ian fleming.casino royale-第19部分

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　He　had　nothing　but　a　few　more　bruises　to　show　for　his　clumsy　gesture　of　resistance　to　these　people。
　As　he　preceded　the　thin　man　over　the　threshold　he　knew　that　was　utterly　and　absolutely　in　their　power。
　
　
　CHAPTER　17　…　'MY　DEAR　BOY'
　It　was　a　large　bare　room；　sparsely　furnished　in　cheap　French　art　nouveau　style。　It　was　difficult　to　say　whether　it　was　intended　as　a　living…　or　dining…room　for　a　flimsy…looking　mirrored　sideboard；　sporting　an　orange　crackle…ware　fruit　dish　and　two　painted　wooden　candlesticks；　took　up　most　of　the　wall　opposite　the　door　and　contradicted　the　faded　pink　sofa　ranged　against　the　other　side　of　the　room。
　There　was　no　table　in　the　centre　under　the　alabasterine　ceiling　light；　only　a　small　square　of　stained　carpet　with　a　futurist　design　in　contrasting　browns。
　Over　by　the　window　was　an　incongruous…looking　throne…like　chair　in　carved　oak　with　a　red　velvet　seat；　a　low　table　on　which　stood　an　empty　water　carafe　and　two　glasses；　and　a　light　arm…chair　with　a　round　cane　seat　and　no　cushion。
　Half…closed　Venetian　blinds　obscured　the　view　from　the　window；　but　cast　bars　of　early　sunlight　over　the　few　pieces　of　furniture　and　over　part　of　the　brightly　papered　wall　and　the　brown　stained　floorboards。
　Le　Chiffre　pointed　at　the　cane　chair。
　'That　will　do　excellently；'　he　said　to　the　thin　man。　'Prepare　him　quickly。　If　he　resists；　damage　him　only　a　little。'
　He　turned　to　Bond。　There　was　no　expression　on　his　large　face　and　his　round　eyes　were　uninterested。　'Take　off　your　clothes。　For　every　effort　to　resist；　Basil　will　break　one　of　your　fingers。　We　are　serious　people　and　your　good　health　is　of　no　interest　to　us。　Whether　you　live　or　die　depends　on　the　oute　of　the　talk　we　are　about　to　have。'
　He　made　a　gesture　towards　the　thin　man　and　left　the　room。
　The　thin　man's　first　action　was　a　curious　one。　He　opened　the　clasp…knife　he　had　used　on　the　hood　of　Bond's　car；　took　the　small　arm…chair　and　with　a　swift　motion　he　cut　out　its　cane　seat。
　Then　he　came　back　to　Bond；　sticking　the　still　open　knife；　like　a　fountain…pen；　in　the　vest　pocket　of　his　coat。　He　turned　Bond　round　to　the　light　and　unwound　the　flex　from　his　wrists。　Then　he　stood　quickly　aside　and　the　knife　was　back　in　his　right　hand。
　'Vite。'
　Bond　stood　chafing　his　swollen　wrists　and　debating　with　himself　how　much　time　he　could　waste　by　resisting。　He　only　delayed　an　instant。　With　a　swift　step　and　a　downward　sweep　of　his　free　hand；　the　thin　man　seized　the　collar　of　his　dinner…jacket　and　dragged　it　down；　pinning　Bond's　arms　back。　Bond　made　the　traditional　counter　to　this　old　policeman's　hold　by　dropping　down　on　one　knee；　but　as　he　dropped　the　thin　man　dropped　with　him　and　at　the　same　time　brought　his　knife　round　and　down　behind　Bond's　back。　Bond　felt　the　back　of　the　blade　pass　down　his　spine。　There　was　the　hiss　of　a　sharp　knife　through　cloth　and　his　arms　were　suddenly　free　as　the　two　halves　of　his　coat　fell　forward。
　He　cursed　and　stood　up。　The　thin　man　was　back　in　his　previous　position；　his　knife　again　at　the　ready　in　his　relaxed　hand。　Bond　let　the　two　halves　of　his　dinner…jacket　fall　off　his　arms　on　to　the　floor。
　'Allez；'　said　the　thin　man　with　a　faint　trace　of　impatience。　Bond　looked　him　in　the　eye　and　then　slowly　started　to　take　off　his　shirt。
　Le　Chiffre　came　quietly　back　into　the　room。　He　carried　a　pot　of　what　smelt　like　coffee。　He　put　it　on　the　small　table　near　the　window。　He　also　placed　beside　it　on　the　table　two　other　homely　objects；　a　three…foot…long　carpet…beater　in　twisted　cane　and　a　carving　knife。
　He　settled　himself　fortably　on　the　throne…like　chair　and　poured　some　of　the　coffee　into　one　of　the　glasses。　With　one　foot　he　hooked　forward　the　small　arm…chair；　whose　seat　was　now　an　empty　circular　frame　of　wood；　until　it　was　directly　opposite　him。
　Bond　stood　stark　naked　in　the　middle　of　the　room；　bruises　showing　livid　on　his　white　body；　his　face　a　grey　mask　of　exhaustion　and　knowledge　of　what　was　to　e。
　'Sit　down　there。'　Le　Chiffre　nodded　at　the　chair　in　front　of　him。
　Bond　walked　over　and　sat　down。
　The　thin　man　produced　some　flex。　With　this　he　bound　Bond's　wrists　to　the　arms　of　the　chair　and　his　ankles　to　the　front　legs。　He　passed　a　double　strand　across　his　chest；　under　the　arm…pits　and　through　the　chair…back。　He　made　no　mistakes　with　the　knots　and　left　no　play　in　any　of　the　bindings。　All　of　them　bit　sharply　into　Bond's　flesh。　The　legs　of　the　chair　were　broadly　spaced　and　Bond　could　not　even　rock　it。
　He　was　utterly　a　prisoner；　naked　and　defenceless。
　His　buttocks　and　the　underpart　of　his　body　protruded　through　the　seat　of　the　chair　towards　the　floor。
　Le　Chiffre　nodded　to　the　thin　man　who　quietly　left　the　room　and　closed　the　door。
　There　was　a　packet　of　Gauloises　on　the　table　and　a　lighter。　Le　Chiffre　lit　a　cigarette　and　swallowed　a　mouthful　of　coffee　from　the　glass。　Then　he　picked　up　the　cane　carpet…beater　and；　resting　the　handle　fortably　on　his　knee；　allowed　the　flat　trefoil　base　to　lie　on　the　floor　directly　under　Bond's　chair。
　He　looked　Bond　carefully；　almost　caressingly；　in　the　eyes。　Then　his　wrists　sprang　suddenly　upwards　on　his　knee。
　The　result　was　startling。
　Bond's　whole　body　arched　in　an　involuntary　spasm。　His　face　contracted　in　a　soundless　scream　and　his　lips　drew　right　away　from　his　teeth。　At　the　same　time　his　head　flew　back　with　a　jerk　showing　the　taut　sinews　of　his　neck。　For　an　instant；　muscles　stood　out　in　knots　all　over　his　body　and　his　toes　and　fingers　clenched　until　they　were　quite　white。　Then　his　body　sagged　and　perspiration　started　to　bead　all　over　his　body。　He　uttered　a　deep　groan。
　Le　Chiffre　waited　for　his　eyes　to　open。
　'You　see；　dear　boy？'　He　smiled　a　soft；　fat　smile。　'Is　the　position　quite　clear　now？'
　A　drop　of　sweat　fell　off　Bond's　chin　on　to　his　naked　chest。
　'Now　let　us　get　down　to　business　and　see　how　soon　we　can　be　finished　with　this　unfortunate　mess　you　have　got　yourself　into。'　He　puffed　cheerfully　at　his　cigarette　and　gave　an　admonitory　tap　on　the　floor　beneath　Bond's　chair　with　his　horrible　and　incongruous　instrument。
　'My　dear　boy；'　Le　Chiffre　spoke　like　a　father；　'the　game　of　Red　Indians　is　over；　quite　over。　You　have　stumbled　by　mischance　into　a　game　for　grown…ups　and　you　have　already　found　it　a　painful　experience。　You　are　not　equipped；　my　dear　boy；　to　play　games　with　adults　and　it　was　very　foolish　of　your　nanny　in　London　to　have　sent　you　out　here　with　your　spade　and　bucket。　Very　foolish　indeed　and　most　unfortunate　for　you。
　'But　we　must　stop　joking；　my　dear　fellow；　although　I　am　sure　you　would　like　to　follow　me　in　developing　this　amusing　little　cautionary　tale。'
　He　suddenly　dropped　his　bantering　tone　and　looked　at　Bond　sharply　and　venomously。
　'Where　is　the　money？'
　Bond's　bloodshot　eyes　looked　emptily　back　at　him。
　Again　the　upward　jerk　of　the　wrist　and　again　Bond's　whole　body　writhed　and　contorted。
　Le　Chiffre　waited　until　the　tortured　heart　eased　down　its　laboured　pumping　and　until　Bond's　eyes　dully　opened　again。
　'Perhaps　I　should　explain；'　said　Le　Chiffre。　'I　intend　to　continue　attacking　the　sensitive　parts　of　your　body　until　you　answer　my　question。　I　am　without　mercy　and　there　will　be　no　relenting。　There　is　no　one　to　stage　a　last…minute　rescue　and　there　is　no　possibility　of　escape　for　you。　This　is　not　a　romantic　adventure　story　in　which　the　villain　is　finally　routed　and　the　hero　is　given　a　medal　and　marries　the　girl。　Unfortunately　these　things　don't　happen　in　real　life。　If　you　continue　to　be　obstinate；　you　will　be　tortured　to　the　edge　of　madness　and　then　the　girl　will　be　brought　in　and　we　will　set　about　her　in　front　of　you。　If　that　is　still　not　enough；　you　will　both　be　painfully　killed　and　I　shall　reluctantly　leave　your　bodies　and　make　my　way　abroad　to　a　fortable　house　which　is　waiting　for　me。　There　I　shall　take　up　a　useful　and　profitable　career　and　live　to　a　ripe　and　peaceful　old　age　in　the　bosom　of　the　family　I　shall　doubtless　create。　So　you　see；　my　dear　boy；　that　I　stand　to　lose　nothing。　If　you　hand　the　money　over；　so　much　the　better。　If　not；　I　shall　shrug　my　shoulders　and　be　on　my　way。'
　He　paused；　and　his　wrist　lifted　slightly　on　his　knee。　Bond's　flesh　cringed　as　the　cane　surface　just　touched　him。
　'But　you；　my　dear　fellow；　can　only　hope　that　I　shall　spare　you　further　pain　and　spare　your　life。　There　is　no　other　hope　for　you　but　that。　Absolutely　none。'
　'Well？'
　Bond　closed　his　eyes　and　waited　for　the　pain。　He　knew　that　the　beginning　of　torture　is　the　worst。　There　is　a　parabola　of　agony。　A　crescendo　leading　up　to　a　peak　and　then　the　nerves　are　blunted　and　react　progressively　less　until　unconsciousness　and　death。　All　he　could　do　was　to　pray　for　the　peak；　pray　that　his　spirit　would　hold　out　so　long　and　then　accept　the　long　free…wheel　down　to　the　final　black…out。
　He　had　been　told　by　colleagues　who　had　survived　torture　by　the　Germans　and　the　Japanese　that　towards　the　end　there　came　a　wonderful　period　of　warmth　and　languor　leading　into　a　sort　of　sexual　twilight　where　pain　turned　to　pleasure　and　where　hatred　and　fear　of　the　torturers　turned　to　a　masochistic　infatuation。　It　was　the　supreme　test　of　will；　he　had　learnt；　to　avoid　showing　this　form　of　punch…drunkenness。　Directly　it　was　suspected　they　would　either　kill　you　at　once　and　save