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双语·魔法师的外甥 第八章 灯柱前的搏斗

所属教程:译林版·魔法师的外甥

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2022年04月27日

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“Ho! Hempress, are you? We’ll see about that,” said a voice. Then another voice said, “Three cheers for the Hempress of Colney ’Atch” and quite a number joined in. A flush of colour came into the Witch’s face and she bowed ever so slightly. But the cheers died away into roars of laughter and she saw that they had only been making fun of her: A change came over her expression and she changed the knife to her left hand. Then, without warning, she did a thing that was dreadful to see. Lightly, easily, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world, she stretched up her right arm and wrenched off one of the cross-bars of the lamp-post. If she had lost some magical powers in our world, she had not lost her strength; she could break an iron bar as if it were a stick of barley-sugar. She tossed her new weapon up in the air, caught it again, brandished it, and urged the horse forward.

“Now’s my chance,” thought Digory. He darted between the horse and the railings and began going forward. If only the brute would stay still for a moment he might catch the Witch’s heel. As he rushed, he heard a sickening crash and a thud. The Witch had brought the bar down on the chief policeman’s helmet: the man fell like a nine-pin.

“Quick, Digory. This must be stopped,” said a voice beside him. It was Polly, who had rushed down the moment she was allowed out of bed.

“You are a brick,” said Digory. “Hold on to me tight. You’d have to manage the ring. Yellow, remember. And don’t put it on till I shout.”

There was a second crash and another policeman crumpled up. There came an angry roar from the crowd: “Pull her down. Get a few paving-stones. Call out the Military.” But most of them were getting as far away as they could. The Cabby, however, obviously the bravest as well as the kindest person present, was keeping close to the horse, dodging this way and that to avoid the bar, but still trying to catch Strawberry’s head.

The crowd booed and bellowed again. A stone whistled over Digory’s head. Then came the voice of the Witch, clear like a great bell, and sounding as if, for once, she were almost happy.

“Scum! You shall pay dearly for this when I have conquered your world. Not one stone of your city will be left. I will make it as Charn, as Felinda, as Sorlois, as Bramandin.”

Digory at last caught her ankle. She kicked back with her heel and hit him in the mouth. In his pain he lost hold. His lip was cut and his mouth full of blood. From somewhere very close by came the voice of Uncle Andrew in a sort of trembling scream. “Madam—my dear young lady—for heaven’s sake—compose yourself.” Digory made a second grab at her heel, and was again shaken off. More men were knocked down by the iron bar. He made a third grab: caught the heel: held on like grim death, shouting to Polly “Go!” then—Oh, thank goodness. The angry, frightened faces had vanished. The angry, frightened voices were silenced. All except Uncle Andrew’s. Close beside Digory in the darkness, it was wailing on “Oh, oh, is this delirium? Is it the end? I can’t bear it. It’s not fair. I never meant to be a Magician. It’s all a misunderstanding. It’s all my godmother’s fault; I must protest against this. In my state of health too. A very old Dorsetshire family.”

“Bother!” thought Digory. “We didn’t want to bring him along. My hat, what a picnic. Are you there, Polly?”

“Yes, I’m here. Don’t keep on shoving.”

“I’m not,” began Digory, but before he could say anything more, their heads came out into the warm, green sunshine of the wood. And as they stepped out of the pool Polly cried out:

“Oh look! We’ve brought the old horse with us too. And Mr. Ketterley. And the Cabby. This is a pretty kettle of fish!”

As soon as the Witch saw that she was once more in the wood she turned pale and bent down till her face touched the mane of the horse. You could see she felt deadly sick. Uncle Andrew was shivering. But Strawberry, the horse, shook his head, gave a cheerful whinny, and seemed to feel better. He became quiet for the first time since Digory had seen him. His ears, which had been laid flat back on his skull, came into their proper position, and the fire went out of his eyes.

“That’s right, old boy,” said the Cabby, slapping Strawberry’s neck. “That’s better. Take it easy.”

Strawberry did the most natural thing in the world. Being very thirsty (and no wonder) he walked slowly across to the nearest pool and stepped into it to have a drink. Digory was still holding the Witch’s heel and Polly was holding Digory’s hand. One of the Cabby’s hands was on Strawberry; and Uncle Andrew, still very shaky, had just grabbed on the Cabby’s other hand.

“Quick,” said Polly, with a look at Digory. “Greens!”

So the horse never got his drink. Instead, the whole party found themselves sinking into darkness. Strawberry neighed; Uncle Andrew whimpered. Digory said, “That was a bit of luck.”

There was a short pause. Then Polly said, “Oughtn’t we to be nearly there now?”

“We do seem to be somewhere,” said Digory. “At least I’m standing on something solid.”

“Why, so am I, now that I come to think of it,” said Polly. “But why’s it so dark? I say, do you think we got into the wrong Pool?”

“Perhaps this is Charn,” said Digory. “Only we’ve got back in the middle of the night.”

“This is not Charn,” came the Witch’s voice. “This is an empty world. This is Nothing.”

And really it was uncommonly like Nothing. There were no stars. It was so dark that they couldn’t see one another at all and it made no difference whether you kept your eyes shut or open. Under their feet there was a cool, flat something which might have been earth, and was certainly not grass or wood. The air was cold and dry and there was no wind.

“My doom has come upon me,” said the Witch in a voice of horrible calmness.

“Oh don’t say that,” babbled Uncle Andrew. “My dear young lady, pray don’t say such things. It can’t be as bad as that. Ah—Cabman—my good man—you don’t happen to have a flask about you? A drop of spirits is just what I need.”

“Now then, now then,” came the Cabby’s voice, a good firm, hardy voice. “Keep cool everyone, that’s what I say. No bones broken, anyone? Good. Well there’s something to be thankful for straight away, and more than anyone could expect after falling all that way. Now, if we’ve fallen down some diggings—as it might be for a new station on the Underground—someone will come and get us out presently, see! And if we’re dead—which I don’t deny it might be—well, you got to remember that worse things ’appen at sea and a chap’s got to die sometime. And there ain’t nothing to be afraid of if a chap’s led a decent life. And if you ask me, I think the best thing we could do to pass the time would be sing a ’ymn.”

And he did. He struck up at once a harvest thanksgiving hymn, all about crops being “safely gathered in.” It was not very suitable to a place which felt as if nothing had ever grown there since the beginning of time, but it was the one he could remember best. He had a fine voice and the children joined in; it was very cheering. Uncle Andrew and the Witch did not join in.

Toward the end of the hymn Digory felt someone plucking at his elbow and from a general smell of brandy and cigars and good clothes he decided that it must be Uncle Andrew. Uncle Andrew was cautiously pulling him away from the others. When they had gone a little distance, the old man put his mouth so close to Digory’s ear that it tickled, and whispered:

“Now, my boy. Slip on your ring. Let’s be off.”

But the Witch had very good ears. “Fool!” came her voice and she leaped off the horse. “Have you forgotten that I can hear men’s thoughts? Let go the boy. If you attempt treachery I will take such vengeance upon you as never was heard of in all worlds from the beginning.”

“And,” added Digory, “if you think I’m such a mean pig as to go off and leave Polly—and the Cabby—and the horse in a place like this, you’re well mistaken.”

“You are a very naughty and impertinent little boy,” said Uncle Andrew.

“Hush!” said the Cabby. They all listened.

In the darkness something was happening at last. A voice had begun to sing. It was very far away and Digory found it hard to decide from what direction it was coming. Sometimes it seemed to come from all directions at once. Sometimes he almost thought it was coming out of the earth beneath them. Its lower notes were deep enough to be the voice of the earth herself. There were no words. There was hardly even a tune. But it was, beyond comparison, the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. It was so beautiful he could hardly bear it. The horse seemed to like it too; he gave the sort of whinney a horse would give if, after years of being a cab-horse, it found itself back in the old field where it had played as a foal, and saw someone whom it remembered and loved coming across the field to bring it a lump of sugar.

“Gawd!” said the Cabby. “Ain’t it lovely?”

Then two wonders happened at the same moment. One was that the voice was suddenly joined by other voices; more voices than you could possibly count. They were in harmony with it, but far higher up the scale: cold, tingling, silvery voices. The second wonder was that the blackness overhead, all at once, was blazing with stars. They didn’t come out gently one by one, as they do on a summer evening. One moment there had been nothing but darkness; next moment a thousand, thousand points of light leaped out—single stars, constellations, and planets, brighter and bigger than any in our world. There were no clouds. The new stars and the new voices began at exactly the same time. If you had seen and heard it, as Digory did, you would have felt quite certain that it was the stars themselves which were singing, and that it was the First Voice, the deep one, which had made them appear and made them sing.

“Glory be!” said the Cabby. “I’d ha’ been a better man all my life if I’d known there were things like this.”

The Voice on the earth was now louder and more triumphant; but the voices in the sky, after singing loudly with it for a time, began to get fainter. And now something else was happening.

Far away, and down near the horizon, the sky began to turn grey. A light wind, very fresh, began to stir. The sky, in that one place, grew slowly and steadily paler. You could see shapes of hills standing up dark against it. All the time the Voice went on singing.

There was soon light enough for them to see one another’s faces. The Cabby and the two children had open mouths and shining eyes; they were drinking in the sound, and they looked as if it reminded them of something. Uncle Andrew’s mouth was open too, but not open with joy. He looked more as if his chin had simply dropped away from the rest of his face. His shoulders were stopped and his knees shook. He was not liking the Voice. If he could have got away from it by creeping into a rat’s hole, he would have done so. But the Witch looked as if, in a way, she understood the music better than any of them. Her mouth was shut, her lips were pressed together, and her fists were clenched. Ever since the song began she had felt that this whole world was filled with a Magic different from hers and stronger. She hated it. She would have smashed that whole world, or all worlds, to pieces, if it would only stop the singing. The horse stood with its ears well forward, and twitching. Every now and then it snorted and stamped the ground. It no longer looked like a tired old cab-horse; you could now well believe that its father had been in battles.

The eastern sky changed from white to pink and from pink to gold. The Voice rose and rose, till all the air was shaking with it. And just as it swelled to the mightiest and most glorious sound it had yet produced, the sun arose.

Digory had never seen such a sun. The sun above the ruins of Charn had looked older than ours: this looked younger. You could imagine that it laughed for joy as it came up. And as its beams shot across the land the travellers could see for the first time what sort of place they were in. It was a valley through which a broad, swift river wound its way, flowing eastward toward the sun. Southward there were mountains, northward there were lower hills. But it was a valley of mere earth, rock and water; there was not a tree, not a bush, not a blade of grass to be seen. The earth was of many colours: they were fresh, hot and vivid. They made you feel excited; until you saw the Singer himself, and then you forgot everything else.

It was a Lion. Huge, shaggy, and bright, it stood facing the risen sun. Its mouth was wide open in song and it was about three hundred yards away.

“This is a terrible world,” said the Witch. “We must fly at once. Prepare the Magic.”

“I quite agree with you, Madam,” said Uncle Andrew. “A most disagreeable place. Completely uncivilized. If only I were a younger man and had a gun—”

“Garn!” said the Cabby. “You don’t think you could shoot ’im, do you?”

“And who would?” said Polly.

“Prepare the Magic, old fool,” said Jadis.

“Certainly, Madam,” said Uncle Andrew cunningly. “I must have both the children touching me. Put on your homeward ring at once, Digory.” He wanted to get away without the Witch.

“Oh, it’s rings, is it?” cried Jadis. She would have had her hands in Digory’s pocket before you could say knife, but Digory grabbed Polly and shouted out:

“Take care. If either of you come half an inch nearer, we two will vanish and you’ll be left here for good. Yes: I have a ring in my pocket that will take Polly and me home. And look! My hand is just ready. So keep your distance. I’m sorry about you,” (he looked at the Cabby) “and about the horse, but I can’t help that. As for you two,” (he looked at Uncle Andrew and the Queen) “you’re both magicians, so you ought to enjoy living together.”

“’Old your noise, everyone,” said the Cabby. “I want to listen to the moosic.”

For the song had now changed.

“哦!你是女王?我们得弄弄清楚,”一个声音说。另一个声音接着喊:“让我们为疯人院的女王三呼万岁吧!”不少人跟着喊了起来。女巫红光满面,微微地鞠了一躬。但欢呼声立刻变成一阵哄笑,她知道这些人在寻她开心。她脸色一变,把刀换到了左手,不等人们反应过来,就干了一件可怕的事情。她伸出右臂,轻轻松松就将灯柱上的一根横杆扭了下来,仿佛干了一件世界上最平常的事儿。虽说她的魔力在我们的世界丧失了,可她的气力依然存在;她可以将一根铁棍像麦芽糖似的掰断。她将这件新武器抛了起来,又一把接住,挥舞着,策马前进。

“机会来啦,”迪格雷想到这里,一个箭步冲到马和栅栏之间,开始奋力追赶。只要那牲口稍微一停,他就能抓住女巫的脚后跟。正当他往前冲去,只听见闷头闷脑的“哐”的一声,女巫的铁棍已砸在那个警察头子的头盔上:他像根柱子似的倒了下去。

“快,迪格雷,得制止她,”背后传来一个声音。正是波莉!她一经允许下床,就往这里赶了过来。

“你可真是好样的,”迪格雷说。“紧紧拉住我。你来管戒指,那枚黄的。记好喽,我一喊你就戴上。”

又“哐”的一声,另一名警察倒了下去。人群中发出愤怒的吼声:“把她拖下来。拿铺路石砸她。快去叫军队。”可大多数人都尽量避得远远的。然而,在场所有人中最勇敢、心肠最好的,显然要算那位马车夫了。他左躲右闪地避开铁棍,逼近了马,试图抓住马头。

人群又骚动了起来,乱糟糟地一阵吼叫。一块石头嗖的一声从迪格雷头上飞过,紧接着便传来女巫洪钟般的嗓音,听起来似乎十分得意:

“浑蛋!等我征服了你们的世界,你们要为此付出沉痛的代价。我要毁掉你们的城市,毁得像恰恩、费林达、索罗瓦和布拉满丁一样,寸土不留。”

迪格雷终于抓到了她的脚踝。她一脚反踢,后跟正中迪格雷的嘴巴。他疼得撒开了手,嘴唇被踢破了,满嘴鲜血。从很近的什么地方传来了安德鲁舅舅的声音,喊得嗓子都颤了起来:“夫人——我亲爱的年轻女士——看在上帝的分上——快住手吧。”迪格雷再次抓住了她的脚后跟,但又被甩开了。更多的人被她的铁棍击倒了。他第三次抓住她的脚后跟,死死地抓住,接着对波莉大喊一声“走”!接着——哦,谢天谢地,愤怒而惊恐的脸庞一张张消失了,愤怒而惊恐的声音也沉寂了下来,除了黑暗中从迪格雷身旁传来一阵呜咽,那是安德鲁舅舅在哭诉:“噢,噢,我中邪了吗?要完蛋了吗?我受不了啦。太不公平了。我从未想过要当魔法师。全是误会。都怪我的教母;我要抗议。我都这把老骨头了。古老的多塞特郡家族啊。”

“真倒霉!”迪格雷心想。“咱们可不想带上他。好家伙,一切顺利。你在那里吗,波莉?”

“嘿,我在这里。别老推我。”

“我没推,”迪格雷刚一开口,还没来得及说下去,他们的头就钻出了水潭,又来到了那片温暖、葱郁、阳光明媚的树林里。一出水潭,波莉就大叫起来:

“喂,快看!我们把那匹老马也带来了,还有凯特利先生,还有那马车夫。真是一团糟了!”

女巫一看自己又到了那片树林里,脸色即刻变得惨白。她弯下腰去,把脸贴在了马鬃上,你看得出她非常难受。安德鲁舅舅浑身哆嗦着。倒是草莓,那匹马,摇头晃脑,还快活地嘶叫了一声,好像安静多了。自从迪格雷见到它,它就没这么安静过。先前,它的耳朵一直朝后贴在脑袋上,现在恢复了正常的位置,眼里的怒火也消失了。

“这就对了,好伙计,”马车夫一边说,一边拍着草莓的脖子,“这样就好了,别紧张啊。”

草莓干了一件世界上再自然不过的事。它太口渴了(这也难怪),于是慢慢走到最近的一个水潭边,跨进去喝起水来。迪格雷依然抓着女巫的脚后跟,波莉则拉着迪格雷的手。马车夫的一只手搭在草莓身上,另一只手被仍在哆嗦的安德鲁舅舅紧紧抓着。

“快!”波莉朝迪格雷使了个眼色,喊道。“绿戒指!”

于是,还没等马儿喝上水,整群人便又坠入了黑暗。草莓嘶吼着;安德鲁舅舅啜泣着。迪格雷则说:“运气还不赖。”

突然间停顿了一下子,波莉问:“我们怎么还没到呢?”

“我们确实像是到了什么地方,”迪格雷说,“至少我有地方落脚了。”

“咦,你这么一说,我倒也这么觉得了,”波莉说,“可怎么会那么黑呢?我说,我们是不是跳错水潭了?”

“也许恰恩就是这样,”迪格雷说,“只不过我们是半夜回来的。”

“这里不是恰恩,”传来了女巫的声音,“这是个虚无之国,这里空无一物。”

这里确实像是个虚无之国。天空中没有一颗星星,黑暗中谁也看不见谁,眼睛睁开和闭上没什么区别。他们正踩在一块凉飕飕的平地上,那可能是泥土,而不太会是草地或者木头。空气又冷又干,一丝风也没有。

“我的末日到了,”女巫说得异常平静,平静得让人恐惧。

“哦,别这么说,”安德鲁舅舅语无伦次地说,“我亲爱的年轻女士,求您了,快别这么说了,事情没那么严重。啊——马车夫——我的好人——你不会正巧没带酒瓶来吧?我需要来口烈酒。”

“听好喽,听好喽,”马车夫操着他那副坚定而洪亮的好嗓音喊道,“听俺说,大伙儿,都安静。没有人跌断骨头,是吧?很好。嗯,真得感谢老天爷,这么摔下来,真没想到居然没事儿。要是咱们掉在了工地上——例如一个新地铁站——很快就会有人过来把咱们给撵出去的,肯定!咱们要是死了——这很难说——那么,你们该记得出海比这更糟,人嘛,总是要死的。一个人体体面面地活过啦,死也就没啥好怕的了。你们要是想打发一下时间,让俺看呀,最好的法子莫过于唱一首圣歌了。”

他说着就唱了起来,唱了一首收获感恩颂,感谢庄稼被“顺利收进了仓”。在一个似乎打创世以来便寸草不生的地方唱这种歌,是不怎么合适的,可这是他记得最清楚的一首歌了。他有一副好嗓子,于是孩子们也跟着唱了起来,唱得欢天喜地的。只有安德鲁舅舅和女巫没有加入。

歌快唱完时,迪格雷觉得有人在拽他的胳膊。从那股白兰地和雪茄的浓烈气味以及那身考究的行头,他判断那一定是安德鲁舅舅。安德鲁舅舅偷偷地把他从人群中拉了出来,拉到一边后,这老家伙把嘴凑近迪格雷的耳边——触得他耳朵直痒痒——鬼头鬼脑地说:

“来吧,我的孩子,戴上戒指,咱们开溜吧。”

女巫的耳朵异常灵敏。“蠢货!”她大喊一声,从马旁边跳了过来。“你忘了我能听见人的心思吗?放开那男孩。你要敢违抗我的命令,我就用有史以来闻所未闻的手段来报复你。”

“听着,”迪格雷补充道,“你要是以为我是一头卑鄙的猪,可以抛下波莉、马车夫和那匹马,只管自个儿溜走,那就大错而特错了。”

“好个没规矩的野小子,”安德鲁舅舅说。

“静一静!”马车夫说。他们都竖起了耳朵。

终于,黑暗中出现了一丝动静。一个声音唱了起来。声音从很远的地方传来,迪格雷辨不清它是从哪个方向传来的。有时,声音似乎从四面八方一股脑儿涌来。有时,他又觉得声音像是从他们的地底下传来的。声音低下去时就像从大地发出似的。没有歌词,也没有曲调,然而迪格雷却觉得它无与伦比,可以说是他所听过的最美妙的声音了。那声音美得让他受不了。那匹马似乎也喜欢;它嘶叫了几声,仿佛拉了多年的车以后,又踏上了童年时代嬉戏过的故土,并看见有个它记得的并爱着的人,正拿着糖块穿过田野向它走来。

“天哪,”马车夫说,“真好听啊!”

过了会儿,两个奇迹就在同时发生了。第一个奇迹是:突然间跟着响起了许多其他的声音,多得你都数不过来。它们与那个声音配合得十分和谐,但音阶却高得多:声音冷冰冰的,银铃似的叮叮咚咚响着。第二个奇迹是:头顶的黑暗中突然群星闪耀。它们不是像在夏季夜空中那样一颗接一颗闪现的,而是从漆黑中,一下子跃出了成千上万的恒星、行星以及星座,都比我们世界里的要大得多、亮得多。天空中万里无云。新的星星和新的声音恰在同时出现。你要是像迪格雷那样亲眼看见并亲耳听见的话,便会相当肯定,那唱着歌的正是那些星星,而使它们显现并歌唱的,正是第一个低沉的声音。

“多壮观呀!”马车夫说。“要是早知道这等事儿,俺这辈子能做个更好的人呢。”

地上的声音更嘹亮、更雄赳赳的了;然而天上的声音,在与地上的声音一阵嘹亮的合唱之后,便开始沉寂下去。这时,另一件事情发生了。

在很远处,靠近地平线的地方,天空慢慢灰了起来。一阵清风腾地而起。天上那块地方的颜色一点一点变得暗淡,高耸的群山在它的映衬下显出黑暗的轮廓。那声音仍在这么唱着。

不一会儿,天色已经亮到能看清对方的脸了。马车夫和那两个孩子张大了嘴,目光闪烁,沉醉在歌声之中;那歌声仿佛使他们想起了什么。安德鲁舅舅也张大了嘴,但不是高兴得张嘴,他看上去更像下巴从脸上脱落了。他肩膀耷拉着,膝盖颤抖着。他不喜欢那个声音。要是能钻到老鼠洞里去躲一躲的话,他早钻进去了。但女巫似乎比任何人更能理解那种音乐。她抿着嘴,双唇紧闭,拳头紧握。歌声刚响起,她就感到这个世界充满着一种与她不同的魔力,但比她的更为强大。她恨这种魔力。为了阻止那歌声,她不惜捣毁这个世界以至所有的世界。马儿站在那里,耳朵前伸,不停地抽动着,还时不时打几个响鼻并用蹄子跺几下地面。已经看不出它是匹疲惫不堪的拉车老马了,你现在完全可以相信它的爹曾冲锋陷阵过。

东边的天际由白色转成粉色,又由粉色转成了金色。那声音越升越高,最后连空气都随之震颤起来。声音升到最嘹亮、最雄伟的那一刻,太阳升起来了。

迪格雷从未见过这样的太阳。恰恩废墟上空的太阳看起来比我们的太阳年迈,而这轮太阳却比我们的年轻。你可以想象,它是兴高采烈地升起来的。当阳光普照着大地,他们第一次看清了自己到了一个什么样的地方。那是一个峡谷,一条宽阔而汹涌的河流蜿蜒而过,往东奔向太阳升起的地方。南边大山耸立,北边丘陵起伏。峡谷里只有泥土、岩石和水,没有树,也没有灌木,连一片草叶都见不到。泥土是五颜六色的,新鲜、温热,充满蓬勃生机,令你感到激动。而当你亲眼看到了那位歌唱者,便把其余的一切全抛脑后了。

唱歌的是一头狮子。它体形庞大,毛发浓密,生气勃勃,面朝升起的太阳站着。它张大嘴巴唱着歌,离他们大约三百码远。

“这个世界太恐怖了,”女巫说,“我们得马上离开。准备施魔法吧。”

“我太同意您了,夫人,”安德鲁舅舅说。“这地方真让人讨厌,十足的荒蛮。我要是年轻力壮,还有一杆枪的话——”

“枪!”马车夫说。“难道你想射死它,不是吧?”

“谁要射死它?”波莉问。

“准备施魔法,老蠢货,”简蒂丝说。

“遵命,夫人,”安德鲁舅舅狡猾地说。“我得让两个孩子抓着我。马上戴上回去的戒指,迪格雷,”他想撇下女巫溜之大吉。

“哦,原来是戒指搞的鬼,对吗?”简蒂丝吼叫起来。说时迟那时快,眼看她的手就要伸进迪格雷的口袋了,迪格雷一把拉过波莉,大声说:

“别乱来!你俩要敢过来半步,我俩就立马消失,你们可就永远留在这里啦。对,我口袋里有一枚戒指,能带我和波莉回家。看!我一下子就能够着。快给我退回去。我对你很抱歉,”(他看着马车夫)“也对不起那匹马,但我没有办法。至于你俩,”(他看着安德鲁舅舅和女巫)“你们都是魔法师,应该很高兴在一起生活。”

“大伙儿别吵啦,”马车夫说,“俺想听会儿这音乐。”

因为这时候歌声已经变了。

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