if.goldfinger-第19节

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kicked　a　hole　with　his　toe　and　dropped　the　ball　in　the　hole。　He　then　stood　just　behind　the　half…buried　ball　with　his　feet　close　together。　He　looked　up　at　Bond。　'Remember　he　jumped　up　to　look　at　the　line　to　the　hole；　sir？'
　'Yes。'
　'Just　watch　this；　sir。'　Hawker　looked　towards　the　ninth　pin　and　jumped；　just　as　Goldfinger　had　done；　as　if　to　get　the　line。　Then　he　looked　up　at　Bond　again　and　pointed　to　the　ball　at　his　feet。　The　heavy　impact　of　the　two　feet　just　behind　the　ball　had　levelled　the　hole　in　which　it　had　lain　and　had　squeezed　the　ball　out　so　that　it　was　now　perfectly　teed　for　an　easy　shot　…　for　just　the　easy　cut…up　shot　which　had　seemed　utterly　impossible　from　Goldfinger's　lie　at　The　Virgin。
　Bond　looked　at　his　caddie　for　a　moment　in　silence。　Then　he　said；　'Thanks；　Hawker。　Give　me　the　bat　and　the　ball。　Somebody's　going　to　be　second　in　this　match；　and　I'm　damned　if　it's　going　to　be　me。'
　'Yes；　sir；'　said　Hawker　stolidly。　He　limped　off　on　the　short　cut　that　would　take　him　half　way　down　the　tenth　fairway。
　Bond　sauntered　slowly　over　the　rise　and　down　to　the　tenth　tee。　He　hardly　looked　at　Goldfinger　who　was　standing　on　the　tee　swishing　his　driver　impatiently。　Bond　was　clearing　his　mind　of　everything　but　cold；　offensive　resolve。　For　the　first　time　since　the　first　tee；　he　felt　supremely　confident。　All　he　needed　was　a　sign　from　heaven　and　his　game　would　catch　fire。
　The　tenth　at　the　Royal　St　Marks　is　the　most　dangerous　hole　on　the　course。　The　second　shot；　to　the　skiddy　plateau　green　with　cavernous　bunkers　to　right　and　left　and　a　steep　hill　beyond；　has　broken　many　hearts。　Bond　remembered　that　Philip　Scrutton；　out　in　four　under　fours　in　the　Gold　Bowl；　had　taken　a　fourteen　at　this　hole；　seven　of　them　ping…pong　shots　from　one　bunker　to　another；　to　and　fro　across　the　green。　Bond　knew　that　Goldfinger　would　play　his　second　to　the　apron；　or　short　of　it；　and　be　glad　to　get　a　five。　Bond　must　go　for　it　and　get　his　four。
　Two　good　drives　and；　sure　enough；　Goldfinger　well　up　on　the　apron　with　his　second。　A　possible　four。　Bond　took　his　seven；　laid　off　plenty　for　the　breeze　and　fired　the　ball　off　into　the　sky。　At　first　he　thought　he　had　laid　off　too　much；　but　then　the　ball　began　to　float　to　the　left。　It　pitched　and　stopped　dead　in　the　soft　sand　blown　on　to　the　green　from　the　right…hand　bunker。　A　nasty　fifteen…foot　putt。　Bond　would　now　be　glad　to　get　a　half。　Sure　enough；　Goldfinger　putted　up　to　within　a　yard。　That；　thought　Bond　as　he　squared　up　to　his　putt；　he　will　have　to　hole。　He　hit　his　own　putt　fairly　smartly　to　get　it　through　the　powdering　of　sand　and　was　horrified　to　see　it　going　like　lightning　across　the　skiddy　green。　God；　he　was　going　to　have　not　a　yard；　but　a　two…yard　putt　back！　But　suddenly；　as　if　drawn　by　a　magnet；　the　ball　swerved　straight　for　the　hole；　hit　the　back　of　the　tin；　bounced　up　and　fell　into　the　cup　with　an　audible　rattle。　The　sign　from　heaven！　Bond　went　up　to　Hawker；　winked　at　him　and　took　his　driver。
　They　left　the　caddies　and　walked　down　the　slope　and　back　to　the　next　tee。　Goldfinger　said　coldly；　'That　putt　ought　to　have　run　off　the　green。'
　Bond　said　off…handedly；　'Always　give　the　hole　a　chance！'　He　teed　up　his　ball　and　hit　his　best　drive　of　the　day　down　the　breeze。　Wedge　and　one　putt？　Goldfinger　hit　his　regulation　shot　and　they　walked　off　again。　Bond　said；　'By　the　way；　what　happened　to　that　nice　Miss　Masterton？'
　Goldfinger　looked　straight　in　front　of　him。　'She　left　my　employ。'
　Bond　thought；　good　for　her！　He　said；　'Oh；　I　must　get　in　touch　with　her　again。　Where　did　she　go　to？'
　'I　couldn't　say。'　Goldfinger　walked　away　from　Bond　towards　his　ball。　Bond's　drive　was　out　of　sight；　over　the　ridge　that　bisected　the　fairway。　It　wouldn't　be　more　than　fifty　yards　from　the　pin。　Bond　thought　he　knew　what　would　be　in　Goldfinger's　mind；　what　is　in　most　golfers'　minds　when　they　smell　the　first　scent　of　a　good　lead　melting　away。　Bond　wouldn't　be　surprised　to　see　that　grooved　swing　quicken　a　trifle。　It　did。　Goldfinger　hooked　into　a　bunker　on　the　left　of　the　green。
　Now　was　the　moment　when　it　would　be　the　end　of　the　game　if　Bond　made　a　mistake；　let　his　man　off　the　hook。　He　had　a　slightly　downhill　lie；　otherwise　an　easy　chip　…　but　to　the　trickiest　green　on　the　course。　Bond　played　it　like　a　man。　The　ball　ended　six　feet　from　the　pin。　Goldfinger　played　well　out　of　his　bunker；　but　missed　the　longish　putt。　Now　Bond　was　only　one　down。
　They　halved　the　dog…leg　twelfth　in　inglorious　fives　and　the　longish　thirteenth　also　in　fives；　Goldfinger　having　to　hole　a　good　putt　to　do　so。
　Now　a　tiny　cleft　of　concentration　had　appeared　on　Gold…finger's　massive；　unlined　forehead。　He　took　a　drink　of　water　from　the　tap　beside　the　fourteenth　tee。　Bond　waited　for　him。　He　didn't　want　a　sharp　clang　from　that　tin　cup　when　it　was　out…of…bounds　over　the　fence　to　the　right　and　the　drive　into　the　breeze　favouring　a　slice！　Bond　brought　his　left　hand　over　to　increase　his　draw　and　slowed　down　his　swing。　The　drive；　well　to　the　left；　was　only　just　adequate；　but　at　least　it　had　stayed　in　bounds；　Goldfinger；　apparently　unmoved　by　the　out…of…bounds　hazard；　hit　his　standard　shot。　They　both　negotiated　the　transverse　canal　without　damage　and　it　was　another　half　in　five。　Still　one　down　and　now　only　four　to　play。
　The　four　hundred　and　sixty　yards　fifteenth　is　perhaps　the　only　hole　where　the　long　hitter　may　hope　to　gain　one　clear　shot。　Two　smashing　woods　will　just　get　you　over　the　line　of　bunkers　that　lie　right　up　against　the　green。　Goldfinger　had　to　play　short　of　them　with　his　second。　He　could　hardly　improve　on　a　five　and　it　was　up　to　Bond　to　hit　a　really　godlike　second　shot　from　a　barely　adequate　drive。
　The　sun　was　on　its　way　down　and　the　shadows　of　the　four　men　were　beginning　to　lengthen。　Bond　had　taken　up　his　stance。　It　was　a　good　lie。　He　had　kept　his　driver。　There　was　dead　silence　as　he　gave　his　two　incisive　waggles。　This　was　going　to　be　a　vital　stroke。　Remember　to　pause　at　the　top　of　the　swing；　e　down　slow　and　whip　the　club　head　through　at　the　last　second。　Bond　began　to　take　the　club　back。　Something　moved　at　the　corner　of　his'right　eye。　From　nowhere　the　shadow　of　Goldfinger's　huge　head　approached　the　ball　on　the　ground；　engulfed　it　and　moved　on。　Bond　let　his　swing　take　itself　to　pieces　in　sections。　Then　he　stood　away　from　his　ball　and　looked　up。　Goldfinger's　feet　were　still　moving。　He　was　looking　carefully　up　at　the　sky。
　'Shades　please；　Goldfinger。'　Bond's　voice　was　furiously　controlled。
　Goldfinger　stopped　and　looked　slowly　at　Bond。　The　eyebrows　were　raised　a　fraction　in　inquiry。　He　moved　back　and　stood　still；　saying　nothing。
　Bond　went　back　to　his　ball。　Now　then；　relax！　To　hell　with　Goldfinger。　Slam　that　ball　on　to　the　green。　Just　stand　still　and　hit　it。　There　was　a　moment　when　the　world　stood　still；　then。。。　then　somehow　Bond　did　hit　it　…　on　a　low　trajectory　that　mounted　gracefully　to　carry　the　distant　surf　of　the　bunkers。　The　ball　hit　the　bank　below　the　green；　bounced　high　with　the　impact　and　rolled　out　of　sight　into　the　saucer　round　the　pin。
　Hawker　came　up　and　took　the　driver　out　of　Bond's　hand。　They　walked　on　together。　Hawker　said　seriously；　'That's　one　of　the　finest　shots　I've　seen　in　thirty　years。'　He　lowered　his　voice。　'I　thought　he'd　fixed　you　then；　sir。'
　'He　damned　nearly　did；　Hawker。　It　was　Alfred　Blacking　that　hit　that　ball；　not　me。〃　Bond　took　out　his　cigarettes；　gave　one　to　Hawker　and　lit　his　own。　He　said　quietly；　'All　square　and　three　to　play。　We've　got　to　watch　those　next　three　holes。　Know　what　I　mean？'
　'Don't　you　worry；　sir。　I'll　keep　my　eye　on　him。'
　They　came　up　with　the　green。　Goldfinger　had　pitched　on　and　had　a　long　putt　for　a　four；　but　Bond's　ball　was　only　two　inches　away　from　the　hole。　Goldfinger　picked　up　his　ball　and　walked　off　the　green。　They　halved　the　short　sixteenth　in　good　threes。　Now　there　were　the　two　long　holes　home。　Fours　would　win　them。　Bond　hit　a　fine　drive　down　the　centre。　Goldfinger　pushed　his　far　out　to　the　right　into　deep　rough。　Bond　walked　along　trying　not　to　be　too　jubilant；　trying　not　to　count　his　chickens。　A　win　for　him　at　this　hole　and　he　would　only　need　a　half　at　the　eighteenth　for　the　match。　He　prayed　that　Goldfinger's　ball　would　be　unplayable　or；　better　still；　lost
　Hawker　had　gone　on　ahead。　He　had　already　laid　down　his　bag　and　was　busily　…　far　tod　busily　to　Bond's　way　of　thinking　…　searching　for　Goldfinger's　ball　when　they　came　up。
　It　was　bad　stuff　…　jungle　country；　deep　thick　luxuriant　grass　whose　roots　still　held　last　night's　dew。　Unless　they　were　very　lucky；　they　couldn't　hope　to　find　the　ball。　After　a　few　minutes'　search　Goldfinger　and　his　caddie　drifted　away　still　wider　to　where　the　rough　thinned　out　into　isolated　tufts。　That's　good；　thought　Bond。　That　wasn't　anything　like　the　line。　Suddenly　he　trod　on　something。　Hell　and　damnation。　Should　he　stamp　it　in？　He　shrugged　his　shoulders；　bent　down　and　gently　uncovered　the　ball　so　as　not　to　improve　the　lie。　Yes　it　was　a　Dunlop　65。　'Here　you　are；'　he　called　grudgingly。　'Oh　no；　sorry。　You　play　with　a　Number　One；　don't　you？'
　'Yes；'　came　back　Goldfinger's　voice　impatiently。
　'Well；　this　is　a　Number　Seven。'　Bond　picked　h　up　and　walked　over　to　Goldfinger。
　Goldfinger　gave　the　ball　a　cursory　glance。　He　said；　'Not　mine；'　and　went　on　p