在第六大道的一个拐角，电灯闪烁，巧妙地摆放着的商品透过玻璃窗显得格外引人注目。索皮抓起一块鹅卵石，将其砸向了玻璃。人们从拐角跑来，警察走在最前面。索皮站在那里，双手插在口袋里，面对着金色的警徽微笑。

“干那事的人在哪儿？”警官兴奋地问道。

“你就不能想象我可能和这事有关系吗？”索皮带着讽刺的口吻说道，但语气中却是友善的，仿佛是在迎接好运。

警官的脑海中拒绝将索皮视为线索。砸窗户的人不会停下来和法律的执行者交涉。他们会立刻逃离。警官看到街对面有一个人正朝着车站奔去，便抽出警棍加入了追捕。索皮心中愤懑，继续游荡，但两次都未能如愿。

街对面有一家不算华丽的餐馆。它适合大胃口与小钱袋的顾客。餐具和气氛厚重；汤和餐巾则薄弱。在这个地方，索皮带着他的破鞋和显眼的裤子毫无阻碍地进去了。他坐下后点了牛排、煎饼、甜甜圈和派。然后对服务员坦白自己甚至连一枚硬币都没有。

“现在，快去叫警察，”索皮说，“别让绅士久等。”

“没警察给你叫，”服务员用像黄油蛋糕般的声音回答，眼神却像曼哈顿鸡尾酒里的樱桃。“嘿，看！”

两个服务员迅速把索皮扔到坚硬的地面上，他像木匠的卷尺一样，一节节地爬起来，拍打着衣服上的灰尘。被逮捕似乎只是一场美好的梦。监狱的岛屿似乎远得很。一个站在药店门口的警察笑了笑，朝街道另一头走去。

索皮走了五个街区，这时他才鼓起勇气再试一次。这次机会带来了他自以为是的“轻松搞定”。一位看起来温文尔雅的年轻女子正站在一扇橱窗前，兴致勃勃地看着里面陈列的剃须杯和墨水瓶，而离窗口两码远处，一个神情严肃的警察靠在一个水龙头上。

索皮打算假装成那个令人厌恶的“调情者”。他那优雅精致的外表

At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly dis­ played wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous. Soapy took a cobblestone and dashed it through the glass. People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.

'Where'sthe man that done that?' inquired the officer excitedly.

'Don't you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?' said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.

The policeman's mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue. Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law's minions. They take to their heels. The policeman saw a man half­ way down the block running to catch a car. With drawn club he joined in the pursuit. Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.

On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions. It catered to large appetites and modest purses. Its crockery and atmosphere were thick; its soup and napery thin. Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge. At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap­ jacks, doughnuts and pie. And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.

'Now, get busy and call a cop,' said Soapy. 'And don't keep a gentleman waiting.'

'No cop for youse,' said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail. 'Hey, Con!'

Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy. He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter's rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed but a rosy dream. The Island seemed very far away. A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.

Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again. This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a 'cinch.' A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.

It was Soapy's design to assume the role of the despicable and execrated 'masher.' The refined and elegant appearance of his

受害者和那位尽职尽责的警察的邻近让索皮相信，他很快就能感受到那个愉快的官方抓握在他的手臂上，从而确保他在这个小小、紧凑的小岛上的冬季度假。

索皮整理了一下女士传教士的现成领带，把缩进的袖口拖了出来，歪着帽子走向年轻女子。他朝她做了个眼神，被突如其来的咳嗽和“呃呃”声打断，微笑、作揖，厚颜无耻地进行着“调情者”的无耻游戏。索皮的余光注意到警察正盯着他看。年轻女子退后几步，又将注意力投向剃须杯。索皮大胆地走到她身边，举起帽子说道：“啊，贝迪莉亚！你不想来我的院子玩吗？”

警察依旧在观察。被迫害的年轻女子只需伸出一个手指，索皮便会几乎立刻朝着他的孤岛安乐窝出发。他已经想象到自己能感受到警局的温暖。年轻女子面对他，伸出一只手，抓住了索皮的外套袖子。“当然可以，迈克，”她高兴地说，“如果你请我喝一桶泡沫。我早该跟你说话，但警察在看。”

随着年轻女子像常春藤般依附于他的橡树，索皮忧郁地走过警察。他似乎注定要自由。到了下一个拐角，他甩掉了同伴，跑开了。他停在一个晚上灯光最亮的地方，在那里人们的心、誓言和歌词轻松自在。穿着毛皮的大衣的女人和披着大衣的男人在寒冷的空气中欢快地走动。突然，一种恐惧袭上心头，让索皮感到某种可怕的魔法使他免于逮捕。这个念头让他有些惊慌，当他看到另一个警察在一家华丽剧院前悠闲地倚靠着时，他抓住了“行为不端”的借口。

在人行道上，索皮开始用他嘶哑的声音大喊醉汉般的胡言乱语。他跳舞、嚎叫、发狂，并以其他方式打扰周围的宁静。

警察转动着警棍，背对索皮，对一名路人说道：“这是那些耶鲁大学的学生在庆祝他们给哈特福德学院的零分。吵闹，但没什么坏处。我们接到的指示是让他们自便。”失落的索皮停止了徒劳的喧闹。难道就没有一个警察会抓住他？在他的幻想中，那个孤岛似乎是一片无法企及的田园诗。他扣紧单薄的外套以抵御刺骨的寒风。

在一家雪茄店里，他看到一个穿着讲究的男子正在灯光下点燃雪茄。他进门时把丝绸雨伞放在了门旁。索皮走进去，拿到了雨伞，慢悠悠地走了出去。雪茄店里的那位男士急匆匆地跟了上来。“我的伞，”他严肃地说。

“哦，是吗？”索皮冷嘲热讽，给小偷行为加了侮辱。“那么，为什么不叫警察呢？这是我的。你的伞！为什么不叫警察？那儿就有一个在拐角上。”

伞的主人减慢了脚步。索皮也跟着减速，隐隐觉得运气又一次不妙。警察好奇地看着他们二人。

victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters on the right little, tight little isle.

Soapy straightened the lady missionary's ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young woman. He made eyes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and 'hems,' smiled, smirked and went brazenly through the impudent and contemptible litany of the 'masher.' With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly. The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs. Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said:

'Ah there, Bedelia! Don't you want to come and play in my yard?'

The policeman was still looking. The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven. Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house. The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy's coat-sleeve.

'Sure, Mike,' she said joyfully, 'if you'll blow me to a pail of suds. I'd have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.'

With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman, overcome with gloom. He seemed doomed to liberty。

At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran. He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows and librettos. Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air. A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest. The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of 'disorderly conduct.'

On the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice. He danced, howled, raved and otherwise disturbed the welkin.

The policeman twirled his club, turned his back to Soapy and remarked to a citizen:

' 'Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin' the goose egg they give to the Hartford College. Noisy; but no harm. W e've instructions to lave them be.

Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket. Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia. He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.

In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light. His silk umbrella he had set by the door on enter­ ing. Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly. The man at the cigar light followed hastily.

'My umbrella,' he said sternly.

'Oh, is it?' sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny. 'Well, why don't you call a policeman? I took it. Your umbrella! Why don't you call a cop? There stands one at the corner.'

The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would again run against him. The policeman looked at the two curiously.

“当然，”伞的主人说，“那是——好吧，你知道这些错误是怎么发生的——我——如果这是你的伞，我希望你能原谅我——我今天早上在一家餐厅捡到它——如果你认得出它是你的，呃——我希望你——”

“当然是我的，”索皮恶狠狠地说道。

前伞主人的后退了。警察赶紧去帮助一位身穿歌剧斗篷的高个金发女郎过街，在两条街外即将驶来的一辆电车前。

索皮朝东走过一条因改建而受损的街道。他愤怒地将雨伞扔进一个挖掘现场。他对那些戴着头盔、举着棍棒的人们咕哝不已。因为他想落入他们的手中，他们似乎把他视为一个不会犯错的国王。

最终，索皮来到了一条东边的大街，这里的光彩和喧嚣显得微弱。他朝着麦迪逊广场的方向走去，因为归属感即便在家是长椅时也依旧存在。

但在一个异常安静的拐角，索皮停了下来。这里有一座古老的教堂，古朴而曲折、带有尖顶。透过一扇紫色染色的窗户，柔和的灯光闪烁，毫无疑问，风琴师正在键盘上徘徊，确保自己掌握即将来临的安息日赞美诗。甜美的音乐飘荡到了索皮的耳中，使他陶醉得靠在铁栅栏上动弹不得。

月亮高悬，光辉灿烂；车辆和行人稀少；麻雀在屋檐下懒懒地叽叽喳喳——片刻之间，这场景几乎像是一个乡村教堂的墓地。而风琴师所演奏的赞美诗将索皮牢牢粘在铁栅栏上，因为他曾在生命中那些充满母爱、玫瑰、雄心、朋友、纯洁思想和领带的日子里深知这首曲子。

索皮那种敏感的心理状态与古老教堂周围的氛围结合在一起，瞬间产生了奇妙的变化。他以迅速的恐惧看着自己跌入的深渊，那些堕落的日子、不值得的欲望、死去的希望、破坏的能力和卑劣的动机构成了他的存在。

同时，他的心灵也对这种新奇的情绪产生了强烈的回应。一种瞬间涌现出的强烈冲动促使他与绝望的命运抗争。他要把自己从泥潭中拉出来；他要重新做一个人；他会征服占据了他的邪恶。还有时间；他还比较年轻；他要复兴自己曾经渴望的雄心，并无畏地追求它们。这些庄严而甜美的风琴音符在他心中引发了一场革命。明天他会走进繁华的市区寻找工作。以前，一位毛皮进口商曾给过他一个司机的职位。他明天就去找他，争取这个职位。他将在这个世界上成为某个人。他将——

索皮感受到一只手搭在了他的手臂上。他迅速回头，看到了一个警察宽阔的面孔。

“你在这里干嘛？”警官问道。

“没什么，”索皮回答。

“那就跟我走吧，”警察说。

“明天早上的治安法庭，三个月在岛上，”法官说道。

'Of course,' said the umbrella man - 'that is - well, you know how these mistakes occur - I - if it's your umbrella I hope you'll excuse me - I picked it up this morning in a restaurant - If you recognize it as yours, why - I hope you'll - '
'Of course it's mine,' said Soapy viciously.

The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.

Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improve­ ments. He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation. He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong

At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint. He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.

But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill. Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled. Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mas­ tery of the coming Sabbath anthem. For there drifted out to Soapy's ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence. The moon was above, lustrous and serene; vehicles and pedes­ trians were few; sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves - for a little while the scene might have been a country churchyard. Andthe anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars. The conjunction of Soapy's receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul. He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties and base motives that made up his existence. And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood. An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. He would pull himself out of the mire; he would make a man of himself again; he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him. There was time; he was comparatively young yet; he would resurrect his old eager ambi­ tions and pursue them without faltering. Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him. To-morrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work. A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver. He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position. He would be somebody in the world. He would - Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm. He looked quickly around into the broad face of a policeman. 'What are you doin' here?' asked the officer. 'Nothin',' said Soapy. 'Then come along,' said the policeman. 'Three months on the Island,' said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.