Little need, in the presence of that tribunal and that auditory, to show how the Defarges had not made the paper public, with the other captured Bastille memorials borne in procession, and had kept it, biding their time. Little need to show that this detested family name had long been anathematised by Saint Antoine, and was wrought into the fatal register. The man never trod ground whose virtues and services would have sustained him in that place that day, against such denunciation.And all the worse for the doomed man, that the denouncer was a well-known citizen, his own attached friend, the father of his wife. One of the frenzied aspirations of the populace was, for imitations of the questionable public virtues of antiquity, and for sacrifices and self-immolations on the people’s altar. Therefore when the President said (else had his own head quivered on his shoulders), that the good physician of the Republic would deserve better still of the Republic by rooting out an obnoxious family of Aristocrats, and would doubtless feel a sacred glow and joy in making his daughter a widow and her child an orphan, there was wild excitement, patriotic fervour, not a touch of human sympathy.“Much influence around him, has that Doctor?” murmured Madame Defarge, smiling to The Vengeance. “Save him now, my Doctor, save him!”At every juryman’s vote, there was a roar. Another and another. Roar and roar.Unanimously voted. At heart and by descent an Aristocrat, an enemy of the Republic, a notorious oppressor of the People. Back to the Conciergerie, and Death within four-and-twenty hours!
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作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:0
摘要:“我倒以为……"我说。“我应当这样做,"福尔摩斯急躁地说。我自信是一个极有耐性的人;可是,我得承认,他这样嘲笑地打断我的话,的确使我有点不快。因此我严肃地说:“福尔摩斯,说真的,你有时真叫人有点难堪啊。”他全神贯注地沉思,没有即刻回答我的抗议。他一只手支着头,面前放着一口未尝的早餐,两眼凝视着刚从信封中抽出来的那张纸条,然后拿起信封,举到灯前,非常仔细地研究它的外观和封口。 [点击阅读]
恐怖黑唇
作者:佚名
章节:26 人气:0
摘要:第一章恐惧的亡灵复苏1阴谋初露刚刚步入八月份。炎热的太阳就将一切烤得烫人。出租车司机原田光政在这天午后回到家中。他打开大门,从信箱中取出一封信,边看边走进了厨房。走进厨房,原田光政坐在椅子上,准备喝点冷饮,然后再睡上一小时左右的午觉。他深深地感到自己已不是拼命干活的年龄了——近六十岁了。难道这是因为自己长期辛劳而自负了吗?人的自知之明,对于原田说来还是有的。 [点击阅读]
恶月之子
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:0
摘要:仅点燃着烛光的书房里,桌案上电话铃声骤然响起,刹那间,我知道我的生活即将面临一场可怕的转变。我不是算命先生,我也不会观看天象,在我眼里,我掌中的手纹完全无法揭露我的未来,我也不像吉普赛人能从湿得的茶叶纹路洞察命理。父亲病在垂危已有数目,昨夜我在他的病榻旁,替他拭去眉毛上的汗珠,听着他吃力的一呼一吸,我心里明白他可能支撑不了多久。我生怕就这样失去他,害怕自己将面临二十八岁生命中首次孤零零的生活。 [点击阅读]
恶魔
作者:佚名
章节:10 人气:0
摘要:决斗茶桌上摆着两只酒杯,杯子里各装有八成透明如水的液体。那是恰似用精密的计量仪器量过一样精确、标准的八成。两只杯子的形状毫无二致,位置距中心点的距离也像用尺子量过似地毫厘不差。两只杯子从杯子中装的,到外形、位置的过于神经质的均等,总给人一种异乎寻常的感觉。茶桌两边,两张大藤椅同样整齐地对面地放在完全对等的位置;椅上,两个男人像木偶一样正襟危坐。 [点击阅读]
悖论13
作者:佚名
章节:50 人气:0
摘要:听完首席秘书官田上的报告,大月蹙起眉头。此刻他在官邸内的办公室,正忙着写完讲稿,内容和非洲政策有关。下周,他将在阿迪斯阿贝巴①公开发表演说。坐在黑檀木桌前的大月,猛然将椅子反转过来。魁梧的田上站在他面前,有点驼背。“堀越到底有甚么事?是核能发电又出了甚么问题吗?”堀越忠夫是科学技术政策大臣。大月想起前几天,他出席了国际核能机构的总会。“不,好像不是那种问题。与他一同前来的,是JAXA的人。 [点击阅读]
悬崖上的谋杀
作者:佚名
章节:35 人气:0
摘要:博比·琼斯把球放在球座上,击球前球杆简单地轻摆一下,然后慢慢收回球杆,接着以闪电般的速度向下一击。在五号铁头球棒的随便一击下,球会呼啸腾起,越过障碍,又直又准地落到球场的第十四穴处吗?不,远非如此,结果太糟了,球掠过地面,稳稳地陷入了障碍坑洼。没有热心的观众发出沮丧的哼哼声,惟一的目击者也显得一点不吃惊。 [点击阅读]
悬崖山庄奇案
作者:佚名
章节:22 人气:0
摘要:我觉得,英国南部没有哪个滨海小镇有圣卢那么令人流连忘返,因此,人们称它为“水城皇后”真是再恰当也没有了。到了这里,游客便会自然而然地想起维埃拉(译注:法国东南部及意大利西北部的海滨地区,濒临地中海,以风光旖旎著称)。在我的印象里,康沃尔郡的海岸正像法国南方的海滨一样迷人。我把这个想法告诉了我的朋友赫尔克里-波洛。他听了以后说:“昨天餐车里的那份菜单上就是这么说的,我的朋友,所以这并非你的创见。 [点击阅读]
悲惨世界
作者:佚名
章节:65 人气:0
摘要:米里哀先生是法国南部的地区狄涅的主教。他是个七十五岁的老人,原出身于贵族,法国大革命后破落了。他学问渊博,生活俭朴,好善乐施。他把每年从zheng府那里领得的一万五千法郎薪俸,都捐献给当地的慈善事业。被人们称为卞福汝(意为“欢迎”)主教。米里哀先生认为自己活在世上“不是为了自己的生命,而是来保护世人心灵的”。 [点击阅读]
惊险的浪漫
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:0
摘要:帕金顿先生与太太吵了几句,气呼呼地戴上帽子,把门一摔,离家去赶八点四十五分的火车,到市里去上班。帕金顿太太依旧坐在早餐桌前。她的脸涨得通红,紧咬着嘴唇,要不是最后愤怒代替了委屈,她早就哭出来了。“我不会再忍下去了,”帕金顿太太说,“我不会再忍下去了!”她继续想了一会儿,又喃喃道:“那个放荡女人,狡猾卑鄙的狐狸精!乔治怎么会这么傻呢!”愤怒逐渐平息了,悲伤和委屈的感觉又涌上心头。 [点击阅读]
惊魂过山车
作者:佚名
章节:5 人气:0
摘要:───惊魂过山车───1我从来没有把这个故事告诉任何人,也从未想过要告诉别人,倒不是因为我怕别人不相信,而是感到惭愧。因为它是我的秘密,说出来就贬低了自己及故事本身,显得更渺小,更平淡,还不如野营辅导员在熄灯前给孩子们讲的鬼故事。我也害怕如果讲出来,亲耳听见,可能会连自己都开始不相信。但自从我母亲过世后,我一直无法安睡。 [点击阅读]
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