领略原汁原味汉英对照经典名作
白化士兵
      The ideas of my friend Watson, though limited, are exceedingly pertinacious. For a long time he has worried me to write an experience of my own. Perhaps I have rather invited this persecution, since I have often had occasion to point out to him how superficial are his own accounts and to accuse him of pandering to popular taste instead of confining himself rigidly to facts and figures. “Try it yourself, Holmes!” he has retorted, and I am compelled to admit that, having taken my pen in my hand, I do begin to realize that the matter must be presented in such a way as may interest the reader. The following case can hardly fail to do so, as it is among the strangest happenings in my collection, though it chanced that Watson had no note of it in his collection. Speaking of my old friend and biographer, I would take this opportunity to remark that if I burden myself with a companion in my various little inquiries it is not done out of sentiment or caprice, but it is that Watson has some remarkable characteristics of his own to which in his modesty he has given small attention amid his exaggerated estimates of my own performances. A confederate who foresees your conclusions and course of action is always dangerous, but one to whom each development comes as a perpetual surprise, and to whom the future is always a closed book, is indeed an ideal helpmate.
      I find from my notebook that it was in January , 1903, just after the conclusion of the Boer War, that I had my visit from Mr. James M. Dodd, a big, fresh, sunburned, upstanding Briton. The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association. I was alone.
      It is my habit to sit with my back to the window and to place my visitors in the opposite chair, where the light falls full upon them. Mr. James M. Dodd seemed somewhat at a loss how to begin the interview. I did not attempt to help him, for his silence gave me more time for observation. I have found it wise to impress clients with a sense of power, and so I gave him some of my conclusions.
      “From South Africa, sir, I perceive.”
      “Yes, sir,” he answered, with some surprise.
      “Imperial Yeomanry , I fancy.”
      “Exactly.”
      “Middlesex Corps, no doubt.”
      “That is so. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard.”
      I smiled at his bewildered expression.
      “When a gentleman of virile appearance enters my room with such tan upon his face as an English sun could never give, and with his handkerchief in his sleeve instead of in his pocket, it is not difficult to place him. You wear a short beard, which shows that you were not a regular. You have the cut of a ridingman. As to Middlesex, your card has already shown me that you are a stockbroker from Throgmorton Street. What other regiment would you join?”
      “You see everything.”
      “I see no more than you, but I have trained myself to notice what I see. However, Mr. Dodd, it was not to discuss the science of observation that you called upon me this morning. What has been happening at Tuxbury Old Park?”
      “Mr. Holmes—!”
      “My dear sir, there is no mystery. Your letter came with that heading, and as you fixed this appointment in very pressing terms it was clear that something sudden and important had occurred.”
      “Yes, indeed. But the letter was written in the afternoon, and a good deal has happened since then. If Colonel Emsworth had not kicked me out—”
      “Kicked you out!”
      “Well, that was what it amounted to. He is a hard nail, is Colonel Emsworth. The greatest martinet in the Army in his day, and it was a day of rough language, too. I couldn’t have stuck the colonel if it had not been for Godfrey’s sake.”
      I lit my pipe and leaned back in my chair.
      “Perhaps you will explain what you are talking about.”
      My client grinned mischievously.
      “I had got into the way of supposing that you knew everything without being told,” said he. “But I will give you the facts, and I hope to God that you will be able to tell me what they mean. I’ve been awake all night puzzling my brain, and the more I think the more incredible does it become.
      “When I joined up in January , 1901—just two years ago— young Godfrey Emsworth had joined the same squadron. He was Colonel Emsworth’s only son—Emsworth, the Crimean V.C.—and he had the fighting blood in him, so it is no wonder he volunteered. There was not a finer lad in the regiment. We formed a friendship—the sort of friendship which can only be made when one lives the same life and shares the same joys and sorrows. He was my mate—and that means a good deal in the Army. We took the rough and the smooth together for a year of hard fighting. Then he was hit with a bullet from an elephant gun in the action near Diamond Hill outside Pretoria. I got one letter from the hospital at Cape Town and one from South Hampton. Since then not a word— not one word, Mr.Holmes, for six months and more, and he my closest pal.
      “Well, when the war was over, and we all got back, I wrote to his father and asked where Godfrey was. No answer. I waited a bit and then I wrote again. This time I had a reply , short and gruff. Godfrey had gone on a voyage round the world, and it was not likely that he would be back for a year. That was all.
     “I wasn’t satisfied, Mr. Holmes. The whole thing seemed to me so damned unnatural. He was a good lad, and he would not drop a pal like that. It was not like him. Then, again, I happened to know that he was heir to a lot of money, and also that his father and he did not always hit it off too well. The old man was sometimes a bully, and young Godfrey had too much spirit to stand it. No, I wasn’t satisfied, and I determined that I would get to the root of the matter. It happened, however, that my own affairs needed a lot of straightening out, after two years’ absence, and so it is only this week that I have been able to take up Godfrey’s case again. But since I have taken it up I mean to drop everything in order to see it through.”
      Mr. James M. Dodd appeared to be the sort of person whom it would be better to have as a friend than as an enemy. His blue eyes were stern and his square jaw had set hard as he spoke.

中文翻译
      我朋友华生虽然想法不多，仅有的想法却都顽固得出奇。长期以来，他一直在苦苦纠缠，逼着我自己写一篇讲述以往经历的文字。这兴许是我自讨苦吃，因为我经常都得指出他的毛病，说他写的那些故事如何如何肤浅，还说他只知道迎合大众的口味，不懂得严格地遵循事实和数据。“你自个儿试试好了，福尔摩斯！”这就是他的反驳。不容否认的是，提起笔来之后，我自己确实有所体会，既然是写故事，那就必须写成读者爱看的样子。下面这个案子读者肯定爱看，因为它是我那份记录当中最离奇的案子之一，只不过碰巧被华生漏掉了而已。既然说到了我这位老朋友兼传记作者，我不妨趁机补充一点，侦办各种区区小案的时候，我之所以要不辞辛苦地拖上一名同伴，并不是因为我感情用事，也不是因为我突发奇想，而是因为华生确实有他的独到之处，只不过他性情谦退，光顾着过甚其词地吹捧我的事迹，没有留意到他自己的优点。如果你的同伴能够预见你的结论和行动方略，那样的同伴只能说是非常危险，反过来，如果他自始至终都对事态的变化感到惊诧莫名，自始至终都对未来一片茫然，那倒可以算是一位不折不扣的理想助手。按照我记事本里的记录，詹姆斯•M. 多德先生登门造访的时间是一九零三年一月，也就是布尔战争刚刚打完的时候。多德先生是一位魁梧挺拔、朝气蓬勃的英国公民，皮肤被太阳晒得黝黑。那阵子，华生老兄已经做下了我记忆之中唯一的一件只顾自己不顾交情的勾当，抛下我去讨了一个老婆。多德先生上门的时候，屋里只有我一个人。
      我的习惯是自己坐在背对窗子的位置，把我对面的椅子留给客人，好让他们完全暴露在天光之下。詹姆斯•M. 多德先生似乎是不知道怎么开口，而我也没有帮助他打破沉默，原因是我可以借此机会多观察他一会儿。我早就已经发现，明智的做法是一上来就让主顾领教一下我的本事，到这会儿，我便把一部分的观察结论说了出来。
      “据我看，先生，您一定是从南非回来的。”
      “是的，先生。”他多少有点儿诧异地回答道。
      “以前是在帝国义勇骑兵部队，应该没错。”
      “没错。”
      “米德尔塞克斯义勇骑兵团，毫无疑问。”
      “确实是这样。福尔摩斯先生，您简直跟巫师一样灵。”
       看到他迷惑不解的表情，我不由得笑了起来。
       “一位英武的先生走进我的房间，脸上带着英国太阳晒不出的那种黝黑颜色，手帕又塞在袖子里，没有揣进口袋，看到这些情况，这位先生来自何方并不是一个很难推测的问题。短短的胡须说明您并不属于正规部队，您的仪态则 表明了骑兵的身份。至于米德尔塞克斯嘛，您的名片写得明明白白，您在索格莫顿街做股票生意，既然如此，您当初加入的还能是哪个团呢？”
      “什么都让您看见啦。”
      “我看见的东西并不比您多，只不过我对自己进行过一番训练，能够确确实实地留意到自己看见的东西。好啦，多德先生，今早您来找我，肯定不是为了探讨观察的艺术。说吧，塔克斯伯里老庄园出了什么事呢？”
      “福尔摩斯先生——！”
      “亲爱的先生，这里面可没有什么玄虚啊。您那封信的抬头上就有这个地名，还有啊，您这么火急火燎地约我见面，显然是遇上了严重的突发事件。”
      “是的，确实是这样。可我的信是昨天下午写的，写完之后又发生了很多事情。如果埃姆斯沃思上校没把我撵出来的话——”
      “把您撵出来！”
      “呃，事情确实发展到了这种地步。他硬得跟钉子似的，埃姆斯沃思上校就是这么个人。当年他就是陆军当中最厉害的老古板，他那个年代又不讲什么客气。要不是为了戈弗雷，我才不会去招惹他呢。”
      我点起烟斗，往椅子背上一靠。
      “麻烦您解释一下，您到底在说什么。”
      我的主顾咧开嘴，顽皮地笑了笑。
      “我已经习惯成自然，以为您什么都知道，用不着我来说了。”
      他说道。“好了，我这就把事情的经过告诉您，但愿您能告诉我，这到底是怎么回事。昨晚我没有睡觉，翻来覆去地想了一宿，越想越觉得莫名其妙。
      “一九○一年一月，也就是整整两年之前，我加入了年青的戈弗雷•埃姆斯沃思所在的那个中队。他是埃姆斯沃思上校的独子，上校在克里米亚战争当中赢得过维多利亚十字勋章。他身上流着战士的血液，参加义勇军也是理所当然的事情。我们那个团里再没有比他更出色的小伙子啦。我俩慢慢地有了交情，这样的交情只有同舟共济、同甘共苦的朋友才能有。他是我的伙伴，在军队当中，‘伙伴’可是个了不得的字眼。我俩打了一年的恶仗，是好是歹都在一起。后来呢，我们在比勒陀利亚外面的钻石山附近执行任务，敌人用猎象枪打中了他。他从开普敦的医院写了封信给我，又从南安普敦写了一封，再后来就一个字也没有了——一个字都没有，福尔摩斯先生，到现在已经大半年了，亏他还是我最好的伙伴呢。
      “战争结束之后，我们都回了国。于是我写信给戈弗雷的父亲，跟他打听戈弗雷的下落，可他没有答复我。我等了一段时间，然后又写信去问。这一次倒是有了答复，只可惜又简短又生硬。他只是说戈弗雷坐船环游世界去了，一年之内都不会回来，别的就没有了。
      “我可不能就此罢休，福尔摩斯先生，在我看来，整件事情都古怪得要命。戈弗雷是个好小伙儿，绝不会就这么扔下一个老朋友。他不会这么干的。再者说，我碰巧知道他是一大笔遗产的继承人，还知道他和他父亲并不总是那么合拍。老爷子有时候喜欢欺负人，年青的戈弗雷又是个暴脾气，不乐意逆来顺受。不成，我绝不能就此罢休，于是就决定把这件事情追查到底。不巧的是，我刚刚在国外待了两年，自个儿也有一大堆事情需要清理，所以呢，一直到这个星期，我才有工夫回头调查戈弗雷的事情。不过，既然我已经开始调查，那就一定会放下所有的事情，查清楚才能算数。”
      看样子，遇上了詹姆斯•M. 多德先生这样的人，你最好是跟他交朋友，不要与他为敌。说话的时候，他那双蓝色的眼睛一瞬不瞬，方正的下巴也绷得紧紧的。