死亡约会 Part I Chapter 12（1）

（单词翻译）

Chapter 12

Sarah went down to the big marquee. She found her three fellow travelers there. They were sittingat table eating. The guide was explaining that there was another party here.

‘They came two days ago. Go day after tomorrow. Americans. The mother, very fat, verydifficult get here! Carried in chair by bearers—they say very hard work—they get very hot—yes.’

Sarah gave a sudden spurt¹ of laughter. Of course, take it properly, the whole thing was funny!

The fat dragoman looked at her gratefully. He was not finding his task too easy. LadyWestholme had contradicted him out of Baedeker three times that day and had now found faultwith the type of bed provided. He was grateful to the one member of his party who seemed to beunaccountably in a good temper.

‘Ha!’ said Lady Westholme. ‘I think these people were at the Solomon. I recognized the oldmother as we arrived here. I think I saw you talking to her at the hotel, Miss King.’

Sarah blushed guiltily, hoping Lady Westholme had not overheard much of that conversation.

‘Really, what possessed² me!’ she thought to herself in an agony.

In the meantime Lady Westholme had made a pronouncement. ‘Not interesting people at all.

Very provincial,’ she said.

Miss Pierce made eager sycophantish noises and Lady Westholme embarked³ on a history ofvarious interesting and prominent Americans whom she had met recently.

The weather being so unusually hot for the time of year, an early start was arranged for themorrow.

The four assembled for breakfast at six o’clock. There were no signs of any of the Boyntonfamily. After Lady Westholme had commented unfavourably on the absence of fruit, theyconsumed tea, tinned milk, and fried eggs in a generous allowance of fat flanked by extremely saltbacon.

Then they started forth⁴, Lady Westholme and Dr Gerard discussing with animation⁵ on the partof the former the exact value of vitamins in diet and the proper nutrition of the working classes.

Then there was a sudden hail from the camp and they halted to allow another person to join theparty. It was Mr Jefferson Cope who hurried after them, his pleasant face flushed with the exertionof running.

‘Why, if you don’t mind, I’d like to join your party this morning. Good morning, Miss King.

Quite a surprise meeting you and Dr Gerard here. What do you think of it?’

He made a gesture indicating the fantastic red rocks that stretched in every direction.

‘I think it’s rather wonderful and just a little horrible,’ said Sarah. ‘I always thought of it asromantic and dream-like—the “rose-red city”. But it’s much more real than that—it’s as real as—as raw beef.’

‘And very much the colour of it,’ agreed Mr Cope.

‘But it’s marvelous, too,’ admitted Sarah.

The party began to climb. Two Bedouin guides accompanied them. Tall men, with an easycarriage, they swung upward unconcernedly in their hobnailed boots completely foot-sure on theslippery slope. Difficulties soon began. Sarah had a good head for heights and so had Dr Gerard.

But both Mr Cope and Lady Westholme were far from happy, and the unfortunate Miss Pierce hadto be almost carried over the precipitous places, her eyes shut, her face green, while her voice roseceaselessly in a perpetual wail⁶.

‘I never could look down places. Never—from a child!’

Once she declared her intention of going back, but on turning to face the descent, her skinassumed an even greener tinge⁷, and she reluctantly decided⁸ that to go on was the only thing to bedone.

Dr Gerard was kind and reassuring⁹. He went up behind her, holding a stick between her and thesheer drop like a balustrade and she confessed that the illusion of a rail did much to conquer thefeeling of vertigo¹⁰.

Sarah, panting a little, asked the dragoman, Mahmoud, who, in spite of his ample proportions,showed no signs of distress¹¹:

‘Don’t you ever have trouble getting people up here? Elderly ones, I mean.’

‘Always—always we have trouble,’ agreed Mahmoud serenely¹².

‘Do you always try and take them?’

Mahmoud shrugged¹³ his thick shoulders.

‘They like to come. They have paid money to see these things. They wish to see them. TheBedouin guides are very clever—very sure-footed—always they manage.’

They arrived at last at the summit. Sarah drew a deep breath.

All around and below stretched the blood- red rocks — a strange and unbelievable countryunparalleled anywhere. Here in the exquisite¹⁴ pure morning air they stood like gods, surveying abaser world—a world of flaring¹⁵ violence.

Here was, as the guide told them, the ‘Place of Sacrifice’—the ‘High Place’. He showed themthe trough cut in the flat rock at their feet.

Sarah strayed away from the rest, from the glib¹⁶ phrases that flowed so readily from thedragoman’s tongue. She sat on a rock, pushed her hands through her thick black hair, and gazeddown on the world at her feet.