Text 1

Danger by Candlelight

by Allan A. Macfarlan

    In World War II, France was occupied by Nazi Germany. The French people led by the Free French fought bravely against the Nazi invaders. Under such conditions what was French children's life like? Did they also do their best to help their country? In the following story, you will see how two children acted boldly and cleverly in times of danger to protect a capsule that contained important information.

    Into the humble home of Armand Bernaud, in the Grande Rue, Dieppe, suspense and the shadow of death were invited, although they were most unwelcome guests. These twin terrors too often went hand in hand with patriotism during the Second World War. Particularly was this true in sections of France occupied by the invading Nazi army. Every French civilian was a possible spy, and the Kommandant of Dieppe kept close watch on their activities. No home was safe from the sudden visit of his Gestapo, or secret agents, at any hour of the day or night.

    Armand Bernaud had been a prisoner of war since the fall of the Maginot Line, but his brave wife served France ably during the Nazi occupation. Not only was her own life in danger, but also that of her son Jacques and her little daughter Jacqueline. Although Jacques was only twelve years old, he had already helped the Free French Underground movement a number of times. He had carried messages and acted as lookout, the people of the Underground hoping that his youth and the fact that he was small for his age would keep him from being suspected by the Nazis. Should he be caught, both Jacques and the Underground knew what his fate would be. Jacques was a very intelligent boy and he was often afraid, but his love for his country was even greater than his fear of death. He was more concerned for the safety of his mother and his little sister than he was for his own safety. He envied his friend Pierre who, although only fourteen, was in active service with the Free French.

    Although only ten years of age, his sister Jacqueline was a very bright child. She sensed the dangerous part her mother played in the drama of war. Frequently she cried herself to sleep on the nights of extreme risk, but before her mother and Jacques, she smiled bravely. Jacqueline was to be taken care of by loyal neighbors should the hand of death suddenly knock at the Bernauds' door.

    While death might beckon at any time, its dark shadow came directly into their home sometime after dusk every Thursday. A little metal capsule contained the "death warrant." Each week they received it from a typical-looking French peasant and concealed it cleverly until it was called for by an agent of the Allied Intelligence Service.

    A few hiding places were considered especially safe for the deadly container. At times it was concealed in the rung of a chair. Sometimes it was dropped into the big iron pot where some of the evening's soup remained to cover it. Another excellent place was inside the hollowed-out end of a candle. The capsule was fitted into it, and the hole carefully filled with melted wax. The candle was then placed in a metal candlestick which stood openly on the table. In order to deceive even the shrewd German Secret Field Police who sometimes headed unwelcome search parties, the candle was partially burned, as its length showed. This trick had so frequently deceived the clever searchers that it had become a popular one.

    Inside the waterproof capsule was a carefully rolled strip of the finest tissue paper. On this special paper, many figures and coded words were written in ink. They were reports compiled by allied secret service agents from information gathered from many sources in the occupied area. Sometimes the container held information from the train-watching posts, giving the number and types of German trains going up to the front or returning from it. Frequently it contained other information of equal importance. Always its possession carried the same deadly danger.

    One particular evening the capsule had been safely given to the Bernaud home and hidden in the candle. The little family was seated around the table after supper when a loud knock shook the door. Madame Bernaud opened it, and three German officers stepped into the room. Without waiting for an invitation, they sat down at the table and started a conversation with the Bernauds in excellent French. Two of the officers, a major and a captain, were members of an infantry regiment, but the third, although he was only a lieutenant, caused the greatest uneasiness. The Bernauds knew that he was an officer of the Intelligence Service stationed in the Dieppe sector.

    "I have instructions from the Kommandantur to settle an officer in this house. He will arrive next Sunday," said the major.
    "Bien, Monsieur le Commandant," said Madame Bernaud evenly.

    The major pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and bent over it in an apparent effort to read by the dim lamplight. Instantly the lieutenant rose and lit the candle, pushing it across the table toward the senior officer. The major carefully studied the written symbols and put the paper back into his pocket. The candle burned threateningly, and the officers chatted in German.

    Madame Bernaud got up and went into the kitchen, returning with another lamp which she placed on the table. Then she snuffed out the candle. "Voila, that is brighter, gentlemen." The light was now good enough for a keen observer to note that a tense look left Jacques' face. He chatted with little Jacqueline who sat on a bench beside him. His relief was of short duration.

    Quickly the lieutenant relit the still smoking wick of the candle. "Even this little extra light is most welcome when such a dark night awaits outside." He smiled cynically at the Bernaudes as he spoke.

    Jacqueline got up and stood beside her mother's chair. The child seemed as conscious of what had happened to the little candle as Jacques. It had suddenly become the most vital thing in the room, and the most terrible. She sensed, as did her mother and Jacques, that the eyes of the officers were fixed on the candle which was actually growing even shorter.

    Jacques rose steadily to his feet and approached the table. "It is growing colder. I will bring in some firewood from the shed." So saying, he reached out and lifted the candlestick from the table.

    He had taken only a few steps toward the door when the lieutenant stepped quickly forward and caught him by the wrist. "You can manage without a light," he said sharply.

    Jacques replaced the candle on the table and went into the little shed which was built onto the house. His mind had grown suddenly numb; seconds seemed hours. If he could only communicate with his friend Pierre of the Underground, perhaps the all-important capsule with its message could be saved. Jacques knew that it was impossible to contact Pierre immediately, and time was running out. He must be in at the finish, he told himself, even though he felt powerless to avoid the fast approaching doom. As the candle flickered out, so would their lives. He groped for an armful of wood and hastened back into the room. He mechanically put some logs into the stove and sat down. Jacqueline's voice almost made him jump.

    "It is late, Monsieur le Commandant, and it is so dark upstairs. Please, may I take a light and go to bed?" asked the child.

    "Certainly, ma petite," the major replied, and his voice was almost tender. "I have a little one just about your age in Dǜssseldorf. Won't you sit beside me, and I will tell you about my Luischen?"

    The ever-shortening candle flickered threateningly. It was now little more than an inch above the candlestick. In a few moments the flame would flutter and go out － with still an inch of candle unburnt. Such a strange thing could attract the attention of at least the Gestapo officer. Surely a telltale hole in the melted wax would expose an end of the metal capsule concealed in the base of the candle. The Bernauds felt that one of the officers, if not all, had guessed the candle's secret. All three awaited the tense ending of the drama. Jacqueline went to the major, and he held her against his knee. The candle flickered audibly, and its feeble light became even dimmer.

    "Won't you please tell me about your little girl another time?" asked Jacqueline. "My head hurts, and I'm very tired."

    "Of course, little one," agreed the major, stroking her silky hair.

    Jacqueline picked up the candlestick with a steady hand. "Bonne nuit, messieurs," she murmured. The feeble, fluttering flame seemed hardly attached to the wick as the child kissed her mother and then walked slowly toward the stairway. Her mother's paleness was visible, and Jacques' hands were clasped too tightly around his knee. Fortunately, the backs of the officers were turned toward the stairs, because, just as Jacqueline reached the top step, the candle went out.

    (1 481 words) TOP

课文一

烛光里的险情

艾伦• A•麦克法伦

    二战期间,法国被纳粹德国占领。自由法兰西地下抵抗运动领导下的法国人民，与纳粹侵略者展开英勇斗争。在这样的环境中，法国儿童的生活如何？他们是否也在尽力帮助祖国？在下面这篇故事里，你会看到两个孩子如何在危急时刻，机智勇敢地保护一个藏有重要情报的小囊。

    焦虑不安，还有死亡的阴影，被请到了迪埃普城格朗德大街阿曼德•伯纳德家不起眼的居所，尽管它们是非常不受欢迎的客人。第二次世界大战期间，这对孪生恐怖兄弟，与爱国主义行动时时相随。在那块被纳粹侵略军占领的法国国土上，尤其如此。每个法国百姓都可能是间谍，于是，迪埃普的德军密切监视着他们的一举一动。盖世太保，就是德国秘密警察，不论白天黑夜，随时都可能突然闯进民宅，没有一家是安全的。

   自从马其诺防线被攻陷， 阿曼德•伯纳德就成了战俘，但他那勇敢能干的妻子在纳粹占领期间为法兰西效力。不仅她自己的生命有危险，她的儿子杰克斯、小女儿杰奎琳也处于同样的危险之中。杰克斯虽说年仅12岁，但已多次帮助过自由法兰西地下抵抗运动。他送过信、担任过警戒，地下抵抗运动者们希望他的年幼，以及他的比实际年龄看来要小的个子，能使他不会引起纳粹的怀疑。如果他被捕，杰克斯和地下抵抗组织者都清楚他将会有怎样的命运。杰克斯是个非常聪明的孩子，他常常感到害怕，但他对祖国的热爱远甚于他对死亡的恐惧。他关心母亲和妹妹的安危，更甚于关心他自己。他很羡慕朋友皮埃尔，虽然才14岁，皮埃尔却已积极为自由法兰西的地下武装办事了。

    他妹妹杰奎琳虽然只有10岁，却是个十分机灵的小姑娘。她意识到，妈妈在这场战争中担任着危险的角色。在那些极其凶险的夜晚，她常常一个人哭着哭着就睡着了。但是在妈妈和杰克斯面前，她总是面带勇敢的微笑。一旦死神突然叩响伯纳德家的大门，杰奎琳将由忠于法国的邻居们抚养。

    死神可能在任何时刻向他们一家招手，每个周四黄昏后的某个时候，死亡的阴影就径直来到他们家中。一个金属小囊装着“死刑执行令”。每周他们都从一个看上去地地道道的法国农夫那儿取来把它精心藏匿起来，直到同盟国情报机关派出的人来取。

   他们认为有几处藏匿这个生死攸关的小囊特别安全。有时它被藏在椅背上某根横档里，有时它被放进盛有晚饭剩汤的大铁锅里。另一个妙不可言的地方 ，是一根蜡烛被掏空的底部，把这个小囊塞进去，洞口用烧化的蜡仔细地封严。然后，把这根蜡烛插在一个金属烛台上，堂而皇之地放在桌上。为了瞒过突然带人来搜查的德国战地秘密警察狡诈的目光，那根蜡烛还往往烧去一截。这个点子一再骗过那些刁钻的搜查兵，成了他们最常用的方法。

    在那防水的小囊里，藏有一张细心卷起的上等薄纸，这张特殊的纸片上，用墨水写着各种各样的数字和密码字符。这些都是同盟国谍报机关特工根据敌占区多处收集的情报写成的报告。有时， 小囊中藏着铁路监视哨搜集的情报，上面记录着来往于前线与后方的德国军用列车的数量、车型。多数时候，里面藏有其他同样重要的情报。拥有这个小囊，冒有同样致命的危险。

    有天晚上，这个小囊被安全地送到了伯纳德家，藏在那根蜡烛里。晚饭后，人数不多的这一家人正围桌而坐。这时，有人敲门，门板被敲得直晃。伯纳德夫人打开门，3个德国军官走进来。不等主人招呼，他们就在桌边坐下，用流畅的法语和伯纳德一家攀谈起来。其中的两个军官，一个少校和一个上尉是步兵团成员，但是第三个虽说只是个中尉，却最令人不安。伯纳德一家都知道，他是驻扎在迪埃普一带德军情报机关的军官。

    “我接到司令官的指令，安排一个军官住在这儿，他下星期天就到，”少校说。

    “好吧，长官，”伯纳德夫人不动声色地说。

    少校从口袋里掏出一张纸，俯下身，在昏暗的灯光下费劲地看起来。中尉立刻站起来，点燃蜡烛，把它推向桌子另一端的上级军官。少校仔细研究完纸上写的符号后，把它放回口袋。蜡烛在燃烧，象是在预示着灾祸的来临。军官们在用德语聊天。

    伯纳德夫人站起身，走进厨房，拿来另一盏灯放在桌上。然后，她把蜡烛吹灭，“瞧，这盏更亮一点，先生们。”灯光足以使目光敏锐的人注意到，杰克斯脸上紧张的神色消失了。他同坐在身旁板凳上的杰奎琳说着话。他没能长时间的放松。

    那个中尉随即又点燃了那根烛芯还在冒烟的蜡烛，“在这么黑的夜里，即使增添这么一点点光亮，也是大受欢迎的。”说话时他对伯纳德一家人心怀恶意地笑了笑。

    杰奎琳起身在她妈妈的椅子边站定。看来她和杰克斯一样清楚，那截短蜡烛出现了什么问题。这截蜡烛忽然成了屋里最重要、最可怕的东西。和母亲和杰克斯一样，杰奎琳意识到那些军官的眼睛都紧紧地盯着那截越烧越短的蜡烛。

    杰克斯稳身站起来，走到桌边，“天越来越冷了，我到棚里去拿点柴来。”说着，他伸手拿起了桌上的蜡烛。

    他拿着蜡烛，刚向屋门走出几步，中尉就抢上前来，抓住他的手腕，“没灯也能拿柴，”他厉声说。

    杰克斯把蜡烛放回桌上，走进那间紧贴房子搭起的柴棚。他的大脑突然麻木，几秒钟就象几个小时一样漫长。如果他能和朋友，就是地下组织里的皮埃尔，联系上，也许那个极其重要的藏有秘件的 小囊就能得救。杰克斯知道，他是不可能立即与皮埃尔联系上的，而且，此刻所剩的时间已不多。事情了结的时候他一定在场，他告诉自己，尽管他感到无力避免这场正在飞来的灾祸。蜡烛忽闪着熄灭时，他们一家的生命火花也将随之熄灭。他摸索着抱了一捧柴，匆匆回到屋里。他机械地将几段木柴塞进火炉，然后坐下来。杰奎琳的声音几乎使他跳起来。

    “天晚了，长官，楼上那么黑。您能允许我拿盏灯上楼睡觉吗？”孩子问。

    “当然，我的小乖乖，”少校回答道，声音非常轻柔，“在杜塞多夫，我也有个孩子，年纪和你差不多。你愿不愿意坐到我身边来，我给你讲讲我的露依申？”

   蜡烛越烧越短，烛光摇曳不定，眼看灾难就要降临。现在，蜡烛只剩一英寸多一点点了。再过一小会儿，蜡烛的火焰就会忽明忽暗地跳动，最后完全熄灭——中间仍有一英寸未燃尽。这种奇怪的现象至少会引起那个盖世太保军官的注意。熔化的蜡烛油中间那个一览无疑的空洞无疑会露出藏匿在蜡烛根部的金属囊的一端。伯纳德一家感到某个军官——即使不是所有的军官——已经猜到了这根蜡烛的秘密。一家3口都在等待着这一幕的紧张结局。杰奎琳走到少校跟前，他将她抱在膝上。烛火啪啦啦地跳动着，原本微弱的烛光更加暗淡了。

    “下回再给我讲您小女儿的事，好吗？”杰奎琳问道。“我头疼，真的很累了。”

    “当然可以，孩子，”少校抚摸着她那丝一般柔顺的头发，答应了。

    杰奎琳一只手稳稳地拿起烛台，“先生们，晚安，”她喃喃地说。当她吻了妈妈，慢步走向楼梯时，那跳闪的微弱烛焰看上去已跟烛芯脱离了。她妈妈的脸变得煞白，杰克斯的双手过紧地抓着膝盖。所幸此刻军官们正背对楼梯，因为就在杰奎琳走上楼梯最上面一级的那一瞬间，蜡烛灭了。

    返回

Text 2

A Physicist's Life in a Turbulent World

by Abraham Pais

    That morning Johan van de Kieft came to see Lion and me. He was an important figure in the resistance movement, in contact with London. The purpose of his visit was to discuss a draft bill under consideration by the Dutch government-in-exile, which dealt with the fate of Jewish children who had been hidden during the war but whose parents had been deported and would probably not return. The issue was: Who should be responsible for them after the war? Van de Kieft wished to discuss the issue with us because we had been assigned to represent the Zionist youth movement with the resistance.

    After Van de Kieft had left, Lion and I talked things over and decided that a memorandum should be prepared for use by the resistance. Lion said he would write it and started at once, while I went to my own room. Shortly afterward lunch was ready. As we sat down to our frugal meal, Lion put his unfinished writing in his jacket pocket － instead of storing it in the cache we had prepared for sensitive material.

    After lunch Bert Broer came to see me. That day we discussed a paper recently published by the great German physicist Werner Heisenberg on the theory of superconductivity. When the bell rang, I did not pay attention. Only the ladies were permitted to open the door. Moments later the door to my room opened. There stood a tall man in SS uniform, the skull and bones symbol on his cap, a drawn revolver in his hand.

    My first reaction was a quick look at the window. Could I jump out? Impossible.

    Not saying a word, the SS man moved his revolver to indicate that Bert and I should go into the hallway. The women and Lion were herded in there as well, rounded up by another German. My strongest recollection of the next moment is the total collapse of Lion. He was visibly in total panic, had lost his calm, and moved oddly, causing one of the Germans to hit him in the face, sending his glasses flying. I heard Jeanne pleading with one of the men, offering diamonds to let us go, an offer that enraged them. Next we were led down the stairs. Two cars were waiting. We three men were shoved in one, the women in the other. As we drove off, I experienced fears more intense than I have ever felt in my life. It was a degree of fear that caused physical pain. My body ached all over.

    As I heard later, the women were driven to the women's prison. We were taken to Gestapo headquarters, where the three of us were shoved into separate rooms. As I was waiting for what was to happen next, I remembered some advice given to me by resistance members on how to behave in such situations. First, and most important, try not to show any fear. Behave politely. Ask for an interpreter who could translate spoken German into Dutch, to gain time for replies.

    A man came in. I jumped to attention. As he paced slowly back and forth in the room, he began to interrogate me, speaking in conversational tones, never raising his voice. He first asked me if I was a Jew. I said no, I was not. Whereupon he ordered me to let down my pants. In Holland in those days circumcision was a procedure applied to Jews only. So I said, "All right, I am a Jew. But I am also a physicist, and all I did in that apartment was to pursue my research, as you can verify from the papers and books in my room." The questioning went on, the man keeping up his slow pacing. At one point, when he came quite close to where I was standing, he slapped me hard in the face, then continued his movements as if nothing had happened. It was a shattering moment. Its purpose was obvious: not so much to cause physical pain as to make me lose my mental balance. Even though the man had succeeded in doing so, it did not interrupt the interrogation, with the questions now turning to my possible dealings with the resistance. I denied any such involvement.

    The man left. I waited again. After a while I was ordered out of the room, whereupon I met Bert and Lion again, the latter looking ashen. Once again we were shoved into a car which brought us to a building that before the war used to be the city's House of Detentions but had become a Gestapo prison. We three were pushed into a cell and the door was banged shut and locked. I had arrived at my next war residence, cell IB4.

    I fell into an exhausted sleep that night, to be awakened by banging on the cell door, which then was opened. Like the others, I continued to lie on my bed, awaiting developments. Moments later a prison guard came in and started yelling at us. Didn't we know that we had to get up quickly when the cell was opened, quickly get dressed, place the toilet things outside the door, then stand at attention to await cell inspection? No, we didn't know, but of course we learned quickly.

    The days then took on a regular routine. Meals were miserably small. In the late mornings we were let out of our cell for airing and walked around for a short while with other prisoners in a small yard surrounded by high walls. It was beautiful spring weather. We could see a triangular piece of pure blue sky through our small barred window.

    Days in prison were mostly quiet, but nights were bad. We would hear heavy metal doors clanging, shouts, shrieks. We knew that some poor bastard was being taken away, but had only grim forebodings as to where.

    The monotony of the days was broken by periodic interrogations that took place inside the prison building. Sometimes Lion, sometimes I, was taken out of our cell. I was brought to a small room and remember one setting in particular. As I came in I saw a man sitting behind a desk, leaning back, relaxed, with hands clasped behind his neck. The room was otherwise bare, as was the desktop, except for a revolver lying in the middle. I stood in front of his desk, at attention as always. The man began to speak. "You will now tell me all you know about the resistance," he said calmly, "and you will speak the truth. If you do, it will help your situation considerably； if you don't, I shall shoot you right here in this room." I remember how the thought came to me: he is the animal in this circus, you are the tamer, look at him like the animal trainer stares steadily at his beast. I replied to his question as I had done before: "I had nothing to do with the resistance. It is true that I am a Jew. But I am just a young scientist absorbed in my work. I am just a weltfremd， unworldly, young man."

    Another day it was Lion's turn. When he came back that time, he did not walk but rather stumbled into our cell, quite pale and deeply shaken. "What happened?" I asked. His reply: "I've been condemned to death."

    My immediate very brief reaction was and still is astounding to me. It was as if, inside my head, a blinding light shone and a voice spoke: I SHALL LIVE. I had not been condemned.

    Lion had fallen on his cot. I picked him up and cradled him in my arms, as one does a young child. I spoke calming words to him; I do not recall what I said. He quieted down somewhat but remained deeply withdrawn and hard to reach those next few days, staring out of our little window, unseeing.
    Some days later － we were now well into April － I found upon returning to the cell that Lion was gone. I sat down on my cot, in despair. What else could I expect but the worst?

    In order to explain what happened to me next, I must relate what Tineke had been up to during this time. Right after my friends and I had been captured, Tineke had gone to the house on the Hobbemakade where we had been living. As she rang the bell, the door was opened by a Gestapo agent. She was arrested on the spot, then interrogated at length. They had found men's socks and women's underwear in the same room of the house, concluding that Lion had been sleeping with Jeanne, whose story that she was Aryan had meanwhile been believed by the Gestapo. So the tragic situation developed that the Germans considered Lion, properly married to a Jewish woman, to be guilty of Rassenschande, racial disgrace.

    After hours of interrogation, Tineke was let go with the warning that she would be watched, that she was probably Jewish herself, or hid Jews, or had a Jewish husband. Kramers, advised by Tineke of my capture, had meanwhile written in German to Heisenberg. Probably stressing that I was a talented young physicist, or words to that effect. Kramers had sent a copy of the letter to Tineke.
    It was Tineke who got me out. She had gotten hold of the name and address of a high Nazi official in Amsterdam and decided to call on him. She was indeed received in his office. On his desk stood a photo of Gring, with the dedication Fǘrmeinen Freund "to my friend". Tineke showed him her copy of Kramers's letter to Heisenberg and asked for his help. After reading the letter the man did not say a word to Tineke, but picked up the phone to call the prison. "Hast du einen Jude Pais dort?" ("Do you have a Jew, Pais, there?") "Yes, they did.""Lass ihn gehen" ("Let him go").
    So it came about that I gained my freedom because of physics, and because of the devotion of Kramers and, above all else, of Tineke. Kramers later told me he did receive a reply. Heisenberg understood, he wrote, was very sorry, but could not do anything.

    On one of the last days in April I was taken out of my cell and brought to the office of the prison commandant. He told me I was free but would at once be picked up and shot if I committed any act against Germany. I stepped out of his office and was brought to a small window near the exit, behind which sat a scribe who I knew must be a prisoner. He had to register my departure. I whispered to him, "He was shot several days ago." Then the small outer gate was opened. I stepped out on the street.

    (1 835 words)  TOP

课文二

一个物理学家在动荡岁月里的生活

亚伯拉罕•佩斯

    那天早上，约翰•范•德•基夫特来看我和莱昂。他是抵抗运动的重要人物，与伦敦保持着联系。他此行的目的，是与我们讨论荷兰流亡政府正在酝酿的法律草案。这项法律是有关那些战争期间四处藏身的犹太孩子们的命运，他们的父母已被驱逐出境，可能再也回不了家园。问题是：战后谁应该负责照料这些孩子？范•德•基夫特希望与我们讨论这个问题，因为我们已被委派代表抵抗运动中的犹太复国主义青年运动组织。

    范•基夫特离开后，我和莱昂讨论了有关问题，决定起草一份备忘录，供抵抗运动使用。 莱昂说由他来写，于是他立刻动笔，我则回到了自己的房间。不久，午餐准备好了。我们坐下吃简单的午餐，莱昂将他那份尚未完成的稿件放进上衣口袋——没有藏入我们为保存秘密材料准备的秘室。

    午饭后，伯特•勃罗尔来找我。那天，我们讨论了伟大的德国物理学家沃纳•海森堡新近发表的有关超导理论的论文。门铃响的时候，我并没在意。只有女士才获准开门。几分钟后，通向我房间的门打开了。门口站着一个身穿纳粹党卫军制服的大个子，他的帽子上缀着骷髅帽徽，手里握着一枝上了膛的左轮枪。

    我的第一个反应就是向窗户扫了一眼。我能跳出去吗？不可能。

    那个纳粹党卫军一言不发，用左轮枪比划着，示意我和伯特走进过道。妇女们和莱昂也已被另一个德国人赶到那儿。接下来我记忆最深的一幕，就是莱昂完全垮了。显然，他已完全吓慌了，失去了镇静，而且行动怪异，一个德国人见状朝他脸上狠狠地打了一拳，把他的眼镜打飞。我听见让娜在恳求其中一个德国人，要是放我们走她愿意给他们钻石，这个提议激怒了他们。接着，我们被带下楼梯，两辆车正等在那儿。我们3个男的被推进一辆，女士们被推进另一辆。车开时，我感到一种从未有过的极度恐惧。这种恐惧到了引起肉体痛苦的程度。我浑身疼痛。

     后来我听说，车子把女士们送到女子监狱。我们被带到了盖世太保总部，我们三人被推进不同的牢房。等待那即将发生的一切时，我记起抵抗运动的成员们给我的在此种情形下如何行事的忠告。首先，也是非常重要的，竭力不表现出任何恐惧。举止要彬彬有礼。要求找一个能将德语译成荷兰语的翻译，拖延作出答复的时间。

    一个德国人进来了。我跳起来，立正站好。他慢悠悠地在屋里踱来踱去，开始用交谈的语气审问我，始终没有提高嗓门。起先，他问我是不是犹太人。我说不是，我不是。于是他命令我脱下裤子。那时候，在荷兰只有犹太人使用包皮环切术。因此，我说：“得了，我是个犹太人，但我也是个物理学家。在那套房间里，我做的不过是我的研究工作，你可以从我房里的书籍和文件得到证实。”审问在继续，那个德国人继续慢悠悠地踱着步。有一次在踱到离我很近时，他狠狠地劈脸打了我一个巴掌，然后又继续踱步，好象什么也没发生过。这段时间真叫人惶惑不安。德国人这样做的目的很明显，他并不想造成我肉体上的疼痛，而是想使我心态失衡。尽管他已达到这个目的，并未打断审讯， 提的问题现在转到我可能和抵抗运动有关系。我矢口否认与之有任何瓜葛。

    这个人走了。我继续等待。过了一阵子，我被叫到屋外，又遇见了伯特和莱昂，莱昂已是面如土色。我们再次被推进一辆汽车，我们 被送到一座建筑前，这儿战前是该市的拘留所，但是现已成为盖世太保监狱。我们三人被推进一间牢房，牢门旋即砰地一声被关上了，上了锁。此前，我进过另一个战时住所：IB4牢房。

    那天夜里，我疲惫不堪，睡得很沉，砰砰的敲门声把我惊醒，当时门是开着的。和其他人一样，我继续躺在床上，静观事态发展。过了片刻，一个看守闯进来，开始冲着我们大吼：难道我们不知道，牢门一开，就得赶快起床，赶紧穿好衣服，将便桶放到门外，随后立正等候巡视监房？不，我们不知道，不过，我们当然很快就学会了。

    然后日子按部就班地周而复始。一日三餐少得可怜。每天近晌午时允许我们出牢房去放风，我们和其他囚犯可以在高墙环绕的小院里一起转一会。当时正是阳光明媚的春天。透过牢房装着铁栏的小窗，我们能看到一小块三角形湛蓝的天。

    狱中的白天大都是平静的，但夜晚却不太平。我们会听到沉重的铁门开关时发出的乒乓声和喊叫声、尖叫声。我们知道这是某个可怜虫被带走了，但是对他的去处只有一种不详的预感。

    白天的单调乏味间或被狱中的审讯打破。有时是莱昂被提出牢房，有时是我。我被带到一间小屋，现在我尤其记得有一次提审的情景。当我走进去时，只见一个德国人坐在写字台后，靠着椅背，双手合拢放在脑后，看上去非常悠闲轻松。屋子里空空的，写字台上也一样，只有一枝左轮枪放在桌子中央。我照例立正站在他桌前。“现在你要把你所知道的有关抵抗运动的情况都告诉我。”他平心静气地说，“而且你要说实话。如果你说实话，这对你的案子大有好处。不说实话，我马上在这儿毙了你。”记得当时我心里产生这样一个念头：他是这场马戏表演中的野兽，你是驯兽师，要象驯兽师双眼直盯着畜生那样盯着他。和往常一样，我回答说：“我和抵抗运动没有任何关系。不错，我是个犹太人，但我只是个埋头工作的年轻科学家。我只是个与世无争的年轻人。”

    又有一天，轮到莱昂受审。那一次他回来时，不是走着回来，而是跌跌撞撞地回到牢房，脸色惨白，惶恐不安。“出了什么事？”我问。他回答说：“我被判死刑了。”

    我当时的瞬间反应使我震惊，即使现在，我仍感到惊骇。当时我的头脑中象有一道令人目眩的电光一闪而过，一个声音在说：“我会活下去。我还没有被判死刑。”

    莱昂一头栽倒在床上。我把他扶起来，象抱孩子似的把他搂在怀中。我对他说些宽慰的话。现在我记不起当时说了些什么。他平静了一点，但在以后的几天里，他一直非常孤僻，难以接近，双眼总是茫然地，直勾勾地盯着窗外。
  

    几天后——那时我们早已进了四月——一回到牢房就发现莱昂不在了。我坐在床上，绝望了。除了最坏的结局，我还能有什么期盼呢？

    为说明我此后的遭遇，我必须讲述在那段时间里迪娜卡的活动。我和朋友们刚刚被捕，迪娜卡就来到赫伯马卡德我们原先的住处。她按门铃时，门被一个盖世太保打开了。她被当场逮捕，随即受到详细的审问。他们曾在这所房子的同一个房间里发现了男人的袜子和女人的内衣，由此断定莱昂跟让娜睡过觉。同时，盖世太保也相信了让娜编造的她是个雅利安白人的说法。因此，事情就朝悲剧发展下去，德国人认为，已堂堂正正与犹太女人结婚的莱昂有罪，玷污了雅利安种族的纯洁。

    数小时审讯过后，迪娜卡就获释了，并警告说，她将受到监视，而她本人可能是个犹太人，或者藏匿过犹太人，或者有个犹太丈夫。克雷默斯听从了迪娜卡就我被捕一事提出的建议，同时给海森堡写了封德文信。也许信中强调我是个有天赋的年轻科学家或类似的话。克雷默斯曾寄给迪娜卡一份信的抄件。

    是迪娜卡营救我出狱的。她搞到了在阿姆斯特丹的纳粹高官的名字和住址，并决定去找他。果真，她在他的办公室受到接见。他的办公桌上立着一张戈林的相片，相片上还有题词“献给我的朋友”。迪娜卡向他出示了克雷莫斯写给海森堡的书信抄件，向他求助。读完信后，他对迪娜卡一言不发，但拿起电话直拨监狱。“你那儿有个犹太人叫佩斯吗？” “有。”“放他走。”

    结果，由于物理学，也由于克雷默斯的忠诚，更是由于迪娜卡的努力，我获得了自由。事后，克雷默斯告诉我，他确实收到了海森堡的回信，他表示理解，他写道，他非常遗憾，但他对此事无能为力。

    四月下旬的一天，我被从牢里提到典狱长办公室。他告诉我，我自由了，但如果有任何反对德国的行动，就会立刻被抓起来枪毙。我走出他的办公室，被带到监狱出口处的一个小窗户边。窗后坐着一个抄写员，我知道他肯定是个囚徒。他要对我的出狱做记录。我轻声对他说，“几天前他被枪毙了。”这时通向监狱外面的小门打开了。我走出去，来到大街上。

     返回