# ■ 7 The fisherman

Ⅰsat on a hill－top and thought about my next move. I wasn't very happy，because although I had escaped，I was feeling very ill. The smoke had been very unpleasant， and the day on the roof had made things worse. I had a terrible headache，and my arm hurt so badly that I could not move it.

I decided to go back to Mr Turnbull's house and find my clothes and Scudder's notebook. Then I would take a train to the south. The sooner I met Sir Harry's friend in the government， Sir Walter Bullivant，the better. I hoped he would believe my story， but，even if he did not， I would be safer with him，or even the British police，than with those men at the farmhouse.

It was a clear，starry night and easy to find my way across the hills. I thought I was probably about thirty kilometres from Mr Turnbull's house， so I could not get there in one night. I would have to hide somewhere for the day. When it started to get light，I stopped to wash in a river and then knocked on the door of a small house. I told the woman who lived there that I had had a bad fall， and she could see that I was not well. She gave me some milk and whisky. She also gave me an old coat and hat of her husband's. I now looked like every other Scotsman， and felt safer.

It started to rain，and I spent the afternoon under a rock. That night was the most miserable of all. There were no stars，and I got lost a least twice. I had about fifteen kilometres more to go，but I think I walked thirty. In the end， in the very early morning，in a thick fog，I knocked on Mr Turnbull's door.

Mr Turnbull opened the door wearing an old black suit and a tie. At first he did not recognize me.

What are you doing here at this time on a Sunday morning？'

My head was so bad that I could not answer for a moment，but then he recognized me，and saw that I was ill.

Have you got my glasses？'he asked.

I took them out of my pocket and gave them to him.

You want your clothes，'he said. 'Come in. You're not looking well at all. Come and sit down. '

I realized that my malaria had come back. I had had malaria in Africa，and it returned sometimes，The smoke，my arm，the wet and the cold had probably not helped. Soon， Mr Turnbull was helping me into a bed.

He was a good friend，that roadman. He took care of me for ten days，until my fever had gone and my arm was much bet-ter. He went out to work every day，locking the door，and in the evening he sat by the fire. He asked no questions，but on some days he brought me a newspaper， and I saw that the ex-citement over the Langham Place murder was over.

One day he gave me my money back. 'There's a lot of mon－ey there. You'd better count it and see if it's all there. '

I wanted to move as soon as possible， but it was not until the 12th of June that I felt well enough to go. I made Turnbull accept some money for my food， but it was difficult.

I walked the twenty kilometres to the station in a day. The train to London did not leave until night，so I rested in the heather until it arrived. I was very happy to be in the train，and on the way south.

* * *

I slept on the train until early morning. Then I changed trains two or three times. At about eight o'clock in the evening I arrived at the small station at Artinswell，to the west of London. The road led through a wood into a green valley. Soon I came to a bridge and looked down into the river，whistling the song'Annie Laurie'.

A fisherman walked up from the river，and as he got near to me，he started to whistle the same song. He was a big man in old clothes and a wide hat. He smiled at me， and I looked at his kind，intelligent face.

The water's clear，isn't it？'he said. 'Look at that big fish lying on the bottom. I've been trying to catch him all evening. '

I can't see him，'I said.

Look，over there，near those plants. '

Oh yes，I can see him now. He looks like a black stone. '

He whistled again，then paused. 'Your name's Twisdon，isn't it？'

No，'I said. 'I mean yes. 'I had forgotten the name I had given Sir Harry.

It's a good idea to know your own name，'he said，smiling.

I looked at him again and began to think that this kind，in－telligent man would be a real ally at last.

Then he pointed to a house by the river and said quietly，'Wait five minutes， then come to the back door. 'He walked

I did as he asked，and found the back door open and a ser－vant waiting.

Come this way，sir，'he said， and took me to a bedroom. There were clothes waiting for me，and shaving things. 'There's a bathroom next door. Dinner is in half an hour. '

The servant left，and I sat down. I was very surprised，but also delighted，Sir Walter clearly believed that I was not a murderer，although when I looked at myself in the mirror，I thought I looked very much like one.

I had a bath and shaved and put on the clothes. When I had finished，I looked in the mirror again. This time I saw a com－pletely different young man.

Sir Walter was waiting for me in the dining room. I decided I must tell him the truth about myself immediately.

I must thank you very much，but I must make something clear，'I said. 'I'm not a murderer， but the police want me. If you'd like me to leave， I'll leave now. '

He smiled. 'That's all right. We won't let it stop us eating. Let's talk after dinner. '

The food and wine were excellent. After dinner we went to the sitting－room for coffee and he looked at me.

I've done what Harry asked me to do，'he said. ' He told me you'd tell me a story to wake me up it I did. So what is your story，Mr Hannay？'

I notoced that he was using my real name.

I told him the whole story， from the night I came home and found Scudder at my door. I told him what Scudder had told me about Karolides，and saw him smile once or twice. Then I told him about the murder，and the milkman，and Scotland，and Scudder's notebook.

You've got it here？'he asked，and looked pleased when I took it from my pocket.

I said nothing about what I had read in Scudder's notes. Then I told him about my meeting with Sir Harry，and he laughed. My day as a roadman interested him. He made me describe the two men in the car，and seemed to be thinking hard. Then he laughed again at my adventure with Mar－maduke Jopley. When I described the old man in the farm－house，he stopped smiling.

Old，bald，and hoods his eyes like a hawk. I don't like the sound of him. And you blew up his house. You're a brave man.

I reached the end of my story. He stood up，by the fire，and looked down at me.

You don't need to worry about the police，'he said. 'They don't want you any more. '

Have they arrested the murderer？'

No. But they know it's not you. '

How？'

Because I heard from Scudder. I knew him a bit. He was astrange man，but he was honest. I had a letter from him on the 31st of May. '

But he'd been dead for a week by then. '

The letter was written and posted on the 23rd. His letters usually went to Spaim and then Newcastle，so they took a week to arrive. '

What did he say？'

That he was in danger. He said he was living in Langham Place， and that he was with a good friend. I think he wanted to help you in case he was murdered. When I got the letter，I went to Scotland Yard and talked to the police. '

You can imagine that I felt ten times better. I was a free man， and my only enemies were my country's enemies.

Now， let's see this notebook，'said Sir Walter.

It took us an hour to work through it. I explained the code and he understood very quickly. When we had finished，he sat silent for a while.

I don't understand all of this，'he said at last. 'He's right about one thing，and that is the meeting on the 15th. How can anyone have discovered about that？ But all this about war and the Black Stone-it's very strange. Scudder did like to make things seem important and exciting. '

The Black Stone，'he repeated. 'It's like a cheap detective story. And all this about Karolides can't be true. Karolides will be alive when we're both dead. No，Scudder's wrong there. There are some unpleasant things going on. Scudder found something out and got killed for it. But all this about stealing the Navy's war plans…I can't really believe it. '

Just then，the servant came into the room.

There's a telephone call from London for you， sir. '

Sir Walter went out. He came back five minutes later with a white face. 'I apologize to Scudder，'he whispered，and then looked at me. 'Karolides was shot dead at seven o'clock this evening. '

■ 7 漁夫

我坐在山頂上，考慮下一步怎麼辦。我不太開心，因為雖然我逃出來，可是感覺很難受。火藥的煙味很難聞，而且在塔頂上藏了一整天更讓人受不了。我頭疼欲裂，胳膊傷得動也動不了。

我決定還回特恩布爾先生的家，找回我的衣服和斯卡德爾的筆記本。然後乘火車向南走。我越早見到哈里爵士在政府的朋友，瓦爾特·布利萬特爵士就越好。希望他能相信我的話，即使不相信，和他呆在一起，或者和英國警察呆在一起也比和這間農舍的傢伙在一起要安全。

夜色晴朗，繁星滿天，翻山尋路並不困難。我思忖距特恩布爾先生的家大概有三十公里左右，看來一夜到不了。白天我得藏在什麼地方。天一放亮，我停腳在河裡洗了把臉，然後去敲一所小屋的門。我對小屋的女主人說我摔得很厲害。她可以看出我情形不好。她給了我點牛奶和威士忌，還把她丈夫的舊外套和帽子送給我。現在我看上去和別的蘇格蘭人沒什麼兩樣，因此感到安全多了。

天開始下起雨來，我在岩石下面躲了一下午。那是最為狼狽的一晚。天上一顆星也沒有，至少有兩次我迷了路。大約還要走十五公里，而我覺得已經走了三十公里。最後，在大清早，在濃霧瀰漫之中，我敲響了特恩布爾先生家的門。

特恩布爾先生開了門，身穿一套黑色的舊衣服，打著領帶。頭一眼他沒有認出我來。

“大禮拜天這個時候您在這兒幹嗎？”

我頭疼得太厲害，一下回答不出，而他認出了我，看出我生病了。

“您帶著我的眼鏡了嗎？”他問道。

我從口袋裡掏出眼鏡，還給他。

“您要您的衣服，”他說。“請進。您看來不太舒眼。請進來坐下吧。”

我覺得我的瘧疾又發作了。在非洲我得過瘧疾，後來時而發作。煙燻、胳膊傷、受潮、著涼大概沒起好作用。特恩布爾先生很快扶我上床。

這個修路人真夠朋友。他服侍了我十天，直到我高燒退去，胳膊也大見好轉為止。他每天鎖上門出去上班，晚上回來坐在火爐旁。他什麼也不問，有時給我帶來張報紙，我得以知道關於蘭厄姆謀殺案的轟動已經過去了。

一天，他把錢還給我。“這麼多錢。最好數一數看是不是都在。”

我想盡快動身，但是直到六月十二日我才感到恢復得足以走路。我設法叫特恩布爾收下點飯錢，但真是難上加難。

我朝車站走，一天走了二十公里。去倫敦的火車要到晚上才開車，因此我躲在石楠叢裡，休息到火車進站。跳上火車，奔南而去，我心裡喜氣洋洋。

我在火車上一覺睡到大天亮。後來我倒了三四次車。大約晚上八點鐘，我趕到阿廷斯維爾的一個小站，這個地方位於倫敦的西邊。沿路而行穿過一片樹林，就到了一個綠油油的峽谷。我很快走上一座橋，一邊用口哨吹著那首叫“安妮·勞裡”的歌，邊低頭望著河水。

一個漁夫從河那邊走來，走到我身邊時，口哨吹起同一首歌。他身材魁梧，穿一身舊衣服，戴一頂寬邊帽。他對著我微笑，而我則看著他那張慈祥睿智的臉。

“水很清，是不是？”他說。“看水底那條魚多大。我折騰了一個晚上一直想把它抓住。”

“看到了，”我說。

“看，就在那兒，在水草旁邊。”

“啊，是，我看到了。看起來像塊黑石。”

他又吹起口哨，然後停下來。“您叫特維斯頓，是嗎？”

“不，”我說。“我想說的是對。”我把自己告訴哈里爵士的那個名字忘記了。

“很想知道您的真名，”他說著笑了。

我看了他一眼，心裡開始想著這位和藹機敏的人大概最終是我真正的戰友。

他指著河邊的一座房子平靜地說：“請等五分鐘，然後到後門去。”說完就離開了。

我照辦了，發現後門開著，有個僕人等在那裡。

“先生，請這邊走，”他說著，把我領到一間臥室。臥室裡為我準備好了衣服和刮臉用具。“旁邊的門是浴室。半個小時後開飯。”

僕人走後我坐了下來。我感到驚喜交加。瓦爾特爵士顯然不相信我是殺人犯，雖然照著鏡子我覺得自己很像。

我洗了個澡，颳了刮臉，然後換上給我準備的衣服。完事後又重新照了一番鏡子，這回我看到是一個截然不同的年輕人。

瓦爾特爵士正在餐廳裡等我。我決定立刻把我的全部真實情況告訴他。

“非常感謝您，有些事我得給您講清楚，”我說。“我不是殺人犯，可是警察在追捕我。如果您要我離開，我便馬上走。”

他笑了。“好了。不要讓這個打攪我們吃飯。吃過再談吧。”

好酒好飯真是美餐一頓。飯後到客廳喝咖啡，他看著我。

“我遵哈里爵士之矚把您請到這兒來，”他說。“他說您會告訴我一件事，如果我以前矇在鼓裡這件事會使我翻然醒悟。那麼到底是什麼事呢，哈內先生。”

我發覺他在使用我的真名字。

我從那天晚上回到家，在門口遇到斯卡德爾先生開始，把一切都告訴了他。我告訴了他斯卡德爾給我講的有關卡羅裡德斯的事，在這過程中我看到他笑了一兩次。我又對他說起那次謀殺、那個送奶員、蘇格蘭流亡以及斯卡德爾的筆記本。

“您拿來了？”他問道。我從口袋裡掏出筆記本，他面露喜色。

至於我在斯卡德爾的筆記本上看到了什麼，我只字未提。接著我講到如何見到哈里爵士，他聽著笑了。他對我裝修路人的那天很感興趣。他讓我詳細描述一下車上的那兩個人，看來他在認真思考著。接著我談到與馬默杜克的奇遇，他又笑起來。當我說到農舍裡的那個老頭，他的笑容收斂了。

“上了年紀、禿頭而且像貓頭鷹那樣眯著眼睛。聽起來這個人不討人喜歡。您把他的房子給炸了。您真有膽量。”

我講完了。他從火爐旁站起來，低頭看著我。

“您不用擔心警察，”他說。“他們不再追捕您了。”

“他們抓到凶手了嗎？”

“沒有。但他們知道不是您。”

“他們怎麼知道的？”

“因為我收到了斯卡德爾的信。我對他略有所知。他很古怪，但很誠實。五月三十一日我收到他一封信。”

“可是那時他已經死了一週了。”

“那封信是二十三日寫好寄出的。他的信一般走西班牙，然後轉紐卡速爾，所以要一週才能收到。”

“他說什麼了？”

“他說他處境危險。他住在蘭厄姆，和一個好朋友住在一起。我想他是為了在萬一被害後仍能幫您一把。接到信我就去蘇格蘭場告訴了警察。”

可以想像我的無限欣悅之情。我是個自由人了，而且我的唯一敵人也是我的國家的敵人。

“咱們瞧瞧這個筆記本，”瓦爾特爵士說。

我們花了一個小時看了一遍。我解釋著暗語，他很快就明白了。完事之後，好半天他坐著一聲不吭。

“我不全懂，”他最後說。“有一件事他說對了，就是十五號的會議。但別人怎麼可能知道呢？而關於戰爭、黑石這一切——聽起來非常離奇。斯卡德爾確實喜歡把事情搞得看起來不同一般而又撩撥人心。”

“黑石，”他重複說。“似乎像粗製濫造的偵探小說。而關於卡羅裡德斯，這一切都不可能是真的。即使我們都死了，卡羅裡德斯還會活著。不對。這點斯卡德爾搞錯了。近來讓人討厭的事連續不斷。斯卡德爾發現了某件事。他因此被殺。但是關於盜竊海軍作戰計劃等等這一切……我簡直不能相信。”

恰好僕人進來了。

“先生，倫敦給您來的電話。”

瓦爾特爵士出去了。五分鐘後回屋來，臉色煞白。“我得向斯卡德爾道歉，”他低聲說，然後看著我。“卡羅裡德斯今天晚上七點鐘被槍殺了。”