领略原汁原味汉英对照经典名作
布鲁斯-帕廷顿图纸

      In the third week of November, in the year 1895, a dense yellow fog settled down upon London. From the Monday to the Thursday I doubt whether it was ever possible from our windows in Baker Street to see the loom of the opposite houses. The first day Holmes had spent in cross-indexing his huge book of references. The second and third had been patiently occupied upon a subject which he had recently made his hobby—the music of the Middle Ages. But when, for the fourth time, after pushing back our chairs from breakfast we saw the greasy, heavy brown swirl still drifting past us and condensing in oily drops upon the window-panes, my comrade’s impatient and active nature could endure this drab existence no longer. He paced restlessly about our sitting-room in a fever of suppressed energy, biting his nails, tapping the furniture, and chafing against inaction.
      “Nothing of interest in the paper, Watson?” he said.
      I was aware that by anything of interest, Holmes meant anything of criminal interest. There was the news of a revolution, of a possible war, and of an impending change of government; but these did not come within the horizon of my companion. I could see nothing recorded in the shape of crime which was not commonplace and futile. Holmes groaned and resumed his restless meanderings.
      “The London criminal is certainly a dull fellow,” said he in the querulous voice of the sportsman whose game has failed him. “Look out of this window, Watson. See how the figures loom up, are dimly seen, and then blend once more into the cloud-bank. The thief or the murderer could roam London on such a day as the tiger does the jungle, unseen until he pounces, and then evident only to his victim.”
      “There have,” said I, “been numerous petty thefts.”
      Holmes snorted his contempt.
      “This great and sombre stage is set for something more worthy than that,” said he. “It is fortunate for this community that I am not a criminal.”
      “It is, indeed!” said I heartily.
      “Suppose that I were Brooks or Woodhouse, or any of the fifty men who have good reason for taking my life, how long could I survive against my own pursuit? A summons, a bogus appointment, and all would be over. It is well they don’t have days of fog in the Latin countries—the countries of assassination. By Jove! here comes something at last to break our dead monotony.”
It was the maid with a telegram. Holmes tore it open and burst out laughing.
      “Well, well! What next?” said he. “Brother Mycroft is coming round.”
      “Why not?” I asked.
      “Why not? It is as if you met a tram-car coming down a country lane. Mycroft has his rails and he runs on them. His Pall Mall lodgings, the Diogenes Club, Whitehall—that is his cycle. Once, and only once, he has been here. What upheaval can possibly have derailed him?”
      “Does he not explain?”
      Holmes handed me his brother’s telegram.
      Must see you over Cadogan West. Coming at once.
      Mycroft.
      “Cadogan West? I have heard the name.”
      “It recalls nothing to my mind. But that Mycroft should break out in this erratic fashion! A planet might as well leave its orbit. By the way, do you know what Mycroft is?”
I had some vague recollection of an explanation at the time of the Adventure of the Greek Interpreter.
      “You told me that he had some small office under the British government.”
Holmes chuckled.
      “I did not know you quite so well in those days. One has to be discreet when one talks of high matters of state. You are right in thinking that he is under the British government. You would also be right in a sense if you said that occasionally he is the British government.”
      “My dear Holmes!”
      “I thought I might surprise you. Mycroft draws four hundred and fifty pounds a year, remains a subordinate, has no ambitions of any kind, will receive neither honour nor title, but remains the most indispensable man in the country.”
      “But how?”
      “Well, his position is unique. He has made it for himself.
There has never been anything like it before, nor will be again. He has the tidiest and most orderly brain, with the greatest capacity for storing facts, of any man living. The same great powers which I have turned to the detection of crime he has used for this particular business. The conclusions of every department are passed to him, and he is the central exchange, the clearing-house, which makes out the balance. All other men are specialists, but his specialism is omniscience. We will suppose that a minister needs information as to a point which involves the Navy, India, Canada and the bimetallic question; he could get his separate advices from various departments upon each, but only Mycroft can focus them all, and say offhand how each factor would affect the other. They began by using him as a short-cut, a convenience; now he has made himself an essential. In that great brain of his everything is pigeon-holed and can be handed out in an instant. Again and again his word has decided the national policy. He lives in it.
      He thinks of nothing else save when, as an intellectual exercise, he unbends if I call upon him and ask him to advise me on one of my little problems. But Jupiter is descending to-day. What on earth can it mean? Who is Cadogan West, and what is he to Mycroft?”
      “I have it,” I cried, and plunged among the litter of papers upon the sofa. “Yes, yes, here he is, sure enough! Cadogan West was the young man who was found dead on the Underground on Tuesday morning.”
      Holmes sat up at attention, his pipe halfway to his lips.
      “This must be serious, Watson. A death which has caused my brother to alter his habits can be no ordinary one. What in the world can he have to do with it? The case was featureless as I remember it. The young man had apparently fallen out of the train and killed himself. He had not been robbed, and there was no particular reason to suspect violence. Is that not so?”
      “There has been an inquest,” said I, “and a good many fresh facts have come out. Looked at more closely, I should certainly say that it was a curious case.”

 

中文翻译
      一八九五年十一月的第三个星期，浓重的黄雾在伦敦扎下了营盘。现在我依然怀疑，在那个星期，星期一到星期四的那段时间里，从我们贝克街寓所的窗子望出去，究竟有没有过能看见对面房子轮廓的时候。第一天，福尔摩斯打发时间的方法是替他那本大部头参考手册编制互见索引，第二天和第三天，他耐着性子研究中世纪的音乐，那是他新近培养起来的一个爱好。可是，到了第四天，我们又一次吃完早饭，把椅子从餐桌跟前挪开，又一次看见那股油乎乎、沉甸甸的黄褐色涡流飘过眼前，看见它在窗子玻璃上凝成一颗颗油汪汪的水珠，我这位天生急躁好动的室友终于对这种死水一潭的生活忍无可忍。无处发泄的精力驱使他没完没了地在客厅里踱来踱去，咬着指甲、敲着家具，为这种百无聊赖的局面大光其火。
“报纸上找不出什么有意思的东西吗，华生？”
      他说道。
      我早就已经知道，福尔摩斯嘴里的“有意思”，意思就是有意思的罪案。报纸上讲到了一次革命，讲到了一场可能爆发的战争，还讲到了一个即将更迭的政府，只可惜，这些事情都不在我室友的考虑范围之内。我没能在报纸上找到什么奇案大案，福尔摩斯哀叹一声，没完没了的踱步再次开始。
      “毫无疑问，伦敦的罪犯都是些庸碌之辈，”他说话的口气愤愤不平，活脱脱是一名找不到称心猎物的猎手。“你往窗子外面看看吧，华生。看看那些人影，看他们怎么渐渐浮现，模模糊糊地露个脸，转眼就再次消失在浓雾之中。这样的日子里，窃贼和凶手完全可以放开手脚嘛，他们可以在伦敦随意游荡，就像是密林之中的老虎，即便到了发起突袭的那一刻，也只有受害者能把他们看个清楚。”
      “报纸上登了啊，”我说道，“小偷小摸的事情多得很呢。”
      福尔摩斯不屑一顾地哼了一声。
      “这么一个恢宏肃穆的舞台是为那些更有分量的演出准备的，”他说道，“我没有成为一名罪犯，这个社会真应该感到庆幸。”
      “确实如此，千真万确！”我发自肺腑地表示同意。
      “假设我是布鲁克斯或者伍德豪斯，或者是其他某个有充分理由取我性命的人，那样的人一共有五十个，那么，面临我自己的追杀，我能活多久呢？一张传票、一次虚假的约会，一切不就完结了嘛。那些暗杀成风的拉美国家没有雾天，倒还真是件好事哩。
      天哪！瞧，终于有点儿事情来打破这种死气沉沉的局面了。”
      原来是女仆送来了一封电报。福尔摩斯拆开电报，突然间大笑起来。
      “好，好啊！接下来会是什么呢？”他说道，“眼下的事情是，我哥哥迈克罗夫特要来了。”
      “这有什么好奇怪的呢？”我问道。
      “有什么好奇怪？这样的情形好比是一辆有轨电车出现在了乡村小路上。迈克罗夫特有他自己的轨道，轻易也不会脱轨。位于朴尔莫尔大街的寓所、第欧根尼俱乐部，再加上白厅，他生活的圈子不外如是。他来过这儿一次，也只有那么一次。眼下他居脱离了自己的轨道，到底是出了什么样的乱子呢？”
      “他自己没有说吗？”
      福尔摩斯把他哥哥的电报递给了我。
      因卡多根•韦斯特事亟需面晤。即往你处。
      迈克罗夫特
      “卡多根•韦斯特？我听说过这个名字。”
      “我倒是一点儿印象也没有。不过，想想吧，迈克罗夫特竟然会以这么古怪的方式打破常规！简直就跟行星脱离了轨道差不多。
      对了，你知道迈克罗夫特是干什么的吗？”
      我依稀记得，在处理“希腊译员案”的时候，福尔摩斯曾经跟我说过这件事情。
      “你以前告诉过我，他是中央政府的一名小职员。”
      福尔摩斯吃吃地笑了起来。
      “那个时候，我还不怎么了解你呢。谈论国家大事的时候，不谨慎一点儿是不行的。你说他替中央政府做事，没错；如果你说他有些时候就是中央政府，从某种意义上说，也没错。”
      “亲爱的福尔摩斯！”
      “我就知道你多半会大吃一惊。迈克罗夫特一年只挣四百五十镑，老老实实地待在幕僚的位置上，没有任何雄心壮志，得不到任何荣誉和头衔，即便如此，他仍然是这个国家里最不可或缺的人物。”
      “怎么叫不可或缺呢？”
      “这么说吧，他占据着一个独一无二的位置。这样的位置是他自己给自己打造的，以前不曾有过，将来也不会再有。他的头脑极度缜密、极有条理、极其擅长储存事实，世上无人可以匹敌。
我用来侦破罪案的那些高超本领他也有，只不过被他用在了他自个儿的特殊行当上。政府各部的决议都会从他手里经过，他好比是情报交换中枢，好比是票据交换所，各个账户的盈亏都在他那里得到体现。其他的人都是擅长某一方面的专家，他的专长则是无所不知。打个比方说，某位大臣需要了解某个问题，那个问题同时牵扯到海军事务、印度事务、加拿大事务和金银复本位货币制度。在这种情况下，那位大臣固然可以从相关部门分别取得相关的材料，可是，只有迈克罗夫特同时掌握所有的材料，能够随口说出各种因素之间的相互影响。刚开始的时候，他们只是把他当成一条捷径、一道方便之门，眼下呢，他已经把自己变成了一个不可缺少的人物。他那颗了不起的头脑分门别类地储存着所有的材料，要用的时候就可以马上取出来。他的意见一次又一次地决定了国家的大政方针，这就是他全部的生活。别的事情他一概不想，只有在我向他求教的时候，他才会放松放松，想想我带去的那些小问题，权当是练练脑子。可是，这样一位大神却在今天从天而降，究竟会是什么意思呢？卡多根•韦斯特到底是谁，他跟迈克罗夫特又有什么关系呢？”
      “我知道了，”我嚷了一句，一头扎进了沙发上那堆乱七八糟的报纸。“没错，没错，他就在这儿，错不了！卡多根•韦斯特就是那个小伙子，星期二早晨，人们在地铁里发现了他的尸体。”这句话立刻攫住了福尔摩斯的注意，他坐直身子，正在往嘴里送的烟斗停在了半空。
      “这件事情一定是非常严重，华生。能让我哥哥改变自己的生活习惯，这样的死亡事件一定不一般。说到底，他跟这件事情能有什么关系呢？按我的记忆，这件案子并没有什么特异之处啊。
这个小伙子显然是掉到了车厢外面，自个儿摔死的。他没有遭到抢劫，身上也没有明显的暴力伤害迹象，难道我说得不对吗？”
      “死因调查已经结束了，”我说道，“他们又发现了很多新的情况。要我说，细看起来，这还真是件古怪的案子呢。”

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