Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7 Diaries were not Dan's thing — not even when they were in English and written by people he cared about. He kept his distance, trying to interest Saladin in a tin of tuna fish, while Nellie and Amy huddled over the leather-bound journal. Nellie was translating Maria Anna Mozart's flowery, old-fashioned script. "Anything good?" he called to them. "It's a tragedy," Amy replied. "Nannerl was one of the greatest musicians of her time. And yet very few people have even heard of her. She was a great genius — every bit as brilliant as her brother. But in those days, girls were just supposed to get married, and cook, and clean, and have babies." Dan looked disinterested. "I never heard of her brother, either — not until this contest. I mean, I've heard of Baby Mozart — you know, the video —"

丹不喜欢写日记——即使日记是用英语写的，是由他关心的人写的。 他保持着距离，试图让萨拉丁对一罐金枪鱼感兴趣，而内莉和艾米则挤在一起看那本皮革装订的杂志。 内莉正在翻译玛丽亚·安娜·莫扎特华丽的老式手稿。 “有什么好消息吗？”他向他们喊道。 “这是个悲剧，”艾米回答。 “南内尔是她那个时代最伟大的音乐家之一。 然而很少有人听说过她。 她是个伟大的天才，一点也不比她哥哥聪明。 但在那个年代，女孩只应该结婚、做饭、打扫卫生、生孩子。” 丹显得不感兴趣。“我也从来没听说过她哥哥——直到这次比赛。 我是说，我听说过小莫扎特——你知道，那个视频——”

Nellie scowled in his direction. "You'd still recognize a lot of his music. We're talking about some of the most famous melodies of all time. Even 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' — the music to that was written by Mozart." "You can only guess what Nannerl might have contributed if she'd been allowed to develop her talents," Amy added. "I don't care about music," countered Dan. "Did she contribute clues?" Amy shook her head. "There are no notes scribbled in the margins or anything like that." "There's a letter from her brother pasted in here," Nellie supplied, "but it seems like he's talking about the time he quit his job. He said he wanted to use his contract as toilet paper." "Really?" Dan was suddenly interested. "Mozart said that? Show me!" "It's in German, dweeb," his sister told him. "They have a word for toilet paper, too." "Yeah, but I didn't think a fancy guy like Mozart would know it." "Hold it!" Amy's voice was full of alarm. She

内莉朝他的方向皱起了眉头。 “你仍然能认出他的很多音乐。 我们在谈论一些有史以来最著名的旋律。 甚至《一闪一闪，小星星》——这首歌的配乐也是莫扎特写的。” “你只能猜测，如果让南内尔发挥自己的才能，她可能会做出什么贡献，”艾米补充道。 “我不在乎音乐，”丹反驳道。 “她提供线索了吗？”艾米摇了摇头。 “页边空白处没有潦草的注释或类似的东西。” “这里贴着一封她哥哥的信，”内莉补充说，“但他好像在说他辞职的事。 他说他想把合同当厕纸用。” “真的吗?”丹突然感兴趣了。 “莫扎特说的？”给我看!”“这是德语，笨蛋，”他姐姐告诉他。 “他们也有一个词来形容卫生纸。” “是的，但我不认为像莫扎特这样的高人会知道。” “抓住它!”艾米的声音里充满了惊恐。 她

turned the next leaf, peering intently at the spine of the notebook. "There are pages missing here! At least two. Look!" The three examined the diary closely. Amy was right. The thief had been extra careful to disguise his crime — the missing material had been cut out with a very sharp blade. The excision was almost unnoticeable. "Do you think Jonah did it?" Dan breathed. "I doubt it," Amy replied. "Why would he bother to hide the diary in the chandelier if he'd already taken the important parts out of it?" "To throw us off the trail of the real stuff?" Dan suggested. "Maybe, but remember — this book is over two hundred years old. Those pages could have been removed any time between then and now. For all we know, Nannerl cut them out herself because she spilled ink on them." "No offense, you guys," Nellie put in, "but I've been around your family long enough to know this has Cahill written all over it. I've never seen such a bunch of backstabbers in my life."

翻过下一页，专注地盯着笔记本的书脊。 “这里少了几页！”至少两个。 看!”三个人仔细地检查了日记。 艾米是对的。小偷非常小心地掩饰他的罪行——丢失的材料是用一把非常锋利的刀片切下来的。 切除几乎不明显。 “你认为是约拿干的吗？”丹呼吸。 “我对此表示怀疑，”艾米回答。 “既然他已经把日记里重要的部分拿走了，为什么还要把它藏在枝形吊灯里呢？”“为了不让我们知道真正的东西？”丹建议。 “也许吧，但别忘了——这本书已经有两百多年的历史了。 从那时到现在，这些页面随时都可能被删除。 我们都知道，是南奶奶自己剪的，因为她把墨水洒在上面了。” “各位，我无意冒犯，”内莉插嘴说，“但我在你们家待得够久了，知道这完全是卡荷尔的作风。 我这辈子从没见过这么一群背后捅刀子的人。”

"She's right," Dan said glumly. "Every time we think we're making progress on the thirty-nine clues, someone turns out to be a step ahead of us." "Calm down," Amy told him. "The real clue isn't the diary; it's the music. And we're the only ones who have that. Let's take it down to the lobby. I saw a piano there." They made a charming picture — the American girl at the piano and her younger brother at her side. It would have been nit-picking to notice that the sheet music was written on the back of a Eurail napkin, and that the girl played falteringly. "Good old Aunt Beatrice," Amy murmured to Dan. "She cut off my piano lessons so she could pinch a few more pennies." Aunt Beatrice was their grandmother's sister and their legal guardian. It was thanks to Aunt Beatrice that Amy and Dan were now fugitives from Social Services in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. "Play the new stuff," Dan suggested. "The part that isn't in the real song. Maybe a trapdoor will

“她说得对。”丹闷闷不乐地说。 “每次我们以为在这39条线索上取得了进展时，就会有人比我们先走一步。” “冷静点，”艾米告诉他。 “真正的线索不是日记；是音乐。 我们是唯一拥有这种能力的人。 我们到大厅去吧。 我看见那儿有一架钢琴。”他们画了一幅迷人的图画——美国女孩在弹钢琴，她的弟弟在她身边。 如果注意到乐谱是写在一张欧洲铁路餐巾纸的背面，而且那个女孩演奏得结结巴巴，那就太吹毛求疵了。 “善良的比阿特丽斯阿姨，”艾米低声对丹说。 “她不让我上钢琴课，这样她就能多挣几个便士。” 比阿特丽斯姨妈是他们祖母的妹妹，也是他们的法定监护人。 多亏了比阿特丽斯姨妈，艾米和丹才得以从马萨诸塞州联邦的社会福利机构中逃亡。 “玩新东西，”丹建议。 “真正的歌曲中没有的部分。 也许活板门可以

open, or we'll call up the Cahill genie or something." She tried it, a light, airy melody, very different from the heavier classical piece around it. Suddenly, there was a woman standing beside the piano, lifting her voice in song. The lyrics were German, but it was obvious that the tune was familiar and brought the lady pleasure. "You know this song!" Amy exclaimed. "Is it by Mozart?" "Nein — not Mozart. It is an old Austrian folk song called 'Der Ort, wo ich geboren war.' This means in your language 'The Place Where I Was Born.' Thank you for playing it, my dear. I haven't heard it for many years." Amy grabbed Dan and hauled him to the privacy of a small alcove with a fireplace. "That's it! That's the clue!" "What? Some old song?" "It was a message between Mozart and Ben Franklin!" Dan was bug-eyed. "Okay, but what does it say?"

打开，否则我们会叫来卡希尔精灵什么的。” 她试了试，这是一段轻快轻快的旋律，与周围较重的古典乐曲截然不同。 突然，一个女人站在钢琴旁边，高唱着歌。 歌词是德语，但很明显，曲调很熟悉，给这位女士带来了快乐。 “你知道这首歌！”艾米喊道。 “是莫扎特的吗？”“不——不是莫扎特。 这是一首古老的奥地利民歌，名为“Der Ort, which geboren war”。这在你们的语言中是“我出生的地方”的意思。谢谢你弹，亲爱的。 我好多年没听过了。” 艾米抓住丹，把他拖到一个带壁炉的小壁龛里。 “就是它!这就是线索！”“什么? 什么老歌？”“这是莫扎特和本·富兰克林之间的信息！”丹睁大了眼睛。 “好吧，但上面写了什么？”

"It says 'come to the place where I was born.' Mozart was born in the town of Salzburg, in the Austrian Alps. And that's where we have to go." The rental car was an old Fiat that squeaked in every joint and didn't like going up Alps but didn't mind coasting down the other side of them. Part of this might have been Nellie's fault. She'd never driven a stick shift before. "That's just great for a trip into the mountains," Dan complained. "Hey — you want to get behind the wheel?" Nellie demanded, insulted. And Dan said yes so readily that she was sorry she'd asked. Saladin spent the entire three-hour drive carsick. But luckily, since the cat wasn't eating anything, he also had nothing to throw up. The trip would have been roomier and much more pleasant on the train. But their encounter with the Holts on the ride from Paris had soured them on travel by rail. On a public train, they were too easy to spot. They could be more anonymous in a car. With the latest lead in their

“上面写着‘到我出生的地方来吧。莫扎特出生在奥地利阿尔卑斯山的萨尔茨堡镇。 这就是我们要去的地方。” 租来的车是一辆老菲亚特，到处都吱吱作响，不喜欢爬阿尔卑斯山，但不介意从另一边滑下来。 这也有一部分是内莉的错。 她以前从没开过手动挡。 丹抱怨道：“这对山里的旅行来说太棒了。” “嘿——你想开车吗？”耐莉问道，觉得受到了侮辱。 丹爽快地答应了，她都后悔问了。 萨拉丁在三个小时的车程中晕车。 但幸运的是，因为猫没有吃任何东西，他也没有呕吐。 在火车上旅行会更宽敞，也会更愉快。 但他们在从巴黎出发的路上遇到了霍尔特夫妇，这让他们对坐火车旅行产生了反感。 在公共火车上，他们太容易被发现了。 他们在车里更隐蔽。 最新的线索在他们