), and the light of the searchlight dazzled Lime (а свет фонарика ослепил Лайма). We moved slowly on (мы медленно двинулись дальше), our revolvers trained for a chance (с нашими револьверами наготове на всякий случай;
train — тренировать, готовить; наводить /орудие, объектив и т. п./), and Lime turned this way and that way like a rabbit dazzled by headlights (а Лайм поворачивал туда и сюда, словно кролик, ослепленный фарами): then suddenly he took a flying jump (затем внезапно он прыгнул с разбега: «взял летящий прыжок») into the deep central rushing stream (в глубокий центральный несущийся поток). When we turned the searchlight after him he was submerged (когда мы повернули фонарь за ним, он был погружен), and the current of the sewer carried him rapidly on (и течение канализации несло его быстро дальше), past the body of Bates (мимо тела Бэйтса), out of the range of the searchlight into the dark (за пределы досягаемости фонаря во тьму). What makes a man (что заставляет человека), without hope (без надежды), cling to a few more minutes of existence (цепляться за несколько больше минут существования)? Is it a good quality or a bad one (есть это хорошее качество или плохое)? I have no idea (не знаю: «я не имею никакого понятия»).
passage ['pxsIG], reverberate [rI'vq:b(q)reIt], echo ['ekqu], travel [trxvl], chorus ['kO:rqs], ricochet ['rIkqSeI], channel ['tSxn(q)l], sewage ['sju:IG], carton ['kRt(q)n], submerge [sqb'mq:G], existence [Ig'zIst(q)ns], quality ['kwOlItI]
"Are you hurt?"
"Scraped my hand, that's all. Here, take this other torch, sir, while I tie my hand up. Don't shine it. He's in one of the side passages." For a long time the sound of the shot went on reverberating: when the last echo died a whistle blew ahead of them, and Martins' companion blew an answer.
Martins said, "It's an odd thing—I don't even know your name."
"Bates, sir." He gave a low laugh in the darkness: "This isn't my usual beat. Do you know the Horseshoe, sir?"
"Yes."
"And the Duke of Grafton?"
"Yes."
"Well, it takes a lot to make a world."
Martins said, "Let me come in front. I don't think he'll shoot at me, and I want to talk to him."
"I had orders to look after you, sir, careful."
"That's all right." He edged round Bates, plunging a foot deeper in the stream as he went. When he was in front he called out, "Harry," and the name set up an echo, "Harry, Harry, Harry!" that travelled down the stream and woke a whole chorus of whistles in the darkness. He called again, "Harry. Come out. It's no use."