《每天讀點好英文·驚悚故事:指向死亡的微燈》內容簡介：“每天讀點好英文”系列升級版是專為有提高英文水平需要和興趣的年輕朋友們量身打造的一套“超級學習版”雙語讀物，此套圖書在選取優美文章的同事，附有較強的學習功能。“美文欣賞”、“辭彙筆記”、“小試身手”“短語家族”將是閱讀《每天讀點好英文·驚悚故事:指向死亡的微燈》的提升重點，這就真正形成了一個初學者的學習體系——記憶單詞、學習語法、運用詞組、實踐運用，不愁英語功底學習得不紮實。 作為雙語讀物，《每天讀點好英文·驚悚故事:指向死亡的微燈》讓英語學習變得輕鬆有趣，在閱讀中潛移默化地學習。突顯學習功能，補充句型詳解，提升語法實力。文後附閱讀測驗，提升文章理解力。
基本介紹
- 中文名：每天讀點好英文•驚悚故事:指向死亡的微燈
- 作者：常青藤語言教學中心
- 出版日期：2013年2月28日
- 語種：簡體中文, 英語
- ISBN：9787533673147
- 外文名：Dim Light of Death
- 出版社：安徽教育出版社
- 頁數：320頁
- 開本：16
- 定價：24.80
基本介紹,內容簡介,作者簡介,圖書目錄,文摘,
基本介紹
內容簡介
《每天讀點好英文·驚悚故事:指向死亡的微燈》編輯推薦：學英語不再枯燥無味：內文篇目均取自國外最經典、最權威、最流行、最動人的篇章，中英雙語，適於誦讀，提升閱讀能力；學英語不再沉悶辛苦：優美的語言、深厚的情感、地道的英文，讓我們在閱讀這些動人的絕美篇章時，不僅能夠提升生活質量，豐富人生內涵，更能夠輕鬆提升英文領悟能力，體味英文之美，輕鬆提高學習興趣；學英語不再學了就忘：每篇文章的旁邊列有辭彙，均是生活和學習中的常見辭彙，讀者可重點記憶。文章後附有填空、句型、短語等語法練習，用最短的時間、最有趣的方式就能完成複習與鞏固，提升語法能力；學英語不再亂無章法：書中內容遵循語言學習的自然規律，在不斷的朗讀、學習、欣賞中學習地道的英文，使英語能力在潛移默化中得到提升！
作者簡介
常青藤語言教學中心，長期致力於雙語讀物的編撰工作，在編選與翻譯方面兼具專業性與權威性。
圖書目錄
恐怖谷
The Valley of Fear
2·孿生兄弟 安布羅斯·比爾斯
One of Twins Ambrose Bierce
18·掘墓盜屍人 羅伯特·路易斯·史蒂文森
The Body-snatcher Robert Louis Stevenson
62·姨媽歷險記 華盛頓·歐文
The Adventure of My Aunt Washington Irving
74·帶家具出租的房間 歐·亨利
The Furnished Room O.Henry
神秘屋
The House of Mystery
94·羊腿與謀殺 羅爾德·達爾
Lamb to the Slaughter Roald Dahl
120·敞開的窗戶 薩基
The Open Window Saki
130·波思克姆比溪谷秘案 亞瑟·柯南·道爾
The Boscombe Valley Mystery Arthur Conan Doyle
191·藍寶石十字架 G. K.切斯特頓
The Blue Cross G.K.Chesterton
大冒險
The Death of Adventure
244·鷹溪橋上 安布羅斯·比爾斯
An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge Ambrose Bierce
268·老虎！老虎！ 約瑟夫·魯德亞德·吉卜 林
Tiger！Tiger！ Joseph Rudyard Kipling
The Valley of Fear
2·孿生兄弟 安布羅斯·比爾斯
One of Twins Ambrose Bierce
18·掘墓盜屍人 羅伯特·路易斯·史蒂文森
The Body-snatcher Robert Louis Stevenson
62·姨媽歷險記 華盛頓·歐文
The Adventure of My Aunt Washington Irving
74·帶家具出租的房間 歐·亨利
The Furnished Room O.Henry
神秘屋
The House of Mystery
94·羊腿與謀殺 羅爾德·達爾
Lamb to the Slaughter Roald Dahl
120·敞開的窗戶 薩基
The Open Window Saki
130·波思克姆比溪谷秘案 亞瑟·柯南·道爾
The Boscombe Valley Mystery Arthur Conan Doyle
191·藍寶石十字架 G. K.切斯特頓
The Blue Cross G.K.Chesterton
大冒險
The Death of Adventure
244·鷹溪橋上 安布羅斯·比爾斯
An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge Ambrose Bierce
268·老虎！老虎！ 約瑟夫·魯德亞德·吉卜 林
Tiger！Tiger！ Joseph Rudyard Kipling
文摘
孿生兄弟
One of Twins
安布羅斯·比爾斯 / Ambrose Bierce
安布羅斯·比爾斯(Ambrose Bierce，1842～1914)，美國恐怖、靈異小說家，出生在美國俄亥俄州梅格斯縣一個貧苦的農民家庭。他參加了美國南北戰爭，這段不平凡的經歷為他以後的文學創作打下了堅實的基礎。戰爭結束後，他開始了一個編輯兼作家的忙碌生涯。他早期的作品主要是隨筆和諷刺短詩，也包括一些小說。他比較悲觀，被人們稱為“辛辣比爾斯”。主要的代表作品有《魔鬼辭典》《士兵和百姓的故事》等。
You ask me if in my experience as one of a pair of twins I ever observed anything unaccountable by the natural laws with which we have acquaintance. As to that you shall judge; perhaps we have not all acquaintance with the same natural laws. You may know some that I do not, and what is to me unaccountable may be very clear to you.
You knew my brother John — that is, you knew him when you knew that I was not present; but neither you nor, I believe, any human being could distinguish between him and me if we chose to seem alike. Our parents could not; ours is the only instance of which I have any knowledge of so close resemblance as that. I speak of my brother John, but I am not at all sure that his name was not Henry and mine John. We were regularly christened, but afterward, in the very act of tattooing us with small distinguishing marks, the operator lost his reckoning; and although I bear upon my forearm a small ‘H' and he bore a ‘J', it is by no means certain that the letters ought not to have been transposed. During our boyhood our parents tried to distinguish us more obviously by our clothing and other simple devices, but we would so frequently exchange suits and otherwise circumvent the enemy that they abandoned all such ineffectual attempts, and during all the years that we lived together at home everybody recognized the difficulty of the situation and made the best of it by calling us both “Jehnry.” I have often wondered at my father's forbearance in not branding us conspicuously upon our unworthy brows, but as we were tolerably good boys and used our power of embarrassment and annoyance with commendable moderation, we escaped the iron. My father was, in fact, a singularly good-natured man, and I think quietly enjoyed Nature's practical joke.
Soon after we had come to California, and settled at San Jose (where the only good fortune that awaited us was our meeting with so kind a friend as you), the family, as you know, was broken up by the death of both my parents in the same week. My father died insolvent, and the homestead was sacrificed to pay his debts. My sisters returned to relatives in the East, but owing to your kindness John and I, then twenty-two years of age, obtained employment in San Francisco, in different quarters of the town. Circumstances did not permit us to live together, and we saw each other infrequently, sometimes not oftener than once a week. As we had few acquaintances in common, the fact of our extraordinary likeness was little known. I come now to the matter of your inquiry.
One day soon after we had come to this city I was walking down Market Street late in the afternoon, when I was accosted by a welldressed man of middle age, who after greeting me cordially said: “Stevens, I know, of course, that you do not go out much, but I have told my wife about you, and she would be glad to see you at the house. I have a notion, too, that my girls are worth knowing. Suppose you come out to morrow at six and dine with us, en famille; and then if the ladies can't amuse you afterward I'll stand in with a few games of billiards.”
This was said with so bright a smile and so engaging a manner that I had not the heart to refuse, and although I had never seen the man in my life I promptly replied: “You are very good, sir, and it will give me great pleasure to accept the invitation. Please present my compliments to Mrs. Margovan and ask her to expect me.”
With a shake of the hand and a pleasant parting word the man passed on. That he had mistaken me for my brother was plain enough. That was an error to which I was accustomed and which it was not my habit to rectify unless the matter seemed important. But how had I known that this man's name was Margovan? It certainly is not a name that one would apply to a man at random, with a probability that it would be right. In point of fact, the name was as strange to me as the man.
The next morning I hastened to where my brother was employed and met him coming out of the office with a number of bills that he was to collect. I told him how I had “committed” him and added that if he didn't care to keep the engagement I should be delighted to continue the impersonation.
“That's queer,” he said thoughtfully. “Margovan is the only man in the office here whom I know well and like. When he came in this morning and we had passed the usual greetings some singular impulse prompted me to say: ‘Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Margovan, but I neglected to ask your address.' I got the address, but what under the sun I was to do with it, I did not know until now. It's good of you to offer to take the consequence of your impudence, but I'll eat that dinner myself, if you please.”
He ate a number of dinners at the same place—more than were good for him, I may add without disparaging their quality; for he fell in love with Miss Margovan, proposed marriage to her and was heartlessly accepted.
Several weeks after I had been informed of the engagement, but before it had been convenient for me to make the acquaintance of the young woman and her family, I met one day on Kearney Street a handsome but somewhat dissipated-looking man whom something prompted me to follow and watch, which I did without any scruple whatever. He turned up Geary Street and followed it until he came to Union Square. There he looked at his watch, then entered the square. He loitered about the paths for some time, evidently waiting for some one. Presently he was joined by a fashionably dressed and beautiful young woman and the two walked away up Stockton Street, I following. I now felt the necessity of extreme caution, for although the girl was a stranger it seemed to me that she would recognize me at a glance. They made several turns from one street to another and finally, after both had taken a hasty look all about—which I narrowly evaded by stepping into a doorway—they entered a house of which I do not care to state the location. Its location was better than its character.
I protest that my action in playing the spy upon these two strangers was without assignable motive. It was one of which I might or might not be ashamed, according to my estimate of the character of the person finding it out. As an essential part of a narrative educed by your question it is related here without hesitancy or shame.
A week later John took me to the house of his prospective father-in-law, and in Miss Margovan, as you have already surmised, but to my profound astonishment, I recognized the heroine of that discreditable adventure. A gloriously beautiful heroine of a discreditable adventure I must in justice admit that she was; but that fact has only this importance: her beauty was such a surprise to me that it cast a doubt upon her identity with the young woman I had seen before; how could the marvellous fascination of her face have failed to strike me at that time? But no—there was no possibility of error; the difference was due to costume, light and general surroundings.
John and I passed the evening at the house, enduring, with the fortitude of long experience, such delicate enough banter as our likeness naturally suggested. When the young lady and I were left alone for a few minutes I looked her squarely in the face and said with sudden gravity: “You, too, Miss Margovan, have a double: I saw her last Tuesday afternoon in Union Square.”
She trained her great grey eyes upon me for a moment, but her glance was a trifle less steady than my own and she withdrew it, fixing it on the tip of her shoe.
“Was she very like me?” she asked, with an indifference which I thought a little overdone.
“So like,” said I, “that I greatly admired her, and being unwilling to lose sight of her I confess that I followed her until—Miss Margovan, are you sure that you understand?”
She was now pale, but entirely calm. She again raised her eyes to mine, with a look that did not falter.
“What do you wish me to do?” she asked. “You need not fear to name your terms. I accept them.”
It was plain, even in the brief time given me for reflection, that in dealing with this girl ordinary methods would not do, and ordinary exactions were needless.
“Miss Margovan,” I said, doubtless with something of the compassion in my voice that I had in my heart, “it is impossible not to think you the victim of some horrible compulsion. Rather than impose new embarrassments upon you I would prefer to aid you to regain your freedom.”
She shook her head, sadly and hopelessly, and I continued, with agitation:
“Your beauty unnerves me. I am disarmed by your frankness and your distress. If you are free to act upon conscience you will, I believe, do what you conceive to be best; if you are not—well, Heaven help us all! You have nothing to fear from me but such opposition to this marriage as I can try to justify on—on other grounds.”
These were not my exact words, but that was the sense of them, as nearly as my sudden and conflicting emotions permitted me to express it. I rose and left her without another look at her, met the others as they re-entered the room and said, as calmly as I could: “I have been bidding Miss Margovan good evening; it is later than I thought.”
John decided to go with me. In the street he asked if I had observed anything singular in Julia's manner.
“I thought her ill,” I replied; “that is why I left.” Nothing more was said.
The next evening I came late to my lodgings. The events of the previous evening had made me nervous and ill; I had tried to cure myself and attain to clear thinking by walking in the open air, but I was oppressed with a horrible presentiment of evil—a presentiment which I could not formulate. It was a chill, foggy night; my clothing and hair were damp and I shook with cold. In my dressing-gown and slippers before a blazing grate of coals I was even more uncomfortable. I no longer shivered but shuddered—there is a difference. The dread of some impending calamity was so strong and dispiriting that I tried to drive it away by inviting a real sorrow—tried to dispel the conception of a terrible future by substituting the memory of a painful past. I recalled the death of my parents and endeavoured to fix my mind upon the last sad scenes at their bedsides and their graves. It all seemed vague and unreal, as having occurred ages ago and to another person. Suddenly, striking through my thought and parting it as a tense cord is parted by the stroke of steel—I can think of no other comparison—I heard a sharp cry as of one in mortal agony!
The voice was that of my brother and seemed to come from the street outside my window. I sprang to the window and threw it open. A street lamp directly opposite threw a wan and ghastly light upon the wet pavement and the fronts of the houses. A single policeman, with upturned collar, was leaning against a gatepost, quietly smoking a cigar. No one else was in sight. I closed the window and pulled down the shade, seated myself before the fire and tried to fix my mind upon my surroundings. By way of assisting, by performance of some familiar act, I looked at my watch; it marked half-past eleven. Again I heard that awful cry! It seemed in the room—at my side. I was frightened and for some moments had not the power to move. A few minutes later—I have no recollection of the intermediate time—I found myself hurrying along an unfamiliar street as fast as I could walk. I did not know where I was, nor whither I was going, but presently sprang up the steps of a house before which were two or three carriages and in which were moving lights and a subdued confusion of voices. It was the house of Mr. Margovan.
You know, good friend, what had occurred there. In one chamber lay Julia Margovan, hours dead by poison; in another John Stevens, bleeding from a pistol wound in the chest, inflicted by his own hand. As I burst into the room; pushed aside the physicians and laid my hand upon his forehead he unclosed his eyes, stared blankly, closed them slowly and died without a sign.
I knew no more until six weeks afterwards, when I had been nursed back to life by your own saintly wife in your own beautiful home. All of that you know, but what you do not know is this—which, however, has no bearing upon the subject of your psychological researches—at least not upon that branch of them in which, with a delicacy and consideration all your own, you have asked for less assistance than I think I have given you:
One moonlight night several years afterward I was passing through Union Square. The hour was late and the square deserted. Certain memories of the past naturally came into my mind as I came to the spot where I had once witnessed that fateful assignation, and with that unaccountable perversity which prompts us to dwell upon thoughts of the most painful character I seated myself upon one of the benches to indulge them. A man entered the square and came along the walk toward me. His hands were clasped behind him, his head was bowed; he seemed to observe nothing. As he approached the shadow in which I sat I recognized him as the man whom I had seen meet Julia Margovan years before at that spot. But he was terribly altered — grey, worn and haggard. Dissipation and vice were in evidence in every look; illness was no less apparent. His clothing was in disorder, his hair fell across his forehead in a derangement which was at once uncanny, and picturesque. He looked fitter for restraint than liberty — the restraint of a hospital.
With no defined purpose I rose and confronted him. He raised his head and looked me full in the face. I have no words to describe the ghastly change that came over his own; it was a look of unspeakable terror — he thought himself eye to eye with a ghost. But he was a courageous man.“Damn you, John Stevens!” he cried, and lifting his trembling arm he dashed his fist feebly at my face and fell headlong upon the gravel as I walked away.
Somebody found him there, stone-dead. Nothing more is known of him, not even his name. To know of a man that he is dead should be enough.
您曾經問過我，身為孿生兄弟之一，是不是感覺有些事情難以用人們所熟知的自然法則來解釋。我是這樣說的：或許我們之間所熟知的自然法則並不相同。一些法則為你所熟知，而我並不知曉；而你無法理解的道理，我則相當熟悉。
在我沒有現身時，你一定可以認出我的兄弟——約翰。然而，我確信，不管你還是其他人，當我們身著相同的服裝出現時，誰都無法分清哪個是我，哪個是約翰。即便是我們的父母，也分不清楚。因此我說，或許世上再也沒有和我們這樣相像的孿生兄弟了！提起約翰這個名字，我也不確定到底屬於誰。和其他人一樣，我們出生後也接受了洗禮。然而，就在那個人給我們印上記號的時候，他也弄不清了。儘管我的前臂上印著一個小小的“H”，意思是Henry（亨利），他的前臂上印著“J”，代表John（約翰），然而現在再也不能證實記號是否弄錯了。童年時，父母打算給我們穿上不同的衣服來區分我們，我們卻常常故意交換，這樣一來，他們又無所適從。後來，大家乾脆放棄了對我們的區分。只要我們同時出現，大家就暈頭轉向，索性叫我們“約翰亨利”。我時常想，父親怎么不直接將記號烙在我們的眉毛上呢。但是，我們兩個還是比較乖，儘管有時候會淘氣、惹人煩，但終究沒做什麼過分的事情。事實上，父親是一個性格溫順的人，沒準還把我們視為上天對他的恩賜呢！
之後，我們來到了加利福尼亞，並在聖·約瑟安了家。值得慶幸的是，我們在這裡和您這樣的好人成了朋友。您知道，後來父母在一周之內先後去世，我們這個家就支離破碎了。父親去世時已經破產，為了償還債務，一家人只好將宅地低價抵押。姐妹們都去投靠東部的親戚，因為得到您的幫助，22歲的我和約翰得以在舊金山謀職。由於公司在不同城市，我們兩人只好各自居住，一周也難得相聚一次。這樣一來，我們擁有了自己的朋友，朋友中無人知曉我們彼此有一個頗為相像的兄弟。有關您的疑問，請聽我娓娓道來。
就在剛到舊金山不久的一天下午，我在市場大街上散步。突然，一位穿著考究的中年男子走上前，跟我熱情地打招呼：“史蒂夫，我知道你一般不愛出門，但當我跟我的太太說起你時，她非常希望你能到家裡做客。另外，你可以認識一下我的女兒們。明天晚上6點，你是否能到我的家裡吃頓便飯。如果我的女兒們和你沒有共同語言，我們也可以打檯球。”
那箇中年男子談笑風生，興致勃勃，我都不忍心拒絕，於是我爽快地答應了這個從未謀面的男人：“您真是太客氣了，很榮幸能得到您的邀請，請代我向馬戈溫夫人致以謝意，明晚我一定準時到。”
一陣寒暄之後，我們愉快地道別。和這位先生一樣，經常會有人將我錯認為我的哥哥，不過我早習慣了。除非事關重大，否則我不會急於糾正。可是我怎么知道這個人姓馬戈溫呢？這並非一個普通的姓氏。可能我真的叫對了。實際上，我對這個姓氏和這個人同樣陌生，
第二天早上，我急匆匆地趕到約翰所在的公司，正好看到他抱著一大摞賬單從辦公室走出來。我對他講述了如何以他的身份作出承諾，還說假如他不願意赴約，我可以接著裝扮下去。
約翰思考了一下說道：“真奇怪，在辦公室里，我唯一熟悉並談得來的人就是馬戈溫先生。今天早上他進來時，我們還互道了早安，我莫名其妙地問了一句：‘噢，馬戈溫先生，我把您家的地址給忘記了。'他告訴了我，當時我也不知道我要這個地址有什麼用，現在知道了。看來你硬著頭皮答應他的邀請是正確的，我會親自赴宴的。”
自此以後，約翰就經常到馬戈溫先生家“赴宴”。我不是貶低他們家的廚藝他家飯菜的味道的確不怎么樣。時間長了，約翰對馬戈溫的一個女兒心生愛意，向她求婚。那位小姐冷淡而禮貌地接受了他的求婚。
幾個星期之後，約翰告訴我，他已經和那位小姐訂婚了。在我與那位年輕小姐和她的家人沒有見面前，發生了這樣一件事。那天，我在卡尼大街碰到一個相貌英俊、外表有些放蕩不羈的小伙子。他的模樣促使我不由自主地想監視他的一舉一動。我無所顧忌地跟在他後面，到了吉爾利大街，並一直跟到聯合廣場。他看了看手錶，然後走進廣場，徘徊了很長時間。顯然他在等人。正在這時，一位穿著時尚、模樣俊俏的年輕小姐走了過去。緊接著，他們一起離開廣場，我一直尾隨他們走到斯托克頓大街。那時我十分謹慎，怕被他們覺察出來，總感覺那個陌生的女孩能一眼就把我認出來。他們七拐八繞地走了好幾條街，最後在一所房子前停了下來。兩人不約而同地朝四周看了看，一起走進了屋子。雖然我躲在暗處，但也差點被他們發現。至於那幢房子的具體地址，這裡不再做詳細說明。總之，它看起來非常普通，毫無特色。
需要說明的是，我跟蹤這對陌生男女沒有一點惡意。依我看，無論是否有礙道德，大部分人在類似情況下都會有同樣的反應。下面這個故事就是您要我回憶的重要環節。講述時，我心裡坦坦蕩蕩，無所顧忌。
一周以後，約翰帶我去拜望他未來的岳父。我想您一定已經想到了，我見到了馬戈溫小姐。令我驚訝的是，她竟然就是我那天跟蹤的女孩。說實話，馬戈溫小姐有傾國傾城的美貌，然而，這副嬌艷的面孔在她和那位青年在一起時卻沒有打動我。這使我懷疑自己是不是看錯了人，但仔細想想又覺得不可能。或許是因為得體的服飾和輕鬆的氣氛所致吧!
那晚，我和約翰坐立不安，那時的尷尬一點也不比我們被認錯時的狼狽差。當我終於有機會和馬戈溫小姐單獨相處時，便鄭重地問她：“馬戈溫小姐，您也有個孿生姐妹吧。上個星期二下午，我在聯合廣場看到過她。”
一聽這話，她睜大眼睛看著我，馬上就把視線移開了，然後一直盯著自己的鞋尖出神。和我的目光比起來，她似乎沒有那么從容與鎮靜。
“她長得和我一模一樣嗎？”她故意裝出一副不在意的樣子。
“非常像，我簡直被她迷住了，唯恐以後再也見不到她，所以就一直在她的後面跟著……馬戈溫小姐，您能明白我在說什麼嗎？”
聽到我的提問，她的臉“唰”地一下變得蒼白。但她抬起頭，用眼神告訴我她沒有被我的話嚇垮。
“你想怎樣辦？”她問，“把你想要的條件說出來吧，我全都接受。”
很顯然，這個姑娘是個厲害角色，慣常的勒索方法對她是不起作用的。
“馬戈溫小姐，”我的話語流露出由衷的憐憫之情，“我想您一定是迫於奈才服從什麼人的管束。我只是想幫你重獲自由，決不會損害你的名譽。”
她傷心而絕望地搖了搖頭。我繼續鼓動她：
“您的美貌讓我震驚，而您的坦率和不幸則消除了我對您的懷疑。如果您問心無愧，我相信您一定能找到最恰當的脫身方法。假如您是迫不不得已，那么上天自有安排。您無須擔心我會泄秘。假如您不滿意這樁婚姻，我會找出其他理由。”
當時的原話可能不是這樣的，不過就是這個意思。當時我心緒煩亂，情急之下脫口而出。我沒有再看她，站起身準備離開時，其他人都走了進來，我盡力保持鎮靜。“我剛向馬戈溫小姐道了晚安。也許待得太久了。”
約翰也要和我一起走。途中他問我有沒有覺得茱莉葉小姐的神色有些怪異。
我搪塞說：“也許是身體不舒服，所以我才要告辭。”至於方才談話的內容，我沒有告訴他。
第二天我回到臥室時，已經很晚了。前天晚上的事讓我惴惴不安。我走了出來，希望外面的空氣能讓我的頭腦清醒一下。然而不知什麼原因，我的心裡有一種不祥的預感，讓我很長時間不能釋懷。深夜的寒氣逼人，薄霧打濕了我的頭髮和衣服。我冷得發抖，又回到臥室，穿上睡衣和拖鞋坐在熊熊的爐火旁。我越想越害怕，身子也不停地發抖。此時的顫抖不是因為天氣寒冷，而是因為內心恐懼，也許這就是所謂的“膽戰心驚”吧。我有一種強烈的預感，某種不幸的事情就要發生了。這種預感讓我備受折磨，我寧願回想已經成為事實的往日的傷心之事，也不願承受這種不知道結果的猜測性的困擾。於是，我回憶起已逝的父母，追憶著在他們床前的最後訣別以及在墓前的沉痛悼念。這些情景仿佛光影般看不真切，就像發生在遙遠的過去，發生在某個和我不相干的人身上。突然，我被一個極度驚恐的尖叫聲驚醒，就好像是鋼刀斬斷了繃緊的繩索。
那是約翰的聲音，聽起來好像是從窗外的街道上傳來的。我一躍而起，打開窗戶向四外查看。街燈昏暗，人行道濕氣繚繞，臨街的住房隱隱約約，看不清楚，有些陰森恐怖。一個豎著衣領的警察，背靠在門柱上，悠閒地點著一根香菸。我關上窗戶，放下帘子，回到爐火旁，一邊做些習慣性的動作，極力不去想剛才那個可怕的叫聲，一邊焦慮地看著手錶。11點半的時候，我又聽到那個讓我毛骨悚然的叫聲。那聲音仿佛就在我的身邊，觸手可及。我害怕極了，待在那裡一動都不動。過了很長時間，我跑出屋子，不由自主地朝一條陌生的街道飛奔。那個時候，我既不知道自己身在何處，也不知要去往何處。最後，我停在一戶人家的前面。門外停著兩三輛馬車，屋內燈光晃動，人聲鼎沸。這就是馬戈溫先生的家。
朋友，至於屋裡到底發生了什麼事，相信你已經猜想到了。我破門而入，首先看到茱莉葉·馬戈溫小姐躺在屋子裡。因為中毒，她在幾個小時之前就離開了人世。約翰·史蒂夫躺在另一個房間裡，他的胸部中了一槍，還冒著血，他的手裡握著一把槍。我衝進房間，把醫生推開，蹲下身來撫摸著他的額頭。約翰目光茫然地睜著眼睛，然後慢慢地閉上，悄無聲息地死了。
之後的6個星期，我一直處於昏迷狀態。幸運的是，我住到了您舒適的家中，在您妻子的精心照料下，我的身體很快恢復了。想必您對這段時間發生的事都非常清楚，但有一點恐怕您還不知道，這跟您的心理研究無關，至少與您曾經問我的問題沒有一點聯繫。我知道您當時是顧及到我的身體情況才沒有追根問底，不過我還能為您提供更多的情況。
幾年後的一個夜晚，月明星稀，我獨自一人在聯合廣場漫步。夜色已深，廣場上空蕩蕩的。當我再次走到曾經目睹那次約會的地方，即預示了那次悲劇要發生的地方時，往事湧上心頭，我不由地回想起那最悽慘的一幕。正當我坐在長椅上胡思亂想的時候，一名男子穿過人行道，走進了廣場，徑直向我走來。只見他低著頭，雙手放在身後，悠閒地走著。當他快走到我的座位時，我一下子認出了他。他不是別人，正是幾年前在這裡茱莉葉·馬戈溫小姐幽會的浪蕩公子。不過，他整個人已經變成了一幅蒼白、疲憊、憔悴的模樣，每一處都顯露出生活放蕩和重病纏身的跡像。他衣衫不整，前額垂著幾綹頭髮，看起來既恐怖又怪異，就像一個剛從醫院跑出來的病人。
我下意識地站到他面前，面對著他，而他也抬起頭，仔細打量我的臉。突然，他呆住了，臉上呈現出難以言狀的恐懼——就像遇到了鬼。但是，他並不示弱。“快滾開，約翰·史蒂夫。”他一面喊，一面舉起顫抖的手臂向我的臉打來。只是那一拳軟弱無力，我向一邊躲開，他就栽倒在地上。
當人們發現他躺在那裡的時候，他的身體已經僵硬。誰也不知道他是誰，甚至連他叫什麼名字都無人知曉。他留在人間的唯一信息就是他已經死了。
辭彙筆記
辭彙筆記
acquaintance [əˈkwentəns] n.相識的人，熟人；相識；對……有了解；知識，心得
The proprietor was his an old acquaintance.
業主是他的一位舊相識。
singularly [ˈsɪŋɡjəlɚlɪ] adv.非常地；格外地；奇怪地；異常地
Where he got that singular notion I just can't think.
我真想不出來他從哪來的那種奇怪念頭。
amuse [əˈmjuz] v.使人發笑；逗樂；使消遣；娛樂
Their antics never fail to amuse.
他們滑稽的舉止總是讓人發笑。
loiter [ˈlɔɪtɚ] v.（在公共場所）走走停停；閒逛；遊蕩；磨蹭
Unemployed young men loiter at the entrance of the factory.
失業的小年輕在工廠門口遊蕩。
就在剛到舊金山不久的一天下午，我在市場大街上散步。
幾個星期之後，約翰告訴我，他已經和那位小姐訂婚了。
當時我心緒煩亂，情急之下脫口而出。
...but owing to your kindness John and I, then twenty-two years of age...
owing to：由於，因為；多虧
In point of fact, the name was as strange to me as theman.
in point of fact：實際上
One of Twins
安布羅斯·比爾斯 / Ambrose Bierce
安布羅斯·比爾斯(Ambrose Bierce，1842～1914)，美國恐怖、靈異小說家，出生在美國俄亥俄州梅格斯縣一個貧苦的農民家庭。他參加了美國南北戰爭，這段不平凡的經歷為他以後的文學創作打下了堅實的基礎。戰爭結束後，他開始了一個編輯兼作家的忙碌生涯。他早期的作品主要是隨筆和諷刺短詩，也包括一些小說。他比較悲觀，被人們稱為“辛辣比爾斯”。主要的代表作品有《魔鬼辭典》《士兵和百姓的故事》等。
You ask me if in my experience as one of a pair of twins I ever observed anything unaccountable by the natural laws with which we have acquaintance. As to that you shall judge; perhaps we have not all acquaintance with the same natural laws. You may know some that I do not, and what is to me unaccountable may be very clear to you.
You knew my brother John — that is, you knew him when you knew that I was not present; but neither you nor, I believe, any human being could distinguish between him and me if we chose to seem alike. Our parents could not; ours is the only instance of which I have any knowledge of so close resemblance as that. I speak of my brother John, but I am not at all sure that his name was not Henry and mine John. We were regularly christened, but afterward, in the very act of tattooing us with small distinguishing marks, the operator lost his reckoning; and although I bear upon my forearm a small ‘H' and he bore a ‘J', it is by no means certain that the letters ought not to have been transposed. During our boyhood our parents tried to distinguish us more obviously by our clothing and other simple devices, but we would so frequently exchange suits and otherwise circumvent the enemy that they abandoned all such ineffectual attempts, and during all the years that we lived together at home everybody recognized the difficulty of the situation and made the best of it by calling us both “Jehnry.” I have often wondered at my father's forbearance in not branding us conspicuously upon our unworthy brows, but as we were tolerably good boys and used our power of embarrassment and annoyance with commendable moderation, we escaped the iron. My father was, in fact, a singularly good-natured man, and I think quietly enjoyed Nature's practical joke.
Soon after we had come to California, and settled at San Jose (where the only good fortune that awaited us was our meeting with so kind a friend as you), the family, as you know, was broken up by the death of both my parents in the same week. My father died insolvent, and the homestead was sacrificed to pay his debts. My sisters returned to relatives in the East, but owing to your kindness John and I, then twenty-two years of age, obtained employment in San Francisco, in different quarters of the town. Circumstances did not permit us to live together, and we saw each other infrequently, sometimes not oftener than once a week. As we had few acquaintances in common, the fact of our extraordinary likeness was little known. I come now to the matter of your inquiry.
One day soon after we had come to this city I was walking down Market Street late in the afternoon, when I was accosted by a welldressed man of middle age, who after greeting me cordially said: “Stevens, I know, of course, that you do not go out much, but I have told my wife about you, and she would be glad to see you at the house. I have a notion, too, that my girls are worth knowing. Suppose you come out to morrow at six and dine with us, en famille; and then if the ladies can't amuse you afterward I'll stand in with a few games of billiards.”
This was said with so bright a smile and so engaging a manner that I had not the heart to refuse, and although I had never seen the man in my life I promptly replied: “You are very good, sir, and it will give me great pleasure to accept the invitation. Please present my compliments to Mrs. Margovan and ask her to expect me.”
With a shake of the hand and a pleasant parting word the man passed on. That he had mistaken me for my brother was plain enough. That was an error to which I was accustomed and which it was not my habit to rectify unless the matter seemed important. But how had I known that this man's name was Margovan? It certainly is not a name that one would apply to a man at random, with a probability that it would be right. In point of fact, the name was as strange to me as the man.
The next morning I hastened to where my brother was employed and met him coming out of the office with a number of bills that he was to collect. I told him how I had “committed” him and added that if he didn't care to keep the engagement I should be delighted to continue the impersonation.
“That's queer,” he said thoughtfully. “Margovan is the only man in the office here whom I know well and like. When he came in this morning and we had passed the usual greetings some singular impulse prompted me to say: ‘Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Margovan, but I neglected to ask your address.' I got the address, but what under the sun I was to do with it, I did not know until now. It's good of you to offer to take the consequence of your impudence, but I'll eat that dinner myself, if you please.”
He ate a number of dinners at the same place—more than were good for him, I may add without disparaging their quality; for he fell in love with Miss Margovan, proposed marriage to her and was heartlessly accepted.
Several weeks after I had been informed of the engagement, but before it had been convenient for me to make the acquaintance of the young woman and her family, I met one day on Kearney Street a handsome but somewhat dissipated-looking man whom something prompted me to follow and watch, which I did without any scruple whatever. He turned up Geary Street and followed it until he came to Union Square. There he looked at his watch, then entered the square. He loitered about the paths for some time, evidently waiting for some one. Presently he was joined by a fashionably dressed and beautiful young woman and the two walked away up Stockton Street, I following. I now felt the necessity of extreme caution, for although the girl was a stranger it seemed to me that she would recognize me at a glance. They made several turns from one street to another and finally, after both had taken a hasty look all about—which I narrowly evaded by stepping into a doorway—they entered a house of which I do not care to state the location. Its location was better than its character.
I protest that my action in playing the spy upon these two strangers was without assignable motive. It was one of which I might or might not be ashamed, according to my estimate of the character of the person finding it out. As an essential part of a narrative educed by your question it is related here without hesitancy or shame.
A week later John took me to the house of his prospective father-in-law, and in Miss Margovan, as you have already surmised, but to my profound astonishment, I recognized the heroine of that discreditable adventure. A gloriously beautiful heroine of a discreditable adventure I must in justice admit that she was; but that fact has only this importance: her beauty was such a surprise to me that it cast a doubt upon her identity with the young woman I had seen before; how could the marvellous fascination of her face have failed to strike me at that time? But no—there was no possibility of error; the difference was due to costume, light and general surroundings.
John and I passed the evening at the house, enduring, with the fortitude of long experience, such delicate enough banter as our likeness naturally suggested. When the young lady and I were left alone for a few minutes I looked her squarely in the face and said with sudden gravity: “You, too, Miss Margovan, have a double: I saw her last Tuesday afternoon in Union Square.”
She trained her great grey eyes upon me for a moment, but her glance was a trifle less steady than my own and she withdrew it, fixing it on the tip of her shoe.
“Was she very like me?” she asked, with an indifference which I thought a little overdone.
“So like,” said I, “that I greatly admired her, and being unwilling to lose sight of her I confess that I followed her until—Miss Margovan, are you sure that you understand?”
She was now pale, but entirely calm. She again raised her eyes to mine, with a look that did not falter.
“What do you wish me to do?” she asked. “You need not fear to name your terms. I accept them.”
It was plain, even in the brief time given me for reflection, that in dealing with this girl ordinary methods would not do, and ordinary exactions were needless.
“Miss Margovan,” I said, doubtless with something of the compassion in my voice that I had in my heart, “it is impossible not to think you the victim of some horrible compulsion. Rather than impose new embarrassments upon you I would prefer to aid you to regain your freedom.”
She shook her head, sadly and hopelessly, and I continued, with agitation:
“Your beauty unnerves me. I am disarmed by your frankness and your distress. If you are free to act upon conscience you will, I believe, do what you conceive to be best; if you are not—well, Heaven help us all! You have nothing to fear from me but such opposition to this marriage as I can try to justify on—on other grounds.”
These were not my exact words, but that was the sense of them, as nearly as my sudden and conflicting emotions permitted me to express it. I rose and left her without another look at her, met the others as they re-entered the room and said, as calmly as I could: “I have been bidding Miss Margovan good evening; it is later than I thought.”
John decided to go with me. In the street he asked if I had observed anything singular in Julia's manner.
“I thought her ill,” I replied; “that is why I left.” Nothing more was said.
The next evening I came late to my lodgings. The events of the previous evening had made me nervous and ill; I had tried to cure myself and attain to clear thinking by walking in the open air, but I was oppressed with a horrible presentiment of evil—a presentiment which I could not formulate. It was a chill, foggy night; my clothing and hair were damp and I shook with cold. In my dressing-gown and slippers before a blazing grate of coals I was even more uncomfortable. I no longer shivered but shuddered—there is a difference. The dread of some impending calamity was so strong and dispiriting that I tried to drive it away by inviting a real sorrow—tried to dispel the conception of a terrible future by substituting the memory of a painful past. I recalled the death of my parents and endeavoured to fix my mind upon the last sad scenes at their bedsides and their graves. It all seemed vague and unreal, as having occurred ages ago and to another person. Suddenly, striking through my thought and parting it as a tense cord is parted by the stroke of steel—I can think of no other comparison—I heard a sharp cry as of one in mortal agony!
The voice was that of my brother and seemed to come from the street outside my window. I sprang to the window and threw it open. A street lamp directly opposite threw a wan and ghastly light upon the wet pavement and the fronts of the houses. A single policeman, with upturned collar, was leaning against a gatepost, quietly smoking a cigar. No one else was in sight. I closed the window and pulled down the shade, seated myself before the fire and tried to fix my mind upon my surroundings. By way of assisting, by performance of some familiar act, I looked at my watch; it marked half-past eleven. Again I heard that awful cry! It seemed in the room—at my side. I was frightened and for some moments had not the power to move. A few minutes later—I have no recollection of the intermediate time—I found myself hurrying along an unfamiliar street as fast as I could walk. I did not know where I was, nor whither I was going, but presently sprang up the steps of a house before which were two or three carriages and in which were moving lights and a subdued confusion of voices. It was the house of Mr. Margovan.
You know, good friend, what had occurred there. In one chamber lay Julia Margovan, hours dead by poison; in another John Stevens, bleeding from a pistol wound in the chest, inflicted by his own hand. As I burst into the room; pushed aside the physicians and laid my hand upon his forehead he unclosed his eyes, stared blankly, closed them slowly and died without a sign.
I knew no more until six weeks afterwards, when I had been nursed back to life by your own saintly wife in your own beautiful home. All of that you know, but what you do not know is this—which, however, has no bearing upon the subject of your psychological researches—at least not upon that branch of them in which, with a delicacy and consideration all your own, you have asked for less assistance than I think I have given you:
One moonlight night several years afterward I was passing through Union Square. The hour was late and the square deserted. Certain memories of the past naturally came into my mind as I came to the spot where I had once witnessed that fateful assignation, and with that unaccountable perversity which prompts us to dwell upon thoughts of the most painful character I seated myself upon one of the benches to indulge them. A man entered the square and came along the walk toward me. His hands were clasped behind him, his head was bowed; he seemed to observe nothing. As he approached the shadow in which I sat I recognized him as the man whom I had seen meet Julia Margovan years before at that spot. But he was terribly altered — grey, worn and haggard. Dissipation and vice were in evidence in every look; illness was no less apparent. His clothing was in disorder, his hair fell across his forehead in a derangement which was at once uncanny, and picturesque. He looked fitter for restraint than liberty — the restraint of a hospital.
With no defined purpose I rose and confronted him. He raised his head and looked me full in the face. I have no words to describe the ghastly change that came over his own; it was a look of unspeakable terror — he thought himself eye to eye with a ghost. But he was a courageous man.“Damn you, John Stevens!” he cried, and lifting his trembling arm he dashed his fist feebly at my face and fell headlong upon the gravel as I walked away.
Somebody found him there, stone-dead. Nothing more is known of him, not even his name. To know of a man that he is dead should be enough.
您曾經問過我，身為孿生兄弟之一，是不是感覺有些事情難以用人們所熟知的自然法則來解釋。我是這樣說的：或許我們之間所熟知的自然法則並不相同。一些法則為你所熟知，而我並不知曉；而你無法理解的道理，我則相當熟悉。
在我沒有現身時，你一定可以認出我的兄弟——約翰。然而，我確信，不管你還是其他人，當我們身著相同的服裝出現時，誰都無法分清哪個是我，哪個是約翰。即便是我們的父母，也分不清楚。因此我說，或許世上再也沒有和我們這樣相像的孿生兄弟了！提起約翰這個名字，我也不確定到底屬於誰。和其他人一樣，我們出生後也接受了洗禮。然而，就在那個人給我們印上記號的時候，他也弄不清了。儘管我的前臂上印著一個小小的“H”，意思是Henry（亨利），他的前臂上印著“J”，代表John（約翰），然而現在再也不能證實記號是否弄錯了。童年時，父母打算給我們穿上不同的衣服來區分我們，我們卻常常故意交換，這樣一來，他們又無所適從。後來，大家乾脆放棄了對我們的區分。只要我們同時出現，大家就暈頭轉向，索性叫我們“約翰亨利”。我時常想，父親怎么不直接將記號烙在我們的眉毛上呢。但是，我們兩個還是比較乖，儘管有時候會淘氣、惹人煩，但終究沒做什麼過分的事情。事實上，父親是一個性格溫順的人，沒準還把我們視為上天對他的恩賜呢！
之後，我們來到了加利福尼亞，並在聖·約瑟安了家。值得慶幸的是，我們在這裡和您這樣的好人成了朋友。您知道，後來父母在一周之內先後去世，我們這個家就支離破碎了。父親去世時已經破產，為了償還債務，一家人只好將宅地低價抵押。姐妹們都去投靠東部的親戚，因為得到您的幫助，22歲的我和約翰得以在舊金山謀職。由於公司在不同城市，我們兩人只好各自居住，一周也難得相聚一次。這樣一來，我們擁有了自己的朋友，朋友中無人知曉我們彼此有一個頗為相像的兄弟。有關您的疑問，請聽我娓娓道來。
就在剛到舊金山不久的一天下午，我在市場大街上散步。突然，一位穿著考究的中年男子走上前，跟我熱情地打招呼：“史蒂夫，我知道你一般不愛出門，但當我跟我的太太說起你時，她非常希望你能到家裡做客。另外，你可以認識一下我的女兒們。明天晚上6點，你是否能到我的家裡吃頓便飯。如果我的女兒們和你沒有共同語言，我們也可以打檯球。”
那箇中年男子談笑風生，興致勃勃，我都不忍心拒絕，於是我爽快地答應了這個從未謀面的男人：“您真是太客氣了，很榮幸能得到您的邀請，請代我向馬戈溫夫人致以謝意，明晚我一定準時到。”
一陣寒暄之後，我們愉快地道別。和這位先生一樣，經常會有人將我錯認為我的哥哥，不過我早習慣了。除非事關重大，否則我不會急於糾正。可是我怎么知道這個人姓馬戈溫呢？這並非一個普通的姓氏。可能我真的叫對了。實際上，我對這個姓氏和這個人同樣陌生，
第二天早上，我急匆匆地趕到約翰所在的公司，正好看到他抱著一大摞賬單從辦公室走出來。我對他講述了如何以他的身份作出承諾，還說假如他不願意赴約，我可以接著裝扮下去。
約翰思考了一下說道：“真奇怪，在辦公室里，我唯一熟悉並談得來的人就是馬戈溫先生。今天早上他進來時，我們還互道了早安，我莫名其妙地問了一句：‘噢，馬戈溫先生，我把您家的地址給忘記了。'他告訴了我，當時我也不知道我要這個地址有什麼用，現在知道了。看來你硬著頭皮答應他的邀請是正確的，我會親自赴宴的。”
自此以後，約翰就經常到馬戈溫先生家“赴宴”。我不是貶低他們家的廚藝他家飯菜的味道的確不怎么樣。時間長了，約翰對馬戈溫的一個女兒心生愛意，向她求婚。那位小姐冷淡而禮貌地接受了他的求婚。
幾個星期之後，約翰告訴我，他已經和那位小姐訂婚了。在我與那位年輕小姐和她的家人沒有見面前，發生了這樣一件事。那天，我在卡尼大街碰到一個相貌英俊、外表有些放蕩不羈的小伙子。他的模樣促使我不由自主地想監視他的一舉一動。我無所顧忌地跟在他後面，到了吉爾利大街，並一直跟到聯合廣場。他看了看手錶，然後走進廣場，徘徊了很長時間。顯然他在等人。正在這時，一位穿著時尚、模樣俊俏的年輕小姐走了過去。緊接著，他們一起離開廣場，我一直尾隨他們走到斯托克頓大街。那時我十分謹慎，怕被他們覺察出來，總感覺那個陌生的女孩能一眼就把我認出來。他們七拐八繞地走了好幾條街，最後在一所房子前停了下來。兩人不約而同地朝四周看了看，一起走進了屋子。雖然我躲在暗處，但也差點被他們發現。至於那幢房子的具體地址，這裡不再做詳細說明。總之，它看起來非常普通，毫無特色。
需要說明的是，我跟蹤這對陌生男女沒有一點惡意。依我看，無論是否有礙道德，大部分人在類似情況下都會有同樣的反應。下面這個故事就是您要我回憶的重要環節。講述時，我心裡坦坦蕩蕩，無所顧忌。
一周以後，約翰帶我去拜望他未來的岳父。我想您一定已經想到了，我見到了馬戈溫小姐。令我驚訝的是，她竟然就是我那天跟蹤的女孩。說實話，馬戈溫小姐有傾國傾城的美貌，然而，這副嬌艷的面孔在她和那位青年在一起時卻沒有打動我。這使我懷疑自己是不是看錯了人，但仔細想想又覺得不可能。或許是因為得體的服飾和輕鬆的氣氛所致吧!
那晚，我和約翰坐立不安，那時的尷尬一點也不比我們被認錯時的狼狽差。當我終於有機會和馬戈溫小姐單獨相處時，便鄭重地問她：“馬戈溫小姐，您也有個孿生姐妹吧。上個星期二下午，我在聯合廣場看到過她。”
一聽這話，她睜大眼睛看著我，馬上就把視線移開了，然後一直盯著自己的鞋尖出神。和我的目光比起來，她似乎沒有那么從容與鎮靜。
“她長得和我一模一樣嗎？”她故意裝出一副不在意的樣子。
“非常像，我簡直被她迷住了，唯恐以後再也見不到她，所以就一直在她的後面跟著……馬戈溫小姐，您能明白我在說什麼嗎？”
聽到我的提問，她的臉“唰”地一下變得蒼白。但她抬起頭，用眼神告訴我她沒有被我的話嚇垮。
“你想怎樣辦？”她問，“把你想要的條件說出來吧，我全都接受。”
很顯然，這個姑娘是個厲害角色，慣常的勒索方法對她是不起作用的。
“馬戈溫小姐，”我的話語流露出由衷的憐憫之情，“我想您一定是迫於奈才服從什麼人的管束。我只是想幫你重獲自由，決不會損害你的名譽。”
她傷心而絕望地搖了搖頭。我繼續鼓動她：
“您的美貌讓我震驚，而您的坦率和不幸則消除了我對您的懷疑。如果您問心無愧，我相信您一定能找到最恰當的脫身方法。假如您是迫不不得已，那么上天自有安排。您無須擔心我會泄秘。假如您不滿意這樁婚姻，我會找出其他理由。”
當時的原話可能不是這樣的，不過就是這個意思。當時我心緒煩亂，情急之下脫口而出。我沒有再看她，站起身準備離開時，其他人都走了進來，我盡力保持鎮靜。“我剛向馬戈溫小姐道了晚安。也許待得太久了。”
約翰也要和我一起走。途中他問我有沒有覺得茱莉葉小姐的神色有些怪異。
我搪塞說：“也許是身體不舒服，所以我才要告辭。”至於方才談話的內容，我沒有告訴他。
第二天我回到臥室時，已經很晚了。前天晚上的事讓我惴惴不安。我走了出來，希望外面的空氣能讓我的頭腦清醒一下。然而不知什麼原因，我的心裡有一種不祥的預感，讓我很長時間不能釋懷。深夜的寒氣逼人，薄霧打濕了我的頭髮和衣服。我冷得發抖，又回到臥室，穿上睡衣和拖鞋坐在熊熊的爐火旁。我越想越害怕，身子也不停地發抖。此時的顫抖不是因為天氣寒冷，而是因為內心恐懼，也許這就是所謂的“膽戰心驚”吧。我有一種強烈的預感，某種不幸的事情就要發生了。這種預感讓我備受折磨，我寧願回想已經成為事實的往日的傷心之事，也不願承受這種不知道結果的猜測性的困擾。於是，我回憶起已逝的父母，追憶著在他們床前的最後訣別以及在墓前的沉痛悼念。這些情景仿佛光影般看不真切，就像發生在遙遠的過去，發生在某個和我不相干的人身上。突然，我被一個極度驚恐的尖叫聲驚醒，就好像是鋼刀斬斷了繃緊的繩索。
那是約翰的聲音，聽起來好像是從窗外的街道上傳來的。我一躍而起，打開窗戶向四外查看。街燈昏暗，人行道濕氣繚繞，臨街的住房隱隱約約，看不清楚，有些陰森恐怖。一個豎著衣領的警察，背靠在門柱上，悠閒地點著一根香菸。我關上窗戶，放下帘子，回到爐火旁，一邊做些習慣性的動作，極力不去想剛才那個可怕的叫聲，一邊焦慮地看著手錶。11點半的時候，我又聽到那個讓我毛骨悚然的叫聲。那聲音仿佛就在我的身邊，觸手可及。我害怕極了，待在那裡一動都不動。過了很長時間，我跑出屋子，不由自主地朝一條陌生的街道飛奔。那個時候，我既不知道自己身在何處，也不知要去往何處。最後，我停在一戶人家的前面。門外停著兩三輛馬車，屋內燈光晃動，人聲鼎沸。這就是馬戈溫先生的家。
朋友，至於屋裡到底發生了什麼事，相信你已經猜想到了。我破門而入，首先看到茱莉葉·馬戈溫小姐躺在屋子裡。因為中毒，她在幾個小時之前就離開了人世。約翰·史蒂夫躺在另一個房間裡，他的胸部中了一槍，還冒著血，他的手裡握著一把槍。我衝進房間，把醫生推開，蹲下身來撫摸著他的額頭。約翰目光茫然地睜著眼睛，然後慢慢地閉上，悄無聲息地死了。
之後的6個星期，我一直處於昏迷狀態。幸運的是，我住到了您舒適的家中，在您妻子的精心照料下，我的身體很快恢復了。想必您對這段時間發生的事都非常清楚，但有一點恐怕您還不知道，這跟您的心理研究無關，至少與您曾經問我的問題沒有一點聯繫。我知道您當時是顧及到我的身體情況才沒有追根問底，不過我還能為您提供更多的情況。
幾年後的一個夜晚，月明星稀，我獨自一人在聯合廣場漫步。夜色已深，廣場上空蕩蕩的。當我再次走到曾經目睹那次約會的地方，即預示了那次悲劇要發生的地方時，往事湧上心頭，我不由地回想起那最悽慘的一幕。正當我坐在長椅上胡思亂想的時候，一名男子穿過人行道，走進了廣場，徑直向我走來。只見他低著頭，雙手放在身後，悠閒地走著。當他快走到我的座位時，我一下子認出了他。他不是別人，正是幾年前在這裡茱莉葉·馬戈溫小姐幽會的浪蕩公子。不過，他整個人已經變成了一幅蒼白、疲憊、憔悴的模樣，每一處都顯露出生活放蕩和重病纏身的跡像。他衣衫不整，前額垂著幾綹頭髮，看起來既恐怖又怪異，就像一個剛從醫院跑出來的病人。
我下意識地站到他面前，面對著他，而他也抬起頭，仔細打量我的臉。突然，他呆住了，臉上呈現出難以言狀的恐懼——就像遇到了鬼。但是，他並不示弱。“快滾開，約翰·史蒂夫。”他一面喊，一面舉起顫抖的手臂向我的臉打來。只是那一拳軟弱無力，我向一邊躲開，他就栽倒在地上。
當人們發現他躺在那裡的時候，他的身體已經僵硬。誰也不知道他是誰，甚至連他叫什麼名字都無人知曉。他留在人間的唯一信息就是他已經死了。
辭彙筆記
辭彙筆記
acquaintance [əˈkwentəns] n.相識的人，熟人；相識；對……有了解；知識，心得
The proprietor was his an old acquaintance.
業主是他的一位舊相識。
singularly [ˈsɪŋɡjəlɚlɪ] adv.非常地；格外地；奇怪地；異常地
Where he got that singular notion I just can't think.
我真想不出來他從哪來的那種奇怪念頭。
amuse [əˈmjuz] v.使人發笑；逗樂；使消遣；娛樂
Their antics never fail to amuse.
他們滑稽的舉止總是讓人發笑。
loiter [ˈlɔɪtɚ] v.（在公共場所）走走停停；閒逛；遊蕩；磨蹭
Unemployed young men loiter at the entrance of the factory.
失業的小年輕在工廠門口遊蕩。
就在剛到舊金山不久的一天下午，我在市場大街上散步。
幾個星期之後，約翰告訴我，他已經和那位小姐訂婚了。
當時我心緒煩亂，情急之下脫口而出。
...but owing to your kindness John and I, then twenty-two years of age...
owing to：由於，因為；多虧
In point of fact, the name was as strange to me as theman.
in point of fact：實際上
