alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第26部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　occasion　when　a　trail　party；　lost　on　the　plateau　with　defective　passes；　had　saved　themselves　by　releasing　several　balloons　in　the　brief　daylight　hours　thereby　enabling　base　to　see　them　and　send　accurate　radio　bearings。
　
　Behind　the　heavy　transport　sled　was　towed　the　empty　dog…sled；　with　the　dogs　on　loose　traces　running　astern　of　it；　all　except　Balto　who　always　ran　free；　coursing　tirelessly　backwards　and　forwards　all　night　long；　one　moment　far　ahead　of　us；　the　next　ranging　out　to　one　side；　the　next　dropping　astern；　like　some　destroyer　circling　a　straggling　convoy　by　night。　When　the　last　of　the　dogs　had　passed　by　him；　Jackstraw　would　run　forward　to　overtake　the　tractor　and　jump　in　alongside　me　once　more。　He　was　as　tireless；　as　immune　to　fatigue；　as　Balto　himself。
　
　The　first　twenty　miles　were　easy。　On　the　way　up　from　the　coast；　over　four　months　previously；　we　had　planted　big　marker　flags　at　intervals　of　half　a　mile。　On　a　night　such　as　this；　with　the　moonlight　flooding　the　ice…cap；　these　trail　flags；　a　bright　luminous　orange　in　colour　and　mounted　on　aluminium　poles　stuck　in　snow　beacons；　were　visible　at　a　great　distance；　with　never　less　than　two　and　sometimes　three　in　sight　at　the　same　time；　the　long　glistening　frost　feathers　stretching　out　from　the　poles　sometimes　twice　the　length　of　the　flags　themselves。　We　counted　twenty…eight　of　these　flags　altogether…about　a　dozen　were　missing…then；　after　a　sudden　dip　in　the　land；　pletely　lost　them：　whether　they　had　blown　away　or　just　drifted　under　it　was　impossible　to　say。
　
　〃Well；　there　it　is；　Jackstraw；〃　I　said　resignedly。　〃This　is　where　one　of　us　starts　getting　cold。　Really　cold。〃
　
　〃We've　been　cold　before；　Dr　Mason。　Me　first。〃　He　slid　the　magnetic　pass　off　its　brackets；　started　to　unreel　a　cable　from　a　spool　under　the　dashboard；　then　jumped　out；　still　unwinding　the　cable；　while　I　followed　to　help。　Despite　the　fact　that　the　magnetic　north　pole　is　nowhere　near　the　north　pole…at　that　time　it　was　almost　a　thousand　miles　south　of　it　and　lay　more　to　the　west　than　north　of　us…a　magnetic　pass；　when　proper　variation　allowances　are　made；　is　still　useful　in　high　latitudes：　but　because　of　the　counter…acting　magnetic　effects　of　a　large　mass　of　metal；　it　was　quite　useless　when　mounted　on　the　tractor　itself。　Our　plan；　therefore；　was　that　someone　should　He　with　the　pass　on　the　dog…sled；　fifty　feet　behind　the　tractor；　and；　by　means　of　a　switch　which　operated　red　and　green　lights　in　the　tractor　dashboard；　guide　the　driver　to　left　or　right。　It　wasn't　our　original　idea；　it　wasn't　even　a　recent　idea：　it　had　been　used　in　the　Antarctic　a　quarter　century　previously　but；　as　far　as　I　knew；　had　not　been　improved　upon　yet。
　
　With　Jackstraw　established　on　the　sledge；　I　walked　back　to　the　tractor　and　pushed　aside　the　canvas　screen　at　the　back　of　the　wooden　body。　What　with　the　faces　of　the　passengers；　drawn　and　pinched　and　weirdly　pale　in　the　light　of　the　tiny　overhead　bulb；　the　constant　shivering；　the　chattering　of　teeth　and　the　frozen　breath　drifting　upwards　to　condense　and　freeze　on　the　wooden　roof；　it　was　a　picture　of　utter　and　abject　misery：　but　I　was　in　no　mood　to　be　moved　at　that　moment。
　
　〃Sorry　for　the　delay；〃　I　said。　〃Just　off　again　now。　But　I　want　one　of　you　for　a　lookout。〃
　
　Both　Zagero　and　Corazzini　volunteered　almost　in　the　same　breath；　but　I　shook　my　head。
　
　〃You　two　get　what　sleep　or　rest　you　can…I'm　liable　to　need　you　very　much　later　on。　Perhaps　you；　Mr　Mahler？〃
　
　He　looked　pale　and　ill；　but　he　nodded　silently；　and　Zagero　said　in　a　quiet　voice：　〃Corazzini　and　myself　too　high　up　on　the　list　of　suspects；　huh？〃
　
　〃I　wouldn't　put　either　of　you　at　the　very　foot；〃　I　said　shortly。　I　waited　till　Mahler　had　climbed　down　then　dropped　the　canvas　and　walked　round　to　the　driver's　seat。
　
　Theodore　Mahler；　strangely　enough；　proved　only　too　anxious　to　talk…and　keep　on　talking。　It　was　so　pletely　out　of　keeping　with　the　idea　I　had　formed　of　his　character　that　I　was　more　than　surprised。　Loneliness；　perhaps；　I　thought；　or　trying　to　forget　the　situation；　or　trying　to　divert　my　thoughts　and　suspicions：　how　wrong　I　was　on　all　three　counts　I　wasn't　to　find　out　until　later。
　
　〃Well；　Mr　Mahler；　it　looks　as　if　the　itinerary　of　your　European　trip　is　going　to　be　upset　a　bit。〃　I　had　almost　to　shout　to　make　my　words　heard　above　the　roar　of　the　tractor。
　
　〃Not　Europe；　Dr　Mason。〃　I　could　hear　the　machine…gun…like　chatter　of　his　teeth。　〃Israel。〃
　
　〃You　live　there？〃
　
　〃Never　been　there　in　my　life。1　There　was　a　pause；　and　when　his　voice　came　again　it　was　all　but　drowned　in　the　sound　of　the　engine。　I　thought　I　caught　the　words　'My　home'。
　
　〃You…you're　going　to　start　a　new　life　there；　Mr　Mahler？〃
　
　Tm　sixty…nine…tomorrow；〃　he　answered　obliquely。　〃A　new　life？　Let's　say；　rather；　that　I'm　going　to　end　an　old　one。〃
　
　〃And　you're　going　to　live　there；　make　your　home　there…after　sixty…nine　years　in　another　country？〃
　
　〃Millions　of　us　Jews　have　done　just　that；　in　the　past　ten　years。　Not　that　I've　lived　in　America　all　my　life。　。　。　。　〃
　
　And　then　he　told　me　his　story…a　story　of　refugee　oppression　that　I'd　heard　a　hundred　times；　with　a　hundred　variations。　He　was　a　Russian　Jew；　he　said；　one　of　the　millions　of　the　largest　Jewry　in　the　world　that　had　been　'frozen'　for　over　a　century　in　the　notorious　Pale　of　Settlement；　and　in　1905　had　been　forced　to　flee　with　his　father…leaving　mother　and　two　brothers　behind…to　escape　the　ruthless　massacres　carried　out　by　the　'Black　Hundreds'　at　the　behest　of　the　last　of　the　Romanoff　Tzars　who　was　seeking　scapegoats　for　his　crushing　defeat　by　the　Japanese。　His　mother；　he　learned　later；　had　just　disappeared；　while　his　two　brothers　had　survived　only　to　die　in　agony　long　years　afterwards；　one　in　the　rising　in　the　Bialystok　ghetto；　the　other　in　the　Treblinka　gas　chambers。　He　himself　had　found　work　in　the　clothing　industry　in　New　York；　studied　in　night　school；　worked　for　an　oil　pany；　married　and　with　the　death　of　his　wife　that　spring　had　set　about　fulfilling　the　agelong　ambition　of　his　race；　the　return　to　their　holy　land。
　
　It　was　a　touching　story；　pathetic　and　deeply　moving；　and　I　didn't　believe　a　word　of　it。
　
　Every　twenty　minutes　I　changed　position　with　Jackstraw　and　so　the　long　hours　of　the　night　dragged　by　as　the　cold　deepened　and　the　stars　and　the　moon　wheeled　across　the　black　vault　of　the　sky。　And　then　came　moonset；　the　blackness　of　the　arctic　night　rushed　across　the　ice…cap；　I　slowed　the　Citroen　gratefully　to　a　stop　and　the　silence；　breathless　and　hushed　and　infinitely　sweet；　came　flooding　in　to　take　the　place　of　the　nightlong　clamour　of　the　deafening　roar　of　the　big　engine；　the　metallic　clanking　of　the　treads。
　
　Over　our　black　sugarless　coffee　and　biscuits　I　told　our　passengers　that　this　would　be　only　a　brief　three…hour　halt；　that　they　should　try　to　get　what　sleep　they　could：　most　of　them；　myself　included；　were　already　red…eyed　and　drooping　from　exhaustion。　Three　hours；　no　more：　not　often　did　Greenland　offer　travel　weather　like　this；　and　the　chance　was　not　to　be　missed。
　
　Beside　me；　as　I　drank　my　coffee；　was　Theodore　Mahler。　He　was　for　some　reason　restless；　ill　at　ease；　jerky　and　nervous；　and　his　eyes　and　attention　both　wandered　so　much　that　it　was　easy　enough　for　me　to　find　out　what　I　wanted。
　
　When　my　cup　was　empty；　I　whispered　in　Mahler's　ear　that　there　was　a　little　matter　that　I　wished　to　discuss　privately　with　him。　He　looked　at　me　in　surprise；　hesitated；　then　nodded　in　agreement；　rising　to　follow　me　as　I　moved　out　into　the　darkness。
　
　A　hundred　yards　away　I　stopped；　switched　on　my　torch　so　that　he　blinked　in　its　beam；　and　slid　my　Beretta　forward　until　its　barrel　was　clearly　visible；　sharply　outlined　in　the　harsh　white　glare。　I　heard　the　catch　of　the　breath；　saw　the　eyes　widening　in　fear　and　horror。
　
　〃Save　the　act　for　the　judge；　Mahler；〃　I　said　bleakly。　〃I'm　not　interested　in　it。　All　I　want　is　your　gun。〃
　
　
　CHAPTER　SEVEN…Tuesday　7　A。M。…Tuesday　Midnight
　
　〃My　gun？〃　Mahler　had　slowly　lifted　his　arms　until　his　hands　were　at　shoulder　level；　and　his　voice　wasn't　quite　steady。　〃I…I　don't　understand；　Dr　Mason。　I　have　no　gun。〃
　
　〃Naturally。〃　I　jerked　the　barrel　of　the　Beretta　to　lend　emphasis　to　my　words。　Turn　round。〃
　
　〃What　are　you　going　to　do？　You're　making　a…〃
　
　〃Turn　round！〃
　
　He　turned。　I　took　a　couple　of　steps　forward；　ground　the　muzzle　of　the　automatic　none　too　gently　into　the　small　of　his　back；　and　started　to　search　him　with　my　free　hand。
　
　He　was　wearing　two　overcoats；　a　jacket；　several　sweaters　and　scarves；　two…pairs　of　trousers　and　layer　upon　layer　of　underclothes：　searching　him　was　easier　said　than　done。　It　took　me　a　full　minute　to　convince　myself　that　he　wasn't　carrying　a　weapon　of　any　kind。　I　stepped　back；　and　he　came　slowly　round　to　face　me。
　
　〃I　hope　you're　quite　satisfied　now；　Dr　Mason？〃
　
　〃We'11　see　what　we　find　in　your　case。　As　for　the　rest；　I'm　satisfied　enough。　I　have　all　the　proof　I　want。〃　I　dipped　the　torch　beam　to　illuminate　the　handful　of　sugar　I'd　taken　from　the　pocket　of　his　inner　overcoat…there　had　been　well　over　a　pound　in　either　pocket。　〃You　might　care　to　explain　where　you　got　this　from；　Mr　Mahler？〃
　
　〃I　don't　ha