Chapter 5 Chapter 5 Tracking

When the train took me from Birmingham to Monk Sharpton, it took me into places I had not only never been to, but where I had never seen ordinary daylight at all, and touched and touched things that were extraordinary.I was taken into an amazing night.A huge meteor a few days ago made it look like daylight. At that time, the alternation of day and night in the past became strangely prominent.During the day, the comet was a thing in the press, arousing the keen interest of more than a thousand people.However, it does not interfere in the slightest with the coming war we are now engaged in.It is an astronomical phenomenon far above China in the depths of space, millions of miles away.We forget about it.But once the sun goes down and people turn their heads east again, the meteor still has an impact on us.

People are waiting for it to rise.It comes as a surprise every night.It rose brighter and larger than one might imagine.There is some kind of magical change around it, showing a dark green disc shape.It will grow as the Earth's shadow grows, scattering itself.So, this shade is not particularly defined or overly dark.It emits a phosphorescence-like light that gradually diminishes in intensity.The irritating sunlight receded.As it rose into the sky, as the sun receded, the last ray of daylight disappeared, and its greenish white light streamed into the present world, diffusing the bright temple light, and sprinkled all objects. .It turns the starless sky around it an incredible deep blue.It was the most profound color in the world, and I had never seen it before.

I also remember looking out from the rumbling train and seeing the coppery light blending with its shadow.This amazed me.It has turned our hideous British industrial towns into ghostly cities.Street lights were turned off everywhere.One can see the fine print in the flash, so, in Monk Sharpton, I was walking in unfamiliar streets, and the electric lights cast their shadows on the pavement.The orange light from the lighted windows was like a hole cut in a dreamy curtain before the hearth.A light-footed policeman led me to a small shop in the moonlight.A green-faced man opened the door for me.I stayed there overnight.

The next morning, I opened the door with a very loud rattling noise.The smell of beer came from a dingy little brasserie.There was also a fat, dirty landlady with red patches on his neck.On the cobbled road outside, there was a roar of passing vehicles. After paying the bill, I walked out of the store and into the street.The street echoed with the shouts of two newspaper vendors and the barking of a dog.The voices seemed to come and go, chasing each other.Two peddlers were shouting: "Great Britain's disaster in the North Sea, the loss of a warship, and all the officers and soldiers on board fell into the ocean."

I bought a newspaper, walked to the train station, and read about the triumph of ancient civilizations and the blowing up of huge ships, loaded with guns and explosives.It was the most expensive and beautiful ship of its time, with nine hundred strong soldiers on it, and it was hit by a German U-boat.As I read, a warlike mood welled up.Not only did I forget about the shooting star, but I even forgot to buy a ticket at the station, and I forgot all my previous plans to go to Shavembury. The blazing day has come to the most scorching time, and people have forgotten the night. Every night, the light in that deep space is beautiful and magical.The rays of hope are shining upon us more and more prominently.We all fell silent, marveling at the space.We have forgotten the sounds of the morning, the whipping of belts, the noise of the milk truck, another dusty day.People yawned and stretched.Foul soot filled the sky.Then we deal with the ruined chaos of everyday life.

"So life has always been," we said, "and it always will be." Those night lights are generally considered to be a mere spectacle, which has no great effect on us.As long as Western Europe existed, it was an insignificant part of the underclass.They see comets as bad omens.Abroad, where there are peasants, the situation is different.But in England, there are no more farmers.Everyone has read the newspapers.In the quiet days before our quarrels with the Germans reached their climax, the newspapers had taken people for granted.The hiker on the road, the child in the kindergarten knows at most that the entire glistening cloud weighs tens of tons.When it hits the Earth, it will be a spectacular sight.Undoubtedly, only a fraction of the population on Earth will be able to see the collision, and beyond the range of the impact, everything will be as before.People worry if our side is the side that gets hit.Meteors will gradually flicker in the sky, and then get bigger and bigger.As the Earth's shadow obscures the bright center, in the end, the entire sky becomes a glowing green cloud.There was a band of white light on the east and west horizons, and then there was a break, followed by a strong direct light from the meteor.The light was a rare color because there was some unknown element in that green light.After a while, meteors will be ejected from the zenith.It is hoped that some meteors will reach Earth so that they can be found and studied.

Science says that's all there is to it.Green clouds will swirl and disappear, and thunderstorms are possible.However, through the thinned strands of comets shining, the original sky and the original stars will disappear again, and then everything will return to normal.This will happen Tuesday morning between 1:00 and 11:00.I was sleeping in Monk Sharpton on Saturday night, on this side of the earth, only partially visible, maybe, if it came late, one could only see a meteor streaking across the sky.That's all science can tell us.However, people still regard what they saw the previous nights as the most beautiful and memorable nights they have ever experienced.

The night became soft. I didn't make it to Shavembury the next day.For that night there appeared again a radiance never seen before.It pains me to think of young Ferrar and Nettie clinging to each other under the glorious blessing of indica. I walked back and forth along the seashore, watching the faces of couples of young men and women, hands in pockets always ready.I suddenly felt a strange pang in my heart, which I had never felt so strongly before.Till at last all the walkers went back to sleep, and I was alone with the stars. In the morning, I boarded the train from Waifern to Shavermbury.The train is one hour late.It was said that this was caused by the emergency transport of troops.Troops are being brought in from Elbow to defend against a possible attack.

At that time, Shavembury seemed a very strange and strange place to me.Something strikes me distinctly with the oddity of many things that are sanctioned. Thinking back now, I feel so.For someone like me who doesn't travel very often, the whole place was a novelty to me.Even the sea here.I have been to the waterfront twice before.I have traveled with groups to many places along the Welsh coast.The spectacular rocky cliffs and mountains behind it are very different from the Anglin Sea landscape.Here, what people call cliffs are banks of brown dirt not more than fifty feet high. As soon as I arrived at Shavembury, I got a good idea of ​​the place.

To this day, I still vividly remember my plan.Everyone here is talking about the possibility of a German attack before Channel Fleet patrols arrive.This makes my investigation extremely inconvenient.On Sunday night I slept in a small hotel in Shavembury.I did not arrive at Shavermbury from Wyfern until two o'clock in the afternoon.There are very few trains on Sunday.It wasn't until very late on Monday afternoon that I got some clues. You can see patches of rolling prairie as the local train jolts around the curve of the raised hills into the area.There are many eye-catching notice boards erected in the grass, cutting off the horizon in the distance.Most of the advertisements are food advertisements, followed by pharmaceutical advertisements.The ads are colorful and impressive rather than pretty.It stands out especially in the pale gray landscape of the east coast.Dare I say, the sheer number of advertisements was conspicuous in life at the time.Word and deeds have also kept many newspapers afloat.These ads cover food, beverages, tobacco, and pharmaceuticals, among others.These drugs are advertised as curing patients who have not responded to other drugs.No matter where you go, there will be eye-catching big characters to remind you.In addition, there are many large black and white boards with "Real Estate" written in various exaggerated fonts.At that time, seaside towns, streets, and construction areas were designated as private industrial areas.The coastline has been disfigured beyond recognition.This reminds me of a bit of a silly real estate speculation.Everywhere you can see the newly erected notice boards of real estate developers and the decayed notice boards.The poorly surveyed road was overgrown with weeds.At various corners, you can see signs that say "Trafalgar Road" or "Sea View Road", and you can also see some small investors, and some property shopkeepers bring their own people. A house built here or there with local builders.The houses were generally in bad locations, on a cheap lot, lonely, and of modest style.At this time, our train crossed a road.Then, there is a row of simple yellow brick houses... workers' huts, a piece of dirty black sheds.This made the "rationed housing" of the time a very glaring thing.

Arriving here shows that we are approaching the heartland.I checked the local guide map, "This is one of the most lovely scenic spots in Dongzao'ang Green Hibiscus Red Land." Next, I saw more dilapidated houses, huge and rough power plants, because there is no People have worked out how to make coal burn fully, so huge chimneys stand in power plants.Finally we got to the train station.The Recreation Center is less than a mile away. I examined the city thoroughly without asking anyone. Along the street are food stalls, an inn, and a carriage stop.I stopped for a moment at a red cottage partly hidden in a shrubby garden, and then turned sharply into the bright and slightly chaotic main street.This street is too disturbing.That afternoon, the shops were closed and the doors were closed, and the surrounding area was extremely quiet.In the distance, church bells were ringing somewhere.The children in their beautiful new clothes are going to Sunday school.Then I crossed the square in front of the plastered tenements.This small square is similar to the one in front of my building, only cleaner and tidier.Later, I walked into a small garden with asphalt and simao plants on the waterfront.I sat on a cast-iron chair and looked out over the wide stretch of sand.There was a changing cart with weird wheels on the beach, and it was plastered with advertisements for drugs.I saw boarding houses, private hotels, and rental houses clustered in terraced rows to my right and left.Then, I came to one end, where Kwon-ra's scaffolding indicated a building was being built; at the other end, out of a desolate lowland, a huge red hotel was rising.The restaurant dwarfs everything around it.To the north are white cliffs lined with jagged tents.All the local volunteers living there are camping.To the south is a deserted sand dune, with some shrubs and sparse pine clumps looming, and some billboards.A clear blue sky stands behind these scenes.The sun cast a shadow on the ground.To the east is the white sea.It's Sunday, people are having lunch at home... A wacky world!That's what I thought at the time.Of course, it will not feel weird to you now.After a short rest, I began to reconsider the business. How can I ask?What am I going to ask? I don't know what to do.At first, I was a little bit annoyed, a little tired, and then I had a series of thoughts.My idea is very ingenious.I made up the following story.I happen to be on holiday in Shavembury and I am taking the opportunity to find the owner of an expensive plumed boa.It was a young lady who dropped it at my uncle's hotel in Wyfel.At that time, the lady was with a young gentleman, who must have been a young newlywed couple.They arrived at Shavembury on Thursday.I retold the story many times and gave plausible names to my invented uncle and his hotel.In any case, these made-up stories will provide good reasons for my questions. I made up my mind, but sat still for a while, hoping to give myself some courage and strength, and then I turned back to the big hotel.The grand hotel seemed to me, with very little experience, to be where the rich young man from the rich family belonged. A very polite doorman in a neat green uniform turned the door open for me.He listened to my question, looked at my clothes, and then, speaking with a German accent, asked me to find their heads.He led me to the front desk to meet an elegant young man.He stood behind the polished brass counter, answering my questions, and kept tying my collar and tie.I know they must be shabby. "I would like to see a lady and a gentleman who are coming to Shavembury on Tuesday," said I. "Your friend?" he asked, with a very secretive smirk. I finally figured it out, they hadn't been here.Maybe they had lunch there, but they didn't live here.I reluctantly walked out of the hotel door.The doorman opened the door for me very politely.I did not look for another hotel that afternoon. My resolve wavered a bit.More and more people are walking.Their good looks embarrass me.The sharp tension made me forget my intentions.I felt the pistol bulge in my pocket especially.With fear and shame, I left the city and walked along the coast.Then, lay among pebbles and sea hibiscus. I was nervous all afternoon.At dusk, I came to the train station and asked the porter outside the door.I found that the bellman only recognized the luggage but not the person.And I don't know what luggage young Ferral and Nettie might be carrying. Later, I chatted with a man with a prosthetic leg and a gold ring.He looks bewitched, sweeping the steps leading from the square to the waterfront.He pays attention to the young couples who come here, but he only has some impressions, and he knows nothing about the special young people I am looking for.He mentioned things between men and women to me in some nasty way.At that moment, a Coast Guard ship appeared and interrupted my thoughts about holidays, seashores, lovers, morality.I have no regrets about it. As I walked, my shaken heart became firm again.I sat on a seat in the square, and the fiery red and bright sunset made the sunset in the west a bit dull.My noontime jitters are gone, and my blood is starting to heat up again.Thoughts of self-esteem and revenge took hold of me again.As I recall, this change in mood was very noticeable at the time.However, I did not feel this process clearly before.In the past, night and starlight had an intimacy that day seldom had.The night obscures the most salient aspects of human absurdity. I have a strange hallucination.That night, Nettie and her lover were cuddling close together, when suddenly I bumped into them.I have already said how I searched through the twilight to identify each approaching couple.But it was useless.In the end, I fell asleep in a shabby house.Decorated but vulgar scriptures hung in the bedrooms.I cursed myself for wasting another day. The next morning, again in vain, I could not find them.After noon, however, I began to find various and complicated clues one after another, and after failing to find any young couples connected with Ferrer and Nettie, I found four suspicious young couples. One of these four pairs may be just what I'm looking for.However, I'm not sure.They arrive on a Wednesday or Thursday.Two couples still had hotel rooms, but none stayed home, and by nightfall I ruled out a young man in brown denim.He had sideburns and long sleeves, and he was accompanied by a woman in her thirties who was consciously acting like a lady.Just seeing them makes me sick.Two other young men were taking long walks, and I stared at their dwellings till the flaming clouds shone on the horizon, sharing in the uncommon splendor of the setting sun, and immersing myself in them, but I still did not wait for them.Later, I found the two of them eating at a separate table under the square window.Candles with red shades burned among them, flashing here and there in a majestic color that was neither night nor day.The girl looked relaxed and pretty in a flamboyant evening dress -- pretty enough to make me angry!Her arms are beautiful and fair.Her cheeks turned, and the hair beside her ears overflowed with unfathomable joy.But she wasn't Nettie.The happy young man with her was that peculiar kind of fallen nobleman, always with the usual strange appearance: an extremely short chin, a big skinny and abrupt nose, a delicate little head, a listless expression, and That long neck and cuff-like neckline. I stood outside in the livid light of the shooting stars, hating them and cursing them for costing me so much precious time.I stood the whole time, obviously, they noticed me.In the blinding light I am a jealous shadow. That's what's been done at Shavembury.All I have to do now is track down that last pair. I went back to the square wondering what to do next.I muttered to myself.In that wondrous light one's mind is touched and a little dizzy.One pair had gone to London, the other to the village of Bungalow beyond the Bunn Cliffs.I don't know about that cliff. I went up to the street sweeper with the wooden prosthetic leg at the top of the steps. "Hi." I greeted him. He pointed his pipe at the sea.His silver ring gleamed blindingly in the setting sun. "How strange," he said. "What?" I asked. "Firelights! Smoke! The ship is heading north! If the Milky Way hadn't turned green right now, we'd have seen it." He was so engrossed that he didn't leave my question alone.Then, he turned his head and agreed. "Know Bungalow Village? Of course. That's where the artists go. Worth a visit. Co-ed baths are exciting?" "How do I get there?" I asked, feeling suddenly annoyed. "Look there!" he said. "What's that flickering thing? The flash of the guns! I've got it right this time." "Listen," I said, "people have been able to see lightning very close a long time ago." He didn't answer.It seemed that the only way I could turn him away from his single-minded meditation was to stop him and tell him what I wanted to know. At this time, he was attracted by the shining brilliance on the sea surface and the flying elves.So, I pushed him hard.Then, turning his head, he said, cursing, "Seven miles! Just follow this road. Now, get out!" I thanked him and then insulted him with some nasty words.Then, we broke up.I set off for the village of Bungalow. I meet a policeman.He was looking up at the stars in the sky.That place is near the square.I questioned the police again and confirmed the direction the man with the wooden leg was pointing. "That road is desolate, be careful!" he shouted behind me. I have a hunch.I'm finally on the right track.Shaffermbury behind him faded into the darkness.I quickly walked into the vast night, with the impulse of the traveler to reach the destination in my heart. I don't want to repeat the things during the long journey.I remember feeling more and more overwhelmed with fatigue.The surface of the sea is like a smooth and dazzling mirror, reflecting a vast silver light, and broad, slowly moving ripples pass across it.Blowing over and over again and again, as if someone gave out a weak sigh, the long sea surface was completely wrinkled, forming faint fish scale-like ripples, and then floating on the sea surface.Sometimes the road is sandy.It was a thick, silver-white sand.Sometimes the pavement is uneven chalk with glistening clods.Surrounded by scattered shrubs, sometimes in clumps, sometimes in solitary bunches lying on the drowsy sand.There is a wasteland in the distance, where ghostly flocks of sheep loom in the twilight.After walking for a while, a dark pine forest appeared ahead, densely packed along the roadside.The trees at the edge of the forest looked stunted and crooked.I imagined that the Witch of the Pinewood might appear alone, posing stiffly in front of me.So out of step with this environment, I came across a realtor's notice board that said, "Build if you want to buy." I still remember the constant barking of dogs coming from somewhere.I pulled out the gun several times and fiddled with it.Of course, as I did this, I never lost sight of my plan.I had to think about Nettie and revenge.However, I don't remember my emotions at the time. What I do remember now is that when I turned the gun in my hand, there were green gleams reflected on the bolt and barrel. Looking at the sky again, there is no moon, no stars, only a dim and magical starlight.Between the shooting star and the sea is the empty blue deep sky.Once, a strange phantom appeared!I saw three long black warships appearing on the shining sea in the distance, without masts, sails, fireworks, or lights.There was no sound, and after a while, when I looked again, the boats had shrunk, and the distant flash of light had swallowed them up. Then, there was a flash of light, which I thought was the flare of a bullet.Looking up, I saw a green dim tail still hanging in the sky.Then something moved and rustled in the air, and my pulse began to quicken, my energy increased, and my purpose became clearer. A fork in my path.I can't remember now whether it was closer to Shavembury, or closer to my destination.I still vividly remember being on two unrepaired roads, with lots of car marks, and I didn't know which way to go. Finally, I dozed off, and I walked over to where there was a huge pile of rotting seaweed.The carriages left many ruts on this road.Then I turned off the road and staggered up the sand dunes near the sea.I walked to the hazy seaside beach.Something phosphorescent drew me to the water's edge again.I bent down and watched the little glowing specks floating in the waves. Then, with a sigh, I stood up and gazed at the stillness of the wondrous night. The meteor dragged its glowing tail across the sky, then stopped.In the east, the sky began to appear a strange blue, the edge of the sea was a thick black, the shining light disappeared and became hazy.A faint, mysterious star could be seen just rising, looming in the impenetrable sky. What a beautiful night!How quiet! My emotions swelled up again.Suddenly, I burst into tears.My blood seems to have suddenly injected something novel, and I really don't want to kill people. I don't want to kill, I don't want to be a slave to my emotions.A burning desire made me escape from life, from the intense, fiery world of conflict and desire, into the cool, eternal night, where I would rest.I've played enough, I'm exhausted.I stood by the sea, and my heart was filled with the unspeakable feelings of the prayers.I especially hope that I can find peace. In a little while there will be a reddish veil in the east over these strange things, over this finite world, over everything in the gray and increasingly conspicuous dawn.I know my resolve is renewed.This night just gave me a break.But to-morrow I shall be William Leadford again; the gaunt, ragged, clumsy, shameless young man, the wounded man, the dangerous animal.I even feel sorry for my beloved mother.Life has no other meaning to me. If I don't die, I have to take revenge. Could such an insignificant thing be called revenge?My mind was thinking that I could call it a day and move on to other things. I waded through the shallows out to sea, into the warm, lapping waves of a mixture of water and light.I stood chest high in the water with the barrel in my mouth. why not? I turned around with difficulty again, and walked slowly up the beach, thinking deeply about... I turned back and looked at the sea.No!Something inside said, "No!" I had to think deeply. There were mounds and tangled bushes in front of me, and it was a bit of a hassle to go any further.I sat in a black bush and rested for a while with my chin in my hand.I took the pistol out of my pocket, looked at it, and then held it in my hand, thinking: Should I live or die? I seem to be exploring the meaning of existence.But, in reality, before I knew it, I fell asleep and fell asleep. ... Two people are bathing together in the sea water. I'm already awake.It was still bright night ahead.The blue in the clear sky is still the same as before. Both are in skin-tight swimsuits, revealing their youthful, glistening, dripping wet bodies.She looked back and found that he was considerate of her.So she started to run, waving her hands and letting out a little cry of joy.That cry pierced my heart.Then she slanted aboard the shipwreck, and came upon me like the wind, passed me, and disappeared into the dark, twisted jungle yonder.Both she and her pursuers were over the ridge in an instant. I heard his shouts, mixed with his exhausted laughter... Suddenly, like a ferocious beast, I supported my body on my hands, stood there firmly and stiffly, and put on a helpless fighting posture against the sky.In the midst of this struggle, images of the nimble, beautiful Nettie and the man who had fooled me flashed through my mind. So, I was furious.Thinking that I actually endured the pain and didn't want revenge, it would be better to die. In an instant, I was running staggeringly, gun in hand, across the soft, soundless sand dunes, to kill them without knowing it. I crossed the small sand ridge and found the bangloe wood I was looking for, half-hidden on the edge of a half-moon-shaped dune.There was a slam of the door, and the two running men disappeared.I stopped watching. Nearer to me there is a group of three bungalows with balconies.The two of them have entered one of them.I was late and didn't know which room they had entered.All the doors and windows were open, and there were no lights in the house. I finally stumbled across this village as a place carefully chosen by those with an artistic bent.They live a life of indulgence and informality, and are unwilling to live an expensive and artificial life in a seaside scenic spot.That kind of life is superior and elegant.As you must know, steam locomotive companies used to sell their cars in those days.After a few years, these carriages become obsolete.So, some smart people thought that they could be converted into small rooms for people to use in summer.Living in such a house is very fashionable for bohemian artists.These small converted homes feature vivid colors and wide verandas.This contrasts sharply with the monotonous and rigid buildings in the scenic area.Of course, these camp huts come with many inconveniences that one has to be willing to accept.Therefore, this vast Haidian is very romantic for those who pursue the spiritual level and some young people.Art tulle fabrics, banjos, Chinese lanterns and fried food are the hallmarks of people who know the place, I think.In my opinion, the people who squatted here were not only surprising but also elusive.Far more so than the imaginings the man with the wooden leg told me at Shavembury.After learning about the ways of the poor and being stimulated by their repressed desire for joy, I no longer see such things as easy, leisurely pleasures, but as a corrupt life.For the poor, for the dirty laborer, beauty and cleanliness do not exist. There used to be something cruel in the deepest part of the thing about love.At least, that's how I felt when I crossed the chasm of great change.Success in love seems to be a pride unmatched by anything, and failure in love seems to be a shame for a person. I had no idea that this cruel thread was tangled around my head and would become the thread of these emotions.I still believe my beliefs at the time were correct.I think: the feeling of all people who really love each other is a challenge, they laugh at the outside world in each other's arms.You go out to the world to love.These two were in love right in front of me.They go about their business with each other under the cruel watch.But there was a sword, a sharp sword, the last sharp edge of life lay between their roses.At any rate, if anything is true of others, of me and of my imagination, and it is true, it is that I have never lived in debauchery, and have never regarded love as a game.I express love strongly and tirelessly.Perhaps, it is for this that I have written some half-hearted love letters.Because I have a clear plan, I can't treat it as a game... The thought of Nettie's radiant image, of her willingness to abandon the man she had so easily conquered, filled me with a violent outrage.This anger burned my heart, my nerves, and my whole body. I quietly walked down from the sand dunes, and walked slowly towards the wild and weird village.I calmly long to die.A hazy hatred appeared in my weak body, and a sword of jealousy was unsheathed. I stopped and stood there thinking I had to do something. Can I knock on the door from room to room until one of the two answers?What if a servant gets in the way? I can just wait where I am, maybe until dawn!Staring at it all the time?Simultaneously…… All the surrounding houses are very quiet.If I walked quietly, I might get some news from an open window or something I could see or hear.Can I make a detour, crawl up to them, or walk straight to the door?She would certainly recognize me from a distance. The reason why I think so carefully is that I am afraid that if there is a quarrel, others will be alarmed. Eventually, these people will surround me and make it impossible for me to get out.Any minute they'd grab my gun, grab my hand.Also, are they using their real names here? "Bang!" I heard one sound, and another. I turned impatiently, as one encounters a perplexity, and gazed out to sea for four miles or so.A huge armored ship steamed swiftly across the silver-spotted sea, smoking.The ship's funnels were shooting red sparks into the night sky.Just as I turned around, the ship's guns fired red flames towards the sea, and at the same time, there appeared red flashes and streams of smoke between the sea and sky.That scene still haunts me.I was foolishly attracted by this love shadow.It's an irrelevant thing.What does this have to do with me! With a trembling whoosh, a rocket leaped from the ground behind the village, bursting into golden-red sparks.Then, I heard three or four loud bangs. The village was originally pitch black, but at this moment, the bright red square windows shivered, and one after another lit up.A mess of figures appeared, all looking towards the direction of the sea.A door opened and a narrow yellow light flashed, melting into the comet-lit night.This made me re-evaluate my actions. "Bang! Bang!" When I looked at the huge armored ship again, I saw a bunch of torch-like flames suddenly ejected, swinging behind the chimney.I heard the unusually loud noise of the ship's engines. I began to hear the voices of people in the village calling to each other.A figure in a white smock and hood appeared.It was a man in a bathrobe that looked like an Arab in a turban jacket.The man came out of a nearby room and stood there quietly.He put his hands over his eyes, looked out to sea, and then yelled into the house. The people in the house...the people I'm looking for!My fingers grip the pistol. This war seems absolutely absurd to me!I'm going to go around the dunes, and accept the three rooms inconspicuously from the side.This battle at sea may have just happened to help me, if it hadn't, my interest would have dissipated. "Bang! Bang!" Huge The trembling sound rose from beside me, shaking my heart.A moment later, Nettie appeared.Figures in light dressing gowns came out of the house one by one, and joined those who came out first.那个人用手指着大海，男高音似地解释着。我能听见一点。 “那是德国人！”他说，“打中了。” 有人在争吵，接着是嘈杂的争论声。我沿着我标好的圆环慢慢地往前走，一边走一边观察着这些人。 他们同时朝着一个共同的方向叫起来。于是，我也停下来，面对着大海的方向。 我看到一枚炮弹恰好偏离那艘大战舰，在 海面上腾起高高的喷泉似的水柱。接着，第二炮击起的水花离我们更近，然后，是第三炮、第四炮。忽然，一团巨大的烟雾向上腾起，掀起一股巨浪。烟尘就升起在刚才发射火箭的田头。尽管爆破声震耳欲聋，但那个男高音仍在大喊：“击中了！” 我定睛瞧了瞧！噢，当然了，我必须绕过房子，然后才能从后面走到那些人那儿。 一位异常激动的女人的声音在喊：“度蜜月的人们！度蜜月的人们！快看这里！” 在附近房子的阴影里有什么东西在闪光，有个男人在屋里回应着。I couldn't hear what he was saying.但是，突然，我听到内蒂清楚 地在喊：“我们正在洗澡。” 先出来的那个男人喊道：“你们没有听到炮声吗？仗打起来了！只有五英里远。” “啊？”屋里的声音，随之，一扇窗子打开了。 “快看那儿！” 因为我活动时发出了沙沙的响声，所以，我没听到回答。显然，这些人的注意力都集中在了这场战争，所以都没有朝我这张望。于是，我便直接朝着内蒂、我极度向往的黑暗中走去。 “看呀！”有人在喊，同时指着天空。 我往上瞥了一眼，开始注视着。天上的彗星形成条纹状，并拖着明亮的绿色的尾巴。它们在西边的地平线与天穹的中间向外辐射。在流星照亮的云层内，出现了溪水一样的流动。于是，一会向西涌出，一会向东涌出，同时，发出一阵劈啪的爆响，好像整个天空都被无形的手枪射击成零碎的光点。当时，我觉得流星正要过来帮助我们，成千上万个下落的光点像一个帘幕隔开了这个无意义的正在互相残杀的海洋。 “砰！”装甲舰上发出一枚炮弹。接着，又是“砰”的一声，正在追逐的巡洋舰用闪闪的炮火作为回应。 抬头仰望天上条纹状的抖动的光屑便觉得头晕目眩。我站定，一时觉得眼比较累，不仅仅是有点眩晕。我作了非常短暂的认真的思考。假如说，那些狂热的人是对的，那么这个世界的末日就要降临了。帕洛德曾经这样认为。该给他打多少分呢？忽然，我想，发生的这一切都是为了我复仇而准备的祭奠仪式。 高天在上，战争在下，这都是为我的行动而进行的轰轰烈烈的奏鸣曲，我听到内蒂的喊叫声不超过五十码。我又怒火中烧。我要让她去体会意想不到的死亡的感觉。我要拥有她！在隆隆的炮声和恐惧中，用一颗子弹拥有她。怀着这样的想法，我把我的声音提高到了可以听到的地步，我毫无顾忌地往前走，手里已握紧那只手枪。 五十码，四十码，三十码……那几个人仍然没有留意我。人数似乎更多了。此时，闪光的绿色的天空和战舰都显得更遥远了。有人个突然从屋里走出，打断了他们的谈话，提了个问题，然后就停下来。 突然，她发觉到了我的存在。那是内蒂。她的身体被卖弄风情的黑色长袍遮着。绿色的光照着她可爱的脸和白皙的脖颈上。我可以看到她脸上害怕的表情。在我向前走时，好像有什么东西抓取了她的心，使她动弹不得……这就是我射击的目标。 “砰！”装甲车上传来的炮击声就像是一声命令。 “乒！”子弹从我手中飞出。 do you know?我当时并不想击中她。真的，当时，我的确不想击中她！ “乒！”我紧接又开了一枪，接着向前迈了一大步，好像两枪都没击中。 她向我迈进了一两步，仍旧盯着我，接着，有人向这边跑来。我看见年轻的弗拉尔。 一个个头很大、身着浴袍，并戴着包头巾的陌生人走出来，像个屏风一样站在了他们的前面。那人很胖，像个外国人。他干涉此事似乎有点反常。他的脸上充满了惊讶与恐惧。他伸开双臂，张开双手，冲向我，好像一个人要拦住一匹因受惊而奔跑的马。他嘴里大声叫嚷，似乎想要劝阻我，但这不能起什么作用。 “别这样！你傻了！”我嘶哑地喊着，“不是你！”但他仍旧扫着内蒂。 作了极大的努力，我才克制住要射穿他那肥胖身体的冲动。无论如何，我知道不该射中他。一瞬间，我有点迟疑。接着，我就转过弯来，身体忽然向一旁侧过去。躲过他伸出的手臂，然后向左。于是，我发现了其他两个人正犹豫不决地站在我的面前。 我向空中连放了第三枪。子弹飞过他们的头顶。然后，我向他们跑过去。他们吓得四散奔逃，一会儿向左，一会儿向右跑。我被阻挡住了，在不到一码的地方一个赤褐色脸的年轻人从侧面跑来。他好像要抓住我。我没有躲闪，他向后退了一步，闪避着，然后伸出一只手臂防护着。于是，我意识到年轻的弗拉尔和内蒂就在我的面前。他正拽着她的胳膊帮助她跑。 "That's right!" I said. 我又扳响第四枪。由于没打中，我为自己而耻辱，我感到非常愤怒。我开始追寻他们，我要用枪筒顶着他们后背开枪， “这些家伙！”我说着，根本不理睬那些管闲事的人……。 “一码！”我气喘吁吁地大声对自己说。“一码！一直到那么近！小心，就这最后一次，没有第二次了。” 有人在追我，可能有许多人。我也不知道有多少人，我把他们都落在后面。我们三个人跑着。有一段，我几乎在追逐着前面迅速逃跑的人。 沙丘好像变成了月光照射的绿色的旋涡，空中响彻着雷声。一个绿色发光的朦朦胧胧的东西，围饶着我们在转。谁还服得上这东西是干什么的。 我们跑着。现在，最重要的是我的胜负。他们从一扇篱笆的裂缝中跑过去了，那篱笆好像是从地下冒出来的。接着，他们又向右跑。我注意到我们正跑在大道上。可是，这该死的绿色的烟雾使周围看不清楚。人似乎只有冲破这层薄雾才能前进。他们已经消失在雾中，我想着，拼命冲刺，一下子抢出十几英尺。 她摇摇晃晃地逃命。他抓着她的胳膊，拉着她狂奔。他们加速向左跑去。 我们又离开了大道来到了草地上。我觉得那像草。我被绊倒时，掉进一个沟里。沟里面充满了烟气。我爬起来，这时，他们却像幽灵一样消失在了周围青黑色的漩涡里。我还在追。 跑啊！跑啊！我跑得筋疲力尽。我喘息着，呻吟着，一边蹒跚地走着一边咒骂着。我感到大炮的轰鸣震耳欲聋，穿过了朦胧的雾气。 他们跑了！Everything is gone.但我仍在跑着。我又摔倒了。脚的周围有什么东西绊着我，可能是草或是石南属植物。但我看不清。只有烟气在我的膝周围打转儿。 这时，有一个声音在我脑子里回响，我想克服那黑暗的绿色帘幕一样的东西，可那东西却在不断地下沉，一层层，一叠叠。所有的东西都变得越来越黑。 我又做了最后一次疯狂的努力，举起手枪，冒险开了倒数第二枪，接着，就头向前昏倒在了地上。 看呀！那绿色的帘幕变成了黑色，然后，地球和我，都死过去了。