03 The hotel-owner

 3 The hotel-owner
　　It was fine May weather as I travelled north that day，and as I watched the fields and the trees and the flowers，I wondered why，when I had been a free man，I had stayed in London. I bought some sandwiches at lunch time. I also bought the morning newspaper and read a little about south-east Europe.
　　When I had finished，I got out Scudder's black book and studied it. It was almost full of writing，mostly numbers，although sometimes there was a name. For example，I found the words'Hofgaard'，'Luneville'，and'Avocado'quite often. The word I saw the most was'Pavia'.
　　I was certain that Scudder was using a code. I have always been interested in codes；I enjoy games and numbers and things like that. It seemed to be a number code，where groups of numbers replace letters. I worked on the words，because you can use a word as a key in a number code.
　　I tried for hours，but none of the words helped. Then I fell asleep，and woke up at Dumfries just in time to take the local train into Galloway. There was a man on the platform who worried me a little；he was watching the crowd more closely than I liked. But he didn't look at me，and when I saw myself in a mirror，I understood why；with my brown face and my old clothes I looked just like all the other hill farmers who were getting into the local train.
　　I travelled with a group of these farmers. The train travelled slowly through narrow valleys and then up onto an open moor. There were lakes，and in the distance I could see high mountains.
　　At five o'clock the carriage was empty and I was alone. I got out at the next station，a tiny place in the middle of the moor. An old man was digging in the station garden. He stopped，walked to the train，collected a packet，and went back to his potatoes. A ten-year-old child took my ticket，and I came out of the station onto a white road across the moor.
　　It was a beautiful，clear spring evening. I felt like a boy on a walking holiday，instead of a man of thirty-seven very much wanted by the police. I walked along the road whistling，feeling happier every minute.
　　After some time I left the road and followed a path along a little stream. I was getting tired when I came to a small house. The woman who lived there was friendly，and said I could sleep there. She also gave me an excellent meal.
　　Her husband came home from the hills later in the evening. We talked about cows and sheep and markets，and I tried to remember some of the information I heard，because it might be useful. By ten o'clock I was asleep，and I slept until five o'clock in the morning.
　　The couple refused any money，and by six o'clock I had eaten breakfast and was moving again. I wanted to get back to the railway at a different station. Then I would go back to the east，towards Dumfries. I hoped that if the police were following me，they would think that I had gone on to the coast in the west，where I could escape by ship.
　　I walked in the same beautiful spring weather as before，and still couldn't make myself feel nervous or worried. After a time I came to the railway line，and soon a little station，which was perfect for my plan. There was just a single line and moors all around. I waited until I saw a train in the distance，and then bought a ticket to Dumfries.
　　The only person in the carriage was an old farmer with his sheepdog. He was asleep，and next to him was a newspaper. I picked it up to see if there was any news about me. There was only a short piece about the Langham Place Murder. My servant Paddock had called the police，and the milkman had been arrested. The poor man had spent most of the day with the police，but they had let him go in the evening. The police believed that the real murderer had escaped from London on a train to the north.
　　When I had finished reading，I looked out of the window and noticed that we were stopping at the station where I had got out yesterday. Three men were talking to the man who I had seen digging potatoes. I sat well back from the window and watched carefully. One of the men was taking notes，and I supposed they were from the local police. Then，I saw the child who had taken my ticket talking，and the men looked out across the moor along that road I had taken.
　　As we left the station，the farmer woke up，looked at me，and asked where he was. He had clearly drunk too much.
　　'I'm like this because I never drink，'he said，sadly. 'I haven't touched whisky since last year. Not even at Christmas. And now I've got this terrible headache. '
　　'What did it？'I asked.
　　'A drink they call brandy. I didn't touch the whisky because I don't drink，but I kept drinking this brandy. I'll be ill for a fortnight. 'His voice got slower and slower and soon he fell asleep again.
　　I had planned to leave the train at a station，but it now stopped by a river and I decided this would be better. I looked out of the carriage window and saw nobody，so I opened the door and dropped quickly down into the long grass. My plan was going perfectly until the dog decided that I was stealing something and began to bark loudly. This woke up the farmer who started to shout. He thought I was trying to kill myself. I crawled through the long grass for about a hundred metres and then looked back. The train driver and several passengers were all staring in my direction.
　　Luckily，the dog was now so excited that he pulled the farmer out of the carriage. The farmer began to slide down towards the river. The otner passengers ran to help him，the dog bit somebody，and there was a lot of excited shouting. Soon they had forgotten me，and the next time I looked back，the train was moving again.
　　I was now in the middle of the empty moor，and for the first time I felt really frightened，not of the police but of the people who knew that I knew Scudder's secret. If they caught me，I would be a dead man.
　　I reached the top of a low hill and looked around. To the south，a long way away，I saw something which made me tremble…
　　Low in the sky a small plane was flying slowly across the moor. I was certain that it was looking for me，and I was also certain that it was not the police. I hid low in the heather and watched it for an hour or two as it flew in circles. Finally it disappeared to the south.
　　I did not like this spying from the air，and I began to think that an open moor was perhaps not the best place to hide. I could see distant forests in the east，and decided that would be better country.
　　It was about six o'clock in the evening when I left the moor and entered the trees. I came to a bridge by a house，and there，on the bridge，was a young man. He was sitting smoking a pipe，dreamily watching the water，and holding a book. He jumped up as he heard my feet on the road and I saw a friendly young face.
　　'Good evening to you，'he said in a serious voice. 'It's a fine night to be on the road. '
　　The smell of cooking came from the house.
　　'Is that house a hotel？'I asked.
　　'It certainly is. I'm the owner，and I hope you'll stay the night，because I've been alone for a week. '
　　I sat down next to him and got out my pipe. I began to think this young man might help me.
　　'You're young to own a hotel，'I said.
　　'My father died a year ago and now it's mine. It's not an exciting job for a young man like me. I didn't choose to do it. I want to write books. '
　　'You've got the right job，'I said. 'With all the travellers you meet you could be the best storyteller in the world. '
　　'Not today，'he said. 'Two hundred years ago，there were exciting people on the road，but today there are only cars full of fat old women，and fishermen. You can't make stories out of them. I want to sail up an African river，or live in an Indian village-and write about things like that. '
　　The hotel looked peaceful in the evening sun.
　　'I've travelled a bit，'I said，'and I'd be happy to live in a peaceful place like this. And perhaps you're sitting next to adventure now. I'll tell you a true story，and you can make a book of it if you like. '
　　I told him I was in the gold business in Africa，and I had discovered a group of international thieves. They had chased me to England and had killed my best friend. I described a chase across the desert，and an attack on the ship from Africa. And I described the Langham Place murder in detail. 'You want adventure，'I said，'well，here it is. The thieves are chasing me now，and the police are chasing them. '
　　'It's wonderful！'he whispered.
　　'You believe me，'I said gratefully.
　　'Of course I do，'he said. 'I can believe anything strange. It's things that happen every day that are difficult to believe. '
　　He was very young，but he was the man I needed.
　　'I think my enemies have lost me for the moment. But I must hide and rest for a day or two. Will you help me？'
　　He jumped up and led me to the house. 'You'll be safe here. I can keep a secret. And you'll tell me some more about your adventures，won't you？'
　　As I entered the hotel，I heard the sound of an engine. In the sky to the west was my enemy the plane.
　　He gave me a room at the back of the house. I asked him to watch out for cars and planes and sat down to work on Scudder's little book. As I have said，it was a number code. I had to find the word that was the key to it，and when I thought of the million words it might be，I felt hopeless. But the next afternoon I remembered that Scudder had said a woman called Julia Czechenyi was the key to the Karolides business，so I tried her name as the code key.
　　It was the answer. In half an hour I was reading，with a white face.
　　Suddenly，I heard the sound of a car stopping outside the hotel.
　　Ten minutes later，my young friend came up to my room，his eyes bright with excitement.
　　'There are two men looking for you，'he whispered. They're downstairs now having a drink. They described you very well. I told them you had stayed here last night and had left this morning. '
　　I asked him to describe them. One was a thin man with dark eyes，the other was always smiling and lisped. They were both English；my young friend was certain of this.
　　I took a piece of paper and wrote these words in German. I made it look like one page of a private letter：
　　…Black Stone. Scudder had discovered this，but he could do nothing for a fortnight. I don't think it's any good now because Karolides is uncertain about his plans. But if Mr T. advises，I will do the best I…
　　'Give this to them and say you found it in my bedroom. Ask them to return it to me if they find me. '
　　Three minutes later the car began to move. From behind the curtain I saw two men in it，one thin，one fatter.
　　The young man came back. He was very excited. 'That paper woke them up，'he said，happily. 'The thin man went white，and the fat one whistled. Then they left as quickly as they could. '
　　'Now I'll tell you what I want you to do，'I said. 'Go to the police station and describe the two men to them. Say you think they may have something to do with the London murder. I'm sure those two men will be back here tomorrow morning for more information about me. Tell the police to be here early. '
　　At about eight o'clock the next morning I watched three policemen arrive. They hid their car and came into the hotel. Twenty minutes later another car came towards the hotel，but stopped in some trees about two hundred metres away. The two men inside walked up to the hotel.
　　I had planned to hide in my bedroom and see what happened. But now I had a better idea. I wrote a note to thank the young man for his help，opened my window and dropped out. Watching the hotel carefully，I walked back towards the car in the trees，jumped in，and drove away.




■ 3 旅馆老板
　　那天我向北走，五月的天气风和日丽。我一边望着田野，树木和花草一边琢磨，我本来是自由之身，呆在伦敦干什么。午饭的时候我买了点三明治，又买了份晨报，读了些有关东南欧的事。
　　完事之后，我拿出斯卡德尔的黑笔记本仔细研究。笔记本差不多写满了，大多是数字，时而有个人名。比如，笔记本上常常可以看到“霍夫高”、“吕内维尔”和“阿沃卡多”。见得最多的词是“帕维亚”。
　　可以肯定，斯卡德尔用的是密码。对于密码我一直觉得很有兴趣；我喜欢游戏，数字这类的东西。看起来用的是数字密码，用一组组数字代表字母。我研究本上的文字，因为你可以利用文字作为解开数字密码的钥匙。
　　我试了几个小时。没有一个字有用。后来就睡着了，到邓弗里斯醒来刚好赶上去加洛韦的当地火车。站台有个人让我有点儿担心；他紧盯着过往人群，叫人讨厌。他并没有看我，我自己照照镜子，明白了为什么；我一张古铜色的脸，穿着一身旧衣服，看起来和正上火车的其他山民一模一样。
　　我和山民们一起坐着火车。火车缓慢地在狭窄的山谷中穿行，然后爬上开阔的原野。原野上有一个个湖泊，远处能看到一座座高山。
　　五点钟，车厢空空只剩下我一人。下一站我也下了车，那是个位于荒原中部的小地方。有个老头在车站的园子里挖地。车到了，他停下手里的活，向火车走来，收了个包裹，又回到马铃薯地里去。一个十岁的孩子收了车票，我就出了车站，走上横跨荒原的白色大路。
　　春日的黄昏美丽而清爽。我感到像个野足度假的少年，而不是被警察穷追不舍的、三十七岁的汉子。我一路吹着口哨走下去，越来越觉得美滋滋的。
　　又过了一会儿，我拐下大路沿着溪边的小路走。我感到累时，忽然看到一间小屋。小屋的女主人对我很好，她说我可以睡在那儿。她还让我美餐了一顿。
　　黄昏之后，她丈夫从山里回来了。我们一起聊天，谈牛羊，谈市场，我极力记住听来的情况，因为将来可能用得着。十点钟，我睡着了，早上五点醒来。
　　这对夫妇不肯收我的钱，我六点钟吃完早饭就又上路了。我想在别的车站再上火车。然后登车东行奔邓弗里斯。我想如果警察尾追着我，他们会认为我逃向西边的海岸，在那儿我可以坐船逃跑。
　　走在路上，春日的天气依然美好如初，我仍然不知道什么是紧张和忧虑。过了一会儿，见到铁路，后来见到车站，这个车站对实现我的计划非常理想。只有单轨铁路，周围都是荒原。我等着火车从远处开来，然后买了一张去邓弗里斯的票。
　　车厢里只有一个人，是个老农，带着一只牧羊犬。他正在睡觉，旁边放着一张报纸。我拿起报纸，看看有没有关于我的报道。只有一则关于兰厄姆命案的短讯。我的仆人帕多克报了警，于是那个送奶员就被捕了。那个可怜虫被警察关了大半天，到晚上才让他回家。警察认为真正的凶手已逃离伦敦，坐火车北去了。
　　读完报，向车窗外望去，发现我们就停在昨天我下车的车站。有三个人正在和昨天挖马铃薯的那个人说话。我尽量坐得离车窗远点，仔细观察着。其中一个做着笔记，我猜他们是地方警察。后来我见收票的小孩说话，那几个人顺着我昨天走的路放眼向荒原望着。我们的车离开车站时，那个老农醒了，看了看我，问这是哪里。显然，他喝多了。
　　“我不常喝酒，所以像这个样子，”他说得很伤心。“打去年我一滴威士忌也没沾过。连过圣诞也没有沾。可现在我喝得头痛得要死。”
　　“怎么搞的？”我问。
　　“是那种叫白兰地的酒。由于不喝酒我不沾威士忌，而我老是喝这种白兰地。我可能会病两星期……”他说得越来越慢，很快就又睡着了。
　　我原来打算在某个车站下车，而现在车停在河边，我想这更好。从车窗向外望去，什么人也没有，我于是迅速地打开车门，飞快地跳进高高的草丛中。老农那条狗却断定我在偷什么东西，于是狂吠起来，这下把我好好的计划打乱了。老农醒了，也开始叫喊。他认为我想自杀。我在高草丛里爬了大概有一百米然后回头看了看。火车司机还有许多乘客都盯着我这个方向。
　　万幸的是那条狗激动得一下把老农甩到车厢外边。老农顺着河坡滚下去。其他旅客跑过去帮忙，狗又咬了谁，乱糟糟吵作一团。不久就把我给忘了，再回头一看，火车又开了。
　　现在我身处荒原中央，头一回感到害怕，不是怕警察，而是怕那些知道我了解斯卡德尔秘密的人。万一他们抓住我，我就完了。
　　我爬到一座小丘的顶上，四下望着。向南远远望去，我看到一样东西，吓得我浑身发抖……
　　在天空有一架小飞机低飞着，缓缓穿过荒原。肯定这是在找我，也肯定不是警察。我贴身藏在石楠丛中，望着飞机绕圈子，一直望了一两个小时。最后飞机消失在南方。
　　我讨厌这种空中间谍行径，同时想到开阔的荒原大概并非理想的藏身之处。东边我可以看到远处的树林，觉得那是个好地方。
　　大约黄昏六点钟，我离开荒原，钻入树林。我走到一座桥上，桥旁有一座房子，桥上有一个年轻人。他坐在那儿，叼着烟斗迷迷糊糊地望着河水，手里拿着一本书。听到我的脚步声，他跳了起来，我看到他那张和善的面孔。
　　“晚上好，”他一本正经地说，“这样的晚上走路可真不错。”
　　房子里飘出做饭的香味。
　　“这是旅店吗？”我问道。
　　“当然，我就是老板。希望您留下过夜，我独自一人已经一周了。”
　　我靠着他坐下，掏出烟斗来。开始想这个年轻人也许能帮我的忙。
　　“您这么年轻就开旅店了。”我说。
　　“我父亲一年前去世了，把旅馆传给了我。这种事对我这样的年轻人不来劲。这不是我要干的，我想写书。”
　　“那您这工作正好，”我说。“您接待这么多客人，肯定能成为世界上最棒的小说家。”
　　“现在不行了，”他说。“二百年前路上过往的人多带劲，可现在满车都是胖女人和渔夫。您没法拿他们编故事。我想在非洲一条河里扬帆而上，或者在印度的农村住下——写些像这样的事情。”
　　这家旅店在夕阳下宁静祥和。
　　“我出过几次门，”我说，“要是能住在这样宁静的地方就够开心了。而且现在惊险的事就在您身边。让我给您讲个真事，如果您愿意，可以拿它写本书。”
　　我告诉他我在非洲做黄金生意，而且发现了一个国际盗窃集团。他们追我追到英格兰，而且把我的好朋友给杀了。我给他绘声绘色地讲大漠追踪、非洲船上的袭击。我又详细地讲了兰厄姆的谋杀。“您要听惊险的事，”我说，“这里就有。这帮窃贼正在追杀我，而警察也正在追捕他们。”
　　“太好了！”他低声说。
　　“您信得过我，”我心怀感激地说。
　　“当然信得过，”他说。“什么怪事我都信。天天见到的事倒是让人难以相信的。”
　　他还年轻，但我正需要这样的人。
　　“我想我的仇人这会儿不知道我哪儿去了。但我必须躲起来而且休息一两天。您能帮忙吗？”
　　他跳起来，把我领进屋去。“这儿很安全。我可以保密。您多说说您的冒险故事，好不好？”
　　一进旅店我就听到发动机的声音。敌人的飞机就在西边的天上。
　　他把我安置在后面的一间屋里。我求他注意观察汽车和飞机，然后就坐下来研究斯卡德尔的小笔记本。以前说过，这是数字暗码。我必须找到解码的关键字，而当我想到有几百万个字的可能性时，感到束手无策。但是第二天下午，我想起斯卡德尔说过一个叫朱莉娅·采奇尼的女人是卡罗里德斯事件的关键，因此，我试着用她的名字作解码的钥匙。
　　答案有了。我读了半个小时，惊得脸色煞白。
　　突然，我听到旅店门外汽车的刹车声。
　　十分钟后，年轻的朋友到我屋来，兴奋得两眼发光。
　　“有两个人正在找您，”他小声说。“现在在楼下喝水。他们把您的相貌说得一点儿不差。我告诉他们您昨天晚上在这儿过夜了，今天早晨走的。”
　　我问他们什么长相。一个是黑眼睛的瘦削男人，另一个总是满脸笑容，说话口齿不清。他们都是英国人。这一点我这位年轻的朋友十分肯定。
　　我拿出一张纸，用德文写出下列的字。我让这些文字看起来像是一页私人信件：
　　……黑石。斯卡德尔已经发现了。但在两周之内他没有办法。我觉得情况不妙，因为现在卡罗里德斯对他的行动还未下决心。但如果T先生要求那样，我会尽力……
　　“请把这个给他们，就说您在我卧室发现的。就说如果他们能找到我，把这个还给我。”
　　三分钟后，汽车启动了。从窗帘后面看到车里坐着两个人，一瘦一胖。
　　那个年轻人回来了。他异常兴奋。“那张纸让他们坐不住了。”他兴高彩烈地说：“瘦子的脸变得煞白，胖子吹起了口哨。后来就忙不迭地走了。”
　　“来，我告诉您下一步怎么做，”我说。“去警察局告诉他们这两个人什么长相。并说您觉得他们和伦敦的谋杀案可能有关。这两个人明天早晨肯定回来再打听我的消息。告诉警察早点到这儿来。”
　　第二天早晨大约八点，我看到三个警察来了。他们把车隐蔽起来就进了旅店。二十分钟之后，又一辆车奔旅店开来，但停在离旅店大约二百米的树林中。车里的两个人向旅店走来。
　　本来我打算躲在卧室不出来，看看动向。现在我有个更好的主意。我给年轻人写了张条子，对他的帮助表示感谢，然后打开窗户，跳了出去。我一边向树林里的汽车走去，一边小心翼翼地观察旅店的情形，然后跳进车，疾驰而去。