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Two
I
them stood porters with suitcases. One of these called, “Jim!”
The driver of one of the taxis stepped forward.
“You’m for Soldier Island, maybe?” he asked in a soft Devon voice. Four voices gave
assent—and then immediately afterwards gave quick surreptitious glances at each other.
The driver said, addressing his remarks to Mr. Justice Wargrave as the senior member of
the party:
“There are two taxis here, sir. One of them must wait till the slow train from Exeter gets in
— a matter of five minutes — there’s one gentleman coming by that. Perhaps one of you
wouldn’t mind waiting? You’d be more comfortable that way.”
“I’ll wait,” she said, “if you will go on?” She looked at the other three, her glance and
voice had that slight suggestion of command in it that comes from having occupied a position
of authority. She might have been directing which tennis sets the girls were to play in.
which the driver was holding open.
Mr. Justice Wargrave followed her.
Captain Lombard said:
“I’ll wait with Miss—”
“Claythorne,” said Vera.
“My name is Lombard, Philip Lombard.”
The porters were piling luggage on the taxi. Inside, Mr. Justice Wargrave said with due
legal caution:
“Beautiful weather we are having.”
Miss Brent said:
“Yes, indeed.”
A very distinguished5 old gentleman, she thought to herself. Quite unlike the usual type of
man in seaside guest houses. Evidently Mrs. or Miss Oliver had good connections….
Mr. Justice Wargrave inquired:
“Do you know this part of the world well?”
“I have been to Cornwall and to Torquay, but this is my first visit to this part of Devon.”
The judge said:
“I also am unacquainted with this part of the world.”
The taxi drove off.
The driver of the second taxi said:
“Like to sit inside while you’re waiting?”
Vera said decisively:
“Not at all.”
Captain Lombard smiled. He said:
“That sunny wall looks more attractive. Unless you’d rather go inside the station?”
He answered:
“Yes, travelling by train is rather trying in this weather.”
Vera said conventionally:
“I do hope it lasts—the weather, I mean. Our English summers are so treacherous8.”
With a slight lack of originality9 Lombard asked:
“Do you know this part of the world well?”
her position clear at once, “I haven’t even seen my employer yet.”
“Your employer?”
“Yes, I’m Mrs. Owen’s secretary.”
“Oh, I see.” Just imperceptibly his manner changed. It was slightly more assured—easier
in tone. He said: “Isn’t that rather unusual?”
Vera laughed.
“Oh, no, I don’t think so. Her own secretary was suddenly taken ill and she wired to an
agency for a substitute and they sent me.”
“So that was it. And suppose you don’t like the post when you’ve got there?”
Vera laughed again.
“Oh, it’s only temporary—a holiday post. I’ve got a permanent job at a girls’ school. As a
matter of fact, I’m frightfully thrilled at the prospect12 of seeing Soldier Island. There’s been such
a lot about it in the papers. Is it really very fascinating?”
Lombard said:
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen it.”
“Oh, really? The Owens are frightfully keen on it, I suppose. What are they like? Do tell
me.”
Lombard thought: Awkward, this—am I supposed to have met them or not? He said
quickly:
“Yes, I suppose it’s the heat. Who are we waiting for, do you know?”
“I haven’t the least idea.”
The loud drawn-out scream of an approaching train was heard. Lombard said:
“That will be the train now.”
It was a tall soldierly old man who appeared at the exit from the platform. His grey hair
His porter, staggering slightly under the weight of the solid leather suitcase, indicated Vera
and Lombard.
Vera came forward in a competent manner. She said:
“I am Mrs. Owen’s secretary. There is a car here waiting.” She added, “This is Mr.
Lombard.”
The faded blue eyes, shrewd in spite of their age, sized up Lombard. For a moment a
“Good-looking fellow. Something just a little wrong about him….”
The three of them got into the waiting taxi. They drove through the sleepy streets of little
General Macarthur said:
“Don’t know this part of Devon at all. My little place is in East Devon—just on the
borderline of Dorset.”
Vera said:
“It really is lovely here. The hills and the red earth and everything so green and luscious-
looking.”
Philip Lombard said critically:
“It’s a bit shut in … I like open country myself. Where you can see what’s coming….”
General Macarthur said to him:
“You’ve seen a bit of the world, I fancy?”
“I’ve knocked about here and there, sir.”
He thought to himself: “He’ll ask me now if I was old enough to be in the War. These old
boys always do.”
But General Macarthur did not mention the War.
第二章
1
橡树桥车站外，几个人三五成群，表情茫然地站着。这群人身后跟着搬运工，正在搬
他们的箱子，其中一个人喊道：“吉姆！”
其中一个出租车司机走过来。
“你们是去士兵岛吧？”他问道，一口柔和的德文郡口音。
四个人异口同声地回答——又马上以怀疑的目光互相打量起来。
因为瓦格雷夫法官是这群人中的长者，司机便对他说：
“先生，这儿有两辆出租车。不过我们得留下一辆，等一等从埃克塞特开过来的慢车，
那趟车马上就到了——最多再过五分钟——要接乘那趟车来的一位先生。哪一位不介意等
他一下？这样一来，大家的座位就可以宽敞些。”
考虑到自己的秘书身份，维拉·克莱索恩抢先开口道：
“我留下来等吧。各位是不是可以先走一步？”她一边说，一边看着其他三个人，眼神
和语气都透露出自己的职务身份，隐隐有种命令的意味，就像在学校的网球课上让女生遵
循她的安排一样。
布伦特小姐端着架子说了声“辛苦了”。率先弯腰钻进了其中一辆车，司机一只手为她
扶着车门。
随后上车的是瓦格雷夫法官。
隆巴德上校说：
“我和这位小姐一起等吧。”
“我叫维拉·克莱索恩。”维拉说。
“我叫隆巴德。菲利普·隆巴德。”
搬运工正忙着把行李往车上堆。车里，瓦格雷夫法官先生非常绅士地说：
“天气真是不错！”
布伦特小姐答道：
“确实不错。”
这位老先生看起来挺气派的，布伦特小姐暗自思量。和她在海滨旅馆里经常见到的男
人完全不同。如此看来，那位奥利弗小姐或奥利弗夫人交往的都是些上流人士——
瓦格雷夫法官先生问道：
“你对这附近熟悉吗？”
“我去过康沃尔和托基，德文郡这边倒是第一次来。”
瓦格雷夫法官说：
“我对这儿也不熟。”
第一辆出租车开走了。
第二辆出租车的司机说：
“请两位上车等吧！”
维拉果断拒绝道：
“不用了。”
隆巴德上校微微一笑，说：
“外面那堵阳光照着的墙看起来真不错。你想去车站里面等吗？”
“当然不想。好不容易才从那趟拥挤的火车上下来！”
他回应道：
“没错，这么热的天气挤火车确实很不舒服。”
维拉以同样的语气回答：
“我希望能稳定下来——我是说天气。英国夏天的天气总是说变就变。”
隆巴德没话找话地问：
“你来过这里吗？”
“没有，从没来过。”维拉决定实话实说，所以赶紧补充道，“其实，我还没见过我的雇
主。”
“你的雇主？”
“欧文夫人。我是她的秘书。”
“哦，我明白了。”隆巴德的态度起了一种不易察觉的变化，就像心里一块石头落了
地，说话的声音也放松了许多，他说，“你不觉得有点儿奇怪吗？”
维拉笑了。
“我没觉得哪里奇怪啊。欧文夫人原来的秘书突然病了。职业介绍所收到了她发去的电
报，然后就让我来了。”
“原来如此。可是，假如你到了岛上，发现自己不喜欢这份工作，该怎么办呢？”
维拉又笑了。
“这只是兼职，一份暑期工作而已。我在一所女子学校有长期职位。说实话，一想到要
去士兵岛，我心里还有些抵触。报纸上议论纷纷。它真是那么引人注目吗？”
“不知道。我从没来过这座岛。”
“真的吗？欧文一家可喜欢这里了。这座岛究竟是什么模样？给我讲一讲欧文一家
吧。”
隆巴德想：糟糕，我怎么说呢？说见过欧文一家，还是说没见过他们？他灵机一动，
说：“别动！你身上有只马蜂，正在胳膊上爬呢。”他煞有介事地哄赶了一下，“没事了，马
蜂飞走了。”
“谢谢。今年夏天的马蜂可真多。”
“就是。估计是天气太热的缘故。你知道我们现在是在等谁吗？”
“一点儿也不清楚。”
一列火车驶入站台，拖着长音的汽笛声从站台传来。
隆巴德说：
“火车到了。”
从月台出口走出来的是位身材高大、军人气概十足的老人，灰白色的头发剪得很短，
白胡子也修得整整齐齐。
他带来的大皮箱看起来很沉，压得搬运工走起路来都有点儿晃悠。搬运工向维拉和隆
巴德招了招手。
维拉走过去，得体地做自我介绍：
“你好。我是欧文夫人的秘书。出租车已等候多时。”她接着说，“这位是隆巴德先
生。”
老人那双饱经风霜的蓝眼睛已经少了光彩。尽管如此，他打量隆巴德的目光依旧锐
利，只一瞬间，从他的眼神里就能看出，他已经对隆巴德做出了判断。“这个人长得不错。
就是有点儿邪气……”
三人上了出租车。汽车穿过死气沉沉的橡树桥街道，又在普利茅斯大道上行驶了几英
里，然后转进迂曲的乡间小路。那里倒是一片绿意盎然，不过道路又陡又窄。
麦克阿瑟将军说：
“我对德文郡的这一带很不熟悉。我从小在德文郡东部生活，就在多尔塞特旁边。”
维拉说：
“这里真可爱。小山包，红土，一片绿野，景色宜人。”
菲利普·隆巴德挑剔地说：
“就是有些闭塞。我喜欢空旷的乡村，放眼望去，无边无际——”
麦克阿瑟将军问他：
“依我看，你去过不少地方吧？”
隆巴德肩膀一耸：
“东奔西走地去过一些地方。你呢？”
隆巴德心想：估计他下个问题就该问我大战爆发的时候干了什么。这些老家伙都爱吹
牛。
不过，麦克阿瑟将军压根儿没提起大战。
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