英文短篇小说欣赏-失窃的信
THE PURLOINED LETTERby Edgar Allan Poe
(1845)
At Paris, just after dark one gusty evening in the autumn of 18--, I was
enjoying the twofold luxury of meditation and a meerschaum, in company with my
friend C. Auguste Dupin, in his little back library, or book-closet, au
troisieme, No. 33, Rue Dunot, Faubourg St. Germain. For one hour at least we had
maintained a profound silence; while each, to any casual observer, might have
seemed intently and exclusively occupied with the curling eddies of smoke that
oppressed the atmosphere of the chamber. For myself, however, I was mentally
discussing certain topics which had formed matter for conversation between us at
an earlier period of the evening; I mean the affair of the Rue Morgue, and the
mystery attending the murder of Marie Roget. I looked upon it, therefore, as
something of a coincidence, when the door of our apartment was thrown open and
admitted our old acquaintance, Monsieur G--, the Prefect of the Parisian
police.
We gave him a hearty welcome; for there was nearly half as much of the
entertaining as of the contemptible about the man, and we had not seen him for
several years. We had been sitting in the dark, and Dupin now arose for the
purpose of lighting a lamp, but sat down again, without doing so, upon G.'s
saying that he had called to consult us, or rather to ask the opinion of my
friend, about some official business which had occasioned a great deal of
trouble.
"If it is any point requiring reflection," observed Dupin, as he forbore to
enkindle the wick, "we shall examine it to better purpose in the dark."
"That is another of your odd notions," said the Prefect, who had a fashion
of calling every thing "odd" that was beyond his comprehension, and thus lived
amid an absolute legion of "oddities."
"Very true," said Dupin, as he supplied his visitor with a pipe, and rolled
towards him a comfortable chair.
"And what is the difficulty now?" I asked. "Nothing more in the
assassination way, I hope?"
"Oh no; nothing of that nature. The fact is, the business is very simple
indeed, and I make no doubt that we can manage it sufficiently well ourselves;
but then I thought Dupin would like to hear the details of it, because it is so
excessively odd."
"Simple and odd," said Dupin.
"Why, yes; and not exactly that, either. The fact is, we have all been a
good deal puzzled because the affair is so simple, and yet baffles us
altogether."
"Perhaps it is the very simplicity of the thing which puts you at fault,"
said my friend.
"What nonsense you do talk!" replied the Prefect, laughing heartily.
"Perhaps the mystery is a little too plain," said Dupin.
"Oh, good heavens! who ever heard of such an idea?"
"A little too self-evident."
"Ha! ha! ha! --ha! ha! ha! --ho! ho! ho!" --roared our visitor, profoundly
amused, "oh, Dupin, you will be the death of me yet!"
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