en-de  Smith - Chapter I Easy
Kapitel 1 Sein Name war Smith und er war zwölf Jahre alt.
Sind Sie überrascht? Er hatte natürlich Glück gehabt.
Er war ein Taschendieb und junge Taschendiebe in London erreichten dieses Alter normalerweise nicht.
Viele Dinge waren gegen sie.
Sie wurden krank und starben.
Oder sie waren nicht schnell genug - und starben.
Die Männer des Königs versuchten, die Taschendiebe zu fangen und sie aufzuhängen.
Aber Smith hatte Glück gehabt.
Sie konnten ihn nicht schnappen und so hängten sie ihn nicht.
Er war zu schnell.

Londons Straßen waren eng und dunkel.
Smith kannte sie gut und bewegte sich schnell und ruhig hin und her.
Er konnte die Tasche eines reichen Mannes in einem Moment leeren.

Sein bevorzugter Platz war Ludgate Hill.
Es war eine sehr geschäftige Straße.
Kutschen kamen von oben herein.
Sie kamen seitlich herein.
Und bald konnte sich keine mehr bewegen.
Die Fahrer wurden zornig und brüllten.
Aber das half ihnen nicht.
Viele Leute verließen nun die Kutschen und liefen.
"Wir werden schneller sein, wenn wir laufen", sagten sie.

Smith wartete auf die Reichen bei Ludgate Hill.

Dort war er an einem kalten Morgen am 17. Dezember -.
Ein alter Herr verließ seine Kutsche und ging den Hügel hinauf.
Smith dachte, dass er vom Land war.
Die weiten Taschen seines Mantels waren nicht wie die Taschen eines Städters.
Smith lachte leise und folgte dem alten Herrn wie ein Schatten.

Der Herr schaute nach dem Weg zu einem Büro.
Er wandte sich in die Godliman Straße.
Smiths Schatten blieb genau hinter ihm.
Die Gebäude waren hoch und unbeleuchtet.
Ein- oder zweimal hielt der alte Mann an und tastete in eine Hosentasche.
Smith merkte sich diese Tasche.

Plötzlich erinnerte sich der alte Mann an den Ort und bog in den Curtis Court ein.
Smith wusste gut Bescheid.
Der Platz hatte Büros auf seinen drei Seiten.
Es gab drei Türen, aber nur ein Fenster.

Smith bewegte sich schnell.
Sein Schatten ging an dem alten Mann vorbei.
Der Herr sah es nicht, sondern spürte nur einen kalten Wind.
Im nächsten Moment rannte Smith von einem Eingang geradewegs in den alten Mann hinein.

" Entschuldigung, Sir! Entschuldigung-", schrie er.

Sie bewegten sich links, rechts, links.
Smiths Hand berührte den Mantel des alten Mannes.
" Wo willst du hin, Junge?" rief er.
Der Ruf kam zu spät, um zu helfen.
Seine Tasche war schon leer.

Smith blieb stehen.
Die Geräusche von Schritten kamen in den Curtis Court.
Er konnte nicht von hier weglaufen! Er ging in den Eingang zurück.
Zwei Männer in braunen Anzügen erschienen und Smith kannte ihre Art.
Sie arbeiteten sehr schnell.
Sie hielten die Arme des alten Mannes fest und stießen ein langes, kaltes Messer in sein warmes Herz.
Gemeinsam zerrten sie den Körper in den Schatten und leerten die Taschen.
Smith hatte Angst.
Er mochte keine toten Körper.

"Er hat es nicht", sagte eine Stimme.
"Es ist nicht hier."

Es gab ein neues Geräusch im Curtis Court.
Ein lahmer Mann ging mit einem Stock.
Smith erkannte das an den Geräuschen.
Er konnte den Mann nicht sehen, aber er hatte Angst.

"Er hat es nicht, Sir", sagte der Mörder.

"Er muss es haben", sagte der Lahme.
Er sprach mit der sanften Stimme eines Gentleman.
"Schau noch mal!"

"Wir haben nachgeschaut, Sir!
Es ist nicht hier."

"Schau nochmal nach! Wieder! Es muss da sein."

"Wir können nicht hierbleiben, Sir! Sie werden uns aufhängen, wenn sie uns schnappen.
Schau selbst nach.
Wir hauen jetzt ab.
Schnell ! Schnell! Es kommen Leute."

Smith hörte die Füße des Killers wieder und den Stock des lahmen Mannes.
Dann war es im Hof einen Moment ruhig, aber Smith bewegte sich nicht.
Er hörte Stimmen, und aus der Godlimanstraße tauchten Männer auf.
Ein Dutzend Leute standen bald um die Leiche des alten Mannes herum.

Aber die Leute kamen nicht aus den Büros des Gerichts.

Smith verließ seinen Platz und ging nach draußen.
Er sagte ein paar Worte zu den Leuten.
Dann ging er direkt zwischen ihnen durch, wie ein Messer.
Er war in der Godliman Street - und frei!

Genau in diesem Moment öffnete sich eine Tür im Hof.
Es war die Tür neben dem Fenster.
Ein Mann verließ ruhig das Büro.

Smith rannte fünfzehn Minuten lang und ruhte sich dann aus.
Er fühlte in seinen alten Mantel.
"Was habe ich diesmal bekommen?" sagte er zu sich selbst.
"Der alte Mann starb dafür, und so muss es einen großen Wert haben."

Smith fühlte danach und zog es heraus.
Es war ein Dokument.
Ein Dokument?
Smith war sehr, sehr verärgert.
Er war der beste und schnellste Langfinger in London.
Er war zu vielen Dingen fähig, aber heute war nicht sein Glückstag.
Weil er nicht lesen konnte.
unit 1
Chapter I His name was Smith, and he was twelve years old.
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unit 2
Are you surprised at that?
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unit 3
He was lucky of course.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 8 months, 1 week ago
unit 4
He was a pickpocket, and young pickpockets in London didn't usually reach that age.
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 8 months, 1 week ago
unit 5
A lot of things were against them.
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unit 6
They got ill and died.
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unit 7
Or they weren't quick enough—and died.
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unit 8
The king's men tried to catch pickpockets and hang them.
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unit 9
But Smith was lucky.
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unit 10
They couldn't catch him, and so they didn't hang him.
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unit 11
He was too quick.
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unit 12
The streets of London were narrow and dark.
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unit 13
Smith knew them well and moved about quickly and quietly.
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unit 14
He could empty a rich man's pocket in a moment.
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unit 15
His favourite place was Ludgate Hill.
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unit 16
It was a very busy street.
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Carriages came into it from the top.
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They came in from the sides.
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And soon none could move.
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unit 20
The drivers got angry and shouted.
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unit 21
But that didn't help them.
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Many people just left their carriages and walked.
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"We'll be quicker if we walk," they said.
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unit 24
Smith waited for the rich men at Ludgate Hill.
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He was there on a cold morning in December 17–.
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unit 26
An old gentleman left his carriage and walked up the hill.
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unit 27
Smith thought that he was from the country.
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unit 28
The wide pockets of his coat were not like a city man's pockets.
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unit 29
Smith laughed quietly and followed the old gentleman like a shadow.
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unit 30
The gentleman was looking for the way to an office.
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unit 31
He turned into Godliman Street.
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unit 32
Smith's shadow stayed just behind him.
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unit 33
The buildings were tall and dark.
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unit 34
Once or twice the old man stopped and felt in a pocket.
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unit 35
Smith noticed that pocket.
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unit 36
Suddenly the old man remembered the place and turned into Curtis Court.
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unit 37
Smith knew it well.
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unit 38
The court had offices on its three sides.
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unit 39
There were three doors but only one window.
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unit 40
Smith moved quickly.
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unit 41
His shadow went past the old man.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 8 months, 1 week ago
unit 42
The gentleman didn't see it but just felt a cold wind.
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unit 43
The next moment Smith ran from a doorway, straight into the old man.
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unit 44
"Sorry, sir!
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unit 45
Sorry–" he cried.
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unit 46
They moved left, right, left.
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unit 47
Smith's hand touched the old man's coat.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 8 months, 1 week ago
unit 48
"Where are you going, boy?"
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unit 49
he shouted.
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unit 50
The shout was too late to help.
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unit 51
His pocket was already empty.
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unit 52
Smith stopped.
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unit 53
The sounds of feet came into Curtis Court.
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unit 54
He couldn't run out of the place!
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unit 55
He went back into the doorway.
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unit 56
Two men in brown suits appeared, and Smith knew their kind.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 8 months, 1 week ago
unit 57
They worked very quickly.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 8 months, 1 week ago
unit 58
They held the old man's arms and pushed a long, cold knife into his warm heart.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 8 months, 1 week ago
unit 59
Together they pulled the body into the shadows and emptied the pockets.
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unit 60
Smith was afraid.
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unit 61
He didn't like dead bodies.
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unit 62
"He hasn't got it," a voice said.
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unit 63
"It isn't here."
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unit 64
There was a new sound in Curtis Court.
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A lame man was walking with a stick.
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Smith knew that from the sounds.
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He couldn't see the man, but he was afraid.
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"He hasn't got it, sir," the killer said.
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"He must have it," the lame man said.
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He spoke with the soft voice of a gentleman.
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"Look again!"
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"We've looked, sir.
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unit 73
It isn't here."
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unit 74
"Look again!
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unit 75
Again!
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unit 76
It must be there."
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unit 77
"We can't stay, sir!
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They'll hang us it they catch us.
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unit 79
Look for it yourself.
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We're going.
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Quick!
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Quick!
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unit 83
People are coming."
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unit 84
Smith heard the killers' feet again, and the lame man's stick.
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unit 85
Then the court was quiet for a moment, but Smith didn't move.
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He heard voices, and men appeared from Godliman Street.
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unit 87
A dozen people were soon standing round the old man's body.
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unit 88
But people did not come from the offices in the court.
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unit 89
Smith left his place and walked outside.
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He said a few words to the people.
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unit 91
Then he went straight between them, like a knife.
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unit 92
He was in Godliman Street—and free!
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Just then a door opened in the court.
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unit 94
It was the door beside the window.
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unit 95
A man left the office quietly.
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unit 96
Smith ran for fifteen minutes and then rested.
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unit 97
He felt inside his old coat.
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unit 98
"What have I got this time?"
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unit 99
he said to himself.
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unit 100
"The old man died for it, and so it must have great value."
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unit 101
Smith felt about and pulled it out.
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unit 102
It was a document.
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unit 103
A document?
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unit 104
Smith was very, very angry.
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unit 105
He was the best and the quickest pickpocket in London.
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unit 106
He could do many things, but today wasn't his lucky day.
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unit 107
Because he couldn't read.
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Chapter I

His name was Smith, and he was twelve years old.
Are you surprised at that? He was lucky of course.
He was a pickpocket, and young pickpockets in London didn't usually reach that age.
A lot of things were against them.
They got ill and died.
Or they weren't quick enough—and died.
The king's men tried to catch pickpockets and hang them.
But Smith was lucky.
They couldn't catch him, and so they didn't hang him.
He was too quick.

The streets of London were narrow and dark.
Smith knew them well and moved about quickly and quietly.
He could empty a rich man's pocket in a moment.

His favourite place was Ludgate Hill.
It was a very busy street.
Carriages came into it from the top.
They came in from the sides.
And soon none could move.
The drivers got angry and shouted.
But that didn't help them.
Many people just left their carriages and walked.
"We'll be quicker if we walk," they said.

Smith waited for the rich men at Ludgate Hill.

He was there on a cold morning in December 17–.
An old gentleman left his carriage and walked up the hill.
Smith thought that he was from the country.
The wide pockets of his coat were not like a city man's pockets.
Smith laughed quietly and followed the old gentleman like a shadow.

The gentleman was looking for the way to an office.
He turned into Godliman Street.
Smith's shadow stayed just behind him.
The buildings were tall and dark.
Once or twice the old man stopped and felt in a pocket.
Smith noticed that pocket.

Suddenly the old man remembered the place and turned into Curtis Court.
Smith knew it well.
The court had offices on its three sides.
There were three doors but only one window.

Smith moved quickly.
His shadow went past the old man.
The gentleman didn't see it but just felt a cold wind.
The next moment Smith ran from a doorway, straight into the old man.

"Sorry, sir! Sorry–" he cried.

They moved left, right, left.
Smith's hand touched the old man's coat.
"Where are you going, boy?" he shouted.
The shout was too late to help.
His pocket was already empty.

Smith stopped.
The sounds of feet came into Curtis Court.
He couldn't run out of the place! He went back into the doorway.
Two men in brown suits appeared, and Smith knew their kind.
They worked very quickly.
They held the old man's arms and pushed a long, cold knife into his warm heart.
Together they pulled the body into the shadows and emptied the pockets.
Smith was afraid.
He didn't like dead bodies.

"He hasn't got it," a voice said.
"It isn't here."

There was a new sound in Curtis Court.
A lame man was walking with a stick.
Smith knew that from the sounds.
He couldn't see the man, but he was afraid.

"He hasn't got it, sir," the killer said.

"He must have it," the lame man said.
He spoke with the soft voice of a gentleman.
"Look again!"

"We've looked, sir.
It isn't here."

"Look again! Again! It must be there."

"We can't stay, sir! They'll hang us it they catch us.
Look for it yourself.
We're going.
Quick! Quick! People are coming."

Smith heard the killers' feet again, and the lame man's stick.
Then the court was quiet for a moment, but Smith didn't move.
He heard voices, and men appeared from Godliman Street.
A dozen people were soon standing round the old man's body.

But people did not come from the offices in the court.

Smith left his place and walked outside.
He said a few words to the people.
Then he went straight between them, like a knife.
He was in Godliman Street—and free!

Just then a door opened in the court.
It was the door beside the window.
A man left the office quietly.

Smith ran for fifteen minutes and then rested.
He felt inside his old coat.
"What have I got this time?" he said to himself.
"The old man died for it, and so it must have great value."

Smith felt about and pulled it out.
It was a document.
A document?
Smith was very, very angry.
He was the best and the quickest pickpocket in London.
He could do many things, but today wasn't his lucky day.
Because he couldn't read.