iam fleming.for your eyes only-第33部分
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acts of life to your colleagues in American Intelligence。 In between these duties you will need panionship … someone to show you the beauties of my beloved homeland。 In uncivilized countries； it is the polite custom to offer one of your wives to a man whom you love and wish to honour。 I also am uncivilized。 I have no wives； but I have many such friends as Lisl Baum。 She will not need to receive any instructions in this matter。 I have good reason to believe that she is awaiting your return this evening。〃 Colombo fished in his trousers pocket and tossed something down with a clang on the table in front of Bond。 〃Here is the good reason。〃 Colombo put his hand to his heart and looked seriously into Bond's eyes。 〃I give it to you from my heart。 Perhaps also from hers。〃
Bond picked the thing up。 It was a key with a heavy metal tag attached。 The metal tag was inscribed Albergo Danielli。 Room 68。
THE HILDEBRAND RARITY
The sting…ray was about six feet from wing…tip to wing…tip； and perhaps ten feet long from the blunt wedge of its nose to the end of its deadly tail。 It was dark grey with that violet tinge that is so often a danger signal in the underwater world。 When it rose up from the pale golden sand and swam a little distance it was as if a black towel was being waved through the water。
James Bond； his hands along his flanks and swimming with only a soft trudge of his fins； followed the black shadow across the wide palm…fringed lagoon； waiting for a shot。 He rarely killed fish except to eat； but there were exceptions … big moray eels and all the members of the scorpion…fish family。 Now he proposed to kill the sting…ray because it looked so extraordinarily evil。
It was ten o'clock in the morning of a day in April； and the lagoon； Belle Anse near the southernmost tip of Mahe； the largest island in the Seychelles group； was glassy calm。 The north…west monsoon had blown itself out months before and it would be May before the south…east monsoon brought refreshment。 Now the temperature was eighty in the shade and the humidity ninety； and in the enclosed waters of the lagoon the water was near blood heat。 Even the fish seemed to be sluggish。 A ten…pound green parrot…fish； nibbling algae from a lump of coral； paused only to roll its eyes as Bond passed overhead； and then went back to its meal。 A school of fat grey chub； swimming busily； broke courteously in half to let Bond's shadow by； and then joined up and continued on their opposite course。 A chorus line of six small squids； normally as shy as birds； did not even bother to change their camouflage at his passage。
Bond trudged lazily on； keeping the sting…ray just in sight。 Soon it would get tired or else be reassured when Bond； the big fish on the surface； did not attack。 Then it would settle on to a patch of flat sand； change its camouflage down to the palest； almost translucent grey； and； with soft undulations of its wing…tips； bury itself in the sand。
The reef was ing nearer and now there were outcrops of coral niggerheads and meadows of sea…grass。 It was like arriving in a town from open country。 Everywhere the jewelled reef fish twinkled and glowed and the giant anemones of the Indian Ocean burned like flames in the shadows。 Colonies of spined sea…eggs made sepia splashes as if someone had thrown ink against the rock； and the brilliant blue and yellow feelers of langoustes quested and waved from their crevices like small dragons。 Now and then； among the seaweed on the brilliant floor； there was the speckled glitter of a cowrie bigger than a golf ball … the leopard cowrie … and once Bond saw the beautiful splayed fingers of a Venus's harp。 But all these things were now monplace to him and he drove steadily on； interested in the reef only as cover through which he could get to seaward of the ray and then pursue it back towards the shore。 The tactic worked； and soon the black shadow with its pursuing brown torpedo were moving back across the great blue mirror。 In about twelve feet of water the ray stopped for the hundredth time。 Bond stopped also； treading water softly。 Cautiously he lifted his head and emptied water out of his goggles。 By the time he looked again the ray had disappeared。
Bond had a Champion harpoon…gun with double rubbers。 The harpoon was tipped with a needle…sharp trident … a short…range weapon； but the best for reef work。 Bond pushed up the safe and moved slowly forward； his fins pulsing softly just below the surface so as to make no sound。 He looked around him； trying to pierce the misty horizons of the great hail of the lagoon。 He was looking for any big lurking shape。 It would not do to have a shark or a large barracuda as witness of the kill。 Fish sometimes scream when they are hurt； and even when they do not the turbulence and blood caused by a sharp struggle bring the scavengers。 But there was not a living thing in sight and the sand stretched away into the smoky wings like the bare boards of a stage。 Now Bond could see the faint outline on the bottom。 He swam directly over it and lay motionless on the surface looking down。 There was a tiny movement in the sand。 Two minute fountains of sand were dancing above the nostril…like holes of the spiracles。 Behind the holes was the slight swelling of the thing's body。 That was the target。 An inch behind the holes。 Bond estimated the possible upward lash of the tail and slowly reached his gun down and pulled the trigger。
Below him the sand erupted and for an anxious moment Bond could see nothing。 Then the harpoon line came taut and the ray showed； pulling away from him while its tail； in reflex aggression； lashed again and again over the body。 At the base of the tail Bond could see the jagged poison…spines standing up from the trunk。 These were the spines that were supposed to have killed Ulysses； that Pliny said would destroy a tree。 In the Indian Ocean； where the sea poisons are at their most virulent； one scratch from the ray's sting would mean certain death。 Cautiously； keeping the ray on a taut line； Bond trudged after the furiously wrestling fish。 He swam to one side to keep the line away from the lashing tail which could easily sever it。 This tail was the old slave…drivers' whip of the Indian Ocean。 Today it is illegal even to possess one in the Seychelles； but they are handed down in the families for use on faithless wives； and if the word goes round that this or that woman a eu la crapule； the Proven？al name for the sting ray； it is as good as saying that that woman will not be about again for at least a week。 Now the lashes of the tall were getting weaker and Bond swam round and ahead of the ray； pulling it after him towards the shore。 In the shallows the ray went limp and Bond pulled it out of the water and well up on the beach。 But he still kept away from it。 It was as well he did so。 Suddenly； at some move from Bond and perhaps in the hope of catching its enemy unawares； the giant ray leapt clean into the air。 Bond sprang aside and the ray fell on its back and lay with its white underbelly to the sun and the great ugly sickle of the mouth sucking and panting。
Bond stood and looked at the sting…ray and wondered what to do next。
A short； fat white man in khaki； shirt and trousers came out from under the palm trees and walked towards Bond through the scattering of sea…grape and sun…dried wrack above highwater mark。 When he was near enough he called out in a laughing voice： 〃The Old Man and the Sea！ Who caught who？〃
Bond turned。 〃It would be the only man on the island who doesn't carry a machete。 Fidele； be a good chap and call one of your men。 This animal won't die； and he's got my spear stuck in him。〃
Fidele Barbey； the youngest of the innumerable Barbeys who own nearly everything in the Seychelles； came up and stood looking down at the ray。 〃That's a good one。 Lucky you hit the right spot or he'd have towed you over the reef and you'd have had to let go your gun。 They take the hell of a time to die。 But e on。 I've got to get you back to Victoria。 Something's e up。 Something good。 I'll send one of my men for the gun。 Do you want the tail？〃
Bond smiled。 〃I haven't got a wife。 But what about some raie au beurre noir tonight？〃
〃Not tonight； my friend。 e。 Whe
