猴爪 The Monkeys Paw

W.W.雅各布斯/W.W.Jacobs

W.W.雅各布斯（W.W.Jacobs，1863—1943），英国小说家，生于伦敦，毕业于伯克拜克大学。他是一个多产的小说家，写过大量的讽刺小说和恐怖小说。其中最著名的恐怖小说是《猴爪》（1901），曾被多次改编为电影和剧本，斯蒂芬·金的小说《宠物公墓》深受其影响。

I

Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fre.

“Hark at the wind，”said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it.

“Im listening，”said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he stretched out his hand.“Check.”

“I should hardly think that hed come tonight，”said his father, with his hand poised over the board.

“Mate，”replied the son.

“Thats the worst of living so far out，”bawled Mr. White, with sudden and unlooked-for violence；“of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway‘s a bog, and the road’s a torrent. I don‘t know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses on the road are let, they think it doesn’t matter.”

“Never mind, dear，”said his wife soothingly；“perhaps youll win the next one.”

Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a guilty grin in his thin grey beard.

“There he is，”said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy footsteps came toward the door.

The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with himself, so that Mrs. White said，“Tut, tut！”and coughed gently as her husband entered the room, followed by a tall burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage.

“Sergeant-Major Morris，”he said, introducing him.

The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whisky and tumblers and stood a small copper kettle on the fre.

At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of strange scenes and doughty deeds；of wars and plagues and strangepeoples.

“Twenty-one years of it，”said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son.“When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look at him.”

“He dont look to have taken much harm，”said Mrs. White, politely.

“Id like to go to India myself，”said the old man，“just to look round a bit, you know.”

“Better where you are，”said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.

“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers，”said the old man.“What was that you started telling me the other day about a monkeys paw or something, Morris?”

“Nothing，”said the soldier hastily.“Leastways, nothing worth hearing.”

“Monkeys paw?”said Mrs. White curiously.

“Well, its just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps，”said the sergeant-major off-handedly.

His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absentmindedly put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host flled it for him.

“To look at，”said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket，“its just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy.”

He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.

“And what is there special about it?”inquired Mr. White, as he took it from his son and, having examined it, placed it upon the table.

“It had a spell put on it by an old fakir，”said the sergeant-major，“a very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled peoples lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it.”

His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their light laughter jarred somewhat.

“Well, why dont you have three, sir?”said Herbert White cleverly.

The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard presumptuous youth.“I have，”he said quietly, and his blotchy face whitened.

“And did you really have the three wishes granted?”asked Mrs. White.

“I did，”said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his strong teeth.

“And has anybody else wished?”inquired the old lady.

“The frst man had his three wishes, yes，”was the reply.“I don‘t know what the frst two were, but the third was for death. That’s how I got the paw.”

His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.

“If you‘ve had your three wishes, it’s no good to you now, then, Morris，”said the old man at last.“What do you keep it for?”

The soldier shook his head.“Fancy, I suppose，”he said slowly.

“If you could have another three wishes，”said the old man, eyeing him keenly，“would you have them?”

“I dont know，”said the other.“I dont know.”

He took the paw, and dangling it between his front finger and thumb, suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down and snatched it off.

“Better let it burn，”said the soldier solemnly.

“If you dont want it, Morris，”said the old man，“give it to me.”

“I wont，”said his friend doggedly.“I threw it on the fre. If you keep it, dont blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fre again, like a sensible man.”

The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely.“How do you do it?”he inquired.

“Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud，”said the sergeant-major，“but I warn you of the consequences.”

“Sounds like the Arabian Nights，”said Mrs. White, as she rose and began to set the supper.“Dont you think you might wish for four pairs of hands for me?”

Her husband drew the talisman from his pocket and then all three burst into laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught him by the arm.

“If you must wish，”he said gruffly，“wish for something sensible.”

Mr. White dropped it back into his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was partly forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion to a second instalment of the soldiers adventures in India.

“If the tale about the monkey paw is not more truthful than those he has been telling us，”said Herbert, as the door closed behind their guest, just in time for him to catch the last train，“we shant make much out of it.”

“Did you give him anything for it, father?”inquired Mrs. White, regarding her husband closely.

“A trife，”said he, colouring slightly.“He didnt want it, but Imade him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away.”

“Likely，”said Herbert, with pretended horror.“Why, we‘re going to be rich, and famous, and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin with；then you can’t be henpecked.”

He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with an antimacassar.

Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously.“I don‘t know what to wish for, and that’s a fact，”he said slowly.“It seems to me Ive got all I want.”

“If you only cleared the house, you‘d be quite happy, wouldn’t you?”said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder.“Well, wish for two hundred pounds, then；thatll just do it.”

His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the talisman, as his son, with a solemn face somewhat marred by a wink at his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.

“I wish for two hundred pounds，”said the old man distinctly.

A fne crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him.

“It moved，”he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on the foor.“As I wished it twisted in my hands like a snake.”

“Well, I dont see the money，”said his son, as he picked it up and placed it on the table，“and I bet I never shall.”

“It must have been your fancy, father，”said his wife, regarding him anxiously.

He shook his head.“Never mind, though；theres no harm done, but it gave me a shock all the same.”

They sat down by the fre again while the two men fnished their pipes. Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusualand depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old couple rose to retire for the night.

“I expect youll fnd the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your bed，”said Herbert, as he bade them good night，“and something horrible squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your ill-gotten gains.”

He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fre, and seeing faces in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it in amazement. It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw over it. His hand grasped the monkeys paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed.

II

In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the breakfast table Herbert laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.

“I suppose all old soldiers are the same，”said Mrs White.“The idea of our listening to such nonsense！How could wishes be granted in these days?And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?”

“Might drop on his head from the sky，”said the frivolous Herbert.

“Morris said the things happened so naturally，”said his father，“that you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence.”

“Well, dont break into the money before I come back，”saidHerbert, as he rose from the table.“I‘m afraid it’ll turn you into a mean, avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you.”

His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the road, and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense of her husband‘s credulity. All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to the door at the postman’s knock, nor prevent her from referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought a tailors bill.

“Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he comes home，”she said, as they sat at dinner.

“I dare say，”said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer；“but for all that, the thing moved in my hand；that Ill swear to.”

“You thought it did，”said the old lady soothingly.

“I say it did，”replied the other.“There was no thought about it；I had just-Whats the matter?”

His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connection with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed and wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution fung it open and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.

She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husbandscoat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he was at frst strangely silent.

“I-was asked to call，”he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece of cotton from his trousers.“I come from Maw and Meggins.”

The old lady started.“Is anything the matter?”she asked breathlessly.“Has anything happened to Herbert?What is it?What is it?”

Her husband interposed.“There, there, mother，”he said hastily.“Sit down, and don‘t jump to conclusions. You’ve not brought bad news, Im sure, sir.”and he eyed the other wistfully.

“Im sorry……”began the visitor.

“Is he hurt?”demanded the mother.

The visitor bowed in assent.“Badly hurt，”he said quietly，“but he is not in any pain.”

“Oh, thank God！”said the old woman, clasping her hands.“Thank God for that！Thank……”

She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her and she saw the awful confrmation of her fears in the others averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence.

“He was caught in the machinery，”said the visitor at length, in a low voice.

“Caught in the machinery，”repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion，“yes.”

He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wifes hand between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old courting days nearly forty years before.

“He was the only one left to us，”he said, turning gently to the visitor.“It is hard.”

The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window.“The firm wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss，”he said, without looking round.“I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and merely obeying orders.”

There was no reply；the old woman‘s face was white, her eyes staring, and her breath inaudible；on the husband’s face was a look such as his friend the sergeant might have carried into his frst action.

“I was to say that Maw and Meggins disclaim all responsibility，”continued the other.“They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your sons services they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation.”

Mr. White dropped his wifes hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words，“How much?”

“Two hundred pounds，”was the answer.

Unconscious of his wifes shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the foor.

III

In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It was all over so quickly that at frst they could hardly realize it, and remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to happen-something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts to bear.

But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation-the hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and their days were long to weariness.

It was about a week after that that the old man, waking suddenly in the night, stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He raised himself in bed and listened.

“Come back，”he said tenderly.“You will be cold.”

“It is colder for my son，”said the old woman, and wept afresh.

The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed ftfully, and then slept until a sudden wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start.

“The paw！”she cried wildly.“The monkeys paw！”

He started up in alarm.“Where?Where is it?Whats the matter?”

She came stumbling across the room toward him.“I want it，”she said quietly.“Youve not destroyed it?”

“Its in the parlour, on the bracket，”he replied, marvelling.“Why?”

She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.

“I only just thought of it，”she said hysterically.“Why didn‘t I think of it before?Why didn’t you think of it?”

“Think of what?”he questioned.

“The other two wishes，”she replied rapidly.“Weve only had one.”

“Was not that enough?”he demanded fercely.

“No，”she cried, triumphantly，“well have one more. Go down and get it quickly, and wish our boy alive again.”

The man sat up in bed and fung the bedclothes from his quakinglimbs.“Good God, you are mad！”he cried aghast.

“Get it，”she panted，“get it quickly, and wish-Oh, my boy, my boy！”

Her husband struck a match and lit the candle.“Get back to bed，”he said, unsteadily.“You dont know what you are saying.”

“We had the frst wish granted，”said the old woman, feverishly，“why not the second.”

“A coincidence，”stammered the old man.

“Go and get it and wish，”cried the old woman, quivering with excitement.

The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook.“He has been dead ten days, and besides he-I would not tell you else, but-I could only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to see then, how now?”

“Bring him back，”cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door.“Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?”

He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then to the mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his hand.

Even his wifes face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was white and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it. He was afraid of her.

“Wish！”she cried, in a strong voice.

“It is foolish and wicked，”he faltered.

“Wish！”repeated his wife.

He raised his hand.“I wish my son alive again.”

The talisman fell to the foor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked to the window and raised the blind.

He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle end, which had burnt below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker larger than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable sense of relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed, and a minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically beside him.

Neither spoke, but both lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, the husband took the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle.

At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another, and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.

The matches fell from his hand. He stood motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. A third knock sounded through the house.

“Whats that?”cried the old woman, starting up.

“A rat，”said the old man, in shaking tones-“a rat. It passed me on the stairs.”

His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded throughthe house.

“Its Herbert！”she screamed.“Its Herbert！”

She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by the arm, held her tightly.

“What are you going to do?”he whispered hoarsely.

“It‘s my boy；it’s Herbert！”she cried, struggling mechanically.“I forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for?Let go. I must open the door.”

“For God‘s sake, don’t let it in，”cried the old man trembling.

“Youre afraid of your own son，”she cried, struggling.“Let me go. I‘m coming, Herbert；I’m coming.”

There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden wrench broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the landing, and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He heard the chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the socket. Then the old womans voice, strained and panting.

“The bolt，”she cried loudly.“Come down. I cant reach it.”

But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the foor in search of the paw. If he could only fnd it before the thing outside got in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly back, and at the same moment he found the monkeys paw, and frantically breathed his third and last wish.

The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the house. He heard the chair drawn back and the door opened. A cold wind rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and misery from his wife gave him courage torun down to her side, and then to the gate beyond. The street lamp fickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road.

一

这是一个阴冷的夜晚，但是在拉波诺姆·维拉镇的一间拉着窗帘的小客厅里，炉火正旺，父亲和儿子正在下棋。由于父亲误将王放到一个不必要的危险境地，棋局形势逆转，就连在火炉边静静织毛衣的白发老太太也过来评论了。

“听这风声，”怀特先生说，他看着这一步错棋导致满盘皆输的形势，试图用亲昵来转移儿子的注意力，不让他发现。

“我正听着呢。”儿子说道，冷冷地看着棋盘，伸出手，“将！”

“我实在不相信他今晚会来。”父亲说着，泰然自若地手把放在棋盘上方。

“将！”儿子又说。

“住得这么偏远真是糟糕极了。”怀特先生突然出人意料地发作起来。“在所有住过的荒芜、泥泞、偏僻的地方中，这里是最糟的。院里的小路像个泥塘，而外面的大路就是一条洪流。真不知道人们是怎么想的，我看哪，因为路边只有两座房子是提供出租的了，所以他们认为没有关系吧。”

“没关系，亲爱的。”他的妻子安慰道，“或许下一盘你就会赢的。”

怀特先生猛地抬起头，恰好看到母子互递眼色。他不好意思说下去了，那稀疏的灰胡须中隐藏着心虚的笑。

“他来了。”赫伯特·怀特说道。同时，大门“砰”地一声关上了，紧跟着，有沉重的脚步走近屋门口。

老头怀特急忙殷勤地站起来，打开门，向刚到的客人表示欢迎，来人也问候了他。当一个高大结实、眼睛炯炯有神、面色红润的男子跟着她丈夫走进屋子里，怀特太太不禁发出“啧啧”声，并轻轻咳嗽着。

“军士长莫里斯。”怀特先生向家人介绍着来客。

军士长和他们握了握手，就坐到火炉边的椅子上了，满意地看着大家。这时，主人拿出了威士忌和酒杯，火炉上还有一个黄铜小水壶。

三杯酒后，莫里斯的眼睛更明亮了，他开始侃侃而谈，一家人满怀热情、兴致勃勃地注视着这位远道而来的客人。他在椅子上挺了挺宽阔的肩膀，便说起了那些奇异的景观和英勇的事迹、战争和瘟疫，还有稀奇古怪的民族。

“21年了，”怀特先生说着，向他的妻子和儿子点点头，“他走的时候还只是货栈里一个又瘦又高的小伙子，现在，你再看看他！”

“他看上去没受多少罪。”怀特太太礼貌地说。

“我真想去趟印度。”老头说，“就去那儿看看，你知道的。”

“还是你们这儿好。”军士长说，他摇摇头，放下空玻璃杯，轻声叹了口气，又摇摇头。

“我想看看那些古老的寺院、托钵僧和杂耍师。”老头说，“那天你跟我说的关于一只猴爪还是什么的，是怎么回事呀，莫里斯？”

“没什么，”那个军人慌忙地说，“没有什么可听的。”

“猴爪？”怀特太太好奇地问。

“噢！就是你们或许会称作巫术的东西。”军士长立即说。

他的三位听众都向他这边靠了过来，眼睛里全都透着渴望。他茫然地将空杯放到嘴边，又放下。主人马上为他斟满。

“看看吧，”军士长说，在衣袋里摸索着，“只不过是一只普通的小爪子，都干瘪了。”

他从衣袋里掏出一个东西向前一递，怀特太太立刻厌嫌地缩回身子，但他的儿子接了过来，好奇而仔细地看起来。

“有什么奇特之处吗？”怀特先生一边问，一边从儿子的手里拿过来，仔细看了看，然后把它放在了桌子上。

“一个托钵僧在它上面施了一道咒语，”军士长说，“一个真正的圣人，他想告诉我们，命运主宰着人们的生活，而那些妨碍它的人只会痛苦万分。他将一道咒语施在这个上面，能让三个不同的人用它实现各自的三个心愿。”

他的神态是那样威严，以至于他的听众意识到，自己的轻笑声有点儿刺耳。

“那么，你自己为什么不许三个心愿呢，先生？”赫伯特·怀特问道。

军人用中年人看那些自以为是的年轻人的惯常目光注视着他。“我许了。”他平静地说，布满斑点的脸色霎时变得苍白。

“那你真的实现了那三个心愿？”怀特太太问。

“是的。”军士长说，杯子碰到了他坚硬的牙齿。

“有没有其他人许过心愿？”老太太问道。

“是的，第一个人提了他的三个心愿，”他答道，“我不知他许的前两个愿望是什么，但第三个是求死，而我就因此得到了这只爪子。”

他的语调很沉重，大家沉默不语。

最后，老头开口说道：“既然你实现了三个心愿，那它现在对你就毫无用处了。那么，莫里斯，你还留着它做什么？”

军人摇了摇头，“大概是我对它还存有幻想吧。”他慢慢地说。

“如果你再许三个心愿，”老头眼睛渴望地望着他，说道“还能不能兑现？”

“我不知道。”军人说，“我不知道。”

他拿起这只爪子，将它悬**在食指与拇指之间，突然，他把它扔到了火炉里。怀特轻声叫了一下，俯身抢了出来。

“最好把它烧了。”军士长严肃地说。

“如果你不想要，莫里斯，”怀特先生说，“就给我吧。”

“不行。”他的朋友坚决地说，“我已经把它扔到火里了。如果你想要它，以后发生什么事就别怪我。做个聪明人，把它扔回火里吧。”

老头摇摇头，非常仔细地看着新得到的东西，“怎么使用它呢？”他询问道。

“用右手举着它，并大声地说出你的心愿。”军士长说，“但我警告你，后果自负。”

“听上去就像《天方夜谭》。”怀特太太说着，便站起来去准备晚饭，“难道你不认为应该许愿让我长四双手吗？”

她的丈夫把这个神物从口袋里掏出来。军士长的脸上流露出惊恐的神色，抓住他的手臂。一家三口突然大笑起来。

“如果你一定要提心愿，”他粗声粗气地说，“就提些明智的。”

怀特先生把它放回衣袋里，摆好坐椅，示意他的朋友去桌边。吃晚饭时，那神物几乎被他们遗忘了，后来三位听众又沉迷于军士长在印度探险的第二个故事中了。

为了赶上最后一班火车，客人告辞了。赫伯特关上门，说：“如果猴爪的故事还没有他告诉我们的其他事情真实，那么我们就不会凭它得到什么。”

“他爸，为了得到这个猴爪，你给他什么东西了？”怀特太太紧盯着她的丈夫，问道。

“一点儿小意思，”他说，脸有些红。“他不要，我让他拿着。他又坚持让我扔掉那东西。”

“很可信。”赫伯特说，假装恐惧。“我们为什么不能拥有富贵、名望和幸福呢？爸爸，祈求当皇帝吧，开始吧，那样你就不会再害怕妈妈了。”

他绕着桌子飞奔，被惹怒了的怀特太太拿着一个沙发套在他后面追赶着。

怀特先生从衣袋里拿出猴爪，怀疑地看了看它。“我不知道许什么心愿，也不知道那些话是不是真的，”他慢慢地说，“对我来说，我似乎已经得到所有想要的东西了。”

“如果你还清房贷了，你会很高兴的，不是吗？”赫伯特说，把手搁在他的肩上。“好吧，就许愿要200英镑，看是否会实现。”

他的父亲因自己的轻信而惭愧地微笑着，于是举起那个神物。他的儿子脸色庄严，但这种庄严很快就被他向母亲眨眼的表情破坏了。怀特太太正坐在钢琴旁，弹出几个激动的和音。

“我要200英镑。”老头清清楚楚地说。

一串动听的音符随着这句话从钢琴里传来，却突然被老头毛骨悚然的一声大叫打断了。他的妻子和儿子向他跑去。

“它动了！”他叫道，厌恶地瞟了一眼地上的那个东西。“当我许愿时，它在我的手里像蛇一样扭动。”

“啊，但我没看到钱啊。”他儿子说，捡起它放到桌上，“我打赌我永远都不会看到。”

“那是你的幻觉，他爸。”他的妻子说道，不安地看着他。

他摇摇头：“不要紧。没受什么伤，不过，我还是吓了一跳。”

他们重新在火炉边坐下，两个男人抽完了他们的烟斗。外面的风比先前更猛了，楼上的一扇门“砰”地一声关上，老头开始紧张起来。一种不寻常的静寂和压抑笼罩在三个人的身上，直到老两口起身去睡觉。

“我希望你会发现**有一大袋钱，”赫伯特向他们道晚安时说，“当你们把不义之财装入腰包的时候，可怕的东西就会蹲在衣柜顶上看着。”

他独自一人在黑暗中坐着，盯着渐渐熄灭的炉火，火光中出现了许多张脸孔，最后一张脸特别吓人，很像猿猴，他不禁看愣了。那张脸变得逼真起来，还带着一丝不自在的笑。他在桌上摸着杯子，想用水把火浇灭，手却抓到了那只猴爪，他战栗地在外衣上擦了擦手，上床去了。

二

次日早上，冬天的阳光照射在早餐桌上时，赫伯特为自己的畏惧感到好笑。屋内充满了昨晚没有的寻常而又平安的气息，那个肮脏、枯萎的小爪被漫不经心地放在餐具柜上，预示着没有人相信它的功效。

“我想，所有的老兵都一样。”怀特太太说，“这些胡说八道怎么能相信！短短几天的时间怎么可能让这个愿望变成现实？如果真的实现了，200英镑又怎么会害你呢，他爸？”

“也许会从半空中掉到他的脑袋上。”轻佻的赫伯特说。

“莫里斯说这些事情会自然而然地发生。”他父亲说，“以至于你们还认为祈求的结果不过是一种巧合罢了。”

他的母亲笑了，跟他走到门口。目送他上了路，然后回到早餐桌边，一想到丈夫的轻信，她便开心地笑了起来。但是，这些并没有阻止她在邮差敲门时匆匆跑去开门。当她发现寄来的是一张裁缝的账单时，她也没忘记简短地问及那位嗜酒的退役军士长。

“我想，赫伯特回家时，会说更多俏皮话的。”他们吃午餐时，她说道。

“我敢说，”怀特先生说着，并给自己倒了些啤酒，“尽管如此，那个东西在我的手里真的动了，我敢发誓。”

“你在胡思乱想。”老妇人安慰地说道。

“我说的是真的，”老头子回答道。“不是乱想的。我刚——怎么了？”

他的妻子没有回答他，她正看外面一个神秘的人来回走动，并犹豫地窥视着这间屋子，看上去似乎在努力下决心进屋来似的。她注意到这个陌生人衣着讲究，戴着崭新的有光泽的丝帽，她立刻联想到那200英镑。他在大门口停留了三次，然后又走开了。第四次，他站住，手放在门上，突然下定决心似的推开门，走到院内的小道。怀特太太与此同时也将手伸到身后，匆忙解开围裙带子，把它放在椅垫底下。

她带着陌生人走进屋里。来人看上去似乎心神不宁，他暗暗地盯着她，心事重重地听着老太太为屋内的寒酸、她丈夫的外套以及他平时做园艺时穿的简陋的衣服表示的歉意。然后，她以女性特有的耐心等待他开口说明来意，但从一开始，他就奇怪地保持着沉默。

“我——是受命前来造访的。”他最后终于说道，弯腰从他的裤子上取下一块棉花，“我来自莫乌-麦金斯公司。”

老太太惊声说：“有什么事吗？”她屏住呼吸问道，“赫伯特出事了？什么事？什么事？”

她的丈夫插嘴道：“哎，他妈。”他焦急地说：“坐下，别急于下结论。你没带来坏消息吧，我相信，先生。”他急切地注视着对方。

“我很抱歉——”来人说道。

“他受伤了吗？”母亲焦急地问道。

来人沉默地低下头。“非常严重，”他平静地说，“不过，他没有一点儿痛苦。”

“哦，感谢上帝！”老太太说，双手紧紧握着，“感谢上帝！感谢——”

她一下子明白了这句话的意思，突然停止了说话，而且在对方转开的脸上，她的担心得到了可怕的证实。她感到窒息，转向反应迟钝的丈夫，把颤抖的手放在他的手上。在很长一段时间里，屋子里的三个人都没说话。

“他被卷到机器里了。”来人最后低声说道。

“卷进机器里了。”怀特先生恍惚地重复道，“是的。”

“他是我们唯一的孩子。”他说，轻轻地转向来人，“这太残酷了。”

对方咳嗽着站了起来，慢慢走向窗边。“公司希望我，就你们所遭受的巨大损失向你们转达他们真挚的同情。”他说，并没有观望四周，“我请求你们能理解，我只不过是他们的雇员，仅仅是在服从命令。”

他没有得到任何回应。老太太脸色煞白，眼神发直，似乎都听不见她的呼吸声。而她丈夫的脸色，看上去与他的朋友军士长第一次被送上战场时一样。

“我要说的是—莫乌-麦金斯公司不愿承担任何责任。”对方继续说，“他们认为公司没有任何责任。不过，考虑到你们儿子的贡献，他们想给你们一笔补偿金。”

怀特先生放下妻子的手，站起来，眼神恐怖地盯着来人。他干燥的嘴唇里挤出几个字：“多少钱？”

“200英镑。”对方回答。

老头无力地微笑起来，他似乎没有听到妻子的尖叫。他像盲人一样伸出手，又垂了下来，毫无知觉地倒在地上，地上掉了一堆钱。

三

老两口把他们死去的儿子埋葬在一个大约两英里外的巨大新墓场里，然后回到了阴暗沉寂的屋子。这一切来得太突然了，一开始他们不相信这是真的，依然期待着别的事情发生，从而减轻重负。对年老的心而言，这负担太沉重了。

日子一天天过去，期待渐渐变成绝望，两位老人变得麻木不仁，有时会叫错对方的名字，有时则相对无言，几乎一言不发。因为他们现在没什么可说的，日子漫长得让他们难以忍受。

大约一星期后，一天夜里，老头突然醒来，伸出手，发现那边的床是空的。室内一片漆黑，窗边传来压抑的哭泣声，他从**坐起来倾听着。

“回来吧，”他温和地说，“你会着凉的。”

“儿子会更冷的。”老太太说着，又抽噎起来。

她的哭泣声在他的耳边渐渐消失。床很暖和，睡意使他的眼皮非常沉重。他断断续续地打着盹，直到他妻子突然惊叫一声，发出疯狂的呼喊，他才醒了过来。

“猴爪！”她疯狂地喊道，“那只猴爪！”

他惊恐地抬起身：“哪里？它在哪里？怎么了？”

她跌跌撞撞地穿过房间向他走过来。“我想要它，”她平静地说，“你没毁掉它吧？”

“它在客厅里，在餐具柜上。”他答道，感到惊讶，“你要做什么？”

她悲喜交加，俯身在他的脸颊上吻了一下。

“我刚刚才想到它。”她大声说着，“为什么我以前没想到？为什么你没想到它？”

“想到什么？”他问。

“另外两个心愿。”她迅速地说着，“我们只提了一个。”

“不，”她得意地叫道，“我们还能再提一个。下去，快把它拿来，祈求咱们的儿子复活。”

老头坐在**，四肢发抖地掀开被子。“仁慈的上帝，你疯了！”他惊骇地叫道。

她喘着气，大声说，“快拿过来，祈求上帝——哦，我的孩子，我的孩子！”

她的丈夫划了一根火柴点燃蜡烛。“回到**去。”他有点儿犹豫地说，“你不知道你在说什么。”

“我们的第一个愿望实现了。”老太太兴奋地说，“为什么不提第二个？”

“那不过是巧合！”老头结结巴巴地说道。

“去拿来求呀。”他妻子叫道，激动得颤抖起来。

老头转身注视着她，声音颤抖了：“他已经死了十天了，而且他——我不想告诉你别的——我只能凭借他的衣服认出他。如果他的样子让你觉得很可怕，那该怎么办？”

“带他回来。”老太太叫道，拖他到门口。“你难道以为我会害怕自己养大的孩子？”

他在黑暗中走下楼来，摸索到客厅，再到壁炉。那神物果然在原处。他感到极度恐惧，想到那个未说出的、把他残缺不全的儿子带到面前的愿望，他就恨不得逃出这个屋子。想着想着，他找不到门口的方向了。他呼吸急促，眉上冒着冷汗，感到自己正在绕着桌子兜圈。于是，他摸索着墙走。直到发现自己在小过道里，手里拿着那个讨厌的东西。

他进卧室时，他妻子的脸色好像变了，苍白而又有所期待，似乎以一种异乎寻常的眼光望着那个东西，他有点儿怕她了。

“许愿呀！”她叫道，声音坚决。

“这真是又愚蠢又邪恶！”他颤抖着说道。

“许愿！”他妻子重复道。

他举起手：“我祈求我的儿子复活。”

那个神物掉到地上，他以一种充满恐惧的眼神注视着它，然后战栗着让自己的身体陷进一把椅子里。老太太却两眼通红，走到窗边拉开窗帘。

他坐在那儿，只觉得凉意逼人，时不时地，他也会瞥一眼盯着窗外的老太太的身影。蜡烛已经烧到尽头，火苗在陶瓷烛台的边缘跳动，把影子投在天花板和墙壁上，闪出一个较大的火花之后便熄灭了。本着一种对神物失灵的无可言状的宽慰感，他回到了**。一两分钟后，老太太一言不发地上了床，躺在他身旁。

两个人都没有说话，他们静静地躺着，听着钟的滴答声。楼梯嘎吱一响，一只吱吱叫着的老鼠急匆匆地跑过墙。沉重的黑暗压得人难以喘息，躺了一会儿，他鼓起勇气，拿了一盒火柴，划着一根，下楼去点蜡烛。

走到楼梯脚，火柴熄了，他停下来又划一根。就在这时，从大门口传来一阵敲门声，轻微而又隐秘，几乎无法听见。

“是什么？”老太太惊叫起来，猛然起身。

“一只老鼠。”老头用颤抖的声音说，“一只老鼠，在楼梯上从我的身边跑过。”

他的妻子坐在**听着，又一下重重的敲门声响彻了整座房子。

“是赫伯特！”她尖叫道，“是赫伯特！”

她奔向门口，但她的丈夫已经抢在她的前面，抓住了她的手臂，紧紧抓着她。

“你想干什么？”他声音嘶哑地低声问。

“是我的孩子，是赫伯特！”她叫道，机械地反抗着，“我忘记坟墓离这里有两英里远了，你抓住我干什么？让我去，我一定要开门！”

“看在上帝的份儿上，别让他进来。”老头颤抖地叫道。

“你难道怕自己的儿子？”她叫着，挣扎着，“让我去。我来了，赫伯特，我来了！”

敲门声又响了一下，接着又是一下，老太太突然猛力挣脱，从卧室跑了出去。她丈夫追了几步，恳求地叫着她，她却飞快地冲下楼。他听到链锁嘎啦嘎啦的声音，她正缓慢地、不灵活地从插座中拔门闩。他听到老太太紧张的喘息声。

“门闩，”她嚷着，“你下来，我拉不开！”

但是，她的丈夫这时正手忙脚乱在地板上急急地摸索，寻找那只爪子。他一心想着，如果在外边那个东西进来之前找到它，就能得救了。又一连串猛烈的敲门声回**在整座房子里，他听到链锁的刮擦声，他的妻子正把它从门上拆下来，他还听到门闩正嘎吱作响地慢慢往外移动。正在这时，他发现了猴爪，慌张地喊出他第三个，也是最后一个心愿。

敲门声戛然而止，回声还在屋子里回**，他听到链锁拽掉了，门打开了，一股寒风冲上楼梯，他的妻子发出了一声长长的、失望而又痛苦的哭喊声。妻子的惨叫使他鼓足勇气跑下楼，来到大门外妻子的身旁，却发现四周空****的。他见到的只有对面闪烁的街灯，以及灯光下那条寂静而又荒凉的大路。

知识点

悬疑小说是给读者留下悬念、然后引领读者一步一步地揭开悬念的小说，常常是以推理的形式进行。而与许多悬疑小说的最大区别是，恐怖小说的悬念揭开往往是无法用科学解释的，也就是灵异。而悬疑小说往往把种种无法解释的悬念用科学的方法加以解释。

W词汇笔记

hospitable[h?spit?bl]adj.热情友好的；（环境）舒适的

例 A hospitable waiter taught me some Italian and lent me a book after that.

一位好客的服务员教了我几句意大利语，之后还借给我一本书。

proffer[pr?f?]v.提供；提出；奉献

我同学给了我一些帮助。

glossy[ɡl?si]adj.有光泽的；光滑的

例 This car was glossy black.

这辆车色泽黑亮。

inaudible[in?：d?bl]adj.听不见的；不可闻的

例 The boy fell down, letting out an almost inaudible moan.

这个男孩摔倒了，发出了一声极其微弱的呻吟。

S小试身手

怀特先生猛地抬起头，恰好看到母子俩互递眼色。

译________________________________________

次日早上，冬天的阳光照射在早餐桌上时，赫伯特为自己的畏惧感到好笑。

译________________________________________

有时则相对无言，几乎一言不发，因为他们现在没什么可说的，日子漫长得让他们难以忍受。

译________________________________________

P短语家族

Her husband drew the talisman from his pocket and then all three burst into laughter as the sergeant-major……

burst into laughter：突然大笑

造________________________________________

“Well, dont break into the money before I come back，”said Herbert, as he rose from the table.

break into：闯入；打断；把……分成

造________________________________________