Unit 9A - After Twenty Years
After Twenty Years
O·Henry
The policeman on the beat moved up the avenue impressively. The impressiveness was normal and not for show, for spectators were few. The time was barely ten o'clock at night, but chilly gusts of wind with a taste of rain in them had almost emptied the streets.
Trying doors as he went, swinging his club with many clever movements, turning now and then to cast his watchful eye down the peaceful street, the officer, with his strongly built form and slight air of superiority, made a fine picture of a guardian of the peace. The area was one that kept early hours. Now and then you might see the lights of a cigar store or of an all-night lunch counter, but the majority of the doors belonged to business places that had long since closed.
Halfway down a certain block, the policeman suddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway of a darkened hardware store a man leaned, with an unlighted cigar in his mouth. As the policeman walked up to him, the man spoke up quickly.
"It's all right, officer," he said, confidently. "I'm just waiting for a friend. It's an appointment made twenty years ago. Sounds a little funny to you, doesn't it? Well, I'll explain if you'd like to make certain it's all right.
About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands—'Big Joe' Brady's Restaurant."
"Until five years ago," said the policeman. "It was torn down then."
The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale, square-jawed face with keen eyes, and a little white scar near his eyebrow. His tiepin was a large diamond, oddly set.
"Twenty years ago tonight," said the man, "I dined here at 'Big Joe' Brady's with Jimmy Wells, my best friend, and the finest man in the world. He and I were brought up here in New York, just like two brothers, together. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn't have dragged Jimmy out of New York; he thought it was the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. We figured that in twenty years each of us ought to have our fate worked out and our fortunes made, whatever they were going to be."
"It sounds pretty interesting," said the policeman. "Rather a long time between meetings, though, it seems to me. Haven't you heard from your friend since you left?"
"Well, yes, for a time we wrote," said the other. "But after a year or two we lost track of each other. You see, the West is a pretty big place, and I kept running around over it pretty lively. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he's alive, for he always was the truest, best friend in the world. He'll never forget. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door tonight, and it's worth it if my old partner turns up."
The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids of it set with small diamonds.
"Three minutes to ten," he announced. "It was exactly ten o'clock when we parted here at the restaurant door."
"Did pretty well out West, didn't you?" asked the policeman.
"You're right! I hope Jimmy has done half as well. He was a kind of slow man, though, good fellow as he was. I've had to compete with some of the sharpest brains going to get my money. A man gets stuck in New York. It takes the West to make a man really keen."
The policeman swung his club and took a step or two.
"I'll be on my way. Hope your friend comes around all right. Are you going to leave immediately?"
"I should say not!" said the other. "I'll give him half an hour at least. If Jimmy is alive on earth he'll be here by that time. So long officer."
"Good night, sir," said the policeman, passing on along his beat.
There was now a fine, cold rain falling, and the wind had risen to a steady blow. The few foot passengers in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat collars turned high and pocketed hands. And in the door of the hardware store the man who had come a thousand miles to fill an appointment, with the friend of his youth, smoked his cigar and waited.
About twenty minutes he waited, and then a tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up to his ears, hurried from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.
"Is that you, Bob?" he asked, doubtfully.
"Is that you, Jimmy Wells?" cried the man in the door.
"Bless my heart!" exclaimed the new arrival, grasping both the other's hands with his own. "It's Bob, sure as fate. I was certain I'd find you here if you were still in existence. Well, well, well!—twenty years is a long time. The old restaurant's gone, Bob. I wish it had lasted, so we could have had another dinner there. How has the West treated you, old man?"
"It has given me everything I asked it for. You've changed a lot, Jimmy. I never thought you would get so tall."
"Oh, I grew a bit after I was twenty."
"Doing well in New York, Jimmy?"
"Moderately. I have a position in one of the city departments. Come on, Bob; we'll go around to a place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times."
The two men started up the street, arm in arm.
The man from the West, full of pride at his success, was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other, hidden in the overcoat, listened with interest.
At the corner stood a drugstore, brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this brightness each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other's face.
The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.
"You're not Jimmy Wells," he said sharply. "Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to change the size of a man's nose."
"It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one," said the tall man. "You've been under arrest for ten minutes, 'Silky' Bob. Chicago thinks you may come over our way and telegraphs us she wants to have a chat with you. Going quietly, are you? That's sensible. Now, before we go on to the station here's a note I was asked to hand to you. You may read it here at the window. It's from Policeman Wells."
The man from the West unfolded the little piece of paper handed to him. His hand was steady when he began to read, but it trembled a little by the time he had finished. The note was short. Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar, I saw it was the face of the man wanted in Chicago. Somehow I couldn't do it myself, so I went around and got a plain clothes man to do the job.
参考译文——二十年后
二十年后
欧·亨利
正在巡逻的警察精神抖擞地沿着大街走着。他这样引人注目并不奇怪，并不是为了炫耀，因为此时大街上根本没什么观众。时间还不到晚上10点钟，但夹带着雨意的阵阵冷风几乎清空了街道。
警察边走边检查门是否都关好了，他十分灵巧地不停转动着警棍，目光还不时投向宁静的街道。他那魁梧的身材，配着点儿卓越不凡的气势，正是一副治安维持者的形象。那个地区的人晚上休息得很早。你偶尔还能看到一家雪茄店或是昼夜营业的饭馆还亮着灯，但是绝大多数店铺都已经关门了。
在一个街区的半路上，警察忽然放慢了脚步。在一家已经关门的五金商店的门廊里，一个男子倚在那里，嘴里叼着一支未点燃的雪茄。当警察朝他走过去时，男人赶忙开口说话了。
“没事儿的，长官，”他坦然地说，“我只是在等一个朋友。这是20年前就定好的约会。听起来有点荒唐，是吧？哦，如果你想确定下我说的话是否是真的，我就说给你听。
大约20年前，这家五金商店所在的位置曾经是一家餐馆——‘大乔’布雷迪餐馆。”
“那家餐馆5年前还在，”警察说道，“后来就被拆除了。”
门廊里的人划着火柴，点着了烟。火光映出了一张苍白的、方正下巴的脸，一双锐利的眼睛，眉毛附近还有一小道泛白的疤痕。他的领带夹上镶着一颗大钻石，镶嵌得十分奇怪。
“20年前的这个晚上，”男子说，“我和吉米·威尔斯在‘大乔’布雷迪餐馆共进晚餐，他是我最好的朋友，也是世界上最好的人。我和他一起在纽约长大，亲如手足。当年，我18岁，吉米20岁。第二天早晨，我就要动身去西部赚钱去了。吉米是无论如何也不会离开纽约的。他认为这是世界上最好的地方。那天晚上我们定好，在20年后的同一天、同一时间，我们要在这里碰面，不管我们的境况如何，也不管我们相隔多远。我们觉得不管怎样，20年后我们的命运也该有个好结果了，该发财的也应该已经发财了。”
“听起来很有意思，”警察说，“尽管在我看来，你们两次见面的时间间隔太长了点。自从你离开后，你就没有收到你朋友的信件吗？”
“哦，有的，有一段时间我们相互通信，”男子说，“可是一两年后我们彼此就失去了联系。你知道，西部是个大地方，而我又忙着东奔西跑。不过我知道，只要吉米还活着，他就会来这儿和我见面的，因为他一直是世界上最忠诚、最好的老朋友。他决不会忘记的。今晚我千里迢迢来到这个门前等他，只要我的老伙计露面，所有这一切都是值得的。”
这位等人男子掏出一块漂亮的怀表，表盖上镶嵌着许多小钻石。
“差3分钟10点，”他说，“我们当时在餐馆的门口分开时正好是10点钟。”
“你在西部闯荡得不错，是吧？ ”警察问道。
“那是当然了！我希望吉米的境况能赶上我的一半就好了。虽然他是个好人，但他是个迟钝的人。为了赚钱，一直以来我不得不和一些头脑最机灵的人较量。在纽约，人难免受到束缚。但在西部生活确实会让人变得机灵。”
警察转了转警棍，走了一两步。
“我要接着巡逻了。希望你的朋友如约而至。你要马上走吗？”
“不会的！”那个男子说，“我至少会再等他半个小时。如果吉米还活在世上，到那时他一定会来的。再见，长官。”
“晚安，先生。”警察说完，沿着他要巡逻的街道走去。
此时下起了冰冷的细雨，寒风也刮个不停.。街道上寥寥无几的行人竖起高高的领子,双手插进衣袋，阴沉着脸默默赶路。从千里之外赶来与年轻时的朋友见面的那个男子在五金商店的门廊里抽着雪茄等候着。
他大约等了 20分钟，这时一个身着长大衣、衣领竖到耳朵的高大男人，匆匆地从街道对面走来。他径直朝那个等候着的男子走去。
“是你吗，鲍勃？”他迟疑地问道。
“是你吗，吉米·威尔斯？”门廊里的男人叫道。
“我的天哪！ ”来人惊叫着，用自己的双手紧紧抓住了对方的双手,“没错，你是鲍勃。我就知道如果你还活着，我就会在这里见到你的。哎呀，20年可不短。这个老餐馆已经没了，鲍勃。真希望它还在，那么我们就又可以在这里吃晚餐了。老朋友，你在西部过得怎么样？ ”
“它给了我想要的一切。你变了很多啊,吉米。我没想到你长这么高了。”
“哦，20岁后我长高了一点。”
“你在纽约过得还不错吧，吉米？ ”
“马马虎虎。我在某个市政部门谋了个职位。来吧，鲍勃，我知道个地方，我们可以去那儿叙叙旧。”
两个人挽着胳膊朝街上走去。
西部来的男子充满了成功的骄傲，开始描述自己的创业史。另一个人缩在大衣里，饶有兴趣地听着。
街角处有家药店，灯火通明。当他们来到亮处时，两个人不约而同地盯着对方的脸。
西部来的男人突然停下脚步，抽出自己的手臂。
“你不是吉米·威尔斯，”他厉声说道，“20年的时间不短，但也不足以改变一个人的鼻子的大小。”
“但有时它却能把一个好人变成坏人，”高个子男人说。“你10分钟前已经被捕了，‘滑头’鲍勃。芝加哥警方已经觉察到你可能到我们这里来了，发电报告诉我们说想和你谈谈。你会乖乖和我走，对吧？这才是明智的。现在,在我们去警察局之前，有人要我给你捎了张条。你可以站在窗边看。这是威尔斯警官写给你的。”
西部来的男人打开了交给他的那张小纸条。当他开始读时，他的手还拿得稳，但是当他读完时，他的手微微颤抖。纸条上的话很短。“鲍勃：我准时到了约定的地点。当你划着火柴点着雪茄的时候,我看到那正是芝加哥警方通缉的罪犯的脸。不管怎么样，我自己下不了手，所以我找了个便衣同事来完成这项任务。”
Key Words:
spoke [spəuk]
v. 说，说话，演说
doorway ['dɔ:wei]
n. 门口
slight [slait]
adj. 轻微的，微小的，纤细的，脆弱的
block [blɔk]
n. 街区，木块，石块
n. 阻塞(物), 障
peaceful ['pi:sfəl]
adj. 安宁的，和平的
guardian ['gɑ:diən]
n. 保护人，监护人
cast [kɑ:st]
v. 投，掷，抛，铸造，丢弃，指定演员，加起来，投射(目
superiority [sju.piəri'ɔriti]
n. 优越性，优势
beat [bi:t]
v. 打败，战胜，打，敲打，跳动
n. 敲打，
majority [mə'dʒɔriti]
n. 多数，大多数，多数党，多数派
diamond ['daiəmənd]
n. 钻石，像钻石的物质，菱形，纸牌的方块，棒球内场
fortune ['fɔ:tʃən]
n. 财产，命运，运气
eyebrow ['aibrau]
n. 眉毛，[建]窗头线饰
scar [skɑ:]
n. 疤痕，伤痕，断崖
v. 结疤，使 ...
doorway ['dɔ:wei]
n. 门口
haven ['heivn]
n. 港口，避难所，安息所 v. 安置 ... 于港中，
keen [ki:n]
adj. 锋利的，敏锐的，强烈的，精明的，热衷的
announced [ə'naunst]
宣布的
keen [ki:n]
adj. 锋利的，敏锐的，强烈的，精明的，热衷的 <
minutes ['minits]
n. 会议记录，(复数)分钟
compete [kəm'pi:t]
vi. 竞争，对抗，比赛
track [træk]
n. 小路，跑道，踪迹，轨道，乐曲
v. 跟踪
lively ['laivli]
活泼的，活跃的，栩栩如生的，真实的
partner ['pɑ:tnə]
n. 搭档，伙伴，合伙人
steady ['stedi]
adj. 稳定的，稳固的，坚定的
v. 使稳固
beat [bi:t]
v. 打败，战胜，打，敲打，跳动
n. 敲打，
collar ['kɔlə]
n. 衣领，项圈，[机]轴环
vt. 抓住，为
certain ['sə:tn]
adj. 确定的，必然的，特定的
minutes ['minits]
n. 会议记录，(复数)分钟
grasping ['grɑ:spiŋ]
adj. 贪心的，贪婪的 adj. 抓的，紧紧抓住的
pride [praid]
n. 自豪，骄傲，引以自豪的东西，自尊心
arrest [ə'rest]
vt. 逮捕，拘留
n. 逮捕，拘留
steady ['stedi]
adj. 稳定的，稳固的，坚定的
v. 使稳固
outline ['əutlain]
n. 轮廓，大纲
vt. 概述，画出轮廓
minutes ['minits]
n. 会议记录，(复数)分钟
sensible ['sensəbl]
adj. 可察觉的，意识到的，实用的
plain [plein]
n. 平原，草原
adj. 清楚的，坦白的，简
brilliant ['briljənt]
adj. 卓越的，光辉的，灿烂的
n. 宝石
simultaneously [saiməl'teiniəsli]
adv. 同时地(联立地)
参考资料：