推理侦探 灯 The Lamp   》 灯 The Lamp      阿加莎·克里斯蒂 Agatha Christie


     The Lamp
  毫无疑问,这是一间老房子,整个广场都是古老的,在教区里,人们经常会遇见像它那样不合时宜的威严而古老的东西。但是,19号给人的印象是古老中最古老的;它具有那种真正的家长似的庄严;它高耸着,是灰色中的最灰色,傲慢中的最傲慢,冰冷中的最冰冷。严肃,冷峻,以及带着那种所有房子在长时间内无人居住所特有的荒芜印记,它傲视着其他建筑物。
   在别的教区中,它肯定被自由地定义为“鬼屋”了,但是,韦敏斯特是一个不受鬼神欢迎的地方,在那里,鬼神很少被看作是可以尊敬的东西,除非是在“郡出身的贵族”的属地。所以,第19号从来没被认为是一栋鬼屋,但是,它仍然被荒置在那里,一年又一年,要么就废置,要么就出售。
   兰开斯特太太一边跟在滔滔不绝的房屋代理人身后往上走,一边用赞许的目光打量着这栋房子。那位代理人正用着一种引人发笑的态度,努力要把19号房子从他的手中卖出去。他把钥匙插了进去,一边继续着他那充满欣赏意味的介绍。
   “这栋房子已经废置多久了?”兰开斯特太太问道,非常唐突地打断了代理人滔滔不绝的话流。
   拉迪斯(拉迪斯·福普洛)先生变得有点儿惊慌失措。
   “呃——呃——有一段时间了。”他温和地说道。
   “我也觉得是这样。”兰开斯特太太冷冷地说道。
   朦胧的大厅里弥漫着一种阴森的气氛,看到这些,富有想象力的女人肯定会发起抖来,但是,这个女人恰好是一个卓越实干的人,她长着高高的个子,一双冷冷的蓝眼睛,漆黑的头发中掺杂了一两根白丝。
   她从房子的阁楼走到房子的地窖,并不时地提出一两个中肯的问题。审查结束后,她回到前面的房间里,看着下面的广场,用坚毅的态度直视着代理人。
   “这栋房子出了什么问题?”
   拉迪斯先生吃了一惊。
   “当然,一栋没有装修的房子,总是多多少少有点阴暗的。”他无力地搪塞着。
   “胡说,”兰开斯特太太说道,“这样的房子只要如此低的租金——纯粹是名义上的,里面肯定有原因。我猜想,这栋房子是不是一栋鬼屋?”
   拉迪斯先生吓了一跳,有点儿慌慌张张的,但是,他什么也没说。
   兰开斯特太太的眼睛尖利地盯着他。过了几分钟,她又说道:
   “当然,那都是些胡说八道,我就不相信鬼神一类的东西,而且,从个人角度来说,那也不会阻碍我买下这栋房子。但是很不幸,仆人们,他们非常轻信,并且很容易就被这些吓倒,你最好就告诉我真正的原因——是什么使得这个地方被荒置的。”
   “我——呃——我真的不知道。”房屋代理人结结巴巴地说道。
   “我敢肯定你知道,”这位夫人平静地说道,“如果,你不告诉我真正的原因,我就不买下这栋房子。是什么?因为出了杀人犯?”
   “噢!不是的,”拉迪斯先生叫道,被这种与广场的尊严非常不符的想法吓了一跳。“这只是——这只是因为一个孩子。”
   “一个孩子?”
   “是的。”
   “我不知道这个故事的确切情况,”他不情愿地继续说道,“当然,它有各种各样的版本,但是,我相信,大约在三十年前,有一个叫作威廉的人买下了19号房子。关于他,人们一无所知。他没有仆人,也没有朋友,白天他很少出去,他有一个孩子,一个小男孩。搬到那里大约两个月以后,他就到伦敦去了,以后,他很少出现在这个教区里,直到他被人认了出来,他牵扯到一些案件中,是一个被‘追捕’的逃犯——确切怎样,我也不知道,但是,肯定很严重,因为,与被捕入狱相比,他选择了自杀。而那个孩子还住在那里,一个人孤零零地住在那所房子里。他有点粮食,还可以支撑一段时间,他天天等待着他爸爸的归来。非常不幸,他时刻都紧紧记住父亲吩咐他的话,他绝对不离开那所房子,也不对别人诉说。他是一个虚弱、多病的小家伙,而且,从来不会反抗命令。到了晚上,邻居们,还不知道他爸爸已经离开了,他们经常听到他一个人在空寂可怕的房间里哭泣。”
   拉迪斯先生停了一会儿。
   “而且——呃——最后,这个孩子饿死了。”他用那种宣告天就要下雨的口吻把故事结束了。
   “那么,在这间房子里出没的就是这个孩子的鬼魂了?”兰开斯特太太问道。
   “说真的,那一点儿也不重要,”拉迪斯先生赶紧向她保证道,“什么也没有看到过,没有谁看到过,只是有人这么说而已。当然,这很荒谬,但是,他们说他们真的听到了——那个孩子——在哭泣,你知道的。”
   兰开斯特太太朝着前面走去。
   “我非常喜欢这栋房子,”她说道,“价钱这么好,我几乎不需要花费什么。我考虑一下,然后再给你答复。”
   “它看起来真的非常亮堂,不是吗,爸爸?”
   兰开斯特太太用赞许的眼光视察着她的新领地。华丽的地毯,打磨得崭新发亮的家具,还有各种各样装饰用的小玩意儿,把19号房子的阴暗一扫而光。
   她正朝着一个瘦弱的老人说话。老人的腰有点儿弯,双肩略微倾斜,长着一张高雅而神秘的脸。温伯恩先生不像他的女儿。事实上,再也没有比女儿卓越实干而父亲富于幻想之间的反差更大了。
   “是的,”他微笑着回答道,“没有人会想象得出,这房子是一栋鬼屋。”
   “爸爸,不要胡说!而且,这是我们搬进来的第一天。”
   温伯恩先生笑了。
   “那好,我亲爱的,我们同意没有什么鬼神之类的东西。”
   “而且请你,”兰开斯特太太继续说道,“不要在杰弗里前面说这些,因为他是那么地喜欢幻想。”
   杰弗里是兰开斯特太太的小男孩。这个家庭由温伯恩先生、他的寡妇女儿和杰弗里组成。
   天开始下雨了,雨点敲打在窗户上——噼啪,噼啪。
   “听,”温伯恩先生说道,“那像不像轻轻的脚步声?”
   “那更像是雨声。”兰开斯特太太说道,并微笑着。
   “但是,那,那真是脚步声。”她的父亲叫道,并弯下腰去听。
   兰开斯特太太爽朗地笑起来。
   温伯恩先生只好也笑了。他们在客厅里喝着茶,他背对楼梯坐着,现在,他把椅子转过来,朝楼梯望去。
   小杰弗里正走下来,走得非常缓慢而且安静,带着孩子特有的那种对陌生环境的惶恐。橡木做的楼梯刚漆过,还没铺上地毯。他走了过来,站在母亲的旁边。温伯恩先生微微吃了一惊,当孩子走过地板的时候,他清楚地听到了楼梯上有另一串脚步声,似乎有人跟着杰弗里。那是一种拖拖拉拉的、非常轻微的脚步声。但是,他怀疑地耸了耸肩。“雨声,毫无疑问。”他想到。
   “我在看海绵蛋糕呢。”杰弗里说道,他的样子就像是指出一个有趣的事实那样美妙而超然。
   他的母亲赶紧把话题接了过来。
   “嗯,乖孩子,你怎样看待你的新房子?”她问道。
   “很多,”杰弗里叽哩呜噜地回答道,嘴巴塞得满满的,“磅饼磅饼磅饼。”最后一句话明显地表达了他深深的满足,之后,他陷入了安静中,好像是尽可能看它最后一眼的人那样,只关心海绵蛋糕是不是被移走了。
   吞下最后满满的一口后,他突然开始大说起来。
   “噢!妈妈,这里还有阁楼呢,简说的。我可以马上去那里探险吗?那里肯定有一个密室,简说那里没有,但是,我想那里肯定有,而且,不管怎样,我知道,那里肯定会有管子,水管(满脸失神入迷的表情),而且,我可以玩玩它们,而且,噢!我可以去看看锅——锅炉吗?”
   他把最后一个字拉得长长的,满脸都是显而易见的狂喜,以致于他祖父都对他这种幼年期的无比开心感到了羞耻,在他脑海里浮现出这样的一幅图画,画里面,热水不热了,还有一大叠沉甸甸的要付给管道工的账单。
   “我们明天再看阁楼吧,亲爱的,”兰开斯特太太说道,“想象一下,你用你的砖头建造了一栋非常漂亮的建筑物,或者一个发动机。”
   “我不要造‘盘子’。”
   “是房子。”
   “房子,我也不要造‘挖动机’。”
   “那么,就造一个锅炉吧。”他的祖父建议道。
   杰弗里很高兴。
   “用管子来造吗?”
   “是的,用一大堆管子。”
   杰弗里开心地跑出去搬他的砖头。
   雨还继续下着,温伯恩先生在听。是的,他听到的肯定是雨点声,但是,那真像是脚步声。
   那天晚上,他作了一个奇怪的梦。
   他梦到自己走过一个教区,在他看来,那个教区似乎是一个很大的城市,但是,那是一个孩子们的城市,那里没有成年人,除了孩子,什么也没有,只有孩子,一群又一群的孩子。在梦里,那些孩子冲到这个陌生人跟前,叫道:“你把他带来了吗?”看来,他似乎明白他们要的是什么,他悲伤地摇摇头,看到这时,孩子们转身跑开了,他们开始哭泣,非常悲苦地抽泣着。
   城市和孩子们渐渐模糊了,他醒了过来,发现自己正躺在床上,但是,哭泣声仍然在他耳边回荡,尽管他已经完全清醒了,他仍然能够清清楚楚地听到那些哭声。他记得杰弗里是睡在下面的那层楼里,但是,那些孩子的哭声却是从上面传下来的。他坐了起来,划了一根火柴,哭泣声马上停止了。
   温伯恩先生并没有把他的梦境以及它的结局告诉他女儿。那不是他的幻想在开玩笑,他坚信,事实上,在那以后不久,他又在白天听到了那种哭声,好像是风刮进了烟囱,但是,这不是风声——而是清清楚楚的哭声,不会听错的;是那种令人同情并且心碎的哭泣声。
   同时他还发现,他不是唯一听到这种哭声的人。他无意中听到了女仆对客厅仆人说,她觉得那些保姆对小主人肯定不好,那天早上,她听到了他在小声哭泣。但是,杰弗里走下来吃早饭和午饭时,神情里充满了健康和开心。温伯恩先生知道,那不是杰弗里在哭泣,那些哭泣声,是那个不止一次用拖拖拉拉的脚步声使他吃惊的孩子发出的。
   只有兰开斯特太太一个人,什么也没有听到,她的耳朵或许不适合于接收另一个世界的声音。
   但是,有一天她也被吓了一跳。
   “妈妈,”杰弗里悲哀地说道,“我希望,你同意我和那个小男孩一起玩。”
   兰开斯特太太从写字台上抬起头来,微笑地看着他。
   “亲爱的,什么小男孩?”
   “我不知道他的名字,他住在阁楼里,坐在地板上哭泣,但是,他看到我的时候,他就跑开了,我想他很害羞(带着一点自豪和满足),他不像是一个强壮的孩子。然后,当我在婴儿房里做着我的建筑时,我看见,他站在门口盯着我玩,他看起来是那么的寂寞,似乎,他很希望和我一起玩。我说:‘来,我们一起建造一个“挖动机”吧。’但是,他什么也不说,只是看着,那神情就像是——就像是盯着一大堆爸爸不许他碰的巧克力一样。”
   杰弗里叹了口气,显然,他已经开始对那个小男孩满怀了人性的悲悯。
   “但是,当我问简那个小男孩是谁,并且告诉她我希望和他一起玩时,她说这间房子里没有别的小男孩,她要我别再讲那些淘气的话了,我一点也不喜欢简。”
   兰开斯特太太站了起来。
   “简说得对,这里没有别的小男孩。”
   “但是,我看见他了。噢!妈妈,让我和他一起玩吧,他看起来真的非常寂寞,非常不开心,我真的希望可以做什么,可以‘使他开心点儿’。”
   兰开斯特太太正准备说话,但是,她的父亲摇头制止了她。
   “杰弗里,”他非常温柔地说道,“那个可怜的小男孩很寂寞,或许,你可以做些什么来安慰一下他;但是怎样做,你必须自己想方法——就像是猜一个谜——你明白吗?”
   “那是因为我强壮吗?我只能自己一个人做吗?”
   “是的,因为你强壮。”
   当孩子离开房间之后,兰开斯特太太忍无可忍地转向她父亲。
   “爸爸,这真荒谬,你鼓励一个孩子去相信那些仆人的闲言碎语!”
   “仆人们什么也没对孩子说过。”老人温和地说道。“他已经看到了——但是,我听到了,如果我是他那样的年龄,我也会听到看到的。”
   “但,这都是胡说八道!为什么我就看不见听不到?”
   温伯恩先生笑了,笑得奇怪而且疲倦,但是,他没有回答女儿的问题。
   “为什么?”他的女儿继续问道,“而且,为什么你告诉他,他可以帮助这个——这个——小东西。这——这根本就不可能。”
   老人用沉思的眼光看着她。
   “为什么不可能呢?”他说道,“你还记得那些的歌词吗
   ?在黑暗中,是什么样的灯具被赋予了天命,去引导那些蹒跚摸索的孩子们,‘瞎子的天赋。’上帝回答道。”
   “杰弗里就具有这种——瞎子的天赋。所有孩子都具有这种天赋,只有当我们长大以后,我们才丧失了它,我们才把它从身上扫除出去。有的时候,当我们很老了,一些微弱的光亮也会重新点燃我们,但是,这盏灯在孩提时代燃烧得最亮。这就是为什么我想,杰弗里可能会对它有所帮助。”
   “我不理解。”兰开斯特太太无力地喃喃道。
   “我也不理解。那个——那个孩子遇到了麻烦,他希望——希望得到解脱。但是,怎样才可以得到解脱?我也不知道,但是——想起来真可怕——它把心都哭出来了——这个孩子。”
   这次谈话后的一个月,杰弗里患上了一场非常严重的病。那时东风刮得非常猛烈,而且,他也不是一个很强壮的孩子。医生摇着头说孩子的病已经非常严重了,而对温伯恩先生,他更为坦白,他明白地承认已经没什么希望了。“这个孩子活不大了,不管如何努力。”他又补充道:“很长时间以来,他一直患有严重的肺病。”
   在看护杰弗里的时候,兰开斯特太太开始慢慢地感觉到那个——别的孩子的存在了。刚开始的时候,那些哭泣声和风声还不大能分得清楚,但是,渐渐地,它们越来越清晰,越来越无庸置疑。最后,兰开斯特太太在死一般的寂静中也听到了:那是一个孩子的哭泣声——阴暗,无望,令人心碎。
   杰弗里的状况越来越坏了,在昏迷的时候,他不停地。一次又一次地对那个孩子说话:“我真的希望可以帮助你离开,我真的希望!”他叫道。
   昏迷过后,杰弗里就陷入了沉睡之中,他非常平静地躺着,呼吸沉重,似乎已经毫无知觉了。除了耐心等待和密切注视之外,再也不能做什么了。接着是一个平静的夜晚,空气清新且宁静,没有一丝风。
   突然,孩子惊醒了,他睁开了眼睛,绕过他的母亲朝门口望去。他试图说些什么,母亲弯下腰听他喃喃低语:“好的,我就来。”他小声说道,接着,又昏睡了过去。
   母亲突然感到无比的恐惧,她穿过房间跑到她父亲那里。在他们身旁的某个地方,有个孩子在大声笑着,笑得非常开心,而且满足,银铃般的得意洋洋的笑声在房间里回荡。
   “我很害怕,我很害怕。”她着。
   他用手围住她、保护她。突然猛地刮来一阵狂风,使得他们两个都吃了一惊,但是,狂风过后,留下的,又是刚才那种死一般的宁静。
   笑声停止了,一阵微弱的声音慢慢地向他们爬过来,非常微弱,几乎都听不到了,但是,它越来越响亮,直到他们可以清楚地分辨出来,那是脚步声——轻微的、慢慢离开的脚步声。
   噼啪,噼啪,它们走了——那些熟悉的、拖拖拉拉的、细细的脚步声。然而——肯定没错——突然,又有另一个脚步声加了进来,它走得又迅速又轻快。
   接着,它们用一致的步伐,一起朝着门口走去。
   往下,往下,往下,经过门口,关上门,噼啪,噼啪,看不见的孩子的脚步一起往前走着。
   兰开斯特太太疯狂而绝望地听着。
   “它们是两个——是两个!”
   她的脸色由于恐惧变灰了,她朝着角落里的婴儿床扑去,但是,她父亲温柔地阻止了她,并指着远处。
   “在那里。”他简单地说道。
   噼啪,噼啪——声音越来越微弱、模糊。
   最后,是——无边的寂静。


  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.

    梁源 编译



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