The Most Dangerous Game原文和翻译

The Most Dangerous Game

by Richard Connell

"General," said Rainsford firmly, "I wish to leave this island at once."

The general raised his eyebrows; he seemed hurt. "But, my dear fellow," the general protested,

"you've only just come. You've had no hunting--"

"I wish to go today," said Rainsford. He saw the dead black eyes of the general on him, studying him.

General Zaroff's face suddenly brightened.

"Tonight," said the general, "we will hunt--you and I."

Rainsford shook his head. "No, general," he said. "I will not hunt."

The general shrugged his shoulders and delicately. "As you wish, my friend," he said. "The choice

rests entirely with you. But may I not venture to suggest that you will find my idea of sport more

interesting than Ivan's?"

He nodded toward the corner to where the giant stood, scowling, his thick arms crossed on his

hogshead of chest.

"You don't mean--" cried Rainsford.

"My dear fellow," said the general, "have I not told you I always mean what I say about hunting?

This is really an inspiration.." The general raised his glass, but Rainsford sat staring at him.

"You'll find this game worth playing," the general said enthusiastically." Your brain against mine.

Your woodcraft against mine. Your strength and stamina against mine. Outdoor chess! And the stake is

not without value, eh?"

"And if I win--" began Rainsford huskily.

"I'll cheerfully acknowledge my defeat if I do not find you by midnight of the third day," said

General Zaroff. "My boat will place you on the mainland near a town." The general read what Rainsford

was thinking.

"Oh, you can trust me," said the Cossack. "I will give you my word as a gentleman and a sportsman.

Of course you, in turn, must agree to say nothing of your visit here."

"I'll agree to nothing of the kind," said Rainsford.

The general sipped his wine. Then in a businesslike air, he went on, "Ivanwill supply you with

hunting clothes, food, a knife. I suggest you wear moccasins; they leave a poorer trail. I suggest, too, that

you avoid the big swamp in the southeast corner of the island. We call it Death Swamp. There's quicksand

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there. One foolish fellow tried it. The deplorable part of it was that Lazarus followed him. You can

imagine my feelings, Mr. Rainsford. I loved Lazarus; he was the finest hound in my pack. Well, I must

beg you to excuse me now. I always' take a nap after lunch. You'll hardly have time for a nap, I fear.

You'll want to start, no doubt. I shall not follow till dusk. Hunting at night is so much more exciting than

by day, don't you think? General Zaroff, with a deep, courtly bow, strolled from the room.

Rainsford had fought his way through the bush for two hours. "I must keep my nerve. I must keep

my nerve," he said through tight teeth.

He had not been entirely clearheaded when the chateau gates snapped shut behind him. His whole

idea at first was to put distance between himself and General Zaroff; and, to this end, he had plunged

along, spurred on by a sharp feeling of panic. Now he had got a grip on himself, had stopped, and was

taking stock of himself and the situation. He saw that straight flight was futile; inevitably it would bring

him face to face with the sea. He was in a picture with a frame of water, and his operations, clearly, must

take place within that frame.

"I'll give him a trail to follow," muttered Rainsford, and he struck off from the rude path he had been

following into the trackless wilderness. He executed a series of intricate loops; he doubled on his trail

again and again, recalling all the lore of the fox hunt, and all the dodges of the fox. Night found him

leg-weary, with hands and face lashed by the branches, on a thickly wooded ridge. He knew it would be

insane to blunder on through the dark, even if he had the strength. His need for rest was imperative and he

thought, "I have played the fox, now I must play the cat of the fable." A big tree with a thick trunk and

outspread branches was near by, and, taking care to leave not the slightest mark, he climbed up into the

crotch, and, stretching out on one of the broad limbs, after a fashion, rested. Rest brought him new

confidence and almost a feeling of security. Even so zealous a hunter as General Zaroff could not trace

him there, he told himself; only the devil himself could follow that complicated trail through the jungle

after dark. But perhaps the general was a devil--

An apprehensive night crawled slowly by like a wounded snake and sleep did not visit Rainsford,

although the silence of a dead world was on the jungle. Toward morning when a dingy gray was

varnishing the sky, the cry of some startled bird focused Rainsford's attention in that direction. Something

was coming through the bush, coming slowly, carefully, coming by the same winding way Rainsford had

come. He flattened himself down on the limb and, through a screen of leaves almost as thick as tapestry,

he watched. . . . That which was approaching was a man.

It was General Zaroff. He made his way along with his eyes fixed in utmost concentration on the

ground before him. He paused, almost beneath the tree, dropped to his knees and studied the ground.

Rainsford's impulse was to hurl himself down like a panther, but he saw that the general's right hand held

something metallic--a small automatic pistol.

The hunter shook his head several times, as if he were puzzled. Then he straightened up and took

from his case one of his black cigarettes; its pungent incenselike smoke floated up to Rainsford's nostrils.

Rainsford held his breath. The general's eyes had left the ground and were traveling inch by inch up

the tree. Rainsford froze there, every muscle tensed for a spring. But the sharp eyes of the hunter stopped

before they reached the limb where Rainsford lay; a smile spread over his brown face. Very deliberately

he blew a smoke ring into the air; then he turned his back on the tree and walked carelessly away, back

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along the trail he had come. The swish of the underbrush against his hunting boots grew fainter and

fainter.

The pent-up air burst hotly from Rainsford's lungs. His first thought made him feel sick and numb.

The general could follow a trail through the woods at night; he could follow an extremely difficult trail;

he must have uncanny powers; only by the merest chance had the Cossack failed to see his quarry.

Rainsford's second thought was even more terrible. It sent a shudder of cold horror through his

whole being. Why had the general smiled? Why had he turned back?

Rainsford did not want to believe what his reason told him was true, but the truth was as evident as

the sun that had by now pushed through the morning mists. The general was playing with him! The

general was saving him for another day's sport! The Cossack was the cat; he was the mouse. Then it was

that Rainsford knew the full meaning of terror.

"I will not lose my nerve. I will not."

He slid down from the tree, and struck off again into the woods. His face was set and he forced the

machinery of his mind to function. Three hundred yards from his hiding place he stopped where a huge

dead tree leaned precariously on a smaller, living one. Throwing off his sack of food, Rainsford began to

work with all his energy.

The job was finished at last, and he threw himself down behind a fallen log a hundred feet away. He

did not have to wait long. The cat was coming again to play with the mouse.

Following the trail with the sureness of a bloodhound came General Zaroff. Nothing escaped those

searching black eyes, no crushed blade of grass, no bent twig, no mark, no matter how faint, in the moss.

So intent was the Cossack on his stalking that he was upon the thing Rainsford had made before he saw it.

His foot touched the protruding bough that was the trigger. Even as he touched it, the general sensed his

danger and leaped back with the agility of an ape. But he was not quite quick enough; the dead tree,

delicately adjusted to rest on the cut living one, crashed down and struck the general a glancing blow on

the shoulder as it fell; but for his alertness, he must have been smashed beneath it. He staggered, but he

did not fall; nor did he drop his revolver. He stood there, rubbing his injured shoulder, and Rainsford,

with fear again gripping his heart, heard the general's mocking laugh ring through the jungle.

"Rainsford," called the general, "if you are within sound of my voice, as I suppose you are, let me

congratulate you. Not many men know how to make a Malay mancatcher. You are proving interesting,

Mr. Rainsford. I am going now to have my wound dressed; it's only a slight one. But I shall be back. I

shall be back."

When the general had gone, Rainsford took up his flight again. It was flight now, a desperate,

hopeless flight, that carried him on for some hours. Dusk came, then darkness, and still he pressed on.

The ground grew softer under his moccasins; the vegetation grew ranker, denser; insects bit him savagely.

Then, as he stepped forward, his foot sank into the ooze. He tried to wrench it back, but the muck

sucked viciously at his foot as if it were a giant leech. With a violent effort, he tore his feet loose. He

knew where he was now. Death Swamp and its quicksand.

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The softness of the earth gave him an idea and he began to dig. Rainsford had dug himself in in

France when a second's delay meant death. That had been a placid pastime compared to his digging now.

The pit grew deeper; when it was above his shoulders, he climbed out and from some hard saplings cut

stakes and sharpened them to a fine point. These stakes he planted in the bottom of the pit with the points

sticking up. Then he covered the mouth of the pit with weeds and branches.

He crouched behind a lightning-charred tree and he heard the padding sound of feet on

the soft earth, and the night breeze brought him the perfume of the general's cigarette. It seemed to

Rainsford that the general was coming with unusual swiftness; he was not feeling his way along, foot by

foot. Rainsford, crouching there, could not see the general, nor could he see the pit. He lived a year in a

minute. Then he felt an impulse to cry aloud with joy, for he heard the sharp crackle of the breaking

branches as the cover of the pit gave way; he heard the sharp scream of pain as the pointed stakes found

their mark. He leaped up from his place of concealment. Then he cowered back. Three feet from the pit a

man was standing, with an electric torch in his hand.

"You've done well, Rainsford," the voice of the general called. "Your Burmese tiger pit has claimed

one of my best dogs. Again you score. I think, Mr. Rainsford, Ill see what you can do against my whole

pack. I'm going home for a rest now. Thank you for a most amusing evening."

At daybreak Rainsford, lying near the swamp, was awakened by a sound that made him know that he

had new things to learn about fear. It was a distant sound, faint and wavering, but he knew it. It was the

baying of a pack of hounds.

Rainsford knew he could do one of two things. He could stay where he was and wait. That was

suicide. He could flee. That was postponing the inevitable. For a moment he stood there, thinking. An

idea that held a wild chance came to him, and, tightening his belt, he headed away from the swamp.

The baying of the hounds drew nearer, then still nearer, nearer, ever nearer. On a ridge Rainsford

climbed a tree. Down a watercourse, not a quarter of a mile away, he could see the bush moving.

Straining his eyes, he saw the lean figure of General Zaroff; just ahead of him Rainsford made out another

figure; it was the giant Ivan, and he seemed pulled forward by some unseen force; Rainsford knew that

Ivan must be holding the pack in leash.

They would be on him any minute now. His mind worked frantically. He thought of a native trick he

had learned in Uganda. He slid down the tree. He caught hold of a springy young sapling and to it he

fastened his hunting knife, with the blade pointing down the trail; with a bit of wild grapevine he tied

back the sapling. Then he ran for his life. The hounds raised their voices as they hit the fresh scent.

Rainsford knew now how an animal at bay feels.

He had to stop to get his breath. The baying of the hounds stopped abruptly, and Rainsford's heart

stopped too. They must have reached the knife.

He shinned excitedly up a tree and looked back. His pursuers had stopped. But the hope that was in

Rainsford's brain when he climbed died, for he saw in the shallow valley that General Zaroff was still on

his feet. But Ivan was not. The knife, driven by the recoil of the springing tree, had not wholly failed.

Rainsford had hardly tumbled to the ground when the pack took up the cry again.

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"Nerve, nerve, nerve!" he panted, as he dashed along. A blue gap showed between the trees dead

ahead. Ever nearer drew the hounds. Rainsford forced himself on toward that gap. He reached it. It was

the shore of the sea. Across a cove he could see the gloomy gray stone of the chateau. Twenty feet below

him the sea rumbled and hissed. Rainsford hesitated. He heard the hounds. Then he leaped far out into the

sea. . . .

When the general and his pack reached the place by the sea, the Cossack stopped. For some minutes

he stood regarding the blue-green expanse of water. He shrugged his shoulders. Then be sat down, took a

drink of brandy from a silver flask, lit a cigarette, and hummed a bit from Madame Butterfly.

General Zaroff had an exceedingly good dinner that evening. Two slight annoyances kept him from

perfect enjoyment. One was the thought that it would be difficult to replace Ivan; the other was that his

quarry had escaped. In his library, he read for a while. At ten he went up to his bedroom. He was

deliciously tired. There was a little moonlight, so, before turning on his light, he went to the window and

looked down at the courtyard. He could see the great hounds, and he called, "Better luck another time," to

them. Then he switched on the light.

A man, who had been hiding in the curtains of the bed, was standing there.

"Rainsford!" screamed the general. "How in God's name did you get here?"

"Swam," said Rainsford. "I found it quicker than walking through the jungle."

The general sucked in his breath and smiled. "I congratulate you," he said. "You have won the

game."

Rainsford did not smile. "I am still a beast at bay," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. "Get ready,

General Zaroff."

The general made one of his deepest bows. "I see," he said. "Splendid! One of us is to furnish a

repast for the hounds. The other will sleep in this very excellent bed. On guard, Rainsford." . . .

He had never slept in a better bed, Rainsford decided.

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第九课 最危险的猎物

1. “将军，”瑞斯福德语气坚定地说，“我希望马上离开这个岛。”

2. 将军扬起眉毛，仿佛自尊心受到了伤害。

3. “我希望今天就走，”瑞斯福德说道。他看到将军那双冰冷、毫无表情的黑眼睛在盯着他，审视着。突然，扎洛夫将军露出笑容，为瑞斯福徳的杯子斟上了酒。

4. “今晚，”将军说，“我们去打猎棗你和我。”

5. “不，将军，”瑞斯福德说，“我不去打猎。”

6. 将军耸了耸肩。“悉听尊便，我的朋友。如何选择完全取决于你。不过我能否冒昧地提醒你注意，你难道没有发现我对体育运动的看法要比伊凡的更有趣吗？”

7. 将军朝站在角落里的那个巨人点了点头， 巨人两只粗壮的胳膊交叉着放在他那像啤酒桶般的胸前。

8. “你不是棗”瑞斯福德大叫起来。

9. “亲爱的朋友，”将军说，“我不是告诉过你，我从不拿打猎的事开玩笑吗？”

10. 将军举起了酒杯，可瑞斯福德仍然坐在那，紧盯着他。

11. “你会发现这场游戏值得一玩。”将军热情洋溢地说，“较量你我的智慧，较量森林生活的技巧，较量体力与耐力。这不过是场室外象棋比赛！下这样大的赌注可谓昂贵，嗯？”

12. 如果我赢了棗瑞斯福德声音沙哑地开口道。

13. “如果我到第三天午夜还找不到你的话，我会欣然认输。”将军说，“我会用小船把你送到陆地上靠近小镇子的地方。”他了一口葡萄酒，然后一本正经的继续说道：“伊凡会向你提供猎装、食物，还有一把刀子。我建议你穿上路皮鞋，这样鞋印就不容易被发现了。我还建议你要避开岛东南角的那片大沼泽地，我们叫它死亡沼泽，那里有流沙。一个白痴曾试过。令人遗憾的是拉撒路斯撵上了他。他可是我最优秀的猎犬。好啦，请原谅，我得告辞啦。我吃完午饭后总要睡上一小觉。恐怕你几乎没有时间睡了。毫无疑问，您想动身了吧。黄昏之前我不会追你。夜里打猎要比白天打猎更刺激，你不这样认为吗？瑞斯福德先生，再见。”

14. 扎洛夫将军深深地优雅地鞠了个躬，信步走出了房间。

15. 瑞斯福德在灌木丛中艰难地前行了两个小时。“我必须保持镇静，我必须保持镇静，”他咬紧牙关说道。

16. 别墅的大门在他身后嘣的一声关上时，他的头脑还没有完全清醒过来。起初，他的唯一念头就是与扎洛夫将军拉开距离。他为一种强烈的恐惧感所驱使，拼命向前奔跑着。不过，此时他已控制了情绪，停下了脚步，开始估计自己的处境。

17. 他认识到，径直往前跑是徒劳无益的，他不可避免地要跑到海边。他好比在一幅画上，而大海就像是画框，他的行动显然必须在海水的框架内进行。

18. “我会让他沿着一条小道来追踪我的，”瑞斯福德低语道。他离开刚才走的崎岖不平的羊肠小道，进入茫茫荒野之中。他设下了一系列复杂的圈套，在小道上来回绕着圈子，并回想起自己过去猎狐的全部学问，以及狐狸躲避猎人的所有伎俩。夜幕降临了，他登上一个布满密密树林的山脊，两条腿像灌了铅似的，实在走不动了，手和脸也被树枝划得火辣辣的疼。他十分清楚，纵然他还有的是力气，在黑暗中瞎闯也是愚蠢致极的行为。“我已学了狐狸的招数，”他想，“现在该扮演猫了。”他身边有一棵大树，树干又粗又壮，茂密的树枝向四周铺开。他小心翼翼地爬到树杈上，注意不留下一点印记。他勉强躺在一根粗壮的树杈上歇息。休息时他又恢复了信心，几乎给他带来了一种安全感。他心里叨咕着，虽然扎洛夫将军是个狩猎狂，但他也无法追踪到这里。天黑以后只有魔鬼本人才能穿过丛林，辨认出这么复杂的小道，不过也许将军就是个魔鬼棗

19. 黑夜像一条受伤的蛇一样缓慢的蠕动着，尽管丛林里的世界像死一般寂静，瑞斯福德彻夜未能入眠。临近拂晓，天空出现了一抹灰暗，一只受惊小鸟的鸣叫声引起了瑞斯福德的注意，他便 6

朝那个方向望去。什么东西正在穿过灌木丛，缓慢、小心翼翼地沿着他竟过的同一条蜿蜒的小岛摸过

来。他放平了身子，紧贴在树杈上，透过树叶的缝隙看见那个影子原来是个人。

20. 这个人就是扎洛夫将军。他两眼死死盯着地面，往前开出一条道来。他几乎就在这棵树下停下了脚步，蹲下身来，仔细查看着地面。瑞斯福德感到一阵冲动，真相像豹子一样跳下去，但她看到了将军右手握着件金属造的东西棗一只小巧的自动手枪。

21. 猎手晃了几下头，似乎有点迷惑不解。这时候，他只起身子，掏出一支烟。瑞斯福德屏住呼吸。将军的目光在一点一点的往树上扫去，瑞斯福德一动也不敢动，身上的每块肌肉都像发条一样绷

得紧紧的。可是，猎手那犀利的目光没等射到瑞斯福德藏身的大树杈，便停了下来。他脸上露出

了笑容，故意朝空中吐了一个烟圈，然后转身漫不经心的走开了。

22. 瑞斯福德喷出憋再肺中的一口气。他的第一个念头便是感到懊丧，有点麻木，将军竟然能够在夜里穿过树林，最终极其难寻的足迹，他一定有着神奇的本领。这位哥萨克人没能看到他的猎物纯属偶然。

23. 瑞斯福德的第二个想法令人感到更加恐怖，不禁吓得他浑身发抖。将军为什么面带笑容？他为什么转身离开了？

24. 事实明摆着，将军在和他玩游戏！他留下这个猎物是为了第二天继续狩猎。那哥萨克人是猫，他是老鼠。直到这时，瑞斯福德才真正明白恐怖的全部含义。

25. “我绝不能丧志理智，绝对不能！”

26. 他从树上滑下来，改变方向，再次走进树林。他迫使自己认真思考一下。他走出了三百码远后，停在一颗巨大的死树旁边，这棵死树不牢靠地倚在一棵较小的活树上。他撂下食品袋，开始忙碌起来。活一会就干完了，他就躲到一百英尺开外的一棵倒木后面。他没等上多久，猫又来戏老鼠了。

27. 将军一一副凶猛大猎犬般的自信神情沿着他的足迹赶来了。任何东西都难以逃脱他那双锐利的眼睛，被踩到的草叶、弯曲的嫩枝，还有留在苔藓上的痕迹，这一切都没能逃脱他搜寻的目光。这位哥萨克一心追踪猎物，到了瑞斯福德布置的机关跟前，才猛然意识到迫在眉睫的威胁，他一直角碰上了伸出的树干，它是触发装置。他觉察到为先后，像猿猴一样敏捷的往后一闪。不过，他跳得还是不够快，那棵精巧地靠在被砍断的活树上的死树压了下来，砸在他肩上。若不是他机敏过人，他一定会被砸扁在倒木下了。他要晃着身子，但没有倒下去。他站在那儿，揉着肩膀，瑞斯福德听到了他那嘲讽的笑声在丛林中回荡。

28. “瑞斯福德，”将军大声喊道，“如果你能听到我的声音的话，我想你会听得到的，我就恭喜你了。并没有多少人懂得如何布置这种马来捕人器呢。你变得越发有趣了，瑞斯福德先生。我去包扎一下伤口，不过我会回来的，我一定会回来的。”

29. 将军离开之后，瑞斯福德又踏上了他的逃亡之路。这真是逃命，拼命、绝望的逃生，他就这样持续跑了好几个小时。黄昏来临，然后便是漫漫长夜，他仍然不顾一切地奔跑着。他越走脚下的地面越软，草木也越来越浓密，虫子也在无情的叮咬 他，他正在往前狂奔时，一只脚突然陷进了淤泥。他用力想把脚拔出来。可是淤泥仿佛一只巨大的吸血水蛭一样裹住了他的脚，他使尽全身力气，终于把脚拔了出来。他此刻才知道来到了什么地方：死亡沼泽。

30. 见到松软的土地，他便想到一个主意。于是他开始挖起来，他曾在法国挖壕据守，当时真是刻不容缓，死亡时刻都在逼近他。和他现在挖坑比起来，那时简直算得上是一种轻松的消遣活动。坑越挖越深，挖到比他肩膀还深时，他从坑里爬了出来，用硬木小树砍成一根根木桩，并把木桩削尖。他把这些木桩尖朝上插入坑底，然后用杂草和树枝把坑口覆盖起来。

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31. 他蹲在一棵被雷电烧焦的术后等待着。不一会，他听到松软的土地上传来了噗噗的脚步声，夜晚的细习习微风带来了将军所吸的香烟味。看起来将军这次一反常态，走得相当快。瑞斯福德简直是度分如年。这时候，他感到一股冲动，向高兴地大叫一声，因为随着坑口的伪装物塌下去，坑里削尖的木桩刺中了目标，他听到了疼痛的嚎叫声。他从隐蔽处跳了起来，但又立即缩了回去。一个人站在离坑三英尺远的地方，手里拿着手电筒。

32. “瑞斯福德，你干的不错呀！”将军喊道。“你缅甸式的陷虎坑害死了我一条最好的猎狗。你有得分了。我要回家休息一下。谢谢你是我度过了一个最有趣的夜晚。”

33. 黎明时分，瑞斯福德被一种声音惊醒，这声音使他明白，还有更可怕的事情在等着他。尽管声音离得很远，但他知道，这是一群猎狗的叫声。34. 瑞斯福德清楚，他只有两条路可以选择，一条路是呆在原地不动，这等于自杀，另一条路是逃跑，

这不过是推迟不可避免的死亡而已。他站在那里思考着。他突然想到了一个主意，虽然说这希望

不大，可他还是勒紧了腰带，转身离开了沼泽。

35. 猎狗的声音越来越近。瑞斯福德跑上一道山梁，爬上一棵树。在大约四分之一英里远的地方，他

看见灌木丛在摆动。他睁大眼睛注视着，看见将军那精瘦的身影，就在将军前面，他认出了另一

个人，是巨人伊凡。瑞斯福德知道，他手里一定是牵着系猎狗的皮带。

36. 他们随时都会扑向他。他在拼命的想着。他想起了在乌干达学过的一种当地的绝招儿，便从树上爬下来。他抓住一棵有弹性的小树，把猎刀绑在树上没让刀尖朝下对着小道，又用野葡萄藤把小树向后拉紧。然后，他便拼命逃开。猎狗嗅到了新气味，叫得更欢了。

37. 猎狗的嚎叫突然停止了，瑞斯福德的心跳也跟着停了下来。他兴奋地攀上树，往回张望。他的追铺者停下了脚步，不过，他的希望又破灭了，因为他看见扎洛夫将军仍然站在浅浅的山谷里。可是伊凡却不见了，借小树反弹射出去的猎刀送算没有完全扑空。

38. 瑞斯福德刚一跌倒地上，猎狗们又开始吠叫起来。“沉住气，沉住气，沉住气！”

39. 他气喘吁吁的向前狂奔。正前方的树木之间出现了一条蓝色的沟。猎狗离他越来越近。瑞斯福德不顾一切地向那条沟奔去。他跑到跟前，发现原来是海边。在海湾对面，别墅暗灰色的石头墙依然依稀可见。在他脚下 20 英尺处，海浪翻滚，发出隆隆声响。瑞斯福德迟疑着。他听到了猎狗的叫声，便纵身投入了大海

40. 将军和那群猎狗追到海边，这位哥萨克停住了。他在那站了几分钟，注视着那片蔚蓝色的海水。他耸了耸肩膀，然后坐下来，拿出一只长颈银瓶，喝了几口白兰地，点燃了一支香烟，口里哼着《蝴蝶夫人》中的曲子。晚上，扎洛夫将军美餐了一顿。他感到两点小小的不快使他难以尽兴，一来是他想到了很难找到代替伊凡的人，再者是他的猎物逃脱了。他在图书室看了一会儿书，10点钟上楼回到卧室。他虽然疲劳，但心情十分舒畅。外面多少有点月光，于是他没有开灯，走到窗前，朝庭院望去。他能看见他那一大群猎狗，便冲他们喊上一句“祝下次走运”。随后，他打开了灯。

41. 屋里站着一个人，他刚才一直藏在床头的帷幔后面。

42. “瑞斯福德！”将军惊叫道，“我的上帝啊，你是怎么到这来的？”

43. “游过来的”，瑞斯福德说，“我发现游水要比穿过丛林快多了。”

44. 将军倒吸了一口气，脸上露出了笑容。“我祝贺你！”他说，“这场游戏你赢了。”

45. 瑞斯福德没有笑。“我仍然是海湾中的一头困兽。”他用低沉、沙哑的声音说，“准备好，扎洛夫将军。”

46. 将军深深地鞠了一躬。“我明白”，他说，“太精彩了！我们两人中有一个将为猎狗提供膳 8

食，而另一个将睡在这张非常舒适的床上。提防着点，瑞斯福德”

47. 他还从未在这么舒服的床上睡过呢，瑞斯富得得出结论说。

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