Chapter 1 An Important Passenger on the Taurus Express
1 托鲁斯特快车上的贵宾
It was five o’clock on a winter’s morning in Syria. Alongside the platform at Aleppo stood the train grandly designated in railway guides as the Taurus Express. It consisted of a kitchen and dining-car, a sleeping-car and two local coaches.
叙利亚严冬清晨五时。在铁路指南上号称为托鲁斯特快车的一越列车停靠在阿勒颇车站月台旁边。这列火车有炊事车、餐车、一节卧铺车与两节普通车厢。
By the step leading up into the sleeping-car stood a young French lieutenant, resplendent in uniform, conversing with a small lean man, muffled up to the ears, of whom nothing was visible but a pink-tipped nose and the two points of an upward curled moustache.
在登上卧铺车厢的阶梯上站着一名身穿耀眼军服的年轻法国陆军中尉，正与一个矮小的男人谈话。这人全身御寒装束，连耳朵也戴上了耳帽，除了一颗红鼻头和两撇上翘的仁丹胡子之外，什么也看不见。
It was freezingly cold, and this job of seeing off a distinguished stranger was not one to be envied, but Lieutenant Dubosc performed his part manfully. Graceful phrases fell from his lips in polished French. Not that he knew what it was all about. There had been rumours, of course, as there always were in such cases. The General—his General’s—temper had grown worse and worse. And then there had come this Belgian stranger—all the way from England, it seemed. There had been a week—a week of curious tensity. And then certain things had happened. A very distinguished officer had committed suicide, another had resigned—anxious faces had suddenly lost their anxiety, certain military precautions were relaxed. And the General—Lieutenant Dubosc’s own particular General—had suddenly looked ten years younger.
天气是刺骨的寒冷，此时奉命来为一名重要的陌生客人送行，的确不是令人羡慕的差事。然而杜博斯克中尉在职务上的表现却是一副大丈夫的气概。他以优美的法语流露了高雅的谈吐。其实，他并不了解事实的真相，谣言流传已久，当然，在这种事体上终归是难免的。将军——他的这位顶头上司的脾气是愈发不可收拾了。后来，好像这位比利时的生客自英国远道赶了来。整整一个礼拜的诡秘紧张情势过后，事态有了转变。一位卓越的军官自杀身死，另一位突然辞职，焦虑的面孔也倏地轻松下来，一些军事戒备也放宽了。这位将军，杜博斯克中尉伺奉的这位特殊的将军，看起来也顿时年轻了十岁。
Dubosc had overheard part of a conversation between him and the stranger. ‘You have saved us, mon cher,’ said the General emotionally, his great white moustache trembling as he spoke. ‘You have saved the honour of the French Army—you have averted much bloodshed! How can I thank you for acceding to my request? To have come so far—’
杜博斯克偶然听过他与这位陌生客人的一些谈话。“你真救了我们，亲爱的朋友。”将军激动地说：“你挽救了法国陆军的荣誉——也避免了一场流血！你接受了我的邀请，我真不知如何感谢你？这么远道前来——”随着将军嘴唇的起动，他那撮雪白的美须也跟着上下颤动。
To which the stranger (by name M. Hercule Poirot) had made a fitting reply including the phrase, ‘But indeed do I not remember that once you saved my life?’ And then the General had made another fitting reply to that disclaiming any merit for that past service, and with more mention of France, of Belgium, of glory, of honour and of such kindred things they had embraced each other heartily and the conversation had ended.
这位陌生客（名字叫赫邱里·白罗）应对得也很得体，他说：“可是，我也记得，您不是也救过我一命吗？”将军马上作了一次恰当的应答，表示过去的事他实在愧不敢当；又提到了法国、比利时，光荣与荣誉等类似的话题之后，两人热情地拥抱，结束了这次谈话。
As to what it had all been about, Lieutenant Dubosc was still in the dark, but to him had been delegated the duty of seeing off M. Poirot by the Taurus Express, and he was carrying it out with all the zeal and ardour befitting a young officer with a promising career ahead of him.
至于他们两人到底谈的是什么，杜博斯克仍然蒙在鼓里，他只晓得自己是奉命送这位白罗先生搭乘托鲁斯特快车的。身为一个前程远大的青年军官，他在执行任务时倒也表现得热诚、认真。
‘Today is Sunday,’ said Lieutenant Dubosc. ‘Tomorrow, Monday evening, you will be in Stamboul.’
“今天礼拜天，”杜博斯克中尉说：“明天，礼拜一晚上您就到伊斯坦堡了。”
It was not the first time he had made this observation. Conversations on the platform, before the departure of a train, are apt to be somewhat repetitive in character.
这话他已不是第一次说了。火车开行之前，月台上的谈话多少免不了是重复性的。
‘That is so,’ agreed M. Poirot.
“是的。”白罗附和着说。
‘And you intend to remain there a few days, I think?’
“我想，您在那里是要停几天的吧？”
‘Mais oui. Stamboul, it is a city I have never visited. It would be a pity to pass through—comme ça.’ He snapped his fingers descriptively. ‘Nothing presses—I shall remain there as a tourist for a few days.’
“是呀，伊斯坦堡这个都市我还没到过呢。错过了就太可惜了——是吧？”他有声有色地将手指啪地弹了一声。“无事一身轻——我要在当地好好观光一番。”
‘La Sainte Sophie, it is very fine,’ said Lieutenant Dubosc, who had never seen it.
“圣苏菲，棒极了。”杜博斯克中尉说，其实他根本没看过。
A cold wind came whistling down the platform. Both men shivered. Lieutenant Dubosc managed to cast a surreptitious glance at his watch. Five minutes to five—only five minutes more!
一阵刺面寒风向月台呼啸而过，两人都打了个寒噤。杜博斯克中尉偷偷瞄了一下手表，差五分五点——只差五分钟了！
Fancying that the other man had noticed his surreptitious glance, he hastened once more into speech.
生怕这人看见他看了手表，他又立即抓起了话题。
‘There are few people travelling this time of year,’ he said, glancing up at the windows of the sleeping-car above them.
“这季节真没有什么人旅行啊。”他说着朝上方卧铺车厢的窗户看了一眼。
‘That is so,’ agreed M. Poirot.
“说的是呀。”白罗先生点头应着。
‘Let us hope you will not be snowed up in the Taurus!’
“但愿您此行别叫托鲁斯山中的大雪给挡住了！”
‘That happens?’
“会吗？”
‘It has occurred, yes. Not this year, as yet.’
“以前有过的，不过今年倒还没有发生呢。”
‘Let us hope, then,’ said M. Poirot. ‘The weather reports from Europe, they are bad.’
“但愿如此，”白罗先生说：“从欧洲来的气象报告可实在很不乐观。”
‘Very bad. In the Balkans there is much snow.’
“很不好。巴尔干那边风雪很大。”
‘In Germany too, I have heard.’
“听说在德国下得也很厉害。”
‘Eh bien,’ said Lieutenant Dubosc hastily as another pause seemed to be about to occur. ‘Tomorrow evening at seven-forty you will be in Constantinople.’
“是呵，”杜博斯克中尉感到另一次无言的尴尬又要发生，赶快接着说：“明天晚上七点四十分您就到达君士坦丁堡了。”
‘Yes,’ said M. Poirot, and went on desperately, ‘La Sainte Sophie, I have heard it is very fine.’
“是的，”白罗也百般无奈地说：“圣苏菲，听说可真不错呵。”
‘Magnificent, I believe.’
“我相信那地方棒极了。”
Above their heads the blind of one of the sleeping car compartments was pushed aside and a young woman looked out.
靠他们头顶上方的一扇百叶窗往旁边推了开来，一名年轻女人往车外探望。
Mary Debenham had had little sleep since she left Baghdad on the preceding Thursday. Neither in the train to Kirkuk, nor in the Rest House at Mosul, nor last night on the train had she slept properly. Now, weary of lying wakeful in the hot stuffiness of her overheated compartment, she got up and peered out.
玛丽·戴本瀚打从头天星期四离开巴格达以来，就不曾睡好。到基尔库克的车上，在摩苏尔的宾馆，以及昨夜在车上都睡得很不踏实。睁着眼睛，被车上过强的暖气闷得发慌，她站起身来往外窥看。
This must be Aleppo. Nothing to see, of course. Just a long, poor-lighted platform with loud furious altercations in Arabic going on somewhere. Two men below her window were talking French. One was a French officer, the other was a little man with enormous moustaches. She smiled faintly. She had never seen anyone quite so heavily muffled up. It must be very cold outside. That was why they heated the train so terribly. She tried to force the window down lower, but it would not go.
这一定是阿勒颇。当然没有什么可看的，只是一条漫长、灯光黯淡的月台，不知自何处传来了一阵嘈杂、激烈的阿拉伯语吵骂声。她看见车窗下有两个男人在用法语谈话，一名是个法国军官，另一个是蓄有一大撮仁丹胡须的矮小男人。她矜持地挤出一丝笑容。从未见过冬天穿这么多衣服的人。想必外头是奇冷的，难怪车厢内的暖气开得这么热了呢。她想把窗户往下拉开一点，却拉不动。
The Wagon Lit conductor had come up to the two men. The train was about to depart, he said. Monsieur had better mount. The little man removed his hat. What an egg-shaped head he had. In spite of her preoccupations Mary Debenham smiled. A ridiculous-looking little man. The sort of little man one could never take seriously.
卧铺列车长前来告诉这两个人车就要开了，先生最好上车吧。那矮小的男人摘下了帽子，这人的头怎么如此的酷似鸡蛋呢！玛丽·戴本瀚虽有些心神不定，却也笑了。这样一个怪状的矮小男人。这种矮小男人实在是不必假以颜色的。
Lieutenant Dubosc was saying his parting speech. He had thought it out beforehand and had kept it till the last minute. It was a very beautiful, polished speech.
杜博斯克中尉开始向客人话别了。他事前早就想好了，直到此刻终于派上了用场。的确是一番词藻优美的送行辞。
Not to be outdone, M. Poirot replied in kind.
白罗不肯认输，也适度地回报了他一番……
‘En voiture, Monsieur,’ said the Wagon Lit conductor.
“请上车吧，先生。”列车长说。
With an air of infinite reluctance M. Poirot climbed aboard the train. The conductor climbed after him. M. Poirot waved his hand. Lieutenant Dubosc came to the salute. The train, with a terrific jerk, moved slowly forward.
白罗先生一副无限依依的神情登上了车厢。列车长也随后上了车，白罗先生挥手致意，杜博斯克立正敬礼。火车猛地一阵摇撼之后，缓缓向前开动。
‘Enfin! ’murmured M. Hercule Poirot.
“可完了！”赫邱里·白罗喃喃地说。
‘Brrrrr,’ said Lieutenant Dubosc, realizing to the full how cold he was…
“哎——呀，”杜博斯克狠狠地打了一个寒噤，他感到自己简直要冻僵了。
‘Voila, Monsieur.’ The conductor displayed to Poirot with a dramatic gesture the beauty of his sleeping compartment and the neat arrangement of his luggage. ‘The little valise of Monsieur, I have placed it here.’
“怎么样，先生？”列车长作戏般地将手一摊，向白罗展示他卧铺小房间的美观与安放的行李。“先生的手提箱我给您放在这儿了。”
His outstretched hand was suggestive. Hercule Poirot placed in it a folded note.
他将手伸得高高的，用意自是不言而喻。白罗将一张折好的钞票放入他的手中。
‘Merci, Monsieur.’ The conductor became brisk and businesslike. ‘I have the tickets of Monsieur. I will also take the passport, please. Monsieur breaks his journey in Stamboul, I understand?’
“多谢，先生。”列车长一时精神奕奕，一本正经起来。“您的车票在我这里；请您把护照也交给我。您是在君斯坦丁堡下车吧？”
M. Poirot assented.‘There are not many people travelling, I imagine?’ he said.
“不错，”白罗应道：“好像没几位乘客嘛！”
‘No, Monsieur. I have only two other passengers—both English. A Colonel from India, and a young English lady from Baghdad. Monsieur requires anything?’
“不多。除了您以外，另外只有两位，都是英国人。一位是来自印度的上校，另一位是巴格达来的英国小姐。先生要些什么吗？”
Monsieur demanded a small bottle of Perrier.
白罗先生要了一瓶矿泉水。
Five o’clock in the morning is an awkward time to board a train. There was still two hours before dawn. Conscious of an inadequate night’s sleep, and of a delicate mission successfully accomplished, M. Poirot curled up in a corner and fell asleep.
清晨五时搭火车的确是很不惬意的时辰，得等两个钟头才天亮呢。自知一夜睡眠不足，又成功地完成了一件相当不易的差事，白罗先生蜷卧在床角，不一会就睡着了。
When he awoke it was half-past nine, and he sallied forth to the restaurant-car in search of hot coffee.
一觉醒来，已是九点半，他踱入餐车想喝杯咖啡提提神。
There was only one occupant at the moment, obviously the young English lady referred to by the conductor. She was tall, slim and dark—perhaps twenty-eight years of age. There was a kind of cool efficiency in the way she was eating her breakfast and in the way she called to the attendant to bring her more coffee, which bespoke a knowledge of the world and of travelling. She wore a dark-coloured travelling dress of some thin material eminently suitable for the heated atmosphere of the train.
此刻，餐车内只有一位旅客在用早餐，无疑地，必定是列车长所说的那位英国小姐。她瘦长高挑、深色皮肤，约莫廿八岁上下。从她用餐与召唤待者添加咖啡的利落动作看来，是位见识广、惯常旅行的女士。她那一身轻便暗色薄料的旅行装，在这暖气过强的车厢内看起来最合适不过了。
M. Hercule Poirot, having nothing better to do, amused himself by studying her without appearing to do so.
闲着也是闲着，赫邱里·白罗先生就故作若无其事地打量起这位女士来了。
She was, he judged, the kind of young woman who could take care of herself with perfect ease wherever she went. She had poise and efficiency. He rather liked the severe regularity of her features and the delicate pallor of her skin. He liked the burnished black head with its neat waves of hair, and her eyes, cool, impersonal and grey. But she was, he decided, just a little too efficient to be what he called ‘jolie femme.’
照他看来，她是个在任何场合都会沉着照顾自己的女人，高雅、利落。他很欣赏她那副庄重严肃的五官、苍白细致的脸庞。她那一头梳得整齐蓬松黑亮的秀发他也很喜欢，还有那对冷漠的灰色眼睛。只是，他总觉得她的利落稍嫌矜持，不像是他所称之为的“正派女人”。
Presently another person entered the restaurant-car. This was a tall man of between forty and fifty, lean of figure, brown of skin, with hair slightly grizzled round the temples.
不一会，餐车内走进来另一位乘客。一名高大、修长，年约四五十岁的男人。棕色皮肤，两鬓略现花白。
‘The colonel from India,’ said Poirot to himself.
白罗先生心里想：“该是来自印度的英军上校了。”
The newcomer gave a little bow to the girl.‘Morning, Miss Debenham.’
刚进来的这名男士向小姐弯身一躬：“早，戴本瀚小姐。”
‘Good-morning, Colonel Arbuthnot.’
“阿伯斯诺上校，你早。”
The Colonel was standing with a hand on the chair opposite her.‘Any objection?’ he asked.
上校一手搭在她对面的椅背上问道：“介意吗？”
‘Of course not. Sit down.’
“怎么会呢，请坐。”
‘Well, you know, breakfast isn’t always a chatty meal.’
“不过，我知道，早餐可不是谈天的好时刻。”
‘I should hope not. But I don’t bite.’
“幸亏不是，反正我吃的也不多。”
The Colonel sat down.
上校坐定之后，以一副俨然大将的口吻叫了一声侍者。
‘Boy,’ he called in peremptory fashion.
He gave an order for eggs and coffee.
他要了咖啡与蛋。
His eyes rested for a moment on Hercule Poirot, but they passed on indifferently. Poirot, reading the English mind correctly, knew that he had said to himself, ‘Only some damned foreigner.’
他漫不经心地扫了赫邱里·白罗几眼。白罗心里有数，知道那人心里准是在说：“不知哪儿来的外国乡巴佬。”
True to their nationality, the two English people were not chatty. They exchanged a few brief remarks, and presently the girl rose and went back to her compartment.
的确没有辜负他们的民族性，这两个英国人话不多说。两人应酬几句之后，那个女郎就起身返回到自己的卧车厢内去了。
At lunch time the other two again shared a table and again they both completely ignored the third passenger. Their conversation was more animated than at breakfast. Colonel Arbuthnot talked of the Punjab, and occasionally asked the girl a few questions about Baghdad where it became clear that she had been in a post as governess. In the course of conversation they discovered some mutual friends which had the immediate effect of making them more friendly and less stiff. They discussed old Tommy Somebody and Jerry Someone Else. The Colonel inquired whether she was going straight through to England or whether she was stopping in Stamboul.
午餐时刻，他们两人仍然坐在一起，也全然不理睬那第三名旅客。两人交谈要较早餐时生动多了。阿伯斯诺上校谈起印、巴交界的彭加巴，偶尔也问那个女郎一些巴格达的事，他得知她是在那儿担任家庭教师的。交谈中，两人也发现彼此有共同相识的朋友，谈话也就更轻松且免于拘束了，张三李四地互相打听了一番。上校问她是直接前往英国抑或在伊斯坦堡稍留。
‘No, I’m going straight on.’
“不，我是一直回英国的。”
‘Isn’t that rather a pity?’
“那不太遗憾了吗？”
‘I came out this way two years ago and spent three days in Stamboul then.’
“两年前我也曾搭过这班车，在伊斯坦堡消磨了三天。”
‘Oh, I see. Well, I may say I’m very glad you are going right through, because I am.’
“喔！是这样的，那我真高兴你是直返英国，因为我自己也是的。”
He made a kind of clumsy little bow, flushing a little as he did so.
他稍嫌笨拙地欠了欠身子，脸还跟着微红了一阵。
‘He is susceptible, our Colonel,’ thought Hercule Poirot to himself with some amusement. ‘The train, it is as dangerous as a sea voyage!’
“我们这位上校倒是蛮多情的，”赫邱里·白罗心中玩味地想：“乘火车可是与海上航行同样风险呵！”
Miss Debenham said evenly that that would be very nice. Her manner was slightly repressive.
戴本瀚小姐很文静地表示那很好。她的神态带着些抑制。
The Colonel, Hercule Poirot noticed, accompanied her back to her compartment. Later they passed through the magnificent scenery of the Taurus. As they looked down towards the Cilician Gates, standing in the corridor side by side, a sigh came suddenly from the girl. Poirot was standing near them and heard her murmur:
赫邱里·白罗注意到上校陪着她返回了她的车厢。稍后，列车驶过宏伟的托鲁斯山脉。他们并肩站在通道上俯瞰西里仙出口时，那女郎突然叹了一口气。白罗就站在他们近旁，听见她低声说道：
‘It’s so beautiful! I wish—I wish—’
“真美！我但愿——但愿——”
‘Yes?’
“怎样？”
‘I wish, I could enjoy it!’
“但愿我有那副欣赏的心情！”
Arbuthnot did not answer. The square line of his jaw seemed a little sterner and grimmer.
阿伯斯诺并未搭腔。他下颚的曲尺线条似乎显得更严峻阴郁了。
‘I wish to Heaven you were out of all this,’ he said.
“祈求老天能让你摆脱这一切。”他说。
‘Hush, please. Hush.’
“嘘！请别说了。”
‘Oh! it’s all right.’ He shot a slightly annoyed glance in Poirot’s direction. Then he went on: ‘But I don’t like the idea of your being a governess—at the beck and call of tyrannical mothers and their tiresome brats.’
“喔！不妨妨事的。”他朝白罗的身边厌嫌地扫了一眼之后又说：“我实在不喜欢你当家庭教师——低声下气地伺候那些专横的母亲与讨厌的小鬼。”
She laughed with just a hint of uncontrol in the sound.
她声音有些失去控制地笑了出来。
‘Oh! you mustn’t think that. The downtrodden governess is quite an exploded myth. I can assure you that it’s the parents who are afraid of being bullied by me.’
“家庭教师受折磨的传言未免言过其实。我倒可以告诉你，那些做母亲的才怕被我欺侮呢！”
They said no more. Arbuthnot was, perhaps, ashamed of his outburst.
他们沉默了下来。也许，阿伯斯诺对自己的发作感到惭愧。
‘Rather an odd little comedy that I watch here,’ said Poirot to himself thoughtfully.
“我在这儿看的这幕喜剧倒是挺蹊跷的。”白罗心中沉思地说。
He was to remember that thought of his later.
事后他是会记起这种想法的。
They arrived at Konya that night about half-past eleven. The two English travellers got out to stretch their legs, pacing up and down the snowy platform.
当晚十一点半他们抵达孔雅。那两名英国旅客步下列车，在积雪的月台上来回跑步，松松筋骨。
M. Poirot was content to watch the teeming activity of the station through a window pane. After about ten minutes, however, he decided that a breath of air would not perhaps be a bad thing, after all. He made careful preparations, wrapping himself in several coats and mufflers and encasing his neat boots in goloshes. Thus attired he descended gingerly to the platform and began to pace its length. He walked out beyond the engine.
白罗透过车窗很自在地观察那对踱步的旅客。十分钟过后，他又觉得出去透透气该也不错。于是他细心作了一番准备，套上几层大衣，戴上耳帽，又将雪亮的皮靴套上了胶套鞋。全副装备妥当之后，他轻快地踏上了月台，信步朝火车头的方向踱了过去。
It was the voices which gave him the clue to the two indistinct figures standing in the shadow of a traffic van. Arbuthnot was speaking.
一阵话语声使白罗辨认出站立在一节行李车阴影中的两个人影，阿伯斯诺在说话。
‘Mary—’
“玛丽——”
The girl interrupted him.
那女郎打断了他的话。
‘Not now. Not now. When it’s all over. When it’s behind us—then—’
“不成，现在不行，等事完了再说，等这一切都过去了，我们再——”
Discreetly M. Poirot turned away. He wondered.
白罗谨慎地转身避开。他心中在奇怪……
He would hardly have recognized the cool, efficient voice of Miss Debenham…
他几乎没听出来戴本瀚那冷静、俐落的声调。
‘Curious,’ he said to himself.
“真奇了，”他自言自语地说。
The next day he wondered whether, perhaps, they had quarrelled. They spoke little to each other. The girl, he thought, looked anxious. There were dark circles under her eyes.
第二天他仍在猜想，也许他们俩拌嘴了。这天他俩始终很少交谈。那女郎一脸焦虑神色，眼眶下也泛起了黑晕。
It was about half-past two in the afternoon when the train came to a halt. Heads were poked out of windows. A little knot of men were clustered by the side of the line looking and pointing at something under the dining-car.
下午两点半左右，火车缓慢地停了下来。旅客们都将头伸出窗外探望，铁轨旁聚了一小撮人，往餐车下方指指点点的。
Poirot leaned out and spoke to the Wagon Lit conductor who was hurrying past. The man answered and Poirot drew back his head and, turning, almost collided with Mary Debenham who was standing just behind him.
白罗将头探出车外，向匆忙掠过的卧车长问了几句话。那人答复之后，白罗将头缩了回来，一转身几乎撞上了站在他身后的玛丽·戴本瀚。
‘What is the matter?’ she asked rather breathlessly in French. ‘Why are we stopping?’
“怎么回事？”她屏住呼吸用法语问道：“为什么停车？”
‘It is nothing, Mademoiselle. It is something that has caught fire under the dining-car. Nothing serious. It is put out. They are now repairing the damage. There is no danger, I assure you.’
“没什么事，小姐。餐车底下起了点小火，并不严重。已经熄掉了，他们正在赶修。不会有危险的，请放心。”
She made a little abrupt gesture, as though she were waving the idea of danger aside as something completely unimportant.
她作了个不耐烦的手势，好像她关心的并不是危险的事故，那对她似乎全无紧要。
‘Yes, yes, I understand that. But the time!’
“是的，是的，我知道，可是时间呀！”
‘The time?’
“时间？”
‘Yes, this will delay us.’
“是呵，这样我们不是要误点了吗？”
‘It is possible—yes,’ agreed Poirot.
“很可能的——不错。”白罗表示同意地说。
‘But we can’t afford delay! The train is due in at 6.55 and one has to cross the Bosphorus and catch the Simplon Orient Express the other side at nine o’clock. If there is an hour or two of delay we shall miss the connection.’
“误了点怎么行？车应该六点五十五分到达的。我还得过博斯普鲁斯海峡到对岸去搭九点钟的辛浦伦东方特快车。如果耽误了一两个钟头，我就没法子换车了！”
‘It is possible, yes,’ he admitted.
“是的，有此可能。”白罗是可以想见的。
He looked at her curiously. The hand that held the window bar was not quite steady, her lips too were trembling.
他好生不解地看着她。她扶在窗槛上的手有些不稳，嘴唇也在发抖。
‘Does it matter to you very much, Mademoiselle?’ he asked.
“这对您十分紧要吗，小姐？”他问。
‘Yes. Yes, it does. I—I must catch that train.’
“是的，当然啰。我——我一定得赶上那班火车。”
She turned away from him and went down the corridor to join Colonel Arbuthnot.
Her anxiety, however, was needless. Ten minutes later the train started again. It arrived at Haydapassar only five minutes late, having made up time on the journey.
事实证明她的焦虑是没有必要的。十分钟之后，车又开始加速前行，赶了些时间，到达海蓬帕赛时只晚了五分钟。
The Bosphorus was rough and M. Poirot did not enjoy the crossing. He was separated from his travelling companions on the boat, and did not see them again.
渡过埔斯普鲁斯海峡时，风浪很大，白罗先生感到有些不适。他在渡船上与那两位旅伴分散了，也没有再与他们照面。
On arrival at the Galata Bridge he drove straight to the Tokatlian Hotel.
抵达嘉拉达码头时，他立即乘车直驶图卡德兰大饭店。