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像爱丽丝的小镇|A small town like Alice

第五章|Chapter 5

属类： 双语小说 【分类】双语小说 阅读：[21184]
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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1942年7月那个晚上，在关丹，一位中士到地区委员住宅找渚蒲大尉，向他报告说那个澳大利亚人还活着。渚蒲大尉觉得既好奇又有趣，既然还有半个小时才吃晚饭，他就信步到游乐场去看看情况。

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犯人的身体仍然被双手吊着，面朝大树。背部已经变成惨不忍睹的污黑一片，血顺着大腿流下来，在地上形成一个黑色的池，已被烈日晒干并氧化。无数苍蝇覆满了身体和血池，但那个男人毫无疑问仍然活着。当渚蒲大尉走近那张脸时，乔睁开双眼看着他，仿佛在跟他打招呼一样。

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西方人很可能从来不曾完全明白日本人的思维方式。当渚蒲大尉看到这个澳大利亚人在死亡边缘向他打招呼的时候，对着这个残破不堪的躯体毕恭毕敬地鞠了一躬，至真至诚地说：“请问在您去世之前，我有什么可以为您效劳的呢？”

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牧工字字清晰地说：“你这个残忍的浑蛋。我要吃你一只黑色小公鸡，再来一瓶啤酒。”

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渚蒲大尉站在那里，看着这个被钉在树上的男人，看着他血肉模糊的身躯，脸上毫无表情。过了一会儿他转身回屋，走进阴凉处时唤来勤务兵，命令勤务兵去给他拿一瓶啤酒和一个玻璃杯，但啤酒不要打开。

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勤务兵坚持说没有啤酒。渚蒲大尉其实对此心知肚明，但还是命令他到镇里去找遍所有中国小吃店，看看能不能在关丹任何地方找到一瓶啤酒。他一个小时后回来时，渚蒲大尉的坐姿仍然和他出发去找啤酒时完全相同。他诚惶诚恐地向上级报告说，全关丹找不出一瓶啤酒来。渚蒲大尉便把他打发走，他高高兴兴地离开了。

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对渚蒲大尉来讲，死亡是一种宗教仪式。他走近澳大利亚人这一举动带着几分神圣的意味。既然他已经当着下属的面，主动要求帮助他的受害者实现临终愿望，就必须亲眼看到它成为现实。如果能找到一瓶啤酒，他会牺牲一只幸存的黑色小公鸡，把煮好的肉和啤酒一起送到树上这个已经奄奄一息的人面前。他甚至可能亲手端托盘。这样做能为他麾下的部队树立起一种骑士精神和武士道的榜样。不幸的是，他已经没有办法赐予他这瓶啤酒，既然缺少了这瓶啤酒，这位士兵的临终愿望也无法完全实现，那就没有理由牺牲掉一只幸存的黑色小公鸡。他也无法实现自己在这个仪式中的角色，没有办法通过恩赐这个临终愿望来发扬武士道精神。因此，他不能允许这位澳大利亚人死去，要不然他自己就会因此受辱。

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他又唤来他的中士，命令中士带一队士兵抬着担架去娱乐场。他们的任务是，在不给澳大利人造成二次伤害的前提下，拔掉他手上的钉子，把他从树上放下来，脸朝下放在担架上送去医院。

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对琴而言，这位澳大利亚人仍然活着的消息，仿佛给她的生命开启了一扇门。她偷偷溜开去，在一棵木麻黄树的绿荫里坐下来，在沙滩边上细细咀嚼这个令人难以置信的事实。阳光打碎在浪花上如烁烁熔金，沙滩白得耀眼夺目，大海蓝得勾魂摄魄，简直是一片极乐狂欢的景象。过去六年，她仿佛一直走在一条黑洞洞的隧道里，而现在，她猛然扎进了光明之中。她尝试祈祷，但她从来不信教，所以不知道怎样把感情灌注进祈祷中。她能做到的，也就只是回想起她在学校跟着大家一起做祈祷时，间或会念到的那些祈祷词。“哦，主啊，请照亮我们的黑暗，求主怜悯……”她就只能想起来这么多。那一整个下午，她对自己一遍又一遍地重复这句话。她的黑暗，已经被挖井队照亮了。

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她那天晚上回到村子后又和苏莱曼谈起那件事情，但他和两个儿子都无法提供更多信息。澳大利亚人在关丹的医院里待了很长时间，但他们不知道具体是多长。雅各布说他在那里待了一年，但她很快就发现，他这么说只是想表达时间很长的意思。侯赛因说是三个月。苏莱曼虽然不知道他住了多久，但说他后来被送上南下新加坡的船，进了战俘营，并说他那个时候是拄着双拐去的。从他们的话里，她无法推断出那是哪一年。

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于是她只好作罢，继续留在瓜拉德朗，等待挖井和修建洗衣房的工程结束。经过与年长妇女的一番长时间商讨之后，她已经让木匠着手装修洗衣房，目前的具体工作是安装百叶窗和晾干油漆。井底终于开始冒水那天，木匠着手为聂帕榈顶洗衣房打桩，最终井和洗衣房几乎同时完工。村民们花了两天把井里的泥水舀出来，井水终于变得清澈透明。然后他们举行了启用仪式——琴用井水洗她的纱笼，村子全体妇女一起笑着涌进洗衣房。男人们远远地站成一个圆圈，宽容地看着她们，暗暗思忖着，允许一样能让女人们乐成这样的事物存在，是否一个明智之举。

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第二天，她请送信人给瓜拉拉吉特的威尔逊-海斯发去一份电报，请他派吉普车来接她回去。几天后车就来了。她在一片混乱腼腆的祝福声中红着眼睛离开了瓜拉德朗。她要回到自己的祖国，回到她的同胞中去，但她也在挥别生命中难以忘怀的三年，那从来都不是一件容易的事。

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她深夜时分才回到哥打巴鲁的官邸，因为太劳累而吃不下任何食物。威尔逊-海斯太太给她的房间送去一杯茶和一些水果。她洗了一个很长时间的热水澡，最后一次脱去了当地衣服。她躺在蚊帐中休息，房间既宽敞又凉快，她渐渐有了睡意。她满脑子想的都是牧工哈曼，他口中那些环绕着爱丽丝斯普林斯的红色郊区，还有岩大袋鼠和野马。

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第二天早上吃完早餐后，她和威尔逊-海斯趁着早晨空气凉爽，在官邸的花园散步。她告诉他她在瓜拉德朗所做的事情，他问她修建洗衣房的主意是从哪儿来的。“她们显然需要一间洗衣房，”她说，“女人都不喜欢在众目睽睽下洗衣服，尤其是穆斯林女人。”

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他思考了一下这个问题。“你很可能开了某种风气，”他最终评论道，“现在每个村子都会想要拥有一个洗衣房了。是谁帮你们设计的——告诉你们如何布置洗衣槽之类？”

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“我们自己想出来的，”她说，“她们很清楚自己的需求。”

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他们沿着河边漫步。这条流入大海的河宽半英里，棕色的河水浑浊不堪。她一边走，一边告诉他那位澳大利亚人的故事，因为她现在可以安心自如地谈论这个话题了。她告诉他事情的经过。“他的名字叫乔·哈曼，”她说，“来自爱丽丝斯普林斯附近某地。我希望能再次联系上他。您认为我有可能在新加坡发现关于他的任何消息吗？”

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他摇摇头。“我认为没有。既然东南亚司令部已经解散了，我想现在无法在新加坡找到任何战俘记录。”

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“那要怎样才能找到他的消息？”

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“你说他是一个澳大利亚人？”

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她点点头。

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“我想你必须写信到堪培拉，”他说，“那里应该有所有战俘的记录。我猜你并没有碰巧知道他的分队编号？”

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她摇摇头。“恐怕没有。”

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“嗯，当然了，这会让事情变得很困难——可能会有好几个乔·哈曼。我先写信给陆军部长——他们就这么称呼他，陆军部的头儿。收件人就写陆军部长，堪培拉，澳大利亚，可能会找到一点线索。我想，你是想要一个他能收到信的地址？”

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琴凝视着河对岸的橡胶树和椰子树。“我想是的。事实上，我大概知道这个地址。他战前在一个名叫沃拉华的牛场工作，在爱丽丝斯普林斯附近。他说那里会为他保留职位。”

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“既然如此，”他说，“我应该写信去那儿。比起堪培拉，写信去沃拉华找到他的机会更大。”

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“我觉得那样做比较好，”她慢慢地说，“我很想再见到他。您也知道，全是因为我们，他才会身受重创……”

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她本打算回新加坡等一艘回国的船。如果要等很久才能有便宜的船票，她打算在新加坡找工作，干上几周或者几个月。马来航空第二天会经停哥打巴鲁，它的空中列车将经停关丹飞往新加坡。当天晚上，她饭后又去找威尔逊-海斯谈话，听取他的建议。

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“如果我在关丹逗留一天，您认为我能找到酒店之类的吗？”她问。

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他慈祥地看着她。“你想回关丹？”他问。

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“我想是的，”她说，“我想去关丹的医院，试试看能不能从医院员工的口里问出一点线索。”

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他说：“你最好住在大卫和乔伊丝·包文夫妇家里。包文是地区委员，他会很乐意为你安排住宿的。”

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“我不想打扰别人，”她说，“我不能住在那里的招待所什么的吗？毕竟我对这个国家很熟悉。”

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“那正是包文将会很乐意接待你的原因，”他说，“你一定要意识到你在这个地区是非常出名的人。如果你住招待所的话，他会非常失望的。”

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她惊讶地望着他：“人们真的这样看我吗？我只是做了任何一个人都会做的事情。”

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“也许是那样的，”他说，“但关键是，你确实这么做了。”

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她第二天坐飞机南下关丹。肯定有人把她的故事告诉了机组成员，因为起飞后半小时，马来空姐走到她跟前对她说：“佩吉特小姐，我们马上要飞经瓜拉德朗，菲尔比机长想知道您是否愿意到驾驶舱来看一眼。”于是她走向机头，穿过驾驶舱门，站在飞行员中间。他们把空中列车下降到大约七百英尺高，在村子上空盘旋。她能看到那口井和洗衣房的新聂帕榈屋顶，也能看到人们站在那里仰头盯着这架飞机看，法缇玛、祖贝达和马特·阿明。然后飞机直线上升，继续沿着海岸南下，瓜拉德朗被抛在了后面。

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包文夫妇在位于关丹市外十英里的机场迎接她。威尔逊-海斯当天上午通过无线电通知了他们琴的造访。他们是一对友好朴素的夫妇。她和他们坐在地区委员住宅里聊天，那正是渚蒲大尉从前常常坐着喝咖啡的地方。她毫无困难地向他们简述了那位澳洲士兵惨遭折磨的故事。他们说现在医院由弗罗斯特护士长负责，但他们怀疑现在是否还有1942年就已经在那里工作的老员工。他们喝完茶后就开车去找弗罗斯特护士长。

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弗罗斯特护士长在护士长室接待了他们。护士长室卫生清洁，弥漫着一股强烈的消毒水味儿。她是一个年纪四十上下的英国女人。“这里没有那个时候的老员工，”她说，“护士在这样的地方——她们总是为了结婚而离职。我们从来没有办法把她们留在这里超过两年。我不知道可以给你们提供什么线索。”

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包文说：“菲利斯·威廉姆斯呢？她从前是这里的护士吧？”

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“哦，她，”护士长轻蔑地说，“战争爆发的时候她在这里工作，直到她嫁给那个男人。她可能会知道点儿什么。”

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他们离开医院，开车去找菲利斯·威廉姆斯。途中包文太太告诉琴这个人的身世。“她是一个欧亚混血儿，”她说，“很黑，差不多就跟马来人一样黑。她和一个叫林本泰的中国人结了婚，那人是开电影院的。那就是人们所谓的异族通婚，不过他们好像相处得不错。当然了，她是天主教徒。”琴终其一生都没能搞懂这个“当然了”是什么意思。

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林本泰夫妇住在山上一栋摇摇晃晃的木房子里，从那里可以俯瞰海港。他们无法把车开到房子跟前，就把它留在路中间，沿着一条遍地垃圾的短路走上去。菲利斯·威廉姆斯太太在家接待了他们。她是一个满脸喜悦的棕色皮肤女人，带着四个小孩儿，很明显第五个也快要出世了。她看见他们很高兴，把他们带进一间简陋的会客室，那里主要的装饰品是一套锡镴啤酒杯和一幅石印油画，上面画着长袍加身的国王和女王。

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她的英语说得非常好。“噢，是的，我记得那个可怜的家伙，”她说，“乔·哈曼，他是叫这个名字。我看护了他有三到四个月——他进来时确实伤得很严重。我们没有人以为他能活下来，但他挺过来了。他之前肯定非常健壮，因为他肌肉的恢复情况好得惊人。他说他就像一条狗。他康复得太好了。”

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她转向琴。“您就是那位带领那群来自帕农的妇女和孩子渡过难关的女士？”她问，“我猜肯定是。真想不到您又回来了！他一直惦记着您和您的同伴，希望有人能告诉他你们后来去哪儿了。当然了，我们不知道，而且渚蒲大尉对这件事情又那么敏感，哪有人敢四周围打探你们的消息？”

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她转向琴。“我忘记您的名字了。”

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“佩吉特。琴·佩吉特。”

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这位欧亚混血儿一脸困惑。“不是这个名字。难道他提到的是另一个人？我记不起来他是怎样称呼她的了，但不是这个名字。我原来还以为他说的是您呢。”

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“弗里思太太？”

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她摇摇头。“过一会儿我就会想起来了。”

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她所知道的比琴多不了多少。澳大利亚人刚刚康复到能够旅行，就被送往南方新加坡的战俘营。她们从此再也没有听到过他的消息。她们想他最后肯定完全康复了，虽然，即使最终他背上的肌肉能恢复力量，也要等上好几年。她知道的也就这么多了。

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他们不久就告辞了，顺着那条满是垃圾的小道往下走去开车。差不多走到山脚的时候，那个女人从阳台叫住了他们。“我刚想起来那个名字。土著太太。那就是他从不离口的名字，土著太太。那是你们中的一员吗？”

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琴笑着向她喊回去：“他过去就是那样叫我的！”

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那个女人感到很满意。“我就说他总挂在嘴边的人肯定就是您。”

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在开车回地区委员住宅的路上，他们经过那个游乐场。网球场上的网不知道什么时候安好了，几对夫妇正在打网球，还有一个年轻的白人小伙儿在和一个棕色皮肤的女孩儿一起打。琴又看见那棵俯视网球场的树，树下有两个马来妇女坐在那块曾经浸满了鲜血的地上。在她们头顶上方，就是那个男人曾经的受难处。她们在闲话家常，孩子在周围嬉戏。在晚上柔和的灯光下，一切都显得那么宁静安详。

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琴当天晚上住在包文家中，第二天继续坐空中列车前往新加坡。按照威尔逊-海斯的建议，她就住在大教堂对面的阿德尔菲旅馆。

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几天后她从那里给我写信。那封信很长，大约有八页，用钢笔写成。在那个潮湿的地方，她写信时手上出的汗弄污了一些字迹。她首先告诉我在瓜拉德朗发生的事情，挖井队的故事和乔·哈曼仍然活着的消息。然后她继续写道：

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我正苦恼于不知道怎样才能跟他再次联系上。您也知道，他遭到毒打完全是因为我们的缘故。他为我们去偷鸡时，肯定知道渚蒲大尉是个什么样的人，也知道自己在冒着多么可怕的危险。我一定要弄清楚他现在住在什么地方，是否安好。我无法相信他在受了那么严重的伤之后，还能做骑马放牧的工作。我想，如果他健康无事，就总能福星高照，逢凶化吉。但我无法承受他也许还躺在医院里的想法，并且他也许，甚至很可能因为受伤太重而要在那里度过余生。

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我确实有想过写信给他，寄到他跟我提到过的沃拉华，他工作的牛场，在爱丽丝斯普林斯附近。但仔细想想，如果他丧失了劳动能力，为什么还要回去那里呢？我永远都不会从那样一个地方收到回信，反正短时间内不会。我想过写信到堪培拉去，尝试找到一点线索，但也应该不会得到更理想的结果。正因为如此，我做了一个决定，这也是我给你写这封信的初衷，诺尔。我希望这个决定不会使你太震惊：我要从这里去澳大利亚。

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请不要因此认为我彻头彻尾地疯了。从这里坐星宿号到达尔文需要花六十英镑。从达尔文可以坐公共汽车到爱丽丝斯普林斯，大概要花两到三天时间，不过比坐飞机便宜很多。结完这里酒店的账后，我还剩下大约一百零七英镑，不包括下个月的收入。我想我可以从爱丽丝斯普林斯去这个叫沃拉华的地方，找到一些关于他的消息。那个地区肯定有人知道他的遭遇和行踪。

60
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我在这里认识了一些海上贸易官员，都是非常友好的年轻男士。他们告诉我，我应该能在澳大利亚东海岸昆士兰的汤斯维尔找到一艘商船回英国。如果汤斯维尔没有船，到布里斯班就一定有。我跟莱佛士坊渣打银行的一位先生谈过，他非常热心，我请他将我下个月的钱汇入爱丽丝斯普林斯的新南威尔士银行，这样我就有钱横跨澳大利亚去汤斯维尔或者布里斯班了。请你费心为我写一封信到爱丽丝斯普林斯的新南威尔士银行，因为我抵达那里时将深感故乡迢递。

61
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我将会在本周四坐星宿号离开此地，所以当你收到这封信时，我大约已经到达澳大利亚某地。我感觉我对你来讲肯定是个绝顶可恶的麻烦鬼，诺尔，但我回家后有一大堆话要跟你说。我想从汤斯维尔或者布里斯班回家的旅程顶多不会超过三个月，所以我无论如何都能赶得上回英国过圣诞。

62
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我坐在那里反复读这封信，感到深深的失望。我想我一直在计划着等她回来后带她到处玩——实际上我都计划好了。上了年纪的人，过着一种多少有点空虚无聊的生活，在那种事情上面常常会变得非常愚蠢。在我第三次读这封信的时候，列斯特·罗宾逊拿着一捆文件走进我办公室。“我的佩吉特姑娘，”我说，“你知道——她继承的就是麦法登先生托管给我们的那笔遗产。她完全不打算回家，而要从马来亚继续去澳大利亚。”

63
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他扫了我一眼。我想我的眼光流露出失望之情，因为他温和地说：“我告诉过你，她的年龄大得足以给我们制造一大堆麻烦。”我迅速抬起头来望着他，想知道他说那句话的意思，但他开始谈论科尔切斯特的一条私家路，那一刻就这么晃过去了。

64
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我继续工作，但糟糕的情绪一直萦绕不去，直至晚上去到俱乐部时依然没有好转。晚饭后，我安静地坐在图书馆里读一卷贺拉斯，因为我想，读拉丁文所需的大脑活动可以把烦心事从脑子中清除出去，让心情变好。但是，我想我已经忘记了我的贺拉斯，因为那几行诗，过去四十年里不曾读过也不曾想起过的，现在仿佛从书页上凝视着我，把我弄得晕头转向：

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在那里

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我将爱上我的莱拉姬

67
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她柔声细语，笑容甜美

68
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这几行诗曾经是我青春的一部分，我想对于许多谈过恋爱的年轻男士来说，它们同样地刻骨铭心。读完它们之后我无法忍受继续读贺拉斯，我坐在那里，想着我的莱拉姬，她的柔声细语和甜美笑容。她此刻正坐在长途公共汽车里，在去爱丽丝斯普林斯的路上，直到我猛然打破这种病态的幻想，起身把书放回书架上。

69
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肯定过了有一个星期之后，有一天，我刚送走一个客户，德里克·哈里斯就走进我的房间。德里克是我们事务所两个学徒办事员之一，是个一脸稚气的小伙子，很讨人喜欢，我希望有一天能把他提拔为合伙人。他说：“先生，请问您能抽出几分钟来见一位陌生人吗？”

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“怎样的陌生人？”我问。

71
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他说：“一个叫作哈曼的人。他大约一个小时之前到达，请求见您，但没有预约。冈宁律师问，既然您没有空，我是否可以替您见见他，我就和他聊了一会儿，但他想见的是您。我了解到那跟佩吉特小姐的事情有关系。”

72
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我现在想起来从前在什么地方听到过这个名字了，但那真是难以置信。我问：“是一位怎样的男士？”

73
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他咧开嘴笑道：“我想是个殖民地居民吧，很可能是澳大利亚人。总之看起来像是在户外工作的。”

74
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“他是个通情达理的人吗？”

75
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“哦，我想是的，先生。我想他大概是个乡下人。”

76
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开始对得上号了。但是，一个澳大利亚牧工居然能找到我在赞善里的办公室来，还是令人非常难以置信。“他是碰巧叫作约瑟夫吗？”我问道。

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“您认识他，是不是，先生？乔·哈曼。我要叫他上来吗？”

78
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我点点头。“我现在就见他。”哈里斯下楼去接他，我走到窗前看着外面灰色的街道，一边思考这个拜访意味着什么，将如何改变这一切的走向，以及我可以把我客户的多少信息透露给他。

79
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哈里斯把他带进来，我转身迎接他。

80
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他是一个金发男人，大约五英尺十英寸高，身材矮壮，但不胖。我猜他三十到三十五岁。他的脸被晒成深棕色，但皮肤光滑，有一双湛蓝的眼睛。他谈不上英俊，脸太方正了些，但看上去却单纯温厚。他以一种古怪的僵硬步姿走向我。

81
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我和他握手。“哈曼先生？”我说，“我是斯特拉坎。您想见我吗？”说话的时候，我无法抑制冲动，低头看他的手。在他手背上有一个巨大的疤痕。

82
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他有点笨拙地说：“我不想占用您太多时间。”他局促不安，一脸窘迫。

83
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“没关系，”我说，“请坐，哈曼先生。请告诉我有什么可以为您效劳的。”我请他坐在桌子前面的客户椅里，给他一根香烟。他从口袋里摸出一个装着蜡梗火柴的铁盒，那种风格对我而言非常陌生。他娴熟地用拇指指甲划燃一根，也没有烧到自己。他穿着一套很新的成衣西服，花里胡哨的领带在伦敦显得相当扎眼。

84
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“我想问问您，能不能请您告诉我关于琴·佩吉特小姐的一些消息，”他说，“她住在哪里之类的。”

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我微微一笑。“佩吉特小姐是我的客户，哈曼先生，”我说，“您显然知道。但客户信息是绝对保密的。您是她的朋友吗？”

86
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这个问题似乎使他更加窘迫了。“差不多吧，”他回答说，“我们在战争时期见过一次面，在马来亚。哦，对了，我想我应该先做自我介绍。我是昆士兰人，在海湾地区经营一个牛场，大约离威尔斯镇二十英里远。”他说起话来慢悠悠懒洋洋的，似乎平时就这样说话，非因窘迫。“我的意思是，我的牧场住宅离威尔斯镇有二十英里远，但牛场的地界沿着小溪向南延伸，距离威尔斯镇只有五英里。我的牛场名叫米德赫斯特，地址是威尔斯镇米德赫斯特。”

87
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我在便笺上记下来，再次向他微笑。“哈曼先生，您可是不远万里来到这里呢。”我说。

88
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“太对了，”他回答，“我在英国没有认识的人，除了佩吉特小姐和一个在战俘营认识的哥们儿，他住在英格兰北部一个叫作盖茨黑德的地方。您可以说我是来这里度假的，我想佩吉特小姐听到我在英国大概也会很高兴，但我不知道她的地址。”

89
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“来这里度假是不是太远了一些啊？”我说。

90
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他有点不好意思地笑了。“我中奖了。中了‘珍宝盒’。”

91
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“珍宝盒？”

92
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“黄金珍宝盒。这里没有吗？”

93
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我摇摇头。“恐怕我没有听过。”

94
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“哦，老天，”他说，“在昆士兰，没有珍宝盒我们就活不下去。那是州彩票，筹集到的资金用来修建医院。”

95
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“原来如此，”我说，“您中了彩票？”

96
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“哦，老天，”他重复道，“我中了彩票？我赢了一千镑——当然不是英镑，但那也是我们的一千镑。我总是像其他人一样每期都买，因为即使你赢不了奖，你也会有一个医院，有些时候那可能更有用。您一定要去看看珍宝盒在威尔斯镇修建的那家医院，有三个病房，每个病房里有两张床，还有两个护士室和一个给医生用的独立屋子。只是我们现在还请不到医生，因为威尔斯镇有一点偏僻。我们有一台X光机，还有无线电，这样护士就可以呼叫‘凯恩斯救护车’——那架飞机。我们没有珍宝盒真不行。”

97
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我不得不说我对此有点感兴趣了。“飞机也是珍宝盒花钱买的吗？”

98
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他摇摇头。“每个家庭每年付七磅十分给‘凯恩斯救护车’，如果生病了，必须到凯恩斯去，护士就会用无线电呼叫在凯恩斯的工作人员，飞机就过来把你送去凯恩斯的医院。那是免费的，但你必须每年交七磅十分。”

99
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“你们离凯恩斯有多远？”

100
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“大约三百英里。”

101
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我把话题转回手头事务上。“请告诉我，哈曼先生，”我说，“您怎么知道我是佩吉特小姐的律师？”

102
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“我们在马来亚认识的时候，她告诉我她住在南安普敦，”他说，“我不知道任何地址，所以去了南安普顿，住在旅馆里，因为我想如果她知道我在英国，她会感到高兴的。我以前从未见过曾被轰炸的城市——哦，老天。嗯，然后我查询电话号簿，问了很多人，但我找不到任何她的消息，除了她有一位住在威尔士的姑姑，在一个叫作科尔温贝的地方。于是我就去了科尔温贝。”

103
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“您直接去的科尔温贝？”

104
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他点点头。“我想她的姑姑认为我是个骗子，”他坦白地说，“不肯告诉我地址或者任何其他消息，只说您是她的托管人。我也不知道那是什么意思。于是我就来到这里。”

105
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“您什么时候到的英国？”我问。

106
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“上周四。五天前。”

107
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“您在南安普顿上的岸？”

108
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他摇摇头。“我从澳大利亚坐澳航的飞机来的。您瞧，我找到一个很好的牧工替我照料米德赫斯特，但离开太久的话我也受不了。吉姆·伦农可以看一段时间，但我不想离开米德赫斯特超过三个月。您瞧，现在在海湾地区是闲季。我们今年等到合适的季节，三月集合，四月把牲口赶到南边的朱利亚克利克——在铁轨末端。我有大约一千四百头牲口要送到罗克汉普顿去育肥。嗯，把它们送上火车后，我就要回到米德赫斯特，因为我请了一个施工队在那里钻孔。我让斯皮尔斯太太——她是米德赫斯特的业主——我让她同意我们在杨柳河放下一个钻头，大概离牧场住宅东南二十英里，这样旱季的时候就可以从河里抽水了。我们有一个很棒的钻头，我们真的有。大概每天能抽三万加仑，能大大改善我们的供水。嗯，三周前我才把钻孔的工程安排好。我必须最晚十月底回到米德赫斯特收回那些牲口，赶在圣诞节的雨季开始之前。所以我想，要趁这个假期过来的话，最好坐飞机。”

109
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我想，坐飞机来英国肯定花掉了他大部分奖金。“这么说，您是在伦敦下的飞机，然后直接南下去了南安普敦？”

110
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“没错。”他说。

111
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“然后您又北上北威尔士，再从北威尔士回伦敦？”

112
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“没错。”

113
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我看着他的眼睛，微微一笑。“您肯定非常想见佩吉特小姐。”

114
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他迎着我的目光。“我是很想见她。”

115
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我靠回椅子上。“恐怕我要告诉您一个令人失望的消息，哈曼先生。佩吉特小姐出国了。”

116
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他低头盯着他的帽子。过了一会儿，他抬起头来。“她去了很远的地方吗？”他问，“我的意思是，如果她去了法国之类的，我可以去找她。”

117
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我摇摇头。“她正在东方旅行。”

118
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他轻轻地说：“我知道了……”

119
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我对这位男士的喜爱和尊敬之情油然而生。毫无疑问，为了找琴·佩吉特，他走了大约一万两千英里，却扑了个空。一般人遇到这种情况，至少会抱怨一下运气不佳，但他却安然接受。我觉得自己需要一点时间来考虑这件事情。

120
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“我能帮您的，”我说，“顶多就是把您的信转交给她。如果您希望给她写一封信，我可以通过航空邮件寄给她。但恐怕您要等大约一个月才能收到回信。”

121
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他喜笑颜开。“那太好了。我想都没想过，走了这么远的路来到这里，却发现她去‘丛林流浪’了。”

122
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他想了一会儿。“我应该在信上写什么地址？”

123
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“我不能把客户的地址给您，哈曼先生，”我说，“我建议您给她写一封信，明天早上带过来给我。我会附上一个简短的说明，告诉她我是怎样得到这封信的。如果她想见您，就会亲自跟您联系。”

124
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“您认为她会不想见我吗？”他沉重地说。

125
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我微微一笑。“我没有那样说，哈曼先生。我敢肯定，如果她听说您到英国来找她，她会给您写信的。我要说的是，我需要考虑她的利益，不管是谁来到这个办公室并希望得到她的地址，都不会如愿。”我顿了顿，“有一件事情您最好知道，”我说，“佩吉特小姐是一位非常富有的女士。身家丰厚的女士们往往容易被骗子缠上。我不是说您是骗子，或者您在追逐她的金钱，我说的是您必须先给她写信，让她决定是否愿意见您。如果您是她的朋友，您会发现这样做合情合理。”

126
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他睁大眼睛看着我。“我从来没听说过她有钱。她告诉我她只是在办公室工作的打字员。”

127
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“是这样没错，”我说，“但她最近继承了一笔钱。”

128
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他陷入了沉默。

129
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“明天早上我会在这里等您，哈曼先生。”我说，扫了一眼我的预约日志，“明天上午十二点如何？请您给她写信，畅所欲言，并把信带过来。明天晚上我就会把信转寄给她。”

130
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“好的。”他说。他站起来，我也随着起身。“您晚上住在哪里呢，哈曼先生？”我问。

131
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“金域皇宫酒店。”

132
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“好的，哈曼先生，”我说，“明天上午十二点见。”

133
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那晚我几乎整晚都在想，拒绝把地址告诉乔·哈曼是不是做对了。我满心后悔地想，琴如果知道我这么做肯定会勃然大怒，尤其是当她正满澳大利亚找他的时候。同时我又想道，我的所作所为并不会耽误他的信送到她手上的时间，而且也没有理由现在就把她所有的底细和盘托出。一件使我有点困惑的事情是，为什么他突然在六年后想起来要再见琴一面呢？似乎有必要问他几个问题以弄清楚此事。我准备等他带着信来见我的时候，对他进行一次小小的审讯。

134
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第二天上午十二点的时候，他并没有出现。一直等到一点钟，他还没来，我就去吃午饭了。

135
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三点的时候我有一点着急了。主动权落到了他手里。如果他人间蒸发，再也不来见我，琴·佩吉特将理直气壮地对我大发雷霆。在等待客户的间歇，我打电话去金域皇宫酒店，请求和乔·哈曼先生通话。酒店答复说哈曼先生早饭后就外出了，并未在前台留下任何口信。我给他留了一条信息，请他回到酒店后马上与我电话联系。

136
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他一整天都没有打电话给我。

137
-

那天晚上十点半的时候，我再次打电话去酒店，但酒店说哈曼先生不在。

138
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第二天早上八点，我再次致电酒店。酒店说哈曼先生没有退房，行李还在房间里，但他昨天晚上也没有回去睡觉。

139
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我一进办公室，马上叫来德里克·哈里斯。“哈里斯，”我说，“我想请你试着找一下那个叫哈曼的男人。他是一个澳大利亚人。”我向他简要说明了情况。“我会再尝试给酒店打电话，如果你扑了空，请给附近各个治安法庭打电话。”

140
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三刻钟后他回来了。“您太有先见之明了，”他说，“他今天早上将因醉酒闹事在弓街接受审讯，昨晚他被关在监狱里。”

141
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“他是佩吉特小姐的朋友。”我说，“哈里斯，赶紧去弓街，告诉他你是谁。他在哪个治安法庭接受审讯？”

142
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“奥莱法官那里。”

143
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我看了一眼手表。“现在马上去。陪着他，如果他没有钱，你就替他付罚款。完事后给我打个电话。如果没有其他意外情况，带他坐出租车到我公寓来，我在那里等你们。”

144
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那天我桌上并没有不能推迟处理或者由列斯特帮我处理的文件。我及时赶回公寓，趁保姆还没走，让她把空房间的床铺好。我告诉她我需要在公寓里吃三四顿饭，并给她钱让她去买任何能找到的非配给粮食。

145
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半小时后哈里斯和哈曼一起回来了。澳大利亚人的衣服邋里邋遢的。在监狱里待了一个晚上后，他精神很好，也很清醒，但他丢了一只鞋、一个纽扣和帽子。我到大堂去迎接他。“早安，哈曼先生，”我说，“我想也许您更愿意先来这里把自己收拾干净。您最好不要以这副尊容回酒店。”

146
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他看着我的眼睛。“我一直在喝格罗格酒。”他说。

147
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“看出来了。如果您想洗澡的话，水已经烧好。浴室里还有一个剃须刀。”我带他熟悉了房子的布局。“您可以用这个房间。”我上下打量他，笑道，“我会给您找一件干净的衬衣。您可以试穿我的鞋，如果它们太小，我就让人送一双大点的过来。”

148
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他摇摇头。“我不知道您为什么要这么照顾我。我会没事儿的。”

149
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“如果您洗个澡，好好刮刮胡子，那样会更好。”我说，“如果我让佩吉特小姐的朋友就这样邋里邋遢地在大街上招摇过市，她是不会原谅我的。”

150
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他好奇地望着我，但我离开他回到起居室。哈里斯正在那里等我。“谢谢，德里克，”我说，“罚了一笔钱吧？”

151
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“五十先令，”他说，“我先垫付了。”

152
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我把钱给他。“他是不是已经身无分文了？”

153
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“他有四英镑四便士半，”他回答，“他想他还有七十英镑，但不确定。”

154
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“他好像并不担心钱的事情。”我说。

155
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他笑道：“我也这么觉得。他好像对自己的财产状况非常乐观。”

156
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我让哈里斯先回办公室。哈曼洗澡的时候，我在桌子前坐下来写了几封信。不久他走进起居室，看起来有点害羞，我又一次注意到他那奇怪僵硬的步姿。“我不知道可以说什么，”他拖着慢悠悠的腔调说，“和我一起的家伙把我身上所有钱都拿走了，所以哈里斯先生不得不帮我交罚款。但我还有一点钱。我有一个叫作信用证的东西，是布里斯班的银行开给我的。我可以凭信用证取钱还给他。”

157
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“没关系的。”我说，“你吃早饭了吗？”

158
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“没有。”

159
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“想不想吃一点？”

160
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“嗯，我不知道。也许我可以回酒店找点东西吃。”

161
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“不必这样，”我说，“我的保姆还没走，她可以给你做点早饭。”我出去吩咐保姆做早饭，回来时发现他站在窗前。

162
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“你没有带着信回办公室找我。”我说。

163
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“我改变主意了，”他说，“我决定作罢。”

164
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“作罢？”

165
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“没错，”他说，“我什么信都不会写。”

166
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“那似乎太遗憾了。”我轻轻地说。

167
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“也许吧。我很仔细地考虑过了，我什么信都不会写。我决定了。那就是我没如约回去的原因。”

168
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“随你所愿。”我说，“也许等你吃完早饭后，会愿意跟我更详细地谈谈你的决定。”

169
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我打发他去吃早饭，然后继续写我的信。保姆把早饭带到饭厅，他就在那里吃。一刻钟后，他回起居室找我。

170
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“我最好现在就走。”他窘迫地说，“我可不可以今天晚些时候再回来，把鞋子还给保姆？”

171
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我站起来，给他一根香烟。“在你离开之前，能不能让我更好地了解一下你呢？”我问，“是这样的，我过一两天就会给佩吉特小姐写信，她肯定想知道关于你的一切。”

172
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他拿着香烟看着我。“您要写信告诉她我来过这里？”

173
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“当然了。”

174
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他默默站了一会儿，然后用他慢悠悠的昆士兰腔调说：“您最好把这件事给忘了吧，斯特拉坎先生。别跟她提起我。”

175
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我划了一根火柴，替他点着香烟。“是不是因为我跟你提到的那笔遗产？”

176
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“您是指，因为她变富有了？”

177
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“是的。”

178
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他咧嘴一笑。“我不会介意她富有，就像任何其他男人一样。不是因为这个，是因为威尔斯镇。”

179
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当然了，这句话对我而言比希腊文还要难懂。我说：“乔，坐几分钟，跟我说几句话，对你而言又没有什么损失。”我叫他乔，因为我想那也许可以使他放松下来。

180
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“我不知道有什么可以跟您说的。”他不好意思地说。

181
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“无论如何，请先坐下。”我想了一会儿，然后说，“如果我没记错的话，你和佩吉特小姐的第一次见面是在战争期间？”

182
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“没错。”他说。

183
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“那是在马来亚，你们都是战俘的时候？”

184
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“没错。”

185
-

“1942年的某个时候？”

186
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“没错。”

187
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“从此之后，你就再也没有见过她，也没有给她写过信？”

188
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“没错。”

189
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“嗯，我弄不明白的就是这个，”我说，“为什么你现在突然这么渴望见她？毕竟你最后一次跟她见面已经是六年前了。为什么现在突然这么着急要想跟她取得联系呢？”我的脑海中仍然有个模糊的想法：他可能偶尔听到她现在很有钱。

190
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他抬起头来看着我，咧嘴笑道：“我之前以为她已经结婚了。”

191
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我盯着他看。“我知道了……你什么时候发现她单身的？”

192
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“我今年五月才刚知道的。我在朱利亚克里克碰见一个飞行员，当时正是他开飞机送她从马来亚一个叫作哥打巴鲁的地方离开。”

193
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他在吉姆·伦农和两个土著骑马放牧人的帮助下，赶着他的一千四百头牛从米德赫斯特牛场南下到朱利亚克里克。取道诺曼河、萨克斯比河和弗林德斯河的话，从米德赫斯特到朱利亚克里克大概要走三百英里。他们三月底离开米德赫斯特，每天赶着牛群走大约十英里，5月3日到达朱利亚克里克的火车始发站。牲口被关进火车站的畜栏，他们花了差不多三天时间把它们赶上火车。

194
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在此期间，吉姆和乔住在朱利亚克里克的邮局旅店。当时天气酷热，他们每天工作十四个小时，把牛赶上火车。他们一休息就站在旅店的酒吧里海喝冰镇澳大利亚淡啤酒——人们因干重体力活而挥汗如雨时，喝这种啤酒对身体没有坏处。一天晚上，他们站着喝啤酒时，两位制服笔挺的男士走进酒吧，叫了好几巡啤酒。他们是跨澳大利亚航空公司空中列车的飞行员，那天晚上因为飞机右舷漏油，停宿在朱利亚克里克。

195
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哈曼恰好坐在机长旁边。他头戴原本属于美国军队的一顶绿色麻太阳帽，穿一件棉汗衫和一条脏兮兮的卡其短裤，光脚穿着靴子。他的外表和这位整洁的飞行员形成奇怪的对比，但飞行员对内地风气早已见怪不怪。他们开始谈论战争的话题，很快就发现大家都曾经在马来亚服役。乔让飞行员看他的伤疤，飞行员饶有兴味地察看一番。他告诉他们自己曾经被钉起来毒打，他们给他叫了一瓶格罗格酒。

196
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“在我所见所闻中最有趣的，”不久机长说，“就是一群女人和孩子，他们从未进入战俘营。他们战争期间大部分时间都在一个马来村庄的稻田里劳作。”

197
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乔很快地说：“在马来亚什么地方？我认识那群人。”

198
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飞行员说：“在关丹和哥打巴鲁中间某个地方。我们回去的时候，他们已经被卡车送到哥打巴鲁，我开飞机把他们送到新加坡。他们都是英国人，但看起来就跟马来人一模一样。所有女人都穿着当地衣服，晒得跟周围的人一样黑。”

199
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乔说：“那群人里面有没有一个佩吉特太太？”对他而言，顶重要的是知道琴是否在战争中幸存了下来。

200
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飞行员说：“有一位佩吉特小姐。她真是一个好女孩儿，是他们的首领。”

201
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乔说：“太太。一个黑头发少妇，带着一个婴儿。”

202
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飞行员说：“是的——一个黑头发女孩。她带着一个四岁左右的小男孩儿，但不是她的孩子。那孩子的母亲去世了，也是她的同伴。我知道这一点，因为她是唯一一个未婚姑娘，是他们的首领。战前她只是在吉隆坡工作的打字员。琴·佩吉特小姐。”

203
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乔睁大眼睛看着他：“我以为她已经嫁人了。”

204
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“她没有结婚。我知道她没有，因为日本人把结婚戒指都没收了，所以她们把自己分得很清楚。她们都被叫作这个太太那个太太的，除了这个姑娘之外，她是琴·佩吉特小姐。”

205
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“那就对了，”牧工慢慢地说，“她是叫琴。”

206
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过了一会儿，他从酒吧出来到门廊上，站着仰望星空。不久他离开酒吧漫步走向畜栏，找到一扇门倚着，在夜色中站了很久，把所有和琴有关的事情细细思考了一遍。那天早上在我伦敦的公寓里，他向我透露了一点他思考的内容。

207
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“她是个了不起的姑娘，”他坦白地说，“我要结婚的话就找她那样的。”

208
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我微微一笑。“我明白了。”我说，“那就是你来英国的原因？”

209
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“没错。”他坦率地说。他跟吉姆和土著木工一起骑马回米德赫斯特，牵着走成一队的十五匹驮马，花了大约十天时间。自从他们二月在牛场集合，已经差不多在马鞍上连续度过了三个月。“我还要回去处理钻头的事，”他说，“我原来跟斯皮尔斯太太强调过，在钻头完工之前我走不了，但我食言了，找个周三去了凯恩斯，和约翰·达菲一起坐‘勤务机’去的，”——后来我知道了那是指每周一次的空中列车航空邮件服务——“并从那里南下布里斯班，然后从布里斯班来这儿。”

210
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“那黄金珍宝盒呢？”我问。

211
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他有点不好意思地说：“我没有跟您说实话。我确实赢了一次珍宝盒，但不是今年。那是1946年的事情，我回到昆士兰的第二年。正如我之前说的，我当时赢了一千镑。”

212
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“原来如此，”我说，“你没把奖金花掉？”

213
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他摇摇头。“我把它存起来了，也许有一天我要买一个自己的牛场，或者做牛的买卖，或者别的什么。”

214
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“你觉得现在你还剩下多少钱？”

215
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他说：“信用证上还有五百澳大利亚镑，我想那就是我全副身家了，大概有四百英镑吧。当然了，我当经理的工资每个月都会打入威尔斯镇的银行里。”

216
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我坐着默默抽了会儿烟。我无法不为这个男人感到心疼。自从他六年前遇见琴之后，就一直把她放在心里，希望找到一个带着她一点影子的人。当他听说她还没结婚的时候，就把所有那么一点储蓄全部取出，不惜代价急急忙忙飞越半个世界到英国来，希望能找到她，并发现她仍是单身。那是一个赌徒的行为，但他整个人生很可能都是由赌博构成的，在内地很难不是如此。显然，如果他的钱能够为他换来一个和琴·佩吉特结婚的机会，他是完全不会在意这点钱的。

217
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想到她此时此刻正在他的国家四处奔走寻找他的踪迹，真是让人觉得很讽刺。我觉得我还未准备好把这个消息告诉他。

218
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“我仍然不能理解，为什么你放弃了给佩吉特小姐写信的念头。”我最后说，“你好像提到了威尔斯镇。”

219
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“是的。”他顿了顿，然后拖着他那种慢腾腾的腔调说，“我跟您告别后，想了很多，斯特拉坎先生。也许我真应该先把这件事情考虑清楚再离开米德赫斯特。我告诉过您，我从来没有过不跟有钱姑娘结婚的夸张想法。如果是合适的姑娘，她要有钱的话，我会像其他男人一样高兴得要死。但还有比这重要得多的事情。”

220
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他又停顿了一下。“我来自内地，”他慢慢地说，“只会经营牛场，内地的牛场就是我的归宿。我无法在像布里斯班或者悉尼那样的大城市里生活。我甚至都没有办法在凯恩斯生活很久。而且，城市里也没有我可以干的工作。我从小就住在牛场上，没有念过多少书。我不是说我挣不了钱，在经营牛场方面，我可以比大部分牧工干得好，似乎在卖牛方面我也做得不赖。我希望有一天能拥有自己的牛场，很多牛场主都能挣到五万镑身家。但如果我想取得如此成绩，就必须留在内地做我拿手的事情。斯特拉坎先生，我想告诉您，内地对于女人来讲实在是糟糕透顶。”

221
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“怎么讲？”我轻轻问道。我们真的在开始认真考虑某些问题了。

222
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他有点挖苦地笑了。“拿威尔斯镇做例子吧。那里收不到任何广播电台，只有发自布里斯班的短波，还老被静电干扰。没有卖新鲜蔬菜和水果的商店，护士说这就是很多老人家患上糙皮病的原因；也没有新鲜牛奶和成衣店。女人可以逛的地方只有卖干豆子、杰伊斯液之类的比尔·邓肯商店。在威尔斯镇吃不到冰淇淋，没有可以让女人买到报纸、杂志或者书的地方，也没有医生，因为没有医生愿意到威尔斯镇来。没有电话。没有游泳池让女孩们穿得漂漂亮亮地坐在边上嬉戏，虽然那里很热，哦，老天。也没有其他年轻女士。我相信那个地区十七到四十岁之间的女士不超过五个人。她们一旦到了能离家的年纪，就背井离乡到城市去。你可以坐飞机去凯恩斯买点东西，但机票很贵，要不然就开四天吉普车去，完了你会发现吉普车的轮子全部都要换掉。”他顿了顿，“对男士来讲，那是一个生活和工作的好地方，能赚很多钱，但对女士来说那里实在是糟糕透顶。”

223
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“我明白了，”我说，“是不是所有的内地小镇都那样？”

224
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“大部分都是，”他说，“有一些镇会大一点，像克朗克里。当然了，它们好一些。但是，卡穆威尔、诺曼顿、伯克敦、克罗伊登和乔治敦——它们都跟威尔斯镇差不多。”他停下来思考了一会儿。“只有一个地方适合女人生活，”他说，“爱丽丝斯普林斯。爱丽丝是一个很棒的地方，哦，老天。一个女孩可以在爱丽丝找到她任何想要的东西——两间电影院，卖各种商品的店铺，水果，冰淇淋，新鲜牛奶，埃迪·麦克莱恩的游泳池，那个地方有很多未婚姑娘和年轻的已婚少妇，还有漂亮的房子。爱丽丝是一个很棒的地方，”他说，“但它是独一无二的。”

225
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“为什么呢？”我问，“是什么使得爱丽丝与众不同？”

226
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他挠挠头。“我不知道，”他说，“我想只是因为它比其他地方大一些吧。”

227
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我把这个问题抛开了。“你的意思是，即使你能令佩吉特小姐同意嫁给你，她也无法在威尔斯镇过上快乐的生活？”

228
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他点点头。“是的，”他说，流露出痛苦的眼神，“好像一切都跟我在马来亚遇见她时不一样了。那时她是个一无所有的战俘，我也同样一无所有，所以我们还挺般配的。我一知道她有可能还是单身，就匆忙赶到这里，完全没有先停下来想想内地的情况。也许我有想过，但下意识地把她当成了一个一无所有的人，那样她在威尔斯镇也过得下去。您明白我的意思了吗？”他哀求地看着我，“但来到英国后，我看到南安普敦，即使它已经遭受过轰炸和洗劫，那儿人们的生活方式还是与内地有天壤之别。我还来了伦敦，去过科尔温贝。当您告诉我她变得很富有时，我开始想象她的生活状态，她习以为常的那一类事情，就知道她不会适应威尔斯镇的生活。然后我就觉得自己行事太草率了。我从没听过有哪个从英国直接去内地的姑娘能适应的。对于一个有钱的姑娘来说，那只有更糟糕。”他顿了顿，向我咧嘴一笑，“所以我去喝格罗格酒了。”

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现在，我觉得他去喝格罗格酒一事绝对无可厚非，但很遗憾这让他付出了七十英镑的代价。“是这样，乔，”我说，“我们需要再好好考虑一下这件事。我想我会写信告诉佩吉特小姐，我见过你。她以为你已经死了。”

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他睁大眼睛。“那您知道我？”

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“知道得不多。”我说，“我知道你为她偷过鸡，日本人把你钉起来毒打。她以为你死了。”

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“我真是差不多死了。”他咧嘴笑着说，“她告诉您了，是不是？”

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我点点头。“她为此事悲伤不已，”我轻轻地说，“你也不想让她继续悲伤下去吧？她认为那都是她的过错。”

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“完全不是她的错，”他拖着那种慢悠悠的腔调说，“她告诉我不要自己把脖子伸出去让别人砍。我却不听劝阻，并为此付出了代价。完全不是她的错。”

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“我想你应该写信给她。”我重复道。

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接下来很长一段时间，我们都没有说话。

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“给她写信的话，我不知道到底可以说些什么。”他嘟囔道。

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继续为这个问题伤脑筋是没有意义的，我放弃了。“是这样，乔，”我说，“花点时间好好想想。你必须最晚什么时候回到澳大利亚？”

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“我如果不能在十月底之前回到牛场，斯皮尔斯太太就会谴责我。”他说，“我要遵守诺言。”

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“这么说你还有两个半月的时间。”我说，“你的来程机票花了多少钱？”

241
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“三百二十五磅。”他说。

242
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“这么说你的信用证上还剩下五百镑？”

243
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“没错。”

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“你是想坐飞机回去呢，还是更愿意走海路？如果你想走海路，我可以帮你买到船票。我估计坐一艘不定期货船回去要花大概八十镑，但你必须尽快离开——大约两周之内。”

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“我留在这里好像也没有什么意义了。”他有点疲倦地说，“她会不会在十月底前回到英国？”

246
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“恐怕不会。”

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“我最好坐船回去，把剩下的钱省下来。”

248
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“我认为那很明智。”我说，“我会派下属替你买船票。在回国之前，你为什么不搬来这里住？欢迎你使用我的空房间，那会比你住酒店便宜一些。”

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“我不会妨碍您吗？”

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“一点儿也不。”我说，“我一天有大部分时间都在外面，而且如果你喜欢住在这里的话，我会感到很高兴。”

251
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他同意了。我问他，在伦敦短暂停留期间最想去看什么地方。他说想去看看哈默斯密斯区的金合欢路十九号，那是他父亲出生的地方。然后他想去看一次《缠人沼泽地》的现场演出。这个节目每次播出的时候，只要静电干扰不严重，他都会通过布里斯班的短波广播收听。（“爱丽丝有一个超棒的电台，”他充满渴望地说，“一个当地电台，就在镇上。”）他还想尽可能多见识良种马和良种牛。他对马具很感兴趣，但他不认为我们在这方面有什么可以教他的。

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去哈默斯密斯的事情当然没有什么困难。我当天下午送他上了一辆公共汽车，然后去办公室处理昨天被我忽略的工作。除了来访客户之外，我还有很多事情要考虑。琴·佩吉特见到这位男士时，是否会选择和他结婚，完全是她的私事，但很可能她会这么做。不管别人认为这样一对夫妇般配与否，都无法否认乔·哈曼具有一些非常可靠的优点。他似乎吃苦耐劳，也很节俭——如果不计他为寻找心爱的姑娘花费巨资飞越半个世界一事，并且很可能创造成功的人生。可以肯定的是，他的善良会使他成为一个好丈夫。

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这件事情还有另外一面值得调查。无论她本人知情与否，琴·佩吉特是有澳大利亚血统的。她从未向我提及祖父詹士·麦法登，她很可能根本不会想起他。然而，正是因为他，她才有这么一大笔遗产可以继承，并且显然这笔钱是在他回家参加约克郡的定点越野赛马，并摔断脖子之前，在澳大利亚挣来的。稍微增加一点对詹士·麦法登的了解将会相当有趣。他的丰厚身家是否也是通过经营内地的牛场赚来的？他是不是恰好就是另外一个乔·哈曼？

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那天下午，我让秘书给我找来麦法登的档案盒，在送走了最后一个客户后，我坐下来浏览了一遍里面的契据和遗嘱。我能找到的唯一线索就是詹士·麦法登在1903年9月18日立下的遗嘱，开头写道：“本人，詹士·尼尔森·麦法登，约克郡郊区柯比摩尔赛德镇罗德尔庄园，以及西澳大利亚霍尔斯克里克之主人，在此撤销此前一切遗嘱……”我当时对霍尔斯克里克一无所知，就先把这个名字记下来，用于进一步调查。当天的调查到此为止。

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接下来我给马库斯·费尔尼打电话。他正在英国广播公司的办公室里，我向他要一张《缠人沼泽地》的票。为了得到这张票，我不得不把乔·哈曼的事迹告诉他，因为它们似乎非常抢手。他马上回复要求乔·哈曼接受《城中一夜》节目的采访，我说我会见到乔并转告此消息，他便答应把票送过来。然后我继续打电话给老丹尼斯·弗兰普顿，他在汤顿附近有自己的牛场，养殖赫里福种食用纯种牛。我把乔·哈曼的愿望告诉他，他非常和蔼地邀请乔去他那里住几个晚上。

256
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我大约七点回到公寓时，乔已经在那儿了。我之前安排好在公寓吃晚饭。他去过银行和旅馆，并把手提箱拿来了，放在空房间里。我问他是否找到了他父亲在哈默斯密斯的房子。

257
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“我找到它了，”他说，“哦，老天。我找着了。”

258
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“很糟糕吗？”

259
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他咧嘴一笑。“‘糟糕’一词不足以形容它。我们在澳大利亚也有一些贫民窟，但没见过那么破陋的。老爸离开那里，千里迢迢跑到昆士兰，实在是再正确不过的选择了。”

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我问他要不要喝一杯雪利酒，但他想喝啤酒。我去给他找来一瓶。“你父亲是什么时候离开这个国家的？”我问道。

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“1904年，”他说，“他去了克朗克里的科布马车公司。那公司在汽车引进之前是经营公共马车的。他那时候肯定有十五岁了。一战时他和澳洲人在加利波利打仗。”

262
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“他已经去世了，是不是？”

263
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“是，”他说，“他是1940年过世的，在我参军后不久。”他顿了顿，“我妈还在。她和我姐姐艾米一起住在克朗克里。”

264
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“请告诉我，”我说，“你知道一个叫作霍尔斯克里克的地方吗？”

265
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“产黄金的地方？在西澳大利亚的温德姆那边？”

266
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“就是那里。”我说，“那里有金矿，是不是？”

267
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“我想人们现在不去那里淘金了。”他说，“十九世纪时那里遍地都是黄金，就像海湾地区的昆士兰一样。我从来没有去过霍尔斯克里克，但我总觉得它有点像克洛伊登。克洛伊登有很多黄金，哦，老天。淘金热持续了大概十年，后来他们就必须挖下去很深才能找到金子，那样就无利可图了。听他们说克洛伊登一度有三万居民。现在只有两百人。在诺曼顿和伯克敦也一样——威尔斯镇也一样。它们都曾是黄金城。”

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“你从未听说过有叫麦法登的人住在霍尔斯克里克吧？”

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他摇摇头。“我没有听过这个名字。”

270
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我告诉他，我拿到一张今晚《缠人沼泽地》的票，以及电台想请他周六晚上接受现场采访。他犹豫一番后同意了去录节目。我按时收听了这期节目，觉得他表现得出奇地好。主持人很有技巧地引导他说话，他说了大约六七分钟，内容关于米德赫斯特牛场，还有卡奔塔利亚湾南面的乡下地区，他把它叫作海湾地区。马库斯·费尔尼第二天亲自费心给我打来电话，告诉我这期节目实在是太成功了。“我现在真希望能找到更多像他这样的小伙子，时不时请他们上节目，”他说，“他们录节目的风格跟大人物完全不一样。”

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周日，我送他上火车，南下汤顿见识丹尼斯·弗兰普顿先生饲养的牛。他留在英国的时间不多了，因为肖·萨维尔公司有一趟下周五早晨离港去新西兰和澳大利亚的航班，我设法为他预订了一个便宜的舱位。他周三回来时，满口都是在汤顿看到的新鲜事物。“他那里的牛太棒了，哦，老天，”他说，“在那里的两天，我所学到的牲口质量改良技术，比我在海湾地区十年学到的还要多。当然了，他的做法在米德赫斯特那样的牛场无法实现，但确实有很多值得思考的地方。”

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“你是指育种吗？”

273
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“在海湾地区，我们压根不研究品种改良，”他说，“不像在英国。我们只是四处走，看到矮小的牛就射死，留下最好的种牛繁殖后代。我很希望能在海湾地区看到一个纯种牛群，像他的牛群那样的。那么好的牲口，我只在电视上见到过。”

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晚饭后，我跟他谈起佩吉特小姐。“我将会在一到两天后写信给她，告诉她你的地址，”我说，“我知道她会因为错失与你见面的机会而倍感惋惜。相信等你回到米德赫斯特时，就会发现她写给你的信已经寄到了。实际上，我很确定那时信已寄到，因为我将会寄航空邮件，她肯定也会给你寄航空邮件。”

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想到能收到她的信，他喜不自胜。“我想我不会从这里给她写信。”他说，“如果您要给她写信，我会耐心等待，等我收到她的信后再写回信。在某种意义上，我很高兴没有在这里见到她。很可能这就是上天的安排，到最后一切都会圆满收场。”

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我几乎脱口而出她身在澳大利亚的消息，但还是忍住了。乔·哈曼找来我办公室的前一天，我写了一封信到爱丽丝斯普林斯给她，现在每天都在等回信，因为她习惯每周给我写一封信，非常有规律。如果有必要的话，我可以给她打电报，把他的地址告诉她，这样她就不会一无所获地离开澳大利亚，但也没有理由在这个阶段就把她所有事情都告诉他。

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两天后，我到码头送别他，就像几个月前送别琴一样。当我转身要走下舷梯的时候，他语气生硬地对我说：“谢谢您为我做了这么多事情，斯特拉坎先生。我会在米德赫斯特给您写信。”他和我握手。那紧紧的一握，瞬间让我想起他所受过的种种伤害，使我不寒而栗。

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我转身走下舷梯。“不要客气，乔。你到家时就会收到佩吉特小姐的信。甚至可能会有更大的收获。”

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我最后那句话并非无中生有，因为在我口袋里有一封她写来的信，是昨天寄到的，上面盖着威尔斯镇的邮戳。

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In Kuantan, in the evening of that day in July 1942, a sergeant had come to Captain Sugamo in the District Commissioner’s house, and had reported that the Australian was still alive. Captain Sugamo found this curious and interesting, and as there was still half an hour before his evening rice, he strolled down to the recreation ground to have a look.

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The body still hung by its hands, facing the tree. Blood had drained from the blackened mess that was its back and had run down the legs to form a black pool on the ground, now dried and oxidized by the hot sun. A great mass of flies covered the body and the blood. But the man undoubtedly was still alive; when Captain Sugamo approached the face the eyes opened, and looked at him with recognition.

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It is doubtful if the West can ever fully understand the working of a Japanese mind. When Captain Sugamo saw that the Australian recognized him from the threshold of death, he bowed reverently to the torn body, and he said with complete sincerity,“Is there anything that I can get for you before you die?”

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The ringer said distinctly,“You bloody bastard. I’ll have one of your black chickens and a bottle of beer.”

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Captain Sugamo stood looking at the wreck of the man nailed to the tree, and his face was completely expressionless. Presently he turned upon his heel and went back to his house. He called for his orderly as he went into the shade, and he told him to fetch a bottle of beer and a glass, but not to open the bottle.

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The man protested that there was no beer. Captain Sugamo already knew that, but he sent his orderly to the town to visit all the Chinese eating-houses to see if he could find a bottle of beer anywhere in Kuantan. In an hour the man came back; Captain Sugamo was sitting in exactly the same attitude as when he had gone out to find the beer. With considerable apprehension he informed his officer that there was no beer in all Kuantan. He was dismissed, and went away gladly.

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Death to Captain Sugamo was a ritual. There had been an element of holiness in his approach to the Australian, and having offered in the hearing of his men to implement the last wishes of his victim he was personally dedicated to see that those last wishes were provided. If a bottle of beer had been available he would have sacrificed one of his remaining black Leghorns and sent the cooked meat and the beer down to the dying body on the tree; he might even have carried the tray down himself. By doing so he would have set an example of chivalry and Bushido to the troops under his command. Unfortunately, it was impossible for him to provide the bottle of beer, and since the beer was missing and the soldier’s dying wish could not be met in full, there was no point in sacrificing one of the remaining black Leghorns. He could not carry out his own part in the ritual; he could not show Bushido by granting the man’s dying wish. Therefore, the Australian could not be allowed to die, or he himself would be disgraced.

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He called for his sergeant. When the man came, he ordered him to take a party with a stretcher to the recreation ground. They were to pull the nails out and take the man down from the tree without injuring him any further, and put him face downwards on the stretcher, and take him to the hospital.

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To Jean, the news that the Australian was still alive came like the opening of a door. She slipped away and went and sat in the shade of a casuarina tree at the head of the beach to consider this incredible fact. The sun glinted on the surf and the beach was so white, the sea so blue, that it was almost ecstasy to look at them. She felt as if she had suddenly come out of a dark tunnel that she had walked down for six years. She tried to pray, but she had never been religious and she didn’t know how to put what she was feeling into a prayer. The best she could do was to recollect the words of a prayer that they had used at school sometimes.“Lighten our darkness, oh Lord, and of Thy great mercy...”That was all she could remember, and she repeated it over and over to herself that afternoon. Her darkness had been lightened by the well-diggers.

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She went back that evening and spoke to Suleiman again about the matter, but neither he nor his sons could supply much further information. The Australian had been in the hospital at Kuantan for a long time, but how long they did not know. Yacob said that he had been there for a year, but she soon found that he only meant a very long time. Hussein said three months, and Suleiman did not know how long he had been there, but said that he was sent down on a ship to Singapore to a prison camp, and he was then walking with two sticks. She could not find out from them when that was.

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So she had to leave it, and she stayed on in Kuala Telang till the well and washhouse were completed. She had already started the carpenters upon the washhouse after long consultations with the elder women, and the concrete work was now completed in the shuttering, and drying out. On the day that water was reached at the bottom of the well the carpenters began to erect the posts for the atap house, and the well and the house were finished about the same time. Two days were spent in baling out the muddy water from the well till it ran clean, and then they had an opening ceremony when Jean washed her own sarong and all the women crowded into the washhouse laughing, and the men stood round in a tolerant circle at a distance, wondering if they had been quite wise to allow anything that made the women laugh so much.

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On the next day she sent a telegram by runner to Kuala Rakit to be dispatched to Wilson-Hays asking him to send the jeep for her, and a day or two later it arrived. She left in a flurry of shy good wishes with some moisture in her eyes; she was going back to her own place and her own people, but she was leaving three years of her life behind her, and that is never a very easy thing to do.

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She got back to the Residency at Kota Bahru after dark that night, too tired to eat. Mrs Wilson-Hays sent her up a cup of tea and a little fruit to her bedroom, and she had a long, warm bath, putting off her native clothes for the last time. She lay on the bed in the cool, spacious room under the mosquito net, rested and growing sleepy, and what she thought about was Ringer Harman, and the red country he had told her of round Alice Springs, and euros, and wild horses.

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She walked with Wilson-Hays in the garden of the Residency next morning after breakfast in the cool of the day. She told him what she had done in Kuala Telang; he asked her where she had got the idea of the washhouse from.“It’s obvious that’s what they need,”she said.“Women don’t like washing their clothes in public, especially Moslem women.”

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He thought about it for a minute.“You’ve probably started something,”he remarked at last.“Every village will want one now. Where did you get the plan of it—the arrangement of the sinks and all that sort of thing?”

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“We worked it out ourselves,”she said.“They knew what they wanted all right.”

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They strolled along by the river, brown and muddy and half a mile wide, running its way down to the sea. As they walked she told him about the Australian, because she could talk freely about that now. She told him what had happened.“His name was Joe Harman,”she said,“and he came from a place near Alice Springs. I would like to get in touch with him again. Do you think I could find out anything about him in Singapore?”

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He shook his head.“I shouldn’t think so, not now that SEAC is disbanded. I shouldn’t think there’s any record of prisoners of war in Singapore now.”

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“How would one find out about him, then?”

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“You say he was an Australian?”

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She nodded.

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“I think you’d have to write to Canberra,”he said.“They ought to have a record of all prisoners there. I suppose you don’t happen to know his unit?”

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She shook her head.“I’m afraid I don’t.”

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“That might make it difficult, of course—there may be several Joe Harmans. I should start off by writing to the Minister for the Army—that’s what they call him, the head of the War Office. Just address your letter to the Minister for the Army, Canberra, Australia. Something might come of that. What you want is an address where you could write to him, I suppose?”

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Jean stared across the river at the rubber trees and coconut palms.“I suppose so. As a matter of fact, I’ve got an address of a sort. He used to work before the war on a cattle station called Wollara, near a place called Alice Springs. He said that they were keeping his job open for him there.”

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“If you’ve got that address,”he observed,“I should write there. You’re much more likely to find him that way than by writing to Canberra.”

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“I might do that,”she said slowly.“I would like to see him again. You see, it was because of us that it all happened...”

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It had been her intention to go back to Singapore and wait there for a boat to England; if she had to wait long for a cheap passage she intended to try and find a job for a few weeks or months. Malayan Airways called at Koto Bahru next day, and the Dakota landed at Kuantan on the way down to Singapore. She spoke to Wilson-Hays again that evening after dinner.

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“Do you think there would be a hotel or anything at Kuantan if I stopped there for a day?”she asked.

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He looked at her kindly.“Do you want to go back there?”he asked.

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“I think I do,”she said.“I’d like to go and see the people at the hospital and find out what I can.”

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He said,“You’d better stay with David and Joyce Bowen. Bowen is the District Commissioner; he’d be glad to put you up.”

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“I don’t want to be a nuisance to people,”she said.“Isn’t there a resthouse that I could stay in? After all, I know this country fairly well.”

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“That’s why Bowen would like to meet you,”he remarked.“You must realize that you’re quite a well-known person in these parts. He would be very disappointed if you stayed at the resthouse.”

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She looked at him in wonder.“Do people think of me like that? I only did what anybody could have done.”

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“That’s as it may be,”he replied.“The fact is, that you did it.”

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She flew on down to Kuantan next day. Someone must have told the crew of the aircraft about her, because the Malay stewardess came to her after half an hour and said,“We’re just coming up to Kuala Telang, Miss Paget. Captain Philby wants to know if you would care to come forward to the cockpit and see it.”So she went forward through the door and stood between the pilots; they brought the Dakota down to about seven hundred feet and circled the village; she could see the well and the new atap roof of the washhouse, and she could see people standing gazing up at the machine. Fatimah and Zubeidah and Mat Amin. Then they straightened up and flew on down the coast, and Kuala Telang was left behind.

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The Bowens met her at the airstrip, which is ten miles from the town of Kuantan; Wilson-Hays had sent them a signal that morning. They were a friendly, unsophisticated couple, and she had no difficulty in telling them a little about the Australian soldier who had been tortured when they were sitting in the DC’s house, where Captain Sugamo had sat so often, over a cup of tea. They said that Sister Frost was now in charge of the hospital, but it was doubtful if there was anybody now upon the staff who was there in 1942. They drove down after tea to see Sister Frost.

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She received them in the matron’s room, very hygienic and smelling strongly of disinfectant. She was an Englishwoman about forty years of age.“There’s nobody here now who was on the staff then,”she said.“Nurses in a place like this—they’re always leaving to get married. We never seem to keep them longer than about two years. I don’t know what to suggest.”

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Bowen said,“What about Phyllis Williams? She was a nurse here, wasn’t she?”

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“Oh, her,”the sister said disparagingly.“She was here for the first part of the war until she married that man. She might know something about it.”

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They left the hospital, and as they drove to find Phyllis Williams Mrs Bowen enlightened Jean.“She’s a Eurasian,”she said.“Very dark, almost as dark as a Malay. She married a Chinese, a man called Bun Tai Lin who runs the cinema. What you’d call a mixed marriage, but they seem to get along all right. She’s a Roman Catholic, of course.”Jean never fathomed the“of course”.

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The Bun Tai Lins lived in a rickety wooden house up the hill overlooking the harbour. They could not get the car to the house, but left it in the road and walked up a short lane littered with garbage. They found Phyllis Williams at home, a merry-faced, brown woman with four children around her and evidently about to produce a fifth. She was glad to see them and took them into a shabby room, the chief decorations of which were a set of pewter beer-mugs and a large oleograph of the King and Queen in coronation robes.

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She spoke very good English.“Oh yes, I remember that poor boy,”she said.“Joe Harman, that was his name. I nursed him for three or four months—he was in a state when he came in. We none of us thought he’d live. But he got over it. He must have led a very healthy life, because his flesh healed wonderfully. He said that he was like a dog, he healed so well.”

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She turned to Jean.“Are you the lady that was leading the party of women and children from Panong?”she asked.“I thought you must be. Fancy you coming here again! You know, he was always wanting to know about you and your party, if anybody knew the way you’d gone. And of course, we didn’t know, and with that Captain Sugamo in the mood he was nobody was going to go round asking questions to find out.”

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She turned to Jean.“I forget your name?”

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“Paget. Jean Paget.”

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The Eurasian looked puzzled.“That wasn’t it. I wonder now, was he talking about someone different? I can’t remember now what he called her, but it wasn’t that. I thought it would have been you.”

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“Mrs Frith?”

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She shook her head.“I’ll remember presently.”

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She could not tell them very much more than Jean knew already. The Australian had been sent down to a prison camp in Singapore as soon as he was fit to travel; they heard no more of him. They thought that he would make a good recovery in the end, though it would be years before the muscles of his back got back their strength if, indeed, they ever would. She knew no more than that.

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They left presently, and went down the garbage-strewn lane towards the car. When they were nearly at the bottom the woman called to them from the veranda.“I just remembered that name. Mrs Boong. That’s who he was always talking about, Mrs Boong. Was that one of your party?”

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Jean laughed, and called back to her,“That’s what he used to call me!”

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The woman was satisfied.“I thought it must have been you that he was always talking about.”

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On the way back to the DC’s house in the car, they passed the recreation ground. There were tennis nets rigged and one or two couples playing; there was a white young man playing a brown girl. The tree still stood overlooking the courts, and underneath it a couple of Malay women sat exactly where the feet of the tortured man had hung, on ground that had been soaked in blood, and gossiped while their children played around. It all looked very peaceful in the evening light.

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Jean spent that night with the Bowens, and went on to Singapore next day in the Dakota. Wilson-Hays had advised her about hotels, and she stayed at the Adelphi opposite the Cathedral.

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She wrote to me from there a couple of days later. It was a long letter, about eight pages long, written in ink smudged a little with the sweat that had formed on her hand as she wrote in that humid place. First she told me what had happened in Kuala Telang; she told me about the well-diggers and that Joe Harman was still alive. And then she went on,

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I’ve been puzzling over what I could do to get in touch with him again. You see, it was all because of us that it happened. He stole the chickens for us, and he must have known the sort of man that Captain Sugamo was, and the risk that he was taking. I must find out where he is living now, and if he’s all right; I can’t believe that he can be able to work as a stockrider after having been so terribly injured. I think he was a man who’d always fall upon his feet somehow or other if he was well enough, but I can’t bear the thought that he might be still in hospital, perhaps, and likely to stay there for ever with his injuries.

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I did think of writing to him at this place Wollara that he

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told me about, the cattle station that he worked on, somewhere near Alice Springs. But thinking it over, if he can’t work he can’t be there, and I don’t suppose I’d ever get an answer to a letter from a place like that, or not for ages, anyway. I thought of writing to Canberra to try and find out something, but that’s almost as bad. And this brings me to what I wanted to tell you when I started this letter, Noel, and I hope it won’t be too much of a shock. I’m going on to Australia from here.

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Don’t think me absolutely crazy for doing this. The fare from here to Darwin costs sixty pounds by the Constellation, and you can get a bus from Darwin to Alice Springs; it takes two or three days but it ought to be much cheaper than flying. After paying the hotel bill here I shall still have about a hundred and seven pounds, not counting next month’s money. I thought I’d go to Alice Springs and get to this place Wollara and find out about him there; someone in that district is bound to know what happened to him, and where he is now.

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There are some merchant service officers staying here, very nice young men, and they tell me I can get a cabin on a merchant ship back to England probably from Townsville, that’s on the east coast of Australia in Queensland, and if there isn’t a ship there I’d certainly get one at Brisbane. I’ve been talking to a man in the Chartered Bank here in Raffles Place who is very helpful, and I’ve arranged with him to transfer my next month’s money to the Bank of New South Wales in Alice Springs, and so I’ll have money to get me across to Townsville or Brisbane. Write to me care of the Bank of New South Wales in Alice Springs, because I know I’m going to feel a long way from home when I get there.

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I’m leaving here on Thursday by the Constellation, so I’ll be in Australia somewhere by the time you get this letter. I have a feeling that I’m being a terrible nuisance to you, Noel, but I’ll have an awful lot to tell you when I get back home. I don’t think the trip home from Townsville or Brisbane can take longer than three months at the outside, so I shall be home in England in time for Christmas at the very latest.

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I sat there reading and re-reading this, bitterly disappointed. I had been making plans for entertainments for her when she came back, I suppose—in fact, I know I had been. Old men who lead a somewhat empty life get rather stupid over things like that. Lester Robinson came into my office with a sheaf of papers in his hand as I was reading her letter for the third time; I laid the letter down.“My Paget girl,”I said.“You know—that Macfadden estate that we’re trustees for. She’s not coming home after all. She’s gone on from Malaya to Australia.”

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He glanced at me, and I suppose the disappointment that I felt showed in my face, because he said gently,“I told you she was old enough to make a packet of trouble for us.”I looked up at him quickly to see what he meant by that, but he began talking about an unadopted road in Colchester, and the moment passed.

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I went on with my work, but the black mood persisted and it was with me when I reached the club that night. I settled down after dinner in the library with a volume of Horace because I thought the mental exercise required to read the Latin would take my mind off things and put me in a better frame of mind. But I had forgotten my Horace, I suppose, because a phrase I had not read or thought about for forty years suddenly stared up at me from the page and brought me up with a round turn,

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—Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo,

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Dulce loquentem.

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It had been a part of my youth, that phrase, as I suppose it is a part of the youth of many young men who have been in love. I could not bear to go on reading Horace after that, and I sat thinking of sweetly smiling, soft-spoken Lalage on her way to Alice Springs in a long-distance bus, until I broke away from morbid fancies and got up and put the book back on the shelf.

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It must have been about a week after that that Derek Harris came into my room as the client went out. Derek is one of our two articled clerks, and one day I expect to make him a partner; a pleasant fresh-faced lad. He said,“Could you spare a few minutes for a stranger, sir?”

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“What sort of stranger?”I inquired.

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He said,“A man called Harman. He came about an hour ago without any appointment and asked to see you. Sergeant Gunning asked if I would see him as you were engaged, and I had a talk with him, but it’s you that he wants to see. I understand that it’s something to do with Miss Paget.”

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I knew now where I had heard that name before, but it was quite incredible. I asked,“What sort of a man is he?”

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He grinned broadly.“Some sort of a colonial, I should think. Probably Australian. He’s an outdoor type, anyway.”

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“Is he a reasonable person?”

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“Oh, I think so, sir. He’s some sort of a countryman, I should say.”

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It was all beginning to fit in, and yet it was incredible that an Australian stockman should have found his way to my office in Chancery Lane.“Is his name Joseph, by any chance?”I asked.

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“You know him, do you, sir? Joe Harman. Shall I ask him to come up?”

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I nodded.“I’ll see him now.”Harris went down to fetch him, and I stood by my window looking out into the grey street, wondering what this visit meant and how it had come about, and how much of my client’s business could I tell this man.

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Harris showed him in, and I turned from the window to meet him.

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He was a fair-haired man, about five feet ten in height. He was thickset but not fat; I judged him to be between thirty and thirty-five years old. His face was deeply tanned but his skin was clear; he had very bright blue eyes. He was not a handsome man; his face was too square and positive for that, but it was a simple and good natured face. He walked towards me with a curious stiff gait.

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I shook hands with him.“Mr Harman?”I said.“My name is Strachan. Do you want to see me?”And as I spoke I was unable to resist the temptation to look down at his hand. There was a huge scar on the back of it.

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He said a little awkwardly,“I don’t want to keep you long.”He was ill at ease and obviously embarrassed.

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“Not at all,”I said.“Sit down, Mr Harman, and tell me what I can do for you.”I put him in the client’s chair before my desk and gave him a cigarette. He pulled from his pocket a tin box of wax matches of a style that was strange to me, and cracked one expertly with his thumbnail without burning himself. He was wearing a very ready-made suit, quite new, and an unusually ornamental tie for London wear.

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“I was wondering if you could tell me about Miss Jean Paget,”he said.“Where she lives, or anything like that.”

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I smiled.“Miss Paget is a client of mine, Mr Harman,”I said.“You evidently know that. But a client’s business is entirely confidential, you know. Are you a friend of hers?”

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The question seemed to embarrass him still further.“Sort of,”he replied.“We met once in the war, in Malaya that was. I’ll have to tell you who I am, of course. I’m a Queenslander. I run a station in the Gulf country, about twenty miles from Willstown.”He spoke very slowly and deliberately, not from embarrassment but because that seemed to be his way.“I mean the homestead is twenty miles from the town, but one limb of the land runs down the creek to within five miles. Midhurst, that’s the name of my station. Midhurst, Willstown, is the address.”

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I made a note upon my pad, and smiled at him again.“You’re a long way from home, Mr Harman,”I said.

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“Too right,”he replied.“I don’t know nobody in England except Miss Paget and a cobber I met in the prison camp who lives at a place called Gateshead in the north of England. I came here for a holiday, you might say, and I thought perhaps Miss Paget might be glad to know that I’m in England, but I don’t know her address.”

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“Rather a long way to come for a holiday?”I observed.

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He smiled a little sheepishly.“I struck it lucky. I won the Casket.”

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“The Casket?”

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“The Golden Casket. Don’t you have that here?”

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I shook my head.“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of it.”

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“Oh my word,”he said.“We couldn’t get along without the Casket in Queensland. It’s the State lottery that gets the money to build hospitals.”

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“I see,”I said.“Did you win a prize in the lottery?”

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“Oh my word,”he repeated.“Did I win a prize. I won a thousand pounds—not English pounds, of course, Australian pounds, but it’s a thousand pounds to us. I always take a ticket in every Casket like everybody else because if you don’t get a prize you get a hospital and there’s times when that’s more useful. You ought to see the hospital the Casket built at Willstown. Three wards it’s got, with two beds in each, and two rooms for the sisters, and a separate house for the doctor only we can’t get a doctor to come yet because Willstown’s a bit isolated, you see. We’ve got an X-ray apparatus there and a wireless so that the sister can call for the Cairns Ambulance—the aeroplane, you know. We couldn’t do without the Casket.”

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I must say I was a little bit interested.“Does the Casket pay for the aeroplane, too?”

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He shook his head.“You pay seven pounds ten a year to the Cairns Ambulance, each family, that is. Then if you get sick and have to go to Cairns the sister calls Cairns on the wireless and the aeroplane comes out to take you into Cairns to hospital. That’s free, provided that you pay the seven pounds ten each year.”

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“How far are you from Cairns?”

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“About three hundred miles.”

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I reverted to the business in hand.“Tell me, Mr Harman,”I said,“how did you get to know that I was Miss Paget’s solicitor?”

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“She told me in Malaya when we met, she lived in Southampton,”he said.“I didn’t know any address, so I went there and stayed in a hotel, because I thought maybe she’d like to know I was in England. I never saw a city that had been bombed before—oh my word. Well, then I looked in the telephone book and asked a lot of people but I couldn’t find out nothing except she had an aunt that lived in Wales at a place called Colwyn Bay. So then I went to Colwyn Bay.”

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“You went right up there, did you?”

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He nodded.“I think her aunt thought I was up to some crook game or other,”he said simply.“She wouldn’t tell me where she lived or anything. All she said was that you were her trustee, whatever that means. So I came here.”

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“When did you arrive in England?”I asked.

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“Last Thursday. Five days ago.”

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“You landed at Southampton, did you?”

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He shook his head.“I flew from Australia, by Qantas. You see, I got a good stockman looking after Midhurst for me, but I can’t afford to be away so long. Jim Lennon’s all right for a time, but I wouldn’t want to be away from Midhurst more’n three months. You see, this is a slack time in the Gulf country. We mustered in March this year on account of the late season and drove the stock down Julia Creek in April—that’s railhead, you know. I had about fourteen hundred stores I sold down to Rockhampton for fattening. Well, after getting them on rail I had to get back up to Midhurst on account of the bore crew. I got Mrs Spears—she’s the owner of Midhurst—I got her to agree we sink a bore at Willow Creek, that’s about twenty miles south-east of the homestead, to get water down at that end in the dry, and we got a bonza bore, we did. She’s flowing over thirty thousand gallons a day; it’s going to make a lot of difference down at that end. Well, that took up to about three weeks ago before I got that finished up, and I must be back at Midhurst by the end of October for getting in the stores and that before the wet begins at Christmas. So I thought that coming on this holiday I’d better fly.”

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Flying to England, I thought, must have made a considerable hole in his thousand pounds.“You came to London, then, and went straight down to Southampton?”

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“That’s right,”he said.

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“And from there you went up to North Wales. And from there you came here?”

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“That’s right.”

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I looked him in the eyes, and smiled.“You must want to see Miss Paget very much.”

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He met my gaze.“I do.”

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I leaned back in my chair.“I’ve got a disappointment for you, I’m afraid, Mr Harman. Miss Paget is abroad.”

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He stared down at his hat for a moment. Then he raised his head.“Is she far away?”he asked.“I mean, is it France or anything like that, where I could get to see her?”

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I shook my head.“She’s travelling in the East.”

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He said quietly,“I see.”

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I couldn’t help liking and respecting this man. It was perfectly obvious that he had come twelve thousand miles or so to find Jean Paget, and now he wasn’t going to find her. It was bad luck, to say the least of it, and he was taking it well. I felt that I wanted a little time to consider this affair.

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“The most that I can do for you,”I said,“is to forward a letter. I can do that, if you care to write one, and I’ll send it to her by air mail. But I’m afraid that you may have to wait a month or so before you get an answer.”

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He brightened.“I’d like to do that. I never thought that after coming all this way I’d find that she’d gone walkabout.”

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He thought for a minute.“What address should I put upon the letter?”

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“I can’t give you my client’s address, Mr Harman,”I said.“What I suggest that you do is to write her a letter and bring it in to me here tomorrow morning. I will send it on with a short covering note explaining how it came into my hands. Then if she wants to see you she will get in touch with you herself.”

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“You don’t think she’ll want to see me?”he said heavily.

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I smiled.“I didn’t say anything of the sort, Mr Harman. I’m quite sure that when she hears you’ve been in England looking for her she will write to you. What I’m saying is that I have her interests to consider, and I’m not going to give her address to anyone who comes into this office and cares to ask for it.”I paused.“There’s one thing that you’d better know,”I said.“Miss Paget is a fairly wealthy woman. Women who have command of a good deal of money are apt to be troubled by touts. I’m not saying that you’re a tout or that you’re after her money. I am saying that you must write to her first of all, and then let her decide if she wants to meet you. If you’re a friend of hers you’ll see that that’s reasonable.”

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He stared at me.“I never knew that she had money. She told me she was just a typist in an office.”

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“That’s quite true,”I said.“She inherited some money recently.”

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He was silent.

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“Suppose you come back tomorrow morning, Mr Harman,”I said. I glanced at my engagement diary.“Say, twelve o’clock tomorrow morning. Write her a letter saying whatever it is you want to say, and bring it here then. I will forward it to her tomorrow evening.”

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“All right,”he said. He got up and I got up with him.“Where are you staying, Mr Harman?”I asked.

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“At the Kingsway Palace Hotel.”

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“All right, Mr Harman,”I said.“I shall expect you tomorrow morning, at twelve o’clock.”

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I spent most of that evening wondering if I had done the right thing in refusing Mr Harman the address. I thought ruefully that Jean would have been very angry if she had known I had done such a thing, especially when she was looking for him all over Australia. At the same time, what I had done would not delay a letter from him reaching her, and there was no sense in putting all her cards upon the table for him to see just at present. One thing that puzzled me a little was, why had he suddenly awoken to the fact that he wanted to meet Jean Paget again, after six years? A question or two upon that point seemed to be in order, and I prepared a small interrogation for him when he came to see me with his letter.

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Twelve o’clock next morning came, and he didn’t turn up for his appointment. I waited in for him till one o’clock, and then I went to lunch.

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By three o’clock I was a little bit concerned. The initiative had passed into his hands. If he should vanish into thin air now and never come back to see me again, Jean Paget would be very cross with me, and rightly so. Between clients I put in a telephone call to the Kingsway Palace Hotel and asked to speak to Mr Joseph Harman. The answer was that Mr Harman had gone out after breakfast, and had left no message at the desk. I left one for him, asking him to ring me as soon as he came in.

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He did not ring that day.

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At half past ten that night I rang the hotel again, but I was told that Mr Harman was not in.

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At eight o’clock next morning I rang again. They told me that Mr Harman had not checked out and his luggage was still in his room, but that he had not slept in the room that night.

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As soon as I got into the office I sent for Derek Harris.“Harris,”I said.“I want you to try and find that man Harman. He’s an Australian.”I told him briefly what had happened.“I should try the hotel again, and if you draw a blank, ring round the various police courts. I think I may have given him some rather unwelcome news, and it’s quite possible he’s been out on a blind.”

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He came back in a quarter of an hour.“You must have second sight, sir,”he said.“He’s coming up at Bow Street this morning, drunk and disorderly. They had him in the cooler for the night.”

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“He’s a friend of Miss Paget’s,”I said.“Get along down to Bow Street, Harris, and make yourself known to him. Which court is he coming up in?”

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“Mr Horler’s.”

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I glanced at my watch.“Get along down there right away. Stay with Harman and pay the fine if he hasn’t got any money. Then give me a ring, and if it’s all in order take him in a taxi to my flat. I’ll meet you there.”

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There was nothing on my desk that day that could not be postponed or handled by Lester. I got back to my flat in time to catch my charwoman at work and tell her to make up the spare room bed. I told her I should want food in the flat for three or four meals, and I gave her money and sent her out to buy whatever food she could get off the ration.

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Harris arrived with Harman half an hour later, and the Australian looked a little bit the worse for wear. He was cheerful and sober after his night in the cells, but he had lost one shoe and he had lost his collar stud and his hat. I met him in the hall.“Morning, Mr Harman,”I said.“I thought perhaps you’d rather come round here and clean up. You’d better not go back to the hotel looking like that.”

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He looked me in the eyes.“I’ve been on the grog,”he said.

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“So I see. The water’s hot for a bath if you want one, and there’s a razor in the bathroom.”I took him and showed him the geography of the house.“You can use this room.”I looked him up and down, smiling.“I’ll get you a clean shirt and collar. You can try a pair of my shoes; if they’re too small I’ll send out for a pair.”

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He wagged his head.“I dunno why you want to do this for me. I’ll be all right.”

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“You’ll be righter when you’ve had a bath and a shave,”I said.“Miss Paget would never forgive me if I let a friend of hers go wandering about the streets like that.”

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He looked at me curiously, but I left him and went back to the sitting-room. Harris was waiting for me there.“Thanks, Derek,”I said.“There was a fine, I suppose?”

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“Forty shillings,”he said.“I paid it.”

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I gave him the money.“He was cleaned out?”

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“He’s got four and fourpence halfpenny,”he replied.“He thinks he had about seventy pounds, but he’s not sure.”

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“It doesn’t seem to worry him,”I said.

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He laughed.“I don’t think it does. He seems quite cheerful over it.”

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I sent Harris back to the office and settled down to write a few letters while Harman was in the bath. He came into the sitting-room presently looking a bit sheepish, and again I noticed the curious, stiff gait with which he walked.“I dunno what to say,”he said in his slow way.“Those jokers I was with got all the money I had on me so Mr Harris had to pay the fine. But I got some more. I got a thing called a letter of credit that the bank in Brisbane gave me. I can get some money on that and pay him back.”

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“That’s all right,”I said.“Have you had any breakfast?”

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“No.”

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“Want any?”

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“Well, I dunno. Maybe I’ll get something round at the hotel.”

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“You don’t have to do that,”I said.“My woman’s here still; she’ll get you some breakfast.”I went out and organized this, and then I came back and found him standing by the window.“You didn’t come back with that letter,”I observed.

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“I changed my mind,”he said.“I’m going to give it away.”

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“Give it away?”

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“That’s right,”he said.“I won’t be writing any letter.”

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“That’s seems rather a pity,”I said quietly.

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“Maybe. I had a good long think about it, and I won’t be writing any letter. I decided that. That’s why 1 didn’t come back at the time you said.”

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“As you like,”I said.“Perhaps you’d like to tell me a bit more about it when you’ve had some breakfast.”

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I left him to his breakfast and went on with my letters. My woman took it to the dining-room and he went in there to eat it; a quarter of an hour later he came back to me in the sitting-room.

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“I’d better be getting along now,”he said awkwardly.“Will it be all right if I come round later in the day and leave these shoes with the woman?”

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I got up and offered him a cigarette.“Will you tell me a bit more about yourself before you go?”I asked.“You see, I shall be writing to Miss Paget in a day or two, and she’s sure to want to know all about you.”

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He stared at me, cigarette in hand.“You’re going to write and tell her I’ve been here?”

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“Of course.”

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He stood silent for a moment, and then said in his slow Queensland way,“It would be better to forget about it, Mr Strachan. Just don’t say nothing at all.”

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I struck a match and lit his cigarette for him.“Is this because I told you about her inheritance?”

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“You mean, the money?”

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“Yes.”

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He grinned.“I wouldn’t mind about her having money, same as any man. No, it’s Willstown.”

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That was rather less intelligible than Greek to me, of course. I said,“Look, Joe, it won’t hurt you to sit down for a few minutes and tell me one or two things.”I called him Joe because I thought that it might make him loosen up.

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“I dunno as there’s much to tell,”he said sheepishly.

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“Sit down, anyway.”I thought for a moment, and then I said,“I’m right in thinking that you met Miss Paget first in the war?”

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“That’s right,”he said.

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“That was in Malaya, when you were both prisoners?”

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“That’s right.”

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“Some time in 1942?”

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“That’s right.”

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“And you’ve never met her since, nor written to her?”

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“That’s right.”

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“Well, what I don’t understand is this,”I said.“Why do you want to meet her now so very badly? After all, it’s six years since you met her. Why the sudden urge to get in touch with her now?”It was still vaguely in my mind that he had somehow heard about her money.

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He looked up at me, grinning.“I thought she was a married woman.”

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I stared at him.“I see.... When did you find out that she wasn’t married?”

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“I only found out that this May. I met the pilot that had flown her out from a place in Malaya called Kota Bahru. At Julia Creek, that was.”

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He had driven his fourteen hundred cattle down from Midhurst station to Julia Creek with Jim Lennon and two Abo stockriders to help. From Midhurst to Julia Creek is about three hundred miles by way of the Norman River, the Saxby River and the Flinders River. They left Midhurst at the end of March and got the herd to railhead at Julia Creek on the third of May, moving them at the rate of about ten miles a day. The beasts were corralled in the stockyards of the railway, and they set to work to load them into trains; this took about three days.

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During this time Jim and Joe lived in the Post Office Hotel at Julia Creek. It was very hot and they were working fourteen hours a day to load the cattle into trucks; whenever they were not working they were standing in the bar of the hotel drinking hugely at the cold Australian light beer that does no harm to people sweating freely at hard manual work. One evening while they were standing so two dapper men in uniform came into the bar and shouted a couple of rounds; these were the pilots of a Trans-Australia Airline Dakota which had stopped there for the night with an oil leak in the starboard engine.

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Harman found himself next to the chief pilot. Joe was wearing an old green linen sun hat that had once belonged to the American Army, a cotton singlet, a pair of dirty khaki shorts, and boots without socks; his appearance contrasted strangely with the neatness of the airman, but the pilot was accustomed to the outback. They fell into conversation about the war and soon discovered they had both served in Malaya. Joe showed the scars upon his hands and the pilots examined them with interest; he told them how he had been nailed up to be beaten, and they shouted another grog for him.

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“The funniest do I ever struck,”said the chief pilot presently,“was a party of women and children that never got into a prison camp at all. They spent most of the war in a Malay village working in the paddy fields.”

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Joe said quickly,“Where was that in Malaya? I met that party.”

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The pilot said,“It was somewhere between Kuantan and Kota Bahru. When we got back they were taken in trucks to Kota Bahru, and I flew them down to Singapore. All English, they were, but they looked just like Malays. All the women were in native clothes, and brown as anything.”

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Joe said,“Was there a Mrs Paget with them then?”It was vastly important to him to hear if Jean had survived the war.

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The pilot said,“There was a Miss Paget. She was a hell of a fine girl; she was their leader.”

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Joe said,“Mrs. A dark-haired girl, with a baby.”

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The pilot said,“That’s right—a dark-haired girl. She had a little boy about four years old that she was looking after, but it wasn’t hers. It belonged to one of the other women, one who died. I know that, because she was the only unmarried girl among the lot of them, and she was their leader. Just a typist in Kuala Lumpur before the war. Miss Jean Paget.”

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Joe stared at him.“I thought she was a married woman.”

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“She wasn’t married. I know she wasn’t, because the Japs had taken all their wedding rings so they had to be sorted out and that was quite easy, because they were all Mrs So and So except this one girl, and she was Miss Jean Paget.”

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“That’s right,”the ringer said slowly.“Jean was her name.”

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He left the bar Presently, and went out to the veranda and stood looking up at the stars. Presently he left the pub and strolled towards the stockyards; he found a gate to lean upon and stood there for a long time in the night, thinking things over. He told me a little about what he had been thinking, that morning in my London flat.

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“She was a bonza girl,”he said simply.“If ever I got married it would have to be with somebody like her.”

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I smiled.“I see,”I said.“That’s why you came to England?”

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“That’s right,”he said simply. He had ridden back with Jim Lennon and the Abo stockmen to Midhurst, a journey that took them about ten days, leading their string of fifteen packhorses; since they had started mustering on the station in February he had been in the saddle almost continuously for three months.“Then there was the bore to see to,”he said.“I’d made such a point of that with Mrs Spears that I couldn’t hardly leave before that was finished, but then I got away and I went into Cairns one Wednesday with John Duffy on the Milk Run”—I found out later that he meant the weekly Dakota air mail service—“and so down to Brisbane. And from Brisbane I came here.”

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“What about the Golden Casket?”I inquired.

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He said a little awkwardly,“I didn’t tell you right about that. I did win the Casket, but not this year. I won it in 1946, the year after I got back to Queensland. I won a thousand pounds then, like I said.”

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“I see,”I observed.“You hadn’t spent it?”

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He shook his head.“I was saving it, in case some day I got to have a station of my own, or do a deal with cattle, or something.”

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“How much do you think you’ve got left now?”

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He said,“There’s five hundred pounds of our money on the letter of credit, and I suppose that’s all I’ve got. Four hundred pounds of yours. There’s my pay as manager goes into the bank at Willstown each month, of course.”

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I sat smoking for a time in silence, and I couldn’t help being sorry for this man. Since he had met Jean Paget six years previously he had held the image of her in his mind hoping to find somebody a little like her. When he had heard that she was not a married woman he had drawn the whole of his small savings and hurried expensively half across the world to England, hoping to find her and to find that she was still unmarried. It was a gambler’s action, but his whole life had probably been made up of gambles; it could hardly be otherwise in the outback. Clearly he thought little of his money if it could buy a chance for him of marrying Jean Paget.

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It was ironical to think that she was at that moment busy looking for him in his own country. I did not feel that I was quite prepared to tell him that.

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“I still don’t understand why you’ve given up the idea of writing to Miss Paget,”I said at last.“You said something about Willstown.”

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“Yes.”There was a pause, and then he said in his slow way,“I thought a lot about things after I left you, Mr Strachan. Maybe I’d have done better to have done some thinking before ever I left Midhurst. I told you, I got none of them high-falutin ideas about not marrying a girl with money. So long as she was the right girl, I’d be tickled to death if she had money, same as any man. But there’s more to it than that.”

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He paused again.“I come from the outback,”he said slowly.“Running a cattle station is the only work I know, and it’s where I like to be. I couldn’t make out in any of the big cities, Brisbane or Sydney. I couldn’t make out even in Cairns for very long, and anyway, there’d be no work there I could do. I never got a lot of schooling, living on a station like we did. I don’t say that I won’t make money. I can run a station better’n most ringers, and I seem to do all right with selling the stock too. I’ll hope to get a station of my own one day, and there’s plenty of station owners finish up with fifty thousand pounds. But if I get that far, it’ll be staying in the outback and doing what I’m cut out for. And I tell you, Mr Strachan, the outback is a crook place for a woman.”

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“In what way?”I asked quietly. We were really getting down to something now.

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He smiled a little wryly.“Take Willstown, as an example. There’s no radio station to listen to, only the short wave stuff from Brisbane and that comes and goes with static. There’s no shop where you can buy fruit or fresh vegetables. The sister says that it’s because of that so many of the old folk get this pellagra. There’s no fresh milk. There’s no dress shop, only what a woman can get in Bill Duncan’s Store along with the dried peas and Jeyes Fluid and that. There’s no ice-cream in Willstown. There’s nowhere that a woman can buy a paper or a magazine or a book, and there’s no doctor because we can’t get one to come to Willstown. There’s no telephone. There’s no swimming-pool where a girl could sit around in a pretty bathing dress, although it can be hot there, oh my word. There’s no other young women. I don’t believe there’s more’n five women in the district between the age of seventeen and forty; as soon as they’re old enough to leave home they’re off out of it, and down to the city. To get to Cairns to do a bit of shopping you can either fly, which costs money, or you can drive for four days in a jeep, and after that you’ll find the jeep needs a new set of tyres.”He paused.“It’s a grand country for a man to live and work in, and good money, too. But it’s a crook place for a woman.”

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“I see,”I said.“Are all the outback towns like that?”

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“Most of them,”he said.“You get the bigger ones, like the Curry, they’re better, of course. But Camooweal and Normanton and Burketown and Croydon and Georgetown—they’re all just the same as Willstown.”He paused for a moment in thought.“There’s only one good one for a woman,”he said.“Alice Springs. Alice is a bonza place, oh my word. A girl’s got everything in Alice—two picture houses, shops for everything, fruit, ice-cream, fresh milk, Eddie Maclean’s swimming-pool, plenty of girls and young married women in the place, and nice houses to live in. Alice is a bonza town,”he said,“but that’s the only one.”

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“Why is that?”I asked.“What makes Alice different from the others?”

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He scratched his head.“I dunno,”he said.“It’s just that it’s got bigger, I suppose.”

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I left that one.“What you mean is that if you got Miss Paget to agree to marry you, she wouldn’t have a very happy life in Willstown.”

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He nodded.“That’s right,”he said, and there was pain in his eyes.“It all seemed sort of different when I met her in Malaya. You see, she was a prisoner and she hadn’t got nothing, and I hadn’t got nothing either, so there was a pair of us. When I got to know there was a chance she wouldn’t be married I was so much in a hurry to get over here I didn’t stop to think about the outback, or if I did I thought of her as someone who’d got nothing so she’d be all right in Willstown. See what I mean?”He looked at me appealingly.“But then I come to England and I see Southampton and the sort of way people live there, bombed and muggered up although it is, and I been in London and I been in Colwyn Bay. Then when you told me she’d come into money I got thinking about how she would be living and the sort of things that she’d be used to and she wouldn’t get in Willstown, and then I thought I’d acted a bit hasty. I never know it to work, for a girl to come straight out from England to the outback. And for a girl with money of her own, it’ld be worse still.”He paused, and grinned at me.“So I went out on the grog.”

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In all the circumstances, it now seemed to me that he had taken a very reasonable line of action, but it was a pity it had cost him seventy pounds.“Look, Joe,”I said.“We want to think about this thing a bit. I think I’ll have to write and tell Miss Paget that I’ve met you. You see, she thought you were dead.”

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He stared at me.“You knew about me, then?”

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“Not very much,”I said.“I know that you stole chickens for her, and the Japs nailed you up and beat you. She thought you died.”

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“I bloody near did,”he said grinning.“She told you that, did she?”

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I nodded.“It’s been a very deep grief to her,”I said quietly.“You wouldn’t want her to go on like that? You see, she thinks it was her fault.”

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“It wasn’t her fault at all,”he said in his slow way.“She told me not to stick my neck out, and I went and bought it. It wasn’t her fault at all.”

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“I think you ought to write to her,”I repeated.

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There was a long pause.

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“I dunno what in hell I’d say to her if I did,”he muttered.

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There was no point in going on agonizing about it. I got up.“Look, Joe,”I said. Take a bit of time to think it over. When have you got to be back in Australia?”

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“I wouldn’t be doing right by Mrs Spears unless I get back on the station by the end of October,”he said.“I don’t want to serve her a crook deal.”

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“That gives you two and a half months,”I said.“How much did your airline ticket cost you when you came here?”

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“Three hundred and twenty-five pounds,”he said.

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“And you’ve got five hundred pounds left, on your letter of credit.”

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“That’s right.”

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“Do you want to go back by air, or would you rather go by sea? I could find out about sea passages for you, if you like. I think it would cost about eighty pounds on a tramp steamer, but you’d have to leave pretty soon—within a fortnight, say.”

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“There don’t seem to be much point in staying here,”he said a little wearily.“There wouldn’t be no chance that she’ll be coming back to England?”

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“Not in that time, I’m afraid.”

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“I’d better go back by sea, and save what’s left of the money.”

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“I think that’s wise,”I said.“I’ll get my office on to finding out about the passage. In the meantime, why don’t you move in here? You’re welcome to use that spare room till you go, and it will be cheaper for you than living in the hotel.”

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“Wouldn’t I be in your way?”

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“Not in the least,”I said.“I’m out most of the day, and I’d be very glad for you to stay here if you’d like to.”

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He agreed to that, and I asked him what he wanted most to see in England in his brief visit. He wanted to see No. 19 Acacia Road, Hammersmith, where his father had been born. He wanted to see a live broadcast of“Much-Binding-in-the-Marsh”which he listened to on short wave from Brisbane when the static permitted. (“They’ve got a bonza radio at Alice,”he said wistfully.“A local station, right in the town.”) He wanted to see all he could of thoroughbred horses and thoroughbred cattle. He was interested in saddlery, but he didn’t think that we had much to teach them about that.

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There was no difficulty about Hammersmith, of course; I put him in a bus that afternoon, and went into my office to deal with my neglected work. Apart from the clients who came to see me, I had plenty to think about. Whether Jean Paget chose to marry this man when she met him was entirely her own affair, but it was quite a possibility that she would do so. Whatever one might think about the suitability of such a match, there was no denying that Joe Harman had some very solid virtues; he seemed to be hard-working, thrifty if one excepts the great extravagance of flying half across the world to look for the girl he loved, and likely to make a success of his life; quite certainly he was a kind man who would make a good husband.

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There was another aspect of the matter which was worth investigation. Whether she knew it or not, Jean Paget had Australia in her ancestry. She had never mentioned her grandfather, James Macfadden, to me and it seemed quite possible that she had never thought about him much. And yet, he was the original source of her money, and apparently he had made it in Australia before coming home to England to break his neck while riding in a point-to-point in Yorkshire. It would be interesting, I thought, to find out a little more about James Macfadden. Had he made his money on an outback cattle station, too? Had he been just such another as Joe Harman?

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I sent my girl that afternoon to bring me the Macfadden box, and I sat looking through the old deeds and wills after my last client had gone. The only clue I found was in the Will of James Macfadden dated September 18th, 1903, which began,“I, James Nelson Macfadden of Lowdale Manor, Kirkby Moorside, in the County of Yorkshire, and of Hall’s Creek in Western Australia, do hereby revoke all former wills... etc.”I knew nothing of Hall’s Creek at that time, but I noted the name for future investigation. That is all there was.

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I got Marcus Fernie on the telephone that afternoon at his office at the BBC and asked if I could have a ticket for“Much-Binding-in-the-Marsh”. I had to tell him something about Joe Harman in order to get it because there seemed to be considerable competition, and he came back at once with a demand that Harman should be interviewed for the programme“In Town Tonight”. I said I’d see him about that, and he promised to send over the ticket. Then I got on to old Sir Dennis Frampton who has a herd of pedigree Herefords at his place down by Taunton and told him about Joe Harman, and he very kindly invited him down for a couple of nights.

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I got back to my flat at about seven o’clock; I had arranged for dinner there. Joe Harman was there, and he had been to the Bank and the hotel, and he had brought his suitcase round to my spare room. I asked if he had found his father’s house at Hammersmith.

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“I found it,”he said.“Oh my word, I did.”

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“Pretty bad?”

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He grinned.“That’s putting it mild. We got some slums in Australia, but nothing like that. Dad did all right for himself when he come away from that and out to Queensland.”

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I offered him a glass of sherry, but he preferred a beer; I went and got him a bottle.“When did your father leave this country?”I inquired,

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“1904,”he said.“He went out to the Curry, to Cobb and Co. They used to run the stage coaches, before motors came. He must have been about fifteen then. He fought in the first war with the Aussies at Gallipoli.”

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“He’s dead now, is he?”

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“Aye,”he said.“He died in 1940, soon after I joined the army.”He paused.“Mother’s still alive. She lives with my sister Amy at the Curry.”

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“Tell me,”I said,“do you know a place called Hall’s Creek?”

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“Where the gold was? Over by Wyndham, in West Australia?”

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“That will be the place,”I said.“There are gold mines there, are there?”

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“I don’t think they work it now,”he said.“There was a lot of gold there in the nineties, like in Queensland, in the Gulf country. I’ve never been to Hall’s Creek, but I’ve always thought that it would be like Croydon. There was a lot of gold at Croydon, oh my word. It lasted for about ten years, and then they had to go so deep for it, it didn’t pay any longer. Croydon had thirty thousand people one time, so they say. Now it’s got two hundred. It’s the same at Normanton and Burketown—Willstown’s the same. All gold towns at one time, they were.”

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“You never heard of anybody called Macfadden over at Hall’s Creek, did you?”

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He shook his head.“I never heard the name.”

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I told him I was getting a ticket for“Much-Binding-in-the-Marsh”, and that they wanted him to broadcast on Saturday night. He agreed diffidently to do this; when the time came I listened in and thought he did it surprisingly well. The announcer shepherded him along quite skilfully, and Harman spoke for about six or seven minutes about the Midhurst cattle station and the country down below the Gulf of Carpentaria that he called the Gulf country. Marcus Fernie took the trouble to ring me up next day to tell me how well it had gone.“I only wish we could get more chaps like him now and then,”he said.“It makes a difference when you hear the real McCoy.”

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I put him on the train on Sunday down to Taunton to see Sir Dennis Frampton’s cows. He had not much time left, because a ship of the Shaw Savill line was leaving on the following Friday morning for New Zealand and Australia, and I had managed to get him a cheap berth on that. He came back on the Wednesday full of what he had seen.“He’s got a bonza herd there, oh my word,”he said.“I learned more about raising up the quality of stock there in two days than I’d have learned in ten years in the Gulf country. Of course, you couldn’t do the things that he does on a station like Midhurst, but I got plenty to think about.”

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“You mean about breeding?”

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“We don’t breed for quality at all in the Gulf,”he said.“Not like you set about it here in England. All we do is go out and shoot the scrub bulls when you see them so you keep the best ones breeding. I’d like to see a herd of pedigree stock out there, like he’s got. I never see such beasts outside a show.”

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After dinner I had a word with him about Miss Paget.“I shall write to her in a day or two and give her your address,”I said.“I know that she’ll be very sorry to have missed you, and I should think you’d find a letter from her waiting for you at Midhurst when you get there. In fact, I know you will, because I shall write air mail, and she’s certain to write air mail to you.”

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He brightened considerably at the thought.“I don’t think I’ll write to her from here,”he said.“If you’re going to do that I’ll wait and write when I hear from her. I’m glad I didn’t meet her over here, in a way. It’s probably all turning out for the best.”

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It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him then that she was in Australia, but I refrained. I had written to her in Alice Springs the day before Joe Harman had come to me, and I was expecting a letter from her any day now, because she used to write once a week, very regularly. If necessary, I could cable her to tell her his address in order that she might not leave Australia without seeing him, but there was no reason to lay all her cards before him at this stage.

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I saw him off at the docks two days later, as I had seen Jean Paget a few months before. As I turned to go down the gangway he said gruffly,“Thank you for doing so much for me, Mr Strachan. I’ll be writing from Midhurst.”And he shook my hand with a grip that made me wince, for all the injury his hand had suffered.

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I turned to go down the gangway.“That’s all right, Joe. You’ll find a letter from Miss Paget when you get back home. You might even find more than that.”

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I had reason for that last remark, because I had a letter from her in my pocket that had come by that day’s post, and it was postmarked Willstown.

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stroll

[strəʊl]

n.闲逛;漫步

grind

[ɡraɪnd]

v.磨;压迫;碾碎;磨得吱吱响;逐渐停顿

blacken

['blækən]

v.(使)变黑;诽谤

oxidize

['ɒksɪdaɪz]

v.氧化;生锈

undoubted

[ʌn'daʊtɪd]

adj.无疑的

reverent

['revərənt]

adj.恭敬的;虔诚的

sincerity

[sɪn'serəti]

n.真诚;诚实;诚挚

bastard

['bɑːstəd]

adj.私生的;错误的;混蛋的

orderly

['ɔːdəli]

adj.有秩序的;整齐的;一丝不苟的

disgrace

[dɪs'ɡreɪs]

n.耻辱

stretcher

['stretʃə(r)]

n.担架;伸张器;横档

Jean

[dʒiːn]

n.斜纹布(复数)jeans:牛仔裤.

glint

[ɡlɪnt]

n.闪烁

surf

[sɜːf]

vi.冲浪;浏览

felted

['feltɪd]

v. 把 ... 制成毡(使 ... 粘结)

recollect

[ˌrekə'lekt]

v.回忆;回想;记起

mercy

['mɜːsi]

n.仁慈;怜悯;恩惠;宽恕

lighten

['laɪtn]

v.使轻松，变得轻松;发亮，变亮;照亮;减轻，变轻;闪电;使变淡

Singapore

[ˌsiŋgə'pɔ:]

n.新加坡

consultation

[ˌkɒnsl'teɪʃn]

n.咨询

muddy

['mʌdi]

adj.泥泞的;浑浊的;糊涂的

tolerant

['tɒlərənt]

adj.宽容的;容忍的

telegram

['telɪɡræm]

电报;

dispatch

[dɪ'spætʃ]

v.派遣;发送;迅速完成;处死

moisture

['mɔɪstʃə(r)]

n.水分;潮气;湿度

euro

['jʊərəʊ]

n.欧元(符号€)

washhouse

['wɒʃhaʊs]

n.洗衣房

disband

[dɪs'bænd]

v.解散;遣散

Canberra

['kænbərə]

n.堪培拉(澳大利亚首都)

coconut

['kəʊkənʌt]

n.椰子

kindly

['kaɪndli]

adj.和蔼的;温和的;爽快的

David

['deɪvɪd]

戴维(男子名)

nuisance

['njuːsns]

n.讨厌的人;讨厌的东西;伤害

Frost

[frɒst]

n.霜;霜冻;严寒

hygienic

[haɪ'dʒiːnɪk]

adj.卫生的;卫生学的

disparagingly

[dɪ'spærɪdʒɪŋli]

adv.以贬抑的口吻;以轻视的态度

enlighten

[ɪn'laɪtn]

v.启发;开导;教导

fathom

['fæðəm]

n.英寻(=6英尺)vi.测量深度vt.彻底了解;测深

harbour

[ˈhɑːbə]

港，海港，港口，港湾入港停泊，停泊

litter

['lɪtə(r)]

n. 【U】杂乱物；废纸;

Fancy

['fænsi]

n. 【C】设想；幻想；空想;

Eurasian

[ju'reɪʒn]

adj.欧亚的;欧亚人的

Frith

[frɪθ]

n.狭窄的海岔;河口

presently

['prezntli]

adv.不久;一会儿;现在;目前

veranda

[və'rændə]

n.阳台;游廊

rig

[rɪɡ]

【1】 n.装备;帆具;服装;钻井架;钻塔 【2】vt. 【贬】操纵；作弊;

gossip

['ɡɒsɪp]

n.流言蜚语;爱说长道短的人;闲话

Cathedral

[kə'θiːdrəl]

n.大教堂

smudge

[smʌdʒ]

n.污点;渍痕;浓烟

stockrider

[s'tɒkraɪdə]

n.骑马的牧牛或牧羊人;牛仔

Noel

[nəʊ'el]

n.诺埃尔(姓氏;男子名;女子名)

Darwin

['dɑːwɪn]

n.达尔文(英国科学家))

bill

[bɪl]

①帐单；清单;

raffle

['ræfl]

n.废物;垃圾;抽奖售物

Wales

[weɪlz]

n.英国威尔士(英国的一部分;位于大不列颠岛西南)

latest

['leɪtɪst]

adj.最近的;最新的

trustee

[trʌ'stiː]

n.受托人;理事

packet

['pækɪt]

n.小袋

Horace

[ˈhɒrɪs]

n.贺拉斯(古罗马抒情诗人)

long-distance

[lɒŋ'dɪstəns]

adj.长途的

Derek

['derɪk]

n.德里克(男子名)

Sergeant

['sɑːdʒənt]

n.中士;巡佐;军士;警官;(法庭或议会等地的)警卫官

countryman

['kʌntrimən]

n.同胞;乡下人

Chancery

['tʃɑːnsəri]

n.大法官法庭;衡平法院;档案室

tan

[tæn]

n.棕褐色;黝黑 v.晒成棕褐色

gait

[ɡeɪt]

n.步态;步法

ornamental

[ˌɔːnə'mentl]

adj.装饰的

deliberate

[dɪ'lɪbərət]

adj.深思熟虑的;故意的;从容不迫的

cobber

['kɒbə(r)]

n. 朋友; 伙伴

sheepish

['ʃiːpɪʃ]

adj.羞怯的;局促不安的;驯服的;胆怯的

Casket

['kɑːskɪt]

n.(精美)匣子;首饰盒;棺材;骨灰盒

lottery

['lɒtəri]

n.彩票

ward

[wɔːd]

n.病房;行政区;监护;守卫;受监护人

X-ray

['eksreɪ]

n.X射线;X光

wireless

['waɪələs]

adj.无线的

cairn

[keən]

n.石堆纪念碑;石冢;堆石界标

aeroplane

['eərəpleɪn]

n.飞机

revert

[rɪ'vɜːt]

vi.恢复;回复;归还

crook

[krʊk]

n.钩;曲柄杖;弯曲;骗子

slack

[slæk]

a. 松弛;

muster

['mʌstə(r)]

v.集合;鼓起

fatten

['fætn]

v.养肥;使肥胖

spear

[spɪə(r)]

n.矛;标枪

Willow

['wɪləʊ]

n.柳树;柳木制品

gallon

['ɡælən]

n.加仑(容量单位)

brighten

['braɪtn]

v.使变亮;使生辉;发亮;开颜

tout

[taʊt]

v.兜售;高价卖;刺探;吹捧

typist

['taɪpɪst]

n.打字员

rueful

['ruːfl]

adj.悲伤的;怜悯的;悔恨的

interrogation

[ɪnˌterə'ɡeɪʃn]

n.审问;问号

past

[pɑːst]

a. 过去的;

cooler

['kuːlə(r)]

n.冷却器

ration

['ræʃn]

n.定额;定量;配给

stud

[stʌd]

n.大头钉;饰钉;立柱;板墙筋;壁骨;种马;耳环;年轻男子

grog

[ɡrɒɡ]

n.格罗格酒(一种掺水烈酒)

razor

['reɪzə(r)]

n.剃刀

wag

[wæɡ]

vt. 摇，摇摆(尾巴等);

shave

[ʃeɪv]

v.刮;剃;修剪;掠过;削减

shilling

['ʃɪlɪŋ]

n.先令(货币单位)

seventy

['sevnti]

①[复]七十年代(70—79年);

joker

['dʒəʊkə(r)]

n.诙谐者;家伙;(纸牌)百搭;伏笔

dunno

[də'nəʊ]

v. (我)不知道(=I don't know)

inheritance

[ɪn'herɪtəns]

n.遗传;遗产;继承;继承物

loosen

['luːsn]

vt.松开;放松;放宽

herd

[hɜːd]

n. 【C】(牛、马、猪、象等)群;

corral

[kə'rɑːl]

n.畜栏

stockyard

['stɒkjɑːd]

n.牲畜围栏

railway

['reɪlweɪ]

n.【C】铁路

leak

[liːk]

v.渗;漏;泄露

starboard

['stɑːbəd]

n.(船、飞机的)右舷

linen

['lɪnɪn]

n.亚麻布;亚麻线;亚麻制品

airman

['eəmən]

n.飞行员;空军士兵

conversation

[ˌkɒnvə'seɪʃn]

n.谈话;会话

paddy

['pædi]

n.稻田;大怒;爱尔兰人

Malay

[mə'leɪ]

n.马来人;马来语

unmarried

[ˌʌn'mærid]

adj.未婚的;独身的

saddle

['sædl]

n.鞍;车座;山脊;当权

gamble

['ɡæmbl]

v.赌博;冒险;孤注一掷

ironic

[aɪ'rɒnɪk]

adj.说反话的;讽刺的

tickle

['tɪkl]

vt.使发痒;逗乐;使快乐

Sydney

['sɪdni]

n.悉尼

ringer

['rɪŋə(r)]

n.振铃器;敲钟人;铁环;套环;冒名顶替者;酷似的人

static

['stætɪk]

adj.静态的;静止的

Bill

[bɪl]

①帐单；清单;

outback

['aʊtbæk]

n.(尤指澳大利亚的)内地

Curry

['kʌri]

n.咖哩饭菜;咖哩粉

agonize

['æɡənaɪz]

v.(使)极度痛苦.

tramp

[træmp]

n.徒步;流浪汉;淫妇;重脚步声

steamer

['stiːmə(r)]

n.汽船;轮船;蒸笼;【动】沙海螂

wearily

['wɪərəli]

adv.疲倦地;厌烦地

wistful

['wɪstfl]

adj.渴望的;忧思的;留恋的

suitability

[ˌsjuːtə'bɪləti]

n.适当;适合

Manor

['mænə(r)]

n.(封建领主的)领地;庄园

revoke

[rɪ'vəʊk]

vt.撤回，取消，废除

Marcus

['mɑːkəs]

n.马库斯(男子名)

programme

[ˈprəʊgræm]

n.电视台播放的各种电视节目

Dennis

[ˈdenɪs]

n.丹尼斯(男子名)

suitcase

['suːtkeɪs]

n.手提箱

slum

[slʌm]

n.贫民窟

sherry

['ʃeri]

n.雪利酒

diffident

['dɪfɪdənt]

adj.无自信的;客客气气的;羞怯的

announcer

[ə'naʊnsə(r)]

n.广播员;告知者

shepherd

['ʃepəd]

n.牧羊者;牧师;指导者

chap

[tʃæp]

vt. 使(皮肤)裂口，裂开；变粗糙;

Zealand

[ˈziːlənd]

n.西兰岛(丹麦最大的岛)

scrub

[skrʌb]

n.用力擦洗;矮树;渺小之物

refrain

[rɪ'freɪn]

v.抑制;避免;克制

gangway

['ɡæŋweɪ]

n.(上下船的)跳板;(剧场&%2365105; 音乐厅等的)座间甬道;过道

postmark

['pəʊstmɑːk]

n.邮戳

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