Next morning a man walks into their camp—a pale, haggard man who looks at them frowningly, piercingly. " That you, Andresen" ? says the man. It is Aronsen, Aronsen the trader.

第二天早上，一个男人走进了他们的营地——一个面色苍白、憔悴的男人，他皱着眉头，目光锐利地看着他们。 “那个你，安德烈森”？男人说。是阿隆森，商人阿隆森。

I frowningly sat down to my breakfast. Mr. Pumblechook stood over me and poured out my tea—before I could touch the teapot—with the air of a benefactor who was resolved to be true to the last.

我皱着眉头坐下来吃早餐。 Pumblechook 先生站在我身边，为我倒茶——在我还没来得及碰茶壶之前——他的神态是一位决心忠于最后的恩人。