Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8 "Don't move!" the man shouted. He pointed a rifle at Victor's chest. He wasn't a Nazi; he was speaking French, and was wearing regular clothes. Paul had no idea who he could be. He wore a blue scarf across his face, like a bandit — or a murderer. Paul's heart stopped. He must be working for the Nazis!

第八章“不许动！”那人喊道。 他用步枪指着维克多的胸膛。 他不是纳粹；他说着法语，穿着普通的衣服。 保罗不知道自己是谁。 他脸上围着一条蓝围巾，像个强盗——或者杀人犯。 保罗的心跳停止了。他一定是为纳粹卖命！

He'd collect a big reward for catching Victor. And Paul? He'd get extra for him. Victor tried to talk to him. "My name is—" "Shut up!" the man said, his eyes darting all around. "Is anyone else with you?" "No," Victor said. "You better hope so. Now move it!" the man said. Before Paul knew it, they'd been shoved through the front door of the castle, pushed down a long, cold, and dark hallway, and thrown into a room. The door slammed shut. Paul's teeth were chattering, and not because it was cold in there. A foul smell of dead mice and centuries of rot rose up. If this wasn't a dungeon, Paul didn't know what it was. It felt haunted. But right now he wasn't afraid of any dragon or ghosts.

他会因为抓住维克多而得到一大笔赏金。 和保罗?他会给他额外的钱。 维克多试着和他说话。 “我的名字是——”“闭嘴！”那人说，他的眼睛四处扫视。 “还有其他人跟你在一起吗？”“不，”维克多说。 “你最好希望如此。现在把它挪开！”那人说。 保罗还没反应过来，他们就被推进了城堡的前门，被推进了一条又长又冷又黑的走廊，被扔进了一个房间。 门砰地关上了。保罗的牙齿在打战，并不是因为里面太冷。 一股死老鼠的恶臭和几个世纪以来腐烂的气味冒了出来。 如果这不是地牢，保罗不知道这是什么。 它让人觉得魂牵梦绕。但现在他不怕龙或鬼了。

All he could imagine was Stroop's yellowed eyes and smiling face when he shoved Gerard into the back of a truck. "Paul," Victor said quietly. "Stay calm. I think I know who that man is." "You do?" "I think he's in the resistance." "The resistance?" Paul asked. "I thought the Nazis killed them all." Victor shook his head. "No, Paul. There are still thousands left." "But aren't we on the same side?" "Yes," Victor said. "But they can't trust anyone. We may have stumbled into some kind of resistance hideout." "This castle?" "It makes sense, doesn't it?" Victor said. "You said it yourself. It's the one place the Nazis won't go." Paul was afraid to feel hopeful, but then the door swung open. Standing there was a tall man

他所能想象的就是当他把杰勒德推到一辆卡车的后面时，斯特鲁普泛黄的眼睛和微笑的脸。 “保罗，”维克多平静地说。 “保持冷静。我想我知道那个人是谁。” “你做什么?”“我认为他参加了抵抗运动。” “抵抗?”保罗问。 “我以为纳粹把他们都杀了。” 维克多摇了摇头。“不,保罗。 还有成千上万的人留下来。” “但我们不是站在同一边的吗？”“是的，”维克多说。 “但他们不能相信任何人。 我们可能无意中发现了什么抵抗组织的藏身处。” “这城堡?”“这很有道理，不是吗？”维克多说。 “你自己说的。这是纳粹不会去的地方。” 保罗不敢抱有希望，但门突然打开了。 站在那里的是一个高个子男人

with wild gray hair, glasses, and a thick mustache. Paul's knees went weak. It couldn't be… could it? Mr. Leon was supposed to be dead.

一头乱发，戴着眼镜，留着浓密的胡子。 保罗的膝盖发软了。不可能是……对吧？ 里昂先生应该已经死了。