推理侦探 》 The Lamp   》 The Lamp      Agatha Christie


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　　There is no doubt that this is an old house, the square is the old, in the parish, people often meet it as outdated as the majesty and ancient things. However, the 19 gives the impression that the oldest old; it has a stately kind of like real parents; it towering, gray is the most gray, the most arrogant and haughty, cold in the cold. Serious, solemn, and with that all the houses in a long time uninhabited barren unique imprint, with its disdain for other buildings.
　　In other dioceses, it certainly is free to define as a "haunted house", but, WEI Min from Manchester is a popular place of spirits, where spirits are rarely seen as something can be respected, unless it is In the "County noble origin" of possessions. Therefore, the No. 19 has never been considered a haunted house, but it is still fallow there, year after year, or on abandoned or on the sale.
　　Mrs. Lancaster side of the house with an agent in the endless walking up behind, while the eyes looked with approval of the house. Agents who are using a kind of amusing manner, and strive to make 19 hands from his house to sell. He _insert_ed the key into it, while continuing to enjoy the full meaning of his introduction.
　　"How long this house has been abandoned?" Asked Mrs. Lancaster, the agent is abruptly interrupted endless stream of words.
　　Gladys (Radi Roosevelt Provincetown) President become a bit panicked.
　　"Uh - uh - for some time." He said gently.
　　"I think so." Mrs. Lancaster said coldly.
　　Dim hall was filled with a dark atmosphere, see, imaginative woman will certainly chatter, but this woman happens to be an excellent hard work, she was tall and long, a pair of cold blue eyes, dark hair in a mix of twelve white silk.
　　She went from house to house loft cellar, from time to time put forward twelve pertinent questions. After review, she returned to the front room, watching the square below, with the determination of the attitude and looked agent.
　　"The house has gone wrong?"
　　Gladys Mr. surprised.
　　"Of course, a no decoration of the house, always a little more or less dark." He was unable to stall.
　　"Nonsense," Mrs. Lancaster said, "This house just so low rent - is purely nominal, which is certainly a reason I guess, the house is a haunted house?"
　　Gladys Mr. shocked, a little panic, but he said nothing.
　　Mrs. Lancaster's sharp eyes staring at him. After a few minutes, she said:
　　"Of course, it is more nonsense, I do not believe in ghosts or something, but, from a personal point of view, it will not hinder me to buy the house, but unfortunately, the servants, they are very gullible , and easily intimidated by these, you'd better tell me the real reason - is what makes this place is disused. "
　　"I - uh - I really do not know." Housing the agent stammered.
　　"I'm sure you know," the lady said quietly, "If you do not tell me the real reason, I do not buy the house. What? As a murderer?"
　　"Oh! No," cried Mr. Gladys was such a great match and square the idea of ​​the dignity of shocked. "It's just - it just because a child."
　　"A child?"
　　"Yes."
　　"I do not know the exact circumstances of this story," he reluctantly continued, "Of course, there are various versions of it, but I believe, about thirty years ago, there was a person called William to buy 19 under the house. about him, people knew nothing about his no servant, no friends, he was rarely out during the day, he had a child, a little boy. moved there about two months later, he went to London, and later, he rarely appeared in the parish until he was recognized out, he implicated a number of cases, was a 'hunt' fugitive - exactly what, I do not know, however, must be very serious, because, compared with the jail, he chose to commit suicide, while the child still live there, a person living alone in the house where his little food, but also support for some time, every day, and waiting for his father's return. Unfortunately, all the time he was firmly told him to remember his father, he will not leave the house, do not tell others he is a weak, sickly little guy, but never not resist the command. In the evening, neighbors who do not know his father had left, they often heard him a room in a deserted terrible cry. "
　　Gladys President paused children.
　　"And - uh - Finally, the child starved to death." He declared with a kind of rainy-day tone of the story will end.
　　"So, in this house is haunted ghost of this child?" Asked Mrs. Lancaster.
　　"Really, that little bit is not important," Gladys said Mr quickly assured her, "What have not seen, no one saw, but some people say it, of course, it's ridiculous, but They said they really heard - the child - crying, you know. "
　　Mrs. Lancaster walked toward the front.
　　"I really like the house," she said, "the price so good, I almost do not need to spend what I think about it, and then give you an answer."
　　"It looks really bright, is not it, Dad?"
　　Mrs. Lancaster, with the approval of the vision inspection of her new territory. Gorgeous carpets, polished shiny new furniture, and decorated with a variety of gadgets, the 19 houses swept away the dark.
　　She is moving in a thin old man speak. A little bent old man's waist, shoulders slightly tilted, with a long and mysterious face Zhanggao Ya. Mr. Wimborne not his daughter. In fact, no hard work rather than her father's fanciful excellent contrast between the greater.
　　"Yes," he smiled and replied, "No one would imagine, this house is a haunted house."
　　"Daddy, Do not nonsense! And this is the first day we moved to."
　　Mr. Wimborne laughed.
　　"Well, my dear, we agree that there is no ghosts or something."
　　"And you," Mrs. Lancaster continued, "Jeffrey said earlier, they do not, because he is so much like fantasy."
　　Jeffrey Mrs. Lancaster is a small boy. The family from the Wimborne, Mr. Jeffrey to his widow daughter and composition.
　　Day of rain, the rain beat on the windows - crackle, crackle.
　　"Listen," said Mr. Wimborne, "That's a lot like gentle footsteps?"
　　"That's more like rain." Mrs. Lancaster said, and smiled.
　　"But, that, that really footsteps." Her father cried, and bent down to listen.
　　Mrs. Lancaster laughed cheerfully.
　　Mr. Wimborne had to laugh. Them in the living room drinking tea, he sat with his back to the stairs, now turn his chair, looked toward the stairs.
　　Jeffrey is walking down a small, go very slow and quiet, with children the kind of specific fear of the unfamiliar environment. Oak staircase, just painted, not carpeted. He walked over and stood next to his mother. Mr. Wimborne slightly surprised when the children walked the floor, he clearly heard footsteps on the stairs there is another string sound, it seems that some people follow Jeffrey. It was a drag on the very slight footsteps. However, he doubts shrug. "Rain, no doubt." He thought.
　　"I do watching sponge cake." Jeffrey said, he looked like an interesting fact that as wonderful and transcendent.
　　His mother quickly take over the conversation.
　　"Ah, well-behaved child, how do you think of your new house?" She asked.
　　"Many," Jeffrey grumble miles Wu Lu replied, Barcelona mouth was full, "pound cake pound cake pound cake." The last sentence clearly expressed his deep satisfaction, he fell into a quiet in as much as possible like the last one who see it as a sponge cake is not only concerned about being removed.
　　After swallowing the last full one, he suddenly begun speaking.
　　"Oh! Mother, there's the attic it, Jane said, I can immediately go there to explore it? There must have a private room, where Jane said no, but I think there certainly, but in any case, I know, There will certainly be tubes, pipes (face haggard expression of ecstasy), and I can play them, but, oh! I can go and see pot - boiler it? "
　　He pulled the last word was long, his face is obvious ecstasy, so that his grandfather that he's very happy childhood was a shame, in his mind emerges out of such a picture, painting Inside, hot water is not hot, and there the heavy stack of bills to pay plumber.
　　"Tomorrow we look at the attic, my dear," Mrs. Lancaster said, "Imagine, you use your brick built a very beautiful building, or an engine."
　　"I do not make 'plate'."
　　"The house."
　　"House, I do not make 'digging motivation'."
　　"Well, it made a boiler." His grandfather suggested.
　　Jeffrey is very happy.
　　"With the tube to make it?"
　　"Yes, with a lot of tubes."
　　Jeffrey happily ran Quban his bricks.
　　Rain also continued under the, Wimborne, Mr. listening. Yes, he certainly heard the sound of rain, but it is really like footsteps.
　　That night, he made a strange dream.
　　He dreamed he walked a parish, in his view, it seems that the parish is a great city, but it was a children's city, where there are no adults, except children, nothing, only child, a group of and a group of children. In the dream, the children rushed to the front of this stranger, cried: "You put him with you?" It seems, he seems to understand what they want, he sadly shook his head, to see when the child They turned and ran, and they began to cry, to sob with great sorrow.
　　City and the children gradually blurred, and he woke up, found himself lying in bed, but the cries still echoed in his ear, although he has been completely sober, and he can still clearly hear the cries of those who . He remembers Jeffrey is sleeping in the building below that level, however, that the child's crying is passed down from above. He sat up, scratched a match, cries soon stopped.
　　Mr. Wimborne not his dream and its outcome to tell his daughter. It was not his fantasy was joking, he is convinced, in fact, that shortly after he heard that cry in the daytime, as if blown into the chimney, but this is not the wind - but clearly crying, not heard of; is the kind of pitiful and heartbreaking cries.
　　He also discovered that he was not the only person who heard it crying. He overheard a maid servant of the living room that she feels that the nanny is certainly not good for the young master, that morning, she heard him crying softly. However, Jeffrey went down to eat breakfast and lunch, and looked full of health and happy. Mr. Wimborne know that Jeffrey is not crying, those cries, is that more than once with dragging footsteps to his surprise, the children sent.
　　Mrs. Lancaster is only one, heard nothing, her ears may not be suitable for receiving another world of sound.
　　But one day she was taken aback.
　　"Mom," Jeffrey said sadly, "I hope you agree with me and the little boy to play with."
　　Mrs. Lancaster elevation from the desk looked up, smiled at him.
　　"Honey, what little boy?"
　　"I do not know his name, he lived in the attic, sitting on the floor crying, but he saw me, he ran away, I think he is very shy (with a little pride and satisfaction), he not like a strong child and then, when I was in the baby room doing my building, I saw that he stood in the doorway staring at me to play, he looks so lonely, it seems, and I very much hope that he to play with, I said: 'come join us to build a "digging motivation" it' but he said nothing, just looked, it looked like - like staring at a lot of my father allowed His touch of chocolate as well. "
　　Jeffrey sighed, obviously, he has started a little boy full of human compassion.
　　"But when I asked the little boy who is Jane, and tell her I want to play with him, she said this house has no other little boy, she wanted me to stop talking about those naughty words, and I is also do not like Jane. "
　　Mrs. Lancaster stood up.
　　"Jane is right, there are no other little boy."
　　"But I saw him. Oh! Mother, so he and I play together, he looks really very lonely, very unhappy, I really hope that we can do, you can 'make him happy little'."
　　Mrs. Lancaster is preparing to speak, but her father shook his head to stop her.
　　"Jeffrey," he said very softly, "That poor little boy was lonely, maybe you can do to comfort him; But how do you have to think of ways - like guessing a mystery - Do you understand? "
　　"That is because I strong? I only own one do that?"
　　"Yes, because you are strong."
　　When children leave the room after Mrs. Lancaster turned to her father's unbearable.
　　"Dad, It is really ridiculous, you encourage a child to believe that the servant's gossip!"
　　"The servants said nothing to the child." Elderly gently said. "He has seen - but, I heard, as if I was his age, I will hear to see."
　　"But, this is nonsense! Why I can not see not hear?"
　　Wimborne, Mr. smiles, strange and tired, but he did not answer her questions.
　　"Why?" Asked his daughter to continue, "And why do you tell him he can help this - this - a small thing, this - this is simply impossible."
　　Old man looked at her with a meditation.
　　"Why not?" He said, "Do you remember those lyrics do
　　? In the dark, what kind of lamps have been given a destiny, to guide the exploration of children who stumble, 'blind man's talent. 'God replied. "
　　"Jeffrey would have this - the blind man's talent, all children have this talent, only when we grow up, we lose it, we only remove it from the body out. Sometimes, when we very old, some faint light will re-ignite us, but this lamp was burning brightest in childhood, which is why I think it might be helpful to Jeffrey. "
　　"I do not understand." Mrs. Lancaster muttered feebly.
　　"I do not understand. That - the child in trouble, he hopes - hopes to get relief, but how we can get relief? I do not know, but - think of it is terrible - it is the heart crying out - this child. "
　　One month after this conversation, Jeffrey suffered a very serious disease. When the wind blew very strongly, and he is not a very strong child. Doctors said the child's illness, shaking his head has been very serious, while Mr. Wimborne, he is more honest, he explicitly acknowledge that you have no hope. "This is not a live child, no matter how hard." He added: "For a long time, he has been suffering from severe lung disease."
　　Jeffrey, when in the care, Lancaster began to slowly feel that his wife - the existence of the other children. At first, those cries and the wind is not able to distinguish large, but gradually, they become more clear, more and more no doubt. Finally, Mrs. Lancaster is also in dead silence heard: it is a child's cries - dark, hopeless, heartbreaking.
　　Jeffrey's situation is getting worse, and in a coma, he kept. Again and again to speak to that child: "I really hope to help you out, I really want to!" He cried.
　　Coma after Jeffrey sank into a deep, very calmly he lay, breathing heavy, seems to have no perception of. In addition to patient and closely monitor the outside, no longer do anything. Followed by a quiet night, fresh air and quiet, without a trace of wind.
　　Suddenly, the child awoke, he opened his eyes, looked around his mother, toward the door. He tried to say something, listen to his mother bent down and whispered: "Yes, I'll come." He whispered, and then, and sleeping in the past.
　　Mother suddenly feel very fear, she ran to her father across the room. Somewhere in their side, having a child in a loud laugh, smile very happy, and satisfied, silvery triumphant laughter echoed in the room.
　　"I am afraid, I am afraid." She was.
　　He surrounded her hand to protect her. A sudden burst of wind suddenly blowing, making the two of them were shocked, but after the wind, left, is just the kind of deathly quiet.
　　Laughter stopped, a faint voice slowly climbed over them, very weak, almost not hear, but it louder and louder, until they can clearly tell the difference, it is footsteps - a slight slowly leave footsteps.
　　Crackle, crackle, they are gone - those familiar, procrastination, and makes footsteps. However - certainly right - suddenly, there came another plus footsteps, but it go fast and light.
　　Then, they use a consistent pace with the moving door.
　　Down, down, down, through the door, shut the door, crackle, crackle, unseen footsteps of the children walked along.
　　Lancaster wife crazy and desperate to listen.
　　"They are two - two!"
　　Her face was gray because of fear, she sprang toward the corner of the crib, but her father stopped her gently, and pointed to the distant.
　　"There." He said simply.
　　Crackle, crackle - sounds more and more faint, blurred.
　　Finally, - endless silence.

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