《Dombey and Son》——董贝父子(中英文对照)完结_派派后花园

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[Novel] 《Dombey and Son》——董贝父子(中英文对照)完结

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Dombey and Son is a novel by the Victorian author Charles Dickens. It was first published in monthly parts between October 1846 and April 1848 with the full title Dealings with the Firm of Dombey and Son: Wholesale, Retail and for Exportation. Dickens started writing the book in Lausanne, Switzerland, but travelled extensively during the course of its writing, returning to England to begin another work before completing Dombey and Son.
《董贝父子》是狄更斯最重要的作品之一,发表于1848年。小说描写了董贝父子公司的盛衰史。董贝是个贪得无厌的大资本家,妻子儿女都成了他追逐利润的工具和摆设。公司经理卡克尔是个奸诈小人,骗取了董贝的信任后又一手造成了他的破产。在现实的教训中,董贝的思想发生了转变。最后,虽然他已无法重整家业,却成全了真正的家庭幸福。

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 1
Dombey sat in the corner of the darkened room in the great arm-chair by the bedside, and Son lay tucked up warm in a little basket bedstead, carefully disposed on a low settee immediately in front of the fire and close to it, as if his constitution were analogous to that of a muffin, and it was essential to toast him brown while he was very new.
Dombey was about eight-and-forty years of age. Son about eight-and-forty minutes. Dombey was rather bald, rather red, and though a handsome well-made man, too stern and pompous in appearance, to be prepossessing. Son was very bald, and very red, and though (of course) an undeniably fine infant, somewhat crushed and spotty in his general effect, as yet. On the brow of Dombey, Time and his brother Care had set some marks, as on a tree that was to come down in good time - remorseless twins they are for striding through their human forests, notching as they go - while the countenance of Son was crossed with a thousand little creases, which the same deceitful Time would take delight in smoothing out and wearing away with the flat part of his scythe, as a preparation of the surface for his deeper operations.
Dombey, exulting in the long-looked-for event, jingled and jingled the heavy gold watch-chain that depended from below his trim blue coat, whereof the buttons sparkled phosphorescently in the feeble rays of the distant fire. Son, with his little fists curled up and clenched, seemed, in his feeble way, to be squaring at existence for having come upon him so unexpectedly.
'The House will once again, Mrs Dombey,' said Mr Dombey, 'be not only in name but in fact Dombey and Son;' and he added, in a tone of luxurious satisfaction, with his eyes half-closed as if he were reading the name in a device of flowers, and inhaling their fragrance at the same time; 'Dom-bey and Son!'
The words had such a softening influence, that he appended a term of endearment to Mrs Dombey's name (though not without some hesitation, as being a man but little used to that form of address): and said, 'Mrs Dombey, my - my dear.'
A transient flush of faint surprise overspread the sick lady's face as she raised her eyes towards him.
'He will be christened Paul, my - Mrs Dombey - of course.'
She feebly echoed, 'Of course,' or rather expressed it by the motion of her lips, and closed her eyes again.
'His father's name, Mrs Dombey, and his grandfather's! I wish his grandfather were alive this day! There is some inconvenience in the necessity of writing Junior,' said Mr Dombey, making a fictitious autograph on his knee; 'but it is merely of a private and personal complexion. It doesn't enter into the correspondence of the House. Its signature remains the same.' And again he said 'Dombey and Son, in exactly the same tone as before.
Those three words conveyed the one idea of Mr Dombey's life. The earth was made for Dombey and Son to trade in, and the sun and moon were made to give them light. Rivers and seas were formed to float their ships; rainbows gave them promise of fair weather; winds blew for or against their enterprises; stars and planets circled in their orbits, to preserve inviolate a system of which they were the centre. Common abbreviations took new meanings in his eyes, and had sole reference to them. A. D. had no concern with Anno Domini, but stood for anno Dombei - and Son.
He had risen, as his father had before him, in the course of life and death, from Son to Dombey, and for nearly twenty years had been the sole representative of the Firm. Of those years he had been married, ten - married, as some said, to a lady with no heart to give him; whose happiness was in the past, and who was content to bind her broken spirit to the dutiful and meek endurance of the present. Such idle talk was little likely to reach the ears of Mr Dombey, whom it nearly concerned; and probably no one in the world would have received it with such utter incredulity as he, if it had reached him. Dombey and Son had often dealt in hides, but never in hearts. They left that fancy ware to boys and girls, and boarding-schools and books. Mr Dombey would have reasoned: That a matrimonial alliance with himself must, in the nature of things, be gratifying and honourable to any woman of common sense. That the hope of giving birth to a new partner in such a House, could not fail to awaken a glorious and stirring ambition in the breast of the least ambitious of her sex. That Mrs Dombey had entered on that social contract of matrimony: almost necessarily part of a genteel and wealthy station, even without reference to the perpetuation of family Firms: with her eyes fully open to these advantages. That Mrs Dombey had had daily practical knowledge of his position in society. That Mrs Dombey had always sat at the head of his table, and done the honours of his house in a remarkably lady-like and becoming manner. That Mrs Dombey must have been happy. That she couldn't help it.
Or, at all events, with one drawback. Yes. That he would have allowed. With only one; but that one certainly involving much. With the drawback of hope deferred. That hope deferred, which, (as the Scripture very correctly tells us, Mr Dombey would have added in a patronising way; for his highest distinct idea even of Scripture, if examined, would have been found to be; that as forming part of a general whole, of which Dombey and Son formed another part, it was therefore to be commended and upheld) maketh the heart sick. They had been married ten years, and until this present day on which Mr Dombey sat jingling and jingling his heavy gold watch-chain in the great arm-chair by the side of the bed, had had no issue.
- To speak of; none worth mentioning. There had been a girl some six years before, and the child, who had stolen into the chamber unobserved, was now crouching timidly, in a corner whence she could see her mother's face. But what was a girl to Dombey and Son! In the capital of the House's name and dignity, such a child was merely a piece of base coin that couldn't be invested - a bad Boy - nothing more.
Mr Dombey's cup of satisfaction was so full at this moment, however, that he felt he could afford a drop or two of its contents, even to sprinkle on the dust in the by-path of his little daughter.
So he said, 'Florence, you may go and look at your pretty brother, if you lIke, I daresay. Don't touch him!'
The child glanced keenly at the blue coat and stiff white cravat, which, with a pair of creaking boots and a very loud ticking watch, embodied her idea of a father; but her eyes returned to her mother's face immediately, and she neither moved nor answered.
'Her insensibility is as proof against a brother as against every thing else,' said Mr Dombey to himself He seemed so confirmed in a previous opinion by the discovery, as to be quite glad of it'
Next moment, the lady had opened her eyes and seen the child; and the child had run towards her; and, standing on tiptoe, the better to hide her face in her embrace, had clung about her with a desperate affection very much at variance with her years.
'Oh Lord bless me!' said Mr Dombey, rising testily. 'A very illadvised and feverish proceeding this, I am sure. Please to ring there for Miss Florence's nurse. Really the person should be more care-'
'Wait! I - had better ask Doctor Peps if he'll have the goodness to step upstairs again perhaps. I'll go down. I'll go down. I needn't beg you,' he added, pausing for a moment at the settee before the fire, 'to take particular care of this young gentleman, Mrs - '
'Blockitt, Sir?' suggested the nurse, a simpering piece of faded gentility, who did not presume to state her name as a fact, but merely offered it as a mild suggestion.
'Of this young gentleman, Mrs Blockitt.'
'No, Sir, indeed. I remember when Miss Florence was born - '
'Ay, ay, ay,' said Mr Dombey, bending over the basket bedstead, and slightly bending his brows at the same time. 'Miss Florence was all very well, but this is another matter. This young gentleman has to accomplish a destiny. A destiny, little fellow!' As he thus apostrophised the infant he raised one of his hands to his lips, and kissed it; then, seeming to fear that the action involved some compromise of his dignity, went, awkwardly enough, away.
Doctor Parker Peps, one of the Court Physicians, and a man of immense reputation for assisting at the increase of great families, was walking up and down the drawing-room with his hands behind him, to the unspeakable admiration of the family Surgeon, who had regularly puffed the case for the last six weeks, among all his patients, friends, and acquaintances, as one to which he was in hourly expectation day and night of being summoned, in conjunction with Doctor Parker Pep.
'Well, Sir,' said Doctor Parker Peps in a round, deep, sonorous voice, muffled for the occasion, like the knocker; 'do you find that your dear lady is at all roused by your visit?'
'Stimulated as it were?' said the family practitioner faintly: bowing at the same time to the Doctor, as much as to say, 'Excuse my putting in a word, but this is a valuable connexion.'
Mr Dombey was quite discomfited by the question. He had thought so little of the patient, that he was not in a condition to answer it. He said that it would be a satisfaction to him, if Doctor Parker Peps would walk upstairs again.
'Good! We must not disguise from you, Sir,' said Doctor Parker Peps, 'that there is a want of power in Her Grace the Duchess - I beg your pardon; I confound names; I should say, in your amiable lady. That there is a certain degree of languor, and a general absence of elasticity, which we would rather - not -
'See,' interposed the family practitioner with another inclination of the head.
'Quite so,' said Doctor Parker Peps,' which we would rather not see. It would appear that the system of Lady Cankaby - excuse me: I should say of Mrs Dombey: I confuse the names of cases - '
'So very numerous,' murmured the family practitioner - 'can't be expected I'm sure - quite wonderful if otherwise - Doctor Parker Peps's West-End practice - '
'Thank you,' said the Doctor, 'quite so. It would appear, I was observing, that the system of our patient has sustained a shock, from which it can only hope to rally by a great and strong - '
'And vigorous,' murmured the family practitioner.
'Quite so,' assented the Doctor - 'and vigorous effort. Mr Pilkins here, who from his position of medical adviser in this family - no one better qualified to fill that position, I am sure.'
'Oh!' murmured the family practitioner. '"Praise from Sir Hubert Stanley!"'
'You are good enough,' returned Doctor Parker Peps, 'to say so. Mr Pilkins who, from his position, is best acquainted with the patient's constitution in its normal state (an acquaintance very valuable to us in forming our opinions in these occasions), is of opinion, with me, that Nature must be called upon to make a vigorous effort in this instance; and that if our interesting friend the Countess of Dombey - I beg your pardon; Mrs Dombey - should not be - '
'Able,' said the family practitioner.
'To make,' said Doctor Parker Peps.
'That effort,' said the family practitioner.
'Successfully,' said they both together.
'Then,' added Doctor Parker Peps, alone and very gravely, a crisis might arise, which we should both sincerely deplore.'
With that, they stood for a few seconds looking at the ground. Then, on the motion - made in dumb show - of Doctor Parker Peps, they went upstairs; the family practitioner opening the room door for that distinguished professional, and following him out, with most obsequious politeness.
To record of Mr Dombey that he was not in his way affected by this intelligence, would be to do him an injustice. He was not a man of whom it could properly be said that he was ever startled, or shocked; but he certainly had a sense within him, that if his wife should sicken and decay, he would be very sorry, and that he would find a something gone from among his plate and furniture, and other household possessions, which was well worth the having, and could not be lost without sincere regret. Though it would be a cool,. business-like, gentlemanly, self-possessed regret, no doubt.
His meditations on the subject were soon interrupted, first by the rustling of garments on the staircase, and then by the sudden whisking into the room of a lady rather past the middle age than otherwise but dressed in a very juvenile manner, particularly as to the tightness of her bodice, who, running up to him with a kind of screw in her face and carriage, expressive of suppressed emotion, flung her arms around his neck, and said, in a choking voice,
'My dear Paul! He's quite a Dombey!'
'Well, well!' returned her brother - for Mr Dombey was her brother - 'I think he is like the family. Don't agitate yourself, Louisa.'
'It's very foolish of me,' said Louisa, sitting down, and taking out her pocket~handkerchief, 'but he's - he's such a perfect Dombey!'
Mr Dombey coughed.
'It's so extraordinary,' said Louisa; smiling through her tears, which indeed were not overpowering, 'as to be perfectly ridiculous. So completely our family. I never saw anything like it in my life!'
'But what is this about Fanny, herself?' said Mr Dombey. 'How is Fanny?'
'My dear Paul,' returned Louisa, 'it's nothing whatever. Take my word, it's nothing whatever. There is exhaustion, certainly, but nothing like what I underwent myself, either with George or Frederick. An effort is necessary. That's all. If dear Fanny were a Dombey! - But I daresay she'll make it; I have no doubt she'll make it. Knowing it to be required of her, as a duty, of course she'll make it. My dear Paul, it's very weak and silly of me, I know, to be so trembly and shaky from head to foot; but I am so very queer that I must ask you for a glass of wine and a morsel of that cake.'
Mr Dombey promptly supplied her with these refreshments from a tray on the table.
'I shall not drink my love to you, Paul,' said Louisa: 'I shall drink to the little Dombey. Good gracious me! - it's the most astonishing thing I ever knew in all my days, he's such a perfect Dombey.'
Quenching this expression of opinion in a short hysterical laugh which terminated in tears, Louisa cast up her eyes, and emptied her glass.
'I know it's very weak and silly of me,' she repeated, 'to be so trembly and shaky from head to foot, and to allow my feelings so completely to get the better of me, but I cannot help it. I thought I should have fallen out of the staircase window as I came down from seeing dear Fanny, and that tiddy ickle sing.' These last words originated in a sudden vivid reminiscence of the baby.
They were succeeded by a gentle tap at the door.
'Mrs Chick,' said a very bland female voice outside, 'how are you now, my dear friend?'
'My dear Paul,' said Louisa in a low voice, as she rose from her seat, 'it's Miss Tox. The kindest creature! I never could have got here without her! Miss Tox, my brother Mr Dombey. Paul, my dear, my very particular friend Miss Tox.'
The lady thus specially presented, was a long lean figure, wearing such a faded air that she seemed not to have been made in what linen-drapers call 'fast colours' originally, and to have, by little and little, washed out. But for this she might have been described as the very pink of general propitiation and politeness. From a long habit of listening admiringly to everything that was said in her presence, and looking at the speakers as if she were mentally engaged in taking off impressions of their images upon her soul, never to part with the same but with life, her head had quite settled on one side. Her hands had contracted a spasmodic habit of raising themselves of their own accord as in involuntary admiration. Her eyes were liable to a similar affection. She had the softest voice that ever was heard; and her nose, stupendously aquiline, had a little knob in the very centre or key-stone of the bridge, whence it tended downwards towards her face, as in an invincible determination never to turn up at anything.
Miss Tox's dress, though perfectly genteel and good, had a certain character of angularity and scantiness. She was accustomed to wear odd weedy little flowers in her bonnets and caps. Strange grasses were sometimes perceived in her hair; and it was observed by the curious, of all her collars, frills, tuckers, wristbands, and other gossamer articles - indeed of everything she wore which had two ends to it intended to unite - that the two ends were never on good terms, and wouldn't quite meet without a struggle. She had furry articles for winter wear, as tippets, boas, and muffs, which stood up on end in rampant manner, and were not at all sleek. She was much given to the carrying about of small bags with snaps to them, that went off like little pistols when they were shut up; and when full-dressed, she wore round her neck the barrenest of lockets, representing a fishy old eye, with no approach to speculation in it. These and other appearances of a similar nature, had served to propagate the opinion, that Miss Tox was a lady of what is called a limited independence, which she turned to the best account. Possibly her mincing gait encouraged the belief, and suggested that her clipping a step of ordinary compass into two or three, originated in her habit of making the most of everything.
'I am sure,' said Miss Tox, with a prodigious curtsey, 'that to have the honour of being presented to Mr Dombey is a distinction which I have long sought, but very little expected at the present moment. My dear Mrs Chick - may I say Louisa!'
Mrs Chick took Miss Tox's hand in hers, rested the foot of her wine-glass upon it, repressed a tear, and said in a low voice, 'God bless you!'
'My dear Louisa then,' said Miss Tox, 'my sweet friend, how are you now?'
'Better,' Mrs Chick returned. 'Take some wine. You have been almost as anxious as I have been, and must want it, I am sure.'
Mr Dombey of course officiated, and also refilled his sister's glass, which she (looking another way, and unconscious of his intention) held straight and steady the while, and then regarded with great astonishment, saying, 'My dear Paul, what have you been doing!'
'Miss Tox, Paul,' pursued Mrs Chick, still retaining her hand, 'knowing how much I have been interested in the anticipation of the event of to-day, and how trembly and shaky I have been from head to foot in expectation of it, has been working at a little gift for Fanny, which I promised to present. Miss Tox is ingenuity itself.'
'My dear Louisa,' said Miss Tox. 'Don't say so.
'It is only a pincushion for the toilette table, Paul,' resumed his sister; 'one of those trifles which are insignificant to your sex in general, as it's very natural they should be - we have no business to expect they should be otherwise - but to which we attach some interest.
'Miss Tox is very good,' said Mr Dombey.
'And I do say, and will say, and must say,' pursued his sister, pressing the foot of the wine-glass on Miss Tox's hand, at each of the three clauses, 'that Miss Tox has very prettily adapted the sentiment to the occasion. I call "Welcome little Dombey" Poetry, myself!'
'Is that the device?' inquired her brother.
'That is the device,' returned Louisa.
'But do me the justice to remember, my dear Louisa,' said Miss Toxin a tone of low and earnest entreaty, 'that nothing but the - I have some difficulty in expressing myself - the dubiousness of the result would have induced me to take so great a liberty: "Welcome, Master Dombey," would have been much more congenial to my feelings, as I am sure you know. But the uncertainty attendant on angelic strangers, will, I hope, excuse what must otherwise appear an unwarrantable familiarity.' Miss Tox made a graceful bend as she spoke, in favour of Mr Dombey, which that gentleman graciously acknowledged. Even the sort of recognition of Dombey and Son, conveyed in the foregoing conversation, was so palatable to him, that his sister, Mrs Chick - though he affected to consider her a weak good-natured person - had perhaps more influence over him than anybody else.
'My dear Paul,' that lady broke out afresh, after silently contemplating his features for a few moments, 'I don't know whether to laugh or cry when I look at you, I declare, you do so remind me of that dear baby upstairs.'
'Well!' said Mrs Chick, with a sweet smile, 'after this, I forgive Fanny everything!'
It was a declaration in a Christian spirit, and Mrs Chick felt that it did her good. Not that she had anything particular to forgive in her sister-in-law, nor indeed anything at all, except her having married her brother - in itself a species of audacity - and her having, in the course of events, given birth to a girl instead of a boy: which, as Mrs Chick had frequently observed, was not quite what she had expected of her, and was not a pleasant return for all the attention and distinction she had met with.
Mr Dombey being hastily summoned out of the room at this moment, the two ladies were left alone together. Miss Tox immediately became spasmodic.
'I knew you would admire my brother. I told you so beforehand, my dear,' said Louisa. Miss Tox's hands and eyes expressed how much. 'And as to his property, my dear!'
'Ah!' said Miss Tox, with deep feeling. 'Im-mense!'
'But his deportment, my dear Louisa!' said Miss Tox. 'His presence! His dignity! No portrait that I have ever seen of anyone has been half so replete with those qualities. Something so stately, you know: so uncompromising: so very wide across the chest: so upright! A pecuniary Duke of York, my love, and nothing short of it!' said Miss Tox. 'That's what I should designate him.'
'Why, my dear Paul!' exclaimed his sister, as he returned, 'you look quite pale! There's nothing the matter?'
'I am sorry to say, Louisa, that they tell me that Fanny - '
'Now, my dear Paul,' returned his sister rising, 'don't believe it. Do not allow yourself to receive a turn unnecessarily. Remember of what importance you are to society, and do not allow yourself to be worried by what is so very inconsiderately told you by people who ought to know better. Really I'm surprised at them.'
'I hope I know, Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, stiffly, 'how to bear myself before the world.'
'Nobody better, my dear Paul. Nobody half so well. They would be ignorant and base indeed who doubted it.'
'Ignorant and base indeed!' echoed Miss Tox softly.
'But,' pursued Louisa, 'if you have any reliance on my experience, Paul, you may rest assured that there is nothing wanting but an effort on Fanny's part. And that effort,' she continued, taking off her bonnet, and adjusting her cap and gloves, in a business-like manner, 'she must be encouraged, and really, if necessary, urged to make. Now, my dear Paul, come upstairs with me.'
Mr Dombey, who, besides being generally influenced by his sister for the reason already mentioned, had really faith in her as an experienced and bustling matron, acquiesced; and followed her, at once, to the sick chamber.
The lady lay upon her bed as he had left her, clasping her little daughter to her breast. The child clung close about her, with the same intensity as before, and never raised her head, or moved her soft cheek from her mother's face, or looked on those who stood around, or spoke, or moved, or shed a tear.
'Restless without the little girl,' the Doctor whispered Mr Dombey. 'We found it best to have her in again.'
'Can nothing be done?' asked Mr Dombey.
The Doctor shook his head. 'We can do no more.'
The windows stood open, and the twilight was gathering without.
The scent of the restoratives that had been tried was pungent in the room, but had no fragrance in the dull and languid air the lady breathed.
There was such a solemn stillness round the bed; and the two medical attendants seemed to look on the impassive form with so much compassion and so little hope, that Mrs Chick was for the moment diverted from her purpose. But presently summoning courage, and what she called presence of mind, she sat down by the bedside, and said in the low precise tone of one who endeavours to awaken a sleeper:
'Fanny! Fanny!'
There was no sound in answer but the loud ticking of Mr Dombey's watch and Doctor Parker Peps's watch, which seemed in the silence to be running a race.
'Fanny, my dear,' said Mrs Chick, with assumed lightness, 'here's Mr Dombey come to see you. Won't you speak to him? They want to lay your little boy - the baby, Fanny, you know; you have hardly seen him yet, I think - in bed; but they can't till you rouse yourself a little. Don't you think it's time you roused yourself a little? Eh?'
She bent her ear to the bed, and listened: at the same time looking round at the bystanders, and holding up her finger.
'Eh?' she repeated, 'what was it you said, Fanny? I didn't hear you.'
No word or sound in answer. Mr Dombey's watch and Dr Parker Peps's watch seemed to be racing faster.
'Now, really, Fanny my dear,' said the sister-in-law, altering her position, and speaking less confidently, and more earnestly, in spite of herself, 'I shall have to be quite cross with you, if you don't rouse yourself. It's necessary for you to make an effort, and perhaps a very great and painful effort which you are not disposed to make; but this is a world of effort you know, Fanny, and we must never yield, when so much depends upon us. Come! Try! I must really scold you if you don't!'
The race in the ensuing pause was fierce and furious. The watches seemed to jostle, and to trip each other up.
'Fanny!' said Louisa, glancing round, with a gathering alarm. 'Only look at me. Only open your eyes to show me that you hear and understand me; will you? Good Heaven, gentlemen, what is to be done!'
The two medical attendants exchanged a look across the bed; and the Physician, stooping down, whispered in the child's ear. Not having understood the purport of his whisper, the little creature turned her perfectly colourless face and deep dark eyes towards him; but without loosening her hold in the least
The whisper was repeated.
'Mama!' said the child.
The little voice, familiar and dearly loved, awakened some show of consciousness, even at that ebb. For a moment, the closed eye lids trembled, and the nostril quivered, and the faintest shadow of a smile was seen.
'Mama!' cried the child sobbing aloud. 'Oh dear Mama! oh dear Mama!'
The Doctor gently brushed the scattered ringlets of the child, aside from the face and mouth of the mother. Alas how calm they lay there; how little breath there was to stir them!
Thus, clinging fast to that slight spar within her arms, the mother drifted out upon the dark and unknown sea that rolls round all the world.

在一间光线被遮暗了的房间的角落里,董贝坐在床边一张大扶手椅子上;他的儿子被包裹得暖和和的,躺在一个小摇篮里;这个小摇篮被考虑周到地放在紧靠着壁炉前面的一条矮矮的长靠椅上,仿佛他的体质和松饼相似,需要趁着他很新鲜的时候,把他烤成棕色。
董贝大约四十八岁。他的儿子出世大约四十八分钟。董贝的头稍稍有些秃,脸色稍稍有些红;虽然他是一位外貌漂亮、身材匀称的男子,可是神色过分严厉与傲慢,因此不能使人产生好感。他的儿子的头很秃,脸色很红;虽然他当然不可否认地是一个可爱的婴孩,可是看上去有些皱巴巴的,身上斑斑点点。时间和他的兄弟操劳——他们是一对残酷无情的孪生兄弟;当大踏步穿过人类森林的时候,他们一边走,一边砍伐——已经在董贝的前额上留下了一些痕迹,就像在一株在适当的时候要被砍倒的树上留下痕迹一样;他的儿子的脸上则被纵横交错地布满了上千道细小的的皱纹;同样是这个爱欺诈人的时间,他将用他大镰刀扁平的一面把这些皱纹抚平、消除,准备好一个表面,好让他在上面进行更深入的操作。
这桩盼望已久的大事终于来临,董贝感到兴高采烈;他玩弄着悬挂在他的整洁的蓝上衣下面的沉甸甸的金表链,让它发出了叮零叮零的响声;在远处炉火的微弱光线中,上衣钮扣像磷火一样闪烁着亮光。他的儿子紧握着卷曲的小拳头,似乎凭他那微弱的气力,正在向这突然降临到他身上的生命摆好进攻的架势。
“董贝夫人,”董贝先生说道,“我们的公司将再一次成为名副其实的董贝父子公司,而不是徒有虚名的了;董——贝父子!”
这几个字具有一种使他变得温柔起来的影响力,所以他在董贝夫人的名字后面又加上了一个表示亲爱的称呼(虽然他并不是没有经过一些迟疑才说出的,因为他毕竟是一位不习惯采用这种称呼方式的人),说道,“董贝夫人,我的——
我的亲爱的。”
那位有病的夫人抬起眼睛望他的时候,脸上片刻间泛起了由于微感惊讶而产生的红晕。
“在给他施洗礼的时候将给他命名为保罗,我的——董贝夫人——,当然是这样。”
她有气无力地重复说了“当然是这样”,或者更确切地说,只是动了动嘴唇,并没有发出声音,然后又闭上了眼睛。
“这是他爸爸的名字,董贝夫人,也是他爷爷的名字!我真但愿他爷爷能活到今天就好了!”然后他又用刚才同样的声调,说道,“董贝父子”。
这四个字表达了董贝先生生活中唯一的思想。土地创造出来是为了给董贝父子去经营商业的;太阳与月亮创造出来是为了给他们亮光。河流与海洋是为了运载他们的商船而形成的;彩虹向他们预示良好的气候;刮风对他们的企业有利或不利;星星和行星沿着轨道运行,是为了保存一个以他们为中心的神圣不可侵犯的体系。普通的缩略语在他的眼中有了新的意义,而且只和他们有关系:A.D与annoDomini(公元)无关,而只是代表annoDombei-andSon(董贝父子纪元)。
在生与死的过程中,他跟他父亲先前一样,曾经从儿子上升为董贝;在这之后的近20年中,他是这个公司的唯一的代表。在这20年中,他结婚已有10年。有人说,他是跟一位没有把心交给他的女士结了婚,这位女士过去曾经有过幸福,后来安心让那颗破碎了的心对现状逆来顺受,安守本分。这种流言蜚语与董贝先生密切有关,因此不大可能传到他的耳朵里;如果真的传到了,那么世界上大概没有第二个人能像他那样对它完全不相信的。董贝父子公司经常经营皮革生意,但却从来不经营心的生意。他们把这个花俏的商品让给青年男女、寄宿学校和书籍去打交道了。董贝先生可能会这样来推断事理:任何一位具有常识、和他本人结婚的妇女,理所当然地一定会觉得心满意足,光彩体面;给这样一个公司生下一个新的合伙人的希望,即使在她们当中最没有野心的女性的心中也必定会唤起那光荣得意、兴奋激动的抱负来;董贝夫人签订了那份婚约就意味着她几乎必然就会成为那个高贵的、富有的家庭的一员,且不提她给那个家庭传宗接代的事了,因此她一定会完全看到这些好处;董贝夫人曾经从日常生活经验中认识到他的社会地位;董贝夫人经常坐在他的餐桌的首席,并以出色的贵夫人的风度,十分得体地履行了家庭主妇的职责;董贝夫人一定一直是幸福的,她不可能不这样。
不过,也有美中不足的地方。对了。这个缺点他是会承认的。就只有这一个缺点;但是这一个缺点却确实关系重大。他们已经结婚十年,但是直到今天,董贝先生坐在床边的大扶手椅子上,玩弄着他的沉甸甸的金表链,让它发出了叮零叮零的响声之前,他们还没有后嗣。
——没有值得一提的后嗣。大约在六年以前,他们有了一个女儿;这个孩子没有被人觉察,已经偷偷地溜进了这个房间,现在正战战兢兢地蹲在一个角落里;她从那里可以望得见她妈妈的脸孔。可是对董贝父子公司来说,一个女儿算得了什么呢!在公司的声望与尊严的资本中,这样一个孩子只不过是一枚不能用来投资的劣币——一个坏孩子——,如此而已。
然而,董贝先生这时杯子里却装满了称心满意的酒,装得很满很满,因此他甚至可以把其中的一两滴洒到他的小女儿的小径中的尘土上。
所以他说道,“弗洛伦斯,我想,如果你喜欢的话,你可以去看看你漂亮的小弟弟嘛。可别去碰他!”
女孩子朝着蓝色的上衣和笔挺的白色领带敏锐地看了一眼,这两件东西加上一双走起来格吱格吱响的长靴和一只滴答滴答走得很响的表,构成了他对父亲的概念;但是她的眼睛立刻又回到了她母亲的脸上;她没有移动,也没有回答。
不一会儿,夫人张开了眼睛,看到了女孩子;女孩子向她跑过去,然后踮起脚跟,好让脸部尽量藏到她的怀抱中,一边悲观绝望地、而又满怀深情地紧紧抱着她,女孩子的这种感情与她的年龄是很不相称的。
“啊,天主保佑我!”董贝先生急躁地站起来,说道,“这真是十分鲁莽、十分冒失的行动!也许我最好去请佩普斯大夫,劳驾他再到楼上来一趟。我就下去。我就下去。”他走到壁炉前的长靠椅边,停了片刻,又补充说道,“我想用不着我请求您,要格外小心地照看好这位年轻的先生吧,您这位——”
“布洛基特太太,先生?”护士提示道,她是一位爱装出假笑,门第已经衰微的女人;她不敢把她的姓名当作事实来陈述,而只是把它当作一个可供考虑的建议提出来。
“照看好这位年轻的先生,布洛基特太太。”
“是的,先生,当然的。我记得弗洛伦斯小姐出生的时候——”
“是的,是的,是的,”董贝先生向那个摇篮弯下身去,同时稍稍皱了一下眉头,说道,“弗洛伦斯小姐那时一切都很好,但这却是另外一码事。这位年轻的先生是命中注定要去完成一番伟大事业的。命中注定的伟大事业呵,小家伙!”当他向婴孩这样打了招呼的时候,他把他的一只手举到唇边,吻了吻它;然后,似乎害怕这个动作有损于他的尊严,就很不自然地走开了。
帕克•佩普斯大夫是宫廷医生当中的一位,在帮助重要家族增添人口方面享有很大的声誉,现在正把双手抄在背后,在客厅里走来走去;家庭医生对他的钦佩是无法用言语形容的;在过去的六个星期中,他一直在他的病人、朋友和熟人中吹嘘现在的这个病例,说他日日夜夜、时时刻刻都等待着和帕克•佩普斯大夫一起被请去进行会诊。
“唔,先生,”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道,他那清晰、深沉、洪亮的声音这时候像被布蒙住的门铃一样,减弱了;“您去看您亲爱的夫人时,您是否发现她被惊醒了?”
“她是否好像受到了刺激?”家庭医生轻声说道,同时向帕克•佩普斯大夫鞠丁个躬,好像是说,“请原谅我插了一句话,不过这是个有价值的补充。”
董贝先生被这个问题问得很为难。他在这之前很少想到过病人,所以不知道该怎么回答才好。他说,如果帕克•佩普斯大夫肯再上楼去看看的话,那么他将十分感激。
“好!我们不应当向您掩饰真情,先生,”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道,“公爵夫人——请原谅,我把姓名给混淆了;我是想说,您的和蔼可亲的夫人缺乏精力;有一定程度的虚弱,总的说来,没有灵活应变的能力,这是我们所不愿意——”
“看到的,”家庭医生插嘴道,同时又低了一下头。
“完全不错,”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道,“这是我们所不愿意看到的。看来,坎卡贝夫人的体质,对不起,我是想说董贝夫人的体质,我把病人的姓名给混淆了。”
“病人很多很多,”家庭医生低声说道,“确实,不可能指望他把他们的姓名全都记得清清楚楚——否则倒是不可思议的了——,帕克•佩普斯大夫在伦敦西区①的业务——”
“谢谢您,”大夫说道,“完全不错。我是说,看来,我们病人的体质经受了一次冲击,要希望恢复元气就只有作出很大的、有力的——”
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①伦敦西区(Weat-End):伦敦西部地区,其中有很好的公园、花园、宫殿、贵族住宅、议会及政府机构等。
“和劲头十足的,”家庭医生低声说道。
“完全不错,”大夫同意道,“和劲头十足的努力才行。皮尔金斯先生担任这个家庭的医疗顾问——,毫无疑问,没有什么人能比他更有资格担任这个职务的了。”
“啊!”家庭医生低声说道,“这是休伯特•斯坦利爵士的夸奖呢①!”
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①指诚实的夸奖。休伯特•斯坦利爵士(SirHubertStanley)是18世纪英国戏剧作家托马斯•莫顿(ThomasMorton,1764—1838年)的喜剧《伤心的治疗》(ACurefortheHeartAche)中的一个人物。
“您这么说真太客气了,”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道,“皮尔金斯先生由于担任这个职务,对病人正常状态下的体质是最为了解的(这种了解对我们在这种情况下作出诊断是十分宝贵的);他和我一致的意见是,在目前的情况下,需要求助于生命力来作出劲头十足的努力;如果我们这位有趣的朋友董贝伯爵夫人——请原谅,董贝夫人真的不——”
“能,”家庭医生说道。
“成功地作出那样的努力的话,”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道,“那么就会出现危急的局面,那是我们两人都会衷心悲痛的。”
说完之后,他们站在那里向地上看了几秒钟。然后,帕克•佩普斯大夫默不作声地做了个手势之后,他们上了楼;家庭医生巴巴结结、毕恭毕敬地为那位杰出的专家开了房门,然后跟随在他后面。
如果说董贝先生听到这个消息并不感到忧伤的话,那对他是不公道的。可以恰当地说,他不是那种会惊慌失措或感情激动的人;但他内心总是有感觉的;如果他的妻子生了病、倒下去了的话,那么他是会感到很不愉快的;他会觉得从他的盘子、家具和其他家庭用品中间不见了一个什么东西,而这东西是很值得有的,丢弃它不能不使他感到由衷的惋惜;然而这无疑是冷淡的、照例行事的、绅士式的沉着克制的惋惜。
不久,首先是楼梯上窸窸窣窣的衣服声,然后是一位夫人突然急急忙忙地走进了房间,把他在这个问题上的沉思打断了。这位夫人已经过了中年,但却穿着得十分年轻,特别是胸衣绷得紧紧的,更显得这样;她的面容和姿态中露出一副紧张的神气,说明她正抑制着内心十分激动的情绪;她跑到他跟前,急忙伸出胳膊,搂住他的脖子,透不过气来地发出声音,说道:
“我亲爱的保罗!他真正是我们董贝家里的人哪!”
“唔,唔!”她的哥哥回答道,——因为董贝先生是她的哥哥——“我觉得他•确•实•是像我们家里的人。你别太激动了,路易莎。”
“我是很傻,”路易莎坐下,掏出一块手绢,说道,“不过,不过,他是这么完完全全地是我们董贝家里的人呵!我这一辈子还从没有见到过像这样的事!”
“可是范妮本人呢?”董贝先生问道,“范妮怎么样了?”
“我亲爱的保罗,”路易莎回答道,“什么问题也没有。请相信我的话,什么问题也没有。当然,她筋疲力竭了,不过根本不能跟我生乔治或弗雷德里克的时候相比。必须作出努力。那样就行,没有别的了。如果亲爱的范妮像我们董贝家里的人的话!——不过我想她将会作出努力的;我毫不怀疑,她将会作出努力的。她知道,我们要求她尽这个责任,因此她当然是会作出努力的。我亲爱的保罗,我从头到脚都在哆嗦、摇晃,我知道,我这样是很软弱很傻气的,可是我头昏眼花得厉害,因此我得求你给我一杯酒和一小块饼才行。当我下楼来看到亲爱的范妮和那个小东西的时候,我想我一定要从楼梯的窗口摔到外面去了。”她最后讲到小东西那几个字时,仿佛是回忆起那个小婴孩就在眼前而说出来的。
在这之后,听到了轻轻的敲门声。
“奇克夫人,”门外一个很温柔的女性的声音说道,“您好吗,我亲爱的朋友?”
“我亲爱的保罗,”路易莎从坐位上站起来,低声说道,“这是托克斯小姐。她是一位善良的人儿!没有她我怎么也到不了这里!托克斯小姐,这是我的哥哥董贝先生。保罗,我亲爱的,这是我最要好的朋友托克斯小姐。”
被这样作了特别介绍的女士是一位身材细长、消瘦的人,姿容衰败,仿佛她当初不是用亚麻布商人所说的“经久不褪色”的染料染成,而是被逐渐洗去了颜色似的。要不是这一点,她真可以称得上是殷勤与礼貌的鲜丽化身了。她长期以来养成一个习惯,就是对当面对她所说的一切,她都令人钦佩地热心听着,而且看着说话的人,仿佛她心里正在把他的形象刻印在她的心灵上,直到生命停止之前永远也不与它分离似的;由于这样一种习惯,她的头这时已经歪向一边。她的手得了一种痉挛性的习惯,仿佛出于情不自禁的钦佩而会自动地举起来。她的眼睛也容易受到类似的影响。她的声音是最温柔悦耳的;她的鼻子是个很大的鹰钩鼻,在鼻梁的正中间长着一个小小的肉瘤,鼻子从这里往脸上伸下去,仿佛它已下定了不可动摇的决心,不论在什么情况下也决不再翘起来似的。
托克斯小姐的衣服虽然完全合乎上流社会的风格,质料也是好的,但却有些难看和单薄。她习惯在有带的软帽上和便帽上装饰一些奇怪的、枯萎了的小花。在她的头发中间有时还可以看到一些奇怪的草。那些富于好奇心的人注意到,她的衣领、褶边、围巾、袖口以及其他轻而薄的物品——实际上她所穿的凡是两端可以连接起来的一切东西——,这两端的关系从来都不和好,它们一相遇决不会没有一番搏斗的。她在冬天穿着毛皮的物品——如斗篷、围巾、手筒——,那些毛全都暴怒似地根根竖立,一点也不光滑柔软。她十分喜欢携带有按扣的小袋子,当把袋子合上的时候,按扣就像小手熗一样劈啪直响。当她穿礼服的时候,她在脖子上挂了一个极为质朴的小金盒,它的形状是一只没有光泽、看不出有任何神情的老眼睛。这些以及其他类似的一些现象使得一种看法流传开来:托克斯小姐是一位所谓资产有限的女士,她把这点资产充分利用了。她用小步走路的步态可能更促使人们相信这一点,并且使人觉得,她把普通跨度的一步分成两步或三步,就起因于她有充分利用一切事物的习惯。
“这是真的,”托克斯小姐行了一个不同寻常的屈膝礼,说道,“有幸被介绍给董贝先生认识,这是我久已盼望得到的光荣,可是我千万没有料想到就在现在。我亲爱的奇克夫人——
我是否可以称您为路易莎?”
奇克夫人把托克斯小姐的手握在她的手里,把酒杯的底座放在她的手上,并忍住一滴眼泪,低声说道,“上帝保佑您!”
“我亲爱的路易莎,”托克斯小姐说道,“我可爱的朋友,您现在觉得怎么样了?”
“好些了,”奇克夫人回答道,“喝点酒吧。您一直几乎跟我一样焦急不安,毫无疑问,一定需要喝点酒了。”
董贝先生自然尽了东道主的情谊。
“保罗,”奇克夫人仍旧握着她的手,继续说道,“托克斯小姐知道我一直万分关怀地期待着今天这件事情,她就忙着给范妮做了一个小礼物,我答应把它送给她。这只不过是一个可以摆在梳妆台上的针插,保罗,但是我说,我将要说,我必须说,托克斯小姐所表达的感情十分美妙地适合当前的情况。‘欢迎小董贝’,我说,这是一首诗!”
“这是针插上的题词吗?”她的哥哥问道。
“这是针插上的题词,”路易莎回答道。
“不过,您得记住下面的情形,这对我才是公道的,我亲爱的路易莎,”托克斯小姐用低沉的、恳切的、请求的声调说道,“只是由于——我表达我的思想有些困难——只是由于最后是男是女当时不能肯定,这才使我很冒昧地采用了这样的题词。‘欢迎您,董贝少爷!’这才更确切地符合我的感情,我相信您是知道的。不过,我希望,这天使般新来的客人的不确定性,能成为原谅我的理由,否则那就会显得是不谅解我的冒昧了。”托克斯小姐说时向董贝先生优雅地鞠了一个躬,董贝先生和蔼亲切地还了礼。甚至在上面谈话中对董贝父子公司所表示的敬意也很投合他的心意,因此虽然他爱把他的妹妹奇克夫人看作是个软弱的、性格善良的人,但她对他的影响也许比任何人都更大。
“好啦,”奇克夫人亲切地微笑了一下,说道,“在这之后,我对范妮一切都宽恕了!”
这是按照基督精神所作的一项声明,奇克夫人说了以后觉得心情轻松了。并不是她有什么具体的事情需要宽恕她的嫂子,确实也没有任何事情需要她宽恕的,只有一个例外,就是她嫁给了她的哥哥——这件事情本身是大胆无礼的——,而且随着时间的推移,又生了一个女孩子,而不是男孩子;奇克夫人常常提起这件事,说这完全不符合她的期望,也不是她这位嫂子对她所受到的一切厚待与光荣所应作出的令人愉快的报答。
董贝先生这时被急忙请求离开,房间里只剩下两位女士在一起。托克斯小姐立刻痉挛起来。
“我早知道您会仰慕我哥哥的。我以前跟您说过,我亲爱的,”路易莎说道。
托克斯小姐的手和眼睛表示出她是多么仰慕。
“至于他的财产,我亲爱的!”
“啊!”托克斯小姐怀着深切的感情说道。
“大得——不得了!”
“啊,他的品行,我亲爱的路易莎!”托克斯小姐说道,“他的仪表!他的尊严!我这一生中所见到过的肖像没有一个能完全具备这些优美的品质,一半也没有。多么庄严,您知道,多么坚决,胸膛是多么宽阔,身躯是多么挺直!他是一位财力雄厚的约克郡①公爵,我亲爱的,不比约克郡公爵欠缺什么!”托克斯小姐说道。“我要这样称呼他。”
--------
①约克郡(Yorkshire):英格兰北部的一个郡。
“你怎么了,我亲爱的保罗!”他妹妹看到他回来的时候,高声喊道,“你的脸色这么苍白!没出什么事吧?”
“我很遗憾地告诉你,路易莎,他们告诉我,范妮——”
“啊,我亲爱的保罗!”他的妹妹站起来,说道,“别相信它!如果你觉得我的经验可靠的话,那么,保罗,你尽可以放心,只要范妮作出努力就行;”她有条有理地脱下软帽,整整便帽和手套,继续说道,“应该鼓励她作出那个努力;真的,如果必要的话,那就应该强迫她作出那个努力。我亲爱的保罗,现在请跟我一起上楼去。”
董贝先生除了由于前面所说的理由一般受他的妹妹的影响外,还把她当作一位有经验的和能干的主妇,真正相信她,所以默默地同意,立刻跟着她到病人的房间里去。
他的夫人就像他离开她时那样躺在床上,把她的小女儿紧紧地抱在怀中。这个女孩子怀着跟先前一样强烈的感情,紧紧地抱着她,从不抬起头,或把脸颊从她妈妈的脸上移开,或看看站在周围的人们,或说句话,或移动身子,或掉一滴眼泪。
“没有小女孩在身边她就烦躁不安,”大夫对董贝先生低声说道,“因此我们觉得最好还是让她重新进来。”
病床周围一片深沉的寂静;两位医生似乎十分同情而又很少希望地看着这个失去知觉的人,因此奇克夫人一时忘掉了她到这里来的目的,可是她立刻鼓起勇气,并像她所说的,镇静下来,在床边坐下,并用一个竭力想要唤醒一位睡眠者的人的那种同样低微的声调,喊道:
“范妮!范妮!”
没有回答的声音,而只有董贝先生的表和帕克•佩普斯大夫的表的滴嗒滴嗒走得很响的声音。这两只表似乎正在寂静中赛跑。
“范妮,我亲爱的,”奇克夫人假装出轻松愉快的语气,说道,“董贝先生到这里来看您了。您是不是要跟他讲话?他们想把您的小男孩放到床上——范妮,您知道,就是那个小娃娃,我想您还没有看到过他吧!不过,他们不能放,除非您把精神稍稍振作起来一些才行。您是不是认为,这该是您把精神振作起来一些的时候了?嗯?”
她把耳朵凑近床上听着,一边向四周站着的人环视着,并举起一个指头。
“嗯?”她重复说道,“您说什么,范妮?我听不见。”
没有一个字,也没有一个声音回答。董贝先生的表与帕克•佩普斯大夫的表似乎跑得更快了。
“啊,真的,我亲爱的范妮,”她的小姑子说道;她改变了姿势,不由自主地说得不很有信心,但却更认真了,“如果您不振作起精神的话,那么我就不得不跟您生气了。您有必要作出努力,也许是您不愿作出的很大的、很痛苦的努力;可是您知道,这是个需要作出努力的世界呀,范妮;当这么多的事情取决于我们的时候,我们应该永不退让。来吧,试一试吧!如果您不试的话,那么我真的一定要骂您了!”
在随即而来的沉寂中,两只表的赛跑是猛烈的、狂暴的。
它们似乎在相互推撞,相互绊倒对方。
“范妮!”路易莎怀着愈益增长的恐怖,环视四周,说道,“只要看我一下就行。只要张开您的眼睛表示一下您听到了我的话,明白了我的话就行,好不好?我的天呀,先生们,现在该怎么办呢!”
两位医生隔着床交换了一下眼光。家庭医生弯下身子,在女孩子的耳旁轻声地说了一些什么。小女孩子没有听懂他耳语的意思,向他转过她的毫无血色的面孔和凹陷的、乌黑的眼睛,但丝毫没有放松她的拥抱。
家庭医生又把他的耳语重复了一次。
“妈妈!”女孩子说道。
这熟悉的、受到热烈喜爱的孩子的声音把甚至是那么奄奄一息的知觉也唤醒过来,稍稍地显示了一下。片刻间,闭合的眼睑颤动了一下,鼻孔翕动了一下,还可以看到那极为微弱的笑影。
“妈妈!”女孩子大声地抽泣着,喊道。“啊,亲爱的妈妈!
啊,亲爱的妈妈!”
大夫轻轻地把女孩子散乱的长卷发从母亲的脸上和嘴上拂开。啊,它们是多么安静地躺在那里,呼吸是多么微弱,它不能把它们吹动了!
就这样,母亲用她的胳膊紧紧地抱住那根不结实的圆材,在环绕全世界的黑暗的、未知的海洋上漂流出去了。
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
举报 只看该作者 板凳   发表于: 2013-11-02 0

Chapter 2
In which Timely Provision is made for an Emergency that will sometimes arise in the best-regulated Families
'I shall never cease to congratulate myself,' said Mrs Chick,' on having said, when I little thought what was in store for us, - really as if I was inspired by something, - that I forgave poor dear Fanny everything. Whatever happens, that must always be a comfort to me!'
Mrs Chick made this impressive observation in the drawing-room, after having descended thither from the inspection of the mantua-makers upstairs, who were busy on the family mourning. She delivered it for the behoof of Mr Chick, who was a stout bald gentleman, with a very large face, and his hands continually in his pockets, and who had a tendency in his nature to whistle and hum tunes, which, sensible of the indecorum of such sounds in a house of grief, he was at some pains to repress at present.
'Don't you over-exert yourself, Loo,' said Mr Chick, 'or you'll be laid up with spasms, I see. Right tol loor rul! Bless my soul, I forgot! We're here one day and gone the next!'
Mrs Chick contented herself with a glance of reproof, and then proceeded with the thread of her discourse.
'I am sure,' she said, 'I hope this heart-rending occurrence will be a warning to all of us, to accustom ourselves to rouse ourselves, and to make efforts in time where they're required of us. There's a moral in everything, if we would only avail ourselves of it. It will be our own faults if we lose sight of this one.'
Mr Chick invaded the grave silence which ensued on this remark with the singularly inappropriate air of 'A cobbler there was;' and checking himself, in some confusion, observed, that it was undoubtedly our own faults if we didn't improve such melancholy occasions as the present.
'Which might be better improved, I should think, Mr C.,' retorted his helpmate, after a short pause, 'than by the introduction, either of the college hornpipe, or the equally unmeaning and unfeeling remark of rump-te-iddity, bow-wow-wow!' - which Mr Chick had indeed indulged in, under his breath, and which Mrs Chick repeated in a tone of withering scorn.
'Merely habit, my dear,' pleaded Mr Chick.
'Nonsense! Habit!' returned his wife. 'If you're a rational being, don't make such ridiculous excuses. Habit! If I was to get a habit (as you call it) of walking on the ceiling, like the flies, I should hear enough of it, I daresay.
It appeared so probable that such a habit might be attended with some degree of notoriety, that Mr Chick didn't venture to dispute the position.
'Bow-wow-wow!' repeated Mrs Chick with an emphasis of blighting contempt on the last syllable. 'More like a professional singer with the hydrophobia, than a man in your station of life!'
'How's the Baby, Loo?' asked Mr Chick: to change the subject.
'What Baby do you mean?' answered Mrs Chick.
'The poor bereaved little baby,' said Mr Chick. 'I don't know of any other, my dear.'
'You don't know of any other,'retorted Mrs Chick. 'More shame for you, I was going to say.
Mr Chick looked astonished.
'I am sure the morning I have had, with that dining-room downstairs, one mass of babies, no one in their senses would believe.'
'One mass of babies!' repeated Mr Chick, staring with an alarmed expression about him.
'It would have occurred to most men,' said Mrs Chick, 'that poor dear Fanny being no more, - those words of mine will always be a balm and comfort to me,' here she dried her eyes; 'it becomes necessary to provide a Nurse.'
'Oh! Ah!' said Mr Chick. 'Toor-ru! - such is life, I mean. I hope you are suited, my dear.'
'Indeed I am not,' said Mrs Chick; 'nor likely to be, so far as I can see, and in the meantime the poor child seems likely to be starved to death. Paul is so very particular - naturally so, of course, having set his whole heart on this one boy - and there are so many objections to everybody that offers, that I don't see, myself, the least chance of an arrangement. Meanwhile, of course, the child is - '
'Going to the Devil,' said Mr Chick, thoughtfully, 'to be sure.'
Admonished, however, that he had committed himself, by the indignation expressed in Mrs Chick's countenance at the idea of a Dombey going there; and thinking to atone for his misconduct by a bright suggestion, he added:
'Couldn't something temporary be done with a teapot?'
If he had meant to bring the subject prematurely to a close, he could not have done it more effectually. After looking at him for some moments in silent resignation, Mrs Chick said she trusted he hadn't said it in aggravation, because that would do very little honour to his heart. She trusted he hadn't said it seriously, because that would do very little honour to his head. As in any case, he couldn't, however sanguine his disposition, hope to offer a remark that would be a greater outrage on human nature in general, we would beg to leave the discussion at that point.
Mrs Chick then walked majestically to the window and peeped through the blind, attracted by the sound of wheels. Mr Chick, finding that his destiny was, for the time, against him, said no more, and walked off. But it was not always thus with Mr Chick. He was often in the ascendant himself, and at those times punished Louisa roundly. In their matrimonial bickerings they were, upon the whole, a well-matched, fairly-balanced, give-and-take couple. It would have been, generally speaking, very difficult to have betted on the winner. Often when Mr Chick seemed beaten, he would suddenly make a start, turn the tables, clatter them about the ears of Mrs Chick, and carry all before him. Being liable himself to similar unlooked for checks from Mrs Chick, their little contests usually possessed a character of uncertainty that was very animating.
Miss Tox had arrived on the wheels just now alluded to, and came running into the room in a breathless condition. 'My dear Louisa,'said Miss Tox, 'is the vacancy still unsupplied?'
'You good soul, yes,' said Mrs Chick.
'Then, my dear Louisa,' returned Miss Tox, 'I hope and believe - but in one moment, my dear, I'll introduce the party.'
Running downstairs again as fast as she had run up, Miss Tox got the party out of the hackney-coach, and soon returned with it under convoy.
It then appeared that she had used the word, not in its legal or business acceptation, when it merely expresses an individual, but as a noun of multitude, or signifying many: for Miss Tox escorted a plump rosy-cheeked wholesome apple-faced young woman, with an infant in her arms; a younger woman not so plump, but apple-faced also, who led a plump and apple-faced child in each hand; another plump and also apple-faced boy who walked by himself; and finally, a plump and apple-faced man, who carried in his arms another plump and apple-faced boy, whom he stood down on the floor, and admonished, in a husky whisper, to 'kitch hold of his brother Johnny.'
'My dear Louisa,' said Miss Tox, 'knowing your great anxiety, and wishing to relieve it, I posted off myself to the Queen Charlotte's Royal Married Females,' which you had forgot, and put the question, Was there anybody there that they thought would suit? No, they said there was not. When they gave me that answer, I do assure you, my dear, I was almost driven to despair on your account. But it did so happen, that one of the Royal Married Females, hearing the inquiry, reminded the matron of another who had gone to her own home, and who, she said, would in all likelihood be most satisfactory. The moment I heard this, and had it corroborated by the matron - excellent references and unimpeachable character - I got the address, my dear, and posted off again.'
'Like the dear good Tox, you are!' said Louisa.
'Not at all,' returned Miss Tox. 'Don't say so. Arriving at the house (the cleanest place, my dear! You might eat your dinner off the floor), I found the whole family sitting at table; and feeling that no account of them could be half so comfortable to you and Mr Dombey as the sight of them all together, I brought them all away. This gentleman,' said Miss Tox, pointing out the apple-faced man, 'is the father. Will you have the goodness to come a little forward, Sir?'
The apple-faced man having sheepishly complied with this request, stood chuckling and grinning in a front row.
'This is his wife, of course,' said Miss Tox, singling out the young woman with the baby. 'How do you do, Polly?'
'I'm pretty well, I thank you, Ma'am,' said Polly.
By way of bringing her out dexterously, Miss Tox had made the inquiry as in condescension to an old acquaintance whom she hadn't seen for a fortnight or so.
'I'm glad to hear it,' said Miss Tox. 'The other young woman is her unmarried sister who lives with them, and would take care of her children. Her name's Jemima. How do you do, Jemima?'
'I'm pretty well, I thank you, Ma'am,' returned Jemima.
'I'm very glad indeed to hear it,' said Miss Tox. 'I hope you'll keep so. Five children. Youngest six weeks. The fine little boy with the blister on his nose is the eldest The blister, I believe,' said Miss Tox, looking round upon the family, 'is not constitutional, but accidental?'
The apple-faced man was understood to growl, 'Flat iron.
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Miss Tox, 'did you?
'Flat iron,' he repeated.
'Oh yes,' said Miss Tox. 'Yes! quite true. I forgot. The little creature, in his mother's absence, smelt a warm flat iron. You're quite right, Sir. You were going to have the goodness to inform me, when we arrived at the door that you were by trade a - '
'Stoker,' said the man.
'A choker!' said Miss Tox, quite aghast.
'Stoker,' said the man. 'Steam ingine.'
'Oh-h! Yes!' returned Miss Tox, looking thoughtfully at him, and seeming still to have but a very imperfect understanding of his meaning.
'And how do you like it, Sir?'
'Which, Mum?' said the man.
'That,' replied Miss Tox. 'Your trade.'
'Oh! Pretty well, Mum. The ashes sometimes gets in here;' touching his chest: 'and makes a man speak gruff, as at the present time. But it is ashes, Mum, not crustiness.'
Miss Tox seemed to be so little enlightened by this reply, as to find a difficulty in pursuing the subject. But Mrs Chick relieved her, by entering into a close private examination of Polly, her children, her marriage certificate, testimonials, and so forth. Polly coming out unscathed from this ordeal, Mrs Chick withdrew with her report to her brother's room, and as an emphatic comment on it, and corroboration of it, carried the two rosiest little Toodles with her. Toodle being the family name of the apple-faced family.
Mr Dombey had remained in his own apartment since the death of his wife, absorbed in visions of the youth, education, and destination of his baby son. Something lay at the bottom of his cool heart, colder and heavier than its ordinary load; but it was more a sense of the child's loss than his own, awakening within him an almost angry sorrow. That the life and progress on which he built such hopes, should be endangered in the outset by so mean a want; that Dombey and Son should be tottering for a nurse, was a sore humiliation. And yet in his pride and jealousy, he viewed with so much bitterness the thought of being dependent for the very first step towards the accomplishment of his soul's desire, on a hired serving-woman who would be to the child, for the time, all that even his alliance could have made his own wife, that in every new rejection of a candidate he felt a secret pleasure. The time had now come, however, when he could no longer be divided between these two sets of feelings. The less so, as there seemed to be no flaw in the title of Polly Toodle after his sister had set it forth, with many commendations on the indefatigable friendship of Miss Tox.
'These children look healthy,' said Mr Dombey. 'But my God, to think of their some day claiming a sort of relationship to Paul!'
' But what relationship is there!' Louisa began -
'Is there!' echoed Mr Dombey, who had not intended his sister to participate in the thought he had unconsciously expressed. 'Is there, did you say, Louisa!'
'Can there be, I mean - '
'Why none,' said Mr Dombey, sternly. 'The whole world knows that, I presume. Grief has not made me idiotic, Louisa. Take them away, Louisa! Let me see this woman and her husband.'
Mrs Chick bore off the tender pair of Toodles, and presently returned with that tougher couple whose presence her brother had commanded.
'My good woman,' said Mr Dombey, turning round in his easy chair, as one piece, and not as a man with limbs and joints, 'I understand you are poor, and wish to earn money by nursing the little boy, my son, who has been so prematurely deprived of what can never be replaced. I have no objection to your adding to the comforts of your family by that means. So far as I can tell, you seem to be a deserving object. But I must impose one or two conditions on you, before you enter my house in that capacity. While you are here, I must stipulate that you are always known as - say as Richards - an ordinary name, and convenient. Have you any objection to be known as Richards? You had better consult your husband.'
'Well?' said Mr Dombey, after a pretty long pause. 'What does your husband say to your being called Richards?'
As the husband did nothing but chuckle and grin, and continually draw his right hand across his mouth, moistening the palm, Mrs Toodle, after nudging him twice or thrice in vain, dropped a curtsey and replied 'that perhaps if she was to be called out of her name, it would be considered in the wages.'
'Oh, of course,' said Mr Dombey. 'I desire to make it a question of wages, altogether. Now, Richards, if you nurse my bereaved child, I wish you to remember this always. You will receive a liberal stipend in return for the discharge of certain duties, in the performance of which, I wish you to see as little of your family as possible. When those duties cease to be required and rendered, and the stipend ceases to be paid, there is an end of all relations between us. Do you understand me?'
Mrs Toodle seemed doubtful about it; and as to Toodle himself, he had evidently no doubt whatever, that he was all abroad.
'You have children of your own,' said Mr Dombey. 'It is not at all in this bargain that you need become attached to my child, or that my child need become attached to you. I don't expect or desire anything of the kind. Quite the reverse. When you go away from here, you will have concluded what is a mere matter of bargain and sale, hiring and letting: and will stay away. The child will cease to remember you; and you will cease, if you please, to remember the child.'
Mrs Toodle, with a little more colour in her cheeks than she had had before, said 'she hoped she knew her place.'
'I hope you do, Richards,' said Mr Dombey. 'I have no doubt you know it very well. Indeed it is so plain and obvious that it could hardly be otherwise. Louisa, my dear, arrange with Richards about money, and let her have it when and how she pleases. Mr what's-your name, a word with you, if you please!'
Thus arrested on the threshold as he was following his wife out of the room, Toodle returned and confronted Mr Dombey alone. He was a strong, loose, round-shouldered, shuffling, shaggy fellow, on whom his clothes sat negligently: with a good deal of hair and whisker, deepened in its natural tint, perhaps by smoke and coal-dust: hard knotty hands: and a square forehead, as coarse in grain as the bark of an oak. A thorough contrast in all respects, to Mr Dombey, who was one of those close-shaved close-cut moneyed gentlemen who are glossy and crisp like new bank-notes, and who seem to be artificially braced and tightened as by the stimulating action of golden showerbaths.
'You have a son, I believe?' said Mr Dombey.
'Four on 'em, Sir. Four hims and a her. All alive!'
'Why, it's as much as you can afford to keep them!' said Mr Dombey.
'I couldn't hardly afford but one thing in the world less, Sir.'
'What is that?'
'To lose 'em, Sir.'
'Can you read?' asked Mr Dombey.
'Why, not partick'ler, Sir.'
'Write?'
'With chalk, Sir?'
'With anything?'
'I could make shift to chalk a little bit, I think, if I was put to it,' said Toodle after some reflection.
'And yet,' said Mr Dombey, 'you are two or three and thirty, I suppose?'
'Thereabouts, I suppose, Sir,' answered Toodle, after more reflection
'Then why don't you learn?' asked Mr Dombey.
'So I'm a going to, Sir. One of my little boys is a going to learn me, when he's old enough, and been to school himself.'
'Well,' said Mr Dombey, after looking at him attentively, and with no great favour, as he stood gazing round the room (principally round the ceiling) and still drawing his hand across and across his mouth. 'You heard what I said to your wife just now?'
'Polly heerd it,' said Toodle, jerking his hat over his shoulder in the direction of the door, with an air of perfect confidence in his better half. 'It's all right.'
'But I ask you if you heard it. You did, I suppose, and understood it?' pursued Mr Dombey.
'I heerd it,' said Toodle, 'but I don't know as I understood it rightly Sir, 'account of being no scholar, and the words being - ask your pardon - rayther high. But Polly heerd it. It's all right.'
'As you appear to leave everything to her,' said Mr Dombey, frustrated in his intention of impressing his views still more distinctly on the husband, as the stronger character, 'I suppose it is of no use my saying anything to you.'
'Not a bit,' said Toodle. 'Polly heerd it. She's awake, Sir.'
'I won't detain you any longer then,' returned Mr Dombey, disappointed. 'Where have you worked all your life?'
'Mostly underground, Sir, 'till I got married. I come to the level then. I'm a going on one of these here railroads when they comes into full play.'
As he added in one of his hoarse whispers, 'We means to bring up little Biler to that line,' Mr Dombey inquired haughtily who little Biler was.
'The eldest on 'em, Sir,' said Toodle, with a smile. 'It ain't a common name. Sermuchser that when he was took to church the gen'lm'n said, it wam't a chris'en one, and he couldn't give it. But we always calls him Biler just the same. For we don't mean no harm. Not we.
'Do you mean to say, Man,' inquired Mr Dombey; looking at him with marked displeasure, 'that you have called a child after a boiler?'
'No, no, Sir,' returned Toodle, with a tender consideration for his mistake. 'I should hope not! No, Sir. Arter a BILER Sir. The Steamingine was a'most as good as a godfather to him, and so we called him Biler, don't you see!'
As the last straw breaks the laden camel's back, this piece of information crushed the sinking spirits of Mr Dombey. He motioned his child's foster-father to the door, who departed by no means unwillingly: and then turning the key, paced up and down the room in solitary wretchedness.
It would be harsh, and perhaps not altogether true, to say of him that he felt these rubs and gratings against his pride more keenly than he had felt his wife's death: but certainly they impressed that event upon him with new force, and communicated to it added weight and bitterness. It was a rude shock to his sense of property in his child, that these people - the mere dust of the earth, as he thought them - should be necessary to him; and it was natural that in proportion as he felt disturbed by it, he should deplore the occurrence which had made them so. For all his starched, impenetrable dignity and composure, he wiped blinding tears from his eyes as he paced up and down his room; and often said, with an emotion of which he would not, for the world, have had a witness, 'Poor little fellow!'
It may have been characteristic of Mr Dombey's pride, that he pitied himself through the child. Not poor me. Not poor widower, confiding by constraint in the wife of an ignorant Hind who has been working 'mostly underground' all his life, and yet at whose door Death had never knocked, and at whose poor table four sons daily sit - but poor little fellow!
Those words being on his lips, it occurred to him - and it is an instance of the strong attraction with which his hopes and fears and all his thoughts were tending to one centre - that a great temptation was being placed in this woman's way. Her infant was a boy too. Now, would it be possIble for her to change them?
Though he was soon satisfied that he had dismissed the idea as romantic and unlikely - though possible, there was no denying - he could not help pursuing it so far as to entertain within himself a picture of what his condition would be, if he should discover such an imposture when he was grown old. Whether a man so situated would be able to pluck away the result of so many years of usage, confidence, and belief, from the impostor, and endow a stranger with it?
But it was idle speculating thus. It couldn't happen. In a moment afterwards he determined that it could, but that such women were constantly observed, and had no opportunity given them for the accomplishment of such a design, even when they were so wicked as to entertain it. In another moment, he was remembering how few such cases seemed to have ever happened. In another moment he was wondering whether they ever happened and were not found out.
As his unusual emotion subsided, these misgivings gradually melted away, though so much of their shadow remained behind, that he was constant in his resolution to look closely after Richards himself, without appearing to do so. Being now in an easier frame of mind, he regarded the woman's station as rather an advantageous circumstance than otherwise, by placing, in itself, a broad distance between her and the child, and rendering their separation easy and natural. Thence he passed to the contemplation of the future glories of Dombey and Son, and dismissed the memory of his wife, for the time being, with a tributary sigh or two.
Meanwhile terms were ratified and agreed upon between Mrs Chick and Richards, with the assistance of Miss Tox; and Richards being with much ceremony invested with the Dombey baby, as if it were an Order, resigned her own, with many tears and kisses, to Jemima. Glasses of wine were then produced, to sustain the drooping spirits of the family; and Miss Tox, busying herself in dispensing 'tastes' to the younger branches, bred them up to their father's business with such surprising expedition, that she made chokers of four of them in a quarter of a minute.
'You'll take a glass yourself, Sir, won't you?' said Miss Tox, as Toodle appeared.
'Thankee, Mum,' said Toodle, 'since you are suppressing.'
'And you're very glad to leave your dear good wife in such a comfortable home, ain't you, Sir?'said Miss Tox, nodding and winking at him stealthily.
'No, Mum,' said Toodle. 'Here's wishing of her back agin.'
Polly cried more than ever at this. So Mrs Chick, who had her matronly apprehensions that this indulgence in grief might be prejudicial to the little Dombey ('acid, indeed,' she whispered Miss Tox), hastened to the rescue.
'Your little child will thrive charmingly with your sister Jemima, Richards,' said Mrs Chick; 'and you have only to make an effort - this is a world of effort, you know, Richards - to be very happy indeed. You have been already measured for your mourning, haven't you, Richards?'
'Ye - es, Ma'am,' sobbed Polly.
'And it'll fit beautifully. I know,' said Mrs Chick, 'for the same young person has made me many dresses. The very best materials, too!'
'Lor, you'll be so smart,' said Miss Tox, 'that your husband won't know you; will you, Sir?'
'I should know her,' said Toodle, gruffly, 'anyhows and anywheres.'
Toodle was evidently not to be bought over.
'As to living, Richards, you know,' pursued Mrs Chick, 'why, the very best of everything will be at your disposal. You will order your little dinner every day; and anything you take a fancy to, I'm sure will be as readily provided as if you were a Lady.'
'Yes to be sure!' said Miss Tox, keeping up the ball with great sympathy. 'And as to porter! - quite unlimited, will it not, Louisa?'
'Oh, certainly!' returned Mrs Chick in the same tone. 'With a little abstinence, you know, my dear, in point of vegetables.'
'And pickles, perhaps,' suggested Miss Tox.
'With such exceptions,' said Louisa, 'she'll consult her choice entirely, and be under no restraint at all, my love.'
'And then, of course, you know,' said Miss Tox, 'however fond she is of her own dear little child - and I'm sure, Louisa, you don't blame her for being fond of it?'
'Oh no!' cried Mrs Chick, benignantly.
'Still,' resumed Miss Tox, 'she naturally must be interested in her young charge, and must consider it a privilege to see a little cherub connected with the superior classes, gradually unfolding itself from day to day at one common fountain- is it not so, Louisa?'
'Most undoubtedly!' said Mrs Chick. 'You see, my love, she's already quite contented and comfortable, and means to say goodbye to her sister Jemima and her little pets, and her good honest husband, with a light heart and a smile; don't she, my dear?'
'Oh yes!' cried Miss Tox. 'To be sure she does!'
Notwithstanding which, however, poor Polly embraced them all round in great distress, and coming to her spouse at last, could not make up her mind to part from him, until he gently disengaged himself, at the close of the following allegorical piece of consolation:
'Polly, old 'ooman, whatever you do, my darling, hold up your head and fight low. That's the only rule as I know on, that'll carry anyone through life. You always have held up your head and fought low, Polly. Do it now, or Bricks is no longer so. God bless you, Polly! Me and J'mima will do your duty by you; and with relating to your'n, hold up your head and fight low, Polly, and you can't go wrong!'
Fortified by this golden secret, Folly finally ran away to avoid any more particular leave-taking between herself and the children. But the stratagem hardly succeeded as well as it deserved; for the smallest boy but one divining her intent, immediately began swarming upstairs after her - if that word of doubtful etymology be admissible - on his arms and legs; while the eldest (known in the family by the name of Biler, in remembrance of the steam engine) beat a demoniacal tattoo with his boots, expressive of grief; in which he was joined by the rest of the family.
A quantity of oranges and halfpence thrust indiscriminately on each young Toodle, checked the first violence of their regret, and the family were speedily transported to their own home, by means of the hackney-coach kept in waiting for that purpose. The children, under the guardianship of Jemima, blocked up the window, and dropped out oranges and halfpence all the way along. Mr Toodle himself preferred to ride behind among the spikes, as being the mode of conveyance to which he was best accustomed.

在管理得极好的家庭中有时是会发生这种突然事件的
“我说过,”奇克夫人说道,“对可怜的亲爱的范妮我一切都宽恕了,这一点我将永远感到庆幸;那时候我根本没有预料到将会发生什么事情,那时候我确实仿佛是得到了什么灵感似的。不论怎么样,这句话对我来说永远是一个安慰!”
奇克夫人这些令人难忘的话是她在楼上监视女衣裁缝忙着给这个家庭缝制丧服之后,下到客厅里的时候说的。她发表这些意见是为了点拨奇克先生而说给他听的。奇克先生是一位肥壮的、秃顶的先生,脸很大,两只手老插在衣袋里,生性爱吹口哨和哼曲子;他知道,在一个沉浸在悲痛气氛的家庭里发出这种声音是不合礼节的,所以现在正竭力克制着自己。
“别操劳过度了,路,”奇克先生说道,“要不然你就会发生痉挛而卧床不起了!托鲁鲁!托鲁鲁!哎呀,我忘了!我们今天还在这个世界上,明天就可能一命呜呼了!”
奇克夫人责备地看了他一眼,也就罢了,然后接着刚才的话头,继续说下去。
“说实在的,”她说道,“我希望,发生了这件令人伤心的事情,对我们大家来说将是个警告:我们必须习惯于振作起精神,而且当需要的时候,我们就必须及时作出努力。只要我们善于吸取,从每一件事情中都可以吸取教训。如果我们现在看不到这个教训的话,那么这将是我们自己的过错。”
在这番议论发表之后,随之而来的是肃静无声,但奇克先生哼了一个非常不适宜的曲子《有一个补鞋匠》,因此就把它打破了;他有些慌乱地纠正了自己之后说,如果我们不利用这种悲伤的机会来吸取一些教训的话,那么这将无疑是我们自己的过错。
“我想,奇克先生,”他的妻子在短时间的沉默之后,回答道,“如果你不去哼《学院号角》或不去哼‘拉姆特伊迪替,波乌乌’之类同样没有意义、没有感情的曲调的话,那么就可以更好地利用这个机会了。”——奇克先生确实压低了嗓子哼着那些曲调取乐,奇克夫人则用无比轻蔑的声调重复地哼着它们。
“这不过是习惯罢了,我亲爱的,”奇克先生辩护道。
“胡扯!习惯!”他的妻子回答道,“如果你是个有理性的动物,你就别作出这样可笑的辩解。习惯!如果我得了一个像你所说的习惯,像苍蝇一样在天花板上走来走去,那么我想我对这就会听够了。”
看来这个习惯很可能在一定程度上会带来不好的名声,所以奇克先生不敢再进行争辩。
“婴孩怎么样了,路?”奇克先生改变话题,说道。
“你说的是哪个婴孩?”奇克夫人反问道,“说实在的,头脑健全的人谁也不会相信,今天早上我在楼下餐厅里见到了一大群婴孩。”
“一大群婴孩?”奇克先生重复道,一边露出惊慌的神色,张大眼睛,向四周环视着。
“大多数的男子都会想到,”奇克夫人说道,“因为可怜的亲爱的范妮已经不在了,这样就有必要去物色一个奶妈。”
“哦!啊!”奇克先生说道,“托—鲁—我要说,这就是生活。我希望你已物色到一个中意的,我亲爱的。”
“我确实没有物色到一个中意的,”奇克夫人说道,“照我看,也不大可能物色到了。当然,在这期间,这孩子——”
“将见鬼去了,”奇克先生若有所思地说道,“一定的。”
可是奇克夫人一听见他们董贝家里的一个人竟会去到那里去时,脸上露出的愤怒的神色警告他,他已犯了一个大错误。为了补救他的过失,他就提出了一个巧妙的建议,说道:
“难道不能临时用茶壶来喂奶吗?”
如果他有意赶快结束这个话题的话,那么他不可能比这取得更大的成功了。奇克夫人默不作声,无可奈何地看了他一会儿之后,辚辚的车轮声吸引了她的注意,她就威风凛凛地走到窗前,通过百叶窗向外窥视。奇克先生觉得现在命运跟他作对,于是不再说什么,就走出房间去了。不过奇克先生的情况并不总是这样的。他常常占据优势,在这种时候他就严厉地惩罚路易莎。他们在夫妻争吵中总的来说是旗鼓相当,势均力敌,针锋相对的一对。一般说来,很难打赌说,谁一定会赢。时常当奇克先生似乎已被打败了的时候,他会突然发动反攻,扭转局势,在奇克夫人的耳边耀武扬威,终于大获全胜。由于他本人同样也可能遭到奇克夫人的突然袭击,所以他们的小吵小闹通常具有变化不定的特色。这是很富有生气的。
托克斯小姐乘着我们刚刚提到的车子来到,气喘吁吁地跑进房间。
“我亲爱的路易莎,”托克斯小姐说道,“是不是还没有找到奶妈?”
“还没有呢,我的好人儿,”奇克夫人说道。
“那么,我亲爱的路易莎,”托克斯小姐回答道,“我希望,并且相信——不过,等一会儿,我亲爱的,我将把当事人,介绍给您。”
托克斯小姐像跑上楼来一样快地跑下楼去,把当事人从出租马车中扶出,并立刻护送着回到楼上。
原来她并不是按照法律上或商业上的意义来使用当事人这个词(在这种场合,这个词只表示一个人),而是把它作为一个群体名词来使用的,也就是说,它是表示许多人的。因为托克斯小姐护送来的是:一位肥胖的、脸颊红润的、身体健全的、脸长得像苹果一样的年轻女人,手中抱着一个婴孩;一位不那么肥胖,但脸也像苹果一样的年纪较轻的女人,她每只手中牵着一个肥胖的、脸像苹果一样的孩子;另外一位肥胖的、脸也像苹果一样的男孩子,他自己走路;最后,一位肥胖的、脸像苹果一样的男子,他手中抱着另一个肥胖的、脸像苹果一样的男孩子;他把这男孩子放到地上,用干哑的声音低声吩咐道;“抓住约翰尼哥哥。”
“我亲爱的路易莎,”托克斯小姐说道,“我知道您万分焦急,并希望让您放心,所以我就急匆匆地动身到夏洛特皇后的皇家已婚妇女收容所去(您已忘记它了),问她们那里有没有合适的人?他们说,她们那里没有;当她们这样回答我的时候,亲爱的,说真的,我都几乎要为您陷于绝望了。可是碰巧皇家已婚妇女收容所里的一个人听到我提出的问题,就向所长提醒说,有一位现在已经回家的女人十之八九是能满足要求的。我听了这些话,从所长那里又得到证实——她有极好的推荐信,又有无可指责的品格——,于是就立刻查得了地址,我亲爱的,我又急匆匆地出发了。”
“您一向是这样热心、善良,我亲爱的托克斯!”路易莎说道。
“哪里,”托克斯小姐回答道。“别这么说。我到达了她的家(那是极为干净的地方,我亲爱的!您可以在地板上吃饭),发现全家人正坐桌边;我觉得我向您和董贝先生不管怎么说,也远不如让你们亲眼看一看他们全家人更能使你们放心,所以我就把他们全都带来了。这位先生,”托克斯小姐指着那位脸像苹果一样的男子说,“是父亲。劳驾您能往前站一点儿,好吗,先生?”
那位脸像苹果一样的男子羞怯地听从了这个请求,站在第一排,露出牙齿,吃吃地笑着。
“这当然是他的妻子罗,”托克斯小姐指着那位抱婴孩的女人,说道,“您好吗,波利?”
“我很好,谢谢您,夫人,”波利说道。
为了巧妙地介绍她,托克斯小姐发问的时候,就仿佛是对待一位她只有两个星期没见面的老熟人似的。
“听您这么说我感到很高兴,”托克斯小姐说道,“另外那一位姑娘是她还没有出嫁的妹妹,她跟他们住在一起,照看她的孩子。她的名字叫杰迈玛。您好吗,杰迈玛?”
“我很好,谢谢您,夫人,”杰迈玛回答道。
“听您这么说我感到很高兴,”托克斯小姐说道,“我希望您将一直和现在一样。五个孩子。最小的只六个星期。那个可爱的、鼻子上有一个水疱的小男孩是最大的孩子。我想那水疱,”托克斯小姐向全家人看了一眼,说道,“不是由于体质上的原因,而是由于意外事故产生的吧?”
只听见那位脸像苹果一样的男子粗声粗气地说道,“熨斗”。
“对不起,先生,我没听清楚,”托克斯小姐说道,“您是说?——”
“熨斗,”他重复说道。
“啊对了,”托克斯小姐说道,“对了,完全正确。我忘记了。这小家伙当他母亲不在的时候,去闻了一下发烫的熨斗。您说得一点也不错,先生。当我们到达这个房屋门口的时候,承蒙您的好意,您正要告诉我,您的职业是——”
“司炉。”
“杀骡?”托克斯小姐十分吃惊地说道。
“司炉,”那男子说道,“蒸汽机。”
“啊,是的!”托克斯小姐答道,一边若有所思地望着他,似乎还很不完全了解他的意思。
“您喜欢它吗,先生?”
“什么,夫人?”那男子问道。
“就是那,”托克斯小姐回答道,“您的职业。”
“啊,挺喜欢的,夫人。灰有时跑进这里,”他指一指胸膛,“它使人的声音粗哑,就像我现在这样。但这是由于灰,而不是由于脾气粗暴造成的。”
这个回答似乎没有使托克斯小姐听得更明白,因此她觉得难于把这个话题继续谈下去。但是奇克夫人这时帮了她的忙,她对波利、她的孩子们、她的结婚证书、推荐书等等进行了仔细的审查。波利安全无恙地通过了这个严峻的考验之后,奇克夫人就离开客厅,到她哥哥的房间去,向他报告;为了使好的报告有一个生动的注释和有力的证明,她把脸颊最红润的两位小图德尔一道带了去。脸像苹果一样的这一家人姓图德尔。
董贝先生自从妻子逝世以后一直没有走出他自己的房间,而在专心一意地幻想着他的还是婴孩的儿子的青年、教育与今后的前程。有个什么东西压在他的冷淡的心底,比它通常的分量更重,也更冷;但这主要是他感觉到他的儿子遭受了损失,倒不是他感觉到他自己遭受了损失;这种感觉在他心中引起了一种几乎是愤怒的懊丧。他寄托着这样重大希望的一个人的生命与发展竟在一开始的时候就由于缺少这样区区一位小人物而遭到危险;董贝父子公司竟会由于一位奶妈的缘故而摇摇欲坠,这是件令人痛苦的屈辱的事情。他怀着高傲与妒嫉的心情,十分苦恼地想到,完成他所怀抱的理想的第一步竟取决于一位被雇佣的女仆人,这位女仆人对他的孩子来说将暂时成为一切,甚至是他通过结婚,使他自己的妻子所能做到的一切,因此每当一位新的候选人被拒绝的时候,他心里都会暗暗地感到高兴。然而现在,他不能再在这两种不同的感情中徘徊不决的时候来到了,特别是,当他妹妹一边对托克斯小姐的不知疲倦的友谊说了许多称赞的话,报告了波利•图德尔所具备的条件,从这些条件中似乎找不到什么缺点的时候,就更需要他作出决定了。
“这些孩子看去是健康的,”董贝先生说道,“但是想一想他们有朝一日要求来跟保罗攀扯什么亲戚关系吧!把他们领走,路易莎,让我看看这位女人和她的丈夫。”
奇克夫人把这两位皮肤娇嫩的图德尔领走,按照她哥哥的吩咐,很快又把两位皮肤粗糙一些的图德尔领回来。
“您这位善良的女人,”董贝先生说道,他整个身体在安乐椅子中转动着,好像他没有四肢与关节似的,“我知道您家境清寒,希望给这个小男孩,我的儿子喂奶来挣点钱,这孩子过早地被夺去了永远也不能代替的人。我不反对您采用这种方法使您的家庭富裕一些。根据我的判断,您似乎是一位合适的对象。但是在您到我的家里担任这个职务之前,我必须向您提出一两条您必须遵守的条件。当您在我家里的时候,我必须规定大家一直用一个普通的、便于称呼的姓,比方说理查兹来称呼您。您反对大家管您叫理查兹吗?您最好跟您丈夫商量一下。”
由于她的丈夫除了咧开嘴吃吃地笑,并不断地伸出右手捂着嘴,使手掌潮湿一些之外,什么话也没有说,图德尔大嫂用胳膊肘轻轻地推了他两三次也是徒劳无效,因此她就行了个屈膝礼,回答道,如果在这里需要改换个姓来称呼她的话,那么在给她定工资的时候,请把这一点也考虑进去。“当然,”董贝先生说道,“我希望把这完全作为一个工资问题来考虑。现在,理查兹,如果您要给我这个失去母亲的孩子当奶妈的话,那么我希望您永远记住下面的一些话:您在履行了一定的职责之后,将会领到一笔丰厚的报酬;在您担任职务期间,我希望您尽量少去看望您的家庭。当不再需要您履行这些职责,不再向您支付报酬的时候,我们之间的一切关系就都结束了。您明白我的话了吗?”
图德尔大嫂似乎对这有些疑问,至于图德尔本人,他显然没有丝毫疑问,因为他根本莫名其妙。
“您有您自己的孩子,”董贝先生说,“在我们的这个交易中,您根本不需要爱上我的孩子。我的孩子也不需要爱上您。我不希望,也不愿意看见这一类事情。恰恰相反,当您离开这里的时候,您就结束了这纯粹是买与卖、雇佣与辞退的交易关系,然后您就到别的地方去住。孩子就不再记得您。您如果愿意,也可以不再记得孩子。”
图德尔大嫂的脸颊比先前更红了一些,说,她希望她明白自己的身份。
“我希望您明白,理查兹,”董贝先生说道,“我毫不怀疑,您清清楚楚地明白这一点。确实,这是明明白白,显而易见的事情,不可能是相反的情况。路易莎,我亲爱的,请你把有关钱的事情跟理查兹安排一下,让她在她认为合适的时候和按她愿意的方式领去。您这位叫什么的先生,如果您愿意,我想跟您谈一两句话。”
当图德尔跟着他的妻子正要走出房间的时候,他就这样在门口被喊住了。他走回来,单独面对着董贝先生。他是个身强力壮、自由散漫、后背驼曲、行动笨拙、毛发蓬松的人,他的衣服随随便便地搭在身上;头发和连鬓胡子又长又密,也许由于烟与煤粉的关系,比自然的颜色更为浓黑;手上长着厚茧和好多疖疤;方方的前额,上面的纹理就像树皮一样粗糙。他与董贝先生在所有方面都形成了鲜明的对照:董贝先生是位胡子刮得干干净净、头发剪得整整齐齐、钱财富有的上流社会人士,像崭新的钞票一样富有光泽,清脆有声;他似乎经过黄金淋浴这个使人激励精神的行动之后,已经被人为地绷紧和振奋起来了。
“我想您有一个儿子吧?”董贝先生问道。
“有四个,先生。四个小子,一个闺女,全都活着!”
“唔,您把他们全养下来了,总算还经受得起!”董贝先生说道。
“在这世界上我有一件事经受不起,先生。”
“什么事?”
“失去他们,先生。”
“您能念书吗?”董贝先生问道。
“唔,勉勉强强能念一点儿,先生。”
“写字呢?”
“用粉笔吗,先生?”
“不论用什么。”
“我想,如果非要我写不行的话,那么我也能用粉笔对付着写一点儿,”图德尔沉思了一会儿,说道。
“不过,”董贝先生说道,“我想,您今年已有三十二、三岁了吧?”
“我想,大概是这么个岁数,先生,”图德尔比刚才沉思得长久一些之后,说道。
“那么您为什么不学习呢?”董贝先生问道。
“是的,我准备学,先生。我有一个小男孩,等他长大上学以后,他将会教我。”
“唔,”董贝先生聚精会神地对他注视之后说道;他对他没有产生很大的好感,因为他站在那里,眼睛在房间里四处张望(主要是在天花板上溜来溜去),同时依旧不时抽出手来捂着嘴巴哈气。
“我刚才对您妻子说的话,您听到了吗?”
“波利听到了,”图德尔把帽子越过肩膀朝门口的方向猛地一挥,露出对他那口子完全信任的神气。“一切都很好。”
“既然看来您一切都由她作主,”董贝先生原以为丈夫是家庭中更有力的人物,本打算把他的意见对他说得更加明确,以便加深他的印象,但却没有成功,就说道,“我想用不着再对您说什么了。”
“什么也不用说,”图德尔说道,“波利听到了。她没有打盹儿,先生。”
“这么说,我不想再留您了,”董贝先生失望地回答道。
“您过去在哪里工作?”
“过去大部分时间是在地下,先生,直到我结婚以后才到地面上来。这里修建了铁路,通车以后我就在一条铁路上工作。”
就像最后一根稻草把满负重载的骆驼的背压断一样,图德尔曾经在地下工作过的这个信息使董贝先生的情绪再也支撑不下去了。他向他儿子奶妈的丈夫指了指房门,于是图德尔没有一点不愿意的样子,离开了这个房间。然后,董贝先生把钥匙转了一下,锁上了门,独自一人在房间里可怜地踱着步子。虽然他古板和固执地保持着尊严与镇静,可是他还是抹去了使他眼睛变得模糊的泪水,怀着他决不愿意在别人面前显露出来的情绪,不时说道,“可怜的小家伙!”
董贝先生通过他的孩子来可怜自己,这可能是他高傲的特色。不是“可怜的我!”,不是“可怜的鳏夫!”——这个鳏夫迫不得已,只好去信赖一位乡巴佬的妻子,这位乡巴佬毫无知识,过去“大部分时间是在地下”工作,可是死神却从没有去叩过他的门,他的四个孩子们每天都坐在他的贫穷的餐桌旁——,而是“可怜的小家伙!”
当他嘴里正说着这几个字的时候,他心里想到,在这位女人的道路上正摆着一个巨大的诱惑物,她的婴孩也是一个男孩。她是不是可能把他们相互调换一下呢?——这一个例子正好说明:有一个强大的吸引力正把他的希望与恐惧以及他的全部思想都吸引到一个中心。
虽然不久他就认为这是个荒唐古怪、不大可能(当然不可否认,也有可能)的想法,把它打消了,因而心里也安定下来了,可是他却情不自禁地沿着这个思路继续想下去,以至于在心中构思出这样一幅图景:如果当他年老的时候发现了这样一个骗局的话,那么他将会是怎样一种状况呢?在这种情况下,一个人是不是能把由于多年相处所产生的信任与宠爱从这个冒名顶替者的身上除去,然后把它们倾注到一位陌生人的身上呢?
当他这不寻常的情绪平息下来之后,这些顾虑也就逐渐消散了,虽然也留下了好些阴影,因此他决定不让别人看出,由他亲自来密切监视理查兹。当他现在心情比较轻松一些的时候,他认为这女人的社会地位反而是一种有利的情况,因为它本身在她与孩子之间就隔开了一道宽阔的距离,因此他们今后相互疏远将会是容易和自然的。
在同一段时间内,在托克斯小姐的帮助下,奇克夫人与理查兹达成并签订了协议;在隆重的仪式下,婴孩董贝像一枚勋章似地授给了理查兹;她又伴随着许多眼泪与亲吻,把她自己的婴孩交托给杰迈玛。在这之后,端来了一杯杯的酒,用来支撑这家人的低沉的情绪。
“您喝一杯好吗,先生?”当图德尔回来之后,托克斯小姐说道。
“谢谢您,夫人,”图德尔说道,“既然您非要我喝不可。”
“您把您亲爱的善良的妻子留在这么舒适的家庭里,您很高兴吧,先生?”托克斯小姐偷偷地向他点点头,眨巴眨巴眼睛。
“不,夫人,”图德尔说道,“我喝这杯酒,祝她早些重新回到家里来。”
波利听到这话,哭得更厉害了。奇克夫人有她当家庭主妇的忧虑,生怕这样放纵地悲伤会对小董贝不利(“真酸,”
她对托克斯小姐说道),所以急忙进行抢救。
“在您的妹妹杰迈玛的照料下,您的小孩一定会很可爱地茁壮成长的,理查兹,”奇克夫人说道,“只是您必须作出努力,使自己高高兴兴才是;理查兹,您知道,这是个必须作出努力的世界。您已经量过您丧服的尺寸了吧,是不是,理查兹?”
“是—是的,夫人,”波利抽抽嗒嗒地哭着。
“您穿起来一定很漂亮,我知道,”奇克夫人说道,“这位年轻人给我做过许多衣服。这是用最好的布料做的!”
“天主啊,您将会漂漂亮亮,”托克斯小姐说道,“您的丈夫都将会认不出您来了,是不是,先生?”
“我一定认得出她,”图德尔态度生硬地说道,“不论在什么情况下,也不论在什么地方。”
图德尔显然是收买不了的。
“至于您的生活,理查兹,您知道,”奇克夫人继续说道,“所有最好的东西都将供您随便使用。您每天定您自己的饭菜;毫无疑问,您想要什么,什么就会立刻提供到您的面前,仿佛您是一位贵夫人似的。”
“是的,确实是这样!”托克斯小姐怀着极大的同情,接过话头,继续说下去,“至于黑啤酒,那数量是无限的,是不是,路易莎?”
“啊,当然的!”奇克夫人用同样的声调回答道。“您知道,我亲爱的,只是蔬菜的数量稍稍有些节制。”
“也许还有酸菜,”托克斯小姐提示道。
“除了这些例外,”路易莎说道,“她完全可以按照自己的口味来选择食物,丝毫没有限制,我亲爱的。”
“然后,当然,您知道,”托克斯小姐说道,“不论她对自己亲生的小孩子是多么喜爱——毫无疑问,路易莎,您不会责怪她喜爱他吧?”
“啊,不会!”奇克夫人仁慈地喊道。
“可是,”托克斯小姐继续说道,“她自然应该关心现在交给她抚养的年幼的孩子,应该认为,眼看着一个与上流社会密切联系着的小天使一天天地从一个共同的源泉中吸取养料,成长起来,这是一种特殊的荣幸;是不是这样,路易莎?”
“完全不错!”奇克夫人说道,“您看,我亲爱的,她已经很满意、很安心了,现在正怀着轻松的心情,露出微笑,想要跟她的妹妹杰迈玛和她的小宝贝们,还有她的善良的、诚实的丈夫告别呢,是不是,我亲爱的?”
“啊,是的!”托克斯小姐喊道,“当然是的!”
可是尽管这样,可怜的波利还是十分悲痛地和他们一一拥抱;最后,为了避免她和孩子们更加恋恋不舍地告别,她跑开了。可是这个策略没有取得应有的成功;因为第二个最小的孩子看穿了她的意图,立即开始手脚全都着地地跟着她往楼上爬(如果可以使用这个语源有疑义的词的话);最大的孩子(大家在家中都管他叫拜勒①,来纪念蒸汽机)用靴子在地上咚咚地敲出疯狂般的响声来表示悲伤;家中其他的人也一起参加到他的行动中去。
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①拜勒(Biler):为boiler(锅炉)的误读。
许许多多的桔子和半便士不加区别地塞到了每个小图德尔的手中,这抑制了他们头一阵迸发出来的极度悲痛;一辆专门为了这个目的等待着的出租马车很快就把全家人送往他们的家中。一路上,在杰迈玛的守护下,孩子们拥挤在车窗口,把桔子和半便士往外扔。图德尔先生宁肯乘坐在火车后面的道钉中间(这是他极为习惯的运输方式),而不愿意像现在这样乘坐在马车中。
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
举报 只看该作者 地板   发表于: 2013-11-02 0

Chapter 3
In which Mr Dombey, as a Man and a Father, is seen at the Head of the Home-Department
The funeral of the deceased lady having been 'performed to the entire satisfaction of the undertaker, as well as of the neighbourhood at large, which is generally disposed to be captious on such a point, and is prone to take offence at any omissions or short-comings in the ceremonies, the various members of Mr Dombey's household subsided into their several places in the domestic system. That small world, like the great one out of doors, had the capacity of easily forgetting its dead; and when the cook had said she was a quiet-tempered lady, and the house-keeper had said it was the common lot, and the butler had said who'd have thought it, and the housemaid had said she couldn't hardly believe it, and the footman had said it seemed exactly like a dream, they had quite worn the subject out, and began to think their mourning was wearing rusty too.
On Richards, who was established upstairs in a state of honourable captivity, the dawn of her new life seemed to break cold and grey. Mr Dombey's house was a large one, on the shady side of a tall, dark, dreadfully genteel street in the region between Portland Place and Bryanstone Square.' It was a corner house, with great wide areas containing cellars frowned upon by barred windows, and leered at by crooked-eyed doors leading to dustbins. It was a house of dismal state, with a circular back to it, containing a whole suite of drawing-rooms looking upon a gravelled yard, where two gaunt trees, with blackened trunks and branches, rattled rather than rustled, their leaves were so smoked-dried. The summer sun was never on the street, but in the morning about breakfast-time, when it came with the water-carts and the old clothes men, and the people with geraniums, and the umbrella-mender, and the man who trilled the little bell of the Dutch clock as he went along. It was soon gone again to return no more that day; and the bands of music and the straggling Punch's shows going after it, left it a prey to the most dismal of organs, and white mice; with now and then a porcupine, to vary the entertainments; until the butlers whose families were dining out, began to stand at the house-doors in the twilight, and the lamp-lighter made his nightly failure in attempting to brighten up the street with gas.
It was as blank a house inside as outside. When the funeral was over, Mr Dombey ordered the furniture to be covered up - perhaps to preserve it for the son with whom his plans were all associated - and the rooms to be ungarnished, saving such as he retained for himself on the ground floor. Accordingly, mysterious shapes were made of tables and chairs, heaped together in the middle of rooms, and covered over with great winding-sheets. Bell-handles, window-blinds, and looking-glasses, being papered up in journals, daily and weekly, obtruded fragmentary accounts of deaths and dreadful murders. Every chandelier or lustre, muffled in holland, looked like a monstrous tear depending from the ceiling's eye. Odours, as from vaults and damp places, came out of the chimneys. The dead and buried lady was awful in a picture-frame of ghastly bandages. Every gust of wind that rose, brought eddying round the corner from the neighbouring mews, some fragments of the straw that had been strewn before the house when she was ill, mildewed remains of which were still cleaving to the neighbourhood: and these, being always drawn by some invisible attraction to the threshold of the dirty house to let immediately opposite, addressed a dismal eloquence to Mr Dombey's windows.
The apartments which Mr Dombey reserved for his own inhabiting, were attainable from the hall, and consisted of a sitting-room; a library, which was in fact a dressing-room, so that the smell of hot-pressed paper, vellum, morocco, and Russia leather, contended in it with the smell of divers pairs of boots; and a kind of conservatory or little glass breakfast-room beyond, commanding a prospect of the trees before mentioned, and, generally speaking, of a few prowling cats. These three rooms opened upon one another. In the morning, when Mr Dombey was at his breakfast in one or other of the two first-mentioned of them, as well as in the afternoon when he came home to dinner, a bell was rung for Richards to repair to this glass chamber, and there walk to and fro with her young charge. From the glimpses she caught of Mr Dombey at these times, sitting in the dark distance, looking out towards the infant from among the dark heavy furniture - the house had been inhabited for years by his father, and in many of its appointments was old-fashioned and grim - she began to entertain ideas of him in his solitary state, as if he were a lone prisoner in a cell, or a strange apparition that was not to be accosted or understood. Mr Dombey came to be, in the course of a few days, invested in his own person, to her simple thinking, with all the mystery and gloom of his house. As she walked up and down the glass room, or sat hushing the baby there - which she very often did for hours together, when the dusk was closing in, too - she would sometimes try to pierce the gloom beyond, and make out how he was looking and what he was doing. Sensible that she was plainly to be seen by him' however, she never dared to pry in that direction but very furtively and for a moment at a time. Consequently she made out nothing, and Mr Dombey in his den remained a very shade.
Little Paul Dombey's foster-mother had led this life herself, and had carried little Paul through it for some weeks; and had returned upstairs one day from a melancholy saunter through the dreary rooms of state (she never went out without Mrs Chick, who called on fine mornings, usually accompanied by Miss Tox, to take her and Baby for an airing - or in other words, to march them gravely up and down the pavement, like a walking funeral); when, as she was sitting in her own room, the door was slowly and quietly opened, and a dark-eyed little girl looked in.
'It's Miss Florence come home from her aunt's, no doubt,' thought Richards, who had never seen the child before. 'Hope I see you well, Miss.'
'Is that my brother?' asked the child, pointing to the Baby.
'Yes, my pretty,' answered Richards. 'Come and kiss him.'
But the child, instead of advancing, looked her earnestly in the face, and said:
'What have you done with my Mama?'
'Lord bless the little creeter!' cried Richards, 'what a sad question! I done? Nothing, Miss.'
'What have they done with my Mama?' inquired the child, with exactly the same look and manner.
'I never saw such a melting thing in all my life!' said Richards, who naturally substituted 'for this child one of her own, inquiring for herself in like circumstances. 'Come nearer here, my dear Miss! Don't be afraid of me.'
'I am not afraid of you,' said the child, drawing nearer. 'But I want to know what they have done with my Mama.'
Her heart swelled so as she stood before the woman, looking into her eyes, that she was fain to press her little hand upon her breast and hold it there. Yet there was a purpose in the child that prevented both her slender figure and her searching gaze from faltering.
'My darling,' said Richards, 'you wear that pretty black frock in remembrance of your Mama.'
'I can remember my Mama,' returned the child, with tears springing to her eyes, 'in any frock.'
'But people put on black, to remember people when they're gone.'
'Where gone?' asked the child.
'Come and sit down by me,' said Richards, 'and I'll tell you a story.'
With a quick perception that it was intended to relate to what she had asked, little Florence laid aside the bonnet she had held in her hand until now, and sat down on a stool at the Nurse's feet, looking up into her face.
'Once upon a time,' said Richards, 'there was a lady - a very good lady, and her little daughter dearly loved her.'
'A very good lady and her little daughter dearly loved her,' repeated the child.
'Who, when God thought it right that it should be so, was taken ill and died.'
The child shuddered.
'Died, never to be seen again by anyone on earth, and was buried in the ground where the trees grow.
'The cold ground?' said the child, shuddering again. 'No! The warm ground,' returned Polly, seizing her advantage, 'where the ugly little seeds turn into beautiful flowers, and into grass, and corn, and I don't know what all besides. Where good people turn into bright angels, and fly away to Heaven!'
The child, who had dropped her head, raised it again, and sat looking at her intently.
'So; let me see,' said Polly, not a little flurried between this earnest scrutiny, her desire to comfort the child, her sudden success, and her very slight confidence in her own powers.' So, when this lady died, wherever they took her, or wherever they put her, she went to GOD! and she prayed to Him, this lady did,' said Polly, affecting herself beyond measure; being heartily in earnest, 'to teach her little daughter to be sure of that in her heart: and to know that she was happy there and loved her still: and to hope and try - Oh, all her life - to meet her there one day, never, never, never to part any more.'
'It was my Mama!' exclaimed the child, springing up, and clasping her round the neck.
'And the child's heart,' said Polly, drawing her to her breast: 'the little daughter's heart was so full of the truth of this, that even when she heard it from a strange nurse that couldn't tell it right, but was a poor mother herself and that was all, she found a comfort in it - didn't feel so lonely - sobbed and cried upon her bosom - took kindly to the baby lying in her lap - and - there, there, there!' said Polly, smoothing the child's curls and dropping tears upon them. 'There, poor dear!'
'Oh well, Miss Floy! And won't your Pa be angry neither!' cried a quick voice at the door, proceeding from a short, brown, womanly girl of fourteen, with a little snub nose, and black eyes like jet beads. 'When it was 'tickerlerly given out that you wasn't to go and worrit the wet nurse.
'She don't worry me,' was the surprised rejoinder of Polly. 'I am very fond of children.'
'Oh! but begging your pardon, Mrs Richards, that don't matter, you know,' returned the black-eyed girl, who was so desperately sharp and biting that she seemed to make one's eyes water. 'I may be very fond of pennywinkles, Mrs Richards, but it don't follow that I'm to have 'em for tea. 'Well, it don't matter,' said Polly. 'Oh, thank'ee, Mrs Richards, don't it!' returned the sharp girl. 'Remembering, however, if you'll be so good, that Miss Floy's under my charge, and Master Paul's under your'n.'
'But still we needn't quarrel,' said Polly.
'Oh no, Mrs Richards,' rejoined Spitfire. 'Not at all, I don't wish it, we needn't stand upon that footing, Miss Floy being a permanency, Master Paul a temporary.' Spitfire made use of none but comma pauses; shooting out whatever she had to say in one sentence, and in one breath, if possible.
'Miss Florence has just come home, hasn't she?' asked Polly.
'Yes, Mrs Richards, just come, and here, Miss Floy, before you've been in the house a quarter of an hour, you go a smearing your wet face against the expensive mourning that Mrs Richards is a wearing for your Ma!' With this remonstrance, young Spitfire, whose real name was Susan Nipper, detached the child from her new friend by a wrench - as if she were a tooth. But she seemed to do it, more in the excessively sharp exercise of her official functions, than with any deliberate unkindness.
'She'll be quite happy, now she has come home again,' said Polly, nodding to her with an encouraging smile upon her wholesome face, 'and will be so pleased to see her dear Papa to-night.'
'Lork, Mrs Richards!' cried Miss Nipper, taking up her words with a jerk. 'Don't. See her dear Papa indeed! I should like to see her do it!'
'Won't she then?' asked Polly.
'Lork, Mrs Richards, no, her Pa's a deal too wrapped up in somebody else, and before there was a somebody else to be wrapped up in she never was a favourite, girls are thrown away in this house, Mrs Richards, I assure you.
The child looked quickly from one nurse to the other, as if she understood and felt what was said.
'You surprise me!' cried Folly. 'Hasn't Mr Dombey seen her since - '
'No,' interrupted Susan Nipper. 'Not once since, and he hadn't hardly set his eyes upon her before that for months and months, and I don't think he'd have known her for his own child if he had met her in the streets, or would know her for his own child if he was to meet her in the streets to-morrow, Mrs Richards, as to me,' said Spitfire, with a giggle, 'I doubt if he's aweer of my existence.'
'Pretty dear!' said Richards; meaning, not Miss Nipper, but the little Florence.
'Oh! there's a Tartar within a hundred miles of where we're now in conversation, I can tell you, Mrs Richards, present company always excepted too,' said Susan Nipper; 'wish you good morning, Mrs Richards, now Miss Floy, you come along with me, and don't go hanging back like a naughty wicked child that judgments is no example to, don't!'
In spite of being thus adjured, and in spite also of some hauling on the part of Susan Nipper, tending towards the dislocation of her right shoulder, little Florence broke away, and kissed her new friend, affectionately.
'Oh dear! after it was given out so 'tickerlerly, that Mrs Richards wasn't to be made free with!' exclaimed Susan. 'Very well, Miss Floy!'
'God bless the sweet thing!' said Richards, 'Good-bye, dear!'
'Good-bye!' returned the child. 'God bless you! I shall come to see you again soon, and you'll come to see me? Susan will let us. Won't you, Susan?'
Spitfire seemed to be in the main a good-natured little body, although a disciple of that school of trainers of the young idea which holds that childhood, like money, must be shaken and rattled and jostled about a good deal to keep it bright. For, being thus appealed to with some endearing gestures and caresses, she folded her small arms and shook her head, and conveyed a relenting expression into her very-wide-open black eyes.
'It ain't right of you to ask it, Miss Floy, for you know I can't refuse you, but Mrs Richards and me will see what can be done, if Mrs Richards likes, I may wish, you see, to take a voyage to Chaney, Mrs Richards, but I mayn't know how to leave the London Docks.'
Richards assented to the proposition.
'This house ain't so exactly ringing with merry-making,' said Miss Nipper, 'that one need be lonelier than one must be. Your Toxes and your Chickses may draw out my two front double teeth, Mrs Richards, but that's no reason why I need offer 'em the whole set.'
This proposition was also assented to by Richards, as an obvious one.
'So I'm able, I'm sure,'said Susan Nipper, 'to live friendly, Mrs Richards, while Master Paul continues a permanency, if the means can be planned out without going openly against orders, but goodness gracious Miss Floy, you haven't got your things off yet, you naughty child, you haven't, come along!'
With these words, Susan Nipper, in a transport of coercion, made a charge at her young ward, and swept her out of the room.
The child, in her grief and neglect, was so gentle, so quiet, and uncomplaining; was possessed of so much affection that no one seemed to care to have, and so much sorrowful intelligence that no one seemed to mind or think about the wounding of, that Polly's heart was sore when she was left alone again. In the simple passage that had taken place between herself and the motherless little girl, her own motherly heart had been touched no less than the child's; and she felt, as the child did, that there was something of confidence and interest between them from that moment.
Notwithstanding Mr Toodle's great reliance on Polly, she was perhaps in point of artificial accomplishments very little his superior. She had been good-humouredly working and drudging for her life all her life, and was a sober steady-going person, with matter-of-fact ideas about the butcher and baker, and the division of pence into farthings. But she was a good plain sample of a nature that is ever, in the mass, better, truer, higher, nobler, quicker to feel, and much more constant to retain, all tenderness and pity, self-denial and devotion, than the nature of men. And, perhaps, unlearned as she was, she could have brought a dawning knowledge home to Mr Dombey at that early day, which would not then have struck him in the end like lightning.
But this is from the purpose. Polly only thought, at that time, of improving on her successful propitiation of Miss Nipper, and devising some means of having little Florence aide her, lawfully, and without rebellion. An opening happened to present itself that very night.
She had been rung down into the glass room as usual, and had walked about and about it a long time, with the baby in her arms, when, to her great surprise and dismay, Mr Dombey - whom she had seen at first leaning on his elbow at the table, and afterwards walking up and down the middle room, drawing, each time, a little nearer, she thought, to the open folding doors - came out, suddenly, and stopped before her.
'Good evening, Richards.'
Just the same austere, stiff gentleman, as he had appeared to her on that first day. Such a hard-looking gentleman, that she involuntarily dropped her eyes and her curtsey at the same time.
'How is Master Paul, Richards?'
'Quite thriving, Sir, and well.'
'He looks so,' said Mr Dombey, glancing with great interest at the tiny face she uncovered for his observation, and yet affecting to be half careless of it. 'They give you everything you want, I hope?'
'Oh yes, thank you, Sir.'
She suddenly appended such an obvious hesitation to this reply, however, that Mr Dombey, who had turned away; stopped, and turned round again, inquiringly.
'If you please, Sir, the child is very much disposed to take notice of things,' said Richards, with another curtsey, 'and - upstairs is a little dull for him, perhaps, Sir.'
'I begged them to take you out for airings, constantly,' said Mr Dombey. 'Very well! You shall go out oftener. You're quite right to mention it.'
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' faltered Polly, 'but we go out quite plenty Sir, thank you.'
'What would you have then?' asked Mr Dombey.
'Indeed Sir, I don't exactly know,' said Polly, 'unless - '
'Yes?'
'I believe nothing is so good for making children lively and cheerful, Sir, as seeing other children playing about 'em,' observed Polly, taking courage.
'I think I mentioned to you, Richards, when you came here,' said Mr Dombey, with a frown, 'that I wished you to see as little of your family as possible.'
'Oh dear yes, Sir, I wasn't so much as thinking of that.'
'I am glad of it,' said Mr Dombey hastily. 'You can continue your walk if you please.'
With that, he disappeared into his inner room; and Polly had the satisfaction of feeling that he had thoroughly misunderstood her object, and that she had fallen into disgrace without the least advancement of her purpose.
Next night, she found him walking about the conservatory when she came down. As she stopped at the door, checked by this unusual sight, and uncertain whether to advance or retreat, he called her in. His mind was too much set on Dombey and Son, it soon appeared, to admit of his having forgotten her suggestion.
'If you really think that sort of society is good for the child,' he said sharply, as if there had been no interval since she proposed it, 'where's Miss Florence?'
'Nothing could be better than Miss Florence, Sir,' said Polly eagerly, 'but I understood from her maid that they were not to - '
Mr Dombey rang the bell, and walked till it was answered.
'Tell them always to let Miss Florence be with Richards when she chooses, and go out with her, and so forth. Tell them to let the children be together, when Richards wishes it.'
The iron was now hot, and Richards striking on it boldly - it was a good cause and she bold in it, though instinctively afraid of Mr Dombey - requested that Miss Florence might be sent down then and there, to make friends with her little brother.
She feigned to be dandling the child as the servant retired on this errand, but she thought that she saw Mr Dombey's colour changed; that the expression of his face quite altered; that he turned, hurriedly, as if to gainsay what he had said, or she had said, or both, and was only deterred by very shame.
And she was right. The last time he had seen his slighted child, there had been that in the sad embrace between her and her dying mother, which was at once a revelation and a reproach to him. Let him be absorbed as he would in the Son on whom he built such high hopes, he could not forget that closing scene. He could not forget that he had had no part in it. That, at the bottom of its clear depths of tenderness and truth' lay those two figures clasped in each other's arms, while he stood on the bank above them, looking down a mere spectator - not a sharer with them - quite shut out.
Unable to exclude these things from his remembrance, or to keep his mind free from such imperfect shapes of the meaning with which they were fraught, as were able to make themselves visible to him through the mist of his pride, his previous feeling of indifference towards little Florence changed into an uneasiness of an extraordinary kind. Young as she was, and possessing in any eyes but his (and perhaps in his too) even more than the usual amount of childish simplicity and confidence, he almost felt as if she watched and distrusted him. As if she held the clue to something secret in his breast, of the nature of which he was hardly informed himself. As if she had an innate knowledge of one jarring and discordant string within him, and her very breath could sound it.
His feeling about the child had been negative from her birth. He had never conceived an aversion to her: it had not been worth his while or in his humour. She had never been a positively disagreeable object to him. But now he was ill at ease about her. She troubled his peace. He would have preferred to put her idea aside altogether, if he had known how. Perhaps - who shall decide on such mysteries! - he was afraid that he might come to hate her.
When little Florence timidly presented herself, Mr Dombey stopped in his pacing up and down and looked towards her. Had he looked with greater interest and with a father's eye, he might have read in her keen glance the impulses and fears that made her waver; the passionate desire to run clinging to him, crying, as she hid her face in his embrace, 'Oh father, try to love me! there's no one else!' the dread of a repulse; the fear of being too bold, and of offending him; the pitiable need in which she stood of some assurance and encouragement; and how her overcharged young heart was wandering to find some natural resting-place, for its sorrow and affection.
But he saw nothing of this. He saw her pause irresolutely at the door and look towards him; and he saw no more.
'Come in,' he said, 'come in: what is the child afraid of?'
She came in; and after glancing round her for a moment with an uncertain air, stood pressing her small hands hard together, close within the door.
'Come here, Florence,' said her father, coldly. 'Do you know who I am?'
'Yes, Papa.'
'Have you nothing to say to me?'
The tears that stood in her eyes as she raised them quickly to his face, were frozen by the expression it wore. She looked down again, and put out her trembling hand.
Mr Dombey took it loosely in his own, and stood looking down upon her for a moment, as if he knew as little as the child, what to say or do.
'There! Be a good girl,' he said, patting her on the head, and regarding her as it were by stealth with a disturbed and doubtful look. 'Go to Richards! Go!'
His little daughter hesitated for another instant as though she would have clung about him still, or had some lingering hope that he might raise her in his arms and kiss her. She looked up in his face once more. He thought how like her expression was then, to what it had been when she looked round at the Doctor - that night - and instinctively dropped her hand and turned away.
It was not difficult to perceive that Florence was at a great disadvantage in her father's presence. It was not only a constraint upon the child's mind, but even upon the natural grace and freedom of her actions. As she sported and played about her baby brother that night, her manner was seldom so winning and so pretty as it naturally was, and sometimes when in his pacing to and fro, he came near her (she had, perhaps, for the moment, forgotten him) it changed upon the instant and became forced and embarrassed.
Still, Polly persevered with all the better heart for seeing this; and, judging of Mr Dombey by herself, had great confidence in the mute appeal of poor little Florence's mourning dress.' It's hard indeed,' thought Polly, 'if he takes only to one little motherless child, when he has another, and that a girl, before his eyes.'
So, Polly kept her before his eyes, as long as she could, and managed so well with little Paul, as to make it very plain that he was all the livelier for his sister's company. When it was time to withdraw upstairs again, she would have sent Florence into the inner room to say good-night to her father, but the child was timid and drew back; and when she urged her again, said, spreading her hands before her eyes, as if to shut out her own unworthiness, 'Oh no, no! He don't want me. He don't want me!'
The little altercation between them had attracted the notice of Mr Dombey, who inquired from the table where he was sitting at his wine, what the matter was.
'Miss Florence was afraid of interrupting, Sir, if she came in to say good-night,' said Richards.
'It doesn't matter,' returned Mr Dombey. 'You can let her come and go without regarding me.'
The child shrunk as she listened - and was gone, before her humble friend looked round again.
However, Polly triumphed not a little in the success of her well-intentioned scheme, and in the address with which she had brought it to bear: whereof she made a full disclosure to Spitfire when she was once more safely entrenched upstairs. Miss Nipper received that proof of her confidence, as well as the prospect of their free association for the future, rather coldly, and was anything but enthusiastic in her demonstrations of joy.
'I thought you would have been pleased,' said Polly.
'Oh yes, Mrs Richards, I'm very well pleased, thank you,' returned Susan, who had suddenly become so very upright that she seemed to have put an additional bone in her stays.
'You don't show it,' said Polly.
'Oh! Being only a permanency I couldn't be expected to show it like a temporary,' said Susan Nipper. 'Temporaries carries it all before 'em here, I find, but though there's a excellent party-wall between this house and the next, I mayn't exactly like to go to it, Mrs Richards, notwithstanding!'

已故夫人的葬礼完成得使殡仪承办人和邻近的全体居民都完全称心满意(邻近的居民们通常在这种场合是喜欢吹毛求疵的,对礼仪中的任何疏忽或缺点都会生气见怪);在这之后,董贝先生家里的各个成员各自回到了他们在这个家庭体系中原先的地位中。这个小小的世界,就像户外的大世界一样,很容易把死去的人忘掉;当厨娘说了“她是一位性情安静的夫人”,女管家说了“这是人人都难以逃脱的命运”,男管家说了“谁曾料想到会发生这件事呢?”女仆说了“她简直不能相信这件事”,男仆说了“这似乎完全跟做梦一样”之后,他们在这个话题上就没有什么可以再说的了,而且开始觉得他们的丧服也已经穿得褪色了。
理查兹以一种体面的被囚禁的状态被安顿在楼上;对她来说,她的新生活的黎明是寒冷与灰暗的。董贝先生的公馆是一栋宏伟的房屋,座落在一条阴暗的、非常优雅的街道的背阴的一面,这条街道位于波特兰十字路口和布赖恩广场之间的地区内,两旁矗立着高大的房屋。这是一栋在街道拐角上的房子,里面十分宽敞,其中还包括一些地窖,装了铁条的窗子向它们皱着眉头,眼睛歪斜的、通向垃圾箱的门向它们斜眼瞅着。这是一栋阴暗沉闷的房屋,后背是圆形的,房屋里有一整套客厅;客厅前面是一个铺了石子的庭院,庭院里有两株干枯的树,树干和树枝都已发黑,发出了格格的、而不是飒飒的响声,因为树叶都已被烟熏枯了。夏天的太阳只有在上午吃早饭的时候才照射到这条街上,那时候运水车、卖旧衣的商人、卖天竺葵的小贩、修雨伞的人、还有一边走一边使荷兰钟的小铃儿发出叮当叮当响声的人也随着太阳来到这里。太阳很快就消失,这一天不再回来;随后而来的是乐队和潘趣木偶戏①;在这之后,人们只能听听风琴的极为沉闷的声音和看看白耗子的表演——有时还有一只豪猪来演杂技,以便变换一下娱乐的兴趣;到了薄暮的时候,男管家们(他们家里的人到外面吃晚饭去了)开始站在门口;点街灯的人试图用煤气来照亮这条街道,但每夜都没有成功。
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①潘趣(Punch):英国木偶戏中的主角,他的背是驼的,鼻子很长,而且是钩形的,他的妻子名叫朱迪(Judy),时常和他吵架。
公馆里面和外面一样单调无趣。葬礼结束以后,董贝先生命令把家具都蒙罩起来——也许是要保留起来给他儿子用的,因为他所有的计划都和他的儿子联系着——;除了第一层留给他自己用的房间外,其他所有的房间都不进行布置。因此,桌子和椅子堆在房间的中间,外面用大块的包尸布遮盖着,形成了各种神秘离奇的形状。铃柄、窗帘、镜子,由于用杂志、日报和周刊的纸包着,因此被迫对上面登载着的死亡与可怖的谋杀案情进行片断的报道。每一个用荷兰麻布包裹起来的枝形吊灯或分枝烛台,看上去就像是天花板眼睛中掉下的一滴巨大的泪珠。从烟囱中跑出来的气味就像从地下灵堂或潮湿的地方跑出的一样。已经逝世和安葬的夫人的肖像被镶嵌在用可怕的绷带包扎起来的画框中,看起来阴森可怖。每刮起一阵风,就从邻近的马厩中吹来了几根稻草,在拐角四周旋转;当她生病的时候,这些稻草曾经撒在房屋前面,那些发了霉的残余的稻草至今仍粘附在邻近的房屋上;它们常常被某种看不见的力量吸引到正对过的、等待出租的、肮脏的房屋的门槛上,现在正以凄凉的声调,向董贝先生的窗子滔滔不绝地诉说着。
董贝先生留给自己居住的房间和前厅连接,它们包括一间起居室,一间图书室,还有一间暖房或吃早餐的小玻璃房。图书室实际上是个化妆室,因此热压纸、上等皮纸、摩洛哥皮、俄国皮革的气味与好几双靴子的气味在室内相互竞赛。从暖房里可以望见前面提到的那两株树和几只四处觅食的猫。这三间房屋彼此相通。早上,当董贝先生在前面首先提到的那两间房子中的一间里吃早饭的时候,或者下午,当他回家来吃晚饭的时候,就有人摇铃,召唤理查兹到这个玻璃房里来,抱着她所抚养的小孩在那里走来走去。她在这些时候可以瞥见董贝先生坐在黑暗的远处,越过黑暗的笨重的家具(他的父亲曾经在这座邸宅中居住多年,它的许多陈设都是老式的,阴沉呆板的),向外望着这个婴儿。她从这些瞥见中开始产生了对他在孤独状态时的一些想法,仿佛他是一个在单人牢房中寂寞无伴的囚徒,或者是一个奇怪的幽灵,不能跟他说话,也不能对他进行了解。
小保罗•董贝的奶妈本人过着这样的生活,并带着小保罗一起过着这样的生活,已有好几个星期了。没有奇克夫人在一起,她是从来不出去的。奇克夫人通常在托克斯小姐的陪同下,在天气晴朗的上午前来看望,并带领她和婴孩到户外去散步,或者换句话说,就是在人行道上庄严地来回行走,像是个步行的送葬队伍似的。有一天,当她忧郁地穿过那些冷冷清清的房间闲逛之后,回到楼上,正要在自己的房间里坐下来的时候,房门缓慢地、平静地开了,一个黑眼睛的小女孩向房间里探望。
“这一定是弗洛伦斯小姐从她姑妈家里回来了,”理查兹想道,她以前从没有看见过这个孩子。“我希望,您身体很好,小姐。”
“这是我的弟弟吗?”女孩子指着婴孩,问道。
“是的,我的宝贝,”理查兹回答道。“来亲亲他吧。”
但是女孩子没有走上前来,而是望着她的脸,问道:
“您把我的妈妈怎么搞的?”
“天主保佑这个小人儿!”理查兹喊道,“多么使人伤心的问题!我怎么搞的?我什么也没有搞,小姐。”
“•他•们把我妈妈怎么搞的?”女孩子问道。
“我这一辈子还从没有见到过这样使人感伤的事情!”理查兹说道,她在心里自然把她自己的一个孩子代替了这个女孩子,在类似的情况下,正在打听她的下落。“往这里走近一些,我亲爱的小姐!别怕我。”
“我不怕您,”女孩子走近一些,说道,“但是我想知道,他们把我妈妈怎么搞的。”
“我亲爱的,”理查兹说道,“您穿那件漂亮的黑长衣来纪念您的妈妈。”
“不论穿什么长衣,”女孩子眼睛里涌出眼泪,回答道,“我都能记得我的妈妈。”
“可是人们穿上黑衣服来纪念那些已经离开我们的人们。”
“离开我们到哪里去了?”女孩子问道。
“到这里来坐在我的身旁,”理查兹说道,“我跟您讲一个故事。”
小弗洛伦斯迅速理解到这个故事是和她所问的问题有关的,就把直到现在还拿在手中的软帽搁在一边,坐在奶妈脚边的凳子上,仰望着她的脸。
“从前,”理查兹说道,“有一位夫人——一位很善良的夫人,她的小女儿非常爱她。”
“一位很善良的夫人,她的小女儿非常爱她,”女孩子重复道。
“当上帝认为是对的并应该这样的时候,她得了病,死去了。”
女孩子发抖了。
“她死了,世界上的人再也看不见她了,她被埋葬在地底下,那里长着树木。”
“那寒冷的地吗?”女孩子问道,她又发抖了。
“不,那温暖的地,”波利抓住这个有利的时机,回答道,“丑陋的小种子在地里转变成美丽的花朵,转变成毒草和谷物,还有我不知道的其他所有的东西。善良的人们在那里转变成光辉的天使,飞向天国!”
头一直低垂着的女孩子又抬起头来,坐在那里聚精会神地望着她。
“就这样,让我想想,”波利说道;面对着这认真探究的眼光,怀着安慰这女孩子的愿望,她突然间取得了成功,而她对她自己的能力又缺乏信心,在这些错综复杂的情况下,她的心情相当慌乱。“这样,当这位夫人死去以后,不论他们把她带到哪里,或者不论他们把她放到哪里,她都走到上帝那里去了!她向他祈祷,是的,这位夫人向他祈祷,”波利说道,由于她十分真诚,因此连她自己也无限地感动,“教她的小女儿真心相信这一切;让她知道,她妈妈在那里是幸福的,仍旧爱着她,并且让她希望和设法——哦,她整个一生都要设法——有一天到那里去会见她,永远永远也不再分离。”
“这是我的妈妈!”女孩子跳起来,紧紧地搂着她的脖子,高声喊道。
“这女孩子的心,”波利把她拉到怀里,“这小女儿的心真心诚意地相信这一切,虽然她是从一位陌生的奶妈那里听到的,这位奶妈不能讲得很好,但她本人是一位可怜的母亲,这就是一切;女孩子得到了安慰——,不再感到那么孤单——,她伏在她胸前抽抽嗒嗒地哭着,哇哇地大哭着——,自然而然地爱上了躺在她膝上的婴孩——好啦,好啦,好啦!”波利抚摸着女孩子的卷发,眼泪簌簌地落在上面,说道,“好啦,我可怜的好孩子!”
“啊,弗洛伊小姐!您爸爸还会不生气吗!”门口一个很快的声音喊道,这是从一位身材矮小、皮肤褐色、十四岁但神态却像成年妇女一样的姑娘发出的,她有一个小小的狮子鼻,一双像黑色大理石珠子一样乌黑的眼睛。“他曾经特别嘱咐过,不许您到奶妈这里来打扰她。”
“她没有打扰我,”波利感到惊异地回答道。“我很喜欢孩子。”
“啊,请您原谅,理查兹大嫂,这不要紧,您知道,”黑眼睛的姑娘回答道,她是这么尖嘴利舌,咄咄逼人,似乎要叫人直掉眼泪。“我可能很喜欢吃蜗牛,理查兹大嫂,但不能因此就断定说,我以后就光吃蜗牛不用喝茶了。”
“唔,这不要紧,”波利说道。
“啊,谢谢您,理查兹大嫂,这不算什么!”尖嘴利舌的姑娘回答道,“如果您肯费心记一记的话,那么请您记住,弗洛伊小姐归我管,保罗少爷归您管。”
“不过我们仍旧用不着争吵,”波利说道。
“啊,是的,理查兹大嫂,”脾气暴躁得像喷火器一样的姑娘回答道,“根本用不着,我并不希望争吵,我们用不着闹出那样的关系,看管弗洛伊小姐是个长期性的活,看管保罗少爷则是个临时性的活。”喷火器只使用逗点式的停顿;她想要说什么,都是像开熗似地在一个句子中说出,如果可能的话,则用一口气说出。
“弗洛伦斯小姐刚刚回家吧,是不是?”波利问道。
“是的,理查兹大嫂,刚刚回来,您看,弗洛伊小姐,您回到家来才一刻钟,您那湿漉漉的脸就把理查兹大嫂为您妈穿着的很贵的丧服弄脏了!”这个喷火器的真实姓名是苏珊•尼珀,她进行了这番申斥之后,就像拔牙似地用力一拧,把女孩子从她的新朋友那里拉开了。不过她这样做,似乎倒并不是由于她故意冷酷无情,而是由于她过分严厉地履行她的职责。
“现在她又回家来了,她将会十分幸福,”波利朝着她和善的脸露出鼓励的笑容,向她点点头,说道,“她今天晚上就要看到她亲爱的爸爸了,她该会多么高兴啊!”
“哎呀,理查兹大嫂!”尼珀姑娘立刻打断她的话,说道,“得了吧!说什么看到她亲爱的爸爸!我真愿意她能那样就好了!”
“这么说,她不能看到吗?”波利问道。
“哎呀,理查兹大嫂,不能,她爸爸的心思过分用在另外一个人身上了,在还没有这另外一个人让他操心的时候,她也从来不是个得宠的孩子,在这家里女孩子是被一脚踢开的,理查兹大嫂,我肯定地对您说。”
女孩子的眼光很快地从一位保姆的身上转到另一位保姆的身上,仿佛她理解和感觉到谈话的内容似的。
“您使我吃惊!”波利喊道,“难道从那时以来董贝先生就一直没有见到过她吗?——”
“没有,”苏珊•尼珀打断了她的话,说道,“从那时以来一次也没有见到,就在这以前他也几个月几个月不把眼睛往她身上看一眼,我想,如果他过去曾在街上遇到她的话,那么他是不会认出她是他的亲生女儿的,如果他明天在街上遇到她的话,那么他也是不会认出她是他的亲生女儿的,理查兹大嫂,至于我,”喷火器格格地笑了一声,说道,“我怀疑他是不是知道天地间还存在着我这样一个人呢。”
“我亲爱的宝贝!”理查兹说道,她不是指尼珀姑娘,而是指弗洛伦斯。
“啊,在我们现在谈话的一百英里之内有一位鞑靼,我可以告诉您,理查兹大嫂,现在在场的人总是不包括在里面的,”苏珊•尼珀说道;“祝您早上好,理查兹大嫂,现在弗洛伊小姐,您跟我来,别像一个淘气的坏孩子那样磨磨蹭蹭地不肯往前走,别学那种孩子,别去学。”
尽管受到了这样的规劝,也尽管苏珊•尼珀生拉硬拽了几下,几乎把她的右肩都要拽脱臼了,小弗洛伦斯还是挣脱了身子,满怀深情地吻着她的新朋友。
“再见!”女孩子说道,“上帝保佑您!我不久将再来看您,您是不是也会来看我?苏珊会让我们见面的,是不是,苏珊?”
总的说来,喷火器似乎是一位性格善良的小人儿,虽然在培训孩子的智力方面,她是这样一种学派的信徒,这种学派主张,孩子就像硬币一样,必须震动它们,叮叮当当地打响它们,并让它们磕磕碰碰,才能使它们发亮。因为,当弗洛伦斯向她这样恳求和向她作出了亲热的姿态与爱抚之后,她抱拢了两只胳膊,摇摇头,并在张得很大的黑眼睛中流露出了怜悯的神情。
“您向我提出这样的请求是不好的,弗洛伊小姐,因为您知道我不能拒绝您,但是理查兹大嫂和我将考虑考虑怎么办,如果理查兹大嫂愿意,您知道,我可能希望航行到中国去一趟,理查兹大嫂,可是我可能还不知道怎样离开伦敦码头呢。”
理查兹同意这个意见。
“这个公馆并不是真正充满欢乐的,”尼珀姑娘说道,“一个人需要过很孤独的生活,比他应该过的孤独生活更孤独。你们这些托克斯们,你们这些奇克们可以把我的两只门牙拔掉,理查兹大嫂,但是我没有理由要把我的全副牙齿都奉献给她们。”
这个意见理查兹也同意了,因为这是显然无疑的。
“所以毫无疑问,”苏珊•尼珀说道,“只要保罗少爷还归您管,理查兹大嫂,只要我们能想出个办法不会违抗上面的命令,我完全同意我们友好相处,可是我的老天爷呀,弗洛伊小姐,您怎么还不打算走哪,您这淘气的孩子,您还不打算走哪,跟我来吧!”
苏珊•尼珀说了这些话之后,立即采取了强迫的手段,向她这位年幼的被抚养人发动了袭击,把她飞快地拖出了房间。
女孩子处于悲伤与被冷落的境地中,是那么温柔,那么安静和没有怨言;她心里充满了那么深厚的感情,似乎没有一个人需要它;她的心又那么多愁善感,似乎没有一个人关心它或怕伤害它;因此当波利又独自留下来的时候,她的心感到痛苦。在她与那失去母亲的小女孩所进行的简单的交谈中,她本人做母亲的心被感动的程度并不比女孩子小。她像那女孩子一样,觉得从那时刻起,在她们之间已经产生了信任与关怀。
虽然图德尔先生对波利极为信任,但在知识技能方面她却不见得能胜过她。有些妇女的性格总的来说,比男子的性格更为善良、真诚、卓越、高尚,感觉更为敏捷,而且在保持温柔、怜悯、自我牺牲和忠诚的品质方面也比男子更为恒久,她就是这种妇女性格的一个优秀的、明显的样本。虽然她没有什么文化知识,可是她却能够在事情一开始的时候,就让董贝先生了解一些情况,这样就不会在最后像闪电似地使他万分惊愕。
但是我们已经离题了。那时候,波利所想到的只是把她从尼珀姑娘那里成功地取得的好感再推进一步,并想出办法使小弗洛伦斯合法地待在她的身边,而且不违抗主人的意旨。
就在那天晚上,出现了一个好机会。
她跟往常一样,听到铃声,就下楼到玻璃房里,手中抱着婴孩走来走去,走了好久;忽然,使她大感意外和惊愕的是,董贝先生从里面走了出来,停在她的前面。
“晚上好,理查兹。”
仍然是她在第一天看到的那位严厉的、生硬呆板的先生。他那不苟言笑的神色使她不由自主地低下了眼睛,行了个屈膝礼。
“保罗少爷好吗,理查兹?”
“很壮实,先生,很健康。”
“他看来是这样,”董贝先生说道,一边怀着极大的兴趣,朝着她掀开让他观察的很小的脸孔看了一眼,但却装作对它不大关心的样子,说道,“我希望,您需要的东西他们都给您了吧?”
“啊,是的,谢谢您,先生。”
可是她回答的时候,忽然流露出了明显的迟疑的口气,因此已经走开了的董贝先生又停下脚步,露出询问的神色,重新转过身来。
“我觉得,先生,要使孩子活泼愉快,最好的办法莫过于让他们看到别的孩子在他们周围玩耍,”波利鼓起勇气,说出了她的意见。
“我记得当您到这里来的时候,我曾经跟您说过,”董贝先生皱了皱眉头,说道,“我希望您尽可能不去探望您的家庭。
如果您愿意,您就继续散步吧。”
说完这些话,他就走进里面的房间去了;波利看出,他完全误解了她的意思;她碰了一鼻子灰,而却一点也没有达到她的目的。
第二天晚上,当她走下楼来的时候,她发现他正在暖房里踱着步子。她看到这不同往常的情形,心中迟疑,就在门口停住,不知道该往前走还是该往后退,正在这时候,他喊她进去。
“如果您真的认为那样的伴侣对孩子是有益的话,”他突然地说道,仿佛在她提出建议之后并没有间隔过一段时间似的,“弗洛伦斯小姐在哪里?”
“没有什么能比弗洛伦斯小姐更好的了,先生,”波利热情洋溢地说道,“但是我从她的小保姆那里了解到,他们不——”
董贝先生摇了摇铃,然后踱着步子,等着仆人跑来。
“告诉他们,只要理查兹喜欢,就让弗洛伦斯小姐跟理查兹在一起,跟她一起出去,等等。告诉他们,只要理查兹愿意,就让两个孩子在一起。”
铁现在热了,理查兹就大胆地敲打着它——这是个好事情,所以虽然她本能地害怕董贝先生,但是她还是勇敢地去做它——,她请求把弗洛伦斯小姐立刻送下楼来,送到她那里,跟她的小弟弟做朋友。
当仆人离开去执行这项任务的时候,她装出抚弄孩子的样子,可是她觉得,她看到董贝先生的脸色变了;他脸上的神情完全不同了;他急忙转过身来,仿佛想把他说过的话,或她说过的话,或两人都说过的话,收回去,只是由于不好意思才迟疑着没有说出来。
她是对的。上次他看到被他冷落的女儿的时候,她和她垂死的母亲正悲痛地拥抱着;这对他既是揭露,又是责备。让他把全部精力都贯注在他寄托着远大希望的儿子身上吧,可是他还是不能忘记那临终一幕的情景。他不能忘记,他没有参加进去。他不能忘记,在亲热与真诚的清澈的河底,躺着那两个相互拥抱在各自怀中的人儿,而他却仅仅是个完全被排除在外的旁观者,站在她们上面的岸上向下看着,而不是她们当中的一员。
他不能从记忆中消除这些事情,也不能从心中摆脱那些零碎不全的形象所包含的意义;他通过高傲的迷雾仍然能辨认出它们,因此他先前对小弗洛伦斯漠不关心的感情已转变成一种异乎寻常的不安。他几乎觉得,她在注意观察着他,对他不信任。仿佛她掌握着能打通他心中某种秘密的东西的线索,这种秘密的东西的性质他自己也不知道。仿佛她对他心中那条刺耳的、不和谐的琴弦有着天赋的知识,她呼一口气就能使它发出声音。
从她出生起,他对这女孩子的感情就是消极的。他对她从来不曾嫌恶,这不值得他去做,而且也不是他的心意。他从来没有觉得她是个绝对讨厌的东西。可是现在他对她却感到局促不安。她搅乱了他的安宁。如果他知道怎么办的话,他真愿意把关于她的思想完全撂在一旁。也许——谁能解答这种神秘的问题呢!——他害怕他会变得恨起她来。
当小弗洛伦斯提心吊胆地走进来的时候,董贝先生停止来回踱步,向她看着。如果他怀着更大的兴趣,并且用父亲的眼睛来看的话,他可能会从她那敏锐的眼光中看出使她心神慌乱的激动与恐惧,看出她热烈地盼望能跑去抱住他,把脸藏在他的怀抱中,喊道,“啊,爸爸,设法爱我吧,我没有别的亲人了!”,看出她站在那里可怜巴巴地需要得到某种保证与鼓励;看出她那负担过重的年幼的心正在彷徨,想为它的悲痛与深情寻找一个天然的安息的场所。
可是这些他什么也没有看到。他只看到她犹豫不决地停在门口,向他望着;他没有看到别的了。
“进来吧,”他说道,“进来吧。这孩子怕什么?”
她走进去了;在露出半信半疑的神态向四周环视了一会儿之后,她把小手紧紧地握在一起,紧挨在门口。
“到这里来,弗洛伦斯,”她的父亲冷冰冰地说道,“你知道我是谁吗?”
“知道,爸爸。”
“你没有什么话要对我说吗?”
当她迅速抬起眼睛望着他的脸的时候,那张脸上表露出的神情使她眼中噙着的泪水凝结了。她又低下眼睛,伸出了哆嗦的手。
董贝先生把它松松地握在自己手里,站在那里,眼睛向下对她看了一会儿,仿佛他和这女孩子一样,不知道该说什么和做什么似的。
“好吧!做一个好孩子!”他抚摸她的头,好像偷偷地用烦乱不安与疑惑不定的眼光望着她,说道,“到理查兹那里去吧!去吧!”
他的小女儿又迟疑了片刻,仿佛她还想偎依在他的身边或者还怀着一线希望:他会把她举起来,抱到他的怀中,并亲亲她。她又一次抬起眼睛望着他的脸孔。他想,她现在的表情跟她那天夜里环视四周,最后望着医生时的表情是多么相像啊,于是他就本能地放下她的手,走开了。
不难察觉,弗洛伦斯在她父亲面前处于极为不利的地位。它不仅使孩子在心理上感到拘束,而且也使她不能举止自然、优美和行动自由。波利看到这种情景,但仍然保持勇气,没有气馁;根据她自己对董贝先生的判断,她对可怜的小弗洛伦斯的丧服所发出的默默的呼吁寄托着很大的希望。“如果他只爱一个失去母亲的孩子,而另一个失去母亲的孩子就在他的眼前,那真是太残酷了,”波利想道。
所以,波利就在他的眼前把她尽量留得长久一些,又把小保罗照管得很好,这样显然可以看出,他在他姐姐的陪伴下,更加活泼了。到了需要重新回到楼上去的时候,她本想送弗洛伦斯到里面的房间去向她的父亲说声晚安,但这女孩子胆怯,退回来了;当波利又催促她去的时候,她伸开手掌捂住眼睛,仿佛要把自己微贱的形象给遮盖掉似的,“啊,不,不!他不需要我!他不需要我!”
她们之间发生的小争吵引起了董贝先生的注意;他正坐在桌旁喝酒,就问道,发生了什么事。
“弗洛伦斯小姐怕她进来跟您说晚安会打扰您,先生。”
“这没有关系,”董贝先生回答道。“您可以让她来来去去,不用管我。”
女孩子听了这话畏缩了,并且在她身份低下的朋友回过头来之前就离开了。
不管怎么说,波利由于成功地想出了这善意的计策,而且又十分灵巧地实现了它,所以感到十分得意,因此当她又平安地在楼上安下身来的时候,她就立即把这些情况详详细细地透露给喷火器听了。这样做,表明波利对尼珀姑娘表示信任,可是尼珀姑娘对于这一点,以及对她们今后可以自由交往的前景却反应相当冷淡。她丝毫也不热情地表示高兴。
“我还以为您会高兴的呢,”波利说道。
“啊,不错,理查兹大嫂,我非常高兴,谢谢您,”苏珊回答道;她身子忽然挺得笔直,好像有另一根骨头插进她的胸衣中似的。
“您没有把您的高兴表现出来,”波利说。
“啊!我只不过是一位在这里干长期活的人,不可能指望我像一位在这里干临时活的人表现得那么高兴,”苏珊•尼珀说道。“我发现,干临时活的人在这里总是占上风。不过虽然这座房屋跟隔壁的房屋之间有一道非常漂亮的界墙,可是我可能还是不愿意到那座房屋里去,理查兹大嫂。”
Chapter 4
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 4
In which some more First Appearances are made on the Stage of these Adventures
Though the offices of Dombey and Son were within the liberties of the City of London, and within hearing of Bow Bells, when their clashing voices were not drowned by the uproar in the streets, yet were there hints of adventurous and romantic story to be observed in some of the adjacent objects. Gog and Magog held their state within ten minutes' walk; the Royal Exchange was close at hand; the Bank of England, with its vaults of gold and silver 'down among the dead men' underground, was their magnificent neighbour. Just round the corner stood the rich East India House, teeming with suggestions of precious stuffs and stones, tigers, elephants, howdahs, hookahs, umbrellas, palm trees, palanquins, and gorgeous princes of a brown complexion sitting on carpets, with their slippers very much turned up at the toes. Anywhere in the immediate vicinity there might be seen pictures of ships speeding away full sail to all parts of the world; outfitting warehouses ready to pack off anybody anywhere, fully equipped in half an hour; and little timber midshipmen in obsolete naval uniforms, eternally employed outside the shop doors of nautical Instrument-makers in taking observations of the hackney carriages.
Sole master and proprietor of one of these effigies - of that which might be called, familiar!y, the woodenest - of that which thrust itself out above the pavement, right leg foremost, with a suavity the least endurable, and had the shoe buckles and flapped waistcoat the least reconcileable to human reason, and bore at its right eye the most offensively disproportionate piece of machinery - sole master and proprietor of that Midshipman, and proud of him too, an elderly gentleman in a Welsh wig had paid house-rent, taxes, rates, and dues, for more years than many a full-grown midshipman of flesh and blood has numbered in his life; and midshipmen who have attained a pretty green old age, have not been wanting in the English Navy.
The stock-in-trade of this old gentleman comprised chronometers, barometers, telescopes, compasses, charts, maps, sextants, quadrants, and specimens of every kind of instrument used in the working of a ship's course, or the keeping of a ship's reckoning, or the prosecuting of a ship's discoveries. Objects in brass and glass were in his drawers and on his shelves, which none but the initiated could have found the top of, or guessed the use of, or having once examined, could have ever got back again into their mahogany nests without assistance. Everything was jammed into the tightest cases, fitted into the narrowest corners, fenced up behind the most impertinent cushions, and screwed into the acutest angles, to prevent its philosophical composure from being disturbed by the rolling of the sea. Such extraordinary precautions were taken in every instance to save room, and keep the thing compact; and so much practical navigation was fitted, and cushioned, and screwed into every box (whether the box was a mere slab, as some were, or something between a cocked hat and a star-fish, as others were, and those quite mild and modest boxes as compared with others); that the shop itself, partaking of the general infection, seemed almost to become a snug, sea-going, ship-shape concern, wanting only good sea-room, in the event of an unexpected launch, to work its way securely to any desert island in the world.
Many minor incidents in the household life of the Ships'
Instrument-maker who was proud of his little Midshipman, assisted and bore out this fancy. His acquaintance lying chiefly among ship-chandlers and so forth, he had always plenty of the veritable ships' biscuit on his table. It was familiar with dried meats and tongues, possessing an extraordinary flavour of rope yarn. Pickles were produced upon it, in great wholesale jars, with 'dealer in all kinds of Ships' Provisions' on the label; spirits were set forth in case bottles with no throats. Old prints of ships with alphabetical references to their various mysteries, hung in frames upon the walls; the Tartar Frigate under weigh, was on the plates; outlandish shells, seaweeds, and mosses, decorated the chimney-piece; the little wainscotted back parlour was lighted by a sky-light, like a cabin.
Here he lived too, in skipper-like state, all alone with his nephew Walter: a boy of fourteen who looked quite enough like a midshipman, to carry out the prevailing idea. But there it ended, for Solomon Gills himself (more generally called old Sol) was far from having a maritime appearance. To say nothing of his Welsh wig, which was as plain and stubborn a Welsh wig as ever was worn, and in which he looked like anything but a Rover, he was a slow, quiet-spoken, thoughtful old fellow, with eyes as red as if they had been small suns looking at you through a fog; and a newly-awakened manner, such as he might have acquired by having stared for three or four days successively through every optical instrument in his shop, and suddenly came back to the world again, to find it green. The only change ever known in his outward man, was from a complete suit of coffee-colour cut very square, and ornamented with glaring buttons, to the same suit of coffee-colour minus the inexpressibles, which were then of a pale nankeen. He wore a very precise shirt-frill, and carried a pair of first-rate spectacles on his forehead, and a tremendous chronometer in his fob, rather than doubt which precious possession, he would have believed in a conspiracy against it on part of all the clocks and watches in the City, and even of the very Sun itself. Such as he was, such he had been in the shop and parlour behind the little Midshipman, for years upon years; going regularly aloft to bed every night in a howling garret remote from the lodgers, where, when gentlemen of England who lived below at ease had little or no idea of the state of the weather, it often blew great guns.
It is half-past five o'clock, and an autumn afternoon, when the reader and Solomon Gills become acquainted. Solomon Gills is in the act of seeing what time it is by the unimpeachable chronometer. The usual daily clearance has been making in the City for an hour or more; and the human tide is still rolling westward. 'The streets have thinned,' as Mr Gills says, 'very much.' It threatens to be wet to-night. All the weatherglasses in the shop are in low spirits, and the rain already shines upon the cocked hat of the wooden Midshipman.
'Where's Walter, I wonder!' said Solomon Gills, after he had carefully put up the chronometer again. 'Here's dinner been ready, half an hour, and no Walter!'
Turning round upon his stool behind the counter, Mr Gills looked out among the instruments in the window, to see if his nephew might be crossing the road. No. He was not among the bobbing umbrellas, and he certainly was not the newspaper boy in the oilskin cap who was slowly working his way along the piece of brass outside, writing his name over Mr Gills's name with his forefinger.
'If I didn't know he was too fond of me to make a run of it, and go and enter himself aboard ship against my wishes, I should begin to be fidgetty,' said Mr Gills, tapping two or three weather-glasses with his knuckles. 'I really should. All in the Downs, eh! Lots of moisture! Well! it's wanted.'
I believe,' said Mr Gills, blowing the dust off the glass top of a compass-case, 'that you don't point more direct and due to the back parlour than the boy's inclination does after all. And the parlour couldn't bear straighter either. Due north. Not the twentieth part of a point either way.'
'Halloa, Uncle Sol!'
'Halloa, my boy!' cried the Instrument-maker, turning briskly round. 'What! you are here, are you?'
A cheerful looking, merry boy, fresh with running home in the rain; fair-faced, bright-eyed, and curly-haired.
'Well, Uncle, how have you got on without me all day? Is dinner ready? I'm so hungry.'
'As to getting on,' said Solomon good-naturedly, 'it would be odd if I couldn't get on without a young dog like you a great deal better than with you. As to dinner being ready, it's been ready this half hour and waiting for you. As to being hungry, I am!'
'Come along then, Uncle!' cried the boy. 'Hurrah for the admiral!'
'Confound the admiral!' returned Solomon Gills. 'You mean the Lord Mayor.'
'No I don't!' cried the boy. 'Hurrah for the admiral! Hurrah for the admiral! For-ward!'
At this word of command, the Welsh wig and its wearer were borne without resistance into the back parlour, as at the head of a boarding party of five hundred men; and Uncle Sol and his nephew were speedily engaged on a fried sole with a prospect of steak to follow.
'The Lord Mayor, Wally,' said Solomon, 'for ever! No more admirals. The Lord Mayor's your admiral.'
'Oh, is he though!' said the boy, shaking his head. 'Why, the Sword Bearer's better than him. He draws his sword sometimes.
'And a pretty figure he cuts with it for his pains,' returned the Uncle. 'Listen to me, Wally, listen to me. Look on the mantelshelf.'
'Why who has cocked my silver mug up there, on a nail?' exclaimed the boy.
I have,' said his Uncle. 'No more mugs now. We must begin to drink out of glasses to-day, Walter. We are men of business. We belong to the City. We started in life this morning.
'Well, Uncle,' said the boy, 'I'll drink out of anything you like, so long as I can drink to you. Here's to you, Uncle Sol, and Hurrah for the
'Lord Mayor,' interrupted the old man.
'For the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, Common Council, and Livery,' said the boy. 'Long life to 'em!'
The uncle nodded his head with great satisfaction. 'And now,' he said, 'let's hear something about the Firm.'
'Oh! there's not much to be told about the Firm, Uncle,' said the boy, plying his knife and fork.' It's a precious dark set of offices, and in the room where I sit, there's a high fender, and an iron safe, and some cards about ships that are going to sail, and an almanack, and some desks and stools, and an inkbottle, and some books, and some boxes, and a lot of cobwebs, and in one of 'em, just over my head, a shrivelled-up blue-bottle that looks as if it had hung there ever so long.'
'Nothing else?' said the Uncle.
'No, nothing else, except an old birdcage (I wonder how that ever came there!) and a coal-scuttle.'
'No bankers' books, or cheque books, or bills, or such tokens of wealth rolling in from day to day?' said old Sol, looking wistfully at his nephew out of the fog that always seemed to hang about him, and laying an unctuous emphasis upon the words.
'Oh yes, plenty of that I suppose,' returned his nephew carelessly; 'but all that sort of thing's in Mr Carker's room, or Mr Morfin's, or MR Dombey's.'
'Has Mr Dombey been there to-day?' inquired the Uncle.
'Oh yes! In and out all day.'
'He didn't take any notice of you, I suppose?'.
'Yes he did. He walked up to my seat, - I wish he wasn't so solemn and stiff, Uncle, - and said, "Oh! you are the son of Mr Gills the Ships' Instrument-maker." "Nephew, Sir," I said. "I said nephew, boy," said he. But I could take my oath he said son, Uncle.'
'You're mistaken I daresay. It's no matter.
'No, it's no matter, but he needn't have been so sharp, I thought. There was no harm in it though he did say son. Then he told me that you had spoken to him about me, and that he had found me employment in the House accordingly, and that I was expected to be attentive and punctual, and then he went away. I thought he didn't seem to like me much.'
'You mean, I suppose,' observed the Instrument-maker, 'that you didn't seem to like him much?'
'Well, Uncle,' returned the boy, laughing. 'Perhaps so; I never thought of that.'
Solomon looked a little graver as he finished his dinner, and glanced from time to time at the boy's bright face. When dinner was done, and the cloth was cleared away (the entertainment had been brought from a neighbouring eating-house), he lighted a candle, and went down below into a little cellar, while his nephew, standing on the mouldy staircase, dutifully held the light. After a moment's groping here and there, he presently returned with a very ancient-looking bottle, covered with dust and dirt.
'Why, Uncle Sol!' said the boy, 'what are you about? that's the wonderful Madeira! - there's only one more bottle!'
Uncle Sol nodded his head, implying that he knew very well what he was about; and having drawn the cork in solemn silence, filled two glasses and set the bottle and a third clean glass on the table.
'You shall drink the other bottle, Wally,' he said, 'when you come to good fortune; when you are a thriving, respected, happy man; when the start in life you have made to-day shall have brought you, as I pray Heaven it may! - to a smooth part of the course you have to run, my child. My love to you!'
Some of the fog that hung about old Sol seemed to have got into his throat; for he spoke huskily. His hand shook too, as he clinked his glass against his nephew's. But having once got the wine to his lips, he tossed it off like a man, and smacked them afterwards.
'Dear Uncle,' said the boy, affecting to make light of it, while the tears stood in his eyes, 'for the honour you have done me, et cetera, et cetera. I shall now beg to propose Mr Solomon Gills with three times three and one cheer more. Hurrah! and you'll return thanks, Uncle, when we drink the last bottle together; won't you?'
They clinked their glasses again; and Walter, who was hoarding his wine, took a sip of it, and held the glass up to his eye with as critical an air as he could possibly assume.
His Uncle sat looking at him for some time in silence. When their eyes at last met, he began at once to pursue the theme that had occupied his thoughts, aloud, as if he had been speaking all the time.
'You see, Walter,' he said, 'in truth this business is merely a habit with me. I am so accustomed to the habit that I could hardly live if I relinquished it: but there's nothing doing, nothing doing. When that uniform was worn,' pointing out towards the little Midshipman, 'then indeed, fortunes were to be made, and were made. But competition, competition - new invention, new invention - alteration, alteration - the world's gone past me. I hardly know where I am myself, much less where my customers are.
'Never mind 'em, Uncle!'
'Since you came home from weekly boarding-school at Peckham, for instance - and that's ten days,' said Solomon, 'I don't remember more than one person that has come into the shop.'
'Two, Uncle, don't you recollect? There was the man who came to ask for change for a sovereign - '
'That's the one,' said Solomon.
'Why Uncle! don't you call the woman anybody, who came to ask the way to Mile-End Turnpike?'
'Oh! it's true,' said Solomon, 'I forgot her. Two persons.'
'To be sure, they didn't buy anything,' cried the boy.
'No. They didn't buy anything,' said Solomon, quietly.
'Nor want anything,' cried the boy.
'No. If they had, they'd gone to another shop,' said Solomon, in the same tone.
'But there were two of 'em, Uncle,' cried the boy, as if that were a great triumph. 'You said only one.'
'Well, Wally,' resumed the old man, after a short pause: 'not being like the Savages who came on Robinson Crusoe's Island, we can't live on a man who asks for change for a sovereign, and a woman who inquires the way to Mile-End Turnpike. As I said just now, the world has gone past me. I don't blame it; but I no longer understand it. Tradesmen are not the same as they used to be, apprentices are not the same, business is not the same, business commodities are not the same. Seven-eighths of my stock is old-fashioned. I am an old-fashioned man in an old-fashioned shop, in a street that is not the same as I remember it. I have fallen behind the time, and am too old to catch it again. Even the noise it makes a long way ahead, confuses me.'
Walter was going to speak, but his Uncle held up his hand.
'Therefore, Wally - therefore it is that I am anxious you should be early in the busy world, and on the world's track. I am only the ghost of this business - its substance vanished long ago; and when I die, its ghost will be laid. As it is clearly no inheritance for you then, I have thought it best to use for your advantage, almost the only fragment of the old connexion that stands by me, through long habit. Some people suppose me to be wealthy. I wish for your sake they were right. But whatever I leave behind me, or whatever I can give you, you in such a House as Dombey's are in the road to use well and make the most of. Be diligent, try to like it, my dear boy, work for a steady independence, and be happy!'
'I'll do everything I can, Uncle, to deserve your affection. Indeed I will,' said the boy, earnestly
'I know it,' said Solomon. 'I am sure of it,' and he applied himself to a second glass of the old Madeira, with increased relish. 'As to the Sea,' he pursued, 'that's well enough in fiction, Wally, but it won't do in fact: it won't do at all. It's natural enough that you should think about it, associating it with all these familiar things; but it won't do, it won't do.'
Solomon Gills rubbed his hands with an air of stealthy enjoyment, as he talked of the sea, though; and looked on the seafaring objects about him with inexpressible complacency.
'Think of this wine for instance,' said old Sol, 'which has been to the East Indies and back, I'm not able to say how often, and has been once round the world. Think of the pitch-dark nights, the roaring winds, and rolling seas:'
'The thunder, lightning, rain, hail, storm of all kinds,' said the boy.
'To be sure,' said Solomon, - 'that this wine has passed through. Think what a straining and creaking of timbers and masts: what a whistling and howling of the gale through ropes and rigging:'
'What a clambering aloft of men, vying with each other who shall lie out first upon the yards to furl the icy sails, while the ship rolls and pitches, like mad!' cried his nephew.
'Exactly so,' said Solomon: 'has gone on, over the old cask that held this wine. Why, when the Charming Sally went down in the - '
'In the Baltic Sea, in the dead of night; five-and-twenty minutes past twelve when the captain's watch stopped in his pocket; he lying dead against the main-mast - on the fourteenth of February, seventeen forty-nine!' cried Walter, with great animation.
'Ay, to be sure!' cried old Sol, 'quite right! Then, there were five hundred casks of such wine aboard; and all hands (except the first mate, first lieutenant, two seamen, and a lady, in a leaky boat) going to work to stave the casks, got drunk and died drunk, singing "Rule Britannia", when she settled and went down, and ending with one awful scream in chorus.'
'But when the George the Second drove ashore, Uncle, on the coast of Cornwall, in a dismal gale, two hours before daybreak, on the fourth of March, 'seventy-one, she had near two hundred horses aboard; and the horses breaking loose down below, early in the gale, and tearing to and fro, and trampling each other to death, made such noises, and set up such human cries, that the crew believing the ship to be full of devils, some of the best men, losing heart and head, went overboard in despair, and only two were left alive, at last, to tell the tale.'
'And when,' said old Sol, 'when the Polyphemus - '
'Private West India Trader, burden three hundred and fifty tons, Captain, John Brown of Deptford. Owners, Wiggs and Co.,' cried Walter.
'The same,' said Sol; 'when she took fire, four days' sail with a fair wind out of Jamaica Harbour, in the night - '
'There were two brothers on board,' interposed his nephew, speaking very fast and loud, 'and there not being room for both of them in the only boat that wasn't swamped, neither of them would consent to go, until the elder took the younger by the waist, and flung him in. And then the younger, rising in the boat, cried out, "Dear Edward, think of your promised wife at home. I'm only a boy. No one waits at home for me. Leap down into my place!" and flung himself in the sea!'
The kindling eye and heightened colour of the boy, who had risen from his seat in the earnestness of what he said and felt, seemed to remind old Sol of something he had forgotten, or that his encircling mist had hitherto shut out. Instead of proceeding with any more anecdotes, as he had evidently intended but a moment before, he gave a short dry cough, and said, 'Well! suppose we change the subject.'
The truth was, that the simple-minded Uncle in his secret attraction towards the marvellous and adventurous - of which he was, in some sort, a distant relation, by his trade - had greatly encouraged the same attraction in the nephew; and that everything that had ever been put before the boy to deter him from a life of adventure, had had the usual unaccountable effect of sharpening his taste for it. This is invariable. It would seem as if there never was a book written, or a story told, expressly with the object of keeping boys on shore, which did not lure and charm them to the ocean, as a matter of course.
But an addition to the little party now made its appearance, in the shape of a gentleman in a wide suit of blue, with a hook instead of a hand attached to his right wrist; very bushy black eyebrows; and a thick stick in his left hand, covered all over (like his nose) with knobs. He wore a loose black silk handkerchief round his neck, and such a very large coarse shirt collar, that it looked like a small sail. He was evidently the person for whom the spare wine-glass was intended, and evidently knew it; for having taken off his rough outer coat, and hung up, on a particular peg behind the door, such a hard glazed hat as a sympathetic person's head might ache at the sight of, and which left a red rim round his own forehead as if he had been wearing a tight basin, he brought a chair to where the clean glass was, and sat himself down behind it. He was usually addressed as Captain, this visitor; and had been a pilot, or a skipper, or a privateersman, or all three perhaps; and was a very salt-looking man indeed.
His face, remarkable for a brown solidity, brightened as he shook hands with Uncle and nephew; but he seemed to be of a laconic disposition, and merely said:
'How goes it?'
'All well,' said Mr Gills, pushing the bottle towards him.
He took it up, and having surveyed and smelt it, said with extraordinary expression:
'The?'
'The,' returned the Instrument-maker.
Upon that he whistled as he filled his glass, and seemed to think they were making holiday indeed.
'Wal'r!' he said, arranging his hair (which was thin) with his hook, and then pointing it at the Instrument-maker, 'Look at him! Love! Honour! And Obey! Overhaul your catechism till you find that passage, and when found turn the leaf down. Success, my boy!'
He was so perfectly satisfied both with his quotation and his reference to it, that he could not help repeating the words again in a low voice, and saying he had forgotten 'em these forty year.
'But I never wanted two or three words in my life that I didn't know where to lay my hand upon 'em, Gills,' he observed. 'It comes of not wasting language as some do.'
The reflection perhaps reminded him that he had better, like young Norval's father, '"ncrease his store." At any rate he became silent, and remained so, until old Sol went out into the shop to light it up, when he turned to Walter, and said, without any introductory remark:
'I suppose he could make a clock if he tried?'
'I shouldn't wonder, Captain Cuttle,' returned the boy.
'And it would go!' said Captain Cuttle, making a species of serpent in the air with his hook. 'Lord, how that clock would go!'
For a moment or two he seemed quite lost in contemplating the pace of this ideal timepiece, and sat looking at the boy as if his face were the dial.
'But he's chockful of science,' he observed, waving his hook towards the stock-in-trade. 'Look'ye here! Here's a collection of 'em. Earth, air, or water. It's all one. Only say where you'll have it. Up in a balloon? There you are. Down in a bell? There you are. D'ye want to put the North Star in a pair of scales and weigh it? He'll do it for you.'
It may be gathered from these remarks that Captain Cuttle's reverence for the stock of instruments was profound, and that his philosophy knew little or no distinction between trading in it and inventing it.
'Ah!' he said, with a sigh, 'it's a fine thing to understand 'em. And yet it's a fine thing not to understand 'em. I hardly know which is best. It's so comfortable to sit here and feel that you might be weighed, measured, magnified, electrified, polarized, played the very devil with: and never know how.'
Nothing short of the wonderful Madeira, combined with the occasion (which rendered it desirable to improve and expand Walter's mind), could have ever loosened his tongue to the extent of giving utterance to this prodigious oration. He seemed quite amazed himself at the manner in which it opened up to view the sources of the taciturn delight he had had in eating Sunday dinners in that parlour for ten years. Becoming a sadder and a wiser man, he mused and held his peace.
'Come!' cried the subject of this admiration, returning. 'Before you have your glass of grog, Ned, we must finish the bottle.'
'Stand by!' said Ned, filling his glass. 'Give the boy some more.'
'No more, thank'e, Uncle!'
'Yes, yes,' said Sol, 'a little more. We'll finish the bottle, to the House, Ned - Walter's House. Why it may be his House one of these days, in part. Who knows? Sir Richard Whittington married his master's daughter.'
'"Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London, and when you are old you will never depart from it,"' interposed the Captain. 'Wal'r! Overhaul the book, my lad.'
'And although Mr Dombey hasn't a daughter,' Sol began.
'Yes, yes, he has, Uncle,' said the boy, reddening and laughing.
'Has he?' cried the old man. 'Indeed I think he has too.
'Oh! I know he has,' said the boy. 'Some of 'em were talking about it in the office today. And they do say, Uncle and Captain Cuttle,' lowering his voice, 'that he's taken a dislike to her, and that she's left, unnoticed, among the servants, and that his mind's so set all the while upon having his son in the House, that although he's only a baby now, he is going to have balances struck oftener than formerly, and the books kept closer than they used to be, and has even been seen (when he thought he wasn't) walking in the Docks, looking at his ships and property and all that, as if he was exulting like, over what he and his son will possess together. That's what they say. Of course, I don't know.
'He knows all about her already, you see,' said the instrument-maker.
'Nonsense, Uncle,' cried the boy, still reddening and laughing, boy-like. 'How can I help hearing what they tell me?'
'The Son's a little in our way at present, I'm afraid, Ned,' said the old man, humouring the joke.
'Very much,' said the Captain.
'Nevertheless, we'll drink him,' pursued Sol. 'So, here's to Dombey and Son.'
'Oh, very well, Uncle,' said the boy, merrily. 'Since you have introduced the mention of her, and have connected me with her and have said that I know all about her, I shall make bold to amend the toast. So here's to Dombey - and Son - and Daughter!'

虽然董贝父子公司的营业所位于伦敦城的辖区之内,鲍教堂①的钟所发出的响亮声音在没有被街道的喧嚣淹没时,在这里是可以听得见的,但在邻近某些地方仍然可以看得见英勇冒险、情节离奇的传说的遗迹。高格和马高格②的尊严神态,在十分钟步行的距离之内就可以看见;伦敦皇家交易所就在近旁;英格兰银行是它最宏伟的近邻,它地下的保险库中,“在下面的空瓶子中间③”,装满了金银。在街道拐角上矗立着富有的东印度公司④,它使人接连不断地联想起贵重的织物、宝石、老虎、象、象轿⑤、水烟筒、雨伞、棕榈树、四人或六人抬的大轿,还有那皮肤褐色、坐在地毯上的豪华的王子们,他们的便鞋前端是高高翘起的。在邻近的任何地方都可以看到画着张满风帆、飞速驶向世界各地的船舶的图画,也可以看到旅行用品仓库,它们可以在半小时之内把任何人到任何地方去所需要的旅行用品装备齐全;还可以看到在航海仪器制造商人的店门外有一些小小的、木制的海军军官候补生,穿着陈旧过时的海军制服,永远在监视着出租马车。
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①鲍教堂(BowChurch):位于伦敦市中心;它的钟声所及之处,就是伦敦市的市区。
②高格和马高格(GogandMagog):是伦敦市政厅门前的两个木雕巨像;相传马格是过去的君王,马高格是另一位传说中的英雄。
③这是古老的祝酒词中的话语。
④东印度公司(EastIndiaHouse):存在于1600年至1858年的英国贸易公司。公司长期垄断了对印度的贸易,并操纵了这个国家最重要的管理职能。
⑤象轿:驮在象背上可供数人乘坐的凉亭状座位。
有些海军军官候补生的模拟像我们可以不客气地称为最像木头那样死板的,它们以一种使人极难以忍受的谦恭有礼的神气,伸出右腿,矗立在人行道上;它们的鞋扣和带翻领的背心的式样是人们的理智最难以接受的;它们还拿了一件仪器,放在右眼附近,那仪器的大小十分不合比例,使人看了极为不快。在这些模拟像当中,有一个模拟像的唯一的主人与所有者,也就是说那个海军军官候补生的唯一的主人与所有者(他以他而感到自豪),是一位上了年纪、带威尔士假发的、有身份的先生;他支付房租、税金和应付费用的时间比许多有血有肉、完全长大成人的海军军官候补生的年龄还长;在英国海军中,年富力强的海军军官候补生是并不缺少的。
这位老先生的存货包括精密计时表、晴雨表、望远镜、罗盘、航海图、地图、六分仪、象限仪,以及用于确定船舶航线、进行船舶计算、研究船舶所在地的各种仪器的样品。在他的抽屉中和架子上存放着铜制的与玻璃制的物品;除了那些具有初步知识的人以外,谁也不能找出它们的顶部,或猜出它们的使用方法,或在看过它们之后,在没有帮助的情况下,能放回到它们桃花心木制的老窝里去。每一件东西都被塞进最紧凑的箱子中,装到最狭窄的角落里,后面用最不得当的软垫防护着,并用螺丝拧紧到最尖锐的角中,以防止它那像哲学家般的沉着镇静被海洋的滚滚波涛所扰乱。在所有的情况下都采取了这种不同寻常的预防措施,以便节省地方,把东西摆得紧凑。一切都适合于实际航行的要求,都用软垫防护,并都紧紧拧进每个箱子中(不论它们像有些箱子那样,是普通的四角形箱子,还是像另一些箱子那样,有些像三角帽、有些像海星的东西,或者是那些与其他箱子比较起来比较温柔和不大的箱子);因此,在这种总的气氛的影响下,这个店铺本身似乎几乎都要变成一个温暖舒适、适于航海的、船舶形状的商店了,在突然下水的情况下,所缺少的只是足够行船的水面,能使它安全行驶到世界上任何一个荒岛上去。
这位对他的小海军军官候补生感到自豪的船舶仪器制造商的家庭生活中的许多细小情节,也加深和突出这样一种幻觉。他的熟人主要是船具商之类的人,所以他在餐桌上经常摆放着许多真正在船上吃的饼干。餐桌上也经常有肉干和舌干,散发出绳子麻线的气味;酸菜是用很大的批发的坛子端到餐桌上来的,坛子上贴着印有“经销船上各种食品”字样的标签;烈酒是用没有瓶颈的方瓶子端上的。墙上挂着的画框中是描绘船舶的老版画,船舶上的字母是指明各种秘密的;盘子上画着在前进中的鞑靼快速帆船;壁炉架上装饰着奇异的贝壳、海藻和苔藓;装有护壁板的小后客厅,像船舱一样,光线是从天窗中射进来的。
他像小商船的船长一样,和他的外甥沃尔特住在这里,没有别的人。沃尔特是一位十四岁的男孩子,他那副神态活像是一位海军军官候补生,这也进一步加深了上述总的印象。但事情到这里也就完结了,因为所罗门•吉尔斯本人(人们通常更喜欢管他叫老所尔),根本没有一位航海人员的外貌。他那威尔士假发自然不消说了,那是威尔士假发中最普通、最难梳理的,他带上它看上去一点也不像海盗。从其他方面来看,他是个慢条斯理,讲话平平静静,并喜爱思考的老人;他的眼睛红红的,仿佛是穿过迷雾看着您的小太阳;他的神态像是刚刚被唤醒的样子,如果他通过店中每一架光学仪器连续凝视三、四天之后,突然重新回到周围的世界上,发现它一片绿色的话,那么他就可能呈现出这样的神态。他的外表中唯一可以看到的变化是,他原来全身上下穿着一套咖啡色的服装,裁剪得宽松肥大,上面装饰着发亮的扣子,现在则仍旧穿着那同样咖啡色的上衣,但裤子却换成颜色较淡的本色布做的了。他衬衫的褶边整整齐齐;前额上架着一副最上等的眼镜;裤上的表袋中装着一只很大的精密计时表,他宁肯相信伦敦城里所有的钟表,甚至太阳都共同密谋来跟它作对,也决不会对他这个宝贵的财产产生怀疑。他现在就像过去一样,年复一年地这样待在这个小小的海军军官候补生身后的店铺中和客厅里;每天夜里他定时爬上远离其他房客的一个凄凉的顶楼中去睡觉,当安安逸逸住在下面的英国的先生们很少想到,或根本没有想到天气怎样的时候,这顶楼上却常常刮大风。
读者与所罗门•吉尔斯认识是在一个秋天下午的五点半钟。所罗门•吉尔斯那时正在看他那只完美无缺的精密计时表,看看是什么时候了。城市照常每天一次向外疏散人群,已经进行了一个小时或更长久一些;人的浪潮仍然向西滚滚流动着。就像吉尔斯先生所说的,“街上的人已经稀少得多了。”今天晚上好像要下雨。店铺里所有的晴雨表都呈现出垂头丧气的神态。雨滴已经在木制海军军官候补生的三角帽上闪耀着亮光。
“不知道沃尔特在哪里!”吉尔斯把精密计时表重新小心地藏好以后,说道,“晚饭已经准备好半个小时了,可是却不见沃尔特!”
吉尔斯先生在柜台后面的凳子上转过身子,通过橱窗中的仪器往外看,看看他的外甥是不是正在穿越马路。没有。他没有在那些摆动的雨伞中间。他也决不是那个戴油布帽子、卖报的男孩子,那男孩子正沿着外面的铜牌慢吞吞地走过去,并且用食指把自己的姓名写在吉尔斯先生的姓名上面。
“如果我不知道,他太爱我了,不会逃跑,也不会违反我的意愿,自己跑到船上去的话,那么我真要开始坐立不安了,”吉尔斯先生用指关节轻轻敲打着两、三个晴雨表。“我真会的!全都在很低的度数①,啊!湿气真大!唔,是需要下雨了。”
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①原文为AllintheDowns,吉尔斯这样说是指晴雨表中的度数很低,但这又是英国剧作家和诗人约翰•盖伊(JohnGay,1685—1732年)著名叙事诗《温存的威廉和黑眼睛的苏珊告别》(SweetWiliam’sFarewelltoBlack-eyedSusan)中开头的诗句,意为“船队全都在唐斯”。唐斯(theDowns)是英法之间多佛海峡的一部分,为船舶停泊处。狄更斯采用这种文字表现方法,是为了使读者感到幽默有趣。
“我觉得,”吉尔斯先生把一个罗盘匣子玻璃顶上的灰尘吹去,说道,“孩子总是喜欢跑到后客厅里去,你毕竟不能比他更直接更准确地指向后客厅。后客厅的方向是不能更正确的了。正北,不向其他方向偏离二十分之一度!”
“喂,所尔舅舅!”
“喂,我的孩子!”仪器制造商轻快地转过身去,喊道,“啊,你回来了,是吗?”
这是个兴致勃勃、快快活活的男孩子,由于冒雨回家来,显得十分精神;他的脸白嫩、漂亮,眼睛明亮,头发卷曲。
“唔,舅舅,我不在,你整天是怎么过的?晚饭好了吗?
我饿极了。”
“说到这一天怎么过嘛,”所罗门和颜悦色地说道,“如果像你这样一条小狗不在,我不能过得比你在的时候好得多,那就怪了。说到晚饭好了没有嘛,它已经准备好半个钟头了,正在等着你呢。说到饿嘛,•我也一样!”
“那么来吧,舅舅!”孩子喊道,“海军上将万岁!”
“去你的海军上将!”所罗门•吉尔斯回答道。“你是想说市长先生吧。”
“不,我不是想说他!”孩子喊道。“海军上将万岁!海军上将万岁!前——进!”
这道命令一下,威尔士假发和它的佩戴者就立刻毫无抵抗地被带领到后客厅去,就好像走在由五百人组成的攻入敌船的队伍的最前面似的;然后所尔舅舅和他的外甥很快就开始吃起煎箬鳎鱼来;旁边摆着的牛排是他们的下一道菜。
“永远是市长,沃利,”所罗门说道,“不要再提海军上将了。市长就是•你•的海军上将。”
“哦,难道是这样吗?”孩子摇摇头,说道,“唔,捧剑侍从也比市长强些。捧剑侍从有时还能抽出•他•们的剑来。”
“尽管他费尽力气,但还是显出一副愚蠢的样子,”舅舅回答道。“听我说,沃利,听我说。看那壁炉架。”
“哎呀,谁把我的银杯子挂在钉子上了?”孩子高声喊道。
“我挂的,”他的舅舅说道。“现在不用这种有柄的大杯子了。从今天起我们必须用玻璃杯喝了,沃尔特。我们是做生意的人。我们属于伦敦市。从今天早上起,我们开始过新的生活了。”
“好吧,舅舅,”孩子说道,“只要我能为你祝福就行,我可以用任何你喜欢的东西来喝。现在,所尔舅舅。为你的健康干杯!我还要为——”
“为市长欢呼。”老人打断他的话。
“为市长,为名誉郡长,为市参议会,为同业工会会员欢呼!”孩子说道,“祝他们万岁!”
舅舅十分满意地点点头。“现在,”他说道,“让我来听你谈谈公司的什么事情吧。”
“啊!公司的事情没有什么好谈的,舅舅,”孩子使用着刀和叉,说道,“那里有好多非常阴暗的办公室;在我坐的那个房间里,有一个很高的火炉围栏,一个铁的保险柜,一些关于即将启航的商船公告,一个日历,几张写字台和凳子,一个墨水瓶,几本书,几个箱子,还有好多蜘蛛网,其中有一个正好在我的头顶,里面有一只干瘪的青蝇,看上去挂在那里已经好久了。”
“没有别的了吗?”舅舅问道。
“是的,没有别的了,不过还有一只旧的鸟笼子,我不知道它怎么到那里去的!还有一个煤桶。”
“难道就没有银行存折、支票簿、证券或者其他象征着每天滚滚涌进来的财富之类的东西吗?”老所尔说道,一边通过那永远好像笼罩在他的四周的迷雾,渴望了解似地望着他的外甥,并故意讨好地强调那些词儿。
“啊是的,我想那会有好多,”他的外甥漫不经心地回答道,“不过所有那些东西都是在卡克先生的房间里,或者在莫芬先生的房间里,或者在董贝先生的房间里。”
“董贝先生今天在那里吗?”舅舅问道。
“啊是的。整天进进出出。”
“我想他没有注意到你吧。”
“不,他注意到了。他走到我的坐位跟前——我真但愿他不那么严肃,不那么生硬呆板,舅舅——,说,‘哦!您就是船舶仪器制造商吉尔斯先生的儿子吧。’我说,‘他的外甥,先生。’他说,‘我是说外甥,孩子。’但是,舅舅,我可以发誓,他确实是说儿子。”
“我想是你弄错了,这不要紧。”
“是的,这不要紧,但是我想,他不用那么严厉。虽然他确实是说儿子,但这话倒不含有什么恶意。然后他告诉我,你曾经对他说到我,因此他就在公司里给我找了个工作;他希望我勤勤恳恳工作,按时上班下班,然后他就走开了。我觉得他好像不是很喜欢我。”
“我想,你的意思是想说,”仪器制造商说道,“你好像不很喜欢他吧?”
“唔,舅舅,”孩子大笑着回答道,“也许是的。我从没有想到过这一点。”
所罗门吃完晚饭的时候,神情比刚才沉着一些;他不时向孩子快活的脸看一眼。当晚餐已经结束,桌布已经撤走(这顿饭菜是从邻近的小餐馆里取来的)以后,他点亮了一支蜡烛,下楼走到一个小地窖里;他的外甥则站在生了霉的楼梯上,孝顺地拿着蜡烛照他;他这里那里摸索了一番之后,不久就拿着一个样子很古老并积满了灰尘的瓶子回来了。
“哎呀,所尔舅舅!”孩子说道,“你想干什么?那是珍贵的马德拉白葡萄酒①呀!那里只剩下一瓶了。”
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①马德拉(Madeira)是在非洲西北部大西洋中的一个岛,所产的葡萄酒很有名。
所尔舅舅点点头,表示他很清楚他想干什么。在一片肃静中,他拔出软木塞,倒满了两只玻璃杯,然后把酒瓶和第三只干净的空玻璃杯放在桌子上。
“沃利,”他说道,“当你交了好运的时候,当你成为一个取得成功、受人尊敬、生活幸福的人的时候,当你今天在生活中已经迈出的第一步将把你引向一条康庄大道上去的时候——我向上天祈祷,它会把你引向那里去的——,你将喝另外那瓶酒,我的孩子。为我对你的爱干杯!”
老所尔周围笼罩着的迷雾,有些似乎已经跑到他的喉咙里去了,因为他讲话的声音干哑了。当他和外甥碰杯时,他的手也哆嗦了。但是当他把酒杯一举到唇边的时候,他却像堂堂男子汉一样,一口喝光,然后咂咂嘴。
“亲爱的舅舅,”孩子眼中含着泪水,但却故意装出没把这件事放在心上的样子,说道,“为了感谢你对我所表示的恩情,等等,等等,我现在建议为所罗门•吉尔斯先生欢呼三乘三次再加一次。万岁!舅舅,当我们一起喝那最后一瓶酒的时候,你再来回敬我的这次祝酒,好吗?”
他们又碰了杯;沃尔特杯子里还剩着酒,他啜了一口,尽可能装出一副很有鉴别力的神气,把杯子举到眼睛前面。
他的舅舅坐在那里默默地看了他一些时候。当他们的眼光最终相遇时,他立刻开始把他脑子里思考的问题大声地继续说下去,仿佛他一直在说话似的。
“你知道,沃尔特,”他说道,“老实说,经营这个生意对我来说,是一种习惯。我在这个习惯中已经陷得很深,如果我抛弃了它的话,那么我就难以活下去。可是现在没有生意呀,没有生意。当穿那种制服的时候,”他指着小海军军官候补生说道,“确实,那时候是可以发财的,我也真的发了财。可是竞争呀,竞争呀——新发明呀,新发明呀,——改变呀,改变呀,——这世界已经从我的身边走过去了。我不知道我自己现在在哪里,更不知道我的顾客现在在哪里。”
“别去想那些事情,舅舅!”
“举个例子来说吧,你从佩克姆①寄宿学校②回家以后,已有十天了,”所罗门说道,“在这十天中,我记得只有一个人到这店里来过”。
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①佩克姆(Peckham):伦敦郊区的地方。
②原文为weeklyboardingschool,是指一个星期寄宿六天的学校。
“两个人,舅舅。你不记得了吗?不有个男子到这里来请求把一镑换成零钱——”
“就是那个人,”所罗门说道。
“怎么,舅勇!有一位女人到这里来问到迈尔•恩德收税栅的路怎么走法,难道你认为她就不是人吗?”
“噢!不错,”所罗门说道,“我把她给忘了。总共两个人。”
“当然,他们什么也没有买,”孩子喊道。
“是的,他们什么也没有买,”所罗门平静地说道。
“他们也不想买什么东西,”孩子喊道。
“是的。如果他们想买的话,那么他们会到别的店铺里去买的,”所罗门用同样的声调说道。
“不过他们是两个人呀,舅舅,”孩子喊道,仿佛那是个很大的胜利似的。“你刚才却说只有一个人。”
“唔,沃利,”老人在短时间的沉默之后继续说道,“我们不像到鲁滨孙•克鲁索①荒岛上去的野人那样,不能靠一位请求把一镑换成零钱的男子和一位问到迈尔•恩德收税栅的路怎么走法的女人来生活。我刚才说过,这世界已经从我身边走过去了。我不责怪它;但我不再了解它了。商人和过去的不一样了;徒弟和过去的不一样了;商业和过去的不一样了,商品和过去的不一样了。我的存货八分之七都是老式的。我们这条街和我记得的过去的那一条街已经不一样了;我是这条街上一个老式的店铺中的一位老式的人。我已经落在时间的后面了,我太老了,不能再赶上它了。甚至它在前面很远的地方所发出的声音也把我搞糊涂了。”
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①鲁滨孙•克鲁索(RobinsonCrusoe):是英国作家丹尼尔•笛福(DanielDefoe,1660—1731年)所著小说《鲁滨孙漂流记》中的主人翁,他在一个杳无人烟的荒岛上度过了二十八年。
沃尔特想要讲话,但是他的舅舅举起了手。
“因此,沃利——因此,我渴望让你尽早到这个忙忙碌碌的世界里去,尽早走上这个世界的道路。我只是这个商店的一个幽灵——它的实体很久以前就已消亡了。当我死了的时候,它的幽灵就被埋葬了。很明显,那时候我将没有什么遗产留给你,因此我想,为了你的利益,最好利用我通过长期的习惯所保留下来的几乎唯一还存在的一丁点儿老关系。有些人认为我是富有的。为了你的缘故,我但愿他们是对的。可是不论我在死后会留下什么,也不论我能给你什么,你在董贝这样的公司里工作,就有可能好好地使用它,充分地利用它。我亲爱的孩子,做一个勤勉的人,设法喜爱你的事业吧,为了过长久的独立的生活而工作,并成为一个幸福的人吧!”
“我将尽量去做我所能做的一切,不辜负你对我的深情厚意,舅舅。我确实将会这样去做的,”孩子恳切地说道。
“我知道这一点,”所罗门说道,“我相信这一点,”他更加津津有味地喝着第二杯马德拉陈酒。“至于海洋,”他继续说道,“它在想象中是很好的,沃利,但实际上却并不是那样,根本不是那样的。你想到海洋,把它跟所有这些熟悉的东西联系起来,这是很自然的;但实际上它并不是那样的,它并不是那样的。”
可是所罗门•吉尔斯在谈到海洋的时候,却露出内心暗暗欣喜的神态,搓着手,并且怀着难以形容的踌躇满志的心情看着周围的航海物品。
“例如,想一想这葡萄酒吧,”老所尔说道,“我不知道它有多少次被运到东印度群岛,然后又运回来,有一次还周游了全世界。想一想那漆黑的夜,那怒吼的风和那滚滚的波涛吧!”
“想一想那雷,那闪电,那雨,那冰雹和那狂风暴雨吧!”
孩子说道。
“毫无疑问,”所罗门说道,“这葡萄酒曾经经历了这一切。想一想那船板和桅杆弯曲变形,发出了吱吱嘎嘎的响声吧,想一想那大风穿过缆绳和索具发出的长啸和怒号吧!”
“想一想当船在疯狂似地左右摇晃、前后颠簸的时候,船员们却往桅杆高处攀登,相互竞争谁先爬到帆桁上去卷收结冰的船帆吧!”他的外甥喊道。
“一点不错,”所罗门说道,“装着这酒的旧桶经受了这一切。唉!当‘妩媚的萨利’号沉没在——”
“波罗的海①,在深更半夜的时候,12点25分钟,这时船长衣袋里的表停止走了;他躺在大桅杆附近旁死去了,那是在1749年2月24日!”沃尔特十分兴奋地喊道。
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①波罗的海(BaltieSea):欧洲北部的内海。
“完全正确!那时候船上有五百桶这样的葡萄酒;当船开始往下沉没的时候,除了一位大副、一位海军上尉、两名船员和一位女士乘着一条漏水的小船离开了以外,船上所有其他的船员都去把酒桶敲破,喝得酩酊大醉,并在醉中死去,一边还唱着英国的爱国国歌,最后同声发出了可怕的一声尖叫。”
“但是舅勇,当‘乔治第二’号在1971年3月4日黎明前两小时在可怕的大风中向康沃尔①岸急驶的时候,船上有近二百匹马;在大风开始刮起来的时候,这些马在下面的底舱中挣脱了缰绳,来回狂奔,相互踩死;它们发出了十分嘈杂的声音,并发出了像人一样的叫声,船员们都以为船上充满了鬼怪,甚至那些最勇敢的人也六神无主,张惶失措,绝望地从船上跳入水中,最后只剩下两个人还活下来,向人们叙说这段经历。”
“而当,”老所尔说道,“当‘波利菲默斯’号——”
“这艘私人的西印度商船,载重量三百五十吨,船长是德普特福德人约翰•布朗。船主是威格斯公司,”沃尔特喊道。
“就是这艘船,”所尔说道,“当它乘着顺风,从牙买加②港开出四天以后,在夜间着火了……”
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①康沃尔(Cornwall):英国西南部的半岛。
②牙买加(Jamaica):位于加勒比海北部,邻近古巴和海地,是加勒比海的第三大岛。
“船上有两兄弟,”他的外甥打断他,说得很快,声音很大,“只有一条没有漏水的小船,但是装不下他们两人,兄弟两人谁也不同意到小船里去,后来哥哥抱着弟弟的腰,把他抛了进去。弟弟从小船中站起来喊道,‘亲爱的爱德华,想一想你在家中的未婚妻吧。我只是个孩子,家里没有人在等待我。跳到我这里来吧!’然后他自己就跳进海里去了!”
孩子对他们讲的事情真诚地感到激动,已经从坐位上站起来;他那闪闪发光的眼睛和发红的脸似乎在向老所尔提醒,他已经忘记了一些什么事情,或者提醒他,他四周的迷雾到现在已经消散了。虽然片刻之前他显然还打算讲一些奇闻轶事,但现在他已不再继续讲它们了。他短短地干咳了一声,说,“唔,我们换个话题吧。”
事实是,由于这位心地纯朴的舅舅本人暗中向往一切奇异和冒险的事迹——就他的职业来说,他和这类事迹也可说有几分远亲的关系——,他已经在他外甥的心中大大激起了同样向往的心情;一直来为诱导孩子不要从事冒险生涯所说的一切,通常总是激励了他对它的兴趣,这样的结果是无法解释的。情况总是这样,不会改变。为了劝告孩子们留在陆地上而写作的书本或讲述的故事,照例总是诱惑和吸引他们到海洋上去。似乎从来没有过相反的情形。
可是这时候来了一位先生,使这小小的聚会增加了一个人。他穿着一件宽阔的蓝外衣,在右腕下面有一个钩子,而不是一只手;他的眉毛又黑又浓,左手拿着一根粗大的手杖,手杖上有好多节,就像他鼻子上有好多疙瘩一样。他的脖子上宽松地系着一条黑色的绸围巾;衬衫领子很大,质地粗劣,看上去就像一面小船帆一样。显然,他就是那只空酒杯所等待的人。他也显然知道这一点;因为他脱去粗糙的外套,并把帽子挂在门后一个特别的木钉上以后,就把一张椅子移到那只空杯子旁边,面对着它坐下来。他的帽子是一顶上了光①的硬帽子,有怜悯心的人一看到它就会头疼;它在他的前额上留下了一道红圈,仿佛他一直戴着一个紧窄的盆子似的。他曾经是一位领港员,或一位小商船的船长,或一位私掠船船长,或这三种人都是。他那外貌确实像一位老海员。
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①指上了釉,擦亮了的。
他的脸是褐色的,结实的,十分引人注目;当他和舅甥两人握手的时候,他脸上露出了喜色;但他似乎生性是一位言辞简洁的人,只是说道:
“事情怎么样?”
“一切都好,”吉尔斯把酒瓶推到他那边,说道。
他拿起酒瓶,细细地看了一下,闻了一下,然后露出异乎寻常的表情,说道:
“是•它吗?”
“是•它,”仪器制造商回答道。
在这之后,他一边往杯子里倒酒,一边吹口哨,似乎在想,他们真正在欢庆节日呢。
“沃尔!”他用钩子梳理了一下稀疏的头发,然后指着仪器制造商,说道,“看着他!爱他!尊敬他!并服从他!翻一下你的《教义问答》,把这一段话找到①,找到的时候把书页折一下。祝你成功,我的孩子!”
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①“爱他!尊敬他!并服从他!”,这实际上是在婚礼仪式上说的话,并不是《教义问答》中的话。船长记错了。
他对这段语录和他的引用都十分满意,因此情不自禁地低声重复说着这段话,并说他在这四十年中已把它们忘记了。
“不过,吉尔斯,在我一生中还不曾发生过我不知道到哪里去找到我所需要的两、三个字的,”他说道,“因此,我不像有些人那样爱讲废话。”
这个意见也许提醒他,他最好像年轻的诺瓦尔①的父亲一样,“增加他的储存”,使他的知识更丰富一些。不管怎么样,他沉默下来,而且保持着沉默,直到老所尔离开餐桌到店铺里去点灯的时候,他才转向沃尔特,没有开场白,就说道:
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①诺瓦尔(Norval):苏格兰戏剧家琼•霍姆(JoneHom,1722—1808年)所写悲剧《道格拉斯》(Douglas)中的主人翁;该悲剧的主题取自苏格兰的叙事诗。
“我想如果他试一试的话,他能做出一只钟。”
“我对这不会奇怪,卡特尔船长,”孩子回答道。
“这只钟还能走!”船长用钩子在空中划了一道像一种蛇一样的线条,“我的天主,那种怎么会走哪!”
在一两秒钟的时间内,他似乎完全出神地在思考着这只理想的钟走动的快慢,并坐在那里看着孩子,仿佛他的脸是针盘似的。
“可是他脑子里装满了科学,”他用钩子指着那些存货,说道,“往这里看一看吧!这里是这些东西的集合:泥土、空气或水。这里全都有了。只要说一下你准备到哪里去就行了。你想乘汽球到天上去吗?那你就到那里了!你想乘潜水艇到水底下去吗?那你就到那里了!你是不是想把北极星放到天平上去称一称?他会给你办到。”
从这些话中可以看出,卡特尔船长对这些仪器的存货怀着深深的敬意;也可以看出,他对买卖这些仪器与发明这些仪器之间的区别没有什么理解或完全不理解。
“啊!”他叹了一口气,说道,“懂得它们是一件好事,可是不懂得它们也是一件好事。我真不知道哪一件更好一些。坐在这里,觉得你可能被称,被计量,被放大,被通电,被给以极性,被伤害,但却不知道是怎样做到这些的,这是一件愉快的事情。”
除了这奇妙的马德拉葡萄酒加上这令人高兴的时刻(他需要利用这时刻来提高和发展沃尔特的智力)之外,没有什么能打开他的话匣子,使他发表出这番精彩的言论。他自己似乎也感到很惊奇,这马德拉酒用这样一种方式使他看到了这十年来每逢星期天他在这客厅里吃晚饭时所享有的默默的喜悦的源泉。然后他变得忧伤,也更为慎重,就沉思着,默默无言。
“听着!”他所钦佩的对象回来了,喊道,“在你喝掺水的烈酒之前,内德,我们必须把这一瓶喝光。”
“做好准备!①”内德把他的酒杯倒满,说道,“给这孩子再倒一些。”
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①做好准备(standby):船长命令船员们准备抛锚或准备执行其他任务时的用语。卡特尔船长时常讲这句话。
“不要了,谢谢你,舅舅!”
“不,不,”所尔说道,“再喝一点儿。我们得把这一瓶喝光,为公司干杯,内德——为沃尔特的公司干杯。是呀,有朝一日这个公司也可能将部分地属于他的呢。谁知道呢?理查德•惠廷顿①爵士不是娶了他主人的女儿吗?”
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①这本小说中多次提到英国民间故事中的主人翁理查德•惠廷顿(RichardWhittington)。根据这个民间传说,500多年前,可怜的孤儿迪克(即理查德•惠廷顿)从农村到伦敦去碰运气,后来被善良的富商菲茨沃德收留,在他家中做工。迪克受不了厨娘的虐待,在一个万圣节的早上从家中逃出去。当他来到海盖特,在路边坐下来,不知该走哪条路的时候,突然在宁静的早晨的空气中传来了鲍教堂的钟声,仿佛对他说:“回去吧,惠廷顿,您是一个好公民。回去吧,惠廷顿,伦敦的市长!”钟声一遍又一遍地说着同样的话。于是他站起来转身顺原路回到主人家中,没有被人发现。北非有一个国家巴巴里耗子横行,国王由于从富商的商船中得到迪克送去出卖的小猫,制服了鼠害,就用贵重的宝石来换小猫,于是迪克发了大财。他和主人的女儿艾丽斯极为相爱,后来结了婚。此后不久,理查德•惠廷顿爵士三次出任伦敦市长。
“回去吧,惠廷顿,伦敦的市长,!当你老了的时候,你将永远也不会再离开它了,”船长打断他的话,说道,“沃尔,翻一翻书本,我的孩子。”
“只不过董贝先生没有女儿,”所尔开始说道。
“不,不,他有,舅舅,”孩子红着脸,大笑着说道。
“他有吗?”老人喊道。“不错,我想他也有女儿。”
“啊,我知道他有,”孩子说道。“公司里有些人今天还在办公室里谈起这些事。舅舅,卡特尔船长,”他压低了声音,“他们说他不喜欢她,不关心她,让她跟仆人住在一起;他的心思完全往一个地方想,就是要让他的儿子担任公司的合伙人;所以虽然他的儿子现在还只不过是个婴孩,可是他现在却要求公司的帐目比过去结得更勤一些,帐本比过去记得更细一些,甚至还有人看见他(他自以为没有被人看见)在码头上散步,一边望着他的商船和货物以及其他这一类东西,仿佛他看到他和他儿子将要共同占有这一切,于是就感到兴高采烈了。这是他们所说的。我当然什么也不知道。”
“你看,他已经了解了她的一切,”仪器制造商说道。
“胡说,舅舅,”孩子仍旧红着脸,大笑着,孩子气地喊道。“我怎么能不听到他们告诉我的话呢?”
“我担心,内德,这个儿子现在有些妨碍我们,”老人开玩笑地说道。
“非常妨碍,”船长说道。
“尽管这样,我们还是要为他祝酒,”所尔继续说道,“所以让我们来为董贝父子干杯!”
“啊,好极了,舅舅,”孩子开心地说道,“既然你们已经谈到了她,又把我跟她扯在一起,而且还说我已经了解了她的一切,那么我将不揣冒昧地把这祝酒词修改一下。让我们来为董贝父——子——女干杯!”
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 5
Paul's Progress and Christening
Little Paul, suffering no contamination from the blood of the Toodles, grew stouter and stronger every day. Every day, too, he was more and more ardently cherished by Miss Tox, whose devotion was so far appreciated by Mr Dombey that he began to regard her as a woman of great natural good sense, whose feelings did her credit and deserved encouragement. He was so lavish of this condescension, that he not only bowed to her, in a particular manner, on several occasions, but even entrusted such stately recognitions of her to his sister as 'pray tell your friend, Louisa, that she is very good,' or 'mention to Miss Tox, Louisa, that I am obliged to her;'specialities which made a deep impression on the lady thus distinguished.
Whether Miss Tox conceived that having been selected by the Fates to welcome the little Dombey before he was born, in Kirby, Beard and Kirby's Best Mixed Pins, it therefore naturally devolved upon her to greet him with all other forms of welcome in all other early stages of his existence - or whether her overflowing goodness induced her to volunteer into the domestic militia as a substitute in some sort for his deceased Mama - or whether she was conscious of any other motives - are questions which in this stage of the Firm's history herself only could have solved. Nor have they much bearing on the fact (of which there is no doubt), that Miss Tox's constancy and zeal were a heavy discouragement to Richards, who lost flesh hourly under her patronage, and was in some danger of being superintended to death.
Miss Tox was often in the habit of assuring Mrs Chick, that nothing could exceed her interest in all connected with the development of that sweet child;' and an observer of Miss Tox's proceedings might have inferred so much without declaratory confirmation. She would preside over the innocent repasts of the young heir, with ineffable satisfaction, almost with an air of joint proprietorship with Richards in the entertainment. At the little ceremonies of the bath and toilette, she assisted with enthusiasm. The administration of infantine doses of physic awakened all the active sympathy of her character; and being on one occasion secreted in a cupboard (whither she had fled in modesty), when Mr Dombey was introduced into the nursery by his sister, to behold his son, in the course of preparation for bed, taking a short walk uphill over Richards's gown, in a short and airy linen jacket, Miss Tox was so transported beyond the ignorant present as to be unable to refrain from crying out, 'Is he not beautiful Mr Dombey! Is he not a Cupid, Sir!' and then almost sinking behind the closet door with confusion and blushes.
'Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, one day, to his sister, 'I really think I must present your friend with some little token, on the occasion of Paul's christening. She has exerted herself so warmly in the child's behalf from the first, and seems to understand her position so thoroughly (a very rare merit in this world, I am sorry to say), that it would really be agreeable to me to notice her.'
Let it be no detraction from the merits of Miss Tox, to hint that in Mr Dombey's eyes, as in some others that occasionally see the light, they only achieved that mighty piece of knowledge, the understanding of their own position, who showed a fitting reverence for his. It was not so much their merit that they knew themselves, as that they knew him, and bowed low before him.
'My dear Paul,' returned his sister, 'you do Miss Tox but justice, as a man of your penetration was sure, I knew, to do. I believe if there are three words in the English language for which she has a respect amounting almost to veneration, those words are, Dombey and Son.'
'Well,' said Mr Dombey, 'I believe it. It does Miss Tox credit.'
'And as to anything in the shape of a token, my dear Paul,' pursued his sister, 'all I can say is that anything you give Miss Tox will be hoarded and prized, I am sure, like a relic. But there is a way, my dear Paul, of showing your sense of Miss Tox's friendliness in a still more flattering and acceptable manner, if you should be so inclined.'
'How is that?' asked Mr Dombey.
'Godfathers, of course,' continued Mrs Chick, 'are important in point of connexion and influence.'
'I don't know why they should be, to my son, said Mr Dombey, coldly.
'Very true, my dear Paul,' retorted Mrs Chick, with an extraordinary show of animation, to cover the suddenness of her conversion; 'and spoken like yourself. I might have expected nothing else from you. I might have known that such would have been your opinion. Perhaps;' here Mrs Chick faltered again, as not quite comfortably feeling her way; 'perhaps that is a reason why you might have the less objection to allowing Miss Tox to be godmother to the dear thing, if it were only as deputy and proxy for someone else. That it would be received as a great honour and distinction, Paul, I need not say.
'Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, after a short pause, 'it is not to be supposed - '
'Certainly not,' cried Mrs Chick, hastening to anticipate a refusal, 'I never thought it was.'
Mr Dombey looked at her impatiently.
'Don't flurry me, my dear Paul,' said his sister; 'for that destroys me. I am far from strong. I have not been quite myself, since poor dear Fanny departed.'
Mr Dombey glanced at the pocket-handkerchief which his sister applied to her eyes, and resumed:
'It is not be supposed, I say 'And I say,' murmured Mrs Chick, 'that I never thought it was.'
'Good Heaven, Louisa!' said Mr Dombey.
'No, my dear Paul,' she remonstrated with tearful dignity, 'I must really be allowed to speak. I am not so clever, or so reasoning, or so eloquent, or so anything, as you are. I know that very well. So much the worse for me. But if they were the last words I had to utter - and last words should be very solemn to you and me, Paul, after poor dear Fanny - I would still say I never thought it was. And what is more,' added Mrs Chick with increased dignity, as if she had withheld her crushing argument until now, 'I never did think it was.' Mr Dombey walked to the window and back again.
'It is not to be supposed, Louisa,' he said (Mrs Chick had nailed her colours to the mast, and repeated 'I know it isn't,' but he took no notice of it), 'but that there are many persons who, supposing that I recognised any claim at all in such a case, have a claim upon me superior to Miss Tox's. But I do not. I recognise no such thing. Paul and myself will be able, when the time comes, to hold our own - the House, in other words, will be able to hold its own, and maintain its own, and hand down its own of itself, and without any such common-place aids. The kind of foreign help which people usually seek for their children, I can afford to despise; being above it, I hope. So that Paul's infancy and childhood pass away well, and I see him becoming qualified without waste of time for the career on which he is destined to enter, I am satisfied. He will make what powerful friends he pleases in after-life, when he is actively maintaining - and extending, if that is possible - the dignity and credit of the Firm. Until then, I am enough for him, perhaps, and all in all. I have no wish that people should step in between us. I would much rather show my sense of the obliging conduct of a deserving person like your friend. Therefore let it be so; and your husband and myself will do well enough for the other sponsors, I daresay.'
In the course of these remarks, delivered with great majesty and grandeur, Mr Dombey had truly revealed the secret feelings of his breast. An indescribable distrust of anybody stepping in between himself and his son; a haughty dread of having any rival or partner in the boy's respect and deference; a sharp misgiving, recently acquired, that he was not infallible in his power of bending and binding human wills; as sharp a jealousy of any second check or cross; these were, at that time the master keys of his soul. In all his life, he had never made a friend. His cold and distant nature had neither sought one, nor found one. And now, when that nature concentrated its whole force so strongly on a partial scheme of parental interest and ambition, it seemed as if its icy current, instead of being released by this influence, and running clear and free, had thawed for but an instant to admit its burden, and then frozen with it into one unyielding block.
Elevated thus to the godmothership of little Paul, in virtue of her insignificance, Miss Tox was from that hour chosen and appointed to office; and Mr Dombey further signified his pleasure that the ceremony, already long delayed, should take place without further postponement. His sister, who had been far from anticipating so signal a success, withdrew as soon as she could, to communicate it to her best of friends; and Mr Dombey was left alone in his library. He had already laid his hand upon the bellrope to convey his usual summons to Richards, when his eye fell upon a writing-desk, belonging to his deceased wife, which had been taken, among other things, from a cabinet in her chamber. It was not the first time that his eye had lighted on it He carried the key in his pocket; and he brought it to his table and opened it now - having previously locked the room door - with a well-accustomed hand.
From beneath a leaf of torn and cancelled scraps of paper, he took one letter that remained entire. Involuntarily holding his breath as he opened this document, and 'bating in the stealthy action something of his arrogant demeanour, he s at down, resting his head upon one hand, and read it through.
He read it slowly and attentively, and with a nice particularity to every syllable. Otherwise than as his great deliberation seemed unnatural, and perhaps the result of an effort equally great, he allowed no sign of emotion to escape him. When he had read it through, he folded and refolded it slowly several times, and tore it carefully into fragments. Checking his hand in the act of throwing these away, he put them in his pocket, as if unwilling to trust them even to the chances of being re-united and deciphered; and instead of ringing, as usual, for little Paul, he sat solitary, all the evening, in his cheerless room.
There was anything but solitude in the nursery; for there, Mrs Chick and Miss Tox were enjoying a social evening, so much to the disgust of Miss Susan Nipper, that that young lady embraced every opportunity of making wry faces behind the door. Her feelings were so much excited on the occasion, that she found it indispensable to afford them this relief, even without having the comfort of any audience or sympathy whatever. As the knight-errants of old relieved their minds by carving their mistress's names in deserts, and wildernesses, and other savage places where there was no probability of there ever being anybody to read them, so did Miss Susan Nipper curl her snub nose into drawers and wardrobes, put away winks of disparagement in cupboards, shed derisive squints into stone pitchers, and contradict and call names out in the passage.
The two interlopers, however, blissfully unconscious of the young lady's sentiments, saw little Paul safe through all the stages of undressing, airy exercise, supper and bed; and then sat down to tea before the fire. The two children now lay, through the good offices of Polly, in one room; and it was not until the ladies were established at their tea-table that, happening to look towards the little beds, they thought of Florence.
'How sound she sleeps!' said Miss Tox.
'Why, you know, my dear, she takes a great deal of exercise in the course of the day,' returned Mrs Chick, 'playing about little Paul so much.'
'She is a curious child,' said Miss Tox.
'My dear,' retorted Mrs Chick, in a low voice: 'Her Mama, all over!'
'In deed!' said Miss Tox. 'Ah dear me!'
A tone of most extraordinary compassion Miss Tox said it in, though she had no distinct idea why, except that it was expected of her.
'Florence will never, never, never be a Dombey,'said Mrs Chick, 'not if she lives to be a thousand years old.'
Miss Tox elevated her eyebrows, and was again full of
commiseration.
'I quite fret and worry myself about her,' said Mrs Chick, with a sigh of modest merit. 'I really don't see what is to become of her when she grows older, or what position she is to take. She don't gain on her Papa in the least. How can one expect she should, when she is so very unlike a Dombey?'
Miss Tox looked as if she saw no way out of such a cogent argument as that, at all.
'And the child, you see,' said Mrs Chick, in deep confidence, 'has poor dear Fanny's nature. She'll never make an effort in after-life, I'll venture to say. Never! She'll never wind and twine herself about her Papa's heart like - '
'Like the ivy?' suggested Miss Tox.
'Like the ivy,' Mrs Chick assented. 'Never! She'll never glide and nestle into the bosom of her Papa's affections like - the - '
'Startled fawn?' suggested Miss Tox.
'Like the startled fawn,' said Mrs Chick. 'Never! Poor Fanny! Yet, how I loved her!'
'You must not distress yourself, my dear,' said Miss Tox, in a soothing voice. 'Now really! You have too much feeling.'
'We have all our faults,' said Mrs Chick, weeping and shaking her head. 'I daresay we have. I never was blind to hers. I never said I was. Far from it. Yet how I loved her!'
What a satisfaction it was to Mrs Chick - a common-place piece of folly enough, compared with whom her sister-in-law had been a very angel of womanly intelligence and gentleness - to patronise and be tender to the memory of that lady: in exact pursuance of her conduct to her in her lifetime: and to thoroughly believe herself, and take herself in, and make herself uncommonly comfortable on the strength of her toleration! What a mighty pleasant virtue toleration should be when we are right, to be so very pleasant when we are wrong, and quite unable to demonstrate how we come to be invested with the privilege of exercising it!
Mrs Chick was yet drying her eyes and shaking her head, when Richards made bold to caution her that Miss Florence was awake and sitting in her bed. She had risen, as the nurse said, and the lashes of her eyes were wet with tears. But no one saw them glistening save Polly. No one else leant over her, and whispered soothing words to her, or was near enough to hear the flutter of her beating heart.
'Oh! dear nurse!' said the child, looking earnestly up in her face, 'let me lie by my brother!'
'Why, my pet?' said Richards.
'Oh! I think he loves me,' cried the child wildly. 'Let me lie by him. Pray do!'
Mrs Chick interposed with some motherly words about going to sleep like a dear, but Florence repeated her supplication, with a frightened look, and in a voice broken by sobs and tears.
'I'll not wake him,' she said, covering her face and hanging down her head. 'I'll only touch him with my hand, and go to sleep. Oh, pray, pray, let me lie by my brother to-night, for I believe he's fond of me!'
Richards took her without a word, and carrying her to the little bed in which the infant was sleeping, laid her down by his side. She crept as near him as she could without disturbing his rest; and stretching out one arm so that it timidly embraced his neck, and hiding her face on the other, over which her damp and scattered hair fell loose, lay motionless.
'Poor little thing,' said Miss Tox; 'she has been dreaming, I daresay.'
Dreaming, perhaps, of loving tones for ever silent, of loving eyes for ever closed, of loving arms again wound round her, and relaxing in that dream within the dam which no tongue can relate. Seeking, perhaps - in dreams - some natural comfort for a heart, deeply and sorely wounded, though so young a child's: and finding it, perhaps, in dreams, if not in waking, cold, substantial truth. This trivial incident had so interrupted the current of conversation, that it was difficult of resumption; and Mrs Chick moreover had been so affected by the contemplation of her own tolerant nature, that she was not in spirits. The two friends accordingly soon made an end of their tea, and a servant was despatched to fetch a hackney cabriolet for Miss Tox. Miss Tox had great experience in hackney cabs, and her starting in one was generally a work of time, as she was systematic in the preparatory arrangements.
'Have the goodness, if you please, Towlinson,' said Miss Tox, 'first of all, to carry out a pen and ink and take his number legibly.'
'Yes, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'Then, if you please, Towlinson,'said Miss Tox, 'have the goodness
to turn the cushion. Which,' said Miss Tox apart to Mrs Chick, 'is generally damp, my dear.'
'Yes, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'I'll trouble you also, if you please, Towlinson,' said Miss Tox, 'with this card and this shilling. He's to drive to the card, and is to understand that he will not on any account have more than the shilling.'
'No, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'And - I'm sorry to give you so much trouble, Towlinson,' said Miss Tox, looking at him pensively.
'Not at all, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'Mention to the man, then, if you please, Towlinson,' said Miss Tox, 'that the lady's uncle is a magistrate, and that if he gives her any of his impertinence he will be punished terribly. You can pretend to say that, if you please, Towlinson, in a friendly way, and because you know it was done to another man, who died.'
'Certainly, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'And now good-night to my sweet, sweet, sweet, godson,' said Miss Tox, with a soft shower of kisses at each repetition of the adjective; 'and Louisa, my dear friend, promise me to take a little something warm before you go to bed, and not to distress yourself!'
It was with extreme difficulty that Nipper, the black-eyed, who looked on steadfastly, contained herself at this crisis, and until the subsequent departure of Mrs Chick. But the nursery being at length free of visitors, she made herself some recompense for her late restraint.
'You might keep me in a strait-waistcoat for six weeks,' said Nipper, 'and when I got it off I'd only be more aggravated, who ever heard the like of them two Griffins, Mrs Richards?'
'And then to talk of having been dreaming, poor dear!' said Polly.
'Oh you beauties!' cried Susan Nipper, affecting to salute the door by which the ladies had departed. 'Never be a Dombey won't she? It's to be hoped she won't, we don't want any more such, one's enough.'
'Don't wake the children, Susan dear,' said Polly.
'I'm very much beholden to you, Mrs Richards,' said Susan, who was not by any means discriminating in her wrath, 'and really feel it as a honour to receive your commands, being a black slave and a mulotter. Mrs Richards, if there's any other orders, you can give me, pray mention 'em.'
'Nonsense; orders,' said Polly.
'Oh! bless your heart, Mrs Richards,' cried Susan, 'temporaries always orders permanencies here, didn't you know that, why wherever was you born, Mrs Richards? But wherever you was born, Mrs Richards,' pursued Spitfire, shaking her head resolutely, 'and whenever, and however (which is best known to yourself), you may bear in mind, please, that it's one thing to give orders, and quite another thing to take 'em. A person may tell a person to dive off a bridge head foremost into five-and-forty feet of water, Mrs Richards, but a person may be very far from diving.'
'There now,' said Polly, 'you're angry because you're a good little thing, and fond of Miss Florence; and yet you turn round on me, because there's nobody else.'
'It's very easy for some to keep their tempers, and be soft-spoken, Mrs Richards,' returned Susan, slightly mollified, 'when their child's made as much of as a prince, and is petted and patted till it wishes its friends further, but when a sweet young pretty innocent, that never ought to have a cross word spoken to or of it, is rundown, the case is very different indeed. My goodness gracious me, Miss Floy, you naughty, sinful child, if you don't shut your eyes this minute, I'll call in them hobgoblins that lives in the cock-loft to come and eat you up alive!'
Here Miss Nipper made a horrible lowing, supposed to issue from a conscientious goblin of the bull species, impatient to discharge the severe duty of his position. Having further composed her young charge by covering her head with the bedclothes, and making three or four angry dabs at the pillow, she folded her arms, and screwed up her mouth, and sat looking at the fire for the rest of the evening.
Though little Paul was said, in nursery phrase, 'to take a deal of notice for his age,' he took as little notice of all this as of the preparations for his christening on the next day but one; which nevertheless went on about him, as to his personal apparel, and that of his sister and the two nurses, with great activity. Neither did he, on the arrival of the appointed morning, show any sense of its importance; being, on the contrary, unusually inclined to sleep, and unusually inclined to take it ill in his attendants that they dressed him to go out.
It happened to be an iron-grey autumnal day, with a shrewd east wind blowing - a day in keeping with the proceedings. Mr Dombey represented in himself the wind, the shade, and the autumn of the christening. He stood in his library to receive the company, as hard and cold as the weather; and when he looked out through the glass room, at the trees in the little garden, their brown and yellow leaves came fluttering down, as if he blighted them.
Ugh! They were black, cold rooms; and seemed to be in mourning, like the inmates of the house. The books precisely matched as to size, and drawn up in line, like soldiers, looked in their cold, hard, slippery uniforms, as if they had but one idea among them, and that was a freezer. The bookcase, glazed and locked, repudiated all familiarities. Mr Pitt, in bronze, on the top, with no trace of his celestial origin' about him, guarded the unattainable treasure like an enchanted Moor. A dusty urn at each high corner, dug up from an ancient tomb, preached desolation and decay, as from two pulpits; and the chimney-glass, reflecting Mr Dombey and his portrait at one blow, seemed fraught with melancholy meditations.
The stiff and stark fire-irons appeared to claim a nearer relationship than anything else there to Mr Dombey, with his buttoned coat, his white cravat, his heavy gold watch-chain, and his creaking boots.
But this was before the arrival of Mr and Mrs Chick, his lawful relatives, who soon presented themselves.
'My dear Paul,' Mrs Chick murmured, as she embraced him, 'the beginning, I hope, of many joyful days!'
'Thank you, Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, grimly. 'How do you do, Mr John?'
'How do you do, Sir?' said Chick.
He gave Mr Dombey his hand, as if he feared it might electrify him. Mr Dombey tool: it as if it were a fish, or seaweed, or some such clammy substance, and immediately returned it to him with exalted politeness.
'Perhaps, Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, slightly turning his head in his cravat, as if it were a socket, 'you would have preferred a fire?'
'Oh, my dear Paul, no,' said Mrs Chick, who had much ado to keep her teeth from chattering; 'not for me.'
'Mr John,' said Mr Dombey, 'you are not sensible of any chill?'
Mr John, who had already got both his hands in his pockets over the wrists, and was on the very threshold of that same canine chorus which had given Mrs Chick so much offence on a former occasion, protested that he was perfectly comfortable.
He added in a low voice, 'With my tiddle tol toor rul' - when he was providentially stopped by Towlinson, who announced:
'Miss Tox!'
And enter that fair enslaver, with a blue nose and indescribably frosty face, referable to her being very thinly clad in a maze of fluttering odds and ends, to do honour to the ceremony.
'How do you do, Miss Tox?' said Mr Dombey.
Miss Tox, in the midst of her spreading gauzes, went down altogether like an opera-glass shutting-up; she curtseyed so low, in acknowledgment of Mr Dombey's advancing a step or two to meet her.
'I can never forget this occasion, Sir,' said Miss Tox, softly. ''Tis impossible. My dear Louisa, I can hardly believe the evidence of my senses.'
If Miss Tox could believe the evidence of one of her senses, it was a very cold day. That was quite clear. She took an early opportunity of promoting the circulation in the tip of her nose by secretly chafing it with her pocket handkerchief, lest, by its very low temperature, it should disagreeably astonish the baby when she came to kiss it.
The baby soon appeared, carried in great glory by Richards; while Florence, in custody of that active young constable, Susan Nipper, brought up the rear. Though the whole nursery party were dressed by this time in lighter mourning than at first, there was enough in the appearance of the bereaved children to make the day no brighter. The baby too - it might have been Miss Tox's nose - began to cry. Thereby, as it happened, preventing Mr Chick from the awkward fulfilment of a very honest purpose he had; which was, to make much of Florence. For this gentleman, insensible to the superior claims of a perfect Dombey (perhaps on account of having the honour to be united to a Dombey himself, and being familiar with excellence), really liked her, and showed that he liked her, and was about to show it in his own way now, when Paul cried, and his helpmate stopped him short
'Now Florence, child!' said her aunt, briskly, 'what are you doing, love? Show yourself to him. Engage his attention, my dear!'
The atmosphere became or might have become colder and colder, when Mr Dombey stood frigidly watching his little daughter, who, clapping her hands, and standing On tip-toe before the throne of his son and heir, lured him to bend down from his high estate, and look at her. Some honest act of Richards's may have aided the effect, but he did look down, and held his peace. As his sister hid behind her nurse, he followed her with his eyes; and when she peeped out with a merry cry to him, he sprang up and crowed lustily - laughing outright when she ran in upon him; and seeming to fondle her curls with his tiny hands, while she smothered him with kisses.
Was Mr Dombey pleased to see this? He testified no pleasure by the relaxation of a nerve; but outward tokens of any kind of feeling were unusual with him. If any sunbeam stole into the room to light the children at their play, it never reached his face. He looked on so fixedly and coldly, that the warm light vanished even from the laughing eyes of little Florence, when, at last, they happened to meet his.
It was a dull, grey, autumn day indeed, and in a minute's pause and silence that took place, the leaves fell sorrowfully.
'Mr John,' said Mr Dombey, referring to his watch, and assuming his hat and gloves. 'Take my sister, if you please: my arm today is Miss Tox's. You had better go first with Master Paul, Richards. Be very careful.'
In Mr Dombey's carriage, Dombey and Son, Miss Tox, Mrs Chick, Richards, and Florence. In a little carriage following it, Susan Nipper and the owner Mr Chick. Susan looking out of window, without intermission, as a relief from the embarrassment of confronting the large face of that gentleman, and thinking whenever anything rattled that he was putting up in paper an appropriate pecuniary compliment for herself.
Once upon the road to church, Mr Dombey clapped his hands for the amusement of his son. At which instance of parental enthusiasm Miss Tox was enchanted. But exclusive of this incident, the chief difference between the christening party and a party in a mourning coach consisted in the colours of the carriage and horses.
Arrived at the church steps, they were received by a portentous beadle.' Mr Dombey dismounting first to help the ladies out, and standing near him at the church door, looked like another beadle. A beadle less gorgeous but more dreadful; the beadle of private life; the beadle of our business and our bosoms.
Miss Tox's hand trembled as she slipped it through Mr Dombey's arm, and felt herself escorted up the steps, preceded by a cocked hat and a Babylonian collar. It seemed for a moment like that other solemn institution, 'Wilt thou have this man, Lucretia?' 'Yes, I will.'
'Please to bring the child in quick out of the air there,' whispered the beadle, holding open the inner door of the church.
Little Paul might have asked with Hamlet 'into my grave?' so chill and earthy was the place. The tall shrouded pulpit and reading desk; the dreary perspective of empty pews stretching away under the galleries, and empty benches mounting to the roof and lost in the shadow of the great grim organ; the dusty matting and cold stone slabs; the grisly free seats' in the aisles; and the damp corner by the bell-rope, where the black trestles used for funerals were stowed away, along with some shovels and baskets, and a coil or two of deadly-looking rope; the strange, unusual, uncomfortable smell, and the cadaverous light; were all in unison. It was a cold and dismal scene.
'There's a wedding just on, Sir,' said the beadle, 'but it'll be over directly, if you'll walk into the westry here.
Before he turned again to lead the way, he gave Mr Dombey a bow and a half smile of recognition, importing that he (the beadle) remembered to have had the pleasure of attending on him when he buried his wife, and hoped he had enjoyed himself since.
The very wedding looked dismal as they passed in front of the altar. The bride was too old and the bridegroom too young, and a superannuated beau with one eye and an eyeglass stuck in its blank companion, was giving away the lady, while the friends were shivering. In the vestry the fire was smoking; and an over-aged and over-worked and under-paid attorney's clerk, 'making a search,' was running his forefinger down the parchment pages of an immense register (one of a long series of similar volumes) gorged with burials. Over the fireplace was a ground-plan of the vaults underneath the church; and Mr Chick, skimming the literary portion of it aloud, by way of enlivening the company, read the reference to Mrs Dombey's tomb in full, before he could stop himself.
After another cold interval, a wheezy little pew-opener afflicted with an asthma, appropriate to the churchyard, if not to the church, summoned them to the font - a rigid marble basin which seemed to have been playing a churchyard game at cup and ball with its matter of fact pedestal, and to have been just that moment caught on the top of it. Here they waited some little time while the marriage party enrolled themselves; and meanwhile the wheezy little pew-opener - partly in consequence of her infirmity, and partly that the marriage party might not forget her - went about the building coughing like a grampus.
Presently the clerk (the only cheerful-looking object there, and he was an undertaker) came up with a jug of warm water, and said something, as he poured it into the font, about taking the chill off; which millions of gallons boiling hot could not have done for the occasion. Then the clergyman, an amiable and mild-looking young curate, but obviously afraid of the baby, appeared like the principal character in a ghost-story, 'a tall figure all in white;' at sight of whom Paul rent the air with his cries, and never left off again till he was taken out black in the face.
Even when that event had happened, to the great relief of everybody, he was heard under the portico, during the rest of the ceremony, now fainter, now louder, now hushed, now bursting forth again with an irrepressible sense of his wrongs. This so distracted the attention of the two ladies, that Mrs Chick was constantly deploying into the centre aisle, to send out messages by the pew-opener, while Miss Tox kept her Prayer-book open at the Gunpowder Plot, and occasionally read responses from that service.
During the whole of these proceedings, Mr Dombey remained as impassive and gentlemanly as ever, and perhaps assisted in making it so cold, that the young curate smoked at the mouth as he read. The only time that he unbent his visage in the least, was when the clergyman, in delivering (very unaffectedly and simply) the closing exhortation, relative to the future examination of the child by the sponsors, happened to rest his eye on Mr Chick; and then Mr Dombey might have been seen to express by a majestic look, that he would like to catch him at it.
It might have been well for Mr Dombey, if he had thought of his own dignity a little less; and had thought of the great origin and purpose of the ceremony in which he took so formal and so stiff a part, a little more. His arrogance contrasted strangely with its history.
When it was all over, he again gave his arm to Miss Tox, and conducted her to the vestry, where he informed the clergyman how much pleasure it would have given him to have solicited the honour of his company at dinner, but for the unfortunate state of his household affairs. The register signed, and the fees paid, and the pew-opener (whose cough was very bad again) remembered, and the beadle gratified, and the sexton (who was accidentally on the doorsteps, looking with great interest at the weather) not forgotten, they got into the carriage again, and drove home in the same bleak fellowship.
There they found Mr Pitt turning up his nose at a cold collation, set forth in a cold pomp of glass and silver, and looking more like a dead dinner lying in state than a social refreshment. On their arrival Miss Tox produced a mug for her godson, and Mr Chick a knife and fork and spoon in a case. Mr Dombey also produced a bracelet for Miss Tox; and, on the receipt of this token, Miss Tox was tenderly affected.
'Mr John,' said Mr Dombey, 'will you take the bottom of the table, if you please? What have you got there, Mr John?'
'I have got a cold fillet of veal here, Sir,' replied Mr Chick, rubbing his numbed hands hard together. 'What have you got there, Sir?'
'This,' returned Mr Dombey, 'is some cold preparation of calf's head, I think. I see cold fowls - ham - patties - salad - lobster. Miss Tox will do me the honour of taking some wine? Champagne to Miss Tox.'
There was a toothache in everything. The wine was so bitter cold that it forced a little scream from Miss Tox, which she had great difficulty in turning into a 'Hem!' The veal had come from such an airy pantry, that the first taste of it had struck a sensation as of cold lead to Mr Chick's extremities. Mr Dombey alone remained unmoved. He might have been hung up for sale at a Russian fair as a specimen of a frozen gentleman.
The prevailing influence was too much even for his sister. She made no effort at flattery or small talk, and directed all her efforts to looking as warm as she could.
'Well, Sir,' said Mr Chick, making a desperate plunge, after a long silence, and filling a glass of sherry; 'I shall drink this, if you'll allow me, Sir, to little Paul.'
'Bless him!' murmured Miss Tox, taking a sip of wine.
'Dear little Dombey!' murmured Mrs Chick.
'Mr John,' said Mr Dombey, with severe gravity, 'my son would feel and express himself obliged to you, I have no doubt, if he could appreciate the favour you have done him. He will prove, in time to come, I trust, equal to any responsibility that the obliging disposition of his relations and friends, in private, or the onerous nature of our position, in public, may impose upon him.'
The tone in which this was said admitting of nothing more, Mr Chick relapsed into low spirits and silence. Not so Miss Tox, who, having listened to Mr Dombey with even a more emphatic attention than usual, and with a more expressive tendency of her head to one side, now leant across the table, and said to Mrs Chick softly:
'Louisa!'
'My dear,' said Mrs Chick.
'Onerous nature of our position in public may - I have forgotten
the exact term.'
'Expose him to,' said Mrs Chick.
'Pardon me, my dear,' returned Miss Tox, 'I think not. It was more rounded and flowing. Obliging disposition of relations and friends in private, or onerous nature of position in public - may - impose upon him!'
'Impose upon him, to be sure,' said Mrs Chick.
Miss Tox struck her delicate hands together lightly, in triumph; and added, casting up her eyes, 'eloquence indeed!'
Mr Dombey, in the meanwhile, had issued orders for the attendance of Richards, who now entered curtseying, but without the baby; Paul being asleep after the fatigues of the morning. Mr Dombey, having delivered a glass of wine to this vassal, addressed her in the following words: Miss Tox previously settling her head on one side, and making other little arrangements for engraving them on her heart.
'During the six months or so, Richards, which have seen you an inmate of this house, you have done your duty. Desiring to connect some little service to you with this occasion, I considered how I could best effect that object, and I also advised with my sister, Mrs - '
'Chick,' interposed the gentleman of that name.
'Oh, hush if you please!' said Miss Tox.
'I was about to say to you, Richards,' resumed Mr Dombey, with an appalling glance at Mr John, 'that I was further assisted in my decision, by the recollection of a conversation I held with your husband in this room, on the occasion of your being hired, when he disclosed to me the melancholy fact that your family, himself at the head, were sunk and steeped in ignorance.
Richards quailed under the magnificence of the reproof.
'I am far from being friendly,' pursued Mr Dombey, 'to what is called by persons of levelling sentiments, general education. But it is necessary that the inferior classes should continue to be taught to know their position, and to conduct themselves properly. So far I approve of schools. Having the power of nominating a child on the foundation of an ancient establishment, called (from a worshipful company) the Charitable Grinders; where not only is a wholesome education bestowed upon the scholars, but where a dress and badge is likewise provided for them; I have (first communicating, through Mrs Chick, with your family) nominated your eldest son to an existing vacancy; and he has this day, I am informed, assumed the habit. The number of her son, I believe,' said Mr Dombey, turning to his sister and speaking of the child as if he were a hackney-coach, is one hundred and forty-seven. Louisa, you can tell her.'
'One hundred and forty-seven,' said Mrs Chick 'The dress, Richards, is a nice, warm, blue baize tailed coat and cap, turned up with orange coloured binding; red worsted stockings; and very strong leather small-clothes. One might wear the articles one's self,' said Mrs Chick, with enthusiasm, 'and be grateful.'
'There, Richards!' said Miss Tox. 'Now, indeed, you may be proud. The Charitable Grinders!'
'I am sure I am very much obliged, Sir,' returned Richards faintly, 'and take it very kind that you should remember my little ones.' At the same time a vision of Biler as a Charitable Grinder, with his very small legs encased in the serviceable clothing described by Mrs Chick, swam before Richards's eyes, and made them water.
'I am very glad to see you have so much feeling, Richards,' said Miss Tox.
'It makes one almost hope, it really does,' said Mrs Chick, who prided herself on taking trustful views of human nature, 'that there may yet be some faint spark of gratitude and right feeling in the world.'
Richards deferred to these compliments by curtseying and murmuring
her thanks; but finding it quite impossible to recover her spirits from the disorder into which they had been thrown by the image of her son in his precocious nether garments, she gradually approached the door and was heartily relieved to escape by it.
Such temporary indications of a partial thaw that had appeared with her, vanished with her; and the frost set in again, as cold and hard as ever. Mr Chick was twice heard to hum a tune at the bottom of the table, but on both occasions it was a fragment of the Dead March in Saul. The party seemed to get colder and colder, and to be gradually resolving itself into a congealed and solid state, like the collation round which it was assembled. At length Mrs Chick looked at Miss Tox, and Miss Tox returned the look, and they both rose and said it was really time to go. Mr Dombey receiving this announcement with perfect equanimity, they took leave of that gentleman, and presently departed under the protection of Mr Chick; who, when they had turned their backs upon the house and left its master in his usual solitary state, put his hands in his pockets, threw himself back in the carriage, and whistled 'With a hey ho chevy!' all through; conveying into his face as he did so, an expression of such gloomy and terrible defiance, that Mrs Chick dared not protest, or in any way molest him.
Richards, though she had little Paul on her lap, could not forget her own first-born. She felt it was ungrateful; but the influence of the day fell even on the Charitable Grinders, and she could hardly help regarding his pewter badge, number one hundred and forty-seven, as, somehow, a part of its formality and sternness. She spoke, too, in the nursery, of his 'blessed legs,' and was again troubled by his spectre in uniform.
'I don't know what I wouldn't give,' said Polly, 'to see the poor little dear before he gets used to 'em.'
'Why, then, I tell you what, Mrs Richards,' retorted Nipper, who had been admitted to her confidence, 'see him and make your mind easy.'
'Mr Dombey wouldn't like it,' said Polly.
'Oh, wouldn't he, Mrs Richards!' retorted Nipper, 'he'd like it very much, I think when he was asked.'
'You wouldn't ask him, I suppose, at all?' said Polly.
'No, Mrs Richards, quite contrairy,' returned Susan, 'and them two inspectors Tox and Chick, not intending to be on duty tomorrow, as I heard 'em say, me and Mid Floy will go along with you tomorrow morning, and welcome, Mrs Richards, if you like, for we may as well walk there as up and down a street, and better too.'
Polly rejected the idea pretty stoutly at first; but by little and little she began to entertain it, as she entertained more and more distinctly the forbidden pictures of her children, and her own home. At length, arguing that there could be no great harm in calling for a moment at the door, she yielded to the Nipper proposition.
The matter being settled thus, little Paul began to cry most piteously, as if he had a foreboding that no good would come of it.
'What's the matter with the child?' asked Susan.
'He's cold, I think,' said Polly, walking with him to and fro, and hushing him.
It was a bleak autumnal afternoon indeed; and as she walked, and hushed, and, glancing through the dreary windows, pressed the little fellow closer to her breast, the withered leaves came showering down.

小保罗从图德尔的血液中没有受到污染,每天长得愈来愈结实,愈来愈强壮。托克斯小姐每天也愈来愈热心地爱护他;董贝先生对她的忠诚十分赞赏,开始把她看作是一位天性善良、十分明白事理的女人;她的感情为她增光,应当得到鼓励。他不惜纡尊降贵,向她充分表示好感。不仅好几次特别有礼地向她鞠躬,甚至还通过她的妹妹郑重地转达他对她的谢意。“请告诉你的朋友,路易莎,她很好,”或者“请跟托克斯小姐说,路易莎,我谢谢她。”他对这位女士这样刮目相看,这给她留下了深刻的印象。
托克斯小姐时常让奇克夫人放心,对她说,跟那位可爱的婴孩的发育成长有关的一切事情,是她最感兴趣的,没有什么能超过它的了。她这样讲,已经成了一种习惯。观察托克斯小姐活动的人不需要取得确凿肯定的证词就可以得出同样的结论。她会怀着难以形容的满意心情主持这位年轻继承人的天真的用餐,那副神态就几乎像在这个款待中她跟理查兹共同享有所有权似的。在洗澡与穿着打扮这些小小的活动中,她热情地进行帮助。给孩子服用药物,唤起了她生性具有的强烈的同情心。有一次董贝先生被他的妹妹领到育儿室里来看他的儿子;托克斯小姐由于谦虚,急忙跑到一个碗柜里去躲避;这时候孩子正准备睡觉,穿着一件轻薄的亚麻短上衣,沿着理查兹的长外衣向上短时间地爬了一会儿;托克斯小姐在毫无所知的客人背后欣喜若狂,忍不住喊道,“他不是很漂亮吗,董贝先生,他不就是个丘比德①吗,先生?”然后神情慌乱,满脸通红,在柜子的门后几乎都要倒下去了。
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①丘比德(Cupid):罗马神话中的爱神,他的形象是一个背生双翼、手持弓箭的美童;因此,美丽的儿童或美少年常被称为丘比德。
“路易莎,”董贝先生有一次对他的妹妹说道,“我确实觉得应该在给保罗施洗礼的时候,给你的朋友送一点儿小小的纪念品。她从一开始就那么热心地为孩子操心出力,而且似乎完全明白自己的身份(我很遗憾地说,在这个世界上这是难能可贵的一种美德),我真愿意向她表示一点谢意。”
我们在这里并不是想要贬损托克斯小姐的美德,但需要提一下,在董贝先生的眼中——就像在那些有时能体察事理的其他人的眼中一样——,只有对他的地位表示适当尊敬的人,才能称得上具有明白自己身份的那份非凡的理解力。他们了解自己的美德并不比他们了解他在他面前卑躬屈节的美德更为重要。
“我亲爱的保罗,”他的妹妹回答道,“你对待托克斯小姐完全公道;我知道,像你这样洞察一切的人一定会这样做。我相信,在我国的语言中,如有四个字她尊敬得几乎达到了崇拜的地步的话,那么这四个字就是董贝父子。”
“唔,”董贝先生说道,“我相信这一点。这会给托克斯小姐增光。”
“至于说到纪念品,我亲爱的保罗,”他的妹妹继续说道,“我只想说一句话,就是,你给托克斯小姐不论什么东西,我相信她都会把它当作圣物一样珍视和收藏起来的。不过,亲爱的保罗,如果你愿意的话,那么你还可以用一种更使她高兴、更使她满意的方式来表示你对托克斯小姐的友好情谊的谢意。”
“什么方式?”董贝先生问道。
“就关系与影响来说,”奇克夫人继续说道,“选择教父自然是重要的。”
“我不知道为什么他们对我的儿子是重要的,”董贝先生冷若冰霜地说道。
“完全正确,我亲爱的保罗,”奇克夫人回答道;为了掩盖她突然改变主意,她就显示出异乎寻常的活泼;“这正是你应该说的。我原来就料想你不会说别的。我原先就知道这就是你的意见。”奇克夫人这时又奉承起来,一边没有很大把握地摸索着前进;“也许正因为这样,如果让托克斯小姐仅仅作为其他什么人的代表和替身,来充当可爱的孩子的教母,那么你可能是不会反对的。不用说,保罗,她将会把这看作是极为体面、极为光荣的事情来接受的。”
“路易莎,”董贝先生沉默了一会儿,说道,“不应该认为——”
“当然不应该,”奇克夫人急忙防止会遭到拒绝,“我从来不曾认为那是应该的。”
董贝先生不耐烦地看着她。
“别把我的心搅乱了,我亲爱的保罗,”他的妹妹说道,“因为这会毁了我。我的身体很不好。自从可怜的亲爱的范妮离开我们以后,我就一直觉得不舒服。”
董贝先生向他妹妹掏出来擦眼泪的手绢看了一眼,继续说道:
“我说,不应该认为。”
“我说,”奇克夫人嘟哝着说道,“我从来不曾想过那是应该的。”
“我的天,路易莎!”董贝先生说道。
“不,我亲爱的保罗,”她眼泪汪汪、尊严地抗辩道,“你确实应当允许我说话。我不像你那么聪明,那么能推理,那么能言善辩,等等。这一点我很明白。对我来说,这就更糟。可是如果我必须说最后几句话的话——保罗,在可怜的亲爱的范妮逝世以后,这最后几句话对你和我都必须是很庄严的——,我仍然要说,我从来不曾认为那是应该的。而且,”奇克夫人以愈益尊严的语气补充说道,仿佛她直到现在才把她最能把别人驳得一败涂地、无言以对的论据拿出来似的。“我•确•实从来不曾想过那是应该的。”
董贝先生走到窗子前面,又走回来。
“不应该认为,路易莎,”他说道(奇克夫人坚持到底,决不服,不断重复说道,“我知道不应该”,但是他没有理会),“没有好多人以为,谁担任了教父教母,我就会承认他(她)对我有什么权利,因此他们就会比托克斯小姐对我提出更多的权利。可是我不承认这种权利。我不承认任何这类事情。当时间到来的时候,保罗和我本人将有能力保持我们自己的财产;换句话说,公司将有能力保持它自己的财产,维护它自己的财产,把它的财产传给后代,并不需要任何这类平凡无奇的帮助。人们通常为他们的子女寻求那一类不相干的帮助,我却能够蔑视它;因为我希望我超越它。因此当保罗顺利地度过他的婴儿时代与孩童时代,当我看到他没有虚度光阴,将能胜任•他预定要担当的事业的时候,我就将称心满意了。他在以后的生涯中,当他积极地维护着公司的尊严与荣誉,并且,如果可能的话,加以扩展的时候,他将会结交他愿意结交的有权有势的朋友。在那时候来到之前,对他来说,也许有我就已经足够了,而且我就是他的一切。总而言之,我不希望有什么人介入我们之间。我宁愿向一位像你的朋友那样值得感谢的人表示我对她的劳务的谢意。因此,就让这件事这样办吧,我想,你的丈夫与我本人来充当教父,我们将会当得很好。”
在这极为庄严、极为郑重的谈话过程中,董贝先生真实地透露了他心中秘密的感情。他对介入他与他儿子之间的任何人都怀着难以形容的不信任。他傲慢地害怕有任何一个人与他争夺或与他分享孩子的尊敬与服从;他最近产生出一种深深的忧虑,就是他在改变和约束人们的意志方面并没有无限的能力;他同样强烈猜疑的是,他会遭遇到新的挫折与不幸;这些就是在这段时间中支配他心灵的主要思想感情。在他的这一生中,他从没有结交过一位朋友。他那对人冷淡、与人疏远的性格既没有寻求过一位朋友,也没有找到过一位朋友。现在,当这性格把它的全部力量有力地集中在体现父亲的关怀与野心的一部分计划上的时候,看来它那冰流仿佛并没有在这种影响下完全解冻,清澈地、自由地奔流,而只是融化了一会儿,以便容纳它的重荷,然后连它一起冻结成一个坚硬的大冰块。
托克斯小姐凭着她低微的身份被这样提升为小保罗的教母,从这个时候起就被选定并任命就职;董贝先生还进一步表示了他的愿望:这个拖延已久的仪式应该很快举行,不再推迟。他的妹妹原先没有指望能取得这样辉煌的成功,于是赶快离开,把这个消息告诉给她最好的朋友;董贝先生则独自留在他的图书室中。
育儿室里一点也不寂寞,因为奇克夫人与托克斯小姐正在那里亲密愉快地一起度过那个晚上;她们使苏珊•尼珀姑娘感到极为讨厌,因此这姑娘一有机会就在门后撇嘴做怪脸。在这个场合下她的感情是十分激动的,所以她觉得有必要采用这种方法使它们轻松一下,即使没有任何观众在场,她得不到任何同情的安慰也罢。就像古代的游侠骑士把他们情人的名字刻写在沙漠、旷野和没有任何人可能读到它们的其他荒野的地方来安慰心中的悬念一样,苏珊•尼珀向柜子和衣橱皱皱狮子鼻,向碗柜轻蔑地眨眨眼睛,向有柄的大石水罐嘲笑地斜眼瞅一瞅,并在走廊里反驳和谩骂。
不过,那两位侵犯他人权利的人却很有福气,对这位姑娘的情绪一无所知;她们看着小保罗被脱掉衣服,到户外散步,吃晚饭,上床睡觉,平安顺利地经过了所有这些阶段,然后在壁炉前面坐下来喝茶。由于波利作出善意努力的结果,两个孩子现在睡在同一个房间里;两位女士坐着喝茶的桌子正巧面对着两张小床,所以直到这时候她们才想起了弗洛伦斯。
“她睡得多熟啊!”托克斯小姐说道。
“是呀,您知道,我亲爱的,这一整天她搞了那么多的活动,”奇克夫人回答道,“一直在小保罗身边玩耍。”
“她是个奇怪的孩子,”托克斯小姐说道。
“我亲爱的,”奇克夫人低声回答道,“跟她妈妈一模一样!”
“真的吗?”托克斯小姐说道,“哎呀!”
托克斯小姐是用一种非常怜悯的声调说的,虽然她并不清楚为什么要用这样的声调,她只知道奇克夫人期望她这样说。
“弗洛伦斯永远、永远、永远也不会像董贝家里的人,”奇克夫人说道,“即使她活一千岁,也不会。”
托克斯小姐扬起眉毛,再次充满了怜悯。
“我为她感到很焦急,很烦恼,”奇克夫人端庄、贤惠地叹了一口气,说道,“我实在不知道她长大了会变成一个什么样的人,或者她将会有什么样的地位。她丝毫没能使她爸爸喜欢她。她这样不像董贝家里的人,谁又能指望她能使她爸爸喜欢她呢?”
托克斯小姐表露出一副神情,仿佛她觉得根本无法反驳这样令人信服的论断似的。
“您知道,这孩子的性格跟可怜的范妮一样,”奇克夫人满有信心地说道,“我敢说,她在今后的生活中永远也不会作出努力。永远不会!她永远不会曲曲弯弯,缠绕住她爸爸的心,就像那——”
“就像那常春藤一样?”托克斯小姐提示道。
“就像那常春藤一样,”奇克夫人同意道,“永远不会!她永远不会悄悄地藏到她爸爸慈爱的心窝中,安卧在那里,就像那——”
“就像那受惊的小鹿一样?”托克斯小姐提示道。
“就像那受惊的小鹿一样,”奇克夫人说道,“永远不会!
可怜的范妮!可是,我是多么爱她啊!”
“您自己可别太伤心了,我亲爱的,”托克斯小姐用安慰的声调说道。“唔,真是这样的!您太富于感情了!”
“我们人人都有自己的缺点,”奇克夫人哭泣着,摇着头,说道,“我敢说,我们人人都有。我决不能看不到她的缺点。我决不能说我没有看到。远不是这样。可是我是多么爱她啊!”
奇克夫人是一位平庸的、愚蠢的女人;与她相比,她的嫂子倒是一位具有女性智慧与温柔的天使;当奇克夫人回忆起那位夫人的时候,她采取了保护的、亲切的态度——与她生前时她对待她的态度完全一样——,并且完全相信她自己,欺骗她自己;由于宽大为怀而让她自己感到异常愉快,对她来说,这是多么使她感到满意的事啊!当我们是正确的时候,宽容是多么非凡愉快的美德!当我们是错误,而又完全不能证明我们是如何取得行使宽容的权利的时候,宽容也是使人很愉快的呀!
当奇克夫人还正在擦眼泪、摇着头的时候,理查兹大胆地提醒她注意,弗洛伦斯小姐醒来了,正坐在床上。这位奶妈说,她起来了,眼睫毛都被泪水沾湿了。但是除了波利以外,没有其他任何人看到它们正闪着光。没有其他任何人向她弯下身去,低声地对她说些安慰的话,或跟她挨得很近,可以听到她颤动的心房正在怦怦地跳动。
“啊!亲爱的奶妈!”孩子恳切地仰望着她的脸,说道,“让我躺在弟弟的身旁吧!”
“为什么,我的宝贝?”理查兹问道。
“啊!我觉得他爱我,”女孩子放声大哭起来。“让我躺在他的身旁吧。求求您!”
奇克夫人插进来,说了些像母亲般的话,要她像乖孩子那样去睡觉;可是弗洛伦斯还是露出受惊的神色,一遍又一遍地恳求着;她的声音不时被抽泣与眼泪所打断。
“我不会闹醒他,”她捂着脸,低着头,说道。“我只用我的手摸着他,然后睡去。啊,我求求你们,求求你们,让我今天躺在弟弟身旁吧,因为我相信他爱我!”
理查兹没有说一句话,把她抱起来,抱到那个婴孩睡觉的小床上,让她在他的身旁躺下。她尽量爬过去挨近他,不去打搅他的安息;然后她伸出一只胳膊,畏畏缩缩地搂着他的脖子,用另一只胳膊捂住她的脸;她那潮湿的、散乱的头发松散地落在她的脸上,她就这样一动不动地躺在那里。
“可怜的小东西,”托克斯小姐说道,“我想,她一定梦见什么了。”
这件小事破坏了谈话的头绪,很难使它恢复了;加上奇克夫人又沉思她自己那宽容的性格,心神分散,这时情绪不高。因此两位朋友很快就结束了喝茶,派遣一位仆人为托克斯小姐雇用一辆出租的单马篷车。托克斯小姐在雇用出租马车方面是有丰富经验的,她在动身的时候通常总要占用好多时间,因为她事先要有条不紊地做好准备性的安排。
“劳驾您,托林森,”托克斯小姐说道,“首先请带上一支笔和墨水,把他的号码清楚地记下来。”
“一定照办,小姐,”托林森说道。
“然后,劳驾您,托林森,”托克斯小姐说道,“把椅垫翻过来。”托克斯小姐转过身去单独对奇克夫人说道,“它通常是潮湿的,我亲爱的。”
“一定照办,小姐,”托林森说道。
“我还得麻烦您带上这张名片和一个先令,”托克斯小姐说道,“他必须把我送到名片上列出的地址,而且还必须明白,除了这个先令之外,他无论如何也不能要求我给更多的钱了。”
“一定照办,小姐,”托林森说道。
“还有,我很抱歉,给您添了这么多麻烦,托林森,”托克斯小姐若有所思地看着他。
“一点也不,小姐,”托林森说道。
“那么,劳驾您,托林森,请跟车夫说,”托克斯小姐说道,“这位夫人的舅舅是一位治安法庭的法官,如果他要对她稍有一点无礼的话,那么他就会受到严厉的惩罚。如果您愿意的话,托林森,您可以假装用一种友好的口吻对他说这件事,因为您知道,过去曾经这样处治过另一位车夫,他已经死了。”
“毫无问题,一定照办,”托林森说道。
“好啦,现在我祝我亲爱的,亲爱的,亲爱的教子晚安,再见了,”托克斯小姐说道,她每当重复说一次那个形容词的时候,都要伴送出一阵阵温柔的吻。“还有,路易莎,我亲爱的朋友,请答应我,在睡觉前喝点儿温暖的东西,同时自己别太伤心了!”
在奇克夫人随后离开之前,一直在密切注视着黑眼睛的尼珀,在这关键性的时刻,她很困难地克制着自己。但是当育儿室终于摆脱了这两位来客之后,她对自己刚才所受的压抑多少进行了一些补偿。
“你可以让我穿紧身衣①穿上六个星期,”尼珀说道,“而当我把它脱掉的时候,我只会更加发怒。理查兹大嫂,有谁听说过有像她们这两个格里芬②一样的吗?”
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①紧身衣(stait-waistcoat):是管制疯人和囚犯的一种衣服。
②格里芬(Griffin):希腊神话中的鹫头飞狮。这里指怪物。
“还说一定梦见什么了,可怜的乖乖!”波利说道。
“哼,您们这两位美人!”苏珊•尼珀向两位女士离开的那扇门故意敬了一个礼,喊道,“她永远也不会像董贝家里的人,是不是?希望她不会。一位已足够了,我们不想再要这样的人了。”
“别把孩子吵醒了,亲爱的苏珊,”波利说道。
“我对您十分感谢,理查兹大嫂,”苏珊说道,她在愤怒之中是不分青红皂白的,“我是一个黑奴,是一个白人与黑人所生的混血儿,接受您的命令我真感到荣幸。理查兹大嫂,如果还有什么其他命令您可以向我下达的,那就请说吧!”
“胡说!哪里是什么命令!”波利说道。
“啊!上帝保佑您的心,理查兹大嫂,”苏珊喊道,“干临时性活的人在这里总是命令干长期性活的人,难道您这一点也不知道吗?那么说您是在什么地方出生的呢,理查兹大嫂?可是,不论您是在什么地方出生的,理查兹大嫂,”喷火器坚决地摇着头,继续说道,“也不论您是在什么时候出生的和怎样出生的(这一点您自己最清楚了),请您记住,下达命令是一回事,接受命令又是另外一回事。一个人可以告诉另一个人头朝下,从桥上往下跳,跳到四十五英尺深的水里去,理查兹大嫂,但是这另一个人可能根本就不想跳水。”
“您看,”波利说道,“您生气了,因为您是一位善良的小人儿,而且喜爱弗洛伦斯小姐;但是由于这里没有别的人,您就冲着我出气了。”
“对有些人来说,捺住性子,说话温柔,是一件很容易的事,理查兹大嫂,”苏珊气有些消了,回答道,“因为这时候她们的孩子受到了像王子一样的对待,被宠爱,被爱抚,直到孩子希望有别的朋友为止。可是一位可爱的、漂亮的、天真的小女孩子,本来不应当当面对她说一句坏话,也不应当在背后议论她一句坏话的,却受到了不正当的指责,这情况确实是大不相同的了。哎呀,我的天哪!弗洛伊小姐,您这淘气的、造孽的孩子,要是您不在这1分钟内闭上您的眼睛的话,那么我就要把住在顶楼里的妖魔叫进来,把您活活地吃掉啦!”
这时尼珀哞哞地发出了令人毛骨悚然的叫声,好像是从一个叫声逼真的、公牛一类的妖魔那里发出似的,它正急不可耐地想要去执行它的严厉的任务。她用被子把孩子的头给蒙住,又在枕头上愤怒地敲了3、4下,使她这位年幼的被抚养人进一步安定下来,然后,她交叉着两臂,噘着嘴,整个晚上坐在那里望着炉火。
  虽然,用育儿室里的话来说,小保罗,“就他的年龄来说,已经懂得不少事了”,可是他对后天给他施洗礼的准备工作却还是什么也不懂,虽然这些准备工作(包括他自己的服装,以及他姐姐和两位保姆的服装)在他身旁忙碌地进行着。在指定的那一天的早上来临的时候,他也丝毫没有表示意识到它的重要性;相反的,他异乎寻常地想睡,当他的服侍人员给他穿衣服,准备带他到户外去的时候,他异乎寻常地抱怨她们。
  这是个铁灰色的秋天的日子,吹刮着刺骨的东风;这天的气候与这天事件进行的情况倒是协调的。董贝先生本人体现施洗礼的风、阴影和秋天。他站在图书室中,等着接待客人,神情像秋天一样森严与冷淡;当他穿过玻璃房望着小花园中的树木时,树上褐色和黄色的叶子纷纷飘落,仿佛是他使它们枯萎似的。
  嘿!这是些阴郁的、寒冷的房间,似乎像住在房屋里的人一样,正在服丧。严格按照大小搭配、排列成行的书籍,像穿着冰冷的、坚硬的、滑溜的制服的士兵一样,仿佛全都只有一个思想,就是都想到了冷冻机。装上玻璃、上了锁的书橱,不允许人们随便去亲近书籍。书橱上皮特先生①的铜像(对他的入圣超凡的出身探寻不到什么线索),像个有魔力的摩尔人一样,守卫着这些难以得到的珍藏。书橱的两个顶角上各摆着一个从古墓中挖掘出来的、积满灰尘的瓮,它们仿佛从两个讲道坛上向下宣讲着荒凉与衰微的道理。壁炉上的镜子同时反映出董贝先生与他的肖像画,他们似乎充满了忧郁的沉思。
  --------
  ①皮特先生(Mr.Pitt):这里不知狄更斯是指查塔姆·皮特(Chathampitt)(1708—1778年)还是指他的儿子威廉·皮特(WilliamPitt)(1759—1806年),两人都是在奠定英国殖民制度方面很有影响的人物。
  在那里所有的东西当中,生硬、呆板的壁炉火钳和火铲看到董贝先生穿着扣上钮扣的上衣,围着白色的领带,系着沉甸甸的金表链,穿着走起来吱嘎吱嘎作响的皮靴,仿佛想要跟他攀上更为亲近的亲戚关系似的。但这是在他的合法的亲戚奇克先生与奇克夫人来到之前的事情。他们两位不久就出现在他的面前。
  “我亲爱的保罗,”奇克夫人拥抱着他,低声说道,“我希望,这是许多快乐的日子开始的一天!”
  “谢谢你,路易莎,”董贝先生阴沉地说道,“您好,约翰先生!”
  “您好,先生!”奇克说道。
  他向董贝先生伸出一只手去,仿佛他怕它会使他触电似的。董贝先生握着它就仿佛它是一条鱼,或海藻,或这一类滑腻的东西似的,立刻彬彬有礼地递还给他。
  “也许,路易莎,”董贝先生说道;他把他的头在领带中稍稍地转了转,仿佛那领带是一个插口似的,“你想把炉子点着了?”
  “啊,我亲爱的保罗,不,”奇克夫人说道,她好不容易才使牙齿不打颤;“不用为我点。”
  “约翰先生,”董贝先生说道,“您不觉得冷吗?”
  约翰先生早已把两只手深深地插进了衣袋,这时正要开始唱那支狗吠般的合唱歌曲(它上一次曾惹得奇克夫人十分恼火),于是声明说,他感到十分舒适。
  接着,他又低声地哼着,“和我的脚步不稳的托图鲁……”这时他很幸运地被托林森打断了;托林森通报道:
  “托克斯小姐!”
  那位勾引男人的美人进来了,她鼻子发青,脸孔冻得难以形容,因为她为了使仪式增添光彩,衣服穿得十分单薄,身上令人眼花缭乱地飘着好多布带。
  “您好,托克斯小姐,”董贝先生说道。
  托克斯小姐在向四周伸展的薄纱中间,像看戏用的望远镜缩拢时那样,身子往下低了一截;因为董贝先生向前走了一两步去迎接她,所以她行屈膝礼行得很低,表示感谢。
  “我永远也不会忘记这一天,先生,”托克斯小姐温柔地说道,“这是不可能忘记的。我亲爱的路易莎,我几乎都不能相信我的感官所提供的证明了。”
  如果托克斯小姐能相信她所有的感官当中的一个感官所提供的证明的话,那么这就是:这是很冷的一天。这一点十分清楚。她趁早抓住机会用手绢悄悄地把鼻尖擦热,以便改善它的血液循环,唯恐由于它的温度很低,当她去吻婴孩时,它会使他不愉快地吃惊。
  婴孩不久就花团锦簇地被抱来了;弗洛伦斯则在她灵敏的年轻警察苏珊·尼珀的保护下,走在后面。虽然育儿室里所有的人这时穿着的丧服颜色比上次浅淡,但是失去母亲的孩子的表情并不能使这一天明朗起来。况且婴孩又开始大哭起来(也许是因为托克斯小姐的鼻子的缘故)。由于这个原因,奇克先生只好放弃了他原先不合时宜地想要实现的一个善良的意愿,就是想称赞一下弗洛伦斯。因为这位先生对于对一位完美无缺的董贝家里的人要有很高的要求这一点并不敏感(也许是因为他本人有幸与一位董贝家里的人缔结良缘,对她卓越的优点已经熟知惯见了),真正喜欢弗洛伦斯,也不掩饰喜欢她,现在正准备按他自己的方式来表示这一点的时候,保罗大哭起来了,他的妻子突然制止了他。
  “弗洛伦斯,我的孩子!”她的姑妈活泼地说道,“你现在在干什么,我亲爱的?让他看到你。吸引住他的注意力,我亲爱的孩子!”
  董贝先生站在那里冷淡地看着他的小女儿在他的儿子和继承人的宝座前拍着手,踮着脚尖,引诱他从他那高贵的地位上弯下身去看着她,这时候气氛或许可能已经变得愈来愈冷了。理查兹做的某些可嘉的动作也许也帮着起了作用,不管怎么样,反正他在这时往下看了,并且宁静下来了。当他的姐姐躲藏到他的奶妈身后时,他的眼睛跟随着她;当她探出头来向他发出快活的叫声时,他跳起来,活泼地欢叫着——当她向他跑过去的时候,他放声大笑;当她吻得他透不过气来的时候,他似乎用他的小手抚弄着她的卷发。
  董贝先生喜欢看到这种情况吗?他没有放松一根神经来表示他的高兴;但是把任何感情向外表露出来,对他来说是不常有的事情。如果孩子在游戏的时候,阳光偷偷地照射进来的话,那么那光线也决不会照到他的脸上。他不动声色地、冷淡地看着;当小弗洛伦斯的眼光与他的眼光终于相遇的时候,那温暖的光线甚至从她那欢笑的眼睛中也消失了。
  这确实是一个沉闷的、灰色的、秋天的日子。在接着的片刻的沉默中,叶子从树上悲伤地掉落下来。
  “约翰先生,”董贝先生看了看表,拿起帽子和手套,说道,“请您挽着我的妹妹;我的手今天是属于托克斯小姐的。
  理查兹,您最好跟保罗少爷先走,请格外小心。”
  董贝先生的四轮马车中坐着董贝父子,托克斯小姐,奇克夫人,理查兹与弗洛伦斯。在后面的一辆小的四轮马车中,坐着苏珊·尼珀和马车的主人奇克先生。苏珊一直不间断地望着窗外,以便摆脱面对那位先生大脸时感到局促不安的局面:每当有什么东西发出卡嗒卡嗒的声音的时候,她就想,他正在纸袋中装钱,作为给她的赠礼。
  在去教堂的路途中,有一次董贝先生拍拍手,来跟他的儿子开心逗趣。托克斯小姐看到他表露出父亲的热情,感到心醉神迷了。除了这件事情之外,出发去施洗礼的人们与出殡车中的人们之间的主要区别只在于马车与马匹的颜色不同而已。
  一位妄自尊大的教区事务员在教堂台阶前迎接他们。董贝先生首先下了马车,并搀扶女士们下车;他在教堂门口站在那位教区事务员旁边,看上去就像是另一位教区事务员,——一位衣服不那么华丽、但却更为可怕的教区事务员;一位私人生活中的教区事务员;一位我们业务中与我们心中的教区事务员。
  托克斯小姐把手悄悄地伸进董贝先生的胳膊中的时候,她的手颤抖了;她觉得自己被护送着走上台阶,跟随着一顶三角帽和一个巴比伦衣领①后面。片刻之间,她仿佛觉得这像是另一个庄严的仪式,“您愿意嫁给这位男子吗,卢克丽霞?”“是的,我愿意。”
  “外面冷,请把孩子赶快抱进去,”教区事务员把教堂的门打开,低声说道。
  这地方是这么寒冷与泥土气,因此小保罗可能会跟哈姆雷特一起问道,“走进我的坟墓里去吗?”②。高高的讲道坛和读经台被布套覆盖着;空空的条凳式座位在楼座下伸展出去,冷冷清清;楼座上空空的长凳高高地挨近屋顶,消失在阴沉沉的大风琴的阴影之中;蹭鞋垫满是灰尘;石板冷冰冰的;走廊中的免费坐位气氛阴森;在钟绳近旁潮湿的角落里收藏着一个办丧事用的黑色支架,并堆放着几把铲子、几只篮子和一两卷形状可怕的绳子;还有那奇特的、异常的、难闻的气味和死尸般灰白色的光线,所有这一切都相互协调。这是寒冷、惨淡的景象。
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  ①巴比伦衣领:一种很宽大的衣领。
  ②见莎士比亚著名悲剧《哈姆雷特》第二幕第二场:
  波格涅斯:您要走进里边去吗,殿下?别让风吹着。
  哈姆雷特:走进我的坟墓里去吗?
  “现在正在举行婚礼,先生,”教区事务员说道,“但很快就完毕;请你们到这边祭服室里去。”
  在他转过身子领路之前,他向董贝先生鞠了一个躬,并表示认识地稍稍微笑了一下,这意味着他记得他曾经有幸在董贝先生为他的妻子举行殡葬的时候为他服务过,并希望他从那时以来生活过得愉快。
  当他们从圣坛前面经过的时候,那个婚礼看上去也是索然无趣的。新娘太老了,新郎太年轻了;一位上了年纪、穿着豪华的人充当男主婚人,他只有一只好的眼睛,另一只一动不动的眼睛上夹着一只单眼镜;他把新娘交给新郎;这时参加婚礼的朋友们都冷得直打哆嗦。祭服室里的壁炉中冒着烟;一位年龄过老、工作过度、薪俸微薄的事务律师办事员用食指在一本很大的登记册(这是许多类似卷册中的一本)的羊皮纸页上从上到下“进行寻找”。册子上密密麻麻地记满了埋葬的资料。在壁炉上方是教堂下面安放骨灰的地下灵堂的平面图;奇克先生用一种使在场的人们开心的方式,匆匆地朗读着图中的文字说明,直到把董贝夫人坟墓的注释全文念完以后,才停下来。
  经过了另外一段寒冷的沉默之后,一位年轻的、呼哧呼哧喘着气的教堂领座人跑来召唤他们到洗礼盘那里去;她患气喘病,如果说她在教堂工作是不合适的话,那么她在教堂墓地工作倒是合适的。当参加婚礼的人们正在登记姓名的时候,他们在那里稍稍等候了一会儿。这时候,那位年轻的、呼哧呼哧喘着气的教堂领座人在这座房屋中走来走去,像逆戟鲸似地大声咳嗽,部分原因是由于她患病的结果,另一部分原因是为了使参加婚礼的人们不会忘记她。
  不久,教堂的文书(他是这里唯一神色愉快的人,而·他是一位殡仪事业的经营人)拿着一大壶温水走来;当他把它倒进洗礼盘里去的时候,他说了一些驱除寒冷的话,虽然这时候即使倒进几百万加仑的开水也是难以达到这个目的的。然后教士(他是一位和蔼可亲、神色温厚的年轻副牧师,显然有些害怕婴孩)像鬼怪故事中的主角一样,“高高的个儿,全身穿着白衣服”进来了。保罗一看到他,就响声震天地大哭,直到他脸色发青,从洗礼盘中抱出为止。
  甚至当完成了这件事情,在场的每一个人都感到极大宽慰的时候,在仪式继续进行下去的其余时间中,在门廊里也还能听到他的哭声,有时轻一些,有时响一些,有时沉寂下去,有时又因为深感受到极大委屈,难以抑制,所以突然又重新大哭起来。这使两位女士极大地分散了注意力:奇克夫人不断到中心走廊去,通过教堂领座人转达她的吩咐,托克斯小姐则把祈祷书翻到有关火药阴谋①的那一段,有时读着仪式中的应答辞。
  --------
  ①火药阴谋(GunpowderPlot):1665年英国天主教徒企图杀死国王詹姆斯一世,毁掉国会。他们事先把火药放在国会大厅的地窖里,准备在国王召开会议时进行爆炸,但走漏了消息,没有成功。英国国教为此规定每年11月5日特为这一阴谋遭到失败,向上帝表示感谢而举行祈祷。当时负责进行爆炸的英国天主教徒是盖·福克斯(GuyFawks,1570—1606年)。
  在仪式的全部过程中,董贝先生仍然像往常一样毫无热情,保持着绅士派头;也许有他在场,气候变得更加寒冷,那位年轻的副牧师念词的时候,嘴里都吐出了一团团的水汽。只有一次他的表情有一点点变化,就是当教士很真诚很纯朴地发表最后的训诫,谈到今后教父对孩子的教养问题时,眼光恰好落在奇克先生身上,这时候可以看到,董贝先生神色威严地表示,他愿意请他来担任这个任务。
  董贝先生十分拘泥于形式、十分僵硬死板地参加了这个仪式;如果他对他自己的尊严少想一些,对仪式的伟大的起源与目的多想一些,那么对他也许是很好的。他的傲慢自大与这一仪式的历史形成了奇怪的对比。
  当一切都已进行完毕的时候,他又把胳膊向托克斯小姐伸过去,并护送她到祭服室;他在那里对教士说,若不是由于他家中遭到不幸,他本会十分高兴在家中设宴,恭请他光临的。他们在登记册上签了名,支付了费用,也记起了那位教堂领座人(她这时又很厉害地咳嗽了),酬谢了教区事务员,也没有忘记那位教堂司事①(他偶然地坐在门阶上,极有兴趣地看着天气),然后他们又坐进了马车(车中的人员搭配跟先前一样毫无生趣),并被拉回家中。
  --------
  ①教堂司事(sexton):担任教堂内外管理、敲钟、墓地等工作的人员。
  他们在家里看到皮特先生翘着鼻子,露出一副瞧不起的神气,看着那摆在冰冷的、但却十分华丽的玻璃与银质器皿中的冷菜;这些冷菜看上去像是隆重祭奠死人的餐食,而不像是款待客人的佳肴。他们到家后,托克斯小姐取出一个有柄的大杯,赠送给她的教子,奇克先生则赠送了装在一个盒子中的一副刀、叉。董贝先生也赠送了一个手镯给托克斯小姐;托克斯小姐收到这个纪念品的时候,内心深深地感动。
  “约翰先生,”董贝先生说道,“如果您不见怪的话,请您坐在餐桌的末席好吗?您那里有些什么,约翰先生?”
  “我在这里有冷的小牛肉片,先生,”奇克先生使劲地搓着冻僵了的双手,回答道,“您那里有什么?”
  “我这里,”董贝先生回答道,“我看是冷的小牛的头,还有冷的鸡——火腿——小馅饼——色拉——龙虾。托克斯小姐,您肯赏光喝点酒吗?香槟酒,托克斯小姐。”
  所有的食品都会引起牙痛。酒又苦又冷,托克斯小姐忍不住轻轻地尖叫了一声,她又好不容易把它转变成一声“嗨!”。小牛肉片是从一个十分寒冷的食品储藏室中取来的;奇克先生尝了第一口,就产生一阵冷感,一直传到他的四肢。只有董贝先生一个人保持着不动声色的神情。他很可以作为一个冰冷的绅士的样品,挂在俄国集市上去出卖啊。
  当时的气氛连他的妹妹也受不了。她没有作出努力来说些奉承话或东拉西扯地闲聊,而是作出极大的努力,装出一副感到暖和的样子。
  “唔,先生”奇克先生毅然决然地努力试图打破长时间的沉默,倒满了一杯雪利酒,说道,“如果您允许的话,那么我想喝这一杯为小保罗祝福。”
  “上帝保佑他!”托克斯小姐喝了一小口酒,说道。
  “亲爱的小董贝!”奇克夫人低声说道。
  “奇克先生,”董贝先生严肃认真地说道,“毫无疑问,如果我的儿子能赞赏您对他所表示的好意的话,那么他一定会感觉到这一点,并向您表示感谢的。在未来的岁月中,他的亲友们从私人的角度,善意地希望他担负起他的责任,而我们的地位由于具有承担义务的性质,所以从公众的角度,又可能强加于他,要求他担负起他的责任;我相信,他将证明他有能力担负起这些责任。”
  讲这些话的语气是不容许别人再多说些什么话的,所以奇克先生重新陷入低沉的情绪与沉默之中。托克斯小姐却不是这样,她比平时更加聚精会神地听着董贝先生,头更加富于表情地歪向另一边;这时她从桌子上面弯过身子,轻声地对奇克夫人说:
  “路易莎!”
  “我亲爱的,”奇克夫人说道。
  “我们的地位由于具有承担义务的性质,所以从公众的角度,又可能——我记不清那个词了。”
  “相加,”奇克夫人说道。
  “对不起,我亲爱的,”托克斯小姐回答道,”我想不是;那个词念起来更圆滑更流畅一些。亲友们从私人的角度,善意地希望他担负起他的责任,而我们的地位由于具有承担义务的性质,所以从公众的角度,又可能强加于他,要求他担负起他的责任!”
  “强加于他,完全正确,”奇克夫人说道。
  托克斯小姐胜利地轻轻拍着她娇嫩的手;然后又眼睛向上仰望着,说道,“真是了不起的口才!”
  在这同时,董贝先生吩咐把理查兹喊来;她这时进来了,行了个屈膝礼,但没有抱着婴孩;保罗经过早上的劳累之后,已经睡着了。董贝先生向这位仆人递过一杯酒之后,向她说了以下一些话(托克斯小姐预先把头歪向一边,又作了一些小小的准备,以便把这些话铭记在心头):
  “在6个月的时间里,理查兹,您一直待在这个屋子里,完成了您的职责。我想在今天这个日子向您表示一点小小的心意;我曾经考虑怎么才能最好地达到这个目的,我也跟我的妹妹商量过,也就是——”
  “奇克夫人,”姓那个姓的先生插进来说道。
  “嘘,别作声,请求您!”托克斯小姐说道。
  “我想对您说,理查兹,”董贝先生令人可怕地向约翰先生看了一眼,继续说道,“我记得在雇用您的那一天,我跟您丈夫在这个房间里谈过话,这个回忆促使我下了决心;他在那次谈话中向我透露了一个令人伤心的事实,就是以他为首的你们全家人缺乏教育,一点知识也没有。”
  理查兹在这庄严的指责下垂头丧气。
  “有些主张消除人们之间差别的人士所称的普通教育,”董贝先生继续说道,“我对它是很没有好感的。但有必要继续教育那些低贱阶级的人们明白他们的身份,规规矩矩地为人处世。由于这个原因,我赞成开设学校。有一所称为‘慈善的磨工’的历史悠久的学校(取这个名字是为了纪念一个值得崇敬的团体)①,我有权向它提名一个孩子,享受奖学金;那所学校不仅向学生进行有益于身心的教育,而且还发给他们服装和徽章。我已经提名您的大儿子作为一名奖学金名额的候选人,并事先通过奇克夫人和您的家庭联系过。我得到的消息是,他今天已经穿上学校的制服了。他儿子的号码我想是,”董贝先生转向他的妹妹说道;他谈起这个孩子的时候,仿佛他是一辆出租马车似的,“147,路易莎,您可以告诉她。”
  --------
  ①慈善的磨工(theCharitableGrinders):建立于18世纪的一个慈善宗教团体,它对上流社会所选择的孩子们提供一些必需的物质帮助。
  “147,”奇克夫人说道,“理查兹,那服装包括:一件漂亮的、暖和的、蓝色桌面呢做的燕尾服,一顶有桔红色滚边、向上翻起的帽子,一双红色的绒线长袜和一条很结实的皮短裤,”奇克夫人热情洋溢地说道,“一个学生可以满怀感激地自己穿上这些服装。”
  “看,理查兹!”托克斯小姐说道,“现在您确实·可·以感到自豪了。慈善的磨工!”
  “说实在的,我很感谢您,先生,”理查兹轻声地回答道,“我觉得您的心真好,还记得我的小家伙。”这时候在她的眼前浮现出了拜勒的景象:他成了一位慈善的磨工,奇克夫人所描述的结实耐穿的短裤裹着他的很小的腿;这使她的眼睛流出了泪水。
  “看到您这样富有感情我很高兴,理查兹,”托克斯小姐说道。
  “确实,这几乎使我们可以希望,”奇克夫人说道,她由于对人性采取信任的态度而感到自豪,“世界上仍然可能还会有一些感激与正确感情的微弱火花。”
  理查兹行屈膝礼,并低声说着谢谢来回答这些夸奖,但是她儿子穿着跟他的年龄不相称的裤子的形象已经把她的心情搅得十分慌乱,她觉得很难使它恢复平静,所以就慢慢地往门口走去;当她从门中溜出来的时候,她心中感到极大的轻松。
  那些随她而来的部分解冻的暂时迹象又随她离开而消失了;冰冻重新来临,像先前一样寒冷与严酷。大家听到奇克先生已经两次在餐桌的末席哼着曲调,不过两次都是《扫罗》①中丧礼进行曲的片断。餐桌上的人们似乎变得愈来愈冷,逐渐转变成凝结与固体的状态,就像他们围坐着的冷盘一样。最后,奇克夫人向托克斯小姐看了一眼,托克斯小姐又向她回看了一眼,然后她们站起来说,是真该走的时候了。由于董贝先生沉着冷静、若无其事地对待这个通告,她们就向这位先生告辞,不久就在奇克先生的保护下回家了。当他们转身离开那座公馆,把它的主人像往常一样独自一人留下来的时候,奇克先生把手插进衣袋,在马车里把背往后一靠,一路上吹着“嗨嗬,往前快跑!”的口哨,满脸露出一副忧闷的、可怕的、轻蔑的神气;奇克夫人不敢提出抗议,或以任何方式使他烦恼。理查兹虽然把小保罗抱在膝上,但却不能忘记她的大儿子。她觉得这是忘恩负义的;但是这一天的整个气氛甚至在“慈善的磨工”身上也产生了影响;她不由自主地把他白镴制的徽章,第147号,也看成是这一天拘泥与严峻的气氛的一部分。她在育儿室中也谈到了他的“可爱的小腿”,同时他穿着制服时的怪影又搅得她心绪不宁。
  --------
  ①《扫罗》(Saul)是英籍德国作曲家亨德尔(GeorgeFridericHandel,1685—1759年)所写的清唱剧。
  “这可怜的小宝贝没有穿惯那裤子之前,我要是能去看看他的话,”波利说道,“那么我真不知道我有什么不愿给的。”
  “唔,那么,我来告诉您,理查兹大嫂,”尼珀回答道,她已取得了她的信任,“去看他,让您放下心来。”
  “董贝先生不喜欢我去看他,”波利说道。
  “唔,他不喜欢吗,理查兹大嫂!”尼珀回答道,“我想,如果您去问他的话,那么他是会很喜欢的。”
  “大概您根本就不会去问吧?”波利说道。
  “是的,理查兹大嫂,恰恰相反,”苏珊回答道,“我听托克斯和奇克这两位监察员说,她们明天不打算来上班了;弗洛伊小姐和我明天早上将和您一道去,如果您欢迎的话,那就请欢迎吧,因为我们会很高兴到那里去,就像到一条街上走来走去一样,而且还会高兴得多。”
  波利最初相当坚决地拒绝这个主意;但是当她的孩子们和她自己的家的禁图愈来愈清楚地呈现在她面前的时候,她就逐渐逐渐地愿意考虑它了。最后,她考虑在门口待一会儿不会有什么大的害处,所以就采纳了尼珀的建议。
  当事情这样决定之后,小保罗开始极为凄惨地大哭起来,仿佛他预感到这件事不会有什么好结果似的。
  “孩子怎么了?”苏珊问道。
  “他冷了,我想,”波利抱着他走来走去,一边拍着他,使他安静下来。
  这确实是一个萧瑟阴冷的秋天的下午;她走着,拍着他,使他安静下来,一边通过凄凉的窗子向外匆匆地看一眼,把这小家伙在胸前抱得更紧,这时枯萎的树叶正阵雨似地纷纷往下飘落。

慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 6
Paul's Second Deprivation
Polly was beset by so many misgivings in the morning, that but for the incessant promptings of her black-eyed companion, she would have abandoned all thoughts of the expedition, and formally petitioned for leave to see number one hundred and forty-seven, under the awful shadow of Mr Dombey's roof. But Susan who was personally disposed in favour of the excursion, and who (like Tony Lumpkin), if she could bear the disappointments of other people with tolerable fortitude, could not abide to disappoint herself, threw so many ingenious doubts in the way of this second thought, and stimulated the original intention with so many ingenious arguments, that almost as soon as Mr Dombey's stately back was turned, and that gentleman was pursuing his daily road towards the City, his unconscious son was on his way to Staggs's Gardens.
This euphonious locality was situated in a suburb, known by the inhabitants of Staggs's Gardens by the name of Camberling Town; a designation which the Strangers' Map of London, as printed (with a view to pleasant and commodious reference) on pocket handkerchiefs, condenses, with some show of reason, into Camden Town. Hither the two nurses bent their steps, accompanied by their charges; Richards carrying Paul, of course, and Susan leading little Florence by the hand, and giving her such jerks and pokes from time to time, as she considered it wholesome to administer.
The first shock of a great earthquake had, just at that period, rent the whole neighbourhood to its centre. Traces of its course were visible on every side. Houses were knocked down; streets broken through and stopped; deep pits and trenches dug in the ground; enormous heaps of earth and clay thrown up; buildings that were undermined and shaking, propped by great beams of wood. Here, a chaos of carts, overthrown and jumbled together, lay topsy-turvy at the bottom of a steep unnatural hill; there, confused treasures of iron soaked and rusted in something that had accidentally become a pond. Everywhere were bridges that led nowhere; thoroughfares that were wholly impassable; Babel towers of chimneys, wanting half their height; temporary wooden houses and enclosures, in the most unlikely situations; carcases of ragged tenements, and fragments of unfinished walls and arches, and piles of scaffolding, and wildernesses of bricks, and giant forms of cranes, and tripods straddling above nothing. There were a hundred thousand shapes and substances of incompleteness, wildly mingled out of their places, upside down, burrowing in the earth, aspiring in the air, mouldering in the water, and unintelligible as any dream. Hot springs and fiery eruptions, the usual attendants upon earthquakes, lent their contributions of confusion to the scene. Boiling water hissed and heaved within dilapidated walls; whence, also, the glare and roar of flames came issuing forth; and mounds of ashes blocked up rights of way, and wholly changed the law and custom of the neighbourhood.
In short, the yet unfinished and unopened Railroad was in progress; and, from the very core of all this dire disorder, trailed smoothly away, upon its mighty course of civilisation and improvement.
But as yet, the neighbourhood was shy to own the Railroad. One or two bold speculators had projected streets; and one had built a little, but had stopped among the mud and ashes to consider farther of it. A bran-new Tavern, redolent of fresh mortar and size, and fronting nothing at all, had taken for its sign The Railway Arms; but that might be rash enterprise - and then it hoped to sell drink to the workmen. So, the Excavators' House of Call had sprung up from a beer-shop; and the old-established Ham and Beef Shop had become the Railway Eating House, with a roast leg of pork daily, through interested motives of a similar immediate and popular description. Lodging-house keepers were favourable in like manner; and for the like reasons were not to be trusted. The general belief was very slow. There were frowzy fields, and cow-houses, and dunghills, and dustheaps, and ditches, and gardens, and summer-houses, and carpet-beating grounds, at the very door of the Railway. Little tumuli of oyster shells in the oyster season, and of lobster shells in the lobster season, and of broken crockery and faded cabbage leaves in all seasons, encroached upon its high places. Posts, and rails, and old cautions to trespassers, and backs of mean houses, and patches of wretched vegetation, stared it out of countenance. Nothing was the better for it, or thought of being so. If the miserable waste ground lying near it could have laughed, it would have laughed it to scorn, like many of the miserable neighbours.
Staggs's Gardens was uncommonly incredulous. It was a little row of houses, with little squalid patches of ground before them, fenced off with old doors, barrel staves, scraps of tarpaulin, and dead bushes; with bottomless tin kettles and exhausted iron fenders, thrust into the gaps. Here, the Staggs's Gardeners trained scarlet beans, kept fowls and rabbits, erected rotten summer-houses (one was an old boat), dried clothes, and smoked pipes. Some were of opinion that Staggs's Gardens derived its name from a deceased capitalist, one Mr Staggs, who had built it for his delectation. Others, who had a natural taste for the country, held that it dated from those rural times when the antlered herd, under the familiar denomination of Staggses, had resorted to its shady precincts. Be this as it may, Staggs's Gardens was regarded by its population as a sacred grove not to be withered by Railroads; and so confident were they generally of its long outliving any such ridiculous inventions, that the master chimney-sweeper at the corner, who was understood to take the lead in the local politics of the Gardens, had publicly declared that on the occasion of the Railroad opening, if ever it did open, two of his boys should ascend the flues of his dwelling, with instructions to hail the failure with derisive cheers from the chimney-pots.
To this unhallowed spot, the very name of which had hitherto been carefully concealed from Mr Dombey by his sister, was little Paul now borne by Fate and Richards
'That's my house, Susan,' said Polly, pointing it out.
'Is it, indeed, Mrs Richards?' said Susan, condescendingly.
'And there's my sister Jemima at the door, I do declare' cried Polly, 'with my own sweet precious baby in her arms!'
The sight added such an extensive pair of wings to Polly's impatience, that she set off down the Gardens at a run, and bouncing on Jemima, changed babies with her in a twinkling; to the unutterable astonishment of that young damsel, on whom the heir of the Dombeys seemed to have fallen from the clouds.
'Why, Polly!' cried Jemima. 'You! what a turn you have given me! who'd have thought it! come along in Polly! How well you do look to be sure! The children will go half wild to see you Polly, that they will.'
That they did, if one might judge from the noise they made, and the way in which they dashed at Polly and dragged her to a low chair in the chimney corner, where her own honest apple face became immediately the centre of a bunch of smaller pippins, all laying their rosy cheeks close to it, and all evidently the growth of the same tree. As to Polly, she was full as noisy and vehement as the children; and it was not until she was quite out of breath, and her hair was hanging all about her flushed face, and her new christening attire was very much dishevelled, that any pause took place in the confusion. Even then, the smallest Toodle but one remained in her lap, holding on tight with both arms round her neck; while the smallest Toodle but two mounted on the back of the chair, and made desperate efforts, with one leg in the air, to kiss her round the corner.
'Look! there's a pretty little lady come to see you,' said Polly; 'and see how quiet she is! what a beautiful little lady, ain't she?'
This reference to Florence, who had been standing by the door not unobservant of what passed, directed the attention of the younger branches towards her; and had likewise the happy effect of leading to the formal recognition of Miss Nipper, who was not quite free from a misgiving that she had been already slighted.
'Oh do come in and sit down a minute, Susan, please,' said Polly. 'This is my sister Jemima, this is. Jemima, I don't know what I should ever do with myself, if it wasn't for Susan Nipper; I shouldn't be here now but for her.'
'Oh do sit down, Miss Nipper, if you please,' quoth Jemima.
Susan took the extreme corner of a chair, with a stately and ceremonious aspect.
'I never was so glad to see anybody in all my life; now really I never was, Miss Nipper,' said Jemima.
Susan relaxing, took a little more of the chair, and smiled graciously.
'Do untie your bonnet-strings, and make yourself at home, Miss Nipper, please,' entreated Jemima. 'I am afraid it's a poorer place than you're used to; but you'll make allowances, I'm sure.'
The black-eyed was so softened by this deferential behaviour, that she caught up little Miss Toodle who was running past, and took her to Banbury Cross immediately.
'But where's my pretty boy?' said Polly. 'My poor fellow? I came all this way to see him in his new clothes.'
'Ah what a pity!' cried Jemima. 'He'll break his heart, when he hears his mother has been here. He's at school, Polly.'
'Gone already!'
'Yes. He went for the first time yesterday, for fear he should lose any learning. But it's half-holiday, Polly: if you could only stop till he comes home - you and Miss Nipper, leastways,' said Jemima, mindful in good time of the dignity of the black-eyed.
'And how does he look, Jemima, bless him!' faltered Polly.
'Well, really he don't look so bad as you'd suppose,' returned Jemima.
'Ah!' said Polly, with emotion, 'I knew his legs must be too short.'
His legs is short,' returned Jemima; 'especially behind; but they'll get longer, Polly, every day.'
It was a slow, prospective kind of consolation; but the cheerfulness and good nature with which it was administered, gave it a value it did not intrinsically possess. After a moment's silence, Polly asked, in a more sprightly manner:
'And where's Father, Jemima dear?' - for by that patriarchal appellation, Mr Toodle was generally known in the family.
'There again!' said Jemima. 'What a pity! Father took his dinner with him this morning, and isn't coming home till night. But he's always talking of you, Polly, and telling the children about you; and is the peaceablest, patientest, best-temperedest soul in the world, as he always was and will be!'
'Thankee, Jemima,' cried the simple Polly; delighted by the speech, and disappointed by the absence.
'Oh you needn't thank me, Polly,' said her sister, giving her a sounding kiss upon the cheek, and then dancing little Paul cheerfully. 'I say the same of you sometimes, and think it too.'
In spite of the double disappointment, it was impossible to regard in the light of a failure a visit which was greeted with such a reception; so the sisters talked hopefully about family matters, and about Biler, and about all his brothers and sisters: while the black-eyed, having performed several journeys to Banbury Cross and back, took sharp note of the furniture, the Dutch clock, the cupboard, the castle on the mantel-piece with red and green windows in it, susceptible of illumination by a candle-end within; and the pair of small black velvet kittens, each with a lady's reticule in its mouth; regarded by the Staggs's Gardeners as prodigies of imitative art. The conversation soon becoming general lest the black-eyed should go off at score and turn sarcastic, that young lady related to Jemima a summary of everything she knew concerning Mr Dombey, his prospects, family, pursuits, and character. Also an exact inventory of her personal wardrobe, and some account of her principal relations and friends. Having relieved her mind of these disclosures, she partook of shrimps and porter, and evinced a disposition to swear eternal friendship.
Little Florence herself was not behind-hand in improving the occasion; for, being conducted forth by the young Toodles to inspect some toad-stools and other curiosities of the Gardens, she entered with them, heart and soul, on the formation of a temporary breakwater across a small green pool that had collected in a corner. She was still busily engaged in that labour, when sought and found by Susan; who, such was her sense of duty, even under the humanizing influence of shrimps, delivered a moral address to her (punctuated with thumps) on her degenerate nature, while washing her face and hands; and predicted that she would bring the grey hairs of her family in general, with sorrow to the grave. After some delay, occasioned by a pretty long confidential interview above stairs on pecuniary subjects, between Polly and Jemima, an interchange of babies was again effected - for Polly had all this timeretained her own child, and Jemima little Paul - and the visitors took leave.
But first the young Toodles, victims of a pious fraud, were deluded into repairing in a body to a chandler's shop in the neighbourhood, for the ostensible purpose of spending a penny; and when the coast was quite clear, Polly fled: Jemima calling after her that if they could only go round towards the City Road on their way back, they would be sure to meet little Biler coming from school.
'Do you think that we might make time to go a little round in that direction, Susan?' inquired Polly, when they halted to take breath.
'Why not, Mrs Richards?' returned Susan.
'It's getting on towards our dinner time you know,' said Polly.
But lunch had rendered her companion more than indifferent to this grave consideration, so she allowed no weight to it, and they resolved to go 'a little round.'
Now, it happened that poor Biler's life had been, since yesterday morning, rendered weary by the costume of the Charitable Grinders. The youth of the streets could not endure it. No young vagabond could be brought to bear its contemplation for a moment, without throwing himself upon the unoffending wearer, and doing him a mischief. His social existence had been more like that of an early Christian, than an innocent child of the nineteenth century. He had been stoned in the streets. He had been overthrown into gutters; bespattered with mud; violently flattened against posts. Entire strangers to his person had lifted his yellow cap off his head, and cast it to the winds. His legs had not only undergone verbal criticisms and revilings, but had been handled and pinched. That very morning, he had received a perfectly unsolicited black eye on his way to the Grinders' establishment, and had been punished for it by the master: a superannuated old Grinder of savage disposition, who had been appointed schoolmaster because he didn't know anything, and wasn't fit for anything, and for whose cruel cane all chubby little boys had a perfect fascination.'
Thus it fell out that Biler, on his way home, sought unfrequented paths; and slunk along by narrow passages and back streets, to avoid his tormentors. Being compelled to emerge into the main road, his ill fortune brought him at last where a small party of boys, headed by a ferocious young butcher, were lying in wait for any means of pleasurable excitement that might happen. These, finding a Charitable Grinder in the midst of them - unaccountably delivered over, as it were, into their hands - set up a general yell and rushed upon him.
But it so fell out likewise, that, at the same time, Polly, looking hopelessly along the road before her, after a good hour's walk, had said it was no use going any further, when suddenly she saw this sight. She no sooner saw it than, uttering a hasty exclamation, and giving Master Dombey to the black-eyed, she started to the rescue of her unhappy little son.
Surprises, like misfortunes, rarely come alone. The astonished Susan Nipper and her two young charges were rescued by the bystanders from under the very wheels of a passing carriage before they knew what had happened; and at that moment (it was market day) a thundering alarm of 'Mad Bull!' was raised.
With a wild confusion before her, of people running up and down, and shouting, and wheels running over them, and boys fighting, and mad bulls coming up, and the nurse in the midst of all these dangers being torn to pieces, Florence screamed and ran. She ran till she was exhausted, urging Susan to do the same; and then, stopping and wringing her hands as she remembered they had left the other nurse behind, found, with a sensation of terror not to be described, that she was quite alone.
'Susan! Susan!' cried Florence, clapping her hands in the very ecstasy of her alarm. 'Oh, where are they? where are they?'
'Where are they?' said an old woman, coming hobbling across as fast as she could from the opposite side of the way. 'Why did you run away from 'em?'
'I was frightened,' answered Florence. 'I didn't know what I did. I thought they were with me. Where are they?'
The old woman took her by the wrist, and said, 'I'll show you.'
She was a very ugly old woman, with red rims round her eyes, and a mouth that mumbled and chattered of itself when she was not speaking. She was miserably dressed, and carried some skins over her arm. She seemed to have followed Florence some little way at all events, for she had lost her breath; and this made her uglier still, as she stood trying to regain it: working her shrivelled yellow face and throat into all sorts of contortions.
Florence was afraid of her, and looked, hesitating, up the street, of which she had almost reached the bottom. It was a solitary place - more a back road than a street - and there was no one in it but her- self and the old woman.
'You needn't be frightened now,' said the old woman, still holding her tight. 'Come along with me.'
'I - I don't know you. What's your name?' asked Florence.
'Mrs Brown,' said the old woman. 'Good Mrs Brown.'
'Are they near here?' asked Florence, beginning to be led away.
'Susan ain't far off,' said Good Mrs Brown; 'and the others are close to her.'
'Is anybody hurt?' cried Florence.
'Not a bit of it,' said Good Mrs Brown.
The child shed tears of delight on hearing this, and accompanied the old woman willingly; though she could not help glancing at her face as they went along - particularly at that industrious mouth - and wondering whether Bad Mrs Brown, if there were such a person, was at all like her.
They had not gone far, but had gone by some very uncomfortable places, such as brick-fields and tile-yards, when the old woman turned down a dirty lane, where the mud lay in deep black ruts in the middle of the road. She stopped before a shabby little house, as closely shut up as a house that was full of cracks and crevices could be. Opening the door with a key she took out of her bonnet, she pushed the child before her into a back room, where there was a great heap of rags of different colours lying on the floor; a heap of bones, and a heap of sifted dust or cinders; but there was no furniture at all, and the walls and ceiling were quite black.
The child became so terrified the she was stricken speechless, and looked as though about to swoon.
'Now don't be a young mule,' said Good Mrs Brown, reviving her with a shake. 'I'm not a going to hurt you. Sit upon the rags.'
Florence obeyed her, holding out her folded hands, in mute supplication.
'I'm not a going to keep you, even, above an hour,' said Mrs Brown. 'D'ye understand what I say?'
The child answered with great difficulty, 'Yes.'
'Then,' said Good Mrs Brown, taking her own seat on the bones, 'don't vex me. If you don't, I tell you I won't hurt you. But if you do, I'll kill you. I could have you killed at any time - even if you was in your own bed at home. Now let's know who you are, and what you are, and all about it.'
The old woman's threats and promises; the dread of giving her offence; and the habit, unusual to a child, but almost natural to Florence now, of being quiet, and repressing what she felt, and feared, and hoped; enabled her to do this bidding, and to tell her little history, or what she knew of it. Mrs Brown listened attentively, until she had finished.
'So your name's Dombey, eh?' said Mrs Brown.
'I want that pretty frock, Miss Dombey,' said Good Mrs Brown, 'and that little bonnet, and a petticoat or two, and anything else you can spare. Come! Take 'em off.'
Florence obeyed, as fast as her trembling hands would allow; keeping, all the while, a frightened eye on Mrs Brown. When she had divested herself of all the articles of apparel mentioned by that lady, Mrs B. examined them at leisure, and seemed tolerably well satisfied with their quality and value.
'Humph!' she said, running her eyes over the child's slight figure, 'I don't see anything else - except the shoes. I must have the shoes, Miss Dombey.'
Poor little Florence took them off with equal alacrity, only too glad to have any more means of conciliation about her. The old woman then produced some wretched substitutes from the bottom of the heap of rags, which she turned up for that purpose; together with a girl's cloak, quite worn out and very old; and the crushed remains of a bonnet that had probably been picked up from some ditch or dunghill. In this dainty raiment, she instructed Florence to dress herself; and as such preparation seemed a prelude to her release, the child complied with increased readiness, if possible.
In hurriedly putting on the bonnet, if that may be called a bonnet which was more like a pad to carry loads on, she caught it in her hair which grew luxuriantly, and could not immediately disentangle it. Good Mrs Brown whipped out a large pair of scissors, and fell into an unaccountable state of excitement.
'Why couldn't you let me be!' said Mrs Brown, 'when I was contented? You little fool!'
'I beg your pardon. I don't know what I have done,' panted Florence. 'I couldn't help it.'
'Couldn't help it!' cried Mrs Brown. 'How do you expect I can help it? Why, Lord!' said the old woman, ruffling her curls with a furious pleasure, 'anybody but me would have had 'em off, first of all.' Florence was so relieved to find that it was only her hair and not her head which Mrs Brown coveted, that she offered no resistance or entreaty, and merely raised her mild eyes towards the face of that good soul.
'If I hadn't once had a gal of my own - beyond seas now- that was proud of her hair,' said Mrs Brown, 'I'd have had every lock of it. She's far away, she's far away! Oho! Oho!'
Mrs Brown's was not a melodious cry, but, accompanied with a wild tossing up of her lean arms, it was full of passionate grief, and thrilled to the heart of Florence, whom it frightened more than ever. It had its part, perhaps, in saving her curls; for Mrs Brown, after hovering about her with the scissors for some moments, like a new kind of butterfly, bade her hide them under the bonnet and let no trace of them escape to tempt her. Having accomplished this victory over herself, Mrs Brown resumed her seat on the bones, and smoked a very short black pipe, mowing and mumbling all the time, as if she were eating the stem.
When the pipe was smoked out, she gave the child a rabbit-skin to carry, that she might appear the more like her ordinary companion, and told her that she was now going to lead her to a public street whence she could inquire her way to her friends. But she cautioned her, with threats of summary and deadly vengeance in case of disobedience, not to talk to strangers, nor to repair to her own home (which may have been too near for Mrs Brown's convenience), but to her father's office in the City; also to wait at the street corner where she would be left, until the clock struck three. These directions Mrs Brown enforced with assurances that there would be potent eyes and ears in her employment cognizant of all she did; and these directions Florence promised faithfully and earnestly to observe.
At length, Mrs Brown, issuing forth, conducted her changed and ragged little friend through a labyrinth of narrow streets and lanes and alleys, which emerged, after a long time, upon a stable yard, with a gateway at the end, whence the roar of a great thoroughfare made itself audible. Pointing out this gateway, and informing Florence that when the clocks struck three she was to go to the left, Mrs Brown, after making a parting grasp at her hair which seemed involuntary and quite beyond her own control, told her she knew what to do, and bade her go and do it: remembering that she was watched.
With a lighter heart, but still sore afraid, Florence felt herself released, and tripped off to the corner. When she reached it, she looked back and saw the head of Good Mrs Brown peeping out of the low wooden passage, where she had issued her parting injunctions; likewise the fist of Good Mrs Brown shaking towards her. But though she often looked back afterwards - every minute, at least, in her nervous recollection of the old woman - she could not see her again.
Florence remained there, looking at the bustle in the street, and more and more bewildered by it; and in the meanwhile the clocks appeared to have made up their minds never to strike three any more. At last the steeples rang out three o'clock; there was one close by, so she couldn't be mistaken; and - after often looking over her shoulder, and often going a little way, and as often coming back again, lest the all-powerful spies of Mrs Brown should take offence - she hurried off, as fast as she could in her slipshod shoes, holding the rabbit-skin tight in her hand.
All she knew of her father's offices was that they belonged to Dombey and Son, and that that was a great power belonging to the City. So she could only ask the way to Dombey and Son's in the City; and as she generally made inquiry of children - being afraid to ask grown people - she got very little satisfaction indeed. But by dint of asking her way to the City after a while, and dropping the rest of her inquiry for the present, she really did advance, by slow degrees, towards the heart of that great region which is governed by the terrible Lord Mayor.
Tired of walking, repulsed and pushed about, stunned by the noise and confusion, anxious for her brother and the nurses, terrified by what she had undergone, and the prospect of encountering her angry father in such an altered state; perplexed and frightened alike by what had passed, and what was passing, and what was yet before her; Florence went upon her weary way with tearful eyes, and once or twice could not help stopping to ease her bursting heart by crying bitterly. But few people noticed her at those times, in the garb she wore: or if they did, believed that she was tutored to excite compassion, and passed on. Florence, too, called to her aid all the firmness and self-reliance of a character that her sad experience had prematurely formed and tried: and keeping the end she had in view steadily before her, steadily pursued it.
It was full two hours later in the afternoon than when she had started on this strange adventure, when, escaping from the clash and clangour of a narrow street full of carts and waggons, she peeped into a kind of wharf or landing-place upon the river-side, where there were a great many packages, casks, and boxes, strewn about; a large pair of wooden scales; and a little wooden house on wheels, outside of which, looking at the neighbouring masts and boats, a stout man stood whistling, with his pen behind his ear, and his hands in his pockets, as if his day's work were nearly done.
'Now then! 'said this man, happening to turn round. 'We haven't got anything for you, little girl. Be off!'
'If you please, is this the City?' asked the trembling daughter of the Dombeys.
'Ah! It's the City. You know that well enough, I daresay. Be off! We haven't got anything for you.'
'I don't want anything, thank you,' was the timid answer. 'Except to know the way to Dombey and Son's.'
The man who had been strolling carelessly towards her, seemed surprised by this reply, and looking attentively in her face, rejoined:
'Why, what can you want with Dombey and Son's?'
'To know the way there, if you please.'
The man looked at her yet more curiously, and rubbed the back of his head so hard in his wonderment that he knocked his own hat off.
'Joe!' he called to another man - a labourer- as he picked it up and put it on again.
'Joe it is!' said Joe.
'Where's that young spark of Dombey's who's been watching the shipment of them goods?'
'Just gone, by t'other gate,' said Joe.
'Call him back a minute.'
Joe ran up an archway, bawling as he went, and very soon returned
with a blithe-looking boy.
'You're Dombey's jockey, ain't you?' said the first man.
'I'm in Dombey's House, Mr Clark,' returned the boy.
'Look'ye here, then,' said Mr Clark.
Obedient to the indication of Mr Clark's hand, the boy approached towards Florence, wondering, as well he might, what he had to do with her. But she, who had heard what passed, and who, besides the relief of so suddenly considering herself safe at her journey's end, felt reassured beyond all measure by his lively youthful face and manner, ran eagerly up to him, leaving one of the slipshod shoes upon the ground and caught his hand in both of hers.
'I am lost, if you please!' said Florence.
'Lost!' cried the boy.
'Yes, I was lost this morning, a long way from here - and I have had my clothes taken away, since - and I am not dressed in my own now - and my name is Florence Dombey, my little brother's only sister - and, oh dear, dear, take care of me, if you please!' sobbed Florence, giving full vent to the childish feelings she had so long suppressed, and bursting into tears. At the same time her miserable bonnet falling off, her hair came tumbling down about her face: moving to speechless admiration and commiseration, young Walter, nephew of Solomon Gills, Ships' Instrument-maker in general.
Mr Clark stood rapt in amazement: observing under his breath, I never saw such a start on this wharf before. Walter picked up the shoe, and put it on the little foot as the Prince in the story might have fitted Cinderella's slipper on. He hung the rabbit-skin over his left arm; gave the right to Florence; and felt, not to say like Richard Whittington - that is a tame comparison - but like Saint George of England, with the dragon lying dead before him.
'Don't cry, Miss Dombey,' said Walter, in a transport of
enthusiasm.
'What a wonderful thing for me that I am here! You are as safe now as if you were guarded by a whole boat's crew of picked men from a man-of-war. Oh, don't cry.'
'I won't cry any more,' said Florence. 'I am only crying for joy.'
'Crying for joy!' thought Walter, 'and I'm the cause of it! Come along, Miss Dombey. There's the other shoe off now! Take mine, Miss Dombey.'
'No, no, no,' said Florence, checking him in the act of impetuously
pulling off his own. 'These do better. These do very well.'
'Why, to be sure,' said Walter, glancing at her foot, 'mine are a mile too large. What am I thinking about! You never could walk in mine! Come along, Miss Dombey. Let me see the villain who will dare molest you now.'
So Walter, looking immensely fierce, led off Florence, looking very happy; and they went arm-in-arm along the streets, perfectly indifferent to any astonishment that their appearance might or did excite by the way.
It was growing dark and foggy, and beginning to rain too; but they cared nothing for this: being both wholly absorbed in the late adventures of Florence, which she related with the innocent good faith and confidence of her years, while Walter listened as if, far from the mud and grease of Thames Street, they were rambling alone among the broad leaves and tall trees of some desert island in the tropics - as he very likely fancied, for the time, they were.
'Have we far to go?' asked Florence at last, lilting up her eyes to her companion's face.
'Ah! By-the-bye,' said Walter, stopping, 'let me see; where are we? Oh! I know. But the offices are shut up now, Miss Dombey. There's nobody there. Mr Dombey has gone home long ago. I suppose we must go home too? or, stay. Suppose I take you to my Uncle's, where I live - it's very near here - and go to your house in a coach to tell them you are safe, and bring you back some clothes. Won't that be best?'
'I think so,' answered Florence. 'Don't you? What do you think?'
As they stood deliberating in the street, a man passed them, who glanced quickly at Walter as he went by, as if he recognised him; but seeming to correct that first impression, he passed on without stopping.
'Why, I think it's Mr Carker,' said Walter. 'Carker in our House. Not Carker our Manager, Miss Dombey - the other Carker; the Junior - Halloa! Mr Carker!'
'Is that Walter Gay?' said the other, stopping and returning. 'I couldn't believe it, with such a strange companion.
As he stood near a lamp, listening with surprise to Walter's hurried explanation, he presented a remarkable contrast to the two youthful figures arm-in-arm before him. He was not old, but his hair was white; his body was bent, or bowed as if by the weight of some great trouble: and there were deep lines in his worn and melancholy face. The fire of his eyes, the expression of his features, the very voice in which he spoke, were all subdued and quenched, as if the spirit within him lay in ashes. He was respectably, though very plainly dressed, in black; but his clothes, moulded to the general character of his figure, seemed to shrink and abase themselves upon him, and to join in the sorrowful solicitation which the whole man from head to foot expressed, to be left unnoticed, and alone in his humility.
And yet his interest in youth and hopefulness was not extinguished with the other embers of his soul, for he watched the boy's earnest countenance as he spoke with unusual sympathy, though with an inexplicable show of trouble and compassion, which escaped into his looks, however hard he strove to hold it prisoner. When Walter, in conclusion, put to him the question he had put to Florence, he still stood glancing at him with the same expression, as if he had read some fate upon his face, mournfully at variance with its present brightness.
'What do you advise, Mr Carker?' said Walter, smiling. 'You always give me good advice, you know, when you do speak to me. That's not often, though.'
'I think your own idea is the best,' he answered: looking from Florence to Walter, and back again.
'Mr Carker,' said Walter, brightening with a generous thought, 'Come! Here's a chance for you. Go you to Mr Dombey's, and be the messenger of good news. It may do you some good, Sir. I'll remain at home. You shall go.'
'I!' returned the other.
'Yes. Why not, Mr Carker?' said the boy.
He merely shook him by the hand in answer; he seemed in a manner ashamed and afraid even to do that; and bidding him good-night, and advising him to make haste, turned away.
'Come, Miss Dombey,' said Walter, looking after him as they turned away also, 'we'll go to my Uncle's as quick as we can. Did you ever hear Mr Dombey speak of Mr Carker the Junior, Miss Florence?'
'No,' returned the child, mildly, 'I don't often hear Papa speak.'
'Ah! true! more shame for him,' thought Walter. After a minute's pause, during which he had been looking down upon the gentle patient little face moving on at his side, he said, 'The strangest man, Mr Carker the Junior is, Miss Florence, that ever you heard of. If you could understand what an extraordinary interest he takes in me, and yet how he shuns me and avoids me; and what a low place he holds in our office, and how he is never advanced, and never complains, though year after year he sees young men passed over his head, and though his brother (younger than he is), is our head Manager, you would be as much puzzled about him as I am.'
As Florence could hardly be expected to understand much about it, Walter bestirred himself with his accustomed boyish animation and restlessness to change the subject; and one of the unfortunate shoes coming off again opportunely, proposed to carry Florence to his uncle's in his arms. Florence, though very tired, laughingly declined the proposal, lest he should let her fall; and as they were already near the wooden Midshipman, and as Walter went on to cite various precedents, from shipwrecks and other moving accidents, where younger boys than he had triumphantly rescued and carried off older girls than Florence, they were still in full conversation about it when they arrived at the Instrument-maker's door.
'Holloa, Uncle Sol!' cried Walter, bursting into the shop, and speaking incoherently and out of breath, from that time forth, for the rest of the evening. 'Here's a wonderful adventure! Here's Mr Dombey's daughter lost in the streets, and robbed of her clothes by an old witch of a woman - found by me - brought home to our parlour to rest - look here!'
'Good Heaven!' said Uncle Sol, starting back against his favourite compass-case. 'It can't be! Well, I - '
'No, nor anybody else,' said Walter, anticipating the rest. 'Nobody would, nobody could, you know. Here! just help me lift the little sofa near the fire, will you, Uncle Sol - take care of the plates - cut some dinner for her, will you, Uncle - throw those shoes under the grate. Miss Florence - put your feet on the fender to dry - how damp they are - here's an adventure, Uncle, eh? - God bless my soul, how hot I am!'
Solomon Gills was quite as hot, by sympathy, and in excessive bewilderment. He patted Florence's head, pressed her to eat, pressed her to drink, rubbed the soles of her feet with his pocket-handkerchief heated at the fire, followed his locomotive nephew with his eyes, and ears, and had no clear perception of anything except that he was being constantly knocked against and tumbled over by that excited young gentleman, as he darted about the room attempting to accomplish twenty things at once, and doing nothing at all.
'Here, wait a minute, Uncle,' he continued, catching up a candle, 'till I run upstairs, and get another jacket on, and then I'll be off. I say, Uncle, isn't this an adventure?'
'My dear boy,' said Solomon, who, with his spectacles on his forehead and the great chronometer in his pocket, was incessantly oscillating between Florence on the sofa, and his nephew in all parts of the parlour, 'it's the most extraordinary - '
'No, but do, Uncle, please - do, Miss Florence - dinner, you know, Uncle.'
'Yes, yes, yes,' cried Solomon, cutting instantly into a leg of mutton, as if he were catering for a giant. 'I'll take care of her, Wally! I understand. Pretty dear! Famished, of course. You go and get ready. Lord bless me! Sir Richard Whittington thrice Lord Mayor of London.'
Walter was not very long in mounting to his lofty garret and descending from it, but in the meantime Florence, overcome by fatigue, had sunk into a doze before the fire. The short interval of quiet, though only a few minutes in duration, enabled Solomon Gills so far to collect his wits as to make some little arrangements for her comfort, and to darken the room, and to screen her from the blaze. Thus, when the boy returned, she was sleeping peacefully.
'That's capital!' he whispered, giving Solomon such a hug that it squeezed a new expression into his face. 'Now I'm off. I'll just take a crust of bread with me, for I'm very hungry - and don't wake her, Uncle Sol.'
'No, no,' said Solomon. 'Pretty child.'
'Pretty, indeed!' cried Walter. 'I never saw such a face, Uncle Sol. Now I'm off.'
'That's right,' said Solomon, greatly relieved.
'I say, Uncle Sol,' cried Walter, putting his face in at the door.
'Here he is again,' said Solomon.
'How does she look now?'
'Quite happy,' said Solomon.
'That's famous! now I'm off.'
'I hope you are,' said Solomon to himself.
'I say, Uncle Sol,' cried Walter, reappearing at the door.
'Here he is again!' said Solomon.
'We met Mr Carker the Junior in the street, queerer than ever. He bade me good-bye, but came behind us here - there's an odd thing! - for when we reached the shop door, I looked round, and saw him going quietly away, like a servant who had seen me home, or a faithful dog. How does she look now, Uncle?'
'Pretty much the same as before, Wally,' replied Uncle Sol.
'That's right. Now I am off!'
And this time he really was: and Solomon Gills, with no appetite for dinner, sat on the opposite side of the fire, watching Florence in her slumber, building a great many airy castles of the most fantastic architecture; and looking, in the dim shade, and in the close vicinity of all the instruments, like a magician disguised in a Welsh wig and a suit of coffee colour, who held the child in an enchanted sleep.
In the meantime, Walter proceeded towards Mr Dombey's house at a pace seldom achieved by a hack horse from the stand; and yet with his head out of window every two or three minutes, in impatient remonstrance with the driver. Arriving at his journey's end, he leaped out, and breathlessly announcing his errand to the servant, followed him straight into the library, we there was a great confusion of tongues, and where Mr Dombey, his sister, and Miss Tox, Richards, and Nipper, were all congregated together.
'Oh! I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Walter, rushing up to him, 'but I'm happy to say it's all right, Sir. Miss Dombey's found!'
The boy with his open face, and flowing hair, and sparkling eyes, panting with pleasure and excitement, was wonderfully opposed to Mr Dombey, as he sat confronting him in his library chair.
'I told you, Louisa, that she would certainly be found,' said Mr Dombey, looking slightly over his shoulder at that lady, who wept in company with Miss Tox. 'Let the servants know that no further steps are necessary. This boy who brings the information, is young Gay, from the office. How was my daughter found, Sir? I know how she was lost.' Here he looked majestically at Richards. 'But how was she found? Who found her?'
'Why, I believe I found Miss Dombey, Sir,' said Walter modestly, 'at least I don't know that I can claim the merit of having exactly found her, Sir, but I was the fortunate instrument of - '
'What do you mean, Sir,' interrupted Mr Dombey, regarding the boy's evident pride and pleasure in his share of the transaction with an instinctive dislike, 'by not having exactly found my daughter, and by being a fortunate instrument? Be plain and coherent, if you please.'
It was quite out of Walter's power to be coherent; but he rendered himself as explanatory as he could, in his breathless state, and stated why he had come alone.
'You hear this, girl?' said Mr Dombey sternly to the black-eyed. 'Take what is necessary, and return immediately with this young man to fetch Miss Florence home. Gay, you will be rewarded to-morrow.
'Oh! thank you, Sir,' said Walter. 'You are very kind. I'm sure I was not thinking of any reward, Sir.'
'You are a boy,' said Mr Dombey, suddenly and almost fiercely; 'and what you think of, or affect to think of, is of little consequence. You have done well, Sir. Don't undo it. Louisa, please to give the lad some wine.'
Mr Dombey's glance followed Walter Gay with sharp disfavour, as he left the room under the pilotage of Mrs Chick; and it may be that his mind's eye followed him with no greater relish, as he rode back to his Uncle's with Miss Susan Nipper.
There they found that Florence, much refreshed by sleep, had dined, and greatly improved the acquaintance of Solomon Gills, with whom she was on terms of perfect confidence and ease. The black-eyed (who had cried so much that she might now be called the red-eyed, and who was very silent and depressed) caught her in her arms without a word of contradiction or reproach, and made a very hysterical meeting of it. Then converting the parlour, for the nonce, into a private tiring room, she dressed her, with great care, in proper clothes; and presently led her forth, as like a Dombey as her natural disqualifications admitted of her being made.
'Good-night!' said Florence, running up to Solomon. 'You have been very good to me.
Old Sol was quite delighted, and kissed her like her grand-father.
'Good-night, Walter! Good-bye!' said Florence.
'Good-bye!' said Walter, giving both his hands.
'I'll never forget you,' pursued Florence. 'No! indeed I never will. Good-bye, Walter!' In the innocence of her grateful heart, the child lifted up her face to his. Walter, bending down his own, raised it again, all red and burning; and looked at Uncle Sol, quite sheepishly.
'Where's Walter?' 'Good-night, Walter!' 'Good-bye, Walter!' 'Shake hands once more, Walter!' This was still Florence's cry, after she was shut up with her little maid, in the coach. And when the coach at length moved off, Walter on the door-step gaily turned the waving of her handkerchief, while the wooden Midshipman behind him seemed, like himself, intent upon that coach alone, excluding all the other passing coaches from his observation.
In good time Mr Dombey's mansion was gained again, and again there was a noise of tongues in the library. Again, too, the coach was ordered to wait - 'for Mrs Richards,' one of Susan's fellow-servants ominously whispered, as she passed with Florence.
The entrance of the lost child made a slight sensation, but not much. Mr Dombey, who had never found her, kissed her once upon the forehead, and cautioned her not to run away again, or wander anywhere with treacherous attendants. Mrs Chick stopped in her lamentations on the corruption of human nature, even when beckoned to the paths of virtue by a Charitable Grinder; and received her with a welcome something short of the reception due to none but perfect Dombeys. Miss Tox regulated her feelings by the models before her. Richards, the culprit Richards, alone poured out her heart in broken words of welcome, and bowed herself over the little wandering head as if she really loved it.
'Ah, Richards!' said Mrs Chick, with a sigh. 'It would have been much more satisfactory to those who wish to think well of their fellow creatures, and much more becoming in you, if you had shown some proper feeling, in time, for the little child that is now going to be prematurely deprived of its natural nourishment.
'Cut off,' said Miss Tox, in a plaintive whisper, 'from one common fountain!'
'If it was ungrateful case,' said Mrs Chick, solemnly, 'and I had your reflections, Richards, I should feel as if the Charitable Grinders' dress would blight my child, and the education choke him.'
For the matter of that - but Mrs Chick didn't know it - he had been pretty well blighted by the dress already; and as to the education, even its retributive effect might be produced in time, for it was a storm of sobs and blows.
'Louisa!' said Mr Dombey. 'It is not necessary to prolong these observations. The woman is discharged and paid. You leave this house, Richards, for taking my son - my son,' said Mr Dombey, emphatically repeating these two words, 'into haunts and into society which are not to be thought of without a shudder. As to the accident which befel Miss Florence this morning, I regard that as, in one great sense, a happy and fortunate circumstance; inasmuch as, but for that occurrence, I never could have known - and from your own lips too - of what you had been guilty. I think, Louisa, the other nurse, the young person,' here Miss Nipper sobbed aloud, 'being so much younger, and necessarily influenced by Paul's nurse, may remain. Have the goodness to direct that this woman's coach is paid to' - Mr Dombey stopped and winced - 'to Staggs's Gardens.'
Polly moved towards the door, with Florence holding to her dress, and crying to her in the most pathetic manner not to go away. It was a dagger in the haughty father's heart, an arrow in his brain, to see how the flesh and blood he could not disown clung to this obscure stranger, and he sitting by. Not that he cared to whom his daughter turned, or from whom turned away. The swift sharp agony struck through him, as he thought of what his son might do.
His son cried lustily that night, at all events. Sooth to say, poor Paul had better reason for his tears than sons of that age often have, for he had lost his second mother - his first, so far as he knew - by a stroke as sudden as that natural affliction which had darkened the beginning of his life. At the same blow, his sister too, who cried herself to sleep so mournfully, had lost as good and true a friend. But that is quite beside the question. Let us waste no words about it.
  到了早上,波利由于顾虑重重,心中十分忐忑不安;若不是她那位黑眼睛的女伴不断怂恿,她就会断绝这次外出远走的各种念头,而改为提出正式申请,请求在董贝先生屋顶的森严的阴影下,与147号见见面。可是苏珊本人有意进行这次短途旅行;她像托尼·拉姆金①一样,能够用坚强的意志忍受另人的沮丧失意,但却决不能容忍让自己的希望落空;于是她对波利的第二种想法巧妙地提出了许多疑问,对原先的打算则巧妙地发表了许多支持的意见,所以几乎当董贝先生这位绅士一转开他庄严的后背,沿着平日的道路向城里进发的时候,他的一无所知的儿子就已经上了前往斯塔格斯花园的路了。
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  ①托尼·拉姆金(TonyLampkin):英国作家奥利弗·戈德史密斯(OliverGold-smith,1728—1774)所写歌剧《屈身求爱》(SheStoopstoConquer,1771年发表)中的主人翁之一。他是个愚蠢、自私的人。
  这个声音悦耳的地方座落在一个郊区,斯塔格斯花园的居民们都管它叫做坎伯林镇;有一种为了查找起来有趣和方便,印在手绢上供外地游客使用的伦敦地图,不无理由地把这个地名缩写为坎登镇。两位保姆在她们所抚养的孩子的陪伴下,就向这里走去。理查兹当然抱着保罗,苏珊则拉着小弗洛伦斯的手,而且不时在她认为对她指挥合适的时候,猛拉她一下,狠戳她一下。
  这个时期发生的大地震,第一次震动就把整个地区都震裂了,一直达到它的中心。到处都可以看到地震留下的痕迹。房屋倒塌了;街道完全裂开和堵塞了;地底下被挖掘成深深的凹坑和沟渠;大堆大堆的泥土高高堆积;建筑物由于基础遭到破坏,动摇不牢,正用大根的木头支撑着。这里,翻倒在地、杂乱一团的大车横七竖八地躺在一座峻峭的非自然的小山底下;那里,珍贵的铁器毫无条理地浸泡在偶然形成的池塘中,腐蚀生锈。到处是不通向任何地方的桥梁,完全不能通行的大路,失去一半高度、像巴别塔①一样的烟囱,在最意想不到的场所临时搭建的木房子和围栏,破烂的住房的骨架,未建成的墙和拱门的断片,一堆堆的脚手架,杂乱无章的砖块,巨人般的起重机以及跨立在空处的三脚架。这里有十几万个没有完成的形状和实体,散乱地混杂在一起,上下倒立,深埋在地下,高耸在空中,腐烂在水里,像梦一样地难以理解。地震通常的伴随物——温泉和火焰喷发,对整个场景增添上一份混乱。在颓垣断壁之内,沸腾的水上下滚动,发出了嘶嘶的声音,从那里也发出了火焰的闪耀与怒号;山丘般的灰烬堵塞了来往通道,而且完全改变了本地的法律与风俗。
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  ①巴别塔(Babeltower):圣经《创世纪》中的故事说:在洪水大劫之后,挪亚的子孙成群向东迁移,走到示拿地方,发现一片广袤的原野,就决定在那里住下来,并在那里建一座城,城中建一座塔,塔顶通天;不久,那塔节节升高,直入云霄。但后来耶和华变乱了他们的口音,使他们从本来只说一种语言变为说出各种各样的语言;由于语言不通,停工待料,人们逐渐走散,那座城和那座塔也就半途而废了。半途而废的原因在于语言的变乱。“变乱”一词在希伯来语中读作“巴别”,因此人们就管那座城叫巴别城,管那座塔叫巴别塔。
  简单地说,尚未峻工、尚未通车的铁路正在修建中,它从极端杂乱的中心,沿着它的文明与进步的宏伟路线,平静地、慢慢地向远处延伸。
  可是到现在为止,附近的居民还羞于承认这条铁路。一两个大胆的投机商已经在筹划修建街道;有一位已经动工修建了一点儿,但却在泥淖与灰烬中间停顿下来,需要再考虑考虑。有一个新开张的小酒店,店里散发着新鲜的灰浆与胶料的气味,店前只有一片空地,它已经把铁路纹章画在它的招牌上了;但这可能是个未经深思熟虑、草草创办的企业——这时它希望能卖些酒给工人喝。同样,“掘路工人之家”设在一个啤酒店里;一家开设好久的火腿与牛肉店同样由于直接的和可以受到欢迎的营利动机,已改变为铁路饮食店,每天卖出一只烤猪腿。公寓老板也同样讨人喜欢,并且由于同样原因不能受到人们的信任。人们的信心增长得很慢。在铁路线开始的地方有霉臭难闻的田野、牛棚、粪堆、垃圾堆、水沟、菜园、凉亭和敲打地毯的场地。在牡蛎季节中的牡蛎壳,在龙虾季节中的龙虾壳,在所有季节中的破碎的陶器和枯萎的卷心菜叶,像小坟般一堆一堆地侵占了铁路线的路堤。标竿、围栏、对入侵者的旧警告牌、简陋房屋的后背和长着衰败植物的地块瞪眼看着这条铁路,看得它局促不安。没有什么由于它而比过去更好,或认为比过去好。如果附近可怜的荒地能够发笑的话,那么它也会像许多可怜的邻居一样,对它冷嘲热讽一番的。
  斯塔格斯花园异乎寻常地令人难以置信。这里有一小排房屋,房屋前面是一片污秽的土地;房屋与房屋之间被旧的门、楼板、涂了柏油的帆布片和枯死的矮树丛隔开,缝隙里塞上没有底的白铁壶和不堪使用的铁制火炉围栏。斯塔格斯花园的园丁们在这里栽培红豆,饲养家禽、兔子,建造简陋的凉亭(其中一个是一条旧的小船),晾晒衣服,叼着烟斗吸烟。有些人说,斯塔格斯花园是为了纪念一位已故的资本家斯塔格斯先生而命名的,这位先生建造它是为了供他消遣娱乐。另有一些生性喜爱乡村的人认为,这个名称的由来应该追溯到安逸幽静、田园诗般的那段时光,那时候称为斯塔格斯的长角的兽群常常到荫凉的效野栖身安息。不论实际情况怎么样,当地的居民们都把斯塔格斯花园看作是一个神圣的园林,不许被铁路消灭;他们深信它的寿命必定会比这类可笑的发明长得多,所以住在角落里的扫烟囱的工长(大家都认为他在花园的当地政治中坐第一把交椅)曾经当众宣布,在铁路举行通车典礼的时候(如果它有一天真能通车的话),他的两个孩子将会攀登上他的房屋的烟道,按照他的指示,嘲笑、欢呼他们想要消灭斯塔格斯花园的计划已告失败。
  小保罗现在就由命运和理查兹带往这个亵渎神明的地方;董贝先生的妹妹至今还对她的哥哥隐瞒着它的名称。
  “那就是我的家,苏珊,”波利指着它,说道。
  “真的吗,理查兹大嫂?”苏珊谦和地说道。
  “站在门口的是我的妹妹杰迈玛,准没错!”波利喊道,“她手里抱着的是我自己可爱的宝贝娃娃!”
  这个情景在波利的急切难耐的心情上增添了一对十分宽阔的翅膀,因此她开始沿着花园奔跑过去,蹦跳到杰迈玛的身边,一转眼的工夫就跟她的妹妹交换了婴孩;那位年轻的姑娘大吃一惊,董贝的继承人似乎是从云霄中降落到她的怀里一样。
  “啊,波利!”杰迈玛喊道。“瞧你!你真让我吓了一跳!谁可曾料得到啊!进来吧,波利!你看去气色真好!孩子们见到你准要乐疯了,准是的,波利!”
  如果我们从他们发出的喧闹的声音、从他们向波利猛冲过去,把她拽到壁炉边一张矮椅子里的情景来判断的话,那么他们确实是这样的。她坐在那里,她自己那张诚实的苹果脸立刻变成了一串小苹果的中心;他们红润的脸颊全都紧挨着它,显然全都是同一株树的产物。至于波利本人,她也像孩子们一样吵吵嚷嚷,热情激动。直到她完全喘不过气来,她的头发披散到通红的脸上,她为施洗礼而缝制的新衣服被揉得很皱,这时候混乱才慢慢平息下来。甚至在这时候,第二个最小的图德尔还依旧坐在她的膝盖上,两只手紧紧地抱着她的脖子;第三个最小的图德尔则爬到椅背上;一条腿在空中摆动,作出拼命的努力,想从边角里去吻她。
  “看!一位漂亮的小姐来看你们啦,”波利说道,“看她多么安静!她是个多么漂亮的小姐啊,是不是?”
  这是指弗洛伦斯,她一直站在门边,不是没有注意到刚才发生的情形,这时她吸引了嫩枝们对她的注意,而且,同样幸运的是,随后波利就正式介绍尼珀;尼珀姑娘很有些担心,她已经被怠慢了。
  “啊,请进来坐一会儿吧,苏珊!”波利说道。“这是我的妹妹杰迈玛,这就是。杰迈玛,要是没有苏珊·尼珀,我自己真不知道该怎么办;要是没有她,那么我现在就不会在这里啦。”
  “啊,请坐吧,尼珀姑娘,”杰迈玛说道。
  苏珊庄严地、十分讲究礼节地在一张椅子中的一个极小的角落里坐下。
  “我这一辈子从来还没有见到谁能像现在见到您这么高兴,尼珀姑娘,真是从来没有过,”杰迈玛说道。
  苏珊轻松下来,往椅子里多坐进去一点,亲切地微笑着。
  “请把您的帽带解开吧,尼珀姑娘,随便些,就像到您自己家里一样,”杰迈玛请求道。“我担心您还没有住过这样破旧的地方,不过我想您一定会包涵的。”
  这种表示敬意的态度使黑眼睛软化了,她把从身旁跑过去的图德尔小姑娘抱到膝盖上,立刻给她唱起到班伯里①十字架去旅行的歌曲。
  --------
  ①班伯里(Banbury):英格兰牛津郡查韦尔(Charwell)区城镇。
  “可是我可爱的儿子在哪里呢?”波利问道。“我可怜的小家伙?我跑这么多的路到这里来就是想看看穿上新衣服的他呀。”
  “啊,真可惜!”杰迈玛喊道。“他回来听说他妈妈曾经回家来过,一定会万分伤心的。他现在在学校里呢,波利。”
  “已经到学校里去了吗?”
  “是的。他昨天是头一天去的,生怕晚去就会丢掉一些功课学不上。不过今天只上半天课,波利;如果你——你和尼珀姑娘,能等到他回来就好了,”杰迈玛说道,她及时地注意照顾到黑眼睛的面子。“他看上去怎么样,杰迈玛,愿上帝保佑他!”波利结结巴巴地说道。
  “唔,他看上去确实并不像你想的那么坏,”杰迈玛回答道。
  “啊!”波利激动地说道,“我知道他的腿一定太短了。”
  “他的腿确实是短,”杰迈玛答道,“特别是从后面看;但它们会一天天长起来的,波利。”
  这个安慰是一种指望于未来的、过程缓慢的安慰;但是给予这个安慰时愉快的口吻与善良的心意使它具有一种它本来并不含有的价值。在片刻的沉默之后,波利用一种比较轻松愉快的语气问道:
  “爸爸在哪里呢,亲爱的杰迈玛?”因为在家里通常都是用这个家族的称呼来指图德尔先生的。
  “哎呀,你看!”杰迈玛说道,“又是真可惜!爸爸今天早上把晚饭带着走的,要到夜里才回来。不过他经常谈起你,波利,还经常把关于你的一些事情讲给孩子们听;他是世界上最和气、最耐性、脾气最好的人。他过去一直是这样,将来也将会是这样的!”
  “谢谢你,杰迈玛,”纯朴的波利喊道;这番话使她高兴,可是人不在又使她失望。
  “啊,你不用谢我,波利,”她的妹妹在她的脸颊上使劲地吻了一下,说道,一边兴高采烈地舞弄着小保罗。“我有时也这样说到你,心里也是这样想的。”
  虽然感到双重的失望,但却不可能把受到这样热烈欢迎的一次访问看作是一次失败;所以两姐妹就满怀希望地谈起家常事务,谈到拜勒,谈到他的弟弟和妹妹们;在这段时间中,黑眼睛在到班伯里十字架去的旅行已来回了好几趟以后,就细细地观察室内的家具、荷兰钟、碗柜、壁炉台上的城堡,城堡里有红色的和绿色的窗子,里面点一根烛头就可以把它们照亮;还有一对黑色的丝绒制的小猫,每只嘴里都衔着一只贵妇人用的网状手提包,斯塔格斯花园里的人们都认为这是仿制艺术的珍品。不久,唯恐黑眼睛会突然情不自禁地说出挖苦的话来,谈话就转到大家都能参加的一般内容,于是那位年轻的姑娘就把她所知道的有关董贝先生的一切,如他的前途,他的家庭,他的事业和他的性格,都向杰迈玛简略地叙述了一番。她也详详细细、一件不漏地列举了她个人全部服装的清单,还稍稍谈到她的主要的亲戚和朋友。把这些话开诚布公地说出,不再积压在心头以后,她吃起河虾,喝起黑啤酒来,这时心情愉快,随时准备为永恒的友谊而发愿起誓。
  小弗洛伦斯在利用这个机会方面也不落后。因为当小图德尔们陪伴她去看毒菌和花园里的其他新奇事物时,她和他们一起专心一意地在一个角落里由积水形成的一个绿色的小池塘中,着手修建一个临时防波堤。当她仍在忙忙碌碌地从事这项劳动时,苏珊把她寻找到了。虽然在河虾的影响下,苏珊已变得通达人情,可是她仍怀有强烈的责任感,所以她一边给弗洛伦斯洗脸洗手,一边针对她这种变坏了的品性,向她发表了一篇训诫性的谈话;她一边说,一边用拳头打她,作为标点符号,并预言她将使她全家的老人都伤心而死。波利与杰迈玛在楼上相当长久地谈了一些有关金钱方面的私房话,稍稍耽搁了一些时间;在这之后,她们就重新交换了婴孩——因为波利一直抱着她亲生的孩子,杰迈玛则抱着小保罗——,来访的人于是也告辞了。
  但是首先是把年轻的图德尔们(他们是一个意向善良的骗局的牺牲品)哄骗到一个邻近的零售店里去,表面上的理由是让他们把一个便士在那里花掉。障碍一经排除,波利就拔脚逃走了;杰迈玛在她的后面大声叫喊说,她们回去时只要稍稍绕点路,沿着去城里的路走,那就一定会遇上放学回来的小拜勒的。
  “你看,我们是不是可以腾出时间朝那个方向稍稍绕一点路呢,苏珊?”当她们停下来,缓一口气的时候,波利问道。
  “为什么不可以,理查兹大嫂?”苏珊回答道。
  “您知道,现在走下去就快到我们吃晚饭的时间了,”波利说道。”
  但是吃过的午饭使她的女伴对这个郑重的考虑毫不在意,所以她没有把它当成什么了不得的大事,于是她们也就决定去“稍稍绕点路”。
  可怜的拜勒从昨天早上穿上慈善的磨工的制服以后,他的生活就陷入了困境,日子很不好过了。街道上的青年不能容忍它。年轻的无赖们一看到它,没有一个能忍耐一分钟而不立即向这位无罪的穿着者猛冲过去,对他进行伤害的。他在社会上的地位像是一个早期的基督教徒,而不像是个十九世纪的无辜儿童。他在街道上曾经受到石头的扔掷。他曾经被推翻到街沟里,被溅了一身泥;他曾经被猛烈地往柱子上挤压。跟他素不相识的浪荡汉曾把他的黄色的便帽从头上揭走,向风中抛去。他的两腿不仅遭到语言上的非难与辱骂,而且在肉体上被捏被掐。就在那天早上,在他去磨工学校上学的路途中,他的眼眶完全平白无故地被打得发青,而且还为此而受到教师的惩罚。这位教师原先是位磨工,已经超过了服务年龄,性情野蛮;他被聘请当教师是因为他对什么都一窍不通,也不适合做任何事情;所有长得圆圆胖胖的小男孩见到他那根残酷无情的棍子都会吓得魂不附体。
  因此,结果是,拜勒回家时,寻找那些人迹罕至的小路,沿着狭窄的小巷和偏僻的背街,偷偷摸摸地行走,以免和那些折磨他的人相遇。由于最后不得不出现在大路上,所以厄运终于又降临到他的头上。有一小群以一位残暴的年轻屠夫为首的男孩子正躺在那里等待着有什么可供他们开心取乐的事情发生。这些人看到一位慈善的磨工突然出现在他们中间——好像莫名其妙地送交到他们手中似的——就一齐大喊了一声,向他猛冲过去。
  但碰巧就在这个时候,波利来到了。在这之前,她已走了整整一个小时的路程,毫无希望地望着前面的道路,说道,再往前走也没有用了;就在这个时候,她突然看到了这个情景。她一看见它,就性急地惊叫了一声,把董贝少爷递给了黑眼睛,立即开始去抢救她的不幸的幼小的儿子。
  意外的事情就像不幸的事情一样,很少是单独降临的。吃惊的苏珊·尼珀和她两个年幼的被抚养的孩子在还没有明白发生了什么事情之前,被旁观的人们从一辆驶过的四轮马车轮子下面抢救了出来;就在这个时刻(那天是个集市日),传来了雷鸣般的警报声:“疯牛来了!”
  弗洛伦斯只见眼前人们来来往往地奔跑,呼喊,车轮正从他们身上驶过;男孩子们在打架;疯牛跑过来了;保姆在这些危险中被撕得粉碎;她在这一片极大的混乱中,一边尖声喊叫,一边向前奔跑。她一边跑,一边催促苏珊跟她一起跑,一直跑到精疲力尽为止;当她记起她们还把另一位保姆抛在后面的时候,她就停下来,双手使劲地绞扭,这时,她怀着无法形容的恐怖感觉,发现她只是单独一人。
  “苏珊!苏珊!”弗洛伦斯在极度惊慌之中,拍手喊道,“啊,她们在哪里?她们在哪里?”
  “她们在哪里?”一位老太婆从道路的那一边尽快地一拐一拐地步过来,说道,“您为什么从她们那里跑开了?”
  “我受到了惊吓,”弗洛伦斯回答道。“我不知道我做了什么事情,我还以为她们跟我在一起呢。她们在哪里?”
  老太婆拉住她的手,说道,“您跟我来,我告诉您她们在哪里。”
  她是一位很丑陋的老太婆,眼睛周围有一道道红圈;当她不说话的时候,她闭着嘴,用牙根咀嚼着,牙齿发出卡嗒卡嗒的响声。她的衣衫褴褛,胳膊上挂着几张兽皮。她似乎在弗洛伦斯后面至少已经跟随了一小段路了,因为这时她已经喘不过气来。她站着设法恢复呼吸,皱缩的、发黄的脸孔与喉咙扭曲成各种形状,这时候她就显得更加丑陋了。
  弗洛伦斯害怕她,踌躇不决地往街道那边望过去,几乎都望到了尽头。这是个冷僻的地方,不像一条街,而像是一条偏僻的道路,除了她与这位老太婆外,这里没有别的人。
  “您现在不用害怕,”老太婆仍旧紧握着她的手,说道,“跟我来。”
  “我——我不认识您。您姓什么?”弗洛伦斯问道。
  “布朗太太,”老太婆说道。“善良的布朗太太。”
  “她们就在附近吗?”弗洛伦斯问道,她已被领着走了。
  “苏珊在不远的地方,”善良的布朗太太说道:“其他的人离她很近。”
  “有谁受伤了?”弗洛伦斯问道。
  “一点也没有,”善良的布朗太太说道。
  女孩子听到这话,高兴得流出了眼泪,乐意地陪着这位老太婆走去,虽然当她们向前走去的时候,她不由自主地往她的脸孔、特别是往她那张孜孜不倦的嘴巴望上一眼,心中纳闷,凶恶的布朗太太(如果世界上真有这样一个人的话)是不是长得就像她一样。
  她们没有走得很远,只是走过了像砖厂、瓦厂这样一些很索然无趣、毫无快感的地方,这时候老太婆转到一条肮脏的小巷,巷子里路中间深深的黑色车辙中注满了泥浆。她在一间破旧的小房屋前停下来,屋子是紧锁着的,就像一间充满了漏洞和裂缝的房屋总是紧锁着的那样。她从帽子中取出一把钥匙,开了门以后,就把她前面的女孩子推进了一间后面的房间;房间的地板上堆着一大堆各种颜色的破布、一堆骨头和一堆筛过的灰烬或煤渣;没有任何家具;墙和天花板都是很黑的。
  女孩子吓得一句话也说不出来,看上去就像要晕倒似的。
  “现在别当一头小蠢骡子了,”善良的布朗太太摇摇她的身子,使她清醒过来,说道,“我不会伤害您。您就坐在破布上吧。”
  弗洛伦斯依从了她,一边向她伸出合拢的两手,默默地哀求。
  “我把您留在这里的时间连一个钟头也不会超过,”布朗太太说道,“我的话您听明白了吗?”
  女孩子十分困难地回答道,“听明白了。”
  “那么,”善良的布朗太太在骨头上坐下来,说道,“别惹我恼火。如果您不惹我恼火,那么我告诉您,我是不会伤害您的。但是如果您惹我恼火了,那么我就杀死您。我什么时候都能杀死您——即使您待在您自己家里的床上我也能。现在您告诉我,您是谁,您是什么样的人以及有关您的一切。”
  因为老太婆向她进行了威胁并给予了许诺,因为她恐怕会触犯她,又因为她已养成了默不作声和抑制内心的感觉、害怕与希望的习惯(这种习惯对一般孩子来说是不常见的,但对弗洛伦斯来说,现在几乎是很自然的了),所以她就遵照命令,叙述了她自己短短的历史或者她所知道的有关事情。布朗太太聚精会神地听着,直到她讲完为止。
  “这么说,您姓董贝,是不是?”布朗太太说道。
  “是的,夫人。”
  “我需要那件漂亮的长衣,董贝小姐,”善良的布朗太太说道,“还有那顶小帽,还有一两条裙子,以及您能让出的其他一切东西。来吧!把它们脱下来!”
  弗洛伦斯依从了她的命令,她那颤抖的双手能脱得多快就脱得多快,她那恐惧的眼睛则一直注视着布朗太太。当她把老太婆所说的所有服装都从自己身上剥掉以后,布朗太太从容不迫地把它们细细察看着,似乎对它们的质量与价值相当满意。
  “哼!”她滚动着眼珠,把女孩子苗条的身材上下看过一遍,说道,“我看除了那双鞋子之外没有别的什么了。我一定要那双鞋子,董贝小姐。”
  可怜的小弗洛伦斯同样敏捷地把它们脱掉;她在自己身上还能找到可以迎合老太婆欢心的东西,真是太高兴了。然后老太婆从那堆破布的底层取出了一些破烂的代替品。她翻找那堆破布就是为了这个目的;她还找出一件穿得很破很旧的女孩子的斗篷,还有一顶压扁的、残缺不全的帽子,大概是从什么水沟里或粪堆上捡到的。她命令弗洛伦斯把这些精美的衣服穿起来;由于这些准备行动似乎是释放她的序幕,女孩子就尽可能比先前更加麻利地遵命照办。
  在急急忙忙戴上帽子(如果那可以称作一顶帽子的话,其实它倒更像是一块供运载重物用的衬垫)的时候,她把它绊结在她茂密的头发里了,不能一下子解脱出来。善良的布朗太太猛然抽出一把大剪刀,兴奋得令人难以解释。
  “我本来已经心满意足了,您怎么还不能放我安宁一下?”
  布朗太太说道,“您这个小傻瓜!”
  “请您原谅,我不知道我做了什么了,”弗洛伦斯气喘吁吁地说道。“我没法子。”
  “没法子!”布朗太太喊道。“您怎么指望我有法子?啊,天主!”老太婆说道,一边怀着凶暴的喜悦,把她的卷发弄得蓬蓬松松的,“除了我,任何人到这里都得首先把它剪掉。”
  弗洛伦斯听到布朗太太贪求的是她的头发,而不是她的头,感到大为宽慰,因此她没有违抗,也没有哀求,而是抬起温柔的眼睛,望着那位善良的人儿的脸孔。
  “要不是我从前有过一个女儿——她现在在海外——,她对她的一头好头发感到十分得意的话,”布朗太太说道,“那么我就会把您的头发统统剪掉,一绺也不剩。她远远地离开我了,她远远地离开我了!哦嗬!哦嗬!”
  布朗太太的号哭并不是音调悦耳的,但却充满了深切的悲痛;她一边哭一边把她那两只瘦削的胳膊向上猛烈挥动着;弗洛伦斯毛骨悚然,心房怦怦直跳,她现在感到更害怕了。这番号哭也许起了挽救她的卷发的作用,因为布朗太太把剪刀像一种新品种的蝴蝶一般在她前后左右飞舞了一阵子之后,命令她把卷发都藏到帽子里去,一根也别露出来引诱她。布朗太太对自己取得了这个胜利之后,重新坐到骨头上,取出一根很短的黑烟管抽起烟来,一边一直不断地蠕动着嘴唇,用牙根咀嚼着,仿佛她是在吃那根烟管似的。
  抽完烟之后,她给女孩子一张兔皮让她拿着,这样她看上去就会更像是她的一位普通的朋友,并且告诉她,她现在要把她领到一条行人众多的大街上去,她可以在那里问路,寻找她的朋友。但是她警告她(同时又威胁她,如果她敢于违抗的话,那么她就会立刻得到致命的报复),不许和生人交谈,也不许到她自己家里去(因为在布朗太太看来,她的家离这里太近了),而是要到她父亲在城里的营业所去;她还必须在把她留下的街道角落里等待着,一直等到时钟敲三下为止。布朗太太强迫她服从这些命令,并向她肯定地说,她雇用了一些有力的耳目为她服务,她的一举一动都逃脱不了他们的注意;弗洛伦斯忠诚地、恳切地答应遵守这些命令。
  布朗太太终于出发了;她领着她的改变了模样、衣衫褴褛的小朋友,穿过了错综复杂,如同迷宫般的狭窄的街道、小巷和胡同,经过了长长的一段时间之后,终于来到了一个街头马车停车场;在场子的另一端有一个门口,在那里可以听到一条很宽阔的大街上的喧闹和声音。布朗太太指出那个门口,告诉弗洛伦斯等到时钟敲过三下之后,她就往左边走,这时候她似乎无意识地、无法控制自己地抓了一下她的头发,表示告别;然后她告诉她,她知道该怎么做,并吩咐她前去做,同时记住有人在监视她。
  怀着一颗比先前轻松一些的心,但依旧十分害怕,弗洛伦斯觉得自己已被释放了,就轻快地跑到那个角落里。她到达那里以后,回头望望,看到善良的布朗太太的头正从出入口低矮的木制挡板(她刚才就是在那里发表离别训词的)中探出,向外窥视,也看到她的拳头正朝着她挥舞。不过她后来虽然时常回头去看——在她紧张不安地回想起这位老太婆的时候,至少每分钟回头去看一次——,却再也看不到她了。
  弗洛伦斯一直站在那里,看着街道上熙熙攘攘的情景,愈看愈觉得迷惑不解;在这期间,时钟似乎已经下定决心再也不敲打三下了。终于,教堂的尖塔敲响了三点钟;有一个教堂就在近旁,所以她不会弄错。她不时回过头去望望,不时走一小段路,不时又走回来,唯恐布朗太太的万能的侦探们会生气见怪;在这之后,她终于穿着塌根鞋,手里紧握着兔皮,急急忙忙尽快地往前走了。
  她对她父亲的营业所所知道的只是它属于董贝父子公司,而且还知道它在这个城市里是声势赫赫的,所以她只能打听到城里董贝父子公司的路怎么走;由于她一般只向孩子们打听——她怕问成年人——,所以她确实难以得到满意的答复。但是过了一会儿以后,由于她只打听到城里去的路怎么走,而把问题的其余部分暂时省略不提,因此她真的向着由那位厉害的市长管辖着的伟大地区的中心逐渐逐渐地步近了。
  弗洛伦斯经过了长途跋涉,感到疲惫不堪,一路饱尝了被人推来搡去的滋味;喧嚣与混乱使她耳聋眼花,心中又急切地挂念着弟弟与两位保姆;她所经历过的事情,以及她在这种改变衣着的情况下与勃然大怒的父亲会见的前景,使她感到害怕;同样,过去已经发生的事情,现在正在发生的事情以及在她前面还将会发生的事情,使她感到困窘与恐怖。在这样一些感情的交织下,弗洛伦斯眼泪汪汪、全身困乏地赶着路;有一两次她情不自禁地停下脚步,放声痛哭,来舒缓舒缓自己无法忍受的心情。可是在这种时候,很少有人留意到穿着得像现在这样的她,即使留意到了,也会相信这是有人教她这样做的,为的是博得人们的怜悯,因此就走开了。弗洛伦斯也求助于她自己那坚韧不拔、自力更生的性格,这是她那悲伤的经历使它早熟地形成和锻炼出来的;她毫不动摇地保持着心中所已确定的目标,坚定不移地前去达到它。
  她经历这奇怪的冒险遭遇以来,下午又已经整整过去两个小时了;这时她为了避开一条被马车与货车堵塞着的狭窄的街道上的叮叮当当的闹声,走到了一条河边一个类似码头或停泊处的地方;那里东一堆西一堆地堆放着许多包包、桶和箱子,还有一台木制的大称盘,一个下面有轮子的小木屋,屋外站着一位健壮的男子,他耳朵上夹着一支笔,手插在衣袋里,一边望着邻近的桅杆与小船,一边吹着口哨,仿佛他这一天的工作已快完毕了。
  “喂!”这个人碰巧在这时转过身来,说道,“我们没什么给你的,小女孩,走开吧!”“请问这是城里吗?”董贝的女儿哆嗦着,问道。
  “不错!这是城里。我看你知道得很清楚嘛。走开吧!我们没有什么给你的。”
  “谢谢您,我不想要什么,”她胆怯地回答道,“我只是想打听一下到董贝父子公司的路怎么走法。”
  这位漫不经心、朝她信步走来的男子似乎对这个回答感到惊奇;他很注意地看着她的脸孔,问道:
  “唔,·你打听董贝父子公司,能从它那里得到什么呢?”
  “麻烦您,我想要知道到那里去的路怎么走法。”
  那人更加好奇地看着她;由于感到奇怪,他就十分使劲地擦着后脑,因此把帽子都擦得掉下来了。
  “乔!”他把帽子拾起来,重新戴上,一边向另一位男子喊道,那人是一位工人。
  “乔在这里!”乔说道。
  “董贝公司的那位愉快的年轻人在哪里?他一直在这里监督装运货物的。”
  “他刚刚从那个门走了,”乔说道。
  “把他喊回来一会儿。”
  乔大叫大嚷地向一个拱道跑去,很快就领回一位神色活泼快乐的男孩子。
  “您是董贝手下的人,是不是?”第一位男子问道。
  “我在董贝公司里工作,克拉克先生,”男孩子回答道。
  “那么,请您看看这里,”克拉克先生说道。
  男孩子顺着克拉克先生手指的方向朝弗洛伦斯走过去,心中纳闷,他跟她有什么关系(他这样想倒也是很自然的)。但是她已经听到了一切;除了突然觉得自己已经平安抵达旅途终点、感到宽慰外,她还从他那活泼愉快、富有朝气的脸孔与举止中感到无比放心,于是就热情洋溢地向他跑去,把他的手拉到她的两只手里,路上把一只塌根鞋都走掉了。
  “对不起,我迷路了!”弗洛伦斯说道。
  “迷路了!”男孩子喊道。
  “是的,我是在今天早上在离这里很远的地方迷路
  的,——后来我的衣服被人取走了——我现在穿的不是我自己的衣服——我的姓名叫弗洛伦斯·董贝,我是我弟弟的唯一的姐姐——哎呀,我的天呀,请您帮帮我吧!”弗洛伦斯哭泣着,把她长久压抑在心中的孩子的感情尽情发泄出来,眼泪汪汪地往下流淌。这时候,她的破烂的帽子掉了,头发蓬松地披散在脸上,引起船舶仪器制造商所罗门·吉尔斯的外甥、年轻的沃尔特默默无言的赞美与同情。
  克拉克先生惊异得目瞪口呆,低声说道,“·我在·这码头上还从没见过这样的怪事。”沃尔特捡起鞋子,把它穿在那只小小的脚上,就像故事中的王子给灰姑娘试穿舞鞋一样①。他把兔皮挂在左胳膊上,又把右胳膊伸给弗洛伦斯,觉得自己不是像理查德·惠廷顿(那样的比方太陈腐无奇了),而是像脚下躺着一条死龙的英格兰的圣徒乔治②。
  --------
  ①这是欧洲著名的童话。有一位美丽的姑娘为后母及异母姐姐虐待,终日与煤渣为伴,所以被称为灰姑娘。有一天她在仙灵的帮助下,化装前去参加舞会,被王子爱上了;她在匆忙回家途中掉了一只鞋子;王子为了寻找她,就拿着这只鞋子去让许多姑娘试穿;她试穿正合适,最后与王子结了婚。
  ②圣徒乔治(SaintGeorge):英格兰的保护圣徒,活动时期约在三世纪;据传说,他曾与一条恶龙搏斗,杀死了它,并从它的脚爪下救出一位女郎。
  “别哭了,董贝小姐,”沃尔特热情奔放地说道,“对我来说,我在这里真是一件多么好的事啊!您现在非常安全,就像由军舰上最优秀的一队海军保护着一样!啊,别哭了!”
  “我不再哭了,”弗洛伦斯说道,“我现在是因为快乐才哭的。”
  “因为快乐才哭的!”沃尔特想道,“而我是她快乐的原因!”“我们走吧,董贝小姐。现在您的另一只鞋子掉了!您就穿我的鞋子吧,董贝小姐。”
  “不,不,不,”他性急地要把自己的鞋子脱下来;弗洛伦斯拦住他,不让他脱;“我穿这双鞋子更好。这双鞋子对我很合适。”
  “唔,那倒是真的,”沃尔特向她的脚望了一眼,说道,“我的鞋子太长了,长出一英里。我刚才怎么没想到这一点呢!您穿了·我·的鞋子就根本没法走路了!我们走吧,董贝小姐,让我看有哪个坏蛋敢来欺负您!”
  就这样,看上去无限勇猛的沃尔特领着看上去十分快乐的弗洛伦斯走了;他们手挽手地沿着街道走去;至于他们的样子在路上是否可能引起人们的惊奇或者实际上已经引起了,他们都毫不在意。
  天色愈来愈黑,雾愈来愈浓,而且也开始下雨了;但是他们对这些丝毫也不理会,因为两人都全神贯注在弗洛伦斯新近的奇遇中了;弗洛伦斯以她那种年龄所特有的天真无邪的真诚与信任叙述着这次奇遇,沃尔特则听着,仿佛他们根本不是在泰晤士大街上的泥浆与污油中行走,而是单独在热带某个荒岛中长着阔叶的高大树林中散步——当时他很可能想象,他们就是在那样的情况下散步的。
  “我们要走很远吗?”弗洛伦斯终于抬起眼睛,望着她的同伴的脸孔,问道。
  “啊!顺便说说,”沃尔特停下脚步,说道,“让我看看,我们在哪里了?哦,我知道了。不过办公室都关闭了,董贝小姐。那里没有任何人了。董贝先生好久以前就回家去了。我想我们是不是也应该回家了?要不就留在这里过夜。要是我把您领到我舅舅的家里去——他家离这里不远,我就住在那里——,然后我乘马车到您家里,告诉他们您安然无恙,再给您带回一些衣服;那样是不是最好?”
  “我想那样最好,”弗洛伦斯回答道。“您呢?您以为怎么样?”
  当他们在街上商议的时候,有一个人从他们身旁经过,他走过时向沃尔特迅速地看了一眼,仿佛认识他似的;但是他接着似乎纠正了这个初步印象,就没有停下来,而是继续向前走了。
  “唔,我想那是卡克先生,”沃尔特说道。“我们公司的卡克先生。不是我们的卡克经理,董贝小姐,——是另一位卡克;是职位低的那一位——,喂!卡克先生!”
  “是沃尔特·盖伊吗?”那人停下脚步,转过身来,说道,“您跟这样一位奇怪的同伴在一起,使我不敢相信了。”
  当他站在街灯旁边,惊奇地听着沃尔特匆匆的解释时,他与他面前这两位手挽手的富于朝气的年轻人形成了鲜明的对照。他并不老,但是头发已经白了;仿佛由于承受着某种沉重的痛苦的负担,他已经曲背弯腰,在他疲惫与忧郁的脸上已经刻上了深深的皱纹。他眼睛中的光泽,脸部的表情,甚至说话的声音全都消沉、衰弱,毫无生气,仿佛他体内的精神已经化为灰烬了。他穿着一身黑色的服装,虽然很简朴,但也还体面;不过他的衣服跟他整个性格相配,穿在身上好像都收缩变小、自贬身价似的,又好像跟他整个人一起,从头到脚都表露出忧伤的哀求:让他在蒙羞受辱的状态中默默无闻,孤独一人吧。
  可是他对青年及希望的兴趣并没有随同他灵魂中其他的余烬一起熄灭,因为当沃尔特说话时,他怀着不寻常的同情注视着他那诚挚的脸,虽然在他的神色之间同时也流露出难以说明的忧虑与怜悯(尽管他竭力掩盖)。当沃尔特最后把向弗洛伦斯提出的问题向他提出的时候,他仍站在那里用同样的表情看着他,仿佛他已在他的脸上令人伤心地读到了与它现在所呈现的活泼快乐的神情截然相反的命运。
  “您看怎么好,卡克先生?”沃尔特微笑着说道。“虽然您并不常跟我谈话,但是当您跟我谈话时,您知道,您常常给我提出一些好的意见。”
  “我觉得您自己的意见最好,”他回答道;这时他的眼光从弗洛伦斯身上移到沃尔特身上,然后又移回去。
  “卡克先生,”沃尔特心中闪现出一个慷慨大方的想法,“对了!这对您是个机会!请您到董贝先生家里去向他报告这个好消息。它对您会有一些好处,先生。我就留在家里。您一定去。”
  “我!”那一位回答道。
  “是的,为什么不呢,卡克先生?”男孩子说道。
  他只是握握他的手作为回答;他似乎感到羞耻,甚至害怕去做这件事。他向他祝了晚安,并劝他赶快去做之后,就离开了。
  “好了,董贝小姐,”当他们也开始走路的时候,沃尔特望着他的背影,说道,“我们尽快到我舅舅家里去。您听董贝先生谈到过这位低级职员卡克先生吗,董贝小姐?”
  “没有,”女孩子温和地回答道,“我不常听爸爸讲话。”
  “啊!不错!这使他更丢脸,”沃尔特想道。他停了一分钟,向下看着在他身边行走的女孩子的那张温柔的、耐性的小脸,然后以他惯有的孩子的活泼与机灵,设法改变话题;碰巧这时那倒霉的鞋子又有一只掉下了,他就建议把弗洛伦斯抱到他舅舅家里去。弗洛伦斯虽然十分疲乏,但却仍大笑着谢绝了他的建议,因为唯恐他抱不住会使她掉下来。他们离开木制海军军官候补生已经不远,沃尔特又继续从船舶遇难及其他动人的事故中援引各种先例,说有些比他还小的男孩子曾经胜利地抢救和抱出比弗洛伦斯还大的女孩子;因此当他们到达仪器制造商的门口时,他们仍在兴高采烈地交谈着这些故事。
  “喂,所尔舅舅!”沃尔特冲进店铺,喊道,并且从这时起,整个晚上都是没有条理地、上气不接下气地说着。“这真是一件奇妙的遭遇!董贝先生的女儿在街上迷路了,一位老妖婆把她的衣服都抢去了——是我找到的——把她领到我们家里来,让她在我们家的客厅里休息休息——请看这里!”
  “我的老天爷!”所尔舅舅吃惊地往后退缩,靠在他所喜爱的罗盘盒子上。“这不可能!唔,我——”
  “是的,其他任何人也都不曾遇到过这样的事情,”沃尔特预料到他还要说的话。“没有任何人会,没有任何人能遇到这样的事情,你知道。请到这里来!帮我把这张小沙发抬到壁炉旁好吗,所尔舅舅?——请做几盘菜——给她吃点晚餐好吗,舅舅?——请把这双鞋子扔到炉栅底下,董贝小姐——把您的脚搁到火炉围栏上烘一烘——它们多湿呀——这是个奇遇,是不是,舅舅?——上帝保佑我的灵魂,我是多么热啊!”
  所罗门·吉尔斯由于同情并处在极度的不知所措的状态中,也同样觉得很热。他轻轻地拍拍弗洛伦斯的头,劝她吃,劝她喝,用在炉子上烘热的手绢擦着她脚上肿痛的地方,眼睛和耳朵则跟着他的火车头般的外甥转,脑子里糊里糊涂,什么也不明白,只觉得他不时被那位兴奋的年轻人在房间里奔来窜去的时候碰着、撞着;那位年轻人想一下子完成二十件事,但却一件事也没有完成。
  “请等一会儿,舅舅,”他拿起一支蜡烛,继续说道,“我现在到楼上去,穿上另一件短上衣,然后我就出发。我说,舅舅,这是不是一件奇遇?”
  “我亲爱的孩子,”所罗门说道;他前额上架着眼镜,衣袋里装着很大的精密计时表,一会儿跑到在沙发上的弗洛伦斯那里,一会儿跑到客厅里各个角落的外甥那里,一直在他们中间跑个不停,“这是极不寻常的——”
  “是的,但是,舅舅,请——弗洛伦斯,请——你知道,晚饭,舅舅。”
  “是的,是的,是的,”所罗门立刻往一条羊腿上砍了一刀,仿佛他是在给一位巨人筹办宴席似的。“我会好好照料她的,沃利!我明白。亲爱的宝贝!当然,饿坏了。你去准备好。天主保佑我!理查德·惠廷顿爵士三次担任伦敦市长!”
  沃尔特登上很高的顶楼,又从上面下来,并没有花很久的时间;但在这段时间里,弗洛伦斯经受不住疲累,已经在壁炉前面打盹了。平静下来的时间虽然只有几分钟,但它却使所罗门·吉尔斯镇静下来,稍稍安排一下,使她舒适一些;他把房间的光线弄暗,又把炉火跟她遮隔开来。因此,当男孩子回到客厅的时候,她正宁静地睡着。
  “好极了!”他低声说道,一边把所罗门紧紧地一抱,抱得他脸孔都变了样。“现在我走了。我得带一块干面包片,因为我饿极了——还有,别喊醒她,所尔舅舅。”
  “不会的,不会的,”所罗门说道。“漂亮的孩子。”
  “确实漂亮!”沃尔特喊道。“我从来没有见到过这样的脸孔,所尔舅舅。现在我走了。”
  “很好,”所罗门大大宽慰地说道。
  “我说,所尔舅舅,”沃尔特在门口探进头来,喊道。
  “他又在这里啊,”所罗门说道。
  “她现在看上去怎么样?”
  “很幸福,”所罗门说道。
  “太好了!现在我走了。”
  “我希望你真的走了,”所罗门自言自语道。
  “我说,所尔舅舅,”沃尔特又出现在门口,说道。
  “他又在这里哪,”所罗门说道。
  “我们在街上遇到低级职员卡克先生。他比过去更加古怪了。他跟我告别了,但却跟在我们后面,一直跟到这里——
  这真是一件希奇的事情!——因为当我们到达店门口的时候,我向四周看了一下,看到他不声不响地走了,就像是一位护送我回家的仆人或一条忠心耿耿的狗一样。现在她看上去怎么样,舅舅?”
  “像先前一样漂亮,沃利,”所尔舅舅回答道。
  “不错,现在·我走了!”
  这一次他真正走了。所罗门·吉尔斯没有吃晚饭的胃口,他坐在壁炉的对面,望着熟睡中的弗洛伦斯,构筑着许多异想天开的空中楼阁;在朦胧的阴影中,在所有仪器的旁边,他看上去就像是一位戴着威尔士假发,穿着一套咖啡色衣服的魔术师;他已施行了魔法,使孩子睡着了。
  在这同时,沃尔特正向着董贝先生的公馆前进,这样快的速度是从街头租用的马车很少能达到的;可是他的头每隔两三分钟还要从窗子中往外探出一次,急不可耐地催促着车夫。抵达旅途终点后,他从马车中跳出来,气喘吁吁地把他的使命向仆人通报,然后就跟着他直接到了图书室;图书室里七嘴八舌,一片混乱,董贝先生,他的妹妹,托克斯小姐,理查兹和尼珀全都聚集在那里。
  “啊,我请您原谅,先生,”沃尔特急急忙忙向他跑去,说道,“但我很高兴向您报告:一切都好,先生。董贝小姐已经找到了!”
  这男孩子面容坦诚,头发飘垂,眼睛闪耀,气喘吁吁,心情喜悦、兴奋,与坐在图书室椅子上、正对着他的董贝先生形成了奇怪的、截然不同的对照。
  “我跟你说过,路易莎,一定会找到她的,”董贝先生稍稍转过头来,对那位与托克斯小姐一道哭哭啼啼的夫人说道。
  “请通知仆人们,不必再去找了。带消息来的这位男孩子是我们公司里的年轻人盖伊。我的女儿是怎么找到的,先生?我知道她是怎么丢失的。”这时他威严地看着理查兹。“但她是怎么找到的?是谁找到她的?”
  “唔,我相信是·我找到董贝小姐的,先生,”沃尔特谦虚地说道,“至少我不知道我能自称有确实找到她的功劳,先生,但是我成了一个幸运的工具——”
  “先生,”董贝先生打断他说道;他怀着本能的厌恶的情绪注视着这位男孩子由于参与这一事件而明显流露出来的骄傲与喜悦的神色,“您刚才说您不是确实找到我的女儿,又说您成了一个幸运的工具,您这些话是什么意思?请说得清楚和有条理些。”
  沃尔特无法说得有条理,但他在没有缓过气来的状态下,尽量把话说得使人明白易懂,于是他叙述了他为什么一个人到这里来的经过。
  “你听见了没有,女孩子?”董贝先生严厉地对黑眼睛说道,“带上必需的东西,立刻跟这位年轻人去把弗洛伦斯小姐接回家。盖伊,明天早上我会奖赏您。”
  “啊,谢谢您,先生,”沃尔特说道。“您很客气。可是说实在的,我并没有想过得什么奖赏,先生。”
  “您是个孩子,”董贝先生突然地、几乎是凶猛地说道,“您想什么,或爱想什么,没有什么重要意义。您做了件好事,先生。别把它糟蹋了。路易莎,请给孩子喝点儿酒。”
  沃尔特·盖伊在奇克夫人的带领下离开房间的时候,董贝先生用很不高兴的眼光跟随着他。当他与苏珊·尼珀一起乘马车回到他舅舅家里去的时候,董贝先生心上的眼睛也许同样会毫无好感地跟随着他。
  他们到家时,看到弗洛伦斯由于睡了一觉,精神大为舒爽;她已经吃过了晚饭,而且跟所罗门·吉尔斯已比先前熟多了;她对他完全信任,并且自由自在地与他相处。黑眼睛先前哭得很厉害,现在可以称为红眼睛了;她沉默寡言,垂头丧气;这时把弗洛伦斯抱在怀里,没有说一句生气或责骂的话,并把这次会见弄得十分歇斯底里。然后她把客厅暂时改变为化妆室,十分细心地给弗洛伦斯穿上合适的衣服,并很快地把她领了出来;除了天生的缺陷使她不够格外,这时她在其他方面完全像是一位董贝家里的人了。
  “再见!”弗洛伦斯跑到所罗门跟前,说道,“您待我真好。”
  老所尔非常高兴,像祖父一样吻着她。
  “再见,沃尔特!再见!”弗洛伦斯说道。
  “再见!”沃尔特向她伸出双手,说道。
  “我永远也不会忘记您,”弗洛伦斯继续说道。“是的,我确实永远也不会忘记您。再见,沃尔特!”
  女孩子怀着天真的感激的心情向他仰起面孔。沃尔特低下脸,然后又抬起来,满脸涨得通红,火辣辣地发烧,一边害羞地看着所尔舅舅。
  “沃尔特在哪里?”“晚安,沃尔特!”“再见,沃尔特!”
  “再握一次手,沃尔特!”弗洛伦斯和她的小保姆被关进一辆轿式马车里以后,依旧还可以听得见她的这些喊声。当马车终于出发的时候,沃尔特站在门阶上快活地向着她挥动的手绢答礼,这时他身后的木制海军军官候补生正像他本人一样,专心致志地望着那一辆马车;其他所有来来往往的马车全都被排除在他的视线之外了。
  马车又适时地到达董贝先生的公馆;在图书室里又响起七嘴八舌的一片声音。他们又嘱咐马车再等一下——“是准备给理查兹大嫂乘的,”当苏珊与弗洛伦斯走过去的时候,与这位小保姆共事的一位女仆不祥地低声说道。
  丢失了的女孩子进来时引起了一点哄动,不过并不大。过去从来不曾找过她的董贝先生在她额上吻了一次,告诫她今后再也不要跟不忠的仆人们离家出走或到什么地方去游逛了。奇克夫人本在悲叹人性败坏,甚至在被慈善的磨工召唤到品德高尚的道路上去的时候也未能挽救过来,这时她停下来,以比接待一位真正的董贝家里的人稍逊一筹的欢迎礼节接待了弗洛伦斯。托克斯小姐按照她面前的两个典范调节了一下自己的感情。只有理查兹,罪人理查兹一个人以断断续续、互不连贯的话语,倾吐了自己表示欢迎的衷情,并向那位迷失了道路的小女孩弯下身去,仿佛她真正地爱她。
  “啊,理查兹!”奇克夫人叹了一口气,说道。“如果您对您抚养的孩子曾及时地显示出某些适当的感情的话,那么您本会使那些希望对她们的同胞怀有好感的人们感到更为满意的;对于您来说,也会更为得当。现在这孩子眼看着就要被过早地剥夺了天然的滋养品了!”
  “被切断了一个共同的源泉!”托克斯小姐哭泣着低声说道。
  “如果是我处在忘恩负义的地位的话,”奇克夫人一本正经地说道,“如果我能代替您发表感想的话,那么,理查兹,我就会觉得,仿佛慈善的磨工的制服会摧残我的孩子,他所受的教育会使他窒息的。”
  就这件事情本身来说,实际上——不过奇克夫人不知道就是了——他几乎已经被那件制服摧残了;至于他所受的教育,那么它的报应也可以说是来得很及时,因为那是暴风雨般的殴打与接连不断的哭泣。
  “路易莎!”董贝先生说道。“没有必要再说这些话,这位女人已经被解雇了,工资也支付了。你就离开这个屋子,理查兹,因为你把我的儿子——我的儿子,”董贝先生把这四个字强调地重复了一遍,说道,“带到了穷乡僻壤和令人一想起来都会毛骨悚然的社会中去。至于今天上午弗洛伦斯小姐遭遇到的不幸事故,从某种重要的意义上说,这倒是个值得高兴和幸运的情况,因为若不是发生这件事,我就决不会知道——而且是从你们自己的嘴中知道——,你们犯了什么样的罪。我想,路易莎,另一位保姆,年轻的那一位,”这时尼珀姑娘大声哭泣着,“由于年龄要小得多,而且一定受了保罗奶妈的影响,所以可以继续留用。劳驾你吩咐,把这位女人的马车钱付了,付到”——董贝先生停住,畏缩地说道,“付到斯塔格斯花园。”
  波利向门口走去,弗洛伦斯拉住她的衣服,极为悲惨可怜地哭着要她别走。看到这个他不能不承认的亲生骨肉难舍难分地依恋着这位出身低微的异乡女人,而他就坐在旁边,这是插进这位傲慢的父亲心中的一把匕首,是射进他脑子中的一支箭。这倒并不是由于他关心他的女儿转向谁或从谁那里转开。当他想到他的儿子会怎么做的时候,他心中顿时感到了剧烈的痛苦。
  不管怎么样,反正他的儿子那天夜里拼命地大哭。老实说,可怜的保罗跟像他这样年龄的其他儿子们相比更有理由伤心落泪,因为他已失去第二个母亲了——就他所知道的来说,这是他的第一个母亲——;这次起因于一次意外事故的打击,跟那次曾在他的生命的开端笼罩上黑暗的天然的苦难同样突如其来地降临。在同样的打击下,她的姐姐也失去了一位善良的、真诚的朋友;她很哀伤地哭着,一直哭到睡去为止。但这是离开本题的事情了,让我们不要为它浪费笔墨。




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Chapter 7
A Bird's-eye Glimpse of Miss Tox's Dwelling-place: also of the State of Miss Tox's Affections
Miss Tox inhabited a dark little house that had been squeezed, at some remote period of English History, into a fashionable neighbourhood at the west end of the town, where it stood in the shade like a poor relation of the great street round the corner, coldly looked down upon by mighty mansions. It was not exactly in a court, and it was not exactly in a yard; but it was in the dullest of No-Thoroughfares, rendered anxious and haggard by distant double knocks. The name of this retirement, where grass grew between the chinks in the stone pavement, was Princess's Place; and in Princess's Place was Princess's Chapel, with a tinkling bell, where sometimes as many as five-and-twenty people attended service on a Sunday. The Princess's Arms was also there, and much resorted to by splendid footmen. A sedan chair was kept inside the railing before the Princess's Arms, but it had never come out within the memory of man; and on fine mornings, the top of every rail (there were eight-and-forty, as Miss Tox had often counted) was decorated with a pewter-pot.
There was another private house besides Miss Tox's in Princess's Place: not to mention an immense Pair of gates, with an immense pair of lion-headed knockers on them, which were never opened by any chance, and were supposed to constitute a disused entrance to somebody's stables. Indeed, there was a smack of stabling in the air of Princess's Place; and Miss Tox's bedroom (which was at the back) commanded a vista of Mews, where hostlers, at whatever sort of work engaged, were continually accompanying themselves with effervescent noises; and where the most domestic and confidential garments of coachmen and their wives and families, usually hung, like Macbeth's banners, on the outward walls.'
At this other private house in Princess's Place, tenanted by a retired butler who had married a housekeeper, apartments were let Furnished, to a single gentleman: to wit, a wooden-featured, blue-faced Major, with his eyes starting out of his head, in whom Miss Tox recognised, as she herself expressed it, 'something so truly military;' and between whom and herself, an occasional interchange of newspapers and pamphlets, and such Platonic dalliance, was effected through the medium of a dark servant of the Major's who Miss Tox was quite content to classify as a 'native,' without connecting him with any geographical idea whatever.
Perhaps there never was a smaller entry and staircase, than the entry and staircase of Miss Tox's house. Perhaps, taken altogether, from top to bottom, it was the most inconvenient little house in England, and the crookedest; but then, Miss Tox said, what a situation! There was very little daylight to be got there in the winter: no sun at the best of times: air was out of the question, and traffic was walled out. Still Miss Tox said, think of the situation! So said the blue-faced Major, whose eyes were starting out of his head: who gloried in Princess's Place: and who delighted to turn the conversation at his club, whenever he could, to something connected with some of the great people in the great street round the corner, that he might have the satisfaction of saying they were his neighbours.
In short, with Miss Tox and the blue-faced Major, it was enough for Princess's Place - as with a very small fragment of society, it is enough for many a little hanger-on of another sort - to be well connected, and to have genteel blood in its veins. It might be poor, mean, shabby, stupid, dull. No matter. The great street round the corner trailed off into Princess's Place; and that which of High Holborn would have become a choleric word, spoken of Princess's Place became flat blasphemy.
The dingy tenement inhabited by Miss Tox was her own; having been devised and bequeathed to her by the deceased owner of the fishy eye in the locket, of whom a miniature portrait, with a powdered head and a pigtail, balanced the kettle-holder on opposite sides of the parlour fireplace. The greater part of the furniture was of the powdered-head and pig-tail period: comprising a plate-warmer, always languishing and sprawling its four attenuated bow legs in somebody's way; and an obsolete harpsichord, illuminated round the maker's name with a painted garland of sweet peas. In any part of the house, visitors were usually cognizant of a prevailing mustiness; and in warm weather Miss Tox had been seen apparently writing in sundry chinks and crevices of the wainscoat with the the wrong end of a pen dipped in spirits of turpentine.
Although Major Bagstock had arrived at what is called in polite literature, the grand meridian of life, and was proceeding on his journey downhill with hardly any throat, and a very rigid pair of jaw-bones, and long-flapped elephantine ears, and his eyes and complexion in the state of artificial excitement already mentioned, he was mightily proud of awakening an interest in Miss Tox, and tickled his vanity with the fiction that she was a splendid woman who had her eye on him. This he had several times hinted at the club: in connexion with little jocularities, of which old Joe Bagstock, old Joey Bagstock, old J. Bagstock, old Josh Bagstock, or so forth, was the perpetual theme: it being, as it were, the Major's stronghold and donjon-keep of light humour, to be on the most familiar terms with his own name.
'Joey B., Sir,'the Major would say, with a flourish of his walking-stick, 'is worth a dozen of you. If you had a few more of the Bagstock breed among you, Sir, you'd be none the worse for it. Old Joe, Sir, needn't look far for a wile even now, if he was on the look-out; but he's hard-hearted, Sir, is Joe - he's tough, Sir, tough, and de-vilish sly!' After such a declaration, wheezing sounds would be heard; and the Major's blue would deepen into purple, while his eyes strained and started convulsively.
Notwithstanding his very liberal laudation of himself, however, the Major was selfish. It may be doubted whether there ever was a more entirely selfish person at heart; or at stomach is perhaps a better expression, seeing that he was more decidedly endowed with that latter organ than with the former. He had no idea of being overlooked or slighted by anybody; least of all, had he the remotest comprehension of being overlooked and slighted by Miss Tox.
And yet, Miss Tox, as it appeared, forgot him - gradually forgot him. She began to forget him soon after her discovery of the Toodle family. She continued to forget him up to the time of the christening. She went on forgetting him with compound interest after that. Something or somebody had superseded him as a source of interest.
'Good morning, Ma'am,' said the Major, meeting Miss Tox in Princess's Place, some weeks after the changes chronicled in the last chapter.
'Good morning, Sir,' said Miss Tox; very coldly.
'Joe Bagstock, Ma'am,' observed the Major, with his usual gallantry, 'has not had the happiness of bowing to you at your window, for a considerable period. Joe has been hardly used, Ma'am. His sun has been behind a cloud.'
Miss Tox inclined her head; but very coldly indeed.
'Joe's luminary has been out of town, Ma'am, perhaps,' inquired the Major.
'I? out of town? oh no, I have not been out of town,' said Miss Tox. 'I have been much engaged lately. My time is nearly all devoted to some very intimate friends. I am afraid I have none to spare, even now. Good morning, Sir!'
As Miss Tox, with her most fascinating step and carriage, disappeared from Princess's Place, the Major stood looking after her with a bluer face than ever: muttering and growling some not at all complimentary remarks.
'Why, damme, Sir,' said the Major, rolling his lobster eyes round and round Princess's Place, and apostrophizing its fragrant air, 'six months ago, the woman loved the ground Josh Bagstock walked on. What's the meaning of it?'
The Major decided, after some consideration, that it meant mantraps; that it meant plotting and snaring; that Miss Tox was digging pitfalls. 'But you won't catch Joe, Ma'am,' said the Major. 'He's tough, Ma'am, tough, is J.B. Tough, and de-vilish sly!' over which reflection he chuckled for the rest of the day.
But still, when that day and many other days were gone and past, it seemed that Miss Tox took no heed whatever of the Major, and thought nothing at all about him. She had been wont, once upon a time, to look out at one of her little dark windows by accident, and blushingly return the Major's greeting; but now, she never gave the Major a chance, and cared nothing at all whether he looked over the way or not. Other changes had come to pass too. The Major, standing in the shade of his own apartment, could make out that an air of greater smartness had recently come over Miss Tox's house; that a new cage with gilded wires had been provided for the ancient little canary bird; that divers ornaments, cut out of coloured card-boards and paper, seemed to decorate the chimney-piece and tables; that a plant or two had suddenly sprung up in the windows; that Miss Tox occasionally practised on the harpsichord, whose garland of sweet peas was always displayed ostentatiously, crowned with the Copenhagen and Bird Waltzes in a Music Book of Miss Tox's own copying.
Over and above all this, Miss Tox had long been dressed with uncommon care and elegance in slight mourning. But this helped the Major out of his difficulty; and be determined within himself that she had come into a small legacy, and grown proud.
It was on the very next day after he had eased his mind by arriving at this decision, that the Major, sitting at his breakfast, saw an apparition so tremendous and wonderful in Miss Tox's little drawing-room, that he remained for some time rooted to his chair; then, rushing into the next room, returned with a double-barrelled opera-glass, through which he surveyed it intently for some minutes.
'It's a Baby, Sir,' said the Major, shutting up the glass again, 'for fifty thousand pounds!'
The Major couldn't forget it. He could do nothing but whistle, and stare to that extent, that his eyes, compared with what they now became, had been in former times quite cavernous and sunken. Day after day, two, three, four times a week, this Baby reappeared. The Major continued to stare and whistle. To all other intents and purposes he was alone in Princess's Place. Miss Tox had ceased to mind what he did. He might have been black as well as blue, and it would have been of no consequence to her.
The perseverance with which she walked out of Princess's Place to fetch this baby and its nurse, and walked back with them, and walked home with them again, and continually mounted guard over them; and the perseverance with which she nursed it herself, and fed it, and played with it, and froze its young blood with airs upon the harpsichord, was extraordinary. At about this same period too, she was seized with a passion for looking at a certain bracelet; also with a passion for looking at the moon, of which she would take long observations from her chamber window. But whatever she looked at; sun, moon, stars, or bracelet; she looked no more at the Major. And the Major whistled, and stared, and wondered, and dodged about his room, and could make nothing of it.
'You'll quite win my brother Paul's heart, and that's the truth, my dear,' said Mrs Chick, one day.
Miss Tox turned pale.
'He grows more like Paul every day,' said Mrs Chick.
Miss Tox returned no other reply than by taking the little Paul in her arms, and making his cockade perfectly flat and limp with her caresses.
'His mother, my dear,' said Miss Tox, 'whose acquaintance I was to have made through you, does he at all resemble her?'
'Not at all,' returned Louisa
'She was - she was pretty, I believe?' faltered Miss Tox.
'Why, poor dear Fanny was interesting,' said Mrs Chick, after some judicial consideration. 'Certainly interesting. She had not that air of commanding superiority which one would somehow expect, almost as a matter of course, to find in my brother's wife; nor had she that strength and vigour of mind which such a man requires.'
Miss Tox heaved a deep sigh.
'But she was pleasing:' said Mrs Chick: 'extremely so. And she meant! - oh, dear, how well poor Fanny meant!'
'You Angel!' cried Miss Tox to little Paul. 'You Picture of your own Papa!'
If the Major could have known how many hopes and ventures, what a multitude of plans and speculations, rested on that baby head; and could have seen them hovering, in all their heterogeneous confusion and disorder, round the puckered cap of the unconscious little Paul; he might have stared indeed. Then would he have recognised, among the crowd, some few ambitious motes and beams belonging to Miss Tox; then would he perhaps have understood the nature of that lady's faltering investment in the Dombey Firm.
If the child himself could have awakened in the night, and seen, gathered about his cradle-curtains, faint reflections of the dreams that other people had of him, they might have scared him, with good reason. But he slumbered on, alike unconscious of the kind intentions of Miss Tox, the wonder of the Major, the early sorrows of his sister, and the stern visions of his father; and innocent that any spot of earth contained a Dombey or a Son.

托克斯小姐居住在一座黑暗的小房屋里,这座房屋在英国历史中某一个遥远的时期被挤进这个城市西端的一个豪华的地区。它在那里像一个穷亲戚一样,座落在从拐角通出去的那条大街的阴影之中,被一座座宏伟的邸宅冷漠地藐视着。它实际上不是在一个院子里,也不是在一个围场中,而是在通衢大道之外的一个最萧条的地方,远处传来接二连三的敲门声都会使这里胆战心惊,惶惶不安。这个偏僻的地方称为公主广场,它的铺石路缝中长出了青草;在公主广场中有一个小的公主教堂,钟声从那里当当地传出;星期天到那里去参加祈祷仪式的有时达二十五人之多。那里还有公主纹章,优秀的步兵常去参观。在公主纹章前面的围栏内放着一顶轿子,可是据人们记忆,从来没有被抬出到外面来过;在天气晴朗的上午,在围栏上面每一条横木的顶上摆着一个白镴壶,作为装饰;横木总共四十八条,因为托克斯小姐常常数它们。
除了托克斯小姐的房屋外,公主广场上还有另一座私人房屋;不用说,它也有两扇很大的门,门上也有一对很大的狮子头形状的门环;这门从来不曾在什么情况下开过,人们猜想,它是一个通向什么人的马厩的废弃不用的入口。确实,在公主广场的空气中是可以闻到马厩的气味的。从托克斯小姐的卧室(它在房屋的后面)望出去,可以望到马店的外景;马夫们在那里不论从事哪一种工作,总是连续不断地发出兴奋的吆喝来伴随自己。马车夫和他们老婆、孩子的最适合家里穿着和最隐蔽的衣裤通常都像麦克佩斯的旗帜一样,悬挂在外面的墙上①。公主广场的这另一座房屋由一位过去当过男管家、现已退休、并已与一位女管家结婚的男子承租;他把一些带家具的房间转租给一位单身的绅士,也就是说,一位面孔像木头一样没有表情,脸色发青的陆军少校;他的眼睛从脸上鼓出,托克斯小姐对这一点表示赏识,她本人曾说它“有些真正的军人气概”。他和她之间偶尔交换交换报纸和小册子,这种柏拉图式的互通款曲②是通过少校的一位黑肤色的仆人作为中间媒介来实现的,托克斯小姐甘心乐意地把这位仆人划为“本地人”,而并没有把他与任何地理概念相联系。
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①见莎士比亚著名悲剧《麦克佩斯》第五幕第五场:
麦克佩斯:“把我们的旗帜挂在城墙外面;……我们这座城堡防御得这样坚强,还怕他们围攻吗?……”
②指精神恋爱。
也许,从来没有比托克斯小姐家的穿堂与楼梯更小的穿堂与楼梯了。也许,从上到下,总的来说,它是英国最不舒适的小房屋,也是形状最歪歪扭扭的。但是这时托克斯小姐就会说,它坐落在一个什么地方呵!冬天屋子里很少有亮光;在一年最好的时光中也见不到太阳;空气是根本谈不上的;街道交通也是不用提了。但是托克斯小姐仍然会说,想一想它是坐落在什么地方呵!脸色发青、眼睛从脸上鼓出的少校也是这么说的;他对公主广场感到自豪;他在俱乐部里,不论什么时候,只要可能,就高兴把谈话转到与住在通过拐角的大街上的大人物有关的一些事情上;他会得意洋洋地说,他们是他的邻居。
托克斯小姐所住的这座黑暗的房屋是她自己的房屋;这是她的小金盒中的那颗没有光泽的眼睛的已故的主人立了遗嘱,赠送给她的;他有一幅头上撒了粉、留着辫子的小小的肖像画,如今已成为与壁炉架另一端上面的水壶支架保持平衡的物品。大部分家具都是男人们头上撒粉和留辫子时期的家具,包括一个饭菜加温器,它经常疲劳无力,伸开四条细弱的罗圈腿,挡住人们的道路;还有一个已陈旧过时的大键琴,琴上制造者的姓名周围画着一环香豌豆,作为装饰。
虽然白格斯托克少校已经到达纯文学中所称的盛壮之年,现正走着下坡路;他几乎没有脖子,颚骨十分坚硬,象一般的长耳朵下垂着,眼睛与脸色呈现出一种前面已经叙述过的不自然的兴奋状态,然而他却以在托克斯小姐心中唤醒了对他的兴趣而十分自豪,而且假想她是一位有意于他的出色的女人,这样来满足自己的虚荣心。他在俱乐部里讲一些小小的笑话时好几次暗示了这一点。在他的笑话中,老乔•白格斯托克,老乔埃•白格斯托克,老约•白格斯托克,老乔希•白格斯托克,等等,是个永恒不变的主题,仿佛少校的幽默的要塞与主塔与他自己的姓名有着最亲昵的关系。
“先生,”少校会挥舞一下他的手杖,说道,“乔埃•白抵得上你们十几个人。如果你们当中再多几个白格斯托克血统的人的话,先生,那么你们就决不会比现在更坏。先生,老乔埃如果要找老婆的话,哪怕就是现在去我,那么他并不需要走多远就能找到一个。可是他是个铁石心肠的人,先生,乔是这样的人——他坚强不屈,先生,坚强不屈,而且像魔鬼一样狡猾!”在这样的声明之后,可以听到呼哧呼哧喘气的声音,少校的脸也会从青色转变为更深的紫色,他的眼睛则会痉挛性地睁大、鼓出。
不论少校自吹自擂,吹得如何天花乱坠,但他却是自私的。世界上是否有过比他内心更完全自私的人,这是可以怀疑的;也许不说心而说胃,是个更好的说法,因为大自然赋予他的后一个器官显然要比前一个器官强得多。他从没有想到他会被什么人忽视或轻视,更决不可能会被托克斯小姐忽视或轻视。
然而,托克斯小姐看来已把他忘记了——逐渐地把他忘记了。在她发现了图德尔家庭之后不久,她就开始把他忘记了。她继续把他忘记,直到施洗礼的时候。在那以后,她又进一步加倍迅速地把他忘记。什么事情或什么人已代替他成为她兴趣的源泉。
“早上好,夫人,”在上一章记载的变化发生了几个星期之后,少校在公主广场遇到托克斯小姐时说道。
“早上好,先生,”托克斯小姐很冷淡地说道。
“夫人,”少校以他通常的殷勤态度说道,“乔•白格斯托克少校已有好长的一段时间未能有幸在您的窗口向您向候致意了。夫人,乔受到了苛刻的对待。他的太阳已经躲藏到一朵云的后面去了。”
托克斯小姐歪斜着头,但确实很冷淡。
“照耀乔的星球也许到城外去了吗,夫人?”少校问道。
“您是说我吗?到城外去了吗?噢,不,我没有到到城外去,”托克斯小姐说道。“我最近很忙。我的时间几乎全都花在几个最亲密的朋友身上了。我只怕甚至连现在也一点时间都抽不出来了。早上好,先生!”
当托克斯小姐随着她那极为迷人的步子和体态从公主广场消失不见的时候,少校站在那里目送着她,脸色比过去任何时候更为发青,同时咕哝着,怒气冲冲地说着一些决不是恭维的话。
“哼,她妈的,先生,”少校向公主广场转动着他的龙虾眼,转了一圈又一圈,并向着它的芳香的空气说道,“六个月以前,这女人喜爱乔•白格斯托克走过的土地。这是什么意思?”少校经过稍稍思考之后,断定它的意思是要诱捕男人;它的意思是策划阴谋,安设圈套;托克斯小姐正在挖掘陷阱。
“可是您捕捉不到乔,夫人,”少校说道,“他是坚强不屈的,夫人,坚强不屈的正就是约•白。坚强不屈,而且像魔鬼一样的狡猾!”他发表了这些感想之后,就吃吃地笑了一整天。
可是那一天和其他许多天都过去了,托克斯小姐似乎仍旧对少校丝毫也不注意,也丝毫没有想到他。从前,她习惯偶尔从她黑暗的小窗口往外看看,然后满脸羞得通红地回答一下少校的问候;可是现在她决不给少校一个机会,丝毫也不理会他是否在看下面的道路。另外的一些变化也发生了。少校站在他自己房间的阴影中,能够隐约地看出,托克斯小姐的房间中最近呈现出一派远比过去漂亮的景象;那只老的金丝雀被装进一只新的金丝鸟笼里;从彩色的硬纸板和纸张中剪出的一些玩艺儿似乎已把壁炉架和桌子装饰一新;一两株植物突然出现在窗口;托克斯小姐偶尔在练习弹奏大键琴,它的那一环甜豌豆总是被得意洋洋地炫示着;琴上摆着托克斯小姐亲自抄写在乐谱中的哥本哈根圆舞曲和鸟儿圆舞曲。
除了这一切之外,托克斯小姐好久以来就非常细心和雅致地穿了一身轻丧服。不过这一点帮助少校走出了困境;他心中断定,她已继承了一小笔遗产,因而趾高气扬起来了。
少校作出这个判断,安下心来以后的第二天,正坐着吃早餐时,看到托克斯小姐的小客厅里出现了一个鬼怪,他是那么惊人,那么奇异,因此他坐在椅子里一直坐了好一会儿,然后才急忙跑到旁边的房间,拿了一个双筒的看戏用的小望远镜回来;他通过望远镜专心致志地察看了好几分钟。
“这是个婴孩,先生,”少校把望远镜重新关上,说道,“我敢拿五万五千镑打赌!”
少校不能忘记这件事情。他除了吹口哨和把眼睛瞪得鼓鼓的之外,什么也干不了;如果跟他现在的眼睛相比,他以前的眼睛就显得相当凹陷和低洼了。一天又一天,这个婴孩在一个星期之内重新出现了两次、三次、四次。少校继续瞪眼睛和吹口哨。不论从哪一点来看,他在公主广场上已是孤身一人了。托克斯小姐已不再关心他做什么了。如果他的脸色从青色转变为黑色,那对她也是一件无关紧要的事情。
她坚持不断地走出公主广场,去领这个婴孩和他的保姆,和他们一起走回来,又和他们走回家去;而且经常看守着他们;她坚持不断地亲自照料孩子,喂他吃东西,和他玩耍,在大键琴上弹出曲调使他年轻的血液凝结;这种坚持不断、始终如一的精神是异乎寻常的。大约就在这同一时期中,她满怀深情地看某一个手镯;她也满怀深情地看月亮,会从她房间的窗口长久地观望着它。但是不论她看什么,看太阳也好,看月亮也好,看星星或看手镯也好,她却不再看少校了。少校吹着口哨,瞪着眼睛,心中纳闷,在房间里转来转去,但却什么也弄不明白。
“您将会赢得我哥哥保罗的心,这是真的,我亲爱的,”奇克夫人有一天说道。
托克斯小姐脸色变得苍白。
“他一天天长得愈来愈像保罗了,”奇克夫人说道。
托克斯小姐没有回答,只是把小保罗抱在怀中,抚摸着他帽上的花结,使它完全平展、柔软。
“他像他的母亲吗?”托克斯小姐问道,“我亲爱的,我得通过您才能了解她呀。”
“一点也不像,”路易莎回答道。
“她——她长得漂亮吧。我想?”托克斯小姐迟疑地说道。
“是的,可怜的亲爱的范妮是有趣的,”奇克夫人经过一些慎重的考虑以后说道。“确实是有趣的。人们不知怎么样,几乎理所当然地本指望会在我的哥哥的妻子身上看到那种威风凛凛、高人一等的气派,可是她并没有这种气派。她也没有这样一位男人所需要的那种精力与气魄。”
托克斯小姐深深地叹了一口气。
“不过她是讨人喜欢的,”奇克夫人说道,“非常讨人喜欢。还有她的心眼儿!——啊,亲爱的,可怜的范妮心眼儿多么好啊!”
“您这小天使!”托克斯小姐对小保罗喊道,“您跟您爸爸真是长得一模一样啊!”
如果少校能知道,在那婴孩的头上寄托了多少希望与梦想,多少计划与打算的话,如果他能看到它们参差错乱、混杂无序地在一无所知的小保罗的带褶的帽子四周盘旋的话,那么他确实可能会把眼睛瞪得大大地来看的。那时候他就会从那成群的事物中辨认出属于托克斯小姐的一些野心勃勃的尘埃与光束了;那时候他也许就会明白那位女士畏畏缩缩地对董贝公司进行投资的性质了。
如果这孩子本人能在夜间醒过来,看到聚集在他的摇篮帐子周围、其他人们对他所抱的梦想的微弱的映像的话,那么它们很有理由会把他吓坏了。可是他却继续呼呼地酣睡,对托克斯小姐的善良的意图,少校的纳闷不解,他姐姐过早的悲哀和他父亲严峻的梦幻,都一概不知;他也不了解在地面上的什么地方还存在着一位董贝或一个他的儿子。
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 8
Paul's Further Progress, Growth and Character
Beneath the watching and attentive eyes of Time - so far another Major - Paul's slumbers gradually changed. More and more light broke in upon them; distincter and distincter dreams disturbed them; an accumulating crowd of objects and impressions swarmed about his rest; and so he passed from babyhood to childhood, and became a talking, walking, wondering Dombey.
On the downfall and banishment of Richards, the nursery may be said to have been put into commission: as a Public Department is sometimes, when no individual Atlas can be found to support it The Commissioners were, of course, Mrs Chick and Miss Tox: who devoted themselves to their duties with such astonishing ardour that Major Bagstock had every day some new reminder of his being forsaken, while Mr Chick, bereft of domestic supervision, cast himself upon the gay world, dined at clubs and coffee-houses, smelt of smoke on three different occasions, went to the play by himself, and in short, loosened (as Mrs Chick once told him) every social bond, and moral obligation.
Yet, in spite of his early promise, all this vigilance and care could not make little Paul a thriving boy. Naturally delicate, perhaps, he pined and wasted after the dismissal of his nurse, and, for a long time, seemed but to wait his opportunity of gliding through their hands, and seeking his lost mother. This dangerous ground in his steeple-chase towards manhood passed, he still found it very rough riding, and was grievously beset by all the obstacles in his course. Every tooth was a break-neck fence, and every pimple in the measles a stone wall to him. He was down in every fit of the hooping-cough, and rolled upon and crushed by a whole field of small diseases, that came trooping on each other's heels to prevent his getting up again. Some bird of prey got into his throat instead of the thrush; and the very chickens turning ferocious - if they have anything to do with that infant malady to which they lend their name - worried him like tiger-cats.
The chill of Paul's christening had struck home, perhaps to some sensitive part of his nature, which could not recover itself in the cold shade of his father; but he was an unfortunate child from that day. Mrs Wickam often said she never see a dear so put upon.
Mrs Wickam was a waiter's wife - which would seem equivalent to being any other man's widow - whose application for an engagement in Mr Dombey's service had been favourably considered, on account of the apparent impossibility of her having any followers, or anyone to follow; and who, from within a day or two of Paul's sharp weaning, had been engaged as his nurse. Mrs Wickam was a meek woman, of a fair complexion, with her eyebrows always elevated, and her head always drooping; who was always ready to pity herself, or to be pitied, or to pity anybody else; and who had a surprising natural gift of viewing all subjects in an utterly forlorn and pitiable light, and bringing dreadful precedents to bear upon them, and deriving the greatest consolation from the exercise of that talent.
It is hardly necessary to observe, that no touch of this quality ever reached the magnificent knowledge of Mr Dombey. It would have been remarkable, indeed, if any had; when no one in the house - not even Mrs Chick or Miss Tox - dared ever whisper to him that there had, on any one occasion, been the least reason for uneasiness in reference to little Paul. He had settled, within himself, that the child must necessarily pass through a certain routine of minor maladies, and that the sooner he did so the better. If he could have bought him off, or provided a substitute, as in the case of an unlucky drawing for the militia, he would have been glad to do so, on liberal terms. But as this was not feasible, he merely wondered, in his haughty-manner, now and then, what Nature meant by it; and comforted himself with the reflection that there was another milestone passed upon the road, and that the great end of the journey lay so much the nearer. For the feeling uppermost in his mind, now and constantly intensifying, and increasing in it as Paul grew older, was impatience. Impatience for the time to come, when his visions of their united consequence and grandeur would be triumphantly realized.
Some philosophers tell us that selfishness is at the root of our best loves and affections.' Mr Dombey's young child was, from the beginning, so distinctly important to him as a part of his own greatness, or (which is the same thing) of the greatness of Dombey and Son, that there is no doubt his parental affection might have been easily traced, like many a goodly superstructure of fair fame, to a very low foundation. But he loved his son with all the love he had. If there were a warm place in his frosty heart, his son occupied it; if its very hard surface could receive the impression of any image, the image of that son was there; though not so much as an infant, or as a boy, but as a grown man - the 'Son' of the Firm. Therefore he was impatient to advance into the future, and to hurry over the intervening passages of his history. Therefore he had little or no anxiety' about them, in spite of his love; feeling as if the boy had a charmed life, and must become the man with whom he held such constant communication in his thoughts, and for whom he planned and projected, as for an existing reality, every day.
Thus Paul grew to be nearly five years old. He was a pretty little fellow; though there was something wan and wistful in his small face, that gave occasion to many significant shakes of Mrs Wickam's head, and many long-drawn inspirations of Mrs Wickam's breath. His temper gave abundant promise of being imperious in after-life; and he had as hopeful an apprehension of his own importance, and the rightful subservience of all other things and persons to it, as heart could desire. He was childish and sportive enough at times, and not of a sullen disposition; but he had a strange, old-fashioned, thoughtful way, at other times, of sitting brooding in his miniature arm-chair, when he looked (and talked) like one of those terrible little Beings in the Fairy tales, who, at a hundred and fifty or two hundred years of age, fantastically represent the children for whom they have been substituted. He would frequently be stricken with this precocious mood upstairs in the nursery; and would sometimes lapse into it suddenly, exclaiming that he was tired: even while playing with Florence, or driving Miss Tox in single harness. But at no time did he fall into it so surely, as when, his little chair being carried down into his father's room, he sat there with him after dinner, by the fire. They were the strangest pair at such a time that ever firelight shone upon. Mr Dombey so erect and solemn, gazing at the blare; his little image, with an old, old face, peering into the red perspective with the fixed and rapt attention of a sage. Mr Dombey entertaining complicated worldly schemes and plans; the little image entertaining Heaven knows what wild fancies, half-formed thoughts, and wandering speculations. Mr Dombey stiff with starch and arrogance; the little image by inheritance, and in unconscious imitation. The two so very much alike, and yet so monstrously contrasted.
On one of these occasions, when they had both been perfectly quiet for a long time, and Mr Dombey only knew that the child was awake by occasionally glancing at his eye, where the bright fire was sparkling like a jewel, little Paul broke silence thus:
'Papa! what's money?'
The abrupt question had such immediate reference to the subject of Mr Dombey's thoughts, that Mr Dombey was quite disconcerted.
'What is money, Paul?' he answered. 'Money?'
'Yes,' said the child, laying his hands upon the elbows of his little chair, and turning the old face up towards Mr Dombey's; 'what is money?'
Mr Dombey was in a difficulty. He would have liked to give him some explanation involving the terms circulating-medium, currency, depreciation of currency', paper, bullion, rates of exchange, value of precious metals in the market, and so forth; but looking down at the little chair, and seeing what a long way down it was, he answered: 'Gold, and silver, and copper. Guineas, shillings, half-pence. You know what they are?'
'Oh yes, I know what they are,' said Paul. 'I don't mean that, Papa. I mean what's money after all?'
Heaven and Earth, how old his face was as he turned it up again towards his father's!
'What is money after all!' said Mr Dombey, backing his chair a little, that he might the better gaze in sheer amazement at the presumptuous atom that propounded such an inquiry.
'I mean, Papa, what can it do?' returned Paul, folding his arms (they were hardly long enough to fold), and looking at the fire, and up at him, and at the fire, and up at him again.
Mr Dombey drew his chair back to its former place, and patted him on the head. 'You'll know better by-and-by, my man,' he said. 'Money, Paul, can do anything.' He took hold of the little hand, and beat it softly against one of his own, as he said so.
But Paul got his hand free as soon as he could; and rubbing it gently to and fro on the elbow of his chair, as if his wit were in the palm, and he were sharpening it - and looking at the fire again, as though the fire had been his adviser and prompter - repeated, after a short pause:
'Anything, Papa?'
'Yes. Anything - almost,' said Mr Dombey.
'Anything means everything, don't it, Papa?' asked his son: not observing, or possibly not understanding, the qualification.
'It includes it: yes,' said Mr Dombey.
'Why didn't money save me my Mama?' returned the child. 'It isn't cruel, is it?'
'Cruel!' said Mr Dombey, settling his neckcloth, and seeming to resent the idea. 'No. A good thing can't be cruel.'
'If it's a good thing, and can do anything,' said the little fellow, thoughtfully, as he looked back at the fire, 'I wonder why it didn't save me my Mama.'
He didn't ask the question of his father this time. Perhaps he had seen, with a child's quickness, that it had already made his father uncomfortable. But he repeated the thought aloud, as if it were quite an old one to him, and had troubled him very much; and sat with his chin resting on his hand, still cogitating and looking for an explanation in the fire.
Mr Dombey having recovered from his surprise, not to say his alarm (for it was the very first occasion on which the child had ever broached the subject of his mother to him, though he had had him sitting by his side, in this same manner, evening after evening), expounded to him how that money, though a very potent spirit, never to be disparaged on any account whatever, could not keep people alive whose time was come to die; and how that we must all die, unfortunately, even in the City, though we were never so rich. But how that money caused us to be honoured, feared, respected, courted, and admired, and made us powerful and glorious in the eyes of all men; and how that it could, very often, even keep off death, for a long time together. How, for example, it had secured to his Mama the services of Mr Pilkins, by which be, Paul, had often profited himself; likewise of the great Doctor Parker Peps, whom he had never known. And how it could do all, that could be done. This, with more to the same purpose, Mr Dombey instilled into the mind of his son, who listened attentively, and seemed to understand the greater part of what was said to him.
'It can't make me strong and quite well, either, Papa; can it?' asked Paul, after a short silence; rubbing his tiny hands.
'Why, you are strong and quite well,' returned Mr Dombey. 'Are you not?'
Oh! the age of the face that was turned up again, with an expression, half of melancholy, half of slyness, on it!
'You are as strong and well as such little people usually are? Eh?' said Mr Dombey.
'Florence is older than I am, but I'm not as strong and well as Florence, 'I know,' returned the child; 'and I believe that when Florence was as little as me, she could play a great deal longer at a time without tiring herself. I am so tired sometimes,' said little Paul, warming his hands, and looking in between the bars of the grate, as if some ghostly puppet-show were performing there, 'and my bones ache so (Wickam says it's my bones), that I don't know what to do.'
'Ay! But that's at night,' said Mr Dombey, drawing his own chair closer to his son's, and laying his hand gently on his back; 'little people should be tired at night, for then they sleep well.'
'Oh, it's not at night, Papa,' returned the child, 'it's in the day; and I lie down in Florence's lap, and she sings to me. At night I dream about such cu-ri-ous things!'
And he went on, warming his hands again, and thinking about them, like an old man or a young goblin.
Mr Dombey was so astonished, and so uncomfortable, and so perfectly at a loss how to pursue the conversation, that he could only sit looking at his son by the light of the fire, with his hand resting on his back, as if it were detained there by some magnetic attraction. Once he advanced his other hand, and turned the contemplative face towards his own for a moment. But it sought the fire again as soon as he released it; and remained, addressed towards the flickering blaze, until the nurse appeared, to summon him to bed.
'I want Florence to come for me,' said Paul.
'Won't you come with your poor Nurse Wickam, Master Paul?' inquired that attendant, with great pathos.
'No, I won't,' replied Paul, composing himself in his arm-chair again, like the master of the house.
Invoking a blessing upon his innocence, Mrs Wickam withdrew, and presently Florence appeared in her stead. The child immediately started up with sudden readiness and animation, and raised towards his father in bidding him good-night, a countenance so much brighter, so much younger, and so much more child-like altogether, that Mr Dombey, while he felt greatly reassured by the change, was quite amazed at it.
After they had left the room together, he thought he heard a soft voice singing; and remembering that Paul had said his sister sung to him, he had the curiosity to open the door and listen, and look after them. She was toiling up the great, wide, vacant staircase, with him in her arms; his head was lying on her shoulder, one of his arms thrown negligently round her neck. So they went, toiling up; she singing all the way, and Paul sometimes crooning out a feeble accompaniment. Mr Dombey looked after them until they reached the top of the staircase - not without halting to rest by the way - and passed out of his sight; and then he still stood gazing upwards, until the dull rays of the moon, glimmering in a melancholy manner through the dim skylight, sent him back to his room.
Mrs Chick and Miss Tox were convoked in council at dinner next day; and when the cloth was removed, Mr Dombey opened the proceedings by requiring to be informed, without any gloss or reservation, whether there was anything the matter with Paul, and what Mr Pilkins said about him.
'For the child is hardly,' said Mr Dombey, 'as stout as I could wish.'
'My dear Paul,' returned Mrs Chick, 'with your usual happy discrimination, which I am weak enough to envy you, every time I am in your company; and so I think is Miss Tox
'Oh my dear!' said Miss Tox, softly, 'how could it be otherwise? Presumptuous as it is to aspire to such a level; still, if the bird of night may - but I'll not trouble Mr Dombey with the sentiment. It merely relates to the Bulbul.'
Mr Dombey bent his head in stately recognition of the Bulbuls as an old-established body.
'With your usual happy discrimination, my dear Paul,' resumed Mrs Chick, 'you have hit the point at once. Our darling is altogether as stout as we could wish. The fact is, that his mind is too much for him. His soul is a great deal too large for his frame. I am sure the way in which that dear child talks!'said Mrs Chick, shaking her head; 'no one would believe. His expressions, Lucretia, only yesterday upon the subject of Funerals!
'I am afraid,' said Mr Dombey, interrupting her testily, 'that some of those persons upstairs suggest improper subjects to the child. He was speaking to me last night about his - about his Bones,' said Mr Dombey, laying an irritated stress upon the word. 'What on earth has anybody to do with the - with the - Bones of my son? He is not a living skeleton, I suppose.
'Very far from it,' said Mrs Chick, with unspeakable expression.
'I hope so,' returned her brother. 'Funerals again! who talks to the child of funerals? We are not undertakers, or mutes, or grave-diggers, I believe.'
'Very far from it,' interposed Mrs Chick, with the same profound expression as before.
'Then who puts such things into his head?' said Mr Dombey. 'Really I was quite dismayed and shocked last night. Who puts such things into his head, Louisa?'
'My dear Paul,' said Mrs Chick, after a moment's silence, 'it is of no use inquiring. I do not think, I will tell you candidly that Wickam is a person of very cheerful spirit, or what one would call a - '
'A daughter of Momus,' Miss Tox softly suggested.
'Exactly so,' said Mrs Chick; 'but she is exceedingly attentive and useful, and not at all presumptuous; indeed I never saw a more biddable woman. I would say that for her, if I was put upon my trial before a Court of Justice.'
'Well! you are not put upon your trial before a Court of Justice, at present, Louisa,' returned Mr Dombey, chafing,' and therefore it don't matter.
'My dear Paul,' said Mrs Chick, in a warning voice, 'I must be spoken to kindly, or there is an end of me,' at the same time a premonitory redness developed itself in Mrs Chick's eyelids which was an invariable sign of rain, unless the weather changed directly.
'I was inquiring, Louisa,' observed Mr Dombey, in an altered voice, and after a decent interval, 'about Paul's health and actual state.
'If the dear child,' said Mrs Chick, in the tone of one who was summing up what had been previously quite agreed upon, instead of saying it all for the first time, 'is a little weakened by that last attack, and is not in quite such vigorous health as we could wish; and if he has some temporary weakness in his system, and does occasionally seem about to lose, for the moment, the use of his - '
Mrs Chick was afraid to say limbs, after Mr Dombey's recent objection to bones, and therefore waited for a suggestion from Miss Tox, who, true to her office, hazarded 'members.'
'Members!' repeated Mr Dombey.
'I think the medical gentleman mentioned legs this morning, my dear Louisa, did he not?' said Miss Tox.
'Why, of course he did, my love,' retorted Mrs Chick, mildly reproachful. 'How can you ask me? You heard him. I say, if our dear Paul should lose, for the moment, the use of his legs, these are casualties common to many children at his time of life, and not to be prevented by any care or caution. The sooner you understand that, Paul, and admit that, the better. If you have any doubt as to the amount of care, and caution, and affection, and self-sacrifice, that has been bestowed upon little Paul, I should wish to refer the question to your medical attendant, or to any of your dependants in this house. Call Towlinson,' said Mrs Chick, 'I believe he has no prejudice in our favour; quite the contrary. I should wish to hear what accusation Towlinson can make!'
'Surely you must know, Louisa,' observed Mr Dombey, 'that I don't question your natural devotion to, and regard for, the future head of my house.'
'I am glad to hear it, Paul,' said Mrs Chick; 'but really you are very odd, and sometimes talk very strangely, though without meaning it, I know. If your dear boy's soul is too much for his body, Paul, you should remember whose fault that is - who he takes after, I mean - and make the best of it. He's as like his Papa as he can be. People have noticed it in the streets. The very beadle, I am informed, observed it, so long ago as at his christening. He's a very respectable man, with children of his own. He ought to know.'
'Mr Pilkins saw Paul this morning, I believe?' said Mr Dombey.
'Yes, he did,' returned his sister. 'Miss Tox and myself were present. Miss Tox and myself are always present. We make a point of it. Mr Pilkins has seen him for some days past, and a very clever man I believe him to be. He says it is nothing to speak of; which I can confirm, if that is any consolation; but he recommended, to-day, sea-air. Very wisely, Paul, I feel convinced.'
'Sea-air,' repeated Mr Dombey, looking at his sister.
'There is nothing to be made uneasy by, in that,'said Mrs Chick. 'My George and Frederick were both ordered sea-air, when they were about his age; and I have been ordered it myself a great many times. I quite agree with you, Paul, that perhaps topics may be incautiously mentioned upstairs before him, which it would be as well for his little mind not to expatiate upon; but I really don't see how that is to be helped, in the case of a child of his quickness. If he were a common child, there would be nothing in it. I must say I think, with Miss Tox, that a short absence from this house, the air of Brighton, and the bodily and mental training of so judicious a person as Mrs Pipchin for instance - '
'Who is Mrs Pipchin, Louisa?' asked Mr Dombey; aghast at this familiar introduction of a name he had never heard before.
'Mrs Pipchin, my dear Paul,' returned his sister, 'is an elderly lady - Miss Tox knows her whole history - who has for some time devoted all the energies of her mind, with the greatest success, to the study and treatment of infancy, and who has been extremely well connected. Her husband broke his heart in - how did you say her husband broke his heart, my dear? I forget the precise circumstances.
'In pumping water out of the Peruvian Mines,' replied Miss Tox.
'Not being a Pumper himself, of course,' said Mrs Chick, glancing at her brother; and it really did seem necessary to offer the explanation, for Miss Tox had spoken of him as if he had died at the handle; 'but having invested money in the speculation, which failed. I believe that Mrs Pipchin's management of children is quite astonishing. I have heard it commended in private circles ever since I was - dear me - how high!' Mrs Chick's eye wandered about the bookcase near the bust of Mr Pitt, which was about ten feet from the ground.
'Perhaps I should say of Mrs Pipchin, my dear Sir,' observed Miss Tox, with an ingenuous blush, 'having been so pointedly referred to, that the encomium which has been passed upon her by your sweet sister is well merited. Many ladies and gentleman, now grown up to be interesting members of society, have been indebted to her care. The humble individual who addresses you was once under her charge. I believe juvenile nobility itself is no stranger to her establishment.'
'Do I understand that this respectable matron keeps an establishment, Miss Tox?' the Mr Dombey, condescendingly.
'Why, I really don't know,' rejoined that lady, 'whether I am justified in calling it so. It is not a Preparatory School by any means. Should I express my meaning,' said Miss Tox, with peculiar sweetness,'if I designated it an infantine Boarding-House of a very select description?'
'On an exceedingly limited and particular scale,' suggested Mrs Chick, with a glance at her brother.
'Oh! Exclusion itself!' said Miss Tox.
There was something in this. Mrs Pipchin's husband having broken his heart of the Peruvian mines was good. It had a rich sound. Besides, Mr Dombey was in a state almost amounting to consternation at the idea of Paul remaining where he was one hour after his removal had been recommended by the medical practitioner. It was a stoppage and delay upon the road the child must traverse, slowly at the best, before the goal was reached. Their recommendation of Mrs Pipchin had great weight with him; for he knew that they were jealous of any interference with their charge, and he never for a moment took it into account that they might be solicitous to divide a responsibility, of which he had, as shown just now, his own established views. Broke his heart of the Peruvian mines, mused Mr Dombey. Well! a very respectable way of doing It.
'Supposing we should decide, on to-morrow's inquiries, to send Paul down to Brighton to this lady, who would go with him?' inquired Mr Dombey, after some reflection.
'I don't think you could send the child anywhere at present without Florence, my dear Paul,' returned his sister, hesitating. 'It's quite an infatuation with him. He's very young, you know, and has his fancies.'
Mr Dombey turned his head away, and going slowly to the bookcase, and unlocking it, brought back a book to read.
'Anybody else, Louisa?' he said, without looking up, and turning over the leaves.
'Wickam, of course. Wickam would be quite sufficient, I should say,' returned his sister. 'Paul being in such hands as Mrs Pipchin's, you could hardly send anybody who would be a further check upon her. You would go down yourself once a week at least, of course.'
'Of course,' said Mr Dombey; and sat looking at one page for an hour afterwards, without reading one word.
This celebrated Mrs Pipchin was a marvellous ill-favoured, ill-conditioned old lady, of a stooping figure, with a mottled face, like bad marble, a hook nose, and a hard grey eye, that looked as if it might have been hammered at on an anvil without sustaining any injury. Forty years at least had elapsed since the Peruvian mines had been the death of Mr Pipchin; but his relict still wore black bombazeen, of such a lustreless, deep, dead, sombre shade, that gas itself couldn't light her up after dark, and her presence was a quencher to any number of candles. She was generally spoken of as 'a great manager' of children; and the secret of her management was, to give them everything that they didn't like, and nothing that they did - which was found to sweeten their dispositions very much. She was such a bitter old lady, that one was tempted to believe there had been some mistake in the application of the Peruvian machinery, and that all her waters of gladness and milk of human kindness, had been pumped out dry, instead of the mines.
The Castle of this ogress and child-queller was in a steep by-street at Brighton; where the soil was more than usually chalky, flinty, and sterile, and the houses were more than usually brittle and thin; where the small front-gardens had the unaccountable property of producing nothing but marigolds, whatever was sown in them; and where snails were constantly discovered holding on to the street doors, and other public places they were not expected to ornament, with the tenacity of cupping-glasses. In the winter time the air couldn't be got out of the Castle, and in the summer time it couldn't be got in. There was such a continual reverberation of wind in it, that it sounded like a great shell, which the inhabitants were obliged to hold to their ears night and day, whether they liked it or no. It was not, naturally, a fresh-smelling house; and in the window of the front parlour, which was never opened, Mrs Pipchin kept a collection of plants in pots, which imparted an earthy flavour of their own to the establishment. However choice examples of their kind, too, these plants were of a kind peculiarly adapted to the embowerment of Mrs Pipchin. There were half-a-dozen specimens of the cactus, writhing round bits of lath, like hairy serpents; another specimen shooting out broad claws, like a green lobster; several creeping vegetables, possessed of sticky and adhesive leaves; and one uncomfortable flower-pot hanging to the ceiling, which appeared to have boiled over, and tickling people underneath with its long green ends, reminded them of spiders - in which Mrs Pipchin's dwelling was uncommonly prolific, though perhaps it challenged competition still more proudly, in the season, in point of earwigs.
Mrs Pipchin's scale of charges being high, however, to all who could afford to pay, and Mrs Pipchin very seldom sweetening the equable acidity of her nature in favour of anybody, she was held to be an old 'lady of remarkable firmness, who was quite scientific in her knowledge of the childish character.' On this reputation, and on the broken heart of Mr Pipchin, she had contrived, taking one year with another, to eke out a tolerable sufficient living since her husband's demise. Within three days after Mrs Chick's first allusion to her, this excellent old lady had the satisfaction of anticipating a handsome addition to her current receipts, from the pocket of Mr Dombey; and of receiving Florence and her little brother Paul, as inmates of the Castle.
Mrs Chick and Miss Tox, who had brought them down on the previous night (which they all passed at an Hotel), had just driven away from the door, on their journey home again; and Mrs Pipchin, with her back to the fire, stood, reviewing the new-comers, like an old soldier. Mrs Pipchin's middle-aged niece, her good-natured and devoted slave, but possessing a gaunt and iron-bound aspect, and much afflicted with boils on her nose, was divesting Master Bitherstone of the clean collar he had worn on parade. Miss Pankey, the only other little boarder at present, had that moment been walked off to the Castle Dungeon (an empty apartment at the back, devoted to correctional purposes), for having sniffed thrice, in the presence of visitors.
'Well, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin to Paul, 'how do you think you shall like me?'
'I don't think I shall like you at all,' replied Paul. 'I want to go away. This isn't my house.'
'No. It's mine,' retorted Mrs Pipchin.
'It's a very nasty one,' said Paul.
'There's a worse place in it than this though,' said Mrs Pipchin, 'where we shut up our bad boys.'
'Has he ever been in it?' asked Paul: pointing out Master Bitherstone.
Mrs Pipchin nodded assent; and Paul had enough to do, for the rest of that day, in surveying Master Bitherstone from head to foot, and watching all the workings of his countenance, with the interest attaching to a boy of mysterious and terrible experiences.
At one o'clock there was a dinner, chiefly of the farinaceous and vegetable kind, when Miss Pankey (a mild little blue-eyed morsel of a child, who was shampoo'd every morning, and seemed in danger of being rubbed away, altogether) was led in from captivity by the ogress herself, and instructed that nobody who sniffed before visitors ever went to Heaven. When this great truth had been thoroughly impressed upon her, she was regaled with rice; and subsequently repeated the form of grace established in the Castle, in which there was a special clause, thanking Mrs Pipchin for a good dinner. Mrs Pipchin's niece, Berinthia, took cold pork. Mrs Pipchin, whose constitution required warm nourishment, made a special repast of mutton-chops, which were brought in hot and hot, between two plates, and smelt very nice.
As it rained after dinner, and they couldn't go out walking on the beach, and Mrs Pipchin's constitution required rest after chops, they went away with Berry (otherwise Berinthia) to the Dungeon; an empty room looking out upon a chalk wall and a water-butt, and made ghastly by a ragged fireplace without any stove in it. Enlivened by company, however, this was the best place after all; for Berry played with them there, and seemed to enjoy a game at romps as much as they did; until Mrs Pipchin knocking angrily at the wall, like the Cock Lane Ghost' revived, they left off, and Berry told them stories in a whisper until twilight.
For tea there was plenty of milk and water, and bread and butter, with a little black tea-pot for Mrs Pipchin and Berry, and buttered toast unlimited for Mrs Pipchin, which was brought in, hot and hot, like the chops. Though Mrs Pipchin got very greasy, outside, over this dish, it didn't seem to lubricate her internally, at all; for she was as fierce as ever, and the hard grey eye knew no softening.
After tea, Berry brought out a little work-box, with the Royal Pavilion on the lid, and fell to working busily; while Mrs Pipchin, having put on her spectacles and opened a great volume bound in green baize, began to nod. And whenever Mrs Pipchin caught herself falling forward into the fire, and woke up, she filliped Master Bitherstone on the nose for nodding too.
At last it was the children's bedtime, and after prayers they went to bed. As little Miss Pankey was afraid of sleeping alone in the dark, Mrs Pipchin always made a point of driving her upstairs herself, like a sheep; and it was cheerful to hear Miss Pankey moaning long afterwards, in the least eligible chamber, and Mrs Pipchin now and then going in to shake her. At about half-past nine o'clock the odour of a warm sweet-bread (Mrs Pipchin's constitution wouldn't go to sleep without sweet-bread) diversified the prevailing fragrance of the house, which Mrs Wickam said was 'a smell of building;' and slumber fell upon the Castle shortly after.
The breakfast next morning was like the tea over night, except that Mrs Pipchin took her roll instead of toast, and seemed a little more irate when it was over. Master Bitherstone read aloud to the rest a pedigree from Genesis judiciously selected by Mrs Pipchin), getting over the names with the ease and clearness of a person tumbling up the treadmill. That done, Miss Pankey was borne away to be shampoo'd; and Master Bitherstone to have something else done to him with salt water, from which he always returned very blue and dejected. Paul and Florence went out in the meantime on the beach with Wickam - who was constantly in tears - and at about noon Mrs Pipchin presided over some Early Readings. It being a part of Mrs Pipchin's system not to encourage a child's mind to develop and expand itself like a young flower, but to open it by force like an oyster, the moral of these lessons was usually of a violent and stunning character: the hero - a naughty boy - seldom, in the mildest catastrophe, being finished off anything less than a lion, or a bear.
Such was life at Mrs Pipchin's. On Saturday Mr Dombey came down; and Florence and Paul would go to his Hotel, and have tea They passed the whole of Sunday with him, and generally rode out before dinner; and on these occasions Mr Dombey seemed to grow, like Falstaff's assailants, and instead of being one man in buckram, to become a dozen. Sunday evening was the most melancholy evening in the week; for Mrs Pipchin always made a point of being particularly cross on Sunday nights. Miss Pankey was generally brought back from an aunt's at Rottingdean, in deep distress; and Master Bitherstone, whose relatives were all in India, and who was required to sit, between the services, in an erect position with his head against the parlour wall, neither moving hand nor foot, suffered so acutely in his young spirits that he once asked Florence, on a Sunday night, if she could give him any idea of the way back to Bengal.
But it was generally said that Mrs Pipchin was a woman of system with children; and no doubt she was. Certainly the wild ones went home tame enough, after sojourning for a few months beneath her hospitable roof. It was generally said, too, that it was highly creditable of Mrs Pipchin to have devoted herself to this way of life, and to have made such a sacrifice of her feelings, and such a resolute stand against her troubles, when Mr Pipchin broke his heart in the Peruvian mines.
At this exemplary old lady, Paul would sit staring in his little arm-chair by the fire, for any length of time. He never seemed to know what weariness was, when he was looking fixedly at Mrs Pipchin. He was not fond of her; he was not afraid of her; but in those old, old moods of his, she seemed to have a grotesque attraction for him. There he would sit, looking at her, and warming his hands, and looking at her, until he sometimes quite confounded Mrs Pipchin, Ogress as she was. Once she asked him, when they were alone, what he was thinking about.
'You,' said Paul, without the least reserve.
'And what are you thinking about me?' asked Mrs Pipchin.
'I'm thinking how old you must be,' said Paul.
'You mustn't say such things as that, young gentleman,' returned the dame. 'That'll never do.'
'Why not?' asked Paul.
'Because it's not polite,' said Mrs Pipchin, snappishly.
'Not polite?' said Paul.
'No.'
'It's not polite,' said Paul, innocently, 'to eat all the mutton chops and toast, Wickam says.
'Wickam,' retorted Mrs Pipchin, colouring, 'is a wicked, impudent, bold-faced hussy.'
'What's that?' inquired Paul.
'Never you mind, Sir,' retorted Mrs Pipchin. 'Remember the story of the little boy that was gored to death by a mad bull for asking questions.'
'If the bull was mad,' said Paul, 'how did he know that the boy had asked questions? Nobody can go and whisper secrets to a mad bull. I don't believe that story.
'You don't believe it, Sir?' repeated Mrs Pipchin, amazed.
'No,' said Paul.
'Not if it should happen to have been a tame bull, you little Infidel?' said Mrs Pipchin.
As Paul had not considered the subject in that light, and had founded his conclusions on the alleged lunacy of the bull, he allowed himself to be put down for the present. But he sat turning it over in his mind, with such an obvious intention of fixing Mrs Pipchin presently, that even that hardy old lady deemed it prudent to retreat until he should have forgotten the subject.
From that time, Mrs Pipchin appeared to have something of the same odd kind of attraction towards Paul, as Paul had towards her. She would make him move his chair to her side of the fire, instead of sitting opposite; and there he would remain in a nook between Mrs Pipchin and the fender, with all the light of his little face absorbed into the black bombazeen drapery, studying every line and wrinkle of her countenance, and peering at the hard grey eye, until Mrs Pipchin was sometimes fain to shut it, on pretence of dozing. Mrs Pipchin had an old black cat, who generally lay coiled upon the centre foot of the fender, purring egotistically, and winking at the fire until the contracted pupils of his eyes were like two notes of admiration. The good old lady might have been - not to record it disrespectfully - a witch, and Paul and the cat her two familiars, as they all sat by the fire together. It would have been quite in keeping with the appearance of the party if they had all sprung up the chimney in a high wind one night, and never been heard of any more.
This, however, never came to pass. The cat, and Paul, and Mrs Pipchin, were constantly to be found in their usual places after dark; and Paul, eschewing the companionship of Master Bitherstone, went on studying Mrs Pipchin, and the cat, and the fire, night after night, as if they were a book of necromancy, in three volumes.
Mrs Wickam put her own construction on Paul's eccentricities; and being confirmed in her low spirits by a perplexed view of chimneys from the room where she was accustomed to sit, and by the noise of the wind, and by the general dulness (gashliness was Mrs Wickam's strong expression) of her present life, deduced the most dismal reflections from the foregoing premises. It was a part of Mrs Pipchin's policy to prevent her own 'young hussy' - that was Mrs Pipchin's generic name for female servant - from communicating with Mrs Wickam: to which end she devoted much of her time to concealing herself behind doors, and springing out on that devoted maiden, whenever she made an approach towards Mrs Wickam's apartment. But Berry was free to hold what converse she could in that quarter, consistently with the discharge of the multifarious duties at which she toiled incessantly from morning to night; and to Berry Mrs Wickam unburdened her mind.
'What a pretty fellow he is when he's asleep!' said Berry, stopping to look at Paul in bed, one night when she took up Mrs Wickam's supper.
'Ah!' sighed Mrs Wickam. 'He need be.'
'Why, he's not ugly when he's awake,' observed Berry.
'No, Ma'am. Oh, no. No more was my Uncle's Betsey Jane,' said Mrs Wickam.
Berry looked as if she would like to trace the connexion of ideas between Paul Dombey and Mrs Wickam's Uncle's Betsey Jane
'My Uncle's wife,' Mrs Wickam went on to say, 'died just like his Mama. My Uncle's child took on just as Master Paul do.'
'Took on! You don't think he grieves for his Mama, sure?' argued Berry, sitting down on the side of the bed. 'He can't remember anything about her, you know, Mrs Wickam. It's not possible.'
'No, Ma'am,' said Mrs Wickam 'No more did my Uncle's child. But my Uncle's child said very strange things sometimes, and looked very strange, and went on very strange, and was very strange altogether. My Uncle's child made people's blood run cold, some times, she did!'
'How?' asked Berry.
'I wouldn't have sat up all night alone with Betsey Jane!' said Mrs Wickam, 'not if you'd have put Wickam into business next morning for himself. I couldn't have done it, Miss Berry.
Miss Berry naturally asked why not? But Mrs Wickam, agreeably to the usage of some ladies in her condition, pursued her own branch of the subject, without any compunction.
'Betsey Jane,' said Mrs Wickam, 'was as sweet a child as I could wish to see. I couldn't wish to see a sweeter. Everything that a child could have in the way of illnesses, Betsey Jane had come through. The cramps was as common to her,' said Mrs Wickam, 'as biles is to yourself, Miss Berry.' Miss Berry involuntarily wrinkled her nose.
'But Betsey Jane,' said Mrs Wickam, lowering her voice, and looking round the room, and towards Paul in bed, 'had been minded, in her cradle, by her departed mother. I couldn't say how, nor I couldn't say when, nor I couldn't say whether the dear child knew it or not, but Betsey Jane had been watched by her mother, Miss Berry!' and Mrs Wickam, with a very white face, and with watery eyes, and with a tremulous voice, again looked fearfully round the room, and towards Paul in bed.
'Nonsense!' cried Miss Berry - somewhat resentful of the idea.
'You may say nonsense! I ain't offended, Miss. I hope you may be able to think in your own conscience that it is nonsense; you'll find your spirits all the better for it in this - you'll excuse my being so free - in this burying-ground of a place; which is wearing of me down. Master Paul's a little restless in his sleep. Pat his back, if you please.'
'Of course you think,' said Berry, gently doing what she was asked, 'that he has been nursed by his mother, too?'
'Betsey Jane,' returned Mrs Wickam in her most solemn tones, 'was put upon as that child has been put upon, and changed as that child has changed. I have seen her sit, often and often, think, think, thinking, like him. I have seen her look, often and often, old, old, old, like him. I have heard her, many a time, talk just like him. I consider that child and Betsey Jane on the same footing entirely, Miss Berry.'
'Is your Uncle's child alive?' asked Berry.
'Yes, Miss, she is alive,' returned Mrs Wickam with an air of triumph, for it was evident. Miss Berry expected the reverse; 'and is married to a silver-chaser. Oh yes, Miss, SHE is alive,' said Mrs Wickam, laying strong stress on her nominative case.
It being clear that somebody was dead, Mrs Pipchin's niece inquired who it was.
'I wouldn't wish to make you uneasy,' returned Mrs Wickam, pursuing her supper. Don't ask me.'
This was the surest way of being asked again. Miss Berry repeated her question, therefore; and after some resistance, and reluctance, Mrs Wickam laid down her knife, and again glancing round the room and at Paul in bed, replied:
'She took fancies to people; whimsical fancies, some of them; others, affections that one might expect to see - only stronger than common. They all died.'
This was so very unexpected and awful to Mrs Pipchin's niece, that she sat upright on the hard edge of the bedstead, breathing short, and surveying her informant with looks of undisguised alarm.
Mrs Wickam shook her left fore-finger stealthily towards the bed where Florence lay; then turned it upside down, and made several emphatic points at the floor; immediately below which was the parlour in which Mrs Pipchin habitually consumed the toast.
'Remember my words, Miss Berry,' said Mrs Wickam, 'and be thankful that Master Paul is not too fond of you. I am, that he's not too fond of me, I assure you; though there isn't much to live for - you'll excuse my being so free - in this jail of a house!'
Miss Berry's emotion might have led to her patting Paul too hard on the back, or might have produced a cessation of that soothing monotony, but he turned in his bed just now, and, presently awaking, sat up in it with his hair hot and wet from the effects of some childish dream, and asked for Florence.
She was out of her own bed at the first sound of his voice; and bending over his pillow immediately, sang him to sleep again. Mrs Wickam shaking her head, and letting fall several tears, pointed out the little group to Berry, and turned her eyes up to the ceiling.
'He's asleep now, my dear,' said Mrs Wickam after a pause, 'you'd better go to bed again. Don't you feel cold?'
'No, nurse,' said Florence, laughing. 'Not at all.'
'Ah!' sighed Mrs Wickam, and she shook her head again, expressing to the watchful Berry, 'we shall be cold enough, some of us, by and by!'
Berry took the frugal supper-tray, with which Mrs Wickam had by this time done, and bade her good-night.
'Good-night, Miss!' returned Wickam softly. 'Good-night! Your aunt is an old lady, Miss Berry, and it's what you must have looked for, often.'
This consolatory farewell, Mrs Wickam accompanied with a look of heartfelt anguish; and being left alone with the two children again, and becoming conscious that the wind was blowing mournfully, she indulged in melancholy - that cheapest and most accessible of luxuries - until she was overpowered by slumber.
Although the niece of Mrs Pipchin did not expect to find that exemplary dragon prostrate on the hearth-rug when she went downstairs, she was relieved to find her unusually fractious and severe, and with every present appearance of intending to live a long time to be a comfort to all who knew her. Nor had she any symptoms of declining, in the course of the ensuing week, when the constitutional viands still continued to disappear in regular succession, notwithstanding that Paul studied her as attentively as ever, and occupied his usual seat between the black skirts and the fender, with unwavering constancy.
But as Paul himself was no stronger at the expiration of that time than he had been on his first arrival, though he looked much healthier in the face, a little carriage was got for him, in which he could lie at his ease, with an alphabet and other elementary works of reference, and be wheeled down to the sea-side. Consistent in his odd tastes, the child set aside a ruddy-faced lad who was proposed as the drawer of this carriage, and selected, instead, his grandfather - a weazen, old, crab-faced man, in a suit of battered oilskin, who had got tough and stringy from long pickling in salt water, and who smelt like a weedy sea-beach when the tide is out.
With this notable attendant to pull him along, and Florence always walking by his side, and the despondent Wickam bringing up the rear, he went down to the margin of the ocean every day; and there he would sit or lie in his carriage for hours together: never so distressed as by the company of children - Florence alone excepted, always.
'Go away, if you please,' he would say to any child who came to bear him company. Thank you, but I don't want you.'
Some small voice, near his ear, would ask him how he was, perhaps.
'I am very well, I thank you,' he would answer. 'But you had better go and play, if you please.'
Then he would turn his head, and watch the child away, and say to Florence, 'We don't want any others, do we? Kiss me, Floy.'
He had even a dislike, at such times, to the company of Wickam, and was well pleased when she strolled away, as she generally did, to pick up shells and acquaintances. His favourite spot was quite a lonely one, far away from most loungers; and with Florence sitting by his side at work, or reading to him, or talking to him, and the wind blowing on his face, and the water coming up among the wheels of his bed, he wanted nothing more.
'Floy,' he said one day, 'where's India, where that boy's friends live?'
'Oh, it's a long, long distance off,' said Florence, raising her eyes from her work.
'Weeks off?' asked Paul.
'Yes dear. Many weeks' journey, night and day.'
'If you were in India, Floy,' said Paul, after being silent for a minute, 'I should - what is it that Mama did? I forget.'
'Loved me!' answered Florence.
'No, no. Don't I love you now, Floy? What is it? - Died. in you were in India, I should die, Floy.'
She hurriedly put her work aside, and laid her head down on his pillow, caressing him. And so would she, she said, if he were there. He would be better soon.
'Oh! I am a great deal better now!' he answered. 'I don't mean that. I mean that I should die of being so sorry and so lonely, Floy!'
Another time, in the same place, he fell asleep, and slept quietly for a long time. Awaking suddenly, he listened, started up, and sat listening.
Florence asked him what he thought he heard.
'I want to know what it says,' he answered, looking steadily in her face. 'The sea' Floy, what is it that it keeps on saying?'
She told him that it was only the noise of the rolling waves.
'Yes, yes,' he said. 'But I know that they are always saying something. Always the same thing. What place is over there?' He rose up, looking eagerly at the horizon.
She told him that there was another country opposite, but he said he didn't mean that: he meant further away - farther away!
Very often afterwards, in the midst of their talk, he would break off, to try to understand what it was that the waves were always saying; and would rise up in his couch to look towards that invisible region, far away.
  在时间(在一定的意义上说,它是另一个少校)的机警与注意的眼光下,保罗的睡眠逐渐地改变着。愈来愈多的亮光妨碍了它们;愈来愈清楚的梦扰乱了它们;愈益增多的事物与印象群集在他的周围,使他不得安息;他就这样从婴儿时代进入了幼年时代,成为一位会说话,会走路,会疑虑的董贝。
  在理查兹犯了罪过、被驱逐出去之后,育儿室可以说已经移交给一个特设委员会来管理了,正像有的公共机构如果找不到一个阿特拉斯①能顶得起它的重担的话,有时就会发生这种情形一样。委员会的委员自然是奇克夫人与托克斯小姐。她们怀着十分惊人的热忱致力于所担负的职责,因此白格斯托克少校每天都能看到一些新的迹象提醒他,他已被抛弃了;奇克先生则由于失去了家庭的监督,就委身于消遣玩乐的世界;他在俱乐部和咖啡馆用餐;一天之内在三次不同的场合与他相遇,都能从他身上闻到烟味;他独自一人出去看戏;总而言之,正如奇克夫人对他说的那样,他已摆脱一切社会义务与道义责任的束缚了。
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  ①阿特拉斯(Atlas):希腊神话中双肩能掮天的巨神。
  虽然小保罗从一出生起就大有希望,可是所有这些警惕与护理却没有能使他成长为一个体格健壮的孩子。也许生来体质就娇弱,在辞退了奶妈之后他就消瘦、虚弱下去,而且似乎长久在等待机会,从她们的手中溜走,前去寻找他失去的母亲。在他通向成年的障碍赛马中,这个危险的地段虽然已经跳过了,但他依旧觉得道路崎岖不平,乘骑十分艰辛,路程中的所有障碍都使他苦恼不堪。对他来说,每长一颗牙齿都是一道极危险的篱笆,出麻疹中的每一个疹疱都是一道石墙。每一阵百日咳都使他摔倒在地;成群结队、接踵而来的各种小病碾压着他,使他再也不能起来。某种猛禽而不是画眉鸟钻进了他的喉咙①。如果鸡雏与那个以它们的名称来命名的儿童疾病有关的话,②那么连它们也变得很凶猛,就像豹猫一样使他惶惶不安。
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  ①英文thrush这个词有两个意义,一是画眉鸟,一是鹅口疮。这里指保罗患了鹅口疮,喉咙中像有猛禽在啄咬一样难受。
  ②指鸡痘(chicken-pox),即水痘。
  给保罗施洗礼时的寒冷也许重重地打击了他机体中某处敏感的部位,在他父亲的阴森的冷气的笼罩下,它不能痊愈,可是从那天开始,他就成了一个不幸的孩子了。威肯姆大嫂时常说,她从没有见过哪一位小乖乖这样受罪的。
  威肯姆大嫂是一位侍者的妻子——那似乎就等于是任何其他男子的寡妇——;因为显然不可能有任何人会去追求她或她会去追求任何人,所以她到董贝先生家里求职的申请受到了有利的考虑。在保罗突然断奶以后的一两天之内,她就被雇用当他的保姆。威肯姆大嫂是一位温顺的女人,皮肤白嫩,眉毛总是向上扬起,头总是向下低垂;她总是随时准备怜悯自己或受人怜悯或怜悯其他任何人。她有一份惊人的天赋,就是从极为绝望与可怜的角度来观察一切事物,又援引一些可怕的先例来与它们比较,并从这个才能的发挥中得到极大的安慰。
  不需要指出,庄严的董贝先生丝毫也不知道她有这个优良的品质。如果他知道了,那才真是令人惊异的,因为公馆里从来没有一个人——连奇克夫人或托克斯小姐也包括在内——敢借任何口实向他低声说出小保罗有使人感到不安的一丁点理由。他认为,孩子总难免要通过某些小病小痛的例行过程,通过得愈快就愈好。如果他能出钱使他免受这些病痛,或者可以买一个替身,就像不幸被抽中服兵役时的情形一样,那么他就会毫不吝啬,十分乐意地这样去做。但由于这是行不通的,所以他只是不时傲慢地心中纳闷,大自然这样安排是什么意思;并聊以自慰地想,道路上的一个里程碑又走过了,伟大的旅程终点又接近好多了。因为在他心中压倒一切的情绪就是急不可耐,这种情绪不断地变得愈来愈强烈,并随着保罗年龄的增长愈来愈加深。他曾经梦想他们父子联合起来就会创建宏伟的业绩;他急不可耐地等待着胜利实现这一梦想的时候来到。
  有些哲学家告诉我们,自私植根于我们最热烈的爱与最深厚的感情之中。董贝先生年幼的儿子从一开始就作为他自己的伟大的一部分,或作为董贝父子公司的伟大的一部分(二者实际上是一回事),对他显然十分重要,所以他所怀的父爱可以像许多享有盛誉的华丽建筑一样,很容易就能追溯到它的埋得很深的基础。但他用他所有的爱去爱他的儿子。如果在他的冰冷的心中有一个温暖的地方,那么这个地方就被他的儿子占据着;如果在它的十分坚硬的表面上可以铭刻什么形象的话,那么铭刻出来的就是他儿子的形象,虽然这形象与其说是一个婴儿或是一个小孩,还不如说是一位成年人——董贝父子公司中的“子”。因此,他急不可耐地进入未来,匆匆地跳过了他历史中的中间阶段。因此,他虽然很爱他,但却很少或根本不替他担忧;他觉得仿佛这孩子具有驱恶避邪的魔力,·一·定能成长为他在思想上经常与他进行相互交谈的那一位成年人,仿佛这位成年人是个已经存在的实体似的,他每天都为他制订计划,作出打算。
  保罗就这样长到将近五岁。虽然他小小的脸孔有些缺乏血色,神色有些愁闷,这使得威肯姆大嫂意味深长地摇过好多次头,长长地叹过好多次气;但他是个漂亮的小家伙。从他的性格来看,他在日后的生活中很有希望变得专横傲慢。他也很有希望懂得他自己的重要性,懂得所有其他事物与人们都能随从他的欲望,并理所当然地屈服于它。他是孩子气的,有时还很爱玩爱闹,并不是一种忧闷不乐的性情;但在另一些时候,他却有怪僻地、老气横秋地静坐在小扶手椅子中沉思默想的习惯,在这种时候他看上去(或说起话来)就像是神话故事中那些可怕的小妖精,他们已有一百五十岁或二百岁,但却荒诞古怪地装扮成他们所已替换了的小孩子。他在楼上的育儿室中常会露出这种过早成熟的神态;有时甚至是在跟弗洛伦斯玩耍的时候或者把托克斯小姐当作一匹马驱赶着的时候,也会一边喊着“我累了”,一边突然陷入这种状态。当他的小椅子被搬到楼下他父亲的房间里,他和他晚饭后在壁炉旁边挨近坐着的时候,他准会陷入这种状态之中;在任何其他时候都比不上在这时候这样准定使他陷入这种状态的。这时候,他们是炉火所曾照耀过的最奇怪的一对人。董贝先生身子毕挺,神情十分庄严地凝视着火焰;跟他一模一样的那位小人儿,脸上露出一副老而又老的神态,像圣人一样全神贯注、一动不动地注视着那红色的景象。董贝先生心中怀着复杂的世俗的谋略与计划;跟他一模一样的小人儿心中怀着天知道什么荒诞离奇的幻想、没有定形的思索和飘忽不定的考虑。董贝先生由于古板与傲慢而木然不动;跟他一模一样的小人儿则由于遗传和不自觉的模仿而木然不动。这两个人是多么相像,然而又形成了多么奇异的对照。
  有一次他们两人一言不发地沉默了很久,董贝先生只是由于偶尔往他的眼睛看上一眼,看到他眼中的亮光像珠子一样闪耀,因此知道他没有睡着,这时候,小保罗这样打破了沉默:
  “爸爸,钱是什么?”
  这个突然提出的问题跟董贝先生正在思考的问题十分直接地联结着,因此董贝先生感到困窘。
  “你问钱是什么吗,保罗?”他回答道。“钱?”
  “是的,”孩子把手搁在小椅子的扶手上,抬起他那老气横秋的脸,望着董贝先生的脸,说道,“钱是什么?”
  董贝先生陷入了困境。他本来真想把流通手段、通货、通货贬值、钞票、金条银条、汇率、市场上贵金属的价值等等一类术语向他作出一些解释,可是他向下看看那小椅子,看到下面还有那么远远的一段距离,就回答道,“金,银,铜,基尼,先令,半便士。①,你知道它们是什么吗?”
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  ①当时的英国货币单位。1基尼等于21先令;1镑等于20先令;1先令等于12便士。
  “啊,是的,我知道它们是什么,”保罗说道,“我问的不是这意思,爸爸。我是想问,钱究竟是什么?”
  哎呀,天老爷!当他抬起脸望着他父亲的脸的时候,那是一张多么老气的脸啊!
  “钱究竟是什么!”董贝先生大为惊异地把椅子挪后一点,以便仔细看看提出这样一个问题的自以为是的小东西。
  “爸爸,我的意思是它能做什么?”保罗合抱着两只胳膊(它们不够长,不容易合抱),看着火,又抬起眼睛来看着他,又看着火,然后又抬起眼睛来看着他。
  董贝先生把他的椅子拉回到原先的地方,摸摸他的头。
  “你会逐渐知道的,我的孩子,”他说道。“钱能做任何事情,保罗。”他一边说,一边拉起那只小手,轻轻地敲打着他自己的手。
  但是保罗尽快地抽回了自己的手,并轻轻地擦着椅子的扶手,仿佛他的智慧是在手心里,他正在把它磨擦得更机敏一些——同时又看着火,仿佛火是他的顾问与提词员似的——;他在短短的沉默之后,重复着问道:
  “任何事情吗,爸爸?”
  “是的,任何事情——几乎,”董贝先生说道。
  “任何事情就是每一件事情,是不是,爸爸?”他的儿子问道;他没有注意到或者可能不理解那个限制词。
  “是的,任何事情包括每一件事情,”董贝先生回答道。
  “为什么钱不能把我的妈妈救活呢?”孩子反问道。“它是残酷的,是不是?”
  “残酷!”董贝先生整整领饰,似乎憎恨这个想法。“不,好东西不会是残酷的。”
  “如果它是个好东西,能做任何事情,”小家伙重新看着火,沉思地说道,“那么我奇怪,它为什么不能把我的妈妈救活呢。”
  这次他没有向他的父亲问这个问题。也许他已以孩子机敏的观察力看出,它已经使他的父亲感到不安了。可是他大声地把这个思想重复地说出来,仿佛这对他来说是一个存在已久的思想,曾使他十分苦恼;然后他用手支托着下巴,坐在那里,慎重地思考着,想从火中找到一个解释。
  董贝先生从他的惊奇(且不说是恐慌)中恢复过来以后(因为这孩子虽然一个晚上又一个晚上在他身旁以同样的姿态坐着,但这却是他第一次向他提出他母亲的问题),向他详细地说明,钱虽然是个神通很广大的精灵,决不能以任何理由轻视它,但它却不能使到了时候该死的人们活下来;而且很不幸,虽然我们从不曾像现在这样富裕过,但是即使是在城市里,我们所有的人也都是一定要死的。不过,尽管如此,钱却可以使我们得到荣誉,使人们畏惧、尊敬、奉承和羡慕我们,并使我们在所有人们的眼中看来权势显赫,荣耀光彩。它常常能把死亡推迟得很久。举个例子来说,它能使他妈妈获得皮尔金斯先生(保罗本人也常常从他那里受益)和杰出的帕克·佩普斯医生(他从来不知道他)的治疗。它能做到一切它能做到的事情。董贝先生把所有这一切以及为了达到同一目的所要说的其他事情都灌输到他儿子的心中;他的儿子专心致志地听着,似乎对他所说的话他大部分都听懂了。
  “它也不能使我强壮和十分健康,是不是,爸爸?”保罗经过短时间的沉默之后,搓搓小手,问道。
  “不过你是强壮和十分健康的,”董贝先生回答道。“难道不是吗?”
  啊,那张重新抬起来、露出半是忧郁、半是狡猾的表情的脸是多么老气横秋啊!
  “你就跟你同样的小人儿通常的情形一样,强壮,健康,是不是,嗯?”董贝先生说道。
  “弗洛伦斯比我大,但是我知道,我不像弗洛伦斯那么强壮、健康,”孩子回答道;“不过我相信,弗洛伦斯像我这样小的时候,她能一次比我玩得长久得多,而不会感到累。我有时却感到很累,”小保罗烘烘手,说道,一边往炉栅的栏栅中间望进去,仿佛那里正在表演什么鬼怪木偶戏似的,“而且我的骨头痛得很(威肯姆说,这是我的骨头),我不知道该怎么办。”
  “是的!可是那是在夜里,”董贝先生把他自己的椅子拉得跟他儿子的椅子挨近一些,同时把他的手轻轻地放在他的背上,说道,“小人儿夜里应该是累的,因为这样他们才能睡得香。”
  “哦,这不是在夜里,爸爸,”孩子回答道,“这是在白天。我躺在弗洛伦斯的膝盖上,她唱歌给我听。夜里我梦见这些希奇——古怪的事情!”
  他继续讲下去,一边又烘烘手,像一个老头子或一个年轻的妖魔一样想着这些事情。
  董贝先生十分惊异,十分不安,完全不知道该怎么把谈话进行下去;他就只好借着火光看着他的儿子,一只手仍搁在他的背上不动,仿佛有什么魔术的吸引力把它阻留在那里似的。有一次他伸出另一只手,把那沉思的脸转向他一会儿,可是他手一放松,它又转回去对着壁炉,眼睛一动不动地看着闪烁的火焰,直到保姆前来召唤他去睡觉为止。
  “我要弗洛伦斯到我这里来,”保罗说道。
  “您不想跟您的可怜的威肯姆保姆一道走吗,保罗少爷?”
  那位侍候他的女人十分凄楚地问道。
  “不,我不想,”保罗像是这个房屋的主人似的,在他的椅子中重新坐好,回答道。
  威肯姆大嫂一边祈求上帝保佑他天真无邪,一边出去了;一会儿,弗洛伦斯代替她来了。孩子立刻欣喜、活泼地跳起来,向他父亲抬起一张快活得多、年轻得多、孩子气得多的脸孔,祝他晚安;董贝先生看到这个转变大大地安下心来,同时又感到十分惊奇。
  他们一起离开房间以后,他觉得他听到了一个温柔的声音在唱歌;他记起保罗曾对他说过他姐姐给他唱歌的事,就怀着好奇心开了门,听着并目送着他们。她抱着他,沿着那宽阔的、没有人的大楼梯,辛苦地走上去;他的头靠在她的肩膀上,一只胳膊随便地挽着她的脖子。他们就这样吃力地走上去;她一路唱着歌,保罗有时有气无力地低声伴唱着。董贝先生目送着他们,直到他们到达楼梯顶上——他们在中间也曾停下来休息过——,离开了他的视野;可是这时候他仍站在那里向上凝视着,直到后来淡弱的月光凄凉地、忽隐忽视地穿过幽暗的天窗,照着他回到他自己的房间。
  第二天吃晚饭的时候,奇克夫人与托克斯小姐被召集一起来进行商议。桌布一撤走,董贝先生在会议开始时就要求她们毫不掩饰、毫无保留地告诉他,保罗是不是出了什么毛病,皮尔金斯先生是怎样说他的。
  “因为这孩子不像我所希望的那么健壮,”董贝先生说道。
  “你一向明察秋毫,我亲爱的保罗,”奇克夫人回答道,“你一下就说对了。我们的小乖乖完全不像我们所希望的那么健壮。事实是:他脑子里想的事情太多了。就他那小小的身体来说,他的心灵太大了。说实在的,这乖孩子说话的方式,”奇克夫人摇摇头,说道,“没有谁能相信。就在昨天,卢克丽霞,他关于殡葬所说的那些话!——”
  “我担心,”董贝先生急躁地打断了她的话,“楼上那些人当中有什么人向这孩子谈到了一些不合适的话题。昨天夜里他跟我说起他的——说起他的骨头,”董贝先生在这个词上愤怒地加重了语气,“世界上谁跟——跟我的儿子的骨头有什么关系?我想,他不是一个活着的骷髅①。”
  --------
  ①活着的骷髅:狄更斯写作《董贝父子》时,伦敦杂耍场中演出的人物中有一位绰号为“活着的骷髅”(livingskeleton)的极坏的人。
  “完全不是,”奇克夫人用难以形容的表情说道。
  “我希望是这样,”她的哥哥回答道。“又说什么殡葬的事情!谁向孩子说起殡葬的事情的?我相信,我们不是殡仪事业的经营人,不是雇用的送丧人,也不是掘墓人。”
  “完全不是,”奇克夫人插嘴道,她的表情与刚才同样意味深长。
  “那么是谁把这些东西装进他的脑子里的呢?”董贝先生说道。“我昨天夜里确实十分惊奇,十分愤慨。谁把这些东西装进他的脑子里的呢,路易莎?”
  “我亲爱的保罗,”奇克夫人沉默了片刻,说道,“问这个问题没有用。坦率地跟你说吧,我认为威肯姆大嫂并不是一位性格快快活活的人,人们不可能把她称为——”
  “莫墨斯的女儿①,”托克斯小姐轻声提示道。
  --------
  ①莫墨斯的女儿(daughterofMomus):莫墨斯亦译摩摩斯,是希腊神话中夜神的儿子,嘲弄之神。据说,他曾责怪赫费斯托斯创造人时没有在胸口留下小洞以便能看出人的内心思想活动;又传说,他因为未能在阿佛罗狄忒身上找到任何可以嘲笑的不是之处而气得炸裂开来。莫墨斯的女儿或儿子:指爱嘲弄的人,滑稽的人,也就是性格快活的人。
  “正是这样,”奇克夫人说道:“不过她是极为殷勤、极为有用的,而且一点也不自以为是;确实,我从没有见过比她更柔顺的女人了。如果这亲爱的孩子,”奇克夫人继续说道,她的语气是把事前已取得一致意见的话总结一下的语气,而不是把这些话第一次说出来的语气,“由于受到上次打击,身体稍稍虚弱下来,不像我们所希望的那么精神饱满、健康壮实的话,如果他的体质暂时有些虚弱,而且有时似乎暂时不能使用他的——”
  在董贝先生刚才对骨头这个词表示反感之后,奇克夫人怕说出四肢这个词,因此等待着托克斯小姐给她提示;托克斯小姐忠于职守,没有把握地说了个:“身体的一些部分。”
  “身体的一些部分!”董贝先生重复着说道。
  “我想那位医生今天早上提到了腿,是不是,我亲爱的路易莎?”托克斯小姐说道。
  “唔,他当然提到了,我亲爱的,”奇克夫人略略有些责备地回答道。“您怎么还要问我呢?您听他说的呀。我说,如果我们亲爱的保罗暂时不能使用他的腿的话,那么对于像他这么大小的孩子来说,这是个普通的疾病,任何照料或预防都是没法阻止的。保罗,你愈早理解这一点,承认这一点就愈好。”
  “当然,你应当知道,路易莎,”董贝先生说道,“你出于本性,对于我的公司的未来的头头怀着忠诚与敬重,这一点我毫不怀疑。我想,皮尔金斯先生今天早上来看过保罗了吧?”
  “是的,他来看过了,”他的妹妹回答道,“托克斯小姐与我本人都在场。托克斯小姐与我总是在场的,我们认为这一点很有必要。最近皮尔金斯先生已经看了他好几天;我认为他是个很聪明的人。他说,这是一件不值一提的小事;如果这能带来什么安慰的话,那么我可以证实他说过;但是他今天建议让他去呼吸呼吸海边的空气。保罗,这是很明智的,我对这确信无疑。”
  “海边的空气,”董贝先生看着他的妹妹,重复说道。
  “没有什么好担心挂虑的,”奇克夫人说道。“我的乔治与弗雷德里克两人在跟他差不多大小的时候,大夫也曾建议他们去呼吸海边的空气;我本人也曾好多次接受过同样的医嘱。我很同意你的意见,保罗,也许在楼上当着他的面曾经漫不在意地谈到了一些他的小脑袋瓜最好别去琢磨的一些事情。可是我确实觉得,对待像他这么灵敏的孩子,也没有什么法子好想。如果他是一个普通的孩子的话,那么这倒也没有什么了不起的。我必须说,我与托克斯小姐认为,离开这个家短短一段时间,布赖顿①的空气以及到比方说,像皮普钦太太这样有见识的人那里去接受一下身心上的训练——”
  --------
  ①布赖顿(Brighton):英格兰萨塞克斯(Sussex)郡的一个区和自治市,在伦敦南82公里处,为英吉利海峡的海滨胜地。
  “皮普钦太太是谁,路易莎?”董贝先生问道,他对这样随随便便地介绍一位他以前从没有听说过的人感到吃惊。
  “我亲爱的保罗,”他的妹妹回答道,“皮普钦太太是一位上了年纪的女士——托克斯小姐知道她的全部历史——,有一个时期曾把全部心血都从事于对幼儿的研究与护理,取得了很大的成功;她还有一些门第高贵的亲戚。她的丈夫是伤心而死的——您说她的丈夫是怎样伤心而死的,我亲爱的?我已记不清那样详情细节了。”
  “当时他在秘鲁用泵把水从矿井里抽出来,”托克斯小姐回答道。
  “当然,他自己倒不是一位抽水泵的工人,”奇克夫人向她的哥哥看了一眼,说道;这个解释似乎确实是必要的,因为从托克斯小姐所说的话听起来,仿佛他是死在水泵的摇柄旁边似的;“而是在那个企业中投资,它后来破产了。我相信皮普钦太太对孩子的管理是相当惊人的。我曾在一些要好的朋友中间听到大家赞扬她,那还是当我是——我的天——多么高!”奇克夫人的眼光正转到书橱上、离地大约有十英尺的皮特先生的半身像上。
  “我亲爱的先生,”托克斯小姐天真地红了红脸,说道,“对于这位明确提到了的皮普钦太太,也许我得说一下,令妹对她的赞词是她当之无愧的。许多当今已成为社会重要人物的女士们与先生们都曾受惠于她的教养。现在跟您讲话的鄙人也曾经一度接受过她的管教。我想,名门贵族的青少年对她的所都并不陌生。”
  “您是说,这位可敬的女士开办着一个什么所吗,托克斯小姐?”董贝先生谦和地问道。
  “唔,”那位小姐回答道,“我确实不知道我这样称呼它是否合适。那决不是一个预备学校;”托克斯小姐特别温柔亲切地说道,“如果我把它称为最上等的幼儿供膳寄宿所,那么也许我能把我的意思表达出来吧?”
  “这个所对幼儿的挑选是特别严格的,人数是极为有限的,”奇克夫人向她的哥哥看了一眼,提示道。
  “啊!不合条件的孩子它是不收的!”托克斯小姐说道。
  这些话中有一些重要的东西。皮普钦太太的丈夫在秘鲁的矿井伤心而死,这是件好事。听到这一点令人高兴。此外,大夫既然已经建议保罗迁地疗养,那么怎么还能让他在家里再待一个钟头呢?想到这里,董贝先生几乎达到惊慌失措的地步。孩子在到达目的地之前必须走完一段道路,充其量,不过走得慢一点罢了,但是让他留在家里就等于阻拦或耽误他上路。他们提出的有关皮普钦太太的建议很受他的重视,因为他知道,在她们看护孩子的时候,要是有人从中进行任何干预,她们都是会妒嫉的;他过去片刻也不曾想到,她们会渴望把她们的责任分出一部分来(董贝先生对她们的责任是有确定的看法的,正像他刚才所表明的那样)。在秘鲁矿井伤心而死,董贝先生沉思着,唔,这是很体面的逝世。
  “假定明天前去打听好之后我们决定把小保罗送到布赖顿这位女士那里去,那么谁陪他去呢?”董贝先生经过一些考虑之后问道。
  “我认为你现在把这孩子不论送到哪里去都离不了弗洛伦斯,我亲爱的保罗,”他的妹妹迟疑地回答道。“他跟她打得火热,简直到了痴迷的地步。你知道,他年纪很小,他有他自己的喜爱。”
  董贝先生把头转开,慢慢地走向书橱,打开它,取出一本书来阅读。
  “还有什么人,路易莎?”他没有抬起头,一边把书页翻过去,一边问道。
  “当然,还有威肯姆。我想威肯姆一个人就够了,”他的妹妹回答道。“把保罗交到像皮普钦太太这样的人手里,你就用不着再派什么人去监督她了。当然你自己至少每个星期去一次。”
  “当然,”董贝先生说道,然后在那里坐了一个钟头,眼看着那一页书,但却一个字也没有读进去。
  这位名扬四方的皮普钦太太是一位容貌非常丑陋、心地非常不好的老太婆,曲背弯腰,脸上斑斑点点,像一块质地粗劣的大理石;她有一只魔钩鼻和一只冷酷的灰色眼睛,看上去仿佛可能曾在铁砧上锤打过,而却没有遭受任何损伤。自从皮普钦先生在秘鲁矿井死去以来,至少四十年已经过去了,可是他的遗孀仍然穿着一身黑色的邦巴辛毛葛①的衣服,它颜色深暗,死气沉沉,毫无光泽,天黑以后甚至连煤气灯也不能把它照亮,而她一露面,则不论多少支蜡烛都要被她衬托得黯然无光。人们谈到她的时候,通常都称她为孩子的“杰出的管理人”;而她的管理的秘诀则在于:把孩子不喜欢的一切给他们,把他们喜欢的一切不给他们;人们发现这种方法能使孩子们的性格变得温柔起来。她是一位十分凶狠的老太太,因此人们不由得相信,秘鲁机器在使用时出了什么差错,不是矿井被抽干了,而是她心中所怀有的一切喜悦之水和所有人类仁慈的乳汁②都被抽干了。
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  ①邦巴辛毛葛(bombasine):是一种丝经毛纬、细斜纹的纺织品。
  ②见莎士比亚悲剧《麦克佩斯》第一幕第五场:
  麦克佩斯夫人:“可是我却为你的天性忧虑,因为它充满了太多的人类仁慈的乳汁。”
  这位恶魔和儿童镇压者的城堡坐落在布赖顿的一条陡峭的小街上,那里的土壤比通常更富于白垩,更坚硬,更贫瘠;那里的房屋比通常更不坚固、更不厚实;房屋门前的小花园有一个莫名其妙的特点,就是:不论播种什么,长出的都是金盏花;那里经常可以看到蜗牛以吸杯那种毫不放松的劲头吸附在临街的大门上及其他人们不指望它们去装饰的公共场所。冬天空气不能从城堡中流出,夏天则空气不能流进去。风在里面经久不断地回荡着,城堡就像一只大贝壳似地发出声音,住在里面的人们不论是否乐意,都不得不日日夜夜捂着耳朵。房屋里的气味自然是不新鲜的;前面客厅的窗子永远也不打开;皮普钦太太在窗口摆了几盆植物,它们散发出的泥土气味充满了这座房屋。这些植物不论是从它们品种中多么精选出来的样品,它们都是属于特别适合于皮普钦太太住所的那种品种。这里有五六种仙人掌,像长了毛发的蛇似地围绕着一些板条蜿蜒移行,另外一个品种像绿色的大螯虾一样,伸出了宽阔的钳子;有几种爬行植物长着粘附性的叶子;有一个令人感到不快的花盆悬挂在天花板下面,盆里的植物看上去像是煮沸了的水似地从盆里漫溢出来,它长长的绿色的嫩枝撩拨着下面的行人,使他们联想起了蜘蛛;——皮普钦太太的住所中蜘蛛异常之多,然而在一年当中的某一个季节内,这个住所却可以更得意洋洋地提议以蠼螋的数目来跟别的住所竞赛。
  可是皮普钦太太对于一切能支付得起的人收费都是昂贵的;皮普钦太太也很少为了照顾什么人而把她始终坚硬的心肠松软一下,所以人们都认为她是一位意志非常坚决、对孩子的性格掌握了十分科学的知识的老太太。她依仗着她的这种声誉,也依仗着皮普钦先生的破碎的心,在丈夫与世长辞之后,想方设法,年复一年,辛辛苦苦地维持了一个相当不错的生活。在奇克夫人第一次提到她之后的三天之内,这位卓越的老太太就称心满意地期待着在她现有的收入之外,再从董贝先生的钱袋中得到一笔可观的补充,同时期待着接受弗洛伦斯和她的小弟弟保罗成为这座城堡的居民。
  奇克夫人与托克斯小姐是在昨天夜间把他们姐弟两人领到布赖顿来的(他们在旅馆里度过了这一夜)。当她们乘坐着马车刚离开大门,又踏上归途的时候,皮普钦太太背对着壁炉,像一位老兵一样站在那里打量着这两位新来的人。皮普钦太太有一位中年的侄女,是她忠心耿耿的奴仆;她性情温厚,但却有着瘦削的、严厉的外貌,鼻子上长着一些疖子,使她十分苦恼;这时她正从比瑟斯通少爷身上脱下他刚才受检阅时所穿的一件干净的衣领。目前仅有的另一位寄宿生潘基小姐因为当着来访客人的面三次呼呼地吸气,在这之前已经被领到城堡地牢(这是后面的一个空房间,专用来作为惩罚的场所)里去了。
  “唔,先生,”皮普钦太太对保罗说道,“您应当喜欢我,这您是怎么想的?”
  “我想我根本不会喜欢您,”保罗回答道。“我想离开这里,这不是我家的房屋。”
  “是的,这是我的房屋。”
  “这是个很讨厌的房屋,”保罗说道。
  “可是这里还有比这更坏的地方,”皮普钦太太说道,“我们把坏孩子关在那里。”
  “·他有没有在里面待过?”保罗指着比瑟斯通少爷,问道。
  皮普钦太太肯定地点点头,于是保罗这一天就忙乎不停地怀着对一位有过神秘与可怕经历的孩子的兴趣,从头到脚地打量着比瑟斯通少爷,注视着他脸上的所有表情变化。
  一点钟吃午饭,主要是含淀粉的和蔬菜一类的食品;这时候潘基小姐由恶魔本人把她从囚禁中领了进来。她是一位温柔的、蓝眼睛的、很小的女孩子。每天早上洗澡之后都要给她按摩身体,似乎整个人都有被揉搓掉的危险。这时恶魔教导她,在来访的客人面前呼呼吸气的人没有一位能进天堂的。当她彻底铭记这个伟大的真理之后,她就用米饭来款待她;接着念城堡中建立起来的饭后祷告辞,其中还包含了一个特别的从句,就是谢谢皮普钦太太赐给的美餐。皮普钦太太的侄女贝林霞吃冷猪肉。皮普钦太太的体质需要温暖的滋养食品,所以特别享用了一份羊排,它是被夹在两个盘子中间、热气腾腾地端进来的,散发出很好闻的香味。
  午饭后由于下雨,他们不能出去到海边散步,而皮普钦太太的体质在吃了羊排之后又需要休息,所以孩子们就由贝里(也就是贝林霞)领到城堡的地牢中去;这是一个空房间,面对着一堵白粉的墙壁和一个承雨的水桶;房间里有一个破烂的壁炉,里面没有生火,这使这个房间显得凄凉可怖。可是热闹的人群使它有了生气,这毕竟还是个最好的地方,因为贝里跟他们在那里玩耍,而且乱蹦乱跳地跟他们玩得似乎一样开心,直到皮普钦太太像复活了的公鸡巷的鬼怪①一样,怒气冲冲地敲着墙,他们才离开那里;然后贝里低声地给他们讲故事,直到黄昏来临。
  --------
  ①公鸡巷的鬼怪(theCockLaneGhost):十八世纪中叶,伦敦人都听说公鸡巷33号的住宅中出现了鬼怪,实际上却是这个住宅中的居民威廉·帕森斯(WilliamPar-sons)和他的妻子、女儿耍弄腹语术的把戏,来欺骗轻信的伦敦市民。后来骗局被揭穿。1762年,全家人被判处绑在耻辱柱上示众,并蹲坐监狱。
  喝茶的时候,供应给孩子们的是大量的搀水的牛奶,还有涂了黄油的面包;有一个小小的黑色的茶壶是给皮普钦太太与贝里的,还有涂了黄油的烤面包片像羊排一样热气腾腾地端进来,供皮普钦太太不限量地食用。皮普钦太太用了茶点之后外表虽然显出一副油腻腻的样子,但是她的五脏六腑似乎丝毫也没有被润滑过,因为她跟先前一样凶猛,那只冷酷的灰色眼睛也丝毫没有变得温柔起来。
  喝过茶以后,贝里取出一只盖上绘有皇亭的小针线盒,忙碌不停地干起活来;皮普钦太太则戴上眼镜,打开一本以桌面呢做封面的大书以后,开始打瞌睡。每当皮普钦太太身子往前倾斜,快要扑进炉火里,因而猛醒过来的时候,她总是用指头弹弹比瑟斯通少爷的鼻子,因为他也在打瞌睡。
  终于到了孩子们就寝的时间,做完祷告之后他们就上床睡觉。由于幼小的潘基小姐害怕单独在黑暗中睡觉,皮普钦太太总认为有必要由她亲自把她像羊似地赶到楼上去;听到潘基小姐在这根本不合适的卧室里仍长久地呜咽不停,皮普钦太太则不时走进去摇晃她,这是有趣的。大约九点半钟的时候,房屋里主要的芬芳气味(威肯姆大娘认为是建筑的气味)中又增添了一种热乎乎的羊胰脏的香味(按照皮普钦太太的体质,不吃小羊胰脏是睡不着觉的。)
  第二天早上的早餐和昨天夜间的茶点一样,所不同的是,皮普钦太太吃的是面包卷,而不是烤面包片,而且吃完之后脾气更大一些。比瑟斯通少爷向其余的人高声朗诵《创世纪》中的一个宗谱(这是皮普钦太太很有卓见地挑选出来的),像踩踏车的人那样从容不迫、明白无误地读过了那些姓名。在这之后,潘基小姐被领走去洗澡和按摩;比瑟斯通少爷则还要用盐水来把他折腾一番;他回来的时候总是无精打采,垂头丧气。在这期间,保罗和弗洛伦斯跟威肯姆(她总是经常不断地流泪)一起出去到海边。大约在中午的时候,由皮普钦太太主持念一些孩子的读物。皮普钦太太管教孩子的方法的一个方面,就是不鼓励孩子像一朵花蕾那样发展与扩张他的智力,而是像一只牡蛎那样强迫把它打开,因此这些功课所寓的教训通常是残暴无情和使人目瞪口呆的性质:主人公——一个顽皮的孩子——在最温和的结局中,通常总不外乎被一头狮子或一头熊送了终,很少不是这样的。
  这就是在皮普钦太太那里的生活。星期六董贝先生到这里来;弗洛伦斯和保罗则到他的旅馆里去,在那里喝茶。他们跟她一起度过整个星期天,通常在晚饭之前乘马车离开旅馆。这些时候,董贝先生似乎像福斯泰夫的敌人一样增长起来,从一个穿麻衣的人变成了十二个穿麻衣的人①。星期天晚上是一星期中最令人忧郁不乐的晚上,因为皮普钦太太星期天夜间脾气总是格外暴躁,她认为这是完全必要的。潘基小姐通常总是穿着深色的衣服,从住在罗廷丁的一位姨妈那里接回来;比瑟斯通少爷的亲戚全部在印度,所以皮普钦太太就命令他在做礼拜仪式间歇的时候,身子挺得笔直地坐在那里,头靠着客厅的墙壁,手和脚都不准移动;他那年幼的心灵遭受到的痛苦实在十分凄楚,因此有一个星期天的夜间他问弗洛伦斯,她能不能多少指点他一下,回孟加拉的道路是怎么走的。
  --------
  ①见莎士比亚戏剧《亨利四世》上篇第二幕第四场。福斯泰夫起先向亨利亲王吹牛说,他的敌人是两个穿麻衣的恶汉,但不一会儿说成是四个人,最后又说,“凭这柄剑起誓,他们一共有七个,否则我就是个坏人。”于是亨利亲王说,“让他去吧;等一会儿我们还要听到更多的人数哩。”这里是指董贝先生在这种时候态度比平时更显得生硬呆板。
  不过人们通常都说,皮普钦太太是一位很有办法管理孩子的女人,毫无疑问她也确实如此。那些粗野的孩子在她款待周到的屋顶下寄居几个月之后,回家时确实都十分驯服。人们通常也说,当皮普钦先生在秘鲁的矿井伤心而死去以后,她献身于这样一种生活方式,在感情上作出这样大的牺牲,这样坚决地克服各种困难,这是令人极为钦佩的。
  对于这位堪称楷模的老太太,保罗总是在壁炉旁边坐在他的小扶手椅子里,目不转睛地看着,不论时间有多久。当他一动不动地看着皮普钦太太的时候,他似乎从来不知道疲倦。他不喜欢她;他不怕她。但是在他那老气而又老气的心绪中,她似乎对他有一种奇异的吸引力。他会坐在那里看着她,烘烘手,又看着她,直到有时他使皮普钦太太也感到十分困窘(尽管她是一位恶魔)。有一次当只有他们两个人的时候,她问他,他在想什么。
  “想您,”保罗十分坦率地说道。
  “您想我什么?”皮普钦太太问道。
  “我在想您该有多老了,”保罗说道。
  “您不应该说这样的话,年轻的先生,”那位老太太回答道,“那是绝对不合适的。”
  “为什么不合适?”保罗问道。
  “因为那不礼貌,”皮普钦太太暴躁地说道。
  “不礼貌吗?”保罗说道。
  “是的。”
  “威肯姆说,“保罗天真地说道,“一个人把所有的羊排和烤面包片都吃掉是不礼貌的。”
  “威肯姆,”皮普钦太太红着脸,回答道,“是个邪恶的、冒失无礼的、厚颜无耻的贱货。”
  “那是什么?”保罗问道。
  “这不关您的事,先生,”皮普钦太太回答道。“记住那个小男孩的故事,他因为爱问这问那,结果就被一头发了疯的公牛用角顶死了。”
  “如果那头公牛是疯的,”保罗说道,“它怎么知道这个小男孩问了问题?谁也不会走到疯牛跟前,低声地把秘密告诉它呀。我不相信这个故事。”
  “您不相信它吗,先生?”皮普钦太太吃惊地重复说道。
  “不相信,”保罗说道。
  “如果碰巧这是一头温顺的牛,那么您也不相信吗,您这个不信神的小先生!”皮普钦太太说道。
  由于保罗没有从那一方面来考虑问题,而是根据公牛发疯这一事实来作出结论的,所以他暂时只好听凭她把自己难倒了。可是他坐在那里,心中转悠着这个问题,显然企图立刻就把皮普钦太太打败,因此连那位严酷的老太太也认为退却比较稳妥,让他把这个问题忘掉再说。
  从那时起,皮普钦太太感觉到有同样一种奇怪的吸引力把她吸引到保罗身上,就像保罗感觉到有一种奇怪的吸引力把他吸引到她身上一样。她会让他把他的椅子移到壁炉靠她的那一边,而不是坐在她的对面;他会坐在皮普钦太太与壁炉围栏之间的角落里,他的小脸上的所有光亮都被吸引到黑色的邦巴辛毛葛衣服中;这时他研究着她脸部的每一丝线条和每一道皱纹,凝视着那只冷酷的灰色眼睛,直到皮普钦太太借口打瞌睡,假装闭上它为止。皮普钦太太有一只老黑猫,通常蜷曲着身子,躺在壁炉围栏中间的一只脚上,自高自大地喵喵叫着,同时向炉火眨巴着眼睛,直到后来它的眼睛内的瞳孔缩在一起时就像两个赞叹号似的。当他们全都坐在壁炉旁边的时候,这位善良的老太太活像是一位巫婆(这么说倒并不是想对她表示不尊敬),保罗与那只猫就像是供她差遣的两位妖精。只要看到他们这一伙的这种样子,那么如果有一天夜间他们在疾风中跳进烟囱,从此杳然无闻的话,那是不会令人惊奇的。
  可是从来不曾发生过这样的事情。天黑以后,那只猫、保罗和皮普钦太太总是始终不变地坐在他们原先的老地方。保罗避开和比瑟斯通少爷做伴,一夜又一夜,继续研究着皮普钦太太、那只猫和火,仿佛他们是三卷巫术书似的。
  威肯姆大嫂对保罗的古怪脾气有她自己的看法;由于她从她习惯坐着的房间望出去是一片混乱的烟囱的景色,由于风的呼啸,由于她目前生活的沉闷无趣(用威肯姆大嫂强烈的话来说,那真是“难受得要命”),所以她的低沉的情绪无法好转,而且她从上述的前提中得出了极为惨淡的结论。皮普钦太太的一个方针就是阻止她自己的“轻佻的小贱货”——这是皮普钦太太对她的女仆的总的称呼——跟威肯姆大嫂交往;为了这个目的,她耗费好多时间躲藏在门后,只要有一位忠心的姑娘向威肯姆的房间走去,她就会跳出来吓唬她。可是贝里却能自由地到那个地方去谈话,只要不妨碍她从早到晚劳累不停地执行她那些五花八门的任务就行;也只有在跟贝里交谈的时候,威肯姆大嫂才能把她心里的话倾吐出来。
  “他睡着的时候是个多么漂亮的小家伙!”贝里有一天夜间端着威肯姆的晚餐,停下来看看床上的保罗,说道。
  “啊!”威肯姆叹气道。“他应当是漂亮的。”
  “唔,他醒着的时候也不难看,”贝里评论道。
  “是的,夫人。啊,是的,我舅舅的女儿贝特西·简也这样,”威肯姆说道。
  贝里脸上露出的表情看上去仿佛是她想探根究源地了解一下保罗·董贝与威肯姆大嫂舅舅的女儿贝特西·简之间的关系。
  “我舅舅的妻子,”威肯姆接下去说道,“就像她的妈妈一样死掉。我舅舅的女儿就像保罗少爷一样悲伤,我舅舅的女儿有时使人心惊胆寒,她常常是这样的。”
  “怎么样的呢?”贝里问道。
  “我不愿意跟贝特西·简两个人在一起坐一整夜!”威肯姆大嫂说道,“哪怕明天早上您让威肯姆去料理他自己的事情我也不干,我做不到,贝里小姐。”
  贝里小姐自然问为什么做不到?可是威肯姆大嫂按照她那种身份的一些人的习惯,无动于衷地沿着自己的思路说下去。
  “贝特西·简是个我能希望见到的可爱的孩子,”威肯姆大嫂说道,“我不能希望见到比她更可爱的孩子了。一个孩子所能生的各种病,贝特西·简全都生过了。痉挛对她来说是习以为常的事情,”威肯姆大嫂说道,“就像疖子对您一样,贝里小姐。”贝里小姐不由自主地皱了皱鼻子。
  “可是贝特西·简,”威肯姆大嫂压低了嗓子,向房间四处环视了一下,面向着床上的保罗,说道,“在摇篮里的时候曾经由她已经去世的母亲照料过。我说不出是怎么照料的,我也说不出是什么时候照料的,我也说不出这孩子是不是知道这件事,但是贝特西·简曾经由她的母亲照料过,贝里小姐!您可能会说这是废话!我不会生气见怪,小姐,我希望您能不昧良心地认为,这·是废话,那样您就会觉得您待在这个地方的心情要好得多;这是个像坟场一样的地方——请您原谅我这么放肆——,它使我腻烦透顶了。保罗少爷睡得有点不安静,劳驾您拍拍他的背。”
  “当然,您认为,”贝里按照她的请求,轻轻地拍着,同时说道,“·他也被他的母亲养育过吗?”
  “贝特西·简,”威肯姆大嫂用她最严肃的语气说道,“就像那个孩子一样没交好运,就像那个孩子一样改变了。我不时看到她坐在那里,想呀,想呀,一直在想着,就像他一样。我不时看到她看去很老气,很老气,很老气,就像他一样。我好多次听到她讲起话来就像他一样。我觉得那个孩子的情况跟贝特西·简完全一样,贝里小姐。”
  “您舅舅的女儿活着吗?”贝里问道。
  “是的,小姐,她活着,”威肯姆大嫂回答道,她露出胜利得意的神态,因为显而易见,贝里小姐以为得到的是相反的回答;“而且嫁给了一位雕刻银器的艺人。啊是的,·她活着。”
  威肯姆大嫂把语气特别着重放在“她”这个主词上。
  显然,有什么人死了,所以皮普钦太太的侄女问谁死了。
  “我不希望使您感到不安,”威肯姆大嫂继续吃着晚饭,说道,“别问我。”
  这是必然会引起再次发问的方式,因此贝里小姐又重复问了她的问题;威肯姆大嫂心中经过一番对抗与踌躇之后,放下刀子,又往房间四处和床上的保罗看了一眼,说道:
  “她对人们都很喜欢,有的是古怪的喜爱,有的是人们可能期望见到的亲热——只不过比通常强烈一些就是了。他们这些人全都死了。”
  对皮普钦太太的侄女来说,这是个十分出乎意料和可怕的事情,因此她直挺挺地坐在坚硬的床边上,急促地喘着气,露出毫不掩饰的恐怖的神色,仔细地打量着报告这个消息的人。
  威肯姆大嫂朝着弗洛伦斯躺着的床悄悄地晃了晃左食指,然后从上往下移动,好几次着重地指了指地板;地板下面就是客厅,皮普钦太太惯常在那里吃烤面包片的。
  “记住我的话,贝里小姐,”威肯姆大嫂说道,“保罗少爷不太喜欢您,您该为此而感到欣慰。我跟您说实话,因为他也不太喜欢我,所以我也为此而感到欣慰;虽然——请原谅我这么放肆——在这个监狱般的房屋里活着也没有多大意思!”
  贝里小姐这时的情绪可能使她拍保罗的背拍得太重了,或者可能她在抚慰他的单调动作中突然休止了一下;不管情况怎么样,反正这时候他在床上转动着身子,不一会儿醒了,就在床上坐了起来;由于做了什么孩子的梦的缘故,头发又热又湿;他呼唤着弗洛伦斯。
  她一听到他的第一声声音就从自己的床上跳了出来,立即伏在他的枕头上,重新唱着歌,哄他睡觉。威肯姆大嫂摇摇头,掉下了一些眼泪,向贝里指着这两个人,然后眼睛仰望着天花板。
  “晚安,小姐!”威肯姆轻声说道,“晚安!您的姑妈是一位老太太,贝里小姐,这一定是您经常盼望的吧!”
  威肯姆大嫂露出感到衷心悲痛的神色来伴随这安慰的再见。当她重新和这两个孩子待在一起,听到风正在凄凉地吹刮着的时候,她沉陷在忧郁之中——这是最廉价的、也是最容易得到的享受——,直到她昏昏睡去。
  皮普钦太太的侄女回到楼下的时候,虽然没有期望看到那条模范的龙①会平卧在炉边的地毯上,她却感到宽慰地看到她异乎寻常地爱发脾气和严厉,各个方面都表现出她打算再活很久一段时间,让所有认识她的人都得到安慰。在接着来临的一个星期之中,虽然保罗仍占着黑裙与壁炉围栏之间他平时的位置,怀着毫不动摇的恒心,跟先前一样专心致志地研究着她,但当她的体质所需要的食品仍一个接着一个不断地被消耗掉的时候,她并没有呈现出任何衰老的症状。
  --------
  ①指皮普钦太太。龙在欧洲不像在中国是一种吉祥的动物,而是一种凶恶的动物。
  保罗本人经过这段时间之后,虽然脸上看去比过去健康得多,但却并没有比他最初到达的时候强壮起来,所以为他购置了一辆小车,他可以带着字母表和其他初级读物,悠闲地躺在里面,被拉到海边去。这孩子还是那种古怪脾气,他拒绝了一位脸色红润的少年来给他拉车,却选择了这少年的祖父来代替他。这位祖父是一个满是皱纹、蟹形脸的老头子,穿着一套破旧的油布衣,由于长期浸泡在海水里,他肌肉刚硬,青筋暴露,身上的气味就像退潮时充满海藻的海边的气味一样。
  这位出色的仆人向前拉着他,弗洛伦斯经常在他身边走着,心灰意懒的威肯姆随后。他就这样每天到达海洋的边缘;他会在他的小车中接连几个小时坐着或躺着;要是有孩子们来跟他做伴,那是最使他深感到苦恼的,——只有弗洛伦斯一人总是例外。
  “请走开吧,”他会对前来跟他交朋友的孩子说。“谢谢您,但是我不需要您。”
  也许会有什么年幼的声音挨近他的身边,问他好吗。
  “我很好,谢谢您,”他会回答道。“但是对不起,请您最好还是走开,自己玩去吧。”
  然后他会把头转过去,注视那孩子走开,并对弗洛伦斯说道,“我们不需要其他任何人,是不是?亲亲我,弗洛伊。”
  她按照平时的习惯,漫步走去捡贝壳或找熟人的时候,他会十分高兴。他最喜爱的地方是一个十分幽静的场所,远远离开大多数闲游的人们;这时弗洛伦斯坐在他身旁干着针线活,或念书给他听或跟他谈话;风吹拂着他的脸,海水涌到他的床的轮子中间;他不需要别的什么了。
  “弗洛伊,”有一天他说道,“那个男孩的亲友们所住的印度在什么地方?”
  “啊,离开这里很远很远,”弗洛伦斯从针线活中抬起眼睛,说道。
  “要走好几个星期吗?”保罗问道。
  “是的,亲爱的。日夜赶路,也需要好多个星期的路程。”
  “如果你在印度的话,弗洛伊,”保罗沉默了一分钟之后,说道,“那么我就会——妈妈是怎么的?我记不得了。”
  “爱我!”弗洛伦斯回答道。
  “不,不。我现在不是爱你吗,弗洛伊?那叫什么来着?——死去。如果你在印度的话,那么我就会死去,弗洛伊。”
  她急忙把活计抛开,把头伏在他的枕头上,爱抚着他。她说,如果他在那里,那么她也会死去的,又说他很快就会好起来的。
  “啊,我现在好多啦!”他回答道。“我不是那个意思。我的意思是说,我会因为十分悲伤十分孤独而死去的,弗洛伊!”
  还有一次,在同一个地方,他睡着了,安安静静地睡了好久。突然间他醒来了;他听着,惊跳起来,然后坐下来听着。
  “我想要了解它说什么,”他凝视着她的脸。“这海,弗洛伊,它一直在说着一些什么话?”
  她告诉他,那只是滚滚流动的海浪的喧声。
  “是的,是的,”他说道。“但是我知道它们老是在说着什么事情。老是同一个事情。那一边是什么地方?”
  他站起来,热切地望着地平线。
  她告诉他,那对面是另一个国家;但是他说他不是那个意思,他是说在远远的那一边,远远的那一边!
  从此以后,他时常在谈话的中途,突然停止,设法了解这些海浪老是在说些什么话,而且会在他的车子中站起来,眺望着那遥远的望不见的地方。


慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 9
In which the Wooden Midshipman gets into Trouble
That spice of romance and love of the marvellous, of which there was a pretty strong infusion in the nature of young Walter Gay, and which the guardianship of his Uncle, old Solomon Gills, had not very much weakened by the waters of stern practical experience, was the occasion of his attaching an uncommon and delightful interest to the adventure of Florence with Good Mrs Brown. He pampered and cherished it in his memory, especially that part of it with which he had been associated: until it became the spoiled child of his fancy, and took its own way, and did what it liked with it.
The recollection of those incidents, and his own share in them, may have been made the more captivating, perhaps, by the weekly dreamings of old Sol and Captain Cuttle on Sundays. Hardly a Sunday passed, without mysterious references being made by one or other of those worthy chums to Richard Whittington; and the latter gentleman had even gone so far as to purchase a ballad of considerable antiquity, that had long fluttered among many others, chiefly expressive of maritime sentiments, on a dead wall in the Commercial Road: which poetical performance set forth the courtship and nuptials of a promising young coal-whipper with a certain 'lovely Peg,' the accomplished daughter of the master and part-owner of a Newcastle collier. In this stirring legend, Captain Cuttle descried a profound metaphysical bearing on the case of Walter and Florence; and it excited him so much, that on very festive occasions, as birthdays and a few other non-Dominical holidays, he would roar through the whole song in the little back parlour; making an amazing shake on the word Pe-e-eg, with which every verse concluded, in compliment to the heroine of the piece.
But a frank, free-spirited, open-hearted boy, is not much given to analysing the nature of his own feelings, however strong their hold upon him: and Walter would have found it difficult to decide this point. He had a great affection for the wharf where he had encountered Florence, and for the streets (albeit not enchanting in themselves) by which they had come home. The shoes that had so often tumbled off by the way, he preserved in his own room; and, sitting in the little back parlour of an evening, he had drawn a whole gallery of fancy portraits of Good Mrs Brown. It may be that he became a little smarter in his dress after that memorable occasion; and he certainly liked in his leisure time to walk towards that quarter of the town where Mr Dombey's house was situated, on the vague chance of passing little Florence in the street. But the sentiment of all this was as boyish and innocent as could be. Florence was very pretty, and it is pleasant to admire a pretty face. Florence was defenceless and weak, and it was a proud thought that he had been able to render her any protection and assistance. Florence was the most grateful little creature in the world, and it was delightful to see her bright gratitude beaming in her face. Florence was neglected and coldly looked upon, and his breast was full of youthful interest for the slighted child in her dull, stately home.
Thus it came about that, perhaps some half-a-dozen times in the course of the year, Walter pulled off his hat to Florence in the street, and Florence would stop to shake hands. Mrs Wickam (who, with a characteristic alteration of his name, invariably spoke of him as 'Young Graves') was so well used to this, knowing the story of their acquaintance, that she took no heed of it at all. Miss Nipper, on the other hand, rather looked out for these occasions: her sensitive young heart being secretly propitiated by Walter's good looks, and inclining to the belief that its sentiments were responded to.
In this way, Walter, so far from forgetting or losing sight of his acquaintance with Florence, only remembered it better and better. As to its adventurous beginning, and all those little circumstances which gave it a distinctive character and relish, he took them into account, more as a pleasant story very agreeable to his imagination, and not to be dismissed from it, than as a part of any matter of fact with which he was concerned. They set off Florence very much, to his fancy; but not himself. Sometimes he thought (and then he walked very fast) what a grand thing it would have been for him to have been going to sea on the day after that first meeting, and to have gone, and to have done wonders there, and to have stopped away a long time, and to have come back an Admiral of all the colours of the dolphin, or at least a Post-Captain with epaulettes of insupportable brightness, and have married Florence (then a beautiful young woman) in spite of Mr Dombey's teeth, cravat, and watch-chain, and borne her away to the blue shores of somewhere or other, triumphantly. But these flights of fancy seldom burnished the brass plate of Dombey and Son's Offices into a tablet of golden hope, or shed a brilliant lustre on their dirty skylights; and when the Captain and Uncle Sol talked about Richard Whittington and masters' daughters, Walter felt that he understood his true position at Dombey and Son's, much better than they did.
So it was that he went on doing what he had to do from day to day, in a cheerful, pains-taking, merry spirit; and saw through the sanguine complexion of Uncle Sol and Captain Cuttle; and yet entertained a thousand indistinct and visionary fancies of his own, to which theirs were work-a-day probabilities. Such was his condition at the Pipchin period, when he looked a little older than of yore, but not much; and was the same light-footed, light-hearted, light-headed lad, as when he charged into the parlour at the head of Uncle Sol and the imaginary boarders, and lighted him to bring up the Madeira.
'Uncle Sol,' said Walter, 'I don't think you're well. You haven't eaten any breakfast. I shall bring a doctor to you, if you go on like this.'
'He can't give me what I want, my boy,' said Uncle Sol. 'At least he is in good practice if he can - and then he wouldn't.'
'What is it, Uncle? Customers?'
'Ay,' returned Solomon, with a sigh. 'Customers would do.'
'Confound it, Uncle!' said Walter, putting down his breakfast cup with a clatter, and striking his hand on the table: 'when I see the people going up and down the street in shoals all day, and passing and re-passing the shop every minute, by scores, I feel half tempted to rush out, collar somebody, bring him in, and make him buy fifty pounds' worth of instruments for ready money. What are you looking in at the door for? - ' continued Walter, apostrophizing an old gentleman with a powdered head (inaudibly to him of course), who was staring at a ship's telescope with all his might and main. 'That's no use. I could do that. Come in and buy it!'
The old gentleman, however, having satiated his curiosity, walked calmly away.
'There he goes!' said Walter. 'That's the way with 'em all. But, Uncle - I say, Uncle Sol' - for the old man was meditating and had not responded to his first appeal. 'Don't be cast down. Don't be out of spirits, Uncle. When orders do come, they'll come in such a crowd, you won't be able to execute 'em.'
'I shall be past executing 'em, whenever they come, my boy,' returned Solomon Gills. 'They'll never come to this shop again, till I am out of t.'
'I say, Uncle! You musn't really, you know!' urged Walter. 'Don't!'
Old Sol endeavoured to assume a cheery look, and smiled across the little table at him as pleasantly as he could.
'There's nothing more than usual the matter; is there, Uncle?' said Walter, leaning his elbows on the tea tray, and bending over, to speak the more confidentially and kindly. 'Be open with me, Uncle, if there is, and tell me all about it.'
'No, no, no,' returned Old Sol. 'More than usual? No, no. What should there be the matter more than usual?'
Walter answered with an incredulous shake of his head. 'That's what I want to know,' he said, 'and you ask me! I'll tell you what, Uncle, when I see you like this, I am quite sorry that I live with you.'
Old Sol opened his eyes involuntarily.
'Yes. Though nobody ever was happier than I am and always have been with you, I am quite sorry that I live with you, when I see you with anything in your mind.'
'I am a little dull at such times, I know,' observed Solomon, meekly rubbing his hands.
'What I mean, Uncle Sol,' pursued Walter, bending over a little more to pat him on the shoulder, 'is, that then I feel you ought to have, sitting here and pouring out the tea instead of me, a nice little dumpling of a wife, you know, - a comfortable, capital, cosy old lady, who was just a match for you, and knew how to manage you, and keep you in good heart. Here am I, as loving a nephew as ever was (I am sure I ought to be!) but I am only a nephew, and I can't be such a companion to you when you're low and out of sorts as she would have made herself, years ago, though I'm sure I'd give any money if I could cheer you up. And so I say, when I see you with anything on your mind, that I feel quite sorry you haven't got somebody better about you than a blundering young rough-and-tough boy like me, who has got the will to console you, Uncle, but hasn't got the way - hasn't got the way,' repeated Walter, reaching over further yet, to shake his Uncle by the hand.
'Wally, my dear boy,' said Solomon, 'if the cosy little old lady had taken her place in this parlour five and forty years ago, I never could have been fonder of her than I am of you.'
'I know that, Uncle Sol,' returned Walter. 'Lord bless you, I know that. But you wouldn't have had the whole weight of any uncomfortable secrets if she had been with you, because she would have known how to relieve you of 'em, and I don't.'
'Yes, yes, you do,' returned the Instrument-maker.
'Well then, what's the matter, Uncle Sol?' said Walter, coaxingly. 'Come! What's the matter?'
Solomon Gills persisted that there was nothing the matter; and maintained it so resolutely, that his nephew had no resource but to make a very indifferent imitation of believing him.
'All I can say is, Uncle Sol, that if there is - '
'But there isn't,' said Solomon.
'Very well,, said Walter. 'Then I've no more to say; and that's lucky, for my time's up for going to business. I shall look in by-and-by when I'm out, to see how you get on, Uncle. And mind, Uncle! I'll never believe you again, and never tell you anything more about Mr Carker the Junior, if I find out that you have been deceiving me!'
Solomon Gills laughingly defied him to find out anything of the kind; and Walter, revolving in his thoughts all sorts of impracticable ways of making fortunes and placing the wooden Midshipman in a position of independence, betook himself to the offices of Dombey and Son with a heavier countenance than he usually carried there.
There lived in those days, round the corner - in Bishopsgate Street Without - one Brogley, sworn broker and appraiser, who kept a shop where every description of second-hand furniture was exhibited in the most uncomfortable aspect, and under circumstances and in combinations the most completely foreign to its purpose. Dozens of chairs hooked on to washing-stands, which with difficulty poised themselves on the shoulders of sideboards, which in their turn stood upon the wrong side of dining-tables, gymnastic with their legs upward on the tops of other dining-tables, were among its most reasonable arrangements. A banquet array of dish-covers, wine-glasses, and decanters was generally to be seen, spread forth upon the bosom of a four-post bedstead, for the entertainment of such genial company as half-a-dozen pokers, and a hall lamp. A set of window curtains with no windows belonging to them, would be seen gracefully draping a barricade of chests of drawers, loaded with little jars from chemists' shops; while a homeless hearthrug severed from its natural companion the fireside, braved the shrewd east wind in its adversity, and trembled in melancholy accord with the shrill complainings of a cabinet piano, wasting away, a string a day, and faintly resounding to the noises of the street in its jangling and distracted brain. Of motionless clocks that never stirred a finger, and seemed as incapable of being successfully wound up, as the pecuniary affairs of their former owners, there was always great choice in Mr Brogley's shop; and various looking-glasses, accidentally placed at compound interest of reflection and refraction, presented to the eye an eternal perspective of bankruptcy and ruin.
Mr Brogley himself was a moist-eyed, pink-complexioned, crisp-haired man, of a bulky figure and an easy temper - for that class of Caius Marius who sits upon the ruins of other people's Carthages, can keep up his spirits well enough. He had looked in at Solomon's shop sometimes, to ask a question about articles in Solomon's way of business; and Walter knew him sufficiently to give him good day when they met in the street. But as that was the extent of the broker's acquaintance with Solomon Gills also, Walter was not a little surprised when he came back in the course of the forenoon, agreeably to his promise, to find Mr Brogley sitting in the back parlour with his hands in his pockets, and his hat hanging up behind the door.
'Well, Uncle Sol!' said Walter. The old man was sitting ruefully on the opposite side of the table, with his spectacles over his eyes, for a wonder, instead of on his forehead. 'How are you now?'
Solomon shook his head, and waved one hand towards the broker, as introducing him.
'Is there anything the matter?' asked Walter, with a catching in his breath.
'No, no. There's nothing the matter, said Mr Brogley. 'Don't let it put you out of the way.' Walter looked from the broker to his Uncle in mute amazement. 'The fact is,' said Mr Brogley, 'there's a little payment on a bond debt - three hundred and seventy odd, overdue: and I'm in possession.'
'In possession!' cried Walter, looking round at the shop.
'Ah!' said Mr Brogley, in confidential assent, and nodding his head as if he would urge the advisability of their all being comfortable together. 'It's an execution. That's what it is. Don't let it put you out of the way. I come myself, because of keeping it quiet and sociable. You know me. It's quite private.'
'Uncle Sol!' faltered Walter.
'Wally, my boy,' returned his uncle. 'It's the first time. Such a calamity never happened to me before. I'm an old man to begin.' Pushing up his spectacles again (for they were useless any longer to conceal his emotion), he covered his face with his hand, and sobbed aloud, and his tears fell down upon his coffee-coloured waistcoat.
'Uncle Sol! Pray! oh don't!' exclaimed Walter, who really felt a thrill of terror in seeing the old man weep. 'For God's sake don't do that. Mr Brogley, what shall I do?'
'I should recommend you looking up a friend or so,' said Mr Brogley, 'and talking it over.'
'To be sure!' cried Walter, catching at anything. 'Certainly! Thankee. Captain Cuttle's the man, Uncle. Wait till I run to Captain Cuttle. Keep your eye upon my Uncle, will you, Mr Brogley, and make him as comfortable as you can while I am gone? Don't despair, Uncle Sol. Try and keep a good heart, there's a dear fellow!'
Saying this with great fervour, and disregarding the old man's broken remonstrances, Walter dashed out of the shop again as hard as he could go; and, having hurried round to the office to excuse himself on the plea of his Uncle's sudden illness, set off, full speed, for Captain Cuttle's residence.
Everything seemed altered as he ran along the streets. There were the usual entanglement and noise of carts, drays, omnibuses, waggons, and foot passengers, but the misfortune that had fallen on the wooden Midshipman made it strange and new. Houses and shops were different from what they used to be, and bore Mr Brogley's warrant on their fronts in large characters. The broker seemed to have got hold of the very churches; for their spires rose into the sky with an unwonted air. Even the sky itself was changed, and had an execution in it plainly.
Captain Cuttle lived on the brink of a little canal near the India Docks, where there was a swivel bridge which opened now and then to let some wandering monster of a ship come roamIng up the street like a stranded leviathan. The gradual change from land to water, on the approach to Captain Cuttle's lodgings, was curious. It began with the erection of flagstaffs, as appurtenances to public-houses; then came slop-sellers' shops, with Guernsey shirts, sou'wester hats, and canvas pantaloons, at once the tightest and the loosest of their order, hanging up outside. These were succeeded by anchor and chain-cable forges, where sledgehammers were dinging upon iron all day long. Then came rows of houses, with little vane-surmounted masts uprearing themselves from among the scarlet beans. Then, ditches. Then, pollard willows. Then, more ditches. Then, unaccountable patches of dirty water, hardly to be descried, for the ships that covered them. Then, the air was perfumed with chips; and all other trades were swallowed up in mast, oar, and block-making, and boatbuilding. Then, the ground grew marshy and unsettled. Then, there was nothing to be smelt but rum and sugar. Then, Captain Cuttle's lodgings - at once a first floor and a top storey, in Brig Place - were close before you.
The Captain was one of those timber-looking men, suits of oak as well as hearts, whom it is almost impossible for the liveliest imagination to separate from any part of their dress, however insignificant. Accordingly, when Walter knocked at the door, and the Captain instantly poked his head out of one of his little front windows, and hailed him, with the hard glared hat already on it, and the shirt-collar like a sail, and the wide suit of blue, all standing as usual, Walter was as fully persuaded that he was always in that state, as if the Captain had been a bird and those had been his feathers.
'Wal'r, my lad!'said Captain Cuttle. 'Stand by and knock again. Hard! It's washing day.'
Walter, in his impatience, gave a prodigious thump with the knocker.
'Hard it is!' said Captain Cuttle, and immediately drew in his head, as if he expected a squall.
Nor was he mistaken: for a widow lady, with her sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, and her arms frothy with soap-suds and smoking with hot water, replied to the summons with startling rapidity. Before she looked at Walter she looked at the knocker, and then, measuring him with her eyes from head to foot, said she wondered he had left any of it.
'Captain Cuttle's at home, I know,' said Walter with a conciliatory smile.
'Is he?' replied the widow lady. 'In-deed!'
'He has just been speaking to me,' said Walter, in breathless explanation.
'Has he?' replied the widow lady. 'Then p'raps you'll give him Mrs MacStinger's respects, and say that the next time he lowers himself and his lodgings by talking out of the winder she'll thank him to come down and open the door too.' Mrs MacStinger spoke loud, and listened for any observations that might be offered from the first floor.
'I'll mention it,' said Walter, 'if you'll have the goodness to let me in, Ma'am.'
For he was repelled by a wooden fortification extending across the doorway, and put there to prevent the little MacStingers in their moments of recreation from tumbling down the steps.
'A boy that can knock my door down,' said Mrs MacStinger, contemptuously, 'can get over that, I should hope!' But Walter, taking this as a permission to enter, and getting over it, Mrs MacStinger immediately demanded whether an Englishwoman's house was her castle or not; and whether she was to be broke in upon by 'raff.' On these subjects her thirst for information was still very importunate, when Walter, having made his way up the little staircase through an artificial fog occasioned by the washing, which covered the banisters with a clammy perspiration, entered Captain Cuttle's room, and found that gentleman in ambush behind the door.
'Never owed her a penny, Wal'r,' said Captain Cuttle, in a low voice, and with visible marks of trepidation on his countenance. 'Done her a world of good turns, and the children too. Vixen at times, though. Whew!'
'I should go away, Captain Cuttle,' said Walter.
'Dursn't do it, Wal'r,' returned the Captain. 'She'd find me out, wherever I went. Sit down. How's Gills?'
The Captain was dining (in his hat) off cold loin of mutton, porter, and some smoking hot potatoes, which he had cooked himself, and took out of a little saucepan before the fire as he wanted them. He unscrewed his hook at dinner-time, and screwed a knife into its wooden socket instead, with which he had already begun to peel one of these potatoes for Walter. His rooms were very small, and strongly impregnated with tobacco-smoke, but snug enough: everything being stowed away, as if there were an earthquake regularly every half-hour.
'How's Gills?' inquired the Captain.
Walter, who had by this time recovered his breath, and lost his spirits - or such temporary spirits as his rapid journey had given him - looked at his questioner for a moment, said 'Oh, Captain Cuttle!' and burst into tears.
No words can describe the Captain's consternation at this sight Mrs MacStinger faded into nothing before it. He dropped the potato and the fork - and would have dropped the knife too if he could - and sat gazing at the boy, as if he expected to hear next moment that a gulf had opened in the City, which had swallowed up his old friend, coffee-coloured suit, buttons, chronometer, spectacles, and all.
But when Walter told him what was really the matter, Captain Cuttle, after a moment's reflection, started up into full activity. He emptied out of a little tin canister on the top shelf of the cupboard, his whole stock of ready money (amounting to thirteen pounds and half-a-crown), which he transferred to one of the pockets of his square blue coat; further enriched that repository with the contents of his plate chest, consisting of two withered atomies of tea-spoons, and an obsolete pair of knock-knee'd sugar-tongs; pulled up his immense double-cased silver watch from the depths in which it reposed, to assure himself that that valuable was sound and whole; re-attached the hook to his right wrist; and seizing the stick covered over with knobs, bade Walter come along.
Remembering, however, in the midst of his virtuous excitement, that Mrs MacStinger might be lying in wait below, Captain Cuttle hesitated at last, not without glancing at the window, as if he had some thoughts of escaping by that unusual means of egress, rather than encounter his terrible enemy. He decided, however, in favour of stratagem.
'Wal'r,' said the Captain, with a timid wink, 'go afore, my lad. Sing out, "good-bye, Captain Cuttle," when you're in the passage, and shut the door. Then wait at the corner of the street 'till you see me.
These directions were not issued without a previous knowledge of the enemy's tactics, for when Walter got downstairs, Mrs MacStinger glided out of the little back kitchen, like an avenging spirit. But not gliding out upon the Captain, as she had expected, she merely made a further allusion to the knocker, and glided in again.
Some five minutes elapsed before Captain Cuttle could summon courage to attempt his escape; for Walter waited so long at the street corner, looking back at the house, before there were any symptoms of the hard glazed hat. At length the Captain burst out of the door with the suddenness of an explosion, and coming towards him at a great pace, and never once looking over his shoulder, pretended, as soon as they were well out of the street, to whistle a tune.
'Uncle much hove down, Wal'r?' inquired the Captain, as they were walking along.
'I am afraid so. If you had seen him this morning, you would never have forgotten it.'
'Walk fast, Wal'r, my lad,' returned the Captain, mending his pace; 'and walk the same all the days of your life. Overhaul the catechism for that advice, and keep it!'
The Captain was too busy with his own thoughts of Solomon Gills, mingled perhaps with some reflections on his late escape from Mrs MacStinger, to offer any further quotations on the way for Walter's moral improvement They interchanged no other word until they arrived at old Sol's door, where the unfortunate wooden Midshipman, with his instrument at his eye, seemed to be surveying the whole horizon in search of some friend to help him out of his difficulty.
'Gills!' said the Captain, hurrying into the back parlour, and taking him by the hand quite tenderly. 'Lay your head well to the wind, and we'll fight through it. All you've got to do,' said the Captain, with the solemnity of a man who was delivering himself of one of the most precious practical tenets ever discovered by human wisdom, 'is to lay your head well to the wind, and we'll fight through it!'
Old Sol returned the pressure of his hand, and thanked him.
Captain Cuttle, then, with a gravity suitable to the nature of the occasion, put down upon the table the two tea-spoons and the sugar-tongs, the silver watch, and the ready money; and asked Mr Brogley, the broker, what the damage was.
'Come! What do you make of it?' said Captain Cuttle.
'Why, Lord help you!' returned the broker; 'you don't suppose that property's of any use, do you?'
'Why not?' inquired the Captain.
'Why? The amount's three hundred and seventy, odd,' replied the broker.
'Never mind,' returned the Captain, though he was evidently dismayed by the figures: 'all's fish that comes to your net, I suppose?'
'Certainly,' said Mr Brogley. 'But sprats ain't whales, you know.'
The philosophy of this observation seemed to strike the Captain. He ruminated for a minute; eyeing the broker, meanwhile, as a deep genius; and then called the Instrument-maker aside.
'Gills,' said Captain Cuttle, 'what's the bearings of this business? Who's the creditor?'
'Hush!' returned the old man. 'Come away. Don't speak before Wally. It's a matter of security for Wally's father - an old bond. I've paid a good deal of it, Ned, but the times are so bad with me that I can't do more just now. I've foreseen it, but I couldn't help it. Not a word before Wally, for all the world.'
'You've got some money, haven't you?' whispered the Captain.
'Yes, yes - oh yes- I've got some,' returned old Sol, first putting his hands into his empty pockets, and then squeezing his Welsh wig between them, as if he thought he might wring some gold out of it; 'but I - the little I have got, isn't convertible, Ned; it can't be got at. I have been trying to do something with it for Wally, and I'm old fashioned, and behind the time. It's here and there, and - and, in short, it's as good as nowhere,' said the old man, looking in bewilderment about him.
He had so much the air of a half-witted person who had been hiding his money in a variety of places, and had forgotten where, that the Captain followed his eyes, not without a faint hope that he might remember some few hundred pounds concealed up the chimney, or down in the cellar. But Solomon Gills knew better than that.
'I'm behind the time altogether, my dear Ned,' said Sol, in resigned despair, 'a long way. It's no use my lagging on so far behind it. The stock had better be sold - it's worth more than this debt - and I had better go and die somewhere, on the balance. I haven't any energy left. I don't understand things. This had better be the end of it. Let 'em sell the stock and take him down,' said the old man, pointing feebly to the wooden Midshipman, 'and let us both be broken up together.'
'And what d'ye mean to do with Wal'r?'said the Captain. 'There, there! Sit ye down, Gills, sit ye down, and let me think o' this. If I warn't a man on a small annuity, that was large enough till to-day, I hadn't need to think of it. But you only lay your head well to the wind,' said the Captain, again administering that unanswerable piece of consolation, 'and you're all right!'
Old Sol thanked him from his heart, and went and laid it against the back parlour fire-place instead.
Captain Cuttle walked up and down the shop for some time, cogitating profoundly, and bringing his bushy black eyebrows to bear so heavily on his nose, like clouds setting on a mountain, that Walter was afraid to offer any interruption to the current of his reflections. Mr Brogley, who was averse to being any constraint upon the party, and who had an ingenious cast of mind, went, softly whistling, among the stock; rattling weather-glasses, shaking compasses as if they were physic, catching up keys with loadstones, looking through telescopes, endeavouring to make himself acquainted with the use of the globes, setting parallel rulers astride on to his nose, and amusing himself with other philosophical transactions.
'Wal'r!' said the Captain at last. 'I've got it.'
'Have you, Captain Cuttle?' cried Walter, with great animation.
'Come this way, my lad,' said the Captain. 'The stock's the security. I'm another. Your governor's the man to advance money.'
'Mr Dombey!' faltered Walter.
The Captain nodded gravely. 'Look at him,' he said. 'Look at Gills. If they was to sell off these things now, he'd die of it. You know he would. We mustn't leave a stone unturned - and there's a stone for you.'
'A stone! - Mr Dombey!' faltered Walter.
'You run round to the office, first of all, and see if he's there,' said Captain Cuttle, clapping him on the back. 'Quick!'
Walter felt he must not dispute the command - a glance at his Uncle would have determined him if he had felt otherwise - and disappeared to execute it. He soon returned, out of breath, to say that Mr Dombey was not there. It was Saturday, and he had gone to Brighton.
'I tell you what, Wal'r!' said the Captain, who seemed to have prepared himself for this contingency in his absence. 'We'll go to Brighton. I'll back you, my boy. I'll back you, Wal'r. We'll go to Brighton by the afternoon's coach.'
If the application must be made to Mr Dombey at all, which was awful to think of, Walter felt that he would rather prefer it alone and unassisted, than backed by the personal influence of Captain Cuttle, to which he hardly thought Mr Dombey would attach much weight. But as the Captain appeared to be of quite another opinion, and was bent upon it, and as his friendship was too zealous and serious to be trifled with by one so much younger than himself, he forbore to hint the least objection. Cuttle, therefore, taking a hurried leave of Solomon Gills, and returning the ready money, the teaspoons, the sugar-tongs, and the silver watch, to his pocket - with a view, as Walter thought, with horror, to making a gorgeous impression on Mr Dombey - bore him off to the coach-office, with- out a minute's delay, and repeatedly assured him, on the road, that he would stick by him to the last.

就年轻的沃尔特•盖伊的性格来说,他原本强烈地喜爱浪漫的情趣和向往奇异的事迹;在舅舅老所罗门•吉尔斯的监护下,严酷的生活经验的水流并没有把他的这种性格冲淡多少;这就是他对弗洛伦斯跟善良的布朗太太的奇遇兴致勃勃地怀着异乎寻常的兴趣的原因。他在记忆中纵容它,珍惜它,特别是与他有关的那一部分,后来它终于成了他想象中的一个惯坏了的孩子,可以自行其是,随心所欲了。
老所尔与卡特尔船长每个星期天聚会时都要做一次他们的美梦,这样一来,这些事情和他本人在其中的参与就更具有一种令人神魂颠倒的魅力。很少有哪一个星期天,这两位高尚的朋友中的这一位或那一位不神秘地提到理查德•惠廷顿的。卡特尔船长甚至还买了一本相当古老的叙事曲,它主要是反映海员们的思想感情的,它和许多其他的歌曲书籍一起,挂在商业路上的冷清的墙上,飘动着书页,已经好久了;这本诗歌作品叙述了一位有出息的给船上装煤的年轻人跟一位“可爱的佩格姑娘”之间求爱与结婚的故事;这位佩格姑娘是纽卡斯尔①一艘煤船的船长(他同时也是船主之一)的有才能的女儿,卡特尔船长从这个激动人心的传说中,看到它与沃尔特和弗洛伦斯的情况有一种意味深长的、形而上学的相似关系;它使他感到十分兴奋,每逢生日或其他非宗教节日的喜庆日子,他都会在小后客厅里放开嗓子,把这首歌从头到尾唱完。在唱到“佩——格”这个词的时候,他还发出了令人惊奇的颤音;每个诗句都是用这个赞美女主人公的词来结尾的。
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①纽卡斯尔(Newcastle):英国港市。
可是一位胸怀坦率、豁达大度、光明磊落的孩子并不很喜爱分析自己感情的性质,不论这种感情是多么强烈地支配着他;沃尔特要作出这样的判断也是困难的。他对他跟弗洛伦斯相遇的码头,对他们回家时经过的街道(虽然它们本身并没有令人销魂的地方)都怀着深厚的感情。他把那双在路上不时脱落的鞋子保存在他自己的房间里;有一天晚上他坐在小后客厅里,给想象中的善良的布朗太太画了肖像,画了整整一走廊。在那次值得纪念的事件发生以后,他的衣着也可能变得稍稍漂亮起来了;他在闲暇的时候,的确喜欢朝着董贝先生公馆坐落的那个市区走去,模模糊糊地希望在街上遇到小弗洛伦斯。可是所有这些思想感情都是孩子气的,天真烂漫的。弗洛伦斯是很漂亮的,爱慕漂亮的脸孔是件愉快的事情;弗洛伦斯是软弱无力,没有人保卫她的,想到他向她提供了保护与帮助是值得自豪的。弗洛伦斯是这世界上最感恩的小人儿,看到她脸上闪耀着热烈感激的光彩是使人高兴的。弗洛伦斯是被轻视和冷落的,他在心中对这位在她那沉闷、庄严的家中被看不起的孩子满怀着年轻人的兴趣。
沃尔特在街上脱下帽子向弗洛伦斯致意,弗洛伦斯则会停下来跟他握手,这样在一年当中发生过六、七次。威肯姆大嫂(她按照她悲观的性格来改变他的姓名,始终不变地把他叫做“年轻的格莱夫斯①”)知道他们相识的经历,对于这种情形已经十分习惯了,所以她对它丝毫也不注意。另一方面,尼珀姑娘是很盼望遇到这样的机会的,因为在她敏感的年轻的心灵中已对沃尔特英俊的外貌暗暗地产生了好感;她总爱相信,这种感情总是会得到回答的。
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①年轻的格莱夫斯(youngGraves):在英文中,Graves一词的意义是坟墓。
因此,沃尔特非但没有忘记他跟弗洛伦斯的相识或模糊了它的印象,相反地,他记得愈来愈清楚了。至于它那传奇性的开始以及那些给予它别具一格的特色与兴味的细微情节,与其说他把它看成是与他有关的事实的一部分,倒不如说他把它们看成是很合乎他想象、决不会从他脑子中消失的有趣故事。在他看来,这些情节突出地衬托出弗洛伦斯,而不是他自己。有时他想(这时候他就走得很快),如果在他们第一次相遇之后的第二天他出去航海,在海上创造出奇迹,长久离别后回来的时候成了一位海军上将,全身服装像海豚那样闪耀着各种色彩,或者至少成了一位邮船船长,佩戴着闪闪发光、令人承受不住的肩章,然后不顾董贝先生的牙齿、领带和表链,与弗洛伦斯结婚(那时候她是一位美丽的年轻女人了),得意洋洋地把她带到某个有着蓝色海岸的地方去,那该是件多么美妙的事啊!可是这些奔放的幻想并没有把董贝父子公司营业所的铜牌擦亮成为一块金色希望的牌子或把灿烂的光辉照射到他们的肮脏的天窗上;当卡特尔船长与所尔舅舅谈论理查德•惠廷顿和他主人的女儿时,沃尔特觉得,他对他自己在董贝父子公司中真正的地位要比他们明白得多。
所以他一天天继续兴致勃勃、不辞劳苦、欢乐愉快地做着他应该做的事情,清楚地看到所尔舅舅和卡特尔船长充满希望的脸色,然而他自己却怀着上千种模糊不清、虚无缥缈的幻想;跟他的这些幻想相比,他们的幻想倒还存在着一些实现的可能性。这就是弗洛伦斯陪伴保罗到皮普钦那里去那段时间中他的情况;这时候他看上去比过去岁数大了一些,但大得不多,仍然是一位走路轻快、无忧无虑、不多思索的小伙子,就像他过去有一天在所尔舅舅和想象中的攻入敌船的船员们的前面,冲进客厅里的时候,以及当他给所尔舅舅照明去取那瓶马德拉白葡萄酒的时候一样。
“所尔舅舅,”沃尔特说道,“我觉得你身体不大好,你没有吃早饭。如果你再这样下去的话,那么我将给你请一位医生来。”
“他不能给我所需要的东西,我的孩子,”所尔舅舅说道,“如果他能的话,那么他至少有很好的经验——但他毕竟是不能给的。”
“你指什么,舅舅?是指顾客吗?”
“是的,”所罗门叹了一口气,回答道。“顾客就行。”
“真见鬼,舅舅!”沃尔特把他的早餐杯子卡嗒一声放下,在桌子上敲了一拳,说道,“当我看到人们整天一群群在街上走来走去,每分钟都有几十个人经过这个店铺的时候,我真想冲出去,扭住一个人的领口,拉他到店里来,一定让他拿出现钱,购买值五十镑的仪器。喂,您在门口看什
么?——”沃尔特继续说道,一边向一位头上撒了白粉的老先生喊道(他当然听不见),那老先生正在聚精会神地注视着一架船上用的望远镜。“那没有用,我也能那样看,进来把它买去吧!”
可是那位老先生满足了好奇心之后,不声不响地走开了。
“他走了!”沃尔特说道。“他们全都是这样。可是,舅舅——我说,所尔舅舅”——因为老人正在沉思,没有回答他第一次对他的招呼——“别垂头丧气,别没精打采,舅舅。当订货真来的时候,它们会大批大批地来,那时候你都没办法去完成它们的呢。”
“不论它们什么时候来,我都能全部完成的,我的孩子,”所罗门•吉尔斯回答道。“在我没有离开店铺之前,它们永远也不会到这里来了。”
“我说,舅舅!你真不应该这么说,你知道!”沃尔特劝说道。“别那么说了!”
老所尔努力装出一副高兴的神色,向桌子对面的他尽量愉快地微笑着。
“没有发生跟往常不同的什么事吧,是不是,舅舅?”沃尔特把两只胳膊肘支在茶盘上,身子向前弯过去,更加亲密、更加亲切地说道:“别对我瞒什么,舅舅,如果发生了什么事情,那么请把一切都告诉我。”
“没有,没有,没有,”老所尔回答道。“跟往常有什么不同的事吗?没有,没有,会发生跟往常不同的什么事情呢?”
沃尔特表示不大相信地摇摇头,作为回答。“这就是我想要知道的,”他说道,“可是你却问我!我将告诉你,舅舅,当我看到你这种样子的时候,我就会因为跟你住在一起而感到十分遗憾。”
老所尔不自觉地张开了眼睛。
“是的,虽然没有什么人能比我现在更幸福,而且我跟你在一起一直是幸福的,可是每当我看到你有什么心事的时候,我就会因为和你住在一起而感到十分遗憾。”
“我知道,我在这种时候有些沉闷,”所罗门温和地搓着手,说道。
“我想要说的是,所尔舅舅,”沃尔特把身子往前再弯过去一点,好拍拍他的肩膀,“这种时候我就觉得你应当有一位和善的、矮小的、胖乎乎的妻子,而不是我跟你坐在一起,给你倒茶;你知道,——她是一位贤惠的、能使你感到愉快的、和你情投意合的老太太,跟你正好相配;她知道怎样照顾你,让你心情舒畅。可是现在却是我在这里;我是一个很爱你的外甥(我相信我应当是!),可是我只是一个外甥;当你闷闷不乐,心绪不佳的时候,我就不能成为像她那样几年前就知道怎么做的伴侣了,虽然我相信,如果我能使你高兴起来,那么要我拿出多少钱来我都是愿意的。所以我说,每当我看到你有什么心事,而除了像我这样一个常常出漏子的粗鲁小伙子外,你没有一个更好的人在身旁的时候,我就感到很遗憾。我倒有意安慰安慰你,舅舅,可是我不知道该怎么办才好——不知道怎么办才好。”沃尔特重复说了一句,一边把身子向前再弯过去一些,好和他的舅舅握握手。
“沃利,我亲爱的孩子,”所罗门说道,“如果那位和我情投意合的、矮小的老太太在四十五年前就在这客厅里占据了她的位置,那么我也决不会像我现在这样喜欢你一样地喜欢她的。”
“我知道这一点,所尔舅舅,”沃尔特回答道。“上帝保佑你,我知道这一点。可是如果她跟你在一起,那么你有了不好对外人说的不称心的事情,你就不会承担它的全部负担了,因为她知道怎样让你把它们解脱掉的,而我就不知道了。”
“不,不,你知道的!”仪器制造商回答道。
“唔,那么发生了什么事情了呢,所尔舅舅?”沃尔特哄骗地说道。“说吧!发生了什么事情?”
所罗门•吉尔斯坚持说,没有发生什么事情,而且态度坚决,毫不改变,所以他的外甥没有法子,只好不太高明地假装相信他。
“我只想说一点,所尔舅舅,如果发生了什么——”
“可是没有发生什么,”所罗门说道。
“很好,”沃尔特说道。“那我就再也没有什么要说的了;巧得很,因为现在是我该去上班的时候了。我路过这里的时候,会顺便来看你的,看看你过得怎么样,舅舅。记住,舅舅!如果我发现你欺骗了我,那么我就再也不相信你了,再也不跟你讲低级职员卡克先生的事情了!”
所罗门•吉尔斯大笑着否认他能发现这样的事情;沃尔特脑子里盘旋着各种不切实际的发财致富的办法,好使木制海军军官候补生处于独立的地位,一边露出比平时更沉重的神色,向董贝父子公司的营业所走去。
在那些日子里,在比晓普斯盖特街的拐角上住着一位布罗格利先生,他是一位有许可证的经纪人和估价人,开设了一个店铺,店铺里离奇古怪地摆放着各种各样的旧家具,摆放和组合的方式都跟这些家具的用途完全不相称。几十张椅子钩挂在脸盆架上;脸盆架为难地在餐具柜的两侧保持住重心,以免倒下;餐具柜又支立在餐桌的不是恰当的一边;这些餐桌像做体操似地用脚顶住另一些餐桌的桌面;这些就是这些家具的最合理的安排。由盘盖、酒杯、圆酒瓶组成的宴席餐具通常散放在四柱的床架上,供它们的亲朋好友(如三、四副火钳和过道里的一盏灯)来享用。没有任何窗子属于它们的窗帘悬挂着,成了一张塞满小药瓶的五屉柜的遮护物;一块无家可归的炉边地毯离开它天然的伴侣炉子,在逆境中英勇地抵抗着刺骨的东风,它浑身哆嗦着,那忧伤的情调与一架钢琴的尖声怨诉倒很一致;那钢琴一天损失一根弦,正在消瘦下去,它那吵吵闹闹、精神错乱的脑袋对街上的喧声正作出微弱的反响。至于那指针永远停在一个地方、不会走动的钟表,似乎像他过去的主人的金钱状况一样,已经不能正常地运转了;这种钟表在布罗格利先生的店中经常是很多的,可以随意挑选;还有各种各样的镜子有时摆放得能使反映与折射出的形象比原形增大几倍,它们送入眼睛来的永远是一片破产与没落的景象。
布罗格利先生本人的眼睛经常是水汪汪的,脸孔是粉红色的,头发卷曲,块头很大,性格随和——因为凯乌斯•马略这样一类人是能够精神振作地坐在其他民族的迦太基的废墟上的①。他有时曾顺道到所罗门的店里来看看,问一问所罗门所经营的仪器方面的问题;沃尔特跟他熟了,在街上遇见时总要向他寒暄问好,然而这位经纪人与所罗门•吉尔斯也仅仅熟悉到这样的程度罢了,所以当沃尔特那天午前信守诺言,回到家中,看见布罗格利先生坐在后客厅里,双手插在衣袋中,帽子挂在门后的时候,感到相当惊奇。
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①凯乌斯•马略(CaiusMarius,公元前157—86年),曾七次当选为古罗马的执政官,他指挥非洲的战争时,勇猛顽强,用兵如神。公元前88年,他被迫逃出罗马,历经艰险,逃到非洲,曾在迦太基的废墟中避难。迦太基(Carthage)为古代著名大城市之一,相传为腓尼基人于公元前814年所建,今为突尼斯市郊区。
“唔,所尔舅舅!”沃尔特说道。那老人正沮丧地坐在桌子的另一边,眼镜居然很难得地戴在眼睛前面,而不是架在前额上。“你现在好吗?”
所罗门摇摇头,一只手向经纪人挥了挥,作为介绍他。
“发生什么事情了吗?”沃尔特屏息地问道。
“没有,没有,没有发生什么事情,”布罗格利先生说道。
“您别为这忧虑。”
沃尔特沉默而惊奇地把眼光从经纪人身上转移到他舅舅身上。
“事情是,”布罗格利先生说道,“这里有一张没有支付的票据。三百七十多镑,已经过期了。现在票据在我手里。”
“在您手里!”沃尔特往店铺里环视了一下,喊道。
“是的,”布罗格利先生用一种讲机密话的语气说道,同时点点头,仿佛他想劝告大家,每个人都应当觉得自己很好。“这是执行一件该办的事。事情仅仅如此而已。你别为这忧虑。我亲自到这里来,是因为我想悄悄地、和和气气地把这件事情了结了。您知道我,完全是私下的,一点也没有声张。”
“所尔舅舅!”沃尔特结结巴巴地说道。
“沃利,我的孩子,”他的舅舅回答道。“这是第一次。我从前从没有遇到过这样的不幸。我太老了,没法从头开始了。”他把眼镜又推到额上去(因为它已不能再掩盖他的情绪了),用一只手捂住脸孔,大声抽泣着,眼泪掉落在他的咖啡色的背心上。
“所尔舅舅!啊!请别这样!”沃尔特高声喊道;他看到老人哭泣,确实感到一阵恐怖。“看在上帝的分上,别这样!
布罗格利先生,我该怎么办?”
“我想建议您去找位朋友,”布罗格利先生说道,“跟他谈谈这件事情。”
“完全正确!”沃尔特急忙抓住一切机会,喊道。“当然该这么办!谢谢您。卡特尔船长就是我们所需要的人,舅舅。等着我,等我跑去找卡特尔船长。布罗格利先生,当我不在家的时候,请您照看一下我的舅舅,尽量安慰安慰他,好吗?不要灰心丧气,所尔舅舅。努力振作起精神,这才是个男子汉!”
沃尔特热情洋溢地说完了这些话,不顾老人上句不接下句地劝阻,迅猛地又冲出了店铺;他急忙跑到办公室,借口他舅舅突然病了,请求准假,然后火速地向卡特尔船长的住所进发。
当他沿着街道跑过去的时候,一切似乎都已改变了。像往常一样,手推车、大车、公共汽车、运货马车和行人混杂在一起,熙熙攘攘,发出了各种闹声,可是落到木制海军军官候补生身上的不幸使它们变得古怪与新奇。房屋与店铺跟它们平日的样子不同,正面有很大的字母写着布格罗利先生的付款通知单。这位经纪人似乎把教堂也掌握在手中了,因为它们的尖顶以一种不同寻常的气概升入了天空;甚至天空本身也改变了,也明显地参与了这件事情的执行。
卡特尔船长住在靠近印度造船厂的小运河的岸边;那里有一座旋桥,它不时旋开,让一些如同漫游巨怪般的船舰像搁浅了的海中怪兽一样,沿着街道冲游过去。当走向卡特尔船长住所的时候,从陆地到水上的逐步变化是奇妙有趣的。开始时是一些作为客栈附属物的旗杆高高耸立着;然后是现成服装店,店外悬挂着耿济岛①的黑色厚毛线衫,海员用的防水帽以及最紧窄和最宽松的帆布裤子。接着是生产锚和锚链的铁工厂,长柄的大铁锤整天叮叮当当地抡打着铁块。再下去是一排排房屋,房屋附近种植的红豆中间竖立着顶上有小风信标的桅杆。接下去是水沟,然后是截去树梢的柳树。再下去是更多的水沟。然后是一片片奇怪的脏水,由于上面有船,很难辨认出来。再下去,空气中散发着刨花的气味。所有其他行业都被制作桅、桨和滑车的行业和造船业排挤掉了。往下去,土地变得像沼泽一样低湿、泥泞,很不牢固。再下去,除了朗姆酒和糖的气味外,再也闻不到别的气味了。再往下,卡特尔船长的住所就近在您的眼前了。他住在二层楼,那是布里格广场上最高的一层。
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①耿济岛(IsleofGuernsey):英国海峡中的一个岛。
船长是那些看去像木材的人们当中的一位,他们的衣服和身体好像是从一株橡树中一道砍削出来的,最活跃的想象力也几乎不可能把他们衣服中的任何一部分从身上分开,哪怕那是无关重要的一部分;因此,当沃尔特敲了门,船长立刻从他前面的小窗子当中的一个伸出头来招呼他的时候,他像平时一样,头上已经戴着那顶上了光的硬帽子,身上已经穿上那套蓝色的宽阔的外衣,还露出那像船帆一样的衬衫领子;沃尔特完全相信,他经常处于这种状态,仿佛船长是一只鸟,那些衣帽是他的羽毛似的。
“沃尔,我的孩子!”卡特尔船长说道。“做好准备,再敲一次。使劲敲,今天是洗衣服的日子。”
沃尔特急不可耐地用门环砰砰地猛敲着。
“很有劲!”卡特尔船长说道,然后立即把头缩了进去,仿佛他预料到一场夹带冰雹的暴风就要来临似的。
他没有错,因为一位寡居的太太以惊人的敏捷回答了这个召唤;她袖子卷到肩膀上,胳膊上沾满了肥皂泡,而且冒着雾腾腾的热气。她在看沃尔特之前先看了一下门环,然后用眼睛把他从头到脚打量了一下,说她很奇怪,门环居然还在门上,没有被他完全打落下来。
“就我所知,卡特尔船长在家里,”沃尔特和解地笑了一下,说道。
“他在家吗?”这位寡居的太太回答道。“原来——如此!”
“他刚才还跟我说话,”沃尔特急促地解释道。
“他跟您说话了吗?”寡居的太太回答道。“那么也许您可以向他转达麦克斯廷杰太太的敬意,告诉他,如果下一次要贬损他本人和他的住所的体面,从窗口对外讲话的话,那么就请他也下楼来开门,她将为此而感谢他。”麦克斯廷杰太太高声地说着,同时听听二层楼上对这会提出什么意见。
“夫人,”沃尔特说道,“如果您肯行个好,让我进去的话,那么我会对他说的。”
因为有一个木制的路障横放在门口,把他挡住了,那路障是为了防止小麦克斯廷杰在玩耍的时候,从台阶上滚下去而摆设在那里的。
“我希望,”麦克斯廷杰太太傲慢地说道,“一个能把我的门敲下的小子能够从这里跳过去。”可是当沃尔特以为这是允许他进去,因此跳了过去之后,麦克斯廷杰太太却立刻问道,一位英国妇女的家是不是她的堡垒?①它是不是可以容许“二流子”随意闯入?当沃尔特穿过洗衣服所形成的人造雾气(它使楼梯扶手粘粘糊糊,像出了汗似的),进到卡特尔船长的房间,看到这位先生正在门后埋伏着的时候,她仍纠缠不休地渴望在这两个问题上得到回答。
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①“一位英国男子的家是他的堡垒”(AnEnglishman′shouseishiscastle.)是英国法学家爱德华•科克爵士(SirEdwardCoke,1552—1634年,曾任民事法院的首席法官)在他的著作《英国法总论》(InstitutesoftheLawsofEngland)中所说的一句话,意为一位英国男子在他家中就处于法律威力所及的范围之外。麦克斯廷杰太太的问话就是从这句话引伸出来的。
“我从来不欠她一个便士,沃尔,”船长轻声说道,脸上仍明显地流露出恐怖的神色。“我对她和她的小孩子们做了许许多多的好事。可是有时她还是蛮不讲理。嘘!”
“我就要离开这里,卡特尔船长,”沃尔特说道。“别走,沃尔,”船长回答道。“我不论走到哪里,她都会把我找到的。请坐。吉尔斯好吗?”
船长戴着帽子,正在吃午饭:冷的羊腰子、黑啤酒和几个冒着热气的土豆。土豆是他自己煮的,他需要吃的时候,就从火炉前面的一只有柄的小平底锅中取出。吃饭的时候,他解下钩子,把一把小刀插进木制的插口里;他已经用这把小刀开始为沃尔特把一个土豆的皮剥去了。他的房间很小,充满了浓烈的吸烟草散发出的气味,但却十分温暖舒适。所有的东西都收藏了起来,仿佛这里每隔半小时就要发生一次地震似的。
“吉尔斯好吗?”船长问道。
沃尔特这时已经缓过气来,但却丧失了情绪——或者可以说是丧失了一种由于急速赶路而暂时振奋起来的情绪。他向问他的人望了一会儿,说道,“啊,卡特尔船长!”然后,就流出了眼泪。船长看到这种情景时的惊恐是不能用言语形容的。面对着这种情形,麦克斯廷杰太太已完全消失了。土豆和叉子从他手中掉下——如果可能的话,小刀也会掉下的——,他坐在那里凝视着这个孩子,仿佛他预料立刻就会听到,城里的土地已经裂开一个深坑,它已经把他的老朋友、他的咖啡色外衣、钮扣、精密计时表、眼镜以及一切都吞没了。
但是当沃尔特把事实真相告诉他之后,卡特尔船长沉思了片刻,就立刻非常活跃地行动起来。他从碗柜顶层隔板上的一个小锡罐中倒出他存有的全部现钱(总共是十三镑零半个克朗①),并把它们装进他的宽大的蓝色上衣的一个口袋中,接着他又把餐具箱子中所存有的东西充实到这个储藏所中。餐具箱子中所存有的是两只干瘪的、不像原形的茶匙和一副旧式的弯曲的方糖箱子。他又把他那只很大的、有双层外壳的银表从它安息的深处拉了出来,以便确信这个珍贵的物品完好无损;然后他把钩子重新拧紧到右腕上,拿起那根有好多节的手杖,嘱咐沃尔特动身。
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①克朗:旧时英国的硬币,一克朗等于五先令。
可是他在这种由于道德高尚而激发的兴奋中仍然记得,麦克斯廷杰太太可能在下面等待着,所以卡特尔船长最后犹豫起来,甚至还往窗子看了一眼,仿佛他脑子里闪出这样的念头:宁可从这个不寻常的出口逃走,也不要碰见他那个可怕的敌人;可是他决定采用计谋。
“沃尔,”船长胆怯地眨眨眼睛,说道,“你先走,我的孩子。当你走到走廊里的时候,你就大声喊道,‘再见,卡特尔船长,’再把门关上。然后你在街道拐角里等着我,直到我们见面为止。”
这些指示是预先知道敌人的策略才发出的,因为当沃尔特走下楼的时候,麦克斯廷杰太太像一个复仇的妖魔一样,从后面的小厨房中悄悄地溜了出来,但是没有像她原先期望的那样碰上船长,她只是再一次暗示了一下门环的事,就又悄悄地溜回厨房里去了。
大约过了五分钟光景,卡特尔船长才鼓起勇气来设法逃走;因为沃尔特在街道拐角等了好久,一直回头看看那座房屋,但却没有看到那顶上了光的硬帽子的任何影子。终于,船长像爆炸一样突然地冲出到门外,大步地向他走来,一次也没有回头去看;当他们一离开这条街的时候,他就假装吹口哨。
“舅舅的情绪很低沉吧,沃尔?”他们向前走去的时候,船长问道。
“我担心是这样。如果您今天早上看到他的话,那么您将永远忘不了他的那副神情。”
“快些走,沃尔,我的孩子,”船长加快步伐,回答道,“你这一辈子永远用这同样的步子走路。请查一下《教义问答》,并记住这句忠告。”
船长心中只顾想到所罗门•吉尔斯,也许也夹杂着他刚刚从麦克斯廷杰太太那里逃出来的回忆,所以没有再引用其他的话来帮助沃尔特来进一步完善他的德行。在他们到达老所尔的家门口之前,他们没有交谈其他的话;不幸的木制海军军官候补生手里拿着仪器在老所尔家的门口似乎正在向地平线眺望着,想要找一位朋友来帮助他摆脱困境。
“吉尔斯!”船长急忙跑到后客厅里,十分亲切地握着他的手。“昂起头来迎着风,我们将会战胜它。”船长像一个正在传达人类智慧所发现的最为宝贵、最切合实际的教义的人那样庄严地说道。“你应该做的一切,就是昂起头来迎着风,我们将会战胜它!”
老所尔紧紧地握着他的手,并且谢谢他。
然后卡特尔船长以在这种场合适宜的庄重的神态,在桌子上放下那两只茶匙,那副方糖箝子,那只银表和现钱,同时问经纪人布罗格利先生,需要偿付多少钱。
“听着,您看这些怎么样?”卡特尔船长问道。
“啊,上帝保佑您!”经纪人回答道;“难道您以为那些财产有什么用处吗?”
“为什么没有用处?”船长问道。
“为什么?总共是三百七十多镑,”经纪人回答道。
“不要紧,”船长回答道,虽然这个数字显然使他吃惊,“我想,跑进您网里来的都是鱼吧?”
“当然,”布罗格利先生说道。“但是您知道,西鲱鱼并不是鲸鱼。”
这句话的哲理似乎击中了船长。他沉思了一会儿;同时目不转睛地看着经纪人,像是在看一位思想深奥的天才似的。
然后他把仪器制造商叫到一旁。
“吉尔斯,”卡特尔船长说道,“这是什么样的一笔债务?
债权人是谁?”
“说轻一些!”老人回答道。“我们走开一些,别当着沃利的面说。这是为了给沃利的父亲担保而发生的事情。——一笔老债务。我已经偿付了好多,内德,可是我的日子过得很艰难,目前我不能再做什么了。我预见到这件事,可是我无能为力。无论如何,在沃利面前一句话也别说。”
“你有•一•些钱吧,是不是?”船长低声问道。
“是的,是的,——啊,是的。——我有一些,”老所尔回答道;他首先把手伸进两只空空的衣袋,然后用它们紧紧挤着他的威尔士假发,仿佛他以为他可以从那里挤出一些金子似的。“但是我,——我有一点钱是不能兑换成现钱的,内德;它是不能立刻拿来用的。我一直在想用它来给沃利做点什么事。可是我已过时了,落在时代后面了。这里那里都是钱,但同时——同时,总之,实际上等于什么地方都没有钱。”
老人手足无措地看着四周,说道。
他那样子很像是个神志恍惚的人,把钱藏在许多地方,但却忘记藏在哪里了,所以船长跟随着他的眼光,心里怀着一丝微弱的希望,也许他会记起来在上面的烟囱里或在下面的地窖里隐藏着几百镑。可是所罗门•吉尔斯心里很清楚,这是决不会发生的事情。
“我完全落在时代后面了,我亲爱的内德,”所尔万念俱灰地说道,“落后得很远了。我这样远远地落在它的后面是没有什么用处的。这些货物最好是卖掉——它的价值超过这笔债务——我最好是到一个什么地方去,死掉算了。我已经没有什么精力了。我不明白发生的事情,最好是让这告一结束。让他们把这些货物卖掉,并把他卸下来,”老人有气无力地指着木制海军军官候补生,说道,“让我们一起完蛋吧。”
“对沃尔特你打算怎么办呢?”船长问道。“好啦,好啦!请坐下,吉尔斯,请坐下,让我想一想这件事。如果我不是一位靠菲薄的年全过活的人(这年金要是积攒到今天将会是够大的一笔数字了),那么我现在就用不着想了。可是你只要昂起头来迎着风,”船长重新用这句无可辩驳的话来安慰他,“那么你就会一切都好的!”
老所尔由衷地感谢他,但他并没有昂起头来迎着风,而是走去把头靠在后客厅的壁炉上。
卡特尔船长在店铺里走来走去走了一些时候,深深地思考着,浓密的黑眉毛十分阴沉地低垂着,就像乌云笼罩在山峰上一样,因此沃尔特不敢去打断他的思路。布罗格利先生不愿意让这几个人过于紧张不安,同时他又是个足智多谋的人,所以就轻轻吹着口哨,在货物中间走来走去;他轻轻地敲敲睛雨表,又摇摇罗盘,仿佛这些罗盘是药水瓶似的;接着他又拿起带有天然磁石的钥匙,从望远镜里往外看,设法熟悉地球仪的用途,把平行规尺骑在鼻子上,又进行其他一些物理试验来开心取乐。
“沃尔!”船长终于说道。“我想到了!”
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 10
Containing the Sequel of the Midshipman's Disaster
Major Bagstock, after long and frequent observation of Paul, across Princess's Place, through his double-barrelled opera-glass; and after receiving many minute reports, daily, weekly, and monthly, on that subject, from the native who kept himself in constant communication with Miss Tox's maid for that purpose; came to the conclusion that Dombey, Sir, was a man to be known, and that J. B. was the boy to make his acquaintance.
Miss Tox, however, maintaining her reserved behaviour, and frigidly declining to understand the Major whenever he called (which he often did) on any little fishing excursion connected with this project, the Major, in spite of his constitutional toughness and slyness, was fain to leave the accomplishment of his desire in some measure to chance, 'which,' as he was used to observe with chuckles at his club, 'has been fifty to one in favour of Joey B., Sir, ever since his elder brother died of Yellow Jack in the West Indies.'
It was some time coming to his aid in the present instance, but it befriended him at last. When the dark servant, with full particulars, reported Miss Tox absent on Brighton service, the Major was suddenly touched with affectionate reminiscences of his friend Bill Bitherstone of Bengal, who had written to ask him, if he ever went that way, to bestow a call upon his only son. But when the same dark servant reported Paul at Mrs Pipchin's, and the Major, referring to the letter favoured by Master Bitherstone on his arrival in England - to which he had never had the least idea of paying any attention - saw the opening that presented itself, he was made so rabid by the gout, with which he happened to be then laid up, that he threw a footstool at the dark servant in return for his intelligence, and swore he would be the death of the rascal before he had done with him: which the dark servant was more than half disposed to believe.
At length the Major being released from his fit, went one Saturday growling down to Brighton, with the native behind him; apostrophizing Miss Tox all the way, and gloating over the prospect of carrying by storm the distinguished friend to whom she attached so much mystery, and for whom she had deserted him,
'Would you, Ma'am, would you!' said the Major, straining with vindictiveness, and swelling every already swollen vein in his head. 'Would you give Joey B. the go-by, Ma'am? Not yet, Ma'am, not yet! Damme, not yet, Sir. Joe is awake, Ma'am. Bagstock is alive, Sir. J. B. knows a move or two, Ma'am. Josh has his weather-eye open, Sir. You'll find him tough, Ma'am. Tough, Sir, tough is Joseph. Tough, and de-vilish sly!'
And very tough indeed Master Bitherstone found him, when he took that young gentleman out for a walk. But the Major, with his complexion like a Stilton cheese, and his eyes like a prawn's, went roving about, perfectly indifferent to Master Bitherstone's amusement, and dragging Master Bitherstone along, while he looked about him high and low, for Mr Dombey and his children.
In good time the Major, previously instructed by Mrs Pipchin, spied out Paul and Florence, and bore down upon them; there being a stately gentleman (Mr Dombey, doubtless) in their company. Charging with Master Bitherstone into the very heart of the little squadron, it fell out, of course, that Master Bitherstone spoke to his fellow-sufferers. Upon that the Major stopped to notice and admire them; remembered with amazement that he had seen and spoken to them at his friend Miss Tox's in Princess's Place; opined that Paul was a devilish fine fellow, and his own little friend; inquired if he remembered Joey B. the Major; and finally, with a sudden recollection of the conventionalities of life, turned and apologised to Mr Dombey.
'But my little friend here, Sir,' said the Major, 'makes a boy of me again: An old soldier, Sir - Major Bagstock, at your service - is not ashamed to confess it.' Here the Major lifted his hat. 'Damme, Sir,' cried the Major with sudden warmth, 'I envy you.' Then he recollected himself, and added, 'Excuse my freedom.'
Mr Dombey begged he wouldn't mention it.
'An old campaigner, Sir,' said the Major, 'a smoke-dried, sun-burnt, used-up, invalided old dog of a Major, Sir, was not afraid of being condemned for his whim by a man like Mr Dombey. I have the honour of addressing Mr Dombey, I believe?'
'I am the present unworthy representative of that name, Major,' returned Mr Dombey.
'By G-, Sir!' said the Major, 'it's a great name. It's a name, Sir,' said the Major firmly, as if he defied Mr Dombey to contradict him, and would feel it his painful duty to bully him if he did, 'that is known and honoured in the British possessions abroad. It is a name, Sir, that a man is proud to recognise. There is nothing adulatory in Joseph Bagstock, Sir. His Royal Highness the Duke of York observed on more than one occasion, "there is no adulation in Joey. He is a plain old soldier is Joe. He is tough to a fault is Joseph:" but it's a great name, Sir. By the Lord, it's a great name!' said the Major, solemnly.
'You are good enough to rate it higher than it deserves, perhaps, Major,' returned Mr Dombey.
'No, Sir,' said the Major, in a severe tone. No, Mr Dombey, let us understand each other. That is not the Bagstock vein, Sir. You don't know Joseph B. He is a blunt old blade is Josh. No flattery in him, Sir. Nothing like it.'
Mr Dombey inclined his head, and said he believed him to be in earnest, and that his high opinion was gratifying.
'My little friend here, Sir,' croaked the Major, looking as amiably as he could, on Paul, 'will certify for Joseph Bagstock that he is a thorough-going, down-right, plain-spoken, old Trump, Sir, and nothing more. That boy, Sir,' said the Major in a lower tone, 'will live in history. That boy, Sir, is not a common production. Take care of him, Mr Dombey.'
Mr Dombey seemed to intimate that he would endeavour to do so.
'Here is a boy here, Sir,' pursued the Major, confidentially, and giving him a thrust with his cane. 'Son of Bitherstone of Bengal. Bill Bitherstone formerly of ours. That boy's father and myself, Sir, were sworn friends. Wherever you went, Sir, you heard of nothing but Bill Bitherstone and Joe Bagstock. Am I blind to that boy's defects? By no means. He's a fool, Sir.'
Mr Dombey glanced at the libelled Master Bitherstone, of whom he knew at least as much as the Major did, and said, in quite a complacent manner, 'Really?'
'That is what he is, sir,' said the Major. 'He's a fool. Joe Bagstock never minces matters. The son of my old friend Bill Bitherstone, of Bengal, is a born fool, Sir.' Here the Major laughed till he was almost black. 'My little friend is destined for a public school,' I' presume, Mr Dombey?' said the Major when he had recovered.
'I am not quite decided,' returned Mr Dombey. 'I think not. He is delicate.'
'If he's delicate, Sir,' said the Major, 'you are right. None but the tough fellows could live through it, Sir, at Sandhurst. We put each other to the torture there, Sir. We roasted the new fellows at a slow fire, and hung 'em out of a three pair of stairs window, with their heads downwards. Joseph Bagstock, Sir, was held out of the window by the heels of his boots, for thirteen minutes by the college clock'
The Major might have appealed to his countenance in corroboration of this story. It certainly looked as if he had hung out a little too long.
'But it made us what we were, Sir,' said the Major, settling his shirt frill. 'We were iron, Sir, and it forged us. Are you remaining here, Mr Dombey?'
'I generally come down once a week, Major,' returned that gentleman. 'I stay at the Bedford.'
'I shall have the honour of calling at the Bedford, Sir, if you'll permit me,' said the Major. 'Joey B., Sir, is not in general a calling man, but Mr Dombey's is not a common name. I am much indebted to my little friend, Sir, for the honour of this introduction.'
Mr Dombey made a very gracious reply; and Major Bagstock, having patted Paul on the head, and said of Florence that her eyes would play the Devil with the youngsters before long - 'and the oldsters too, Sir, if you come to that,' added the Major, chuckling very much - stirred up Master Bitherstone with his walking-stick, and departed with that young gentleman, at a kind of half-trot; rolling his head and coughing with great dignity, as he staggered away, with his legs very wide asunder.
In fulfilment of his promise, the Major afterwards called on Mr Dombey; and Mr Dombey, having referred to the army list, afterwards called on the Major. Then the Major called at Mr Dombey's house in town; and came down again, in the same coach as Mr Dombey. In short, Mr Dombey and the Major got on uncommonly well together, and uncommonly fast: and Mr Dombey observed of the Major, to his sister, that besides being quite a military man he was really something more, as he had a very admirable idea of the importance of things unconnected with his own profession.
At length Mr Dombey, bringing down Miss Tox and Mrs Chick to see the children, and finding the Major again at Brighton, invited him to dinner at the Bedford, and complimented Miss Tox highly, beforehand, on her neighbour and acquaintance.
'My dearest Louisa,' said Miss Tox to Mrs Chick, when they were alone together, on the morning of the appointed day, 'if I should seem at all reserved to Major Bagstock, or under any constraint with him, promise me not to notice it.'
'My dear Lucretia,' returned Mrs Chick, 'what mystery is involved in this remarkable request? I must insist upon knowing.'
'Since you are resolved to extort a confession from me, Louisa,' said Miss Tox instantly, 'I have no alternative but to confide to you that the Major has been particular.'
'Particular!' repeated Mrs Chick.
'The Major has long been very particular indeed, my love, in his attentions,' said Miss Tox, 'occasionally they have been so very marked, that my position has been one of no common difficulty.'
'Is he in good circumstances?' inquired Mrs Chick.
'I have every reason to believe, my dear - indeed I may say I know,' returned Miss Tox, 'that he is wealthy. He is truly military, and full of anecdote. I have been informed that his valour, when he was in active service, knew no bounds. I am told that he did all sorts of things in the Peninsula, with every description of fire-arm; and in the East and West Indies, my love, I really couldn't undertake to say what he did not do.'
'Very creditable to him indeed,' said Mrs Chick, 'extremely so; and you have given him no encouragement, my dear?'
'If I were to say, Louisa,' replied Miss Tox, with every demonstration of making an effort that rent her soul, 'that I never encouraged Major Bagstock slightly, I should not do justice to the friendship which exists between you and me. It is, perhaps, hardly in the nature of woman to receive such attentions as the Major once lavished upon myself without betraying some sense of obligation. But that is past - long past. Between the Major and me there is now a yawning chasm, and I will not feign to give encouragement, Louisa, where I cannot give my heart. My affections,' said Miss Tox - 'but, Louisa, this is madness!' and departed from the room.
All this Mrs Chick communicated to her brother before dinner: and it by no means indisposed Mr Dombey to receive the Major with unwonted cordiality. The Major, for his part, was in a state of plethoric satisfaction that knew no bounds: and he coughed, and choked, and chuckled, and gasped, and swelled, until the waiters seemed positively afraid of him.
'Your family monopolises Joe's light, Sir,' said the Major, when he had saluted Miss Tox. 'Joe lives in darkness. Princess's Place is changed into Kamschatka in the winter time. There is no ray of sun, Sir, for Joey B., now.'
'Miss Tox is good enough to take a great deal of interest in Paul, Major,' returned Mr Dombey on behalf of that blushing virgin.
'Damme Sir,' said the Major, 'I'm jealous of my little friend. I'm pining away Sir. The Bagstock breed is degenerating in the forsaken person of old Joe.' And the Major, becoming bluer and bluer and puffing his cheeks further and further over the stiff ridge of his tight cravat, stared at Miss Tox, until his eyes seemed as if he were at that moment being overdone before the slow fire at the military college.
Notwithstanding the palpitation of the heart which these allusions occasioned her, they were anything but disagreeable to Miss Tox, as they enabled her to be extremely interesting, and to manifest an occasional incoherence and distraction which she was not at all unwilling to display. The Major gave her abundant opportunities of exhibiting this emotion: being profuse in his complaints, at dinner, of her desertion of him and Princess's Place: and as he appeared to derive great enjoyment from making them, they all got on very well.
None the worse on account of the Major taking charge of the whole conversation, and showing as great an appetite in that respect as in regard of the various dainties on the table, among which he may be almost said to have wallowed: greatly to the aggravation of his inflammatory tendencies. Mr Dombey's habitual silence and reserve yielding readily to this usurpation, the Major felt that he was coming out and shining: and in the flow of spirits thus engendered, rang such an infinite number of new changes on his own name that he quite astonished himself. In a word, they were all very well pleased. The Major was considered to possess an inexhaustible fund of conversation; and when he took a late farewell, after a long rubber, Mr Dombey again complimented the blushing Miss Tox on her neighbour and acquaintance.
But all the way home to his own hotel, the Major incessantly said to himself, and of himself, 'Sly, Sir - sly, Sir - de-vil-ish sly!' And when he got there, sat down in a chair, and fell into a silent fit of laughter, with which he was sometimes seized, and which was always particularly awful. It held him so long on this occasion that the dark servant, who stood watching him at a distance, but dared not for his life approach, twice or thrice gave him over for lost. His whole form, but especially his face and head, dilated beyond all former experience; and presented to the dark man's view, nothing but a heaving mass of indigo. At length he burst into a violent paroxysm of coughing, and when that was a little better burst into such ejaculations as the following:
'Would you, Ma'am, would you? Mrs Dombey, eh, Ma'am? I think not, Ma'am. Not while Joe B. can put a spoke in your wheel, Ma'am. J. B.'s even with you now, Ma'am. He isn't altogether bowled out, yet, Sir, isn't Bagstock. She's deep, Sir, deep, but Josh is deeper. Wide awake is old Joe - broad awake, and staring, Sir!' There was no doubt of this last assertion being true, and to a very fearful extent; as it continued to be during the greater part of that night, which the Major chiefly passed in similar exclamations, diversified with fits of coughing and choking that startled the whole house.
It was on the day after this occasion (being Sunday) when, as Mr Dombey, Mrs Chick, and Miss Tox were sitting at breakfast, still eulogising the Major, Florence came running in: her face suffused with a bright colour, and her eyes sparkling joyfully: and cried,
'Papa! Papa! Here's Walter! and he won't come in.'
'Who?' cried Mr Dombey. 'What does she mean? What is this?'
'Walter, Papa!' said Florence timidly; sensible of having approached the presence with too much familiarity. 'Who found me when I was lost.'
'Does she mean young Gay, Louisa?' inquired Mr Dombey, knitting his brows. 'Really, this child's manners have become very boisterous. She cannot mean young Gay, I think. See what it is, will you?'
Mrs Chick hurried into the passage, and returned with the information that it was young Gay, accompanied by a very strange-looking person; and that young Gay said he would not take the liberty of coming in, hearing Mr Dombey was at breakfast, but would wait until Mr Dombey should signify that he might approach.
'Tell the boy to come in now,' said Mr Dombey. 'Now, Gay, what is the matter? Who sent you down here? Was there nobody else to come?'
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' returned Walter. 'I have not been sent. I have been so bold as to come on my own account, which I hope you'll pardon when I mention the cause.
But Mr Dombey, without attending to what he said, was looking impatiently on either side of him (as if he were a pillar in his way) at some object behind.
'What's that?' said Mr Dombey. 'Who is that? I think you have made some mistake in the door, Sir.'
'Oh, I'm very sorry to intrude with anyone, Sir,' cried Walter, hastily: 'but this is - this is Captain Cuttle, Sir.'
'Wal'r, my lad,' observed the Captain in a deep voice: 'stand by!'
At the same time the Captain, coming a little further in, brought out his wide suit of blue, his conspicuous shirt-collar, and his knobby nose in full relief, and stood bowing to Mr Dombey, and waving his hook politely to the ladies, with the hard glazed hat in his one hand, and a red equator round his head which it had newly imprinted there.
Mr Dombey regarded this phenomenon with amazement and indignation, and seemed by his looks to appeal to Mrs Chick and Miss Tox against it. Little Paul, who had come in after Florence, backed towards Miss Tox as the Captain waved his book, and stood on the defensive.
'Now, Gay,' said Mr Dombey. 'What have you got to say to me?'
Again the Captain observed, as a general opening of the conversation that could not fail to propitiate all parties, 'Wal'r, standby!'
'I am afraid, Sir,' began Walter, trembling, and looking down at the ground, 'that I take a very great liberty in coming - indeed, I am sure I do. I should hardly have had the courage to ask to see you, Sir, even after coming down, I am afraid, if I had not overtaken Miss Dombey, and - '
'Well!' said Mr Dombey, following his eyes as he glanced at the attentive Florence, and frowning unconsciously as she encouraged him with a smile. 'Go on, if you please.'
'Ay, ay,' observed the Captain, considering it incumbent on him, as a point of good breeding, to support Mr Dombey. 'Well said! Go on, Wal'r.'
Captain Cuttle ought to have been withered by the look which Mr Dombey bestowed upon him in acknowledgment of his patronage. But quite innocent of this, he closed one eye in reply, and gave Mr Dombey to understand, by certain significant motions of his hook, that Walter was a little bashful at first, and might be expected to come out shortly.
'It is entirely a private and personal matter, that has brought me here, Sir,' continued Walter, faltering, 'and Captain Cuttle
'Here!' interposed the Captain, as an assurance that he was at hand, and might be relied upon.
'Who is a very old friend of my poor Uncle's, and a most excellent man, Sir,' pursued Walter, raising his eyes with a look of entreaty in the Captain's behalf, 'was so good as to offer to come with me, which I could hardly refuse.'
'No, no, no;' observed the Captain complacently. 'Of course not. No call for refusing. Go on, Wal'r.'
'And therefore, Sir,' said Walter, venturing to meet Mr Dombey's eye, and proceeding with better courage in the very desperation of the case, now that there was no avoiding it, 'therefore I have come, with him, Sir, to say that my poor old Uncle is in very great affliction and distress. That, through the gradual loss of his business, and not being able to make a payment, the apprehension of which has weighed very heavily upon his mind, months and months, as indeed I know, Sir, he has an execution in his house, and is in danger of losing all he has, and breaking his heart. And that if you would, in your kindness, and in your old knowledge of him as a respectable man, do anything to help him out of his difficulty, Sir, we never could thank you enough for it.'
Walter's eyes filled with tears as he spoke; and so did those of Florence. Her father saw them glistening, though he appeared to look at Walter only.
'It is a very large sum, Sir,' said Walter. 'More than three hundred pounds. My Uncle is quite beaten down by his misfortune, it lies so heavy on him; and is quite unable to do anything for his own relief. He doesn't even know yet, that I have come to speak to you. You would wish me to say, Sir,' added Walter, after a moment's hesitation, 'exactly what it is I want. I really don't know, Sir. There is my Uncle's stock, on which I believe I may say, confidently, there are no other demands, and there is Captain Cuttle, who would wish to be security too. I - I hardly like to mention,' said Walter, 'such earnings as mine; but if you would allow them - accumulate - payment - advance - Uncle - frugal, honourable, old man.' Walter trailed off, through these broken sentences, into silence: and stood with downcast head, before his employer.
Considering this a favourable moment for the display of the valuables, Captain Cuttle advanced to the table; and clearing a space among the breakfast-cups at Mr Dombey's elbow, produced the silver watch, the ready money, the teaspoons, and the sugar-tongs; and piling them up into a heap that they might look as precious as possible, delivered himself of these words:
'Half a loaf's better than no bread, and the same remark holds good with crumbs. There's a few. Annuity of one hundred pound premium also ready to be made over. If there is a man chock full of science in the world, it's old Sol Gills. If there is a lad of promise - one flowing,' added the Captain, in one of his happy quotations, 'with milk and honey - it's his nevy!'
The Captain then withdrew to his former place, where he stood arranging his scattered locks with the air of a man who had given the finishing touch to a difficult performance.
When Walter ceased to speak, Mr Dombey's eyes were attracted to little Paul, who, seeing his sister hanging down her head and silently weeping in her commiseration for the distress she had heard described, went over to her, and tried to comfort her: looking at Walter and his father as he did so, with a very expressive face. After the momentary distraction of Captain Cuttle's address, which he regarded with lofty indifference, Mr Dombey again turned his eyes upon his son, and sat steadily regarding the child, for some moments, in silence.
'What was this debt contracted for?' asked Mr Dombey, at length. 'Who is the creditor?'
'He don't know,' replied the Captain, putting his hand on Walter's shoulder. 'I do. It came of helping a man that's dead now, and that's cost my friend Gills many a hundred pound already. More particulars in private, if agreeable.'
'People who have enough to do to hold their own way,' said Mr Dombey, unobservant of the Captain's mysterious signs behind Walter, and still looking at his son, 'had better be content with their own obligations and difficulties, and not increase them by engaging for other men. It is an act of dishonesty and presumption, too,' said Mr Dombey, sternly; 'great presumption; for the wealthy could do no more. Paul, come here!'
The child obeyed: and Mr Dombey took him on his knee.
'If you had money now - ' said Mr Dombey. 'Look at me!'
Paul, whose eyes had wandered to his sister, and to Walter, looked his father in the face.
'If you had money now,' said Mr Dombey; 'as much money as young Gay has talked about; what would you do?'
'Give it to his old Uncle,' returned Paul.
'Lend it to his old Uncle, eh?' retorted Mr Dombey. 'Well! When you are old enough, you know, you will share my money, and we shall use it together.'
'Dombey and Son,' interrupted Paul, who had been tutored early in the phrase.
'Dombey and Son,' repeated his father. 'Would you like to begin to be Dombey and Son, now, and lend this money to young Gay's Uncle?'
'Oh! if you please, Papa!' said Paul: 'and so would Florence.'
'Girls,' said Mr Dombey, 'have nothing to do with Dombey and Son. Would you like it?'
'Yes, Papa, yes!'
'Then you shall do it,' returned his father. 'And you see, Paul,' he added, dropping his voice, 'how powerful money is, and how anxious people are to get it. Young Gay comes all this way to beg for money, and you, who are so grand and great, having got it, are going to let him have it, as a great favour and obligation.'
Paul turned up the old face for a moment, in which there was a sharp understanding of the reference conveyed in these words: but it was a young and childish face immediately afterwards, when he slipped down from his father's knee, and ran to tell Florence not to cry any more, for he was going to let young Gay have the money.
Mr Dombey then turned to a side-table, and wrote a note and sealed it. During the interval, Paul and Florence whispered to Walter, and Captain Cuttle beamed on the three, with such aspiring and ineffably presumptuous thoughts as Mr Dombey never could have believed in. The note being finished, Mr Dombey turned round to his former place, and held it out to Walter.
'Give that,' he said, 'the first thing to-morrow morning, to Mr Carker. He will immediately take care that one of my people releases your Uncle from his present position, by paying the amount at issue; and that such arrangements are made for its repayment as may be consistent with your Uncle's circumstances. You will consider that this is done for you by Master Paul.'
Walter, in the emotion of holding in his hand the means of releasing his good Uncle from his trouble, would have endeavoured to express something of his gratitude and joy. But Mr Dombey stopped him short.
'You will consider that it is done,' he repeated, 'by Master Paul. I have explained that to him, and he understands it. I wish no more to be said.'
As he motioned towards the door, Walter could only bow his head and retire. Miss Tox, seeing that the Captain appeared about to do the same, interposed.
'My dear Sir,' she said, addressing Mr Dombey, at whose munificence both she and Mrs Chick were shedding tears copiously; 'I think you have overlooked something. Pardon me, Mr Dombey, I think, in the nobility of your character, and its exalted scope, you have omitted a matter of detail.'
'Indeed, Miss Tox!' said Mr Dombey.
'The gentleman with the - Instrument,' pursued Miss Tox, glancing at Captain Cuttle, 'has left upon the table, at your elbow - '
'Good Heaven!' said Mr Dombey, sweeping the Captain's property from him, as if it were so much crumb indeed. 'Take these things away. I am obliged to you, Miss Tox; it is like your usual discretion. Have the goodness to take these things away, Sir!'
Captain Cuttle felt he had no alternative but to comply. But he was so much struck by the magnanimity of Mr Dombey, in refusing treasures lying heaped up to his hand, that when he had deposited the teaspoons and sugar-tongs in one pocket, and the ready money in another, and had lowered the great watch down slowly into its proper vault, he could not refrain from seizing that gentleman's right hand in his own solitary left, and while he held it open with his powerful fingers, bringing the hook down upon its palm in a transport of admiration. At this touch of warm feeling and cold iron, Mr Dombey shivered all over.
Captain Cuttle then kissed his hook to the ladies several times, with great elegance and gallantry; and having taken a particular leave of Paul and Florence, accompanied Walter out of the room. Florence was running after them in the earnestness of her heart, to send some message to old Sol, when Mr Dombey called her back, and bade her stay where she was.
'Will you never be a Dombey, my dear child!' said Mrs Chick, with pathetic reproachfulness.
'Dear aunt,' said Florence. 'Don't be angry with me. I am so thankful to Papa!'
She would have run and thrown her arms about his neck if she had dared; but as she did not dare, she glanced with thankful eyes towards him, as he sat musing; sometimes bestowing an uneasy glance on her, but, for the most part, watching Paul, who walked about the room with the new-blown dignity of having let young Gay have the money.
And young Gay - Walter- what of him?
He was overjoyed to purge the old man's hearth from bailiffs and brokers, and to hurry back to his Uncle with the good tidings. He was overjoyed to have it all arranged and settled next day before noon; and to sit down at evening in the little back parlour with old Sol and Captain Cuttle; and to see the Instrument-maker already reviving, and hopeful for the future, and feeling that the wooden Midshipman was his own again. But without the least impeachment of his gratitude to Mr Dombey, it must be confessed that Walter was humbled and cast down. It is when our budding hopes are nipped beyond recovery by some rough wind, that we are the most disposed to picture to ourselves what flowers they might have borne, if they had flourished; and now, when Walter found himself cut off from that great Dombey height, by the depth of a new and terrible tumble, and felt that all his old wild fancies had been scattered to the winds in the fall, he began to suspect that they might have led him on to harmless visions of aspiring to Florence in the remote distance of time.
The Captain viewed the subject in quite a different light. He appeared to entertain a belief that the interview at which he had assisted was so very satisfactory and encouraging, as to be only a step or two removed from a regular betrothal of Florence to Walter; and that the late transaction had immensely forwarded, if not thoroughly established, the Whittingtonian hopes. Stimulated by this conviction, and by the improvement in the spirits of his old friend, and by his own consequent gaiety, he even attempted, in favouring them with the ballad of 'Lovely Peg' for the third time in one evening, to make an extemporaneous substitution of the name 'Florence;' but finding this difficult, on account of the word Peg invariably rhyming to leg (in which personal beauty the original was described as having excelled all competitors), he hit upon the happy thought of changing it to Fle-e-eg; which he accordingly did, with an archness almost supernatural, and a voice quite vociferous, notwithstanding that the time was close at band when he must seek the abode of the dreadful Mrs MacStinger.
That same evening the Major was diffuse at his club, on the subject of his friend Dombey in the City. 'Damme, Sir,' said the Major, 'he's a prince, is my friend Dombey in the City. I tell you what, Sir. If you had a few more men among you like old Joe Bagstock and my friend Dombey in the City, Sir, you'd do!'

白格斯托克少校通过他的看戏用的双筒小望远镜,越过公主广场对保罗进行了长久与频繁的观察之后,在每天、每周、每月从本地人(他为了这个目的与托克斯小姐的女仆经常交往)那里得到有关这个问题的许多详细的报告之后,得出结论说,董贝先生是一位值得结识的人,乔•白是一位设法要与他结识的后生。
可是托克斯小姐一直保持着疏远的态度,少校每次为了这个目的对她进行摸底,想从她那里哄骗出一些有关的情况(他时常这样做)时,她都冷淡地表示她不想弄明白他的意思,所以少校虽然生性坚强不屈,非常狡猾,也不得不把实现他的愿望这件事多少听随机会去摆布了。“先生,”他常常在俱乐部里谈到他的机会时,吃吃地笑着说,“自从他的哥哥在西印度群岛因为黄热病死了之后,五十比一的机会是对乔埃•白有利的。”
这一次是过了好些时候,机会才来帮助他的,但它终于对他亲近了,当黑皮肤的仆人详详细细地报告说,托克斯小姐有事到布赖顿去了,少校突然感情深厚地回忆起他的孟加拉①朋友比尔•比瑟斯通;比瑟斯通曾经写信给他,如果他有便去布赖顿那一带的话,那就请麻烦他去看一下他的独生子。当这同一位黑皮肤的仆人报告说,保罗住在皮普钦太太那里的时候,少校查看了一下比瑟斯通少爷到达英国以后寄给他的信——过去他从来没想过要把它当一回什么事——,看到好机会已经自己送上门来了;可是那时候他因为患痛风病,正躺在床上疗养,痛风病发作时他狂怒得把一只脚凳向黑仆人扔了过去,来报答他所提供的消息,并发誓说,在他自己死去之前,他要把这无赖弄死。黑仆人非常相信这一点。
终于,少校摆脱了痛风病发作的痛苦,在一个星期六,在本地人尾随之下,骂骂咧咧地到布赖顿去了;一路上他与托克斯小姐谈着话,幸灾乐祸地想像着他以突然袭击的方式把她那位高贵的朋友夺到手中的情景(她曾经把她的那位朋友弄得那么神秘兮兮,而且也是为了他她才把少校抛弃的)。
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①孟加拉(Bengal):当时全属于印度。
“您是不是,夫人,您是不是,”少校说道;他由于怀着报复的情绪紧绷着脸,头上每一根早已发涨的血管涨得更粗了,“您是不是要向乔埃•白告别了,夫人?还没到时候呢,夫人,还没到时候!他妈的,还没到时候呢,先生。乔埃没有睡去,夫人。白格斯托克还活着,先生。乔•白是精明的,夫人。乔埃时时警惕着,先生。您会看到,他是坚强不屈的,夫人,坚强不屈,先生,坚强不屈的就是约瑟夫,坚强不屈,而且像魔鬼般地狡猾!”
当他领着比瑟斯通少爷出去散步的时候,这位年轻人看到他的确是很坚强不屈的。少校四处游逛着,脸色像斯蒂尔顿干酪①一样,眼睛像对虾的一样,完全不考虑比瑟斯通少爷的乐趣。当他上下张望,寻找董贝先生和他的孩子们的时候,他把比瑟斯通少爷硬拽着走。
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①斯蒂尔顿干酪(Stiltoncheese):英国产干酪,以亨丁顿郡一村庄命名,乳黄色,带有青霉菌芽胞蓝绿色花纹。正因为带有蓝绿色的花纹,所以说少校的脸色像它。
由于皮普钦太太事先进行过指点,所以少校及时地侦察到了保罗和弗洛伦斯,并且迅速地向他们走近。有一位庄严的绅士跟他们在一起,他无疑就是董贝先生。当他和比瑟斯通少爷闯进这一小群人中间时,结果自然是比瑟斯通少爷跟他那些同样遭难受罪的伴侣们谈起话来。少校在后面停下脚步,注意地看着他们并称赞着他们;他表示惊奇地记起来,他曾经在公主广场他的朋友托克斯小姐的家里看见过他们,跟他们说过话;他说,保罗是一个非常可爱的孩子,是他自己的小朋友;又问他是否记得乔埃•白少校,最后,他突然记起了习俗惯例应有的礼节,就转过身去,向董贝先生道歉。
“可是我在这里的小朋友又使我变成一个孩子了,先生,”少校说道。“一位老兵承认这一点并不感到难为情,先生,他是白格斯托克少校,随时愿意为您效劳;”少校这时脱下帽子敬礼。“他妈的,先生,”少校突然热情地喊道,“我妒嫉您。”
然后他镇静下来,补充了一句,“请原谅我的放肆。”
董贝先生请他别这么客气。
“一位老兵,先生,”少校说道,“一条被烟熏过,被太阳晒黑的、精疲力尽、因伤病而退伍的少校老狗是不怕像董贝先生这样的人指责他忽起的念头的。我想我能荣幸跟董贝先生交谈几句吗?”
“现在我就是姓我们这个姓的家族的卑贱的代表,少校,”
董贝先生回答道。
“可以对着上帝发誓,先生,”少校说道,“这是个伟大的姓,”少校坚决地说道,仿佛他挑起董贝先生来反驳他,而如果董贝先生真的那么做了,那么他就会感到他负有痛苦的责任来争个高低,让他过不去似的,“这是个在不列颠海外领地中享有声望与尊敬的姓。人们以姓这个姓而感到自豪,先生。约瑟夫•白格斯托克不懂得拍马屁,先生。约克郡公爵殿下不止一次说过,‘乔埃不会拍马屁。他是个普通的老兵,这就是乔,他坚强不屈得有点过了头,这就是约瑟夫。’不过这是个伟大的姓,先生。可以对着天主发誓,这是个伟大的姓!”
少校一本正经地说道。
“承蒙您好意赞扬,不过也许评价太高,有些过分了,少校,”董贝先生回答道。
“不,先生,”少校说道。“我在这里的小朋友会给约瑟夫•白格斯托克证明,他是一位耿直的、坦率的、有话直说的老实人,先生,这就是一切。那个孩子,先生,”少校压低了声音,说道,“将会留芳百世,永垂史册。那个孩子,先生,不是个平凡之辈。请好好照看他,董贝先生。”
董贝先生似乎向他暗示说,他将努力这样去做。
“这里有一个孩子,先生,”少校用说知心话的口吻继续说道,一边用手杖戳戳他。“孟加拉比瑟斯通的儿子。比尔•比瑟斯通从前是我们当中的一个。那个孩子的父亲和我本人过去是莫逆之交,先生。不论您走到哪里,先生,您听到人们谈论的全都是有关比尔•比瑟斯通和乔•白格斯托克的事情。难道我看不见那个孩子的缺点吗?决不是。他是个傻瓜,先生。”
董贝先生向那位遭到诽谤的比瑟斯通少爷看了一眼;他跟少校一样,对这孩子丝毫也不了解,他很得意地说道,“真的吗?”
“真的,他就是这样,先生,”少校说道。“他是个傻瓜。乔•白格斯托克从来不粉饰事实。我的孟加拉老朋友比尔•比瑟斯通的儿子生来就是个傻瓜,先生。”少校说到这里,哈哈大笑着,笑到脸色几乎完全发青。“我想,我的小朋友注定要进公学①的吧,董贝先生?”少校恢复过来之后,问道。
“我还没有作出决定,”董贝先生回答道。“我想不送去。
他的体质虚弱。”
“如果他的体质虚弱,先生,”少校说道,“您不送去是对的。只有坚强不屈的小伙子才能在经受了桑赫斯特②的苦难之后活下来。我们在那里互相折磨,先生。我们把新来的人放在慢火上烤,把他们从四层楼往窗子外面头朝下地倒挂着。先生,约瑟夫•白格斯托克曾经被握住靴子后跟,在校钟旁边的窗子外面挂了十三分钟。”
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①公学(publicschool):英国专为富有子弟而设的私立中等中校,如伊顿(Eton)公学、哈罗(Harrow)公学等。
②桑赫斯特(Sandhurst)是英格兰南部的一个小镇,英国陆军军官学校设在那里。
少校很可以举出他的脸色来证实这段经历,他看上去仿佛确实曾经被倒挂得太久了一些。
“但是它使我们变成了我们那时那样的人,先生,”少校整整衬衫褶边,说道。“我们是铁,先生,它锻造了我们。您住在这里吗,董贝先生?”
“我通常每星期到这里来一次,少校,”那位先生说道。
“我住在贝德福德旅馆。”
“如果您允许,先生,我将荣幸地到贝德福德旅馆去拜访您,”少校说道。“乔埃•白不是个喜爱拜访的人,但是董贝先生不是个平凡的人物。我非常感谢我的小朋友,先生,感谢他使我有幸被介绍跟您认识。”
董贝先生很亲切友好地回答了他的话;白格斯托克少校拍了拍保罗的头之后,说到弗洛伦斯的时候说,她那双眼睛不久就会使年轻人神魂颠倒的。“说实话,也会使老头子神魂颠倒的,先生,”少校补充说道,一边大声地吃吃地笑着。他用手杖捅捅比瑟斯通少爷,迈着急匆匆的快步,跟那位年轻人离开了。当他两只腿分得很开,蹒跚地继续往前走去的时候,他摇晃着脑袋,极为威严地咳嗽着。
少校履行诺言,后来去拜访了董贝先生;董贝先生查阅了军人名册之后,后来也去拜访了少校。然后少校在董贝先生城里的公馆中拜访了他;然后他和董贝先生乘坐着同一辆马车又到布赖顿来。总之,董贝先生与少校相处得异乎寻常地融洽,关系进展得异乎寻常地迅速。董贝先生向他的妹妹谈起少校的时候,说,他不仅是一位真正的军人,而且在他身上还有其他一些东西,因为他对跟他的职业毫无关系的事物,也令人惊叹地了解它们的重要性。
终于,当董贝先生领着托克斯小姐与奇克夫人到布赖顿来看孩子们,并看到少校也在这里的时候,他就邀请他到贝德福德旅馆来吃晚饭,事前还向托克斯小姐极力恭维她有这样一位邻居与熟人。尽管这些暗示使托克斯小姐心房怦怦跳动,但她听起来决不是不愉快的,因为它们使她变得格外有趣,有时使她显得心意烦乱,神志不定,这是她完全不愿意表露出来的。少校给了她很多机会来展现这种情绪,他在晚饭中间不断埋怨她把他和公主广场抛弃了。由于他讲这些话看来是为了取得极大的乐趣,所以他们全都相处得很融洽。
少校掌握着整个谈话;他在这方面的胃口跟他对桌子上的各种美味食品的胃口一样大;几乎可以说他在大吞大咽着这些食品,而这又大大地促使他鼓动他的如簧之舌;这对当时的情况并没有什么不好。由于董贝先生习惯于沉着冷静,不多说话,所以他丝毫没有干预这种喧宾夺主的现象;少校觉得他正在大出风头,因而兴高采烈,把他自己的姓名颠来倒去地说出了无数个新的变化,连他自己也感到十分惊奇。总之,他们全都感到十分高兴。大家觉得少校拥有耗用不尽的谈话资源;当打完一局时间拖得很长的纸牌,少校终于很晚地告别之后,董贝先生又向脸孔羞得通红的托克斯小姐恭维她有这样一位邻居与熟人。
可是在回到自己旅馆的整个路途中,少校不断自言自语地谈着他自己。“狡猾呵,先生——狡猾呵,先生——像魔鬼般地狡猾呵!”到达旅馆以后,他在一张椅子中坐下,默默无声地大笑个不停;他有时是会这样大笑的,而那样子常常是特别可怕的。这一次笑的时间那么长久,所以黑仆人就站在远处看着他,无论如何也不敢走近他,有两三次还以为他已经没有医治的希望了。他的整个身躯,特别是他的脸与头膨胀得比过去任何时候都大,在黑人眼中看到的只是一大堆靛蓝的东西。终于他发出一阵猛烈的咳嗽,在感到好一些以后,他短促地叫喊出以下一些话来:
“您是不是,夫人,您是不是想当董贝夫人,嗯,夫人?我看不成,夫人。只要乔•白能在您的车轮子里插进一根棍子,那就不成,夫人。乔•白现在和您是平等的,夫人。他根本还没有被打倒,退出场外,先生,白格斯托克没有退。她的心计深,先生,心计深,但是乔希的心计更深。老乔清醒着——没有丝毫睡意,而且睁大了眼睛看着,先生!”他最后的一句话无疑是真实的,而且真实到了很可怕的程度;因为在那一夜的大半时间里,继续是这种情形;少校主要是在类似叫喊声中度过那一夜的,有时穿插着一阵阵使整个房屋都感到惊恐的咳嗽与窒息。
就在发生这件事情以后的第二天(这是个星期天),当董贝先生,奇克夫人和托克斯小姐坐着吃早饭,依旧在称赞少校的时候,弗洛伦斯脸上显露出一片明亮的光彩,眼中闪着喜悦的光辉,跑了进来,喊道:
“爸爸!爸爸!沃尔特在这里!他不肯进来。”
“谁?”董贝先生喊道。“她讲的是什么?这是什么意思?”
“沃尔特,爸爸!”弗洛伦斯胆怯地说道;她感到她刚才提到这个人太随随便便了。“我迷路的时候是他把我找到的。”“她是说年轻人盖伊吗,路易莎?”董贝先生皱着眉头,问道。“真的,这孩子的举止变得很吵吵嚷嚷的了。她不会指年轻人盖伊吧,我想。请你去了解一下是什么事情好吗?”
奇克夫人匆忙走进走廊,回来说,是年轻人盖伊,陪他一道来的是一位外貌很古怪的人;年轻人盖伊说,他听说董贝先生正在吃早饭,就不肯冒失地进来;他愿意在外面等候,直到董贝先生允许他进来的时候为止。
“告诉这孩子现在进来吧,”董贝先生说道。“唔,盖伊,发生了什么事情?谁派您到这里来的?没有别的人到这里来了吗?”
“我请您原谅,先生,”沃尔特回答道。“我不是被公司派来的。我是不揣冒昧地为了我的私事到您这里来的;我希望我说明原因以后您会原谅我。”
可是董贝先生没有注意听他讲的话,而是不耐烦地一会儿从他的左边,一会儿从他的右边去看他背后的一个什么目标,仿佛他本人是一根挡住他视线的柱子似的。
“那是什么?”董贝先生说道。“那是谁?我想您走错了门了吧,先生?”
“啊,我很抱歉,我不是一个人来的,先生,”沃尔特急忙喊道;“不过这是——这是卡特尔船长,先生。”
“沃尔,我的孩子,”船长用深沉的声音说道;“做好准备!”
在这同时,船长向前走近一些,十分清楚地显露出了他的宽大的蓝上衣,显眼的衬衫领子和有好多疙瘩的鼻子;他站着向董贝先生鞠躬,并彬彬有礼地向女士们挥着钩子,另一只手中拿着那顶上了光的硬帽子,头的周围显露出一个红色的圆圈,那是帽子新近留下的痕迹。
董贝先生惊奇而愤怒地注视着这个现象,并且以他的脸色要求奇克夫人与托克斯小姐跟他一道表示不满。当船长挥着钩子的时候,跟随弗洛伦斯进来的小保罗背朝着托克斯小姐后退,并站在那里作出了防御的姿态。
“唔,盖伊,”董贝先生说道,“您有什么要对我说的?”
船长又说道,“沃尔,做好准备!”这就算作是谈话的一个开端,它不会不取得所有在场人的好感的。
“我担心,先生,”沃尔特哆嗦着,眼睛向下看着地面,说道,“我到这里来是十分放肆的,——确实,我相信是这样。甚至我到了这里以后,我恐怕也没有勇气请求见您,先生,如果我没有遇见董贝小姐,而且——”
“唔!”董贝先生说道;当沃尔特向注意听他讲话的弗洛伦斯看了一眼的时候,董贝先生跟随着他的眼光;当她微笑着对沃尔特表示鼓励的时候,他不自觉地皱起了眉头。“请继续说下去。”
“是的,是的,”船长说道;他认为,他是一位有教养的人,他有责任来支持董贝先生。“说得很好!继续说下去,沃尔。”
董贝先生表示听到了支持他的话,向他看了一眼;卡特尔船长当时如果看到这个眼光的话,那么他一定是会全身畏缩的。可是他完全不知道这一点,所以他闭了一只眼睛作为回答,并寓有深意地挥了挥钩子,让董贝先生明白,沃尔特开始有些胆怯,但可以期望他很快就会平静下来的。
“我到这里来完全是为了一件私人的事情,先生,”沃尔特结结巴巴地继续说道,“这位卡特尔船长——”
“就在这里!”船长打断了他的话,证明他就在近旁,而且是可以信赖的。
“是我可怜的舅舅的一位很老的朋友,是一个极好的人,先生,”沃尔特抬起眼睛,露出为船长求情的神色,继续说下去,“他一片好心,提出要陪我到这里来,我不能拒绝他的要求。”
“是的,是的,是的,”船长喜洋洋地说道。“当然不能。
哪能拒绝呢。往下说吧,沃尔。”
“因此,先生,”沃尔特说道;他大胆地接触到董贝先生的眼光,在极为绝望的情况下鼓起勇气继续说下去,因为现在已经没法退避了,“因此我就跟他一起到这里来,想告诉您,先生,我的可怜的年老的舅舅正处在极大的痛苦与不幸之中。由于他的营业逐渐亏损,无法偿还欠款——我知道得很清楚,先生,这个恐惧过去好几个月一直沉甸甸地压在他的心头——,他家里的财产就要查封,他将失去他所有的东西,伤心而死;他现在正处在这样的危险之中。如果您由于长久以来一直知道他是一位品德端正的人,慈悲为怀,并因此能做点什么事来帮助他走出困境的话,先生,那么我们对您真将感激不尽。”
沃尔特说话的时候,眼睛里充满了泪水,弗洛伦斯的眼睛里也是一样。她的父亲看上去好像只是看着沃尔特,但他看到她的这些泪水在闪着亮光。
“这是一笔很大的款子,先生,”沃尔特说道。“三百多镑。我的舅舅已经完全被他的不幸压垮了;它是那么沉重地压在他身上,因此他已经完全不能做什么事情来解救自己。他甚至不知道我已经到这里来跟您谈话。您可能希望,先生,”沃尔特迟疑了片刻之后,补充说道,“我确切地说出我究竟需要什么。我确实不知道,先生。我舅舅有一些货物。我想我可以有把握地说,他已经没有别的债务了。还有卡特尔船长,他也愿意出面担保。我——我实在不想提到我挣的那点钱;”沃尔特说道,“但是如果您允许把它们积攒起来——抵偿——借贷给——舅舅——这位节俭的、正直的老人。”沃尔特吃力地说着这些断断续续、支离破碎的句子,声音愈来愈小,终于默不作声,低垂着头,站在他的雇主前面。
卡特尔船长觉得这是显示那些贵重物品的好时机,就向前走到餐桌跟前,在董贝先生身旁的餐杯中间清出一小片地方,取出了银表、现钱、茶匙和方糖箝子;又把它们堆成一堆,使它们看起来显得格外贵重,然后说出了以下的一番话:
“半块面包比没有面包好,就面包屑来说,也同样可以这样说。这里是一些面包屑。以后还准备贡献上一百镑的年金。如果世界上有一位脑子里充满科学的人,那么这个人就是老所尔•吉尔斯。如果世界上有一个前程远大的小伙子——一个‘流着牛奶与蜂蜜’①的小伙子的话”船长引用了他得意的语录,补充说道,“——那么这就是他的外甥!”
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①“流着牛奶与蜂蜜”原是圣经中形容肥沃的土地(巴勒斯坦)的话,船长用它来形容沃尔特年轻有为、前程远大。
然后船长退回到他原先的地方,站在那里梳理梳理那散乱的头发,露出一副刚刚完成一件最艰难的任务的人的神态。
当沃尔特停止讲话的时候,董贝先生的眼光被吸引到小保罗的身上;小保罗看到他姐姐低垂着头,由于怜悯她所听到的不幸正在默默地哭泣着,就向她走过去,设法安慰她;当他这样做的时候,他脸上富于表情地望着沃尔特和他的父亲。董贝先生由于卡特尔船长的谈话暂时转移了注意力(他对这个谈话高傲地漠不关心)之后,又把眼睛转到他的儿子身上,默默地坐了一些时候,专心一意地望着这孩子。
“这笔债是为什么欠下的?”董贝先生终于问道。“谁是债权人?”
“他不知道,”船长把手搁在沃尔特的肩膀上,回答道。
“我知道。那是因为帮助一位现已不在人世的人而欠下的。可是那已经使我的朋友吉尔斯耗费了几百镑了。如果您同意,详细情况我可以在私下里说给您听。”
“那些好不容易自己才能生活下去的人们,”董贝先生没有注意船长在沃尔特背后所做的神秘的手势,仍然看着他的儿子,说道,“最好安安分分地照料他们自己的负担和困难就行了,不要再去替别人担保,增加这种负担和困难了。这是一种不诚实的,而且也是狂妄无礼的行为,”董贝先生严厉地说道;“极大的狂妄无礼;因为那些富有的人所能做的最多也不过如此罢了。保罗,到这里来!”
孩子依从了。董贝先生把他抱到膝盖上。
“如果你现在有钱——”董贝先生说道,“看着我!”
保罗的眼睛原先看着他的姐姐和沃尔特,这时看着他父亲的脸。
“如果你现在有钱,”董贝先生说道,“有年轻人盖伊谈到的那么多的钱的话,那么你将怎么办?”
“把它给他年老的舅舅,”保罗回答道。
“把它借给他年老的舅舅,是不是?”董贝先生对他进行纠正,说道。“唔!你知道,等你长大以后,你将跟我一起享有我的钱。我们将一起使用它。”
“董贝父子,”保罗打断他的话,说道;他很小就被教会说这几个字。
“董贝父子,”他的父亲重复说道。“你愿意现在就来管董贝父子公司的事,把这钱借给盖伊的舅舅吗?”
“啊!如果你愿意的话,爸爸!”保罗说道。“弗洛伦斯也会愿意的。”
“女孩子,”董贝先生说道,“跟董贝父子没有关系。你愿意吗?”
“愿意,爸爸,愿意!”
“那么就由你来办这件事,”他的父亲回答道。“你看到了,保罗,”他压低了声音,补充说道,“钱有多么大的力量;人们多么急切地想要得到它。年轻人盖伊跑这一趟路来是为了恳求借钱,而你是这么高贵、伟大、有钱,你将作为一笔很大的恩惠与人情,让他得到它。”
保罗把那张老气的脸向上抬起一会儿,明白地表示他十分理解这些话的含义,可是当他从他父亲的膝盖上滑溜下来,跑去告诉弗洛伦斯不要再哭,因为他将让年轻的盖伊得到这笔钱的时候,那张脸又立刻变得年轻与孩子气了。
于是董贝先生转身走到一张边桌旁边,写了一张条子,盖了章。在这段时间里,保罗与弗洛伦斯低声地跟沃尔特说话,卡特尔船长则眉开眼笑地看着这三个人,心中怀着那样抱负不凡的、难以形容的狂妄的思想,那是董贝先生决不会相信的。条子处理完毕之后,董贝先生回到他原先的地方,把它交给沃尔特。
“明天早上第一件事,”他说道,“就是把这交给卡克先生。他会立刻作出安排,让我的一位职员支付那笔钱,把您的舅舅从他目前的困境中解脱出来;偿还的条件也是规定得符合您舅舅的境况的。您就把这看作是保罗少爷为您办的吧!”
沃尔特手里拿着把他的善良的舅舅从灾难中解救出来的手段,心中无比激动,本想尽力说些表示感激与喜悦的话。可是董贝先生突然制止了他。
“您就把这看作是保罗少爷为您办的吧,”他重复说道,“我已经向他解释过,他也听明白了,我没有别的话要说的了。”
因为他用手指着门,沃尔特只好向他鞠躬,告别了。托克斯小姐看到船长好像也正要这样做的时候,插嘴道:
“我亲爱的先生,”她对董贝先生说道;她和奇克夫人对他的慷慨都流出了大量的眼泪;“我想您疏忽了一点什么事情了。请原谅我,董贝先生,我觉得,由于您品格高尚,豁达大度,您没有注意到一件小事。”
“真的吗,托克斯小姐!”董贝先生说道。
“那位带着——工具的先生,”托克斯小姐向卡特尔船长看了一眼,说下去,“在餐桌上挨近您的地方留下了——”
“老天爷!”董贝先生说道,一边把船长的财产从他的身边一下推开,仿佛它真是好多面包屑似的。“把这些东西拿走。我感谢您,托克斯小姐;您一向都是考虑得这样周到。劳驾您把这些东西拿走吧,先生。”
卡特尔船长觉得他除了遵命照办外,没有别的选择。可是董贝先生拒绝接受这些堆积在他手边的财宝,表现得那么宽宏大量,这使他十分感动,因此当他把茶匙和方糖箝子装进一只衣袋,把现钱装进另一只衣袋,把那只大表慢慢地往下放到它的合适的洞穴里去的时候,他情不自禁地把这位先生的右手握到他那只单独的左手里,而且当他用有劲的手指把它撑开的时候,他在满怀敬佩的心情中,把钩子接触到它的掌心。董贝先生在热烈的感情与冰冷的铁件的接触下,全身打了个冷颤。
然后,卡特尔船长极为文雅、极为殷勤地把钩子吻了好几次,向女士们致意;在向保罗与弗洛伦斯特别进行了告别之后,他陪着沃尔特走出了房间。弗洛伦斯出自一片热心,追在他们后面,要他们代向老所尔问候,这时候董贝先生喊她回来,吩咐她待在原先的地方。
“难道你永远也不想成为真正的董贝家里的人了吗?我亲爱的孩子!”奇克夫人用感伤与责备的语气说道。
“亲爱的姑妈,”弗洛伦斯说道。“别生我的气,我是多么感谢爸爸啊!”
如果她敢的话,那么她真想跑过去,伸出胳膊搂住他的脖子;可是因为她不敢这样做,所以她就用感激的眼光向他看看;这时他坐在那里沉思着,有时不安地向她看一眼,但大部分时间是注视着保罗;这孩子正在房间里走来走去,摆出一副威风凛凛的气派,那是由于让年轻的盖伊得到了钱而刚刚产生出来的。
那么年轻的盖伊——沃尔特,他的情况怎么样了呢?
他欢天喜地地把法警与经纪人从老人家里清除掉,急忙回到舅舅身边去向他报告好消息;他欢天喜地地在第二天中午以前把一切事情安排妥当,处理完毕,晚上在小后客厅里与老所尔和卡特尔船长坐在一起,并且看到仪器制造商已经重新振作起精神,对未来充满希望,同时感到木制海军军官候补生又属于他自己的了。可是必须承认,沃尔特感到自己丧尽体面,意气消沉。这丝毫也不是责备他对董贝先生不知感激。当我们希望的萌芽已被一阵暴风冻死,无法恢复生机的时候,我们最不愿意向我们自己描绘,如果它们蓬勃生长的话,那么它们可能会开放出什么样的花朵了。现在当沃尔特发现自己又一次从伟大的董贝高峰上可怕地深深地滚落下来,从而和它完全切断,并且感到他旧日的狂妄的幻想已经在滚落时在风中化为乌有的时候,他开始怀疑,这些希望是否还能在遥远的将来,继续引导他走向渴望得到弗洛伦斯的无害的梦幻。
船长却从完全不同的角度来看这个问题。他似乎相信,他曾给予帮助的这次会晤令人十分称心满意和欢欣鼓舞,它离弗洛伦斯与沃尔特正式订婚只差一两步了。在这种信心的激励下,在他老朋友情绪好转以及他自己随之而来的欢乐心情的鼓舞下,有一天晚上,当他第三次为他们唱《可爱的佩格姑娘》这支民歌的时候,他甚至试图即席用“弗洛伦斯”的名字来代替;但他发现“佩格”这个词总是要跟“莱格”①(腿)这个词押韵(民歌中描写女主人公的腿长得十分美丽,她的生理上的这个优点使她压倒了所有的竞争者),于是灵机一动,就把它改成“弗洛—莱格”;虽然他必须回到可怕的麦克斯廷杰太太的住所的时候就要到了,可是他仍旧那样唱起来,唱时那副诡诈的神气几乎是超自然的,而且声音十分喧闹。
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①英文中腿(leg)这个词的发音为莱格。
慕若涵

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Chapter 11
Paul's Introduction to a New Scene
Mrs Pipchin's constitution was made of such hard metal, in spite of its liability to the fleshly weaknesses of standing in need of repose after chops, and of requiring to be coaxed to sleep by the soporific agency of sweet-breads, that it utterly set at naught the predictions of Mrs Wickam, and showed no symptoms of decline. Yet, as Paul's rapt interest in the old lady continued unbated, Mrs Wickam would not budge an inch from the position she had taken up. Fortifying and entrenching herself on the strong ground of her Uncle's Betsey Jane, she advised Miss Berry, as a friend, to prepare herself for the worst; and forewarned her that her aunt might, at any time, be expected to go off suddenly, like a powder-mill.
'I hope, Miss Berry,' Mrs Wickam would observe, 'that you'll come into whatever little property there may be to leave. You deserve it, I am sure, for yours is a trying life. Though there don't seem much worth coming into - you'll excuse my being so open - in this dismal den.'
Poor Berry took it all in good part, and drudged and slaved away as usual; perfectly convinced that Mrs Pipchin was one of the most meritorious persons in the world, and making every day innumerable sacrifices of herself upon the altar of that noble old woman. But all these immolations of Berry were somehow carried to the credit of Mrs Pipchin by Mrs Pipchin's friends and admirers; and were made to harmonise with, and carry out, that melancholy fact of the deceased Mr Pipchin having broken his heart in the Peruvian mines.
For example, there was an honest grocer and general dealer in the retail line of business, between whom and Mrs Pipchin there was a small memorandum book, with a greasy red cover, perpetually in question, and concerning which divers secret councils and conferences were continually being held between the parties to that register, on the mat in the passage, and with closed doors in the parlour. Nor were there wanting dark hints from Master Bitherstone (whose temper had been made revengeful by the solar heats of India acting on his blood), of balances unsettled, and of a failure, on one occasion within his memory, in the supply of moist sugar at tea-time. This grocer being a bachelor and not a man who looked upon the surface for beauty, had once made honourable offers for the hand of Berry, which Mrs Pipchin had, with contumely and scorn, rejected. Everybody said how laudable this was in Mrs Pipchin, relict of a man who had died of the Peruvian mines; and what a staunch, high, independent spirit the old lady had. But nobody said anything about poor Berry, who cried for six weeks (being soundly rated by her good aunt all the time), and lapsed into a state of hopeless spinsterhood.
'Berry's very fond of you, ain't she?' Paul once asked Mrs Pipchin when they were sitting by the fire with the cat.
'Yes,' said Mrs Pipchin.
'Why?' asked Paul.
'Why!' returned the disconcerted old lady. 'How can you ask such things, Sir! why are you fond of your sister Florence?'
'Because she's very good,' said Paul. 'There's nobody like Florence.'
'Well!' retorted Mrs Pipchin, shortly, 'and there's nobody like me, I suppose.'
'Ain't there really though?' asked Paul, leaning forward in his chair, and looking at her very hard.
'No,' said the old lady.
'I am glad of that,' observed Paul, rubbing his hands thoughtfully. 'That's a very good thing.'
Mrs Pipchin didn't dare to ask him why, lest she should receive some perfectly annihilating answer. But as a compensation to her wounded feelings, she harassed Master Bitherstone to that extent until bed-time, that he began that very night to make arrangements for an overland return to India, by secreting from his supper a quarter of a round of bread and a fragment of moist Dutch cheese, as the beginning of a stock of provision to support him on the voyage.
Mrs Pipchin had kept watch and ward over little Paul and his sister for nearly twelve months. They had been home twice, but only for a few days; and had been constant in their weekly visits to Mr Dombey at the hotel. By little and little Paul had grown stronger, and had become able to dispense with his carriage; though he still looked thin and delicate; and still remained the same old, quiet, dreamy child that he had been when first consigned to Mrs Pipchin's care. One Saturday afternoon, at dusk, great consternation was occasioned in the Castle by the unlooked-for announcement of Mr Dombey as a visitor to Mrs Pipchin. The population of the parlour was immediately swept upstairs as on the wings of a whirlwind, and after much slamming of bedroom doors, and trampling overhead, and some knocking about of Master Bitherstone by Mrs Pipchin, as a relief to the perturbation of her spirits, the black bombazeen garments of the worthy old lady darkened the audience-chamber where Mr Dombey was contemplating the vacant arm-chair of his son and heir.
'Mrs Pipchin,' said Mr Dombey, 'How do you do?'
'Thank you, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin, 'I am pretty well, considering.'
Mrs Pipchin always used that form of words. It meant, considering her virtues, sacrifices, and so forth.
'I can't expect, Sir, to be very well,' said Mrs Pipchin, taking a chair and fetching her breath; 'but such health as I have, I am grateful for.'
Mr Dombey inclined his head with the satisfied air of a patron, who felt that this was the sort of thing for which he paid so much a quarter. After a moment's silence he went on to say:
'Mrs Pipchin, I have taken the liberty of calling, to consult you in reference to my son. I have had it in my mind to do so for some time past; but have deferred it from time to time, in order that his health might be thoroughly re-established. You have no misgivings on that subject, Mrs Pipchin?'
'Brighton has proved very beneficial, Sir,' returned Mrs Pipchin. 'Very beneficial, indeed.'
'I purpose,' said Mr Dombey, 'his remaining at Brighton.'
Mrs Pipchin rubbed her hands, and bent her grey eyes on the fire.
'But,' pursued Mr Dombey, stretching out his forefinger, 'but possibly that he should now make a change, and lead a different kind of life here. In short, Mrs Pipchin, that is the object of my visit. My son is getting on, Mrs Pipchin. Really, he is getting on.'
There was something melancholy in the triumphant air with which Mr Dombey said this. It showed how long Paul's childish life had been to him, and how his hopes were set upon a later stage of his existence. Pity may appear a strange word to connect with anyone so haughty and so cold, and yet he seemed a worthy subject for it at that moment.
'Six years old!' said Mr Dombey, settling his neckcloth - perhaps to hide an irrepressible smile that rather seemed to strike upon the surface of his face and glance away, as finding no resting-place, than to play there for an instant. 'Dear me, six will be changed to sixteen, before we have time to look about us.'
'Ten years,' croaked the unsympathetic Pipchin, with a frosty glistening of her hard grey eye, and a dreary shaking of her bent head, 'is a long time.'
'It depends on circumstances, returned Mr Dombey; 'at all events, Mrs Pipchin, my son is six years old, and there is no doubt, I fear, that in his studies he is behind many children of his age - or his youth,' said Mr Dombey, quickly answering what he mistrusted was a shrewd twinkle of the frosty eye, 'his youth is a more appropriate expression. Now, Mrs Pipchin, instead of being behind his peers, my son ought to be before them; far before them. There is an eminence ready for him to mount upon. There is nothing of chance or doubt in the course before my son. His way in life was clear and prepared, and marked out before he existed. The education of such a young gentleman must not be delayed. It must not be left imperfect. It must be very steadily and seriously undertaken, Mrs Pipchin.'
'Well, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin, 'I can say nothing to the contrary.'
'I was quite sure, Mrs Pipchin,' returned Mr Dombey, approvingly, 'that a person of your good sense could not, and would not.'
'There is a great deal of nonsense - and worse - talked about young people not being pressed too hard at first, and being tempted on, and all the rest of it, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin, impatiently rubbing her hooked nose. 'It never was thought of in my time, and it has no business to be thought of now. My opinion is "keep 'em at it".'
'My good madam,' returned Mr Dombey, 'you have not acquired your reputation undeservedly; and I beg you to believe, Mrs Pipchin, that I am more than satisfied with your excellent system of management, and shall have the greatest pleasure in commending it whenever my poor commendation - ' Mr Dombey's loftiness when he affected to disparage his own importance, passed all bounds - 'can be of any service. I have been thinking of Doctor Blimber's, Mrs Pipchin.'
'My neighbour, Sir?' said Mrs Pipchin. 'I believe the Doctor's is an excellent establishment. I've heard that it's very strictly conducted, and there is nothing but learning going on from morning to night.'
'And it's very expensive,' added Mr Dombey.
'And it's very expensive, Sir,' returned Mrs Pipchin, catching at the fact, as if in omitting that, she had omitted one of its leading merits.
'I have had some communication with the Doctor, Mrs Pipchin,' said Mr Dombey, hitching his chair anxiously a little nearer to the fire, 'and he does not consider Paul at all too young for his purpose. He mentioned several instances of boys in Greek at about the same age. If I have any little uneasiness in my own mind, Mrs Pipchin, on the subject of this change, it is not on that head. My son not having known a mother has gradually concentrated much - too much - of his childish affection on his sister. Whether their separation - ' Mr Dombey said no more, but sat silent.
'Hoity-toity!' exclaimed Mrs Pipchin, shaking out her black bombazeen skirts, and plucking up all the ogress within her. 'If she don't like it, Mr Dombey, she must be taught to lump it.' The good lady apologised immediately afterwards for using so common a figure of speech, but said (and truly) that that was the way she reasoned with 'em.
Mr Dombey waited until Mrs Pipchin had done bridling and shaking her head, and frowning down a legion of Bitherstones and Pankeys; and then said quietly, but correctively, 'He, my good madam, he.'
Mrs Pipchin's system would have applied very much the same mode of cure to any uneasiness on the part of Paul, too; but as the hard grey eye was sharp enough to see that the recipe, however Mr Dombey might admit its efficacy in the case of the daughter, was not a sovereign remedy for the son, she argued the point; and contended that change, and new society, and the different form of life he would lead at Doctor Blimber's, and the studies he would have to master, would very soon prove sufficient alienations. As this chimed in with Mr Dombey's own hope and belief, it gave that gentleman a still higher opinion of Mrs Pipchin's understanding; and as Mrs Pipchin, at the same time, bewailed the loss of her dear little friend (which was not an overwhelming shock to her, as she had long expected it, and had not looked, in the beginning, for his remaining with her longer than three months), he formed an equally good opinion of Mrs Pipchin's disinterestedness. It was plain that he had given the subject anxious consideration, for he had formed a plan, which he announced to the ogress, of sending Paul to the Doctor's as a weekly boarder for the first half year, during which time Florence would remain at the Castle, that she might receive her brother there, on Saturdays. This would wean him by degrees, Mr Dombey said; possibly with a recollection of his not having been weaned by degrees on a former occasion.
Mr Dombey finished the interview by expressing his hope that Mrs Pipchin would still remain in office as general superintendent and overseer of his son, pending his studies at Brighton; and having kissed Paul, and shaken hands with Florence, and beheld Master Bitherstone in his collar of state, and made Miss Pankey cry by patting her on the head (in which region she was uncommonly tender, on account of a habit Mrs Pipchin had of sounding it with her knuckles, like a cask), he withdrew to his hotel and dinner: resolved that Paul, now that he was getting so old and well, should begin a vigorous course of education forthwith, to qualify him for the position in which he was to shine; and that Doctor Blimber should take him in hand immediately.
Whenever a young gentleman was taken in hand by Doctor Blimber, he might consider himself sure of a pretty tight squeeze. The Doctor only undertook the charge of ten young gentlemen, but he had, always ready, a supply of learning for a hundred, on the lowest estimate; and it was at once the business and delight of his life to gorge the unhappy ten with it.
In fact, Doctor Blimber's establishment was a great hot-house, in which there was a forcing apparatus incessantly at work. All the boys blew before their time. Mental green-peas were produced at Christmas, and intellectual asparagus all the year round. Mathematical gooseberries (very sour ones too) were common at untimely seasons, and from mere sprouts of bushes, under Doctor Blimber's cultivation. Every description of Greek and Latin vegetable was got off the driest twigs of boys, under the frostiest circumstances. Nature was of no consequence at all. No matter what a young gentleman was intended to bear, Doctor Blimber made him bear to pattern, somehow or other.
This was all very pleasant and ingenious, but the system of forcing was attended with its usual disadvantages. There was not the right taste about the premature productions, and they didn't keep well. Moreover, one young gentleman, with a swollen nose and an excessively large head (the oldest of the ten who had 'gone through' everything), suddenly left off blowing one day, and remained in the establishment a mere stalk. And people did say that the Doctor had rather overdone it with young Toots, and that when he began to have whiskers he left off having brains.
There young Toots was, at any rate; possessed of the gruffest of voices and the shrillest of minds; sticking ornamental pins into his shirt, and keeping a ring in his waistcoat pocket to put on his little finger by stealth, when the pupils went out walking; constantly falling in love by sight with nurserymaids, who had no idea of his existence; and looking at the gas-lighted world over the little iron bars in the left-hand corner window of the front three pairs of stairs, after bed-time, like a greatly overgrown cherub who had sat up aloft much too long.
The Doctor was a portly gentleman in a suit of black, with strings at his knees, and stockings below them. He had a bald head, highly polished; a deep voice; and a chin so very double, that it was a wonder how he ever managed to shave into the creases. He had likewise a pair of little eyes that were always half shut up, and a mouth that was always half expanded into a grin, as if he had, that moment, posed a boy, and were waiting to convict him from his own lips. Insomuch, that when the Doctor put his right hand into the breast of his coat, and with his other hand behind him, and a scarcely perceptible wag of his head, made the commonest observation to a nervous stranger, it was like a sentiment from the sphynx, and settled his business.
The Doctor's was a mighty fine house, fronting the sea. Not a joyful style of house within, but quite the contrary. Sad-coloured curtains, whose proportions were spare and lean, hid themselves despondently behind the windows. The tables and chairs were put away in rows, like figures in a sum; fires were so rarely lighted in the rooms of ceremony, that they felt like wells, and a visitor represented the bucket; the dining-room seemed the last place in the world where any eating or drinking was likely to occur; there was no sound through all the house but the ticking of a great clock in the hall, which made itself audible in the very garrets; and sometimes a dull cooing of young gentlemen at their lessons, like the murmurings of an assemblage of melancholy pigeons.
Miss Blimber, too, although a slim and graceful maid, did no soft violence to the gravity of the house. There was no light nonsense about Miss Blimber. She kept her hair short and crisp, and wore spectacles. She was dry and sandy with working in the graves of deceased languages. None of your live languages for Miss Blimber. They must be dead - stone dead - and then Miss Blimber dug them up like a Ghoul.
Mrs Blimber, her Mama, was not learned herself, but she pretended to be, and that did quite as well. She said at evening parties, that if she could have known Cicero, she thought she could have died contented. It was the steady joy of her life to see the Doctor's young gentlemen go out walking, unlike all other young gentlemen, in the largest possible shirt-collars, and the stiffest possible cravats. It was so classical, she said.
As to Mr Feeder, B.A., Doctor Blimber's assistant, he was a kind of human barrel-organ, with a little list of tunes at which he was continually working, over and over again, without any variation. He might have been fitted up with a change of barrels, perhaps, in early life, if his destiny had been favourable; but it had not been; and he had only one, with which, in a monotonous round, it was his occupation to bewilder the young ideas of Doctor Blimber's young gentlemen. The young gentlemen were prematurely full of carking anxieties. They knew no rest from the pursuit of stony-hearted verbs, savage noun-substantives, inflexible syntactic passages, and ghosts of exercises that appeared to them in their dreams. Under the forcing system, a young gentleman usually took leave of his spirits in three weeks. He had all the cares of the world on his head in three months. He conceived bitter sentiments against his parents or guardians in four; he was an old misanthrope, in five; envied Curtius that blessed refuge in the earth, in six; and at the end of the first twelvemonth had arrived at the conclusion, from which he never afterwards departed, that all the fancies of the poets, and lessons of the sages, were a mere collection of words and grammar, and had no other meaning in the world.
But he went on blow, blow, blowing, in the Doctor's hothouse, all the time; and the Doctor's glory and reputation were great, when he took his wintry growth home to his relations and friends.
Upon the Doctor's door-steps one day, Paul stood with a fluttering heart, and with his small right hand in his father's. His other hand was locked in that of Florence. How tight the tiny pressure of that one; and how loose and cold the other!
Mrs Pipchin hovered behind the victim, with her sable plumage and her hooked beak, like a bird of ill-omen. She was out of breath - for Mr Dombey, full of great thoughts, had walked fast - and she croaked hoarsely as she waited for the opening of the door.
'Now, Paul,' said Mr Dombey, exultingly. 'This is the way indeed to be Dombey and Son, and have money. You are almost a man already.'
'Almost,' returned the child.
Even his childish agitation could not master the sly and quaint yet touching look, with which he accompanied the reply.
It brought a vague expression of dissatisfaction into Mr Dombey's face; but the door being opened, it was quickly gone
'Doctor Blimber is at home, I believe?' said Mr Dombey.
The man said yes; and as they passed in, looked at Paul as if he were a little mouse, and the house were a trap. He was a weak-eyed young man, with the first faint streaks or early dawn of a grin on his countenance. It was mere imbecility; but Mrs Pipchin took it into her head that it was impudence, and made a snap at him directly.
'How dare you laugh behind the gentleman's back?' said Mrs Pipchin. 'And what do you take me for?'
'I ain't a laughing at nobody, and I'm sure I don't take you for nothing, Ma'am,' returned the young man, in consternation.
'A pack of idle dogs!' said Mrs Pipchin, 'only fit to be turnspits. Go and tell your master that Mr Dombey's here, or it'll be worse for you!'
The weak-eyed young man went, very meekly, to discharge himself of this commission; and soon came back to invite them to the Doctor's study.
'You're laughing again, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin, when it came to her turn, bringing up the rear, to pass him in the hall.
'I ain't,' returned the young man, grievously oppressed. 'I never see such a thing as this!'
'What is the matter, Mrs Pipchin?' said Mr Dombey, looking round. 'Softly! Pray!'
Mrs Pipchin, in her deference, merely muttered at the young man as she passed on, and said, 'Oh! he was a precious fellow' - leaving the young man, who was all meekness and incapacity, affected even to tears by the incident. But Mrs Pipchin had a way of falling foul of all meek people; and her friends said who could wonder at it, after the Peruvian mines!
The Doctor was sitting in his portentous study, with a globe at each knee, books all round him, Homer over the door, and Minerva on the mantel-shelf. 'And how do you do, Sir?' he said to Mr Dombey, 'and how is my little friend?' Grave as an organ was the Doctor's speech; and when he ceased, the great clock in the hall seemed (to Paul at least) to take him up, and to go on saying, 'how, is, my, lit, tle, friend? how, is, my, lit, tle, friend?' over and over and over again.
The little friend being something too small to be seen at all from where the Doctor sat, over the books on his table, the Doctor made several futile attempts to get a view of him round the legs; which Mr Dombey perceiving, relieved the Doctor from his embarrassment by taking Paul up in his arms, and sitting him on another little table, over against the Doctor, in the middle of the room.
'Ha!' said the Doctor, leaning back in his chair with his hand in his breast. 'Now I see my little friend. How do you do, my little friend?'
The clock in the hall wouldn't subscribe to this alteration in the form of words, but continued to repeat how, is, my, lit, tle, friend? how, is, my, lit, tle, friend?'
'Very well, I thank you, Sir,' returned Paul, answering the clock quite as much as the Doctor.
'Ha!' said Doctor Blimber. 'Shall we make a man of him?'
'Do you hear, Paul?' added Mr Dombey; Paul being silent.
'Shall we make a man of him?' repeated the Doctor.
'I had rather be a child,' replied Paul.
'Indeed!' said the Doctor. 'Why?'
The child sat on the table looking at him, with a curious expression of suppressed emotion in his face, and beating one hand proudly on his knee as if he had the rising tears beneath it, and crushed them. But his other hand strayed a little way the while, a little farther - farther from him yet - until it lighted on the neck of Florence. 'This is why,' it seemed to say, and then the steady look was broken up and gone; the working lip was loosened; and the tears came streaming forth.
'Mrs Pipchin,' said his father, in a querulous manner, 'I am really very sorry to see this.'
'Come away from him, do, Miss Dombey,' quoth the matron.
'Never mind,' said the Doctor, blandly nodding his head, to keep Mrs Pipchin back. 'Never mind; we shall substitute new cares and new impressions, Mr Dombey, very shortly. You would still wish my little friend to acquire - '
'Everything, if you please, Doctor,' returned Mr Dombey, firmly.
'Yes,' said the Doctor, who, with his half-shut eyes, and his usual smile, seemed to survey Paul with the sort of interest that might attach to some choice little animal he was going to stuff. 'Yes, exactly. Ha! We shall impart a great variety of information to our little friend, and bring him quickly forward, I daresay. I daresay. Quite a virgin soil, I believe you said, Mr Dombey?'
'Except some ordinary preparation at home, and from this lady,' replied Mr Dombey, introducing Mrs Pipchin, who instantly communicated a rigidity to her whole muscular system, and snorted defiance beforehand, in case the Doctor should disparage her; 'except so far, Paul has, as yet, applied himself to no studies at all.'
Doctor Blimber inclined his head, in gentle tolerance of such insignificant poaching as Mrs Pipchin's, and said he was glad to hear it. It was much more satisfactory, he observed, rubbing his hands, to begin at the foundation. And again he leered at Paul, as if he would have liked to tackle him with the Greek alphabet, on the spot.
'That circumstance, indeed, Doctor Blimber,' pursued Mr Dombey, glancing at his little son, 'and the interview I have already had the pleasure of holding with you, renders any further explanation, and consequently, any further intrusion on your valuable time, so unnecessary, that - '
'Now, Miss Dombey!' said the acid Pipchin.
'Permit me,' said the Doctor, 'one moment. Allow me to present Mrs Blimber and my daughter; who will be associated with the domestic life of our young Pilgrim to Parnassus Mrs Blimber,' for the lady, who had perhaps been in waiting, opportunely entered, followed by her daughter, that fair Sexton in spectacles, 'Mr Dombey. My daughter Cornelia, Mr Dombey. Mr Dombey, my love,' pursued the Doctor, turning to his wife, 'is so confiding as to - do you see our little friend?'
Mrs Blimber, in an excess of politeness, of which Mr Dombey was the object, apparently did not, for she was backing against the little friend, and very much endangering his position on the table. But, on this hint, she turned to admire his classical and intellectual lineaments, and turning again to Mr Dombey, said, with a sigh, that she envied his dear son.
'Like a bee, Sir,' said Mrs Blimber, with uplifted eyes, 'about to plunge into a garden of the choicest flowers, and sip the sweets for the first time Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Terence, Plautus, Cicero. What a world of honey have we here. It may appear remarkable, Mr Dombey, in one who is a wife - the wife of such a husband - '
'Hush, hush,' said Doctor Blimber. 'Fie for shame.'
'Mr Dombey will forgive the partiality of a wife,' said Mrs Blimber, with an engaging smile.
Mr Dombey answered 'Not at all:' applying those words, it is to be presumed, to the partiality, and not to the forgiveness.
'And it may seem remarkable in one who is a mother also,' resumed Mrs Blimber.
'And such a mother,' observed Mr Dombey, bowing with some confused idea of being complimentary to Cornelia.
'But really,' pursued Mrs Blimber, 'I think if I could have known Cicero, and been his friend, and talked with him in his retirement at Tusculum (beau-ti-ful Tusculum!), I could have died contented.'
A learned enthusiasm is so very contagious, that Mr Dombey half believed this was exactly his case; and even Mrs Pipchin, who was not, as we have seen, of an accommodating disposition generally, gave utterance to a little sound between a groan and a sigh, as if she would have said that nobody but Cicero could have proved a lasting consolation under that failure of the Peruvian MInes, but that he indeed would have been a very Davy-lamp of refuge.
Cornelia looked at Mr Dombey through her spectacles, as if she would have liked to crack a few quotations with him from the authority in question. But this design, if she entertained it, was frustrated by a knock at the room-door.
'Who is that?' said the Doctor. 'Oh! Come in, Toots; come in. Mr Dombey, Sir.' Toots bowed. 'Quite a coincidence!' said Doctor Blimber. 'Here we have the beginning and the end. Alpha and Omega Our head boy, Mr Dombey.'
The Doctor might have called him their head and shoulders boy, for he was at least that much taller than any of the rest. He blushed very much at finding himself among strangers, and chuckled aloud.
'An addition to our little Portico, Toots,' said the Doctor; 'Mr Dombey's son.'
Young Toots blushed again; and finding, from a solemn silence which prevailed, that he was expected to say something, said to Paul, 'How are you?' in a voice so deep, and a manner so sheepish, that if a lamb had roared it couldn't have been more surprising.
'Ask Mr Feeder, if you please, Toots,' said the Doctor, 'to prepare a few introductory volumes for Mr Dombey's son, and to allot him a convenient seat for study. My dear, I believe Mr Dombey has not seen the dormitories.'
'If Mr Dombey will walk upstairs,' said Mrs Blimber, 'I shall be more than proud to show him the dominions of the drowsy god.'
With that, Mrs Blimber, who was a lady of great suavity, and a wiry figure, and who wore a cap composed of sky-blue materials, pied upstairs with Mr Dombey and Cornelia; Mrs Pipchin following, and looking out sharp for her enemy the footman.
While they were gone, Paul sat upon the table, holding Florence by the hand, and glancing timidly from the Doctor round and round the room, while the Doctor, leaning back in his chair, with his hand in his breast as usual, held a book from him at arm's length, and read. There was something very awful in this manner of reading. It was such a determined, unimpassioned, inflexible, cold-blooded way of going to work. It left the Doctor's countenance exposed to view; and when the Doctor smiled suspiciously at his author, or knit his brows, or shook his head and made wry faces at him, as much as to say, 'Don't tell me, Sir; I know better,' it was terrific.
Toots, too, had no business to be outside the door, ostentatiously examining the wheels in his watch, and counting his half-crowns. But that didn't last long; for Doctor Blimber, happening to change the position of his tight plump legs, as if he were going to get up, Toots swiftly vanished, and appeared no more.
Mr Dombey and his conductress were soon heard coming downstairs again, talking all the way; and presently they re-entered the Doctor's study.
'I hope, Mr Dombey,' said the Doctor, laying down his book, 'that the arrangements meet your approval.'
'They are excellent, Sir,' said Mr Dombey.
'Very fair, indeed,' said Mrs Pipchin, in a low voice; never disposed to give too much encouragement.
'Mrs Pipchin,' said Mr Dombey, wheeling round, 'will, with your permission, Doctor and Mrs Blimber, visit Paul now and then.'
'Whenever Mrs Pipchin pleases,' observed the Doctor.
'Always happy to see her,' said Mrs Blimber.
'I think,' said Mr Dombey, 'I have given all the trouble I need, and may take my leave. Paul, my child,' he went close to him, as he sat upon the table. 'Good-bye.'
'Good-bye, Papa.'
The limp and careless little hand that Mr Dombey took in his, was singularly out of keeping with the wistful face. But he had no part in its sorrowful expression. It was not addressed to him. No, no. To Florence - all to Florence.
If Mr Dombey in his insolence of wealth, had ever made an enemy, hard to appease and cruelly vindictive in his hate, even such an enemy might have received the pang that wrung his proud heart then, as compensation for his injury.
He bent down, over his boy, and kissed him. If his sight were dimmed as he did so, by something that for a moment blurred the little face, and made it indistinct to him, his mental vision may have been, for that short time, the clearer perhaps.
'I shall see you soon, Paul. You are free on Saturdays and Sundays, you know.'
'Yes, Papa,' returned Paul: looking at his sister. 'On Saturdays and Sundays.'
'And you'll try and learn a great deal here, and be a clever man,' said Mr Dombey; 'won't you?'
'I'll try,' returned the child, wearily.
'And you'll soon be grown up now!' said Mr Dombey.
'Oh! very soon!' replied the child. Once more the old, old look passed rapidly across his features like a strange light. It fell on Mrs Pipchin, and extinguished itself in her black dress. That excellent ogress stepped forward to take leave and to bear off Florence, which she had long been thirsting to do. The move on her part roused Mr Dombey, whose eyes were fixed on Paul. After patting him on the head, and pressing his small hand again, he took leave of Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber, with his usual polite frigidity, and walked out of the study.
Despite his entreaty that they would not think of stirring, Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber all pressed forward to attend him to the hall; and thus Mrs Pipchin got into a state of entanglement with Miss Blimber and the Doctor, and was crowded out of the study before she could clutch Florence. To which happy accident Paul stood afterwards indebted for the dear remembrance, that Florence ran back to throw her arms round his neck, and that hers was the last face in the doorway: turned towards him with a smile of encouragement, the brighter for the tears through which it beamed.
It made his childish bosom heave and swell when it was gone; and sent the globes, the books, blind Homer and Minerva, swimming round the room. But they stopped, all of a sudden; and then he heard the loud clock in the hall still gravely inquiring 'how, is, my, lit, tle, friend? how, is, my, lit, tle, friend?' as it had done before.
He sat, with folded hands, upon his pedestal, silently listening. But he might have answered 'weary, weary! very lonely, very sad!' And there, with an aching void in his young heart, and all outside so cold, and bare, and strange, Paul sat as if he had taken life unfurnished, and the upholsterer were never coming.

皮普钦太太的体质是由这样坚硬的金属做成的,它虽然难免身躯虚弱,需要在吃过排骨之后休息休息,也需要依赖小羊胰脏的催眠作用才能进入梦乡,但它使威肯姆大嫂的预言完全落了空,没有显露出衰老的任何症状。然而,由于保罗对这位老太太全神贯注的兴趣并没有减弱,所以威肯姆大嫂也不愿意从她原先的立场上后退一英寸。她以她舅舅的女儿贝特西•简为坚强后盾,挖掘壕沟,构筑要塞,防卫着自己的地段,因此她以一位朋友的身份劝告贝里小姐要为发生最坏的情况作好准备,并预先警告她,她的姑妈在任何时候都可能像火药厂一样突然爆炸。
可怜的贝里毫无恶感地接受了所有这些劝告,并跟往常一样,像奴隶一样拼命做着苦工;她完全相信,皮普钦太太是世界上最值得称颂的人之一,自愿作出无数牺牲,奉献给那位尊贵的老女人的祭坛。可是贝里所作出的所有这些牺牲却被皮普钦太太的朋友们与崇拜者们记为皮普钦太太的功劳,而且还跟那件令人伤感的事实——已故的皮普钦先生是在秘鲁的矿井伤心而死的——联系起来,认为两者是一脉相承的。
例如,有一位经营食品、杂货和一般零售业的诚实的商人,与皮普钦太太之间有一本油腻的红封面的小备忘录,它总是不断地引起争议;为了这一点,登记册涉及的各方经常在铺了席子的走廊里或在关着门的客厅里举行各种秘密的磋商与会议。比瑟斯通少爷(由于印度的太阳热对他的血液发生作用的缘故,因此他产生了一副爱报复的脾气)也屡次隐约地暗示,钱款收支不符,差额没有结清;他还记得,有一次喝茶的时候,没有供应潮湿的糖。这位商人是个单身汉,并不看重外表的漂亮,有一次规规矩矩地向贝里求婚,但皮普钦太太却傲慢无礼地刻薄挖苦他,把他的求婚给拒绝了。人人都说,皮普钦太太,一位死在秘鲁矿井的男子的遗孀,这样做是多么值得称赞,还说这位老太太有着多么坚强、高尚与独立的精神。可是对可怜的贝里却没有一个人说过一句话;她哭了六个星期(她善良的姑妈一直在严厉地斥责她),并落到一个绝望的老处女的处境。
“贝里很喜欢您,是不是?”有一次当他们和那只猫一起坐在炉旁的时候,保罗问皮普钦太太。
“是的,”皮普钦太太说道。
“为什么?”保罗问道。
“为什么!”心烦意乱的老太太回答道。“您怎么能问这样的事情,先生!您为什么喜欢您的姐姐弗洛伦斯?”
“因为她很好,”保罗说道,“没有什么人能像弗洛伦斯那样。”
“唔!”皮普钦太太简单地回答道。“那么也没有什么人能像我这样,我想。”
“难道真的没有吗?”保罗在椅子里向前欠身,很专注地看着她,问道。
“没有,”老太太说道。
“这使我很高兴,”保罗认真思考地搓搓手,说道。“这是件很好的事情。”
皮普钦太太不敢问他为什么,唯恐会得到一个完全使她陷入绝境的答复。可是,为了补偿她在感情上所受到的创伤,她把比瑟斯通少爷大大地折磨了一通,直到睡觉为止,因此他在当天夜里开始作出了由陆路回到印度去的安排,办法是吃晚饭的时候偷偷地藏起四分之一块面包和一小片潮湿的荷兰乳酪,就这样开始储存起旅途中所需的食品。
皮普钦太太对小保罗和他的姐姐看管、监护了将近十二个月。他们曾经回家去过两次,但只住了几天,每个星期照常总要到旅馆里去看望董贝先生。保罗虽然看去仍旧消瘦、虚弱,而且跟他当初被托付给皮普钦太太看管时一样,仍然同样是那个老气的、安静的、喜爱幻想的孩子,但他逐渐逐渐地强壮起来,不坐车也能出去走走了;在一个星期六的下午,已经是薄暮的时候,这里接到了一个事先没有预料到的通知:董贝先生要来拜访皮普钦太太,这在城堡中引起了极大的惊慌。客厅里的人们就像被旋风刮起来一般,飞快地被赶到了楼上;寝室的门被砰砰地关上,脚从孩子们的头踩踏过去,皮普钦太太又把比瑟斯通少爷接二连三地打了一阵,来减轻一下她精神上的焦虑不安;在这之后,这位可尊敬的老太太走进了接见室,她的黑色的邦巴辛毛葛衣服使室内的光线昏暗下来;董贝先生正在室内细心观察着他的儿子和继承人的空着的扶手椅子。
“皮普钦太太,”董贝先生说道,“您好吗?”
“谢谢您,先生,”皮普钦太太说道,“从多方面考虑来说,我还不错。”
皮普钦太太经常使用这样的措词。它的意思是,考虑到她的品德、牺牲等等。
“我不能指望我的身体非常好,先生,”皮普钦太太坐到一张椅子里,缓一口气;“但我能像现在这样的健康,我是感谢天主的。”
董贝先生露出顾主满意的神情,低下了头,他觉得这正是他每个季度付出这么多的钱所要得到的。在片刻的沉默之后,他往下说道:
“皮普钦太太,我冒昧地前来拜访,是想跟您商量一下我儿子的事。过去好些时候我就有意这样做了,但却一次又一次地推迟,为的是让他的健康完全恢复过来。您在这个问题上没有什么顾虑吧,皮普钦太太?”
“布赖顿看来是个有益于健康的地方,先生,”皮普钦太太回答道。“确实很有益。”
“我打算,”董贝先生说道,“让他继续留在布赖顿。”
皮普钦太太搓搓手,灰色的眼睛注视着炉火。
“但是,”董贝先生伸出食指,继续说道,“但是可能他现在应当有一点变化,在这里过一种完全不同的生活。总而言之,皮普钦太太,这就是我这次拜访的目的。我的儿子在成长,皮普钦太太。他确实在成长。”
董贝先生说这些话时的得意神情中有一些令人伤感的东西。它表明,保罗的童年生活对他是显得多么长久,同时他的希望是怎样寄托在他生命的较后阶段的。对于任何一位像这样傲慢这样冷酷的人来说,怜悯可能是一个无法与他联系起来的字眼,然而在目前这个时刻,他似乎正好是怜悯的很好的对象。
“六岁了!”董贝先生说道,一边整整领饰——也许是为了掩藏一个控制不住的微笑,那微笑似乎片刻也不想在他的脸上展现开来,而只是想在脸的表面一掠而过就消失不见,但却没有找到一个停落的地方。“哎呀!当我们还来不及向四周看看的时候,六岁就将转变成十六岁了。”
“十年,”毫无同情心的皮普钦用哭丧的声音说道,她那冷酷的灰色眼睛冷若冰霜地闪了一下光,低垂的头阴郁地摇晃了一下,“是很长的时间。”
“这取决于境况如何,”董贝先生回答道;“不管怎么样,皮普钦太太,我的儿子已经六岁了;我担心,跟他同样年龄或者说跟他同样处于少年时期的许多孩子相比,他在学习上毫无疑问已经落后了。”他迅速地回答了那只冷若冰霜的眼睛中发出的一道他觉得是狡狯的眼光,“跟他同样处于少年时期——这个说法更恰当。可是,皮普钦太太,我的儿子不能落在他的同辈人的后面,而应当超过他们,远远地超过他们。有一个高地正等待着他去攀登。在我的儿子的未来的生活路程中没有什么听凭机会摆布或存在疑问的东西。他的生活道路是没有障碍的,预先准备好的,在他出生之前就已经筹划定了的。这样一位年轻绅士的教育是不应该耽误的。不应该让它处于不完善的状态。它必须很坚定很认真地进行,皮普钦太太。”
“唔,先生,”皮普钦太太说道,“我不会有什么异议。”
“我完全相信,皮普钦太太,”董贝先生赞同地说道,“像您这样有卓越见识的人是不会,也不愿意有异议的。”
“现在人们谈论着各种乌七八糟的废话,——比废话还不如——,说什么对年轻人开始不要强迫得太厉害,而应当循循善诱,其他等等,先生,”皮普钦太太不耐烦地擦了擦她的钩鼻,说道,“在我做孩子的时候,从来没有这样一些想法。现在也用不着这样去想。我的意见是,‘强迫他们去做’。”
“我的好夫人,”董贝先生回答道,“您真是名不虚传;请您相信,皮普钦太太,我对您优良的管理制度非常满意;只要我不足挂齿的推荐意见能有什么用的话,我将会十分高兴来推荐它。”——当董贝先生假装贬低自己的重要性时,他的高傲是超越一切限度的——,“我一直在考虑布林伯博士的学校,皮普钦太太。”
“我的近邻吗,先生?”皮普钦太太说道。“我相信这位博士的学校是一所优秀的学校。我听说管理很严格,从早到晚除了学习不干别的。”
“而且费用很贵,”董贝先生补充道。
“而且费用很贵,”皮普钦太太回答道;她紧紧抓住这个事实,仿佛遗漏了这一点,她就遗漏了它的最主要的优点之一似的。
“我跟博士通过一些信,皮普钦太太,”董贝先生急忙把他的椅子向炉火拉近一点,说道,“他根本不认为保罗上他那里去年龄太小。他举例说明好几个跟他同年龄的孩子都在那里学习希腊语。如果我本人心中对这个变动的问题有什么小小的不安的话,皮普钦太太,那不是在那一方面。我的儿子生下来就失去了母爱,所以就把他好多(太多了)幼稚的感情逐渐倾注到他姐姐的身上,因此他们两人分离开来是否会——”董贝先生没有再说下去,而是沉默地坐着。
“哎呀,这算什么!”皮普钦太太抖动着她的黑色的拜巴辛毛葛的裙子,大声喊道,一边把她内心中恶魔般的性情全都显露出来。“如果她不喜欢这样,董贝先生,那么就得教她好歹忍着点。”这位善良的太太接着立刻对她采用这样粗俗的语言表示抱歉,但她说,这就是她跟他们论断事理的方法,这一点倒是真的。
皮普钦太太昂起头来,摇晃了两下,同时对着无数个比瑟斯通与潘基皱了皱眉头;董贝先生等待她把这些动作做完之后,平静地但是正确地说道,“我说的是他,我的好夫人,他。”
皮普钦太太的管理制度本可以很容易地把同样的治疗方法也应用到保罗身上任何不舒适的地方;但是那只冷酷的灰色眼睛十分敏锐地看出,尽管董贝先生可以允许这个处方在他的女儿身上发挥效力,但它却并不是医治他儿子的特效药;她认清了这一点,于是就解释说,环境的变化,新的社交场所,他在布林伯博士学校中所过的不同的生活方式以及他必须学会的课程,将很快就会把他的注意力充分转移了。由于这个意见与董贝先生自己的希望与看法是一致的,这就使得这位绅士对皮普钦太太的智慧有了更高的评价;由于皮普钦太太在这同时为失去她亲爱的小朋友而叹息(对她来说,这并不是一个使她不知所措的打击,因为她早就预料到这一点,一开始就没有指望他跟她待在一起的时间会超过三个月),所以他对皮普钦太太没有私心这一点也产生了同样良好的印象。显然,他对这个问题已经思前顾后地进行了考虑,因为他已经构想出一个计划,并把它通告给这位恶魔:头半年他把保罗送到博士的学校中去,作为一个每周在那里寄膳寄宿六天的学生,在这期间弗洛伦斯将留在城堡中,这样她可以在星期六把弟弟接到她那里去。董贝先生说,这样就将使他逐步地“断奶”;可能他曾回想起上一次他是没有经过逐步断奶的过程的。
董贝先生在结束会晤的时候,希望在他儿子在布赖顿学习期间,皮普钦太太仍保留她作为保罗的总管理人与监督员的职务。然后他吻吻保罗,跟弗洛伦斯握握手,看到比瑟斯通少爷露着气派庄严的衣领,拍拍潘基小姐的头,使她哭了起来(她身上的这个部位特别敏感,因为皮普钦太太习惯于用她的指关节来敲它,敲出声音来,就像敲桶一样);在这之后,他回到旅馆吃晚饭,并作出了决定:由于保罗已经长大,也长健康了,从今以后他就应该开始接受一个充实的教育过程,以便使他有能力担当起他将大显身手的职务;布林伯博士应当立即把他接到手里,负责对他进行指导。
每当一位年轻人被布林伯博士接到手里的时候,他可以毫无疑问地受到很紧的一握。博士只管理十位年轻人,但是按照最低的估计,他肚子里准备好的学问足够供应给一百个人享用。把这些学问供给这十位不幸的人狼吞虎咽,吃得饱饱的,既是他的职业,又是他的生活乐趣。
实际上,布林伯博士的学校是一个很大的温室,里面有一个催熟的器械在连续不停地运转。所有的孩子们都过早地成熟了。精神的青豌豆在圣诞节的时候就生产出来了;智力的龙须菜则全年都有。数学的醋栗(也是很酸的)在不合时令的季节中寻常无奇,它们藏身在布林伯博士栽培的灌木嫩枝之中。各色品种的希腊语与拉丁语蔬菜是在结霜冻冰的情况下,从孩子们干枯的细枝中采摘下来的。天性是完全无关紧要的。不管原来打算让一位年轻人结什么果实,布林伯博士不知怎么的都是让他按照规定的样式结出果实来。
这些全都是很有趣、很巧妙的,但催熟的制度也附带产生出它通常的一些缺点。早熟产品的滋味不是正味,它们也不好保存。而且,有一位鼻子发肿、头长得特别大的年轻人(他是这十个人当中年龄最大的一个,他“经受过了”一切),有一天突然停止生长,只是以一株茎杆的形式留在学校里。人们都说,博士对年轻的图茨搞得太过头了,当他开始留起连鬓胡子的时候,他却停止培育脑子了。
不管怎么样,年轻的图茨还是住在布林伯博士的学校里;他有极为粗哑的嗓音和极为可怜的智力;衬衫上插着饰针;背心口袋里装着一枚戒指,当学生们出去散步的时候,他就偷偷地把它带在小指头上;他经常一见钟情地爱上了培养苗木的年轻女工们,而她们连有没有他这个人都不知道;在就寝时间以后,他通过前面第三层楼左角上的窗子的小铁格子望着外面煤气灯照亮的世界,就像一个长得太大、在高空中坐得太久的天使。
博士是一位仪表堂堂的绅士,穿一套黑衣服,膝盖上有一根带子把下面的袜子系紧。他的秃头十分光亮;声音低沉;下巴是双层的,他刮胡子的时候怎么能刮进那些折缝中是件奇事。他还有一双小眼睛经常是半闭着的;一张嘴巴半开着,显出似笑非笑的样子,仿佛他在那时刚盘问过一个孩子,现在正等待着他亲自认罪。当博士把右手伸进上衣的胸口,另一只手搁在背后,脑袋几乎觉察不到地摇晃一下,向一位紧张不安的陌生人发表一些极为平淡无奇的意见的时候,他的那些意见就像是出自斯芬克斯①的金玉良言,并把他的事情给解决了。
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①斯芬克斯(sphynx):希腊神话中有翼的狮身女面怪物。
博士的学校是一座宏大的精美的房屋,面对着海。房屋里面的格调并不令人喜悦,而是恰恰相反。黯淡的窗帘粗陋、狭窄,垂头丧气地躲藏在窗子后面。桌子和椅子像算术题中的数字一样,一行一行地排列着;举行典礼的房间十分难得生火,因此它们觉得自己就像水井,来访的客人就像投进井中的水桶一样;餐厅似乎是世界上最后一个可以吃喝的地方;除了前厅里一只大钟滴嗒滴嗒的响声外,整个房屋里没有其他声音,而那只大钟走动的声音就连顶楼里也能听到;有时也传来年轻人上课时发出的低沉的喊声,就像一群忧郁的鸽子的咕咕声一样。
布林伯小姐虽然是一位苗条、优雅的姑娘,但也没有做任何事情破坏这房屋里的严肃气氛。轻浮的胡闹与布林伯小姐格格不入。她留着短而卷曲的头发,并戴着眼镜。她在已死去的语言的坟墓中挖掘着,所以皮肤干枯,表面是沙子的颜色。布林伯小姐不需要你们那些活的语言。她所需要的语言必须是死的——完全断了气的——,那时布林伯小姐才像食尸鬼一样,把它们挖掘出来。
她的妈妈布林伯夫人本人并没有学问,但是她却装出有学问的样子,而且装得还不坏。她在一些晚会上说,如果她能认识西塞罗①的话,那么她想她就能甘心满意地死去了。她的永不改变的生活乐趣就是看着博士手下的年轻的先生们,与其他年轻人不一样,敞开大得不能再大的衬衫领子,佩戴着硬得不能再硬的领带,出去散步。她说,那是古典式的。
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①西塞罗(MarcusTulliusCicero)(公元前106—43年):古罗马政治家、雄辩家和著作家。
至于布林格博士的助手、文学士菲德先生,他是一个人为的手摇风琴;他根据一份小小的曲调目录,一遍又一遍、毫无变化地演奏着。如果他的命运好的话,那么他可能在早年就装备好一个备用的手摇风琴;但是他的命运不好,他只有他本人这个手摇风琴,他的职业就是用这个单调的圆筒来迷糊博士手下的这些年轻的先生们的年轻的思想。这些年轻的先生们过早地操心、忧虑。铁石心肠的动词、残暴粗野的名词、毫不通融的句法,以及出现在他们梦中的练习的魔鬼在追赶着他们,使他们得不到休息;在催熟的制度下,一位年轻的先生通常在三个星期以后就失去了朝气;他在三个月以后就为世界上各种事情操心;他在四个月以后对他的父母和监护人怀着怨恨的情绪;他在五个月以后成了个老厌世者;他在六个月以后羡慕库尔提乌斯①幸运地遁身在地中;他在头十二个月末尾的时候得出结论:诗篇中的幻想和圣人的教训只不过是词与语法的汇集,在世界上没有其他意义;从此以后他就再也没有抛弃过这个结论。
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①库尔提乌斯(MarcusCurtius):据古罗马神话传说,公元前362年,罗马广场裂开一条无底深沟;预言师说,只有把罗马最宝贵的东西扔下去,裂缝才能重新合拢。这时年轻人库尔提乌斯宣称,没有什么能比一个勇敢的公民更可宝贵的了,于是他全副武装跳下了深沟。他刚一跳下,裂缝就立即重新合拢。后来这处地方变成了一片池塘,称为库尔提乌斯湖(LacusCurtius)。
可是他在博士的温室中一直继续生长着,生长着,生长着。当他把他冬天生长出的产品带回家中,呈现在他的亲友面前时,博士就得到了极大的光荣与声誉。
有一天,保罗怀着一颗忐忑不安的心,由他父亲握着小小的右手,站立在博士的门阶上。他的另一只手由弗洛论斯紧紧地握在她的手中。那只小手是握得多么紧,而另一只手是多么松驰与冷淡呵!
皮普钦太太像只凶鸟,长着乌黑的羽毛和钩状的喙,在他的牺牲品后面盘旋。因为董贝先生脑子里在思考重大的事情,走得很快,所以她走得上气不接下气;当等着开门的时候,她嘶哑地发出了哭丧的声音。
“保罗,”董贝先生喜不自胜地说道。“这就是真正通向董贝父子和有钱的道路。你几乎已成为一个大人了。”
“几乎,”孩子回答道。
即使是他那孩子的激动也不能控制他回答时伴随着的顽皮的、奇妙的但却令人感动的眼光。
它使董贝先生脸上露出了隐约的、不满的表情;但这时门开了,它很快就消失了。
“我想布林伯博士在家吧?”董贝先生说道。
那仆人说是的;当他们走进去的时候,他看着保罗,仿佛他是只小耗子,而那座房屋则仿佛是只捕鼠笼似的。他是一位弱视的青年,脸上露出一丝难以觉察的龇牙咧嘴的笑容或它最初闪出的一道微光。这仅仅是低能的表现而已;但皮普钦太太却凭空地认为这是无礼,所以就立刻恶狠狠地抓住了他。
“你怎么敢在有身份的先生背后发笑?”皮普钦太太说道。
“你又把我当作什么人?”
“我没有笑任何人;我还可以肯定,我没有把您小看了,夫人,”那位年轻人惊慌地回答道。
“一群吊儿郎当的懒狗!”皮普钦太太说,“只配去转动烤肉叉①!去告诉你的主人,董贝先生来了,要不你的结果就更糟!”
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①英国旧时社会中训练狗用踏车来转动烤肉叉。
那位弱视的年轻人十分温顺地离开去执行任务;不久就回来请他们到博士的书房里去。
“你又笑了,先生,”皮普钦太太笑道;她走在后面,这时从他身边穿过前厅。
“我没有笑,”被欺压得很痛苦的年轻人回答道。“我从来没有见到这样的事情!”
“怎么回事,皮普钦太太?”董贝先生回过头来看了一下,说道。“请轻一些!”
皮普钦太太出于对董贝先生的尊敬,走过的时候对那位年轻人只是咕哝了几声,同时说道,“啊,他是个宝贝家伙”,一边离开那位年轻人;那位年轻人是极为温顺和愚钝的,这件事情甚至使他伤心地掉了泪。可是皮普钦太太惯于欺压所有温顺的人们;她的朋友们说,在秘鲁矿井的事情发生之后,这有什么好奇怪的呢?
博士坐在他的奇特的书房中,每只膝盖上摆着一个地球仪,四周都是书籍,荷马①在门的上面,米涅瓦②在壁炉架上。“您好吗,先生?”他对董贝先生说道;“我的小朋友好吗?”
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①荷马(Homer):公元前10世纪前后的希腊盲诗人;《伊利亚特》及《奥德赛》两大著名史诗的作者。
②米涅瓦(Minerva):罗马神话中司智慧、学问、战争的女神。
博士的声音像风琴一样庄重沉着;当他停止讲话的时候,前厅中的大钟似乎(至少保罗觉得是这样)接着他的话,继续往下说道,“我,的,小,朋,友,好,吗?我,的,小,朋,友,好,吗?”一遍,一遍,又一遍地重复说着。
小朋友太小了,从博士坐着的地方,越过桌子上的书去看是看不见的;博士就试图通过桌腿去看他,但也是徒劳无益;董贝先生看到这一点,就把保罗抱起来,让他坐在房间中间面对着博士的另一张小桌子上,使博士摆脱了困难。
“哈!”博士把手伸进上衣的胸间,仰靠在椅子中说道。
“现在我看见我的小朋友了。您好吗,我的小朋友?”
前厅中的钟不赞同把词的组合形式进行这样的改变,继续重复说道,“我,的,小,朋,友,好,吗?我,的,小,朋,友,好,吗?”
“很好,谢谢您,先生,”保罗回答了博士,也回答了钟。
“哈!”布林伯博士说道。“我们将把他培养成一个大人吗?”
“你听到了吗,保罗?”董贝先生补充了一句。保罗默不作声。
“我们将把他培养成一个大人吗?”博士重复问道。
“我宁肯当个孩子,”保罗回答道。
“真的吗?”博士说道。“为什么?”
孩子坐在桌子上看着他,脸上露出了被压抑的情绪的奇怪表情,一边用一只手自豪地敲打着膝盖,仿佛眼泪已经在膝盖下面涌上来,他已把它们压下去了。但是在这同时,他的另一只手却向一边伸出去,伸出去——伸得更远一些——,一直伸到弗洛伦斯的脖子上。“这就是为什么,”它似乎这么说道;然后他那镇定沉着的神色改变了,消失了,颤动着的嘴唇松驰了,眼泪汪汪地滚流出来。
“皮普钦太太,”他的父亲抱怨地说道,“我实在很不高兴看到这一点。”
“离开他,董贝小姐,照我的话做,”那位女监管人说道。
“不要紧,”博士不动感情地点点头,让皮普钦太太回去。
“不要紧;我们将很快用新的关心与新的印象来代替,董贝先生,您还跟以前一样希望我的小朋友获得——”
“一切!劳驾您,博士,”董贝先生坚决地回答道。
“好的,”博士说道;他半闭着眼睛,露出了惯常的笑容,似乎以一种对他将要喂养的某个精选的小动物可能怀有的兴趣打量着保罗,“好,好极了。哈!我们将向我们的小朋友传授很多种知识,而且我敢说,使他迅速进步。完全是一块处女地,我想您曾经这样说过吧,董贝先生?”
“除了在家里以及从这位女士那里做过一些普通的准备之外,”董贝先生一边介绍皮普钦太太,一边回答道;皮普钦太太立刻让她的整个肌肉系统紧张起来,同时挑战地喷着鼻息,以防博士贬损她。“除了这些之外,保罗到现在为止,什么都还没有学习过。”
布林伯博士对皮普钦太太这种毫不足取的侵犯温和地表示容忍,低下头说道,他很高兴听到这一点。他搓搓手说,在这个基础上开始是非常令人满意的。然后他又斜眼瞅着保罗,仿佛他很想当场就跟他聊聊希腊字母似的。
“这样一种情况,布林伯博士,”董贝向他的小儿子看了一眼,继续说道,“加上我又有幸跟您进行过会晤,因此我确实就不必要再作进一步的说明来侵占您宝贵的时间了,所以——”
“好了,董贝小姐”!皮普钦尖刻地说道。
“请允许我再耽搁你们一会儿,”博士说道,“请允许我介绍一下布林伯夫人和我的女儿,她们将与我们前往帕纳萨斯①参拜的年轻人的家庭生活有关。这是布林伯夫人,”那位可能一直在等待着的夫人及时地走了进来,后面跟着她的女儿,那位戴着眼镜的美丽的掘墓的教堂司事②;“这是董贝先生。这是我的女儿科妮莉亚,董贝先生。我亲爱的,”博士转向他的妻子,继续说道,“董贝先生对我们十分信任,因此——你看到我们的小朋友了吗?”
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①帕纳萨斯(Parnassus):希腊中部的山峰,传说为太阳神阿波罗及诗神缪斯的灵地。
②教堂司事(Sexton):教堂司事,担任教堂内外管理、敲钟、墓地等工作,这里是把布林伯小姐比做一位“掘墓人”。
布林伯夫人原先只把董贝先生作为她那过分的礼貌的目标,显然没有看到这位小朋友,因为她背对着他,对他在桌子上的地位造成很大的危险。但是,她听到这句暗示的话以后,就转过身去欣赏他的面貌中古典的与智慧的特色,然后又转回来,叹了一口气,对董贝先生说,她羡慕他的亲爱的儿子。
“像一只蜜蜂一样,先生,”布林伯夫人抬起眼睛,说道,“就将飞进一个盛开着最美好的花朵的花园里,头一次去领略那芳甜的滋味。维吉尔①,贺拉斯②,奥维德③,泰伦斯④,普劳图斯⑤,西塞罗。我们这里拥有一个什么样的蜜的世界呀。董贝先生,一个妻子说这些话也许看来是令人惊异的,这样一位丈夫的妻子——”
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①维吉尔(拉丁语全名为PubliusVirgiliusMaro,英译名为Virgil,公元前70—19年):古罗马著名诗人。
②贺拉斯(拉丁语全名为QuintusHoratiusFlacus,英译名为Horace,公元前65—8年):古罗马著名诗人。
③奥维德(拉丁语全名为PubliusOvidiusNaso,英译名为Ovid,公元前48—17?年):古罗马著名诗人。
④泰伦斯(拉丁语全名为PubliusTerentiniusAfer,英译名为Terence,公元前186A185—159?年):古罗马著名喜剧作家。
⑤普劳图斯(拉丁语全名为TitusMaccusPlautus,英译名为Plautus,公元前254?—184年):古罗马著名喜剧作家。
“别说了,别说了,”布林伯博士说道。“真不害羞。”
“董贝先生会原谅一位妻子的偏心的,”布林伯夫人露着迷人的微笑,说道。
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 12
Paul's Education
After the lapse of some minutes, which appeared an immense time to little Paul Dombey on the table, Doctor Blimber came back. The Doctor's walk was stately, and calculated to impress the juvenile mind with solemn feelings. It was a sort of march; but when the Doctor put out his right foot, he gravely turned upon his axis, with a semi-circular sweep towards the left; and when he put out his left foot, he turned in the same manner towards the right. So that he seemed, at every stride he took, to look about him as though he were saying, 'Can anybody have the goodness to indicate any subject, in any direction, on which I am uninformed? I rather think not'
Mrs Blimber and Miss Blimber came back in the Doctor's company; and the Doctor, lifting his new pupil off the table, delivered him over to Miss Blimber.
'Cornelia,' said the Doctor, 'Dombey will be your charge at first. Bring him on, Cornelia, bring him on.'
Miss Blimber received her young ward from the Doctor's hands; and Paul, feeling that the spectacles were surveying him, cast down his eyes.
'How old are you, Dombey?' said Miss Blimber.
'Six,' answered Paul, wondering, as he stole a glance at the young lady, why her hair didn't grow long like Florence's, and why she was like a boy.
'How much do you know of your Latin Grammar, Dombey?' said Miss Blimber.
'None of it,' answered Paul. Feeling that the answer was a shock to Miss Blimber's sensibility, he looked up at the three faces that were looking down at him, and said:
'I have'n't been well. I have been a weak child. I couldn't learn a Latin Grammar when I was out, every day, with old Glubb. I wish you'd tell old Glubb to come and see me, if you please.'
'What a dreadfully low name' said Mrs Blimber. 'Unclassical to a degree! Who is the monster, child?'
'What monster?' inquired Paul.
'Glubb,' said Mrs Blimber, with a great disrelish.
'He's no more a monster than you are,' returned Paul.
'What!' cried the Doctor, in a terrible voice. 'Ay, ay, ay? Aha! What's that?'
Paul was dreadfully frightened; but still he made a stand for the absent Glubb, though he did it trembling.
'He's a very nice old man, Ma'am,' he said. 'He used to draw my couch. He knows all about the deep sea, and the fish that are in it, and the great monsters that come and lie on rocks in the sun, and dive into the water again when they're startled, blowing and splashing so, that they can be heard for miles. There are some creatures, said Paul, warming with his subject, 'I don't know how many yards long, and I forget their names, but Florence knows, that pretend to be in distress; and when a man goes near them, out of compassion, they open their great jaws, and attack him. But all he has got to do,' said Paul, boldly tendering this information to the very Doctor himself, 'is to keep on turning as he runs away, and then, as they turn slowly, because they are so long, and can't bend, he's sure to beat them. And though old Glubb don't know why the sea should make me think of my Mama that's dead, or what it is that it is always saying - always saying! he knows a great deal about it. And I wish,' the child concluded, with a sudden falling of his countenance, and failing in his animation, as he looked like one forlorn, upon the three strange faces, 'that you'd let old Glubb come here to see me, for I know him very well, and he knows me.
'Ha!' said the Doctor, shaking his head; 'this is bad, but study will do much.'
Mrs Blimber opined, with something like a shiver, that he was an unaccountable child; and, allowing for the difference of visage, looked at him pretty much as Mrs Pipchin had been used to do.
'Take him round the house, Cornelia,' said the Doctor, 'and familiarise him with his new sphere. Go with that young lady, Dombey.'
Dombey obeyed; giving his hand to the abstruse Cornelia, and looking at her sideways, with timid curiosity, as they went away together. For her spectacles, by reason of the glistening of the glasses, made her so mysterious, that he didn't know where she was looking, and was not indeed quite sure that she had any eyes at all behind them.
Cornelia took him first to the schoolroom, which was situated at the back of the hall, and was approached through two baize doors, which deadened and muffled the young gentlemen's voices. Here, there were eight young gentlemen in various stages of mental prostration, all very hard at work, and very grave indeed. Toots, as an old hand, had a desk to himself in one corner: and a magnificent man, of immense age, he looked, in Paul's young eyes, behind it.
Mr Feeder, B.A., who sat at another little desk, had his Virgil stop on, and was slowly grinding that tune to four young gentlemen. Of the remaining four, two, who grasped their foreheads convulsively, were engaged in solving mathematical problems; one with his face like a dirty window, from much crying, was endeavouring to flounder through a hopeless number of lines before dinner; and one sat looking at his task in stony stupefaction and despair - which it seemed had been his condition ever since breakfast time.
The appearance of a new boy did not create the sensation that might have been expected. Mr Feeder, B.A. (who was in the habit of shaving his head for coolness, and had nothing but little bristles on it), gave him a bony hand, and told him he was glad to see him - which Paul would have been very glad to have told him, if he could have done so with the least sincerity. Then Paul, instructed by Cornelia, shook hands with the four young gentlemen at Mr Feeder's desk; then with the two young gentlemen at work on the problems, who were very feverish; then with the young gentleman at work against time, who was very inky; and lastly with the young gentleman in a state of stupefaction, who was flabby and quite cold.
Paul having been already introduced to Toots, that pupil merely chuckled and breathed hard, as his custom was, and pursued the occupation in which he was engaged. It was not a severe one; for on account of his having 'gone through' so much (in more senses than one), and also of his having, as before hinted, left off blowing in his prime, Toots now had licence to pursue his own course of study: which was chiefly to write long letters to himself from persons of distinction, adds 'P. Toots, Esquire, Brighton, Sussex,' and to preserve them in his desk with great care.
These ceremonies passed, Cornelia led Paul upstairs to the top of the house; which was rather a slow journey, on account of Paul being obliged to land both feet on every stair, before he mounted another. But they reached their journey's end at last; and there, in a front room, looking over the wild sea, Cornelia showed him a nice little bed with white hangings, close to the window, on which there was already beautifully written on a card in round text - down strokes very thick, and up strokes very fine - DOMBEY; while two other little bedsteads in the same room were announced, through like means, as respectively appertaining unto BRIGGS and TOZER.
Just as they got downstairs again into the hall, Paul saw the weak-eyed young man who had given that mortal offence to Mrs Pipchin, suddenly seize a very large drumstick, and fly at a gong that was hanging up, as if he had gone mad, or wanted vengeance. Instead of receiving warning, however, or being instantly taken into custody, the young man left off unchecked, after having made a dreadful noise. Then Cornelia Blimber said to Dombey that dinner would be ready in a quarter of an hour, and perhaps he had better go into the schoolroom among his 'friends.'
So Dombey, deferentially passing the great clock which was still as anxious as ever to know how he found himself, opened the schoolroom door a very little way, and strayed in like a lost boy: shutting it after him with some difficulty. His friends were all dispersed about the room except the stony friend, who remained immoveable. Mr Feeder was stretching himself in his grey gown, as if, regardless of expense, he were resolved to pull the sleeves off.
'Heigh ho hum!' cried Mr Feeder, shaking himself like a cart-horse. 'Oh dear me, dear me! Ya-a-a-ah!'
Paul was quite alarmed by Mr Feeder's yawning; it was done on such a great scale, and he was so terribly in earnest. All the boys too (Toots excepted) seemed knocked up, and were getting ready for dinner - some newly tying their neckcloths, which were very stiff indeed; and others washing their hands or brushing their hair, in an adjoining ante-chamber - as if they didn't think they should enjoy it at all.
Young Toots who was ready beforehand, and had therefore nothing to do, and had leisure to bestow upon Paul, said, with heavy good nature:
'Sit down, Dombey.'
'Thank you, Sir,' said Paul.
His endeavouring to hoist himself on to a very high window-seat, and his slipping down again, appeared to prepare Toots's mind for the reception of a discovery.
'You're a very small chap;' said Mr Toots.
'Yes, Sir, I'm small,' returned Paul. 'Thank you, Sir.'
For Toots had lifted him into the seat, and done it kindly too.
'Who's your tailor?' inquired Toots, after looking at him for some moments.
'It's a woman that has made my clothes as yet,' said Paul. 'My sister's dressmaker.'
'My tailor's Burgess and Co.,' said Toots. 'Fash'nable. But very dear.'
Paul had wit enough to shake his head, as if he would have said it was easy to see that; and indeed he thought so.
'Your father's regularly rich, ain't he?' inquired Mr Toots.
'Yes, Sir,' said Paul. 'He's Dombey and Son.'
'And which?' demanded Toots.
'And Son, Sir,' replied Paul.
Mr Toots made one or two attempts, in a low voice, to fix the Firm in his mind; but not quite succeeding, said he would get Paul to mention the name again to-morrow morning, as it was rather important. And indeed he purposed nothing less than writing himself a private and confidential letter from Dombey and Son immediately.
By this time the other pupils (always excepting the stony boy) gathered round. They were polite, but pale; and spoke low; and they were so depressed in their spirits, that in comparison with the general tone of that company, Master Bitherstone was a perfect Miller, or complete Jest Book.' And yet he had a sense of injury upon him, too, had Bitherstone.
'You sleep in my room, don't you?' asked a solemn young gentleman, whose shirt-collar curled up the lobes of his ears.
'Master Briggs?' inquired Paul.
'Tozer,' said the young gentleman.
Paul answered yes; and Tozer pointing out the stony pupil, said that was Briggs. Paul had already felt certain that it must be either Briggs or Tozer, though he didn't know why.
'Is yours a strong constitution?' inquired Tozer.
Paul said he thought not. Tozer replied that he thought not also, judging from Paul's looks, and that it was a pity, for it need be. He then asked Paul if he were going to begin with Cornelia; and on Paul saying 'yes,' all the young gentlemen (Briggs excepted) gave a low groan.
It was drowned in the tintinnabulation of the gong, which sounding again with great fury, there was a general move towards the dining-room; still excepting Briggs the stony boy, who remained where he was, and as he was; and on its way to whom Paul presently encountered a round of bread, genteelly served on a plate and napkin, and with a silver fork lying crosswise on the top of it.
Doctor Blimber was already in his place in the dining-room, at the top of the table, with Miss Blimber and Mrs Blimber on either side of him. Mr Feeder in a black coat was at the bottom. Paul's chair was next to Miss Blimber; but it being found, when he sat in it, that his eyebrows were not much above the level of the table-cloth, some books were brought in from the Doctor's study, on which he was elevated, and on which he always sat from that time - carrying them in and out himself on after occasions, like a little elephant and castle.'
Grace having been said by the Doctor, dinner began. There was some nice soup; also roast meat, boiled meat, vegetables, pie, and cheese. Every young gentleman had a massive silver fork, and a napkin; and all the arrangements were stately and handsome. In particular, there was a butler in a blue coat and bright buttons, who gave quite a winey flavour to the table beer; he poured it out so superbly.
Nobody spoke, unless spoken to, except Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber, who conversed occasionally. Whenever a young gentleman was not actually engaged with his knife and fork or spoon, his eye, with an irresistible attraction, sought the eye of Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, or Miss Blimber, and modestly rested there. Toots appeared to be the only exception to this rule. He sat next Mr Feeder on Paul's side of the table, and frequently looked behind and before the intervening boys to catch a glimpse of Paul.
Only once during dinner was there any conversation that included the young gentlemen. It happened at the epoch of the cheese, when the Doctor, having taken a glass of port wine, and hemmed twice or thrice, said:
'It is remarkable, Mr Feeder, that the Romans - '
At the mention of this terrible people, their implacable enemies, every young gentleman fastened his gaze upon the Doctor, with an assumption of the deepest interest. One of the number who happened to be drinking, and who caught the Doctor's eye glaring at him through the side of his tumbler, left off so hastily that he was convulsed for some moments, and in the sequel ruined Doctor Blimber's point.
'It is remarkable, Mr Feeder,' said the Doctor, beginning again slowly, 'that the Romans, in those gorgeous and profuse entertainments of which we read in the days of the Emperors, when luxury had attained a height unknown before or since, and when whole provinces were ravaged to supply the splendid means of one Imperial Banquet - '
Here the offender, who had been swelling and straining, and waiting in vain for a full stop, broke out violently.
'Johnson,' said Mr Feeder, in a low reproachful voice, 'take some water.'
The Doctor, looking very stern, made a pause until the water was brought, and then resumed:
'And when, Mr Feeder - '
But Mr Feeder, who saw that Johnson must break out again, and who knew that the Doctor would never come to a period before the young gentlemen until he had finished all he meant to say, couldn't keep his eye off Johnson; and thus was caught in the fact of not looking at the Doctor, who consequently stopped.
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Mr Feeder, reddening. 'I beg your pardon, Doctor Blimber.'
'And when,' said the Doctor, raising his voice, 'when, Sir, as we read, and have no reason to doubt - incredible as it may appear to the vulgar - of our time - the brother of Vitellius prepared for him a feast, in which were served, of fish, two thousand dishes - '
'Take some water, Johnson - dishes, Sir,' said Mr Feeder.
'Of various sorts of fowl, five thousand dishes.'
'Or try a crust of bread,' said Mr Feeder.
'And one dish,' pursued Doctor Blimber, raising his voice still higher as he looked all round the table, 'called, from its enormous dimensions, the Shield of Minerva, and made, among other costly ingredients, of the brains of pheasants - '
'Ow, ow, ow!' (from Johnson.)
'Woodcocks - '
'Ow, ow, ow!'
'The sounds of the fish called scari - '
'You'll burst some vessel in your head,' said Mr Feeder. 'You had better let it come.'
'And the spawn of the lamprey, brought from the Carpathian Sea,' pursued the Doctor, in his severest voice; 'when we read of costly entertainments such as these, and still remember, that we have a Titus - '
'What would be your mother's feelings if you died of apoplexy!' said Mr Feeder.
'A Domitian - '
'And you're blue, you know,' said Mr Feeder.
'A Nero, a Tiberius, a Caligula, a Heliogabalus, and many more, pursued the Doctor; 'it is, Mr Feeder - if you are doing me the honour to attend - remarkable; VERY remarkable, Sir - '
But Johnson, unable to suppress it any longer, burst at that moment into such an overwhelming fit of coughing, that although both his immediate neighbours thumped him on the back, and Mr Feeder himself held a glass of water to his lips, and the butler walked him up and down several times between his own chair and the sideboard, like a sentry, it was a full five minutes before he was moderately composed. Then there was a profound silence.
'Gentlemen,' said Doctor Blimber, 'rise for Grace! Cornelia, lift Dombey down' - nothing of whom but his scalp was accordingly seen above the tablecloth. 'Johnson will repeat to me tomorrow morning before breakfast, without book, and from the Greek Testament, the first chapter of the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Ephesians. We will resume our studies, Mr Feeder, in half-an-hour.'
The young gentlemen bowed and withdrew. Mr Feeder did likewise. During the half-hour, the young gentlemen, broken into pairs, loitered arm-in-arm up and down a small piece of ground behind the house, or endeavoured to kindle a spark of animation in the breast of Briggs. But nothing happened so vulgar as play. Punctually at the appointed time, the gong was sounded, and the studies, under the joint auspices of Doctor Blimber and Mr Feeder, were resumed.
As the Olympic game of lounging up and down had been cut shorter than usual that day, on Johnson's account, they all went out for a walk before tea. Even Briggs (though he hadn't begun yet) partook of this dissipation; in the enjoyment of which he looked over the cliff two or three times darkly. Doctor Blimber accompanied them; and Paul had the honour of being taken in tow by the Doctor himself: a distinguished state of things, in which he looked very little and feeble.
Tea was served in a style no less polite than the dinner; and after tea, the young gentlemen rising and bowing as before, withdrew to fetch up the unfinished tasks of that day, or to get up the already looming tasks of to-morrow. In the meantime Mr Feeder withdrew to his own room; and Paul sat in a corner wondering whether Florence was thinking of him, and what they were all about at Mrs Pipchin's.
Mr Toots, who had been detained by an important letter from the Duke of Wellington, found Paul out after a time; and having looked at him for a long while, as before, inquired if he was fond of waistcoats.
Paul said 'Yes, Sir.'
'So am I,' said Toots.
No word more spoke Toots that night; but he stood looking at Paul as if he liked him; and as there was company in that, and Paul was not inclined to talk, it answered his purpose better than conversation.
At eight o'clock or so, the gong sounded again for prayers in the dining-room, where the butler afterwards presided over a side-table, on which bread and cheese and beer were spread for such young gentlemen as desired to partake of those refreshments. The ceremonies concluded by the Doctor's saying, 'Gentlemen, we will resume our studies at seven to-morrow;' and then, for the first time, Paul saw Cornelia Blimber's eye, and saw that it was upon him. When the Doctor had said these words, 'Gentlemen, we will resume our studies at seven tomorrow,' the pupils bowed again, and went to bed.
In the confidence of their own room upstairs, Briggs said his head ached ready to split, and that he should wish himself dead if it wasn't for his mother, and a blackbird he had at home Tozer didn't say much, but he sighed a good deal, and told Paul to look out, for his turn would come to-morrow. After uttering those prophetic words, he undressed himself moodily, and got into bed. Briggs was in his bed too, and Paul in his bed too, before the weak-eyed young man appeared to take away the candle, when he wished them good-night and pleasant dreams. But his benevolent wishes were in vain, as far as Briggs and Tozer were concerned; for Paul, who lay awake for a long while, and often woke afterwards, found that Briggs was ridden by his lesson as a nightmare: and that Tozer, whose mind was affected in his sleep by similar causes, in a minor degree talked unknown tongues, or scraps of Greek and Latin - it was all one to Paul- which, in the silence of night, had an inexpressibly wicked and guilty effect.
Paul had sunk into a sweet sleep, and dreamed that he was walking hand in hand with Florence through beautiful gardens, when they came to a large sunflower which suddenly expanded itself into a gong, and began to sound. Opening his eyes, he found that it was a dark, windy morning, with a drizzling rain: and that the real gong was giving dreadful note of preparation, down in the hall.
So he got up directly, and found Briggs with hardly any eyes, for nightmare and grief had made his face puffy, putting his boots on: while Tozer stood shivering and rubbing his shoulders in a very bad humour. Poor Paul couldn't dress himself easily, not being used to it, and asked them if they would have the goodness to tie some strings for him; but as Briggs merely said 'Bother!' and Tozer, 'Oh yes!' he went down when he was otherwise ready, to the next storey, where he saw a pretty young woman in leather gloves, cleaning a stove. The young woman seemed surprised at his appearance, and asked him where his mother was. When Paul told her she was dead, she took her gloves off, and did what he wanted; and furthermore rubbed his hands to warm them; and gave him a kiss; and told him whenever he wanted anything of that sort - meaning in the dressing way - to ask for 'Melia; which Paul, thanking her very much, said he certainly would. He then proceeded softly on his journey downstairs, towards the room in which the young gentlemen resumed their studies, when, passing by a door that stood ajar, a voice from within cried, 'Is that Dombey?' On Paul replying, 'Yes, Ma'am:' for he knew the voice to be Miss Blimber's: Miss Blimber said, 'Come in, Dombey.' And in he went. Miss Blimber presented exactly the appearance she had presented yesterday, except that she wore a shawl. Her little light curls were as crisp as ever, and she had already her spectacles on, which made Paul wonder whether she went to bed in them. She had a cool little sitting-room of her own up there, with some books in it, and no fire But Miss Blimber was never cold, and never sleepy.
Now, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, 'I am going out for a constitutional.'
Paul wondered what that was, and why she didn't send the footman out to get it in such unfavourable weather. But he made no observation on the subject: his attention being devoted to a little pile of new books, on which Miss Blimber appeared to have been recently engaged.
'These are yours, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber.
'All of 'em, Ma'am?' said Paul.
'Yes,' returned Miss Blimber; 'and Mr Feeder will look you out some more very soon, if you are as studious as I expect you will be, Dombey.'
'Thank you, Ma'am,' said Paul.
'I am going out for a constitutional,' resumed Miss Blimber; 'and while I am gone, that is to say in the interval between this and breakfast, Dombey, I wish you to read over what I have marked in these books, and to tell me if you quite understand what you have got to learn. Don't lose time, Dombey, for you have none to spare, but take them downstairs, and begin directly.'
'Yes, Ma'am,' answered Paul.
There were so many of them, that although Paul put one hand under the bottom book and his other hand and his chin on the top book, and hugged them all closely, the middle book slipped out before he reached the door, and then they all tumbled down on the floor. Miss Blimber said, 'Oh, Dombey, Dombey, this is really very careless!' and piled them up afresh for him; and this time, by dint of balancing them with great nicety, Paul got out of the room, and down a few stairs before two of them escaped again. But he held the rest so tight, that he only left one more on the first floor, and one in the passage; and when he had got the main body down into the schoolroom, he set off upstairs again to collect the stragglers. Having at last amassed the whole library, and climbed into his place, he fell to work, encouraged by a remark from Tozer to the effect that he 'was in for it now;' which was the only interruption he received till breakfast time. At that meal, for which he had no appetite, everything was quite as solemn and genteel as at the others; and when it was finished, he followed Miss Blimber upstairs.
'Now, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber. 'How have you got on with those books?'
They comprised a little English, and a deal of Latin - names of things, declensions of articles and substantives, exercises thereon, and preliminary rules - a trifle of orthography, a glance at ancient history, a wink or two at modern ditto, a few tables, two or three weights and measures, and a little general information. When poor Paul had spelt out number two, he found he had no idea of number one; fragments whereof afterwards obtruded themselves into number three, which slided into number four, which grafted itself on to number two. So that whether twenty Romuluses made a Remus, or hic haec hoc was troy weight, or a verb always agreed with an ancient Briton, or three times four was Taurus a bull, were open questions with him.
'Oh, Dombey, Dombey!' said Miss Blimber, 'this is very shocking.'
'If you please,' said Paul, 'I think if I might sometimes talk a little to old Glubb, I should be able to do better.'
'Nonsense, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber. 'I couldn't hear of it. This is not the place for Glubbs of any kind. You must take the books down, I suppose, Dombey, one by one, and perfect yourself in the day's instalment of subject A, before you turn at all to subject B. I am sorry to say, Dombey, that your education appears to have been very much neglected.'
'So Papa says,' returned Paul; 'but I told you - I have been a weak child. Florence knows I have. So does Wickam.'
'Who is Wickam?' asked Miss Blimber.
'She has been my nurse,' Paul answered.
'I must beg you not to mention Wickam to me, then,' said Miss Blimber.'I couldn't allow it'.
'You asked me who she was,' said Paul.
'Very well,' returned Miss Blimber; 'but this is all very different indeed from anything of that sort, Dombey, and I couldn't think of permitting it. As to having been weak, you must begin to be strong. And now take away the top book, if you please, Dombey, and return when you are master of the theme.'
Miss Blimber expressed her opinions on the subject of Paul's uninstructed state with a gloomy delight, as if she had expected this result, and were glad to find that they must be in constant communication. Paul withdrew with the top task, as he was told, and laboured away at it, down below: sometimes remembering every word of it, and sometimes forgetting it all, and everything else besides: until at last he ventured upstairs again to repeat the lesson, when it was nearly all driven out of his head before he began, by Miss Blimber's shutting up the book, and saying, 'Good, Dombey!' a proceeding so suggestive of the knowledge inside of her, that Paul looked upon the young lady with consternation, as a kind of learned Guy Faux, or artificial Bogle, stuffed full of scholastic straw.
He acquitted himself very well, nevertheless; and Miss Blimber, commending him as giving promise of getting on fast, immediately provided him with subject B; from which he passed to C, and even D before dinner. It was hard work, resuming his studies, soon after dinner; and he felt giddy and confused and drowsy and dull. But all the other young gentlemen had similar sensations, and were obliged to resume their studies too, if there were any comfort in that. It was a wonder that the great clock in the hall, instead of being constant to its first inquiry, never said, 'Gentlemen, we will now resume our studies,' for that phrase was often enough repeated in its neighbourhood. The studies went round like a mighty wheel, and the young gentlemen were always stretched upon it.
After tea there were exercises again, and preparations for next day by candlelight. And in due course there was bed; where, but for that resumption of the studies which took place in dreams, were rest and sweet forgetfulness.
Oh Saturdays! Oh happy Saturdays, when Florence always came at noon, and never would, in any weather, stay away, though Mrs Pipchin snarled and growled, and worried her bitterly. Those Saturdays were Sabbaths for at least two little Christians among all the Jews, and did the holy Sabbath work of strengthening and knitting up a brother's and a sister's love.
Not even Sunday nights - the heavy Sunday nights, whose shadow darkened the first waking burst of light on Sunday mornings - could mar those precious Saturdays. Whether it was the great sea-shore, where they sat, and strolled together; or whether it was only Mrs Pipchin's dull back room, in which she sang to him so softly, with his drowsy head upon her arm; Paul never cared. It was Florence. That was all he thought of. So, on Sunday nights, when the Doctor's dark door stood agape to swallow him up for another week, the time was come for taking leave of Florence; no one else.
Mrs Wickam had been drafted home to the house in town, and Miss Nipper, now a smart young woman, had come down. To many a single combat with Mrs Pipchin, did Miss Nipper gallantly devote herself, and if ever Mrs Pipchin in all her life had found her match, she had found it now. Miss Nipper threw away the scabbard the first morning she arose in Mrs Pipchin's house. She asked and gave no quarter. She said it must be war, and war it was; and Mrs Pipchin lived from that time in the midst of surprises, harassings, and defiances, and skirmishing attacks that came bouncing in upon her from the passage, even in unguarded moments of chops, and carried desolation to her very toast.
Miss Nipper had returned one Sunday night with Florence, from walking back with Paul to the Doctor's, when Florence took from her bosom a little piece of paper, on which she had pencilled down some words.
'See here, Susan,' she said. 'These are the names of the little books that Paul brings home to do those long exercises with, when he is so tired. I copied them last night while he was writing.'
'Don't show 'em to me, Miss Floy, if you please,' returned Nipper, 'I'd as soon see Mrs Pipchin.'
'I want you to buy them for me, Susan, if you will, tomorrow morning. I have money enough,' said Florence.
'Why, goodness gracious me, Miss Floy,' returned Miss Nipper, 'how can you talk like that, when you have books upon books already, and masterses and mississes a teaching of you everything continual, though my belief is that your Pa, Miss Dombey, never would have learnt you nothing, never would have thought of it, unless you'd asked him - when he couldn't well refuse; but giving consent when asked, and offering when unasked, Miss, is quite two things; I may not have my objections to a young man's keeping company with me, and when he puts the question, may say "yes," but that's not saying "would you be so kind as like me."'
'But you can buy me the books, Susan; and you will, when you know why I want them.'
'Well, Miss, and why do you want 'em?' replied Nipper; adding, in a lower voice, 'If it was to fling at Mrs Pipchin's head, I'd buy a cart-load.'
'Paul has a great deal too much to do, Susan,' said Florence, 'I am sure of it.'
'And well you may be, Miss,' returned her maid, 'and make your mind quite easy that the willing dear is worked and worked away. If those is Latin legs,' exclaimed Miss Nipper, with strong feeling - in allusion to Paul's; 'give me English ones.'
'I am afraid he feels lonely and lost at Doctor Blimber's, Susan,' pursued Florence, turning away her face.
'Ah,' said Miss Nipper, with great sharpness, 'Oh, them "Blimbers"'
'Don't blame anyone,' said Florence. 'It's a mistake.'
'I say nothing about blame, Miss,' cried Miss Nipper, 'for I know that you object, but I may wish, Miss, that the family was set to work to make new roads, and that Miss Blimber went in front and had the pickaxe.'
After this speech, Miss Nipper, who was perfectly serious, wiped her eyes.
'I think I could perhaps give Paul some help, Susan, if I had these books,' said Florence, 'and make the coming week a little easier to him. At least I want to try. So buy them for me, dear, and I will never forget how kind it was of you to do it!'
It must have been a harder heart than Susan Nipper's that could have rejected the little purse Florence held out with these words, or the gentle look of entreaty with which she seconded her petition. Susan put the purse in her pocket without reply, and trotted out at once upon her errand.
The books were not easy to procure; and the answer at several shops was, either that they were just out of them, or that they never kept them, or that they had had a great many last month, or that they expected a great many next week But Susan was not easily baffled in such an enterprise; and having entrapped a white-haired youth, in a black calico apron, from a library where she was known, to accompany her in her quest, she led him such a life in going up and down, that he exerted himself to the utmost, if it were only to get rid of her; and finally enabled her to return home in triumph.
With these treasures then, after her own daily lessons were over, Florence sat down at night to track Paul's footsteps through the thorny ways of learning; and being possessed of a naturally quick and sound capacity, and taught by that most wonderful of masters, love, it was not long before she gained upon Paul's heels, and caught and passed him.
Not a word of this was breathed to Mrs Pipchin: but many a night when they were all in bed, and when Miss Nipper, with her hair in papers and herself asleep in some uncomfortable attitude, reposed unconscious by her side; and when the chinking ashes in the grate were cold and grey; and when the candles were burnt down and guttering out; - Florence tried so hard to be a substitute for one small Dombey, that her fortitude and perseverance might have almost won her a free right to bear the name herself.
And high was her reward, when one Saturday evening, as little Paul was sitting down as usual to 'resume his studies,' she sat down by his side, and showed him all that was so rough, made smooth, and all that was so dark, made clear and plain, before him. It was nothing but a startled look in Paul's wan face - a flush - a smile - and then a close embrace - but God knows how her heart leapt up at this rich payment for her trouble.
'Oh, Floy!' cried her brother, 'how I love you! How I love you, Floy!'
'And I you, dear!'
'Oh! I am sure of that, Floy.'
He said no more about it, but all that evening sat close by her, very quiet; and in the night he called out from his little room within hers, three or four times, that he loved her.
Regularly, after that, Florence was prepared to sit down with Paul on Saturday night, and patiently assist him through so much as they could anticipate together of his next week's work. The cheering thought that he was labouring on where Florence had just toiled before him, would, of itself, have been a stimulant to Paul in the perpetual resumption of his studies; but coupled with the actual lightening of his load, consequent on this assistance, it saved him, possibly, from sinking underneath the burden which the fair Cornelia Blimber piled upon his back.
It was not that Miss Blimber meant to be too hard upon him, or that Doctor Blimber meant to bear too heavily on the young gentlemen in general. Cornelia merely held the faith in which she had been bred; and the Doctor, in some partial confusion of his ideas, regarded the young gentlemen as if they were all Doctors, and were born grown up. Comforted by the applause of the young gentlemen's nearest relations, and urged on by their blind vanity and ill-considered haste, it would have been strange if Doctor Blimber had discovered his mistake, or trimmed his swelling sails to any other tack.
Thus in the case of Paul. When Doctor Blimber said he made great progress and was naturally clever, Mr Dombey was more bent than ever on his being forced and crammed. In the case of Briggs, when Doctor Blimber reported that he did not make great progress yet, and was not naturally clever, Briggs senior was inexorable in the same purpose. In short, however high and false the temperature at which the Doctor kept his hothouse, the owners of the plants were always ready to lend a helping hand at the bellows, and to stir the fire.
Such spirits as he had in the outset, Paul soon lost of course. But he retained all that was strange, and old, and thoughtful in his character: and under circumstances so favourable to the development of those tendencies, became even more strange, and old, and thoughtful, than before.
The only difference was, that he kept his character to himself. He grew more thoughtful and reserved, every day; and had no such curiosity in any living member of the Doctor's household, as he had had in Mrs Pipchin. He loved to be alone; and in those short intervals when he was not occupied with his books, liked nothing so well as wandering about the house by himself, or sitting on the stairs, listening to the great clock in the hall. He was intimate with all the paperhanging in the house; saw things that no one else saw in the patterns; found out miniature tigers and lions running up the bedroom walls, and squinting faces leering in the squares and diamonds of the floor-cloth.
The solitary child lived on, surrounded by this arabesque work of his musing fancy, and no one understood him. Mrs Blimber thought him 'odd,' and sometimes the servants said among themselves that little Dombey 'moped;' but that was all.
Unless young Toots had some idea on the subject, to the expression of which he was wholly unequal. Ideas, like ghosts (according to the common notion of ghosts), must be spoken to a little before they will explain themselves; and Toots had long left off asking any questions of his own mind. Some mist there may have been, issuing from that leaden casket, his cranium, which, if it could have taken shape and form, would have become a genie; but it could not; and it only so far followed the example of the smoke in the Arabian story, as to roll out in a thick cloud, and there hang and hover. But it left a little figure visible upon a lonely shore, and Toots was always staring at it.
'How are you?' he would say to Paul, fifty times a day. 'Quite well, Sir, thank you,' Paul would answer. 'Shake hands,' would be Toots's next advance.
Which Paul, of course, would immediately do. Mr Toots generally said again, after a long interval of staring and hard breathing, 'How are you?' To which Paul again replied, 'Quite well, Sir, thank you.'
One evening Mr Toots was sitting at his desk, oppressed by correspondence, when a great purpose seemed to flash upon him. He laid down his pen, and went off to seek Paul, whom he found at last, after a long search, looking through the window of his little bedroom.
'I say!' cried Toots, speaking the moment he entered the room, lest he should forget it; 'what do you think about?'
'Oh! I think about a great many things,' replied Paul.
'Do you, though?' said Toots, appearing to consider that fact in itself surprising. 'If you had to die,' said Paul, looking up into his face - Mr Toots started, and seemed much disturbed.
'Don't you think you would rather die on a moonlight night, when the sky was quite clear, and the wind blowing, as it did last night?'
Mr Toots said, looking doubtfully at Paul, and shaking his head, that he didn't know about that.
'Not blowing, at least,' said Paul, 'but sounding in the air like the sea sounds in the shells. It was a beautiful night. When I had listened to the water for a long time, I got up and looked out. There was a boat over there, in the full light of the moon; a boat with a sail.'
The child looked at him so steadfastly, and spoke so earnestly, that Mr Toots, feeling himself called upon to say something about this boat, said, 'Smugglers.' But with an impartial remembrance of there being two sides to every question, he added, 'or Preventive.'
'A boat with a sail,' repeated Paul, 'in the full light of the moon. The sail like an arm, all silver. It went away into the distance, and what do you think it seemed to do as it moved with the waves?'
'Pitch,' said Mr Toots.
'It seemed to beckon,' said the child, 'to beckon me to come! - There she is! There she is!'
Toots was almost beside himself with dismay at this sudden exclamation, after what had gone before, and cried 'Who?'
'My sister Florence!' cried Paul, 'looking up here, and waving her hand. She sees me - she sees me! Good-night, dear, good-night, good-night.'
His quick transition to a state of unbounded pleasure, as he stood at his window, kissing and clapping his hands: and the way in which the light retreated from his features as she passed out of his view, and left a patient melancholy on the little face: were too remarkable wholly to escape even Toots's notice. Their interview being interrupted at this moment by a visit from Mrs Pipchin, who usually brought her black skirts to bear upon Paul just before dusk, once or twice a week, Toots had no opportunity of improving the occasion: but it left so marked an impression on his mind that he twice returned, after having exchanged the usual salutations, to ask Mrs Pipchin how she did. This the irascible old lady conceived to be a deeply devised and long-meditated insult, originating in the diabolical invention of the weak-eyed young man downstairs, against whom she accordingly lodged a formal complaint with Doctor Blimber that very night; who mentioned to the young man that if he ever did it again, he should be obliged to part with him.
The evenings being longer now, Paul stole up to his window every evening to look out for Florence. She always passed and repassed at a certain time, until she saw him; and their mutual recognition was a gleam of sunshine in Paul's daily life. Often after dark, one other figure walked alone before the Doctor's house. He rarely joined them on the Saturdays now. He could not bear it. He would rather come unrecognised, and look up at the windows where his son was qualifying for a man; and wait, and watch, and plan, and hope.
Oh! could he but have seen, or seen as others did, the slight spare boy above, watching the waves and clouds at twilight, with his earnest eyes, and breasting the window of his solitary cage when birds flew by, as if he would have emulated them, and soared away!

  在几分钟(对坐在桌子上的小保罗·董贝来说,这似乎是一段无穷无尽的时间)之后,布林伯博士回来了。博士的步伐庄严,有意使那颗幼稚的心灵留下严肃的感觉。这类乎一种行军;但是当博士伸出他的右脚的时候,他沉着地围绕着他的脊椎轴心,以半圆形的拐步转向左脚;而当他伸出左脚的时候,他又以同样的姿态转向右脚。因此,他每迈出一步,似乎都要看一下周围,仿佛在说,“有谁肯行个好,向我指出,有哪个学科,在哪个方向,我还没有得到知识的?我想未必有吧。”
  布林伯夫人和布林伯小姐跟布林伯博士一道回来。博士把他新来的小学生从桌子上举出以后,把他交给了布林伯小姐。
  “科妮莉亚,”博士说道,“董贝首先交给你管。培养他吧,科妮莉亚,培养他吧。”
  布林伯小姐从博士的手中接过了她年幼的弟子;保罗觉得那副眼镜正在打量他,就低下了眼睛。
  “您几岁了,董贝?”布林伯小姐问道。
  “六岁,”保罗回答道。当他偷偷地向这位小姐看一眼的时候,他奇怪,她的头发为什么不像弗洛伦斯的那么长,她又为什么像一个男孩子。
  “您对拉丁语语法知道多少,董贝?”布林伯小姐问道。
  “一点也不知道,”保罗回答道。他觉得这个回答在布林伯小姐的感觉上引起了震惊,因此就抬起头来望着那些俯视着他的脸孔,说道:
  “我的身体不好。我是个虚弱的孩子。我每天跟老格拉布出去的时候,我不能学拉丁语语法。劳驾您告诉老格拉布来看看我。”“多么可怕的粗俗的姓名!”布林伯夫人说道。“一丁点古典的味道也没有!这个妖怪是谁,孩子?”
  “什么妖怪?”保罗问道。
  “格拉布,”布林伯夫人极为嫌恶地说道。
  “他不比您像妖怪,”保罗回答道。
  “什么!”博士用可怕的声音喊道。“嘿嘿嘿!哎呀,这是什么话!”
  保罗非常惊恐,但他还是替不在场的格拉布辩护,尽管他讲话时全身哆嗦。
  “他是一位很好的老人,夫人,”他说道。“他经常来拉我的摇篮车。深深的海,海中的鱼,所有这些他全都知道。他还知道有很大的妖怪前来躺在岩石上晒太阳;当受到惊吓的时候,它们就重新跳入水中,喷着气,溅泼着浪花,所以好几英里以外的地方都能听到它们的声音。还有一种动物,”保罗兴奋地讲着他的故事,“我不知道有几码长,我也忘记它们的名字了,但弗洛伦斯知道;它们假装出痛苦的样子,当一个人出于同情心,走近它们的时候,它们就张开大嘴,对他进行袭击,但是他所必须做的事,”保罗大胆地把这个知识告诉博士本人,继续说道,“就是当他逃跑的时候,他继续不断地转弯;由于这种动物很长,又不能弯曲,所以转弯转得很慢,这样他就一定能够使它们追不上。虽然老格拉布不知道为什么海洋使我想起了我死去的妈妈,也不知道它一直在说着——一直在说着一些什么话,可是他对海洋的事情还是知道得很多。我希望,”孩子结束的时候,脸色突然搭拉下来,失去了原先的生气,像个孤独无助的人那样望着三张陌生的脸,说道,“你们能让老格拉布到这里来看看我,因为我很了解他,他也得了解我。”
  “哈!”博士摇摇头,说道,“这不好,但是学习能解决许多问题。”
  布林伯夫人似乎感到有些打颤一样地发表意见说,他是个难以理解的孩子,并且几乎就像皮普钦太太过去经常那样地看着他,只是两人的面貌不同罢了。
  “领他到屋子里四处转转,科妮莉亚,”博士说道,“让他熟悉熟悉他的新的环境。跟这位小姐走吧,董贝。”
  董贝遵从命令,把手伸给了那位莫测高深的科妮莉亚;当他们一起走开的时候,他怀着胆怯的好奇心,斜眼看着她。因为她那副闪烁着亮光的眼镜使她变得那么神秘,他不知道她在看什么地方,而且确实也不很肯定,她在眼镜后面究竟是不是还有眼睛。
  科妮莉亚首先把他领往教室;教室座落在前厅的后面,穿过两扇门到达那里,门上钉着桌面呢,这样可以使年轻的先生们的声音减弱、消失。教室里有八位神经衰弱程度不同的年轻的先生们;他们全都很努力地学习着,而且真是十分严肃。图茨是最大的一位,在一个角落里有他自己的一张书桌;在保罗年幼的眼睛中,他是坐在书桌后面的一位年纪很大的庄严的男子。
  文学士菲德先生坐在另一张小书桌的后面;他正在教维吉尔的诗,还没有教完,他这个人为的手摇风琴这时正慢条斯理地向四位年轻的先生演奏着那个曲子。在其余四个人当中,有两位痉挛似地紧紧抓着前额,正在解数学题;有一位由于哭得太多,脸孔像个肮脏的窗子一样,正力求在午饭前把那数量多得毫无希望的几行字胡乱地赶完;还有一位像石头一样茫然不动、陷于绝望地坐在那里,看着他的作业——
  他吃完早饭以后似乎一直处于这样的状态中。
  一位新孩子的出现并没有引起本可以预料会引起的哄动。文学士菲德先生(他习惯于勤刮胡子来使脸面保持凉爽,除了有一点点胡子茬外,脸上刮得干干净净)向他伸出了一只瘦削的手,对他说,他高兴见到他——保罗本想很高兴地对他说,他是否可以怀着最起码的一点诚意来说这句话。然后保罗在科妮莉亚的介绍下,和菲德先生书桌前的几位年轻的先生们握了手;然后和那两位在解题的年轻的先生们握了手,他们十分兴奋;然后和那位抢时间赶作业的年轻的先生握了手,他身上沾了很多墨迹;最后和那位茫然失措的年轻的先生握了手,他没精打采,十分冷淡。
  因为保罗先前已被介绍跟图茨认识了,所以那位学生按照他的习惯,只是吃吃地笑着和喘着气,并继续做着他正在做的事情。那不是件困难的事情;因为由于他已经“经受了”那么多的事情(不要只从字面上来理解这一点),也由于正如我们前面已经提到过的,他在他精力最旺盛的时候已经停止催长,所以他现在可以从事他自己的研究课程;这主要是起草声名显赫的人士写给他本人的长信,称呼他为“萨塞克斯,布赖顿,普·图茨先生阁下”,他把这些信件十分仔细地保存在他的书桌中。
  通过这些礼节以后,科妮莉亚领着保罗穿过楼梯上到屋顶;这是一段相当缓慢的路程,因为保罗必须把两只脚都跨到每个梯级以后才能攀登另一个梯级。但是他们终于到达了路程的终点。那里,在一个面临波涛汹涌的大海的房间中,科妮莉亚把一张紧挨着窗子、挂着白色帐子的漂亮的小床指点给他看,窗子上的一张纸牌上早已用圆体楷书——下面的笔划很粗,上面的笔划很细——写着“董贝”;在这同一个房间的另外两张小床,通过同样的方式标明它们是属于布里格斯与托泽的。
  正当他们重新回到前厅的时候,保罗看到那位曾经冒犯过皮普钦太太、使皮普钦太太和他不共戴天的弱视的年轻人突然拿着一根很大的槌子,向悬挂着的一面锣飞跑过去,仿佛他已发了疯或者想要报仇似的。但是他并没有接到解雇通知,也没有被立即监禁起来;这位年轻人敲出了那可怕的声音之后,没有受到任何指责就离开了。这时科妮莉亚·布林伯对董贝说,午饭将在一刻钟之后准备好,也许他最好到教室里他的“朋友们”当中去待一下。
  因此,董贝恭恭敬敬地走过那只大钟(它仍旧跟先前一样急想着知道他好吗),把教室的门稍稍地打开,像一个迷路的孩子一样悄悄溜了进去,然后有些吃力地把门关上。他的朋友们全都分散在房间里闲逛着,只有那位像石头一样的朋友还跟先前一样丝毫不动。菲德先生穿着灰色的长衣在伸懒腰,仿佛他不顾衣服的费用,决心要把袖子撕断似的。
  “嗨嗬哼!”菲德先生像一匹拉车的马一样摇动着自己的身体,喊道,“啊,我的天哪,我的天哪!嗳——呀!”
  菲德先生的呵欠使保罗感到十分惊恐;因为它使他的手脚伸得那么开,而他又是那么可怕地认真。所有的孩子们(只有图茨一人除外)似乎也都已筋疲力尽,正准备去吃午饭——有些人正重新结那确实是很硬的领饰;另外一些人在一间邻接的外室中洗手或刷头发,仿佛他们认为吃午饭根本不会得到什么乐趣似的。
  年轻的图茨事先已经准备好了,这时没有事情可做,因此能腾出时间来招呼保罗;他笨拙而善意地说道:
  “请坐,董贝。”
  “谢谢您,先生,”保罗说道。
  保罗设法攀登到一个很高的靠窗子的座位上,但却又从上面滑了下来;这件事情似乎使图茨的心智开了窍,使他能够发现一件事情。
  “您是个很小的家伙,”图茨先生说道。
  “是的,先生,我很小,”保罗回答道。“谢谢您,先生。”
  因为图茨已把他举到座位上,而且态度很亲切地做了这件事。
  “您的衣服是谁做的?”图茨向他看了一会儿之后,问道。
  “我的衣服一直是一位女人做的,”保罗说道。“她给我姐姐做衣服。”
  “我的衣服是伯吉斯公司做的,”图茨说道。“很时髦。但是很贵。”
  保罗聪明地点点头,仿佛想说,·这·点很容易看得出来;他确实也是这样想的。
  “您的父亲很有钱,是吗?”图茨先生问道。
  “是的,先生,”保罗说道,“他就是——董贝父子公司。”
  “董贝什么?”图茨问道。
  “父子,先生,”保罗回答道。
  图茨先生低声地试了一两次,想把公司的名字记在心头,但不很成功,就说,他想请保罗第二天早上把这名字再说一次,因为这是相当重要的。其实他无非是想立刻起草一封董贝父子公司写给他本人亲启的机密信件罢了。
  这时候其他的学生(那位石头般的孩子总是例外)都聚集在一起。他们都彬彬有礼,但脸色苍白,低声说话;他们精神都很抑郁,跟这群人的心绪比起来,比瑟斯通少爷可以称得上是一位真正的米勒①或者是一本《笑话大全》了。然而比瑟斯通少爷也有一种受屈感。
  --------
  ①指18世纪英国(滑稽)演员乔(约瑟夫)·米勒(Joe(Joseph)DMiller)(公元1684—1738年);在他死后,由约翰·莫特利(JohnMottley)编了一本《乔·米勒趣话集》(JoeMiller’sJests)出版。
  “您跟我在一个房间里睡觉,是不是?”一位神色庄严的年轻的先生问他,那人的衬衫领子一直翻卷到他的耳垂。
  “您是布里格斯少爷吗?”保罗问道。
  “托泽,”那位年轻的先生说道。
  保罗回答说,是的;托泽指着那位石头般的学生说,那才是布里格斯。保罗早就确实感到,那人不是布里格斯就是托泽,虽然他不明白这是什么道理。
  “您的体质强壮吗?”托泽问道。
  保罗说,他认为他并不强壮。托泽说,他从保罗的外貌来看,也是这样想的,但这很可惜,因为需要有强壮的体质才行。然后他问保罗是不是先跟科妮莉亚学;当保罗回答“是的”的时候,所有的年轻的先生们都轻轻地哼了一声。
  这哼声这时被重新狂怒般地响出的当当的锣声淹没了,于是大家向餐厅移动,那石头般的孩子却仍然例外,他仍然待在他原先所在的地方,仍然处在原先的状态中;保罗不久看见,有人给他送去一块面包,它雅致地摆在盘子和餐巾上面,顶上斜放着一把银叉。
  布林伯博士已经坐在餐厅中他的座位上;他坐在餐桌的上方,布林伯小姐和布林伯夫人分坐在他的两旁。菲德先生穿着黑色的上衣,坐在桌子的下方。保罗的椅子挨近布林伯小姐;可是当他坐上去以后,大家发现他的眉毛高出桌布不多,于是就从博士的书房中搬进一些书,他就被举到这些书上面;而且从那时起他就老坐在这些书上面,——以后他自己把它们搬进来搬出去,像一只小象搬城楼似的。
  博士念完祷告词之后,午饭就开始了。有美味的汤,还有烤的肉、煮的肉、蔬菜、馅饼和乳酪。每一位年轻的先生都有一把很大的银叉和一块餐巾,所有的安排都是庄重、雅致的。特别引人注意的是,一位穿着有亮钮扣的蓝上衣的男管家倒啤酒倒得十分美妙,能使它散发出一股酒的香味。
  除了布林伯博士、布林伯夫人和布林伯小姐偶尔交谈几句外,没有一个人说话,除非是别人对着他说话的时候才说话。当每一位年轻的先生没有把注意力真正用在餐刀、叉子或匙子的时候,他的眼睛就受到一种不可抗拒的吸引力,寻找着布林伯博士、布林伯夫人或布林伯小姐的眼睛,然后谦虚地停在那里。图茨看来是唯一的例外。他挨着菲德先生坐着,与保罗是在桌子的同一边;他不时从坐在他们中间的孩子们的身后或身前探望保罗一眼。
  只有一次,在吃饭的谈话中间,这些年轻的先生们也参加了进去。那正好是在吃乳酪的时候,博士喝了一杯葡萄酒,清了两三次嗓子以后,说道:
  “那些罗马人,菲德先生,——”
  当提到这个可怕的民族,他们的死敌的时候,每位年轻的先生都装出深感兴趣的神色,把眼光注视着博士。他们当中的一位正好在喝酒,当他看到博士正从他的玻璃酒杯旁边向他瞪着眼睛时,就急急忙忙地停止,结果痉挛了好几秒钟,并因此把布林伯博士的话头打断了。
  “那些罗马人,菲德先生,”博士缓慢地重新开始道,“在皇帝统治的时代,在大办酒宴方面的奢侈挥霍是惊人的(我们在书上读到这种记载),当时奢侈达到空前绝后的顶峰,有好几个省为了提供一个皇家的宴会所需的资金,耗尽了元气——”
  那位犯了过错的人一直紧张难受,并徒劳地等待着一个句号,这时猛烈地痉挛起来。
  “约翰逊,”菲德先生用低声的责备的口吻说道,“喝点水。”
  神色很严峻的博士停了一会儿,直到水取来以后,才继续说道:
  “菲德先生——”
  可是菲德先生看到约翰逊又要痉挛,他又知道博士在这些年轻的先生面前,在讲完所有他想要讲的话之前是决不会打下一个句号的,所以他不能把眼睛离开约翰逊;这样他就没有看着博士,博士也就因此停了下来。
  “请原谅,先生,”菲德先生脸红着说道,“请原谅,布林伯博士。”
  “先生,”博士提高声音说道,“我们读到过,而且也没有理由怀疑——虽然对于我们当今的普通老百姓来说,这是难以置信的——,维特利乌斯①的弟弟为他准备了一个筵席,筵席上摆出了两千盘鱼——”
  --------
  ①维特利乌斯(AulusVitellius,公元15—69年)。公元69年,他被部下拥立为罗马皇帝,但不久即为另一被拥立为皇帝的韦斯巴芗(Vespasian)的军队所杀害。
  “喝点水,约翰逊——鱼,先生,”菲德先生说道。
  “五千盘各种家禽。”
  “或者您试吃一片面包皮,”菲德先生说。
  “还有一盘叫做米涅瓦的盾牌,”布林伯博士继续说道,他向桌子各处扫视时,声音提得更高,“这是根据它那巨大的容积来命名的;除了其他贵重的材料外,它的组成部分还有野鸡的脑子——”
  “喔唷!喔唷!喔唷!”(这是约翰逊发出的)
  “山鹬的脑子——”
  “喔唷!喔唷!喔唷!”
  “一种鱼的鳔,这种鱼叫鹦嘴——”①
  “您头脑里有根什么血管要破裂,”菲德先生说道,“您最好听随它去,别去阻止它。”
  “从喀尔巴阡海②中捕到的八月鳗的卵,”博士用他极为严肃的声音继续说道,“当我们谈到这样一些耗费巨大的筵席的情况时,我们不要忘记还有一位提图斯③——”
  “如果您中风死了的话,那么您母亲将会是什么样的心情啊!”菲德先生说道。
  “一位图密善——”④
  --------
  ①指鹦嘴鱼(scaridae):约80种热带珊瑚礁鱼类的总称,其中鹦鹉鱼(ParBrotfish)可食用。
  ②喀尔巴阡海(CarpathianSea):欧洲中部喀尔巴阡山脉地区的河流,属黑海水系。
  ③提图斯(全名为TitusVespasiansAugustus,原名为TitusFlaviusVesBpasians,公元39—81年),罗马皇帝(在位时间为公元79—81年)。
  ④图密善(全名为CaesarDomitianusAugustus,原名为TitusFlaviusDomi-tianus,公元51—96年):罗马皇帝(在位时间为公元81—96年)。
  “您知道,您的脸色发青了,”菲德先生说道。
  “一位尼禄①,一位提比利乌斯②,一位卡里古拉③,一位赫利奥加巴卢斯④以及其他许多人,”博士继续说道,“菲德先生,如果您肯赏光听一听的话,这是惊人的,很惊人的,先生——”
  --------
  ①尼禄(全名为NiroClaudisCaesarAugustusGermanicus,公元37—68年):罗马皇帝(在位时间为公元54—68年)。
  ②提比利乌斯(全名为TiberiusCaesarAugustus或TiberiusJuliusCaesarAu-gustus,原名为TiberiusClaudisNero,公元前42—37年)(亦译提比略):罗马皇帝(在位时间为公元14—37年)。
  ③卡利古拉(全名为GaiusCaesarGermanicus,原名为GaiusCaesar,公元12—41年):罗马皇帝(在位时间为公元37—41年)。卡里古拉(Caligula)是他父亲属下士兵给他取的绰号,意为“小靴子”。
  ④赫利奥加巴卢斯(Heliogabalus)或称埃拉加巴卢斯(Elagabalus)(全名为Cae-sarMarcusAureliusAntoniusAugustus,原名为VariusAvitusBassianus,上述两个名称是他的别称,公元204—222年):罗马皇帝(在位时间为公元218—222年)。
  但是约翰逊再也克制不住,这时发出了一阵异常猛烈的咳嗽,因此,虽然紧挨着他坐的孩子们咚咚地敲着他的背,菲德先生本人把一杯水端到他的唇边,男管家像一个哨兵一样,扶着他在他自己的椅子和餐具柜之间来来回回地走了好几次,但是整整经过了五分钟,他才多少镇定了下来;在这之后,房间里是一片深沉的寂静。
  “先生们,”布林伯博士说道,“请站起来做祷告!科妮莉亚,把董贝抱下去,”——于是桌布上面除了他的头皮之外,就再也看不到他身上的什么东西了。“约翰逊明天吃早饭之前不要带书,向我背诵希腊文的圣约书,从第一章圣保罗使徒书背到以弗所书。菲德先生,我们在半小时后将继续进行学习。”
  这些年轻的先生们鞠了躬,退出了房间。菲德先生也一样。在这半小时内,年轻的先生们分成一对对,手挽手地在房屋后面的一小片工地上来来去去地闲逛着,或者设法在布里格斯心中点燃一星生气的火花。至于游戏这种粗俗的事情则根本没有。到了指定的时间,锣声准时地响了起来,在布林伯博士与菲德先生的共同主持下,又重新开始学习了。
  由于约翰逊的缘故,那天来回步行的奥林匹克运动比平时缩短了,所以他们在喝茶之前全都出去散步。甚至连布里格斯(虽然他还没有开始学习)也参加了这个消遣;他在玩乐当中曾经从峭壁顶上暗中往下看了两三次。布林伯博士陪伴着他们;保罗有幸由博士本人在后面跟着,这是一件无比光荣的事情;他在这当中看去很小,也很虚弱。
  喝茶也是彬彬有礼地进行的,并不比吃午饭稍逊一筹。喝茶以后,年轻的先生们像先前一样,站起来鞠躬,离开去继续做当天没有完成的功课,或者预习明天即将来临的功课。在这段时间中,菲德先生回到他自己的房间里去;保罗则坐到一个角落里,沉思着弗洛伦斯是不是正在想着他,以及他们在皮普钦太太那里的情形怎么样。
  图茨先生由于忙着草拟惠灵顿公爵寄来的一封重要信件,刚才耽搁了一些时候,这时把保罗找到了;他像先前一样看了他好久之后问他,他是不是喜欢背心。
  保罗说,“喜欢,先生。”
  “我也喜欢,”图茨说道。
  那天夜里图茨没有再说别的话;但他站在那里看着保罗,仿佛他喜欢他;由于这里有着情谊,而保罗又不想说话,这比交谈更符合他的意愿。
  八点钟左右,锣又响起来,召唤大家到餐厅里去做祈祷;男管家在那里摆了一张边桌,桌子上散放着面包、乳酪和啤酒,供那些需要提神滋补一下的年轻的先生们在祈祷之后取食。最后,布林伯博士说道,“先生们,我们明天七点钟将重新开始学习,”这样仪式就结束了;然后,保罗第一次看到科妮莉亚·布林伯的眼光,看到那是对着他看的。当博士说了“先生们,我们明天七点钟将重新开始学习”之后,小学生们又鞠了躬,然后去睡觉。
  在楼上他们自己的房间里,布里格斯吐露心事说,他的头痛得就要裂开;如果不是为了他的母亲和他家中的一只黑鸟的话,那么他真巴不得自己死去才好。托泽没有多说话,但他叹了好多气,并劝告保罗准备着,因为明天就要轮到他了。在说了这些预言性的话之后,他郁郁不乐地脱掉衣服,上了床。当那位弱视的年轻人进来拿走蜡烛,并祝他们夜安和做个快乐的梦的时候,布里格斯也已经在床上了,保罗也一样已经躺在床上了。可是就布里格斯与托泽来说,他的善意的祝愿却没起作用;因为保罗醒着躺了好久,后来又时常醒过来,他发现,功课像个梦魇一样折磨着布里格斯;托泽在睡眠中也由于同样的原因,头脑受到了滋扰,只不过程度轻一些罢了;他说着听不明白的语言,不是希腊语就是拉丁语的片断——对保罗来说完全是一样——,在夜晚的寂静中,它们有着难以形容的邪恶与罪恶的效果。
  保罗沉浸在甜蜜的睡眠中,并梦见他与弗洛伦斯手挽手地穿过一些美丽的花园;当他们走向一朵大的向日葵时,它突然扩大成了一面锣,开始响出声来。他睁开眼睛,看到这是个黑暗的、刮风的早晨,下着蒙蒙细雨;真正的锣正在楼下前厅中发出可怕的声音,通知大家,是准备上课的时候了。
  因此他就立即起床,并看到布里格斯正在穿靴子,他的脸孔由于梦魔与痛苦的缘故肿胀起来,因此连眼睛都几乎看不到了;托泽则心情很不好地站在那里颤抖,并搓着肩膀。可怜的保罗由于不习惯,自己穿衣服不容易,就问他们是否能行个好,帮他系一些带子;可是布里格斯只是说了声“讨厌!”托泽也说,“啊,是真讨厌!”所以他就胡乱潦草地把衣服穿好,走到下面的一层;他在那里看到一位漂亮的年轻女人戴着皮手套,正在打扫火炉。那位年轻女人看到他这副样子,似乎感到吃惊,问他的母亲在哪里。当保罗告诉他,她已经死了;她就脱下手套,做了他需要做的事情,并搓搓他的手,使它们暖和起来,又吻了他一下,告诉他,不论什么时候他需要做那一类事情——指穿衣服——,那么就请喊一下“梅莉亚”;保罗非常感谢她,说他一定会那样做的。然后他轻轻地继续往楼下走去,走向那间年轻的先生们重新开始学习的房间;当他经过一扇半开半掩的门时,里面有一个声音喊道,“那是董贝吗?”保罗回答道,“是的,夫人;”因为他知道那是布林伯小姐的声音,布林伯小姐说,“请进来,董贝!”他就走进去了。
  布林伯小姐的外表就跟她昨天的外表完全一样,所不同的只是她披了一条披肩。她那短而浅色的卷发像过去一样蜷曲;她也早已戴上眼镜,保罗心中暗想,她上床睡觉时是不是戴着它们。她自己有一间凉爽的起居室,里面有一些书,却没有火炉。但是布林伯小姐从来不冷,也从来没有睡意。
  “现在,董贝,”布林伯小姐说道,“我出去搞点健身运动。”
  保罗不知道那是什么,心中纳闷,天气这样不好,她为什么不派个仆人去搞。但是他在这个问题上没有发表什么意见,因为他的注意力已集中到一小堆新书上,看来布林伯小姐最近正在研究它们。
  “这些都是您的书,董贝,”布林伯小姐说道。
  “它们全都是吗,夫人?”保罗问道。
  “是的,”布林伯小姐回答道,“如果您能像我所期望的那样用功好学的话,那么菲德先生不久将会为您再找些书来,董贝。”
  “谢谢您,夫人,”保罗说道。
  “我出去搞点健身运动,”布林伯小姐继续说道;“当我出去的时候,那就是说,从现在到吃早饭的这段时间里,董贝,我希望您把我在书中做了记号的地方念一下,告诉我您是不是完全理解您所必须学习的东西。别浪费时间,董贝,因为您已没有什么多余的时间了,但是请您把它们拿到楼下去,立刻开始。”
  “是的,夫人,”保罗回答道。
  可是书实在真多,因此虽然保罗把一只手伸到最底下的那本下面,另一只手和下巴按着最顶上的那本,把它们全都紧紧地抱着,可是在他还没有走到门口的时候,中间的那本书却滑了出来,然后它们全都滚到地板上。布林伯小姐说道,“啊,董贝,董贝,这真是太不小心啦!”然后又重新给他堆起来;这一次,凭借着十分细致巧妙的功夫把它们搞平衡,保罗走出了房间,并且走下几层楼以后,才有两本书又脱离出去。但是他把其余的书抱得很紧,所以只在二层楼掉下一本,在走廊里掉下一本;他把成为主体的那些书抱进教室以后,就动身上楼去捡回那些半途失落的。当他终于把所有的书本都收集齐全以后,他就爬到他的座位上,开始学习起来;托泽说了一句大意是“现在他开始了”的话,对他进行鼓励。直到吃早饭之前,再也没有谁来打断他。吃早饭的时候(他对早饭没有胃口),一切都跟其他各餐一样严肃而文雅地进行;
  早饭完毕以后,他跟随着布林伯小姐上楼去。
  “喂,董贝,”布林伯小姐说道,“这些书您读得怎么样了?”
  在这些书中,有几本英文的,有很多是拉丁文的——物品的名称,冠词与实词的变格,相应的练习以及初步的规则——少量的正字法,古代史一瞥,现代史略窥,几张表格,两三种度量衡以及一些一般知识,当可怜的保罗按照音节读到数字二的时候,他发现他已没有数字一的概念了;它的一些片断后来侵入了数字三,数字三滑进了数字四,数字四又嫁接到数字二上。因此,究竟二十个罗穆卢斯①是不是构成一个瑞穆斯②;hichaechoc③是不是金衡制;动词是不是与古代的不列颠经常一致;或者三乘四是不是金牛座,对他来说,这些全都是没有解决的问题。
  --------
  ①罗穆卢斯(Romulus):古罗马传说中古罗马的建国者,马耳斯(Mars)的儿子,古罗马的守护神。
  ②瑞穆斯(Remus):马耳斯生双子:罗穆卢斯及瑞穆斯。在修筑罗马城墙时,兄弟之间发生了争吵,罗穆卢斯杀死了瑞穆斯。
  ③hichaechoc:拉丁文中的指示代词。
  “啊,董贝,董贝!”布林伯小姐说道,“这是很令人震惊的!”
  “对不起,”保罗说道,“如果我有时可以跟老格拉布稍稍谈些话的话,我想我能够好一些。”
  “胡扯,董贝,”布林伯小姐说道,“这是我不能容忍的。不论是什么样的格拉布,这里都不是允许他们进来的地方。我想,董贝,您应当把这些书一本一本地拿到楼下去,今天首先把给您指定的课题甲完全弄明白,然后再转到课题乙。现在,董贝,请您把顶上面的那本书拿走。等您精通了里面的内容,再回到这里来。”
  布林伯小姐怀着忧闷而高兴的心情对保罗未受过教育、无知无识的状态这个问题发表她的意见,仿佛她已预料到这个结果,并且高兴地看到,他们今后将会经常来往。保罗遵照吩咐,拿了顶上的那本书离开了房间,并在楼下用心地学习着;有时他记住其中的每个词,有时则把它们和其他一切东西全都忘得干干净净,最后他终于大着胆子又上楼去背诵课文;在他没有开始之前,布林伯小姐把书本一合,说声“往下背,董贝!”,这就把那些课文从他头脑中几乎全部驱赶了出去;布林伯小姐的这种做法十分有力地向人们提醒她有满肚子的学问,所以保罗惊惶失措地看着她,仿佛她是学识渊博的盖伊·福克斯,或者是个塞满了学术稻草的人妖①。
  然而他还是应付得很好;布林伯小姐称赞他有希望迅速取得进步,立即把课题乙给了他;然后又转到了课题丙,甚至在吃午饭之前就转到了课题丁。这是艰巨的工作,吃完午饭之后立即继续学习。他觉得眼花缭乱,脑子胡涂,昏昏欲睡,沉闷乏味。如果这里有什么值得安慰的东西的话,那就是所有其他的年轻的先生们也有着类似的情绪,可是也都必须继续学习。奇怪的是,前厅中的大钟总是不断重复它的第一个问题,从来不曾说过,“先生们,我们现在来继续学习,”虽然这句话在它邻近的场所是经常重复说的。学习就像一个巨大的轮子向前转动着,这些年轻的先生们经常伸开四肢躺在上面。
  喝完茶以后在烛光下又做练习,并准备第二天的功课。到了规定的时间,就上床睡觉了;在床上,如果不是在梦中还继续学习的话,就可以得到休息与甜蜜的忘却了。
  啊,星期六!啊,快乐的星期六,弗洛伦斯总是在这一天的中午来到;虽然皮普钦太太谩骂着,怒吼着,厉害地折磨着她,可是不论是什么天气,她从来不会不来。这些星期六除了对所有的犹太人是安息日外,至少对两位小基督徒也是安息日②。它们做了加强与联结姐弟之爱的神圣工作。
  --------
  ①盖伊·福克斯(GuyFawks):英国1605年火药阴谋案的主犯,详见第五章注释。在火药阴谋案发生一周年时,孩子们举着福克斯的模似像游行,模似像中塞满了稻草,最后把它烧掉。
  ②一般基督教徒的安息日是星期日。犹太人及少数基督徒的安息日是星期六。
  甚至星期天的夜间——令人忧郁的星期天夜间,它的阴影把星期天早晨第一道破晓的微光也给遮蔽了——也不能损毁这些宝贵的星期六。不论是在宽阔的海滨,他们在那里坐着并一起散步,也不论仅仅是在皮普钦太太的单调无趣的后房间里,他那困倦欲睡的头倚靠在她的胳膊上,她则轻柔地对他唱着歌,对保罗来说,全都是一样。弗洛伦斯与他在一起。这就是他所想到的一切。因此,在星期天夜间,当博士的黑暗的门张开大嘴要把他再吞进一个星期的时候,这是他跟弗洛伦斯告别的时候;他不跟其他任何人告别。
  威肯姆大嫂已被调回到伦敦城里的家中,尼珀姑娘到这里来了;她现在已长成一位聪明伶俐的年轻女人。她英勇地投入了与皮普钦太太的许多次搏斗;如果皮普钦太太一生中曾经遇到过对手的话,她现在遇到了。尼珀姑娘在皮普钦太太的房屋里起床的第一个早晨就丢开了剑鞘,决心战斗到底。她既不向敌人求饶,也不饶恕敌人。她说这必须战斗,于是战斗就开始了;从那时起,皮普钦太太就生活在奇袭、骚扰、挑战与小规模的攻击之中;这些袭击从过道里,甚至在她毫无防备、吃排骨的时候降临到她的头上,败坏了她吃烤面包片的胃口。
  有一个星期天夜间,尼珀姑娘把保罗送回到博士的学校,走回来的时候,弗洛伦斯从胸间掏出一张纸,上面有她用铅笔写的一些字。
  “看这里,苏珊,”她说道。“这是保罗带回家的一些小书的名称;他在很疲倦的时候还要用这些小书来做那些长长的练习。昨天夜里当他在写的时候,我把书名抄了下来。”“请别给我看,弗洛伊小姐,”尼珀说道,“我不想看它们,就像不想看皮普钦太太一样。”
  “如果您愿意的话,那么我想请您明天早上去把这些书给我买来,苏珊。我这里的钱是足够的,”弗洛伦斯说道。
  “哎呀,天哪,弗洛伊小姐,”尼珀姑娘回答道,“您已经有了一大堆一大堆的书,男老师、女老师又不断地教您各种知识,您怎么还说要买书呢?虽然我相信,董贝小姐,您的爸爸从来不会让您学什么,从来也不会想到这一点,除非是您向他提出请求,那他倒不好拒绝了;可是向他提出请求他表示同意,跟没有向他请求他主动提出建议,那是完全不同的两码事,小姐。我可能不会拒绝一个年轻小伙子跟我交朋友;当他提出这个问题的时候,我可能会说‘可以’,但我可不会说‘您肯行行好爱我吗?’”
  “可是您会给我买这些书的,苏珊;当您知道我需要它们的时候,您将会去买的。”
  “唔。可是您为什么需要它们呢,小姐?”尼珀回答道,然后又低声补上一句,“如果是要把它们拿来向皮普钦太太的头上扔去的话,那么我倒愿意买上一大车!”
  “我想,如果我有这些书的话,那么我就能给保罗一些帮助,”弗洛伦斯说道,“这样下个星期他就会感到容易一些了。至少我想试一试。因此请为我把它们买来吧,亲爱的;我永远也不会忘记,您的心地是多么好才去做这件事的。”
  必须要有一颗比苏珊·尼珀更为冷酷无情的心才能拒绝弗洛伦斯讲这些话时拿出的钱包或者她提出这个请求时伴随着的温柔的、恳求的眼光。苏珊没有回答就把钱包塞进了口袋,并立刻急匆匆地跑出去执行这个任务了。
  买到书是不容易的。跑了几家书店,得到的回答不是他们刚刚卖完,就是他们现在已经没有了,或者他们上个月有好多,再不就是他们希望下星期能够进好多。可是苏珊是不容易在这样的事情上被挫败的;她千方百计,到一个认识她的图书馆里,说服了一位在里面工作的满头白发、围了一条黑色印花布围裙的青年陪她一起出去寻找;她把他折腾得来回奔波,疲惫不堪,他确实是尽了最大的努力,哪怕就是为了把她摆脱掉也罢;最后他终于使她胜利而回。
  有了这些珍宝之后,弗洛伦斯每天夜间坐下来,做完自己的功课以后,就踏着保罗的脚印,穿过荆棘丛生的学习道路;她天性聪明,能力高超,又被所有老师中最令人惊奇的老师——爱所指引,所以她不久就赶到了保罗的脚跟前,跟他齐步前进,并超过了他。
  这种情况一句话也没有向皮普钦太太吐露过;到了夜晚,所有的人都已经上床睡觉;尼珀姑娘用纸卷着头发,并采取一种不舒适的姿态横卧在她的身边,也已睡觉了;壁炉中裂为碎屑的灰烬已经变冷,颜色已经变得灰白;蜡烛已经燃尽,流淌着烛水;可是这时候,弗洛伦斯仍在辛勤地钻研着,试图成为小保罗的替身;她那坚忍不拔,不屈不挠的精神几乎真可以使她本人赢得姓这个姓的自由权利。
  她获得的报酬是丰厚的;有一个星期六晚上,当小保罗像往常一样坐下来“继续学习”的时候,她坐在他身边,向他指点着;在他面前,所有那些深奥艰难的东西如今已变得简易了,所有那些晦涩不解的东西如今已变得清楚明白了。保罗的毫无血色的脸上出现了惊奇的神色——泛上了一阵红晕——露出了一个微笑——然后是一阵紧紧的拥抱;除此之外,没有别的了。只有上帝才知道,她付出的劳动得到了如些优厚的报酬,她的心是怎样跳动的啊!
  “啊,弗洛伊!”她的弟弟喊道,“我多么爱你啊!我多么爱你啊,弗洛伊。”
  “我也爱你呀,亲爱的!”
  “啊!我完全相信你的话,弗洛伊。”
  他没有再说什么,那天整个晚上他都紧挨着她,很安静地坐着;不过夜里,他在她房间里面的小房间中却三、四次喊道,他爱她。
  在这之后,弗洛伦斯照例总是准备着在星期六夜间跟保罗坐在一起,耐心地帮助他准备他们预料他下星期将要面临的功课。他现在努力工作着的地方正是弗洛伦斯在他之前刚刚辛苦劳动过的,想到这一点是愉快的;在保罗不断的继续学习中,这本身对他一直是一种激励。不过,由于加上这一帮助的结果,他的负担实际上减轻了,所以它拯救了他,使他没有可能沉陷在美丽的科妮莉亚堆压在他背上的重担下面,不能起来。
  不是布林伯小姐有意对他过于严格,也不是布林伯博士有意要把过重的负担压在年轻的先生们的身上。科妮莉亚只是保持着她所由以培育的信仰;博士呢,由于思想上有些胡涂不清,所以把这些年轻的先生们看成仿佛他们全都是博士,生下来就已经长大了似的。这些年轻的先生们的近亲们的赞扬使他得到安慰,他们的盲目的虚荣与考虑不周的性急驱策着他继续前进,因此如果布林伯博士发现了自己的错误,或者把他那风帆鼓鼓的船调整到其他任何航向,那倒会是件奇怪的事了。
  保罗的情况就是这样。当布林伯博士说,他天资聪明,取得了很大的进步的时候,董贝先生就比过去更坚决地赞成对他进行强制性教育,在他脑子里填塞得满满的。就布里格斯的情况来说,当布林伯博士报告说,他天资不聪明,还没有取得很大的进步的时候,布里格斯的长辈为了追求同样的目的也是铁面无情,一丝不苟。总而言之,布林伯博士把他的温室的温度不论弄得多么高,多么不适当,那些植物的主人总是准备伸出手来帮他拉风箱,把火煽旺的。
  保罗开始时所保持的那种蓬勃的朝气自然很快就失去了,可是他保留着他性格中所有那些古怪的、老气的与爱沉思的部分;在有利于发展这些倾向的环境下,他变得比过去更为古怪、更为老气、更爱沉思了。
  唯一的差别是他没有把他的性格向外表露。他一天天变得更加沉思与缄默;他对博士家庭中的任何成员都没有像他过去对皮普钦太太那样怀有的好奇心。他喜欢独自待着;在他没有忙着读书的那些短暂的间歇时间中,他最喜爱的事情莫过于一个人在房屋里漫步,或者坐在楼梯上,静听着前厅中大钟的声音。他熟悉房屋中所有的壁纸,在那些图案中看到了其他任何人所没有看到的东西;他在卧室墙上看出那些奔跑的小老虎与小狮子,在铺地板的漆布的正方形与菱形中看出那些斜眼瞅着的面孔。
  这孤独的孩子就这样继续生活着;他沉思的想象所构造出的奇异的形象围绕着他;没有人了解他。布林伯夫人认为他“古怪”;有时仆人们相互谈论时说小董贝“闷闷不乐”,但是也就如此而已。
  也许,年轻的图茨对这个问题有某些想法,可是他完全没有能力把这些想法表达出来。思想就像鬼(一般概念中的鬼)一样,必须先跟它们先谈一会儿,它们才会显示出自己,而图茨已长久停止向他的头脑提出任何问题了。从那个铅色的壳子——他的头颅——中可能升起一些迷雾,如果这些迷雾能够成形,那么它们一定会变成一个精灵;可是这些迷雾不能成形;它们只能仿效阿拉伯故事中的烟雾,喷冒出浓云,在上空悬垂与飞翔,但是在荒凉的海岸上却留下了一个可以看得见的小人儿;图茨经常注视着它。
  “您好吗?”他会一天向保罗问五十次。
  “很好,先生,谢谢您,”保罗会这样回答。
  “握握手吧,”这是图茨的第二句话。
  保罗自然立刻那么做了。图茨先生在长久的注视与喘气之后,一般又会再问道,“您好吗?”保罗又会再次回答,“很好,先生,谢谢您!”
  有一天晚上,图茨先生正坐在他的书桌前面,被书信弄得很累,这时他似乎突然想到一个很大的主意。他放下笔,跑出去寻找保罗。他通过保罗小卧室中的窗子,经过长久的探察之后,终于把他找到了。
  “听我说!”图茨一走进房间就立刻大声说道,唯恐他会把话忘掉;“您在想什么?”
  “哦!我在想好多好多事情,”保罗回答道。
  “真的吗?”图茨说道,好像他认为这个事实本身就是令人惊奇似的。
  “如果您必须死去的话,——”保罗仰起头来注视着他的脸,说道。
  图茨先生吃了一惊,似乎十分不安。
  “——那么您是不是认为最好是在一个有月光笼罩着的夜间死去,而当时天空又十分清澈,风像昨天那样吹着?”
  图茨先生满脸疑云地看着保罗,摇摇头说,他不知道这一点。
  “或者不是吹着,”保罗说道,“而是在空中响着,就像海水在贝壳中响着一样。那是个美丽的夜。我听海水听了很久,就起床向外眺望。在明亮的月光下面,海上有一只小船;一条挂帆的小船。”
  孩子看着他的时候是那么聚精会神,说话的时候是那么认真恳切,因此图茨觉得自己务必说点有关这只小船的话才好,于是就说,“这是走私船。”但他毫无偏见地想到任何问题都有两个方面,就又补充说道,“或者是缉私船。”
  “一条挂帆的小船,”保罗重复说道,“在明亮的月光下面。那张帆像只胳膊,全是银色的。它驶向远方;当它乘着海浪前进的时候,您想它似乎是要做什么呢?”
  “俯冲然后仰浮,”图茨先生说道。
  “它似乎在招呼,”孩子说道,“在招呼我到它那里去!——她在那里!她在那里!”
  图茨先生在先前发生的事情之后,听到这突如其来的高喊声,惊愕得不知所以,就喊道:“谁?”
  “我的姐姐弗洛伦斯!”保罗喊道,“她向这里仰望着,并挥着手。她看到我了——她看到我了!晚安,亲爱的,晚安,晚安。”
  当他站在窗口,飞吻着,拍着手的时候,他迅速地转变为无限的欣喜;而当她消失不见的时候,他的容颜则失去了光泽,小脸上留下了一层忍耐的忧愁;这一切是那么显著,甚至连图茨也不能完全不注意到。这时皮普钦太太来访,打断了他们的会晤;皮普钦太太通常总是每星期一两次在接近黄昏的时候,穿着黑裙子,向保罗走来;因此图茨不可能利用这个机会,但它在他心上留下了十分深刻的印象,所以他在通常的相互问候之后还两次走回来问皮普钦太太她好吗。这位爱发脾气的老太太把这看成是一个奸诈的、蓄意的侮辱,是楼下那位弱视的年轻人穷凶极恶地制造出来的,因此当天夜里她就向布林伯博士正式控告了他。布林伯博士对那位年轻人说,如果他再这么做,他就必须离开他。
  现在晚上比过去长一些了,所以保罗每天晚上都要偷偷地走到窗前向外寻找弗洛伦斯。她经常是在某一个时候反复走过那里,直到她看到他为止;他们相互认出,这是保罗每天生活中的一道阳光。常常在天黑以后,还有另一个人在博士房屋前面独自走着。他现在星期六很少跟他们在一起了。他不能忍受这种情况。他宁愿不被认出他到这里来,仰望着他的儿子正在被培养为一个成年男子的窗子,并等待着,注视着,计划着,期望着。
  啊!如果他能够看到,或者像其他人那样看到,上面那虚弱、消瘦的孩子在薄暮中用他那认真的眼睛注视着海浪与云彩;当鸟儿从旁飞过的时候,他用胸顶撞着他那孤独的笼子的窗子,仿佛他愿意仿效它,向外飞走——如果他能够看到这些情形的话,那么他该会怎么样呢!


慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 13
Shipping Intelligence and Office Business
Mr Dombey's offices were in a court where there was an old-established stall of choice fruit at the corner: where perambulating merchants, of both sexes, offered for sale at any time between the hours of ten and five, slippers, pocket-books, sponges, dogs' collars, and Windsor soap; and sometimes a pointer or an oil-painting.
The pointer always came that way, with a view to the Stock Exchange, where a sporting taste (originating generally in bets of new hats) is much in vogue. The other commodities were addressed to the general public; but they were never offered by the vendors to Mr Dombey. When he appeared, the dealers in those wares fell off respectfully. The principal slipper and dogs' collar man - who considered himself a public character, and whose portrait was screwed on to an artist's door in Cheapside - threw up his forefinger to the brim of his hat as Mr Dombey went by. The ticket-porter, if he were not absent on a job, always ran officiously before, to open Mr Dombey's office door as wide as possible, and hold it open, with his hat off, while he entered.
The clerks within were not a whit behind-hand in their demonstrations of respect. A solemn hush prevailed, as Mr Dombey passed through the outer office. The wit of the Counting-House became in a moment as mute as the row of leathern fire-buckets hanging up behind him. Such vapid and flat daylight as filtered through the ground-glass windows and skylights, leaving a black sediment upon the panes, showed the books and papers, and the figures bending over them, enveloped in a studious gloom, and as much abstracted in appearance, from the world without, as if they were assembled at the bottom of the sea; while a mouldy little strong room in the obscure perspective, where a shaded lamp was always burning, might have represented the cavern of some ocean monster, looking on with a red eye at these mysteries of the deep.
When Perch the messenger, whose place was on a little bracket, like a timepiece, saw Mr Dombey come in - or rather when he felt that he was coming, for he had usually an instinctive sense of his approach - he hurried into Mr Dombey's room, stirred the fire, carried fresh coals from the bowels of the coal-box, hung the newspaper to air upon the fender, put the chair ready, and the screen in its place, and was round upon his heel on the instant of Mr Dombey's entrance, to take his great-coat and hat, and hang them up. Then Perch took the newspaper, and gave it a turn or two in his hands before the fire, and laid it, deferentially, at Mr Dombey's elbow. And so little objection had Perch to being deferential in the last degree, that if he might have laid himself at Mr Dombey's feet, or might have called him by some such title as used to be bestowed upon the Caliph Haroun Alraschid, he would have been all the better pleased.
As this honour would have been an innovation and an experiment, Perch was fain to content himself by expressing as well as he could, in his manner, You are the light of my Eyes. You are the Breath of my Soul. You are the commander of the Faithful Perch! With this imperfect happiness to cheer him, he would shut the door softly, walk away on tiptoe, and leave his great chief to be stared at, through a dome-shaped window in the leads, by ugly chimney-pots and backs of houses, and especially by the bold window of a hair-cutting saloon on a first floor, where a waxen effigy, bald as a Mussulman in the morning, and covered, after eleven o'clock in the day, with luxuriant hair and whiskers in the latest Christian fashion, showed him the wrong side of its head for ever.
Between Mr Dombey and the common world, as it was accessible through the medium of the outer office - to which Mr Dombey's presence in his own room may be said to have struck like damp, or cold air - there were two degrees of descent. Mr Carker in his own office was the first step; Mr Morfin, in his own office, was the second. Each of these gentlemen occupied a little chamber like a bath-room, opening from the passage outside Mr Dombey's door. Mr Carker, as Grand Vizier, inhabited the room that was nearest to the Sultan. Mr Morfin, as an officer of inferior state, inhabited the room that was nearest to the clerks.
The gentleman last mentioned was a cheerful-looking, hazel-eyed elderly bachelor: gravely attired, as to his upper man, in black; and as to his legs, in pepper-and-salt colour. His dark hair was just touched here and there with specks of gray, as though the tread of Time had splashed it; and his whiskers were already white. He had a mighty respect for Mr Dombey, and rendered him due homage; but as he was of a genial temper himself, and never wholly at his ease in that stately presence, he was disquieted by no jealousy of the many conferences enjoyed by Mr Carker, and felt a secret satisfaction in having duties to discharge, which rarely exposed him to be singled out for such distinction. He was a great musical amateur in his way - after business; and had a paternal affection for his violoncello, which was once in every week transported from Islington, his place of abode, to a certain club-room hard by the Bank, where quartettes of the most tormenting and excruciating nature were executed every Wednesday evening by a private party.
Mr Carker was a gentleman thirty-eight or forty years old, of a florid complexion, and with two unbroken rows of glistening teeth, whose regularity and whiteness were quite distressing. It was impossible to escape the observation of them, for he showed them whenever he spoke; and bore so wide a smile upon his countenance (a smile, however, very rarely, indeed, extending beyond his mouth), that there was something in it like the snarl of a cat. He affected a stiff white cravat, after the example of his principal, and was always closely buttoned up and tightly dressed. His manner towards Mr Dombey was deeply conceived and perfectly expressed. He was familiar with him, in the very extremity of his sense of the distance between them. 'Mr Dombey, to a man in your position from a man in mine, there is no show of subservience compatible with the transaction of business between us, that I should think sufficient. I frankly tell you, Sir, I give it up altogether. I feel that I could not satisfy my own mind; and Heaven knows, Mr Dombey, you can afford to dispense with the endeavour.' If he had carried these words about with him printed on a placard, and had constantly offered it to Mr Dombey's perusal on the breast of his coat, he could not have been more explicit than he was.
This was Carker the Manager. Mr Carker the Junior, Walter's friend, was his brother; two or three years older than he, but widely removed in station. The younger brother's post was on the top of the official ladder; the elder brother's at the bottom. The elder brother never gained a stave, or raised his foot to mount one. Young men passed above his head, and rose and rose; but he was always at the bottom. He was quite resigned to occupy that low condition: never complained of it: and certainly never hoped to escape from it.
'How do you do this morning?' said Mr Carker the Manager, entering Mr Dombey's room soon after his arrival one day: with a bundle of papers in his hand.
'How do you do, Carker?' said Mr Dombey.
'Coolish!' observed Carker, stirring the fire.
'Rather,' said Mr Dombey.
'Any news of the young gentleman who is so important to us all?' asked Carker, with his whole regiment of teeth on parade.
'Yes - not direct news- I hear he's very well,' said Mr Dombey. Who had come from Brighton over-night. But no one knew It.
'Very well, and becoming a great scholar, no doubt?' observed the Manager.
'I hope so,' returned Mr Dombey.
'Egad!' said Mr Carker, shaking his head, 'Time flies!'
'I think so, sometimes,' returned Mr Dombey, glancing at his newspaper.
'Oh! You! You have no reason to think so,' observed Carker. 'One who sits on such an elevation as yours, and can sit there, unmoved, in all seasons - hasn't much reason to know anything about the flight of time. It's men like myself, who are low down and are not superior in circumstances, and who inherit new masters in the course of Time, that have cause to look about us. I shall have a rising sun to worship, soon.'
'Time enough, time enough, Carker!' said Mr Dombey, rising from his chair, and standing with his back to the fire. 'Have you anything there for me?'
'I don't know that I need trouble you,' returned Carker, turning over the papers in his hand. 'You have a committee today at three, you know.'
'And one at three, three-quarters,' added Mr Dombey.
'Catch you forgetting anything!' exclaimed Carker, still turning over his papers. 'If Mr Paul inherits your memory, he'll be a troublesome customer in the House. One of you is enough'
'You have an accurate memory of your own,' said Mr Dombey.
'Oh! I!' returned the manager. 'It's the only capital of a man like me.'
Mr Dombey did not look less pompous or at all displeased, as he stood leaning against the chimney-piece, surveying his (of course unconscious) clerk, from head to foot. The stiffness and nicety of Mr Carker's dress, and a certain arrogance of manner, either natural to him or imitated from a pattern not far off, gave great additional effect to his humility. He seemed a man who would contend against the power that vanquished him, if he could, but who was utterly borne down by the greatness and superiority of Mr Dombey.
'Is Morfin here?' asked Mr Dombey after a short pause, during which Mr Carker had been fluttering his papers, and muttering little abstracts of their contents to himself.
'Morfin's here,' he answered, looking up with his widest and almost sudden smile; 'humming musical recollections - of his last night's quartette party, I suppose - through the walls between us, and driving me half mad. I wish he'd make a bonfire of his violoncello, and burn his music-books in it.'
'You respect nobody, Carker, I think,' said Mr Dombey.
'No?' inquired Carker, with another wide and most feline show of his teeth. 'Well! Not many people, I believe. I wouldn't answer perhaps,' he murmured, as if he were only thinking it, 'for more than one.'
A dangerous quality, if real; and a not less dangerous one, if feigned. But Mr Dombey hardly seemed to think so, as he still stood with his back to the fire, drawn up to his full height, and looking at his head-clerk with a dignified composure, in which there seemed to lurk a stronger latent sense of power than usual.
'Talking of Morfin,' resumed Mr Carker, taking out one paper from the rest, 'he reports a junior dead in the agency at Barbados, and proposes to reserve a passage in the Son and Heir - she'll sail in a month or so - for the successor. You don't care who goes, I suppose? We have nobody of that sort here.'
Mr Dombey shook his head with supreme indifference.
'It's no very precious appointment,' observed Mr Carker, taking up a pen, with which to endorse a memorandum on the back of the paper. 'I hope he may bestow it on some orphan nephew of a musical friend. It may perhaps stop his fiddle-playing, if he has a gift that way. Who's that? Come in!'
'I beg your pardon, Mr Carker. I didn't know you were here, Sir,' answered Walter; appearing with some letters in his hand, unopened, and newly arrived. 'Mr Carker the junior, Sir - '
At the mention of this name, Mr Carker the Manager was or affected to be, touched to the quick with shame and humiliation. He cast his eyes full on Mr Dombey with an altered and apologetic look, abased them on the ground, and remained for a moment without speaking.
'I thought, Sir,' he said suddenly and angrily, turning on Walter, 'that you had been before requested not to drag Mr Carker the Junior into your conversation.'
'I beg your pardon,' returned Walter. 'I was only going to say that Mr Carker the Junior had told me he believed you were gone out, or I should not have knocked at the door when you were engaged with Mr Dombey. These are letters for Mr Dombey, Sir.'
'Very well, Sir,' returned Mr Carker the Manager, plucking them sharply from his hand. 'Go about your business.'
But in taking them with so little ceremony, Mr Carker dropped one on the floor, and did not see what he had done; neither did Mr Dombey observe the letter lying near his feet. Walter hesitated for a moment, thinking that one or other of them would notice it; but finding that neither did, he stopped, came back, picked it up, and laid it himself on Mr Dombey's desk. The letters were post-letters; and it happened that the one in question was Mrs Pipchin's regular report, directed as usual - for Mrs Pipchin was but an indifferent penwoman - by Florence. Mr Dombey, having his attention silently called to this letter by Walter, started, and looked fiercely at him, as if he believed that he had purposely selected it from all the rest.
'You can leave the room, Sir!' said Mr Dombey, haughtily.
He crushed the letter in his hand; and having watched Walter out at the door, put it in his pocket without breaking the seal.
'These continual references to Mr Carker the Junior,' Mr Carker the Manager began, as soon as they were alone, 'are, to a man in my position, uttered before one in yours, so unspeakably distressing - '
'Nonsense, Carker,' Mr Dombey interrupted. 'You are too sensitive.'
'I am sensitive,' he returned. 'If one in your position could by any possibility imagine yourself in my place: which you cannot: you would be so too.'
As Mr Dombey's thoughts were evidently pursuing some other subject, his discreet ally broke off here, and stood with his teeth ready to present to him, when he should look up.
'You want somebody to send to the West Indies, you were saying,' observed Mr Dombey, hurriedly.
'Yes,' replied Carker.
'Send young Gay.'
'Good, very good indeed. Nothing easier,' said Mr Carker, without any show of surprise, and taking up the pen to re-endorse the letter, as coolly as he had done before. '"Send young Gay."'
'Call him back,' said Mr Dombey.
Mr Carker was quick to do so, and Walter was quick to return.
'Gay,' said Mr Dombey, turning a little to look at him over his shoulder. 'Here is a -
'An opening,' said Mr Carker, with his mouth stretched to the utmost.
'In the West Indies. At Barbados. I am going to send you,' said Mr Dombey, scorning to embellish the bare truth, 'to fill a junior situation in the counting-house at Barbados. Let your Uncle know from me, that I have chosen you to go to the West Indies.'
Walter's breath was so completely taken away by his astonishment, that he could hardly find enough for the repetition of the words 'West Indies.'
'Somebody must go,' said Mr Dombey, 'and you are young and healthy, and your Uncle's circumstances are not good. Tell your Uncle that you are appointed. You will not go yet. There will be an interval of a month - or two perhaps.'
'Shall I remain there, Sir?' inquired Walter.
'Will you remain there, Sir!' repeated Mr Dombey, turning a little more round towards him. 'What do you mean? What does he mean, Carker?'
'Live there, Sir,' faltered Walter.
'Certainly,' returned Mr Dombey.
Walter bowed.
'That's all,' said Mr Dombey, resuming his letters. 'You will explain to him in good time about the usual outfit and so forth, Carker, of course. He needn't wait, Carker.'
'You needn't wait, Gay,' observed Mr Carker: bare to the gums.
'Unless,' said Mr Dombey, stopping in his reading without looking off the letter, and seeming to listen. 'Unless he has anything to say.'
'No, Sir,' returned Walter, agitated and confused, and almost stunned, as an infinite variety of pictures presented themselves to his mind; among which Captain Cuttle, in his glazed hat, transfixed with astonishment at Mrs MacStinger's, and his uncle bemoaning his loss in the little back parlour, held prominent places. 'I hardly know - I - I am much obliged, Sir.'
'He needn't wait, Carker,' said Mr Dombey.
And as Mr Carker again echoed the words, and also collected his papers as if he were going away too, Walter felt that his lingering any longer would be an unpardonable intrusion - especially as he had nothing to say - and therefore walked out quite confounded.
Going along the passage, with the mingled consciousness and helplessness of a dream, he heard Mr Dombey's door shut again, as Mr Carker came out: and immediately afterwards that gentleman called to him.
'Bring your friend Mr Carker the Junior to my room, Sir, if you please.'
Walter went to the outer office and apprised Mr Carker the Junior of his errand, who accordingly came out from behind a partition where he sat alone in one corner, and returned with him to the room of Mr Carker the Manager.
That gentleman was standing with his back to the fire, and his hands under his coat-tails, looking over his white cravat, as unpromisingly as Mr Dombey himself could have looked. He received them without any change in his attitude or softening of his harsh and black expression: merely signing to Walter to close the door.
'John Carker,' said the Manager, when this was done, turning suddenly upon his brother, with his two rows of teeth bristling as if he would have bitten him, 'what is the league between you and this young man, in virtue of which I am haunted and hunted by the mention of your name? Is it not enough for you, John Carker, that I am your near relation, and can't detach myself from that - '
'Say disgrace, James,' interposed the other in a low voice, finding that he stammered for a word. 'You mean it, and have reason, say disgrace.'
'From that disgrace,' assented his brother with keen emphasis, 'but is the fact to be blurted out and trumpeted, and proclaimed continually in the presence of the very House! In moments of confidence too? Do you think your name is calculated to harmonise in this place with trust and confidence, John Carker?'
'No,' returned the other. 'No, James. God knows I have no such thought.'
'What is your thought, then?' said his brother, 'and why do you thrust yourself in my way? Haven't you injured me enough already?'
'I have never injured you, James, wilfully.'
'You are my brother,' said the Manager. 'That's injury enough.'
'I wish I could undo it, James.'
'I wish you could and would.'
During this conversation, Walter had looked from one brother to the other, with pain and amazement. He who was the Senior in years, and Junior in the House, stood, with his eyes cast upon the ground, and his head bowed, humbly listening to the reproaches of the other. Though these were rendered very bitter by the tone and look with which they were accompanied, and by the presence of Walter whom they so much surprised and shocked, he entered no other protest against them than by slightly raising his right hand in a deprecatory manner, as if he would have said, 'Spare me!' So, had they been blows, and he a brave man, under strong constraint, and weakened by bodily suffering, he might have stood before the executioner.
Generous and quick in all his emotions, and regarding himself as the innocent occasion of these taunts, Walter now struck in, with all the earnestness he felt.
'Mr Carker,' he said, addressing himself to the Manager. 'Indeed, indeed, this is my fault solely. In a kind of heedlessness, for which I cannot blame myself enough, I have, I have no doubt, mentioned Mr Carker the Junior much oftener than was necessary; and have allowed his name sometimes to slip through my lips, when it was against your expressed wish. But it has been my own mistake, Sir. We have never exchanged one word upon the subject - very few, indeed, on any subject. And it has not been,' added Walter, after a moment's pause, 'all heedlessness on my part, Sir; for I have felt an interest in Mr Carker ever since I have been here, and have hardly been able to help speaking of him sometimes, when I have thought of him so much!'
Walter said this from his soul, and with the very breath of honour. For he looked upon the bowed head, and the downcast eyes, and upraised hand, and thought, 'I have felt it; and why should I not avow it in behalf of this unfriended, broken man!'
Mr Carker the Manager looked at him, as he spoke, and when he had finished speaking, with a smile that seemed to divide his face into two parts.
'You are an excitable youth, Gay,' he said; 'and should endeavour to cool down a little now, for it would be unwise to encourage feverish predispositions. Be as cool as you can, Gay. Be as cool as you can. You might have asked Mr John Carker himself (if you have not done so) whether he claims to be, or is, an object of such strong interest.'
'James, do me justice,' said his brother. 'I have claimed nothing; and I claim nothing. Believe me, on my -
'Honour?' said his brother, with another smile, as he warmed himself before the fire.
'On my Me - on my fallen life!' returned the other, in the same low voice, but with a deeper stress on his words than he had yet seemed capable of giving them. 'Believe me, I have held myself aloof, and kept alone. This has been unsought by me. I have avoided him and everyone.
'Indeed, you have avoided me, Mr Carker,' said Walter, with the tears rising to his eyes; so true was his compassion. 'I know it, to my disappointment and regret. When I first came here, and ever since, I am sure I have tried to be as much your friend, as one of my age could presume to be; but it has been of no use.
'And observe,' said the Manager, taking him up quickly, 'it will be of still less use, Gay, if you persist in forcing Mr John Carker's name on people's attention. That is not the way to befriend Mr John Carker. Ask him if he thinks it is.'
'It is no service to me,' said the brother. 'It only leads to such a conversation as the present, which I need not say I could have well spared. No one can be a better friend to me:' he spoke here very distinctly, as if he would impress it upon Walter: 'than in forgetting me, and leaving me to go my way, unquestioned and unnoticed.'
'Your memory not being retentive, Gay, of what you are told by others,' said Mr Carker the Manager, warming himself with great and increased satisfaction, 'I thought it well that you should be told this from the best authority,' nodding towards his brother. 'You are not likely to forget it now, I hope. That's all, Gay. You can go.
Walter passed out at the door, and was about to close it after him, when, hearing the voices of the brothers again, and also the mention of his own name, he stood irresolutely, with his hand upon the lock, and the door ajar, uncertain whether to return or go away. In this position he could not help overhearing what followed.
'Think of me more leniently, if you can, James,' said John Carker, 'when I tell you I have had - how could I help having, with my history, written here' - striking himself upon the breast - 'my whole heart awakened by my observation of that boy, Walter Gay. I saw in him when he first came here, almost my other self.'
'Your other self!' repeated the Manager, disdainfully.
'Not as I am, but as I was when I first came here too; as sanguine, giddy, youthful, inexperienced; flushed with the same restless and adventurous fancies; and full of the same qualities, fraught with the same capacity of leading on to good or evil.'
'I hope not,' said his brother, with some hidden and sarcastic meaning in his tone.
'You strike me sharply; and your hand is steady, and your thrust is very deep,' returned the other, speaking (or so Walter thought) as if some cruel weapon actually stabbed him as he spoke. 'I imagined all this when he was a boy. I believed it. It was a truth to me. I saw him lightly walking on the edge of an unseen gulf where so many others walk with equal gaiety, and from which
'The old excuse,' interrupted his brother, as he stirred the fire. 'So many. Go on. Say, so many fall.'
'From which ONE traveller fell,' returned the other, 'who set forward, on his way, a boy like him, and missed his footing more and more, and slipped a little and a little lower; and went on stumbling still, until he fell headlong and found himself below a shattered man. Think what I suffered, when I watched that boy.'
'You have only yourself to thank for it,' returned the brother.
'Only myself,' he assented with a sigh. 'I don't seek to divide the blame or shame.'
'You have divided the shame,' James Carker muttered through his teeth. And, through so many and such close teeth, he could mutter well.
'Ah, James,' returned his brother, speaking for the first time in an accent of reproach, and seeming, by the sound of his voice, to have covered his face with his hands, 'I have been, since then, a useful foil to you. You have trodden on me freely in your climbing up. Don't spurn me with your heel!'
A silence ensued. After a time, Mr Carker the Manager was heard rustling among his papers, as if he had resolved to bring the interview to a conclusion. At the same time his brother withdrew nearer to the door.
'That's all,' he said. 'I watched him with such trembling and such fear, as was some little punishment to me, until he passed the place where I first fell; and then, though I had been his father, I believe I never could have thanked God more devoutly. I didn't dare to warn him, and advise him; but if I had seen direct cause, I would have shown him my example. I was afraid to be seen speaking with him, lest it should be thought I did him harm, and tempted him to evil, and corrupted him: or lest I really should. There may be such contagion in me; I don't know. Piece out my history, in connexion with young Walter Gay, and what he has made me feel; and think of me more leniently, James, if you can.
With these words he came out to where Walter was standing. He turned a little paler when he saw him there, and paler yet when Walter caught him by the hand, and said in a whisper:
'Mr Carker, pray let me thank you! Let me say how much I feel for you! How sorry I am, to have been the unhappy cause of all this! How I almost look upon you now as my protector and guardian! How very, very much, I feel obliged to you and pity you!' said Walter, squeezing both his hands, and hardly knowing, in his agitation, what he did or said.
Mr Morfin's room being close at hand and empty, and the door wide open, they moved thither by one accord: the passage being seldom free from someone passing to or fro. When they were there, and Walter saw in Mr Carker's face some traces of the emotion within, he almost felt as if he had never seen the face before; it was so greatly changed.
'Walter,' he said, laying his hand on his shoulder. 'I am far removed from you, and may I ever be. Do you know what I am?'
'What you are!' appeared to hang on Walter's lips, as he regarded him attentively.
'It was begun,' said Carker, 'before my twenty-first birthday - led up to, long before, but not begun till near that time. I had robbed them when I came of age. I robbed them afterwards. Before my twenty-second birthday, it was all found out; and then, Walter, from all men's society, I died.'
Again his last few words hung trembling upon Walter's lips, but he could neither utter them, nor any of his own.
'The House was very good to me. May Heaven reward the old man for his forbearance! This one, too, his son, who was then newly in the Firm, where I had held great trust! I was called into that room which is now his - I have never entered it since - and came out, what you know me. For many years I sat in my present seat, alone as now, but then a known and recognised example to the rest. They were all merciful to me, and I lived. Time has altered that part of my poor expiation; and I think, except the three heads of the House, there is no one here who knows my story rightly. Before the little boy grows up, and has it told to him, my corner may be vacant. I would rather that it might be so! This is the only change to me since that day, when I left all youth, and hope, and good men's company, behind me in that room. God bless you, Walter! Keep you, and all dear to you, in honesty, or strike them dead!'
Some recollection of his trembling from head to foot, as if with excessive cold, and of his bursting into tears, was all that Walter could add to this, when he tried to recall exactly what had passed between them.
When Walter saw him next, he was bending over his desk in his old silent, drooping, humbled way. Then, observing him at his work, and feeling how resolved he evidently was that no further intercourse should arise between them, and thinking again and again on all he had seen and heard that morning in so short a time, in connexion with the history of both the Carkers, Walter could hardly believe that he was under orders for the West Indies, and would soon be lost to Uncle Sol, and Captain Cuttle, and to glimpses few and far between of Florence Dombey - no, he meant Paul - and to all he loved, and liked, and looked for, in his daily life.
But it was true, and the news had already penetrated to the outer office; for while he sat with a heavy heart, pondering on these things, and resting his head upon his arm, Perch the messenger, descending from his mahogany bracket, and jogging his elbow, begged his pardon, but wished to say in his ear, Did he think he could arrange to send home to England a jar of preserved Ginger, cheap, for Mrs Perch's own eating, in the course of her recovery from her next confinement?
 董贝先生的营业所的办公室是在一个院子里;院子的角落里很久以来就设有一个出卖精选水果的货摊;男女行商在院子里向顾客兜售拖鞋、笔记本、海绵、狗的颈圈、温莎①肥皂;有时还出售一条猎狗(它能用鼻尖指示猎获物所在处)或一幅油画。
  指示猎物的猎狗经常在那里出现,是考虑到证券交易所的人们可能对它会有兴趣,因为证券交易所里对运动的爱好很时兴(通常最早是从对新奇事物的打赌开始的)。其他的商品面向一般公众,但商贩们从来没有向董贝先生兜售过它们。当他出现的时候,出售这些货物的商人们都恭恭敬敬地向后退缩。当董贝先生走过的时候,拖鞋与狗的颈圈的主要商人把食指举到帽边行礼(这位商人认为自己是一位公众活动家,他的画像被钉在切普赛德街②)。搬运员如果当时不是因事不在的话,总是殷勤地跑到前面去把董贝先生营业所办公室的门尽量开得大大的;当董贝先生进门的时候,他脱下帽子,把门按住。
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  ①温莎(Windsor):英国城市。
  ②切普赛德街(Cheapside):伦敦中部东西向的大街,古时为闹市。
  办公室里的职员们在显示敬意上丝毫也不逊色。当董贝先生走过最外面的一间办公室时,房间里一片肃静。会计室里那位富有机智、好说俏皮话的人片刻间就像挂在他后面的一排皮制的消防桶一样默不作声。通过毛玻璃窗与天窗渗透进来的日光缺乏生气,暗淡无力,在玻璃上面留下了一个黑色的沉淀物;它照出了帐册、票据以及低头弯腰坐在它们前面的人们的身影,他们被一片勤勉而阴郁的气氛笼罩着,从外表看来,他们与外界完全隔绝,仿佛是聚集在海底似的;幽暗的走廊尽头的一间生了霉的小金库(那里老是点着一盏灯)则可以代表某个海中妖怪的洞穴,那妖怪用一只红眼睛看着海底深处的这些神秘事物。
  信差珀奇像时钟一样,在托架上有一个座位①。当他看到董贝先生进来——或者正确地说,当他感觉到他正在进来,因为他通常对他的来到有一种直觉——的时候,他就急忙走进董贝先生的房间,捅一捅火,从煤箱的深处挖出新鲜的煤块,把报纸挂在火炉围栏上烘暖,把椅子摆好,并把围屏移到适当的位置;在董贝先生进来的那一瞬间,他立即转过身去,接下他的厚大衣和帽子,把它们挂好。然后珀奇取下报纸,在炉前把它在手里转上一两转,毕恭毕敬地放在董贝先生的身边。珀奇向董贝先生表示最大程度的敬意,他是丝毫也没有什么不愿意的;如果他可以躺在董贝先生的脚边,或者可以用人们通常对哈里发何鲁纳·拉施德②所使用的那样一些尊称来称呼他的话,那么他就只会感到更加高兴。
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  ①有一种小钟是摆放在托架上的,称为托架小钟(bracketclock)。
  ②《天方夜谭》(或译《一千零一夜》)故事中的一位阿拉伯国王。在阿拉伯语中,哈里发是王位继承人的意思,后成为阿拉伯国王的通称。
  但由于采用这种致敬的方式将会是一种革新与试验,所以珀奇乐意按照他自己的方式,用他所能表达的话来满足自己的心愿:“您是我眼睛的亮光。您是我心灵的气息。您是忠实的珀奇的司令官!”这样高高兴兴、但意犹未竟地向他表达敬意之后,他就会轻轻地关上门,踮着脚走出去,把他伟大的老板留下,让丑陋的烟囱顶管、房屋的后墙、特别是二层楼理发厅的一扇突出的窗子,通过圆顶形的窗子,凝视着他(那理发厅里有一个蜡象,早上像穆斯林一样,头光秃秃的,十一点钟以后则仿照基督徒最时新的式样,蓄着连鬓胡子,它永远向董贝先生显露出它的后脑壳)。
  董贝先生与普通世界之间有两级阶梯(因为要通过外面的办公室才能到达那个世界,而董贝先生在他自己的房间中,对外面的办公室来说可以说是泼上了冷水或者吹去了冷空气一样)。在自己办公室中的卡克先生是第一级阶梯;在自己办公室中的莫芬先生是第二阶梯。这两位先生每人都有一个像浴室般大小的房间,房门通向董贝先生门外的过道。作为内阁总理的卡克先生待在最挨近皇帝的房间里;作为职位略低的官员,莫芬先生待在最挨近职员们的房间里。
  最后提到的这位先生是一位神情愉快、眼睛淡褐色、年纪较大的单身汉;他衣着庄重,上半身黑色,腿部是胡椒与盐的颜色。他的黑发中间这里那里夹杂着灰色的斑点。仿佛是时间老人行进时溅泼上的;他的连鬓胡子早已白了。他非常尊敬董贝先生,并向他表示适当的顺从,但由于他是一位性格愉快的人,在那位庄严的人的面前总是感到局促不安,所以他从来没有因为妒嫉卡克先生参加过许多商谈而烦恼;由于他必须履行他的职责,他很少得到那份特殊的光荣,他还为此暗暗感到高兴。他在某种程度上是一位伟大的业余音乐爱好者,对他的大提琴怀着父亲般的感情;他每个星期都要把它从他在伊斯灵顿①寓所搬到银行邻近的某个俱乐部里;有一个私人乐团每星期三晚上都在那里演出最令人伤心断肠的四重奏。
  --------
  ①伊斯灵顿(Islington):英格兰大伦敦内一自治市。
  卡克先生是一位三十八岁或四十岁的有身份的先生,脸色红润,有两排完整发亮的牙齿,那种整齐和白色使人看了十分难受。要想避开它们是不可能的,因为他一讲话总是露出它们;他微笑的时候嘴巴张得十分宽阔(可是他的微笑很少浮现在嘴巴以外的脸上),因此其中总有某些像猫叫一样的东西。他仿效他的老板,爱系一条硬挺的白领带,衣服穿得紧紧贴贴,总是扣上全部钮扣。他对待董贝先生的态度是经过深思熟虑的,而且出色地表达出来。他跟他无拘无束,但又深知他们之间存在的距离。“董贝先生,根据我们之间的业务关系,一位像我这种地位的人向一位像您这种地位的人不论表示什么样效忠的敬意,我都不认为已经足够了。坦率地对您说,先生,我完全否认这一点。我觉得我做得还不能使我自己称心满意;天知道,董贝先生,如果免除我进行这种努力,那么您怎么还能受得了。”如果他把这些话印在招贴上,放在他外衣的胸前,供董贝先生随时阅读,他也不会比他的行为表露得更为明显的了。
  这就是经理卡克。沃尔特的朋友,低级职员卡克先生是他的哥哥,比他大两三岁,但地位比他低一大截。弟弟的位子是在职务阶梯的顶端,哥哥的位子则是在它的最底层。哥哥从来没有上升到上面的一个梯级或者抬起脚来攀登一下。年轻人从他的头顶跨越过去,步步高升,但他总是在最底层。他对占有那个低下的地位完全心安理得,从不抱怨,当然也从来不希望改变它。
  “您今天早上好吗?”有一天董贝先生来到之后不久,经理卡克先生手里拿着一卷公文,走进他的房间,问道。
  “您好吗,卡克?”董贝先生从椅子上站起来,背对着壁炉,问道,“您有什么事情需要告诉我的?”
  “我不知道我是否需要打扰您,”卡克翻着手中的公文,回答道;“您知道,今天三点钟,委员会有一个会议您要参加。”
  “还有一个会议是在三点三刻,”董贝先生补充说道。
  “您从来不会忘记任何事情!”卡克高声喊道,一边仍在翻着公文。“如果保罗少爷把您的记性继承了下来,那么他将成为使公司不得安宁的人物了。有您一位就已足够了。”
  “您自己的记性也很好,”董贝先生说道。
  “啊,我吗?”经理回答道。“像我这样的人,这是唯一的资本哪。”
  董贝先生背靠着壁炉,站在那里,从头到脚打量着他的下属(当然是无意识的),这时他那高傲自负的神色没有稍减半分,也没有任何不愉快的样子。卡克先生严谨而雅致的衣着和有几分妄自尊大的态度(也许是他生性如此,也许是从离他不远的榜样中模仿到的)给他的谦恭增添了特别的效果。如果他能够的话,他似乎是一位会对征服他的力量进行反抗的人;但是董贝先生的崇高与优越的地位却把他完全压倒了。
  “莫芬在这里吗?”董贝先生在短短的沉默之后,问道;卡克先生在那段时间中一直在翻着他的公文,并自言自语地嘀咕几句公文的摘要。
  “莫芬在这里,”他抬起眼睛,露出那极为宽阔、极为急速的微笑,回答道:“正通过我们之间的隔墙哼唱着,我想大概是回想他昨天四重奏乐团的音乐吧,它把我弄得都快要疯了。我真希望他把他的大提琴烧了,把他的乐谱也一道扔到火里去。”
  “我觉得,您什么人也不尊敬,卡克,”董贝先生说道。
  “是吗?”卡克问道,一边又露出了一个宽阔的、极为狡诈的微笑,露出了他的牙齿;“唔!不是对好多人都尊敬,我想。也许是,”他低声嘀咕着,仿佛他只是在想这件事,“我不想对一个以上的人负责。”
  如果这是真的话,那么这是危险的品质;如果这是假装的话,那么它也同样危险。可是董贝先生似乎并不这样想;这时他挺直了身子,仍旧背对着壁炉站着,同时威严而镇静地望着他下属中这位第一把手,在神态中似乎对他自己的权力隐藏着比平时更为强烈的潜在的意识。
  “说到莫芬。”卡克先生从公文中抽出一页纸来,继续说道,“他报告说,巴巴多斯①代销处的一位低级职员死了,因此建议为接替他的人订购一张船票,乘‘儿子与继承人’这条船去,它大约在一个月左右开航。我想,您认为谁去都一样吧?我们这里没有合适的人。”
  --------
  ①巴巴多斯(Barbados):位于西印度群岛最东端,为一珊瑚岛;在狄更斯写作此书时,它是英国的殖民地。
  董贝先生非常漠不关心地点点头。
  “这不是一项很重要的任命,”卡克先生取出一支笔,在公文背面签署了意见。“我想他可能把这个职位赠送给一位孤儿,他一位音乐朋友的侄子了。它也许会终止他的提琴演奏,如果他有那方面的天赋的话。是谁?进来吧!”
  “请原谅,卡克先生。我不知道您在这里,先生,”沃尔特手里拿了几封没有启封的新到的信件,走进来,回答道:
  “是低级职员卡克先生,先生——”
  经理卡克先生一听到这个名字,立刻被触到了痛处,感到羞耻与屈辱,或者装出这种样子;他换了一副抱歉的神色,低垂着眼睛,注视着董贝先生,片刻间一言不发。
  “我想,先生,”他突然怒冲冲地转身对着沃尔特,说道:“我以前曾经请求您在谈话中别把低级职员卡克先生扯进来的。”
  “请您原谅,”沃尔特回答道。“我只是想要说,低级职员卡克先生告诉我,他想您出去了;否则,您与董贝先生正有事商谈的时候,我就不会来敲门了。这些是给董贝先生的信,先生。”
  “很好,先生,”经理卡克先生把信从他手里猛抢过去,回答道。“回去干您的事情去吧。”
  可是卡克先生把信拿到手里那样随便无礼,因此他把一封信掉在地上了,而且他自己还没有注意到这一点。董贝先生也没有留意到掉在他脚边的那封信。沃尔特迟疑了一会儿,心想他们两人当中这一位或那一位会注意到的,但发现他们谁也没有注意到,他就停下脚步,走回来,把它捡起来,亲自搁在董贝先生的办公桌上。这些信都是邮寄来的;我们提到的这封信碰巧是皮普钦太太的定期报告,寄发地址像往常一样,是由弗洛伦斯写的,因为皮普钦太太是一位不擅长写字的女人。当董贝先生的注意力被沃尔特默默地吸引到这封信的时候,他吃了一惊,凶猛地看着他,仿佛他相信他是故意把它从所有信中挑出来似的。
  “您可以离开这个房间了,先生,”董贝先生傲慢地说道。
  他把信在手里揉成一团,注视着沃尔特走出门外以后,没有启封就把它塞进衣袋。
  “您刚才说,您要派一个人到西印度群岛去,”董贝先生急忙说道。
  “是的,”卡克回答道。
  “派年轻人盖伊去。”
  “好,确实很好。没有什么比这更容易的了,”卡克先生说道;他没有露出任何惊奇的表情,而是像先前一样,冷冰冰地在公文背面重新签署了意见。“派年轻人盖伊去。”
  “喊他回来,”董贝先生说道。
  卡克先生迅速照办;沃尔特也迅速地回来了。
  “盖伊,”董贝先生稍稍转过身子,以便回过头来看着他。
  “有一个——”
  “空缺,”卡克先生嘴巴张得极为宽阔地说道。
  “在西印度群岛。在巴巴多斯。我打算派您去,”董贝先生说道;他不屑美化明摆着的事实真相,“去接替巴巴多斯会计室里一个低级的职位。请代我转告您的舅舅,我已选择您到西印度群岛去了。”
  沃尔特惊愕得完全停止了呼吸,因此连“西印度群岛”这几个字也不能重复说出来。
  “总得派个人去,”董贝先生说道,“您年轻,健康,舅舅的境况又不好。告诉您舅舅,已经指派您了。现在还不走。还有一个月的时间——或者也许是两个月。”
  “我将留在那里吗,先生?”沃尔特问道。
  “您将留在那里吗,先生!”董贝先生把身子朝他那边稍稍转过来一点,重复地说道。“您的话是什么意思?他的话是什么意思,卡克?”
  “住在那里,先生,”沃尔特结结巴巴地说道。
  “当然,”董贝先生回答道。
  沃尔特鞠了个躬。
  “我的话已经说完了,”董贝先生说道,一边重新看他的信。“当然,卡克,您在适当的时候向他交代一下旅行用品等等事情。他不必待在这里了,卡克。”
  “您不必待在这里了,盖伊,”卡克先生露出牙床,说道。
  “除非,”董贝先生说道,他停止阅读,但眼睛没有离开信件,好像在听话似的。“除非他有什么话要说。”
  “没有,先生,”沃尔特回答道;当无数种形形色色的景象涌现到他的心头时,他感到激动和慌乱,几乎昏了过去;在这些景象当中,卡特尔船长戴着上了光的帽子,在麦克斯廷杰太太家里惊愕得目瞪口呆;他的舅舅在小后客厅里悲叹着他的损失,是最为突出的两幅。“我实在不知道——我——我很感谢,先生。”
  “他不必待在这里了,卡克,”董贝先生说道。
  卡克先生又随声重复了这句话,而且还收拾着他的公文,仿佛他也要走似的,这时候沃尔特觉得他再迟延下去就会是不可原谅的打扰了——特别是他已没有什么话要说的了——,因此就十分狼狈地走出了办公室。
  他沿着走廊走过去,像在梦中一样感到既清醒而又束手无策,这时候他听到卡克先生走出来时董贝先生的房门又关上的声音,因为在这之后,这位先生立即喊住了他。
  “劳驾您把您的朋友,低级职员卡克先生领到我的房间里来,先生。”
  沃尔特走到外面的办公室里,把他的使命告诉了低级职员卡克先生。于是低级职员卡克先生就从一个隔板后面(他单独坐在一个角落里)走出来,沃尔特跟他一起回到经理卡克先生的房间里。
  那位先生背对着壁炉站着,手抄在燕尾服里面,从白领带上面看着前面,那种严厉可怕的神色只有董贝先生本人才能有。他接待他们的时候,丝毫没有改变姿势或使他那生硬与阴沉的表情柔和下来,而仅仅向沃尔特示意,要他把门关上。
  “约翰·卡克,”门关上以后,经理突然转向他的哥哥,露出两排牙齿,仿佛想要咬他似的。“您跟这位年轻人之间订立了什么同盟,凭着它,把我的名字挂在嘴上,来跟我纠缠不休?约翰·卡克,难道你觉得还不够吗?我是你的近亲,不能摆脱掉那份——”
  “说耻辱吧,詹姆斯,”另一位看到他在整个词上结巴住了,就低声插嘴道。“你是想这样说,也有理由这样说的,就说耻辱吧。”
  “那份耻辱,”他的弟弟同意,并强烈地加重了语气,“可是难道有必要把这事实在公司的老板面前不断地吆喝、张扬和通告吗?甚至在我受到信任的时候也要这样做吗?你以为提到你的名字跟在这里博得信赖与重用是协调的吗,约翰·卡克?”
  “不是,”那一位回答道。“不是,詹姆斯。上帝知道,我没有这样的想法。”
  “那么,你的想法是什么呢?”他的弟弟说道,“你又为什么硬要挡住我的道路?难道你还嫌伤害我不够吗?”
  “我从来没有故意伤害过你,詹姆斯。”
  “你是我的哥哥,”经理说道,“这伤害就足够了。”
  “我但愿我能消除这个伤害,詹姆斯。”
  “我但愿你能消除它,而且将消除它。”
  在这谈话中间,沃尔特怀着痛苦与惊奇的心情,望望这一位,又望望那一位弟兄。那位年龄较大、但在公司里职务很低的人的眼睛向地面低垂着,脑袋搭拉着,站在那里,恭顺地听着另一位的谴责。虽然谴责的语气很尖刻,神色很严厉,而且当着震惊的沃尔特的面,但他却没有表示什么抗议,而只是用哀求的态度,稍稍抬起右手,仿佛想说:“饶恕我吧!”如果这些谴责是打击,而他是一位体力衰弱的勇士,那么他也会在刽子手面前站着。
  沃尔特在感情上是一位宽厚与急躁的人,他认为他本人是无意间引起这些辱骂的原因,所以这时怀着诚挚的心情插进来说话。
  “卡克先生,”他对经理说道,“这完全是我一个人的过错,这一点是千真万确的。由于我粗心大意,这一点我怎么责怪自己也不会过分,因此我,我,毫无疑问,我经常提到职务较低的卡克先生,提到的次数大大地超过了必要,有时我也允许让他的名字脱口而出地说了出来,而这是违背您的明确的意愿的。但这都是我本人的错误,先生。我们从没有在这个问题上交谈过一句话——说实在的,我们在任何问题上都很少交谈。就我这方面来说,先生,”沃尔特停了片刻之后,接着说道,“也并不是完全由于粗心大意。自从我到这里来以后,我对卡克先生一直很感兴趣,当我多么想念他的时候,有时就情不自禁地提到了他。”
  沃尔特是真心诚意,并怀着高尚的心情讲这些话的。因为他看到那搭拉的脑袋、低垂的眼睛和抬起的手,心中想道,“我感觉到这点;我为什么不为这位孤立无援、伤心失望的人认错呢?”
  “事实上,您一直在避开我,卡克先生,”沃尔特说道;他对他真正感到怜悯,因此泪水都涌到眼睛里了。“我知道这一点,它使我感到失望和惋惜。当我初到这里来的时候,而且从那时候起,我确实很想成为您的好朋友,像我这样年龄的人所指望的那样,可是一切都是白费心思。”
  “请注意,盖伊,”经理迅速接过他的话头,说下去,“如果您还像过去那么硬要人们注意约翰·卡克的名字的话,那么您还会更加白费心思。那不是以朋友态度对待约翰·卡克先生的方式。问问他,他是不是这样认为的?”
  “那对我不是帮助,”哥哥说道。“它只会引起像现在这样的一场谈话;我不用说,我本来很可以避免参加的。谁要想成为我更好的朋友,”这时他说得很清楚,仿佛想要引起沃尔特的格外注意似的,“那就是忘掉我,让我没人理睬、默默无闻地过我自己的日子。”
  “别人对您说的话您是记不住的,盖伊,”经理卡克先生感到极为满意,心情兴奋起来,“所以我想应当让最有权威的人来对您说这一点,”这时他向他的哥哥点了点头,“我希望现在您不至于再把这忘掉了吧。这就是我要说的一切。盖伊。
  您可以走了。”
  沃尔特走到门口,正想把门在身后关上,这时他又听到了兄弟两人的声音,而且还提到了他自己的名字,于是犹豫不决地站住,手还握着门的拉手,门还半开着,他不知道究竟是回去还是走开。在这种情况下,他不是有意地听到了随后发生的谈话。
  “如果你能够的话,詹姆斯,请想到我的时候宽厚一些吧,”约翰·卡克说道,“当我告诉你,我对那孩子,沃尔特·盖伊的观察,已把我整个心灵都唤醒了;——我怎么能不这样呢。我的历史写在这里,”——这时他敲打着自己的胸膛——“当他初到这里来的时候,我在他身上看到了几乎是另一个我。”
  “另一个你!”经理轻蔑地重复着。
  “并不是现在的我,而是也是初到这里时的我,那时候我跟他一样乐观、轻率、年轻、没有经验,跟他一样扬扬得意地充满了永不平静、爱好冒险的幻想,跟他一样赋有能通向善良或通向邪恶的品质。”
  “我希望不是,”他的弟弟说道,语气中有着某种隐藏的与讽刺的意义。
  “你把我刺得很痛;你的手没有颤抖,你戳进得很深,”另一位回答道,仿佛在他说话的时候,什么残酷的武器真正捅了他似的(或者沃尔特觉得是这样)。“当他初到这里来的时候,我想像着这一切。我相信它。对我来说,这是真实的。我看到他在一个看不到的深渊的边缘轻快地走着,那么多其他的人们都以同样愉快的神情在那里走着,并且从那里——”
  “老借口,”弟弟捅捅炉火,插嘴道,“那么多的人们。说下去吧。说,那么多的人们掉下去了。”
  “一位走着的人从那里掉下去了;”另一位回答道,“一位像他那样的孩子开始走上路途,一次又一次地失足,一点一点地往下滑,继续摔倒,直到后来,他倒栽葱地掉下去,并在底层发现他自己成了一个体无完肤的人。请想一想当我注意观察那个孩子的时候,我心里是多么痛苦呵。”
  “那只能怪你自己,”弟弟回答道。
  “只怪我自己,”他叹了一口气,表示同意。“·我不想寻找别人来分担我的罪过或耻辱。”
  “你·已·经让别人来分担你的耻辱了,”詹姆斯·卡克通过他的牙齿咕哝着。虽然他的牙齿那么多那么密,但是他却能咕哝得清清楚楚。
  “啊,詹姆斯,”他的哥哥回答道;他第一次用责备的声调说话,而且从他说话的声音听起来,他似乎用手捂着脸,“从那时起,我就成了你的一个有用的衬托物。在你向上爬的时候,你任意地践踏我。请别用你的脚后跟踢我吧!”
  接着是静默无声。过了一些时候,只听到经理卡克沙沙地翻阅公文的声音,仿佛他已决定结束这次会晤了。在这同时,他的哥哥退到门口。
  “这就是一切,”他说道。“我是那么担心、那么害怕地注意观察着他,就像这是对我的一种小小的惩罚一样,直到他走过了我第一次失足掉下的地方,那时候我相信,即使我是他的父亲,我也不会比那更为虔诚地感谢上帝的了。我不敢预先警戒他,向他提出忠告;但是如果我看到了直接的原因的话,那么我就会向他显示我本人经历过的先例。我怕被别人看到我跟他讲话,唯恐人们会认为我加害于他,引诱他走向邪恶,使他堕落,或者唯恐我真正这样做。也许在我身上有这种传染性的病毒;有谁知道呢?请把我的历史跟沃尔特·盖伊联系起来想一下,也请把它跟他使我产生的感觉联系起来想一下,詹姆斯,如果你能够的话,那么请想到我的时候更宽厚一些吧!”
  他说完这些话之后,走出到沃尔特站着的地方。当他看到他在那里的时候,他的脸色稍稍比先前苍白了一些;当沃尔特抓住他的手,低声说了下面一些话的时候,他的脸色就白得更厉害了。
  “卡克先生,请允许我谢谢您!请允许我说,我对您是多么同情!我成了这一切的根由,我是多么遗憾!我现在几乎把您看成是我的保卫者与庇护人了!我是多么多么感谢您和可怜您啊!”沃尔特紧紧地握着他的双手,说道;他在激动中几乎不知道他做了什么事情或说了什么话。
  莫芬先生的房间就在近旁,里面没有人,门敞开着;他们就不约而同地向里面走去,因为走廊里是难得让人自由来回经过的。当他们到了里面的时候,沃尔特在卡克先生的脸上看到心慌意乱的迹象,这时他几乎感到他以前从来没有见过他的脸孔似的;它变化得多么大啊。
  “沃尔特,”他把手搁在他的肩膀上,说道。“我跟您之间隔着一段很远的距离,让我们永远这样吧。您知道我是什么人吗?”
  “您是什么人!”当沃尔特目不转睛地注视着他的时候,这句话好像已经到了他的嘴边了。
  “那是在我二十一周岁之前开始的,”卡克说道,“——很久以前早就有了这样的趋向,但一直到大概那个时候才开始。当我开始成年的时候。我盗窃了他们的钱财。后来我又盗窃了他们的钱财。在我二十二周岁之前,全都被发觉了;从那之后,沃尔特,对于整个人类社会来说,我已经死了。”
  他最后的那几个字又颤抖着到了沃尔特的嘴边,但是他说不出来,也说不出他自己想要说的任何一句话。
  “公司对我很好。那位老人宽大为怀,愿上天为此好好报答他吧!这一位,他的儿子,也一样;那时他刚刚到公司里来,而我在公司里是曾经得到很大信任的!我被召唤到现在属于他的房间里——从那时以后,我再也没有进去过——,出来以后就成了一位您所知道的人。我在我现在的位子上坐了许多年,像现在一样孤独,但那时候对其余的人来说,我成了一个有名的、公认的榜样。他们对我都很仁慈,我也活下来了。随着时间的推移,我在痛苦赎罪的这一方面已经有了改变;我想,现在除了公司的三位头头以外,这里没有一个人真正了解我的历史。在那个小孩子长大,并把这件事告诉他之前,我的那个角落可能是个空缺。我希望就这样!从那天起,对我来说,这是唯一的变化;那天我们青春、希望和与善良人们的交往都留在我身后的那间房间里了。上帝保佑您!沃尔特!让您自己和所有对您亲爱的人们都保持着诚实的品质吧,否则就让他们不得好死!”
  当沃尔特试图准确地回忆他们之间所发生的一切经过的时候,除了上面的情况外,他所能记起的就是他仿佛感到过度寒冷似的,从头到脚,全身颤抖着,而且痛哭流涕。
  当沃尔特再次看到他的时候,他又以过去那种不声不响、意气消沉、卑躬屈节的态度伏在他的办公桌前。那时他看到他正在工作,并觉得他显然已坚决不再跟他来往,而且一再想到那天上午在短短的时间中所看到的和所听到的与两位卡克历史有关的所有事情,沃尔特几乎不相信:他已接到前往西印度群岛的命令;所尔舅舅和卡特尔船长不久就将失去他;弗洛伦斯·董贝——不,他是说保罗——不久将不再跟他次数很少、而且远远地相互看上几眼了;他日常生活中所热爱、喜欢与依恋的一切不久就将跟他告别了。
  可是这是真实的,消息已流传到外面的办公室中,因为当他一只手支托着头,并怀着沉重的心情坐在那里沉思着这些事情的时候,信差珀奇从他的红木托架上下来,轻轻地推推他的胳膊肘,请他原谅,但又凑着他的耳朵,向他请求说,他想他能不能设法送回一罐价格便宜的腌制的生姜到英国来,好让珀奇太太在下次分娩后康复的过程中滋补滋补身体?


慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 14
Paul grows more and more Old-fashioned, and goes Home for the Holidays
When the Midsummer vacation approached, no indecent manifestations of joy were exhibited by the leaden-eyed young gentlemen assembled at Doctor Blimber's. Any such violent expression as 'breaking up,' would have been quite inapplicable to that polite establishment. The young gentlemen oozed away, semi-annually, to their own homes; but they never broke up. They would have scorned the action.
Tozer, who was constantly galled and tormented by a starched white cambric neckerchief, which he wore at the express desire of Mrs Tozer, his parent, who, designing him for the Church, was of opinion that he couldn't be in that forward state of preparation too soon - Tozer said, indeed, that choosing between two evils, he thought he would rather stay where he was, than go home. However inconsistent this declaration might appear with that passage in Tozer's Essay on the subject, wherein he had observed 'that the thoughts of home and all its recollections, awakened in his mind the most pleasing emotions of anticipation and delight,' and had also likened himself to a Roman General, flushed with a recent victory over the Iceni, or laden with Carthaginian spoil, advancing within a few hours' march of the Capitol, presupposed, for the purposes of the simile, to be the dwelling-place of Mrs Tozer, still it was very sincerely made. For it seemed that Tozer had a dreadful Uncle, who not only volunteered examinations of him, in the holidays, on abstruse points, but twisted innocent events and things, and wrenched them to the same fell purpose. So that if this Uncle took him to the Play, or, on a similar pretence of kindness, carried him to see a Giant, or a Dwarf, or a Conjuror, or anything, Tozer knew he had read up some classical allusion to the subject beforehand, and was thrown into a state of mortal apprehension: not foreseeing where he might break out, or what authority he might not quote against him.
As to Briggs, his father made no show of artifice about it. He never would leave him alone. So numerous and severe were the mental trials of that unfortunate youth in vacation time, that the friends of the family (then resident near Bayswater, London) seldom approached the ornamental piece of water in Kensington Gardens,' without a vague expectation of seeing Master Briggs's hat floating on the surface, and an unfinished exercise lying on the bank. Briggs, therefore, was not at all sanguine on the subject of holidays; and these two sharers of little Paul's bedroom were so fair a sample of the young gentlemen in general, that the most elastic among them contemplated the arrival of those festive periods with genteel resignation.
It was far otherwise with little Paul. The end of these first holidays was to witness his separation from Florence, but who ever looked forward to the end of holidays whose beginning was not yet come! Not Paul, assuredly. As the happy time drew near, the lions and tigers climbing up the bedroom walls became quite tame and frolicsome. The grim sly faces in the squares and diamonds of the floor-cloth, relaxed and peeped out at him with less wicked eyes. The grave old clock had more of personal interest in the tone of its formal inquiry; and the restless sea went rolling on all night, to the sounding of a melancholy strain - yet it was pleasant too - that rose and fell with the waves, and rocked him, as it were, to sleep.
Mr Feeder, B.A., seemed to think that he, too, would enjoy the holidays very much. Mr Toots projected a life of holidays from that time forth; for, as he regularly informed Paul every day, it was his 'last half' at Doctor Blimber's, and he was going to begin to come into his property directly.
It was perfectly understood between Paul and Mr Toots, that they were intimate friends, notwithstanding their distance in point of years and station. As the vacation approached, and Mr Toots breathed harder and stared oftener in Paul's society, than he had done before, Paul knew that he meant he was sorry they were going to lose sight of each other, and felt very much obliged to him for his patronage and good opinion.
It was even understood by Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber, as well as by the young gentlemen in general, that Toots had somehow constituted himself protector and guardian of Dombey, and the circumstance became so notorious, even to Mrs Pipchin, that the good old creature cherished feelings of bitterness and jealousy against Toots; and, in the sanctuary of her own home, repeatedly denounced him as a 'chuckle-headed noodle.' Whereas the innocent Toots had no more idea of awakening Mrs Pipchin's wrath, than he had of any other definite possibility or proposition. On the contrary, he was disposed to consider her rather a remarkable character, with many points of interest about her. For this reason he smiled on her with so much urbanity, and asked her how she did, so often, in the course of her visits to little Paul, that at last she one night told him plainly, she wasn't used to it, whatever he might think; and she could not, and she would not bear it, either from himself or any other puppy then existing: at which unexpected acknowledgment of his civilities, Mr Toots was so alarmed that he secreted himself in a retired spot until she had gone. Nor did he ever again face the doughty Mrs Pipchin, under Doctor Blimber's roof.
They were within two or three weeks of the holidays, when, one day, Cornelia Blimber called Paul into her room, and said, 'Dombey, I am going to send home your analysis.'
'Thank you, Ma'am,' returned Paul.
'You know what I mean, do you, Dombey?' inquired Miss Blimber, looking hard at him, through the spectacles.
'No, Ma'am,' said Paul.
'Dombey, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, 'I begin to be afraid you are a sad boy. When you don't know the meaning of an expression, why don't you seek for information?'
'Mrs Pipchin told me I wasn't to ask questions,' returned Paul.
'I must beg you not to mention Mrs Pipchin to me, on any account, Dombey,' returned Miss Blimber. 'I couldn't think of allowing it. The course of study here, is very far removed from anything of that sort. A repetition of such allusions would make it necessary for me to request to hear, without a mistake, before breakfast-time to-morrow morning, from Verbum personale down to simillimia cygno.'
'I didn't mean, Ma'am - ' began little Paul.
'I must trouble you not to tell me that you didn't mean, if you please, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, who preserved an awful politeness in her admonitions. 'That is a line of argument I couldn't dream of permitting.'
Paul felt it safest to say nothing at all, so he only looked at Miss Blimber's spectacles. Miss Blimber having shaken her head at him gravely, referred to a paper lying before her.
'"Analysis of the character of P. Dombey." If my recollection serves me,' said Miss Blimber breaking off, 'the word analysis as opposed to synthesis, is thus defined by Walker. "The resolution of an object, whether of the senses or of the intellect, into its first elements." As opposed to synthesis, you observe. Now you know what analysis is, Dombey.'
Dombey didn't seem to be absolutely blinded by the light let in upon his intellect, but he made Miss Blimber a little bow.
'"Analysis,"' resumed Miss Blimber, casting her eye over the paper, '"of the character of P. Dombey." I find that the natural capacity of Dombey is extremely good; and that his general disposition to study may be stated in an equal ratio. Thus, taking eight as our standard and highest number, I find these qualities in Dombey stated each at six three-fourths!'
Miss Blimber paused to see how Paul received this news. Being undecided whether six three-fourths meant six pounds fifteen, or sixpence three farthings, or six foot three, or three quarters past six, or six somethings that he hadn't learnt yet, with three unknown something elses over, Paul rubbed his hands and looked straight at Miss Blimber. It happened to answer as well as anything else he could have done; and Cornelia proceeded.
'"Violence two. Selfishness two. Inclination to low company, as evinced in the case of a person named Glubb, originally seven, but since reduced. Gentlemanly demeanour four, and improving with advancing years." Now what I particularly wish to call your attention to, Dombey, is the general observation at the close of this analysis.'
Paul set himself to follow it with great care.
'"It may be generally observed of Dombey,"' said Miss Blimber, reading in a loud voice, and at every second word directing her spectacles towards the little figure before her: '"that his abilities and inclinations are good, and that he has made as much progress as under the circumstances could have been expected. But it is to be lamented of this young gentleman that he is singular (what is usually termed old-fashioned) in his character and conduct, and that, without presenting anything in either which distinctly calls for reprobation, he is often very unlike other young gentlemen of his age and social position." Now, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, laying down the paper, 'do you understand that?'
'I think I do, Ma'am,' said Paul.
'This analysis, you see, Dombey,' Miss Blimber continued, 'is going to be sent home to your respected parent. It will naturally be very painful to him to find that you are singular in your character and conduct. It is naturally painful to us; for we can't like you, you know, Dombey, as well as we could wish.'
She touched the child upon a tender point. He had secretly become more and more solicitous from day to day, as the time of his departure drew more near, that all the house should like him. From some hidden reason, very imperfectly understood by himself - if understood at all - he felt a gradually increasing impulse of affection, towards almost everything and everybody in the place. He could not bear to think that they would be quite indifferent to him when he was gone. He wanted them to remember him kindly; and he had made it his business even to conciliate a great hoarse shaggy dog, chained up at the back of the house, who had previously been the terror of his life: that even he might miss him when he was no longer there.
Little thinking that in this, he only showed again the difference between himself and his compeers, poor tiny Paul set it forth to Miss Blimber as well as he could, and begged her, in despite of the official analysis, to have the goodness to try and like him. To Mrs Blimber, who had joined them, he preferred the same petition: and when that lady could not forbear, even in his presence, from giving utterance to her often-repeated opinion, that he was an odd child, Paul told her that he was sure she was quite right; that he thought it must be his bones, but he didn't know; and that he hoped she would overlook it, for he was fond of them all.
'Not so fond,' said Paul, with a mixture of timidity and perfect frankness, which was one of the most peculiar and most engaging qualities of the child, 'not so fond as I am of Florence, of course; that could never be. You couldn't expect that, could you, Ma'am?'
'Oh! the old-fashioned little soul!' cried Mrs Blimber, in a whisper.
'But I like everybody here very much,' pursued Paul, 'and I should grieve to go away, and think that anyone was glad that I was gone, or didn't care.'
Mrs Blimber was now quite sure that Paul was the oddest child in the world; and when she told the Doctor what had passed, the Doctor did not controvert his wife's opinion. But he said, as he had said before, when Paul first came, that study would do much; and he also said, as he had said on that occasion, 'Bring him on, Cornelia! Bring him on!'
Cornelia had always brought him on as vigorously as she could; and Paul had had a hard life of it. But over and above the getting through his tasks, he had long had another purpose always present to him, and to which he still held fast. It was, to be a gentle, useful, quiet little fellow, always striving to secure the love and attachment of the rest; and though he was yet often to be seen at his old post on the stairs, or watching the waves and clouds from his solitary window, he was oftener found, too, among the other boys, modestly rendering them some little voluntary service. Thus it came to pass, that even among those rigid and absorbed young anchorites, who mortified themselves beneath the roof of Doctor Blimber, Paul was an object of general interest; a fragile little plaything that they all liked, and that no one would have thought of treating roughly. But he could not change his nature, or rewrite the analysis; and so they all agreed that Dombey was old-fashioned.
There were some immunities, however, attaching to the character enjoyed by no one else. They could have better spared a newer-fashioned child, and that alone was much. When the others only bowed to Doctor Blimber and family on retiring for the night, Paul would stretch out his morsel of a hand, and boldly shake the Doctor's; also Mrs Blimber's; also Cornelia's. If anybody was to be begged off from impending punishment, Paul was always the delegate. The weak-eyed young man himself had once consulted him, in reference to a little breakage of glass and china. And it was darKly rumoured that the butler, regarding him with favour such as that stern man had never shown before to mortal boy, had sometimes mingled porter with his table-beer to make him strong.
Over and above these extensive privileges, Paul had free right of entry to Mr Feeder's room, from which apartment he had twice led Mr Toots into the open air in a state of faintness, consequent on an unsuccessful attempt to smoke a very blunt cigar: one of a bundle which that young gentleman had covertly purchased on the shingle from a most desperate smuggler, who had acknowledged, in confidence, that two hundred pounds was the price set upon his head, dead or alive, by the Custom House. It was a snug room, Mr Feeder's, with his bed in another little room inside of it; and a flute, which Mr Feeder couldn't play yet, but was going to make a point of learning, he said, hanging up over the fireplace. There were some books in it, too, and a fishing-rod; for Mr Feeder said he should certainly make a point of learning to fish, when he could find time. Mr Feeder had amassed, with similar intentions, a beautiful little curly secondhand key-bugle, a chess-board and men, a Spanish Grammar, a set of sketching materials, and a pair of boxing-gloves. The art of self-defence Mr Feeder said he should undoubtedly make a point of learning, as he considered it the duty of every man to do; for it might lead to the protection of a female in distress. But Mr Feeder's great possession was a large green jar of snuff, which Mr Toots had brought down as a present, at the close of the last vacation; and for which he had paid a high price, having been the genuine property of the Prince Regent. Neither Mr Toots nor Mr Feeder could partake of this or any other snuff, even in the most stinted and moderate degree, without being seized with convulsions of sneezing. Nevertheless it was their great delight to moisten a box-full with cold tea, stir it up on a piece of parchment with a paper-knife, and devote themselves to its consumption then and there. In the course of which cramming of their noses, they endured surprising torments with the constancy of martyrs: and, drinking table-beer at intervals, felt all the glories of dissipation.
To little Paul sitting silent in their company, and by the side of his chief patron, Mr Toots, there was a dread charm in these reckless occasions: and when Mr Feeder spoke of the dark mysteries of London, and told Mr Toots that he was going to observe it himself closely in all its ramifications in the approaching holidays, and for that purpose had made arrangements to board with two old maiden ladies at Peckham, Paul regarded him as if he were the hero of some book of travels or wild adventure, and was almost afraid of such a slashing person.
Going into this room one evening, when the holidays were very near, Paul found Mr Feeder filling up the blanks in some printed letters, while some others, already filled up and strewn before him, were being folded and sealed by Mr Toots. Mr Feeder said, 'Aha, Dombey, there you are, are you?' - for they were always kind to him, and glad to see him - and then said, tossing one of the letters towards him, 'And there you are, too, Dombey. That's yours.'
'Mine, Sir?' said Paul.
'Your invitation,' returned Mr Feeder.
Paul, looking at it, found, in copper-plate print, with the exception of his own name and the date, which were in Mr Feeder's penmanship, that Doctor and Mrs Blimber requested the pleasure of Mr P. Dombey's company at an early party on Wednesday Evening the Seventeenth Instant; and that the hour was half-past seven o'clock; and that the object was Quadrilles. Mr Toots also showed him, by holding up a companion sheet of paper, that Doctor and Mrs Blimber requested the pleasure of Mr Toots's company at an early party on Wednesday Evening the Seventeenth Instant, when the hour was half-past seven o'clock, and when the object was Quadrilles. He also found, on glancing at the table where Mr Feeder sat, that the pleasure of Mr Briggs's company, and of Mr Tozer's company, and of every young gentleman's company, was requested by Doctor and Mrs Blimber on the same genteel Occasion.
Mr Feeder then told him, to his great joy, that his sister was invited, and that it was a half-yearly event, and that, as the holidays began that day, he could go away with his sister after the party, if he liked, which Paul interrupted him to say he would like, very much. Mr Feeder then gave him to understand that he would be expected to inform Doctor and Mrs Blimber, in superfine small-hand, that Mr P. Dombey would be happy to have the honour of waiting on them, in accordance with their polite invitation. Lastly, Mr Feeder said, he had better not refer to the festive occasion, in the hearing of Doctor and Mrs Blimber; as these preliminaries, and the whole of the arrangements, were conducted on principles of classicality and high breeding; and that Doctor and Mrs Blimber on the one hand, and the young gentlemen on the other, were supposed, in their scholastic capacities, not to have the least idea of what was in the wind.
Paul thanked Mr Feeder for these hints, and pocketing his invitation, sat down on a stool by the side of Mr Toots, as usual. But Paul's head, which had long been ailing more or less, and was sometimes very heavy and painful, felt so uneasy that night, that he was obliged to support it on his hand. And yet it dropped so, that by little and little it sunk on Mr Toots's knee, and rested there, as if it had no care to be ever lifted up again.
That was no reason why he should be deaf; but he must have been, he thought, for, by and by, he heard Mr Feeder calling in his ear, and gently shaking him to rouse his attention. And when he raised his head, quite scared, and looked about him, he found that Doctor Blimber had come into the room; and that the window was open, and that his forehead was wet with sprinkled water; though how all this had been done without his knowledge, was very curious indeed.
'Ah! Come, come! That's well! How is my little friend now?' said Doctor Blimber, encouragingly.
'Oh, quite well, thank you, Sir,' said Paul.
But there seemed to be something the matter with the floor, for he couldn't stand upon it steadily; and with the walls too, for they were inclined to turn round and round, and could only be stopped by being looked at very hard indeed. Mr Toots's head had the appearance of being at once bigger and farther off than was quite natural; and when he took Paul in his arms, to carry him upstairs, Paul observed with astonishment that the door was in quite a different place from that in which he had expected to find it, and almost thought, at first, that Mr Toots was going to walk straight up the chimney.
It was very kind of Mr Toots to carry him to the top of the house so tenderly; and Paul told him that it was. But Mr Toots said he would do a great deal more than that, if he could; and indeed he did more as it was: for he helped Paul to undress, and helped him to bed, in the kindest manner possible, and then sat down by the bedside and chuckled very much; while Mr Feeder, B.A., leaning over the bottom of the bedstead, set all the little bristles on his head bolt upright with his bony hands, and then made believe to spar at Paul with great science, on account of his being all right again, which was so uncommonly facetious, and kind too in Mr Feeder, that Paul, not being able to make up his mind whether it was best to laugh or cry at him, did both at once.
How Mr Toots melted away, and Mr Feeder changed into Mrs Pipchin, Paul never thought of asking; neither was he at all curious to know; but when he saw Mrs Pipchin standing at the bottom of the bed, instead of Mr Feeder, he cried out, 'Mrs Pipchin, don't tell Florence!'
'Don't tell Florence what, my little Paul?' said Mrs Pipchin, coming round to the bedside, and sitting down in the chair.
'About me,' said Paul.
'No, no,' said Mrs Pipchin.
'What do you think I mean to do when I grow up, Mrs Pipchin?' inquired Paul, turning his face towards her on his pillow, and resting his chin wistfully on his folded hands.
Mrs Pipchin couldn't guess.
'I mean,' said Paul, 'to put my money all together in one Bank, never try to get any more, go away into the country with my darling Florence, have a beautiful garden, fields, and woods, and live there with her all my life!'
'Indeed!' cried Mrs Pipchin.
'Yes,' said Paul. 'That's what I mean to do, when I - ' He stopped, and pondered for a moment.
Mrs Pipchin's grey eye scanned his thoughtful face.
'If I grow up,' said Paul. Then he went on immediately to tell Mrs Pipchin all about the party, about Florence's invitation, about the pride he would have in the admiration that would be felt for her by all the boys, about their being so kind to him and fond of him, about his being so fond of them, and about his being so glad of it. Then he told Mrs Pipchin about the analysis, and about his being certainly old-fashioned, and took Mrs Pipchin's opinion on that point, and whether she knew why it was, and what it meant. Mrs Pipchin denied the fact altogether, as the shortest way of getting out of the difficulty; but Paul was far from satisfied with that reply, and looked so searchingly at Mrs Pipchin for a truer answer, that she was obliged to get up and look out of the window to avoid his eyes.
There was a certain calm Apothecary, 'who attended at the establishment when any of the young gentlemen were ill, and somehow he got into the room and appeared at the bedside, with Mrs Blimber. How they came there, or how long they had been there, Paul didn't know; but when he saw them, he sat up in bed, and answered all the Apothecary's questions at full length, and whispered to him that Florence was not to know anything about it, if he pleased, and that he had set his mind upon her coming to the party. He was very chatty with the Apothecary, and they parted excellent friends. Lying down again with his eyes shut, he heard the Apothecary say, out of the room and quite a long way off - or he dreamed it - that there was a want of vital power (what was that, Paul wondered!) and great constitutional weakness. That as the little fellow had set his heart on parting with his school-mates on the seventeenth, it would be better to indulge the fancy if he grew no worse. That he was glad to hear from Mrs Pipchin, that the little fellow would go to his friends in London on the eighteenth. That he would write to Mr Dombey, when he should have gained a better knowledge of the case, and before that day. That there was no immediate cause for - what? Paul lost that word And that the little fellow had a fine mind, but was an old-fashioned boy.
What old fashion could that be, Paul wondered with a palpitating heart, that was so visibly expressed in him; so plainly seen by so many people!
He could neither make it out, nor trouble himself long with the effort. Mrs Pipchin was again beside him, if she had ever been away (he thought she had gone out with the Doctor, but it was all a dream perhaps), and presently a bottle and glass got into her hands magically, and she poured out the contents for him. After that, he had some real good jelly, which Mrs Blimber brought to him herself; and then he was so well, that Mrs Pipchin went home, at his urgent solicitation, and Briggs and Tozer came to bed. Poor Briggs grumbled terribly about his own analysis, which could hardly have discomposed him more if it had been a chemical process; but he was very good to Paul, and so was Tozer, and so were all the rest, for they every one looked in before going to bed, and said, 'How are you now, Dombey?' 'Cheer up, little Dombey!' and so forth. After Briggs had got into bed, he lay awake for a long time, still bemoaning his analysis, and saying he knew it was all wrong, and they couldn't have analysed a murderer worse, and - how would Doctor Blimber like it if his pocket-money depended on it? It was very easy, Briggs said, to make a galley-slave of a boy all the half-year, and then score him up idle; and to crib two dinners a-week out of his board, and then score him up greedy; but that wasn't going to be submitted to, he believed, was it? Oh! Ah!
Before the weak-eyed young man performed on the gong next morning, he came upstairs to Paul and told him he was to lie still, which Paul very gladly did. Mrs Pipchin reappeared a little before the Apothecary, and a little after the good young woman whom Paul had seen cleaning the stove on that first morning (how long ago it seemed now!) had brought him his breakfast. There was another consultation a long way off, or else Paul dreamed it again; and then the Apothecary, coming back with Doctor and Mrs Blimber, said:
'Yes, I think, Doctor Blimber, we may release this young gentleman from his books just now; the vacation being so very near at hand.'
'By all means,' said Doctor Blimber. 'My love, you will inform Cornelia, if you please.'
'Assuredly,' said Mrs Blimber.
The Apothecary bending down, looked closely into Paul's eyes, and felt his head, and his pulse, and his heart, with so much interest and care, that Paul said, 'Thank you, Sir.'
'Our little friend,' observed Doctor Blimber, 'has never complained.'
'Oh no!' replied the Apothecary. 'He was not likely to complain.'
'You find him greatly better?' said Doctor Blimber.
'Oh! he is greatly better, Sir,' returned the Apothecary.
Paul had begun to speculate, in his own odd way, on the subject that might occupy the Apothecary's mind just at that moment; so musingly had he answered the two questions of Doctor Blimber. But the Apothecary happening to meet his little patient's eyes, as the latter set off on that mental expedition, and coming instantly out of his abstraction with a cheerful smile, Paul smiled in return and abandoned it.
He lay in bed all that day, dozing and dreaming, and looking at Mr Toots; but got up on the next, and went downstairs. Lo and behold, there was something the matter with the great clock; and a workman on a pair of steps had taken its face off, and was poking instruments into the works by the light of a candle! This was a great event for Paul, who sat down on the bottom stair, and watched the operation attentively: now and then glancing at the clock face, leaning all askew, against the wall hard by, and feeling a little confused by a suspicion that it was ogling him.
The workman on the steps was very civil; and as he said, when he observed Paul, 'How do you do, Sir?' Paul got into conversation with him, and told him he hadn't been quite well lately. The ice being thus broken, Paul asked him a multitude of questions about chimes and clocks: as, whether people watched up in the lonely church steeples by night to make them strike, and how the bells were rung when people died, and whether those were different bells from wedding bells, or only sounded dismal in the fancies of the living. Finding that his new acquaintance was not very well informed on the subject of the Curfew Bell of ancient days, Paul gave him an account of that institution; and also asked him, as a practical man, what he thought about King Alfred's idea of measuring time by the burning of candles; to which the workman replied, that he thought it would be the ruin of the clock trade if it was to come up again. In fine, Paul looked on, until the clock had quite recovered its familiar aspect, and resumed its sedate inquiry; when the workman, putting away his tools in a long basket, bade him good day, and went away. Though not before he had whispered something, on the door-mat, to the footman, in which there was the phrase 'old-fashioned' - for Paul heard it. What could that old fashion be, that seemed to make the people sorry! What could it be!
Having nothing to learn now, he thought of this frequently; though not so often as he might have done, if he had had fewer things to think of. But he had a great many; and was always thinking, all day long.
First, there was Florence coming to the party. Florence would see that the boys were fond of him; and that would make her happy. This was his great theme. Let Florence once be sure that they were gentle and good to him, and that he had become a little favourite among them, and then the would always think of the time he had passed there, without being very sorry. Florence might be all the happier too for that, perhaps, when he came back.
When he came back! Fifty times a day, his noiseless little feet went up the stairs to his own room, as he collected every book, and scrap, and trifle that belonged to him, and put them all together there, down to the minutest thing, for taking home! There was no shade of coming back on little Paul; no preparation for it, or other reference to it, grew out of anything he thought or did, except this slight one in connexion with his sister. On the contrary, he had to think of everything familiar to him, in his contemplative moods and in his wanderings about the house, as being to be parted with; and hence the many things he had to think of, all day long.
He had to peep into those rooms upstairs, and think how solitary they would be when he was gone, and wonder through how many silent days, weeks, months, and years, they would continue just as grave and undisturbed. He had to think - would any other child (old-fashioned, like himself stray there at any time, to whom the same grotesque distortions of pattern and furniture would manifest themselves; and would anybody tell that boy of little Dombey, who had been there once? He had to think of a portrait on the stairs, which always looked earnestly after him as he went away, eyeing it over his shoulder; and which, when he passed it in the company of anyone, still seemed to gaze at him, and not at his companion. He had much to think of, in association with a print that hung up in another place, where, in the centre of a wondering group, one figure that he knew, a figure with a light about its head - benignant, mild, and merciful - stood pointing upward.
At his own bedroom window, there were crowds of thoughts that mixed with these, and came on, one upon another, like the rolling waves. Where those wild birds lived, that were always hovering out at sea in troubled weather; where the clouds rose and first began; whence the wind issued on its rushing flight, and where it stopped; whether the spot where he and Florence had so often sat, and watched, and talked about these things, could ever be exactly as it used to be without them; whether it could ever be the same to Florence, if he were in some distant place, and she were sitting there alone.
He had to think, too, of Mr Toots, and Mr Feeder, B.A., of all the boys; and of Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber; of home, and of his aunt and Miss Tox; of his father; Dombey and Son, Walter with the poor old Uncle who had got the money he wanted, and that gruff-voiced Captain with the iron hand. Besides all this, he had a number of little visits to pay, in the course of the day; to the schoolroom, to Doctor Blimber's study, to Mrs Blimber's private apartment, to Miss Blimber's, and to the dog. For he was free of the whole house now, to range it as he chose; and, in his desire to part with everybody on affectionate terms, he attended, in his way, to them all. Sometimes he found places in books for Briggs, who was always losing them; sometimes he looked up words in dictionaries for other young gentlemen who were in extremity; sometimes he held skeins of silk for Mrs Blimber to wind; sometimes he put Cornelia's desk to rights; sometimes he would even creep into the Doctor's study, and, sitting on the carpet near his learned feet, turn the globes softly, and go round the world, or take a flight among the far-off stars.
In those days immediately before the holidays, in short, when the other young gentlemen were labouring for dear life through a general resumption of the studies of the whole half-year, Paul was such a privileged pupil as had never been seen in that house before. He could hardly believe it himself; but his liberty lasted from hour to hour, and from day to day; and little Dombey was caressed by everyone. Doctor Blimber was so particular about him, that he requested Johnson to retire from the dinner-table one day, for having thoughtlessly spoken to him as 'poor little Dombey;' which Paul thought rather hard and severe, though he had flushed at the moment, and wondered why Johnson should pity him. It was the more questionable justice, Paul thought, in the Doctor, from his having certainly overheard that great authority give his assent on the previous evening, to the proposition (stated by Mrs Blimber) that poor dear little Dombey was more old-fashioned than ever. And now it was that Paul began to think it must surely be old-fashioned to be very thin, and light, and easily tired, and soon disposed to lie down anywhere and rest; for he couldn't help feeling that these were more and more his habits every day.
At last the party-day arrived; and Doctor Blimber said at breakfast, 'Gentlemen, we will resume our studies on the twenty-fifth of next month.' Mr Toots immediately threw off his allegiance, and put on his ring: and mentioning the Doctor in casual conversation shortly afterwards, spoke of him as 'Blimber'! This act of freedom inspired the older pupils with admiration and envy; but the younger spirits were appalled, and seemed to marvel that no beam fell down and crushed him.
Not the least allusion was made to the ceremonies of the evening, either at breakfast or at dinner; but there was a bustle in the house all day, and in the course of his perambulations, Paul made acquaintance with various strange benches and candlesticks, and met a harp in a green greatcoat standing on the landing outside the drawing-room door. There was something queer, too, about Mrs Blimber's head at dinner-time, as if she had screwed her hair up too tight; and though Miss Blimber showed a graceful bunch of plaited hair on each temple, she seemed to have her own little curls in paper underneath, and in a play-bill too; for Paul read 'Theatre Royal' over one of her sparkling spectacles, and 'Brighton' over the other.
There was a grand array of white waistcoats and cravats in the young gentlemen's bedrooms as evening approached; and such a smell of singed hair, that Doctor Blimber sent up the footman with his compliments, and wished to know if the house was on fire. But it was only the hairdresser curling the young gentlemen, and over-heating his tongs in the ardour of business.
When Paul was dressed - which was very soon done, for he felt unwell and drowsy, and was not able to stand about it very long - he went down into the drawing-room; where he found Doctor Blimber pacing up and down the room full dressed, but with a dignified and unconcerned demeanour, as if he thought it barely possible that one or two people might drop in by and by. Shortly afterwards, Mrs Blimber appeared, looking lovely, Paul thought; and attired in such a number of skirts that it was quite an excursion to walk round her. Miss Blimber came down soon after her Mama; a little squeezed in appearance, but very charming.
Mr Toots and Mr Feeder were the next arrivals. Each of these gentlemen brought his hat in his hand, as if he lived somewhere else; and when they were announced by the butler, Doctor Blimber said, 'Ay, ay, ay! God bless my soul!' and seemed extremely glad to see them. Mr Toots was one blaze of jewellery and buttons; and he felt the circumstance so strongly, that when he had shaken hands with the Doctor, and had bowed to Mrs Blimber and Miss Blimber, he took Paul aside, and said, 'What do you think of this, Dombey?'
But notwithstanding this modest confidence in himself, Mr Toots appeared to be involved in a good deal of uncertainty whether, on the whole, it was judicious to button the bottom button of his waistcoat, and whether, on a calm revision of all the circumstances, it was best to wear his waistbands turned up or turned down. Observing that Mr Feeder's were turned up, Mr Toots turned his up; but the waistbands of the next arrival being turned down, Mr Toots turned his down. The differences in point of waistcoat-buttoning, not only at the bottom, but at the top too, became so numerous and complicated as the arrivals thickened, that Mr Toots was continually fingering that article of dress, as if he were performing on some instrument; and appeared to find the incessant execution it demanded, quite bewildering. All the young gentlemen, tightly cravatted, curled, and pumped, and with their best hats in their hands, having been at different times announced and introduced, Mr Baps, the dancing-master, came, accompanied by Mrs Baps, to whom Mrs Blimber was extremely kind and condescending. Mr Baps was a very grave gentleman, with a slow and measured manner of speaking; and before he had stood under the lamp five minutes, he began to talk to Toots (who had been silently comparing pumps with him) about what you were to do with your raw materials when they came into your ports in return for your drain of gold. Mr Toots, to whom the question seemed perplexing, suggested 'Cook 'em.' But Mr Baps did not appear to think that would do.
Paul now slipped away from the cushioned corner of a sofa, which had been his post of observation, and went downstairs into the tea-room to be ready for Florence, whom he had not seen for nearly a fortnight, as he had remained at Doctor Blimber's on the previous Saturday and Sunday, lest he should take cold. Presently she came: looking so beautiful in her simple ball dress, with her fresh flowers in her hand, that when she knelt down on the ground to take Paul round the neck and kiss him (for there was no one there, but his friend and another young woman waiting to serve out the tea), he could hardly make up his mind to let her go again, or to take away her bright and loving eyes from his face.
'But what is the matter, Floy?' asked Paul, almost sure that he saw a tear there.
'Nothing, darling; nothing,' returned Florence.
Paul touched her cheek gently with his finger - and it was a tear! 'Why, Floy!' said he.
'We'll go home together, and I'll nurse you, love,' said Florence.
'Nurse me!' echoed Paul.
Paul couldn't understand what that had to do with it, nor why the two young women looked on so seriously, nor why Florence turned away her face for a moment, and then turned it back, lighted up again with smiles.
'Floy,' said Paul, holding a ringlet of her dark hair in his hand. 'Tell me, dear, Do you think I have grown old-fashioned?'
His sister laughed, and fondled him, and told him 'No.'
'Because I know they say so,' returned Paul, 'and I want to know what they mean, Floy.' But a loud double knock coming at the door, and Florence hurrying to the table, there was no more said between them. Paul wondered again when he saw his friend whisper to Florence, as if she were comforting her; but a new arrival put that out of his head speedily.
It was Sir Barnet Skettles, Lady Skettles, and Master Skettles. Master Skettles was to be a new boy after the vacation, and Fame had been busy, in Mr Feeder's room, with his father, who was in the House of Commons, and of whom Mr Feeder had said that when he did catch the Speaker's eye (which he had been expected to do for three or four years), it was anticipated that he would rather touch up the Radicals.
'And what room is this now, for instance?' said Lady Skettles to Paul's friend, 'Melia.
'Doctor Blimber's study, Ma'am,' was the reply.
Lady Skettles took a panoramic survey of it through her glass, and said to Sir Barnet Skettles, with a nod of approval, 'Very good.' Sir Barnet assented, but Master Skettles looked suspicious and doubtful.
'And this little creature, now,' said Lady Skettles, turning to Paul. 'Is he one of the
'Young gentlemen, Ma'am; yes, Ma'am,' said Paul's friend.
'And what is your name, my pale child?' said Lady Skettles.
'Dombey,' answered Paul.
Sir Barnet Skettles immediately interposed, and said that he had had the honour of meeting Paul's father at a public dinner, and that he hoped he was very well. Then Paul heard him say to Lady Skettles, 'City - very rich - most respectable - Doctor mentioned it.' And then he said to Paul, 'Will you tell your good Papa that Sir Barnet Skettles rejoiced to hear that he was very well, and sent him his best compliments?'
'Yes, Sir,' answered Paul.
'That is my brave boy,' said Sir Barnet Skettles. 'Barnet,' to Master Skettles, who was revenging himself for the studies to come, on the plum-cake, 'this is a young gentleman you ought to know. This is a young gentleman you may know, Barnet,' said Sir Barnet Skettles, with an emphasis on the permission.
'What eyes! What hair! What a lovely face!' exclaimed Lady Skettles softly, as she looked at Florence through her glass. 'My sister,' said Paul, presenting her.
The satisfaction of the Skettleses was now complex And as Lady Skettles had conceived, at first sight, a liking for Paul, they all went upstairs together: Sir Barnet Skettles taking care of Florence, and young Barnet following.
Young Barnet did not remain long in the background after they had reached the drawing-room, for Dr Blimber had him out in no time, dancing with Florence. He did not appear to Paul to be particularly happy, or particularly anything but sulky, or to care much what he was about; but as Paul heard Lady Skettles say to Mrs Blimber, while she beat time with her fan, that her dear boy was evidently smitten to death by that angel of a child, Miss Dombey, it would seem that Skettles Junior was in a state of bliss, without showing it.
Little Paul thought it a singular coincidence that nobody had occupied his place among the pillows; and that when he came into the room again, they should all make way for him to go back to it, remembering it was his. Nobody stood before him either, when they observed that he liked to see Florence dancing, but they left the space in front quite clear, so that he might follow her with his eyes. They were so kind, too, even the strangers, of whom there were soon a great many, that they came and spoke to him every now and then, and asked him how he was, and if his head ached, and whether he was tired. He was very much obliged to them for all their kindness and attention, and reclining propped up in his corner, with Mrs Blimber and Lady Skettles on the same sofa, and Florence coming and sitting by his side as soon as every dance was ended, he looked on very happily indeed.
Florence would have sat by him all night, and would not have danced at all of her own accord, but Paul made her, by telling her how much it pleased him. And he told her the truth, too; for his small heart swelled, and his face glowed, when he saw how much they all admired her, and how she was the beautiful little rosebud of the room.
From his nest among the pillows, Paul could see and hear almost everything that passed as if the whole were being done for his amusement. Among other little incidents that he observed, he observed Mr Baps the dancing-master get into conversation with Sir Barnet Skettles, and very soon ask him, as he had asked Mr Toots, what you were to do with your raw materials, when they came into your ports in return for your drain of gold - which was such a mystery to Paul that he was quite desirous to know what ought to be done with them. Sir Barnet Skettles had much to say upon the question, and said it; but it did not appear to solve the question, for Mr Baps retorted, Yes, but supposing Russia stepped in with her tallows; which struck Sir Barnet almost dumb, for he could only shake his head after that, and say, Why then you must fall back upon your cottons, he supposed.
Sir Barnet Skettles looked after Mr Baps when he went to cheer up Mrs Baps (who, being quite deserted, was pretending to look over the music-book of the gentleman who played the harp), as if he thought him a remarkable kind of man; and shortly afterwards he said so in those words to Doctor Blimber, and inquired if he might take the liberty of asking who he was, and whether he had ever been in the Board of Trade. Doctor Blimber answered no, he believed not; and that in fact he was a Professor of - '
'Of something connected with statistics, I'll swear?' observed Sir Barnet Skettles.
'Why no, Sir Barnet,' replied Doctor Blimber, rubbing his chin. 'No, not exactly.'
'Figures of some sort, I would venture a bet,' said Sir Barnet Skettles.
'Why yes,' said Doctor Blimber, yes, but not of that sort. Mr Baps is a very worthy sort of man, Sir Barnet, and - in fact he's our Professor of dancing.'
Paul was amazed to see that this piece of information quite altered Sir Barnet Skettles's opinion of Mr Baps, and that Sir Barnet flew into a perfect rage, and glowered at Mr Baps over on the other side of the room. He even went so far as to D Mr Baps to Lady Skettles, in telling her what had happened, and to say that it was like his most con-sum-mate and con-foun-ded impudence.
There was another thing that Paul observed. Mr Feeder, after imbibing several custard-cups of negus, began to enjoy himself. The dancing in general was ceremonious, and the music rather solemn - a little like church music in fact - but after the custard-cups, Mr Feeder told Mr Toots that he was going to throw a little spirit into the thing. After that, Mr Feeder not only began to dance as if he meant dancing and nothing else, but secretly to stimulate the music to perform wild tunes. Further, he became particular in his attentions to the ladies; and dancing with Miss Blimber, whispered to her - whispered to her! - though not so softly but that Paul heard him say this remarkable poetry,
'Had I a heart for falsehood framed,
I ne'er could injure You!' This, Paul heard him repeat to four young ladies, in succession. Well might Mr Feeder say to Mr Toots, that he was afraid he should be the worse for it to-morrow!
Mrs Blimber was a little alarmed by this - comparatively speaking - profligate behaviour; and especially by the alteration in the character of the music, which, beginning to comprehend low melodies that were popular in the streets, might not unnaturally be supposed to give offence to Lady Skettles. But Lady Skettles was so very kind as to beg Mrs Blimber not to mention it; and to receive her explanation that Mr Feeder's spirits sometimes betrayed him into excesses on these occasions, with the greatest courtesy and politeness; observing, that he seemed a very nice sort of person for his situation, and that she particularly liked the unassuming style of his hair - which (as already hinted) was about a quarter of an inch long.
Once, when there was a pause in the dancing, Lady Skettles told Paul that he seemed very fond of music. Paul replied, that he was; and if she was too, she ought to hear his sister, Florence, sing. Lady Skettles presently discovered that she was dying with anxiety to have that gratification; and though Florence was at first very much frightened at being asked to sing before so many people, and begged earnestly to be excused, yet, on Paul calling her to him, and saying, 'Do, Floy! Please! For me, my dear!' she went straight to the piano, and began. When they all drew a little away, that Paul might see her; and when he saw her sitting there all alone, so young, and good, and beautiful, and kind to him; and heard her thrilling voice, so natural and sweet, and such a golden link between him and all his life's love and happiness, rising out of the silence; he turned his face away, and hid his tears. Not, as he told them when they spoke to him, not that the music was too plaintive or too sorrowful, but it was so dear to him.
They all loved Florence. How could they help it! Paul had known beforehand that they must and would; and sitting in his cushioned corner, with calmly folded hands; and one leg loosely doubled under him, few would have thought what triumph and delight expanded his childish bosom while he watched her, or what a sweet tranquillity he felt. Lavish encomiums on 'Dombey's sister' reached his ears from all the boys: admiration of the self-possessed and modest little beauty was on every lip: reports of her intelligence and accomplishments floated past him, constantly; and, as if borne in upon the air of the summer night, there was a half intelligible sentiment diffused around, referring to Florence and himself, and breathing sympathy for both, that soothed and touched him.
He did not know why. For all that the child observed, and felt, and thought, that night - the present and the absent; what was then and what had been - were blended like the colours in the rainbow, or in the plumage of rich birds when the sun is shining on them, or in the softening sky when the same sun is setting. The many things he had had to think of lately, passed before him in the music; not as claiming his attention over again, or as likely evermore to occupy it, but as peacefully disposed of and gone. A solitary window, gazed through years ago, looked out upon an ocean, miles and miles away; upon its waters, fancies, busy with him only yesterday, were hushed and lulled to rest like broken waves. The same mysterious murmur he had wondered at, when lying on his couch upon the beach, he thought he still heard sounding through his sister's song, and through the hum of voices, and the tread of feet, and having some part in the faces flitting by, and even in the heavy gentleness of Mr Toots, who frequently came up to shake him by the hand. Through the universal kindness he still thought he heard it, speaking to him; and even his old-fashioned reputation seemed to be allied to it, he knew not how. Thus little Paul sat musing, listening, looking on, and dreaming; and was very happy.
Until the time arrived for taking leave: and then, indeed, there was a sensation in the party. Sir Barnet Skettles brought up Skettles Junior to shake hands with him, and asked him if he would remember to tell his good Papa, with his best compliments, that he, Sir Barnet Skettles, had said he hoped the two young gentlemen would become intimately acquainted. Lady Skettles kissed him, and patted his hair upon his brow, and held him in her arms; and even Mrs Baps - poor Mrs Baps! Paul was glad of that - came over from beside the music-book of the gentleman who played the harp, and took leave of him quite as heartily as anybody in the room.
'Good-bye, Doctor Blimber,' said Paul, stretching out his hand.
'Good-bye, my little friend,' returned the Doctor.
'I'm very much obliged to you, Sir,' said Paul, looking innocently up into his awful face. 'Ask them to take care of Diogenes, if you please.'
Diogenes was the dog: who had never in his life received a friend into his confidence, before Paul. The Doctor promised that every attention should he paid to Diogenes in Paul's absence, and Paul having again thanked him, and shaken hands with him, bade adieu to Mrs Blimber and Cornelia with such heartfelt earnestness that Mrs Blimber forgot from that moment to mention Cicero to Lady Skettles, though she had fully intended it all the evening. Cornelia, taking both Paul's hands in hers, said,'Dombey, Dombey, you have always been my favourite pupil. God bless you!' And it showed, Paul thought, how easily one might do injustice to a person; for Miss Blimber meant it - though she was a Forcer - and felt it.
A boy then went round among the young gentlemen, of 'Dombey's going!' 'Little Dombey's going!' and there was a general move after Paul and Florence down the staircase and into the hall, in which the whole Blimber family were included. Such a circumstance, Mr Feeder said aloud, as had never happened in the case of any former young gentleman within his experience; but it would be difficult to say if this were sober fact or custard-cups. The servants, with the butler at their head, had all an interest in seeing Little Dombey go; and even the weak-eyed young man, taking out his books and trunks to the coach that was to carry him and Florence to Mrs Pipchin's for the night, melted visibly.
Not even the influence of the softer passion on the young gentlemen - and they all, to a boy, doted on Florence - could restrain them from taking quite a noisy leave of Paul; waving hats after him, pressing downstairs to shake hands with him, crying individually 'Dombey, don't forget me!' and indulging in many such ebullitions of feeling, uncommon among those young Chesterfields. Paul whispered Florence, as she wrapped him up before the door was opened, Did she hear them? Would she ever forget it? Was she glad to know it? And a lively delight was in his eyes as he spoke to her.
Once, for a last look, he turned and gazed upon the faces thus addressed to him, surprised to see how shining and how bright, and numerous they were, and how they were all piled and heaped up, as faces are at crowded theatres. They swam before him as he looked, like faces in an agitated glass; and next moment he was in the dark coach outside, holding close to Florence. From that time, whenever he thought of Doctor Blimber's, it came back as he had seen it in this last view; and it never seemed to be a real place again, but always a dream, full of eyes.
This was not quite the last of Doctor Blimber's, however. There was something else. There was Mr Toots. Who, unexpectedly letting down one of the coach-windows, and looking in, said, with a most egregious chuckle, 'Is Dombey there?' and immediately put it up again, without waiting for an answer. Nor was this quite the last of Mr Toots, even; for before the coachman could drive off, he as suddenly let down the other window, and looking in with a precisely similar chuckle, said in a precisely similar tone of voice, 'Is Dombey there?' and disappeared precisely as before.
How Florence laughed! Paul often remembered it, and laughed himself whenever he did so.
But there was much, soon afterwards - next day, and after that - which Paul could only recollect confusedly. As, why they stayed at Mrs Pipchin's days and nights, instead of going home; why he lay in bed, with Florence sitting by his side; whether that had been his father in the room, or only a tall shadow on the wall; whether he had heard his doctor say, of someone, that if they had removed him before the occasion on which he had built up fancies, strong in proportion to his own weakness, it was very possible he might have pined away.
He could not even remember whether he had often said to Florence, 'Oh Floy, take me home, and never leave me!' but he thought he had. He fancied sometimes he had heard himself repeating, 'Take me home, Floy! take me home!'
But he could remember, when he got home, and was carried up the well-remembered stairs, that there had been the rumbling of a coach for many hours together, while he lay upon the seat, with Florence still beside him, and old Mrs Pipchin sitting opposite. He remembered his old bed too, when they laid him down in it: his aunt, Miss Tox, and Susan: but there was something else, and recent too, that still perplexed him.
'I want to speak to Florence, if you please,' he said. 'To Florence by herself, for a moment!'
She bent down over him, and the others stood away.
'Floy, my pet, wasn't that Papa in the hall, when they brought me from the coach?'
'Yes, dear.'
'He didn't cry, and go into his room, Floy, did he, when he saw me coming in?'
Florence shook her head, and pressed her lips against his cheek.
'I'm very glad he didn't cry,' said little Paul. 'I thought he did. Don't tell them that I asked.'
  当暑假临近的时候,聚集在布林伯博士学校中的眼睛没有光泽的年轻的先生们没有有失体统地作出任何表示,来表露他们的高兴。任何像“散伙了”这样一些激烈的措辞,对于这个崇尚礼仪的学校来说,都是很不合适的。年轻的先生们每半年启程回家一次;但他们从来不散伙。他们会蔑视这种行动。
  托泽按照他母亲托泽夫人的明确的意愿,佩戴了一条浆过的白色麻纱围巾,并经常被它擦伤、弄痛。他母亲立意要他接受一个教会的职位,并认为他预先做好准备愈早愈好。托泽确实曾经说过,如果两害相权取其轻的话,他想他宁可留在现在的地方,而不回家去。他的这个声明与他论述这个问题的一篇论文中的一段看来可能是矛盾的;他在那段文章中说,“对家的思念与所有的回忆在他心中唤醒了期待与喜悦的最愉快的情感”;他还把自己比作一位罗马将军,由于新近战胜爱西尼①而得意扬扬,或者满载着从迦太基掠夺来的战利品向前行进,还有几个小时的路程就可以到达朱庇特神殿②;可以推测,他在这里为了比喻,是把朱庇特神殿比作托泽夫人的寓所;但是尽管这样,他的那个声明是十分真诚作出的。因为托泽似乎有一位严厉可怕的伯父,他不仅自告奋勇,在假期中考问他一些深奥难解的问题,而且还抓住一些无害的事件与事情,耍弄花招,以达到同样残酷的目的。因此,如果这位伯父要领他到戏院看戏,或者在出于善意的类似借口下,领他去看一个大汉,或一个矮子,或一个邪术家,或不论是什么,托泽知道他必须事先读一读经典著作中在这个问题上提到过的一些话,因此他就处在一种极为忧虑不安的状态中,不知道伯父在什么时候会大发脾气,也不知道他会引用什么权威的话来反对他。
  --------
  ①爱西尼(Iceni):古不列颠部落,国王普拉苏塔古斯(Prasutagus)是罗马人的傀儡,罗马人企图在他死后吞并爱西尼,因此王后布狄卡(Boudica)率军反抗,罗马人打败了他们,并大杀爱西尼人。结果只剩下一个小部落。
  ②朱庇特神殿(Capitol):朱庇特(Jupiter),也译朱比特,是罗马传说中的主神。
  至于布里格斯,他的父亲决不要弄手腕。他不让他有片刻安宁。在假期中对这位年轻人进行的智力测验是那么繁多与严格,因此这个家庭的朋友们(当时住在伦敦堤水附近),每当走近肯辛顿花园中那个点缀性的水池时,心中很少不模糊地担心会看到布里格斯少爷的帽子漂浮在水面,而他未完成的练习则搁在岸边。因此,布里格斯对于假期完全不是满怀希望的;小保罗卧室中这两位同住者与所有其他年轻的先生们的情况十分相似;他们当中性格最灵活的人也是有教养地抱着听随天意的心情期待着这些假日的来临。
  小保罗的情况却完全不一样。这头一个暑假一结束,他就要跟弗洛伦斯离别,可是暑假还没有开始呢,谁会去想到它的结束呢?保罗肯定不会去想。当快乐的时光愈来愈临近的时候,卧室墙上爬着的狮子和老虎变得十分驯服和爱闹着玩了。铺地板的漆布上的正方形与菱形中那些严厉的、狡猾的脸孔变得温和起来,不是用过去那样恶意的眼睛来窥视他了。那庄严的老时钟在它那遵守礼节的问话中语气变得更为关心人了;永不宁静的大海像先前一样整夜滚滚流动,伴随着它的是那忧郁而又令人愉快的音调,它随着波浪起伏而抑扬变化,仿佛在给他催眠。
  文学士菲德先生似乎认为他也将好好地享受享受假日的乐趣。图茨先生打算从这次暑假开始,他整整一生都将过着假日的生活;因为他每天照例都要告诉保罗,这是他在布林伯博士的学校中的“最后半年”,他将立即开始继承他的财产。
  保罗与图茨先生完全明白,他们虽然在年龄与身份上存在着差别,但是他们是亲密的朋友。随着假期临近,图茨先生在跟保罗待在一起的时候比过去哮喘得更加厉害,眼睛凝视着的次数也更多了;保罗知道,他这样是为了表示他对他们即将分离、不能相互见面而感到悲伤;保罗很感谢他的保护与好感。
  甚至连布林伯博士、布林伯夫人和布林伯小姐以及所有的年轻的先生们也都明白,图茨不知怎么的,已自命为董贝的保护者与监护人了;这个情况甚至连皮普钦太太也都看得清清楚楚,所以这位善良的老太婆对图茨怀着怨恨与妒嫉的心情,在自己家里的圣堂中不断地斥责他是个“无知无识的傻瓜蛋”。然而天真无邪的图茨丝毫没有想到他已引起皮普钦太太的愤怒,就像他丝毫也没有其他确定的想法一样。相反的,他爱把她看作是个具有很多优点、极为出色的女士;由于这个缘故,在她看望保罗的过程中,他总是那么彬彬有礼地向她微笑,那么频繁地问她她好吗,因此终于有一夜她直言不讳地告诉他,不论他会怎么想,她对这不习惯;她不能忍受,也不想忍受这种情况,不论这是出自于他本人或出自于其他狂妄自大的臭小子。图茨先生的礼貌受到这样意想不到的报答,使他大为恐慌,所以他就隐藏到一个僻静的地方,直到她走开为止。从那时起,在布林伯博士的学校里,他再也没有面对着这位刚强的皮普钦太太。
  离假期还有两三个星期的时候,有一天科妮莉亚·布林伯把保罗喊到她房间里,说:“董贝,我将把对您的分析评语寄到您的家里去。”
  “谢谢您,夫人,”保罗回答道。
  “您知道我说的是什么吗,董贝?”布林伯小姐通过眼镜严厉地看着他,问道。
  “不知道,夫人,”保罗说道。
  “董贝,董贝,”布林伯小姐说道,“我开始担心,您是个不可救药的孩子了。当您不知道一个语句的意义的时候,您为什么不要求解释呢?”
  “皮普钦太太告诉我,我不许问问题,”保罗回答道。
  “我得请求您不论在什么情况下也不要对我提到皮普钦太太,”布林伯小姐回答道。“我不能允许这样做。我们这里的学习课程跟任何那一类东西有着天渊之别。如果再重复这样的话,那就会迫使我要求您在明天早上吃早饭以前毫无差错地向我回答问题,从Verbumpersonale一直到Simillimacygno。”①
  --------
  ①(拉丁文)意即“从‘人称动词’到‘更加像天鹅’。Simillimacygno是犹文纳尔著名诗歌中的最后一句:“Raraavisinterris,nigroquesimillmacygno”
  (地上的鸟很少像黑天鹅)。
  “夫人,我的意思并不是说——”保罗开始说道。
  “如果您同意,董贝,我必须麻烦您别跟我说,您的意思并不是说,”布林伯小姐说道;她在训戒中仍保持着令人敬畏的礼貌。“我决不允许采用这种方式来进行辩论。”
  保罗觉得最安全的办法是什么话也别说,所以他只是看着布林伯小姐的眼镜。布林伯小姐向他严肃地摇摇头以后,转向她面前的一张纸。“‘对保·董贝性格的分析’。如果我的记忆没有错,”布林伯小姐停止阅读,说道,“分析这个词与综合的意义相反,沃克把它定义为‘把一个我们感觉或理解的客体分解为它的原始元素’。您看,它与综合的意义是相反的。·现·在您知道分析是什么了,董贝。”
  董贝似乎没有被照到他才智上的亮光完全夺去了目力,但他向布林伯小姐稍稍鞠了个躬。
  “‘对保·董贝性格的分析’。”布林伯小姐把眼光投到纸上,“我发现董贝的天赋才能是非常好的;他爱好学习的性格也可以给予相同的评价。因此,把八作为我们的标准和最高数字,我认为董贝的这些品质每种可以评定为六又四分之三!”
  布林伯小姐停了一下,看看保罗是怎样接受这个消息的。保罗不知道六又四分之三是指六镑十五先令还是六便士三法新①,还是六英尺三英寸,还是六点三刻,还是六个他还没有学习到的什么东西以及三个另外不知道的东西,所以就搓搓手,直望着布林伯小姐。看来他这样的回答不比他所能作出的其他任何回答坏;科妮莉亚就继续说下去。
  --------
  ①法新(farthing):旧时英国铜币,等于1A4便士。
  “‘粗暴二。自私二。喜欢跟粗野的人交往,就像在一位名叫格拉布的人的情况中所表现的,原先是七,但以后减少了。上流人士的举止四,并逐渐进步’。现在,董贝,我特别希望促请您注意的是这一分析末尾的总的评语。”
  保罗做好准备,极为注意地听这个评语。
  “对董贝可以作出总的评语如下,”布林伯小姐说道;她高声朗读,每念完两个词的时候,都要把眼镜转向她前面的小人儿:“‘他的才能与嗜好是好的;他取得了在现有情况下所能期望的进步;但这位年轻的先生值得惋惜的是,他的性格与行为怪僻(通常称为老气);虽然并没有任何显然需要加以责备的表现,但他常常跟其他和他的年龄与社会地位相近的年轻的先生们很不相同。’好了,董贝,”布林伯小姐放下那张纸,说道,“您听懂了吗?”
  “我想听懂了,夫人,”保罗说道。
  “您知道,董贝,”布林伯小姐继续说道,“这个分析评语将寄到您家里,寄到您尊敬的父亲那里。他看到您的性格与行为怪僻,自然将会感到很痛苦。对我们来说,这自然是痛苦的,因为您知道,董贝,我们不能像我们所希望的那样喜欢您。”
  她触到了这个孩子的痛处。随着他离别的时间愈来愈近,他心中暗暗地日益渴望屋子里所有的人都喜欢他。出于某种隐蔽的理由(他本人如果能理解的话,也只是很模糊地理解),他觉得他对这个地方的几乎每一件事物和每一个人都有一种逐渐增强的使他感到兴奋的感情。当他离开的时候,如果他们对他漠不关心,这将是他所不能忍受的。他希望他们都会亲切地记得他。他甚至还去安抚用链条栓在房屋后面的一条声音嘶哑、毛发蓬乱的大狗,把这作为自己的一部分工作,而这条狗过去是曾经使他感到极为恐怖的。他希望当他不再在这里的时候,甚至这条狗也会想念他。
  可怜的小保罗很少想到,他这样做只是再一次显示出他与他同伴之间的差异,因此他尽可能地向布林伯小姐陈述了他的这种想法,而且不论那份正式的分析评语如何,他还是恳求她能行行好,设法去喜欢他。对和他们在一起的布林伯夫人,他也提出了同样的要求;那位夫人甚至当着他的面也不能忍着不说出她时常重复的意见:他是个古怪的孩子;这时候保罗对她说,他相信她是完全正确的,他想这一定是他的骨头有毛病,但他不知道它;他希望她能假装没有看见它,因为他喜爱他们所有的人。
  “当然,”保罗既胆怯而又完全直率(这是这孩子最独特、最可爱的性格之一)地说道:“不是像我喜爱弗洛伦斯那样地喜爱,那是决不可能的。您不能指望那样,是不是,夫人?”
  “啊,您这个老气的小人儿!”布林伯夫人低声喊道。
  “可是我很喜欢这里的每一个人,”保罗继续说道,“如果我想到任何人都高兴我不在这里或者对这毫不关心,那么我离开的时候就会感到悲伤。”
  布林伯夫人这时完全相信,保罗是世界上最古怪的孩子;当她把发生的事情告诉博士时,博士没有反驳他妻子的意见。但是就像保罗第一次到这里来的时候他曾经说过的那样,他说,学习是能解决好多问题的;而且又像那次曾说过的那样,他说,“培养他吧,科妮莉亚,培养他吧!”
  科妮莉亚总是竭尽全力地培养他,保罗则过着艰辛的生活。可是除了完成功课外,他还早就给自己订了另一个目标,它老是出现在他的眼前,而他则始终牢牢不放地追求着它。这个目标就是:成为一个温柔的、有用的、安静的孩子,不断努力去取得周围人们的喜爱与依恋;虽然大家还常常看到他坐在楼梯上的老地方,或者从他寂寞的窗口往外注视海浪与云彩,可是大家也更常常看到他在其他孩子们中间,谦逊地自愿为他们提供一些小小的服务。结果,在布林伯博士的房屋中,即使是在那些苦苦修行、坚定不移、一心不乱的年轻隐士们中间,保罗也是个普遍感兴趣的对象,一个他们全都喜欢的脆弱的小玩具,没有一个人会想到要粗暴地对待他。可是他不能改变他的本性,或改写他的分析评语,所以他们都一致认为,董贝是一个老气的孩子。
  不过,有一些跟这个名声相随的优待是其他任何人都不能享受的。这些优待不能让那些不太老气的孩子普遍享受,有一个就足够了。其他的孩子在夜间离开去睡觉时只是向布林伯博士和他的家人鞠躬,但保罗却会伸出他的小手,毫无顾忌地握握博士的手,又握握布林伯夫人的手,又握握科妮莉亚的手。如果需要请求撤销什么人的即将临头的惩罚的话,那么保罗总是充当代表。那位弱视的年轻人本人有一次由于打破玻璃与瓷器,也曾去跟他商量过。曾经纷纷谣传说,那位男管家待他很好,有时在他餐桌的啤酒中搀进一些黑啤酒,使他长得更强壮;这位严厉的人过去对凡世的孩子从来不曾这样对待过。
  除了这些广泛的特权外,保罗还有权自由走进菲德先生的房间;他有两次曾经把昏厥状态中的图茨先生从这个房间领到新鲜的空气中(那是由于这位年轻人曾经在砂石滩上从一位最不顾死活的走私者——这位走私者曾秘密承认,海关曾经出价两百镑来要他的头,不论死活都可以——那里偷偷摸摸地买了一包卷烟,他不成功地尝试抽吸了一支短粗的烟,结果就昏倒了)。菲德先生的房间是温暖和舒适的;里面有一个小房间,他的床就摆放在那里;壁炉上方挂着一支长笛,菲德先生暂时还不会吹,但他说,他决心学会它;房间里还有一些书和一根钓竿,因为菲德先生说,当他有时间的时候,他必定决心学会钓鱼。由于同样的愿望,菲德先生还收藏了一支美丽的、弓形的、旧的小三键喇叭,一副棋盘和棋子,一本西班牙语语法,一套素描用的材料,一双拳击手套。菲德先生说,他毫无疑问决心要学会自卫的艺术,因为他认为每个人都有义务学习它,这样就可能保护陷于危难之中的女性。
  可是菲德先生最大的宝物是一个绿色的大鼻烟壶,这是图茨先生在上一个假期结束的时候作为礼物赠送给他的;由于这是真正属于摄政王的财产,所以他曾付出一笔高价。不论是图茨先生还是菲德先生,吸这种或其他任何一种鼻烟,即使是极为节制极为适度的分量,都会连连不停地直打喷嚏。然而他们却喜欢用冷茶把一盒子鼻烟浸湿,用裁纸刀在一块羊皮纸上搅拌它,然后当场立即消费掉,这是他们极大的乐趣。在这过程中,他们把鼻子塞满,以殉道者坚定不移的精神忍受着惊人的折磨,并不时喝些餐用啤酒,得意扬扬地消遣娱乐。
  保罗跟他们一道,默默坐在他的主要保护人图茨先生的身旁,对他来说,这些毫无顾忌的消遣中有一种惊心动魄的魔力。菲德先生谈到伦敦黑暗的神秘事物时,告诉图茨先生,他打算在即将来临的假期中亲自去仔细研究观察它的所有各个方面;为了这个目的他已商量妥当,住在佩克姆两位年老的未婚妇女家中;这时保罗把他看成仿佛是某些旅行游览或疯狂冒险书籍中的英雄,对这样一位能猛砍乱斩的人物几乎都感到害怕了。
  假期很临近的一天晚上,保罗走进这个房间时,看到菲德先生正在填写印好的信笺中的空白部分,而另一些已经填写好并撒在他面前的信笺,图茨先生正在折迭它们,并在上面盖章。菲德先生说,“阿哈,董贝,您来啦,是不是?”——因为他们总是亲切地对待他,而且高兴看到他的——然后把其中的一封信向他扔去,说道,“也有一封是给您的,董贝。
  那是您的。”
  “我的吗,先生?”保罗说道。
  “您的请柬,”菲德先生回答道。
  保罗看了一眼,看到除了他自己的姓名及日期是菲德先生的笔迹外,请柬是用铜版印刷的,内容是:布林伯博士及夫人恭请保·董贝先生于本月十七日星期三晚间光临一个早晚会,开始时间是七时半,届时将跳四对舞。图茨先生举起相同的一张纸,让他看到:布林伯博士及夫人也恭请图茨先生于本月十七日星期三晚间光临一个早晚会,开始时间是七时半,届时将跳四对舞。他向菲德先生挨近坐着的那张桌子看了一眼,看到布林伯博士及夫人也恭请布里格斯先生、托泽先生以及其他每一位年轻的先生光临同一个愉快的晚会。
  然后菲德先生告诉他,也邀请他的姐姐参加,这使他感到十分高兴;还告诉他,这种晚会每半年举行一次;由于假期从那一天开始,所以如果他愿意,他可以在晚会以后跟他姐姐离开学校;保罗打断他的话说,他非常愿意。然后菲德先生让他了解,他必须用工整漂亮的字体写出回复,报告布林伯博士及夫人,保·董贝很高兴地接受他们恳切的邀请,有幸前来侍候他们。最后,菲德先生说,当布林伯博士和夫人在场的时候,最好别提这个喜庆的晚会,因为这些准备工作和整个安排都是根据古典主义和高尚教养的格调进行的;以布林伯博士和夫人为一方,以年轻的先生们为另一方,由于醉心于学术研究,假定他们对即将发生的事情丝毫也不知道。
  保罗谢谢菲德先生的这些指点,把请柬装进衣袋,像往常一样在图茨先生身旁的一条凳子上坐下来。可是保罗的头脑那天夜里感到很不舒服,他不得不用手支托着(他的头脑长久以来多少有些病痛,有时还很沉重与疼痛)。然而它还是往下低垂,逐渐地逐渐地垂落在图茨先生的膝盖上,并躺在那里,仿佛它不想再被抬起来似的。
  他没有任何理由会变聋,但他想他刚才一定聋了,因为不久以后他听到菲德先生在他的耳边喊他,并轻轻地摇动着他,引起他的注意。当他十分吃惊地抬起头来看看四周的时候,他发现布林伯博士已到房间里来了;窗子开着,他的前额被喷洒的水淋湿了;虽然他确实很奇怪,在他不知道的情况下,这一切是怎样发生的。
  “啊!喂,喂!好极了!我的小朋友现在觉得怎么样?”布林伯博士鼓励地说道。
  “啊,很好,谢谢您,先生,”保罗说道。
  可是地面似乎出了什么毛病,因为他不能稳定地站在上面;墙壁似乎也一样,因为它老爱旋转着,旋转着,只有非常使劲地注视着它们,才能使它们停止。图茨先生的头看上去既比正常时大,又比正常时远;当他用胳膊抱着保罗到楼上去的时候,保罗惊奇地注意到,门的位置跟他预料会看到的地方完全不同;最初他几乎以为图茨先生将迳直地走到烟囱上去。
  图茨先生一片好意,十分亲切地把他抱到了房屋的顶层,保罗对他的亲切的情谊表示感谢。可是图茨先生说,如果他能够的话,他愿意比这做更多的事情,而他确实是做了更多的事情,因为他极为亲切地帮助保罗脱掉衣服,帮助他上了床,然后在床边坐下,吃吃地笑着,笑了好一阵子;文学士菲德先生从床的另一端弯过身子,用瘦削的双手理着保罗头上的硬发,使它们竖得笔直,然后假装保罗已恢复健康,要向他灌输各种学问的样子;菲德先生做得非常滑稽,态度又十分亲切,保罗决定不了究竟是向他笑好还是哭好,所以就同时又笑又哭。
  图茨先生怎样消失不见,菲德先生又怎样转变成皮普钦太太的,保罗从没有想到要问,他也根本没有兴趣知道;但是当他看到皮普钦太太而不是菲德先生站在床的那一头的时候,他喊道:“皮普钦太太,别告诉弗洛伦斯!”
  “别告诉弗洛伦斯什么,我的小保罗?”皮普钦太太走到床边,在椅子上坐下来,说道。
  “我的情形,”保罗说道。
  “不会告诉,不会告诉,”皮普钦太太说道。
  “皮普钦太太,您想我长大以后,我想做什么?”保罗在枕头上转过脸来对着他,并沉思地把下巴搁在他交叉的双手上。
  皮普钦太太无法猜测。
  “我想,”保罗说道,“把我所有的钱都存在一个银行里,永远不想再赚更多的钱,然后跟我亲爱的弗洛伦斯离开城市到乡下去,那里有一个美丽的花园,还有田野和森林,跟她在那里住一辈子!”
  “真的吗?”皮普钦太太喊道。
  “是的,”保罗说道。“这就是我想做的,在我——”他停住了,然后沉思了一会儿。
  皮普钦太太的灰色眼睛细看着他的若有所思的脸孔。
  “如果我长大了,”保罗说道。然后他立刻接下去向皮普钦太太谈到晚会的一切情形,谈到邀请弗洛伦斯参加,谈到他会由于所有的男孩子都会爱慕她而感到自豪,谈到他们对他都很友善亲切和都喜欢他,谈到他很喜欢他们以及他为此而感到高兴。然后他向皮普钦太太谈到他的分析评语,谈到他确实老气,并想听听皮普钦太太对这一点的意见,和她是否知道为什么会这样以及这意味着什么。皮普钦太太完全否认这一事实,以此作为她摆脱困境的捷径。但是保罗对这一回答很不满意,寻根究底地望着皮普钦太太,期待着她给一个真实一些的回答,因此她不得不站起来,望着窗外,来避开他的眼睛。
  有一位沉着镇静的药剂师,不论哪一位年轻的先生病了,他就到学校里来。不知怎么的,他进了这个房间,并和布林伯夫人一起出现在床边。保罗不知道他们是怎样来到这里的以及他们在这里待了多久;但是当他看到他们的时候,他在床上坐起来,详详细细地回答药剂师的一切问题,并低声对他说,请他别让弗洛伦斯知道任何情形,还说他已下定决心让她来参加晚会。他跟药剂师絮絮叨叨地聊了很多话;离别的时候,他们已成了十分要好的朋友。当他闭上眼睛重新躺下的时候,他听到药剂师在房间外面很远的一个地方说——或者是他梦见这个情形——,他缺乏生命力(保罗纳闷这是什么!),体质十分虚弱;由于这小家伙决心在十七日那一天跟他的同学们离别,因此如果他的状况没有恶化的话,那么最好是满足他的愿望;保罗又听他说,他很高兴从皮普钦太太那里听到,这小家伙想在十八日到他伦敦的朋友家里去;他对病人的情况了解得更加清楚的时候,他将在十八日以前写信给董贝先生。现在没有直接的理由要——什么?保罗没有听清这个词。保罗还听到他说,这小家伙头脑聪明,但他是个老气的孩子。
  他那么明白地表达,许多人又那么清楚地看到的老气究竟是什么呢?保罗怀着一颗跳动的心感到纳闷。
  他弄不明白这一点,也没有长时间花心思去琢磨。皮普钦太太如果曾经离开的话(他想,他跟博士一起出去了,但也可能这全都是一场梦),现在她又在他身边了。不久,一个瓶和一个杯子魔术般地出现在她手里,她为他把瓶子里的东西倒出来。在这之后,布林伯夫人亲自给他送来一些真正美味的果子冻;然后他觉得自己很好,所以在他的迫切的恳求下,皮普钦太太就回家去了;布里格斯与托泽则回来睡觉了。可怜的布里格斯对他本人的分析评语感到愤愤不平;如果它是个化学过程的话,那么它也不会比这更使他烦恼不安;但是他对保罗很好,托泽对保罗也很好,其他所有人对他也都很好,因为他们每个人在就寝之前都前来看望他,并对他说,“您好吗,董贝?”“高兴起来,小董贝!”等等。布里格斯躺到床上以后,醒了好久,对他的分析评语仍旧喃喃抱怨着;他说,他知道它完全错了,他们要是对一个杀人犯进行分析,也不会比这分析得更坏的了;布林伯博士如果靠这挣钱过活的话,那么他怎么能喜欢它呢?布里格斯说,让一个孩子整整半年时间都成为划船的奴隶,然后在分析中把他评为懒惰;每星期从他应得的伙食中克扣去两个正餐,然后在分析中把他评为贪吃,这是很容易的;但他相信,这是不能使人心悦诚服的,是不是?啊!天哪!
  第二天早上,那位弱视的年轻人在敲锣之前上楼来告诉保罗,他还是在床上躺着,不用起来,保罗很高兴地依照他的话做了。皮普钦太太比药剂师早来一些时候,但在她来之前更早一些时候,保罗第一个早上(那时候离现在似乎多长久啊!)看到的那位清扫火炉的善良的年轻女人把他的早饭送来了。他们在一个远远的地方又开始商议,或者保罗又做了这样的梦,然后,药剂师跟布林伯博士和夫人一起走回来,说道:
  “是的,我想,布林伯博士,既然假期很快就要来临,那么我们现在就可以让这位年轻的先生从他的书本中摆脱出来了。”
  “当然可以,”布林伯博士说道。“亲爱的,劳驾你通知科妮莉亚一声。”
  “一定,”布林伯夫人说道。
  药剂师弯下身子,仔细地观察着保罗的眼睛,非常关切、非常细心地摸摸他的头、他的脉搏、他的心脏,因此,保罗说,“谢谢您,先生。”
  “我们的小朋友,”布林伯博士说道,“从来没有喊叫过痛苦。”
  “啊没有!”药剂师回答道。“他是不大可能喊叫痛苦的。”
  “您觉得他好多了吗?”布林伯博士问道。
  “啊,他好多了,先生,”药剂师回答道。
  保罗开始按照自己奇怪的方式来思考当时引起药剂师思考的问题;他是那么沉思地回答了布林伯博士的两个问题。可是,当他的小病人正开始进行内心探索时,药剂师正巧碰上了他的眼光,于是他就立刻用一个愉快的微笑停止了出神,保罗也用微笑回答他,不再思考了。
  他整天躺在床上,昏昏沉沉地睡着,做着梦,看着图茨先生;但第二天他起来了,走下楼去。哎哟,你看,大钟出了点什么事,一位站在梯子上的工人已把钟面卸下,现在正借着一支烛光,把工具戳进机械中去!对保罗来说,这是一件大事;他在楼梯最低的一级上坐下来,专心致志地看着正在进行的操作;有时向歪斜地靠在近旁墙上的钟面看一眼,心中有些不安地猜疑,它正在向他送秋波吧。
  梯子上的工人很有礼貌;当他看到保罗的时候,问他,“您好吗,先生?”于是保罗就跟他攀谈起来,告诉他,他最近身体不十分好。这样消除隔阂之后,保罗向他问了许多关于钟乐和时钟的问题;例如,人们是不是在寂寞的教堂尖塔里值夜,以便到时候敲响时钟;人们死去的时候,钟是怎样敲的,它们跟结婚的钟声是不是不同,还是仅仅是在活着的人们的幻想中听起来凄凉而已。当保罗发现他新结识的朋友对古代的熄灯晚钟①没有很多知识的时候,他就向他叙述了那个风俗;保罗还问他,作为一个讲究实际的人,他觉得艾尔弗雷德国王②用燃烧蜡烛的办法来计算时间的主意怎么样;工人回答说,他认为现在重新采用这种办法,时钟行业就会破产了。最后,保罗继续看着,直到时钟完全恢复了它平时的外貌,重新发出了它那沉着冷静的问题为止。这时候这位工人把工具收拾到一个长篮子中去,向他告别之后,离开了。虽然在这之前他走到门口擦鞋的棕垫那里时曾向男仆低声说了几句话,其中有“老气”这两个字——因为保罗听到了。
  --------
  ①中世纪,根据一项特别法律,在欧洲的许多城市,夜间到了规定的熄灯时间,就敲钟发出通知。
  ②艾尔弗雷德国王(KingAlfred,849—899年),别称艾尔弗雷德大帝(AlfredtheGreat),是九世纪时英格兰西南部撒克逊-韦塞克斯(Saxon-Wessex)王朝的国王(在位时间为871—899年);他治国井井有条,善制订一部重要法典;用点蜡烛来计算时间的方法就是他建议的。
  似乎使人们感到遗憾的“老气”究竟是什么呢?它究竟是什么呢?
  由于他现在不需要学习什么,所以他不时想到这一点;如果他要想的事情比现在少一些,那么他想到这一点的次数就会更多了。但是他有很多很多的事情要想;因此整天经常在想着。
  首先想到的是弗洛伦斯要来参加晚会。弗洛伦斯将会看到,男孩子们都喜欢他,这会使她高兴。这是他主要想的问题。让弗洛伦斯相信,他们对他都很温存、友善,他已成了他们所宠爱的小人儿,这样她想到他曾在这里度过的时光时心里就不会很难过。也许以后当他回到这里来的时候,弗洛伦斯也会感到高兴一些。
  当他回来的时候!每天十五次,他那小脚静悄悄地爬上楼梯,走进自己的房间,把书籍、纸片以及所有属于他的零星物品全都一一搜集起来,放在一起,直到最微细的小东西也不遗漏,准备着带回家去!丝毫也看不出小保罗还打算回来;没有作这样的准备;不论他想什么或做什么,都跟回来没有关系;只是当他想到他姐姐的时候,他才稍稍想到这一点。相反的,当他在房屋里四处漫步的时候,他不得不想到他所熟悉的一切事物,因为他即将与它们分离;因此他整天就不得不想到许多事情。
  他不得不去窥探楼上的那些房间;心想当他离开之后,它们将会多么冷落,将会继续肃静无声地度过多少个日子,多少个星期,多少个月和多少个年。他不得不想到,是不是会有另一个孩子(像他本人一样老气)在这里走来走去;这些奇形怪状的图案与家具是不是将同样呈现在他的眼前;是不是有人会跟这个孩子谈到有一位小董贝曾经在那里住过。
  他不得不想到楼梯上有一幅肖像,当他走过以后回头望着他的时候,他总是恳切地目送着他;当他跟不论什么人一起走过他身边的时候,他似乎仍在注视着他,而不是注视他的同伴。他不得不跟挂在另一个地方的一幅版画联系起来想到许多;在那幅版画中,一个他所知道的人,一个头的周围有着祥光的人,神情宽厚、温良、仁慈,手指着上方,站在一群惊奇的人们的中心。
  在他的卧室的窗子旁边,许许多多的思想跟这些思想掺合在一起,像滚滚波涛一样,一个接一个地涌了上来。那些在恶劣的天气中经常在海面盘旋的野鸟是在哪里栖息的?云是从哪里升起的,最初又是从哪里产生的?急速流动的风是从哪里刮起来的?又停在哪里?他与弗洛伦斯曾经经常坐着、注视着并谈论着这些事情的地方,没有他们在那里,能跟往常完全一样吗?如果他在某个遥远的地方,弗洛伦斯单独地坐在那里,它对她能跟往常一样吗?
  他也不得不想到图茨先生和文学士菲德先生;不得不想到所有的孩子们;不得不想到布林伯博士、布林伯夫人和布林伯小姐;不得不想到家,想到他的姑妈和托克斯小姐;不得不想到他的父亲、董贝父子公司、沃尔特和他那可怜的、年老的、得到了他所需要的钱的舅舅,以及那位声音粗哑,有一只铁手的船长。除此之外,在白天当中,他还需要去看望好些地方;到教室里去,到布林伯博士的书房里去,到布林伯夫人专用的房间里去,到布林伯小姐个人专用的房间里去,还要到那条狗那里去。因为他现在能够根据自己的意愿在整个房屋里自由地走来走去,并且因为他想跟每个人都在深厚的情谊中分别,所以他就用他自己的方式去为他们所有的人效劳。有时他为布里格斯在书中找到他常常找不到的地方;有时他为其他陷入困境的年轻的先生们从词典中查找出单词来;有时他为布林伯夫人握着一束丝,让她绕成线团;有时他把科妮莉亚的书桌收拾整齐;有时他甚至会悄悄地溜进博士的书房,坐在他的博学的脚旁的地毯上,轻轻地转动着地球仪和天体仪,环游世界,或在遥远的星际间飞行。
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
举报 只看该作者 15楼  发表于: 2013-11-03 0

  总之,在那些最接近假期的日子里,当其他年轻的先生们正拼命地复习整整半年来的功课的时候,保罗是在那座房屋中前所未有的享受特权的学生;他本人也难以相信这一点;可是他的自由一个小时又一个小时、一天又一天地持续着;小董贝被每一个人爱抚着。布林伯博士对他特别照顾,有一天约翰逊缺乏考虑地向保罗说了一声“可怜的小董贝”,博士就请他离开餐桌;保罗虽然当时曾经脸红了一阵,奇怪约翰逊为什么会怜悯他,但觉得处分有些严厉与苛刻。前一天晚上他清清楚楚地偷听到这位伟大的权威人物曾同意布林伯夫人提出这种看法:可怜的、亲爱的小董贝比过去更老气了,所以他认为博士对约翰逊的处理是否公正就更有问题了。现在保罗开始想,如果很消瘦,虚弱,容易疲倦,很快就想在任何地方躺下休息,那一定是老气无疑了;因为他不由自主地感到,这些愈来愈成为他每天的习惯了。
  举行晚会的日子终于来临了;布林伯博士在早餐时说道,“先生们,我们将在下个月的二十五日重新开始学习。”图茨先生立刻扔掉了恭敬顺从的枷锁,戴上了戒指,在不久以后随随便便的谈话中提到博士的时候,竟居然把他叫做“布林伯”!这种自由放任的行动在年龄较大的学生中间引起了钦佩与羡慕,但却把年龄较小的学生吓得毛骨悚然,他们似乎感到奇怪,梁木居然没有掉下来把他压得粉身碎骨。
  在早餐或午餐时,丝毫也没有提到晚间的仪式;但屋子里整天都在忙乱着,保罗在漫步的过程中,看到了各种奇怪的长凳和烛台,还看到竖立在客厅门外梯台上的罩着绿色大外套的竖琴。午餐时布林伯夫人的头也有些变得奇怪,仿佛她把头发卷得太紧了;布林伯小姐虽然每个鬓角各有一根雅致的辫子,可是她自己的短短的卷发似乎下面也用纸卷扎,而且还用剧场节目单卷扎;因为保罗在她的闪闪发亮的眼镜一边的上方看到“皇家剧院”几个字,在另一边的上方看到“布赖顿”几个字。
  在临近晚上的时候,在年轻的先生们的卧室里,展现出一片白色的背心与领带,十分富丽,同时散发出头发末梢被烫了的气味;由于气味十分强烈,因此布林伯博士派男仆上楼来,一边向大家问候,一边想了解一下房屋是不是着火了。但实际上只是理发员在给年轻的先生们做卷发,他在热情工作中把火钳子烧得太热了。
  保罗穿好衣服——这件事做得很快,因为他觉得不舒服,昏昏欲睡,而且不能很久站着——以后,走到楼下客厅里;他在那里看到布林伯博士穿着礼服,正在房间里踱着步子,但是他的神态威严,漫不经心,仿佛他认为不久会有一两个人进来看看,这是完全可能的。不一会儿,布林伯夫人进来了,保罗觉得她看上去美丽可爱;她穿了那么多的裙子,因此在她周围走一圈,就有些像是进行一次小小的旅行似的。布林伯小姐在她妈妈之后不久就下来了,她看去衣服穿得有点过于紧窄,但很娇媚。
  接着来到的是图茨先生和菲德先生。这两位先生每人手里都拿着礼帽,仿佛他们是住在其他地方似的;当男管家通报他们来到的时候,布林伯博士说道,“是啊,是啊,是啊!上帝保佑我的灵魂!”并似乎非常高兴见到他们。图茨先生闪耀着珠宝饰物和钮扣,而且他把这个情况看得很重要;当他跟布林伯博士握过手,并向布林伯夫人和布林伯小姐鞠过躬之后,他把保罗拉到一旁,问道,“您对这有什么想法,董贝?”
  图茨先生虽然怀有适度的自信心,但是总的来说,他背心上最下面的一颗钮扣究竟扣上是不是合适,同时把一切情况冷静思考过之后,他的袖口究竟最好是卷上来还是卷下去,他好像都很犹豫不决。当他看到菲德先生的袖口是卷上的,他就把自己的袖口也卷上,但下一个来的人的袖口是卷下的,他就把自己的袖口也卷下。背心的钮扣的扣法不仅在最下面的一颗,而且在最上面的一颗也有差别;随着来到的人们愈来愈多,这些差别变得那么多那么复杂,因此图茨先生的手指就不断地翻动着衣服上的那个附属品,仿佛在操作某个仪器似的;他觉得这种要求不停进行的动作真使人不知该怎么办才好。
  所有这些年轻的先生们,领带系得紧紧的,头发烫得卷卷曲曲,脚上穿着轻舞鞋,手里拿着最好的礼帽,都在不同的时间被通报和介绍了;在这之后,舞蹈教师巴普斯先生在巴普斯夫人的陪同下来到了,布林伯夫人对他们特别亲切友好和谦虚有礼。巴普斯先生是一位很庄重的先生,讲话慢条斯理,字斟句酌;他在灯下站了不到五分钟,就开始跟图茨先生谈话(图茨先生一直在默默地跟他比较轻舞鞋),谈的是:当别人把原料送到您的港口跟您交换金子的时候,您该怎么处理您的原料。这个问题对图茨先生来说是复杂难解的,他就建议说,“把它们煮了。”可是巴普斯先生看来并不认为那是个可行的办法。
  这时保罗从沙发中垫上垫子的一个角落(他把它作为他的观察哨)中悄悄地溜开,走到楼下一个喝茶的房间中,准备迎接弗洛伦斯;他已经将近两个星期没有看到她了;因为唯恐会着凉,他在上星期六和星期天都留在布林伯博士的学校中。不一会儿她来了;她穿着朴素的舞衣,手里拿着鲜花,看上去是那么美丽;她跪到地上,搂着保罗的脖子,并吻着他(因为除了他的朋友梅丽亚和在那里等着向外端茶的另一位年轻的妇女外,没有其他人在那里),这时候他简直下不了决心让她再走开,或把她的明亮的、喜爱他的眼睛从他的脸上移开。
  “可是这是怎么回事,弗洛伊?”保罗问道;他几乎可以肯定,他在那里看到一颗眼泪。
  “没有什么,亲爱的,没有什么,”弗洛伦斯回答道。
  保罗用手指轻轻地摸摸她的脸颊——不错,那确实是一颗眼泪!“啊,弗洛伊!”他说道。
  “我们将一起回家去;我将护理您,亲爱的,”弗洛伦斯说道。
  “护理我!”保罗重复地说道。
  保罗不明白这跟眼泪有什么关系,也不明白为什么这两位年轻的妇女这么认真地看着,也不明白为什么弗洛伦斯把脸转过去片刻,然后又转回来,闪露着微笑。
  “弗洛伊,”保罗手中握着她的一束黑色的卷发,说道,“告诉我,亲爱的。你是不是认为我变得老气了?”
  他的姐姐大笑着,爱抚着他,告诉他说,“不!”
  “因为我知道他们这么说,”保罗回答道,“我想知道他们这么说是什么意思,弗洛伊。”
  可是门上传来很响的敲门声,弗洛伦斯急忙走到桌旁,姐弟两人就没有再说什么话。保罗看到他的朋友梅丽亚向弗洛伦斯低声说了些什么,仿佛在安慰她似的,这又使他感到奇怪;但是一位新来的人迅速地驱除了他头脑中的诧异。
  这是巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士、斯克特尔斯夫人和斯克特尔斯少爷。假期结束以后,斯克特尔斯少爷将是一名新学生;他的父亲是下议院的议员,在菲德先生的房间中一直享有盛名;菲德先生谈起他的时候,曾说,当议长准许他发言的时候(人们期望他发言已有三四年了),人们就可以指望他会猛烈抨击激进主义者。
  “比方说,这是什么房间呢?”斯克特尔斯夫人向保罗的朋友梅丽亚问道。
  “布林伯博士的书房,夫人,”这是回答。
  斯克特尔斯夫人通过长柄眼镜对房间作了全貌性的观察之后,赞许地点点头,并对巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士说,“很好。”巴尼特爵士同意,但斯克特尔斯少爷却满脸疑云,不肯相信。
  “那么这位小人儿呢,”斯克特尔斯夫人转向保罗,说道,“这是一位——”
  “年轻的先生,夫人,是的,夫人,”保罗的朋友说道。
  “您姓什么,我这位脸色苍白的孩子?”斯克特尔斯夫人问道。
  “董贝,”保罗回答道。
  巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士立刻插嘴道,他曾荣幸地在一个公共宴会上遇见保罗的父亲,他祝愿他身体很好。然后保罗听到他跟斯克特尔斯夫人说,“城里——很有钱——极值得尊敬——博士说到过。”然后他对保罗说,“请告诉您的好爸爸,巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士听说他的身体很健康,感到很高兴,并请向他转达他最好的问候,好吗?”
  “好的,先生,”保罗回答道。
  “那是我勇敢的孩子,”巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士说道。
  “巴尼特,”他转向斯克特尔斯少爷;斯克特尔斯少爷正在大吃葡萄干饼干,对即将来临的学习进行报复,“这是一位你可以认识的年轻的先生,巴尼特,”巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士说道,他对准许这一点加强了语气。
  “这是什么样的眼睛啊!什么样的头发啊!一张多么可爱的脸孔啊!”斯克特尔斯夫人通过她的长柄眼镜看到弗洛伦斯的时候,温柔而又高声地喊道。
  “我的姐姐,”保罗介绍她说。
  斯克托尔斯这一家人现在完全满意了。由于斯克托尔斯夫人一看见保罗就喜欢上了他,他们就一起上楼去;巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士照看弗洛伦斯,小巴尼特则跟随在后面。
  他们到达客厅以后,小巴尼特没有长久处在不引人注意的地位,因为布林伯博士立刻把他拉了出来,要他跟弗洛伦斯跳舞。保罗觉得他不显得特别快乐,除了阴沉着脸或对他自己未来的事情关心外,没有表现出其他的情绪;但是因为保罗听到斯克特尔斯夫人对正用扇子打着拍子的布林伯夫人说,她亲爱的孩子显然已被那位天使般的女孩子董贝小姐深深地迷住了,所以这么看来,小斯克托尔斯正处在幸福快乐的状态中,只是他没有把它表露出来罢了。
  小保罗认为,这是个奇怪的巧合:没有任何人抢占他在那些坐垫中的位子;当他重新来到房间里来的时候,他们记得那是他的位子,全都让出路来,让他回到那里去;当他们注意到他喜欢看弗洛伦斯跳舞的时候,没有一个人站在他前面,而是在他前面留出空地,这样他的眼睛就可以跟随着她转。他们对他都很亲切,甚至不久来到的许多陌生人也一样,不时前来跟他谈话,问他身体好吗,头是不是痛,以及是不是觉得疲倦。他对他们的亲切与关心十分感谢。他靠在角落里垫起的座垫上,跟布林伯夫人和斯克托尔斯夫人坐在同一张沙发上;每次舞跳完之后,弗洛伦斯就立刻走来坐在他的身旁;因此他确实观看得很快乐。
  弗洛伦斯愿意整夜坐在他的身旁;如果按照她自己的心意,她宁肯一次舞也不跳;但是保罗让她跳,告诉她,他很喜欢看到她跳舞。他跟她讲的也是真话,因为他看到他们全都那么强烈地爱慕她,她在房间中是多么美丽的一个小玫瑰骨朵,这时候他小小的心感到兴奋得意,他的脸闪耀着红光。
  保罗从坐垫中间她休息的地方可以看见和听见几乎所发生的每一件事情,仿佛一切都是为了他的娱乐而安排的。在他注意观察到的一些小事情中,他注意到舞蹈教师巴普斯跟巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士交谈,就像他曾间过图茨先生那样,很快就问他,当别人把原料运到您的港口来交换您的金子的时候,您将怎样处理您的原料——保罗觉得这是一件神秘莫测的事情,很想弄个明白,究竟应该怎么办呢。巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士在这个问题上有许多话要说,他也就说了,但好像没有解决问题,因为巴普斯先生反驳说,是的,但是假设俄国人用牛脂来干预,那该怎么办,它使巴尼特爵士几乎哑口无言,因为在这之后他只能摇摇头说,他想,那么您就必须求助于您的棉花了。
  巴普斯先生走到巴普斯夫人那里去,让她高兴起来(她因为被冷落在一旁,正假装在看那位演奏竖琴的先生的乐谱),这时巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士目送着他,仿佛他认为他是一位超群出众的人物似的。不久,他向布林伯博士说了这些话,并问道,他是否可以冒昧地问一下他是谁,他是否曾经在商业部工作过。布林伯博士回答说,没有,他相信没有;
  实际上他是一位教授,教——。
  “我敢肯定,是教与统计有关的什么学科的吧?”巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士说道。
  “啊,不,巴尼特爵士,”布林伯博士擦擦下巴,回答道。
  “不,准确地说不是。”
  “我敢打赌,是教某种数字计算的,”巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士说道。
  “啊不错,”布林伯博士说,“不错,不过不是您所说的那种①。巴普斯先生是一位很值得尊敬的人,巴尼特爵士,——
  实际上他是我们的舞蹈教授。”
  保罗吃惊地看到,这个信息大大改变了巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士对巴普斯先生的看法,巴尼特爵士火冒三丈,怒视着在房间的另一边的巴普斯先生。他们经过的情形告诉斯克特尔斯夫人时,甚至当她的面咒骂巴普斯先生该死,说他真是无比的、十足的厚颜无耻。
  保罗还注意到另一件事情。菲德先生喝了几杯倒在乳黄色玻璃杯里的尼格斯酒②之后,开始享受乐趣。舞蹈总的来说是拘泥礼仪的,音乐相当严肃——实际上有些像教堂音乐——,但是菲德先生几杯下肚之后,对图茨先生说,他打算把晚会搞得热闹有趣一些。在这之后,菲德先生不仅开始跳舞,仿佛他只是想跳舞,而不想做别的事情,而且还在暗中鼓动乐队演奏狂热的曲调。另外,他开始对女士们特别献殷勤;当他跟布林伯小姐跳舞的时候,他还在她耳边悄悄地说——在她耳边悄悄地说!——但是声音并不是轻到使保罗听不到他念了这首美妙的诗:
  “如果我有一颗心完全虚伪,
  那么伤害您我却永远不会!”③
  --------
  ①巴尼特爵士说“某种数字计算(figuresofsomesort)”,博士说不是他所说的那种。因为figures的一个意义是计算,另一个意义是舞蹈中的舞步形式。
  ②尼格斯酒(negus):用热水、糖、柠檬、香料和酒混合成的饮料。
  ③理查德·布林斯里·谢立丹(RichardBrinsleySheridan,1975—1816年)所写喜剧《伴娘》(TheDuenna)中唐·卡洛斯(DonCarlos)所唱的小曲。
  保罗听到他把这首诗连续重复念给四位年轻的女士听。菲德先生对图茨先生说,他担心明天他将因此而遭受惩罚,这话也许是很有道理的。
  这种相对说来放荡的行为,特别是音乐格调的改变(它开始把街上流行的低级庸俗的曲调也包括进来了),使布林伯夫人有些惊慌,因为这自然是会使斯克特尔斯夫人感到生气的。但是斯克特尔斯夫人十分和善,她请布林伯夫人不必介意,而且极为亲切极有礼貌地接受了布林伯夫人的解释:菲德先生有时在这种场合下兴奋起来,就会做出过火的事情来;她说,就他的身份来说,他似乎是个很讨人喜欢的人;还说,她特别喜欢他那质朴的发型(前面已经提到过,那只有四分之一英寸长)。
  有一次,当跳舞中间停歇的时候,斯克特尔斯夫人对保罗说,他似乎很喜欢音乐。保罗回答说,是的;如果她也喜欢,那么她应当听他姐姐弗洛伦斯唱歌。斯克托尔斯夫人立刻发现,她真愿意她的这个渴望能得到满足,简直渴望得要死了;弗洛伦斯虽然起初听到要她在这么多的人们面前唱歌十分惊慌,因此恳切地请求原谅她不唱;可是保罗把她喊到他那里,说,“唱吧,弗洛伊!请唱吧!为了我,我亲爱的!”这时候,她就迳直地走向钢琴,开始唱起来。所有的人全都往旁边闪开一些,让保罗可以看到她;他看到她独自一人坐在那里,那么年轻,善良,美丽,对他那么亲切;他听到她的响亮动人的声音那么自然、甜美;同时,一个在他与他一生的一切爱情和幸福之间的金环,正从寂静中升起来;这时候他把脸转开,掩藏他的眼泪。
  他们全都爱弗洛伦斯!他们怎么能不爱呢!保罗事先就知道,他们一定会爱她而且将会爱她的。当他坐有坐垫中间角落里,平静地交叉着双手,松弛地向下蜷曲着一条腿的时候,很少人会想到,当他注视她时,是什么样的得意与喜悦使他幼稚的胸膛扩张,同时的又感觉到一种什么样的甜蜜与平静啊!对“董贝的姐姐”的热情洋溢的赞扬从所有的男孩子那里传到他的耳朵里;对这位沉着与谦逊的小美人的羡慕从每张嘴中说出;对她的智慧与才能的评论不断在他身旁散布;同时,可以模糊地觉察到,有一种与弗洛伦斯与他本人有关的、对他们两人表示同情的情感,仿佛扩散在夏夜的空气中似的,在他四周传播开来,安慰着他并使他感动。
  他不知道为什么。因为这孩子这天夜里所观察到的,感觉到的和想到的一切——不论是在呈现出来的还是没有呈现出来的,现在的还是过去的——就像那彩虹中的颜色一样,或太阳照耀下彩色鸟的羽毛的颜色一样,或太阳沉落时光线淡弱的天空中的颜色一样,全都混合在一起了。他最近不得不想到的许多事情在音乐中,在他眼前掠过;它们不再引起他的注意,今后也未必能让他去耗费心思;它们好像已经平静地处理过了,已经过去了。他几年前注视过的一个幽静的窗子面对着几英里以外的海洋;他昨天还在海浪上翻腾着的幻想就像平息的波涛一样,消释了,安静了。当他躺在海滩上的摇篮车中曾经感到奇怪的那神秘的、同样的低语声,他想他仍旧可以通过他姐姐的歌声,通过嘈杂的人声和通过脚步声听得出来,而且在轻轻走过去的脸孔中,甚至在时常前来跟他握手的图茨先生的深切的温存中,也多少反映了这一点。他通过周围普遍存在的亲切气氛,仍旧认为它在对他说话。他不知怎么的,甚至他的老气的名声似乎也与它联系着。小保罗就这样坐在那里沉思着,听着。看着,做着梦,感到很快乐。
  一直到告别的时间来到:这时候,晚会中确实出现了一片激动的感情。巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士领着小斯克特尔斯来跟保罗握手,问他,他是否记得告诉他的好爸爸,他巴尼特·斯克特尔斯爵士说过,他希望这两位年轻的先生会成为亲密的朋友,并向他转达他的最亲切的问候。斯克特尔斯夫人吻了他,把他的头发在前额上分开,并把他抱在手中;甚至巴普斯夫人也从演奏竖琴的年轻人的乐谱旁边走过来,像房间里所有的人一样,十分热情地向他告别——可怜的巴普斯夫人!小保罗看到她这样做,感到很高兴。
  “再见,布林伯博士,”保罗伸出手,说道。
  “再见,我的小朋友,”博士回答道。
  “我很感谢您,先生,”保罗天真地仰起头来,望着他那可怕的脸。“烦请您吩咐他们好好照料戴奥吉尼斯①。”
  --------
  ①戴奥吉尼斯(Diogenea,公元前《412?—323年),亦译第欧根尼或提奥奇尼斯,希腊犬儒派哲学家。这里把他作为那条狗的名字。
  戴奥吉尼斯就是那条狗;他在他的一生中,在保罗来到之前,从来不曾有过一个可以信赖的朋友。博士答应当保罗不在的时候,他们将会非常细心地照料戴奥吉尼斯;保罗再次感谢他,并跟他握手之后,怀着极为衷心的、恳切的感情,向布林伯夫人和科妮莉亚告别,因此布林伯夫人本来整个晚上都打算向斯克特尔斯夫人提到西塞罗的,但从这时刻起她就把这件事完全忘掉了。科妮莉亚把保罗的双手握在手中,说“董贝,董贝,您一直是我最喜欢的学生。上帝保佑您!”保罗心想“这一点表明,一个人是多么容易冤屈一个人啊!因为布林伯小姐虽然是一个刽子手,但她是一位心口如一的人,她的话是真实的。”
  然后年轻的先生们中间嘁嘁喳喳地响起一片讲话的声音,“董贝要走了!”“小董贝要走了!”人群跟着保罗和弗洛伦斯向楼下和大厅里移动,其中包括布林伯全家人。菲德先生大声说道,在他的记忆中,从前任何一位年轻的先生从来不曾有过这样的情形,但很难说这是在清醒状态下眼见的事实还是杯中物在他脑中所引起的幻觉。以男管家为首的仆人们对送别小董贝都感到兴趣,甚至连那位提着他的书籍和衣箱向马车走去的弱视的年轻人也显然深受感动(当天晚上马车将把他和弗洛伦斯送到皮普钦太太那里去)。
  甚至这些年轻的先生们的脉脉温情——他们全都非常喜欢弗洛伦斯——也没有能抑制他们十分喧闹地向保罗告别;他们向他挥着帽子,拥挤着下楼去跟他握手,一个个喊着:“董贝,别忘了我!”,并用其他方式放纵地让感情迸发出来,在这些年轻的切斯特菲尔德①当中,这是异乎寻常的。在门没有打开之前,弗洛伦斯包裹着保罗,这时他在她耳边悄悄地问道,她听到他们说的话了吗?她以后会忘记吗?她是不是感到高兴?他对她说话的时候,眼睛中露出了极为喜悦的神色。
  --------
  ①年轻的切斯特菲尔德:意指知道保持优良风度的年轻人。英国政治家、外交家切斯特菲尔德伯爵(第四)(PhilipDormerStanhope,4thearlofChestfield,1694—1773年)在他所著《给儿子的几封信》(LetterstoHisSon)和《给教子的几封信》(LetterstoHisGodson)两本书中,提出了上流社会生活的一些规则,教人怎样讲究礼貌,怎样取悦于人,怎样在社会上取得成就。这两本书是十八世纪英国贵族与资产阶级的必读书。
  他又一次转过头去最后看看这些这样向他致意的脸孔,这时他惊奇地看到,它们是多么神采奕奕,喜气洋洋;它们是多么多;它们又多么像拥挤的剧院中的脸孔一样,全都熙熙攘攘地堆挤在一起。当他看着它们的时候,它们在他面前浮动,就像一面颤动的镜子中所照出的脸形一样。片刻之后,他就坐在黑暗的马车中,紧贴着弗洛伦斯。从那时起,每当他想起布林伯博士的学校时,它在他心中重现的就是他所看到的这个最后的景象;它永远不再像是一个真实的地方,而总是一个充满了眼睛的梦。
  可是,这还不完全是布林伯博士学校的最后一幕。还有一些别的事情。有图茨先生。他出乎意料地把马车的一个窗子的挡板拉下了,往里探视,并发出了极不自然的吃吃的笑声,问道,“董贝在这里吗?”然后不等回答,立即又把窗子的挡板推上。甚至这也不是图茨先生的最后的一幕。因为在车夫赶着马车离开之前,他又同样突然地把马车另一个窗子的挡板拉下了,发出了完全相同的吃吃的笑声,往里探视,并用完全相同的声音问道:“董贝在这里吗?”,并且完全跟先前一样地消失不见了。
  弗洛伦斯是怎样地哈哈大笑啊!保罗时常记起这个情景,每当记起的时候,他自己就哈哈大笑起来。
  但是不久以后——第二天,以及在那以后,又发生了许多事情,保罗只能混乱不清地回忆起来了。比方说,为什么他们日日夜夜待在皮普钦太太那里,而没有回家去;为什么他躺在床上,弗洛伦斯坐在他的旁边;他的父亲有没有到房间里来过,还是仅仅是墙上的一个高大的影子;他是不是曾听到他的医生谈到某个人的时候说,如果他们在他曾建立起种种幻想的那个时候来到之前(跟他体质的虚弱相比,这幻想是很强有力的),就让他离开,他就很可能会消瘦下去。
  他甚至也不能记得,他是不是时常对弗洛伦斯说,“啊弗洛伊,带我回家去!永远别离开我!”可是他想,他曾经说过。有时他似乎觉得他听到自己不时重复地说道,“带我回家去!
  弗洛伊!带我回家去!”
  但是当他回到家里,被抱上他很熟悉的楼上的时候,他却能够记起,在这之前好多个钟头,马车一直在辚辚响着,当时他躺在车中的坐位上,弗洛伦斯仍在他的身旁,年老的皮普钦太太则坐在对面。当他们让他躺在他过去的床上的时候,他还记得它,记得他的姑妈、托克斯小姐和苏珊;但是还有其他一些事情,而且是最近的事情,仍然使他感到困惑不解。
  “麻烦您,我想跟弗洛伦斯说话,”他说道,“只跟弗洛伦斯说一会儿。”
  她向他弯下身子,其他人则站得远远的。
  “弗洛伊,我亲爱的,当他们把我从马车中抱下来的时候,爸爸是不是在前厅里?”
  “是的,亲爱的。”
  “当他看到我进来的时候,他没有哭,也没有走进他自己的房间里去,是不是,弗洛伊?”
  弗洛伦斯点点头,并把嘴唇紧紧压着他的脸颊。
  “我很高兴他没有哭,小保罗说道。“我原以为他哭了。别告诉他们我问了什么。”




Chapter 15
Amazing Artfulness of Captain Cuttle, and a new Pursuit for Walter Gay
Walter could not, for several days, decide what to do in the Barbados business; and even cherished some faint hope that Mr Dombey might not have meant what he had said, or that he might change his mind, and tell him he was not to go. But as nothing occurred to give this idea (which was sufficiently improbable in itself) any touch of confirmation, and as time was slipping by, and he had none to lose, he felt that he must act, without hesitating any longer.
Walter's chief difficulty was, how to break the change in his affairs to Uncle Sol, to whom he was sensible it would he a terrible blow. He had the greater difficulty in dashing Uncle Sol's spirits with such an astounding piece of intelligence, because they had lately recovered very much, and the old man had become so cheerful, that the little back parlour was itself again. Uncle Sol had paid the first appointed portion of the debt to Mr Dombey, and was hopeful of working his way through the rest; and to cast him down afresh, when he had sprung up so manfully from his troubles, was a very distressing necessity.
Yet it would never do to run away from him. He must know of it beforehand; and how to tell him was the point. As to the question of going or not going, Walter did not consider that he had any power of choice in the matter. Mr Dombey had truly told him that he was young, and that his Uncle's circumstances were not good; and Mr Dombey had plainly expressed, in the glance with which he had accompanied that reminder, that if he declined to go he might stay at home if he chose, but not in his counting-house. His Uncle and he lay under a great obligation to Mr Dombey, which was of Walter's own soliciting. He might have begun in secret to despair of ever winning that gentleman's favour, and might have thought that he was now and then disposed to put a slight upon him, which was hardly just. But what would have been duty without that, was still duty with it - or Walter thought so- and duty must be done.
When Mr Dombey had looked at him, and told him he was young, and that his Uncle's circumstances were not good, there had been an expression of disdain in his face; a contemptuous and disparaging assumption that he would be quite content to live idly on a reduced old man, which stung the boy's generous soul. Determined to assure Mr Dombey, in so far as it was possible to give him the assurance without expressing it in words, that indeed he mistook his nature, Walter had been anxious to show even more cheerfulness and activity after the West Indian interview than he had shown before: if that were possible, in one of his quick and zealous disposition. He was too young and inexperienced to think, that possibly this very quality in him was not agreeable to Mr Dombey, and that it was no stepping-stone to his good opinion to be elastic and hopeful of pleasing under the shadow of his powerful displeasure, whether it were right or wrong. But it may have been - it may have been- that the great man thought himself defied in this new exposition of an honest spirit, and purposed to bring it down.
'Well! at last and at least, Uncle Sol must be told,' thought Walter, with a sigh. And as Walter was apprehensive that his voice might perhaps quaver a little, and that his countenance might not be quite as hopeful as he could wish it to be, if he told the old man himself, and saw the first effects of his communication on his wrinkled face, he resolved to avail himself of the services of that powerful mediator, Captain Cuttle. Sunday coming round, he set off therefore, after breakfast, once more to beat up Captain Cuttle's quarters.
It was not unpleasant to remember, on the way thither, that Mrs MacStinger resorted to a great distance every Sunday morning, to attend the ministry of the Reverend Melchisedech Howler, who, having been one day discharged from the West India Docks on a false suspicion (got up expressly against him by the general enemy) of screwing gimlets into puncheons, and applying his lips to the orifice, had announced the destruction of the world for that day two years, at ten in the morning, and opened a front parlour for the reception of ladies and gentlemen of the Ranting persuasion, upon whom, on the first occasion of their assemblage, the admonitions of the Reverend Melchisedech had produced so powerful an effect, that, in their rapturous performance of a sacred jig, which closed the service, the whole flock broke through into a kitchen below, and disabled a mangle belonging to one of the fold.
This the Captain, in a moment of uncommon conviviality, had confided to Walter and his Uncle, between the repetitions of lovely Peg, on the night when Brogley the broker was paid out. The Captain himself was punctual in his attendance at a church in his own neighbourhood, which hoisted the Union Jack every Sunday morning; and where he was good enough - the lawful beadle being infirm - to keep an eye upon the boys, over whom he exercised great power, in virtue of his mysterious hook. Knowing the regularity of the Captain's habits, Walter made all the haste he could, that he might anticipate his going out; and he made such good speed, that he had the pleasure, on turning into Brig Place, to behold the broad blue coat and waistcoat hanging out of the Captain's oPen window, to air in the sun.
It appeared incredible that the coat and waistcoat could be seen by mortal eyes without the Captain; but he certainly was not in them, otherwise his legs - the houses in Brig Place not being lofty- would have obstructed the street door, which was perfectly clear. Quite wondering at this discovery, Walter gave a single knock.
'Stinger,' he distinctly heard the Captain say, up in his room, as if that were no business of his. Therefore Walter gave two knocks.
'Cuttle,' he heard the Captain say upon that; and immediately afterwards the Captain, in his clean shirt and braces, with his neckerchief hanging loosely round his throat like a coil of rope, and his glazed hat on, appeared at the window, leaning out over the broad blue coat and waistcoat.
'Wal'r!' cried the Captain, looking down upon him in amazement.
'Ay, ay, Captain Cuttle,' returned Walter, 'only me'
'What's the matter, my lad?' inquired the Captain, with great concern. 'Gills an't been and sprung nothing again?'
'No, no,' said Walter. 'My Uncle's all right, Captain Cuttle.'
The Captain expressed his gratification, and said he would come down below and open the door, which he did.
'Though you're early, Wal'r,' said the Captain, eyeing him still doubtfully, when they got upstairs:
'Why, the fact is, Captain Cuttle,' said Walter, sitting down, 'I was afraid you would have gone out, and I want to benefit by your friendly counsel.'
'So you shall,' said the Captain; 'what'll you take?'
'I want to take your opinion, Captain Cuttle,' returned Walter, smiling. 'That's the only thing for me.'
'Come on then,' said the Captain. 'With a will, my lad!'
Walter related to him what had happened; and the difficulty in which he felt respecting his Uncle, and the relief it would be to him if Captain Cuttle, in his kindness, would help him to smooth it away; Captain Cuttle's infinite consternation and astonishment at the prospect unfolded to him, gradually swallowing that gentleman up, until it left his face quite vacant, and the suit of blue, the glazed hat, and the hook, apparently without an owner.
'You see, Captain Cuttle,' pursued Walter, 'for myself, I am young, as Mr Dombey said, and not to be considered. I am to fight my way through the world, I know; but there are two points I was thinking, as I came along, that I should be very particular about, in respect to my Uncle. I don't mean to say that I deserve to be the pride and delight of his life - you believe me, I know - but I am. Now, don't you think I am?'
The Captain seemed to make an endeavour to rise from the depths of his astonishment, and get back to his face; but the effort being ineffectual, the glazed hat merely nodded with a mute, unutterable meaning.
'If I live and have my health,' said Walter, 'and I am not afraid of that, still, when I leave England I can hardly hope to see my Uncle again. He is old, Captain Cuttle; and besides, his life is a life of custom - '
'Steady, Wal'r! Of a want of custom?' said the Captain, suddenly reappearing.
'Too true,' returned Walter, shaking his head: 'but I meant a life of habit, Captain Cuttle - that sort of custom. And if (as you very truly said, I am sure) he would have died the sooner for the loss of the stock, and all those objects to which he has been accustomed for so many years, don't you think he might die a little sooner for the loss of - '
'Of his Nevy,' interposed the Captain. 'Right!'
'Well then,' said Walter, trying to speak gaily, 'we must do our best to make him believe that the separation is but a temporary one, after all; but as I know better, or dread that I know better, Captain Cuttle, and as I have so many reasons for regarding him with affection, and duty, and honour, I am afraid I should make but a very poor hand at that, if I tried to persuade him of it. That's my great reason for wishing you to break it out to him; and that's the first point.'
'Keep her off a point or so!' observed the Captain, in a comtemplative voice.
'What did you say, Captain Cuttle?' inquired Walter.
'Stand by!' returned the Captain, thoughtfully.
Walter paused to ascertain if the Captain had any particular information to add to this, but as he said no more, went on.
'Now, the second point, Captain Cuttle. I am sorry to say, I am not a favourite with Mr Dombey. I have always tried to do my best, and I have always done it; but he does not like me. He can't help his likings and dislikings, perhaps. I say nothing of that. I only say that I am certain he does not like me. He does not send me to this post as a good one; he disclaims to represent it as being better than it is; and I doubt very much if it will ever lead me to advancement in the House - whether it does not, on the contrary, dispose of me for ever, and put me out of the way. Now, we must say nothing of this to my Uncle, Captain Cuttle, but must make it out to be as favourable and promising as we can; and when I tell you what it really is, I only do so, that in case any means should ever arise of lending me a hand, so far off, I may have one friend at home who knows my real situation.
'Wal'r, my boy,' replied the Captain, 'in the Proverbs of Solomon you will find the following words, "May we never want a friend in need, nor a bottle to give him!" When found, make a note of.'
Here the Captain stretched out his hand to Walter, with an air of downright good faith that spoke volumes; at the same time repeating (for he felt proud of the accuracy and pointed application of his quotation), 'When found, make a note of.'
'Captain Cuttle,' said Walter, taking the immense fist extended to him by the Captain in both his hands, which it completely filled, next to my Uncle Sol, I love you. There is no one on earth in whom I can more safely trust, I am sure. As to the mere going away, Captain Cuttle, I don't care for that; why should I care for that! If I were free to seek my own fortune - if I were free to go as a common sailor - if I were free to venture on my own account to the farthest end of the world - I would gladly go! I would have gladly gone, years ago, and taken my chance of what might come of it. But it was against my Uncle's wishes, and against the plans he had formed for me; and there was an end of that. But what I feel, Captain Cuttle, is that we have been a little mistaken all along, and that, so far as any improvement in my prospects is concerned, I am no better off now than I was when I first entered Dombey's House - perhaps a little worse, for the House may have been kindly inclined towards me then, and it certainly is not now.'
'Turn again, Whittington,' muttered the disconsolate Captain, after looking at Walter for some time.
'Ay,' replied Walter, laughing, 'and turn a great many times, too, Captain Cuttle, I'm afraid, before such fortune as his ever turns up again. Not that I complain,' he added, in his lively, animated, energetic way. 'I have nothing to complain of. I am provided for. I can live. When I leave my Uncle, I leave him to you; and I can leave him to no one better, Captain Cuttle. I haven't told you all this because I despair, not I; it's to convince you that I can't pick and choose in Dombey's House, and that where I am sent, there I must go, and what I am offered, that I must take. It's better for my Uncle that I should be sent away; for Mr Dombey is a valuable friend to him, as he proved himself, you know when, Captain Cuttle; and I am persuaded he won't be less valuable when he hasn't me there, every day, to awaken his dislike. So hurrah for the West Indies, Captain Cuttle! How does that tune go that the sailors sing?
'For the Port of Barbados, Boys!
Cheerily!
Leaving old England behind us, Boys!
Cheerily!' Here the Captain roared in chorus -
'Oh cheerily, cheerily!
Oh cheer-i-ly!'
The last line reaching the quick ears of an ardent skipper not quite sober, who lodged opposite, and who instantly sprung out of bed, threw up his window, and joined in, across the street, at the top of his voice, produced a fine effect. When it was impossible to sustain the concluding note any longer, the skipper bellowed forth a terrific 'ahoy!' intended in part as a friendly greeting, and in part to show that he was not at all breathed. That done, he shut down his window, and went to bed again.
'And now, Captain Cuttle,' said Walter, handing him the blue coat and waistcoat, and bustling very much, 'if you'll come and break the news to Uncle Sol (which he ought to have known, days upon days ago, by rights), I'll leave you at the door, you know, and walk about until the afternoon.'
The Captain, however, scarcely appeared to relish the commission, or to be by any means confident of his powers of executing it. He had arranged the future life and adventures of Walter so very differently, and so entirely to his own satisfaction; he had felicitated himself so often on the sagacity and foresight displayed in that arrangement, and had found it so complete and perfect in all its parts; that to suffer it to go to pieces all at once, and even to assist in breaking it up, required a great effort of his resolution. The Captain, too, found it difficult to unload his old ideas upon the subject, and to take a perfectly new cargo on board, with that rapidity which the circumstances required, or without jumbling and confounding the two. Consequently, instead of putting on his coat and waistcoat with anything like the impetuosity that could alone have kept pace with Walter's mood, he declined to invest himself with those garments at all at present; and informed Walter that on such a serious matter, he must be allowed to 'bite his nails a bit'
'It's an old habit of mine, Wal'r,' said the Captain, 'any time these fifty year. When you see Ned Cuttle bite his nails, Wal'r, then you may know that Ned Cuttle's aground.'
Thereupon the Captain put his iron hook between his teeth, as if it were a hand; and with an air of wisdom and profundity that was the very concentration and sublimation of all philosophical reflection and grave inquiry, applied himself to the consideration of the subject in its various branches.
'There's a friend of mine,' murmured the Captain, in an absent manner, 'but he's at present coasting round to Whitby, that would deliver such an opinion on this subject, or any other that could be named, as would give Parliament six and beat 'em. Been knocked overboard, that man,' said the Captain, 'twice, and none the worse for it. Was beat in his apprenticeship, for three weeks (off and on), about the head with a ring-bolt. And yet a clearer-minded man don't walk.'
Despite of his respect for Captain Cuttle, Walter could not help inwardly rejoicing at the absence of this sage, and devoutly hoping that his limpid intellect might not be brought to bear on his difficulties until they were quite settled.
'If you was to take and show that man the buoy at the Nore,' said Captain Cuttle in the same tone, 'and ask him his opinion of it, Wal'r, he'd give you an opinion that was no more like that buoy than your Uncle's buttons are. There ain't a man that walks - certainly not on two legs - that can come near him. Not near him!'
'What's his name, Captain Cuttle?' inquired Walter, determined to be interested in the Captain's friend.
'His name's Bunsby, said the Captain. 'But Lord, it might be anything for the matter of that, with such a mind as his!'
The exact idea which the Captain attached to this concluding piece of praise, he did not further elucidate; neither did Walter seek to draw it forth. For on his beginning to review, with the vivacity natural to himself and to his situation, the leading points in his own affairs, he soon discovered that the Captain had relapsed into his former profound state of mind; and that while he eyed him steadfastly from beneath his bushy eyebrows, he evidently neither saw nor heard him, but remained immersed in cogitation.
In fact, Captain Cuttle was labouring with such great designs, that far from being aground, he soon got off into the deepest of water, and could find no bottom to his penetration. By degrees it became perfectly plain to the Captain that there was some mistake here; that it was undoubtedly much more likely to be Walter's mistake than his; that if there were really any West India scheme afoot, it was a very different one from what Walter, who was young and rash, supposed; and could only be some new device for making his fortune with unusual celerity. 'Or if there should be any little hitch between 'em,' thought the Captain, meaning between Walter and Mr Dombey, 'it only wants a word in season from a friend of both parties, to set it right and smooth, and make all taut again.' Captain Cuttle's deduction from these considerations was, that as he already enjoyed the pleasure of knowing Mr Dombey, from having spent a very agreeable half-hour in his company at Brighton (on the morning when they borrowed the money); and that, as a couple of men of the world, who understood each other, and were mutually disposed to make things comfortable, could easily arrange any little difficulty of this sort, and come at the real facts; the friendly thing for him to do would be, without saying anything about it to Walter at present, just to step up to Mr Dombey's house - say to the servant 'Would ye be so good, my lad, as report Cap'en Cuttle here?' - meet Mr Dombey in a confidential spirit- hook him by the button-hole - talk it over - make it all right - and come away triumphant!
As these reflections presented themselves to the Captain's mind, and by slow degrees assumed this shape and form, his visage cleared like a doubtful morning when it gives place to a bright noon. His eyebrows, which had been in the highest degree portentous, smoothed their rugged bristling aspect, and became serene; his eyes, which had been nearly closed in the severity of his mental exercise, opened freely; a smile which had been at first but three specks - one at the right-hand corner of his mouth, and one at the corner of each eye - gradually overspread his whole face, and, rippling up into his forehead, lifted the glazed hat: as if that too had been aground with Captain Cuttle, and were now, like him, happily afloat again.
Finally, the Captain left off biting his nails, and said, 'Now, Wal'r, my boy, you may help me on with them slops.' By which the Captain meant his coat and waistcoat.
Walter little imagined why the Captain was so particular in the arrangement of his cravat, as to twist the pendent ends into a sort of pigtail, and pass them through a massive gold ring with a picture of a tomb upon it, and a neat iron railing, and a tree, in memory of some deceased friend. Nor why the Captain pulled up his shirt-collar to the utmost limits allowed by the Irish linen below, and by so doing decorated himself with a complete pair of blinkers; nor why he changed his shoes, and put on an unparalleled pair of ankle-jacks, which he only wore on extraordinary occasions. The Captain being at length attired to his own complete satisfaction, and having glanced at himself from head to foot in a shaving-glass which he removed from a nail for that purpose, took up his knotted stick, and said he was ready.
The Captain's walk was more complacent than usual when they got out into the street; but this Walter supposed to be the effect of the ankle-jacks, and took little heed of. Before they had gone very far, they encountered a woman selling flowers; when the Captain stopping short, as if struck by a happy idea, made a purchase of the largest bundle in her basket: a most glorious nosegay, fan-shaped, some two feet and a half round, and composed of all the jolliest-looking flowers that blow.
Armed with this little token which he designed for Mr Dombey, Captain Cuttle walked on with Walter until they reached the Instrument-maker's door, before which they both paused.
'You're going in?' said Walter.
'Yes,' returned the Captain, who felt that Walter must be got rid of before he proceeded any further, and that he had better time his projected visit somewhat later in the day.
'And you won't forget anything?'
'No,' returned the Captain.
'I'll go upon my walk at once,' said Walter, 'and then I shall be out of the way, Captain Cuttle.'
'Take a good long 'un, my lad!' replied the Captain, calling after him. Walter waved his hand in assent, and went his way.
His way was nowhere in particular; but he thought he would go out into the fields, where he could reflect upon the unknown life before him, and resting under some tree, ponder quietly. He knew no better fields than those near Hampstead, and no better means of getting at them than by passing Mr Dombey's house.
It was as stately and as dark as ever, when he went by and glanced up at its frowning front. The blinds were all pulled down, but the upper windows stood wide open, and the pleasant air stirring those curtains and waving them to and fro was the only sign of animation in the whole exterior. Walter walked softly as he passed, and was glad when he had left the house a door or two behind.
He looked back then; with the interest he had always felt for the place since the adventure of the lost child, years ago; and looked especially at those upper windows. While he was thus engaged, a chariot drove to the door, and a portly gentleman in black, with a heavy watch-chain, alighted, and went in. When he afterwards remembered this gentleman and his equipage together, Walter had no doubt be was a physician; and then he wondered who was ill; but the discovery did not occur to him until he had walked some distance, thinking listlessly of other things.
Though still, of what the house had suggested to him; for Walter pleased hImself with thinking that perhaps the time might come, when the beautiful child who was his old friend and had always been so grateful to him and so glad to see him since, might interest her brother in his behalf and influence his fortunes for the better. He liked to imagine this - more, at that moment, for the pleasure of imagining her continued remembrance of him, than for any worldly profit he might gain: but another and more sober fancy whispered to him that if he were alive then, he would be beyond the sea and forgotten; she married, rich, proud, happy. There was no more reason why she should remember him with any interest in such an altered state of things, than any plaything she ever had. No, not so much.
Yet Walter so idealised the pretty child whom he had found wandering in the rough streets, and so identified her with her innocent gratitude of that night and the simplicity and truth of its expression, that he blushed for himself as a libeller when he argued that she could ever grow proud. On the other hand, his meditations were of that fantastic order that it seemed hardly less libellous in him to imagine her grown a woman: to think of her as anything but the same artless, gentle, winning little creature, that she had been in the days of Good Mrs Brown. In a word, Walter found out that to reason with himself about Florence at all, was to become very unreasonable indeed; and that he could do no better than preserve her image in his mind as something precious, unattainable, unchangeable, and indefinite - indefinite in all but its power of giving him pleasure, and restraining him like an angel's hand from anything unworthy.
It was a long stroll in the fields that Walter took that day, listening to the birds, and the Sunday bells, and the softened murmur of the town - breathing sweet scents; glancing sometimes at the dim horizon beyond which his voyage and his place of destination lay; then looking round on the green English grass and the home landscape. But he hardly once thought, even of going away, distinctly; and seemed to put off reflection idly, from hour to hour, and from minute to minute, while he yet went on reflecting all the time.
Walter had left the fields behind him, and was plodding homeward in the same abstracted mood, when he heard a shout from a man, and then a woman's voice calling to him loudly by name. Turning quickly in his surprise, he saw that a hackney-coach, going in the contrary direction, had stopped at no great distance; that the coachman was looking back from his box and making signals to him with his whip; and that a young woman inside was leaning out of the window, and beckoning with immense energy. Running up to this coach, he found that the young woman was Miss Nipper, and that Miss Nipper was in such a flutter as to be almost beside herself.
'Staggs's Gardens, Mr Walter!' said Miss Nipper; 'if you please, oh do!'
'Eh?' cried Walter; 'what is the matter?'
'Oh, Mr Walter, Staggs's Gardens, if you please!' said Susan.
'There!' cried the coachman, appealing to Walter, with a sort of exalting despair; 'that's the way the young lady's been a goin' on for up'ards of a mortal hour, and me continivally backing out of no thoroughfares, where she would drive up. I've had a many fares in this coach, first and last, but never such a fare as her.'
'Do you want to go to Staggs's Gardens, Susan?' inquired Walter.
'Ah! She wants to go there! WHERE IS IT?' growled the coachman.
'I don't know where it is!' exclaimed Susan, wildly. 'Mr Walter, I was there once myself, along with Miss Floy and our poor darling Master Paul, on the very day when you found Miss Floy in the City, for we lost her coming home, Mrs Richards and me, and a mad bull, and Mrs Richards's eldest, and though I went there afterwards, I can't remember where it is, I think it's sunk into the ground. Oh, Mr Walter, don't desert me, Staggs's Gardens, if you please! Miss Floy's darling - all our darlings - little, meek, meek Master Paul! Oh Mr Walter!'
'Good God!' cried Walter. 'Is he very ill?'
'The pretty flower!' cried Susan, wringing her hands, 'has took the fancy that he'd like to see his old nurse, and I've come to bring her to his bedside, Mrs Staggs, of Polly Toodle's Gardens, someone pray!'
Greatly moved by what he heard, and catching Susan's earnestness immediately, Walter, now that he understood the nature of her errand, dashed into it with such ardour that the coachman had enough to do to follow closely as he ran before, inquiring here and there and everywhere, the way to Staggs's Gardens.
There was no such place as Staggs's Gardens. It had vanished from the earth. Where the old rotten summer-houses once had stood, palaces now reared their heads, and granite columns of gigantic girth opened a vista to the railway world beyond. The miserable waste ground, where the refuse-matter had been heaped of yore, was swallowed up and gone; and in its frowsy stead were tiers of warehouses, crammed with rich goods and costly merchandise. The old by-streets now swarmed with passengers and vehicles of every kind: the new streets that had stopped disheartened in the mud and waggon-ruts, formed towns within themselves, originating wholesome comforts and conveniences belonging to themselves, and never tried nor thought of until they sprung into existence. Bridges that had led to nothing, led to villas, gardens, churches, healthy public walks. The carcasses of houses, and beginnings of new thoroughfares, had started off upon the line at steam's own speed, and shot away into the country in a monster train.'
As to the neighbourhood which had hesitated to acknowledge the railroad in its straggling days, that had grown wise and penitent, as any Christian might in such a case, and now boasted of its powerful and prosperous relation. There were railway patterns in its drapers' shops, and railway journals in the windows of its newsmen. There were railway hotels, office-houses, lodging-houses, boarding-houses; railway plans, maps, views, wrappers, bottles, sandwich-boxes, and time-tables; railway hackney-coach and stands; railway omnibuses, railway streets and buildings, railway hangers-on and parasites, and flatterers out of all calculation. There was even railway time observed in clocks, as if the sun itself had given in. Among the vanquished was the master chimney-sweeper, whilom incredulous at Staggs's Gardens, who now lived in a stuccoed house three stories high, and gave himself out, with golden flourishes upon a varnished board, as contractor for the cleansing of railway chimneys by machinery.
To and from the heart of this great change, all day and night, throbbing currents rushed and returned incessantly like its life's blood. Crowds of people and mountains of goods, departing and arriving scores upon scores of times in every four-and-twenty hours, produced a fermentation in the place that was always in action. The very houses seemed disposed to pack up and take trips. Wonderful Members of Parliament, who, little more than twenty years before, had made themselves merry with the wild railroad theories of engineers, and given them the liveliest rubs in cross-examination, went down into the north with their watches in their hands, and sent on messages before by the electric telegraph, to say that they were coming. Night and day the conquering engines rumbled at their distant work, or, advancing smoothly to their journey's end, and gliding like tame dragons into the allotted corners grooved out to the inch for their reception, stood bubbling and trembling there, making the walls quake, as if they were dilating with the secret knowledge of great powers yet unsuspected in them, and strong purposes not yet achieved.
But Staggs's Gardens had been cut up root and branch. Oh woe the day when 'not a rood of English ground' - laid out in Staggs's Gardens - is secure!
At last, after much fruitless inquiry, Walter, followed by the coach and Susan, found a man who had once resided in that vanished land, and who was no other than the master sweep before referred to, grown stout, and knocking a double knock at his own door. He knowed Toodle, he said, well. Belonged to the Railroad, didn't he?
'Yes' sir, yes!' cried Susan Nipper from the coach window.
Where did he live now? hastily inquired Walter.
He lived in the Company's own Buildings, second turning to the right, down the yard, cross over, and take the second on the right again. It was number eleven; they couldn't mistake it; but if they did, they had only to ask for Toodle, Engine Fireman, and any one would show them which was his house. At this unexpected stroke of success Susan Nipper dismounted from the coach with all speed, took Walter's arm, and set off at a breathless pace on foot; leaving the coach there to await their return.
'Has the little boy been long ill, Susan?' inquired Walter, as they hurried on.
'Ailing for a deal of time, but no one knew how much,' said Susan; adding, with excessive sharpness, 'Oh, them Blimbers!'
'Blimbers?' echoed Walter.
'I couldn't forgive myself at such a time as this, Mr Walter,' said Susan, 'and when there's so much serious distress to think about, if I rested hard on anyone, especially on them that little darling Paul speaks well of, but I may wish that the family was set to work in a stony soil to make new roads, and that Miss Blimber went in front, and had the pickaxe!'
Miss Nipper then took breath, and went on faster than before, as if this extraordinary aspiration had relieved her. Walter, who had by this time no breath of his own to spare, hurried along without asking any more questions; and they soon, in their impatience, burst in at a little door and came into a clean parlour full of children.
'Where's Mrs Richards?' exclaimed Susan Nipper, looking round. 'Oh Mrs Richards, Mrs Richards, come along with me, my dear creetur!'
'Why, if it ain't Susan!' cried Polly, rising with her honest face and motherly figure from among the group, in great surprIse.
'Yes, Mrs Richards, it's me,' said Susan, 'and I wish it wasn't, though I may not seem to flatter when I say so, but little Master Paul is very ill, and told his Pa today that he would like to see the face of his old nurse, and him and Miss Floy hope you'll come along with me - and Mr Walter, Mrs Richards - forgetting what is past, and do a kindness to the sweet dear that is withering away. Oh, Mrs Richards, withering away!' Susan Nipper crying, Polly shed tears to see her, and to hear what she had said; and all the children gathered round (including numbers of new babies); and Mr Toodle, who had just come home from Birmingham, and was eating his dinner out of a basin, laid down his knife and fork, and put on his wife's bonnet and shawl for her, which were hanging up behind the door; then tapped her on the back; and said, with more fatherly feeling than eloquence, 'Polly! cut away!'
So they got back to the coach, long before the coachman expected them; and Walter, putting Susan and Mrs Richards inside, took his seat on the box himself that there might be no more mistakes, and deposited them safely in the hall of Mr Dombey's house - where, by the bye, he saw a mighty nosegay lying, which reminded him of the one Captain Cuttle had purchased in his company that morning. He would have lingered to know more of the young invalid, or waited any length of time to see if he could render the least service; but, painfully sensible that such conduct would be looked upon by Mr Dombey as presumptuous and forward, he turned slowly, sadly, anxiously, away.
He had not gone five minutes' walk from the door, when a man came running after him, and begged him to return. Walter retraced his steps as quickly as he could, and entered the gloomy house with a sorrowful foreboding.

沃尔特好几天打不定主意,去巴巴多斯的事情该怎么办;甚至他还怀着几分微弱的希望:董贝先生也许说话并不当真,或者他也可能会改变主意,通知他不去了;可是他这种想法本身就是极不可能的,能证实这种想法的任何迹象也没有出现,而时间又在消逝,他不能再延误下去了,所以他觉得必须毫不迟疑地采取行动。
沃尔特的主要困难在于怎样把他工作的变动情况透露给所尔舅舅;他知道这对他是一个可怕的打击。他感到尤其困难的是说出这个惊人的消息来摧毁所尔舅舅的情绪,因为老人最近情绪有了很大好转,有说有笑,小后客厅又恢复了往日欢乐的气氛。所尔舅舅已经把第一批债款归还给董贝先生,并满怀希望,能设法把其余的欠债还清。当他勇敢地从艰难中振作起来的时候,重新让他垂头丧气,这真是一件令人痛苦、迫不得已的事情。
然而决不能背着他悄悄地溜走。应当事先让他知道这件事。问题是怎样告诉他。至于去或不去,沃尔特认为他丝毫没有选择的权力。董贝先生明白无误地跟他说过,他年轻,舅舅的境况又不好;董贝先生还在伴随的眼光中清楚地提醒他,如果他拒绝去的话,那么他可以待在家中,但却不能待在他的办公室里。他舅舅和他都欠董贝先生的恩情;这份恩情还是沃尔特亲自去恳求来的。他也许已开始暗暗感到,他永远没有希望博得那位先生的好感,他也许还想到,董贝先生还不时藐视他,而那是很不公正的。可是不论情况是否这样,职责毕竟是职责,而职责是必须履行的,沃尔特心里这样想。
当董贝先生看着他,跟他说,他年轻,他舅舅的境况又不好的时候,脸上曾经流露出一种轻蔑的神色,傲慢不恭地、对他贬损地认为,他乐意游手好闲地依靠一个穷困没落的老头子过活;这一点刺痛了这个孩子高尚的心灵。沃尔特决定不用言语表白,而尽可能使董贝先生相信,他确实把他的品格看错了,所以在那次有关去西印度群岛的谈话之后,他急切地表现出比先前更加愉快和活跃,就像一个像他那样机灵、热心的孩子所能表现的。他太年轻,太缺乏经验,没有想到,他这种性格本身就可能使董贝先生不喜欢;董贝先生强烈的不高兴不论是正确的还是错误的,反正在它那阴影之下,这孩子表现出应变自如,有希望依然快快活活的样子,是决不会使他产生好印象的。相反倒很可能,在那位大人物看来,这颗诚实的心灵的这种新的表露是对他的公然反抗,因此他决意把它压下去。
“唉!最终反正总得告诉所尔舅舅的,”沃尔特叹了一口气,想道。沃尔特担心的是,如果由他本人告诉老人,并看到这消息在他起了皱纹的脸上所引起的第一阵反应的话,那么他的声音也许会稍稍颤抖,他脸上的神色也许不能像他所希望的那样轻松愉快,因此他决定去请卡特尔船长这位能干的斡旋者来帮忙。于是,星期天吃过早饭以后,他就从家里出发,再一次出其不意地到卡特尔船长的住所去。
他在途中愉快地记起,麦克斯廷杰太太每逢星期天上午都要到一个很远的地方去听梅尔奇斯代克•豪洛尔大师说教。这位大师原先在西印度船坞工作,后来由于仇人诬陷,说他曾用手锥钻破大酒桶,然后把嘴唇贴住洞孔偷喝桶中的酒,因此有一天他就被解除了职务;他曾经宣称,世界将在两年后的那一天上午十点钟毁灭;他开放一个客厅来接待狂热教派①的男女信徒们;在他们第一次的集会上,梅尔奇斯代克的训戒产生了很大的影响,在仪式结束时,他们欢天喜地地大跳圣舞,所以有的人竟都塌陷到下面的厨房里,把一个信徒的碾压机也砸坏了。
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①狂热教派:早期美以美教派中大声祈祷或说教的教派。
这些轶事是船长那天晚上把钱支付给经纪人布罗格里之后,反复唱那支《佩格姑娘》曲子的中间,在非常欢乐的时刻讲给沃尔特和他舅舅听的。船长自己也按时上一个邻近的教堂去。那教堂每逢星期天上午就升起英国国旗。因为教区事务员身体病弱,他就在那里好心地照管孩子们;由于他那神秘的钩子所起的作用,他在孩子们中间享有很高的威望。沃尔特知道船长从不改变他的习惯,所以尽快赶路,以便在他出门之前到达。他的速度很快,当他拐弯走进布里格广场的时候,他高兴地看到,那宽大的蓝色外衣和背心正悬挂在船长的打开的窗子的外面,在太阳下晾晒。
凡人的肉眼居然能看到外衣和背心离开船长的身体,这似乎是难以使人相信的;但他这时确实没有穿它们,否则他的双腿就堵塞住那毫无遮拦的临街的前门了,因为布里格广场的房屋是不高的。沃尔特对这发现很感惊奇,敲了一下门。
“斯廷杰,”他清楚地听到船长在楼上的房间里说道,仿佛敲门声跟他不相干似的,所以沃尔特就敲了两下。
“卡特尔,”他听到船长应答了一声,不一会儿,船长穿着干净的衬衣,裤上吊着干净的背带,围巾像一卷绳子一样松松地挂在脖子周围,头上戴着上了光的帽子,出现在窗口,在宽大的蓝色外衣和背心上方探出身来。
“沃尔,”船长惊奇地朝下看着他,喊道。
“是的,是的,卡特尔船长,”沃尔特回答道,“只是我一个人。”
“出了什么事了,我的孩子?”船长十分忧虑地问道,“吉尔斯是不是又有什么不幸了?”
“没有,没有,”沃尔特回答道,“舅舅很好,卡特尔船长。”
船长表示高兴,说他就下来开门。他这样做了。
“不过你来得很早,沃尔,”他们上楼之后,船长仍然怀疑地看着他,说道。
“啊,事情是这样,卡特尔船长,”沃尔特坐下说道,“我怕您会出去,而我想请您帮帮忙,像朋友般地给我出出主意。”
“行啊,”船长说道,“你想要什么呢?”
“我想要您的意见,”沃尔特笑嘻嘻地说道,“我只要这个。”
“那就往下说吧,”船长说道,“打起精神来,我的孩子!”
沃尔特向他叙述了发生的事情,叙述了他感到关于舅舅的困难,叙述了如果卡特尔船长能好意地帮助他克服困难的话,那么这对他来说将会是如释重负。卡特尔船长对展现在面前的未来的情景感到无限的震惊与慌张,这种惊愕的情绪逐渐地把他吞没,因此他的脸上失去了任何表情,连那蓝色的衣服、上了光的帽子和那只钩子也像失去了主人似的。
“您知道,卡特尔船长,”沃尔特继续说道,“就我自己来说,正如董贝先生所说的,我年轻,不需要考虑我。我明白,我得在这世界上给自己打出条道路来。但是在来这里的路上,我想,关于舅舅,我必须特别考虑到两点。我不是想说,我当之无愧是他生活的乐趣和他引以自豪的人——请您相信,我明白这一点——,但事实上我又确实是那样的。您说呢,难道您认为我不是吗?”
船长似乎竭力想从他震惊的深渊中挣扎起来,恢复脸上的表情,但却徒劳无益;那上了光的帽子只是默默无声地、带着难以表达的含意点了一下头。
“如果我活着,身体健康,”沃尔特说道,“这一点我倒并不担心,但是尽管这样,要是我离开了英国,我就很难希望再见到舅舅了。他已经老了,卡特尔船长;再说,他是按照习惯生活的——”
“停一下,沃尔!是不是没有顾客?①”船长突然恢复了原来的神态,问道。
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①英文custom的一个意义是习惯,另一个意义是顾客。沃尔特说的是习惯,船长误会为顾客。
“完全正确,”沃尔特点点头,回答道,“不过我想说的是,他是按照平时的习惯生活的,卡特尔船长,我说的是这个意思。如果说(就像您正确地指出的那样),他失去了存货和他这么多年已经习惯了的所有物品,他就会早死,那么,难道您认为他不会死得更早一些吗,如果他失去了——”
“他的外甥,”船长插嘴道,“说得对!”
“所以说,”沃尔特想法说得高兴一些,“我们必须尽最大的努力让他相信,这次离别毕竟只不过是一次短暂的离别;但是因为我更了解真情,或者说我担心我更了解真情,而且因为我有许许多多的理由要以热爱、孝顺与尊敬的感情来对待他,因此我害怕,如果由我想方设法来说服他的话,那么,我会把事情弄得十分糟糕的,这就是为什么我希望由您来告诉他的主要理由,这是第一点。”
“把方位拨过一点!”①船长用沉思的声音说道。
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①由于沃尔特讲了一点、二点,引起船长讲了一句航海用语。
“您说什么,卡特尔船长?”沃尔特问道。
“做好准备!”船长若有所思地回答道。
沃尔特停了一下,想听听船长是不是还要再补充一些意见,但是船长没有再讲什么,沃尔特就继续说下去。
“现在讲第二点,卡特尔船长。我很遗憾地告诉您,我不是董贝先生所喜爱的人。我一直来总是想方设法,作出我最大的努力,我也确实总是这样做的,可是他却不喜欢我。也许他不能左右自己的喜爱与厌恶,这一点我也不想说什么。我只是说,我敢肯定他不喜欢我。他派我到那里去,并不是因为那是个好差使;他不想把事情说得比实际好一些,他不屑于这样做;我不相信这次调动会帮助我在公司里晋升职位;相反的,我怀疑是不是要用这个办法把我永远打发掉,以便扫除障碍。可是这些话我们一句也别跟舅舅说,卡特尔船长,我们一定得尽量把这次派遣说成是一个有利的、前程远大的差使;我向您吐露真情,只是为了我在远方万一需要帮助的时候,在祖国能有一个知道我真实情况的朋友。”
“沃尔,我的孩子,”船长回答道,“在所罗门箴言中,你可以找到下面的话:‘让我们永远不缺少患难中的朋友,也不缺少送给他喝的酒!’你找到的时候,请把它记下来。”
这时船长以胜过千言万语的坦白真诚的神情,向沃尔特伸出手来;由于他对准确引用所罗门箴言和运用得当而感到得意,所以又重复说道:“你找到的时候,请把它记下来。”
“卡特尔船长,”沃尔特把船长伸出的大拳头满满地握在两只手中说,“除了所尔舅舅,您是我最爱的人。确实,在这世界上我没有更能信赖的人了。单单就离别这件事情本身来说,卡特尔船长,我并不把它放在心上;我为什么要把它放在心上呢!如果我可以自由地去寻找运气的话,如果我可以当一名普通的船员出去的话,如果我可以自由地自己承担风险,航行到天涯海角的话,那么我将高高兴兴地出去!我可能几年前就已经高高兴兴地出去碰碰我的运气如何了。但是这违背我舅舅的愿望,违背他为我所制订的计划,所以事情也就到此完结了。但是,卡特尔船长,我觉得我们过去有一些错误;就改善我的前途来说,我现在出去并不比当初一进董贝公司的时候就出去更好,也许还更坏一些,因为当时公司可能对我怀有好感,现在则肯定没有了。”
“回来吧,惠廷顿,”闷闷不乐的船长向沃尔特看了一些时候之后,低声说道。
“好的,”沃尔特哈哈大笑地回答道,“我担心,卡特尔船长,在像他那样的运气来到之前我就回来好多次了。并不是我要抱怨,”他活泼愉快、生气蓬勃、精神饱满地补充说道,“我没有什么要抱怨的。我丰衣足食,我能活下去。当我离开舅舅的时候,我把他交给您。我不能把他交给更好的人了,卡特尔船长。我跟您讲这一切,并不是因为我悲观失望。不,我不会的。我只是让您相信,我在董贝公司里对工作安排不能挑挑拣拣;派我到哪里去我就得到哪里去;向我建议什么,我就得接受什么。我被派出去对舅舅来说反倒更好,因为董贝先生是他尊贵的朋友,就像他过去实际所表明的那样,这一点您很清楚,卡特尔船长。我深信,如果我不在公司里天天引起他的厌恶的话,那么他还会像过去一样继续是他尊贵的朋友。所以说,西印度群岛万岁,卡特尔船长!船员们的那支歌是怎么唱的?”
“兴高采烈地,向着巴巴多斯港口前进吧,小伙子们!兴高采烈地,把古老的英国抛在后面吧,小伙子们!”
这时船长大声地参加合唱道:“啊,兴高采烈地,兴高采烈地!啊,兴高——采烈地!”
对面屋子里住着一位热心的小商船的船长,当最后一行歌词传到他灵敏的耳朵里时,他醉意未消,没有完全清醒过来,但却立刻从床上跳起来,打开窗子,放开嗓门,越过街道,参加合唱,产生了优美的效果。当他不能把最后的音调再支撑着唱下去的时候,他可怕地大叫了一声:“啊嗬!”,一方面是作为友好的问候,另一方面是想表示他还没有歇过一口气。然后,他关上窗子,重新躺到床上睡觉。
“现在,卡特尔船长,”沃尔特把蓝色的外衣和背心递给他,手脚十分忙乱地说,“如果您把这个消息去透露给所尔舅舅(按理说,他本来好几天以前就该知道它了),那么,到了我家门口,您知道,我就将跟您分手,在附近一带溜达溜达,直到下午。”
可是船长看来丝毫也不高兴接受这个任务,要不就是对他完成这个任务的能力完全没有信心。他曾经给沃尔特未来的生活与事业作过截然不同的安排,并对它感到完全称心满意;他对他在这个安排中所表现出的明智与预见性时常沾沾自喜,觉得这个安排的各个方面都完美无缺,因此现在要让这个安排在顷刻之间土崩瓦解,甚至还要帮助去破坏它,这需要他的意志作出很大的努力才行。船长还觉得要把他对这个问题的老想法从头脑中去掉,迅速换上全新的想法,就像要按照情势所要求的火急速度,把船上的老货物卸下,装上一批全新的货物,而又不把两批货物混杂、弄乱一样困难。因此,他没有跟沃尔特的心情合拍,急匆匆地穿上外衣和背心,而是拒绝现在就把这些衣服套在身上;他告诉沃尔特,这样重大的事情,应该允许他“咬一下指甲”。
“这是我的老习惯,沃尔,”船长说,“已经有五十年了。当你看到内德•卡特尔在咬指甲,那么,沃尔,你就可以知道,内德•卡特尔搁浅了。”
于是,船长把铁钩插在牙齿中间,仿佛那是一只手似的,同时露出富于智慧和思想深刻的神态,聚精会神地思考着这个问题的各个方面;他那智慧与深刻的思想是哲学的思考与认真的研究所集中与升华的结果。
“我有一位朋友,”船长神情恍惚地低声说道,“他会对这个问题以及其他任何问题发表意见;他曾把六比一的有利条件让给议会①,来和议会就某个问题打赌,结果他仍能胜过他们;可是他现在正沿着惠特比②岸边航行。”船长继续说下去,“这个人曾经两次从船上被冲打到水里,但却安然无恙,丝毫不受影响。他当学徒的时候,头上曾经被环端螺栓刺扎,断断续续的加起来有三个星期之久,可是在世界上仍找不到头脑比他更聪明的人。”
沃尔特虽然尊敬卡特尔船长,但却不由得由于这位聪明人不在而暗暗高兴;他衷心希望,在他的困难妥善解决之前,他的大智大慧不要用来处理它们。
“如果你把诺尔③的一个浮标给他看,”卡特尔船长用同样的声调说道,“请他谈谈他对它的看法的话,沃尔,那么他会说出一个跟浮标毫无关系的看法,就像你舅舅的钮扣跟浮标毫无关系一样。世界上没有一个人——至少是没有一个靠•两•条腿走路的人——能比得上他。没有能比得上他的!”
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①即如议会胜了,他赔六份;如他胜了,他得一份。
②惠特比(Whitby):英格兰北约克郡的一个城镇,濒临北海,地处埃斯克(Esk)河口港湾东侧。
③诺尔(theNore):英格兰肯特郡泰晤士河口湾一段沙滩。
“他姓什么,卡特尔船长?”沃尔特问道,他决定对船长的朋友发生兴趣。
“他姓邦斯贝,”船长说道,“可是我的天主!其实,像他那样头脑的人,你管他姓什么都可以!”
船长没有进一步阐明最后一句赞语的确切含意,沃尔特也没有对它寻根究底。因为当他有声有色地(就他和他的处境来说,这是很自然的)重新叙述他的主要困难时,他立刻发现船长又重新陷入先前那深思远虑的状态中。虽然他从浓密的眉毛下一动不动地凝视着他,可是他显然并没有看见他,也没有听见他说话,而是沉浸在思考之中。
实际上,卡特尔船长正在拟订宏伟的计划;他根本没有搁浅,而是很快就进入水的最深处,而且无法探找到他要穿透的底层。船长逐渐地完全看清了事情的原委:这里存在着一些误会,毫无疑问,这很可能是沃尔特而不是他所产生的误会。如果真有什么西印度群岛计划将讨诸实施的话,那么它也跟年轻、性急的沃尔特所设想的大不相同;它只能是使他飞黄腾达的一种新安排。船长心里想,“或者如果在他们之间(他是指在沃尔特与董贝先生之间)有点什么小小的疙瘩的话,那么只消双方的老朋友适时地说上一句话,那就可以完全解开,大家就会重新和好如初,就像把两条钩住的船调理顺当一样。”卡特尔船长从这些考虑中得出的想法是,由于他已经有幸认识董贝先生,在他们借钱的那个上午,曾经在布赖顿和他在一起很愉快地消度了半个小时;再说他们既然都是上流社会的人,而且相互了解,愿意把事情处理得和顺得当,那样就会很容易解决这样一类小小的困难,弄清事实真相;因此,他应尽的朋友之谊就是:现在什么话也不对沃尔特说,而是直接走到董贝先生的公馆,对仆人说,“老弟,劳驾您通报一下,卡特尔船长到这里来了。”然后在极为信任的气氛中会见董贝先生——钩住他的钮扣孔——,交谈一切,把事情处理得完善妥贴,然后得意扬扬地离开!
当这些想法出现在船长心中,逐渐成形的时候,他的脸色开朗起来,就像阴云密布的早晨退让给阳光灿烂的中午一样。他的眉毛原先极为不祥地紧皱着,现在不再直直地竖立,而是舒展开来,安祥平静;他的眼睛原先在紧张的思想活动过程中几乎已经闭上了,现在则随意地张开;他的微笑最初只出现在三小点——嘴的右角和两只眼角——,现在逐渐扩展到整个脸庞,向上波送到前额,掀起了那顶上了光的帽子;这帽子原先仿佛跟卡特尔船长一样搁了浅,现在则又跟他一样,愉快地漂浮起来了。
船长终于不再咬指甲,说:“现在,沃尔特,我的孩子,你帮我穿上衣服吧!”船长指的是他的外衣和背心。
沃尔特想不出,船长系领带为什么会那么用心,他把垂下的两端拧成像辫子一样的东西,然后穿进一个大金戒指中,戒指上刻着一幅图画,画中有一座坟墓、一条洁净的铁栏杆和一株树,它是纪念某个死去的朋友的。沃尔特也想不出船长为什么把衬衫领子使劲往上拉,拉到下面的爱尔兰亚麻布衬衫所许可的最大限度,这样一来他看上去就有了一副完好的遮眼罩来装饰自己了。沃尔特也想不出,船长为什么脱下鞋子,换上那双世上无双的短靴,那是他在不寻常的场合才穿的。船长终于穿着完毕,自己完全感到称心满意;他从墙钉上取下一面修脸用的镜子,从头到脚把自己打量了一番,然后拿起他那根多节的手杖说,他已经准备好了。
当他们走上街道的时候,船长的步态比往常显得更加踌躇满志,但沃尔特以为那是由于短靴的作用,对它并不注意。他们没走多远,遇到一位卖花的女人,船长突然停下脚步,仿佛心血来潮,闪出一个巧妙主意似的;他把她篮子里最大的一束花买下来,那是一个极为光彩夺目、芳香四溢的花束,形状像扇子,周围约有两英尺半,全都由最鲜艳的花朵组成。
卡特尔船长准备了这份打算送给董贝先生的礼品之后,跟沃尔特继续向前走去,直到他们到达仪器制造商门前,两人才都停下脚步。
“您就进去吗?”沃尔特问道。
“是的,”船长答道。他觉得在采取下一步行动之前必须首先把沃尔特打发走,他打算进行的拜访最好推迟到当天晚一些时候。
“您不会忘记什么吗?”沃尔特问道。
“不会,”船长回答。
“我马上就去溜达,”沃尔特说道,“我不妨碍您了,卡特尔船长。”
“好好地多逛一逛,我的孩子!”般长在他身后大声喊道。
沃尔特挥挥手,表示同意,接着就继续向前走去。
他没有特定的地方要去;但他想到田野里去走走,他在那里可以考虑考虑将来未知的生活,可以在树下一边休息一边安静地思索。他觉得汉姆普斯特德①附近的风光最美,而通向那里最好的道路是从董贝先生公馆旁边经过的。
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①汉姆普斯特德(Hampstead):伦敦郊区地方。
当沃尔特从董贝先生的公馆旁边走过,向上望一眼,看到它那愁眉不展的正面的时候,它跟往常一样庄严、阴暗。所有的窗帘都已垂下,但上面的窗子是敞开着的,凉爽的微风吹拂着窗帘来回飘动,这是整座房屋外部唯一带有生气的迹象。沃尔特轻轻地走过,当他又走过几家人家的时候,他心里觉得高兴。
自从几年前发生了迷路的女孩子的事情以后,他经常对这房屋感到兴趣,这时他正是怀着这样的兴趣往回看,特别是望着上面一层的窗子。当他正这样看着的时候,一辆轻便四轮马车来到门前,一位举止庄重、穿着黑衣服、挂着一条沉甸甸的表链子的先生下了马车,走进屋里去。沃尔特后来回忆起这位先生和他的马车,他毫无疑问那人是位医生,于是心中纳闷起来,究竟是谁病了呢?可是他没有得出答案。他无精打采地想着其他事情,又走了一段距离。
不过他仍然想到这座房屋对他意味着什么,因为沃尔特总是爱以这样的希望来使自己高兴,那就是:也许总有那么一天,那位女孩子(她是他的老朋友,从那时以来,总是那样感谢他,那样高兴看到他)会使她弟弟关心他,使他的命运好转。但是在这时候他更喜欢想到的是,她仍继续记得他,而不是他可能得到什么世俗的利益;可是另一个更为清醒的想法在他耳边低声说道,如果那时候他还活着的话,那么他将在海外漂泊,被她遗忘;她则已经成婚,富有,高傲,幸福。世事沧桑,在完全改变了的情况下,她没有什么理由要比对一个她曾经有过的玩具更多地记得他;不会的,那时在她的记忆中,他可能还不如玩具呢。
可是沃尔特把那位流落在喧闹的街上、被他找到的那位漂亮的女孩子理想化了,把她与她在那天夜里天真的感谢以及在感谢中所表现出的纯朴、真诚等同化了,所以他认为,把她想成今后会变得高傲,这是对她的侮辱,他为此而感到羞愧。另一方面,他的沉思默想又是那么荒诞无稽,在他看来,如果想像到她已成长为一个女人,如果不是把她想成她跟善良的布朗太太在一起时那样一位纯朴、温柔、可爱的小人儿,而是想成另外一位什么人的话,那么这也同样是对她的侮辱。总之,沃尔特觉得由他本人来评断弗洛伦斯的是非长短,确实是会很不近情理的;他最好是把她的形象作为宝贵的、难以达到的、永不改变的、模糊不清的一种什么东西保存在心中;它具有使他快乐,像一只天使的手一样制止他进行任何卑劣勾当的力量,这一点却不是模糊不清的。
沃尔特那天在田野里游逛得很久,他听着鸟儿的啾鸣、礼拜天的钟声、城市中比平日减弱了的喧嚣声,同时呼吸着芳香的空气,有时举目眺望那朦胧不清的地平线,因为他的航程与目的地就在地平线的那一方;然后他又环顾四周英国的青草和故乡的风景。可是他几乎没有一次明确地想到他即将远离;他似乎一小时又一小时,一分钟又一分钟地把这思想搁置一旁,不去理会,尽管他始终在继续不断地想着它。
沃尔特已经把田野抛在后面,正怀着同样恍惚的心情,拖着沉重的脚步往回家的路途上行走,这时候他听到一个男人喊叫了一声,接着一个女人的声音响亮地喊着他的名字。他惊奇地转过身去,看到一辆朝着相反方向跑去的出租轿式马车在不远的地方停了下来;马车夫从座位上转过头来看他,向他挥鞭示意;车里一位年轻的女人从窗子里探出身来,精力充沛地向他打招呼。他跑到马车跟前,看到这位年轻女人就是尼珀姑娘;她万分焦急不安,几乎都要发狂了。
“斯塔格斯花园,沃尔特先生!”尼珀姑娘说,“劳驾您,帮个忙吧!”
“什么?”沃尔特喊道,“出了什么事了?”
“啊,沃尔特先生!斯塔格斯花园,劳驾您!”苏珊说。
“您瞧!”马车夫以一种兴高采烈与灰心绝望交织的神情,向沃尔特恳求道,“这位姑娘已经反反复复地说了老半天,她想要去的地方路走不通,我正想把车子转过身来找条出路呢。
乘坐过我马车的客人可多啦,可我从没见过像她这样的乘客。”
“您想到斯塔格斯花园去吗,苏珊?”沃尔特问道。
“对啦!她想到那里去。它在哪里?”马车夫抬高嗓门,粗声大气地说道。
“我不知道它在哪里!”苏珊疯狂似地大声说道,“沃尔特先生,我亲自到过那里一次,是带着弗洛伊小姐和我们可怜的、可爱的保罗少爷一起去的,就在您在城里找到弗洛伊小姐的那一天,因为在回来的路上我们把她丢了,理查兹大嫂和我,还有一条疯牛,还有理查兹大嫂的大儿子,虽然后来我去过那里,可是我却记不得它在哪里了,我想它已经塌陷到地底下去了。啊,沃尔特先生,别抛弃我不管,斯塔格斯花园,劳驾您!弗洛伊小姐最亲爱的宝贝——我们大家最亲爱的宝贝——、非常非常温顺的小保罗少爷啊!啊沃尔特先生!”
“慈善的上帝!”沃尔特喊道,“他病得很重吗?”“可爱的花朵儿!”苏珊绞扭着手哭道:“他一时想起想要看看他从前的奶妈,我就是来领她到他床边去去的,波利·图德尔花园的斯塔格斯大嫂,谁来帮帮忙啊!”
  沃尔特听了这番话大为感动,苏珊的焦急心情立刻传到他身上;他明白了她这次任务的性质,就满腔热情,火速地投身进去。当他跑在前面,这里那里到处打听通往斯塔格斯花园去的道路时,马车夫好不容易才紧紧跟上他。
  可是斯塔格斯花园这个地方已经不存在了,它已经从地面上消失了。古老、破烂的凉亭从前曾经所在的地方,如今宫殿耸立,显露峥嵘;围长粗大的花岗石柱子伸展开一片路景,通向外面的铁路世界。往昔堆积垃圾的污秽的荒地已经被吞没和消失了;过去霉臭难闻的场所现在出现了一排排堆满了贵重货物与高价商品的货栈。先前冷僻清静的街道,如今行人熙来攘往,各种车辆川流不息;原先在泥泞与车辙中令人灰心丧气、中断通行的地方,现在新的街道形成了自成体系的城镇,生产着各种有益于身心、使生活舒适方便的物品与设施,在这些物品与设施没有出现之前,一般的人们从没有进行过这种尝试或产生过这种念头的。原先不通向任何地方的桥梁,如今通向别墅、花园、教堂和有益于健康的公共散步场。房屋骨架和新的通道的初期预制品正装在火车这个怪物内,飞速地运往郊外。
  至于附近的居民,他们在铁路最初蜿蜒伸展的日子中还打不定主意是否承认它;后来像任何一位基督徒在这种情况下都可能表现的那样,变得聪明起来,翻然悔悟,现在都在夸耀这位强大、兴隆的亲戚。布店里织物上印有铁路图案,卖报人的橱窗中陈列着铁路杂志。这里有铁路旅馆,铁路办公楼,铁路公寓,铁路寄宿处;有铁路平面图,铁路地图,铁路风景画,铁路包装纸,铁路酒瓶,铁路三明治包装匣和铁路时刻表;有铁路出租马车和铁路出租马车停车处;有铁路公共汽车,铁路街道和铁路大楼;有铁路食客;铁路寄生虫和数不胜数的铁路马屁精。甚至还有钟表那样准的铁路时间,仿佛太阳它自己已经认输让步了似的。在被铁路征服的人们中间,有清扫烟囱的工长,这在过去在斯塔格斯花园中是难以令人置信的;如今他住在一座墁上灰泥的三层楼房中,在一块油漆招牌上用金色的花体字书写广告,自称是用机器清扫铁路烟囱的承包人了。
  滚滚翻腾的洪流像它的生命的血液一样,日日夜夜永不停息地流向这个变化巨大的心脏,又从这个心脏返流回去。成群结队的人们,如山似海的货物,每昼夜二十四小时几十次运出运进,在这个活动不息的地方起着发酵般的作用。甚至连房屋也好像喜欢给打包起来,外出旅行似的。奇妙绝伦的议员们二十年前对工程师们异想天开的铁路理论还曾冷嘲热讽,盘问时百般阻挠,现在却戴着手表乘车到北方去,事先还发出电报通知他们即将到达。所向无敌的机车日日夜夜在远方隆隆地前进,或者平稳地开向旅程终点,像驯服的龙一般滑向指定的、精确度按英寸计算的角落,站立在那里,吐着白沫,颤抖着,使墙壁都震动起来,仿佛它们充满了至今还没有被发现的巨大力量的知识以及至今还没有被达到的伟大目标似的。
  可是,斯塔格斯花园已经连根带枝被彻底铲除了,斯塔格斯花园所立足的英国土地没有一方是安然无恙的了。啊,请为这个日子哀叹吧!
  沃尔特身后跟随着马车和苏珊,他经过许多毫无结果的打听之后,终于遇见了一位曾经一度在这块消失了的土地上居住过的人;他不是别人,就是我们在前面提到过的烟囱清扫工工长;他身体壮实,正在自己的门上敲打了两下。他说,他很熟悉图德尔。“他在铁路上工作,是不是?”
  “是的,是的,先生!”苏珊·尼珀从马车窗口中喊道。
  “他现在住在哪里?”沃尔特急忙问道。
  他住在公司自己的楼房里,经过右边第二个拐弯,走到一个庭院里,穿过去,然后又往右边第二个拐弯走进去,第十一号,他们决不会弄错的。要是真的弄错了的话,他们只消问一下在机车上烧锅炉的火夫图德尔,任何人都会向他们指点他的家在哪里的。苏珊看到这意想不到的成功,急忙下了马车,挽着沃尔特的胳膊立刻就走,让马车停在那里等待他们回来。
  “小孩子病得很久了吗,苏珊?”当他们急忙往前走去的时候,沃尔特问道。
  “折磨好长久的时间了,可是谁也不知道病有多重,”苏珊回答道,接着又格外尖声厉气地说道,“唉!都怪布林伯他们这一家人!”
  “布林伯他们这一家人?”沃尔特重复了一句问道。
  “沃尔特先生,”苏珊说,“事到如此,当想起许许多多事情都是令人痛苦的时候,如果我责怪什么人,特别是责怪亲爱的小保罗一口称赞的那些人的话,那么我就无法原谅自己,可是我还是真心盼望把这一家人都派到那石头最多的地段去修筑新道路,让布林伯小姐扛着鹤嘴锄走在最前头!”
  尼珀姑娘说完之后喘了一口气,比先前走得更快,仿佛她这不同寻常的愿望使她的心情轻松了一些。沃尔特自己这时也是上气不接下气,不再问什么问题,匆匆忙忙地往前赶路。他们不久就急不可耐地从一个小门闯进去,来到了一个干净的、挤满了孩子的客厅里。
  “理查兹大嫂在哪里?”苏珊向四处张望着,大声喊道。
  “啊!理查兹大嫂,理查兹大嫂,跟我一道走吧,我亲爱的人儿!”
  “呀!这不是苏珊吗?”波利十分吃惊地喊道,一边从孩子群中站起身来,露出她那诚实的脸孔和慈母的身形。
  “是的,理查兹大嫂,是我,”苏珊说,“我真巴不得不是我才好呢,虽然我这么说似乎不太客气,可是小保罗少爷病得很重,他今天跟他爸爸说,他想看看他从前的奶妈的脸,他和弗洛伊小姐希望您能跟我一道去——还有沃尔特先生也一道走,理查兹大嫂——把过去的事情忘了吧,给可爱的小宝贝帮帮忙吧,他活不长了。啊,理查兹大嫂,他活不长了,就要离开人世了。”苏珊·尼珀哭着;波利流着眼泪看着她,听着她所说的话;所有的孩子们(包括一些新的婴孩)聚集在周围;图德尔先生刚刚从伯明翰回到家里,正从一个盆里取出饭菜吃着,这时他放下刀叉,把他妻子挂在门后的帽子和围巾取下给她穿戴上,然后拍拍她的后背,怀着深厚的父亲般的感情,但却不善于言辞地说道,“波利,走吧!”
  这样他们就回到了马车跟前,比车夫预料的时间早好多。沃尔特把苏珊和理查兹大嫂扶进马车以后,自己坐在马车夫的座位上,以防再发生什么差错;最后把他们安然无恙地送进了董贝先生公馆的前厅里。——顺便说一句,他在前厅里看到了一个很大的花束摆在那里,这使他想起了卡特尔船长那天早上跟他一道买下的那一束。他本很愿意在那里多逗留一些时候,好多了解一些病人的情况,或者就在那里一直等待着,看他能不能稍稍帮点儿忙;可是他痛苦地意识到,这会被董贝先生看作是一种冒昧的、唐突的行为;所以他就缓慢地、悲伤地、忧心忡忡地转身离开了。
  他走出门不到五分钟,就有一个人追赶上来,请他回去。他顺着原路尽快地走回去,并怀着悲哀的预感,走进了那阴沉的公馆。
  
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 16
What the Waves were always saying
Paul had never risen from his little bed. He lay there, listening to the noises in the street, quite tranquilly; not caring much how the time went, but watching it and watching everything about him with observing eyes.
When the sunbeams struck into his room through the rustling blinds, and quivered on the opposite wall like golden water, he knew that evening was coming on, and that the sky was red and beautiful. As the reflection died away, and a gloom went creeping up the wall, he watched it deepen, deepen, deepen, into night. Then he thought how the long streets were dotted with lamps, and how the peaceful stars were shining overhead. His fancy had a strange tendency to wander to the river, which he knew was flowing through the great city; and now he thought how black it was, and how deep it would look, reflecting the hosts of stars - and more than all, how steadily it rolled away to meet the sea.
As it grew later in the night, and footsteps in the street became so rare that he could hear them coming, count them as they passed, and lose them in the hollow distance, he would lie and watch the many-coloured ring about the candle, and wait patiently for day. His only trouble was, the swift and rapid river. He felt forced, sometimes, to try to stop it - to stem it with his childish hands - or choke its way with sand - and when he saw it coming on, resistless, he cried out! But a word from Florence, who was always at his side, restored him to himself; and leaning his poor head upon her breast, he told Floy of his dream, and smiled.
When day began to dawn again, he watched for the sun; and when its cheerful light began to sparkle in the room, he pictured to himself - pictured! he saw - the high church towers rising up into the morning sky, the town reviving, waking, starting into life once more, the river glistening as it rolled (but rolling fast as ever), and the country bright with dew. Familiar sounds and cries came by degrees into the street below; the servants in the house were roused and busy; faces looked in at the door, and voices asked his attendants softly how he was. Paul always answered for himself, 'I am better. I am a great deal better, thank you! Tell Papa so!'
By little and little, he got tired of the bustle of the day, the noise of carriages and carts, and people passing and repassing; and would fall asleep, or be troubled with a restless and uneasy sense again - the child could hardly tell whether this were in his sleeping or his waking moments - of that rushing river. 'Why, will it never stop, Floy?' he would sometimes ask her. 'It is bearing me away, I think!'
But Floy could always soothe and reassure him; and it was his daily delight to make her lay her head down on his pillow, and take some rest.
'You are always watching me, Floy, let me watch you, now!' They would prop him up with cushions in a corner of his bed, and there he would recline the while she lay beside him: bending forward oftentimes to kiss her, and whispering to those who were near that she was tired, and how she had sat up so many nights beside him.
Thus, the flush of the day, in its heat and light, would gradually decline; and again the golden water would be dancing on the wall.
He was visited by as many as three grave doctors - they used to assemble downstairs, and come up together - and the room was so quiet, and Paul was so observant of them (though he never asked of anybody what they said), that he even knew the difference in the sound of their watches. But his interest centred in Sir Parker Peps, who always took his seat on the side of the bed. For Paul had heard them say long ago, that that gentleman had been with his Mama when she clasped Florence in her arms, and died. And he could not forget it, now. He liked him for it. He was not afraid.
The people round him changed as unaccountably as on that first night at Doctor Blimber's - except Florence; Florence never changed - and what had been Sir Parker Peps, was now his father, sitting with his head upon his hand. Old Mrs Pipchin dozing in an easy chair, often changed to Miss Tox, or his aunt; and Paul was quite content to shut his eyes again, and see what happened next, without emotion. But this figure with its head upon its hand returned so often, and remained so long, and sat so still and solemn, never speaking, never being spoken to, and rarely lifting up its face, that Paul began to wonder languidly, if it were real; and in the night-time saw it sitting there, with fear.
'Floy!' he said. 'What is that?'
'Where, dearest?'
'There! at the bottom of the bed.'
'There's nothing there, except Papa!'
The figure lifted up its head, and rose, and coming to the bedside, said:
'My own boy! Don't you know me?'
Paul looked it in the face, and thought, was this his father? But the face so altered to his thinking, thrilled while he gazed, as if it were in pain; and before he could reach out both his hands to take it between them, and draw it towards him, the figure turned away quickly from the little bed, and went out at the door.
Paul looked at Florence with a fluttering heart, but he knew what she was going to say, and stopped her with his face against her lips. The next time he observed the figure sitting at the bottom of the bed, he called to it.
'Don't be sorry for me, dear Papa! Indeed I am quite happy!'
His father coming and bending down to him - which he did quickly, and without first pausing by the bedside - Paul held him round the neck, and repeated those words to him several times, and very earnestly; and Paul never saw him in his room again at any time, whether it were day or night, but he called out, 'Don't be sorry for me! Indeed I am quite happy!' This was the beginning of his always saying in the morning that he was a great deal better, and that they were to tell his father so.
How many times the golden water danced upon the wall; how many nights the dark, dark river rolled towards the sea in spite of him; Paul never counted, never sought to know. If their kindness, or his sense of it, could have increased, they were more kind, and he more grateful every day; but whether they were many days or few, appeared of little moment now, to the gentle boy.
One night he had been thinking of his mother, and her picture in the drawing-room downstairs, and thought she must have loved sweet Florence better than his father did, to have held her in her arms when she felt that she was dying - for even he, her brother, who had such dear love for her, could have no greater wish than that. The train of thought suggested to him to inquire if he had ever seen his mother? for he could not remember whether they had told him, yes or no, the river running very fast, and confusing his mind.
'Floy, did I ever see Mama?'
'No, darling, why?'
'Did I ever see any kind face, like Mama's, looking at me when I was a baby, Floy?'
He asked, incredulously, as if he had some vision of a face before him.
'Oh yes, dear!'
'Whose, Floy?'
'Your old nurse's. Often.'
'And where is my old nurse?' said Paul. 'Is she dead too? Floy, are we all dead, except you?'
There was a hurry in the room, for an instant - longer, perhaps; but it seemed no more - then all was still again; and Florence, with her face quite colourless, but smiling, held his head upon her arm. Her arm trembled very much.
'Show me that old nurse, Floy, if you please!'
'She is not here, darling. She shall come to-morrow.'
'Thank you, Floy!'
Paul closed his eyes with those words, and fell asleep. When he awoke, the sun was high, and the broad day was clear and He lay a little, looking at the windows, which were open, and the curtains rustling in the air, and waving to and fro: then he said, 'Floy, is it tomorrow? Is she come?'
Someone seemed to go in quest of her. Perhaps it was Susan. Paul thought he heard her telling him when he had closed his eyes again, that she would soon be back; but he did not open them to see. She kept her word - perhaps she had never been away - but the next thing that happened was a noise of footsteps on the stairs, and then Paul woke - woke mind and body - and sat upright in his bed. He saw them now about him. There was no grey mist before them, as there had been sometimes in the night. He knew them every one, and called them by their names.
'And who is this? Is this my old nurse?' said the child, regarding with a radiant smile, a figure coming in.
Yes, yes. No other stranger would have shed those tears at sight of him, and called him her dear boy, her pretty boy, her own poor blighted child. No other woman would have stooped down by his bed, and taken up his wasted hand, and put it to her lips and breast, as one who had some right to fondle it. No other woman would have so forgotten everybody there but him and Floy, and been so full of tenderness and pity.
'Floy! this is a kind good face!' said Paul. 'I am glad to see it again. Don't go away, old nurse! Stay here.'
His senses were all quickened, and he heard a name he knew.
'Who was that, who said "Walter"?' he asked, looking round. 'Someone said Walter. Is he here? I should like to see him very much.'
Nobody replied directly; but his father soon said to Susan, 'Call him back, then: let him come up!' Alter a short pause of expectation, during which he looked with smiling interest and wonder, on his nurse, and saw that she had not forgotten Floy, Walter was brought into the room. His open face and manner, and his cheerful eyes, had always made him a favourite with Paul; and when Paul saw him' he stretched Out his hand, and said 'Good-bye!'
'Good-bye, my child!' said Mrs Pipchin, hurrying to his bed's head. 'Not good-bye?'
For an instant, Paul looked at her with the wistful face with which he had so often gazed upon her in his corner by the fire. 'Yes,' he said placidly, 'good-bye! Walter dear, good-bye!' - turning his head to where he stood, and putting out his hand again. 'Where is Papa?'
He felt his father's breath upon his cheek, before the words had parted from his lips.
'Remember Walter, dear Papa,' he whispered, looking in his face. 'Remember Walter. I was fond of Walter!' The feeble hand waved in the air, as if it cried 'good-bye!' to Walter once again.
'Now lay me down,' he said, 'and, Floy, come close to me, and let me see you!'
Sister and brother wound their arms around each other, and the golden light came streaming in, and fell upon them, locked together.
'How fast the river runs, between its green banks and the rushes, 'Floy! But it's very near the sea. I hear the waves! They always said so!'
Presently he told her the motion of the boat upon the stream was lulling him to rest. How green the banks were now, how bright the flowers growing on them, and how tall the rushes! Now the boat was out at sea, but gliding smoothly on. And now there was a shore before him. Who stood on the bank! -
He put his hands together, as he had been used to do at his prayers. He did not remove his arms to do it; but they saw him fold them so, behind her neck.
'Mama is like you, Floy. I know her by the face! But tell them that the print upon the stairs at school is not divine enough. The light about the head is shining on me as I go!'
The golden ripple on the wall came back again, and nothing else stirred in the room. The old, old fashion! The fashion that came in with our first garments, and will last unchanged until our race has run its course, and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The old, old fashion - Death!
Oh thank GOD, all who see it, for that older fashion yet, of Immortality! And look upon us, angels of young children, with regards not quite estranged, when the swift river bears us to the ocean!
'Dear me, dear me! To think,' said Miss Tox, bursting out afresh that night, as if her heart were broken, 'that Dombey and Son should be a Daughter after all!'
保罗一直没有从他的小床上起来过。他躺在那里,十分平静地听着街道上的喧嚣声;他不很关心时间怎么流逝,但却用他留神的眼睛注视着它,并注视着周围的一切。
当阳光透过飒飒拂动的窗帘射入他的房间,像金黄色的水一样,在对面的墙上荡漾时,他知道晚间即将来临,天空红而美丽。当返照的回光渐渐消失,幽暗的暮色渐渐爬上墙壁的时候,他注视着它加深,加深,最后变成了夜间。于是他想到了长长的街道上怎样到处点缀着路灯,宁静的星群怎样在上空闪耀。奇怪的是,他的想像总爱飘浮到河边,他知道河水正穿流过这座巨大的城市;现在他想到它是多么乌黑,当它映照着星群时看去是多么深邃,尤其是,它是多么一往直前、滔滔不绝地滚流进海洋里去。
夜渐渐深了,街上的脚步声渐渐稀少了,他可以听见它们走近,当它们走过时可以数清它们的数目,然后听凭它们在空旷寂静的远方消失;这时候,他就躺在那里,注视着蜡烛周围五颜六色的光圈,耐心地等待着白天来临。唯一引起他不安的是那奔腾迅速、湍急的河流,有时他必须设法阻止它——用他孩子的手挡住它——或者用沙子堵住它的道路——,而当他看到它不可抗拒地继续向前奔流的时候,他就哭出来!可是经常待在他身旁的弗洛伦斯只要讲一句话就能使他恢复平静;这时他就把他可怜的脑袋倚靠在她的胸前,把他的梦境讲给她听,并且微笑着。
当黎明重新来临时,他盼望着太阳;当它那明亮喜人的光辉开始在房间里闪耀时,他为自己描绘了——,不,不是描绘了,而是看见了一幅图景:高高的教堂钟楼耸立在早晨的天空中;城市复活了,苏醒了,重新开始了生活,河流滚滚奔流(但仍和往常一样快),发出了闪闪的亮光;乡间的田野覆盖着亮晶晶的露珠,一片光辉。熟悉的声音和喊叫声逐渐从下面的街道中传来;公馆中的仆人们醒来了,忙忙碌碌,好些脸孔从门口往里探望,好些声音在悄悄地问那些看护他的人,他怎么样了。保罗总是自己回答道,“我好些了。我好多了,谢谢您!请这样告诉我爸爸吧!”
白天的忙乱,马车、大车的喧闹声和人们的来来往往渐渐使他感到厌倦,他会睡去,或者又会因为那迅猛奔腾的河流感到急躁不安,无法平静——孩子不知道这是在他睡着的时候还是醒着的时候发生的事情。“唉,它就永远也不停吗,弗洛伊?”有时他会问她,“我觉得,它是要把我带走呢!”
但是弗洛伊总是安慰他,叫他安心;他总是让她把头躺在他的枕头上,休息一会儿,这已成为他每天的快乐。
“你总一直在看护着我,弗洛伊,现在让我来看护你吧!”他们会在他的床角放一个软垫来支撑他;当她躺在他身旁时,他就斜靠在那里,不时弯下身去吻她,并跟床边的人低声说,她累了,她曾经怎样许多夜坐在他的身旁。
就这样,炎热、光明的白天的亮光逐渐消逝了,金黄色的水波又重新在墙上荡漾。
有三位重要的医生来看他——他们通常在楼下开会,然后一起上来——;房间里非常安静,保罗又非常注意地观察他们(虽然他从来没有向任何人问过他们说了些什么),所以他甚至可以分辨得出他们表声的差别。但是他的兴趣集中在经常坐在他床边的帕克•佩普斯爵士身上。因为保罗好久以前曾听他们说,当他妈妈把弗洛伦斯搂在怀里死去的时候,这位先生也在场。现在他忘不了这件事。他由于这一点而喜欢他。他不害怕。
他周围的人们在莫名其妙地变换着,就像在布林伯博士家里头一个晚上一样。只有弗洛伦斯一个人例外,她从来没有被换走过。先前是帕克•佩普斯,现在却换成了他的父亲,坐在那里,用一只手支托着头。在安乐椅里打瞌睡的老皮普钦太太时常变换成托克斯小姐或他的姑妈;这时保罗很乐意重新闭上眼睛,平平静静地等待着随后发生的情况。但是这个用一只手支托着头的人影儿这么频繁地回来,待的时间这么长久,坐在那里那么呆板、严肃,从来不跟人说话,也从来没有人跟他说话,又很少抬起脸来,因此保罗开始倦乏地纳闷,他究竟是不是真的人,夜间看到他坐在那里的时候他感到害怕。
“弗洛伊!”他问道,“那是什么?”
“哪儿,亲爱的?”
“那里!在床的那一头!”
“那是爸爸,没有别的。”
那人影儿抬起头,站起来,走到床边,说道,“我亲爱的孩子,你不认识我了吗?”
保罗看着那人影儿的脸,心里想,这是他的父亲吗?他觉得那张脸已经改变了许多;当他注视它的时候,它似乎由于痛苦而颤动着;他还来不及伸出两只手捧住它,把它拉向身边时,那人影儿就迅速从小床边转开,走向门口。
保罗怀着一颗忐忑不安的心望着弗洛伦斯,但是他知道她将要说什么,就用脸堵住她的嘴唇。他下一次看到那人影儿坐在床的那一头时,他向它喊道:
“不要为我这么难过,亲爱的爸爸!我确实是很快乐的!”
他父亲很快走过来,没有在床边先停留一会儿,就立刻向他弯下身子;这时候保罗搂着他的脖子,把这些话很恳切地向他重复说了几次;在这之后,不论是白天还是黑夜,保罗就没有再看见他来到房间里来了;他经常喊道,“不要为我这样难过,我确实是很快乐的!”也就是从这时候起,他开始每天早上总要说,他好多了,请他们这样去告诉他的父亲。
那金黄色的水波在墙上荡漾了多少次,那乌黑乌黑的河流不顾他的不愿意,多少夜滚滚流向海洋,保罗从来没有计算过,也从来不想要知道。如果它们能够更亲切一些,或者他能感到它们对他更亲切一些的话,那么,它们对他就会一天天更加亲切了,而他对它们也就会一天天更为感激了。可是日子过去了多少,现在对这个温顺的孩子来说似乎并不重要。
有一天夜里,他一直在想他的母亲和挂在楼下客厅中的她的画像;他想到,她一定比他爸爸更爱弗洛伦斯;正因为这样,所以当她觉得自己快要死的时候,她曾经把弗洛伦斯拥抱在怀中,因为甚至是他,她的弟弟,一个这样深深地爱着她的人,也没有比这更为强烈的愿望了。沿着这条思路想下去,他觉得需要问一个问题:他是不是见过他的妈妈,因为他已记不起他们是不是曾经告诉过他“见过”还是“没有见过”;河水流得十分迅速,使他的头脑混乱不清。
“弗洛伊,我看见过妈妈没有?”
“没有,亲爱的,为什么你要问这个问题?”
“当我还是个婴儿的时候,我有没有看见过像妈妈那样仁慈的脸看着我,弗洛伊?”
他表示怀疑地问道,仿佛在他面前出现了一张脸孔的幻影。
“是的,你看见过,亲爱的!”
“谁的脸,弗洛伊?”
“你从前的奶妈的,你常常见到它。”
“我从前的奶妈现在在哪里?”保罗问道,“她是不是也死了?弗洛伊,是不是除了你,我们大家全都死了?”
房间里一阵慌乱,持续了片刻——也许还长久些,但似乎也不会长久多少——,然后一切又平静下来。弗洛伦斯脸上毫无血色,但却微笑着,用胳膊枕着他的头。她的胳膊颤抖得很厉害。
“请让我看看我从前的那位奶妈吧,弗洛伊!”
“她不在这里,亲爱的。她明天一定会来的。”
“谢谢你,弗洛伊!”
保罗讲完这些话,合上眼睛,睡着了。当他醒来的时候,太阳已经升高,白天明亮、温暖。他躺了一会儿,望着打开的窗子和在微风中飒飒作响、来回飘动的窗帘;然后他问道:
“弗洛伊,明天到了吗?她来了吗?”
似乎已经有人去找她了。也许是苏珊。保罗觉得,当他重新合上眼睛的时候,他听到她告诉他,她很快就会回来;但是他没有张开眼睛看。她信守她的诺言——也许她先前从没有离开过呢——可是接着,楼梯上传来了一阵脚步声,于是保罗醒来了——脑子和身体全都清醒了——,笔直地坐在床上。他现在看见他们都聚集在他的身旁。夜间有时出现的那一层灰蒙蒙的雾,已经在他们面前消失。他认识他们每一个人,并喊出他们每一个人的名字。
“这是谁呀?是我从前的奶妈吗?”孩子容光焕发,满脸笑容地望着走进来的一个人影儿问道。
是的,是的。不会有另一位陌生人见到他的时候会流出那些眼泪,会把他叫做她亲爱的孩子,她宝贝的孩子,她可怜的多病多难的孩子。不会有另外一位妇女会在他的床旁弯下身来,举起他消瘦的手,贴在她的嘴唇和胸脯上,像一个有权利爱抚他的人那样。不会有另外一位妇女会这样把所有在场的人全都忘记,而只记得他和弗洛伊两人,会对他们两人这样充满了亲切与怜悯的感情。
“弗洛伊,她的脸多么慈祥、多么善良呀!”保罗说道,“我真高兴,我又看到它了。别离开,老奶妈!待在这里吧。”
他所有的感官都敏锐起来了,他听到一个他熟悉的名字。
“是谁说‘沃尔特’的?”他环顾四周,问道,“有人说到沃尔特,他在这里吗?我非常想看到他。”
谁也没有直接回答他,但是他的父亲立刻对苏珊说,“那就喊他回来吧,让他上楼来!”在短暂的等待时间中,保罗怀着兴趣与惊异,微笑地看着他的奶妈,看到她没有忘记弗洛伊。不久,沃尔特被领进房间。他那坦诚的脸孔和态度,他那快活的眼睛,使他一直成为保罗所喜爱的人;保罗看到他时,伸出手说,“别了。”
“别了,我的孩子!”皮普钦太太急忙跑到他的床头,说道,“不是别了吧?”
保罗用沉思的脸色朝她望了一会儿,过去他在炉边的角落里就经常用这种脸色凝视着她的。“啊,是的,”他平静地说,“别了!亲爱的沃尔特,别了!”他把头转向沃尔特站着的地方,再次伸出手。“爸爸在哪里?”
这些话还没有说出口来,他就感觉到了他父亲贴住他脸颊时的呼吸。
“别忘记沃尔特,亲爱的爸爸,”他望着他的脸,低声说道,“别忘记沃尔特。我喜欢沃尔特!”那只虚弱的手在空中挥动着,仿佛它再一次向沃尔特喊道,“别了!”
“现在把我放下来躺着,”他说,“弗洛伊,走来挨近我,让我看着你!”
姐姐和弟弟伸出胳膊互相拥抱着。金黄色的阳光射进房间,射到他们紧紧抱在一起的身上。
“河水在绿色的河岸与芦苇中间流得多么快呀!弗洛伊!但是它离海很近了。我听到了海浪的声音!它们老是说着这样的话!”
接着,他告诉她,小船在河流上漂动,正在向他催眠。现在河岸多么葱翠,上面长着的花朵是多么鲜艳,芦苇是多么高!现在小船已经驶进海里了,但它仍旧继续平稳地向前滑行着。现在海岸出现在他前面。谁站在岸上?——他像平时祈祷时那样合着双手。他并没有把双手合拢。
“妈妈像你,弗洛伊。我从你的脸孔中认出了她!但请告诉他们,学校里楼梯上的那幅圣像没有充分表现出神圣的气概。我走的时候,他头上的灵光正为我照耀着道路!”
墙上金黄色的涟漪又重新在荡漾,房间里没有别的在动。那古老而又古老的先例啊!随着我们有了最初的衣服,这先例就已创立了,它将永不改变地延续下去,直到我们的族类走完了他们的旅程为止,到那时辽阔的苍穹就像一幅卷轴似地收卷了起来,那古老而又古老的先例——死亡啊!
啊,凡是看见的人都要感谢上帝,为了那更为古老的先例——永生!天使般的孩子们啊,当湍急的河流运载着我们漂向海洋去的时候,请别那样疏远冷漠地看着我们吧!
慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 17
Captain Cuttle does a little Business for the Young People

Captain Cuttle, in the exercise of that surprising talent for deep-laid and unfathomable scheming, with which (as is not unusual in men of transparent simplicity) he sincerely believed himself to be endowed by nature, had gone to Mr Dombey's house on the eventful Sunday, winking all the way as a vent for his superfluous sagacity, and had presented himself in the full lustre of the ankle-jacks before the eyes of Towlinson. Hearing from that individual, to his great concern, of the impending calamity, Captain Cuttle, in his delicacy, sheered off again confounded; merely handing in the nosegay as a small mark of his solicitude, and leaving his respectful compliments for the family in general, which he accompanied with an expression of his hope that they would lay their heads well to the wind under existing circumstances, and a friendly intimation that he would 'look up again' to-morrow.
The Captain's compliments were never heard of any more. The Captain's nosegay, after lying in the hall all night, was swept into the dust-bin next morning; and the Captain's sly arrangement, involved in one catastrophe with greater hopes and loftier designs, was crushed to pieces. So, when an avalanche bears down a mountain-forest, twigs and bushes suffer with the trees, and all perish together.
When Walter returned home on the Sunday evening from his long walk, and its memorable close, he was too much occupied at first by the tidings he had to give them, and by the emotions naturally awakened in his breast by the scene through which he had passed, to observe either that his Uncle was evidently unacquainted with the intelligence the Captain had undertaken to impart, or that the Captain made signals with his hook, warning him to avoid the subject. Not that the Captain's signals were calculated to have proved very comprehensible, however attentively observed; for, like those Chinese sages who are said in their conferences to write certain learned words in the air that are wholly impossible of pronunciation, the Captain made such waves and flourishes as nobody without a previous knowledge of his mystery, would have been at all likely to understand.
Captain Cuttle, however, becoming cognisant of what had happened, relinquished these attempts, as he perceived the slender chance that now existed of his being able to obtain a little easy chat with Mr Dombey before the period of Walter's departure. But in admitting to himself, with a disappointed and crestfallen countenance, that Sol Gills must be told, and that Walter must go - taking the case for the present as he found it, and not having it enlightened or improved beforehand by the knowing management of a friend - the Captain still felt an unabated confidence that he, Ned Cuttle, was the man for Mr Dombey; and that, to set Walter's fortunes quite square, nothing was wanted but that they two should come together. For the Captain never could forget how well he and Mr Dombey had got on at Brighton; with what nicety each of them had put in a word when it was wanted; how exactly they had taken one another's measure; nor how Ned Cuttle had pointed out that resources in the first extremity, and had brought the interview to the desired termination. On all these grounds the Captain soothed himself with thinking that though Ned Cuttle was forced by the pressure of events to 'stand by' almost useless for the present, Ned would fetch up with a wet sail in good time, and carry all before him.
Under the influence of this good-natured delusion, Captain Cuttle even went so far as to revolve in his own bosom, while he sat looking at Walter and listening with a tear on his shirt-collar to what he related, whether it might not be at once genteel and politic to give Mr Dombey a verbal invitation, whenever they should meet, to come and cut his mutton in Brig Place on some day of his own naming, and enter on the question of his young friend's prospects over a social glass. But the uncertain temper of Mrs MacStinger, and the possibility of her setting up her rest in the passage during such an entertainment, and there delivering some homily of an uncomplimentary nature, operated as a check on the Captain's hospitable thoughts, and rendered him timid of giving them encouragement.
One fact was quite clear to the Captain, as Walter, sitting thoughtfully over his untasted dinner, dwelt on all that had happened; namely, that however Walter's modesty might stand in the way of his perceiving it himself, he was, as one might say, a member of Mr Dombey's family. He had been, in his own person, connected with the incident he so pathetically described; he had been by name remembered and commended in close association with it; and his fortunes must have a particular interest in his employer's eyes. If the Captain had any lurking doubt whatever of his own conclusions, he had not the least doubt that they were good conclusions for the peace of mind of the Instrument-maker. Therefore he availed himself of so favourable a moment for breaking the West Indian intelligence to his friend, as a piece of extraordinary preferment; declaring that for his part he would freely give a hundred thousand pounds (if he had it) for Walter's gain in the long-run, and that he had no doubt such an investment would yield a handsome premium.
Solomon Gills was at first stunned by the communication, which fell upon the little back-parlour like a thunderbolt, and tore up the hearth savagely. But the Captain flashed such golden prospects before his dim sight: hinted so mysteriously at 'Whittingtonian consequences; laid such emphasis on what Walter had just now told them: and appealed to it so confidently as a corroboration of his predictions, and a great advance towards the realisation of the romantic legend of Lovely Peg: that he bewildered the old man. Walter, for his part, feigned to be so full of hope and ardour, and so sure of coming home again soon, and backed up the Captain with such expressive shakings of his head and rubbings of his hands, that Solomon, looking first at him then at Captain Cuttle, began to think he ought to be transported with joy.
'But I'm behind the time, you understand,' he observed in apology, passing his hand nervously down the whole row of bright buttons on his coat, and then up again, as if they were beads and he were telling them twice over: 'and I would rather have my dear boy here. It's an old-fashioned notion, I daresay. He was always fond of the sea He's' - and he looked wistfully at Walter - 'he's glad to go.'
'Uncle Sol!' cried Walter, quickly, 'if you say that, I won't go. No, Captain Cuttle, I won't. If my Uncle thinks I could be glad to leave him, though I was going to be made Governor of all the Islands in the West Indies, that's enough. I'm a fixture.'
'Wal'r, my lad,' said the Captain. 'Steady! Sol Gills, take an observation of your nevy.
Following with his eyes the majestic action of the Captain's hook, the old man looked at Walter.
'Here is a certain craft,' said the Captain, with a magnificent sense of the allegory into which he was soaring, 'a-going to put out on a certain voyage. What name is wrote upon that craft indelibly? Is it The Gay? or,' said the Captain, raising his voice as much as to say, observe the point of this, 'is it The Gills?'
'Ned,' said the old man, drawing Walter to his side, and taking his arm tenderly through his, 'I know. I know. Of course I know that Wally considers me more than himself always. That's in my mind. When I say he is glad to go, I mean I hope he is. Eh? look you, Ned and you too, Wally, my dear, this is new and unexpected to me; and I'm afraid my being behind the time, and poor, is at the bottom of it. Is it really good fortune for him, do you tell me, now?' said the old man, looking anxiously from one to the other. 'Really and truly? Is it? I can reconcile myself to almost anything that advances Wally, but I won't have Wally putting himself at any disadvantage for me, or keeping anything from me. You, Ned Cuttle!' said the old man, fastening on the Captain, to the manifest confusion of that diplomatist; 'are you dealing plainly by your old friend? Speak out, Ned Cuttle. Is there anything behind? Ought he to go? How do you know it first, and why?'
As it was a contest of affection and self-denial, Walter struck in with infinite effect, to the Captain's relief; and between them they tolerably reconciled old Sol Gills, by continued talking, to the project; or rather so confused him, that nothing, not even the pain of separation, was distinctly clear to his mind.
He had not much time to balance the matter; for on the very next day, Walter received from Mr Carker the Manager, the necessary credentials for his passage and outfit, together with the information that the Son and Heir would sail in a fortnight, or within a day or two afterwards at latest. In the hurry of preparation: which Walter purposely enhanced as much as possible: the old man lost what little selfpossession he ever had; and so the time of departure drew on rapidly.
The Captain, who did not fail to make himself acquainted with all that passed, through inquiries of Walter from day to day, found the time still tending on towards his going away, without any occasion offering itself, or seeming likely to offer itself, for a better understanding of his position. It was after much consideration of this fact, and much pondering over such an unfortunate combination of circumstances, that a bright idea occurred to the Captain. Suppose he made a call on Mr Carker, and tried to find out from him how the land really lay!
Captain Cuttle liked this idea very much. It came upon him in a moment of inspiration, as he was smoking an early pipe in Brig Place after breakfast; and it was worthy of the tobacco. It would quiet his conscience, which was an honest one, and was made a little uneasy by what Walter had confided to him, and what Sol Gills had said; and it would be a deep, shrewd act of friendship. He would sound Mr Carker carefully, and say much or little, just as he read that gentleman's character, and discovered that they got on well together or the reverse.
Accordingly, without the fear of Walter before his eyes (who he knew was at home packing), Captain Cuttle again assumed his ankle-jacks and mourning brooch, and issued forth on this second expedition. He purchased no propitiatory nosegay on the present occasion, as he was going to a place of business; but he put a small sunflower in his button-hole to give himself an agreeable relish of the country; and with this, and the knobby stick, and the glazed hat, bore down upon the offices of Dombey and Son.
After taking a glass of warm rum-and-water at a tavern close by, to collect his thoughts, the Captain made a rush down the court, lest its good effects should evaporate, and appeared suddenly to Mr Perch.
'Matey,' said the Captain, in persuasive accents. 'One of your Governors is named Carker.' Mr Perch admitted it; but gave him to understand, as in official duty bound, that all his Governors were engaged, and never expected to be disengaged any more.
'Look'ee here, mate,' said the Captain in his ear; 'my name's Cap'en Cuttle.'
The Captain would have hooked Perch gently to him, but Mr Perch eluded the attempt; not so much in design, as in starting at the sudden thought that such a weapon unexpectedly exhibited to Mrs Perch might, in her then condition, be destructive to that lady's hopes.
'If you'll be so good as just report Cap'en Cuttle here, when you get a chance,' said the Captain, 'I'll wait.'
Saying which, the Captain took his seat on Mr Perch's bracket, and drawing out his handkerchief from the crown of the glazed hat which he jammed between his knees (without injury to its shape, for nothing human could bend it), rubbed his head well all over, and appeared refreshed. He subsequently arranged his hair with his hook, and sat looking round the office, contemplating the clerks with a serene respect.
The Captain's equanimity was so impenetrable, and he was altogether so mysterious a being, that Perch the messenger was daunted.
'What name was it you said?' asked Mr Perch, bending down over him as he sat on the bracket.
'Cap'en,' in a deep hoarse whisper.
'Yes,' said Mr Perch, keeping time with his head.
'Cuttle.'
'Oh!' said Mr Perch, in the same tone, for he caught it, and couldn't help it; the Captain, in his diplomacy, was so impressive. 'I'll see if he's disengaged now. I don't know. Perhaps he may be for a minute.'
'Ay, ay, my lad, I won't detain him longer than a minute,' said the Captain, nodding with all the weighty importance that he felt within him. Perch, soon returning, said, 'Will Captain Cuttle walk this way?'
Mr Carker the Manager, standing on the hearth-rug before the empty fireplace, which was ornamented with a castellated sheet of brown paper, looked at the Captain as he came in, with no very special encouragement.
'Mr Carker?' said Captain Cuttle.
'I believe so,' said Mr Carker, showing all his teeth.
The Captain liked his answering with a smile; it looked pleasant. 'You see,' began the Captain, rolling his eyes slowly round the little room, and taking in as much of it as his shirt-collar permitted; 'I'm a seafaring man myself, Mr Carker, and Wal'r, as is on your books here, is almost a son of mine.'
'Walter Gay?' said Mr Carker, showing all his teeth again.
'Wal'r Gay it is,' replied the Captain, 'right!' The Captain's manner expressed a warm approval of Mr Carker's quickness of perception. 'I'm a intimate friend of his and his Uncle's. Perhaps,' said the Captain, 'you may have heard your head Governor mention my name? - Captain Cuttle.'
'No!' said Mr Carker, with a still wider demonstration than before.
'Well,' resumed the Captain, 'I've the pleasure of his acquaintance. I waited upon him down on the Sussex coast there, with my young friend Wal'r, when - in short, when there was a little accommodation wanted.' The Captain nodded his head in a manner that was at once comfortable, easy, and expressive. 'You remember, I daresay?'
'I think,' said Mr Carker, 'I had the honour of arranging the business.'
'To be sure!' returned the Captain. 'Right again! you had. Now I've took the liberty of coming here -
'Won't you sit down?' said Mr Carker, smiling.
'Thank'ee,' returned the Captain, availing himself of the offer. 'A man does get more way upon himself, perhaps, in his conversation, when he sits down. Won't you take a cheer yourself?'
'No thank you,' said the Manager, standing, perhaps from the force of winter habit, with his back against the chimney-piece, and looking down upon the Captain with an eye in every tooth and gum. 'You have taken the liberty, you were going to say - though it's none - '
'Thank'ee kindly, my lad,' returned the Captain: 'of coming here, on account of my friend Wal'r. Sol Gills, his Uncle, is a man of science, and in science he may be considered a clipper; but he ain't what I should altogether call a able seaman - not man of practice. Wal'r is as trim a lad as ever stepped; but he's a little down by the head in one respect, and that is, modesty. Now what I should wish to put to you,' said the Captain, lowering his voice, and speaking in a kind of confidential growl, 'in a friendly way, entirely between you and me, and for my own private reckoning, 'till your head Governor has wore round a bit, and I can come alongside of him, is this - Is everything right and comfortable here, and is Wal'r out'ard bound with a pretty fair wind?'
'What do you think now, Captain Cuttle?' returned Carker, gathering up his skirts and settling himself in his position. 'You are a practical man; what do you think?'
The acuteness and the significance of the Captain's eye as he cocked it in reply, no words short of those unutterable Chinese words before referred to could describe.
'Come!' said the Captain, unspeakably encouraged, 'what do you say? Am I right or wrong?'
So much had the Captain expressed in his eye, emboldened and incited by Mr Carker's smiling urbanity, that he felt himself in as fair a condition to put the question, as if he had expressed his sentiments with the utmost elaboration.
'Right,' said Mr Carker, 'I have no doubt.'
'Out'ard bound with fair weather, then, I say,' cried Captain Cuttle.
Mr Carker smiled assent.
'Wind right astarn, and plenty of it,' pursued the Captain.
Mr Carker smiled assent again.
'Ay, ay!' said Captain Cuttle, greatly relieved and pleased. 'I know'd how she headed, well enough; I told Wal'r so. Thank'ee, thank'ee.'
'Gay has brilliant prospects,' observed Mr Carker, stretching his mouth wider yet: 'all the world before him.'
'All the world and his wife too, as the saying is,' returned the delighted Captain.
At the word 'wife' (which he had uttered without design), the Captain stopped, cocked his eye again, and putting the glazed hat on the top of the knobby stick, gave it a twirl, and looked sideways at his always smiling friend.
'I'd bet a gill of old Jamaica,' said the Captain, eyeing him attentively, 'that I know what you're a smiling at.'
Mr Carker took his cue, and smiled the more.
'It goes no farther?' said the Captain, making a poke at the door with the knobby stick to assure himself that it was shut.
'Not an inch,' said Mr Carker.
'You're thinking of a capital F perhaps?' said the Captain.
Mr Carker didn't deny it.
'Anything about a L,' said the Captain, 'or a O?'
Mr Carker still smiled.
'Am I right, again?' inquired the Captain in a whisper, with the scarlet circle on his forehead swelling in his triumphant joy.
Mr Carker, in reply, still smiling, and now nodding assent, Captain Cuttle rose and squeezed him by the hand, assuring him, warmly, that they were on the same tack, and that as for him (Cuttle) he had laid his course that way all along. 'He know'd her first,' said the Captain, with all the secrecy and gravity that the subject demanded, 'in an uncommon manner - you remember his finding her in the street when she was a'most a babby - he has liked her ever since, and she him, as much as two youngsters can. We've always said, Sol Gills and me, that they was cut out for each other.'
A cat, or a monkey, or a hyena, or a death's-head, could not have shown the Captain more teeth at one time, than Mr Carker showed him at this period of their interview.
'There's a general indraught that way,' observed the happy Captain. 'Wind and water sets in that direction, you see. Look at his being present t'other day!'
'Most favourable to his hopes,' said Mr Carker.
'Look at his being towed along in the wake of that day!' pursued the Captain. 'Why what can cut him adrift now?'
'Nothing,' replied Mr Carker.
'You're right again,' returned the Captain, giving his hand another squeeze. 'Nothing it is. So! steady! There's a son gone: pretty little creetur. Ain't there?'
'Yes, there's a son gone,' said the acquiescent Carker.
'Pass the word, and there's another ready for you,' quoth the Captain. 'Nevy of a scientific Uncle! Nevy of Sol Gills! Wal'r! Wal'r, as is already in your business! And' - said the Captain, rising gradually to a quotation he was preparing for a final burst, 'who - comes from Sol Gills's daily, to your business, and your buzzums.' The Captain's complacency as he gently jogged Mr Carker with his elbow, on concluding each of the foregoing short sentences, could be surpassed by nothing but the exultation with which he fell back and eyed him when he had finished this brilliant display of eloquence and sagacity; his great blue waistcoat heaving with the throes of such a masterpiece, and his nose in a state of violent inflammation from the same cause.
'Am I right?' said the Captain.
'Captain Cuttle,' said Mr Carker, bending down at the knees, for a moment, in an odd manner, as if he were falling together to hug the whole of himself at once, 'your views in reference to Walter Gay are thoroughly and accurately right. I understand that we speak together in confidence.
'Honour!' interposed the Captain. 'Not a word.'
'To him or anyone?' pursued the Manager.
Captain Cuttle frowned and shook his head.
'But merely for your own satisfaction and guidance - and guidance, of course,' repeated Mr Carker, 'with a view to your future proceedings.'
'Thank'ee kindly, I am sure,' said the Captain, listening with great attention.
'I have no hesitation in saying, that's the fact. You have hit the probabilities exactly.'
'And with regard to your head Governor,' said the Captain, 'why an interview had better come about nat'ral between us. There's time enough.'
Mr Carker, with his mouth from ear to ear, repeated, 'Time enough.' Not articulating the words, but bowing his head affably, and forming them with his tongue and lips.
'And as I know - it's what I always said- that Wal'r's in a way to make his fortune,' said the Captain.
'To make his fortune,' Mr Carker repeated, in the same dumb manner.
'And as Wal'r's going on this little voyage is, as I may say, in his day's work, and a part of his general expectations here,' said the Captain.
'Of his general expectations here,' assented Mr Carker, dumbly as before.
'Why, so long as I know that,' pursued the Captain, 'there's no hurry, and my mind's at ease.
Mr Carker still blandly assenting in the same voiceless manner, Captain Cuttle was strongly confirmed in his opinion that he was one of the most agreeable men he had ever met, and that even Mr Dombey might improve himself on such a model. With great heartiness, therefore, the Captain once again extended his enormous hand (not unlike an old block in colour), and gave him a grip that left upon his smoother flesh a proof impression of the chinks and crevices with which the Captain's palm was liberally tattooed.
'Farewell!' said the Captain. 'I ain't a man of many words, but I take it very kind of you to be so friendly, and above-board. You'll excuse me if I've been at all intruding, will you?' said the Captain.
'Not at all,' returned the other.
'Thank'ee. My berth ain't very roomy,' said the Captain, turning back again, 'but it's tolerably snug; and if you was to find yourself near Brig Place, number nine, at any time - will you make a note of it? - and would come upstairs, without minding what was said by the person at the door, I should be proud to see you.
With that hospitable invitation, the Captain said 'Good day!' and walked out and shut the door; leaving Mr Carker still reclining against the chimney-piece. In whose sly look and watchful manner; in whose false mouth, stretched but not laughing; in whose spotless cravat and very whiskers; even in whose silent passing of his soft hand over his white linen and his smooth face; there was something desperately cat-like.
The unconscious Captain walked out in a state of self-glorification that imparted quite a new cut to the broad blue suit. 'Stand by, Ned!' said the Captain to himself. 'You've done a little business for the youngsters today, my lad!'
In his exultation, and in his familiarity, present and prospective, with the House, the Captain, when he reached the outer office, could not refrain from rallying Mr Perch a little, and asking him whether he thought everybody was still engaged. But not to be bitter on a man who had done his duty, the Captain whispered in his ear, that if he felt disposed for a glass of rum-and-water, and would follow, he would be happy to bestow the same upon him.
Before leaving the premises, the Captain, somewhat to the astonishment of the clerks, looked round from a central point of view, and took a general survey of the officers part and parcel of a project in which his young friend was nearly interested. The strong-room excited his especial admiration; but, that he might not appear too particular, he limited himself to an approving glance, and, with a graceful recognition of the clerks as a body, that was full of politeness and patronage, passed out into the court. Being promptly joined by Mr Perch, he conveyed that gentleman to the tavern, and fulfilled his pledge - hastily, for Perch's time was precious.
'I'll give you for a toast,' said the Captain, 'Wal'r!'
'Who?' submitted Mr Perch.
'Wal'r!' repeated the Captain, in a voice of thunder.
Mr Perch, who seemed to remember having heard in infancy that there was once a poet of that name, made no objection; but he was much astonished at the Captain's coming into the City to propose a poet; indeed, if he had proposed to put a poet's statue up - say Shakespeare's for example - in a civic thoroughfare, he could hardly have done a greater outrage to Mr Perch's experience. On the whole, he was such a mysterious and incomprehensible character, that Mr Perch decided not to mention him to Mrs Perch at all, in case of giving rise to any disagreeable consequences.
Mysterious and incomprehensible, the Captain, with that lively sense upon him of having done a little business for the youngsters, remained all day, even to his most intimate friends; and but that Walter attributed his winks and grins, and other such pantomimic reliefs of himself, to his satisfaction in the success of their innocent deception upon old Sol Gills, he would assuredly have betrayed himself before night. As it was, however, he kept his own secret; and went home late from the Instrument-maker's house, wearing the glazed hat so much on one side, and carrying such a beaming expression in his eyes, that Mrs MacStinger (who might have been brought up at Doctor Blimber's, she was such a Roman matron) fortified herself, at the first glimpse of him, behind the open street door, and refused to come out to the contemplation of her blessed infants, until he was securely lodged in his own room.
卡特尔船长运用他那惊人的、他真心自信是天赋的才能(就一个无比纯朴的人来说,这倒并非异乎寻常),制订出那个深奥莫测的计划,在那个多事的星期天,前往董贝先生的公馆;他一路上一直眨巴着眼睛,让他那横溢的才智有一个排泄的孔道;他脚上穿着那双光耀夺目的短靴,就这样出现在托林森的眼前。卡特尔船长从那人那里听到了那即将来临的灾难,十分忧虑;由于他一向处事审慎,所以就惊慌失色地急忙“改变航向”,离开那里,而只递进那个花束,表示他关怀的一点小小心意,还请托林森向全家人转达他的敬意和问候,希望他们在当前的情况下坚强地顶住风,最后友好地暗示,他明天将“再来看看”。
船长的问候再也没有被人听到。船长的花束在前厅里搁了一夜,第二天早晨就被扫进了垃圾箱;船长神机妙算的安排,连同那更为伟大的希望和更为崇高的计划一道卷进了这场奇灾大祸,如今已被彻底粉碎。因此,当雪崩冲毁山间的森林时,细枝和灌木也随同大树遭殃,全都荡然无存。
沃尔特经过长距离的游逛和最后随着发生的那些难忘的事情之后,星期天晚上回到家里时,最初一心一意想着他必须告诉他们的消息,并彻底沉浸在刚才经历的情景在他心中自然唤起的情感之中,所以既没有注意到他舅舅显然还不知道船长答应通知的信息,也没有注意到船长用钩子向他打了个信号,提醒他不要提起这个话题。不过,不论如何聚精会神地观察,船长的信号也不是很容易理解的;因为就像中国的圣人据说在开会时曾经写过一些完全不能发音的艰涩高深的词语一样,船长那些龙飞凤舞般的指指划划,谁要是事先不了解他的秘密,那是根本不可能看懂的。
可是船长在知道所发生的事情之后,放弃了这些打算,因为他看到,在沃尔特出发之前,现在很少有机会能跟董贝先生无拘无束地随意交谈。不过,船长尽管带着灰心失望、垂头丧气的神色暗自承认,所尔•吉尔斯一定得知道这件事情,沃尔特一定得走——情况暂且只能听凭和他当初接触到的时候一样,并没有因为有朋友明智地进行调停,而使事实真相得以澄清或使境遇有所改善——,但他仍毫不动摇地相信,他内德•卡特尔是与董贝先生磋商的合适人物,只要他们两人走到一起,就可以十分妥善地安排沃尔特的命运。因为船长永远不能忘记,他与董贝先生在布赖顿相处得很好,他们每人都在合适的时候恰如其分地说出了需要说的话;他们曾经准确地判断了彼此的为人;他也不会忘记他内德•卡特尔怎样在陷于绝境时指出这条出路并使会晤导向合乎要求的结局。船长根据这些理由安慰自己:内德•卡特尔目前虽然由于情势所逼,暂且只好无所事事地袖手旁观,但有朝一日,时机一到,他内德总能扬起船帆,胜利地向前航行的。
在这种出自善意的误解的影响下,卡特尔船长坐在那里,看着沃尔特,听着他叙述,同时在衬衫领子上掉下一颗眼泪的时候,心中甚至在转悠着这样的念头:不论哪一天他遇见董贝先生时,他就口头邀请他,在他指定的任何一天,到布里格广场来品尝品尝羊肉,然后在碰杯祝酒时再谈谈他年轻朋友的前途问题——这样做是不是既符合礼仪而又富于策略?但是麦克斯适杰太太的脾气难以捉摸,在他举行宴请时她可能伸开四肢,躺卧在走廊里,含沙带刺地说起教来;这些顾虑在船长好客的想法上泼上一瓢冷水,使他胆怯心灰。
当沃尔特沉思地坐在餐桌前面没有吃饭,心中一直细想着所发生的一切时,在船长看来,有一个事实是很清楚的,就是:尽管沃尔特本人由于谦虚,还认识不到这一点,但他却可以说是董贝先生家庭中的一员了。他本人曾亲自跟他十分感伤地叙述的事件联系在一起;就在这一个事件发生的过程当中,他们记起了他的名字,并赞扬他;他的老板对他一定会另眼相看,对他的前途一定会格外关心的。如果说船长对他自己的结论暗中还有什么怀疑的话,那么他毫不怀疑,这些结论对安定仪器制造商的心情是十分有利的。因此他就利用了这样一个大好时机,把去西印度群岛的消息作为一件破格提升的待遇,透露给他的老朋友;声称如果他有钱的话,那么他就将慷慨解囊,为沃尔持的长远利益拿出十万英镑;他相信这一笔投资一定会产生可观的赢利。
所罗门•吉尔斯听到这个消息,起初晕头转向,目瞪口呆;它像晴天霹雳般地打进了小小的后客厅,粗暴地破坏了炉边安宁的气氛。可是船长在他昏花的眼睛前面展示出一幅黄金般灿烂的前景,十分神秘地暗示惠廷顿式的前程;对沃尔特刚刚告诉他们的事情大事宣扬它的重要意义,满怀信心地把它用来说明他的预言已开始得到证实,在实现可爱的佩格姑娘的传说方面已迈出了重大的一步。——所有这一切把老人弄得心迷意乱,糊里糊涂。沃尔特也假装充满了希望和热忱,确信他不久就会回来,同时为了支持船长,他富于表情地摇晃着脑袋,搓着手,因此所罗门起初望望他,然后又望望卡特尔船长,开始想到,他该欣喜若狂才好呢。
“可是,你们知道,我已经落在时代后面了,”他辩解地说道,一边紧张不安地用手从上到下摸着他外衣上一排发亮的钮扣,然后又从下到上摸回去,仿佛它们是念珠似的,他正把它们连数两遍;“我宁愿让我亲爱的孩子留在这里。这肯定是过时的想法了。他过去总是喜爱海,他——”他闷闷不乐地望着沃尔特说,“他高兴去。”
“所尔舅舅!”沃尔特迅速地喊道,“如果你这样说的话,那么我就•不•想去了。是的,卡特尔船长,我不想去了。如果舅舅以为我能高高兴兴地离开他的话(即使我就要走马上任,去当西印度群岛的总督),那么这句话就足够了。我将寸步不离地守在这里。”
“沃尔,我的孩子,”船长说,“别着急!所尔•吉尔斯,请看看您的外甥吧!”
船长的钩子威严地移动着,老人的眼睛跟随着它,看到了沃尔特。
“有一条船就要出航,”船长文思大发,举了一个动人的比喻,“要在这条船上不可磨灭地写上一个什么名字呢?是写盖伊号呢?还是,”船长提高了声音,提醒大家注意,“还是写吉尔斯号呢?”
“内德,”老人把沃尔特拉到他的身旁,亲切地挽着他的胳膊,说道,“我知道。我知道。我知道沃尔特总是更多地考虑我,而很少考虑他自己。这一点我心里是明白的。我说他高兴去,我的意思是说,我希望他高兴去。嗯,内德,你听着,还有沃利,亲爱的,你也听着,这是我意想不到的新消息;我怕我落在时代的后面,而且贫穷可怜;这就是根本的原因。现在,请你们告诉我,这对他是不是真的是个好运气?”老人忧虑不安地从这一位望到另一位,说道,“千真万确是那样吗?如果这对沃利的前程真是有利的话,那么我自己几乎什么都能迁就,但是我不愿意沃利为我而牺牲自己或者对我隐瞒什么。你,内德•卡特尔”!老人眼睛直瞪着船长,瞪得这位外交家局促不安,“你对你的老朋友老实吗?说出来,内德•卡特尔背后有什么瞒着我?他该不该去?你怎么先知道的,为什么能先知道?”
由于这是一场骨肉情谊与自我牺牲的竞赛,船长感到宽慰的是,沃尔特这时进来插话,取得了无限的效果。他们两人一刻不停地交谈着,使老所尔•吉尔斯多少安下心来;或者说得确切些,把他弄得稀里糊涂,一切都不明白,甚至连离别的痛苦他也不能清楚地感觉到了。
他没有多少时间来衡量这件事情,因为第二天,沃尔特就从经理卡克先生那里接到有关出发和服装用品的必要指令,同时还得悉,“儿子和继承人”号将在两星期或最迟晚一、两天内开航。沃尔特故意把准备工作搞得匆匆忙忙,在这匆忙的过程中,老人仅有的一点冷静也失去了,因此启程的日期迅速地就临近了。
船长每天都向沃尔特打听,所以知道发生的一切情形;他觉得时间一天天接近沃尔特动身的日子,却没有出现或看来可能出现任何情况可以更好地了解沃尔特的处境。船长对这个事情进行了反复的考虑,对不幸凑合在一起的一些情况进行了许多思索之后,心中忽然出现一个巧妙的主意。不妨去拜访一下卡克先生,设法从他那里了解一下,海岸究竟是在哪个方向?
卡特尔船长很喜欢这个主意,它是他在布里格广场吃过早饭以后抽第一斗烟时灵机一动的一刹那中突然来到他的头脑中的;抽这斗烟很值得。他的良心是诚实的,沃尔特向他吐露的内情以及所尔•吉尔斯所说的话曾使他稍感不安,这次访问将会使他的良心安宁下来;而且这将是一个寓意深长,精明高超的友好行动。他将谨慎小心地试探卡克先生,当他看清这位先生的性格,认定他们是否能融洽相处之后再决定多谈或少谈。
因此,不怕遇见沃尔特(他知道他在家里忙着收拾行李),卡特尔船长重新穿上短靴,别上哀悼友人的胸针,走上他的第二次征途。这次他没有买送礼的花束,因为他是到一个办公的地方去;但是他在钮扣孔里插了一朵小小的向日葵花,身上发出了令人愉快的乡村的清香,他就这样拿着那根多节的手杖,戴着上了光的帽子,动身到董贝父子公司去了。
船长在附近的小酒店喝了一杯温暖的、搀水的朗姆酒,定神想想,然后快步跑过庭院,唯恐酒的良好效果就要蒸发掉似的,最后突然出现在珀奇先生的面前。
“老弟,”船长用诱导性的语气说道,“您们公司的头头里有一位是姓卡克的。”
珀奇先生承认这一点,但他有责任让他了解,公司的头头们都很忙,别指望他们能抽出时间来。
“老弟,告诉您,”船长凑着他的耳朵说道,“我是卡特尔船长。”
船长本想用钩子把珀奇先生轻轻地拉到身旁,但是珀奇先生避开了;他倒不是故意逃避,而主要是他突然想到,这样一种武器出乎意外地出现在珀奇太太眼前,在她当时的情况下,是很可能会断送掉她的美好希望的。①
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①指珀奇太太见了可能受惊流产。
“劳驾您有机会进去通报一声,卡特尔船长来了,”卡特尔船长说道,“我在这里等。”
船长说完话,就坐在珀奇先生的托架上,从那顶上了光的帽子(他把它夹在两个膝盖中间,并没有损坏它的形状,因为不论什么人类的东西都不能使它弯曲)顶端掏出一块手绢,把头好好地擦了一遍,看上去神清气爽。然后他用钩子梳梳头发,安祥沉着地坐在那里,环视办公室四处,并看着那些职员们。
船长泰然自若的态度令人高深莫测,而他本人又是那么一位神秘的人物,因此信差珀奇被吓唬住了。
“您刚才说您姓什么?”珀奇先生向坐在托架上的船长欠身问道。
“我是船长,”他用低沉、嘶哑的低声说道。
“是,”珀奇先生急忙点头道。
“姓卡特尔。”
“哦!”珀奇先生用同样的声调说道,因为他听到了,也不能不听到;船长的外交风度给他留下了很深刻的印象。“我去看看他现在是不是有空,我不知道。也许他可以抽出一分钟。”
“行,行,老弟,我耽误他的时间不会超过一分钟,”船长怀着极大的自尊心,点点头,说道。珀奇不一会儿就回来了,说道,“请卡特尔船长往这边走好吗?”
经理卡克先生站在没有生火的、用牛皮纸城形图案装饰着的壁炉前面的地毯上,以不特别欢迎的眼光看着走进的船长。
“是卡克先生吗?”船长问道。
“我想是的,”卡克先生露出所有的牙齿,说道。
船长对他微笑着回答感到高兴,这看来是令人愉快的。
“您知道,”船长开始说道,一边慢慢地转着眼睛环视着这间小房间,把他衬衫领子没有挡住的地方都看在眼里。“我本人是个航海人员,卡克先生,列在你们职员名册上的沃尔可以说是我的儿子。”
“是指沃尔特•盖伊吗?”卡克先生又露出所有的牙齿说道。
“是沃尔•盖伊,”船长回答,“完全正确!”船长在神态中对卡克先生灵敏的理解力表示热烈赞扬。“我是他和他舅舅的亲密朋友。也许,”船长说,“您曾听到你们公司老板提起过我的名字吧?——卡特尔船长。”
“没有,”卡克先生比先前更宽阔地露出他的牙齿说。“唔,”船长继续说,“我有幸跟他认识。我跟我年轻的朋友沃尔一道,在萨塞克斯①海边拜访过他,当时——总之,当时需要请他通融小小一笔资金。”船长点点头,神态既愉快,从容,又富于表情。“我想,您记得吧?”
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①萨塞克斯(Sussex):英格兰南部的郡,布赖顿就在这郡内。
“我想,”卡克先生说,“我曾有幸安排过这件事情。”
“不错!”船长答道,“又完全正确!是您安排的。现在我冒昧地到这里来——”
“您坐下好吗?”卡克微笑着说。
“谢谢您,”船长接受了建议,回答道,“坐下来谈话也许会轻松一些。您自己也在椅子上坐下好吗?”
“不,谢谢您,”经理说道;也许是由于冬天养成的习惯,他还继续站着;他的背靠着壁炉架,并往下望着船长,好像他每个牙齿和牙床中都长着一只眼睛似的。“您刚才说,您冒昧地——其实并没有什么冒昧。”
“非常感谢您,我的朋友,”船长回答道,“我是为了我的朋友沃尔冒昧地到这里来的,他的舅舅所尔•吉尔斯是一位搞科学的人,在科学上他可以算得上是一只快速帆船。可是,我不能把他称为能干的船员——他不是个注重实际的人。沃尔是个难得的棒小伙子;不过他也有缺点,那就是谦虚。现在,在你们老板心情没有稍稍恢复,我可以来跟他一起交谈之前,”船长压低了声音,以极为信任的低沉的粗声说道,“我希望以友好的方式,完全在您与我之间,也为了我个人有个正确的估量,向您提个问题,就是:这里是不是一切都很完善妥贴,沃尔出航是否顺风?”
“您现在怎么想,卡特尔船长?”卡克提起衣服下摆,站好姿势,回答道,“您是个注重实际的人,您怎么想呢?”
船长的眼睛向上一瞟作为回答,那眼光的锐利与意味深长,除了前面提到的不能发音的中国语言外,其他语言都不能形容。
“好啦!”船长受到难以表述的鼓舞,说道,“请您说说,我对了还是错了?”
受到了卡克先生彬彬有礼的微笑的鼓舞,船长壮了胆,在眼光中表露了十分深长的寓意;他觉得他是在很有希望的情况下提出问题的,仿佛他已用精心推敲过的言辞表达了他的感情。
“对了,”卡克先生说,“我没有怀疑。”
“那么,我说,他出航遇上很好的天气了?”卡特尔船长喊道。
卡克先生微笑着表示同意。
“风向顺利,风力很足?”船长继续问道。
卡克先生又微笑着表示同意。
“不错!不错!”卡特尔船长非常放心和满意地说道,“我早就很明白这船的航向如何。我跟沃尔特说过。谢谢您,谢谢您。”
“盖伊有光明的前途,”卡克先生的嘴张得比先前更大,说道,“整个世界都展现在他的前面。”
“就像谚语所说的,整个世界,还有他的妻子都展现在他的前面,”兴高采烈的船长回答道。
妻子这两个字船长是无意间说出来的,他说到这两个字的时候停了停,眼睛又向上一瞟,接着把上了光的帽子顶在多节的手杖上打了个转,然后斜眼看着他那老在微笑的朋友。
“我拿一及耳牙买加陈酒①打赌,”船长目不转睛地注视着他说,“我知道您笑什么。”
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①及耳,约相当于0.14升。牙买加以产糖酒闻名。
卡克先生明白他的暗示,更加高兴地微笑着。
“不再前进了?”船长问道,一边用多节的手杖往门上戳一戳,使他自己放心,门是关着的。
“一英寸也不了,”卡克先生说。
“也许您在想着一个弗字?”船长问道。
卡克先生没有否认。
“是不是跟洛字或伦字有关?”船长问。
卡克先生仍然微笑着。
“我是不是又对了?”船长低声问道,他得意扬扬,前额上都涨出了一个红圈。
卡克先生仍然微笑着回答,现在又点点头表示同意;卡特尔船长就站起来,紧握着他的手,热情洋溢地让他相信,他们是在同一个航向的航程上;至于他卡特尔,他一直都是沿着这个航向前进的。“起初,”船长谈到这个话题时,显出理所应当的秘密与庄重的神情,说道,“他是在一个很不寻常的情况下认识她的——您记得,他是在街上找到她的,当时她几乎还是个小娃娃,——从那时起,他就爱上了她,她也爱上他,他们相爱得十分热烈,就像这样两个年轻人会那样相爱一样。我们,所尔和我,经常说,他们是天造地设的一对。”
一只猫,一个猴子,一条鬣狗或者一个骷髅,也不能一下子比卡克先生在他们这次会晤期间向船长显露出更多的牙齿。
“您看,水流是向着那一边的,”乐呵呵的船长说,“风朝着那个方向吹,水朝着那个方向流。看吧,他有一天是会到那里的!”
“对他的希望极为有利,”卡克先生说道。
“看吧,有一天他会被绳子拖着前进!”船长继续说,“现在有什么能使他任意漂流的呢?”
“什么也不能了,”卡克先生回答。
“您又完全正确,”船长又一次紧握着他的手,回答道,“什么也不能了。因此!别着急!儿子已经去世了,那个可爱的小人儿。是不是?”
“是的,儿子已经去世了,”勉强顺从的卡克说道。
“你们只要发一道命令,你们就将会有另一个现成的儿子,”船长说道,“一位懂科学的舅舅的外甥!所尔•吉尔斯的外甥!沃尔!已经在你们公司工作的那个沃尔!”船长继续说道,他逐渐接近结尾最精彩的引语:“他——每天从所尔•吉尔斯家中来到你们公司,投入你们的怀抱。”
船长每讲完上面每一句短句,都用胳膊肘轻轻地推一下卡克先生,这时他那自满自得的情绪,只有当他结束这段口若悬河、才华横溢的讲话,往椅背上一靠,注视着卡克先生时那欣喜若狂的神情才能超过。他这篇杰作正在脱胎而出的时候,他的宽大的蓝色背心鼓了起来,鼻子也由于同一个原因翕动着。
“我说得对吗?”船长问道。
“卡特尔船长,”卡克先生说道,同时以一种古怪的姿态把膝盖往下弯曲了片刻,仿佛他正要倒下,同时又用力支撑住自己似的:“您关于沃尔特•盖伊的意见是完全、绝对正确的。我明白,我们是在私下里交谈知心话”。
“我以名誉发誓!”船长打断他说,“一句也不是。”
“也不是讲给他或任何人听的吗?”经理接着问道。
卡特尔船长皱着眉头,摇摇头。
“只不过是为了使您自己能心安理得并能得到指导吧,”卡克先生说道,“我说的指导,自然是指您未来的行动能得到指导。”
“我确实很感谢您,”船长很注意地听着,说道。
“我毫不迟疑地说,那是事实。您已经准确地料到了可能发生的事情。”
“至于你们公司的老板,”船长说,“我们之间的会晤最好让它自然来到吧,有的是时间。”
卡克先生咧着嘴笑着,并重复说道,“有的是时间,”他没有把这几个字清晰地发出声来,而是和蔼可亲地垂下头,舌头和嘴唇轻轻地动了动。
“我明白——正像我过去经常说的,沃尔就要发迹了。”
“就要发迹了,”卡克先生用同样无声的方式重复说道。
“沃尔这次小小的航行,我可以说,属于他日常的工作范围,也是公司对他前程安排的一部分。”船长说。
“对他前程安排的一部分,”卡克先生同先前一样哑口无声。
“是呀,只要我了解这一点,”船长继续说道,“那就不必着急,我也可以放心了。”
卡克先生仍旧用同样无声的方式,彬彬有礼地表示同意,因此卡特尔船长坚信不疑,在他认识的人中,他是最容易和好相处的人当中的一位;甚至董贝先生以他为榜样,也会对自己的立身处世有所裨益。因此,船长很亲切地再一次伸出他的像老木料般的大手,给他紧紧一握,在他那比较光滑的皮肉上留下了船长手掌上大量裂缝和皱纹的印痕。
“再见!”船长说,“我不是个讲话爱长篇大论的人,但我很感谢您这么亲切友好和光明磊落。请原谅我打搅您了。”船长说。
“那里的话,”另一位回答说。
“谢谢您。我目前居住的地方不很宽敞,”船长又转过身来说,“但还相当舒适,您不论什么时候路过布里格广场,九号——请您是不是记一下?——不管开门的人说什么,您就上楼来,我将不胜荣幸地接待您。”
船长发出这个好客的邀请之后,说了声:“再见!”走出房间,关上门,留下卡克先生仍旧背靠着壁炉架。在他的狡猾的眼光和留神戒备的姿态中,在他的伸出而不带笑的虚伪的嘴巴中,在他的毫无污迹的领带和连鬓胡子中,甚至在他伸出柔嫩的手默默无声地抚摸雪白的衬衫和光滑的脸孔的动作中,都有一些像猫一样的东西。
蒙在鼓里的船长是在自我陶醉的状态中走出来的,连他那宽大的蓝外衣也受到这种情绪的影响,产生了一副新气派。“做好准备,内德!”船长自言自语说,“你今天给年轻人做了一点事情啦,我的孩子!”
船长怀着欢欣鼓舞的心情,怀着现在和将来跟公司亲近的感情,当走到外面的办公室时,情不自禁想嘲弄一下珀奇先生,问他是不是还认为每个人都很忙碌。但是船长不想对一位克尽职责的人刻薄,就在他耳边低声说,如果他愿意跟他一起去喝一杯搀水的朗姆酒的话,那么他将乐于招待他。
船长离开办公楼之前,从一个中心点环顾四周,对公司办公室进行了全面观察;他认为这个办公室是他年轻的朋友密切关心的事业的一个不可分割的部分;他这样做,使得公司的职员们多少感到有些惊奇。金库特别引起他的羡慕,但是,为了不显得小气,他仅仅赞许地粗看了一眼;接着,他彬彬有礼,露出恩人气派,端庄得体地向全体职员欠身行礼,表示感谢;然后走向庭院。珀奇先生很快就跟了上来;他就把这位先生领进小酒店,毫不迟延地履行了他的诺言,因为珀奇的时间是宝贵的。
“我建议为沃尔的健康干杯!”船长说道。
“为谁?”珀奇先生温顺地问道。
“沃尔!”船长用雷鸣般的大声重复道。
珀奇先生似乎记得在幼年时代听人说过,从前有一位诗人是姓这个姓的①,所以没有反对。但是他很奇怪,船长为什么到城里来建议为一位诗人的健康干杯;说真的,如果他建议在城市的一条大街上建立一位诗人(比方说,莎士比亚)的塑像,那还不至于超越珀奇先生的见闻。总之。他是一位十分神秘和莫测高深的人物,因此珀奇先生决定根本不向珀奇太太谈起他,以免发生任何不愉快的后果。
--------
①指英国诗人埃德蒙•沃勒(EdmundWaller,公元1606—1687年)。
船长怀着他已经为年轻人做了一点事情的愉快心情,甚至对他最亲密的朋友也整天保持着神秘和莫测高深的神态。沃尔特看到他眨巴着眼睛,露着牙齿笑,以及作出使自己心情轻松的其他哑剧性动作,以为他是因为他们不怀恶意地哄骗了老所尔•吉尔斯获得成功而感到沾沾自喜;要不是这样,他肯定不到夜间就会露出马脚。可是事实上,他还是把秘密保守住了;当他很晚离开仪器制造商的房屋回家去时,他把那顶上了光的帽子歪戴在一边,眼睛流露出喜气洋洋的神色,麦克斯适杰太太(她可能是从布林伯博士的学校中教养出来的,因为她是那么像古罗马的家庭主妇)从敞开的临街的正门后面一看见他,就立刻采取了防御的姿态,没有像她那些天真可爱的幼儿们所期待的那样走出来,直到他确实已在自己的房间里安顿下来为止。
慕若涵

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Chapter 18
Father and Daughter

There is a hush through Mr Dombey's house. Servants gliding up and down stairs rustle, but make no sound of footsteps. They talk together constantly, and sit long at meals, making much of their meat and drink, and enjoying themselves after a grim unholy fashion. Mrs Wickam, with her eyes suffused with tears, relates melancholy anecdotes; and tells them how she always said at Mrs Pipchin's that it would be so, and takes more table-ale than usual, and is very sorry but sociable. Cook's state of mind is similar. She promises a little fry for supper, and struggles about equally against her feelings and the onions. Towlinson begins to think there's a fate in it, and wants to know if anybody can tell him ofany good that ever came of living in a corner house. It seems to all of them as having happened a long time ago; though yet the child lies, calm and beautiful, upon his little bed.
After dark there come some visitors - noiseless visitors, with shoes of felt - who have been there before; and with them comes that bed of rest which is so strange a one for infant sleepers. All this time, the bereaved father has not been seen even by his attendant; for he sits in an inner corner of his own dark room when anyone is there, and never seems to move at other times, except to pace it to and fro. But in the morning it is whispered among the household that he was heard to go upstairs in the dead night, and that he stayed there - in the room - until the sun was shining.
At the offices in the City, the ground-glass windows are made more dim by shutters; and while the lighted lamps upon the desks are half extinguished by the day that wanders in, the day is half extinguished by the lamps, and an unusual gloom prevails. There is not much business done. The clerks are indisposed to work; and they make assignations to eat chops in the afternoon, and go up the river. Perch, the messenger, stays long upon his errands; and finds himself in bars of public-houses, invited thither by friends, and holding forth on the uncertainty of human affairs. He goes home to Ball's Pond earlier in the evening than usual, and treats Mrs Perch to a veal cutlet and Scotch ale. Mr Carker the Manager treats no one; neither is he treated; but alone in his own room he shows his teeth all day; and it would seem that there is something gone from Mr Carker's path - some obstacle removed - which clears his way before him.
Now the rosy children living opposite to Mr Dombey's house, peep from their nursery windows down into the street; for there are four black horses at his door, with feathers on their heads; and feathers tremble on the carriage that they draw; and these, and an array of men with scarves and staves, attract a crowd. The juggler who was going to twirl the basin, puts his loose coat on again over his fine dress; and his trudging wife, one-sided with her heavy baby in her arms, loiters to see the company come out. But closer to her dingy breast she presses her baby, when the burden that is so easily carried is borne forth; and the youngest of the rosy children at the high window opposite, needs no restraining hand to check her in her glee, when, pointing with her dimpled finger, she looks into her nurse's face, and asks 'What's that?'
And now, among the knot of servants dressed in mourning, and the weeping women, Mr Dombey passes through the hall to the other carriage that is waiting to receive him. He is not 'brought down,' these observers think, by sorrow and distress of mind. His walk is as erect, his bearing is as stiff as ever it has been. He hides his face behind no handkerchief, and looks before him. But that his face is something sunk and rigid, and is pale, it bears the same expression as of old. He takes his place within the carriage, and three other gentlemen follow. Then the grand funeral moves slowly down the street. The feathers are yet nodding in the distance, when the juggler has the basin spinning on a cane, and has the same crowd to admire it. But the juggler's wife is less alert than usual with the money-box, for a child's burial has set her thinking that perhaps the baby underneath her shabby shawl may not grow up to be a man, and wear a sky-blue fillet round his head, and salmon-coloured worsted drawers, and tumble in the mud.
The feathers wind their gloomy way along the streets, and come within the sound of a church bell. In this same church, the pretty boy received all that will soon be left of him on earth - a name. All of him that is dead, they lay there, near the perishable substance of his mother. It is well. Their ashes lie where Florence in her walks - oh lonely, lonely walks! - may pass them any day.
The service over, and the clergyman withdrawn, Mr Dombey looks round, demanding in a low voice, whether the person who has been requested to attend to receive instructions for the tablet, is there?
Someone comes forward, and says 'Yes.'
Mr Dombey intimates where he would have it placed; and shows him, with his hand upon the wall, the shape and size; and how it is to follow the memorial to the mother. Then, with his pencil, he writes out the inscription, and gives it to him: adding, 'I wish to have it done at once.
'It shall be done immediately, Sir.'
'There is really nothing to inscribe but name and age, you see.'
The man bows, glancing at the paper, but appears to hesitate. Mr Dombey not observing his hesitation, turns away, and leads towards the porch.
'I beg your pardon, Sir;' a touch falls gently on his mourning cloak; 'but as you wish it done immediately, and it may be put in hand when I get back - '
'Well?'
'Will you be so good as read it over again? I think there's a mistake.'
'Where?'
The statuary gives him back the paper, and points out, with his pocket rule, the words, 'beloved and only child.'
'It should be, "son," I think, Sir?'
'You are right. Of course. Make the correction.'
The father, with a hastier step, pursues his way to the coach. When the other three, who follow closely, take their seats, his face is hidden for the first time - shaded by his cloak. Nor do they see it any more that day. He alights first, and passes immediately into his own room. The other mourners (who are only Mr Chick, and two of the medical attendants) proceed upstairs to the drawing-room, to be received by Mrs Chick and Miss Tox. And what the face is, in the shut-up chamber underneath: or what the thoughts are: what the heart is, what the contest or the suffering: no one knows.
The chief thing that they know, below stairs, in the kitchen, is that 'it seems like Sunday.' They can hardly persuade themselves but that there is something unbecoming, if not wicked, in the conduct of the people out of doors, who pursue their ordinary occupations, and wear their everyday attire. It is quite a novelty to have the blinds up, and the shutters open; and they make themselves dismally comfortable over bottles of wine, which are freely broached as on a festival. They are much inclined to moralise. Mr Towlinson proposes with a sigh, 'Amendment to us all!' for which, as Cook says with another sigh, 'There's room enough, God knows.' In the evening, Mrs Chick and Miss Tox take to needlework again. In the evening also, Mr Towlinson goes out to take the air, accompanied by the housemaid, who has not yet tried her mourning bonnet. They are very tender to each other at dusky street-corners, and Towlinson has visions of leading an altered and blameless existence as a serious greengrocer in Oxford Market.
There is sounder sleep and deeper rest in Mr Dombey's house tonight, than there has been for many nights. The morning sun awakens the old household, settled down once more in their old ways. The rosy children opposite run past with hoops. There is a splendid wedding in the church. The juggler's wife is active with the money-box in another quarter of the town. The mason sings and whistles as he chips out P-A-U-L in the marble slab before him.
And can it be that in a world so full and busy, the loss of one weak creature makes a void in any heart, so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of vast eternity can fill it up! Florence, in her innocent affliction, might have answered, 'Oh my brother, oh my dearly loved and loving brother! Only friend and companion of my slighted childhood! Could any less idea shed the light already dawning on your early grave, or give birth to the softened sorrow that is springing into life beneath this rain of tears!'
'My dear child,' said Mrs Chick, who held it as a duty incumbent on her, to improve the occasion, 'when you are as old as I am - '
'Which will be the prime of life,' observed Miss Tox.
'You will then,' pursued Mrs Chick, gently squeezing Miss Tox's hand in acknowledgment of her friendly remark, 'you will then know that all grief is unavailing, and that it is our duty to submit.'
'I will try, dear aunt I do try,' answered Florence, sobbing.
'I am glad to hear it,' said Mrs Chick, 'because; my love, as our dear Miss Tox - of whose sound sense and excellent judgment, there cannot possibly be two opinions - '
'My dear Louisa, I shall really be proud, soon,' said Miss Tox
- 'will tell you, and confirm by her experience,' pursued Mrs Chick, 'we are called upon on all occasions to make an effort It is required of us. If any - my dear,' turning to Miss Tox, 'I want a word. Mis- Mis-'
'Demeanour?' suggested Miss Tox.
'No, no, no,' said Mrs Chic 'How can you! Goodness me, it's on, the end of my tongue. Mis-'
Placed affection?' suggested Miss Tox, timidly.
'Good gracious, Lucretia!' returned Mrs Chick 'How very monstrous! Misanthrope, is the word I want. The idea! Misplaced affection! I say, if any misanthrope were to put, in my presence, the question "Why were we born?" I should reply, "To make an effort"'
'Very good indeed,' said Miss Tox, much impressed by the originality of the sentiment 'Very good.'
'Unhappily,' pursued Mrs Chick, 'we have a warning under our own eyes. We have but too much reason to suppose, my dear child, that if an effort had been made in time, in this family, a train of the most trying and distressing circumstances might have been avoided. Nothing shall ever persuade me,' observed the good matron, with a resolute air, 'but that if that effort had been made by poor dear Fanny, the poor dear darling child would at least have had a stronger constitution.'
Mrs Chick abandoned herself to her feelings for half a moment; but, as a practical illustration of her doctrine, brought herself up short, in the middle of a sob, and went on again.
'Therefore, Florence, pray let us see that you have some strength of mind, and do not selfishly aggravate the distress in which your poor Papa is plunged.'
'Dear aunt!' said Florence, kneeling quickly down before her, that she might the better and more earnestly look into her face. 'Tell me more about Papa. Pray tell me about him! Is he quite heartbroken?'
Miss Tox was of a tender nature, and there was something in this appeal that moved her very much. Whether she saw it in a succession, on the part of the neglected child, to the affectionate concern so often expressed by her dead brother - or a love that sought to twine itself about the heart that had loved him, and that could not bear to be shut out from sympathy with such a sorrow, in such sad community of love and grief - or whether the only recognised the earnest and devoted spirit which, although discarded and repulsed, was wrung with tenderness long unreturned, and in the waste and solitude of this bereavement cried to him to seek a comfort in it, and to give some, by some small response - whatever may have been her understanding of it, it moved Miss Tox. For the moment she forgot the majesty of Mrs Chick, and, patting Florence hastily on the cheek, turned aside and suffered the tears to gush from her eyes, without waiting for a lead from that wise matron.
Mrs Chick herself lost, for a moment, the presence of mind on which she so much prided herself; and remained mute, looking on the beautiful young face that had so long, so steadily, and patiently, been turned towards the little bed. But recovering her voice - which was synonymous with her presence of mind, indeed they were one and the same thing - she replied with dignity:
'Florence, my dear child, your poor Papa is peculiar at times; and to question me about him, is to question me upon a subject which I really do not pretend to understand. I believe I have as much influence with your Papa as anybody has. Still, all I can say is, that he has said very little to me; and that I have only seen him once or twice for a minute at a time, and indeed have hardly seen him then, for his room has been dark. I have said to your Papa, "Paul!" - that is the exact expression I used - "Paul! why do you not take something stimulating?" Your Papa's reply has always been, "Louisa, have the goodness to leave me. I want nothing. I am better by myself." If I was to be put upon my oath to-morrow, Lucretia, before a magistrate,' said Mrs Chick, 'I have no doubt I could venture to swear to those identical words.'
Miss Tox expressed her admiration by saying, 'My Louisa is ever methodical!'
'In short, Florence,' resumed her aunt, 'literally nothing has passed between your poor Papa and myself, until to-day; when I mentioned to your Papa that Sir Barnet and Lady Skettles had written exceedingly kind notes - our sweet boy! Lady Skettles loved him like a - where's my pocket handkerchief?'
Miss Tox produced one.
'Exceedingly kind notes, proposing that you should visit them for change of scene. Mentioning to your Papa that I thought Miss Tox and myself might now go home (in which he quite agreed), I inquired if he had any objection to your accepting this invitation. He said, "No, Louisa, not the least!"' Florence raised her tearful eye
'At the same time, if you would prefer staying here, Florence, to paying this visit at present, or to going home with me - '
'I should much prefer it, aunt,' was the faint rejoinder.
'Why then, child,'said Mrs Chick, 'you can. It's a strange choice, I must say. But you always were strange. Anybody else at your time of life, and after what has passed - my dear Miss Tox, I have lost my pocket handkerchief again - would be glad to leave here, one would suppose.
'I should not like to feel,' said Florence, 'as if the house was avoided. I should not like to think that the - his - the rooms upstairs were quite empty and dreary, aunt. I would rather stay here, for the present. Oh my brother! oh my brother!'
It was a natural emotion, not to be suppressed; and it would make way even between the fingers of the hands with which she covered up her face. The overcharged and heavy-laden breast must some times have that vent, or the poor wounded solitary heart within it would have fluttered like a bird with broken wings, and sunk down in the dust'
'Well, child!' said Mrs Chick, after a pause 'I wouldn't on any account say anything unkind to you, and that I'm sure you know. You will remain here, then, and do exactly as you like. No one will interfere with you, Florence, or wish to interfere with you, I'm sure.
Florence shook her head in sad assent'
'I had no sooner begun to advise your poor Papa that he really ought to seek some distraction and restoration in a temporary change,' said Mrs Chick, 'than he told me he had already formed the intention of going into the country for a short time. I'm sure I hope he'll go very soon. He can't go too soon. But I suppose there are some arrangements connected with his private papers and so forth, consequent on the affliction that has tried us all so much - I can't think what's become of mine: Lucretia, lend me yours, my dear - that may occupy him for one or two evenings in his own room. Your Papa's a Dombey, child, if ever there was one,' said Mrs Chick, drying both her eyes at once with great care on opposite corners of Miss Tox's handkerchief 'He'll make an effort. There's no fear of him.'
'Is there nothing, aunt,' said Florence, trembling, 'I might do to -
'Lord, my dear child,' interposed Mrs Chick, hastily, 'what are you talking about? If your Papa said to Me - I have given you his exact words, "Louisa, I want nothing; I am better by myself" - what do you think he'd say to you? You mustn't show yourself to him, child. Don't dream of such a thing.'
'Aunt,' said Florence, 'I will go and lie down on my bed.'
Mrs Chick approved of this resolution, and dismissed her with a kiss. But Miss Tox, on a faint pretence of looking for the mislaid handkerchief, went upstairs after her; and tried in a few stolen minutes to comfort her, in spite of great discouragement from Susan Nipper. For Miss Nipper, in her burning zeal, disparaged Miss Tox as a crocodile; yet her sympathy seemed genuine, and had at least the vantage-ground of disinterestedness - there was little favour to be won by it.
And was there no one nearer and dearer than Susan, to uphold the striving heart in its anguish? Was there no other neck to clasp; no other face to turn to? no one else to say a soothing word to such deep sorrow? Was Florence so alone in the bleak world that nothing else remained to her? Nothing. Stricken motherless and brotherless at once - for in the loss of little Paul, that first and greatest loss fell heavily upon her - this was the only help she had. Oh, who can tell how much she needed help at first!
At first, when the house subsided into its accustomed course, and they had all gone away, except the servants, and her father shut up in his own rooms, Florence could do nothing but weep, and wander up and down, and sometimes, in a sudden pang of desolate remembrance, fly to her own chamber, wring her hands, lay her face down on her bed, and know no consolation: nothing but the bitterness and cruelty of grief. This commonly ensued upon the recognition of some spot or object very tenderly dated with him; and it made the ale house, at first, a place of agony.
But it is not in the nature of pure love to burn so fiercely and unkindly long. The flame that in its grosser composition has the taint of earth may prey upon the breast that gives it shelter; but the fire from heaven is as gentle in the heart, as when it rested on the heads of the assembled twelve, and showed each man his brother, brightened and unhurt. The image conjured up, there soon returned the placid face, the softened voice, the loving looks, the quiet trustfulness and peace; and Florence, though she wept still, wept more tranquilly, and courted the remembrance.
It was not very long before the golden water, dancing on the wall, in the old place, at the old serene time, had her calm eye fixed upon it as it ebbed away. It was not very long before that room again knew her, often; sitting there alone, as patient and as mild as when she had watched beside the little bed. When any sharp sense of its being empty smote upon her, she could kneel beside it, and pray GOD - it was the pouring out of her full heart - to let one angel love her and remember her.
It was not very long before, in the midst of the dismal house so wide and dreary, her low voice in the twilight, slowly and stopping sometimes, touched the old air to which he had so often listened, with his drooping head upon her arm. And after that, and when it was quite dark, a little strain of music trembled in the room: so softly played and sung, that it was more lIke the mournful recollection of what she had done at his request on that last night, than the reality repeated. But it was repeated, often - very often, in the shadowy solitude; and broken murmurs of the strain still trembled on the keys, when the sweet voice was hushed in tears.
Thus she gained heart to look upon the work with which her fingers had been busy by his side on the sea-shore; and thus it was not very long before she took to it again - with something of a human love for it, as if it had been sentient and had known him; and, sitting in a window, near her mother's picture, in the unused room so long deserted, wore away the thoughtful hours.
Why did the dark eyes turn so often from this work to where the rosy children lived? They were not immediate!y suggestive of her loss; for they were all girls: four little sisters. But they were motherless like her - and had a father.
It was easy to know when he had gone out and was expected home, for the elder child was always dressed and waiting for him at the drawing-room window, or n the balcony; and when he appeared, her expectant face lighted up with joy, while the others at the high window, and always on the watch too, clapped their hands, and drummed them on the sill, and called to him. The elder child would come down to the hall, and put her hand in his, and lead him up the stairs; and Florence would see her afterwards sitting by his side, or on his knee, or hanging coaxingly about his neck and talking to him: and though they were always gay together, he would often watch her face as if he thought her like her mother that was dead. Florence would sometimes look no more at this, and bursting into tears would hide behind the curtain as if she were frightened, or would hurry from the window. Yet she could not help returning; and her work would soon fall unheeded from her hands again.
It was the house that had been empty, years ago. It had remained so for a long time. At last, and while she had been away from home, this family had taken it; and it was repaired and newly painted; and there were birds and flowers about it; and it looked very different from its old self. But she never thought of the house. The children and their father were all in all.
When he had dined, she could see them, through the open windows, go down with their governess or nurse, and cluster round the table; and in the still summer weather, the sound of their childish voices and clear laughter would come ringing across the street, into the drooping air of the room in which she sat. Then they would climb and clamber upstairs with him, and romp about him on the sofa, or group themselves at his knee, a very nosegay of little faces, while he seemed to tell them some story. Or they would come running out into the balcony; and then Florence would hide herself quickly, lest it should check them in their joy, to see her in her black dress, sitting there alone.
The elder child remained with her father when the rest had gone away, and made his tea for him - happy little house-keeper she was then! - and sat conversing with him, sometimes at the window, sometimes in the room, until the candles came. He made her his companion, though she was some years younger than Florence; and she could be as staid and pleasantly demure, with her little book or work-box, as a woman. When they had candles, Florence from her own dark room was not afraid to look again. But when the time came for the child to say 'Good-night, Papa,' and go to bed, Florence would sob and tremble as she raised her face to him, and could look no more.
Though still she would turn, again and again, before going to bed herself from the simple air that had lulled him to rest so often, long ago, and from the other low soft broken strain of music, back to that house. But that she ever thought of it, or watched it, was a secret which she kept within her own young breast.
And did that breast of Florence - Florence, so ingenuous and true - so worthy of the love that he had borne her, and had whispered in his last faint words - whose guileless heart was mirrored in the beauty of her face, and breathed in every accent of her gentle voice - did that young breast hold any other secret? Yes. One more.
When no one in the house was stirring, and the lights were all extinguished, she would softly leave her own room, and with noiseless feet descend the staircase, and approach her father's door. Against it, scarcely breathing, she would rest her face and head, and press her lips, in the yearning of her love. She crouched upon the cold stone floor outside it, every night, to listen even for his breath; and in her one absorbing wish to be allowed to show him some affection, to be a consolation to him, to win him over to the endurance of some tenderness from her, his solitary child, she would have knelt down at his feet, if she had dared, in humble supplication.
No one knew it' No one thought of it. The door was ever closed, and he shut up within. He went out once or twice, and it was said in the house that he was very soon going on his country journey; but he lived in those rooms, and lived alone, and never saw her, or inquired for her. Perhaps he did not even know that she was in the house.
One day, about a week after the funeral, Florence was sitting at her work, when Susan appeared, with a face half laughing and half crying, to announce a visitor.
'A visitor! To me, Susan!' said Florence, looking up in astonishment.
'Well, it is a wonder, ain't it now, Miss Floy?' said Susan; 'but I wish you had a many visitors, I do, indeed, for you'd be all the better for it, and it's my opinion that the sooner you and me goes even to them old Skettleses, Miss, the better for both, I may not wish to live in crowds, Miss Floy, but still I'm not a oyster.'
To do Miss Nipper justice, she spoke more for her young mistress than herself; and her face showed it.
'But the visitor, Susan,' said Florence.
Susan, with an hysterical explosion that was as much a laugh as a sob, and as much a sob as a laugh, answered,
'Mr Toots!'
The smile that appeared on Florence's face passed from it in a moment, and her eyes filled with tears. But at any rate it was a smile, and that gave great satisfaction to Miss Nipper.
'My own feelings exactly, Miss Floy,' said Susan, putting her apron to her eyes, and shaking her head. 'Immediately I see that Innocent in the Hall, Miss Floy, I burst out laughing first, and then I choked.'
Susan Nipper involuntarily proceeded to do the like again on the spot. In the meantime Mr Toots, who had come upstairs after her, all unconscious of the effect he produced, announced himself with his knuckles on the door, and walked in very brisKly.
'How d'ye do, Miss Dombey?' said Mr Toots. 'I'm very well, I thank you; how are you?'
Mr Toots - than whom there were few better fellows in the world, though there may have been one or two brighter spirits - had laboriously invented this long burst of discourse with the view of relieving the feelings both of Florence and himself. But finding that he had run through his property, as it were, in an injudicious manner, by squandering the whole before taking a chair, or before Florence had uttered a word, or before he had well got in at the door, he deemed it advisable to begin again.
'How d'ye do, Miss Dombey?' said Mr Toots. 'I'm very well, I thank you; how are you?'
Florence gave him her hand, and said she was very well.
'I'm very well indeed,' said Mr Toots, taking a chair. 'Very well indeed, I am. I don't remember,' said Mr Toots, after reflecting a little, 'that I was ever better, thank you.'
'It's very kind of you to come,' said Florence, taking up her work, 'I am very glad to see you.'
Mr Toots responded with a chuckle. Thinking that might be too lively, he corrected it with a sigh. Thinking that might be too melancholy, he corrected it with a chuckle. Not thoroughly pleasing himself with either mode of reply, he breathed hard.
'You were very kind to my dear brother,' said Florence, obeying her own natural impulse to relieve him by saying so. 'He often talked to me about you.'
'Oh it's of no consequence,' said Mr Toots hastily. 'Warm, ain't it?'
'It is beautiful weather,' replied Florence.
'It agrees with me!' said Mr Toots. 'I don't think I ever was so well as I find myself at present, I'm obliged to you.
After stating this curious and unexpected fact, Mr Toots fell into a deep well of silence.
'You have left Dr Blimber's, I think?' said Florence, trying to help him out.
'I should hope so,' returned Mr Toots. And tumbled in again.
He remained at the bottom, apparently drowned, for at least ten minutes. At the expiration of that period, he suddenly floated, and said,
'Well! Good morning, Miss Dombey.'
'Are you going?' asked Florence, rising.
'I don't know, though. No, not just at present,' said Mr Toots, sitting down again, most unexpectedly. 'The fact is - I say, Miss Dombey!'
'Don't be afraid to speak to me,' said Florence, with a quiet smile, 'I should he very glad if you would talk about my brother.'
'Would you, though?' retorted Mr Toots, with sympathy in every fibre of his otherwise expressionless face. 'Poor Dombey! I'm sure I never thought that Burgess and Co. - fashionable tailors (but very dear), that we used to talk about - would make this suit of clothes for such a purpose.' Mr Toots was dressed in mourning. 'Poor Dombey! I say! Miss Dombey!' blubbered Toots.
'Yes,' said Florence.
'There's a friend he took to very much at last. I thought you'd lIke to have him, perhaps, as a sort of keepsake. You remember his remembering Diogenes?'
'Oh yes! oh yes' cried Florence.
'Poor Dombey! So do I,' said Mr Toots.
Mr Toots, seeing Florence in tears, had great difficulty in getting beyond this point, and had nearly tumbled into the well again. But a chucKle saved him on the brink.
'I say,' he proceeded, 'Miss Dombey! I could have had him stolen for ten shillings, if they hadn't given him up: and I would: but they were glad to get rid of him, I think. If you'd like to have him, he's at the door. I brought him on purpose for you. He ain't a lady's dog, you know,' said Mr Toots, 'but you won't mind that, will you?'
In fact, Diogenes was at that moment, as they presently ascertained from looking down into the street, staring through the window of a hackney cabriolet, into which, for conveyance to that spot, he had been ensnared, on a false pretence of rats among the straw. Sooth to say, he was as unlike a lady's dog as might be; and in his gruff anxiety to get out, presented an appearance sufficiently unpromising, as he gave short yelps out of one side of his mouth, and overbalancing himself by the intensity of every one of those efforts, tumbled down into the straw, and then sprung panting up again, putting out his tongue, as if he had come express to a Dispensary to be examined for his health.
But though Diogenes was as ridiculous a dog as one would meet with on a summer's day; a blundering, ill-favoured, clumsy, bullet-headed dog, continually acting on a wrong idea that there was an enemy in the neighbourhood, whom it was meritorious to bark at; and though he was far from good-tempered, and certainly was not clever, and had hair all over his eyes, and a comic nose, and an inconsistent tail, and a gruff voice; he was dearer to Florence, in virtue of that parting remembrance of him, and that request that he might be taken care of, than the most valuable and beautiful of his kind. So dear, indeed, was this same ugly Diogenes, and so welcome to her, that she took the jewelled hand of Mr Toots and kissed it in her gratitude. And when Diogenes, released, came tearing up the stairs and bouncing into the room (such a business as there was, first, to get him out of the cabriolet!), dived under all the furniture, and wound a long iron chain, that dangled from his neck, round legs of chairs and tables, and then tugged at it until his eyes became unnaturally visible, in consequence of their nearly starting out of his head; and when he growled at Mr Toots, who affected familiarity; and went pell-mell at Towlinson, morally convinced that he was the enemy whom he had barked at round the corner all his life and had never seen yet; Florence was as pleased with him as if he had been a miracle of discretion.
Mr Toots was so overjoyed by the success of his present, and was so delighted to see Florence bending down over Diogenes, smoothing his coarse back with her little delicate hand - Diogenes graciously allowing it from the first moment of their acquaintance - that he felt it difficult to take leave, and would, no doubt, have been a much longer time in making up his mind to do so, if he had not been assisted by Diogenes himself, who suddenly took it into his head to bay Mr Toots, and to make short runs at him with his mouth open. Not exactly seeing his way to the end of these demonstrations, and sensible that they placed the pantaloons constructed by the art of Burgess and Co. in jeopardy, Mr Toots, with chuckles, lapsed out at the door: by which, after looking in again two or three times, without any object at all, and being on each occasion greeted with a fresh run from Diogenes, he finally took himself off and got away.
'Come, then, Di! Dear Di! Make friends with your new mistress. Let us love each other, Di!'said Florence, fondling his shaggy head. And Di, the rough and gruff, as if his hairy hide were pervious to the tear that dropped upon it, and his dog's heart melted as it fell, put his nose up to her face, and swore fidelity.
Diogenes the man did not speak plainer to Alexander the Great than Diogenes the dog spoke to Florence.' He subscribed to the offer of his little mistress cheerfully, and devoted himself to her service. A banquet was immediately provided for him in a corner; and when he had eaten and drunk his fill, he went to the window where Florence was sitting, looking on, rose up on his hind legs, with his awkward fore paws on her shoulders, licked her face and hands, nestled his great head against her heart, and wagged his tail till he was tired. Finally, Diogenes coiled himself up at her feet and went to sleep.
Although Miss Nipper was nervous in regard of dogs, and felt it necessary to come into the room with her skirts carefully collected about her, as if she were crossing a brook on stepping-stones; also to utter little screams and stand up on chairs when Diogenes stretched himself, she was in her own manner affected by the kindness of Mr Toots, and could not see Florence so alive to the attachment and society of this rude friend of little Paul's, without some mental comments thereupon that brought the water to her eyes. Mr Dombey, as a part of her reflections, may have been, in the association of ideas, connected with the dog; but, at any rate, after observing Diogenes and his mistress all the evening, and after exerting herself with much good-will to provide Diogenes a bed in an ante-chamber outside his mistress's door, she said hurriedly to Florence, before leaving her for the night:
'Your Pa's a going off, Miss Floy, tomorrow morning.'
'To-morrow morning, Susan?'
'Yes, Miss; that's the orders. Early.'
'Do you know,' asked Florence, without looking at her, 'where Papa is going, Susan?'
'Not exactly, Miss. He's going to meet that precious Major first, and I must say if I was acquainted with any Major myself (which Heavens forbid), it shouldn't be a blue one!'
'Hush, Susan!' urged Florence gently.
'Well, Miss Floy,' returned Miss Nipper, who was full of burning indignation, and minded her stops even less than usual. 'I can't help it, blue he is, and while I was a Christian, although humble, I would have natural-coloured friends, or none.'
It appeared from what she added and had gleaned downstairs, that Mrs Chick had proposed the Major for Mr Dombey's companion, and that Mr Dombey, after some hesitation, had invited him.
'Talk of him being a change, indeed!' observed Miss Nipper to herself with boundless contempt. 'If he's a change, give me a constancy.
'Good-night, Susan,' said Florence.
'Good-night, my darling dear Miss Floy.'
Her tone of commiseration smote the chord so often roughly touched, but never listened to while she or anyone looked on. Florence left alone, laid her head upon her hand, and pressing the other over her swelling heart, held free communication with her sorrows.
It was a wet night; and the melancholy rain fell pattering and dropping with a weary sound. A sluggish wind was blowing, and went moaning round the house, as if it were in pain or grief. A shrill noise quivered through the trees. While she sat weeping, it grew late, and dreary midnight tolled out from the steeples.
Florence was little more than a child in years - not yet fourteen- and the loneliness and gloom of such an hour in the great house where Death had lately made its own tremendous devastation, might have set an older fancy brooding on vague terrors. But her innocent imagination was too full of one theme to admit them. Nothing wandered in her thoughts but love - a wandering love, indeed, and castaway - but turning always to her father. There was nothing in the dropping of the rain, the moaning of the wind, the shuddering of the trees, the striking of the solemn clocks, that shook this one thought, or diminished its interest' Her recollections of the dear dead boy - and they were never absent - were itself, the same thing. And oh, to be shut out: to be so lost: never to have looked into her father's face or touched him, since that hour!
She could not go to bed, poor child, and never had gone yet, since then, without making her nightly pilgrimage to his door. It would have been a strange sad sight, to see her' now, stealing lightly down the stairs through the thick gloom, and stopping at it with a beating heart, and blinded eyes, and hair that fell down loosely and unthought of; and touching it outside with her wet cheek. But the night covered it, and no one knew.
The moment that she touched the door on this night, Florence found that it was open. For the first time it stood open, though by but a hair's-breadth: and there was a light within. The first impulse of the timid child - and she yielded to it - was to retire swiftly. Her next, to go back, and to enter; and this second impulse held her in irresolution on the staircase.
In its standing open, even by so much as that chink, there seemed to be hope. There was encouragement in seeing a ray of light from within, stealing through the dark stern doorway, and falling in a thread upon the marble floor. She turned back, hardly knowing what she did, but urged on by the love within her, and the trial they had undergone together, but not shared: and with her hands a little raised and trembling, glided in.
Her father sat at his old table in the middle room. He had been arranging some papers, and destroying others, and the latter lay in fragile ruins before him. The rain dripped heavily upon the glass panes in the outer room, where he had so often watched poor Paul, a baby; and the low complainings of the wind were heard without.
But not by him. He sat with his eyes fixed on the table, so immersed in thought, that a far heavier tread than the light foot of his child could make, might have failed to rouse him. His face was turned towards her. By the waning lamp, and at that haggard hour, it looked worn and dejected; and in the utter loneliness surrounding him, there was an appeal to Florence that struck home.
'Papa! Papa! speak to me, dear Papa!'
He started at her voice, and leaped up from his seat. She was close before him' with extended arms, but he fell back.
'What is the matter?' he said, sternly. 'Why do you come here? What has frightened you?'
If anything had frightened her, it was the face he turned upon her. The glowing love within the breast of his young daughter froze before it, and she stood and looked at him as if stricken into stone.
There was not one touch of tenderness or pity in it. There was not one gleam of interest, parental recognition, or relenting in it. There was a change in it, but not of that kind. The old indifference and cold constraint had given place to something: what, she never thought and did not dare to think, and yet she felt it in its force, and knew it well without a name: that as it looked upon her, seemed to cast a shadow on her head.
Did he see before him the successful rival of his son, in health and life? Did he look upon his own successful rival in that son's affection? Did a mad jealousy and withered pride, poison sweet remembrances that should have endeared and made her precious to him? Could it be possible that it was gall to him to look upon her in her beauty and her promise: thinking of his infant boy!
Florence had no such thoughts. But love is quick to know when it is spurned and hopeless: and hope died out of hers, as she stood looking in her father's face.
'I ask you, Florence, are you frightened? Is there anything the matter, that you come here?'
'I came, Papa - '
'Against my wishes. Why?'
She saw he knew why: it was written broadly on his face: and dropped her head upon her hands with one prolonged low cry.
Let him remember it in that room, years to come. It has faded from the air, before he breaks the silence. It may pass as quickly from his brain, as he believes, but it is there. Let him remember it in that room, years to come!
He took her by the arm. His hand was cold, and loose, and scarcely closed upon her.
'You are tired, I daresay,' he said, taking up the light, and leading her towards the door, 'and want rest. We all want rest. Go, Florence. You have been dreaming.'
The dream she had had, was over then, God help her! and she felt that it could never more come back
'I will remain here to light you up the stairs. The whole house is yours above there,' said her father, slowly. 'You are its mistress now. Good-night!'
Still covering her face, she sobbed, and answered 'Good-night, dear Papa,' and silently ascended. Once she looked back as if she would have returned to him, but for fear. It was a mommentary thought, too hopeless to encourage; and her father stood there with the light - hard, unresponsive, motionless - until the fluttering dress of his fair child was lost in the darkness.
Let him remember it in that room, years to come. The rain that falls upon the roof: the wind that mourns outside the door: may have foreknowledge in their melancholy sound. Let him remember it in that room, years to come!
The last time he had watched her, from the same place, winding up those stairs, she had had her brother in her arms. It did not move his heart towards her now, it steeled it: but he went into his room, and locked his door, and sat down in his chair, and cried for his lost boy.
Diogenes was broad awake upon his post, and waiting for his little mistress.
'Oh, Di! Oh, dear Di! Love me for his sake!'
Diogenes already loved her for her own, and didn't care how much he showed it. So he made himself vastly ridiculous by performing a variety of uncouth bounces in the ante-chamber, and concluded, when poor Florence was at last asleep, and dreaming of the rosy children opposite, by scratching open her bedroom door: rolling up his bed into a pillow: lying down on the boards, at the full length of his tether, with his head towards her: and looking lazily at her, upside down, out of the tops of his eyes, until from winking and winking he fell asleep himself, and dreamed, with gruff barks, of his enemy.
董贝先生的公馆中一片寂静。仆人们蹑手蹑脚地、窸窸窣窣地上楼、下楼,不让脚步发出响声。他们聚在一起没完没了地聊天,长时间地坐着用餐,尽情吃喝,仿照那种冷酷无情、不信鬼神的习俗来享受乐趣。威肯姆大嫂眼泪汪汪,叙述着忧伤的往事;她跟他们说,她在皮普钦太太那里就经常说,将来会发生这样的结果;餐桌上的浓啤酒她比平时喝得更多;她很忧愁,但爱和人交谈。厨娘的心情也相似。她答应晚餐做些油炸的食品,并作出同等的努力来克制自己的感伤和忍住洋葱的气味。托林森开始觉得这是命中注定;他希望有人能告诉他,居住在坐落于街道拐角的房屋里能有什么好处。他们全都觉得,这似乎是好久以前发生的事情了,虽然那孩子还依旧安安静静、漂漂亮亮地躺在他的小床上。
天黑以后来了几个人,他们穿着毡鞋,默不作声,以前就曾经到这里来过。随着他们来的是一张安息的床,这是一张多么奇怪的给孩子睡眠的床啊!失去孩子的父亲一直没有露面,甚至连侍候他的仆人也一直见不到他;因为不论是谁进入他的黑暗的房间,他总是坐在最里面的一个角落里,除了来回踱步外,其他时间似乎就从来不曾移动过身体。可是家里的人们早上都在交头接耳,窃窃私语说,他们听到他深夜走上楼去,待在那里——待在房间里——,直到太阳升起为止。
在城里公司的办公室里,由于关上百叶窗,毛玻璃的窗子更为暗淡;当办公桌上的灯光被悄悄透进的亮光冲淡一半,而白天的亮光又被灯光冲淡一半时,房间里笼罩着一种不寻常的幽暗。没有办理多少业务。职员们不愿工作;他们约好下午出去吃排骨,并到河上游逛。信差珀奇磨磨蹭蹭地执行他的差事;他被朋友们邀请到酒吧,在那里高谈阔论,感叹人事的变化无常。晚上他比往常提早回到鲍尔斯池塘家里,请珀奇太太吃小牛肉片和喝苏格兰浓啤酒。经理卡克先生没有宴请别人,也没有别人宴请他,而是独自待在自己的办公室里,整天露着牙齿;似乎在卡克先生的道路上有个什么东西消失了——有个什么障碍被搬除了,他前面的道路已经被扫清了。
住在董贝先生家对面的脸色红润的孩子们这时从他们育儿室的窗口向下面的街道探望,因为在董贝先生家的门口有四匹黑马,马头上装饰着翎毛,翎毛在黑马所拉的马车上方摇晃着;这些情景以及披着披巾,拿着棍棒的人们,吸引了一群人围观。玩杂耍的人本准备旋转盘子,这时又在他华丽的衣服外面套上一件宽松的外衣;他的拖着腿走路的妻子,手上抱着一个重娃娃,身子向一边倾斜,正游手好闲地看着送殡的人们出来。但是当她很轻易地抱着的孩子被挤到前面时,她就把他更紧地压在她肮脏的乳房上。对面高高的窗子里脸色红润的孩子当中最小的一个,兴高采烈,不要别人来制止她,这时她望着保姆的脸,用胖乎乎的手指指着问道:“那是什么?”
这时,董贝先生在周围一小群穿着丧服的仆人和哭哭啼啼的妇女们中间,穿过前厅,走向另一辆等待着他的四轮马车。这些旁观的人们心想,他并没有被悲伤和痛苦压倒。他的步伐还是跟平日一样矫健,他的态度还是跟平日一样生硬呆板。他没有把脸掩藏在手绢里,而是直望着前方。他的脸虽然稍稍有些消瘦、森严、苍白,但表情仍和往常一样。他在马车里坐定了位子,另外三位先生也跟着进了马车。于是隆重的送殡队伍沿着街道向前徐徐移动。玩杂耍的人正在一根棍子上旋转着盆子,同样的人群正在赞赏这技艺时,翎毛还在远处摇晃着。但是玩杂耍的人的妻子拿着盒子讨钱,不像平日那样机灵麻利,因为孩子的葬礼使她联想到她的被破烂的围巾覆盖着的婴儿也许将来不能长大成人,不能在头上绕上一根天蓝色的束发带,穿着橙红色的衬裤,在泥里翻跟斗。
翎毛沿着街道,忧郁地、曲曲折折地向前行进,已经可以听到教堂的钟声。这个漂亮的孩子就在这个教堂里得到了他不久唯一能遗留在人世的东西——一个名字。他们把他死去的一切安放在这里,靠近他母亲的遗骸。这很好。他们的骨灰在那里,弗洛伦斯不论哪一天散步——唉,多么孤独多么孤独的散步啊!——随时都可以经过那里。
仪式完毕,教士们都离开之后,董贝先生环顾四周,低声问道,要求到这里来听取他有关墓碑的指示的人在不在?
一个人走上来,说:“在。”
董贝先生通知他,他希望把墓碑安放在什么地方;又用手在墙上画出它的形状和大小;还指出,它应该紧挨着他母亲的墓碑,然后他用铅笔写出碑文,递给他,说:“我希望立刻把它刻好。
“立刻就会刻好,先生。”
“您看,除了姓名和年龄就没有什么别的要刻的了。”
那人鞠了个躬,看了看那张纸,好像踌躇不定似的。董贝先生没有留意到他在迟疑,所以就转身向门廊走去。
“请您原谅,先生,”一只手轻轻地碰了碰他的丧服,“可是因为您希望立刻就把它刻好,我回去也可以着手进行——”
“唔?”
“能不能劳驾您再看一遍?我觉得有一个差错。”
“什么地方?”
那位雕刻墓碑的匠人把纸递还给他,用随身携带的一支尺子指出下面的一些词:“心爱的和唯一的孩子。”
“先生,我想应当是‘儿子’吧?”
“您说得对。当然是。改过来吧。”
这位父亲以更快的步伐走向马车。当紧跟在他后面的另外三个人在马车里坐下时,他的脸第一次被掩盖着——被他的外衣捂着。那天他们再也没有见到它。他首先下了马车,立刻走到他自己的房间里去。其他参加葬礼的人(他们只不过是奇克先生和两位医生)上楼到客厅里,由奇克夫人和托克斯小姐接待他们。至于楼下关闭着的房间里的那个人,他的脸上是什么表情,他在想些什么,他的心情怎么样,有什么冲突或痛苦,谁也不知道。
地下室厨房里的人们只知道:“今天像星期天。”他们心里总觉得,外面街道上那些穿着日常服装,为日常工作奔忙的人们,在他们的行为中如果没有什么邪恶的东西的话,那么总还是有一些不对头的地方。窗帘已经卷上,百叶窗已经拉开,这是件不同于前几天的新鲜事情。他们像过节一般尽情地喝着一瓶瓶的酒,以此消愁解忧。他们都很喜欢劝善戒恶。托林森叹了一口气,举杯祝酒道,“让我们都来改过自新吧!”厨娘也叹了一口气,说:“上帝知道,要改过自新的地方多着哪!”晚上,奇克夫人和托克斯小姐又做起针线活来。在同一个晚上,托林森先生跟女仆一块出去兜风,她直到现在还没有试戴过服丧的软帽。他们在阴暗的街道拐角,彼此十分亲热;托林森希望有朝一日到牛津市场去当一名殷实的蔬菜水果商人,过另一种不同的、无可指责的生活。
这天夜里,在董贝先生的公馆中,人们跟以前好多夜相比,睡得比较酣畅,休息得比较充分。朝阳照旧唤醒了屋子里原来所有的人们,把他们重新推入他们往常的生活轨道。对面屋子里脸色红润的孩子们滚着铁环跑过去。教堂里举行了一个隆重的婚礼。玩杂耍的人的妻子在城市的另一个街区里,拿着讨钱的盒子,活跃地跑来跑去。石匠在他前面的大理石板上刻出•保•罗两个字的时候,唱着歌曲,吹着口哨。
在一个人口众多、忙忙碌碌的世界上,一个虚弱的小人儿的失去,在哪一个心上造成这样宽阔这样深沉的空虚,只有广袤无边的永恒才能把它填补上呢?弗洛伦斯在她真挚纯朴的悲痛中也许会回答道,“啊,我的弟弟,啊,我曾经热爱过、现在仍然热爱着的弟弟!我受到冷落的童年中的唯一的朋友和同伴!难道还有不那么高尚的思想能把您的已经露出曙光的早逝的坟墓照亮,或者能使这在泪落如雨时产生的阵阵悲痛减轻一些吗?”
“我亲爱的孩子,”奇克夫人说道,她认为她有义不容辞的责任抓住机会来开导她,“当你到了我这样的年纪——”
“也就是说到了精力充沛的壮年,”托克斯小姐说。
“那时候你就会知道,”奇克夫人说,一边轻轻地捏了一下托克斯小姐的手,对她友好的讲话表示感谢,“悲痛是无益的,我们的本分是听天由命。”
“我将努力这样去做,亲爱的姑妈,我是这样努力的。”弗洛伦斯抽泣着说。
“我很高兴听到你这么说,”奇克夫人说,“因为我亲爱的,正如我们亲爱的托克斯小姐——对于她正确的见解和卓越的判断是不可能有异议的——”
“我亲爱的路易莎,说实在的,我立刻就要骄傲起来了。”
“正如我们亲爱的托克斯小姐将会告诉你,并且用她的经验来证实的那样,”奇克夫人继续说道,“在任何情况下都要求我们作出努力。要求我们这样做。如果有什么厌——我亲爱的,”她向托克斯小姐说,“我忘了这个词。厌——厌——”
“厌倦,”托克斯小姐提示说。
“不是,不是,不是,”奇克夫人说,“你怎么会想出这个词呢!天呀,它已经到了我的嘴边了。厌——”
“厌恶,”托克斯小姐心虚胆怯地提示说。
“我的上帝,卢克丽霞!”奇克夫人回答,“多么荒唐!厌世者——这就是我想要说的词。你怎么会那么想!厌恶!我是说,如果有什么厌世者当着我的面提出下面的问题:‘为什么我们要生下来?’我就回答他说,‘为了作出努力’”。
“真是说得很好,”托克斯小姐说,这别出心裁的见解使她留下了深刻的印像,“•很好。”
“不幸的是,”奇克夫人继续说道,“在我们眼前已经有了一个教训。我们完全有理由设想,我亲爱的孩子,如果在这个家庭中曾经及时作出过努力,那么许多令人痛苦、难以忍受的事情本来是可以避免的。没有什么能使我改变我的看法,”这位善良的家庭主妇以坚决的语气说道,“如果可怜的亲爱的范妮先前能作出努力的话,那么这可怜的孩子至少可以有强壮一些的体质。”
奇克夫人控制不住自己的感情约有半秒钟光景;但是为了给她的学说提供一个实际的范例,她突然中止啜泣,继续往下说道:
“因此,弗洛伦斯,请向我们表明,你的意志是相当坚强的,不要只顾自己,加深你可怜的爸爸的痛苦。”
“亲爱的姑妈!”弗洛伦斯迅速地跪在她面前,以便更仔细更诚挚地看着她的脸,说道,“再告诉我一些爸爸的情况吧。
请跟我谈谈他吧!他是不是伤心绝望了?”
托克斯小姐是一位心慈善感的人,在这哀求中有一些东西使她深受感动。是不是她在这哀求中看到这位被冷落的女孩子希望能够继续像她死去的弟弟那样,时常向父亲表露出亲切的关怀?还是她在这哀求中看到这女孩子心中怀着一种爱,它想缠绕在曾经爱过她弟弟的那颗心的周围,而不能忍受在这爱与哀伤的交集之中她父亲由于悲痛而拒绝向它表示同情?还是她只不过是在这女孩子身上看出有一种真挚、忠诚的精神,它虽然遭到拒绝和厌弃,却仍痛苦地满怀着长久得不到回报的柔情,在她失去弟弟以后的忧愁和孤独中,它又转向父亲发出了哀求,希望从他微弱的反应中寻求到安慰,同时也去安慰他?——不论托克斯小姐怎样理解弗洛伦斯的哀求,反正这哀求是使她深受感动的。她在片刻间忘记了奇克夫人的尊严,急忙抚摸弗洛伦斯的脸颊,身子转向一旁,没有等待那位贤明的主妇的指示,就听凭泪水从眼睛中涌流出来了。
奇克夫人本人在片刻间也失去了她十分引以自豪的镇静,默默无言地望着那张美丽的年轻的脸,这张脸曾经长久地、耐性地、始终如一地照看过那张小床。可是她在恢复声音——它与镇静是同义的,它们实际上是同一个东西——以后,尊严地回答道:
“弗洛伦斯,我亲爱的孩子,你可怜的爸有时有些古怪;你向我问到他,那就是向我问一个我确实不敢自称是了解的问题。我相信,我对你爸爸的影响不比任何人小。可是我所能说的只是,他跟我谈得很少,我总共只见过他一、两次,每次不过一分钟;老实说,就是在那时候,我也没有看见他,因为他的房间是黑暗的。我曾对你爸爸说,‘保罗!’——当时我就是这样一字不差地对他说的——‘保罗!’你为什么不服点儿振奋精神的东西?你爸爸总是这样回答:‘路易莎,请你行行好离开我吧。我不需要任何东西。我一个人待着好。’卢克丽霞,如果明天要叫我到地方长官面前去起誓的话,”奇克夫人继续说,“那么我毫无疑问敢于发誓,他说过这些话。”
托克斯小姐表示钦佩地说,“我的路易莎总是这样有条有理!”
“总之,弗洛伦斯,”姑妈继续说道,“直到今天以前,我跟你可怜的爸爸几乎没有交谈过;今天我跟你爸爸说,巴尼特爵士和斯克特尔斯夫人写来了一封极其亲切的短简——我们亲爱的小男孩!斯克特尔斯夫人喜欢他极了,就像喜欢……
我的手绢在那里?”
托克斯小姐递上一块。
“这是一封极其亲切的短简,他们建议你去访问他们,换换环境。我跟你爸爸说,我觉得托克斯小姐和我现在可以回家了,这一点他完全同意;这时我就问他,他是不是反对你接受这个邀请,他说,‘不,路易莎,一点也不。’”。
弗洛伦斯抬起她那泪汪汪的眼睛。
“但是,弗洛伦斯,如果你宁愿待在这里,而不想现在去进行这次访问或跟我回家去的话——”
“我很愿意待在这里,姑妈——”回答的声音是微弱的。
“好吧,孩子,”奇克夫人说,“你可以待在这里。我得说,这是个古怪的选择。不过你总是古怪的。要是换了别人,不论是谁,到了你这样的年纪,又在经历了这样的事情之后,都是会高高兴兴离开这里的,这是人们意料之中的事情——我亲爱的托克斯小姐,我又找不到我的手绢了——”
“我不愿意觉得,仿佛应该避开这个家才好。”弗洛伦斯说,“我不愿意想到楼上的那个——他的房间空空荡荡,十分凄凉,姑妈。我目前宁肯留在这里。啊,我的弟弟呀!我的弟弟呀!”
这是自然的情感激动,不能加以压制;它甚至会从她捂在脸上的手指中间冲出来。那负担过重、疲惫不堪的胸膛有时必须有个排泄的孔道,否则里面那可怜的受伤的孤独的心就会像一只折断了翅膀的鸟那样挣扎扑腾,掉落在尘土之中的。
“好吧,孩子!”奇克夫人停了一下,接着又说道,“我无论如何也不愿意跟你说不客气的话,我相信,你也知道这一点。那么,你就待在这里,爱做什么就做什么。谁也不来干涉你,弗洛伦斯,而且我相信,谁也不希望来干涉你。”
弗洛伦斯点点头,悲伤地表示同意。
“我劝告你可怜的爸爸,他确实应该暂时换个环境,想法散散心,恢复一下精神,”奇克夫人说,“我的话刚说完,他就立刻对我说,他已经有了打算,想到乡下去一段短短的时间。说实在的,我真希望他很快就走。走得越早越好。不过我想他还得处理处理有关私人单据之类的事情,这些单据都是因为这次使我们受尽痛苦折磨的不幸事件所发生的。——我真闹不明白,我的手绢是怎么回事,它到哪里去了,卢克丽霞,我亲爱的,把您的信给我吧!——因此,他在他的房间里得忙上一、两个晚上。孩子,你的爸爸真不愧是我们董贝家里的人,如果要真有一个能当之无愧的人的话,”奇克夫人用托克斯小姐手绢的两个对角十分细心地把她的两只眼睛同时擦干。“他会作出努力的。不必为他担心。”
“姑妈,”弗洛伦斯颤抖着问道,“我就不可以做点什么事情使——”
“天主呀,我亲爱的孩子,”奇克夫人急忙打断她说,“你讲的是些什么话呀?如果你爸爸对我说——我已经把他的话原原本本地告诉你了——‘路易莎,我不需要任何东西。我一个人待着好。’——那么你以为他会对你说什么呢?你千万别在他跟前露面,孩子。别去梦想这种事情吧。”
“姑妈,”弗洛伦斯说,“我到我床上去躺躺。”
奇克夫人赞成她的这个决定,吻了吻她,就让她走了。可是托克斯小姐却假装去寻找丢失的手绢,跟着她上楼去,并偷出几分钟来想法安慰安慰她,尽管苏珊•尼珀表示出很不支持的态度。因为尼珀姑娘在她炽烈的热情中,把托克斯小姐贬损为一条鳄鱼;可是托克斯小姐的同情看来是真诚的,至少不是出于自私,这是个可取的优点——她这样做得不到什么好处。
难道就没有一个比苏珊更贴近更亲爱的人来支持那颗在极度痛苦中在努力奋斗的心了吗?难道就没有另一个脖子她可以搂抱,没有另一张脸她可以望着了吗?难道就没有另外一个人对这样深切的悲伤说上一句安慰的话了吗?难道在这凄凉的世界上,弗洛伦斯就这么孤独,没有给她留下任何别的东西了吗?没有。在失去母亲又失去弟弟的双重打击下——因为在失去小保罗以后,那第一个也是最大的损失就更沉重地压在她身上了——,苏珊是她唯一能得到的帮助。啊,谁能说得出,她首先多么需要帮助啊!”
最初,当住宅中的生活逐渐步入惯常的轨道,除了仆人和关在自己房间里的父亲之外,所有其他的人们都已离开时,弗洛伦斯不能做别的,她只是哭泣,在屋子里来回漫步,有时在悲凉的回忆突然引起的极度痛苦中飞跑到她自己的房间中,使劲地绞扭着双手,脸贴在床上,得不到任何安慰——除了剧烈的、无情的悲痛之外,再也得不到别的什么了。这通常是在看到一些跟小保罗亲切的感情紧密相连的场所或物品之后发生的;这就使这座悲惨不幸的住宅最初成了一个使她苦恼重重的地方。
但是,纯洁的爱在性质上并不会猛烈地、无情地长久燃烧。爱的火焰,由于其中粗俗的部分受到世俗的污染,所以它可能会折磨庇护它的胸膛;但是从上天降临的圣火却在心中柔和地闪耀,就像它降临在聚集在一起的十二个人的头上①,向他们每个人指明他的兄弟都笑逐颜开、安然无恙时的情形一样。当圣像被召唤到心中来时,弗洛伦斯就立刻恢复了平静的面容,温柔的声音,可爱的外貌,沉着的信任与安宁;她虽然依旧在哭泣,但都哭得比过去平静,并从回忆中寻求安慰。

  --------

  ①圣经故事中说,耶稣从耶路撒冷回到迦百农,继续传道。他在山上把诸多门徒叫上来,从中选出十二个人,称他们为使徒,他要他们常和自己同住,也要派他们出去传道。

  时间过去不很久,当金黄色的水波在原先的地方,原先宁静的时间中在墙上荡漾时,她的平静的眼光又在注视着它逐渐消逝。时间过去不很久,她又时常来到这个房间,独自坐在那里,就像她过去在小床边看护时一样地耐心与温柔。当她突然敏锐地感觉到床上已空空无人,心中万分痛苦时,她会跪在床边,向上帝祈祷——这时她倾吐着满怀心曲——,求他派一个天使来爱她,别把她忘记。

  时间过去不很久,在这宽广、凄凉、阴惨惨的住宅中,她又在薄暮中,缓慢地、时断时续地低声唱起歌曲来,这歌曲是保罗过去把低垂的头枕靠在她的胳膊上时常常听着的;然后当天完全黑了的时候,房间里响起了一小段音乐的震颤的声音,她十分温柔地弹奏着和歌唱着:这更像是在悲伤地回忆那最后一夜中在他的请求下她所做过的事情,而不像是真正在重复弹唱。可是,她在郁郁寡欢的孤独中经常地、极为经常地重复弹唱着它;当甜美的歌声在潸潸的泪水中寂然消逝时,乐键仍叮叮冬冬地震颤着断断续续的曲调声。

  就这样,她又有了勇气去观赏她过去在海滨挨近他的身旁、手指忙碌不停地做过的针线活;就这样,时间过去不很久,她又重新做起针线活来,心中对它怀着某种人类的爱,仿佛它是有知觉的,是记得他似的;她在长久弃置不用、无人居住的房间里,坐在靠近母亲遗像的窗口,在沉思中消磨了一个个小时。

  她的黑眼睛为什么经常从针线活上转移到那些脸色红润的孩子们居住的地方呢?她们没有使她直接想起她失去的弟弟,因为她们都是女孩子:四个小姐妹。但是她们都像她一样失去了母亲,只有一个父亲。

  当他已经外出,她们正盼望着他回家时,这个情况是很容易猜到的,因为那最大的孩子总是穿上衣服,在客厅的窗口或在阳台上等候着他。当他出现时,她那期待着的脸上露出了快乐的笑容,另外那些挨靠着高高的窗口、也一直在注视着的孩子们则拍着手,敲打着窗台,呼唤着他。最大的女孩子跑到下面的前厅里,拉着他的手,领他上楼;弗洛伦斯看见她后来坐在他身旁或膝盖上,或亲热地搂抱着他的脖子,跟他谈话;虽然他们在一起总是高高兴兴,他却常常凝视着她的脸,仿佛他觉得她像她死去的母亲。弗洛伦斯有时不愿再看下去,泪如泉涌,像受惊似地躲在窗帘后面,或者急忙从窗口走开;可是她不由自主地又会回来;她的针线活又会不知不觉地从她手中掉落。

  这座房屋几年以前是空着的。很长一段时间一直是这样。终于,当她不在家时,这一家人住进来了;它被修缮过并重新油漆过;有了鸟和花;它跟原先的样子相比天差地别,可是她从来没有去想这座房屋本身。孩子们和她们的父亲吸引了她的全部注意力。

  当他用餐之后,她可以通过敞开的窗子看到她们跟随着家庭女教师或保姆下楼去,簇拥在桌子周围;在寂静的夏日,她们那孩子的声音和清脆的笑声会越过街道,传进她坐在里面的气氛颓丧的房间中。然后她们跟他一起爬上楼梯,在沙发上围着他,跟他顽皮嬉闹,或者簇拥在他的膝盖上,他似乎在给她们讲故事,这时她们看上去真像由一张张小脸组成的花束啊!或者,她们会跑到阳台上来,这时弗洛伦斯就会迅速躲藏起来,唯恐她们看见她穿着黑色的丧服孤独地坐在那里,会影响她们的欢乐。

  当其他的女孩子离开以后,最大的女孩子留下跟父亲在一起,给他泡茶——那时她是多么幸福的小管家啊!——,坐着和他谈话,有时在窗口,有时在房间里,直到点上蜡烛的时候。虽然她比弗洛伦斯还小几岁,但他却把她当作他的伴侣;她拿着她的小书或针线匣,能跟成年妇女一样沉着冷静;而且有趣的是,也跟她们一样文雅庄重。当她们点上蜡烛的时候,弗洛伦斯从她自己黑暗的房间里不怕再去看她们。可是到了孩子们说,‘爸爸,晚安!’,前去睡觉的时候,弗洛伦斯却会哭泣、颤抖,这时她抬起脸来向着他,但却不能再看到什么了。

  不过,在她自己睡觉以前,她却会一次又一次停止唱那支好久以前经常给保罗催眠的简朴的歌曲,停止弹奏另一段低沉、温柔、断断续续的音乐,重新回来看这座房屋。她常常想着它,密切地注视着它,但她却把这作为秘密保守在她年轻的心中。

  弗洛伦斯是这样真诚与忠实,保罗在心中对她所怀有的、在临终时用微弱的声音在她的耳边诉说过的爱,她是受之无愧的。她的正直的心灵反映在她美丽的面容中,表露在她的温柔的声音的每一个音调中。在那年轻的心胸中,是不是还隐藏着其他什么秘密呢?是的,还有一个秘密。

  当住宅中所有的人都已沉睡,所有的灯光都已熄灭时,她就会悄悄地离开自己的房间,迈着无声的脚步,走下楼梯,走近她父亲的房门。她会几乎屏住呼吸,把脸和头挨着它,并怀着热爱,把嘴唇紧贴着它。每天夜里她都蹲在门外冷冰冰的石头地板上,希望能听一听哪怕是他的呼吸;她一心一意地希望能允许向他表示一些爱,能成为他的安慰,能使他回心转意,接受他的孤独无依的孩子向他表示的亲切温存的心意;如果她有胆量,她会跪在他的脚跟,低声下气地哀求。

  谁也不知道这个情况;谁也没有想到它。房门一直关闭着,他就被关在里面。他出去过一、两次;屋子里的人们都说他不久就要动身去乡下旅行了;可是他住在那些房间里,独自一人住着,从来没有看见过她或打听过她。或者也许他甚至不知道她就住在这个屋子里。

  有一天,大约在送殡以后一个星期光景,弗洛伦斯正坐着做针线活,这时苏珊脸上半笑半哭地跑进来通报说,来了一个客人。

  “客人!来看我的吗,苏珊?”弗洛伦斯惊奇地抬起头来望着她,问道。

  “对了,确实是个奇迹,可不是吗,弗洛伦斯小姐?”苏珊说,“可是我真希望您有许多客人,说实在的,我真这么希望,因为这对您会好得多,我认为,小姐,您跟我哪怕就是到斯克特尔斯他们老夫妇那里去走走,也是愈早对我们两人愈好,我可能并不希望跟一群人生活在一起,弗洛伦斯小姐,但是我毕竟不是一个牡蛎呀!”

  我们得为尼珀姑娘说句公道话,她说这些话主要是为了她年轻的女主人,而不是为了她自己;从她的脸上的表情中就可以看出这一点。

  “可是客人呢,苏珊?”弗洛伦斯问道。

  苏珊突然歇斯底里发作,说它像是大笑又似是哭泣,说它像是哭泣又像是大笑似的,她就这样疯疯癫癫地回答道:

  “图茨先生!”

  弗洛伦斯脸上出现了微笑,但片刻间就消失了;她热泪盈眶。但它毕竟是个微笑,这使尼珀姑娘感到极为满意。

  “弗洛伊小姐,我自己的感情跟您的完全一样,”苏珊提起围裙去擦眼睛,一边摇晃着脑袋说,“我在前厅里刚一看见那个笨蛋时,我起初哈哈大笑,接着嗓子就哽住了。”

  苏珊·尼珀情不自禁又当场重演起来。在这同时,已经跟着她走上楼来的图茨先生,完全不了解他所引起的反应,用指节敲了敲门,通报他已来到,接着就很轻快地走了进来。

  “您好吗,董贝小姐?”图茨先生说,“我很好,谢谢您。

  您身体好吗?”

  世界上虽然可以找到一两个头脑比图茨先生更聪明的人,但却很少有比他更好的人。为了宽慰弗洛伦斯和他本人的心情,他曾经煞费苦心地编出了这长长一串的话,可是在他还没有在椅子上坐下来之前,在弗洛伦斯还没有说出一句话之前,或者在他还没有从门口完全跨进来之前,他已把他的全部财产挥霍罄尽了;当他发现他的财产已经用得一干二净之后,他认为从头再说一遍倒是个可取的办法。

  “您好吗,董贝小姐?”图茨先生说道,“我很好,谢谢您。

  您身体好吗?”

  弗洛伦斯向他伸出手去,说她很好。

  “我确实很好,”图茨先生在椅子上坐下来,说道,“确实是这样。我不记得,”图茨先生想了一会儿,说,“曾经还有比现在更好的时候,谢谢您。”

  “您真客气,还来看我,”弗洛伦斯拿起针线活,说,“我很高兴见到您。”

  图茨先生吃吃地笑了一下,作为回答。考虑到这可能显得太快活了,他就用一声叹息来纠正;考虑到这可能又显得太忧愁了,他又吃吃笑了一下,进行纠正。这两个回答方式哪一个也不能使他完全称心满意,他就呼呼地直喘气。

  “您待我亲爱的弟弟很好,”弗洛伦斯说。她自然而然,不由自主地希望用这些话把他从困境中救出。“他时常跟我谈到您。”

  “啊,那无关紧要,”图茨先生急忙说道,“今天挺温暖,是不是?”

  “美好的天气,”弗洛伦斯回答。

  “这种天气对我很合适!”图茨先生说,“我觉得我身体从来没有像现在这样好过。谢谢您。”

  图茨先生叙述了这个奇妙的、意想不到的事实之后,掉进了沉默的深井中。

  “我想您已离开布林伯博士的学校了吧,”弗洛伦斯说,她设法帮助他爬出来。

  “我希望这样,”图茨先生回答,接着又掉下去了。

  他待在井底,显然已被淹没,至少有十分钟。这段时间过去之后,他突然浮了上来,说:

  “唔,早上好!董贝小姐!”

  “您要走了吗?”弗洛伦斯站起来问道。

  “不过,我也不知道,不,现在还不走,”图茨先生说,完全出乎意料地又坐了下来。“事实是,——我说,董贝小姐!”

  “跟我说话别害怕,”弗洛伦斯平静地微笑了一下,说,“如果您愿意谈谈我的弟弟的话,那么我会很高兴的。”

  “真的吗?”图茨先生回答道,他那张否则就会毫无表情的脸上的每一根纤维都表示出同情。“可怜的董贝!说真的,我从没有想到,我们经常谈到的,专做时髦服装但价钱很贵的伯吉斯公司会为这样一种目的做这样一套衣服的。”图茨先生是穿着丧服的。“可怜的董贝!哎呀!董贝小姐!”图茨先生哇哇地哭了起来。

  “是的,”弗洛伦斯说。

  “他在最后的那些日子里很喜欢一位朋友。我想您也许会希望把他作为一种纪念品吧。您可记得,他惦记着戴奥吉尼斯①吗?”

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  ①请见第十四章第242页注释。

  “不错!不错!”弗洛伦斯喊道。

  “可怜的董贝!我也同样惦记着,”图茨先生说。

  图茨先生看到弗洛伦斯眼泪汪汪,觉得再说下去非常困难,几乎又要滚进井里去了。可是吃吃的一笑把他从井边救住了。

  “我说,”他继续说道,“董贝小姐!如果他们当时舍不得把他抛弃,我也会出十先令把他给偷出来的,我会的,不过我想,他们当时很高兴把他给打发掉。如果您愿意要他的话,那么他就在门口。我是特意把他带来给您的。您知道,他不是贵妇人养的那种狗。”图茨先生说,“不过,您不会介意吧,是不是?”

  当他们往下面的街道上俯视时,立刻就确证了这个事实;实际上,戴奥吉尼斯这时正从一辆出租单马篷车的窗口瞪眼往外瞧着;为了把他运到这个地方,他们曾经假装稻草中间有耗子,用这个法子把他诱骗进这辆单马篷车里。说实话,他丝毫也不像贵妇人养的狗;他急不可耐地想从车中挣脱出来,显出一副很不讨人喜爱的样子;他歪着嘴,发出汪汪的短吠;由于每次用力过猛,身子失去平衡,就翻滚到稻草堆里,然后又气喘吁吁地跳上来,吐出舌头,仿佛他是特地到诊疗所来检查身体似的。

  虽然戴奥吉尼斯是一条人们在夏天可以碰见的那种可笑的狗,一条跌跌撞撞跑着、外貌丑陋,四肢笨拙、圆头圆脑的狗;他的行动老是根据一个错误的想法,就是邻近有一个敌人,向他吠叫是值得赞扬的;虽然他决算不上脾气好,也的确不聪明,头毛垂遮着眼睛,鼻子滑稽可笑,尾巴忽左忽右地摇摆,声音粗哑难听;可是由于保罗在离开人世之前还惦记着他,还要求好好照料他,所以,对弗洛伦斯来说,他比他最高贵、最漂亮的同类都更为宝贵。确实,这个丑陋的戴奥吉尼斯对她是那么宝贵,那么深受欢迎,因此,她拉起图茨先生佩带宝石的手,满怀感激地吻了吻它。戴奥吉尼斯释放后飞奔上楼,蹦进房间(把他首先从篷车里弄出来,真是费了多大的工夫啊!),钻到各种家具底下,把那条挂在他脖子下面、晃来晃去的长长的铁链缠绕在桌子和椅子的腿上,然后拖曳着它,直到他那被蓬松的毛发遮盖住的眼睛几乎从眼窝里跳出来为止;他向着假装跟他很亲昵的图茨先生咆哮,又向托林森猛扑过去,认定托林森就是他一生中从角落里对着狂吠而至今还没见过面的敌人;弗洛伦斯喜欢他极了,仿佛他是挖空心思才能创造出的奇迹似的。

  图茨先生由于送礼成功欣喜若狂,他十分高兴地看到弗洛伦斯向戴奥吉尼斯弯下身子,用她娇嫩的手把他蓬乱粗糙的背抚摸平滑——他们一开始相识,戴奥吉尼斯就亲切和蔼地允许她这样做——,他觉得很难告辞,如果不是戴奥吉尼斯亲自前来帮忙——他忽然心血来潮,向图茨先生汪汪吠叫,并张开嘴巴向他冲扑——的话,那么他无疑需要更长得多的时间才能下这个决心。图茨先生想不出什么办法来消除这些示威性的进攻,看到伯吉斯公司巧妙手艺做成的裤子已处在岌岌可危的状态,就吃吃笑着,溜到门口,毫无目的地从那里向里面又探望了两三次,每次都受到戴奥吉尼斯新的冲扑,最后他终于离开回家去了。

  “来吧,戴!亲爱的戴!跟你新的女主人做朋友吧。让我们相亲相爱,戴!”弗洛伦斯抚弄着他蓬乱的头,说道。戴虽然粗野、暴躁,但他的毛茸茸的皮却仿佛能让掉在上面的眼泪透过,他那狗的心也仿佛能在眼泪落下时溶化似的;他翘着鼻子向她的脸上凑近,并发出了效忠的誓言。

  戴奥吉尼斯这位哲学家对亚历山大皇帝所说的话①不比戴奥吉尼斯这条狗对弗洛伦斯所说的话更明白。他兴高采烈地赞成他的小女主人的建议,献身为她效劳。弗洛伦斯立刻在角落里给他摆出了宴席;他吃饱喝足之后,走到坐在窗旁望着他的弗洛伦斯身边,两只腿站立起来,两只粗笨的前爪按着她的肩膀,舔着她的脸和手,大大的头贴靠在她的前胸,尾巴一刻不停地摇着,直到摇累了为止。最后,戴奥吉尼斯蜷缩在她的脚边,睡着了。

  --------

  ①指戴奥吉尼斯请亚历山大皇帝往旁边站,别挡着他的阳光。

  虽然尼珀姑娘看到狗总是紧张不安,走进房间时觉得有必要小心翼翼地提起围裙边缘,仿佛踩着石头走过溪流似的;当戴奥吉尼斯伸展四肢时,她会发出尖叫,站到椅子上去;但是图茨先生的好意却使她内心很受感动;当她看到弗洛伦斯由于小保罗的这位粗野的朋友跟她亲热、做伴而这么精神抖擞,喜气洋洋时,心中不免产生出一些感慨,这些想法使她的眼泪夺眶而出。董贝先生是她感慨的一部分,她在联想中可能把他跟这条狗联系起来进行比较了,可是,不管怎么样,当她对戴奥吉尼斯和她的女主人观察了整整一晚上,她又好意地亲自在她的女主人门外的一个接待室里为戴奥吉尼斯准备了一张床之后,她在夜间告别之前,还是急忙对弗洛伦斯说:

  “弗洛伊小姐,您爸爸明天早上就要动身走了。”

  “明天早上,苏珊?”

  “是的,小姐,是这么吩咐的。一清早。”

  “您知不知道,”弗洛伦斯没有看着他,问道,“爸爸上哪里去,苏珊?”

  “不十分清楚,小姐。他首先去跟那位宝贝少校碰头。我必须说,如果我本人要结识什么少校的话(老天爷不允许!),那么我也决不会结识一位皮肤发青的!”

  “轻一点,苏珊!”弗洛伦斯温和地劝告她。

  “唔,弗洛伊小姐,”尼珀姑娘回答道,她怒火中烧,比平时更不注意标点符号。“我管不住自己,不能不说,他皮肤发青是事实,只要我是一个基督教徒,尽管身份低微,我也宁愿跟自然肤色的人交朋友,要不就一个朋友也不交。”

  从她随后补充的话和她在楼下零零星星听到的话看来,奇克夫人曾建议少校给董贝先生当旅伴;董贝先生犹豫了一番之后,已经邀请了他。

  “他们提起他就好像他是个什么可以更换的东西一样,真是的!”尼珀姑娘怀着无限的轻蔑,说道,“如果他是个可以更换的东西的话,那么就请给我一个固定不变的东西吧!”

  “晚安,苏珊,”弗洛伦斯说。

  “晚安,我的宝贝亲爱的弗洛伊小姐。”

  她的怜悯的声调重重地打击了那条经常被粗暴地碰触,但当她或任何人在场时弗洛伦斯从没有去听过的心弦。弗洛伦斯独自一人留下时,她头低垂在一只手上,另一只手紧压着激烈跳动的心,思潮汹涌,愁绪万千。

  这是个雨夜;令人伤感的雨以一种使人厌倦的声音急速地、嗒嗒地下着。懒洋洋的风在吹着,它仿佛由于痛苦或悲伤而一直在房屋四周哀号。树木摇晃,发出了尖锐的响声。当她坐在那里哭泣时,时间渐渐晚了,从教堂尖塔那里传来了凄凉的午夜的钟声。

  就年龄来说,弗洛伦斯几乎还是个孩子——不满十四周岁——,在死神最近进行过可怕的蹂躏的这座宏伟的公馆中,在这样一种时间内,笼罩着的凄凉寂寞、幽暗阴森的气氛,也许会使一个年龄更大的人产生一些莫名的恐怖。可是她在天真无邪的想像中,专心一意地只思考着一个主题,所以顾不得去注意这些情况了。她的思想中,除了爱没有别的东西在转悠——是的,这是漂泊不定、没有归宿的爱,它没有被接受,可是它总是向着她的父亲。

  雨的降落,风的哀号,树木的摇晃,圣钟的鸣响,它们全都没有任何东西可以动摇这唯一的思想或减轻它的强烈程度。她从没有停止对亲爱的死去的弟弟的回忆,可是这种回忆不可分割地和这个思想联结在一起,它们是一回事。啊,从她弟弟死去那时起,她就被关在外面,被深深地遗忘,她就从来没有看见过她父亲的脸或抚摸过他!

  可怜的孩子,从那时候起,她每天夜间在没有到他门前去参拜之前,她不能,也从来没有迳直去睡觉过。这时,她正穿过深沉的黑暗,轻轻地、偷偷地下楼,并怀着一颗跳动的心,带着一双模糊的眼睛,披着一头不知不觉向下松开的头发,停在门口,用潮湿的脸颊紧贴着门。这真是一幅奇怪的悲惨的景象,可是夜色把它遮盖了,谁也不知道。

  今天夜里,弗洛伦斯刚一碰到门,就发现它是开着的。它是第一次开着,虽然只开了不过头发丝般的一条细缝;里面还有灯光。提心吊胆的孩子的第一个冲动是迅速地后退,她服从了它。她的第二个冲动是回去,走进房间,这第二个冲动使她迟疑不决地站在楼梯上。

  门是开着的,那怕只有细细的一条缝,但这却似乎存在着希望。房间里的一线灯光悄悄地穿过黑暗的、森严的门口,像一条纱线般地落在大理石地板上,这个情景给了她鼓励。她转过身来,几乎不知道她做了什么,但心中的爱以及他们共同经历过、但却没有相互分担过的考验驱策着她;她稍稍举起颤抖着的手,轻悄悄地走了进去。

  她的父亲坐在中间的房间中他原先的桌子前。他在整理一些文件单据,并毁去另外一些;那些撕破的碎片散落在他前面。雨点沉重地、嘀嘀嗒嗒地打在外面房间的窗玻璃上,当保罗还是个婴孩的时候,他曾经常在这个房间里注视着他。房屋外面,可以听到风的低沉的哀号声。

  但是他却没有听到。他坐在那里,眼睛凝视着桌子,专心一意地思考着。就是比他女儿轻盈的脚步更为沉重的步伐也未必能惊动他。他的脸朝向她。在淡弱的灯光下,在这个阴沉凄凉的时刻,它看上去憔悴、懊丧;在包围着他的一片寂静之中,有一个向弗洛伦斯发出的呼吁正扣击着她的心弦。

  “爸爸!爸爸!跟我说说话吧,亲爱的爸爸!”

  他听到她的声音,大吃一惊,从坐位上跳了起来。她伸开胳膊,紧张地站在他前面,可是他却往后退缩。

  “怎么回来?”他严厉地问道,“你为什么到这里来?什么惊吓了你?”

  如果有什么惊吓了她的话,那么这就是他朝着她的这张脸。他年轻的女儿心中热烈的爱在它面前凝结了;她仿佛突然变成一块石头似地站在那里望着他。

  在这张脸中没有一点亲切或怜悯,没有一丝关心、父爱或宽厚。它有变化,但却不是那种性质。先前的漠不关心和冷淡拘板已让位于别的什么东西;究竟是什么,她从没有去想过,也不敢去想,然而她却强烈地感觉到它,清楚地知道它,只是说不出它的名称;当这张脸朝着她时,它似乎在她头上投下了一个阴影。

  他是不是在面前看见了在健康与生命的竞争中压倒了他儿子的胜利者?他是不是在望着在争取他儿子的感情的竞争中压倒了他本人的胜利音?是不是一种疯狂的炉嫉和被刺伤的骄傲在毒害那本应使他亲近她、宠爱她的甜蜜的回忆?是不是可能,当他看到她姿容美丽、风华正茂因而同时联想到他的幼小的男孩时感到心如刀割?

  弗洛伦斯没有这些想法。可是当爱遭到拒绝,毫无希望时,它是敏感的。当她站在那里望着她父亲的脸孔时,希望从她心中逝灭了。

  “我问你,弗洛伦斯,你是不是受了惊吓?你到这里来,是不是出了什么事?”

  “我到这里来,爸爸——”

  “这是违背我的愿望的。为什么?”

  她看出,他明白为什么——它清清楚楚地写在他的脸上——,她把头垂落到手上,发出了低微的、拖长了的哭声。

  让他在未来的岁月中,在那个房间中,记得这哭声吧。在他打破沉默之前,它已经在空中消失。他相信,它很快就会从他的脑子中逝灭的,但是不,它留在那里。让他在未来的岁月中,在那个房间中,记得这哭声吧!

  他挽着她的胳膊。他的手是冷的,松弛的,几乎没有挽紧她。

  “你一定是累了,”他说,一边拿起灯,领着她向门口走去,“需要休息了。我们全都需要休息了。走吧,弗洛伦斯,你一定做了什么梦了。”

  她的确做过梦,可是这个梦已经醒了,让上帝帮助她吧!

  她觉得它再也不会回来了。

  “我站在这里照着你上楼。楼上整个房屋都是属于你的,”她父亲慢慢吞吞地说道,“你现在成了女主人了。晚安!”她仍旧捂着脸,哭泣着,回答道,“晚安,亲爱的爸爸,”然后悄悄地走上楼去。有一次她回头看了一下,仿佛如果不是由于害怕,她就准备回到他身边去似的。这是瞬间即逝的念头,它太没有希望了,所以她鼓不起勇气去那么做。她的父亲举着灯站在那里,冷酷无情,无动于衷,一动不动,直到他美丽的女儿的飘动的衣服在黑暗中消失为止。

  让他在未来的岁月中,在那个房间中,记得这个情景吧。雨在屋顶上下着,风在门外哀号着,在它们忧郁的声音中也许已有了预知。让他在未来的岁月中,在那个房间中,记得这个情景吧!

  上一次,他在同一个地方注视着她上楼去,那时她手中抱着弟弟。现在这并没有使他的心向着她,而是使他铁石心肠了。他回到自己的房间中,锁上门,坐在椅子里,痛哭他死去的男孩。

  戴奥吉尼斯十分清醒地守在他的岗位上;他正等待着他的小女主人。

  “啊,戴!啊,亲爱的戴!为了他的缘故爱我吧!”

  戴奥吉尼斯早已为了她本人的缘故而爱她了,而且根本不在乎表露得太多会有什么不好意思。因此,他在接待室里粗野地蹦跳了好多花样,十分滑稽可笑;最后,当可怜的弗洛伦斯终于睡去并梦见对面屋子里脸色红润的女孩子们时,他扒开了她卧室的门,把他自己的床滚成了一个枕头,把拴住他的绳子尽量拉了进去,然后躺在房间的地板上,头朝着她,翻着白眼,从眼睛顶端懒洋洋地仰望着她,直到后来他眨巴着眼睛,眨巴着眼睛,自己也睡着了,而且还梦见了他的敌人,向他发出了粗暴的吠叫。


慕若涵

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爱就像蓝天白云,晴空万里,突然暴风雨!
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Chapter 19
Walter goes away

The wooden Midshipman at the Instrument-maker's door, like the hard-hearted little Midshipman he was, remained supremely indifferent to Walter's going away, even when the very last day of his sojourn in the back parlour was on the decline. With his quadrant at his round black knob of an eye, and his figure in its old attitude of indomitable alacrity, the Midshipman displayed his elfin small-clothes to the best advantage, and, absorbed in scientific pursuits, had no sympathy with worldly concerns. He was so far the creature of circumstances, that a dry day covered him with dust, and a misty day peppered him with little bits of soot, and a wet day brightened up his tarnished uniform for the moment, and a very hot day blistered him; but otherwise he was a callous, obdurate, conceited Midshipman, intent on his own discoveries, and caring as little for what went on about him, terrestrially, as Archimedes at the taking of Syracuse.
Such a Midshipman he seemed to be, at least, in the then position of domestic affairs. Walter eyed him kindly many a time in passing in and out; and poor old Sol, when Walter was not there, would come and lean against the doorpost, resting his weary wig as near the shoe-buckles of the guardian genius of his trade and shop as he could. But no fierce idol with a mouth from ear to ear, and a murderous visage made of parrot's feathers, was ever more indifferent to the appeals of its savage votaries, than was the Midshipman to these marks of attachment.
Walter's heart felt heavy as he looked round his old bedroom, up among the parapets and chimney-pots, and thought that one more night already darkening would close his acquaintance with it, perhaps for ever. Dismantled of his little stock of books and pictures, it looked coldly and reproachfully on him for his desertion, and had already a foreshadowing upon it of its coming strangeness. 'A few hours more,' thought Walter, 'and no dream I ever had here when I was a schoolboy will be so little mine as this old room. The dream may come back in my sleep, and I may return waking to this place, it may be: but the dream at least will serve no other master, and the room may have a score, and every one of them may change, neglect, misuse it.'
But his Uncle was not to be left alone in the little back parlour, where he was then sitting by himself; for Captain Cuttle, considerate in his roughness, stayed away against his will, purposely that they should have some talk together unobserved: so Walter, newly returned home from his last day's bustle, descended briskly, to bear him company.
'Uncle,' he said gaily, laying his hand upon the old man's shoulder, 'what shall I send you home from Barbados?'
'Hope, my dear Wally. Hope that we shall meet again, on this side of the grave. Send me as much of that as you can.'
'So I will, Uncle: I have enough and to spare, and I'll not be chary of it! And as to lively turtles, and limes for Captain Cuttle's punch, and preserves for you on Sundays, and all that sort of thing, why I'll send you ship-loads, Uncle: when I'm rich enough.'
Old Sol wiped his spectacles, and faintly smiled.
'That's right, Uncle!' cried Walter, merrily, and clapping him half a dozen times more upon the shoulder. 'You cheer up me! I'll cheer up you! We'll be as gay as larks to-morrow morning, Uncle, and we'll fly as high! As to my anticipations, they are singing out of sight now.
'Wally, my dear boy,' returned the old man, 'I'll do my best, I'll do my best.'
'And your best, Uncle,' said Walter, with his pleasant laugh, 'is the best best that I know. You'll not forget what you're to send me, Uncle?'
'No, Wally, no,' replied the old man; 'everything I hear about Miss Dombey, now that she is left alone, poor lamb, I'll write. I fear it won't be much though, Wally.'
'Why, I'll tell you what, Uncle,' said Walter, after a moment's hesitation, 'I have just been up there.'
'Ay, ay, ay?' murmured the old man, raising his eyebrows, and his spectacles with them.
'Not to see her,' said Walter, 'though I could have seen her, I daresay, if I had asked, Mr Dombey being out of town: but to say a parting word to Susan. I thought I might venture to do that, you know, under the circumstances, and remembering when I saw Miss Dombey last.'
'Yes, my boy, yes,' replied his Uncle, rousing himself from a temporary abstraction.
'So I saw her,' pursued Walter, 'Susan, I mean: and I told her I was off and away to-morrow. And I said, Uncle, that you had always had an interest in Miss Dombey since that night when she was here, and always wished her well and happy, and always would be proud and glad to serve her in the least: I thought I might say that, you know, under the circumstances. Don't you think so ?'
'Yes, my boy, yes,' replied his Uncle, in the tone as before.
'And I added,' pursued Walter, 'that if she - Susan, I mean - could ever let you know, either through herself, or Mrs Richards, or anybody else who might be coming this way, that Miss Dombey was well and happy, you would take it very kindly, and would write so much to me, and I should take it very kindly too. There! Upon my word, Uncle,' said Walter, 'I scarcely slept all last night through thinking of doing this; and could not make up my mind when I was out, whether to do it or not; and yet I am sure it is the true feeling of my heart, and I should have been quite miserable afterwards if I had not relieved it.'
His honest voice and manner corroborated what he said, and quite established its ingenuousness.
'So, if you ever see her, Uncle,' said Walter, 'I mean Miss Dombey now - and perhaps you may, who knows! - tell her how much I felt for her; how much I used to think of her when I was here; how I spoke of her, with the tears in my eyes, Uncle, on this last night before I went away. Tell her that I said I never could forget her gentle manner, or her beautiful face, or her sweet kind disposition that was better than all. And as I didn't take them from a woman's feet, or a young lady's: only a little innocent child's,' said Walter: 'tell her, if you don't mind, Uncle, that I kept those shoes - she'll remember how often they fell off, that night - and took them away with me as a remembrance!'
They were at that very moment going out at the door in one of Walter's trunks. A porter carrying off his baggage on a truck for shipment at the docks on board the Son and Heir, had got possession of them; and wheeled them away under the very eye of the insensible Midshipman before their owner had well finished speaking.
But that ancient mariner might have been excused his insensibility to the treasure as it rolled away. For, under his eye at the same moment, accurately within his range of observation, coming full into the sphere of his startled and intensely wide-awake look-out, were Florence and Susan Nipper: Florence looking up into his face half timidly, and receiving the whole shock of his wooden ogling!
More than this, they passed into the shop, and passed in at the parlour door before they were observed by anybody but the Midshipman. And Walter, having his back to the door, would have known nothing of their apparition even then, but for seeing his Uncle spring out of his own chair, and nearly tumble over another.
'Why, Uncle!' exclaimed Walter. 'What's the matter?'
Old Solomon replied, 'Miss Dombey!'
'Is it possible?' cried Walter, looking round and starting up in his turn. 'Here!'
Why, It was so possible and so actual, that, while the words were on his lips, Florence hurried past him; took Uncle Sol's snuff-coloured lapels, one in each hand; kissed him on the cheek; and turning, gave her hand to Walter with a simple truth and earnestness that was her own, and no one else's in the world!
'Going away, Walter!' said Florence.
'Yes, Miss Dombey,' he replied, but not so hopefully as he endeavoured: 'I have a voyage before me.'
'And your Uncle,' said Florence, looking back at Solomon. 'He is sorry you are going, I am sure. Ah! I see he is! Dear Walter, I am very sorry too.'
'Goodness knows,' exclaimed Miss Nipper, 'there's a many we could spare instead, if numbers is a object, Mrs Pipchin as a overseer would come cheap at her weight in gold, and if a knowledge of black slavery should be required, them Blimbers is the very people for the sitiwation.'
With that Miss Nipper untied her bonnet strings, and alter looking vacantly for some moments into a little black teapot that was set forth with the usual homely service on the table, shook her head and a tin canister, and began unasked to make the tea.
In the meantime Florence had turned again to the Instrument-maker, who was as full of admiration as surprise. 'So grown!' said old Sol. 'So improved! And yet not altered! Just the same!'
'Indeed!' said Florence.
'Ye - yes,' returned old Sol, rubbing his hands slowly, and considering the matter half aloud, as something pensive in the bright eyes looking at him arrested his attention. 'Yes, that expression was in the younger face, too!'
'You remember me,' said Florence with a smile, 'and what a little creature I was then?'
'My dear young lady,' returned the Instrument-maker, 'how could I forget you, often as I have thought of you and heard of you since! At the very moment, indeed, when you came in, Wally was talking about you to me, and leaving messages for you, and - '
'Was he?' said Florence. 'Thank you, Walter! Oh thank you, Walter! I was afraid you might be going away and hardly thinking of me;' and again she gave him her little hand so freely and so faithfully that Walter held it for some moments in his own, and could not bear to let it go.
Yet Walter did not hold it as he might have held it once, nor did its touch awaken those old day-dreams of his boyhood that had floated past him sometimes even lately, and confused him with their indistinct and broken shapes. The purity and innocence of her endearing manner, and its perfect trustfulness, and the undisguised regard for him that lay so deeply seated in her constant eyes, and glowed upon her fair face through the smile that shaded - for alas! it was a smile too sad to brighten - it, were not of their romantic race. They brought back to his thoughts the early death-bed he had seen her tending, and the love the child had borne her; and on the wings of such remembrances she seemed to rise up, far above his idle fancies, into clearer and serener air.
'I - I am afraid I must call you Walter's Uncle, Sir,' said Florence to the old man, 'if you'll let me.'
'My dear young lady,' cried old Sol. 'Let you! Good gracious!'
'We always knew you by that name, and talked of you,' said Florence, glancing round, and sighing gently. 'The nice old parlour! Just the same! How well I recollect it!'
Old Sol looked first at her, then at his nephew, and then rubbed his hands, and rubbed his spectacles, and said below his breath, 'Ah! time, time, time!'
There was a short silence; during which Susan Nipper skilfully impounded two extra cups and saucers from the cupboard, and awaited the drawing of the tea with a thoughtful air.
'I want to tell Walter's Uncle,' said Florence, laying her hand timidly upon the old man's as it rested on the table, to bespeak his attention, 'something that I am anxious about. He is going to be left alone, and if he will allow me - not to take Walter's place, for that I couldn't do, but to be his true friend and help him if I ever can while Walter is away, I shall be very much obliged to him indeed. Will you? May I, Walter's Uncle?'
The Instrument-maker, without speaking, put her hand to his lips, and Susan Nipper, leaning back with her arms crossed, in the chair of presidency into which she had voted herself, bit one end of her bonnet strings, and heaved a gentle sigh as she looked up at the skylight.
'You will let me come to see you,' said Florence, 'when I can; and you will tell me everything about yourself and Walter; and you will have no secrets from Susan when she comes and I do not, but will confide in us, and trust us, and rely upon us. And you'll try to let us be a comfort to you? Will you, Walter's Uncle?'
The sweet face looking into his, the gentle pleading eyes, the soft voice, and the light touch on his arm made the more winning by a child's respect and honour for his age, that gave to all an air of graceful doubt and modest hesitation - these, and her natural earnestness, so overcame the poor old Instrument-maker, that he only answered:
'Wally! say a word for me, my dear. I'm very grateful.'
'No, Walter,' returned Florence with her quiet smile. 'Say nothing for him, if you please. I understand him very well, and we must learn to talk together without you, dear Walter.'
The regretful tone in which she said these latter words, touched Walter more than all the rest.
'Miss Florence,' he replied, with an effort to recover the cheerful manner he had preserved while talking with his Uncle, 'I know no more than my Uncle, what to say in acknowledgment of such kindness, I am sure. But what could I say, after all, if I had the power of talking for an hour, except that it is like you?'
Susan Nipper began upon a new part of her bonnet string, and nodded at the skylight, in approval of the sentiment expressed.
'Oh! but, Walter,' said Florence, 'there is something that I wish to say to you before you go away, and you must call me Florence, if you please, and not speak like a stranger.'
'Like a stranger!' returned Walter, 'No. I couldn't speak so. I am sure, at least, I couldn't feel like one.'
'Ay, but that is not enough, and is not what I mean. For, Walter,' added Florence, bursting into tears, 'he liked you very much, and said before he died that he was fond of you, and said "Remember Walter!" and if you'll be a brother to me, Walter, now that he is gone and I have none on earth, I'll be your sister all my life, and think of you like one wherever we may be! This is what I wished to say, dear Walter, but I cannot say it as I would, because my heart is full.'
And in its fulness and its sweet simplicity, she held out both her hands to him. Walter taking them, stooped down and touched the tearful face that neither shrunk nor turned away, nor reddened as he did so, but looked up at him with confidence and truth. In that one moment, every shadow of doubt or agitation passed away from Walter's soul. It seemed to him that he responded to her innocent appeal, beside the dead child's bed: and, in the solemn presence he had seen there, pledged himself to cherish and protect her very image, in his banishment, with brotherly regard; to garner up her simple faith, inviolate; and hold himself degraded if he breathed upon it any thought that was not in her own breast when she gave it to him.
Susan Nipper, who had bitten both her bonnet strings at once, and imparted a great deal of private emotion to the skylight, during this transaction, now changed the subject by inquiring who took milk and who took sugar; and being enlightened on these points, poured out the tea. They all four gathered socially about the little table, and took tea under that young lady's active superintendence; and the presence of Florence in the back parlour, brightened the Tartar frigate on the wall.
Half an hour ago Walter, for his life, would have hardly called her by her name. But he could do so now when she entreated him. He could think of her being there, without a lurking misgiving that it would have been better if she had not come. He could calmly think how beautiful she was, how full of promise, what a home some happy man would find in such a heart one day. He could reflect upon his own place in that heart, with pride; and with a brave determination, if not to deserve it - he still thought that far above him - never to deserve it less
Some fairy influence must surely have hovered round the hands of Susan Nipper when she made the tea, engendering the tranquil air that reigned in the back parlour during its discussion. Some counter-influence must surely have hovered round the hands of Uncle Sol's chronometer, and moved them faster than the Tartar frigate ever went before the wind. Be this as it may, the visitors had a coach in waiting at a quiet corner not far off; and the chronometer, on being incidentally referred to, gave such a positive opinion that it had been waiting a long time, that it was impossible to doubt the fact, especially when stated on such unimpeachable authority. If Uncle Sol had been going to be hanged by his own time, he never would have allowed that the chronometer was too fast, by the least fraction of a second.
Florence at parting recapitulated to the old man all that she had said before, and bound him to the compact. Uncle Sol attended her lovingly to the legs of the wooden Midshipman, and there resigned her to Walter, who was ready to escort her and Susan Nipper to the coach.
'Walter,' said Florence by the way, 'I have been afraid to ask before your Uncle. Do you think you will be absent very long?'
'Indeed,' said Walter, 'I don't know. I fear so. Mr Dombey signified as much, I thought, when he appointed me.'
'Is it a favour, Walter?' inquired Florence, after a moment's hesitation, and looking anxiously in his face.
'The appointment?' returned Walter.
'Yes.'
Walter would have given anything to have answered in the affirmative, but his face answered before his lips could, and Florence was too attentive to it not to understand its reply.
'I am afraid you have scarcely been a favourite with Papa,' she said, timidly.
'There is no reason,' replied Walter, smiling, 'why I should be.'
'No reason, Walter!'
'There was no reason,' said Walter, understanding what she meant. 'There are many people employed in the House. Between Mr Dombey and a young man like me, there's a wide space of separation. If I do my duty, I do what I ought, and do no more than all the rest.'
Had Florence any misgiving of which she was hardly conscious: any misgiving that had sprung into an indistinct and undefined existence since that recent night when she had gone down to her father's room: that Walter's accidental interest in her, and early knowledge of her, might have involved him in that powerful displeasure and dislike? Had Walter any such idea, or any sudden thought that it was in her mind at that moment? Neither of them hinted at it. Neither of them spoke at all, for some short time. Susan, walking on the other side of Walter, eyed them both sharply; and certainly Miss Nipper's thoughts travelled in that direction, and very confidently too.
'You may come back very soon,' said Florence, 'perhaps, Walter.'
'I may come back,' said Walter, 'an old man, and find you an old lady. But I hope for better things.'
'Papa,' said Florence, after a moment, 'will - will recover from his grief, and - speak more freely to me one day, perhaps; and if he should, I will tell him how much I wish to see you back again, and ask him to recall you for my sake.'
There was a touching modulation in these words about her father, that Walter understood too well.
The coach being close at hand, he would have left her without speaking, for now he felt what parting was; but Florence held his hand when she was seated, and then he found there was a little packet in her own.
'Walter,' she said, looking full upon him with her affectionate eyes, 'like you, I hope for better things. I will pray for them, and believe that they will arrive. I made this little gift for Paul. Pray take it with my love, and do not look at it until you are gone away. And now, God bless you, Walter! never forget me. You are my brother, dear!'
He was glad that Susan Nipper came between them, or he might have left her with a sorrowful remembrance of him. He was glad too that she did not look out of the coach again, but waved the little hand to him instead, as long as he could see it.
In spite of her request, he could not help opening the packet that night when he went to bed. It was a little purse: and there was was money in it.
Bright rose the sun next morning, from his absence in strange countries and up rose Walter with it to receive the Captain, who was already at the door: having turned out earlier than was necessary, in order to get under weigh while Mrs MacStinger was still slumbering. The Captain pretended to be in tip-top spirits, and brought a very smoky tongue in one of the pockets of the of the broad blue coat for breakfast.
'And, Wal'r,' said the Captain, when they took their seats at table, if your Uncle's the man I think him, he'll bring out the last bottle of the Madeira on the present occasion.'
'No, no, Ned,' returned the old man. 'No! That shall be opened when Walter comes home again.'
'Well said!' cried the Captain. 'Hear him!'
'There it lies,' said Sol Gills, 'down in the little cellar, covered with dirt and cobwebs. There may be dirt and cobwebs over you and me perhaps, Ned, before it sees the light.'
'Hear him! 'cried the Captain. 'Good morality! Wal'r, my lad. Train up a fig-tree in the way it should go, and when you are old sit under the shade on it. Overhaul the - Well,' said the Captain on second thoughts, 'I ain't quite certain where that's to be found, but when found, make a note of. Sol Gills, heave ahead again!'
'But there or somewhere, it shall lie, Ned, until Wally comes back to claim it,' said the old man. 'That's all I meant to say.'
'And well said too,' returned the Captain; 'and if we three don't crack that bottle in company, I'll give you two leave to.'
Notwithstanding the Captain's excessive joviality, he made but a poor hand at the smoky tongue, though he tried very hard, when anybody looked at him, to appear as if he were eating with a vast apetite. He was terribly afraid, likewise, of being left alone with either Uncle or nephew; appearing to consider that his only chance of safety as to keeping up appearances, was in there being always three together. This terror on the part of the Captain, reduced him to such ingenious evasions as running to the door, when Solomon went to put his coat on, under pretence of having seen an extraordinary hackney-coach pass: and darting out into the road when Walter went upstairs to take leave of the lodgers, on a feint of smelling fire in a neighbouring chimney. These artifices Captain Cuttle deemed inscrutable by any uninspired observer.
Walter was coming down from his parting expedition upstairs, and was crossing the shop to go back to the little parlour, when he saw a faded face he knew, looking in at the door, and darted towards it.
'Mr Carker!' cried Walter, pressing the hand of John Carker the Junior. 'Pray come in! This is kind of you, to be here so early to say good-bye to me. You knew how glad it would make me to shake hands with you, once, before going away. I cannot say how glad I am to have this opportunity. Pray come in.'
'It is not likely that we may ever meet again, Walter,' returned the other, gently resisting his invitation, 'and I am glad of this opportunity too. I may venture to speak to you, and to take you by the hand, on the eve of separation. I shall not have to resist your frank approaches, Walter, any more.
There was a melancholy in his smile as he said it, that showed he had found some company and friendship for his thoughts even in that.
'Ah, Mr Carker!' returned Walter. 'Why did you resist them? You could have done me nothing but good, I am very sure.
He shook his head. 'If there were any good,' he said, 'I could do on this earth, I would do it, Walter, for you. The sight of you from day to day, has been at once happiness and remorse to me. But the pleasure has outweighed the pain. I know that, now, by knowing what I lose.'
'Come in, Mr Carker, and make acquaintance with my good old Uncle,' urged Walter. 'I have often talked to him about you, and he will be glad to tell you all he hears from me. I have not,' said Walter, noticing his hesitation, and speaking with embarrassment himself: 'I have not told him anything about our last conversation, Mr Carker; not even him, believe me.
The grey Junior pressed his hand, and tears rose in his eyes.
'If I ever make acquaintance with him, Walter,' he returned, 'it will be that I may hear tidings of you. Rely on my not wronging your forbearance and consideration. It would be to wrong it, not to tell him all the truth, before I sought a word of confidence from him. But I have no friend or acquaintance except you: and even for your sake, am little likely to make any.'
'I wish,' said Walter, 'you had suffered me to be your friend indeed. I always wished it, Mr Carker, as you know; but never half so much as now, when we are going to part'
'It is enough replied the other, 'that you have been the friend of my own breast, and that when I have avoided you most, my heart inclined the most towards you, and was fullest of you. Walter, good-bye!'
'Good-bye, Mr Carker. Heaven be with you, Sir!' cried Walter with emotion.
'If,' said the other, retaining his hand while he spoke; 'if when you come back, you miss me from my old corner, and should hear from anyone where I am lying, come and look upon my grave. Think that I might have been as honest and as happy as you! And let me think, when I know time is coming on, that some one like my former self may stand there, for a moment, and remember me with pity and forgiveness! Walter, good-bye!'
His figure crept like a shadow down the bright, sun-lighted street, so cheerful yet so solemn in the early summer morning; and slowly passed away.
The relentless chronometer at last announced that Walter must turn his back upon the wooden Midshipman: and away they went, himself, his Uncle, and the Captain, in a hackney-coach to a wharf, where they were to take steam-boat for some Reach down the river, the name of which, as the Captain gave it out, was a hopeless mystery to the ears of landsmen. Arrived at this Reach (whither the ship had repaired by last night's tide), they were boarded by various excited watermen, and among others by a dirty Cyclops of the Captain's acquaintance, who, with his one eye, had made the Captain out some mile and a half off, and had been exchanging unintelligible roars with him ever since. Becoming the lawful prize of this personage, who was frightfully hoarse and constitutionally in want of shaving, they were all three put aboard the Son and Heir. And the Son and Heir was in a pretty state of confusion, with sails lying all bedraggled on the wet decks, loose ropes tripping people up, men in red shirts running barefoot to and fro, casks blockading every foot of space, and, in the thickest of the fray, a black cook in a black caboose up to his eyes in vegetables and blinded with smoke.
The Captain immediately drew Walter into a corner, and with a great effort, that made his face very red, pulled up the silver watch, which was so big, and so tight in his pocket, that it came out like a bung.
'Wal'r,' said the Captain, handing it over, and shaking him heartily by the hand, 'a parting gift, my lad. Put it back half an hour every morning, and about another quarter towards the arternoon, and it's a watch that'll do you credit.'
'Captain Cuttle! I couldn't think of it!' cried Walter, detaining him, for he was running away. 'Pray take it back. I have one already.'
'Then, Wal'r,' said the Captain, suddenly diving into one of his pockets and bringing up the two teaspoons and the sugar-tongs, with which he had armed himself to meet such an objection, 'take this here trifle of plate, instead.'
'No, no, I couldn't indeed!' cried Walter, 'a thousand thanks! Don't throw them away, Captain Cuttle!' for the Captain was about to jerk them overboard. 'They'll be of much more use to you than me. Give me your stick. I have often thought I should like to have it. There! Good-bye, Captain Cuttle! Take care of my Uncle! Uncle Sol, God bless you!'
They were over the side in the confusion, before Walter caught another glimpse of either; and when he ran up to the stern, and looked after them, he saw his Uncle hanging down his head in the boat, and Captain Cuttle rapping him on the back with the great silver watch (it must have been very painful), and gesticulating hopefully with the teaspoons and sugar-tongs. Catching sight of Walter, Captain Cuttle dropped the property into the bottom of the boat with perfect unconcern, being evidently oblivious of its existence, and pulling off the glazed hat hailed him lustily. The glazed hat made quite a show in the sun with its glistening, and the Captain continued to wave it until he could be seen no longer. Then the confusion on board, which had been rapidly increasing, reached its height; two or three other boats went away with a cheer; the sails shone bright and full above, as Walter watched them spread their surface to the favourable breeze; the water flew in sparkles from the prow; and off upon her voyage went the Son and Heir, as hopefully and trippingly as many another son and heir, gone down, had started on his way before her.
Day after day, old Sol and Captain Cuttle kept her reckoning in the little hack parlour and worked out her course, with the chart spread before them on the round table. At night, when old Sol climbed upstairs, so lonely, to the attic where it sometimes blew great guns, he looked up at the stars and listened to the wind, and kept a longer watch than would have fallen to his lot on board the ship. The last bottle of the old Madeira, which had had its cruising days, and known its dangers of the deep, lay silently beneath its dust and cobwebs, in the meanwhile, undisturbed.
仪器制造商门口的木制海军军官候补生就像铁石心肠的小海军军官候补生一样,对沃尔特的离别一直极为漠不关心,甚至当沃尔特有后客厅逗留的最后一天即将消逝时也依然一样。象限仪紧挨着他像肉瘤般的一只圆鼓鼓的黑眼睛,身形像往日一样呈现出一副朝气蓬勃、不屈不挠的姿态,海军军官候补生尽量炫耀着他的像小精灵般的短裤,并埋头于科学研究,对于世俗的忧虑没有丝毫同情。他是个受环境支配的人儿;气候干燥的日子,他满身尘土;薄雾弥漫的日子,他身上复盖着点点煤烟的碎屑;下雨的日子,他失去了光泽的制服顿时焕然一新,闪闪发亮;炎热的日子,他的皮肤被晒出泡来;但是他在其他方面却是个麻木不仁、冷酷无情、自高自大的海军军官候补生,专心致志于自己的发现,对周围尘世间发生的事情不闻不问,就像阿基米得①在叙拉古被围时一样。
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①阿基米得(Archimedes,约公元前287—212年):古希腊数学家和物理学家,理论力学的创始人,生于西西里岛的叙拉古城(Syracuse,当时是希腊的殖民城市)。当叙拉古开始被罗马人围困时,他正专心研究数学,不知道外面发生的战争。
至少,在目前家中发生大事的情况下,他就是这样的一位海军军官候补生。沃尔特进进出出时向他亲切地定神看了许多次;当沃尔特不在家时,可怜的老所尔就出来靠在门柱上,把他那疲倦的戴着假发的脑袋尽量挨近这位他的店铺与营业的天才守卫者的鞋扣;可是海军军官候补生对这些向他作出的亲热殷勤的表示完全无动于衷,就像那残忍凶猛的偶像一样,嘴巴咧得大大的,由鹦鹉羽毛做成的脸孔露出一副杀气腾腾的凶相,对于他那些尚未开化的崇拜者们的恳求根本漠不关心。
沃尔特环视着他居住多年的卧室,向上望到女儿墙和烟囱;天已经黑了,这时他想到这个夜晚过去,他就要跟它也许永久分离,心情感到沉重不堪。他的一些书籍和图画已经搬走,卧室由于他的遗弃,冷淡地、责备地望着他,并早已对他未来的疏远投下了阴影。“再过几个小时之后,”沃尔特想,“这个房间就不再属于我了,就像我当小学生时在这里做过的梦一样不再属于我了一样。在我睡觉的时候,梦也许还会回来,我也许还会醒着回到这个地方,但这梦至少不会回到新的主人的脑子里去了;这房间今后也许会有二十个新主人,他们每个人也许都会改变它、冷落它或不正当地使用它。”
可是,不能让舅舅独自待在后面的小客厅里。这时,他正一个人坐在那里呢,因为卡特尔船长虽然性格粗犷,但却很能体贴人,他这时故意违背自己的心愿,没有来到,为的是使他们舅甥两人在没有旁人在场的情况下一块儿聊聊。所以,沃尔特经过最后一天的奔忙以后一回到家里,就急忙下楼去陪伴他。
“舅舅,”他把一只手搁在老人的肩膀上,快乐地说道,“我从巴巴多斯给你送些什么东西来呢?”
“把希望送来,我亲爱的沃利。在我进坟墓以前我们还能再见面的希望。你给我尽量多送一些来吧。”
“我会给你送来的,舅舅。这样的希望我多得很,不会舍不得送给你的!至于活的海龟,给卡特尔船长配制潘趣酒的柠檬,给你星期天吃的罐头食品以及其他这一类东西,等我发了财,我会整船整船给你送来的。”
老所尔擦了擦眼镜,无力地微笑着。
“这就对了,舅舅!”沃尔特愉快地喊道,又在他肩膀上拍了六下,“你鼓舞我!我鼓舞你!我们将像明天早上的云雀一样快乐,舅舅,我们将像它们一样飞得那么高!至于我的希望嘛,它现在正在望不到的高空中歌唱着呢。”
“沃利,我亲爱的孩子,”老人回答道,“我将尽我最大的努力,我将尽我最大的努力。”
“你说到你最大的努力,舅舅,”沃尔特高兴地笑着说,“那肯定是最好的努力。舅舅,你不会忘记你将送给我的东西吧?”
“不会的,沃利,不会的,”老人回答道,“我听到有关董贝小姐的一切,我将会写信告诉你。可怜的小羊羔,她现在单独一个人了。不过,我怕我听到的不多,沃利。”
“啊,舅舅,这我就要告诉你,”沃尔特迟疑了片刻,说道,“我刚刚到那里去啦。”
“啊,是吗?”老人扬起眉毛,同时也举起眼镜,说道。
“我不是去看她,”沃尔特说,“虽然我敢说,如果我要求的话,我就能见到她,因为董贝先生不在家。我是去跟苏珊说句告别的话。你知道,在当前的情况下,同时如果记得我上次见到董贝小姐的那一天的话,我是可以大胆那么做的。”
“是的,我的孩子,是的,”他的舅舅从暂时的出神中惊醒过来,回答道。
“这样,我就见到了她,”沃尔特继续说道,“我是说苏珊;我告诉她我明天就要走了。我还跟她说,舅舅,自从董贝小姐那天夜里到这里来以后,你一直很关心她,一直在祝她健康和幸福,而且总以能稍稍为她效劳而感到自豪和高兴。你知道,在当前的情况下,我是可以这样说的。你觉得是不是?”
“是的,我的孩子,是的,”他的舅舅用刚才同样的声调回答道。
“我还要再说一句,”沃尔特继续说,“如果她——我是说苏珊——由她本人,或通过理查兹大嫂或其他顺便路过这里的什么人,在什么时候,让你知道,董贝小姐健康和幸福的话,那么你将会十分感谢她的好意,并会写信告诉我,我也将会十分感谢她的好意的。好啦,全说完了。说实在的,舅舅,”沃尔特说,“昨天我因为想这件事情几乎一整夜没睡着觉;而我一出门又下不定决心,究竟去不去做这件事;可是我相信我内心的真实感情,如果我不把它表达出来的话,那么我以后一定会很痛苦的。”
他的诚实的声音和神态表明他所说的话是完全真实的,而且是坦诚的。
“因此,舅舅,如果你什么时候见到她,”沃尔特说,“我现在是说董贝小姐,——也许你会见到她的,谁知道呢!——就请你告诉她,我对她怀着多大的好感;当我在这里的时候,我一直多么想着她,在我离开前一天的夜里,舅舅,我是多么热泪盈眶地谈到她。请你告诉她,我说,我永远不会忘记她那温柔的举止,她那美丽的容貌或她那胜过一切的可爱的、善良的性情。因为这两只鞋我并不是从一个女人的脚上,也不是从一个姑娘的脚上,而只是从一个天真的小孩的脚上得到的,”沃尔特说,“舅舅,如果你不介意,就请你告诉她,我保存着这双鞋子——她会记得,那天夜里它们跌落了多少次——,并把它们当作纪念品随身带走了!”
就在这个时候,它们被装在沃尔特的一只箱子里被搬到门口。一个搬运工人正在把他的行李搬到一辆货车上,以便运到码头,装上“儿子和继承人”号;当它们的主人还没有讲完话的时候,它们已在冷淡无情的海军军官候补生的眼前被推走了。
但是那位以往的海员对运走的珍宝所表现出的冷淡无情的态度也许是情有可原的。因为,使他大吃一惊的是,就在这同一个时刻,就在他的视野圈内,就在他的眼皮底下,弗洛伦斯和苏珊•尼珀已完全进入了他高度警惕的监视范围之中。弗洛伦斯不无胆怯地望着他的脸,碰见了他那紧张惊骇的木头眼光!
不仅如此,她们还走进店铺,到了客厅的门口,除了海军军官候补生外,没有任何人注意到她们。沃尔特这时背对着门,如果不是看见舅舅从椅子中跳起来、几乎跌到另一张椅子上的话,连他当时也根本不会知道她们像幽灵似地突然来临。
“怎么了,舅舅!”沃尔特大声喊道,“出了什么事?”
老所罗门回答道:“董贝小姐!”
“可能吗?”沃尔特喊道,一边四下环视,现在轮到他跳起来了,“到这里来了?”
对了,这不仅是可能的,而且是千真万确的事实。他的话音未落,弗洛伦斯已急忙从他的身边跑过去,把所尔舅舅的鼻烟色的翻领的两边分别握在两只手中,吻了吻他的脸颊,然后转过身来,以她那独有的十分纯朴、真诚、恳切的神情,把手伸向沃尔特,这种神情确是世界上其他人所没有的!
“要离开这里了吗,沃尔特?”弗洛伦斯问道。
“是的,董贝小姐,”他回答道,但不像他努力想要表示出的那么乐观开朗,“我将外出航行。”
“您的舅舅,”弗洛伦斯又回过来望着所罗门,说道,“您出去他一定感到难过。唉,我看他是这样的!亲爱的沃尔特,我也感到很难过。”
“天知道,”尼珀姑娘高声嚷道,“世界上有许多人,我们没有他们也行,如果要精明善算的人,派皮普钦太太去当监工,称黄金,准能买到便宜的黄金,如果需要对付黑奴的知识,布林伯他们这家人就是最合适的人选。”
尼珀小姐一边说,一边解开帽带,接着向桌子上和其他家常茶具摆在一起的一只小黑茶壶里面发呆地看了一会儿,然后摇摇头,又摇摇洋铁皮的茶叶罐,没经人请就泡起茶来。
在这期间,弗洛伦斯又转向了仪器制造商;他对她极为赞赏,又感到极为惊奇。“长得这么大了!”老所尔说,“长得这么漂亮!可是一点没有变!跟原先一模一样!”
“真的吗?”弗洛伦斯说。
“是——是的,”老所尔回答道,一边慢吞吞地搓着手,低声地思考着这个问题,这时那双向他望着的明亮的眼睛中的沉思的神情吸引了他的注意,“是的,过去那张更年轻的脸上也曾表露过这样的神情!”
“您还记得我哪,”弗洛伦斯微笑着说道,“那时候我是个多么小的小人儿啊?”
“我亲爱的小姐,”仪器制造商回答道,“我怎么能忘记您呢?从那时起,我多么经常地想到您,多么经常地听到您的消息!说真的,就在您进来的时候,沃利还正在跟我谈起您,给您留下口信,还——”
“真的吗?”弗洛伦斯说道,“谢谢您,沃尔特!啊,谢谢您,沃尔特!我还怕您走了以后不会再想到我了呢。”接着她又无拘无束、充分信任地向沃尔特伸出小手;他把它在自己手中握了好几秒钟,舍不得放开。
可是沃尔特并不像先前那样握它,这样的接触也没有唤醒过去童年时代的那些白日梦,甚至最近这些梦有时还会从他面前漂浮过去,并以它们那模糊不清、支离破碎的形状使他心烦意乱。她那天真纯洁、可亲可爱的神态,她在专注的眼光中深切表露出的以及在俊俏的脸上通过微笑(这微笑太悲哀了,它在她脸上投下了阴影,不能使它容光焕发)洋溢着的对他的完全信任与真诚关怀,所有这些都不是浪漫性质的。它们使他回想起了他曾看到她殷勤看护的那张夭逝的小床,回想起了那男孩对她所怀的热爱,靠着这些回忆的翅膀,她似乎已远远地超越了他的那些胡思乱想,飞升到那更为明净、更为宁静的高空之中了。
“我——我想,我得管您叫沃尔特的舅舅,先生,”弗洛伦斯对老人说,“如果您允许的话。”
“我亲爱的小姐,”老所尔喊道,“如果我允许的话!我的上帝!”
“我们常常是以这个称呼来了解您和谈起您的,”弗洛伦斯向四周看了一眼,轻轻地叹气道,“可爱的老客厅!完全跟先前一模一样!我把它记得多么清楚啊!”
老所尔先看看她,又看看他的外甥,然后搓搓手,又擦擦眼镜,低声说道,“唉,时间啊,时间啊,时间啊!”
接着是短暂的沉默;在这段时间中苏珊•尼珀灵巧地从碗柜里取出了两只带碟子的茶杯,并以若有所思的神气等待着泡茶。
“我想跟沃尔特的舅舅说点我很担心的事,”弗洛伦斯胆怯地把手放在老人搁在桌子上的手上,以便引起他的注意,说道,“他很快就要单独一个人了,如果他允许我——不是代替沃尔特,因为那是我做不到的,而是在沃尔特不在的时候成为他的真诚的朋友,并尽我的力量来帮助他,那我就会十分感谢他。您肯允许我吗?我可以吗,沃尔特舅舅?”
仪器制造商默默无言地把她的手拉到他的嘴唇上。苏珊•尼珀两手交叉,背靠在她自行充任的主席的椅子上,这时咬着帽带的一端,仰望着天窗,轻轻地叹了口气。
“如果我可能的话,那么请允许我来看您,”弗洛伦斯说,“那时请您告诉我您自己和沃尔特的一切事情;如果苏珊代替我来的话,那么就请您不要对她保守秘密,请您信任我们,信赖我们,依靠我们。请您设法让我们成为您的安慰,您愿意吗,沃尔特的舅舅?”
那张望着他的可爱的脸孔,那双关切的恳求的眼睛,那个温柔的声音,以及她在他胳膊上轻轻的抚摸,本来就使她显得十分亲切可爱,再加上女孩子对他年龄所怀有的崇敬与尊重,这就使她更加得人欢心,当时她表露出一种优雅得体的疑惑不定的神情和由于谦虚羞怯而犹豫不决的神情——所有这一切,以及她那出乎天性的恳切的态度,完全征服了这位可怜的年老的仪器制造商,他只是回答道:
“沃利,为我说一句话吧,我亲爱的,我太感激了。”
“不,沃尔特,”弗洛伦斯平静地微笑着回答道,“请您一句话也不要为他说。我很了解他,我们必须学会在您不在场的时候相互交谈,亲爱的沃尔特。”
她说最后几个字时惋惜的声调比其他的一切更使他感动。
“弗洛伦斯小姐,”他努力恢复刚才跟舅舅谈话时所保持的高兴的神态,回答道,“说真的,我跟舅舅一样,不知道说些什么话来感谢您的深情厚意。可是即使我能说上一个小时,我除了说这再一次表明了您的为人之外,我究竟还能说些别的什么呢?”
苏珊•尼珀开始咬她帽带另外的一端,并向天窗点点头,表示赞成沃尔特表达出来的感情。
“啊,沃尔特,”弗洛伦斯说道,“可是在您走之前,我还想跟您再说些话,请你一定管我叫弗洛伦斯,而不要像一个陌生人那样跟我说话。”
“像一个陌生人一样!”沃尔特答道,“不,我不能那样说的。我相信,至少我没有这样的感觉。”
“是的,但是那样还不够,我也不是这个意思。因为,沃尔特,”弗洛伦斯眼泪满满地涌流出来,继续说道,“他很喜欢您,临死的时候还说他爱您,又说,‘别忘记沃尔特!’现在他已死了,我在世界上没有兄弟了,如果您做我的哥哥,沃尔特,我将一辈子做您的妹妹,不论我们将来在什么地方,我都会像想到哥哥那样想到您!这就是我想要说的,亲爱的沃尔特,可是我却不能说得像我想说的那样好,因为千言万语充满了我的心怀,我不知该说什么好。”
她怀着那颗充满了感情、纯朴可爱的心,把双手向他伸过去。沃尔特握着它们,弯下身子,嘴唇接触到她的流满了眼泪的脸;当他这样做的时候,她的脸没有退缩,没有转开,也没有发红,而是信赖地、真诚地仰望着他。在那瞬刻之间,任何怀疑或焦虑的阴影都从沃尔特的心灵中消失了;他似乎觉得,他是在那死去的孩子的床边回答她的天真的请求,并且在那个他曾亲眼看到的庄严的场合中发誓说,在他放逐在外的时候,他将以他兄弟般的关怀,珍爱和保护她的形象;他将保持她纯朴的信任,不让遭到破坏;如果他怀有任何当她对他表示信任时心中不曾怀有的思想,因而辜负了这样的信任时,他就认为自己卑鄙可耻。
苏珊•尼珀在这过程中已经同时咬住帽带的两端,并向天窗传送了她本人的许多感情,这时她改变话题,问大家谁要牛奶,谁要糖;这些问题得到回答以后,她就开始倒茶。他们四人和睦友爱地围坐在小桌子的旁边,在那位姑娘殷勤的指挥下开始喝茶;弗洛伦斯光临后客厅,使墙上带帆的鞑靼战舰发出了光辉。
半个小时以前,沃尔特无论如何也不敢放肆地用她的名字喊她。可是现在只要她请求,他就可以这样喊她。当他想到她来到这里的时候,不仅又在暗暗地担心:如果她不来反而更好。他可以平静地想到她长得多么美,想到多么大有希望,想到有朝一日某一位幸福的男子在她这样一颗心中将会得到多少缱绻柔情。他可以自豪地想到他在这颗心中也占有一席之地;并毅然下定决心,如果他现在还不配得到它的话——他仍然认为它高不可攀——他决不能在将来比现在更不配得到它。
一定有什么神力支配着苏珊•尼珀倒茶的手,并产生了笼罩着后客厅中喝茶谈话时的平静的气氛。一定又有什么敌对的魔力支配着精密计时表的指针,使它们走得比永远在顺风中航行的鞑靼战舰还快。不管怎么样,客人们是有一辆轿式马车在一个不远的安静的角落里等待着的;当他们偶尔看到精密计时表时,它确凿地指明,马车已经等待得很长久了;这个事实是不容怀疑的,当它由这样一个无可指责的权威说明时尤其如此。如果所尔舅舅要按照他自己的时间处以绞刑的话,那么他也不会承认这精密计时表走快了一秒钟的万分之一。
弗洛伦斯在离别时又把所有她刚才说过的话向老人扼要地重说了一遍,并要他保证遵守他们所达成的协议。所尔舅舅亲切地陪她走到木制海军军官候补生的腿边,在那里把她交给沃尔特;沃尔特欣然地护送着她与苏珊,向马车走去。
“沃尔特,”弗洛伦斯在路上说道,“我刚才当着你舅舅的面不敢问您。您认为您将离开很久吗?”
“说实在的,”沃尔特说,“我也不知道。我怕会这样。董贝先生指派我的时候,我觉得他表示了这样的意思。”
“这是不是对您的一种恩惠,沃尔特?”弗洛伦斯迟疑了片刻后问道,同时忧虑地望着他的脸。
“您是指这次指派吗?”沃尔特反问道。
“是的。”
沃尔特非常想给予肯定的回答,但是他的脸色比他的嘴回答得早,弗洛伦斯又是那么注意地观察着,所以她不可能不理解它的回答。
“我怕您不是我爸爸所宠爱的人,”她胆怯地说道。
“没有什么理由我必须是,”沃尔特微笑着回答道。
“没有理由吗,沃尔特?”
“过去没有什么理由,”沃尔特明白她的意思,说道,“公司里雇用着许多人。在董贝先生和像我这样的一个年轻人之间,有着一个很宽阔的距离。如果我尽我的职责,我就做我应当做的事,而不做任何其他有情。”
在弗洛伦斯心上是不是有着她还不怎么意识到的忧虑,是不是自从最近那天夜间她走到楼下她父亲房间去以后她心中产生出一种模糊不清和不可名状的忧虑:沃尔特由于偶然的原因对她产生兴趣以及过早地认识她,这会引起她父亲对他强烈的不快和讨厌?在沃尔特心中是不是也有这样的想法,或者突然想到在这个时刻她的心中也正在这么想?在短短的一段时间中,他们两人谁也没有说话。走在沃尔特另一边的苏珊敏锐地注视着他们两人;尼珀姑娘的思想肯定也朝着那个方向转悠,并且十分相信自己的看法是正确的。
“您可能很快就会回来的,”弗洛伦斯说道,“也许会这样的,沃尔特。”
“我可能回来时已成了个老头子了,”沃尔特说道,“并且看到您已成了个老太太了。不过我往好里希望。”
“爸爸,”弗洛伦斯沉默了片刻之后说,“也许会——会从悲痛中恢复过来,有一天会——更无拘无束地跟我说话;如果那样的话,那么我将告诉他,我是多么希望看到您重新回来,并请求他为了我的缘故把您调回来。”
她谈到她父亲的这些话声调压抑,缺乏信心,令人感动,沃尔特听得很明白。
马车就在近旁,他本来会默默无言地跟她分手的,因为他这时真正感觉到离别的滋味了;可是弗洛伦斯坐下以后握住他的手,这时他觉得她手中有一个小包包。
“沃尔特,”她用感情深厚的眼光望着他的脸,说道,“我像您一样,也希望有美好的将来。我将祈求它,相信它会来临。我为保罗准备了这个小小的礼物,请随同我的爱把它拿走吧,在您离别之前别去看它。愿上帝保佑您,沃尔特!千万别忘记我。您是我的哥哥呀,亲爱的!”
他感到高兴的是,苏珊•尼珀这时走到他们中间,要不然他就会给她留下一个关于他的悲伤的回忆了。他又感到高兴的是,她没有再从马车里往外望,而是向他挥着小手,一直到他望不见为止。
他在当天夜里睡觉之前,不顾她的请求,还是忍不住把那小包包打开了。这是个小小的钱包,里面装着钱。
第二天早晨,太阳从异国他乡返回,光辉灿烂地升起,沃尔特也随同它一道起来,去迎接早已在门口的船长。船长本不需要这么早就起床,但他是为了在麦克斯廷杰太太还在睡觉的时候就上路才这么做的;他假装情绪高昂,在他宽大的蓝色外衣的一个口袋中带来一条熏得很黑的舌头作为早餐。
“沃尔,”当他们在桌旁坐下的时候,船长说道,“如果你舅舅是我所想的那种人,遇上今天这样的日子,他是会取出他最后的那瓶马德拉白葡萄酒的。”
“不,不,内德,”老人回答道,“不,那瓶酒等沃尔特重新回到家里时再打开。”
“说得好!”船长喊道,“听他说吧!”
“它躺在那里,”所尔•吉尔斯说,“躺在下面的小地窖里,上面覆盖着尘土和蜘蛛网。在它重见阳光之前,内德,也许你和我身上也已覆盖着尘土和蜘蛛网了。”
“听他说吧!”船长喊道,“极妙的寓意!沃尔,我的孩子,栽一株无花果,让它好好长大,等你老了,就坐在树荫下休息。翻一下——不过,”船长想了一下,说,“我不能很肯定从哪本书里可以找到这句话;可是你要是收到的话,请把它记下来。所尔•吉尔斯。重新往前用力拉吧①!”
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①这是水手在起锚时的劳动号子,船长借用它来要所尔•吉尔斯继续往下说。
“可是它得躺在那里或别的什么地方,内德,直到沃利回来要求喝它的时候,”老人说道,“这就是我所想要说的一切。”
“说得也不错,”船长回答道,“如果我们三人不能一起打开那瓶酒的话,那么我允许你们两人把我的那份也喝掉!”
船长虽然谈笑风生,十分兴高采烈,但他对付那条熏黑的舌头的本领却怪差劲,尽管当有人看着他的时候,他极力装出胃口很好地吃着。而且,他很害怕和舅舅或外甥单独在一起,好像他认为,他要保持这种春风满面的神态,唯一安全的机会是三个人老待在一起。船长由于怀有这种恐惧心理,他就想出了好些机智的逃避方法:当所罗门走去穿外衣的时候,他就假装看到一辆不同寻常的出租马车经过而跑到门口;当沃尔特上楼去跟房客们告别时,他就假装闻到邻近烟囱的火焦味而冲到街上。船长认为,没有灵感的观察者是很难看破他的这些巧计的。
沃尔特去楼上告别之后走下楼来,正穿过店铺向小客厅走回的时候,他看到一张他认识的憔悴的脸正向门里探望,就立即向他急冲过去。
“卡克先生!”沃尔特紧握着约翰•卡克先生的手,喊道,“请进来吧!您真客气,起得这么早来向我告别。您知道,我多么高兴能在离别之前再跟您握一次手啊。我说不出我是多么高兴能有这个机会。请进来吧!”
“我们不见得以后还能再见面了,沃尔特,”那一位委婉地谢绝了他的邀请,“我也因为有这个机会而感到高兴。在即将离别之前,我也许可以不揣冒昧地来跟您说说话和握握手。
沃尔特,我将不再迫不得已反对您坦率地跟我接近了”。
当他说这些话的时候,在他的微笑中还带有一些忧郁的东西,这表明他甚至在沃尔特要跟他接近的想法本身中也看到了关怀与友谊。
“唉,卡克先生!”沃尔特回答道,“您为什么要反对呢?
我完全相信,您只会做对我有益的事情。”
他摇摇头。“如果在这世界上我能做点儿什么有益事情的话,那么我将会为您做的。我一天天看到您,对我来说,既感到快乐,又引起悔恨。但是高兴超过了痛苦。现在我明白了这一点,因为我知道我失去什么了。”
“请进来吧,卡克先生,来跟我善良的年老的舅舅认识认识吧,”沃尔特催促着,“我常常跟他说到您,他将会高兴把从我那里听到的一切告诉您;我没有,”沃尔特注意到他的迟疑,他自己也感到局促不安地说道,“我没有跟他说起我们上次谈话的内容,什么也没有说;卡克先生;甚至对他我也不说,请相信我。”
这位头发斑白的低级职员紧握着他的手,眼睛里涌出了泪水。
“如果我什么时候跟他认识,沃尔特,”他回答道,“那么那只是为了可以从他那里打听到您的消息。请相信我决不会对不起您对我的宽容与关心。如果我在取得他的信任之前不把全部真情告诉他,那么我就对不起您的宽容与关心了。但是我除了您,没有别的朋友或熟人;甚至为了您的缘故我也未必会去找。”
“我希望,”沃尔特说,“您已真正允许我做您的朋友。卡克先生;您知道,我经常是这样希望的;可是这希望从不曾像现在我们就要分别的时候这么强烈。”
“您一直是我心里的朋友,当我愈是避开您的时候,我的心就愈是向着您,愈是一心一意地想着您——我想这就够了。
沃尔特,再见吧!”
“再见吧,卡克先生,愿老天爷保佑您,先生!”沃尔特激动地喊道。
“如果,”那一位继续握着他的手说道,“如果您回来时,在我原先的角落里看不到我,并从别人那里打听到我躺在什么地方的话,那么请来看看我的坟墓吧。请想一想,我本来是可以跟您一样诚实和幸福的!当我知道我的死期就要来临的时候,请让我想到,有一位像我过去一样的人会在那里站上片刻,怀着怜悯与宽恕的心情记得我的!沃尔特,再见吧!”
夏日清晨的街道布满了阳光,明明亮亮,那么令人爽心悦目,又那么庄严肃穆;他的身形像一个影子似的,沿着这条街道缓慢地移行着,最后消失不见了。
毫不留情的精密计时表终于宣告:沃尔特必须离别木制海军军官候补生了。他们——他自己、舅舅和船长——乘着一辆出租马车动身前往码头,再从码头搭乘汽艇到河流下面的一个河段;当船长说出它的名称时,陆地上的人们听起来真像是个不可思议、神奇莫测的秘密。当汽艇乘着昨夜的涨潮,开到这个河段之后,他们被一群情绪兴奋的划小船的船家团团围住,里面有一位是船长认识的肮脏的赛克洛普斯①;他虽然只有一只眼睛,但在一英里半之外就认出了船长,从那时起就跟他交换着难以理解的么喝。这位胡子拉碴、嗓子嘶哑得可怕的人,把他们三人当成了合法的战利品,运送到“儿子和继承人”号上。“儿子和继承人”号上十分混乱,沾着泥水的船帆被撂在湿漉漉的甲板上,没有拉紧的绳索把人们绊倒,穿着红衬衫的船员们赤着脚跑来跑去,木桶堵塞着每一小块空处;在这一切杂乱的中心,甲板上黑厨房中的一位黑厨师周围堆满了蔬菜,一直堆到他的眼睛底下,他的眼睛被烟薰得几乎失明。
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①赛克洛普斯(Cyclops):希腊神话中的独眼巨人。
船长立即把沃尔特拉到一个角落里,脸孔涨得通红,使劲地拉出了那只银表;那只表很大,在他的衣袋中塞得又很紧,所以把它拉出的时候就像从桶口拔出个大塞子似的。
“沃尔,”船长把它递过去,并热烈地握着他的手说道,“这是告别的礼物,我的孩子。每天早上把它往后拨半小时,到中午再往后拨一刻钟左右。这只表是你可以引以自豪的。”
“卡特尔船长!我不能要这个!”沃尔特喊道,一边拦住他,因为他正要跑开。“请拿回去。我已经有一只了。”
“那么,沃尔,”船长突然把手伸进另一只口袋。取出两只茶匙和一副方糖箝子,他装备着这些东西就是为了防备遭到拒绝时用的。“就请改拿走这些喝茶用的小东西吧!”
“不,不,说真的,我不能拿走!”沃尔特喊道,“千谢万谢!别扔掉,卡特尔船长!”因为船长正想要把它们投掷到船外。“它们对您比对我有用得多。把您的手杖给我吧。我时常想,我要能有它该多好啊。唔,这就是!再见,卡特尔船长!
请照顾照顾舅舅吧!所尔舅舅,上帝保佑你!”
沃尔特没来得及再望他们一眼,他们已经在混乱之中离开大船了;当他跑到船尾,目送着他们的时候,他看见舅舅坐在小船里低垂着头,卡特尔船长用那只大银表拍打着他的背(那一定很痛),还精神抖擞地用茶匙和方糖箝子打着手势。卡特尔船长瞧见沃尔特时,显然忘记了他还有这些财产,漫不经心地把它们掉落到小船船底,同时脱下了上了光的帽子,拼命地向他欢呼。上了光的帽子在阳光下闪闪发光,大出风头,船长不断地挥舞着它,直到望不见沃尔特为止。船上一直在迅速增加的杂乱这时达到了高潮;另外两三只小船在欢呼声中离开;当沃尔特望着船帆在顺风中舒展开帆面的时候,船帆在上空明亮和丰满地闪耀着;浪花从船头飞溅过来;“儿子和继承人”号就这样雄赳赳气昂昂地、轻轻快快地启程航行,就像在它之前已经走上旅程的其他许多儿子和继承人一样,一直向前行进。
老所尔和卡特尔船长在小后客厅里一天天在圆桌上摊开地图,推算着船舶的航行距离,研究着它的航线。夜里,当老所尔十分孤独地走上楼去,一直走到有时大风猛刮的顶楼上时,他仰望着星星,静听着风声;如果让他在那艘船上值夜,也不会像他现在值得这么长久。那最后一瓶马德拉白葡萄酒曾经度过漂洋过海的日子,体验过海洋深处的危险,这时却安安静静地躺在尘土和蜘蛛网下面,谁也不去打搅它。
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