Hallo fairy,
ich nehme an, dass deine Geschichten in der Übersetzung nur etwas andere Titel bekommen haben.
Der Behexte und der Pakt ist wahrscheinlich Galadriels Der Verwünschte, auf englisch The Haunted Man and the Ghost's Bargain.
Die ersten Zeilen auf englisch zum Vergleich:
CHAPTER I - The Gift Bestowed
Everybody said so.
Far be it from me to assert that what everybody says must be true. Everybody is, often, as likely to be wrong as right. In the general experience, everybody has been wrong so often, and it has taken, in most instances, such a weary while to find out how wrong, that the authority is proved to be fallible. Everybody may sometimes be right; “but that’s no rule,” as the ghost of Giles Scroggins says in the ballad.
The dread word, GHOST, recalls me.
Die Silversterglocken sind garantiert Die Zauberglocken, englisch The Chimes
Beginn:
CHAPTER I - First Quarter.
Here are not many people - and as it is desirable that a story-teller and a story-reader should establish a mutual understanding as soon as possible, I beg it to be noticed that I confine this observation neither to young people nor to little people, but extend it to all conditions of people: little and big, young and old: yet growing up, or already growing down again - there are not, I say, many people who would care to sleep in a church. I don’t mean at sermon-time in warm weather (when the thing has actually been done, once or twice), but in the night, and alone. A great multitude of persons will be violently astonished, I know, by this position, in the broad bold Day. But it applies to Night. It must be argued by night, and I will undertake to maintain it successfully on any gusty winter’s night appointed for the purpose, with any one opponent chosen from the rest, who will meet me singly in an old churchyard, before an old church-door; and will previously empower me to lock him in, if needful to his satisfaction, until morning.
Auf der Walstatt des Lebens müsste Der Kampf des Lebens sein, englisch The Battle of Life.
Beginn:
CHAPTER I - Part The First
Once upon a time, it matters little when, and in stalwart England,
it matters little where, a fierce battle was fought. It was fought
upon a long summer day when the waving grass was green. Many a
wild flower formed by the Almighty Hand to be a perfumed goblet for
the dew, felt its enamelled cup filled high with blood that day,
and shrinking dropped. Many an insect deriving its delicate colour
from harmless leaves and herbs, was stained anew that day by dying
men, and marked its frightened way with an unnatural track. The
painted butterfly took blood into the air upon the edges of its
wings. The stream ran red. The trodden ground became a quagmire,
whence, from sullen pools collected in the prints of human feet and
horses' hoofs, the one prevailing hue still lowered and glimmered
at the sun.
Das Heimchen am Herd von der Liste von Galadriesl Eröffnungsbeitrag heißt auf englisch The Cricket on the Hearth und beginnt so:
CHAPTER I - Chirp the First
The kettle began it! Don’t tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle said. I know better. Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record to the end of time that she couldn’t say which of them began it; but, I say the kettle did. I ought to know, I hope! The kettle began it, full five minutes by the little waxy-faced Dutch clock in the corner, before the Cricket uttered a chirp.
As if the clock hadn’t finished striking, and the convulsive little Haymaker at the top of it, jerking away right and left with a scythe in front of a Moorish Palace, hadn’t mowed down half an acre of imaginary grass before the Cricket joined in at all!
Die Stechpalme heißt im Original The Holly-Tree
FIRST BRANCH—MYSELF
I have kept one secret in the course of my life. I am a bashful man. Nobody would suppose it, nobody ever does suppose it, nobody ever did suppose it, but I am naturally a bashful man. This is the secret which I have never breathed until now.
I might greatly move the reader by some account of the innumerable places I have not been to, the innumerable people I have not called upon or received, the innumerable social evasions I have been guilty of, solely because I am by original constitution and character a bashful man. But I will leave the reader unmoved, and proceed with the object before me.
Und Eines Reisenden Gepäck schließlich dürfte Somebody's Luggage sein.
CHAPTER I—HIS LEAVING IT TILL CALLED FOR
The writer of these humble lines being a Waiter, and having come of a family of Waiters, and owning at the present time five brothers who are all Waiters, and likewise an only sister who is a Waitress, would wish to offer a few words respecting his calling; first having the pleasure of hereby in a friendly manner offering the Dedication of the same unto Joseph, much respected Head Waiter at the Slamjam Coffee-house, London, E.C., than which a individual more eminently deserving of the name of man, or a more amenable honour to his own head and heart, whether considered in the light of a Waiter or regarded as a human being, do not exist.
Anhand dieser englischen Anfänge könnt ihr, falls eure Geschichten auch andere Titel bekommen haben sollten, vergleichen, um welche es sich handelt. Hoffentlich hilft euch das weiter.