ARNOLD AND TALLEYRAND
1.THERE was a day when Talleyrand arrived in Havre direct from Paris.It was the darkest hour of the French Revolution.Pursued by the bloodhounds of the Reign of Terror，stripped of every wreck of property or power，Talleyrand secured a passage to America，in a ship about to sail.He was a beggar and a wanderer to a strange land，to earn his bread by daily labor.
2.“Is there an American staying at your house？”he asked the landlord of Talleyran the hotel.“I am bound to cross the water，and would like a letter to a person of influence in the New World.”The landlord hesitated a moment，then replied，“There is a gentleman up-stairs，either from America or Britain，but whether an American or an Englishman，I can not tell.”He pointed the way，and Talleyrand，who，in his life，was Bishop，Prince，and Prime Minister，ascended the stairs.A miserable suppliant，he stood before the stranger‘s door，knocked，and entered.
3.In the far corner of the dimly lighted room，sat a man of some fifty years：his arms folded，and his head bowed on his breast.From a window directly opposite，a flood of light poured over his forehead.His eyes looked from beneath the downcast brows，and gazed on Talleyrand’s face with a peculiar and searching expression.His facewas striking in outline；the mouth and chin indicative of an iron will.His form，vigorous，even with the snows of fifty，was clad in a dark，but rich and distinguished costume.
4.Talleyrand advanced，stated that he was a fugitive，and，under the impression that the gentleman before him was an American，he solicited his kind and feeling offices.He poured forth his history in eloquent French and broken English：“I am a wanderer and an exile.I am forced to fly to the New World，without a friend or home.You are an American！Give me，then，I beseech you，a letter of yours，so that I may be able to earn my bread.I am willing to toil in any manner；the scenes of Paris have seized me with such horror，that a life of labor would be a paradise to a career of luxury in France.Will you give me a letter to one of your friends？A gentleman like yourself has doubtless many friends.”
5.The strange gentleman rose.With a look that Talleyrand never forgot，he retreated toward the door of the next chamber；his eyes looking still from beneath his darkened brow.He spoke as he retreated backward：his voice was full of meaning.“I am the only man born in the New World who can raise his hand to God and say，I have not a friend，not one，in all America！”Talleyrand never forgot the overwhelming sadness of the look which accompanied these words.
6.“Who are you？”he cried，as the strange man retreated to the next room：“your name？”“My name，”he replied，with a smile that had more mockery than joy in its convulsive expression，“my name is Benedict Arnold！”He was gone.Talleyrand sank into his chair，gasping the words，“ARNOLD THE TRAITOR！”
7.Thus Arnold wandered over the earth，another Cain，with thewanderer‘s mark upon his brow.Even in that secluded room in that inn at Havre，his crimes found him out，and forced him to tell his name：that name the synonym of infamy.The last twenty years of his life are covered with a cloud，from whose darkness but a few gleams of light flash out upon the page of history.
8.The manner of his death is not exactly known；but we can not doubt that he died utterly friendless；that remorse pursued him to the grave，whispering John Andre ！in his car；and that the memory of his course of glory gnawed like a canker at his heart，murmuring forever，“True to your country，what might you have been，Oh！Arnold，the Traitor！”
（FROM WOODWORTH ）
中文阅读
1.塔列朗①从巴黎来到勒阿弗尔的那一天是法国革命最黑暗的时刻。他受到恐怖地区侦探猎犬的追击，所有的财产与权力都被夺走。塔列朗找到了一条去往美国的安全通道，那是一条即将扬帆启航的船。对于这片陌生的土地来说，他是一个乞丐和流浪者，每天以做苦工来挣得面包。
2.“有美国人住在你店里吗？”他问当地一家旅馆的店主。“我下定决心要漂洋过海，要写信给一个在新大陆有影响力的人。”店主犹豫了片刻回答说：“楼上有一位绅士，来自美国或是英国，但是他到底是美国人还是英国人我区分不出来。”他给他指了路，就这样，塔列朗，生活中的主教、贵族和总理，走上楼来。他站在这个陌生人的门口，苦苦地哀求，敲门走了进去。
3.闪烁着昏暗灯光的屋子远处的一个角落里，坐着一个年龄大约五十岁的人，他双臂交叉，头垂在胸前。从正对面的窗户透过来一注灯光照在他的前额上。他倒八字的眉毛下面一双眼睛凝视着塔列朗的脸，面部表情独特，充满着探询的意味。他的面部轮廓非常清晰，嘴唇和下巴显示出一种刚毅。虽然已年过半百，头发花白，但他看上去精力充沛，身上穿着高贵的深色服装，显得气宇不凡。
4.塔列朗走上前来，自我介绍说他是个逃亡者，面前的这位绅士给他的印象是个美国人，于是他乞求他发善心，同情他这样一位逃亡者。他用流利的法文和结结巴巴的英文把自己的历史和盘托出：“我是个流浪者，也是个被放逐者。我被迫逃亡到这个新大陆，没有朋友，没有家。你是美国人吧！那么，我乞求你，①即夏尔·莫里斯·德塔列朗（1754-1838），法国资产阶级革命时期著名外交家--编者注。
给我写一封信，这样，我或许就可以谋生了。什么苦工我都愿意做。法国的场景让我毛骨悚然，在法国，劳工的生活是奢侈职业的天堂。你可以为我给你的朋友写一封信吗？像你这样的绅士肯定有许多朋友。”
5.陌生的绅士站起身来，塔列朗永远也不会忘记他脸上的表情，他退到下一个房间的门口，浓重的眉毛下眼睛仍然低垂着。他边向后退边说道，他的话语意味深长：“我是唯一一个生在新大陆，却可以双手举向上帝说，我在全美国没有朋友，一个也没有的人！”塔列朗永远也不会忘记他说这些话时那悲痛欲绝的表情。
6.“你是谁？”当陌生人退到下一个房间的时候，他大声问道，“你叫什么？”“我的名字？”对方笑着回答道，癫狂的表情里自嘲多于喜悦，“我的名字叫本尼迪克特·阿诺德①！”他走了。塔列朗倒在椅子上，喘着粗气：“阿诺德，叛逆者！”
7.就这样，阿诺德满世界地流浪，成为另外一个该隐，他的眉宇间留下了流浪者的印记。即使在阿勒费尔旅馆那个与世隔绝的屋子里，他的罪行也会让他遭到报应，强迫他说出自己的名字--他的名字是他恶行的同义词。他生命的最后二十年里阴云密布，在历史的那一页中满纸黑暗，却也有点点微光闪烁。
8.人们不知道他是怎样辞世的，但是，毫无疑问，我们可以肯定的是他辞世的时候也没有朋友。懊悔纠缠着他走进坟墓，约翰·安德烈在他耳畔低语。他记忆中的曾经的辉煌像疮口一样折磨着他的心，永远不断地低语：“忠实于你的祖国。你做了什么呢？哦！阿诺德，叛国者！”