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But Smiley, on this morning after, stopped short of the dip. Instead, by placing his sodden shoes as best he could upon each spot exactly, he set about trying to imitate the movements the old man might have made. And since Smiley did all this in slow motion, and with every appearance of concentration, under the eye of two trousered ladies walking their Alsatians, he was taken for an adherent of the new fad in Chinese martial exercises, and accounted mad accordingly.
但是,斯迈利在这个早晨没有走到坡底。相反,他把浸湿的鞋子尽量准确地踩在每个点,然后开始模仿老人可能做出的动作。他一步一步都是慢动作,看上去神情专注。两位穿着长裤、遛着阿尔萨斯犬的女士一直注视着他,以为他是中国武术某种新潮流的拥泵,觉得他脑子有问题。
First he put his feet side by side and pointed them down the hill. Then he put his left foot forward, and moved his right foot round until the toe pointed directly towards a spinney of young saplings. As he did so, his right shoulder followed naturally, and his instinct told him that this would be the likely moment for Vladimir to transfer the stick to his left hand. But why? As the Superintendent had also asked, why transfer the stick at all? Why, in this most extreme moment of his life, why solemnly move a walking-stick from the right hand to the left? Certainly not to defend himself—since, as Smiley remembered, he was right-handed. To defend himself, he would only have seized the stick more firmly. Or clasped it with both his hands, like a club.
首先,他双脚并拢,指向坡下。然后,他把左脚向前迈出,右脚转了一圈,直到脚尖直接指向一个长满小树苗的矮树丛。他这样做的时候,右肩自然而然地跟了上去,直觉告诉他,这时候弗拉基米尔很可能会把手杖转到左手上。但为什么呢?警司也问过同样的问题,为什么要把手杖转到左手呢?为什么在他生死攸关的时刻,要郑重其事地把手杖从右手移到左手?当然不是为了自卫——因为斯迈利记得,他惯使右手。如果是为了自卫,他只会更用力地抓住手杖。或者用双手握住它,就像握住一根棍子。
Was it in order to leave his right hand free? But free for what?
Aware this time of being observed, Smiley peered sharply behind him and saw two small boys in blazers who had paused to watch this round little man in spectacles performing strange antics with his feet. He glowered at them in his most school-masterly manner, and they moved hastily on.
To leave his right hand free for what? Smiley repeated to himself. And why start running again a moment later?
。
是为了腾出右手吗?但空出来做什么呢?
这一次,斯迈利意识到有人在看他。他猛地转身看身后,只见两个穿着颜色鲜艳的上装的小男孩停住了脚步,看着这个戴眼镜的胖乎乎的小个子用脚表演奇怪的滑稽动作。他装出学校校长的样子瞪了他们一眼,他们便匆匆走开了。
让右手腾出来做什么?斯迈利反复问自己。为什么不一会儿又开始跑了?
Vladimir turned to the right, thought Smiley, once again matching his action to the thought. Vladimir turned to the right. He faced the spinney, he put his stick in his left hand. For a moment, according to the Superintendent, he stood still. Then he ran on.
Moscow Rules, Smiley thought, staring at his own right hand. Slowly he lowered it into his raincoat pocket. Which was empty, as Vladimir’s right-hand coat pocket was also empty.
Had he meant to write a message perhaps? Smiley was teasing himself with the theory he was determined to hold at bay. To write a message with the chalk, for instance? Had he recognised his pursuer, and wished to chalk a name somewhere, or a sign? But what on? Not on these wet tree trunks for sure. Not on the clay, the dead leaves, the gravel! Looking round him, Smiley became aware of a peculiar feature of his location. Here, almost between two trees, at the very edge of the avenue, at the point where the fog was approaching its thickest, he was as good as out of sight. The avenue descended, yes, and lifted ahead of him. But it also curved, and from where he stood the upward line of sight in both directions was masked by tree trunks and a dense thicket of saplings. Along the whole path of Vladimir’s last frantic journey—a path he knew well, remember, had used for similar meetings—this was the one point, Smiley realised with increasing satisfaction, where the fleeing man was out of sight from both ahead of him and behind him.
And had stopped.
Had freed his right hand.
Had put it—let us say—in his pocket.
弗拉基米尔向右转,斯迈利边想边做向右转的动作。弗拉基米尔向右转。他面对着树枝,左手拿着手杖。根据警司的说法,他停了一会儿。然后他继续向前跑。
莫斯科规则,斯迈利盯着自己的右手想。他慢慢地把右手放进雨衣口袋里。口袋里是空的,弗拉基米尔大衣右边的口袋也是空的。
也许他是想写封信?尽管斯迈利下决心要压制这个想法,他还是不断用这个猜想来折腾他的大脑。比如说,用粉笔写信息?难道他认出了追他的人,想在某个地方用粉笔写下一个名字或一个标志?但写在什么地方呢?写在这些湿树干上肯定不行。粘土上、枯叶上、碎石上都不行!环顾四周,斯迈利发现了他所处位置的一个特别之处。这个地方几乎是在两棵树之间,在林荫道的最边缘,在雾气最浓的地方,几乎没人能看见他。是的,林荫道正是下坡路,在他前方又是上坡路。而且路也是弯曲的,这样从他所站的位置向上看,两个方向的视线都被树干和茂密的树丛遮挡住了。这条路是弗拉基米尔最后一次疯狂的行程,他很熟悉这条路,记得他曾在类似的会面中走过。斯迈利逐渐意识到,整条路上,就是在这个地方,不管从这个逃跑的人的前面和后面都看不到他。他对这个想法感到很满意。
停了下来。
腾出了右手。
把手——假设是这样——放进了口袋里。
For his heart tablets? No. Like the yellow chalk and the matches, they were in his left pocket, not his right.
For something—let us say—that was no longer in the pocket when he was found dead.
For what then?
Tell him I have two proofs and can bring them with me. . . . Then perhaps he will see me. . . . This is Gregory asking for Max. I have something for him, please. . . .
Proofs. Proofs too precious to post. He was bringing something. Two somethings. Not just in his head—in his pocket. And was playing Moscow Rules. Rules that had been drummed into the General from the very day of his recruitment as a defector in place. By Smiley himself, no less, as well as his case officer on the spot. Rules that had been invented for his survival; and the survival of his network. Smiley felt the excitement seize his stomach like a nausea. Moscow Rules decree that if you physically carry a message, you must also carry the means to discard it! That, however it is disguised or concealed—microdot, secret writing, undeveloped film, any one of the hundred risky, finicky ways—still as an object it must be the first and lightest thing that comes to hand, the least conspicuous when jettisoned!
Such as a medicine bottle full of tablets, he thought, calming a little. Such as a box of matches.
掏心脏药片?不,和黄色粉笔与火柴一样,它们在他的左边口袋里,而不是右边口袋里。
掏某种东西——假设是这样——这东西在他的尸体被发现时已经不在口袋里了。
那么是掏什么?
告诉他我有两份证据,可以带来......那样他就说不定会见我......格里高利找马克斯。我有东西要给他......
是证据。证据太珍贵了,不能邮寄。他带来了一些东西。是两样东西。不只是在他的脑袋里,也在他的口袋里。他在执行莫斯科规则。从将军被策反的那一天起,斯迈利和他的主管人员都在现场给他灌输了这些规则。斯迈利所起的作用,重要性并不亚于主管人员。这些规则是为了他和他的间谍网的生存而发明的。斯迈利激动得胃里翻江倒海。莫斯科规则规定,如果你携带了信息,那么你也必须携带丢弃信息的方法!不管如何伪装或隐藏——缩微颗粒,密写的文字,未冲洗的胶卷,任何一种冒险而又棘手的方法——这个物品必须是手能拿到的第一样东西,也是最轻便的东西,在丢弃时最不显眼的东西!
比如一个装满药片的药瓶,他想了想,稍稍平静下来。比如一盒火柴。
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