派派小说论坛 English Corner 名利场 —— Vanity Fair中英文对照【完结】

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[Novel] 名利场 —— Vanity Fair中英文对照【完结】

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CHAPTER LVII
Eothen
It was one of the many causes for personal pride with which old Osborne chose to recreate himself that Sedley, his ancient rival, enemy, and benefactor, was in his last days so utterly defeated and humiliated as to be forced to accept pecuniary obligations at the hands of the man who had most injured and insulted him. The successful man of the world cursed the old pauper and relieved him from time to time. As he furnished George with money for his mother, he gave the boy to understand by hints, delivered in his brutal, coarse way, that George's maternal grandfather was but a wretched old bankrupt and dependant, and that John Sedley might thank the man to whom he already owed ever so much money for the aid which his generosity now chose to administer. George carried the pompous supplies to his mother and the shattered old widower whom it was now the main business of her life to tend and comfort. The little fellow patronized the feeble and disappointed old man.
It may have shown a want of "proper pride" in Amelia that she chose to accept these money benefits at the hands of her father's enemy. But proper pride and this poor lady had never had much acquaintance together. A disposition naturally simple and demanding protection; a long course of poverty and humility, of daily privations, and hard words, of kind offices and no returns, had been her lot ever since womanhood almost, or since her luckless marriage with George Osborne. You who see your betters bearing up under this shame every day, meekly suffering under the slights of fortune, gentle and unpitied, poor, and rather despised for their poverty, do you ever step down from your prosperity and wash the feet of these poor wearied beggars? The very thought of them is odious and low. "There must be classes--there must be rich and poor," Dives says, smacking his claret (it is well if he even sends the broken meat out to Lazarus sitting under the window). Very true; but think how mysterious and often unaccountable it is--that lottery of life which gives to this man the purple and fine linen and sends to the other rags for garments and dogs for comforters.
So I must own that, without much repining, on the contrary with something akin to gratitude, Amelia took the crumbs that her father- in-law let drop now and then, and with them fed her own parent. Directly she understood it to be her duty, it was this young woman's nature (ladies, she is but thirty still, and we choose to call her a young woman even at that age) it was, I say, her nature to sacrifice herself and to fling all that she had at the feet of the beloved object. During what long thankless nights had she worked out her fingers for little Georgy whilst at home with her; what buffets, scorns, privations, poverties had she endured for father and mother! And in the midst of all these solitary resignations and unseen sacrifices, she did not respect herself any more than the world respected her, but I believe thought in her heart that she was a poor-spirited, despicable little creature, whose luck in life was only too good for her merits. O you poor women! O you poor secret martyrs and victims, whose life is a torture, who are stretched on racks in your bedrooms, and who lay your heads down on the block daily at the drawing-room table; every man who watches your pains, or peers into those dark places where the torture is administered to you, must pity you--and--and thank God that he has a beard. I recollect seeing, years ago, at the prisons for idiots and madmen at Bicetre, near Paris, a poor wretch bent down under the bondage of his imprisonment and his personal infirmity, to whom one of our party gave a halfpenny worth of snuff in a cornet or "screw" of paper. The kindness was too much for the poor epileptic creature. He cried in an anguish of delight and gratitude: if anybody gave you and me a thousand a year, or saved our lives, we could not be so affected. And so, if you properly tyrannize over a woman, you will find a h'p'orth of kindness act upon her and bring tears into her eyes, as though you were an angel benefiting her.
Some such boons as these were the best which Fortune allotted to poor little Amelia. Her life, begun not unprosperously, had come down to this--to a mean prison and a long, ignoble bondage. Little George visited her captivity sometimes and consoled it with feeble gleams of encouragement. Russell Square was the boundary of her prison: she might walk thither occasionally, but was always back to sleep in her cell at night; to perform cheerless duties; to watch by thankless sick-beds; to suffer the harassment and tyranny of querulous disappointed old age. How many thousands of people are there, women for the most part, who are doomed to endure this long slavery?--who are hospital nurses without wages--sisters of Charity, if you like, without the romance and the sentiment of sacrifice--who strive, fast, watch, and suffer, unpitied, and fade away ignobly and unknown.
The hidden and awful Wisdom which apportions the destinies of mankind is pleased so to humiliate and cast down the tender, good, and wise, and to set up the selfish, the foolish, or the wicked. Oh, be humble, my brother, in your prosperity! Be gentle with those who are less lucky, if not more deserving. Think, what right have you to be scornful, whose virtue is a deficiency of temptation, whose success may be a chance, whose rank may be an ancestor's accident, whose prosperity is very likely a satire.
They buried Amelia's mother in the churchyard at Brompton, upon just such a rainy, dark day as Amelia recollected when first she had been there to marry George. Her little boy sat by her side in pompous new sables. She remembered the old pew-woman and clerk. Her thoughts were away in other times as the parson read. But that she held George's hand in her own, perhaps she would have liked to change places with.... Then, as usual, she felt ashamed of her selfish thoughts and prayed inwardly to be strengthened to do her duty.
So she determined with all her might and strength to try and make her old father happy. She slaved, toiled, patched, and mended, sang and played backgammon, read out the newspaper, cooked dishes, for old Sedley, walked him out sedulously into Kensington Gardens or the Brompton Lanes, listened to his stories with untiring smiles and affectionate hypocrisy, or sat musing by his side and communing with her own thoughts and reminiscences, as the old man, feeble and querulous, sunned himself on the garden benches and prattled about his wrongs or his sorrows. What sad, unsatisfactory thoughts those of the widow were! The children running up and down the slopes and broad paths in the gardens reminded her of George, who was taken from her; the first George was taken from her; her selfish, guilty love, in both instances, had been rebuked and bitterly chastised. She strove to think it was right that she should be so punished. She was such a miserable wicked sinner. She was quite alone in the world.
I know that the account of this kind of solitary imprisonment is insufferably tedious, unless there is some cheerful or humorous incident to enliven it--a tender gaoler, for instance, or a waggish commandant of the fortress, or a mouse to come out and play about Latude's beard and whiskers, or a subterranean passage under the castle, dug by Trenck with his nails and a toothpick: the historian has no such enlivening incident to relate in the narrative of Amelia's captivity. Fancy her, if you please, during this period, very sad, but always ready to smile when spoken to; in a very mean, poor, not to say vulgar position of life; singing songs, making puddings, playing cards, mending stockings, for her old father's benefit. So, never mind, whether she be a heroine or no; or you and I, however old, scolding, and bankrupt--may we have in our last days a kind soft shoulder on which to lean and a gentle hand to soothe our gouty old pillows.
Old Sedley grew very fond of his daughter after his wife's death, and Amelia had her consolation in doing her duty by the old man.
But we are not going to leave these two people long in such a low and ungenteel station of life. Better days, as far as worldly prosperity went, were in store for both. Perhaps the ingenious reader has guessed who was the stout gentleman who called upon Georgy at his school in company with our old friend Major Dobbin. It was another old acquaintance returned to England, and at a time when his presence was likely to be of great comfort to his relatives there.
Major Dobbin having easily succeeded in getting leave from his good- natured commandant to proceed to Madras, and thence probably to Europe, on urgent private affairs, never ceased travelling night and day until he reached his journey's end, and had directed his march with such celerity that he arrived at Madras in a high fever. His servants who accompanied him brought him to the house of the friend with whom he had resolved to stay until his departure for Europe in a state of delirium; and it was thought for many, many days that he would never travel farther than the burying-ground of the church of St. George's, where the troops should fire a salvo over his grave, and where many a gallant officer lies far away from his home.
Here, as the poor fellow lay tossing in his fever, the people who watched him might have heard him raving about Amelia. The idea that he should never see her again depressed him in his lucid hours. He thought his last day was come, and he made his solemn preparations for departure, setting his affairs in this world in order and leaving the little property of which he was possessed to those whom he most desired to benefit. The friend in whose house he was located witnessed his testament. He desired to be buried with a little brown hair-chain which he wore round his neck and which, if the truth must be known, he had got from Amelia's maid at Brussels, when the young widow's hair was cut off, during the fever which prostrated her after the death of George Osborne on the plateau at Mount St. John.
He recovered, rallied, relapsed again, having undergone such a process of blood-letting and calomel as showed the strength of his original constitution. He was almost a skeleton when they put him on board the Ramchunder East Indiaman, Captain Bragg, from Calcutta, touching at Madras, and so weak and prostrate that his friend who had tended him through his illness prophesied that the honest Major would never survive the voyage, and that he would pass some morning, shrouded in flag and hammock, over the ship's side, and carrying down to the sea with him the relic that he wore at his heart. But whether it was the sea air, or the hope which sprung up in him afresh, from the day that the ship spread her canvas and stood out of the roads towards home, our friend began to amend, and he was quite well (though as gaunt as a greyhound) before they reached the Cape. "Kirk will be disappointed of his majority this time," he said with a smile; "he will expect to find himself gazetted by the time the regiment reaches home." For it must be premised that while the Major was lying ill at Madras, having made such prodigious haste to go thither, the gallant --th, which had passed many years abroad, which after its return from the West Indies had been baulked of its stay at home by the Waterloo campaign, and had been ordered from Flanders to India, had received orders home; and the Major might have accompanied his comrades, had he chosen to wait for their arrival at Madras.
Perhaps he was not inclined to put himself in his exhausted state again under the guardianship of Glorvina. "I think Miss O'Dowd would have done for me," he said laughingly to a fellow-passenger, "if we had had her on board, and when she had sunk me, she would have fallen upon you, depend upon it, and carried you in as a prize to Southampton, Jos, my boy."
For indeed it was no other than our stout friend who was also a passenger on board the Ramchunder. He had passed ten years in Bengal. Constant dinners, tiffins, pale ale and claret, the prodigious labour of cutcherry, and the refreshment of brandy-pawnee which he was forced to take there, had their effect upon Waterloo Sedley. A voyage to Europe was pronounced necessary for him--and having served his full time in India and had fine appointments which had enabled him to lay by a considerable sum of money, he was free to come home and stay with a good pension, or to return and resume that rank in the service to which his seniority and his vast talents entitled him.
He was rather thinner than when we last saw him, but had gained in majesty and solemnity of demeanour. He had resumed the mustachios to which his services at Waterloo entitled him, and swaggered about on deck in a magnificent velvet cap with a gold band and a profuse ornamentation of pins and jewellery about his person. He took breakfast in his cabin and dressed as solemnly to appear on the quarter-deck as if he were going to turn out for Bond Street, or the Course at Calcutta. He brought a native servant with him, who was his valet and pipe-bearer and who wore the Sedley crest in silver on his turban. That oriental menial had a wretched life under the tyranny of Jos Sedley. Jos was as vain of his person as a woman, and took as long a time at his toilette as any fading beauty. The youngsters among the passengers, Young Chaffers of the 150th, and poor little Ricketts, coming home after his third fever, used to draw out Sedley at the cuddy-table and make him tell prodigious stories about himself and his exploits against tigers and Napoleon. He was great when he visited the Emperor's tomb at Longwood, when to these gentlemen and the young officers of the ship, Major Dobbin not being by, he described the whole battle of Waterloo and all but announced that Napoleon never would have gone to Saint Helena at all but for him, Jos Sedley.
After leaving St. Helena he became very generous, disposing of a great quantity of ship stores, claret, preserved meats, and great casks packed with soda-water, brought out for his private delectation. There were no ladies on board; the Major gave the pas of precedency to the civilian, so that he was the first dignitary at table, and treated by Captain Bragg and the officers of the Ramchunder with the respect which his rank warranted. He disappeared rather in a panic during a two-days' gale, in which he had the portholes of his cabin battened down, and remained in his cot reading the Washerwoman of Finchley Common, left on board the Ramchunder by the Right Honourable the Lady Emily Hornblower, wife of the Rev. Silas Hornblower, when on their passage out to the Cape, where the Reverend gentleman was a missionary; but, for common reading, he had brought a stock of novels and plays which he lent to the rest of the ship, and rendered himself agreeable to all by his kindness and condescension.
Many and many a night as the ship was cutting through the roaring dark sea, the moon and stars shining overhead and the bell singing out the watch, Mr. Sedley and the Major would sit on the quarter- deck of the vessel talking about home, as the Major smoked his cheroot and the civilian puffed at the hookah which his servant prepared for him.
In these conversations it was wonderful with what perseverance and ingenuity Major Dobbin would manage to bring the talk round to the subject of Amelia and her little boy. Jos, a little testy about his father's misfortunes and unceremonious applications to him, was soothed down by the Major, who pointed out the elder's ill fortunes and old age. He would not perhaps like to live with the old couple, whose ways and hours might not agree with those of a younger man, accustomed to different society (Jos bowed at this compliment); but, the Major pointed out, how advantageous it would be for Jos Sedley to have a house of his own in London, and not a mere bachelor's establishment as before; how his sister Amelia would be the very person to preside over it; how elegant, how gentle she was, and of what refined good manners. He recounted stories of the success which Mrs. George Osborne had had in former days at Brussels, and in London, where she was much admired by people of very great fashion; and he then hinted how becoming it would be for Jos to send Georgy to a good school and make a man of him, for his mother and her parents would be sure to spoil him. In a word, this artful Major made the civilian promise to take charge of Amelia and her unprotected child. He did not know as yet what events had happened in the little Sedley family, and how death had removed the mother, and riches had carried off George from Amelia. But the fact is that every day and always, this love-smitten and middle-aged gentleman was thinking about Mrs. Osborne, and his whole heart was bent upon doing her good. He coaxed, wheedled, cajoled, and complimented Jos Sedley with a perseverance and cordiality of which he was not aware himself, very likely; but some men who have unmarried sisters or daughters even, may remember how uncommonly agreeable gentlemen are to the male relations when they are courting the females; and perhaps this rogue of a Dobbin was urged by a similar hypocrisy.
The truth is, when Major Dobbin came on board the Ramchumder, very sick, and for the three days she lay in the Madras Roads, he did not begin to rally, nor did even the appearance and recognition of his old acquaintance, Mr. Sedley, on board much cheer him, until after a conversation which they had one day, as the Major was laid languidly on the deck. He said then he thought he was doomed; he had left a little something to his godson in his will, and he trusted Mrs. Osborne would remember him kindly and be happy in the marriage she was about to make. "Married? not the least," Jos answered; "he had heard from her: she made no mention of the marriage, and by the way, it was curious, she wrote to say that Major Dobbin was going to be married, and hoped that HE would be happy." What were the dates of Sedley's letters from Europe? The civilian fetched them. They were two months later than the Major's; and the ship's surgeon congratulated himself upon the treatment adopted by him towards his new patient, who had been consigned to shipboard by the Madras practitioner with very small hopes indeed; for, from that day, the very day that he changed the draught, Major Dobbin began to mend. And thus it was that deserving officer, Captain Kirk, was disappointed of his majority.
After they passed St. Helena, Major Dobbin's gaiety and strength was such as to astonish all his fellow passengers. He larked with the midshipmen, played single-stick with the mates, ran up the shrouds like a boy, sang a comic song one night to the amusement of the whole party assembled over their grog after supper, and rendered himself so gay, lively, and amiable that even Captain Bragg, who thought there was nothing in his passenger, and considered he was a poor-spirited feller at first, was constrained to own that the Major was a reserved but well-informed and meritorious officer. "He ain't got distangy manners, dammy," Bragg observed to his first mate; "he wouldn't do at Government House, Roper, where his Lordship and Lady William was as kind to me, and shook hands with me before the whole company, and asking me at dinner to take beer with him, before the Commander-in-Chief himself; he ain't got manners, but there's something about him--" And thus Captain Bragg showed that he possessed discrimination as a man, as well as ability as a commander.
But a calm taking place when the Ramchunder was within ten days' sail of England, Dobbin became so impatient and ill-humoured as to surprise those comrades who had before admired his vivacity and good temper. He did not recover until the breeze sprang up again, and was in a highly excited state when the pilot came on board. Good God, how his heart beat as the two friendly spires of Southampton came in sight.

第五十七章    近东的风光
    奥斯本老头儿有不少理由可以自鸣得意.其中一条就是他以前的对头.冤家.又是恩人约翰.赛特笠到老来穷愁潦倒,竟要靠着他才能过活.当年害得赛特笠最苦,侮辱得他最厉害的就是奥斯本.他自己是世路上的得意人,时常咒骂那老叫化子,可是也不时周济他.每逢他把爱米丽亚的家用叫乔治带去的时候,就风言风语的让孩子明白他外公是个该死的穷光蛋,得靠人养活;又表示约翰.赛特笠从前欠了他那么多钱,如今又亏得他慷慨帮忙,应该知道感激;那口气真是又粗野又鄙俗.这份了不起的家用由乔治拿给母亲和外公.现在爱米丽亚主要的职务就是伺候和安慰那精神萎靡的老鳏夫.孩子瞧着他萎萎萃萃不得意的样子,不免对他摆出一副恩人架子来.
    爱米丽亚竟肯从父亲的仇人手里拿钱,可见她没有骨气.无奈这可怜的女人是向来没有什么骨气的.她心地单纯,需要别人保护.自从她不幸嫁给乔治.奥斯本以后,简直可说自从她成人以来,过的就是穷苦的日子;她老是受气,老是短一样缺一件,听人闲言闲语责备她,做了好事没好报.我且问你,当你看见品性比你优美的人经常受到这样的委屈,虚心下气的向恶运低头......当你看见温柔而得不到同情的穷人,因为没有钱而遭人家的白眼,你肯不肯放下得意人的架子去伺候这些困顿苦恼的化子呢?没准你想起这些低三下四的人来就觉得讨厌.大依芙斯(见第１６６页注①.)一面咂着嘴喝红酒,一面说:"阶级是非有不可的,贫富是应该有分别的."如果他肯把碎肉屑儿扔给窗外坐着的拉撒路(《圣经》里的癞皮叫化子.)吃,已经难为他了.他这话固然不错,可是你想,做人一辈子就好比打彩票,有的人得到的是紫红的细麻纱衣服(紫红色衣服是帝王或是大主教才能穿的.),有的人得到的却是破布条儿,而且只能把狗当作朋友,这件事岂不是非常玄妙,非常神秘的呢?
    我不得不承认,爱米丽亚把她公公有时丢给她的面包屑捡起来喂她自己的父亲,心里不但不怨恨,反倒有些感激.这个年轻女人(太太小姐们,她才三十岁,我仍旧得称她年轻女人)......这个年轻女人,只要认清了责任,从来不怕牺牲自己,心服情愿的把一切都献给心坎儿上的人.小乔杰离家之前,她在漫漫的长夜里为他做针线,做得十指疲劳,真是费力不讨好的工作.为了父母,她吃尽辛苦,受了多少气恼,经历过各种困难.她逆来顺受,自我牺牲,可是她的苦处是没人见没人理的;不但世上的人瞧不起她,连她也瞧不起自己.我想她在心底里准以为自己是个没有刚性的脓包,应该给人小看,眼前有这种日子已经太便宜了.唉,可怜的女人啊!在暗底下受压迫被牺牲的可怜东西啊!你们一辈子连绵不断的受罪,在卧房里就像在上拷问架子,到客厅里又像是上了断头台.无论什么男人,一旦明白你们怎么委屈烦恼,怎么暗地里受虐待,准会怜悯你们,并且感谢上天,总算他自己是个男子汉.我记得好几年以前,在巴黎附近皮赛脱地方监禁疯人和白痴的牢房里看见过一个可怜虫,他一来有病,二来在牢里坐久了,一股子萎萎萃萃的神气.我们一群人里头有一个送给他一纸卷鼻烟,大概值半便士,那个生羊癫风的病人感动得不知怎么才好.他快乐感激到极点,只好哭起来了.倘或有人给我们一年一千镑的进款,或是救了我们的命,我们也不能感动到那步田地.同样的,如果你把一个女人虐待得够了,只要给她一星儿的好处就能使她高兴得掉眼泪,竟把你当个慈悲的天使.
    可怜的爱米丽亚!命运赏给她的不过是这类的小恩典.她早年的运气不错,后来竟沦落到好像进了个腌的监牢,永远给人做奴隶,遭人作践.有的时候小乔治来探探监,给她带来一线希望,勉强有些安慰.勒塞尔广场是她的监牢的尽头;她偶然也到那儿去走走,可是到晚上总回到自己的号子里来睡觉.她的职务全无情趣,服侍了病人听不见一句好话;年老的父母后半辈子不得意,动不动开口抱怨,对她蛮不讲理,磨得她左右为难.这样无休无歇受折磨的可怜东西在这世界上正不知有几千几万,而且大多数是女人.她们是不拿工钱的看护妇,像仁爱会的修女 (仁爱会的修女专服侍病人.)一样舍己为人,却没有修女们献身教会时的热诚和理想.她们努力工作,废寝忘餐的伺候别人,甘心过苦日子,却连同情也得不到,到后来没没无闻的死掉,根本不算一回事.
    上天的安排是奇妙莫测的,令人敬畏的,他分配世人的祸福,往往叫聪明仁厚的好人受糟蹋,让自私的.愚蠢的.混帐的人享福.得意的弟兄们啊,虚心点儿吧!请你们对于潦倒的苦人厚道些,他们就算没比你好,可也不过是走了背运.想想吧,你的道德好,不过是因为没有受过多大的引诱;你的处境顺,不过是机会凑手;你的地位高,不过是恰巧有祖宗庇荫.你的成功,其实很像是命运开的玩笑,你有什么权利看不起人家呢?
    爱米丽亚的母亲葬在白朗浦顿教堂的坟地上.下葬的一天天阴雨湿,爱米丽亚想起她和乔治结婚的时候就是这样,那会儿还是第一回上那教堂.她的儿子穿了一身讲究的黑衣服坐在她身旁.她还记得教堂里管座位的老婆子和书记.牧师念经的时候,她不知想到哪里去了.若不是她手里拉着乔治,真恨不得跟死了的人换个过儿.想到这里,她又像平常一样责备自己太自私,心里暗暗的祷告上天给她勇气,帮她尽责任.
    她决定使出全副力量叫她的老父亲过得快活.她不辞劳苦的伺候赛特笠老头儿,替他缝,替他补,为他唱歌,陪他下棋,读报给他听,做菜给他吃,不厌其烦的带他上坎新登花园和白朗浦顿小街去散步.每逢他絮絮叨叨的说起从前的老话,她总是笑眯眯的假装爱听,好哄他喜欢.老头儿身子虚弱,一开口就爱抱怨;他常常坐在公园里的长凳上晒太阳,口里嘈嘈的诉说他的委屈和苦处,爱米丽亚便守在他身边想自己的心思,回忆从前的旧事.可怜这寡妇心里凄凄惶惶,多少的不如意.公园里好些孩子在山坡上和宽敞的路上跑来跑去,使她想起乔治来.人家把乔治抢去了.第一个乔治可不也是这么着离开她了吗?都是因为她的爱情自私,不正当,所以才有这样的报应,两次都受到严厉的惩罚.她责备自己罪孽深重,努力叫自己承认这种处分非常公道.在这个世界上,她差不多没有亲人了.
    她的生活相当于单独监禁,我知道这种监牢里的故事,说来叫听的人心里闷得慌.除非另外有些风趣诙谐的穿插才能调和书里的气氛,譬如加添个把软心肠的牢头禁子,或是形容城堡里的指挥官怎么爱说笑话,或是描写老鼠怎么在拉丢特(拉丢特(Ｊｅａｎ　Ｈｅｎｒｉ　Ｌａｔｕｄｅ,１７２５—１８０５),因得罪法王路易十五的情妇邦巴图,被关禁了三十五年,换过四个监狱.)的胡子里溜出溜进,脱兰克(脱兰克(Ｆｒａｎｃｏｉｓ　Ｔｒｅｎｃｋ,１７２６—９４),奥国冒险家,曾经被长期监禁.)怎么用十指和牙签在城堡下面挖隧道.无奈写书的没有这样的趣事可以穿插在爱米丽亚被监禁的故事里面.总之请你记住,在那一段时期里面,她心里只管悲苦,可是别人跟她说话的时候她总是笑脸相迎.她过的是贫穷苦恼的日子,不消说是寒伧极了;她为老父亲唱歌,做布丁,玩纸牌,补袜子.这样看来,不管她算不算本书的主角,也别管你我两人衰老.穷苦.唠叨到什么程度,但愿我们临死之前也有这么个善心人儿把软软的肩膀给我们靠着,怪体贴的伺候我们,让我们这些浑身骨头痛的老头儿老婆子少受些苦楚.
    赛特笠老头儿自从妻子去世以后,对于女儿十分依恋.爱米丽亚觉得服侍父亲已经尽了心,自己也得到一些安慰.
    不过我并不打算把这两个人永远安顿在这样寒伧低微的环境里.他们都还能安享一些荣华富贵,好日子还在后面呢.聪明的读者也许已经猜到那位跟都宾少佐一起上乔治学校里去探望他的胖子是谁.原来咱们的另外一个老朋友也回到英国来了.他来得正是时候,可以让他留在英国的父亲和妹妹心上有个安慰.
    都宾少佐的上司脾气好,他请假立刻照准.他说他打算先到玛德拉斯,然后可能一直回欧洲,因为有要紧的私事要办.他日夜不停的赶路,一直到了地头才歇下来.哪知道赶路赶的太快,到玛德拉斯的时候竟发起高烧来.他原说在朋友家养好了病再回欧洲,可是跟他同行的佣人们把他送到朋友家里,他已经不省人事了.这以后好些日子,大家都以为即使他动身的话,也不过走到圣乔治教堂的坟地上去.(有好多勇敢的军官都远远的离开家乡,给安葬在那儿.)军队里的人决定在他去世之后,在他坟上开礼炮致敬.
    可怜的家伙发着高烧在床上翻来覆去,病中伺候他的人如果留心的话,一定听得见他在说胡话叫爱米丽亚.清醒的时候,他想着这辈子见不着她了,心里难受.他以为自己快要死了,郑重其事的把未了的事情安排妥当,指明将自己的一小份财产传给几个平常最关心的人.留他住的朋友就在遗嘱上签名做了证人.他脖子上戴着一条小链子,是栗色的头发编成的;他吩咐死后要带着这念心儿一起下葬.老实说了吧,头发还是他在布鲁塞尔的时候,从爱米丽亚的佣人那里讨来的.当年乔治.奥斯本在圣约翰山附近的战场上打仗死了,年轻的寡妇伤心得害了一场大病,头发就是病中铰下来的.
    他病好了又反复,医生几次三番的给他放血,吃轻粉,可见他的身体结实得很.那时东印度公司的拉姆轻特号商船从加尔各答路过玛德拉斯(船长姓白拉格),他就搭这船回家.他给送到船上的当儿,瘦得像个骷髅,身子虚瑟瑟的没一点儿力气.那位在病中服侍他的朋友预言老实的少佐到不了英国就要死了.他说总有一天早上他会给人用帆布和国旗卷起来海葬,跟他脖子上的那念心儿一起沉到水底里去.不知道是海上空气好,还是因为他心里重新有了希望,反正自从那艘船扯起风帆向家乡行驶的那一天起,我们的朋友就渐渐复原,他们还没有到达好望角,他已经很健全了,不过仍旧瘦得像一条猎狗.他笑道:"这一回,葛克当不着少佐了.他准以为联队到家的时候,公报上已经发表了他高升的消息."这里应该另注一笔,少佐急急赶到玛德拉斯以后躺在那儿生病的时候,英勇的第......联队奉命内调.第......联队本来已经在国外驻扎了好多年;当年从西印度群岛回家之后,恰巧滑铁卢有战事,又不能留在本国,后来又从法兰德斯一直调到印度,现在才得回家.如果少佐愿意在玛德拉斯多等几时,他就能和军队里的弟兄们一起回家.
    说不定他不愿意在自己那么虚弱的时候让葛萝薇娜来招呼他.他笑着向一个同船的旅客说道:"如果奥多小姐在船上,那我就完蛋了.乔斯,我的孩子,她把我扔到海里去以后,准会抓住你,然后把你一直带到沙乌撒浦顿,你就成了她中的头彩."
    原来我们这位大胖子朋友果然就在拉姆轻特商船上.滑铁卢赛特笠在孟加拉住了十年,不断的出去吃晚饭,吃中饭,喝淡麦酒.红酒,衙门里的公事又忙得不可开交,而且又不得不常常喝些白兰地酒提提精神,因此他的健康受了影响.医生说他必须回到欧洲去一趟.他在印度工作了好多年,已经超过了任期,他的差使又好,手里很攒了几个钱.这样,他回到英国靠着丰厚的养老金过活也行,以后再回印度做事也行.他在印度的官职很高,因为他资格老,能力高,应该有这样的地位.
    他比上次和读者相见的时候瘦些,不过样子更庄重,更威武.他的胡子又留起来了......他在滑铁卢战役中尽了那么多力,留胡子也是该当的.他浑身都是别针和珠宝,头上戴了一顶华丽的丝绒帽子,上面还有一道金箍,神气活现的在甲板上走来走去.早饭是拿到他舱里吃的,饭后他全副精神穿衣打扮,然后才到后甲板上来,竟好像他打算上邦德街兜风,或是在加尔各答看跑马.他带着一个印度佣人,贴身伺候伺候,拿拿烟斗,这人的包头巾上用银线绣着赛特笠家里的纹章.乔斯.赛特笠专制得很,这印度人的日子可不好过.乔斯像女人一样爱俏,每天得花好半天穿衣打扮,半老的美人化妆也不过费这么些功夫.旅客里面有几个年轻后生,像第一百五十联队的却弗思,还有可怜的立该脱,因为害了三回热病,这一次回家休养......他们常常坐在房舱里的桌子旁边逗他说话,讲他自己怎么打老虎.怎么打拿破仑这类耸人听闻的掌故.他到龙活去参观拿破仑墓的时候真是得意极了.都宾少佐反正不在旁边,他就把滑铁卢大战细细的向这两个小军官描写了一番,恨不得说要是没有他,乔斯.赛特笠,拿破仑根本不会给幽禁在圣海里娜岛上.
    过了圣海里娜,这印度官儿变得很慷慨,大手大脚的把自己带在船上受用的红酒.腌肉.整桶的荷兰水,拿出来请客.船上没有女客,少佐又肯让他占先,因此吃饭的时候他就坐了第一位.白拉格船长和拉姆轻特的军官们对他非常尊敬;他有这样的地位,也应该受人尊敬.有两天海上风浪很大,他吓慌了,躲在舱里不出来,用木板把舱口钉紧,躺在吊床上看《芬却莱广场的洗衣妇人》.
    这本小册子原是爱密莲.霍恩泊洛夫人跟着她丈夫沙哀勒斯.霍恩泊洛牧师到好望角去传道的当儿留在船上的.平常的时候,乔斯只看他随身带着的小说和戏剧,并且把这些书借给船上的人看.他待人厚道,又不摆架子,因此大家喜欢他.
    在好些晚上,他们的船在黑沉沉的大海上行驶,波涛轰隆轰隆的响,天上星月交辉,船上的铃子叮叮当当报时辰,少佐和赛特笠先生便坐在后甲板上谈论家里的情形.少佐抽着雪茄烟,那印度官儿抽的是他佣人给他装的水烟.
    都宾少佐老是想法子把话题扯到爱米丽亚和她儿子身上,那份儿恒心和聪明真是了不起.乔斯本来因为父亲一直很潦倒,又不顾体面,屡次向他求救,心上很不高兴,亏得少佐一路劝解,说老头儿运气不好,年纪又大,他心里也就平了.少佐说起乔斯大概不喜欢和父母住在一起,因为老夫妻的习惯和他的两样,吃喝睡觉起身的时间也对他不合适.他究竟年纪轻,而且相与的人物也不同(乔斯听得少佐这样恭维他,把腰弯了一弯).少佐说他应该在伦敦自己租一所房子,别像以前那样在公寓里布置一个单身汉子的小家庭.他又说如果把乔斯的妹妹爱米丽亚请来当家,再合适也没有了;她的举止文雅温柔,态度又大方;举几个例来说,以前在布鲁塞尔,在伦敦,最上流的人物见了她都赏识的.他又向乔斯暗示了一下,说是最好把乔杰送进一个好学校,培养他成人,因为孩子的母亲和外公外婆准会把他惯坏了.总而言之,少佐诡计多端,竟想法子叫印度官儿答应照管爱米丽亚和她无依无靠的孩子.原来赛特笠的家里有些什么变动,母亲怎么去世,奥斯本的财富怎么把乔治从爱米丽亚手里抢去,他全不知道.这个中年男子十分痴心,天天惦记着奥斯本太太,一心只想帮她的忙.他甜嘴蜜舌的哄着乔斯.赛特笠,不停口的奉承.他拍起马屁来多么有常性,样子多么亲热,看来他自己并不觉得.凡是先生们家里有不曾出阁的姊妹或是女儿,想来都有过经验,知道上门求婚的小伙子对于这家子的男人多么殷勤周到.说不定滑头的都宾这番假仁假义也是因为这原故.
    都宾少佐初上拉姆轻特号的时候身体仍旧很不好.商船停在玛德拉斯碇泊所的三天之内,他并没有起色.甚至于在船上碰见了他的老朋友赛特笠先生也还是提不起兴致来,直到有一天他们畅谈了一番之后情形才有了改变.那天少佐没精打采的躺在甲板上.他说自己恐怕没有救了;在他的遗嘱里,他留了一点儿钱给他干儿子;他相信奥斯本太太一定会记得他,希望她这次的婚姻能够称心如意.乔斯答道:"婚姻?没有的事.我有她的信,她并没有提起再嫁的话.我忽然想起来了,真奇怪,她倒说起都宾少佐要结婚了,而且说希望你快乐."赛特笠的信是几时收到的呢?印度官儿把信拿出来一看,原来比少佐得的信迟两个月.船上的医生觉得自己医治新来的病人收效特别快,心里非常得意.玛德拉斯的医生把病人送上船的时候,并没有多少希望,而他一换了药方,都宾少佐就渐渐复原了.也因为这缘故,葛克上尉虽然很有功劳,却没有能够升到少佐的位子上去.
    船过了圣海里娜之后,都宾少佐兴致又高,身体又好,同船的人看了都觉得诧异.他和候补少尉们在一块儿疯闹,和大副二副们耍棍棒,又去爬那护桅索,活像个大孩子.有一夜,晚饭后大家坐着喝酒,他还唱了一支滑稽的歌儿,引得大家都笑.人人都觉得他活泼有趣,招人喜欢.白拉格船长起先嫌他委靡不振,没多大能耐,后来也承认他很有见识,是个好军官,只是不大爱说话.白拉格对大副说:"他没有什么风度.罗伯,如果在总督府里作客,他是不像样的.我在总督府的那一回,勋爵大人和威廉夫人对我真客气,当着大家和我拉手,吃饭的时候还请我跟他一块儿喝啤酒,那忽儿连总司令还没跟他对喝过呢.少佐的态度不够文雅,可是他有他的好处."从他说的话里面,我们就知道白拉格船长不但是个有能力的军官,并且还很识人.
    在拉姆轻特号离开英国大概还有十天航程的时候,海上没有风,都宾变得又暴躁又难说话,船上的伙伴们本来佩服他兴致好,脾气随和,见他这样都觉得纳闷.海上起风之后他的性情才恢复原状.领港的上船的一刹那,他兴奋得不得了.他看见沙乌撒泼顿的两个教堂尖顶,登时像见了朋友,一颗心在腔子里突突的乱跳.

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

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CHAPTER LVIII
Our Friend the Major
Our Major had rendered himself so popular on board the Ramchunder that when he and Mr. Sedley descended into the welcome shore-boat which was to take them from the ship, the whole crew, men and officers, the great Captain Bragg himself leading off, gave three cheers for Major Dobbin, who blushed very much and ducked his head in token of thanks. Jos, who very likely thought the cheers were for himself, took off his gold-laced cap and waved it majestically to his friends, and they were pulled to shore and landed with great dignity at the pier, whence they proceeded to the Royal George Hotel.
Although the sight of that magnificent round of beef, and the silver tankard suggestive of real British home-brewed ale and porter, which perennially greet the eyes of the traveller returning from foreign parts who enters the coffee-room of the George, are so invigorating and delightful that a man entering such a comfortable snug homely English inn might well like to stop some days there, yet Dobbin began to talk about a post-chaise instantly, and was no sooner at Southampton than he wished to be on the road to London. Jos, however, would not hear of moving that evening. Why was he to pass a night in a post-chaise instead of a great large undulating downy feather-bed which was there ready to replace the horrid little narrow crib in which the portly Bengal gentleman had been confined during the voyage? He could not think of moving till his baggage was cleared, or of travelling until he could do so with his chillum. So the Major was forced to wait over that night, and dispatched a letter to his family announcing his arrival, entreating from Jos a promise to write to his own friends. Jos promised, but didn't keep his promise. The Captain, the surgeon, and one or two passengers came and dined with our two gentlemen at the inn, Jos exerting himself in a sumptuous way in ordering the dinner and promising to go to town the next day with the Major. The landlord said it did his eyes good to see Mr. Sedley take off his first pint of porter. If I had time and dared to enter into digressions, I would write a chapter about that first pint of porter drunk upon English ground. Ah, how good it is! It is worth-while to leave home for a year, just to enjoy that one draught.
Major Dobbin made his appearance the next morning very neatly shaved and dressed, according to his wont. Indeed, it was so early in the morning that nobody was up in the house except that wonderful Boots of an inn who never seems to want sleep; and the Major could hear the snores of the various inmates of the house roaring through the corridors as he creaked about in those dim passages. Then the sleepless Boots went shirking round from door to door, gathering up at each the Bluchers, Wellingtons, Oxonians, which stood outside. Then Jos's native servant arose and began to get ready his master's ponderous dressing apparatus and prepare his hookah; then the maidservants got up, and meeting the dark man in the passages, shrieked, and mistook him for the devil. He and Dobbin stumbled over their pails in the passages as they were scouring the decks of the Royal George. When the first unshorn waiter appeared and unbarred the door of the inn, the Major thought that the time for departure was arrived, and ordered a post-chaise to be fetched instantly, that they might set off.
He then directed his steps to Mr. Sedley's room and opened the curtains of the great large family bed wherein Mr. Jos was snoring. "Come, up! Sedley," the Major said, "it's time to be off; the chaise will be at the door in half an hour."
Jos growled from under the counterpane to know what the time was; but when he at last extorted from the blushing Major (who never told fibs, however they might be to his advantage) what was the real hour of the morning, he broke out into a volley of bad language, which we will not repeat here, but by which he gave Dobbin to understand that he would jeopardy his soul if he got up at that moment, that the Major might go and be hanged, that he would not travel with Dobbin, and that it was most unkind and ungentlemanlike to disturb a man out of his sleep in that way; on which the discomfited Major was obliged to retreat, leaving Jos to resume his interrupted slumbers.
The chaise came up presently, and the Major would wait no longer.
If he had been an English nobleman travelling on a pleasure tour, or a newspaper courier bearing dispatches (government messages are generally carried much more quietly), he could not have travelled more quickly. The post-boys wondered at the fees he flung amongst them. How happy and green the country looked as the chaise whirled rapidly from mile-stone to mile-stone, through neat country towns where landlords came out to welcome him with smiles and bows; by pretty roadside inns, where the signs hung on the elms, and horses and waggoners were drinking under the chequered shadow of the trees; by old halls and parks; rustic hamlets clustered round ancient grey churches--and through the charming friendly English landscape. Is there any in the world like it? To a traveller returning home it looks so kind--it seems to shake hands with you as you pass through it. Well, Major Dobbin passed through all this from Southampton to London, and without noting much beyond the milestones along the road. You see he was so eager to see his parents at Camberwell.
He grudged the time lost between Piccadilly and his old haunt at the Slaughters', whither he drove faithfully. Long years had passed since he saw it last, since he and George, as young men, had enjoyed many a feast, and held many a revel there. He had now passed into the stage of old-fellow-hood. His hair was grizzled, and many a passion and feeling of his youth had grown grey in that interval. There, however, stood the old waiter at the door, in the same greasy black suit, with the same double chin and flaccid face, with the same huge bunch of seals at his fob, rattling his money in his pockets as before, and receiving the Major as if he had gone away only a week ago. "Put the Major's things in twenty-three, that's his room," John said, exhibiting not the least surprise. "Roast fowl for your dinner, I suppose. You ain't got married? They said you was married--the Scotch surgeon of yours was here. No, it was Captain Humby of the thirty-third, as was quartered with the --th in Injee. Like any warm water? What do you come in a chay for--ain't the coach good enough?" And with this, the faithful waiter, who knew and remembered every officer who used the house, and with whom ten years were but as yesterday, led the way up to Dobbin's old room, where stood the great moreen bed, and the shabby carpet, a thought more dingy, and all the old black furniture covered with faded chintz, just as the Major recollected them in his youth.
He remembered George pacing up and down the room, and biting his nails, and swearing that the Governor must come round, and that if he didn't, he didn't care a straw, on the day before he was married. He could fancy him walking in, banging the door of Dobbin's room, and his own hard by--
"You ain't got young," John said, calmly surveying his friend of former days.
Dobbin laughed. "Ten years and a fever don't make a man young, John," he said. "It is you that are always young--no, you are always old."
"What became of Captain Osborne's widow?" John said. "Fine young fellow that. Lord, how he used to spend his money. He never came back after that day he was marched from here. He owes me three pound at this minute. Look here, I have it in my book. 'April 10, 1815, Captain Osborne: '3 pounds.' I wonder whether his father would pay me," and so saying, John of the Slaughters' pulled out the very morocco pocket-book in which he had noted his loan to the Captain, upon a greasy faded page still extant, with many other scrawled memoranda regarding the bygone frequenters of the house.
Having inducted his customer into the room, John retired with perfect calmness; and Major Dobbin, not without a blush and a grin at his own absurdity, chose out of his kit the very smartest and most becoming civil costume he possessed, and laughed at his own tanned face and grey hair, as he surveyed them in the dreary little toilet-glass on the dressing-table.
"I'm glad old John didn't forget me," he thought. "She'll know me, too, I hope." And he sallied out of the inn, bending his steps once more in the direction of Brompton.
Every minute incident of his last meeting with Amelia was present to the constant man's mind as he walked towards her house. The arch and the Achilles statue were up since he had last been in Piccadilly; a hundred changes had occurred which his eye and mind vaguely noted. He began to tremble as he walked up the lane from Brompton, that well-remembered lane leading to the street where she lived. Was she going to be married or not? If he were to meet her with the little boy--Good God, what should he do? He saw a woman coming to him with a child of five years old--was that she? He began to shake at the mere possibility. When he came up to the row of houses, at last, where she lived, and to the gate, he caught hold of it and paused. He might have heard the thumping of his own heart. "May God Almighty bless her, whatever has happened," he thought to himself. "Psha! she may be gone from here," he said and went in through the gate.
The window of the parlour which she used to occupy was open, and there were no inmates in the room. The Major thought he recognized the piano, though, with the picture over it, as it used to be in former days, and his perturbations were renewed. Mr. Clapp's brass plate was still on the door, at the knocker of which Dobbin performed a summons.
A buxom-looking lass of sixteen, with bright eyes and purple cheeks, came to answer the knock and looked hard at the Major as he leant back against the little porch.
He was as pale as a ghost and could hardly falter out the words-- "Does Mrs. Osborne live here?"
She looked him hard in the face for a moment--and then turning white too--said, "Lord bless me--it's Major Dobbin." She held out both her hands shaking--"Don't you remember me?" she said. "I used to call you Major Sugarplums." On which, and I believe it was for the first time that he ever so conducted himself in his life, the Major took the girl in his arms and kissed her. She began to laugh and cry hysterically, and calling out "Ma, Pa!" with all her voice, brought up those worthy people, who had already been surveying the Major from the casement of the ornamental kitchen, and were astonished to find their daughter in the little passage in the embrace of a great tall man in a blue frock-coat and white duck trousers.
"I'm an old friend," he said--not without blushing though. "Don't you remember me, Mrs. Clapp, and those good cakes you used to make for tea? Don't you recollect me, Clapp? I'm George's godfather, and just come back from India." A great shaking of hands ensued--Mrs. Clapp was greatly affected and delighted; she called upon heaven to interpose a vast many times in that passage.
The landlord and landlady of the house led the worthy Major into the Sedleys' room (whereof he remembered every single article of furniture, from the old brass ornamented piano, once a natty little instrument, Stothard maker, to the screens and the alabaster miniature tombstone, in the midst of which ticked Mr. Sedley's gold watch), and there, as he sat down in the lodger's vacant arm-chair, the father, the mother, and the daughter, with a thousand ejaculatory breaks in the narrative, informed Major Dobbin of what we know already, but of particulars in Amelia's history of which he was not aware--namely of Mrs. Sedley's death, of George's reconcilement with his grandfather Osborne, of the way in which the widow took on at leaving him, and of other particulars of her life. Twice or thrice he was going to ask about the marriage question, but his heart failed him. He did not care to lay it bare to these people. Finally, he was informed that Mrs. O. was gone to walk with her pa in Kensington Gardens, whither she always went with the old gentleman (who was very weak and peevish now, and led her a sad life, though she behaved to him like an angel, to be sure), of a fine afternoon, after dinner.
"I'm very much pressed for time," the Major said, "and have business to-night of importance. I should like to see Mrs. Osborne tho'. Suppose Miss Polly would come with me and show me the way?"
Miss Polly was charmed and astonished at this proposal. She knew the way. She would show Major Dobbin. She had often been with Mr. Sedley when Mrs. O. was gone--was gone Russell Square way--and knew the bench where he liked to sit. She bounced away to her apartment and appeared presently in her best bonnet and her mamma's yellow shawl and large pebble brooch, of which she assumed the loan in order to make herself a worthy companion for the Major.
That officer, then, in his blue frock-coat and buckskin gloves, gave the young lady his arm, and they walked away very gaily. He was glad to have a friend at hand for the scene which he dreaded somehow. He asked a thousand more questions from his companion about Amelia: his kind heart grieved to think that she should have had to part with her son. How did she bear it? Did she see him often? Was Mr. Sedley pretty comfortable now in a worldly point of view? Polly answered all these questions of Major Sugarplums to the very best of her power.
And in the midst of their walk an incident occurred which, though very simple in its nature, was productive of the greatest delight to Major Dobbin. A pale young man with feeble whiskers and a stiff white neckcloth came walking down the lane, en sandwich--having a lady, that is, on each arm. One was a tall and commanding middle- aged female, with features and a complexion similar to those of the clergyman of the Church of England by whose side she marched, and the other a stunted little woman with a dark face, ornamented by a fine new bonnet and white ribbons, and in a smart pelisse, with a rich gold watch in the midst of her person. The gentleman, pinioned as he was by these two ladies, carried further a parasol, shawl, and basket, so that his arms were entirely engaged, and of course he was unable to touch his hat in acknowledgement of the curtsey with which Miss Mary Clapp greeted him.
He merely bowed his head in reply to her salutation, which the two ladies returned with a patronizing air, and at the same time looking severely at the individual in the blue coat and bamboo cane who accompanied Miss Polly.
"Who's that?" asked the Major, amused by the group, and after he had made way for the three to pass up the lane. Mary looked at him rather roguishly.
"That is our curate, the Reverend Mr. Binny (a twitch from Major Dobbin), and his sister Miss B. Lord bless us, how she did use to worret us at Sunday-school; and the other lady, the little one with a cast in her eye and the handsome watch, is Mrs. Binny--Miss Grits that was; her pa was a grocer, and kept the Little Original Gold Tea Pot in Kensington Gravel Pits. They were married last month, and are just come back from Margate. She's five thousand pound to her fortune; but her and Miss B., who made the match, have quarrelled already."
If the Major had twitched before, he started now, and slapped the bamboo on the ground with an emphasis which made Miss Clapp cry, "Law," and laugh too. He stood for a moment, silent, with open mouth, looking after the retreating young couple, while Miss Mary told their history; but he did not hear beyond the announcement of the reverend gentleman's marriage; his head was swimming with felicity. After this rencontre he began to walk double quick towards the place of his destination--and yet they were too soon (for he was in a great tremor at the idea of a meeting for which he had been longing any time these ten years)--through the Brompton lanes, and entering at the little old portal in Kensington Garden wall.
"There they are," said Miss Polly, and she felt him again start back on her arm. She was a confidante at once of the whole business. She knew the story as well as if she had read it in one of her favourite novel-books--Fatherless Fanny, or the Scottish Chiefs.
"Suppose you were to run on and tell her," the Major said. Polly ran forward, her yellow shawl streaming in the breeze.
Old Sedley was seated on a bench, his handkerchief placed over his knees, prattling away, according to his wont, with some old story about old times to which Amelia had listened and awarded a patient smile many a time before. She could of late think of her own affairs, and smile or make other marks of recognition of her father's stories, scarcely hearing a word of the old man's tales. As Mary came bouncing along, and Amelia caught sight of her, she started up from her bench. Her first thought was that something had happened to Georgy, but the sight of the messenger's eager and happy face dissipated that fear in the timorous mother's bosom.
"News! News!" cried the emissary of Major Dobbin. "He's come! He's come!"
"Who is come?" said Emmy, still thinking of her son.
"Look there," answered Miss Clapp, turning round and pointing; in which direction Amelia looking, saw Dobbin's lean figure and long shadow stalking across the grass. Amelia started in her turn, blushed up, and, of course, began to cry. At all this simple little creature's fetes, the grandes eaux were accustomed to play. He looked at her--oh, how fondly--as she came running towards him, her hands before her, ready to give them to him. She wasn't changed. She was a little pale, a little stouter in figure. Her eyes were the same, the kind trustful eyes. There were scarce three lines of silver in her soft brown hair. She gave him both her hands as she looked up flushing and smiling through her tears into his honest homely face. He took the two little hands between his two and held them there. He was speechless for a moment. Why did he not take her in his arms and swear that he would never leave her? She must have yielded: she could not but have obeyed him.
"I--I've another arrival to announce," he said after a pause.
"Mrs. Dobbin?" Amelia said, making a movement back--why didn't he speak?
"No," he said, letting her hands go: "Who has told you those lies? I mean, your brother Jos came in the same ship with me, and is come home to make you all happy."
"Papa, Papa!" Emmy cried out, "here are news! My brother is in England. He is come to take care of you. Here is Major Dobbin."
Mr. Sedley started up, shaking a great deal and gathering up his thoughts. Then he stepped forward and made an old-fashioned bow to the Major, whom he called Mr. Dobbin, and hoped his worthy father, Sir William, was quite well. He proposed to call upon Sir William, who had done him the honour of a visit a short time ago. Sir William had not called upon the old gentleman for eight years--it was that visit he was thinking of returning.
"He is very much shaken," Emmy whispered as Dobbin went up and cordially shook hands with the old man.
Although he had such particular business in London that evening, the Major consented to forego it upon Mr. Sedley's invitation to him to come home and partake of tea. Amelia put her arm under that of her young friend with the yellow shawl and headed the party on their return homewards, so that Mr. Sedley fell to Dobbin's share. The old man walked very slowly and told a number of ancient histories about himself and his poor Bessy, his former prosperity, and his bankruptcy. His thoughts, as is usual with failing old men, were quite in former times. The present, with the exception of the one catastrophe which he felt, he knew little about. The Major was glad to let him talk on. His eyes were fixed upon the figure in front of him--the dear little figure always present to his imagination and in his prayers, and visiting his dreams wakeful or slumbering.
Amelia was very happy, smiling, and active all that evening, performing her duties as hostess of the little entertainment with the utmost grace and propriety, as Dobbin thought. His eyes followed her about as they sat in the twilight. How many a time had he longed for that moment and thought of her far away under hot winds and in weary marches, gentle and happy, kindly ministering to the wants of old age, and decorating poverty with sweet submission-- as he saw her now. I do not say that his taste was the highest, or that it is the duty of great intellects to be content with a bread- and-butter paradise, such as sufficed our simple old friend; but his desires were of this sort, whether for good or bad, and, with Amelia to help him, he was as ready to drink as many cups of tea as Doctor Johnson.
Amelia seeing this propensity, laughingly encouraged it and looked exceedingly roguish as she administered to him cup after cup. It is true she did not know that the Major had had no dinner and that the cloth was laid for him at the Slaughters', and a plate laid thereon to mark that the table was retained, in that very box in which the Major and George had sat many a time carousing, when she was a child just come home from Miss Pinkerton's school.
The first thing Mrs. Osborne showed the Major was Georgy's miniature, for which she ran upstairs on her arrival at home. It was not half handsome enough of course for the boy, but wasn't it noble of him to think of bringing it to his mother? Whilst her papa was awake she did not talk much about Georgy. To hear about Mr. Osborne and Russell Square was not agreeable to the old man, who very likely was unconscious that he had been living for some months past mainly on the bounty of his richer rival, and lost his temper if allusion was made to the other.
Dobbin told him all, and a little more perhaps than all, that had happened on board the Ramchunder, and exaggerated Jos's benevolent dispositions towards his father and resolution to make him comfortable in his old days. The truth is that during the voyage the Major had impressed this duty most strongly upon his fellow- passenger and extorted promises from him that he would take charge of his sister and her child. He soothed Jos's irritation with regard to the bills which the old gentleman had drawn upon him, gave a laughing account of his own sufferings on the same score and of the famous consignment of wine with which the old man had favoured him, and brought Mr. Jos, who was by no means an ill-natured person when well-pleased and moderately flattered, to a very good state of feeling regarding his relatives in Europe.
And in fine I am ashamed to say that the Major stretched the truth so far as to tell old Mr. Sedley that it was mainly a desire to see his parent which brought Jos once more to Europe.
At his accustomed hour Mr. Sedley began to doze in his chair, and then it was Amelia's opportunity to commence her conversation, which she did with great eagerness--it related exclusively to Georgy. She did not talk at all about her own sufferings at breaking from him, for indeed, this worthy woman, though she was half-killed by the separation from the child, yet thought it was very wicked in her to repine at losing him; but everything concerning him, his virtues, talents, and prospects, she poured out. She described his angelic beauty; narrated a hundred instances of his generosity and greatness of mind whilst living with her; how a Royal Duchess had stopped and admired him in Kensington Gardens; how splendidly he was cared for now, and how he had a groom and a pony; what quickness and cleverness he had, and what a prodigiously well-read and delightful person the Reverend Lawrence Veal was, George's master. "He knows EVERYTHING," Amelia said. "He has the most delightful parties. You who are so learned yourself, and have read so much, and are so clever and accomplished--don't shake your head and say no--HE always used to say you were--you will be charmed with Mr. Veal's parties. The last Tuesday in every month. He says there is no place in the bar or the senate that Georgy may not aspire to. Look here," and she went to the piano-drawer and drew out a theme of Georgy's composition. This great effort of genius, which is still in the possession of George's mother, is as follows:
On Selfishness--Of all the vices which degrade the human character, Selfishness is the most odious and contemptible. An undue love of Self leads to the most monstrous crimes and occasions the greatest misfortunes both in States and Families. As a selfish man will impoverish his family and often bring them to ruin, so a selfish king brings ruin on his people and often plunges them into war.
Example: The selfishness of Achilles, as remarked by the poet Homer, occasioned a thousand woes to the Greeks--muri Achaiois alge etheke--(Hom. Il. A. 2). The selfishness of the late Napoleon Bonaparte occasioned innumerable wars in Europe and caused him to perish, himself, in a miserable island--that of Saint Helena in the Atlantic Ocean.
We see by these examples that we are not to consult our own interest and ambition, but that we are to consider the interests of others as well as our own.
George S. Osborne Athene House, 24 April, 1827
"Think of him writing such a hand, and quoting Greek too, at his age," the delighted mother said. "Oh, William," she added, holding out her hand to the Major, "what a treasure Heaven has given me in that boy! He is the comfort of my life--and he is the image of--of him that's gone!"
"Ought I to be angry with her for being faithful to him?" William thought. "Ought I to be jealous of my friend in the grave, or hurt that such a heart as Amelia's can love only once and for ever? Oh, George, George, how little you knew the prize you had, though." This sentiment passed rapidly through William's mind as he was holding Amelia's hand, whilst the handkerchief was veiling her eyes.
"Dear friend," she said, pressing the hand which held hers, "how good, how kind you always have been to me! See! Papa is stirring. You will go and see Georgy tomorrow, won't you?"
"Not to-morrow," said poor old Dobbin. "I have business." He did not like to own that he had not as yet been to his parents' and his dear sister Anne--a remissness for which I am sure every well- regulated person will blame the Major. And presently he took his leave, leaving his address behind him for Jos, against the latter's arrival. And so the first day was over, and he had seen her.
When he got back to the Slaughters', the roast fowl was of course cold, in which condition he ate it for supper. And knowing what early hours his family kept, and that it would be needless to disturb their slumbers at so late an hour, it is on record, that Major Dobbin treated himself to half-price at the Haymarket Theatre that evening, where let us hope he enjoyed himself.

第五十八章    我们的朋友都宾少佐
    少佐在拉姆轻特船上的人缘真好.那天他和赛特笠先生欢欢喜喜的下了摆渡船准备上岸,全船的职员和水手,由了不起的白拉格船长带头,欢呼三声给都宾少佐送行.少佐满面通红,点着头表示给他们道谢.乔斯大约以为他们是为他欢呼,脱下金箍帽子神气活现的向朋友们摇晃着.他们给摆渡到岸边,很威风的上了码头,出发到皇家乔治旅馆去.
    乔治旅馆的咖啡室里一年到头摆着大块肥美的牛腿肉,还有银子打的大酒杯,使人联想到真正英国家乡酿造的浓麦酒和淡麦酒.从国外回来的旅客一进门来看见这两样东西,自会兴致蓬勃.精神抖擞.如此说来,不论是谁,进了这样一个舒服愉快的英国旅馆,总愿意盘桓几天再走,哪知道都宾一到沙乌撒泼顿就想上路到伦敦去,立刻打算雇马车.乔斯呢,那天晚上是随便怎么也不肯动身的了.这位肥胖的孟加拉绅士一路只能睡在又窄小又不舒服的铺位上,如今刚有了宽敞的大床,上面铺着鸭绒被褥,软绵绵的一睡一个窝儿,他又何必在马车里过夜呢?他说行李没有整理好以前他不愿意动身;没有水烟袋,他是不高兴出门的.少佐没法,只能等过了那一夜再说.他写了一封信到家里,报告上岸的消息,又恳求乔斯也写封信通知他家里的人.乔斯嘴里答应,可并没有照做.船长.医生,还有一两个旅客,都从船上下来和我们这两位先生一同吃晚饭,乔斯非常卖力,点了许多好菜,并且答应第二天和少佐一起到伦敦去.旅馆主人说赛特笠先生喝第一派因脱浓麦酒的时候,他瞧着就觉得痛快.如果我有时间说闲话,准会另写一章,形容刚回英国时喝第一派因脱浓麦酒的滋味.喝,那滋味多好呀!单为受用这一次痛饮,特地离家一年也值得.
    第二天早上,都宾少佐起来,照他平时的习惯,把胡子剃光,穿得整整齐齐.那时天色很早,旅馆里除了那擦鞋工人之外,都没有起身......这些擦鞋的仿佛从来不需要睡觉,真是了不起.少佐在朦朦胧胧的走廊里踱来踱去,皮鞋吱吱的响,到处听得客人们打呼噜的声音.那不睡觉的擦鞋工人躲躲藏藏的顺着各个房门走过去,把门前的长统靴.半统靴.浅口鞋都收集起来.然后乔斯的印度佣人起身给主人把笨重的梳妆家伙拿出来,又给他收拾水烟袋.再过一会儿,女佣人们也起身了,她们在过道里碰见这么个黑不溜秋的人,以为是魔鬼出现,都尖叫起来.她们打水擦洗旅馆的地板,印度人和都宾两个便失脚绊在她们的水桶上.等到第一个茶房带着隔夜的胡子去开大门的时候,少佐觉得可以动身了,吩咐下人立刻去雇一辆车来,打算上路.
    他走到赛特笠先生的卧房里,只见乔斯睡在一张又宽又大的双人床上,正在打呼噜.他把帐子拉开,叫道:"赛特笠,起来吧,可以动身了.马车再隔半个钟头就来."
    乔斯在被窝里发怒,咕噜着问他几点钟了.少佐是老实人,不管扯谎可以帮他多大的忙,他也扯不来,所以给乔斯一逼,只好红了脸把实话告诉他.乔斯一听,立刻破口大骂.骂人的话这里不必再说,总之他让都宾明白:第一,倘若他那么早起来,简直有危险给打入地狱;第二,都宾少佐是个该死的东西;第三,他不高兴和都宾一路走;第四,这样把人叫醒,真是没心肝,不像个上等人.少佐没法,只好退出来,让乔斯重新再睡觉.
    不久,马车来了,少佐不肯再等了.
    英国贵族出门游览,或是报馆里送信的快差带着急信赶路,也不能比他更着急,政府里传递公文的专差更要慢得多.车夫们见他大手大脚的花钱,都觉得希罕.马车飞快的跑过一块块的里程碑,穿过整齐的乡镇,那儿的客店主人堆着笑,哈着腰来迎接他.路旁有美丽的小客店,招牌就挂在榆树枝上,赶货车的人马都在浓淡不一的树荫里喝水;还有古色古香的大宅子.大花园,灰色的教堂,旁边成窝儿的小村屋.一路都是眼熟的英国风景,非常可爱,田野里绿油油的一派欢乐的气象.世界上哪里有这样的好地方?在新回国的人看来,家乡真是和蔼可亲,仿佛一路在跟他拉手.可惜都宾少佐从沙乌撒泼顿到伦敦,除了路旁的里程碑之外什么都没有看见.那当然是因为他急着要回坎勃威尔去看望父母的缘故.
    他诚诚心心的坐车回到以前常去的斯洛德咖啡馆,只恨毕加迪莱到咖啡馆的一段路上太费时间.他和乔治年轻的时候常在那里吃喝作乐.那已经是多年前的旧事,如今他也算得上是个"老家伙"了.他的头发已经灰白,少年时的好些痴情,好些感触,也渐渐的淡忘了.那老茶房倒还站在门口,仍旧穿着那套油腻腻的黑衣服,双叠的下巴颏儿,腮帮子又松又软,表链上一大嘟噜印戳子,像从前一样把口袋里的钱摇得哗的响.约翰迎接少佐的样子,竟好像他离开那儿不过一个星期.他脸上没半点儿惊奇的表情,说道:"把少佐的东西搁在二十三号他自己房间里.今儿您大概吃烤鸡吧?您没有结婚?他们说您已经娶了太太了......你们那苏格兰军医到这儿来过的.不对!是三十三联队的亨倍上尉说的,他从前跟着第一联队驻扎在西印度.您要热水吗?您今儿怎么另外雇车呢?坐邮车不是挺好吗?"凡是在那里住过的军官,忠心的茶房都认识,也都记得.在他,十年好比一天.他说完了话,领着路走到都宾从前常住的屋子里.里面有一张大床,周围挂着粗呢的幔子;旧地毯比从前更旧了一些,那套黑木的旧家具也还在,椅子上印花布的面子都褪了色.一切和他年轻的时候没有两样.
    他还记得乔治结婚的前一天在房里走来走去,咬着指甲,赌神罚誓的说他老子总会回心转意,就是他不肯回心,他也不在乎.都宾还想像得出他跑进来的样子,把都宾的房门和他自己的房门碰得山响.当年他的房间就在都宾的房间近旁.
    约翰不慌不忙的把老朋友打量了一番,说道:"您没有变得怎么年轻."
    都宾笑道:"过了十年,害了一场热病,还能叫人年轻不成?你才是个不老公公.或者可以说你根本没有做过年轻人."
    约翰问道:"奥斯本上尉的太太怎么了?那小伙子长得很不错.天哪,他可真会花钱!结婚以后他一直没有回来,到今天还欠我三镑钱呢.瞧这儿,我的本子上还记着呢:'一八一五年四月十日,奥斯本上尉,三镑.,不知道他爸爸肯不肯把钱还给我."斯洛德咖啡馆的约翰说着,从口袋里掏出一本皮面的记事本子,上面油腻腻字迹模糊的一页上还记着这笔旧账,旁边另外有好些歪歪斜斜的字,全是关于当年别的老主顾的事情.
    约翰把客人送进了房间,又从从容容的走了.都宾少佐从小箱子里挑了一身最漂亮最好看的随常服装,一面笑嘻嘻的红了脸,觉得自己实在荒谬.他对着梳妆台上一面昏暗的小镜子端相自己灰白的头发和黧黑的皮肤,不由得好笑起来.他想:"约翰老头儿居然没把我忘掉,倒不错.希望她也还记得我."他从客店里出发,往白朗浦顿那边走去.
    这忠实的好人一路行来,细细的回想他最后一次跟爱米丽亚见面时的每一件小事情.他末了一回在毕加迪莱的时候,拱门和亚基里斯的像还没有造起来.他恍惚觉得视线所及随处都有变动.过了白朗浦顿,就有一条小路直通到她街上,他走上从前走熟的小路,身上已经在打哆嗦.她究竟是不是打算结婚呢?倘若这时候她和她孩子对面走来......天啊,那怎么办呢?他看见一个女人带着一个五岁的孩子,心里想:"是不是她呀?"他一想到有这样的可能,激动得浑身发抖.总算走到她住的一带屋子了.他走近栅栏门的时候,手握着栅栏顿了一顿,几乎听得见自己的心在扑通扑通的跳.他想道:"不管出了什么事,总求老天保佑她."接着他又说:"呸,没准她早就搬走了,"说着,走进门去.
    她以前住的会客室的窗户开着,里面并没有人.少佐恍惚看见那钢琴和上面的图画还是从前的老样子,心里又慌张起来.大门上仍旧安着克拉浦先生的铜牌子;都宾拉起门环敲了一下.
    一个肥硕的小姑娘,大约十六岁,一双眼睛亮晶晶的,脸蛋儿红里带紫,出来开了门,对少佐紧紧的瞅着.少佐站在那窄小的过道里,靠着墙,脸色白得像个鬼,支支吾吾的挣出一句:"奥斯本太太住在这儿吗?"
    她瞪眼看了他半晌,然后脸上也泛白了,说道:"天老爷,是都宾少佐呀!"她抖巍巍的伸出两手说道:"您不记得我啦?我从前常叫您糖子儿少佐的."少佐一听这话,抱住女孩儿吻了她一下,我看他这辈子还是第一遭这么大胆呢.她歇斯底里似的又哭又笑,使劲大叫"爹,妈!"把这两个好人儿给叫出来了.夫妻俩本来在他们那装饰得挺漂亮的厨房窗口往外端相他.他们看见一个大高个儿的男人,穿着钉长方扣子的蓝色外套,底下是白色细布裤子,站在门口抱着女孩儿,心上老大诧异.
    少佐忍不住红了脸说道:"我是你们的老朋友.克拉浦太太,不记得我了吗?你从前不是还做许多好吃的糕饼给我当点心吗?克拉浦,你忘了吗?我是乔治的干爹,刚从印度回来."接着大家忙着拉手;克拉浦太太又喜欢,又感动,在过道里不住口的叫天老爷.
    房东夫妇把好少佐让到赛特笠的房里......房里每一件家具陈设他都记得:用黄铜装璜的小小的旧钢琴(斯多泰牌子的货色,本来很讲究的),还有屏风,还有大理石的小墓碑,当中嵌着赛特笠先生的金表,正在的答的答的响.他坐在房客的圈椅里面,那父母女三人就把爱米丽亚的遭遇一样样的说给他听,讲到赛特笠太太怎么死,乔治怎么给他祖父奥斯本先生领去,寡妇离了儿子怎么伤心等等,一面说,一面唉啊唷的叹息个不完.这些事情我们早已听过,少佐却还不知道.有两三回,他很想扯到她的婚姻上去,可是总鼓不起勇气来,而且他也不愿意把心事向这些人吐露.后来他们告诉他说奥太太陪着她爹到坎新登花园去散步了.老先生身体不好,脾气也坏,把她折磨得难过日子,不过她倒真是和顺得像个天使.如今每逢饭后天气好,她总带他出去.
    少佐道:"我没有多少时候,今天晚上还有要紧的事情得办.不过我很想见见奥斯本太太.最好请玛丽小姐陪我去,给我领领路."
    玛丽小姐听了这话觉得出于意外,可是也很高兴.她说她认得这条路,可以领都宾少佐去;有的时候奥太太到......到勒塞尔广场去,就由她陪着赛特笠先生,所以知道他最喜欢的座位在什么地方.她跳跳蹦蹦的走到卧房里,一会儿戴上自己最好的帽子回出来.她还借了她妈妈的黄披肩跟大石子儿别针,为的是要配得上少佐的势派.
    少佐穿上方扣子蓝外套,戴上黄皮手套,伸出胳膊给小姑娘勾着,两个人快快乐乐的一起出门.他想起要跟爱米丽亚见面,心里慌张,很愿意旁边有个朋友.他又问玛丽许许多多关于爱米丽亚的问题.他这人是忠厚不过的,听到她被逼和儿子分手,不由得扎心的难受.她受得了吗?她常跟他见面吗?在物质生活方面,赛特笠先生舒服吗?玛丽尽她所知回答糖子儿少佐的问题.
    半路上发生了一件事,虽然没什么要紧,却把都宾少佐乐坏了.小路那一头来了一个脸皮苍白的后生,他一嘴稀稀朗朗的胡子,戴着又硬又白的领巾,一手勾着一个女的,自己给挤在当中.两个女人里头有一个已经中年,高高的身材,样子很威武,五官和脸色和身旁的英国国教牧师很像,走起路来迈着大步.另外一个是个小矮个子,黑皮肤,头上戴一顶漂亮的新帽子,上面配着白缎带,身上穿一件时髦的外套,挂一只漂亮的金表,恰恰在她身子中央.这位先生的两只胳膊已经给两位女士扣住,还得捧一把阳伞,一条披肩,一只篮子.他手里这么满满的,克拉浦小姐对他屈膝招呼的时候他当然不能举起手来碰帽子边还礼.
    他只点了一点头,两位女士倚老卖老的样子还了礼,虎起脸儿瞪着玛丽小姐旁边那个穿蓝外套.拿竹子拐棍儿的男人.
    少佐瞧着他们觉得好笑,站在路旁边让他们过去.然后问道:"他们是谁?"玛丽顽皮的瞧着他,说道:"那是我们的副牧师平尼先生"(都宾少佐愣了一愣),"一个是他姐姐平尼小姐.天哪,在主日学校里她把我们折磨的好苦啊!另外那个斜眼的小女人,挂着漂亮的金表的,就是平尼太太.她娘家姓葛立滋.她爹开杂货铺子,在坎新登石子坑还有一家铺子叫小金茶壶老店.他们上个月才结婚,如今刚从玛该脱回来.她名下有五千镑财产.这头亲事虽然是平尼小姐一手拉拢的,可是姑嫂俩已经吵过架了."
    少佐刚才一愣,如今简直是托的一跳.他把竹子拐棍儿在地上重重的打了一下,克拉浦小姐见他这样,笑着叫起天老爷来.玛丽议论他们家历史的当儿,他一声不言语,张开口瞧着那一对小夫妻的后影.他喜欢得昏头昏脑,除了牧师结婚的消息之外,什么都没有听进去.经过这件事情,他加紧脚步,恨不得快快的赶到地头.一方面他又嫌自己走的太快,只觉得一忽儿的功夫已经穿过白朗浦顿的街道,从那又小又旧的园门走进坎新登花园了.十年来他时时刻刻希望和她见面,事到临头却又紧张起来.
    玛丽小姐说:"他们在那儿."她说了这话,觉得身旁的少佐又是一愣,心里恍然大悟.故事里面的情节她全知道了.她最爱看《没爹的法尼》和《苏格兰领袖》这类小说,如今少佐的心事她已经一目了然,仿佛已经在书里看过一样.
    少佐说:"请你跑过去告诉她一声好不好?"玛丽拔脚就跑,黄披肩在微风中飘荡着.
    赛特笠老头儿坐在长凳上,膝盖上铺了一条手帕,像平常一般唠叨着从前的事情.这些话他说过不止一回,爱米丽亚总是很耐烦的微笑着让他说.近来她能够尽让父亲唠叨,一面想自己的心事,有时脸上挂着笑,有时用别的姿势来表示自己正在用心倾听,其实差不多一个字都没听见.爱米丽亚看见玛丽跳跳蹦蹦走上前来,急忙从长凳上站起来,第一个心思就是以为乔杰出了事情.可是传信的孩子脸上那么快乐高兴,胆小的母亲也就放心了.
    都宾少佐的专差叫道:"有新闻!有新闻!他来了!他来了!"
    爱米仍旧惦记着儿子,问道:"谁来了?"
    克拉浦小姐道:"瞧那儿!"她一面说,一面转过身去用手往回指着.爱米丽亚顺着她指点的方向一看,只见那瘦骨伶仃的都宾正在迈着大步穿过草坪向她这边走,长长的影子随着他.这回轮到爱米丽亚发愣了.她涨红了脸,眼泪当然也跟着流下来.这老实的小东西有了高兴的事是非哭不可的.
    她张开两手向他跑过去,准备跟他拉手.他一往情深的瞧着她,觉得她没有变,只是脸色没有从前红润,身材也胖了一点.她的眼睛还是老样子,眼神很和蔼,仿佛对人十分信赖.她那软绵绵的栗色头发里只有两三根白头发.她把两只手都伸给他,脸红红的抬起头对他的忠厚老实的脸儿含着眼泪微笑.他双手捧着她的小手,拉着她不放,半晌说不出话.他为什么不搂住她,罚誓永远不离开她呢?她准会让步;她没法不服从他.
    顿了一顿,他说:"还有另外一个人也来了."
    爱米丽亚往后退了一步,问道:"都宾太太吗?"一面估量他为什么不回答.
    他松了手,说道:"不是的.谁在造我的谣言?我要说的是,你哥哥乔斯跟我同船来的.他回家来叫你们大家过好日子了."
    爱米叫道:"爸爸!爸爸!有消息来了!哥哥回英国来了.他来照顾你了.都宾少佐在这儿呢."
    赛特笠先生霍的坐起来,浑身哆嗦,定了一定神.然后他走上前来,向少佐很老派的鞠了一躬,称他"都宾先生",并且问候他的老太爷威廉爵士.他说承爵士看得起,不久以前来望过他,他自己正打算去回拜.威廉爵士已经八年没有来看过他,他说起的就是八年前的旧事.
    爱米轻轻的说道:"他身子虚得很."都宾迎着老头儿,亲亲热热的跟他拉手.
    少佐本来说过那天晚上在伦敦还有要紧事,可是赛特笠先生请他回家吃茶点,他就把这件事情搁下来了.爱米丽亚和她那围黄披肩的小朋友勾着胳膊领头向回家的路上先走,让都宾去招呼赛特笠先生.老头儿慢慢的走着,说起许多老话,有些是关于他自己的,有些是关于可怜的蓓西的,又提到他从前怎么发达,后来怎么破产等等.他像一切气力衰退的老人一样,一心只想过去.关于眼前的遭遇,他只记得一件伤心事,其余都不在心上.少佐很愿意让他说话;他的眼睛只盯着前面那心爱的人儿.这多少年他老是想她,给她祷告,睡里梦里也惦记着她.
    那天晚上爱米丽亚笑眯眯活泼泼的非常快乐.都宾认为她做主妇做得又得体,又大方.他们坐在朦胧的暮色里,他的眼睛只是跟着她.这个机会,他已经渴望了多少时候了.在他远离家乡的时候,不管是在印度的热风里,或是在辛苦的征途上,他老是惦着她,想起她正像现在这样,很温柔,很快乐,孝顺体贴的伺候年老的父母,甘心情愿过苦日子,把贫穷的生活点缀得非常美丽.我并不称赞他的见解怎么高明,也不主张有大才智的人都应该像我们这位忠厚的老朋友一样,只求能得到这样的家常乐趣.可是这就是他的愿望,究竟是好是坏就不去管它了.只要爱米丽亚在替他斟茶,他就很愿意和约翰逊博士那么一杯杯的尽喝下去.
    爱米丽亚见他爱喝茶,笑着劝他多喝几杯.当她一杯一杯替他斟茶的时候,脸上的表情着实顽皮.原来她并不知道少佐还没吃晚饭,也不知道那餐晚饭还在斯洛德咖啡馆等着他.店里的人已经给他铺上桌布,摆好盘子,定了座.从前他和乔治时常吃喝作乐,使的就是那座儿.那时候,爱米丽亚刚从平克顿女学校出来,还是个孩子呢.
    奥斯本太太第一件事就把乔治的肖像给他看.她一到家就忙忙的跑上楼去把它拿下来.这肖像当然及不到本人一半那么漂亮,可是孩子居然想得着送肖像给母亲,由此可见他心地高尚.爱米丽亚在父亲醒着的时候没有多谈乔杰.老头儿不喜欢人家谈起奥斯本先生和勒塞尔广场,恐怕根本不知道最后几个月来他就靠着有钱的仇人救济他.每逢有人提起奥斯本,他就发脾气.
    都宾把拉姆轻特船上的经过都告诉他......说不定还编了些话,夸张乔斯对父亲怎么孝顺,怎么决意让他享几年老福.真情是这样的,少佐一路上结结实实的对同船的乔斯谈过话,使他明白自己对父亲的责任,而且逼他答应从此照料他的妹妹和外甥.关于那一回老头儿擅自开发票卖酒给他的事,乔斯很生气,都宾劝解了一番,并且笑着把他自己怎么问老头儿买酒,后来怎么吃亏的情形说了一遍.乔斯只要在高兴头上,再有人家奉承他几句,性子并不坏;都宾这么一调解,他对于欧洲的亲人就很有好心了.
    总而言之,少佐不顾事实,甚至于对赛特笠先生说乔斯回欧洲主要的原因就是看望父亲,这话说出来连我也觉得不好意思.
    到了一定的钟点,赛特笠先生坐在椅子里打盹儿,爱米丽亚才有机会开始说她的话.她满心急着要和他谈,说来说去都离不了乔杰.关于娘儿俩分离时的苦楚,她一句也不提.这个好人儿失掉了儿子虽然伤心得半死,可是总觉得自己罪孽深重,不该离了孩子就怨艾不平.她说的都是儿子的事,把他品行怎么好,才干怎么高,将来有什么前途,倾筐倒箧讲给少佐听.她描写孩子天使一样的相貌,举了多多少少的例子证明他为人慷慨,人格高超......这些都还是他和母亲同住的时候的事情.她说起有一次在坎新登花园,一位公爵夫人特地停下来夸赞他长得好看;又说起他现在的环境多么好,自己有小马,还有马夫.她形容他读书聪明,做事敏捷;他的老师劳伦斯.维尔牧师是个极有修养.很可爱的人物.爱米丽亚说:"他什么都懂.他的聚会真有趣.你自己也是怪有学问的,书看的又多,人又聪明,又有才学......你别摇头不承认,他从前总那么说.我想你准喜欢参加维尔牧师的聚会.他每个月的末一个星期二开会.他说乔杰将来要做议员就做议员,要做律师就做律师,要做得多高就是多高呢.瞧这儿."说着,她走过去在钢琴的抽屉里拿出乔杰的一篇作文.这篇天才的作品,乔治的妈妈至今还收着.内容是这样的:
    自　私
    在一切使人格堕落的不道德的行为之中,自私是最可恨最可耻的.过分的自爱使人走上犯大罪的道路,对于国家和家庭有极大的损害.自私的人使他家庭贫困,往往弄得一家人倾家荡产.自私的国王使他的人民受灾难,往往把他们卷入战争.
    举例来说,亚基利斯的自私,使希腊人受到无数的痛苦,正像诗人荷马在他的《伊里亚特》第二卷中所说的:"给希腊人带来了极大的灾祸".已故的拿破仑.波那帕脱,也因为他的自私,在欧洲引起许多次的战争,结果自己也只能死在大西洋中的圣海里娜荒岛上.
    由此可见我们不能只顾到自己的野心和利益,也要为别人着想才对.
    乔治.奥斯本于雅典学院一八二七,四,二四.
    做母亲的得意地说:"你想想看,他小小年纪就写得这么一笔好字,还会引用希腊文."她伸出手来说道:"唉,威廉,这孩子真是天赏给我的宝贝.他是我的安慰,而且跟......跟死了的人长得真像."
    威廉想道:"她对他忠诚到底,难道我反倒生气吗?像爱米丽亚这样的心只能爱一次,她是永远不变的,难道我还能因此觉得不高兴,反而跟我死去的朋友吃醋不成?唉,乔治,乔治,你真不知道自己的福气."爱米丽亚正在拿着手帕擦眼泪,威廉拉着她的手,这个心思就很快的在他心上掠过.
    她紧紧握着拉住她的手说:"亲爱的朋友,你对我真好!瞧,爸爸在动了.你明天就去看乔杰,好吗?"
    可怜的都宾答道:"明天不行.我还有事呢."他不愿意承认说他还没有回家去见过他父母和亲爱的安恩妹妹.他这样怠慢自己的亲人,想来凡是顾体统的人都要嗔怪他的.不久他和爱米丽亚父女俩告别,留下地址,等乔斯回家的时候给他.这样,第一天就算过去,他和她已经见过面了.
    当他回到斯洛德咖啡馆的时候,烤鸡当然已经冷掉,他就吃了一餐冷饭.他知道家里安息得早,不必深更半夜打搅他们,便到海依市场戏院出半价去看了一出戏.这事在历史上有过记载.我希望他那晚过得快活.

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

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401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

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CHAPTER LIX
The Old Piano
The Major's visit left old John Sedley in a great state of agitation and excitement. His daughter could not induce him to settle down to his customary occupations or amusements that night. He passed the evening fumbling amongst his boxes and desks, untying his papers with trembling hands, and sorting and arranging them against Jos's arrival. He had them in the greatest order--his tapes and his files, his receipts, and his letters with lawyers and correspondents; the documents relative to the wine project (which failed from a most unaccountable accident, after commencing with the most splendid prospects), the coal project (which only a want of capital prevented from becoming the most successful scheme ever put before the public), the patent saw-mills and sawdust consolidation project, &c., &c. All night, until a very late hour, he passed in the preparation of these documents, trembling about from one room to another, with a quivering candle and shaky hands. Here's the wine papers, here's the sawdust, here's the coals; here's my letters to Calcutta and Madras, and replies from Major Dobbin, C.B., and Mr. Joseph Sedley to the same. "He shall find no irregularity about ME, Emmy," the old gentleman said.
Emmy smiled. "I don't think Jos will care about seeing those papers, Papa," she said.
"You don't know anything about business, my dear," answered the sire, shaking his head with an important air. And it must be confessed that on this point Emmy was very ignorant, and that is a pity some people are so knowing. All these twopenny documents arranged on a side table, old Sedley covered them carefully over with a clean bandanna handkerchief (one out of Major Dobbin's lot) and enjoined the maid and landlady of the house, in the most solemn way, not to disturb those papers, which were arranged for the arrival of Mr. Joseph Sedley the next morning, "Mr. Joseph Sedley of the Honourable East India Company's Bengal Civil Service."
Amelia found him up very early the next morning, more eager, more hectic, and more shaky than ever. "I didn't sleep much, Emmy, my dear," he said. "I was thinking of my poor Bessy. I wish she was alive, to ride in Jos's carriage once again. She kept her own and became it very well." And his eyes filled with tears, which trickled down his furrowed old face. Amelia wiped them away, and smilingly kissed him, and tied the old man's neckcloth in a smart bow, and put his brooch into his best shirt frill, in which, in his Sunday suit of mourning, he sat from six o'clock in the morning awaiting the arrival of his son.
However, when the postman made his appearance, the little party were put out of suspense by the receipt of a letter from Jos to his sister, who announced that he felt a little fatigued after his voyage, and should not be able to move on that day, but that he would leave Southampton early the next morning and be with his father and mother at evening. Amelia, as she read out the letter to her father, paused over the latter word; her brother, it was clear, did not know what had happened in the family. Nor could he, for the fact is that, though the Major rightly suspected that his travelling companion never would be got into motion in so short a space as twenty-four hours, and would find some excuse for delaying, yet Dobbin had not written to Jos to inform him of the calamity which had befallen the Sedley family, being occupied in talking with Amelia until long after post-hour.
There are some splendid tailors' shops in the High Street of Southampton, in the fine plate-glass windows of which hang gorgeous waistcoats of all sorts, of silk and velvet, and gold and crimson, and pictures of the last new fashions, in which those wonderful gentlemen with quizzing glasses, and holding on to little boys with the exceeding large eyes and curly hair, ogle ladies in riding habits prancing by the Statue of Achilles at Apsley House. Jos, although provided with some of the most splendid vests that Calcutta could furnish, thought he could not go to town until he was supplied with one or two of these garments, and selected a crimson satin, embroidered with gold butterflies, and a black and red velvet tartan with white stripes and a rolling collar, with which, and a rich blue satin stock and a gold pin, consisting of a five-barred gate with a horseman in pink enamel jumping over it, he thought he might make his entry into London with some dignity. For Jos's former shyness and blundering blushing timidity had given way to a more candid and courageous self-assertion of his worth. "I don't care about owning it," Waterloo Sedley would say to his friends, "I am a dressy man"; and though rather uneasy if the ladies looked at him at the Government House balls, and though he blushed and turned away alarmed under their glances, it was chiefly from a dread lest they should make love to him that he avoided them, being averse to marriage altogether. But there was no such swell in Calcutta as Waterloo Sedley, I have heard say, and he had the handsomest turn- out, gave the best bachelor dinners, and had the finest plate in the whole place.
To make these waistcoats for a man of his size and dignity took at least a day, part of which he employed in hiring a servant to wait upon him and his native and in instructing the agent who cleared his baggage, his boxes, his books, which he never read, his chests of mangoes, chutney, and curry-powders, his shawls for presents to people whom he didn't know as yet, and the rest of his Persicos apparatus.
At length, he drove leisurely to London on the third day and in the new waistcoat, the native, with chattering teeth, shuddering in a shawl on the box by the side of the new European servant; Jos puffing his pipe at intervals within and looking so majestic that the little boys cried Hooray, and many people thought he must be a Governor-General. HE, I promise, did not decline the obsequious invitation of the landlords to alight and refresh himself in the neat country towns. Having partaken of a copious breakfast, with fish, and rice, and hard eggs, at Southampton, he had so far rallied at Winchester as to think a glass of sherry necessary. At Alton he stepped out of the carriage at his servant's request and imbibed some of the ale for which the place is famous. At Farnham he stopped to view the Bishop's Castle and to partake of a light dinner of stewed eels, veal cutlets, and French beans, with a bottle of claret. He was cold over Bagshot Heath, where the native chattered more and more, and Jos Sahib took some brandy-and-water; in fact, when he drove into town he was as full of wine, beer, meat, pickles, cherry-brandy, and tobacco as the steward's cabin of a steam-packet. It was evening when his carriage thundered up to the little door in Brompton, whither the affectionate fellow drove first, and before hieing to the apartments secured for him by Mr. Dobbin at the Slaughters'.
All the faces in the street were in the windows; the little maidservant flew to the wicket-gate; the Mesdames Clapp looked out from the casement of the ornamented kitchen; Emmy, in a great flutter, was in the passage among the hats and coats; and old Sedley in the parlour inside, shaking all over. Jos descended from the post-chaise and down the creaking swaying steps in awful state, supported by the new valet from Southampton and the shuddering native, whose brown face was now livid with cold and of the colour of a turkey's gizzard. He created an immense sensation in the passage presently, where Mrs. and Miss Clapp, coming perhaps to listen at the parlour door, found Loll Jewab shaking upon the hall- bench under the coats, moaning in a strange piteous way, and showing his yellow eyeballs and white teeth.
For, you see, we have adroitly shut the door upon the meeting between Jos and the old father and the poor little gentle sister inside. The old man was very much affected; so, of course, was his daughter; nor was Jos without feeling. In that long absence of ten years, the most selfish will think about home and early ties. Distance sanctifies both. Long brooding over those lost pleasures exaggerates their charm and sweetness. Jos was unaffectedly glad to see and shake the hand of his father, between whom and himself there had been a coolness--glad to see his little sister, whom he remembered so pretty and smiling, and pained at the alteration which time, grief, and misfortune had made in the shattered old man. Emmy had come out to the door in her black clothes and whispered to him of her mother's death, and not to speak of it to their father. There was no need of this caution, for the elder Sedley himself began immediately to speak of the event, and prattled about it, and wept over it plenteously. It shocked the Indian not a little and made him think of himself less than the poor fellow was accustomed to do.
The result of the interview must have been very satisfactory, for when Jos had reascended his post-chaise and had driven away to his hotel, Emmy embraced her father tenderly, appealing to him with an air of triumph, and asking the old man whether she did not always say that her brother had a good heart?
Indeed, Joseph Sedley, affected by the humble position in which he found his relations, and in the expansiveness and overflowing of heart occasioned by the first meeting, declared that they should never suffer want or discomfort any more, that he was at home for some time at any rate, during which his house and everything he had should be theirs: and that Amelia would look very pretty at the head of his table--until she would accept one of her own.
She shook her head sadly and had, as usual, recourse to the waterworks. She knew what he meant. She and her young confidante, Miss Mary, had talked over the matter most fully, the very night of the Major's visit, beyond which time the impetuous Polly could not refrain from talking of the discovery which she had made, and describing the start and tremor of joy by which Major Dobbin betrayed himself when Mr. Binny passed with his bride and the Major learned that he had no longer a rival to fear. "Didn't you see how he shook all over when you asked if he was married and he said, 'Who told you those lies?' Oh, M'am," Polly said, "he never kept his eyes off you, and I'm sure he's grown grey athinking of you."
But Amelia, looking up at her bed, over which hung the portraits of her husband and son, told her young protegee never, never, to speak on that subject again; that Major Dobbin had been her husband's dearest friend and her own and George's most kind and affectionate guardian; that she loved him as a brother--but that a woman who had been married to such an angel as that, and she pointed to the wall, could never think of any other union. Poor Polly sighed: she thought what she should do if young Mr. Tomkins, at the surgery, who always looked at her so at church, and who, by those mere aggressive glances had put her timorous little heart into such a flutter that she was ready to surrender at once,--what she should do if he were to die? She knew he was consumptive, his cheeks were so red and he was so uncommon thin in the waist.
Not that Emmy, being made aware of the honest Major's passion, rebuffed him in any way, or felt displeased with him. Such an attachment from so true and loyal a gentleman could make no woman angry. Desdemona was not angry with Cassio, though there is very little doubt she saw the Lieutenant's partiality for her (and I for my part believe that many more things took place in that sad affair than the worthy Moorish officer ever knew of); why, Miranda was even very kind to Caliban, and we may be pretty sure for the same reason. Not that she would encourage him in the least--the poor uncouth monster--of course not. No more would Emmy by any means encourage her admirer, the Major. She would give him that friendly regard, which so much excellence and fidelity merited; she would treat him with perfect cordiality and frankness until he made his proposals, and THEN it would be time enough for her to speak and to put an end to hopes which never could be realized.
She slept, therefore, very soundly that evening, after the conversation with Miss Polly, and was more than ordinarily happy, in spite of Jos's delaying. "I am glad he is not going to marry that Miss O'Dowd," she thought. "Colonel O'Dowd never could have a sister fit for such an accomplished man as Major William." Who was there amongst her little circle who would make him a good wife? Not Miss Binny, she was too old and ill-tempered; Miss Osborne? too old too. Little Polly was too young. Mrs. Osborne could not find anybody to suit the Major before she went to sleep.
The same morning brought Major Dobbin a letter to the Slaughters' Coffee-house from his friend at Southampton, begging dear Dob to excuse Jos for being in a rage when awakened the day before (he had a confounded headache, and was just in his first sleep), and entreating Dob to engage comfortable rooms at the Slaughters' for Mr. Sedley and his servants. The Major had become necessary to Jos during the voyage. He was attached to him, and hung upon him. The other passengers were away to London. Young Ricketts and little Chaffers went away on the coach that day--Ricketts on the box, and taking the reins from Botley; the Doctor was off to his family at Portsea; Bragg gone to town to his co-partners; and the first mate busy in the unloading of the Ramchunder. Mr. Joe was very lonely at Southampton, and got the landlord of the George to take a glass of wine with him that day, at the very hour at which Major Dobbin was seated at the table of his father, Sir William, where his sister found out (for it was impossible for the Major to tell fibs) that he had been to see Mrs. George Osborne.
Jos was so comfortably situated in St. Martin's Lane, he could enjoy his hookah there with such perfect ease, and could swagger down to the theatres, when minded, so agreeably, that, perhaps, he would have remained altogether at the Slaughters' had not his friend, the Major, been at his elbow. That gentleman would not let the Bengalee rest until he had executed his promise of having a home for Amelia and his father. Jos was a soft fellow in anybody's hands, Dobbin most active in anybody's concerns but his own; the civilian was, therefore, an easy victim to the guileless arts of this good-natured diplomatist and was ready to do, to purchase, hire, or relinquish whatever his friend thought fit. Loll Jewab, of whom the boys about St. Martin's Lane used to make cruel fun whenever he showed his dusky countenance in the street, was sent back to Calcutta in the Lady Kicklebury East Indiaman, in which Sir William Dobbin had a share, having previously taught Jos's European the art of preparing curries, pilaus, and pipes. It was a matter of great delight and occupation to Jos to superintend the building of a smart chariot which he and the Major ordered in the neighbouring Long Acre: and a pair of handsome horses were jobbed, with which Jos drove about in state in the park, or to call upon his Indian friends. Amelia was not seldom by his side on these excursions, when also Major Dobbin would be seen in the back seat of the carriage. At other times old Sedley and his daughter took advantage of it, and Miss Clapp, who frequently accompanied her friend, had great pleasure in being recognized as she sat in the carriage, dressed in the famous yellow shawl, by the young gentleman at the surgery, whose face might commonly be seen over the window-blinds as she passed.
Shortly after Jos's first appearance at Brompton, a dismal scene, indeed, took place at that humble cottage at which the Sedleys had passed the last ten years of their life. Jos's carriage (the temporary one, not the chariot under construction) arrived one day and carried off old Sedley and his daughter--to return no more. The tears that were shed by the landlady and the landlady's daughter at that event were as genuine tears of sorrow as any that have been outpoured in the course of this history. In their long acquaintanceship and intimacy they could not recall a harsh word that had been uttered by Amelia She had been all sweetness and kindness, always thankful, always gentle, even when Mrs. Clapp lost her own temper and pressed for the rent. When the kind creature was going away for good and all, the landlady reproached herself bitterly for ever having used a rough expression to her--how she wept, as they stuck up with wafers on the window, a paper notifying that the little rooms so long occupied were to let! They never would have such lodgers again, that was quite clear. After-life proved the truth of this melancholy prophecy, and Mrs. Clapp revenged herself for the deterioration of mankind by levying the most savage contributions upon the tea-caddies and legs of mutton of her locataires. Most of them scolded and grumbled; some of them did not pay; none of them stayed. The landlady might well regret those old, old friends, who had left her.
As for Miss Mary, her sorrow at Amelia's departure was such as I shall not attempt to depict. From childhood upwards she had been with her daily and had attached herself so passionately to that dear good lady that when the grand barouche came to carry her off into splendour, she fainted in the arms of her friend, who was indeed scarcely less affected than the good-natured girl. Amelia loved her like a daughter. During eleven years the girl had been her constant friend and associate. The separation was a very painful one indeed to her. But it was of course arranged that Mary was to come and stay often at the grand new house whither Mrs. Osborne was going, and where Mary was sure she would never be so happy as she had been in their humble cot, as Miss Clapp called it, in the language of the novels which she loved.
Let us hope she was wrong in her judgement. Poor Emmy's days of happiness had been very few in that humble cot. A gloomy Fate had oppressed her there. She never liked to come back to the house after she had left it, or to face the landlady who had tyrannized over her when ill-humoured and unpaid, or when pleased had treated her with a coarse familiarity scarcely less odious. Her servility and fulsome compliments when Emmy was in prosperity were not more to that lady's liking. She cast about notes of admiration all over the new house, extolling every article of furniture or ornament; she fingered Mrs. Osborne's dresses and calculated their price. Nothing could be too good for that sweet lady, she vowed and protested. But in the vulgar sycophant who now paid court to her, Emmy always remembered the coarse tyrant who had made her miserable many a time, to whom she had been forced to put up petitions for time, when the rent was overdue; who cried out at her extravagance if she bought delicacies for her ailing mother or father; who had seen her humble and trampled upon her.
Nobody ever heard of these griefs, which had been part of our poor little woman's lot in life. She kept them secret from her father, whose improvidence was the cause of much of her misery. She had to bear all the blame of his misdoings, and indeed was so utterly gentle and humble as to be made by nature for a victim.
I hope she is not to suffer much more of that hard usage. And, as in all griefs there is said to be some consolation, I may mention that poor Mary, when left at her friend's departure in a hysterical condition, was placed under the medical treatment of the young fellow from the surgery, under whose care she rallied after a short period. Emmy, when she went away from Brompton, endowed Mary with every article of furniture that the house contained, only taking away her pictures (the two pictures over the bed) and her piano-- that little old piano which had now passed into a plaintive jingling old age, but which she loved for reasons of her own. She was a child when first she played on it, and her parents gave it her. It had been given to her again since, as the reader may remember, when her father's house was gone to ruin and the instrument was recovered out of the wreck.
Major Dobbin was exceedingly pleased when, as he was superintending the arrangements of Jos's new house--which the Major insisted should be very handsome and comfortable--the cart arrived from Brompton, bringing the trunks and bandboxes of the emigrants from that village, and with them the old piano. Amelia would have it up in her sitting-room, a neat little apartment on the second floor, adjoining her father's chamber, and where the old gentleman sat commonly of evenings.
When the men appeared then bearing this old music-box, and Amelia gave orders that it should be placed in the chamber aforesaid, Dobbin was quite elated. "I'm glad you've kept it," he said in a very sentimental manner. "I was afraid you didn't care about it."
"I value it more than anything I have in the world," said Amelia.
"Do you, Amelia?" cried the Major. The fact was, as he had bought it himself, though he never said anything about it, it never entered into his head to suppose that Emmy should think anybody else was the purchaser, and as a matter of course he fancied that she knew the gift came from him. "Do you, Amelia?" he said; and the question, the great question of all, was trembling on his lips, when Emmy replied--
"Can I do otherwise?--did not he give it me?"
"I did not know," said poor old Dob, and his countenance fell.
Emmy did not note the circumstance at the time, nor take immediate heed of the very dismal expression which honest Dobbin's countenance assumed, but she thought of it afterwards. And then it struck her, with inexpressible pain and mortification too, that it was William who was the giver of the piano, and not George, as she had fancied. It was not George's gift; the only one which she had received from her lover, as she thought--the thing she had cherished beyond all others--her dearest relic and prize. She had spoken to it about George; played his favourite airs upon it; sat for long evening hours, touching, to the best of her simple art, melancholy harmonies on the keys, and weeping over them in silence. It was not George's relic. It was valueless now. The next time that old Sedley asked her to play, she said it was shockingly out of tune, that she had a headache, that she couldn't play.
Then, according to her custom, she rebuked herself for her pettishness and ingratitude and determined to make a reparation to honest William for the slight she had not expressed to him, but had felt for his piano. A few days afterwards, as they were seated in the drawing-room, where Jos had fallen asleep with great comfort after dinner, Amelia said with rather a faltering voice to Major Dobbin--
"I have to beg your pardon for something."
"About what?" said he.
"About--about that little square piano. I never thanked you for it when you gave it me, many, many years ago, before I was married. I thought somebody else had given it. Thank you, William." She held out her hand, but the poor little woman's heart was bleeding; and as for her eyes, of course they were at their work.
But William could hold no more. "Amelia, Amelia," he said, "I did buy it for you. I loved you then as I do now. I must tell you. I think I loved you from the first minute that I saw you, when George brought me to your house, to show me the Amelia whom he was engaged to. You were but a girl, in white, with large ringlets; you came down singing--do you remember?--and we went to Vauxhall. Since then I have thought of but one woman in the world, and that was you. I think there is no hour in the day has passed for twelve years that I haven't thought of you. I came to tell you this before I went to India, but you did not care, and I hadn't the heart to speak. You did not care whether I stayed or went."
"I was very ungrateful," Amelia said.
"No, only indifferent," Dobbin continued desperately. "I have nothing to make a woman to be otherwise. I know what you are feeling now. You are hurt in your heart at the discovery about the piano, and that it came from me and not from George. I forgot, or I should never have spoken of it so. It is for me to ask your pardon for being a fool for a moment, and thinking that years of constancy and devotion might have pleaded with you."
"It is you who are cruel now," Amelia said with some spirit. "George is my husband, here and in heaven. How could I love any other but him? I am his now as when you first saw me, dear William. It was he who told me how good and generous you were, and who taught me to love you as a brother. Have you not been everything to me and my boy? Our dearest, truest, kindest friend and protector? Had you come a few months sooner perhaps you might have spared me that--that dreadful parting. Oh, it nearly killed me, William--but you didn't come, though I wished and prayed for you to come, and they took him too away from me. Isn't he a noble boy, William? Be his friend still and mine"--and here her voice broke, and she hid her face on his shoulder.
The Major folded his arms round her, holding her to him as if she was a child, and kissed her head. "I will not change, dear Amelia," he said. "I ask for no more than your love. I think I would not have it otherwise. Only let me stay near you and see you often."
"Yes, often," Amelia said. And so William was at liberty to look and long--as the poor boy at school who has no money may sigh after the contents of the tart-woman's tray.

第五十九章    旧　钢　琴
    少佐来过之后,约翰.赛特笠老头儿兴奋得不得了.当晚他的女儿简直没法使他按老习惯行事,或是找往常的消遣.整个黄昏,他就在箱子桌子堆里摸索,手抖抖的解开许多文件,把它们收拾整齐,准备乔斯回家的时候给他看.他的带子.文件.收据,他和律师来往的信札,都拾掇得有条有理.此外还有关于卖酒计划的文件,卖煤计划的文件,木材木屑统一专卖计划的文件等等.那卖酒的计划起先希望大极了,不知怎么后来会失败;卖煤计划就因为缺少本钱,要不然准有空前的成功.他的准备工作直做到夜深.在摇曳不定的蜡烛光里,他抖巍巍的在几间房间里摸来摸去,两只手不停的打哆嗦.老先生说道:"这是卖酒计划的文件,这是卖煤的,这是卖木屑的;这是我写到加尔各答和玛德拉斯的信,还有下级骑士都宾少佐和乔瑟夫.赛特笠先生的回信.爱米,我不愿意他回来看见我把事情办得乱七八糟."
    爱米笑了一笑,说道:"爸爸,我想乔斯不会要看这些文件吧?"
    父亲摇头摆脑的答道:"亲爱的,正经事你是不懂的."说实话,关于这一点爱米的确什么也不懂,我只觉得有些人懂得太多,反是件憾事.赛特笠老头儿把这些不值钱的文件整整齐齐搁在靠墙的一张桌子上,很小心的拿块干净的细布手帕盖好(手帕还是都宾少佐送的),郑重其事的吩咐女佣人和房东太太不要把这些东西乱动,因为第二天早上乔瑟夫.赛特笠先生来了要查看的.他告诉她们说:"乔瑟夫.赛特笠先生现在在东印度公司孟加拉民政部做事."
    第二天早晨,爱米丽亚发现他一早就起来了,比前一天更急切,更兴奋,也更虚瑟瑟的没力气.他说:"爱米,亲爱的,我没有睡多少时候,夜里一直在想着可怜的蓓茜.可惜她不在了,不能再坐乔斯的马车了.从前她有自己的马车,她坐在里头也很像样."说着,他满眼是泪,沿着打皱的腮帮子流下来.爱米丽亚替他擦眼泪,微笑着吻他,给他打了一个漂亮的领结,还在他最好的衬衫上别上别针.这样,他穿了最讲究的丧服,从早上六点钟起就坐着等儿子回家.
    在沙乌撒泼顿的大街上有几家讲究的时装铺子,橱窗里摆着各种漂亮的背心,有绸缎的,有丝绒的,有金色的,有红色的.橱窗里还挂着时装画报,上面画着漂亮的先生,戴着单片眼镜,手里牵着大眼睛卷头发的小男孩儿,斜着眼在看太太小姐们;那些女的穿着骑马装,骑在跳跃的马上,在亚泼斯莱大厦的亚基里斯雕像旁边走过.乔斯已经在加尔各答买了几件背心,在当地算得上数一数二的漂亮,可是他觉得走进伦敦之前,非得再买一两件橱窗里摆着的新背心不可.他挑了一件绣着金色蝴蝶的红缎子背心,一件红黑方格上加白条子的丝绒背心,一个反卷的硬领,一条鲜艳的领带,还买了一只金别针,是一扇五根栅栏的小门,一个粉红色的珐琅人骑在马上正在跳过去.他认为在走进伦敦的时候非有这个排场不可.乔斯从前很怕羞,胆子又小,见了人就涨红了脸,做出事来脱枝失节.可是现在不同了,变得很喜欢逞能,总让人家知道他的重要.滑铁卢赛特笠对他的朋友们说:"我是讲究穿衣服的,我也不怕人家知道."有时总督府开跳舞会,碰上女人对他一端相,他还是免不了着急,吓得红了脸转身就逃.不过他慌张的原因多半是怕她们追求他,因为他根本不要结婚.据说在加尔各答就数滑铁卢赛特笠是头等的阔佬.他的排场最大,单身汉子里面,只有他请客最讲究,他的碗盏器皿也最精致.
    要替他这样气派.这样大小的人物做背心,最少得一整天.在这一天里头,他雇了一个佣人伺候他跟他的印度人.同时又吩咐代理人替他集叠行李.箱子.书籍(这些书他从来也不看).一匣匣的芒果.腌渍的酸辣菜.咖哩粉,还有披肩和各种礼物,还不知该送给谁.此外还有许多东方带回来的奢侈品,也需要收拾.
    到第三天,他穿了新背心很悠闲的坐了马车到伦敦来.他的印度佣人裹着一条披肩,冷得牙齿格格的打战,挨着那个欧洲佣人坐在马夫座位上发抖.乔斯坐在马车里面,不时抽抽烟斗,样子十分威风,引得路上的小孩儿大声欢呼,有许多人以为他准是一个大总督.我可以肯定的说一句,当他路过干净的乡镇,有酒店主人出来奉迎他,请他下车吃东西,他从来不拒绝.他在沙乌撒泼顿吃过一顿丰盛的早饭,有鱼,有米饭,有煮老鸡蛋,哪知道到了温却斯特,他已经又觉得需要喝一杯雪利酒了.在亚尔顿,他听了佣人的话,下车喝了些当地闻名的淡麦酒.在法纳姆,他去参观主教堡,又吃了一餐便饭,有焖鳝鱼.小牛肉片.法国豆子和一瓶红酒.到了巴格夏荒地,天气很冷,印度人越抖越凶,因此乔斯大爷又喝了些搀水的白兰地酒.总而言之,到达伦敦的时候,他的肚子活像汽船上总管的房间,装满了葡萄酒.啤酒.肉.酸辣菜.樱桃白兰地和香烟.直到傍晚时分,他的马车才轰隆轰隆来到白朗浦顿,在小门前面停下来.这家伙很重感情,都宾先生已经在斯洛德咖啡馆给他定了房间,他却先到家里来.
    这条街上的人都从窗口探出头来张望;那小丫头飞奔到栅栏门口;克拉浦母女从兼做会客间的厨房窗口往外看;爱米心慌意乱,在过道里挂衣帽的地方等着;赛特笠老头儿在客室里浑身索索的抖.乔斯在马车里踩着那摇摇晃晃的踏步下来,脚底下吱吱的直响,真是威风十足.沙乌撒泼顿雇来的新佣人和那印度听差一边一个扶着.印度人浑身发抖,棕黄的脸皮冻得泛青,活是火鸡肫的颜色.他在过道里轰动了一屋子的人;原来克拉浦太太和克拉浦小姐走上楼梯,大概想在客厅门外偷听里面的动静,不承望看见洛耳.奇活勃坐在大衣下面的一张板凳上发抖,露出一口白牙齿,眼睛倒插上去,只剩发黄的眼白,一面怪可怜的哼哼唧唧,那声音古怪极了.
    我乖巧的关上了门,把里面乔斯和他年老的父亲和可怜的温柔的小妹妹怎么见面的情形,略过不谈了.老头儿非常感动;他的女儿当然也非常感动;乔斯呢,也不是无情的人.他离家十年,在这么长的一段时期之中,哪怕最自私的人也会想到老家和小时候的亲人.路程越隔得远,老家和亲人越显得神圣.过去的赏心乐事在长期的回忆当中更添了情趣,更令人向往.乔斯从前虽然对于父亲不满意,不过现在能够重新和他见面,和他拉手,倒是觉得出于衷心的喜欢.他记得小妹妹一向容貌俊俏,满面笑容,现在重逢,自然也是高兴的.瞧着父亲年纪大了,而且给伤心不幸的遭遇磨折得老态龙钟,他心里又觉得凄惨.一起头的时候,爱米穿了黑衣服先迎出来,在门口悄悄的告诉他说母亲已经不在了,叮嘱他不要在父亲面前提起这事.其实这个警告也是多余的,赛特笠老头儿立刻就谈到这件事,噜噜嗦嗦说了许多话,掉了许多眼泪.那印度人看了老大害怕;可怜的家伙平常只想自己,吃了这一惊,把自己的事情忘掉了好些.
    看来重逢以后大家很满意.等到乔斯重新坐了马车上旅馆之后,爱米很温柔的搂着父亲,得意的说她早就夸过哥哥心肠好.
    这话倒是真的.乔瑟夫.赛特笠看着家里的人生活这么清苦,心里很感动,再加初次会面时热情冲动,他在兴头上,便起誓说以后不让他们再过苦日子了.他说反正他预备在本国住一阵子,他的屋子和他的一切都给他们享用.他还说爱米丽亚在他请客的时候做起主妇来一定很得体,所以她尽不妨和他同住,到她愿意自立门户的时候再说.
    她很伤心的摇摇头,又像平时一样掉下泪来.她懂得哥哥话里有因.少佐来过以后,当晚她就和她的心腹小朋友玛丽小姐细细的谈过这件事.玛丽是急性子,发现了秘密,到晚上再也忍不住,便对爱米描写都宾少佐看见平尼先生带着新娘走过的时候,起先怎么发怔,后来怎么乐得浑身打哆嗦,就因为他知道不必把平尼先生当作情敌的缘故.玛丽说:"他问您说:'谁在造谣言?,一边说一边发抖,您难道没看见吗?嗳唷,太太啊,他两个眼睛一直瞧着您.我想他准是因为生相思病所以把头发都想白了."
    爱米丽亚抬头看看床面前丈夫和儿子的画像,一面告诉那受她照顾的小姑娘以后再也不准提起这件事.她说都宾少佐是她丈夫最好的朋友,又是乔杰和她自己最亲近最好心的保护人,她把他当作哥哥一样爱他,"可是,"她指指墙上说,"一个女人已经嫁过天使一般的好丈夫,决不愿意再嫁第二回."可怜的玛丽叹了一口气,心里想着外科医生诊所里那年轻的汤姆金先生.在教堂做礼拜的时候他老是那么瞧着她;一看他挑逗的眼光,她那怯弱的心就跳个不停,准备把自己终身托付给他.如果他死了,那可怎么办呢?她知道他有痨病,他脸上时常上火,腰身比别人瘦小得多.
    爱米知道忠厚的少佐热烈的爱她,可是并不嫌他,也不对他表示冷淡.男人肯这么死心塌地的一直爱到底,女人总不会因此生气.拿着苔丝迪梦娜(莎士比亚悲剧《奥塞罗》中的女主角,后来因为有人毁谤她和丈夫手下的军官加西奥私通,给丈夫杀死.摩尔军官就是指奥塞罗本人.)来说,她多半知道加西奥中尉喜欢她,可并没有生他的气.照我的看法,在那次悲剧里面还有好些事情都是那位贤明的摩尔军官不知道的.还有密兰达(莎士比亚喜剧《暴风雨》中的女主角,加立本不过是服她父亲指挥的一个怪物.萨克雷此地不过在开玩笑,他的说法是全无根据的.),她对加立本还挺客气的呢,看来一定也是为这个原因.我当然并不是说她有意怂恿他来追求自己,那可怜东西不过是个又野又粗的怪物罢了.同样的,爱米也没有鼓励少佐来追求她.她只准备拿出又热和又尊敬的态度来对待他,因为他为人好,待朋友忠诚,值得人家尊重.在他开口求婚之前,她一定要努力让自己的态度坦白亲切.到他求婚的时候,她当然就叫他死了心,因为他这些希望是不可能实现的.
    因为这样,当晚她和玛丽谈过话以后睡得很香,而且虽然乔斯没有准时回家,她却是异乎寻常的快乐.她想:"他不娶奥多小姐我倒是很高兴.奥多上校决计不会有个妹妹配得上像威廉少佐那么多才多艺的人."在她的小圈子里谁嫁给他最合适呢?平尼小姐不行,她太老了,脾气又不好.奥斯本小姐吗?也太老.小玛丽又太年轻.奥斯本太太睡觉以前想来想去也没找出一个配得上少佐的人.
    第二天,邮差送来一封信,是乔斯写给妹妹的,信里说他刚下了船,觉得很疲倦,所以那天不能动身,必须等到第二天一早才能离开沙乌撒泼顿,傍晚时分便能和父母见面.有了信,家里的人也就不心焦了.爱米丽亚把信念给父亲听,念到"和父母见面"一句,顿了一顿.看上去她的哥哥还不知道家里的情形.这不能怪他;事情是这样的,都宾少佐虽然明知他的旅伴决不会在二十四小时内动身回家,准会找推托随处流连,却没有写信把乔斯家里的坏消息先通知他,因为他隔夜和爱米丽亚谈得太久,来不及寄信了.
    也就在那天早晨,都宾少佐在斯洛德咖啡馆里接到他朋友从沙乌撒泼顿寄来的信,信上提到他隔天早晨给吵醒以后发脾气的事情,求亲爱的都宾原谅,因为他那时刚刚睡着不久,头痛的厉害.同时他又委托都宾在斯洛德咖啡馆给他和他的两个佣人定下几间舒服的房间.一路回国的时候,乔斯什么都倚赖都宾.他离不开他,老是纠缠着他.那天,别的旅客都已经回到伦敦.年轻的里该滋和却弗斯是坐着邮车去的;里该滋坐在马车夫鲍脱莱旁边,把缰绳抢过来自己赶车子.医生回到包德西的老家去了;白拉格船长到伦敦去找其余的股东;船上的大副正忙着把货物从拉姆轻特船上卸下来.乔斯先生在沙乌撒泼顿冷静得很,只好请乔治旅馆的老板一块儿喝酒.就在那时候,都宾也在家里吃饭,跟父母和妹妹们坐在一桌.都宾少佐不会撒谎,他的妹妹把话一套,马上知道他回家之前已经先去拜访过奥斯本太太.

    乔斯在圣马丁街住得很舒服.他不但能够静静儿的抽水烟,如果有兴致的话,也可以大摇大摆的上戏院看戏.他的生活那么安逸,倘若没有少佐在旁边催促着他,说不定他就会一直在斯洛德咖啡馆住下去.这位孟加拉客人曾经答应给他父亲和爱米丽亚布置一个家,因此少佐逼着他赶紧践约,要不然就不让他过安静日子.好在乔斯是肯听人调度的,都宾又是除了自己的事以外都肯出死力干的.这好性子的家伙手段着实圆滑,把那印度官儿笼络得言听计从,该买什么,该租什么,什么事该办,什么东西该脱手,全让他做主.洛耳.奇活勃不久就给送回加尔各答;他坐的是吉格尔白莱夫人号邮船,威廉.都宾爵士就是那家船公司的股东.印度人在圣马丁街的时候,每逢上街,顽童们瞧见了他的黑脸就来捉弄他.后来他把做咖哩.煮比劳.装水烟的法子教会了乔斯的欧洲佣人,自己回家了.乔斯和少佐在附近朗爱格地方定做了一辆漂亮的马车;乔斯忙忙碌碌监看着工人打造马车,兴头得不得了.他又租了两匹好马,于是排场十足的在公园里兜风,或是去拜访在印度结交的朋友.爱米丽亚常常陪他出去,在这些时候,都宾便也来了,坐在马车的倒座上陪着.有时候赛特笠老头儿和他女儿也使那辆马车.克拉浦小姐时常陪她朋友出去;她披着那块有名的黄披肩坐在马车里,瞧见医生诊所里的小后生在对她看,心里非常得意.每逢她坐在马车里走过,小后生总是在诊所的百叶窗上面探头出来张望.
    乔斯到白朗浦顿去过之后不久,住在赛特笠他们小屋里的人大家都伤心了一场.赛特笠一家在这所简陋的房子里已经住了十年.那天,乔斯派了马车(暂时租来的一辆,不是正在打造的大马车)......乔斯派了马车来接赛特笠和他女儿.他们离开之后当然不再回来了.房东太太和她女儿那一回倒是真心难受,这本历史里面无论什么人的眼泪都不能比她们的更真诚.她们和爱米丽亚从认识到相熟,那么长的一段时期里面,从来没有听见她说过一句伤人的话.她温柔近情,待人和气,得了一点好处就感谢不尽,甚至于在克拉浦太太发脾气逼着要房钱的时候也不变原来的态度.房东太太眼看着这好人儿从此一去不返,想起以前对她很不客气,心里悔之无及.她一面在窗口张贴召租条子,想法子把一向有人住的房子再租出去,一面伤心落泪.很明显的,他们以后再也找不着这么好的房客了.后来的日子证明这惨痛的预言一些也不错.克拉浦太太怨恨世道人心越来越堕落,只好在供应茶箱和羊腿的当儿狠狠的问房客多收点儿钱,借此出口气.大多数的房客都爱骂人,爱抱怨;有些人不付房租;没有一个住长了的.怪不得房东太太想念走掉的老朋友.
    玛丽小姐和爱米丽亚分手的时候有多么伤心,我简直说不上来.她从小到大,天天跟那位亲爱的好太太在一起,倒是一片热心和她好.她眼看着漂亮的马车来接她朋友去过好日子,伤心得晕倒在朋友的怀里.爱米丽亚差不多跟这好性子的姑娘一样感动.十一年来,玛丽一直是她的朋友,她的伴侣,她把玛丽就当作自己的女儿一样,临别的时候真是割舍不下.她们俩当然早已约好,奥斯本太太在漂亮的新房子里住定以后,常常接玛丽去住.玛丽说爱米丽亚住了大房子一定没有在他们"寒微的茅舍"里快活.她爱看小说,所以模仿小说的语气,管自己的家叫"茅舍".
    希望她猜测得不对,因为可怜的爱米在那"寒微的茅舍"里并没有过了几天快乐的日子.她的坏运气一直在折磨她.离了那屋子,她再也不愿意回去了.碰上房东太太脾气不好或是收不着房租的当儿,她恶狠狠的欺负爱米;到她一高兴,又亲昵得叫人肉麻,那腔调也一样可厌.如今她见爱米日子过得顺利,一味的拍马屁讨好,爱米也并不喜欢.克拉浦太太在新房子里一片声奉承,不论看见什么家具和摆设,都不住口的赞叹.她抚弄着奥斯本太太的衣服,估计它们值多少钱.她赌神罚誓的说,像爱米这样的好人,什么讲究东西都配使.虽然她说了一大堆寒伧的奉承话儿,爱米只记得她以前恶赖凶狠,自己时常受她欺负.每逢房租过了期没付,爱米得向她讨情;爱米买了些细巧的食品孝敬生病的父母,又得听她批评自己浪费.她曾经看着爱米失意,也曾经作践过她.
    可怜的小爱米一辈子吃过不少这样的苦,可是没有人知道她的难处.这些话她从来不对父亲说,事实上她吃亏的原因多半是因为父亲糊涂.他干了坏事,女儿就得代他受罪.她这样温柔虚心,天生就是受人欺负的.
    但愿她此后再不必受这样的糟蹋了.据说有痛苦就有跟着来的安慰,可怜的玛丽在朋友离开之后悲伤得眼泪鼻涕的哭闹,亏得医生诊所里的小后生来替她治病,才使她身体复原.爱米在离开白朗浦顿的时候把屋子里所有的家具都送给玛丽,只带走了床头的两张画像和她的钢琴.这架又小又旧的钢琴年代已经很久,发出来的声音叮叮东东的幽怨得很,不过她因为特别的原故,非常爱它.这钢琴原是当年她父母买给她的;她开始弹琴的时候,还是个孩子呢.读者想来还记得,后来她的父亲破产,有一个人特地从残余的家具里面把它买回来,重新送给爱米.
    都宾少佐监督着布置乔斯的新房子,打定主意要把屋子里弄得又舒服又美观.正在忙碌的时候,一辆车子载着老房子里搬过来的箱子匣子,还有那架钢琴,从白朗浦顿来了,都宾看了满心喜欢.爱米丽亚吩咐把钢琴抬到三层楼上那间整齐的起坐间里搁好.那起坐间连着她父亲的卧房,老头儿后来一到黄昏便坐在里面歇息.
    都宾看见打抬着钢琴,爱米丽亚又叫他们抬到她的起坐间,心里得意,多情地说道:"你还把它留着,我真高兴.我还以为你对它满不在乎."
    爱米丽亚道:"在我眼睛里,它比世界上一切东西都宝贵."
    都宾虽然并没有把买钢琴的事跟别人说起,可是也没有想到爱米会以为钢琴是别人买的.他想爱米当然知道这是他送的礼.因此他叫起来说:"真的吗,爱米丽亚?真的吗,爱米丽亚?"最重要的大问题已经到了他的嘴边,哪知道爱米答道:"我怎么能够不宝贝它?这不是他给我的吗?"
    可怜的都宾垂头丧气的答道:"我倒没有知道."
    当时爱米并没有留心,也没有注意到忠厚的都宾那嗒丧的脸儿,后来她回想那时的情形,忽然明白过来,原来她以前弄错了,送钢琴给她的是威廉,不是乔治.这么一悟过来,她心里说不出的难受和懊恼.原来钢琴并不是乔治给的,她一向总以为它是爱人送给她的唯一的纪念品,把它当作宝贝,看得比一切都重.她对它谈起乔治;用它弹奏乔治最喜欢的曲子;在漫长的黄昏里坐在它旁边,尽她所能,在琴键上奏出忧郁的歌儿,一面悄悄的掉眼泪.既然它不是乔治的东西,还有什么价值呢?有一回赛特笠要她弹琴,她推说钢琴已经走了音,她自己又头痛,不高兴弹.
    然后她又像平常一样,责怪自己小器没良心,决意要给老实的威廉一些补偿,因为她虽然没有明白表示瞧不起他的钢琴,心里却是那样想.几天之后,他们饭后都聚在客厅里,乔斯怪舒服的睡着了,爱米亚丽便吞吞吐吐的对都宾说:"我得向你赔个不是才好."
    他说:"赔什么不是呢?"
    "就是为那架......那架小方钢琴.那还是好多年前我结婚以前你送给我的,我一直也没有给你道谢.我以为是另外一个人给我的.谢谢你,威廉."可怜的爱米伸出手来给他拉手,心里却像刀绞的一样痛,她的眼睛当然也没有闲着.
    威廉再也忍不住了.他说:"爱米丽亚,爱米丽亚,我的确是为你才把它买下来的.那时候我就爱你,现在也是一样.这话我非告诉你不可.那会儿乔治把我带到你家里,要我认认他的未婚妻,大概我一看见你就爱上了你.你还是个小姑娘,穿了白衣服,头发梳成大圈儿.你还记得吗?你一边下楼一边唱歌,后来咱们还一起上游乐场来着.从那时候起,我心眼儿里就只有一个姑娘,就是你.这十二年来,我可以说没有一时一刻不在惦记着你.到印度之前,我就想来告诉你.可是你心里没有我,我也没有勇气开口.我走开,我留下,你压根儿没有在乎."
    爱米丽亚道:"这是我没有良心."
    都宾不顾一切的说道:"不是没有良心,只是不关心.我也没有什么长处可以叫女人爱我.我知道你的心里.这会儿你心里很难受,因为你发现钢琴是我送的,而不是乔治送的.我也是一时忘情,不然我决不会跟你那么说.所以还是应该我向你道歉.我不该一时糊涂,不该以为多少年来不变的忠心能够叫你同情我."
    爱米丽亚倔强的说道:"这会儿是你的心肠硬呀.不管在这儿还是在天堂上,乔治永远是我的丈夫.除了他,我怎么还能够爱上别的人呢?亲爱的威廉,我到今天还是他的人,就跟你当初看见我的时候一样.你有多少好处,你做人多么慷慨大量,也都是他告诉我的.他叫我把你像哥哥一样待.你对我和我的孩子可不是仁至义尽吗?你是我们最亲近.最忠诚.最仁慈的朋友和保护人.如果你早回来几个月,也许我不用和孩子分手,不用受这些罪.威廉,那一回我伤心得差点儿死了.我祷告,我希望你会回家,可是你不来,结果他们把他抢去了.威廉,他真了不起,是不是?求你还像从前一样照顾他,也照顾我......"她说到这里,哽咽起来,伏在他肩膀上遮着脸.
    少佐伸出手来把她当小孩儿似的搂着,吻着她的头说:"亲爱的爱米丽亚,我不会变的.我只求你心上有我,别的也不想了.要不然的话,你根本不喜欢我了.我只希望常常在你身边,常常看见你."
    爱米丽亚说:"好的,常常来吧."这样,威廉算是得到许可,能够干瞧着不得到手的东西,好像学校里的穷孩子没钱买糕饼,只能看着甜饼小贩的盘子叹气.

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

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CHAPTER LX

Returns to the Genteel World
Good fortune now begins to smile upon Amelia. We are glad to get her out of that low sphere in which she has been creeping hitherto and introduce her into a polite circle--not so grand and refined as that in which our other female friend, Mrs. Becky, has appeared, but still having no small pretensions to gentility and fashion. Jos's friends were all from the three presidencies, and his new house was in the comfortable Anglo-Indian district of which Moira Place is the centre. Minto Square, Great Clive Street, Warren Street, Hastings Street, Ochterlony Place, Plassy Square, Assaye Terrace ("gardens" was a felicitous word not applied to stucco houses with asphalt terraces in front, so early as 1827)--who does not know these respectable abodes of the retired Indian aristocracy, and the quarter which Mr. Wenham calls the Black Hole, in a word? Jos's position in life was not grand enough to entitle him to a house in Moira Place, where none can live but retired Members of Council, and partners of Indian firms (who break, after having settled a hundred thousand pounds on their wives, and retire into comparative penury to a country place and four thousand a year); he engaged a comfortable house of a second- or third-rate order in Gillespie Street, purchasing the carpets, costly mirrors, and handsome and appropriate planned furniture by Seddons from the assignees of Mr. Scape, lately admitted partner into the great Calcutta House of Fogle, Fake, and Cracksman, in which poor Scape had embarked seventy thousand pounds, the earnings of a long and honourable life, taking Fake's place, who retired to a princely park in Sussex (the Fogles have been long out of the firm, and Sir Horace Fogle is about to be raised to the peerage as Baron Bandanna)--admitted, I say, partner into the great agency house of Fogle and Fake two years before it failed for a million and plunged half the Indian public into misery and ruin.
Scape, ruined, honest, and broken-hearted at sixty-five years of age, went out to Calcutta to wind up the affairs of the house. Walter Scape was withdrawn from Eton and put into a merchant's house. Florence Scape, Fanny Scape, and their mother faded away to Boulogne, and will be heard of no more. To be brief, Jos stepped in and bought their carpets and sideboards and admired himself in the mirrors which had reflected their kind handsome faces. The Scape tradesmen, all honourably paid, left their cards, and were eager to supply the new household. The large men in white waistcoats who waited at Scape's dinners, greengrocers, bank-porters, and milkmen in their private capacity, left their addresses and ingratiated themselves with the butler. Mr. Chummy, the chimney-purifier, who had swept the last three families, tried to coax the butler and the boy under him, whose duty it was to go out covered with buttons and with stripes down his trousers, for the protection of Mrs. Amelia whenever she chose to walk abroad.
It was a modest establishment. The butler was Jos's valet also, and never was more drunk than a butler in a small family should be who has a proper regard for his master's wine. Emmy was supplied with a maid, grown on Sir William Dobbin's suburban estate; a good girl, whose kindness and humility disarmed Mrs. Osborne, who was at first terrified at the idea of having a servant to wait upon herself, who did not in the least know how to use one, and who always spoke to domestics with the most reverential politeness. But this maid was very useful in the family, in dexterously tending old Mr. Sedley, who kept almost entirely to his own quarter of the house and never mixed in any of the gay doings which took place there.
Numbers of people came to see Mrs. Osborne. Lady Dobbin and daughters were delighted at her change of fortune, and waited upon her. Miss Osborne from Russell Square came in her grand chariot with the flaming hammer-cloth emblazoned with the Leeds arms. Jos was reported to be immensely rich. Old Osborne had no objection that Georgy should inherit his uncle's property as well as his own. "Damn it, we will make a man of the feller," he said; "and I'll see him in Parliament before I die. You may go and see his mother, Miss O., though I'll never set eyes on her": and Miss Osborne came. Emmy, you may be sure, was very glad to see her, and so be brought nearer to George. That young fellow was allowed to come much more frequently than before to visit his mother. He dined once or twice a week in Gillespie Street and bullied the servants and his relations there, just as he did in Russell Square.
He was always respectful to Major Dobbin, however, and more modest in his demeanour when that gentleman was present. He was a clever lad and afraid of the Major. George could not help admiring his friend's simplicity, his good humour, his various learning quietly imparted, his general love of truth and justice. He had met no such man as yet in the course of his experience, and he had an instinctive liking for a gentleman. He hung fondly by his godfather's side, and it was his delight to walk in the parks and hear Dobbin talk. William told George about his father, about India and Waterloo, about everything but himself. When George was more than usually pert and conceited, the Major made jokes at him, which Mrs. Osborne thought very cruel. One day, taking him to the play, and the boy declining to go into the pit because it was vulgar, the Major took him to the boxes, left him there, and went down himself to the pit. He had not been seated there very long before he felt an arm thrust under his and a dandy little hand in a kid glove squeezing his arm. George had seen the absurdity of his ways and come down from the upper region. A tender laugh of benevolence lighted up old Dobbin's face and eyes as he looked at the repentant little prodigal. He loved the boy, as he did everything that belonged to Amelia. How charmed she was when she heard of this instance of George's goodness! Her eyes looked more kindly on Dobbin than they ever had done. She blushed, he thought, after looking at him so.
Georgy never tired of his praises of the Major to his mother. "I like him, Mamma, because he knows such lots of things; and he ain't like old Veal, who is always bragging and using such long words, don't you know? The chaps call him 'Longtail' at school. I gave him the name; ain't it capital? But Dob reads Latin like English, and French and that; and when we go out together he tells me stories about my Papa, and never about himself; though I heard Colonel Buckler, at Grandpapa's, say that he was one of the bravest officers in the army, and had distinguished himself ever so much. Grandpapa was quite surprised, and said, 'THAT feller! Why, I didn't think he could say Bo to a goose'--but I know he could, couldn't he, Mamma?"
Emmy laughed: she thought it was very likely the Major could do thus much.
If there was a sincere liking between George and the Major, it must be confessed that between the boy and his uncle no great love existed. George had got a way of blowing out his cheeks, and putting his hands in his waistcoat pockets, and saying, "God bless my soul, you don't say so," so exactly after the fashion of old Jos that it was impossible to refrain from laughter. The servants would explode at dinner if the lad, asking for something which wasn't at table, put on that countenance and used that favourite phrase. Even Dobbin would shoot out a sudden peal at the boy's mimicry. If George did not mimic his uncle to his face, it was only by Dobbin's rebukes and Amelia's terrified entreaties that the little scapegrace was induced to desist. And the worthy civilian being haunted by a dim consciousness that the lad thought him an ass, and was inclined to turn him into ridicule, used to be extremely timorous and, of course, doubly pompous and dignified in the presence of Master Georgy. When it was announced that the young gentleman was expected in Gillespie Street to dine with his mother, Mr. Jos commonly found that he had an engagement at the Club. Perhaps nobody was much grieved at his absence. On those days Mr. Sedley would commonly be induced to come out from his place of refuge in the upper stories, and there would be a small family party, whereof Major Dobbin pretty generally formed one. He was the ami de la maison--old Sedley's friend, Emmy's friend, Georgy's friend, Jos's counsel and adviser. "He might almost as well be at Madras for anything WE see of him," Miss Ann Dobbin remarked at Camberwell. Ah! Miss Ann, did it not strike you that it was not YOU whom the Major wanted to marry?
Joseph Sedley then led a life of dignified otiosity such as became a person of his eminence. His very first point, of course, was to become a member of the Oriental Club, where he spent his mornings in the company of his brother Indians, where he dined, or whence he brought home men to dine.
Amelia had to receive and entertain these gentlemen and their ladies. From these she heard how soon Smith would be in Council; how many lacs Jones had brought home with him, how Thomson's House in London had refused the bills drawn by Thomson, Kibobjee, and Co., the Bombay House, and how it was thought the Calcutta House must go too; how very imprudent, to say the least of it, Mrs. Brown's conduct (wife of Brown of the Ahmednuggur Irregulars) had been with young Swankey of the Body Guard, sitting up with him on deck until all hours, and losing themselves as they were riding out at the Cape; how Mrs. Hardyman had had out her thirteen sisters, daughters of a country curate, the Rev: Felix Rabbits, and married eleven of them, seven high up in the service; how Hornby was wild because his wife would stay in Europe, and Trotter was appointed Collector at Ummerapoora. This and similar talk took place at the grand dinners all round. They had the same conversation; the same silver dishes; the same saddles of mutton, boiled turkeys, and entrees. Politics set in a short time after dessert, when the ladies retired upstairs and talked about their complaints and their children.
Mutato nomine, it is all the same. Don't the barristers' wives talk about Circuit? Don't the soldiers' ladies gossip about the Regiment? Don't the clergymen's ladies discourse about Sunday-schools and who takes whose duty? Don't the very greatest ladies of all talk about that small clique of persons to whom they belong? And why should our Indian friends not have their own conversation?--only I admit it is slow for the laymen whose fate it sometimes is to sit by and listen.
Before long Emmy had a visiting-book, and was driving about regularly in a carriage, calling upon Lady Bludyer (wife of Major- General Sir Roger Bludyer, K.C.B., Bengal Army); Lady Huff, wife of Sir G. Huff, Bombay ditto; Mrs. Pice, the Lady of Pice the Director, &c. We are not long in using ourselves to changes in life. That carriage came round to Gillespie Street every day; that buttony boy sprang up and down from the box with Emmy's and Jos's visiting-cards; at stated hours Emmy and the carriage went for Jos to the Club and took him an airing; or, putting old Sedley into the vehicle, she drove the old man round the Regent's Park. The lady's maid and the chariot, the visiting-book and the buttony page, became soon as familiar to Amelia as the humble routine of Brompton. She accommodated herself to one as to the other. If Fate had ordained that she should be a Duchess, she would even have done that duty too. She was voted, in Jos's female society, rather a pleasing young person--not much in her, but pleasing, and that sort of thing.
The men, as usual, liked her artless kindness and simple refined demeanour. The gallant young Indian dandies at home on furlough-- immense dandies these--chained and moustached--driving in tearing cabs, the pillars of the theatres, living at West End hotels-- nevertheless admired Mrs. Osborne, liked to bow to her carriage in the park, and to be admitted to have the honour of paying her a morning visit. Swankey of the Body Guard himself, that dangerous youth, and the greatest buck of all the Indian army now on leave, was one day discovered by Major Dobbin tete-a-tete with Amelia, and describing the sport of pig-sticking to her with great humour and eloquence; and he spoke afterwards of a d--d king's officer that's always hanging about the house--a long, thin, queer-looking, oldish fellow--a dry fellow though, that took the shine out of a man in the talking line.
Had the Major possessed a little more personal vanity he would have been jealous of so dangerous a young buck as that fascinating Bengal Captain. But Dobbin was of too simple and generous a nature to have any doubts about Amelia. He was glad that the young men should pay her respect, and that others should admire her. Ever since her womanhood almost, had she not been persecuted and undervalued? It pleased him to see how kindness bought out her good qualities and how her spirits gently rose with her prosperity. Any person who appreciated her paid a compliment to the Major's good judgement-- that is, if a man may be said to have good judgement who is under the influence of Love's delusion.
After Jos went to Court, which we may be sure he did as a loyal subject of his Sovereign (showing himself in his full court suit at the Club, whither Dobbin came to fetch him in a very shabby old uniform) he who had always been a staunch Loyalist and admirer of George IV, became such a tremendous Tory and pillar of the State that he was for having Amelia to go to a Drawing-room, too. He somehow had worked himself up to believe that he was implicated in the maintenance of the public welfare and that the Sovereign would not be happy unless Jos Sedley and his family appeared to rally round him at St. James's.
Emmy laughed. "Shall I wear the family diamonds, Jos?" she said.
"I wish you would let me buy you some," thought the Major. "I should like to see any that were too good for you."

第六十章    回到上流社会
    爱米丽亚现在交了好运了.多少年来,她总在低三下四的圈子里可怜巴巴的讨生活,能够叫她离开这种环境,踏进上流社会,在我也很高兴.和她来往的人虽然没有咱们另外一个女朋友蓓基太太的相识那么阔气尊贵,可是也着实体面,算得上时髦人.乔斯的朋友都是英属印度三大管区里面结识的;他的新房子也在舒服的英印区域.在这区域以内,莫哀拉广场是中心,其他还有明多广场.大克拉芙街.华伦街.海斯汀街.奥却脱洛内广场.泊拉昔广场.亚赛胡同("某某花园"的确是个好听的名词,可在一八二七年的时候,凡是水泥墙壁.前面有柏油平台的屋子还不用这个名称呢).这一带地方房子很体面,在这儿住家的全是从印度退休回来的阔佬.这个区域很有名声,威纳姆先生管它叫黑洞(在１７６５年,印度酋长苏拉杰.陶拉反抗英国统治者,在加尔各答军营中一间小屋里关禁一百四十六名欧洲人,一夜之后,只剩二十三人活着.后人称那间屋子为"加尔各答的黑洞".).按照乔斯的地位,还不能住在莫哀拉广场,因为总得是殖民地上议会的委员或是印度商行的股东退休之后才有资格在那里住.这些委员和股东通常划出一万镑给他们的太太,自己手里比较的算紧一些了,便退居在这种近乡下的住宅区,靠一年四千镑的进款过活.乔斯在吉尔斯比街弄了一所二三流的房子,相当的舒服.屋里动用的地毯.贵重的镜子.塞登斯设计的又美观又适用的家具,都是从斯该泊先生的财产管理人那里收买下来的.这位斯该泊先生不久以前才加入了福格尔.费克.克拉克门合资经营的赫赫有名的加尔各答商行.可怜的斯该泊一生正直,攒下共有七万镑,全部投资在公司里,自己顶替了费克的位置,因为费克已经退休,住在色塞克斯郡一宅富丽堂皇的别墅里做寓公.福格尔一家的人也老早不在公司里了,而且贺拉斯.福格尔爵士还有机会加爵,指日就是斑大那男爵了.斯该泊在有名的分公司里只有两年,哪知道公司破产,欠了一百万镑的债,从印度回来的人倒有一半给带累着大大的吃苦.
    老实的斯该泊弄得倾家荡产,真是伤心.他年纪已经六十五了,还得到加尔各答去收拾残局.华尔德.斯该泊本来在伊顿读书,现在只能转到一家商行去做事.弗罗伦斯.斯该泊和法尼.斯该泊跟着她们的母亲隐居到波洛涅去,从此音信全无.总之一句话,乔斯凑上来把他们的地毯和食器橱子买下来.屋里的镜子从前照着斯该泊一家和蔼漂亮的脸儿,现在轮到乔斯来顾影自怜了.本来和斯该泊一家有来往的店铺,亏得他们家行为正直,所有的账不曾少收了一文.商人们瞧着有新的人家搬来,都急忙送上名片,希望做他们家的生意.本来在斯该泊家饭桌旁穿了白背心伺候的肥大的听差,还有送牛奶的,卖蔬菜的,银行里的门房,都留下了地名,竭力巴结乔斯的佣人头儿.扫烟囱的契梅先生已经替这房子里三家人家当过差,现在也去讨好佣人头儿和他手下的小听差.这小听差的责任就是在爱米丽亚出门的时候伺候着她.他也穿号衣,上身钉满了扣子,下面是条纹裤子.
    他们的排场不阔.管酒的佣人头儿兼做乔斯的贴身听差.他喝酒很有节制,从来不超过普通小家庭里的佣人应该喝醉的限度,因为他对于主人家的酒是很看重的.爱米雇了一个贴身女佣人,是威廉.都宾爵士郊外的庄地上长大的.这女孩子很好,心地忠厚,又有规矩,叫奥斯本太太完全放心了.爱米起先想到有佣人来伺候她,心里很着急,因为她向来对佣人说话的时候总是恭恭敬敬,不知道应该怎么使唤贴身丫头.这个女佣人在家里很有用,把赛特笠老先生伺候得也很周到.老头儿现在差不多成天在自己的卧室和起坐间里,家里有什么请客作乐的事,他是向来不参加的.
    许多人都来拜访奥斯本太太.都宾夫人和她的女儿们见她转了好运,十分喜欢,特地来看望她.奥斯本小姐坐了华贵的大马车从勒塞尔广场过来,马车夫座位上火黄的布篷上绣着他们里滋地方本家的纹章.外面传说乔斯家财巨万,奥斯本老头儿觉得倘若乔杰承继了自己的财产之外,再添一份舅舅的家当,倒也不错.他说:"哼,咱们得叫这小家伙做个大人物.我死以前还要眼看着他做议员呢.奥小姐,你不妨去望望他的母亲,不过我是决不愿意见她的."所以奥斯本小姐就来了.爱米借此可以接近乔治,当然很愿意见她.小家伙得到特准,常常回来看望母亲.他每星期在吉尔斯比街吃一两次饭,把佣人们呼来喝去,对长辈强梁霸道,和他在勒塞尔广场的时候一样任性.
    对于都宾少佐,他总是很有规矩.只要都宾在旁边,他的态度就收敛些.他是个伶俐的孩子,对于少佐有些怕惧.乔治看见少佐心地纯朴,性情和顺,做人端方正直,虽然有学问,却不说大话,不由得不佩服.他活了这么大,从来没有遇见过这样的人,好在他对于正人君子倒是自然而然的敬爱,时常依依不舍的跟在教父左右;如果能够和都宾一起在公园里散步,听他聊天,他就心满意足.威廉和他说起他的父亲,说起印度和滑铁卢战役,真是无所不谈,只是不扯到自己身上去.有时乔治特别骄傲自大,少佐就说笑话挖苦他,奥斯本太太听得很不受用.有一回,少佐带孩子出去看戏,乔杰不愿意坐在后厅,嫌那地方太寒蠢.少佐便把他领到包厢里,自己转身走到楼下去.他坐下来不多一会儿,发觉有人挽住他的胳膊,看见一只戴羊皮手套的漂亮小手在拉他.原来乔治明白过来了,他觉得自己的行为荒谬可笑,就从楼上走下来.都宾瞧着那爱挥霍的小爷已经悔过,喜欢得眼睛放光,脸上露出慈爱的笑容来.他很爱乔治;凡是属于爱米丽亚的一切他没有不喜欢的.做母亲的听得乔治那么懂事,好不喜欢!她瞧着都宾,眼色非常和蔼,是以前向来没有的.他好像觉得她对自己那么端相过之后,还脸红来着.
    乔杰常常在母亲面前夸耀少佐的好处,称赞的话说也说不厌."我真喜欢他,妈妈.他知道的东西多极了.他又不像维尔那样,老是吹牛,老是用长字眼.你懂这意思吗?在学校里大家都叫他'长尾巴,.这诨名儿是我想出来的,你说可好不好?都宾看拉丁文的书就像看英文书那么容易.他还懂法文什么的.我们一块儿出去的时候他只讲爸爸的事,从来不说自己.可是我在爷爷那儿听得勃克勒上校说他是军队里数一数二的勇将,在战场上出人头地的厉害.爷爷奇怪的了不得.他说:'那家伙吗?我一向以为他胆子小的看见了一头鹅都不敢哼一声儿.,可是我知道他敢的,你说怎么样,妈妈?"
    爱米笑起来,说她觉得少佐这点儿胆子总有的.
    乔治和少佐感情十分融洽,可是说句实话,和他舅舅却不怎么好.乔治常常鼓起腮帮子,把手在背心袋里一插,说:"求老天爷保佑,不信真有这事!"那表情和乔斯一模一样,看见的人都忍不住好笑.碰到吃饭的时候没有他要吃的菜,他就摆出这副嘴脸,把乔斯的口头禅重复一遍,引得佣人们哈哈大笑.甚至于连都宾看见他模仿舅舅,也忍不住放声笑出来.全亏都宾呵责着,爱米丽亚急得一个劲儿的哀求着,小混蛋才算没有当着舅舅模仿他.贤明的印度官儿也恍惚觉得孩子瞧不起他,老是想开他的玩笑,因此心里发虚,在乔杰少爷面前更爱摆架子,做面子.乔斯先生只要听说乔治少爷要上吉尔斯比街来跟着母亲吃饭,总是推托说他在俱乐部另有约会.看来他不在家的时候也没有人想念他.每逢他出去,大家就哄着赛特笠先生,请他从楼上下来和一家人一起吃饭.在这样小规模的家宴上,都宾总有份.他和全家的人都合得来,不但是赛特笠老头儿的朋友,爱米的朋友,乔杰的朋友,又是乔斯的顾问.安痕.都宾在坎白威尔说:"我们从来见不着他,竟好像他还在玛德拉斯."啊,安痕小姐,你难道没想到少佐要娶的并不是你吗?
    乔瑟夫.赛特笠的日子过得真无聊,不过排场却很体面,恰好配得上他这样显赫的身分.在他眼里,最要紧的事就是加入东方俱乐部.从此以后,他早上常去和印度回来的同僚们应酬,有时就在俱乐部吃饭,或是把别的会员请回来款待他们.
    爱米丽亚就得做主妇招待这些先生和他们的妻子.她听到的谈话,都是关于斯密士什么时候做委员,琼斯带回来多少做深红染料的虫胶,伦敦的汤姆生公司怎么拒绝付款给孟买的汤姆生和基包勃奇合营公司,而且听说加尔各答的分公司也要靠不住了.他们又批评亚美特奴加地方非正规军里白朗的妻子,说她和禁卫军里面那个叫斯璜吉的小伙子两个人在甲板上坐到夜深,在好望角出去骑马,索性两个人都不见了;她的行为,就算说得好听些,也太不谨慎.他们又谈到哈迪门太太的父亲原是个乡下的副牧师,叫斐利克斯.拉毕脱;哈迪门太太把她十三个妹妹都接到印度,一共嫁掉了十一个,其中倒有七个嫁了高级官员.此外,又说霍恩贝因为太太一定要住在欧洲,急得坐立不安;脱劳德刚做了恩美拉布拉地方的税官等等.这些人说的话是一样的,用的银器是一样的,吃的羊身上的前胛肉.煮火鸡和小点心,也是一样的.吃完甜点心,接着就谈政治;太太们回到楼上去聊天,谈到自己的孩子和种种不如意的事.
    这种情形,到处都是一样.譬如说,律师太太们谈巡回审判,军人太太们谈联队里的新闻,牧师太太们谈主日学校和某某牧师接了某处的位置,连最阔的阔太太们闲谈的题目也不过是自己小圈子里的人.这么说来,从印度回来的人也应当有他们自己的一套话.不过有时候不相干的外人刚巧也在场,听着这些话就不免要觉得沉闷,这我倒也承认的.
    不久之后,爱米也有了拜客用的记事本,并且常常坐了马车出去应酬.来往的人里面有孟加拉军队里陆军中将罗杰.白鲁迪埃爵士的妻子白鲁迪埃夫人,孟买军队里陆军中将杰.赫甫爵士的妻子赫甫夫人,行政委员派思的妻子派思太太等.我们不需要多少时间就能适应新的环境.马车天天给赶到吉尔斯比街,浑身扣子的小听差从车座上跳下来回上去,拿着爱米和乔斯两人的名片送到各家门口.到了一定的时候,爱米坐了马车到俱乐部去接乔斯出去吸新鲜空气,或是带着父亲到亲王公园去兜风.爱米对于贴身女佣人.马车.访客本子.满身扣子的小听差,不久就和白朗浦顿的日常生活一般习惯了.这两种不同的环境,她都能适应.如果她命中注定要做公爵夫人,一定也做得很像样.和乔斯来往的太太们都夸她讨人喜欢,她们的批评,不外乎说她没多大能耐,不过人还不讨厌.
    男人们呢,像平常一样,很喜欢她忠厚.诚恳而且文雅的态度.许多从印度休假回来的花花公子,穿得十分花哨,挂着表链,留着胡子,住的是西城的旅馆,坐的是快马拉的马车,三日两头上戏院看戏......这些人都对奥斯本太太非常倾倒,每逢她坐了马车在公园里兜风,都来对她鞠躬,或是早上到她家里去拜访她.禁卫军里的斯璜吉原是调情的能手,在好些从印度休假回来的军官里面,算他最风流,这小伙子得空也去看她.有一天都宾少佐发现他正在和爱米丽亚谈心,滔滔汩汩的描写打野猪的情形,口吻非常幽默.斯璜吉后来对人说起爱米丽亚宅子里常有一个讨厌的军官,又高又瘦,样子古怪,年纪不小了,可是相当的滑头,说起话来很动听,开口就把人比了下去.
    倘若都宾少佐稍微再虚荣一些,说不定会跟这位时髦风流的孟加拉上尉吃醋.可是他天生老实,不是那等量浅气小的人,对于爱米丽亚一点儿不起疑心.年轻小伙子对她献殷勤,好些人对她倾倒,那不是很好吗?自从她成人以来,差不多总是给人虐待,遭人小看.如今环境改善了,日子过得顺利,她的长处随着显露出来,心境也渐渐愉快,他看着非常高兴.谁看得起她,也就是看得起少佐的好眼力.不过话又得说回来,一个人在恋爱的时候,就跟着了迷一样,他的眼力是不是靠得住还是个问题.
    乔斯既然是王上忠诚的子民,少不得要进宫觐见一次.他全身礼服,打扮整齐之后,就在俱乐部等都宾去接他,都宾本人却只穿了一身很旧的制服.乔斯本来对于乔治第四十分佩服,愿意赤心忠胆为国王效力.自从进宫朝见过以后,更加成了个彻头彻尾的保守党,至至诚诚的拥护政府.他甚至于撺掇爱米丽亚也进宫一次.不知怎么一来,他心里有了个想头,竟以为国家的前途与他大有关系,而且觉得如果他和他家里的人不到圣詹姆士的宫里去伺候王上,王上一定会不高兴.
    爱米笑道:"乔斯,那么说,进宫的时候我把祖传的金刚钻首饰都戴起来吧."
    少佐想道:"可惜你不肯收,不然让我给你买些首饰多好.无论什么贵重的金刚钻你都配戴."

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峈暄莳苡

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CHAPTER LXI

In Which Two Lights are Put Out
There came a day when the round of decorous pleasures and solemn gaieties in which Mr. Jos Sedley's family indulged was interrupted by an event which happens in most houses. As you ascend the staircase of your house from the drawing towards the bedroom floors, you may have remarked a little arch in the wall right before you, which at once gives light to the stair which leads from the second story to the third (where the nursery and servants' chambers commonly are) and serves for another purpose of utility, of which the undertaker's men can give you a notion. They rest the coffins upon that arch, or pass them through it so as not to disturb in any unseemly manner the cold tenant slumbering within the black ark.
That second-floor arch in a London house, looking up and down the well of the staircase and commanding the main thoroughfare by which the inhabitants are passing; by which cook lurks down before daylight to scour her pots and pans in the kitchen; by which young master stealthily ascends, having left his boots in the hall, and let himself in after dawn from a jolly night at the Club; down which miss comes rustling in fresh ribbons and spreading muslins, brilliant and beautiful, and prepared for conquest and the ball; or Master Tommy slides, preferring the banisters for a mode of conveyance, and disdaining danger and the stair; down which the mother is fondly carried smiling in her strong husband's arms, as he steps steadily step by step, and followed by the monthly nurse, on the day when the medical man has pronounced that the charming patient may go downstairs; up which John lurks to bed, yawning, with a sputtering tallow candle, and to gather up before sunrise the boots which are awaiting him in the passages--that stair, up or down which babies are carried, old people are helped, guests are marshalled to the ball, the parson walks to the christening, the doctor to the sick-room, and the undertaker's men to the upper floor--what a memento of Life, Death, and Vanity it is--that arch and stair--if you choose to consider it, and sit on the landing, looking up and down the well! The doctor will come up to us too for the last time there, my friend in motley. The nurse will look in at the curtains, and you take no notice--and then she will fling open the windows for a little and let in the air. Then they will pull down all the front blinds of the house and live in the back rooms-- then they will send for the lawyer and other men in black, &c. Your comedy and mine will have been played then, and we shall be removed, oh, how far, from the trumpets, and the shouting, and the posture- making. If we are gentlefolks they will put hatchments over our late domicile, with gilt cherubim, and mottoes stating that there is "Quiet in Heaven." Your son will new furnish the house, or perhaps let it, and go into a more modern quarter; your name will be among the "Members Deceased" in the lists of your clubs next year. However much you may be mourned, your widow will like to have her weeds neatly made--the cook will send or come up to ask about dinner--the survivor will soon bear to look at your picture over the mantelpiece, which will presently be deposed from the place of honour, to make way for the portrait of the son who reigns.
Which of the dead are most tenderly and passionately deplored? Those who love the survivors the least, I believe. The death of a child occasions a passion of grief and frantic tears, such as your end, brother reader, will never inspire. The death of an infant which scarce knew you, which a week's absence from you would have caused to forget you, will strike you down more than the loss of your closest friend, or your first-born son--a man grown like yourself, with children of his own. We may be harsh and stern with Judah and Simeon--our love and pity gush out for Benjamin, the little one. And if you are old, as some reader of this may be or shall be old and rich, or old and poor--you may one day be thinking for yourself-- "These people are very good round about me, but they won't grieve too much when I am gone. I am very rich, and they want my inheritance--or very poor, and they are tired of supporting me."
The period of mourning for Mrs. Sedley's death was only just concluded, and Jos scarcely had had time to cast off his black and appear in the splendid waistcoats which he loved, when it became evident to those about Mr. Sedley that another event was at hand, and that the old man was about to go seek for his wife in the dark land whither she had preceded him. "The state of my father's health," Jos Sedley solemnly remarked at the Club, "prevents me from giving any LARGE parties this season: but if you will come in quietly at half-past six, Chutney, my boy, and fake a homely dinner with one or two of the old set--I shall be always glad to see you." So Jos and his acquaintances dined and drank their claret among themselves in silence, whilst the sands of life were running out in the old man's glass upstairs. The velvet-footed butler brought them their wine, and they composed themselves to a rubber after dinner, at which Major Dobbin would sometimes come and take a hand; and Mrs. Osborne would occasionally descend, when her patient above was settled for the night, and had commenced one of those lightly troubled slumbers which visit the pillow of old age.
The old man clung to his daughter during this sickness. He would take his broths and medicines from scarcely any other hand. To tend him became almost the sole business of her life. Her bed was placed close by the door which opened into his chamber, and she was alive at the slightest noise or disturbance from the couch of the querulous invalid. Though, to do him justice, he lay awake many an hour, silent and without stirring, unwilling to awaken his kind and vigilant nurse.
He loved his daughter with more fondness now, perhaps, than ever he had done since the days of her childhood. In the discharge of gentle offices and kind filial duties, this simple creature shone most especially. "She walks into the room as silently as a sunbeam," Mr. Dobbin thought as he saw her passing in and out from her father's room, a cheerful sweetness lighting up her face as she moved to and fro, graceful and noiseless. When women are brooding over their children, or busied in a sick-room, who has not seen in their faces those sweet angelic beams of love and pity?
A secret feud of some years' standing was thus healed, and with a tacit reconciliation. In these last hours, and touched by her love and goodness, the old man forgot all his grief against her, and wrongs which he and his wife had many a long night debated: how she had given up everything for her boy; how she was careless of her parents in their old age and misfortune, and only thought of the child; how absurdly and foolishly, impiously indeed, she took on when George was removed from her. Old Sedley forgot these charges as he was making up his last account, and did justice to the gentle and uncomplaining little martyr. One night when she stole into his room, she found him awake, when the broken old man made his confession. "Oh, Emmy, I've been thinking we were very unkind and unjust to you," he said and put out his cold and feeble hand to her. She knelt down and prayed by his bedside, as he did too, having still hold of her hand. When our turn comes, friend, may we have such company in our prayers!
Perhaps as he was lying awake then, his life may have passed before him--his early hopeful struggles, his manly successes and prosperity, his downfall in his declining years, and his present helpless condition--no chance of revenge against Fortune, which had had the better of him--neither name nor money to bequeath--a spent- out, bootless life of defeat and disappointment, and the end here! Which, I wonder, brother reader, is the better lot, to die prosperous and famous, or poor and disappointed? To have, and to be forced to yield; or to sink out of life, having played and lost the game? That must be a strange feeling, when a day of our life comes and we say, "To-morrow, success or failure won't matter much, and the sun will rise, and all the myriads of mankind go to their work or their pleasure as usual, but I shall be out of the turmoil."
So there came one morning and sunrise when all the world got up and set about its various works and pleasures, with the exception of old John Sedley, who was not to fight with fortune, or to hope or scheme any more, but to go and take up a quiet and utterly unknown residence in a churchyard at Brompton by the side of his old wife.
Major Dobbin, Jos, and Georgy followed his remains to the grave, in a black cloth coach. Jos came on purpose from the Star and Garter at Richmond, whither he retreated after the deplorable event. He did not care to remain in the house, with the--under the circumstances, you understand. But Emmy stayed and did her duty as usual. She was bowed down by no especial grief, and rather solemn than sorrowful. She prayed that her own end might be as calm and painless, and thought with trust and reverence of the words which she had heard from her father during his illness, indicative of his faith, his resignation, and his future hope.
Yes, I think that will be the better ending of the two, after all. Suppose you are particularly rich and well-to-do and say on that last day, "I am very rich; I am tolerably well known; I have lived all my life in the best society, and thank Heaven, come of a most respectable family. I have served my King and country with honour. I was in Parliament for several years, where, I may say, my speeches were listened to and pretty well received. I don't owe any man a shilling: on the contrary, I lent my old college friend, Jack Lazarus, fifty pounds, for which my executors will not press him. I leave my daughters with ten thousand pounds apiece--very good portions for girls; I bequeath my plate and furniture, my house in Baker Street, with a handsome jointure, to my widow for her life; and my landed property, besides money in the funds, and my cellar of well-selected wine in Baker Street, to my son. I leave twenty pound a year to my valet; and I defy any man after I have gone to find anything against my character." Or suppose, on the other hand, your swan sings quite a different sort of dirge and you say, "I am a poor blighted, disappointed old fellow, and have made an utter failure through life. I was not endowed either with brains or with good fortune, and confess that I have committed a hundred mistakes and blunders. I own to having forgotten my duty many a time. I can't pay what I owe. On my last bed I lie utterly helpless and humble, and I pray forgiveness for my weakness and throw myself, with a contrite heart, at the feet of the Divine Mercy." Which of these two speeches, think you, would be the best oration for your own funeral? Old Sedley made the last; and in that humble frame of mind, and holding by the hand of his daughter, life and disappointment and vanity sank away from under him.
"You see," said old Osborne to George, "what comes of merit, and industry, and judicious speculations, and that. Look at me and my banker's account. Look at your poor Grandfather Sedley and his failure. And yet he was a better man than I was, this day twenty years--a better man, I should say, by ten thousand pound."
Beyond these people and Mr. Clapp's family, who came over from Brompton to pay a visit of condolence, not a single soul alive ever cared a penny piece about old John Sedley, or remembered the existence of such a person.
When old Osborne first heard from his friend Colonel Buckler (as little Georgy had already informed us) how distinguished an officer Major Dobbin was, he exhibited a great deal of scornful incredulity and expressed his surprise how ever such a feller as that should possess either brains or reputation. But he heard of the Major's fame from various members of his society. Sir William Dobbin had a great opinion of his son and narrated many stories illustrative of the Major's learning, valour, and estimation in the world's opinion. Finally, his name appeared in the lists of one or two great parties of the nobility, and this circumstance had a prodigious effect upon the old aristocrat of Russell Square.
The Major's position, as guardian to Georgy, whose possession had been ceded to his grandfather, rendered some meetings between the two gentlemen inevitable; and it was in one of these that old Osborne, a keen man of business, looking into the Major's accounts with his ward and the boy's mother, got a hint, which staggered him very much, and at once pained and pleased him, that it was out of William Dobbin's own pocket that a part of the fund had been supplied upon which the poor widow and the child had subsisted.
When pressed upon the point, Dobbin, who could not tell lies, blushed and stammered a good deal and finally confessed. "The marriage," he said (at which his interlocutor's face grew dark) "was very much my doing. I thought my poor friend had gone so far that retreat from his engagement would have been dishonour to him and death to Mrs. Osborne, and I could do no less, when she was left without resources, than give what money I could spare to maintain her."
"Major D.," Mr. Osborne said, looking hard at him and turning very red too--"you did me a great injury; but give me leave to tell you, sir, you are an honest feller. There's my hand, sir, though I little thought that my flesh and blood was living on you--" and the pair shook hands, with great confusion on Major Dobbin's part, thus found out in his act of charitable hypocrisy.
He strove to soften the old man and reconcile him towards his son's memory. "He was such a noble fellow," he said, "that all of us loved him, and would have done anything for him. I, as a young man in those days, was flattered beyond measure by his preference for me, and was more pleased to be seen in his company than in that of the Commander-in-Chief. I never saw his equal for pluck and daring and all the qualities of a soldier"; and Dobbin told the old father as many stories as he could remember regarding the gallantry and achievements of his son. "And Georgy is so like him," the Major added.
"He's so like him that he makes me tremble sometimes," the grandfather said.
On one or two evenings the Major came to dine with Mr. Osborne (it was during the time of the sickness of Mr. Sedley), and as the two sat together in the evening after dinner, all their talk was about the departed hero. The father boasted about him according to his wont, glorifying himself in recounting his son's feats and gallantry, but his mood was at any rate better and more charitable than that in which he had been disposed until now to regard the poor fellow; and the Christian heart of the kind Major was pleased at these symptoms of returning peace and good-will. On the second evening old Osborne called Dobbin William, just as he used to do at the time when Dobbin and George were boys together, and the honest gentleman was pleased by that mark of reconciliation.
On the next day at breakfast, when Miss Osborne, with the asperity of her age and character, ventured to make some remark reflecting slightingly upon the Major's appearance or behaviour--the master of the house interrupted her. "You'd have been glad enough to git him for yourself, Miss O. But them grapes are sour. Ha! ha! Major William is a fine feller."
"That he is, Grandpapa," said Georgy approvingly; and going up close to the old gentleman, he took a hold of his large grey whiskers, and laughed in his face good-humouredly, and kissed him. And he told the story at night to his mother, who fully agreed with the boy. "Indeed he is," she said. "Your dear father always said so. He is one of the best and most upright of men." Dobbin happened to drop in very soon after this conversation, which made Amelia blush perhaps, and the young scapegrace increased the confusion by telling Dobbin the other part of the story. "I say, Dob," he said, "there's such an uncommon nice girl wants to marry you. She's plenty of tin; she wears a front; and she scolds the servants from morning till night." "Who is it?" asked Dobbin. "It's Aunt O.," the boy answered. "Grandpapa said so. And I say, Dob, how prime it would be to have you for my uncle." Old Sedley's quavering voice from the next room at this moment weakly called for Amelia, and the laughing ended.
That old Osborne's mind was changing was pretty clear. He asked George about his uncle sometimes, and laughed at the boy's imitation of the way in which Jos said "God-bless-my-soul" and gobbled his soup. Then he said, "It's not respectful, sir, of you younkers to be imitating of your relations. Miss O., when you go out adriving to-day, leave my card upon Mr. Sedley, do you hear? There's no quarrel betwigst me and him anyhow."
The card was returned, and Jos and the Major were asked to dinner-- to a dinner the most splendid and stupid that perhaps ever Mr. Osborne gave; every inch of the family plate was exhibited, and the best company was asked. Mr. Sedley took down Miss O. to dinner, and she was very gracious to him; whereas she hardly spoke to the Major, who sat apart from her, and by the side of Mr. Osborne, very timid. Jos said, with great solemnity, it was the best turtle soup he had ever tasted in his life, and asked Mr. Osborne where he got his Madeira.
"It is some of Sedley's wine," whispered the butler to his master. "I've had it a long time, and paid a good figure for it, too," Mr. Osborne said aloud to his guest, and then whispered to his right- hand neighbour how he had got it "at the old chap's sale."
More than once he asked the Major about--about Mrs. George Osborne-- a theme on which the Major could be very eloquent when he chose. He told Mr. Osborne of her sufferings--of her passionate attachment to her husband, whose memory she worshipped still--of the tender and dutiful manner in which she had supported her parents, and given up her boy, when it seemed to her her duty to do so. "You don't know what she endured, sir," said honest Dobbin with a tremor in his voice, "and I hope and trust you will be reconciled to her. If she took your son away from you, she gave hers to you; and however much you loved your George, depend on it, she loved hers ten times more."
"By God, you are a good feller, sir," was all Mr. Osborne said. It had never struck him that the widow would feel any pain at parting from the boy, or that his having a fine fortune could grieve her. A reconciliation was announced as speedy and inevitable, and Amelia's heart already began to beat at the notion of the awful meeting with George's father.
It was never, however, destined to take place. Old Sedley's lingering illness and death supervened, after which a meeting was for some time impossible. That catastrophe and other events may have worked upon Mr. Osborne. He was much shaken of late, and aged, and his mind was working inwardly. He had sent for his lawyers, and probably changed something in his will. The medical man who looked in pronounced him shaky, agitated, and talked of a little blood and the seaside; but he took neither of these remedies.
One day when he should have come down to breakfast, his servant missing him, went into his dressing-room and found him lying at the foot of the dressing-table in a fit. Miss Osborne was apprised; the doctors were sent for; Georgy stopped away from school; the bleeders and cuppers came. Osborne partially regained cognizance, but never could speak again, though he tried dreadfully once or twice, and in four days he died. The doctors went down, and the undertaker's men went up the stairs, and all the shutters were shut towards the garden in Russell Square. Bullock rushed from the City in a hurry. "How much money had he left to that boy? Not half, surely? Surely share and share alike between the three?" It was an agitating moment.
What was it that poor old man tried once or twice in vain to say? I hope it was that he wanted to see Amelia and be reconciled before he left the world to one dear and faithful wife of his son: it was most likely that, for his will showed that the hatred which he had so long cherished had gone out of his heart.
They found in the pocket of his dressing-gown the letter with the great red seal which George had written him from Waterloo. He had looked at the other papers too, relative to his son, for the key of the box in which he kept them was also in his pocket, and it was found the seals and envelopes had been broken--very likely on the night before the seizure--when the butler had taken him tea into his study, and found him reading in the great red family Bible.
When the will was opened, it was found that half the property was left to George, and the remainder between the two sisters. Mr. Bullock to continue, for their joint benefit, the affairs of the commercial house, or to go out, as he thought fit. An annuity of five hundred pounds, chargeable on George's property, was left to his mother, "the widow of my beloved son, George Osborne," who was to resume the guardianship of the boy.
"Major William Dobbin, my beloved son's friend," was appointed executor; "and as out of his kindness and bounty, and with his own private funds, he maintained my grandson and my son's widow, when they were otherwise without means of support" (the testator went on to say) "I hereby thank him heartily for his love and regard for them, and beseech him to accept such a sum as may be sufficient to purchase his commission as a Lieutenant-Colonel, or to be disposed of in any way he may think fit."
When Amelia heard that her father-in-law was reconciled to her, her heart melted, and she was grateful for the fortune left to her. But when she heard how Georgy was restored to her, and knew how and by whom, and how it was William's bounty that supported her in poverty, how it was William who gave her her husband and her son--oh, then she sank on her knees, and prayed for blessings on that constant and kind heart; she bowed down and humbled herself, and kissed the feet, as it were, of that beautiful and generous affection.
And gratitude was all that she had to pay back for such admirable devotion and benefits--only gratitude! If she thought of any other return, the image of George stood up out of the grave and said, "You are mine, and mine only, now and forever."
William knew her feelings: had he not passed his whole life in divining them?
When the nature of Mr. Osborne's will became known to the world, it was edifying to remark how Mrs. George Osborne rose in the estimation of the people forming her circle of acquaintance. The servants of Jos's establishment, who used to question her humble orders and say they would "ask Master" whether or not they could obey, never thought now of that sort of appeal. The cook forgot to sneer at her shabby old gowns (which, indeed, were quite eclipsed by that lady's finery when she was dressed to go to church of a Sunday evening), the others no longer grumbled at the sound of her bell, or delayed to answer that summons. The coachman, who grumbled that his 'osses should be brought out and his carriage made into an hospital for that old feller and Mrs. O., drove her with the utmost alacrity now, and trembling lest he should be superseded by Mr. Osborne's coachman, asked "what them there Russell Square coachmen knew about town, and whether they was fit to sit on a box before a lady?" Jos's friends, male and female, suddenly became interested about Emmy, and cards of condolence multiplied on her hall table. Jos himself, who had looked on her as a good-natured harmless pauper, to whom it was his duty to give victuals and shelter, paid her and the rich little boy, his nephew, the greatest respect--was anxious that she should have change and amusement after her troubles and trials, "poor dear girl"--and began to appear at the breakfast-table, and most particularly to ask how she would like to dispose of the day.
In her capacity of guardian to Georgy, she, with the consent of the Major, her fellow-trustee, begged Miss Osborne to live in the Russell Square house as long as ever she chose to dwell there; but that lady, with thanks, declared that she never could think of remaining alone in that melancholy mansion, and departed in deep mourning to Cheltenham, with a couple of her old domestics. The rest were liberally paid and dismissed, the faithful old butler, whom Mrs. Osborne proposed to retain, resigning and preferring to invest his savings in a public-house, where, let us hope, he was not unprosperous. Miss Osborne not choosing to live in Russell Square, Mrs. Osborne also, after consultation, declined to occupy the gloomy old mansion there. The house was dismantled; the rich furniture and effects, the awful chandeliers and dreary blank mirrors packed away and hidden, the rich rosewood drawing-room suite was muffled in straw, the carpets were rolled up and corded, the small select library of well-bound books was stowed into two wine-chests, and the whole paraphernalia rolled away in several enormous vans to the Pantechnicon, where they were to lie until Georgy's majority. And the great heavy dark plate-chests went off to Messrs. Stumpy and Rowdy, to lie in the cellars of those eminent bankers until the same period should arrive.
One day Emmy, with George in her hand and clad in deep sables, went to visit the deserted mansion which she had not entered since she was a girl. The place in front was littered with straw where the vans had been laden and rolled off. They went into the great blank rooms, the walls of which bore the marks where the pictures and mirrors had hung. Then they went up the great blank stone staircases into the upper rooms, into that where grandpapa died, as George said in a whisper, and then higher still into George's own room. The boy was still clinging by her side, but she thought of another besides him. She knew that it had been his father's room as well as his own.
She went up to one of the open windows (one of those at which she used to gaze with a sick heart when the child was first taken from her), and thence as she looked out she could see, over the trees of Russell Square, the old house in which she herself was born, and where she had passed so many happy days of sacred youth. They all came back to her, the pleasant holidays, the kind faces, the careless, joyful past times, and the long pains and trials that had since cast her down. She thought of these and of the man who had been her constant protector, her good genius, her sole benefactor, her tender and generous friend.
"Look here, Mother," said Georgy, "here's a G.O. scratched on the glass with a diamond, I never saw it before, I never did it."
"It was your father's room long before you were born, George," she said, and she blushed as she kissed the boy.
She was very silent as they drove back to Richmond, where they had taken a temporary house: where the smiling lawyers used to come bustling over to see her (and we may be sure noted the visit in the bill): and where of course there was a room for Major Dobbin too, who rode over frequently, having much business to transact on behalf of his little ward.
Georgy at this time was removed from Mr. Veal's on an unlimited holiday, and that gentleman was engaged to prepare an inscription for a fine marble slab, to be placed up in the Foundling under the monument of Captain George Osborne.
The female Bullock, aunt of Georgy, although despoiled by that little monster of one-half of the sum which she expected from her father, nevertheless showed her charitableness of spirit by being reconciled to the mother and the boy. Roehampton is not far from Richmond, and one day the chariot, with the golden bullocks emblazoned on the panels, and the flaccid children within, drove to Amelia's house at Richmond; and the Bullock family made an irruption into the garden, where Amelia was reading a book, Jos was in an arbour placidly dipping strawberries into wine, and the Major in one of his Indian jackets was giving a back to Georgy, who chose to jump over him. He went over his head and bounded into the little advance of Bullocks, with immense black bows in their hats, and huge black sashes, accompanying their mourning mamma.
"He is just of the age for Rosa," the fond parent thought, and glanced towards that dear child, an unwholesome little miss of seven years of age.
"Rosa, go and kiss your dear cousin," Mrs. Frederick said. "Don't you know me, George? I am your aunt."
"I know you well enough," George said; "but I don't like kissing, please"; and he retreated from the obedient caresses of his cousin.
"Take me to your dear mamma, you droll child," Mrs. Frederick said, and those ladies accordingly met, after an absence of more than fifteen years. During Emmy's cares and poverty the other had never once thought about coming to see her, but now that she was decently prosperous in the world, her sister-in-law came to her as a matter of course.
So did numbers more. Our old friend, Miss Swartz, and her husband came thundering over from Hampton Court, with flaming yellow liveries, and was as impetuously fond of Amelia as ever. Miss Swartz would have liked her always if she could have seen her. One must do her that justice. But, que voulez vous?--in this vast town one has not the time to go and seek one's friends; if they drop out of the rank they disappear, and we march on without them. Who is ever missed in Vanity Fair?
But so, in a word, and before the period of grief for Mr. Osborne's death had subsided, Emmy found herself in the centre of a very genteel circle indeed, the members of which could not conceive that anybody belonging to it was not very lucky. There was scarce one of the ladies that hadn't a relation a Peer, though the husband might be a drysalter in the City. Some of the ladies were very blue and well informed, reading Mrs. Somerville and frequenting the Royal Institution; others were severe and Evangelical, and held by Exeter Hall. Emmy, it must be owned, found herself entirely at a loss in the midst of their clavers, and suffered woefully on the one or two occasions on which she was compelled to accept Mrs. Frederick Bullock's hospitalities. That lady persisted in patronizing her and determined most graciously to form her. She found Amelia's milliners for her and regulated her household and her manners. She drove over constantly from Roehampton and entertained her friend with faint fashionable fiddle-faddle and feeble Court slip-slop. Jos liked to hear it, but the Major used to go off growling at the appearance of this woman, with her twopenny gentility. He went to sleep under Frederick Bullock's bald head, after dinner, at one of the banker's best parties (Fred was still anxious that the balance of the Osborne property should be transferred from Stumpy and Rowdy's to them), and whilst Amelia, who did not know Latin, or who wrote the last crack article in the Edinburgh, and did not in the least deplore, or otherwise, Mr. Peel's late extraordinary tergiversation on the fatal Catholic Relief Bill, sat dumb amongst the ladies in the grand drawing-room, looking out upon velvet lawns, trim gravel walks, and glistening hot-houses.
"She seems good-natured but insipid," said Mrs. Rowdy; "that Major seems to be particularly epris."
"She wants ton sadly," said Mrs. Hollyock. "My dear creature, you never will be able to form her."
"She is dreadfully ignorant or indifferent," said Mrs. Glowry with a voice as if from the grave, and a sad shake of the head and turban. "I asked her if she thought that it was in 1836, according to Mr. Jowls, or in 1839, according to Mr. Wapshot, that the Pope was to fall: and she said--'Poor Pope! I hope not--What has he done?'"
"She is my brother's widow, my dear friends," Mrs. Frederick replied, "and as such I think we're all bound to give her every attention and instruction on entering into the world. You may fancy there can be no MERCENARY motives in those whose DISAPPOINTMENTS are well known."
"That poor dear Mrs. Bullock," said Rowdy to Hollyock, as they drove away together--"she is always scheming and managing. She wants Mrs. Osborne's account to be taken from our house to hers--and the way in which she coaxes that boy and makes him sit by that blear-eyed little Rosa is perfectly ridiculous."
"I wish Glowry was choked with her Man of Sin and her Battle of Armageddon," cried the other, and the carriage rolled away over Putney Bridge.
But this sort of society was too cruelly genteel for Emmy, and all jumped for joy when a foreign tour was proposed.

第六十一章    两盏灯灭了
    乔斯.赛特笠先生的家里发生了一件事情......一件家家免不了的平常事,把他家一连串斯文规矩的乐事给打断了.当你从客厅上楼到卧房去的时候,想来总注意到面前的小拱门.它的功用,可以使三楼和四楼中间的楼梯不至于太暗(孩子和佣人的卧房多半在四楼);另外还有一个用处,承揽丧事的人可以告诉你.他们把棺材停放在拱门顶上的楼板上,或是就停放在拱门底下,这样,死者能够静静的在黑色的方盒子里面躺着,不至于受到不应当有的骚扰.
    在伦敦的房子里,三楼的拱门对着必由之路,全家的人都打这儿经过.站在拱门口,上下楼梯就能一目了然.天还没有亮,厨娘就偷偷的打这儿下楼到厨房里去擦洗锅壶盆罐.少爷在俱乐部里闹了一夜,黎明时候自己用钥匙开了大门回家,把靴子留在过道里,蹑手蹑脚的上楼.小姐穿了松松的细纱长裙,系着簇新的缎带,打扮得美丽耀目,衣裙索的走到楼下,准备在跳舞会上颠倒众生,大出风头.汤美小少爷不屑走楼梯,也不怕危险,从楼梯的扶手上一直滑下来.漂亮的少奶奶刚做了母亲,医生第一天许她下楼,由她强壮的丈夫抱着下来.他心里怪疼老婆,一步一步慢慢的往下走;她脸上笑眯眯的,后面还跟着月子里伺候她的看护.到晚上,约翰拿着必剥必剥爆着的蜡烛轻轻上楼睡觉,疲倦得直打呵欠.太阳还没升起来,他又下楼把搁在各个房门口的鞋子收去擦抹干净.小孩儿给抱上抱下,老头儿老太太给扶上扶下,客人们给领进跳舞厅,牧师给小孩子施洗礼,医生去看病,办丧事的到楼上安排杂事,都得经过这儿.这拱门和楼梯是最能发人深省的;如果你坐在这儿,上上下下望一望,定神想一想,自然会想到生命和死亡,感叹人生的空幻.穿五彩衣的朋友啊(指丑角.也泛指一切世人.),医生最后一次来给你看病的时候也从这楼梯上来.看护揭开帐子往里瞧,你也不理会,她就打开窗户,让新鲜空气进来.你家里的人关上房子前面的百叶窗,搬到后面的屋子里去住,并且把律师和办丧事的人请到家里.这样,你我的喜剧就算演完了,从此和喧哗热闹,装腔做势的世界远远隔离了.如果你是有身分的人,你家大门上就钉上报丧板,上面画着金色的天使,写着"在天国里得到安息".你的儿子把房子重新布置装修,或是把它出租,自己住到比较时髦的地段去.到第二年,你的名字就在俱乐部里"已故会员"的名单上出现.不管你家里的人怎么伤心,你的太太总喜欢把孝服做得整齐,厨娘总得差人上来......或是自己上来,打听吃什么菜.不久以后,你留下的妻儿看着你的画像挂在壁炉架上面不再难过的受不了.再过几时,正中的地位便该让出来给你的儿子,也就是屋里的新主人,挂他的画像了.
    死去的人里面谁最使活着的伤心舍不得呢?我想准是那些最不关心活人的人.家里死了孩子,大人心痛得像摘了心肝,哭得如狂如醉.读者啊,你死了决不会叫人那么悲痛.越是襁褓里的小孩儿,人也认不大清,一星期不见就会忘了你,死去之后,给你的打击越大.哪怕死了你最亲近的朋友,或是你的长大成人,自己有儿有女的大儿子,都不能叫你那么难受.对于犹达和西门,我们也许很严厉,可是看着最小的便雅悯(见《圣经.创世记》第三十五章第十八节.便雅悯是雅各最小的儿子.),不知要怎么疼爱他才好.如果你年纪老了......即使现在不老,将来也总要老......不管你是又老又富或是又老又穷,你总有一天会这么想:"我身边这些人都很好,可是我死后他们不会怎么伤心.我很有钱,他们想得我的财产......"或是,"我没有钱,他们抚养着我,一定觉得讨厌了."
    乔斯给母亲穿孝已经满服,刚刚脱去黑衣服,换上他最喜欢的五颜六色的背心,眼见又有事情来了.家里的人都看得出赛特笠老先生不久便要到黄泉路上去寻找走在他前面的妻子.乔斯.赛特笠在俱乐部正正经经的说道:"近来我父亲的身体不好,我不能大规模请客.可是呢,契脱内,我的孩子,如果你高兴六点半到我家来,跟一两个老朋友静静儿吃一餐便饭,我非常欢迎."垂死的老人躺在楼上,乔斯和他的朋友们便在楼底下静静的吃饭和喝红酒.管酒佣人悄没声儿的踅来踅去,替他们送酒进来.饭后,他们玩玩牌,有的时候都宾跟他们一起玩.奥斯本太太服侍病人睡好之后,偶然也下来坐一会.她总在父亲睡着以后才下来,老头儿跟所有上了年纪的人一样,睡得不大稳,有些儿胡梦颠倒.
    老人生了病之后,更依赖女儿.喝汤吃药的,差不多都要她喂.除了伺候病人之外,她也没有功夫做什么别的事了.她的床铺搁在通父亲卧房的门边,容易发脾气的病人一有什么响动,她就起来.说句公平话,病人不愿意吵醒他又体贴又尽心的看护,往往动都不动,一连静卧好几个钟头.
    他现在很爱女儿,从女儿长大成人以后,做父亲的从来没有这么疼她.在待人和蔼.伺候父亲孝顺一方面,这忠厚的好人比谁都强.她在父亲病房里悄没声儿的进出,样子端庄文雅,脸上甜甜的带着笑容,都宾少佐看了心里想道:"她进来的时候,脚步轻得像一丝太阳光."女人守着自己的孩子,或是在病房里伺候病人,脸上可不都像天使一般的慈爱吗?我想这种表情大家全看见过.
    这样,几年来藏在心里的怨恨无形消灭了;他口里不说,心里却很平静.女儿对他这么孝顺体贴,他在临死之前也就忘记了对她的不满.以前他们老两口子常在夜里埋怨女儿,说她为自己的孩子才肯掏出心来,父母上了年纪,又遭到各种不如意的事,她都不在心上,只有儿子是宝贝,后来乔治跟她分手的当儿,她伤心得发狂一般,真是荒唐糊涂,简直可以说是不敬神明.如今赛特笠老头儿结了一下总账,把心里这些疙瘩都忘记了,对于女儿温和忍耐,自我牺牲的精神才真正服帖.有一晚,她偷偷的走到他的房里,发现他醒着.灰心颓唐的老头儿对她认了错,把冰冷无力的手拉着她说:"唉,爱米,我刚才在想,我们对你很不好,很不公道."她跪在他的床旁边开始祷告,他拉着她的手,跟她一起祷告.朋友,但愿我们临死的时候,也有这么一个同伴陪着我们祈祷!
    在他睁眼躺着的时候,说不定他回想到一辈子的遭遇,早年怎么挣扎,后来怎么成功发达,真是大丈夫得志于时,老来怎么一败涂地,现在又落到这般可怜的结果.命运打败了他,如今再也没有机会向它报复.自己身后没有名,也没有留下钱,一辈子穷愁潦倒,没做过有益的事,如今力气已经使尽,就算完了.我常在想,死的时候,又有名又得意好呢,还是又穷又潦倒好?还是愿意什么都有,到临死不得不撒手呢,还是和命运赌过一场,输给它以后奄奄一息的死去呢?总有一天,我们说:"到明天,成功和失败都没有关系了.太阳照旧升起来,千千万万的人做工作乐,可是一切的喧闹都和我无关了."这种感觉准是非常的古怪.
    有一天早晨,太阳照常上升,大家照常起来,做工的做工,寻欢作乐的寻欢作乐,只有约翰.赛特笠不起身.他不再和命运搏斗,也不再希望,不再计划,从此安安静静的躺在白朗浦顿墓地上他老妻的身旁.他后来的生活,世上的人就不得而知了.
    都宾少佐.乔斯.乔杰坐着一辆蒙黑布的大马车去送丧,眼看着下了葬.乔斯是特地从里却蒙的勋章旅馆赶回来的.自从家里有了丧事,他就溜掉了,他说家里有了一个......你懂吗,在这种情形之下,他不能住在家里.爱米留在家里,照旧做她份内的事.她并不觉得十分难受,她的表情并不是悲伤,只是很严肃而已.她祷告上天,希望自己临死的时候也是这样安静而没有痛苦.她想起父亲病中说的话都显得出他的信仰虔诚,而且顺天应命,对于将来很有希望,使她觉得很安心,也很敬服.
    我想了一想,觉得临死的时候还是这样好.如果你很有钱,日子过得舒服,最后说:"我手里有钱;我的名气也不小.我一辈子和最上等的人物来往,而且,谢天谢地,我的家世是好的.我很光荣的为王上和国家尽过力.我做过好几年议员,我可以说,我在国会里的演说,大家很看重,对我的批评也不错.我没欠过一文钱;不但如此,我还借给我大学时候的旧同学贾克.拉柴勒斯五十镑钱.他还不出来的话,我的遗产管理人也不会去逼他.我留给每个女儿一万镑,可算是很丰厚的嫁妆.我的碗盏器皿.家具.贝克街的房子,还有一笔很可观的遗产,都给我的太太终身使用.我的田产庄地.公债票.贝克街屋子的酒窖里面所有的好酒,都给我儿子.我还给我贴身佣人一年二十镑的年金.我死后看谁能够找得出我一件亏心事!"也许你临死的时候口气完全不同,你说:"我是个穷老头儿,一辈子潦倒,不得意,到处碰壁.我没有脑子,运气也不好;我承认自己一辈子不知做错了多少事.我时常忘了自己该尽的责任,欠的债也还不出.现在我快要死了,我一点办法都没有,只有低头认错.我祷告上天饶恕我的过失.我真心真意的悔过,跪在上帝面前求他对我慈悲."你想一想,愿意在自己的葬礼上说哪一篇话呢?赛特笠老头儿说的是后面的一篇.他低心下气,拉着女儿的手,撇下了生命.失望和虚荣.
    奥斯本老头儿对乔治说:"能干.勤勉.投机得法究竟有什么好处,你现在看见了吧?你瞧瞧我跟我的银行存折.再瞧瞧你那穷酸的外公跟他的失败.可是二十年前他比我强多了.那时候他比我多一万镑钱呢."
    除了上面说的亲友之外,就只有克拉浦家里的人从白朗浦顿出来送了丧.此外谁都不理会约翰.赛特笠,根本不记得世界上有过这么一个人.
    奥斯本老头儿第一回听得他朋友勃克勒上校称扬都宾少佐,觉得不相信.他瞧不起都宾,明白表示像他这么一个人居然有脑子有名声,简直令人纳闷.这件事小乔治早就告诉过我们.可是老头儿后来又常常听见和自己来往的人说起都宾的大名.威廉.都宾爵士非常佩服儿子,时常谈起少佐怎么有学问,怎么勇敢,别人怎么看得起他等等.后来伦敦有过两次贵族出面做主人的大宴会,少佐的名字竟在其中一次宴会的宾客名单上登载出来.这一下,勒塞尔广场的贵人(这是挖苦他的话,因为他只是中产阶级,想和贵族来往而高攀不上.)不由得对他肃然起敬.
    少佐是乔杰的保护人,乔杰的一切既然归祖父经管,他和老头儿少不得要见几次面.老头儿是个精明的生意人,有一回把少佐代乔杰和他母亲记的账目细细的查了一下,查出一件意想不到的秘密,弄得他又高兴又难受.原来寡妇和她孩子靠着过活的资金里面有一部分是少佐自己腰包里掏出来的.
    给他仔细一追问,都宾就把脸绯红了.他不会扯谎,支吾了半天,只好老实承认.他说:"他们结婚实在是我促成的,"(老头儿沉下了脸)"因为我想我可怜的朋友已经订了婚,临时推托逃避,不但坏了他自己的名誉,而且准会送了奥斯本太太的命.后来她没有钱过活,我当然有义务尽我所有拿出来抚养她."
    奥斯本先生的脸也红了.他紧紧的瞅着都宾说道:"都少校,当年是你坑了我.可是,我得直说,你真是个忠厚的好人.喏,我想跟你拉拉手.我没想到自己的骨肉要靠你养活."他们两人握着手,都宾少佐窘得无地自容,没承望自己瞒着人做的好事会给人揭穿.
    他竭力使老人心平气和,想起儿子不再发狠.他说:"他真了不起,我们大家都爱他,愿意给他当差.当年我自己也还年轻,承乔治特别和我好,真觉得受宠若惊.在我,跟乔治在一起比跟总司令在一起还体面.讲到勇气.胆量.所有军人不能缺少的品质,我没有见过比得上他的人."都宾尽他记忆所及,讲了许多乔治怎么勇敢出色的故事给他父亲听,并且说:"小乔杰真像他.
    祖父说:"他跟他那么像,有的时候真让我着急."
    赛特笠先生害病的那一阵子,少佐曾经到奥斯本先生家里吃过一两回晚饭,他们饭后坐着闲谈,说来说去无非关于那死去的英雄.做父亲的照从前一样夸耀儿子,借着讲他的本领和勇气自己吹牛.不过他的心境比以前好,胸襟也比以前宽大,说起那可怜家伙的时候和原来的口气不同了.忠厚的少佐具有基督教徒的精神,看他不念旧恶,觉得非常高兴.到第二个黄昏,奥斯本老头儿管都宾叫威廉,只有在都宾和乔治小时,他才用这种口气说话.老实的都宾知道老头儿不再和自己闹别扭,心里很受用.
    第二天早饭的时候奥斯本小姐也说起都宾来.她本来尖刻,又上了些年纪,一开口就批评他的外表和行为上的缺点.一家之主打断她说:"奥小姐,从前你巴不得嫁给他呢.可惜葡萄是酸的.哈!哈!威廉少佐是个好人."
    乔杰很赞成他的话,说道:"爷爷,他真是好人."说着,他走到祖父旁边,拉着他灰白的大胡子,和颜悦色的笑着吻了他一下子.当晚他就把这件事说给母亲听.爱米丽亚听了合意,说道:"你说的不错.你父亲从前也总是夸他.他的为人是少有的,没有几个人像他一般正直."这话说过不多一会儿,都宾恰巧来了,爱米丽亚脸上便有些不好意思,禁不起那小混蛋再把方才的话向都宾一说,弄得大家都很窘.乔杰说:"我说呀,都宾,有一个了不起的女孩儿想嫁给你.她很有钱,她戴着假刘海,她一天到晚骂佣人."
    都宾问道:"她是谁呢?"
    孩子答道:"就是奥姑母.爷爷那么说来着.都宾呀,你做了我的姑夫多好!"刚在这个当儿,赛特笠颤抖的声音从隔壁传过来,叫爱米丽亚过去,大家才止了笑.
    谁也看得出来,奥斯本老头儿改了主意了.有时他也问起乔杰的舅舅.孩子学着乔斯的样子说:"求老天爷保佑我的灵魂."一面狼吞虎咽的喝汤,老人看得很好笑.他说:"小孩儿不该学长辈的样子,太没规矩了.奥小姐,今天你坐车出去的时候,把我的名片送一张到赛特笠先生那儿去,听见吗?反正我和他没有闹过意见."
    乔斯也把自己的名片送过来,结果他和少佐两人就给请到勒塞尔广场去吃饭.奥斯本先生一辈子请过多少回客,大概数这一回排场最大,也最沉闷.席面上摆着全套金银器皿,请的客人全是最体面的阔佬.赛特笠先生扶着奥斯本小姐下楼.她对他很客气,可是对于少佐却不瞅不睬.少佐离她远远的坐在奥斯本先生旁边,怕羞的不得了.乔斯一本正经的说他一辈子没吃过这么鲜美的甲鱼汤,又问奥斯本先生他的西班牙白酒是哪儿买的?
    佣人头儿轻轻对主人说:"是赛特笠的酒."奥斯本先生大声对客人道:"这酒已经藏了好久了.买来的时候价钱很不小呢."他凑近坐在右手的客人,轻轻告诉他说这些酒还是"那老头儿家拍卖的当儿买来的".
    他有过几次在少佐面前迟迟疑疑的问起乔治.奥斯本太太.关于这个题目,少佐只要在高兴头上,可以滔滔不绝的说许多话.他告诉奥斯本先生她怎么受苦,怎么深切的爱丈夫,而且至今还想念他,把他当神明似的崇拜.他又说她抚养父母怎么体谅孝顺,到后来觉得应该让儿子离开家里,便又毅然决然的牺牲自己.老实的都宾声音抖抖的说道:"您真不知道她受的苦.我希望您跟她和解,我相信您一定肯跟她和解.就算当年她抢了您的儿子,后来她不是也把自己的儿子给了您吗?说句老实话,不管您怎么疼乔治,她疼小乔治的心还要深切十倍."
    奥斯本先生只说了一句:"天知道,你是个好人."他以前从来没有想到寡妇跟她儿子分离的时候会觉得难受,他得了财产怎么反而叫她心痛呢?他宣布要和爱米丽亚有个谅解,这件事已经说定,两边不久就要见面.爱米丽亚为着要和乔治的父亲碰头,觉得害怕,一想起这事就心跳.
    他们两人注定不能见面.先是赛特笠疾病缠绵,接着便忙他的丧事,这件事就给耽搁下来.赛特笠一死,还有些别的原因,大约对于奥斯本先生很有影响.近来他身子有病,增添了老态,自己在心里筹划着什么事.他请了律师回来,大概把遗嘱改动了一下.来看病的医生说他身体衰弱,神经不安,应该放掉些血,再到海边休养一阵子.可是他根本不医治.
    有一天早晨,他到了时候还不下来吃早饭,他的佣人找不着他,走到梳妆室里一看,发现他中风倒在梳妆台旁边,立刻通知奥斯本小姐.他们请了好几个医生,还请了专门放血的人.乔治也没有去上学.奥斯本恢复了一部分知觉,可是不能说话,虽然有一两回他使劲想说.四天之后他就死了.医生从楼上下来,办丧事的从楼下上去.凡是面对勒塞尔广场花园的窗口,所有的百叶窗都关闭起来.白洛克急急忙忙从市中心赶来."他留地那孩子多少钱?不能给他一半吧?当然应该是三份平分?"这一刹那真是紧张.
    可怜的老头儿有一两回想说话而说不出,不知道究竟有什么事情放不下心.我想他当时很想见见爱米丽亚,愿意在自己有口气的时候跟他儿子忠心的妻子言归于好.我的猜测大约不错.从他的遗嘱上就可以看得出来,多少年来藏在心里的怨恨已经冰释了.
    他们在他的晨衣口袋里找着当年乔治从滑铁卢寄回来的信,信口上还有一大块红火漆.其余关于他儿子的文件,他也看过,因为他口袋里还有钥匙,正是收藏这些文件的匣子上的.所有的信封和封口的火漆也都给弄破了.看来中风前一夜他就在翻这些东西.当时佣人头儿替他送茶点到书房里去,看见他正在读家里那本大红《圣经》.
    开读遗嘱之后,发现他把一半财产传给乔治,下剩的给两姊妹平分.为经管她们的财产起见,白洛克先生可以继续经理商行里的事务,如果他不愿意,也可以退出.他又从乔治财产上每年提出五百镑给他母亲,"爱儿乔治.奥斯本的妻子".小乔治也仍旧归她抚养.
    他指定"爱儿的好友威廉.都宾少佐"为遗嘱执行人.遗嘱上说:"他为人忠厚,曾经在我孙儿和儿媳衣食无着的时候加以资助.对于他的好意和关怀,我表示衷心的感谢.我愿将足够捐得中将职位的数目赠与都宾少佐,随他怎么处置."
    爱米丽亚听说公公临死不再怨她,心里早软了,又得了这笔遗产,更加感激.后来她知道乔治仍旧归她抚养;这件事前后有什么经过,由于谁的力量,她也听说了.原来在她贫困的时候,是威廉养活她的.从前给她丈夫的是威廉,现在还她儿子的也是威廉.她双膝跪下,祷告上天保佑那忠诚不变的好心人.他的感情是深远崇高的,她在它面前低下头,承认自己的渺小,觉得只配吻它的脚.
    他这样了不起的忠诚,这样为她尽力,爱米丽亚却只能用感激来报答.除了感激什么也没有!如果她想到用别种方式来酬报都宾,乔治的影子立刻从坟墓里站起来,说:"你是我的,不能属于别人.你现在是我的,将来也只能是我的."
    威廉懂得她的心思.他不是一辈子就在分析她的感情吗?
    奥斯本先生的遗嘱公开之后,和乔治.奥斯本太太来往的人都比以前看得起她,这件事对于咱们倒是个好教训.在以前,乔斯公馆里的佣人凡是听得她有使唤,总不肯依头顺脑,虽然她很客气,他们却说什么先得问问老爷,看这事行得行不得;现在不敢再说这话.厨娘从前常常嗤笑她的旧衣裳,如今也不笑了.说真的,星期天晚上她穿上新衣服上教堂的时候,爱米丽亚的旧衣服比在旁边真是黯然无色.别的佣人听得她打铃不再抱怨,也不故意延宕.马车夫向来不愿意赶着老头儿和奥斯本太太出去呼吸新鲜空气,抱怨说车子又不是医院,现在巴不得替她当差,战战兢兢的生怕自己的饭碗给奥斯本先生的车夫夺去.他说:"勒塞尔广场的马车夫怎么会熟悉这边的街道?他们怎么配坐在有身分的太太前面赶车子?"乔斯的朋友们,不论男的女的,一下子都对爱米关心起来,写的慰问信把过道里的桌子堆得满满的.乔斯向来把她当个好脾气.没心眼的叫化子,自己得给她吃,供她住,现在对于妹妹和有钱的小外甥十二分尊敬.他很关心她的身体,说她经过这么些磨难苦恼,应该换换环境,出去乐一下.他管她叫"可怜的好姑娘",特意每天到楼下来吃早饭,问她哪天愿意怎么消遣.
    爱米拿乔治保护人的资格,求得另外一个保护人都宾的同意,请奥斯本小姐仍旧住在勒塞尔广场的屋子里,随她愿意住几时就住几时.奥斯本小姐感谢她的好意,可是说她再也不愿意一个人住在这样阴森森的大房子里面.她带着一两个老家人,穿了一身重孝,到契尔顿纳姆去住.其余的佣人都得了丰厚的工资,给打发掉了.奥斯本太太本来预备把忠心的佣人头儿留下来使唤,可是老佣人辞谢了.他宁可把历年积蓄开个酒店.希望他买卖顺利!奥斯本小姐不要住在勒塞尔广场,奥斯本太太和大家商量了一下,也不高兴往在这么凄惨的房子里.结果他们把大房子出空;富丽的家具什物,叫人一看就害怕的大烛台,样子怪凄凉的镜子(里面也照不见什么东西),都给捆起来藏过一边.客厅里一套讲究的花梨木家具用干草包好;地毯卷起来用绳子捆紧;另有一套精装的书籍,数目不多而选得很精,都理在两只酒箱里.所有的东西装了几大车运到堆栈里去,直要到乔治成年之后再拿出来.还有几只笨重的深颜色箱子,搁满了器皿碗盏,给运到有名的斯顿毕和罗迪合营银行的地窖里,也要到那时才拿出来.
    一天,爱米浑身重孝,拉着乔治一同到那没人居住的屋子里去巡视一下.自从她长大成人之后,还没有进去过呢.屋子前面刚有货车来装过东西,满地都是干草屑.他们走进一间间空无一物的大房间,看见墙上本来挂肖像和镜子的地方还留着痕迹.然后他们由空落落的大石头楼梯上去,看看楼上的屋子.有一间,乔治轻轻的告诉妈妈说,就是爷爷死在里头的.此后又上一层楼,到了乔治自己的屋里.爱米手里牵着孩子,心里却在想另外一个人.她知道这卧房不但是小乔治的,从前还是他父亲的.
    她走到敞开的窗户旁边......当初孩子刚离开她的时候,她时常向着这些窗户张望,心里说不出的难过.从窗口望出去,越过勒塞尔广场上的树顶,就可以看见自己从前的老房子.她在那儿出生,也在那儿过了神圣的童年,享过好几年福.她回想到快乐的假期,慈爱的脸儿,无忧无虑的好时光,还想起以后一大截艰难困顿.把她磨折得抬不起头来的苦日子.她想到过去的一切,又想到她的始终如一的保护人,她唯一的恩人,她的守护天使,她的温厚慷慨的好朋友.
    乔杰说:"瞧这儿,谁用金刚钻在玻璃上刻了乔.奥两个字.我以前一直没有看见.这不是我刻的."
    "乔治,这间屋子本来是你爸爸住的,那时离你出生的时候还远呢."她一面吻着孩子,一面红了脸.
    他们坐车子回里却蒙的时候,她一路没有说话.她在里却蒙暂时租了一所房子,律师们笑容满面,常到这里来找她,一忽儿出一忽儿进,每次的手续费当然都记在账上.屋子里少不得给都宾少佐留了一间房;他得给他的被保护人办许多事情,常常骑马到他们家里来.
    那时乔杰已经从维尔先生的学校里出来,度着无尽期的长假.那位先生呢,正在写一篇墓志铭,准备刻在漂亮的大理石碑上,将来安在孤儿教堂里乔治.奥斯本上尉的纪念碑底下.
    白洛克的女人,也就是乔治的姑妈,做人很大方.她预计得到的遗产虽然给那小鬼抢去了一半,她倒不记恨,反而跟嫂子和侄儿言归于好.罗汉泊顿离开里却蒙并不远,有一天,白洛克家的马车到里却蒙爱米丽亚的家里来;车身上画着金牛,车里面坐着萎黄的孩子,一家子都拥到爱米的花园里来.爱米丽亚正在看书;乔斯坐在凉亭里,静静的把草莓浸着酒吃;少佐穿了印度短装,躬着背,让乔治玩跳田鸡.他跳过少佐的头,一直冲到白洛克家的一群孩子前面.这些孩子帽子上一个个大黑蝴蝶结,腰里系着宽宽的黑带,跟着穿孝的妈妈一起走进来."按他的年龄,刚配得上罗莎,"痴心的妈妈想着,向宝贝的女儿瞧了一眼.小姑娘今年七岁,长得很瘦弱.
    弗莱特立克太太说:"罗莎,吻吻你亲爱的表哥去.你认得我吗,乔治?我是你姑妈."
    乔治道:"我怎么会不认得.对不住,我不爱人家吻我."他看见表妹乖乖的走上前来吻他,连忙躲开.
    弗莱特立克太太说道:"你这孩子多滑稽,领我到你亲爱的妈妈那儿去."这两位太太相别十五年,现在重逢了.爱米艰难困苦的时候,她的小姑从来没有想到要来看望她,现在她日子过得很顺利,小姑就来认亲,觉得这是理所当然的事.
    还有许多别的人也来拜访她.咱们的老朋友施瓦滋小姐和她的丈夫从汉泊顿广场坐了马车轰隆隆的赶来,跟班马夫们都穿了黄烁烁的号衣.她还像从前一般热心热肠的喜欢爱米丽亚.说句公平话,如果她能够常常和爱米丽亚见面,倒未必会变心.可是叫她有什么法子呢?在这么一个大城市里,谁有时候去找老朋友呢?如果他们掉了队,当然就不见了.我们也顾不得多少,总得照样往前走去.在名利场上,少了个把人有谁注意呢?
    总而言之,奥斯本先生死后大家还没有伤完心,许多有身分的人已经忙着来结交爱米丽亚.他们相与的个个福星高照,没有一个走背运.这些太太嫁的丈夫不过是市中心的咸货商人之类,不过差不多每位都有个把贵族亲戚.有些太太本身就很有贵族气派,见闻也广,不但看索莫维尔太太(索莫维尔太太(Ｍｒｓ．Ｍａｒｙ　Ｓｏｍｅｒｖｉｌｌｅ,１７８０—１８７２),女天文学家,曾写过好几种科学论文.)的著作,还常到皇家学院去走走.有些太太生活谨严,都是福音教徒,经常到爱克塞脱教堂去做礼拜.说句实话,爱米听着她们说话,不知怎么搭讪才好.有一两回,她推辞不脱,只得到弗莱特立克.白洛克太太家里去作客;觉得苦恼极了.白洛克太太一定要提拔她.承她好意,决定要教育爱米.她给爱米丽亚找裁缝,理家事,还改正她的仪态.她不断的坐马车从罗汉泊顿过来,跟她朋友闲谈时髦场上和宫廷里的琐琐屑屑,都是些最无聊最浅薄的杂碎.乔斯爱听这一套,可是少佐一看见这女人走来卖弄她那些不值钱的高雅,就咕哝着躲到别处去.他在弗莱特立克.白洛克最讲究的筵席上吃完了饭,竟对着这位银行家的秃顶睡起觉来(弗莱特仍旧急煎煎的盼望能把奥斯本家里的财产从斯顿毕和罗迪合营银行转到他自己银行里去).爱米丽亚不懂拉丁文,也不知道《爱丁堡杂志》上最近一篇出色的文章是谁的作品;大家谈起最近那岂有此理的救济天主教徒的议案,说是比尔首相的态度出尔反尔,叫人奇怪,她听了这事也没有一句批评.白洛克家的客厅布置的非常豪华,前面望出去就是丝绒一般的草地,整齐的石子路,发亮的花房.爱米坐在客厅里,夹在一群太太中间,一句话也说不出.
    罗迪太太说:"她看上去脾气很好,可是没什么道理.那个少佐似乎对她十分有意."
    霍莉姚克太太说:"她一点风味儿都没有.亲爱的,我看你教不好她的."
    格劳笠太太的声音仿佛从坟墓里出来,她摇一摇裹着头巾的头说道:"她真是无知无识得可怕,也许她对于一切都不关心.我问她说,按照乔治尔先生的说法,教皇在一八三六年要下台,可是活泊夏脱先生又说是一八三九年,不知道她的意见是什么.她回答说:'可怜的教皇!我希望他不下台,他干了什么坏事了?,"
    弗莱特立克太太答道:"亲爱的朋友们,她是我的嫂子,又守了寡,因此我觉得我们应该在她踏进上流社会的时候尽量照顾她,教导她.虽然大家都知道这一回我们很失望,可是我帮助她的动机可不是贪图什么好处."
    罗迪和霍莉姚克一同坐车离开的时候,罗迪说:"可怜那亲爱的白洛克太太!她老是耍手段.她要想把奥斯本太太的存款从我们银行里抢到她家的银行里去.她甜言蜜语的哄着那男孩子,叫他坐在她那烂眼睛的罗莎旁边,真可笑!"
    霍莉姚克太太嚷道:"格劳笠一天到晚说什么有罪的人啦,世界末日善恶决战啦,但愿她一口气闷死!"说着,马车走过了泊脱内桥.
    这样的人太高尚了,爱米跟她们合不来.家里有人提议到国外去游历,其余的人都高兴得跳起来.

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

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CHAPTER LXII

Am Rhein
The above everyday events had occurred, and a few weeks had passed, when on one fine morning, Parliament being over, the summer advanced, and all the good company in London about to quit that city for their annual tour in search of pleasure or health, the Batavier steamboat left the Tower-stairs laden with a goodly company of English fugitives. The quarter-deck awnings were up, and the benches and gangways crowded with scores of rosy children, bustling nursemaids; ladies in the prettiest pink bonnets and summer dresses; gentlemen in travelling caps and linen-jackets, whose mustachios had just begun to sprout for the ensuing tour; and stout trim old veterans with starched neckcloths and neat-brushed hats, such as have invaded Europe any time since the conclusion of the war, and carry the national Goddem into every city of the Continent. The congregation of hat-boxes, and Bramah desks, and dressing-cases was prodigious. There were jaunty young Cambridge-men travelling with their tutor, and going for a reading excursion to Nonnenwerth or Konigswinter; there were Irish gentlemen, with the most dashing whiskers and jewellery, talking about horses incessantly, and prodigiously polite to the young ladies on board, whom, on the contrary, the Cambridge lads and their pale-faced tutor avoided with maiden coyness; there were old Pall Mall loungers bound for Ems and Wiesbaden and a course of waters to clear off the dinners of the season, and a little roulette and trente-et-quarante to keep the excitement going; there was old Methuselah, who had married his young wife, with Captain Papillon of the Guards holding her parasol and guide-books; there was young May who was carrying off his bride on a pleasure tour (Mrs. Winter that was, and who had been at school with May's grandmother); there was Sir John and my Lady with a dozen children, and corresponding nursemaids; and the great grandee Bareacres family that sat by themselves near the wheel, stared at everybody, and spoke to no one. Their carriages, emblazoned with coronets and heaped with shining imperials, were on the foredeck, locked in with a dozen more such vehicles: it was difficult to pass in and out amongst them; and the poor inmates of the fore-cabin had scarcely any space for locomotion. These consisted of a few magnificently attired gentlemen from Houndsditch, who brought their own provisions, and could have bought half the gay people in the grand saloon; a few honest fellows with mustachios and portfolios, who set to sketching before they had been half an hour on board; one or two French femmes de chambre who began to be dreadfully ill by the time the boat had passed Greenwich; a groom or two who lounged in the neighbourhood of the horse-boxes under their charge, or leaned over the side by the paddle-wheels, and talked about who was good for the Leger, and what they stood to win or lose for the Goodwood cup.
All the couriers, when they had done plunging about the ship and had settled their various masters in the cabins or on the deck, congregated together and began to chatter and smoke; the Hebrew gentlemen joining them and looking at the carriages. There was Sir John's great carriage that would hold thirteen people; my Lord Methuselah's carriage, my Lord Bareacres' chariot, britzska, and fourgon, that anybody might pay for who liked. It was a wonder how my Lord got the ready money to pay for the expenses of the journey. The Hebrew gentlemen knew how he got it. They knew what money his Lordship had in his pocket at that instant, and what interest he paid for it, and who gave it him. Finally there was a very neat, handsome travelling carriage, about which the gentlemen speculated.
"A qui cette voiture la?" said one gentleman-courier with a large morocco money-bag and ear-rings to another with ear-rings and a large morocco money-bag.
"C'est a Kirsch je bense--je l'ai vu toute a l'heure--qui brenoit des sangviches dans la voiture," said the courier in a fine German French.
Kirsch emerging presently from the neighbourhood of the hold, where he had been bellowing instructions intermingled with polyglot oaths to the ship's men engaged in secreting the passengers' luggage, came to give an account of himself to his brother interpreters. He informed them that the carriage belonged to a Nabob from Calcutta and Jamaica enormously rich, and with whom he was engaged to travel; and at this moment a young gentleman who had been warned off the bridge between the paddle-boxes, and who had dropped thence on to the roof of Lord Methuselah's carriage, from which he made his way over other carriages and imperials until he had clambered on to his own, descended thence and through the window into the body of the carriage, to the applause of the couriers looking on.
"Nous allons avoir une belle traversee, Monsieur George," said the courier with a grin, as he lifted his gold-laced cap.
"D--- your French," said the young gentleman, "where's the biscuits, ay?" Whereupon Kirsch answered him in the English language or in such an imitation of it as he could command--for though he was familiar with all languages, Mr. Kirsch was not acquainted with a single one, and spoke all with indifferent volubility and incorrectness.
The imperious young gentleman who gobbled the biscuits (and indeed it was time to refresh himself, for he had breakfasted at Richmond full three hours before) was our young friend George Osborne. Uncle Jos and his mamma were on the quarter-deck with a gentleman of whom they used to see a good deal, and the four were about to make a summer tour.
Jos was seated at that moment on deck under the awning, and pretty nearly opposite to the Earl of Bareacres and his family, whose proceedings absorbed the Bengalee almost entirely. Both the noble couple looked rather younger than in the eventful year '15, when Jos remembered to have seen them at Brussels (indeed, he always gave out in India that he was intimately acquainted with them). Lady Bareacres' hair, which was then dark, was now a beautiful golden auburn, whereas Lord Bareacres' whiskers, formerly red, were at present of a rich black with purple and green reflections in the light. But changed as they were, the movements of the noble pair occupied Jos's mind entirely. The presence of a Lord fascinated him, and he could look at nothing else.
"Those people seem to interest you a good deal," said Dobbin, laughing and watching him. Amelia too laughed. She was in a straw bonnet with black ribbons, and otherwise dressed in mourning, but the little bustle and holiday of the journey pleased and excited her, and she looked particularly happy.
"What a heavenly day!" Emmy said and added, with great originality, "I hope we shall have a calm passage."
Jos waved his hand, scornfully glancing at the same time under his eyelids at the great folks opposite. "If you had made the voyages we have," he said, "you wouldn't much care about the weather." But nevertheless, traveller as he was, he passed the night direfully sick in his carriage, where his courier tended him with brandy-and- water and every luxury.
In due time this happy party landed at the quays of Rotterdam, whence they were transported by another steamer to the city of Cologne. Here the carriage and the family took to the shore, and Jos was not a little gratified to see his arrival announced in the Cologne newspapers as "Herr Graf Lord von Sedley nebst Begleitung aus London." He had his court dress with him; he had insisted that Dobbin should bring his regimental paraphernalia; he announced that it was his intention to be presented at some foreign courts, and pay his respects to the Sovereigns of the countries which he honoured with a visit.
Wherever the party stopped, and an opportunity was offered, Mr. Jos left his own card and the Major's upon "Our Minister." It was with great difficulty that he could be restrained from putting on his cocked hat and tights to wait upon the English consul at the Free City of Judenstadt, when that hospitable functionary asked our travellers to dinner. He kept a journal of his voyage and noted elaborately the defects or excellences of the various inns at which he put up, and of the wines and dishes of which he partook.
As for Emmy, she was very happy and pleased. Dobbin used to carry about for her her stool and sketch-book, and admired the drawings of the good-natured little artist as they never had been admired before. She sat upon steamers' decks and drew crags and castles, or she mounted upon donkeys and ascended to ancient robber-towers, attended by her two aides-de-camp, Georgy and Dobbin. She laughed, and the Major did too, at his droll figure on donkey-back, with his long legs touching the ground. He was the interpreter for the party; having a good military knowledge of the German language, and he and the delighted George fought the campaigns of the Rhine and the Palatinate. In the course of a few weeks, and by assiduously conversing with Herr Kirsch on the box of the carriage, Georgy made prodigious advance in the knowledge of High Dutch, and could talk to hotel waiters and postilions in a way that charmed his mother and amused his guardian.
Mr. Jos did not much engage in the afternoon excursions of his fellow-travellers. He slept a good deal after dinner, or basked in the arbours of the pleasant inn-gardens. Pleasant Rhine gardens! Fair scenes of peace and sunshine--noble purple mountains, whose crests are reflected in the magnificent stream--who has ever seen you that has not a grateful memory of those scenes of friendly repose and beauty? To lay down the pen and even to think of that beautiful Rhineland makes one happy. At this time of summer evening, the cows are trooping down from the hills, lowing and with their bells tinkling, to the old town, with its old moats, and gates, and spires, and chestnut-trees, with long blue shadows stretching over the grass; the sky and the river below flame in- crimson and gold; and the moon is already out, looking pale towards the sunset. The sun sinks behind the great castle-crested mountains, the night falls suddenly, the river grows darker and darker, lights quiver in it from the windows in the old ramparts, and twinkle peacefully in the villages under the hills on the opposite shore.
So Jos used to go to sleep a good deal with his bandanna over his face and be very comfortable, and read all the English news, and every word of Galignani's admirable newspaper (may the blessings of all Englishmen who have ever been abroad rest on the founders and proprietors of that piratical print! ) and whether he woke or slept, his friends did not very much miss him. Yes, they were very happy. They went to the opera often of evenings--to those snug, unassuming, dear old operas in the German towns, where the noblesse sits and cries, and knits stockings on the one side, over against the bourgeoisie on the other; and His Transparency the Duke and his Transparent family, all very fat and good-natured, come and occupy the great box in the middle; and the pit is full of the most elegant slim-waisted officers with straw-coloured mustachios, and twopence a day on full pay. Here it was that Emmy found her delight, and was introduced for the first time to the wonders of Mozart and Cimarosa. The Major's musical taste has been before alluded to, and his performances on the flute commended. But perhaps the chief pleasure he had in these operas was in watching Emmy's rapture while listening to them. A new world of love and beauty broke upon her when she was introduced to those divine compositions; this lady had the keenest and finest sensibility, and how could she be indifferent when she heard Mozart? The tender parts of "Don Juan" awakened in her raptures so exquisite that she would ask herself when she went to say her prayers of a night whether it was not wicked to feel so much delight as that with which "Vedrai Carino" and "Batti Batti" filled her gentle little bosom? But the Major, whom she consulted upon this head, as her theological adviser (and who himself had a pious and reverent soul), said that for his part, every beauty of art or nature made him thankful as well as happy, and that the pleasure to be had in listening to fine music, as in looking at the stars in the sky, or at a beautiful landscape or picture, was a benefit for which we might thank Heaven as sincerely as for any other worldly blessing. And in reply to some faint objections of Mrs. Amelia's (taken from certain theological works like the Washerwoman of Finchley Common and others of that school, with which Mrs. Osborne had been furnished during her life at Brompton) he told her an Eastern fable of the Owl who thought that the sunshine was unbearable for the eyes and that the Nightingale was a most overrated bird. "It is one's nature to sing and the other's to hoot," he said, laughing, "and with such a sweet voice as you have yourself, you must belong to the Bulbul faction."
I like to dwell upon this period of her life and to think that she was cheerful and happy. You see, she has not had too much of that sort of existence as yet, and has not fallen in the way of means to educate her tastes or her intelligence. She has been domineered over hitherto by vulgar intellects. It is the lot of many a woman. And as every one of the dear sex is the rival of the rest of her kind, timidity passes for folly in their charitable judgments; and gentleness for dulness; and silence--which is but timid denial of the unwelcome assertion of ruling folks, and tacit protestantism-- above all, finds no mercy at the hands of the female Inquisition. Thus, my dear and civilized reader, if you and I were to find ourselves this evening in a society of greengrocers, let us say, it is probable that our conversation would not be brilliant; if, on the other hand, a greengrocer should find himself at your refined and polite tea-table, where everybody was saying witty things, and everybody of fashion and repute tearing her friends to pieces in the most delightful manner, it is possible that the stranger would not be very talkative and by no means interesting or interested.
And it must be remembered that this poor lady had never met a gentleman in her life until this present moment. Perhaps these are rarer personages than some of us think for. Which of us can point out many such in his circle--men whose aims are generous, whose truth is constant, and not only constant in its kind but elevated in its degree; whose want of meanness makes them simple; who can look the world honestly in the face with an equal manly sympathy for the great and the small? We all know a hundred whose coats are very well made, and a score who have excellent manners, and one or two happy beings who are what they call in the inner circles, and have shot into the very centre and bull's-eye of the fashion; but of gentlemen how many? Let us take a little scrap of paper and each make out his list.
My friend the Major I write, without any doubt, in mine. He had very long legs, a yellow face, and a slight lisp, which at first was rather ridiculous. But his thoughts were just, his brains were fairly good, his life was honest and pure, and his heart warm and humble. He certainly had very large hands and feet, which the two George Osbornes used to caricature and laugh at; and their jeers and laughter perhaps led poor little Emmy astray as to his worth. But have we not all been misled about our heroes and changed our opinions a hundred times? Emmy, in this happy time, found that hers underwent a very great change in respect of the merits of the Major.
Perhaps it was the happiest time of both their lives, indeed, if they did but know it--and who does? Which of us can point out and say that was the culmination--that was the summit of human joy? But at all events, this couple were very decently contented, and enjoyed as pleasant a summer tour as any pair that left England that year. Georgy was always present at the play, but it was the Major who put Emmy's shawl on after the entertainment; and in the walks and excursions the young lad would be on ahead, and up a tower-stair or a tree, whilst the soberer couple were below, the Major smoking his cigar with great placidity and constancy, whilst Emmy sketched the site or the ruin. It was on this very tour that I, the present writer of a history of which every word is true, had the pleasure to see them first and to make their acquaintance.
It was at the little comfortable Ducal town of Pumpernickel (that very place where Sir Pitt Crawley had been so distinguished as an attache; but that was in early early days, and before the news of the Battle of Austerlitz sent all the English diplomatists in Germany to the right about) that I first saw Colonel Dobbin and his party. They had arrived with the carriage and courier at the Erbprinz Hotel, the best of the town, and the whole party dined at the table d'hote. Everybody remarked the majesty of Jos and the knowing way in which he sipped, or rather sucked, the Johannisberger, which he ordered for dinner. The little boy, too, we observed, had a famous appetite, and consumed schinken, and braten, and kartoffeln, and cranberry jam, and salad, and pudding, and roast fowls, and sweetmeats, with a gallantry that did honour to his nation. After about fifteen dishes, he concluded the repast with dessert, some of which he even carried out of doors, for some young gentlemen at table, amused with his coolness and gallant free- and-easy manner, induced him to pocket a handful of macaroons, which he discussed on his way to the theatre, whither everybody went in the cheery social little German place. The lady in black, the boy's mamma, laughed and blushed, and looked exceedingly pleased and shy as the dinner went on, and at the various feats and instances of espieglerie on the part of her son. The Colonel--for so he became very soon afterwards--I remember joked the boy with a great deal of grave fun, pointing out dishes which he hadn't tried, and entreating him not to baulk his appetite, but to have a second supply of this or that.
It was what they call a gast-rolle night at the Royal Grand Ducal Pumpernickelisch Hof--or Court theatre--and Madame Schroeder Devrient, then in the bloom of her beauty and genius, performed the part of the heroine in the wonderful opera of Fidelio. From our places in the stalls we could see our four friends of the table d'hote in the loge which Schwendler of the Erbprinz kept for his best guests, and I could not help remarking the effect which the magnificent actress and music produced upon Mrs. Osborne, for so we heard the stout gentleman in the mustachios call her. During the astonishing Chorus of the Prisoners, over which the delightful voice of the actress rose and soared in the most ravishing harmony, the English lady's face wore such an expression of wonder and delight that it struck even little Fipps, the blase attache, who drawled out, as he fixed his glass upon her, "Gayd, it really does one good to see a woman caypable of that stayt of excaytement." And in the Prison Scene, where Fidelio, rushing to her husband, cries, "Nichts, nichts, mein Florestan," she fairly lost herself and covered her face with her handkerchief. Every woman in the house was snivelling at the time, but I suppose it was because it was predestined that I was to write this particular lady's memoirs that I remarked her.
The next day they gave another piece of Beethoven, Die Schlacht bei Vittoria. Malbrook is introduced at the beginning of the performance, as indicative of the brisk advance of the French army. Then come drums, trumpets, thunders of artillery, and groans of the dying, and at last, in a grand triumphal swell, "God Save the King" is performed.
There may have been a score of Englishmen in the house, but at the burst of that beloved and well-known music, every one of them, we young fellows in the stalls, Sir John and Lady Bullminster (who had taken a house at Pumpernickel for the education of their nine children), the fat gentleman with the mustachios, the long Major in white duck trousers, and the lady with the little boy upon whom he was so sweet, even Kirsch, the courier in the gallery, stood bolt upright in their places and proclaimed themselves to be members of the dear old British nation. As for Tapeworm, the Charge d'Affaires, he rose up in his box and bowed and simpered, as if he would represent the whole empire. Tapeworm was nephew and heir of old Marshal Tiptoff, who has been introduced in this story as General Tiptoff, just before Waterloo, who was Colonel of the --th regiment in which Major Dobbin served, and who died in this year full of honours, and of an aspic of plovers' eggs; when the regiment was graciously given by his Majesty to Colonel Sir Michael O'Dowd, K.C.B. who had commanded it in many glorious fields.
Tapeworm must have met with Colonel Dobbin at the house of the Colonel's Colonel, the Marshal, for he recognized him on this night at the theatre, and with the utmost condescension, his Majesty's minister came over from his own box and publicly shook hands with his new-found friend.
"Look at that infernal sly-boots of a Tapeworm," Fipps whispered, examining his chief from the stalls. "Wherever there's a pretty woman he always twists himself in." And I wonder what were diplomatists made for but for that?
"Have I the honour of addressing myself to Mrs. Dobbin?" asked the Secretary with a most insinuating grin.
Georgy burst out laughing and said, "By Jove, that was a good 'un." Emmy and the Major blushed: we saw them from the stalls.
"This lady is Mrs. George Osborne," said the Major, "and this is her brother, Mr. Sedley, a distinguished officer of the Bengal Civil Service: permit me to introduce him to your lordship."
My lord nearly sent Jos off his legs with the most fascinating smile. "Are you going to stop in Pumpernickel?" he said. "It is a dull place, but we want some nice people, and we would try and make it SO agreeable to you. Mr.--Ahum--Mrs.--Oho. I shall do myself the honour of calling upon you to-morrow at your inn." And he went away with a Parthian grin and glance which he thought must finish Mrs. Osborne completely.
The performance over, the young fellows lounged about the lobbies, and we saw the society take its departure. The Duchess Dowager went off in her jingling old coach, attended by two faithful and withered old maids of honour, and a little snuffy spindle-shanked gentleman in waiting, in a brown jasey and a green coat covered with orders-- of which the star and the grand yellow cordon of the order of St. Michael of Pumpernickel were most conspicuous. The drums rolled, the guards saluted, and the old carriage drove away.
Then came his Transparency the Duke and Transparent family, with his great officers of state and household. He bowed serenely to everybody. And amid the saluting of the guards and the flaring of the torches of the running footmen, clad in scarlet, the Transparent carriages drove away to the old Ducal schloss, with its towers and pinacles standing on the schlossberg. Everybody in Pumpernickel knew everybody. No sooner was a foreigner seen there than the Minister of Foreign Affairs, or some other great or small officer of state, went round to the Erbprinz and found out the name of the new arrival.
We watched them, too, out of the theatre. Tapeworm had just walked off, enveloped in his cloak, with which his gigantic chasseur was always in attendance, and looking as much as possible like Don Juan. The Prime Minister's lady had just squeezed herself into her sedan, and her daughter, the charming Ida, had put on her calash and clogs; when the English party came out, the boy yawning drearily, the Major taking great pains in keeping the shawl over Mrs. Osborne's head, and Mr. Sedley looking grand, with a crush opera-hat on one side of his head and his hand in the stomach of a voluminous white waistcoat. We took off our hats to our acquaintances of the table d'hote, and the lady, in return, presented us with a little smile and a curtsey, for which everybody might be thankful.
The carriage from the inn, under the superintendence of the bustling Mr. Kirsch, was in waiting to convey the party; but the fat man said he would walk and smoke his cigar on his way homewards, so the other three, with nods and smiles to us, went without Mr. Sedley, Kirsch, with the cigar case, following in his master's wake.
We all walked together and talked to the stout gentleman about the agremens of the place. It was very agreeable for the English. There were shooting-parties and battues; there was a plenty of balls and entertainments at the hospitable Court; the society was generally good; the theatre excellent; and the living cheap.
"And our Minister seems a most delightful and affable person," our new friend said. "With such a representative, and--and a good medical man, I can fancy the place to be most eligible. Good-night, gentlemen." And Jos creaked up the stairs to bedward, followed by Kirsch with a flambeau. We rather hoped that nice-looking woman would be induced to stay some time in the town.

第六十二章    莱茵河上
    上面说的家常琐碎已经过去.又隔了几个星期,国会开过会,夏天也正式来了.伦敦的上流人物都在准备按照每年的惯例出国游历或是将养身体.一天早上,天气晴朗,巴塔维厄号汽船载着一大群出国避暑的英国人离开高塔码头向外驶去.后甲板上张着天幔,甲板当中和长凳上挤满了粹红脸儿的孩子,还有好些管孩子的佣人,也在那里忙忙碌碌的张罗着.太太小姐们穿了夏衣,戴上漂亮的浅红帽子.先生们穿了麻布上装,戴了旅行便帽,开始在留胡子,为的是出国的时候好看些.也有老军人,长得壮大,穿戴得整齐,领巾浆得笔挺,帽子刷得干净;自从战争结束之后,常看见这一类的军人往欧洲去,并且把本国骂人的话儿带到了大陆上每一个城市.帽匣子呀,勃拉马式的书桌呀,箱子呀,在甲板上堆了一大堆.船上还有意气扬扬的剑桥学生,由老师陪着,准备到诺能窝斯或是克尼斯温脱去,一边旅行,一边读书.也有爱尔兰人,留着漂亮的胡子,戴着珠宝首饰,不停的谈论养马打猎,对于同船的年轻女人们非常客气.剑桥的学生们和那苍白的教师恰恰相反,像姑娘们一样腼腆,看见女人就远远躲开.也有向来在帕尔莫尔一带悠闲度日的浮浪子弟,出发到爱姆士和维斯巴登去喝矿水,把一季下来吃的饭菜从肠胃里洗洗干净,同时也来一点儿轮盘赌和纸牌戏,免得生活太沉闷.那边是玛士撒拉老头儿,刚娶了年轻太太,她的阳伞和旅行指南都由禁卫军里的巴比容上尉拿着呢!这边是梅依那个小伙子带着新娘出去旅行.新娘原来叫温德太太,是梅依的祖母的同学.再过去是约翰爵士和爵士夫人,领着十二个孩子,再配上十二个佣人.舵轮旁边坐着的是了不起的贵人贝亚爱格思一家.他们不和众人合群,对人人都瞪着眼端相,可是谁也不理.
    他们的几辆马车在前甲板上,车身上画着王冠,上面堆满了发亮的行李箱,跟其余的十来辆类似的马车锁在一个地方.在马车中间穿出穿进真不是容易的事,可怜那些住在前面房舱里的客人挤得行动都不得自由.这些家伙全是从汉兹迪却来的犹太人.他们衣著光鲜,自己带着口粮;拿他们的资力来说,把头等舱里的时髦人物买一半下来也容易.还有几个老实人,留着胡子,带着公事包,上船不到半个钟头就开始写生.又有一两个法国女佣人,船一过格林威治,她们就晕船晕得不可开交.此外还有一两个马夫;他们只在自己所照管的马房附近闲逛,或是在舵轮边靠着船舷向下看,一面谈论圣里杰大香槟哪匹马能跑第一,对于哥德窝德金杯他们存什么希望.
    所有招待旅客的向导先在船上穿来穿去,把主人们安顿在船舱里和甲板上,然后聚在一起抽烟闲谈.那几个犹太人围着他们,一面端相船上的马车.那儿有约翰爵士的容得下十三个人的大马车,玛土撒拉勋爵的马车,还有贝亚爱格思勋爵的大马车.敞车和法国式小车......只要是肯出钱的,尽管来买.勋爵居然会有现钱出国游览,真令人纳闷.那些犹太人倒知道底细.勋爵手里有几个钱,是谁借给他的,利息多少,他们都很清楚.那边还有一辆又整齐又漂亮的旅行马车.大家都在猜测,不知这是谁的车子.
    一个戴着耳环,拿着大皮钱包的向导对另一个戴耳环拿大皮钱包的同行说:"这辆车是谁的?"
    那一个用德国口音的法文答道:"我想是基希的.我刚才看见他在车里头吃夹肉面包."过了不久,基希从甲板下面上来,他刚才在下面对船上堆藏行李的人大叫大嚷,一面用各种语言咒骂着.这时他上来,就对充当翻译的同行兄弟们报告自己的来踪去迹.他告诉他们说这辆车子属于加尔各答和贾米加那边回来的一位贵人;这位贵人是个大财主,刚雇了他做向导.正在这时,一位小爷出来了,他本来在装置在明轮上部各个木架中间的桥上玩,给人赶了下来,便跳下来掉在玛土撒拉的马车顶上,又跨到别辆车子的行李箱上,一直爬上自己的车顶,从窗口钻到车身里面.向导们在旁边瞧着,都喝起彩来.
    向导脱了金箍帽子,笑嘻嘻的用法文说道:"乔治先生,过海的时候风浪不会大."
    那位小爷答道:"谁叫你说法文?饼干呢?"基希便用英文......反正是他会说的英文......回答他.基希先生虽然各种语言都能说说,可是一种也不精通.说的既不准确,也不怎么流利.
    专横的少爷就是我们小朋友乔治.奥斯本.他狼吞虎咽的吃了饼干,原来早饭还是在里却蒙吃的,足足隔了三个钟头,也该吃点心了.乔斯舅舅和他妈妈在后甲板上,还有一位老朋友陪着.这夏天他们四人准备一起出门游览.
    那时乔斯坐在甲板上的天幕底下,差不多正对着贝亚爱格思伯爵一家的人,全神贯注的瞧着他们的一举一动.这对尊贵的夫妻比在多事的一八一五年,乔斯在布鲁塞尔看见他们的时候反而更加年轻(在印度的时候,乔斯总对人说他和贝亚爱格思是熟朋友).当年贝亚爱格思夫人的头发是深颜色的,现在变得金里带红,十分美丽.贝亚爱格思的胡子从前是红的,现在却成了漆黑的,光照着的时候还发出紫的绿的颜色.两位贵人虽然变了样子,一言一动仍旧能够吸引乔斯,几乎使他心无二用.他给勋爵迷住了,别的都不屑看了.
    都宾瞧着他笑道:"你好象对于这些人很关心似的."爱米丽亚也笑了.她戴了一顶饰黑缎带的草帽,仍旧穿着孝,他们一路上过得热闹有趣,又不必干正经事,所以她兴致勃勃,一脸都是欢天喜地的样子.
    爱米说:"天气多好呀!"并且表示她自己独特的见解,说道:"希望过海的时候没有风浪."
    乔斯很轻蔑的把手一挥,向对面的阔佬偷偷的溜了一眼,说道:"倘若你像我们一样走过长路,就不会在乎天气好坏."不过虽说他是久经风浪的老手,那夜却躺在自己马车里,晕得不可开交.他的向导伺候着,给他喝对水的白兰地,又把船上的各色好东西拿来请他受用.
    不久之后,这一群快乐的人在罗脱达姆码头上岸,换另一只小汽船直到哥罗涅城.全家人马,还有车子,都上了岸,哥罗涅的报纸上登了"赛特笠勋爵携带随从,从伦敦到达此地"的消息,乔斯看得称心满意.他行李里面有上朝用的礼服,还逼着都宾随身携带全套军装.他告诉大家,说他准备到各国的宫廷里去朝见当地的君主,他既然赏脸到那些国家去游览,这点儿礼数是不能免的.
    他们不论到了什么地方,只要一有机会,乔斯先生便去向"咱们的公使"致意,把自己的名片和少佐的名片送过去.在主登施达自由市,英国的领事非常好客,请他们去吃饭,乔斯一定要戴礼帽穿礼服,大家好不容易才劝住了.他一路写日记,住过的旅馆有什么短处长处,酒菜滋味好坏,都细细的记载下来.
    爱米非常快活,都宾老是替她拿着写生用的画本子和小凳子,还夸赞她的作品.这好性子的画家以前从来没有这样给人赏识过.她坐在汽船甲板上画岩石和古堡,或是骑了驴子去看古代被强盗占据的堡垒,乔杰和都宾便做她的随从,到处跟着她.少佐骑在驴子背上,两条长腿一直挂到地,样子真滑稽;她瞧着他笑,他自己也笑.他对于军事德文知道得不少,便当了大家的翻译.他和乔治重演莱茵河之战和巴拉蒂那之战,乔治好不得意.几星期来,乔杰常常坐在马夫座位上,和基希不停的说话,学了许多荷兰话,居然能够和旅馆里的茶房和马夫通话,他母亲得意得很,他的保护人瞧着也觉得有趣.
    他们三人下午出去游耍的时候,乔斯难得跟着一起去.他饭后要睡一大觉;旅馆里都有整齐的花园,有的时候他就在亭子里晒太阳.莱茵河上的花园好不可爱啊!四围的景致清明而恬静,阳光照耀着,青紫色的山峰气势雄伟,峰顶倒映在壮丽的河面上.好一幅亲切.宁静.美丽的风景!见过你的人谁能不留恋呢?我只要放下笔,想一想那漂亮的莱茵地带,心上就觉得愉快.每年到夏天这时分,傍晚的时候,一群群的母牛从小山上下来,地叫唤着,脖子上的小铃儿叮叮当当的响,都回到这古城里面来.那儿有古色古香的城河.城门.尖塔和栗树,日落时分,长长的深蓝的影子落在草地上.天上河里都是一片亮晃晃的金红色.月亮已经升起了,淡淡的庞儿恰好和落日相对.太阳在山顶上的古堡后面沉下去.黑夜忽然降临,河水的颜色越变越深.年深日久的壁垒里从窗口放出灯光,射在河水上闪闪抖动.对岸山脚下的村庄里也有灯火在静静的闪烁.
    乔斯常常把印花手帕盖了脸睡觉,舒服极了.凡是英国的新闻,以及加里涅尼的了不起的报纸上所有的消息,他一字不漏细细的读.(但愿所有出国旅行过的英国人都给这家专事剽窃的报纸的创办人和股东们祝福!)他睡着也好,醒着也好,他的亲友们并不怎么惦记他.总而言之,他们真是十分的快活.到晚上,他们常到歌剧院去,那儿上演的歌剧有德国小城里特别的风味,全是家常本色,又有趣又老派.在戏院里,贵族们坐在一边,一面看,一面哭,一面织袜子;中产阶级坐在另一边,正对着他们.大公爵带着他的一家也来听戏,全是胖胖的,一脸好脾气样儿,坐在正中的大包厢里面.正厅里挤满了仪态文雅的军官们,细细的腰,干草黄的胡子,每日的军饷一股脑儿全在内只有两便士.在这儿,爱米第一次欣赏莫扎特和契玛罗沙(契玛罗沙(Ｄｏｍｅｎｉｃｏ　Ｃｉｍａｒｏｓａ,１７４９—１８０１),意大利音乐家.)神妙的作品,听得非常心醉.前面已经说过少佐爱好音乐,也曾经夸奖他吹笛子的技术.可是我看他从这些歌剧里得到乐趣主要在于欣赏爱米的快乐.她听到这些超凡入圣的曲子,仿佛突然进了一个新的世界,一个充满了爱和美的世界.她的感觉又敏锐又细腻,听了莫扎特的音乐怎么会不感动呢?"唐璜"里面柔情的部分使她从心窝子里直乐出来.她晚上祷告的时候常常自问,不知享受过分的快乐是不是算一种罪过,因为她欣赏《我将和爱人相见》和《打,打!》两支曲子的时候,温柔的心里实在太快活了.她提出这问题向少佐请教;少佐算是她神修方面的顾问,自己又是信仰虔诚的人,就对她说,在他看来,不论是自然的美或是高超的艺术,不但使他觉得快乐,同时叫他生出感谢天恩的心思.他说我们欣赏美妙的音乐,就等于望见天上的星星,或是看到美丽的图画和风景,尽可以把它算做上天的恩赐,应该像得到了世俗的福气一般,诚心诚意感谢上苍.爱米丽亚在白朗浦顿住了多少年,看过好几本像《芬却莱广场的洗衣妇人》一类的宗教书,听了少佐的话忍不住要辩驳几句.少佐便说了一个东方的寓言作譬喻.寓言里的猫头鹰嫌太阳光太亮,刺得它睁不开眼,又说夜莺的歌声不值得大家那么夸奖.少佐笑着说:"夜莺天生会唱,猫头鹰却只会呼噜呼噜的叫唤.你的声音这么好听,自然该帮衬夜莺这一派才对呢."
    我很愿意多讲些爱米那一阵子的遭遇.她心境好,精神愉快,我瞧着也高兴.这样的好日子,她一辈子没有享受过几天.她一向受那些俗气的蠢材驱遣,从来没有机会启发自己的聪明,加深自己的修养.这种命运在女人里头是很普通的.亲爱的太太小姐们总把别的女人当做对头冤家.她们的心胸真宽大,照她们看起来,怕羞的全是糊涂虫,温柔全是蠢材.寡言罕语的习惯,其实是胆小的可怜虫对于那些蛮横的人表示不服气,等于没出口的抗议,可是在女人的裁判之下尤其得不到谅解.等我打个比方吧.亲爱的有修养的读者,如果今天晚上你和我跟好些卖菜的在一块儿,咱们俩的谈吐恐怕也就不能太露锋芒了吧?反过来说,如果有个卖菜的到你家来吃点心,碰见的都是些文雅高尚的贵客,人人都是满口的俏皮话,时髦的有名儿人物还用最风趣的口气把朋友们挖苦得体无完肤......这个陌生人到了这样的场合上,还有什么话可说呢?别的客人准会嫌他的话不动听,他本人一定也觉得气闷.
    请别忘了,这位可怜的太太直到现在没有结识过真正的君子.看来真正的君子也不像大家意料的那么多.有的人居心仁厚,忠诚不变,理想崇高;因为心里没有卑鄙的打算,性子也比人直爽,能够诚实待人,不论对于阔人穷人,都一样正直,一样宽容.这样的人,不论在什么地方都是千百个里挑不出几个来.我们认识的人里头,有百来个服饰整洁;有几十个礼貌周到;更有一二个好运气的,能够钻谋到所谓内部小圈子里,成了上流社会里的主脑人物;可是君子人究竟有多少呢?请大家拿张纸条出来把这些人的名字写下来算一算.
    不消说得,我所认识的君子人就是我现在描写的少佐.他的两条腿很长,脸皮黄黄的,说起话来还有些大舌头,叫初见面的人觉得好笑.可是他心肠正直,脑子也不错,待人既诚恳又谦虚,一辈子干干净净,老老实实的做人.他的手脚很大,因此两个乔治.奥斯本都要挖苦他,还给他画讽刺画.他们的讥笑大概使可怜的爱米小看了他.我们不是也时常小看我们的英雄,直到后来才承认错误吗?在这一段好日子里面,爱米发现少佐的许多好处,对于他的看法和以前大不相同.
    也许当时便是他们一辈子最快乐的时光,只可惜他们自己不知道.谁这么聪明呢?谁能够知道好运气已经登峰造极,人间的福气到此已经享尽了呢?不管怎么,他们两个都很知足,尽量享受这次暑期的旅行,心情的愉快比得上那年任何离英出游的人.看戏的时候,乔杰总跟着一起去,可是看完戏之后替爱米围上披肩的却是少佐.每逢出去散步,孩子走在前面,有时跑到塔顶上,有时爬到树上,他们两人沉着些,便留在下面.少佐静静的抽雪茄烟,爱米写生,有时画风景,有时画废墟.这本真实的历史的作者就在那次旅行的时候和他们碰头,交了朋友.
    我第一回和都宾上校和他的一群朋友相见,就在本浦聂格尔公国的京城里.从前毕脱.克劳莱爵士就曾经在此地做参赞,出过一阵风头;可是这是老话了,那时奥斯德力兹战事还没有发生,在德国的英国外交官还没有改变原来的见解.他们一行人坐了自备马车,带着向导,一直来到城里最讲究的皇家旅馆,全家就在旅馆吃了客饭.乔斯威风得很,吃饭的时候他叫了些本地酒,拿着酒杯啜一啜,尖着嘴一口口的吸,仿佛是个喝酒的内行;大家都很注意他.我们发现那男孩子的胃口也真不错.火腿.烤肉.土豆.红莓果酱.布丁.拌生菜.烤鸡鸭.甜点心,什么都吃,那勇猛的劲儿真能替他的祖国增光.他吃完了十五道菜以后,再吃一道甜点心才罢.他甚至于还带着甜点心出门,因为同桌有几个年轻的爷们觉得他那种从容不迫的气概很有趣,又叫他再拿一把杏仁饼干搁在口袋里.他饭后到戏院去,一路就吃饼干.在这种德国小城市里,气氛非常和睦愉快,饭后大家都去看戏.孩子的妈妈,那位穿黑衣服的太太,脸红红的笑着,吃饭的时候她瞧着儿子顽顽皮皮的耍各种把戏,又得意,又不好意思.我还记得上校......他不久以后就做到上校的地位了......我记得上校正颜厉色的和孩子开玩笑,告诉他说还有许多菜肴他没有尝过,劝他不必委屈自己的肚子,尽可以再吃双份.
    在本浦聂格尔的皇家大戏院,那夜到了一颗新星.施勒因特.台佛里昂太太正在盛年,美貌和天才都是最惊人的时候,在了不起的《菲台丽娥》一出戏里扮演主角.我们坐的是正厅前排,恰好望得见刚才在旅馆里吃客饭的四位客人.他们坐的包厢,是皇家旅馆的希文特拉先生特地给贵客留下来的.出色的女戏子和醉人的音乐使奥斯本太太(我们听得那位留胡子的胖先生那么叫她)感动的了不得.我们由于座位关系,把她的动静看得清楚极了.囚犯合唱的一段效果很惊人,女主角清脆的歌声越出众音之上,越唱越高,音调那么优美,真听得人心旷神怡.那位英国太太脸上惊喜的表情连小菲泼斯那参赞都觉得动心,他还算是风月场上的老手呢.他拿起望远镜对她瞧着,慢吞吞地说:"天哪,一个女人居然能够这样兴奋,叫人看着心里真喜欢."在监牢里的一幕,菲台丽娥冲到丈夫面前叫着:"不,不,我的弗罗莱斯坦,"奥斯本太太忍不住把手帕遮着脸儿哭起来了.那时戏院里所有的女人都在息息索索的哭,可是我偏偏注意她,大概是因为我命里注定要写她的传记的缘故吧.
    第二天,歌剧院又上演贝多芬的《威多利之战》.在开头的时候,玛尔白鲁在戏台上出现,表示法国军队正在迅速推进.然后是鼓声.喇叭声.隆隆的大炮声.兵士临死的呻吟声.最后便奏出英国国歌,那响亮雄壮的《天佑我王》.
    全戏院大概总共有二十来个英国人,听得这支无人不知无人不爱的国歌,都离开座位,站得笔挺,让人家看出他们是英国人.我们这些坐在正厅前排的小伙子,约翰.布尔密尼斯脱爵士夫妇(他们在本浦聂格尔弄了一所房子,准备让九个孩子在本地受教育),留胡子的胖子,穿细白帆布裤子的高大的少佐,那个很疼儿子的太太,都站起来了,连他们的向导基希,本来在楼厅上看戏,也离开了座位.代理公使铁泼窝姆在包厢里站起来,躬着身子,装腔作势的笑着,仿佛他就是整个大英帝国的代表.铁泼窝姆是铁泊托夫元帅的侄儿;也是元帅的财产承继人.铁泊托夫将军在前面已经介绍过.那时滑铁卢之战将要发生,他统领第......联队,都宾少佐也属他管辖.铁泊托夫是今年去世的,临死前还吃了一大顿肉冻,里面有许多呼潮鸟的蛋.他活着的时候名位极高,死掉之后,国王就委派了低级骑士麦格尔.奥多上校统领第......联队.奥多上校曾经带领这一联队军士打过好些光荣的胜仗.
    铁泼窝姆准是在都宾上校的上司铁泊托夫元帅家里见过都宾,因为当晚在戏院里,他竟还认得他.国王陛下的代理公使大赏面子,从他自己的包厢里走过来,当着众人和他新发现的朋友握手.
    菲泼斯在下面正厅里端相着他的上司说:"瞧铁泼窝姆那混帐的滑头.不管哪儿有了个好看的女人,他就来了."我想,外交官不是专门做这些事吗?除此之外还有什么用处呢?
    代理公使问道:"这位是都宾太太吗?我跟您相见,非常荣幸."说着,他献媚似的涎着脸儿笑.
    乔杰哈哈大笑,说道:"天哪,真是妙极了!"爱米和都宾绯红了脸.我们在楼下都看得见.
    少佐说:"这位是乔治.奥斯本太太.这位是她哥哥赛特笠先生,在孟加拉民政部地位很高.勋爵,请让我把他介绍给您."
    勋爵对乔斯嫣然一笑,害得乔斯差点儿站不稳.勋爵说:"您预备在本浦聂格尔长住吗?这儿沉闷得很.我们很希望有些高尚人士住在此地.我们总想法子让各位生活得舒服.呃哼姆......先生......喔霍......太太.明天早上,我上旅馆来拜会各位吧."他临走满面堆笑,向后溜了一眼,以为这样准能使奥斯本太太死心塌地爱上他.
    散场之后,我们年轻小伙子在过道里走来走去,看上流社会里的人回家.老公爵夫人坐了旧马车,铃子叮当,先走了.随身跟着她的有两个形容枯槁的忠心的老宫娥,还有一个矮小的.乌烟煤嘴的侍从官.这侍从官两条腿很瘦,穿着栗色的上衣,绿色的外套,上面挂了不少勋章,勋章里面最引人注目的是本浦聂格尔的圣麦克尔勋章,除了宝星之外还加一条华美的黄色绶带.那时鼓声咚咚,卫兵们立正敬礼,那辆旧马车就动身去了.
    然后轮到大公爵和他妻儿子女和官员随从.他从从容容的向个个人都鞠躬.卫兵行着敬礼,穿大红衣服的侍从举着亮亮的火把跑来跑去张罗,他们的马车也走了.他们住在古堡里,古堡筑在山上,上面还有尖塔和了望楼.在本浦聂格尔,大家彼此认识.随便什么陌生的外国人在那里露了脸,外交部长和大大小小的政府官员就到皇家旅馆去探听他姓甚名谁.
    我们等在那里眼看着他们也出了戏院.铁泼窝姆披上大衣,尽量扭捏出唐璜般的风流体态,走出戏院去了.他有个高高大大的卫兵,老是拿着他的大衣在他左右伺候.首相的太太刚刚挤进轿子,她的女儿,那可爱的亚爱达,刚刚系上头巾,穿上厚底鞋,那一群英国人就出来了.那男孩子倦得直打呵欠;少佐留心着不让大披风从奥斯本太太头上滑下来,赛特笠先生歪戴着弹簧折叠帽,一只手按着胸口,塞在宽大的白背心里,样子好不威风.我们看见这些同桌吃饭的朋友,都脱了帽子.那位太太微笑着行了一个屈膝礼,大家都觉得受宠若惊.
    他们的马车早已从旅馆里赶过来等在戏院门口,基希忙忙碌碌的张罗着.那胖子说他宁可走路回家,一路还可以抽抽雪茄烟.另外的三个人听见他这么说,对我们大家笑着点点头,离开赛特笠先生先动身.基希捧着雪茄匣子,跟着主人走回去.
    我们大家一起走,一路和那位肥胖的先生谈起本地的好处.英国人在那儿过得很舒服,常常可以出去打猎,而且当地的宫廷非常好客,舞会宴会也不少.来往的人物都很不错,上演的戏文又好,东西又便宜.我们的新朋友接口道:"再说,咱们的公使待人和气,真是讨人喜欢.有了这样一个政府代表,再只要一个好医生,我想这儿很可以住一阵子.再会,先生们."乔斯上楼睡觉,鞋子吱吱地响,基希举起火把照着他.我们都很希望那位好看的太太肯在本地多住些时候.

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

举报只看该作者 66楼发表于: 2013-10-24 0

回复引用

顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

举报只看该作者 67楼发表于: 2013-10-24 0

CHAPTER LXIII

In Which We Meet an Old Acquaintance
Such polite behaviour as that of Lord Tapeworm did not fail to have the most favourable effect upon Mr. Sedley's mind, and the very next morning, at breakfast, he pronounced his opinion that Pumpernickel was the pleasantest little place of any which he had visited on their tour. Jos's motives and artifices were not very difficult of comprehension, and Dobbin laughed in his sleeve, like a hypocrite as he was, when he found, by the knowing air of the civilian and the offhand manner in which the latter talked about Tapeworm Castle and the other members of the family, that Jos had been up already in the morning, consulting his travelling Peerage. Yes, he had seen the Right Honourable the Earl of Bagwig, his lordship's father; he was sure he had, he had met him at--at the Levee--didn't Dob remember? and when the Diplomatist called on the party, faithful to his promise, Jos received him with such a salute and honours as were seldom accorded to the little Envoy. He winked at Kirsch on his Excellency's arrival, and that emissary, instructed before-hand, went out and superintended an entertainment of cold meats, jellies, and other delicacies, brought in upon trays, and of which Mr. Jos absolutely insisted that his noble guest should partake.
Tapeworm, so long as he could have an opportunity of admiring the bright eyes of Mrs. Osborne (whose freshness of complexion bore daylight remarkably well) was not ill pleased to accept any invitation to stay in Mr. Sedley's lodgings; he put one or two dexterous questions to him about India and the dancing-girls there; asked Amelia about that beautiful boy who had been with her; and complimented the astonished little woman upon the prodigious sensation which she had made in the house; and tried to fascinate Dobbin by talking of the late war and the exploits of the Pumpernickel contingent under the command of the Hereditary Prince, now Duke of Pumpernickel.
Lord Tapeworm inherited no little portion of the family gallantry, and it was his happy belief that almost every woman upon whom he himself cast friendly eyes was in love with him. He left Emmy under the persuasion that she was slain by his wit and attractions and went home to his lodgings to write a pretty little note to her. She was not fascinated, only puzzled, by his grinning, his simpering, his scented cambric handkerchief, and his high-heeled lacquered boots. She did not understand one-half the compliments which he paid; she had never, in her small experience of mankind, met a professional ladies' man as yet, and looked upon my lord as something curious rather than pleasant; and if she did not admire, certainly wondered at him. Jos, on the contrary, was delighted. "How very affable his Lordship is," he said; "How very kind of his Lordship to say he would send his medical man! Kirsch, you will carry our cards to the Count de Schlusselback directly; the Major and I will have the greatest pleasure in paying our respects at Court as soon as possible. Put out my uniform, Kirsch--both our uniforms. It is a mark of politeness which every English gentleman ought to show to the countries which he visits to pay his respects to the sovereigns of those countries as to the representatives of his own."
When Tapeworm's doctor came, Doctor von Glauber, Body Physician to H.S.H. the Duke, he speedily convinced Jos that the Pumpernickel mineral springs and the Doctor's particular treatment would infallibly restore the Bengalee to youth and slimness. "Dere came here last year," he said, "Sheneral Bulkeley, an English Sheneral, tvice so pic as you, sir. I sent him back qvite tin after tree months, and he danced vid Baroness Glauber at the end of two."
Jos's mind was made up; the springs, the Doctor, the Court, and the Charge d'Affaires convinced him, and he proposed to spend the autumn in these delightful quarters. And punctual to his word, on the next day the Charge d'Affaires presented Jos and the Major to Victor Aurelius XVII, being conducted to their audience with that sovereign by the Count de Schlusselback, Marshal of the Court.
They were straightway invited to dinner at Court, and their intention of staying in the town being announced, the politest ladies of the whole town instantly called upon Mrs. Osborne; and as not one of these, however poor they might be, was under the rank of a Baroness, Jos's delight was beyond expression. He wrote off to Chutney at the Club to say that the Service was highly appreciated in Germany, that he was going to show his friend, the Count de Schlusselback, how to stick a pig in the Indian fashion, and that his august friends, the Duke and Duchess, were everything that was kind and civil.
Emmy, too, was presented to the august family, and as mourning is not admitted in Court on certain days, she appeared in a pink crape dress with a diamond ornament in the corsage, presented to her by her brother, and she looked so pretty in this costume that the Duke and Court (putting out of the question the Major, who had scarcely ever seen her before in an evening dress, and vowed that she did not look five-and-twenty) all admired her excessively.
In this dress she walked a Polonaise with Major Dobbin at a Court ball, in which easy dance Mr. Jos had the honour of leading out the Countess of Schlusselback, an old lady with a hump back, but with sixteen good quarters of nobility and related to half the royal houses of Germany.
Pumpernickel stands in the midst of a happy valley through which sparkles--to mingle with the Rhine somewhere, but I have not the map at hand to say exactly at what point--the fertilizing stream of the Pump. In some places the river is big enough to support a ferry- boat, in others to turn a mill; in Pumpernickel itself, the last Transparency but three, the great and renowned Victor Aurelius XIV built a magnificent bridge, on which his own statue rises, surrounded by water-nymphs and emblems of victory, peace, and plenty; he has his foot on the neck of a prostrate Turk--history says he engaged and ran a Janissary through the body at the relief of Vienna by Sobieski--but, quite undisturbed by the agonies of that prostrate Mahometan, who writhes at his feet in the most ghastly manner, the Prince smiles blandly and points with his truncheon in the direction of the Aurelius Platz, where he began to erect a new palace that would have been the wonder of his age had the great- souled Prince but had funds to complete it. But the completion of Monplaisir (Monblaisir the honest German folks call it) was stopped for lack of ready money, and it and its park and garden are now in rather a faded condition, and not more than ten times big enough to accommodate the Court of the reigning Sovereign.
The gardens were arranged to emulate those of Versailles, and amidst the terraces and groves there are some huge allegorical waterworks still, which spout and froth stupendously upon fete-days, and frighten one with their enormous aquatic insurrections. There is the Trophonius' cave in which, by some artifice, the leaden Tritons are made not only to spout water, but to play the most dreadful groans out of their lead conchs--there is the nymphbath and the Niagara cataract, which the people of the neighbourhood admire beyond expression, when they come to the yearly fair at the opening of the Chamber, or to the fetes with which the happy little nation still celebrates the birthdays and marriage-days of its princely governors.
Then from all the towns of the Duchy, which stretches for nearly ten mile--from Bolkum, which lies on its western frontier bidding defiance to Prussia, from Grogwitz, where the Prince has a hunting- lodge, and where his dominions are separated by the Pump River from those of the neighbouring Prince of Potzenthal; from all the little villages, which besides these three great cities, dot over the happy principality--from the farms and the mills along the Pump come troops of people in red petticoats and velvet head-dresses, or with three-cornered hats and pipes in their mouths, who flock to the Residenz and share in the pleasures of the fair and the festivities there. Then the theatre is open for nothing, then the waters of Monblaisir begin to play (it is lucky that there is company to behold them, for one would be afraid to see them alone)--then there come mountebanks and riding troops (the way in which his Transparency was fascinated by one of the horse-riders is well known, and it is believed that La Petite Vivandiere, as she was called, was a spy in the French interest), and the delighted people are permitted to march through room after room of the Grand Ducal palace and admire the slippery floor, the rich hangings, and the spittoons at the doors of all the innumerable chambers. There is one Pavilion at Monblaisir which Aurelius Victor XV had arranged--a great Prince but too fond of pleasure--and which I am told is a perfect wonder of licentious elegance. It is painted with the story of Bacchus and Ariadne, and the table works in and out of the room by means of a windlass, so that the company was served without any intervention of domestics. But the place was shut up by Barbara, Aurelius XV's widow, a severe and devout Princess of the House of Bolkum and Regent of the Duchy during her son's glorious minority, and after the death of her husband, cut off in the pride of his pleasures.
The theatre of Pumpernickel is known and famous in that quarter of Germany. It languished a little when the present Duke in his youth insisted upon having his own operas played there, and it is said one day, in a fury, from his place in the orchestra, when he attended a rehearsal, broke a bassoon on the head of the Chapel Master, who was conducting, and led too slow; and during which time the Duchess Sophia wrote domestic comedies, which must have been very dreary to witness. But the Prince executes his music in private now, and the Duchess only gives away her plays to the foreigners of distinction who visit her kind little Court.
It is conducted with no small comfort and splendour. When there are balls, though there may be four hundred people at supper, there is a servant in scarlet and lace to attend upon every four, and every one is served on silver. There are festivals and entertainments going continually on, and the Duke has his chamberlains and equerries, and the Duchess her mistress of the wardrobe and ladies of honour, just like any other and more potent potentates.
The Constitution is or was a moderate despotism, tempered by a Chamber that might or might not be elected. I never certainly could hear of its sitting in my time at Pumpernickel. The Prime Minister had lodgings in a second floor, and the Foreign Secretary occupied the comfortable lodgings over Zwieback's Conditorey. The army consisted of a magnificent band that also did duty on the stage, where it was quite pleasant to see the worthy fellows marching in Turkish dresses with rouge on and wooden scimitars, or as Roman warriors with ophicleides and trombones--to see them again, I say, at night, after one had listened to them all the morning in the Aurelius Platz, where they performed opposite the cafe where we breakfasted. Besides the band, there was a rich and numerous staff of officers, and, I believe, a few men. Besides the regular sentries, three or four men, habited as hussars, used to do duty at the Palace, but I never saw them on horseback, and au fait, what was the use of cavalry in a time of profound peace?--and whither the deuce should the hussars ride?
Everybody--everybody that was noble of course, for as for the bourgeois we could not quite be expected to take notice of THEM-- visited his neighbour. H. E. Madame de Burst received once a week, H. E. Madame de Schnurrbart had her night--the theatre was open twice a week, the Court graciously received once, so that a man's life might in fact be a perfect round of pleasure in the unpretending Pumpernickel way.
That there were feuds in the place, no one can deny. Politics ran very high at Pumpernickel, and parties were very bitter. There was the Strumpff faction and the Lederlung party, the one supported by our envoy and the other by the French Charge d'Affaires, M. de Macabau. Indeed it sufficed for our Minister to stand up for Madame Strumpff, who was clearly the greater singer of the two, and had three more notes in her voice than Madame Lederlung her rival--it sufficed, I say, for our Minister to advance any opinion to have it instantly contradicted by the French diplomatist.
Everybody in the town was ranged in one or other of these factions. The Lederlung was a prettyish little creature certainly, and her voice (what there was of it) was very sweet, and there is no doubt that the Strumpff was not in her first youth and beauty, and certainly too stout; when she came on in the last scene of the Sonnambula, for instance, in her night-chemise with a lamp in her hand, and had to go out of the window, and pass over the plank of the mill, it was all she could do to squeeze out of the window, and the plank used to bend and creak again under her weight--but how she poured out the finale of the opera! and with what a burst of feeling she rushed into Elvino's arms--almost fit to smother him! Whereas the little Lederlung--but a truce to this gossip--the fact is that these two women were the two flags of the French and the English party at Pumpernickel, and the society was divided in its allegiance to those two great nations.
We had on our side the Home Minister, the Master of the Horse, the Duke's Private Secretary, and the Prince's Tutor; whereas of the French party were the Foreign Minister, the Commander-in-Chief's Lady, who had served under Napoleon, and the Hof-Marschall and his wife, who was glad enough to get the fashions from Pans, and always had them and her caps by M. de Macabau's courier. The Secretary of his Chancery was little Grignac, a young fellow, as malicious as Satan, and who made caricatures of Tapeworm in all the-albums of the place.
Their headquarters and table d'hote were established at the Pariser Hof, the other inn of the town; and though, of course, these gentlemen were obliged to be civil in public, yet they cut at each other with epigrams that were as sharp as razors, as I have seen a couple of wrestlers in Devonshire, lashing at each other's shins and never showing their agony upon a muscle of their faces. Neither Tapeworm nor Macabau ever sent home a dispatch to his government without a most savage series of attacks upon his rival. For instance, on our side we would write, "The interests of Great Britain in this place, and throughout the whole of Germany, are perilled by the continuance in office of the present French envoy; this man is of a character so infamous that he will stick at no falsehood, or hesitate at no crime, to attain his ends. He poisons the mind of the Court against the English minister, represents the conduct of Great Britain in the most odious and atrocious light, and is unhappily backed by a minister whose ignorance and necessities are as notorious as his influence is fatal." On their side they would say, "M. de Tapeworm continues his system of stupid insular arrogance and vulgar falsehood against the greatest nation in the world. Yesterday he was heard to speak lightly of Her Royal Highness Madame the Duchess of Berri; on a former occasion he insulted the heroic Duke of Angouleme and dared to insinuate that H.R.H. the Duke of Orleans was conspiring against the august throne of the lilies. His gold is prodigated in every direction which his stupid menaces fail to frighten. By one and the other, he has won over creatures of the Court here--and, in fine, Pumpernickel will not be quiet, Germany tranquil, France respected, or Europe content until this poisonous viper be crushed under heel": and so on. When one side or the other had written any particularly spicy dispatch, news of it was sure to slip out.
Before the winter was far advanced, it is actually on record that Emmy took a night and received company with great propriety and modesty. She had a French master, who complimented her upon the purity of her accent and her facility of learning; the fact is she had learned long ago and grounded herself subsequently in the grammar so as to be able to teach it to George; and Madam Strumpff came to give her lessons in singing, which she performed so well and with such a true voice that the Major's windows, who had lodgings opposite under the Prime Minister, were always open to hear the lesson. Some of the German ladies, who are very sentimental and simple in their tastes, fell in love with her and began to call her du at once. These are trivial details, but they relate to happy times. The Major made himself George's tutor and read Caesar and mathematics with him, and they had a German master and rode out of evenings by the side of Emmy's carriage--she was always too timid, and made a dreadful outcry at the slightest disturbance on horse- back. So she drove about with one of her dear German friends, and Jos asleep on the back-seat of the barouche.
He was becoming very sweet upon the Grafinn Fanny de Butterbrod, a very gentle tender-hearted and unassuming young creature, a Canoness and Countess in her own right, but with scarcely ten pounds per year to her fortune, and Fanny for her part declared that to be Amelia's sister was the greatest delight that Heaven could bestow on her, and Jos might have put a Countess's shield and coronet by the side of his own arms on his carriage and forks; when--when events occurred, and those grand fetes given upon the marriage of the Hereditary Prince of Pumpernickel with the lovely Princess Amelia of Humbourg- Schlippenschloppen took place.
At this festival the magnificence displayed was such as had not been known in the little German place since the days of the prodigal Victor XIV. All the neighbouring Princes, Princesses, and Grandees were invited to the feast. Beds rose to half a crown per night in Pumpernickel, and the Army was exhausted in providing guards of honour for the Highnesses, Serenities, and Excellencies who arrived from all quarters. The Princess was married by proxy, at her father's residence, by the Count de Schlusselback. Snuff-boxes were given away in profusion (as we learned from the Court jeweller, who sold and afterwards bought them again), and bushels of the Order of Saint Michael of Pumpernickel were sent to the nobles of the Court, while hampers of the cordons and decorations of the Wheel of St. Catherine of Schlippenschloppen were brought to ours. The French envoy got both. "He is covered with ribbons like a prize cart- horse," Tapeworm said, who was not allowed by the rules of his service to take any decorations: "Let him have the cordons; but with whom is the victory?" The fact is, it was a triumph of British diplomacy, the French party having proposed and tried their utmost to carry a marriage with a Princess of the House of Potztausend- Donnerwetter, whom, as a matter of course, we opposed.
Everybody was asked to the fetes of the marriage. Garlands and triumphal arches were hung across the road to welcome the young bride. The great Saint Michael's Fountain ran with uncommonly sour wine, while that in the Artillery Place frothed with beer. The great waters played; and poles were put up in the park and gardens for the happy peasantry, which they might climb at their leisure, carrying off watches, silver forks, prize sausages hung with pink ribbon, &c., at the top. Georgy got one, wrenching it off, having swarmed up the pole to the delight of the spectators, and sliding down with the rapidity of a fall of water. But it was for the glory's sake merely. The boy gave the sausage to a peasant, who had very nearly seized it, and stood at the foot of the mast, blubbering, because he was unsuccessful.
At the French Chancellerie they had six more lampions in their illumination than ours had; but our transparency, which represented the young Couple advancing and Discord flying away, with the most ludicrous likeness to the French Ambassador, beat the French picture hollow; and I have no doubt got Tapeworm the advancement and the Cross of the Bath which he subsequently attained.
Crowds of foreigners arrived for the fetes, and of English, of course. Besides the Court balls, public balls were given at the Town Hall and the Redoute, and in the former place there was a room for trente-et-quarante and roulette established, for the week of the festivities only, and by one of the great German companies from Ems or Aix-la-Chapelle. The officers or inhabitants of the town were not allowed to play at these games, but strangers, peasants, ladies were admitted, and any one who chose to lose or win money.
That little scapegrace Georgy Osborne amongst others, whose pockets were always full of dollars and whose relations were away at the grand festival of the Court, came to the Stadthaus Ball in company of his uncle's courier, Mr. Kirsch, and having only peeped into a play-room at Baden-Baden when he hung on Dobbin's arm, and where, of course, he was not permitted to gamble, came eagerly to this part of the entertainment and hankered round the tables where the croupiers and the punters were at work. Women were playing; they were masked, some of them; this license was allowed in these wild times of carnival.
A woman with light hair, in a low dress by no means so fresh as it had been, and with a black mask on, through the eyelets of which her eyes twinkled strangely, was seated at one of the roulette-tables with a card and a pin and a couple of florins before her. As the croupier called out the colour and number, she pricked on the card with great care and regularity, and only ventured her money on the colours after the red or black had come up a certain number of times. It was strange to look at her.
But in spite of her care and assiduity she guessed wrong and the last two florins followed each other under the croupier's rake, as he cried out with his inexorable voice the winning colour and number. She gave a sigh, a shrug with her shoulders, which were already too much out of her gown, and dashing the pin through the card on to the table, sat thrumming it for a while. Then she looked round her and saw Georgy's honest face staring at the scene. The little scamp! What business had he to be there?
When she saw the boy, at whose face she looked hard through her shining eyes and mask, she said, "Monsieur n'est pas joueur?"
"Non, Madame," said the boy; but she must have known, from his accent, of what country he was, for she answered him with a slight foreign tone. "You have nevare played--will you do me a littl' favor?"
"What is it?" said Georgy, blushing again. Mr. Kirsch was at work for his part at the rouge et noir and did not see his young master.
"Play this for me, if you please; put it on any number, any number." And she took from her bosom a purse, and out of it a gold piece, the only coin there, and she put it into George's hand. The boy laughed and did as he was bid.
The number came up sure enough. There is a power that arranges that, they say, for beginners.
"Thank you," said she, pulling the money towards her, "thank you. What is your name?"
"My name's Osborne," said Georgy, and was fingering in his own pockets for dollars, and just about to make a trial, when the Major, in his uniform, and Jos, en Marquis, from the Court ball, made their appearance. Other people, finding the entertainment stupid and preferring the fun at the Stadthaus, had quitted the Palace ball earlier; but it is probable the Major and Jos had gone home and found the boy's absence, for the former instantly went up to him and, taking him by the shoulder, pulled him briskly back from the place of temptation. Then, looking round the room, he saw Kirsch employed as we have said, and going up to him, asked how he dared to bring Mr. George to such a place.
"Laissez-moi tranquille," said Mr. Kirsch, very much excited by play and wine. "ll faut s'amuser, parbleu. Je ne suis pas au service de Monsieur."
Seeing his condition the Major did not choose to argue with the man, but contented himself with drawing away George and asking Jos if he would come away. He was standing close by the lady in the mask, who was playing with pretty good luck now, and looking on much interested at the game.
"Hadn't you better come, Jos," the Major said, "with George and me?"
"I'll stop and go home with that rascal, Kirsch," Jos said; and for the same reason of modesty, which he thought ought to be preserved before the boy, Dobbin did not care to remonstrate with Jos, but left him and walked home with Georgy.
"Did you play?" asked the Major when they were out and on their way home.
The boy said "No."
"Give me your word of honour as a gentleman that you never will."
"Why?" said the boy; "it seems very good fun." And, in a very eloquent and impressive manner, the Major showed him why he shouldn't, and would have enforced his precepts by the example of Georgy's own father, had he liked to say anything that should reflect on the other's memory. When he had housed him, he went to bed and saw his light, in the little room outside of Amelia's, presently disappear. Amelia's followed half an hour afterwards. I don't know what made the Major note it so accurately.
Jos, however, remained behind over the play-table; he was no gambler, but not averse to the little excitement of the sport now and then, and he had some Napoleons chinking in the embroidered pockets of his court waistcoat. He put down one over the fair shoulder of the little gambler before him, and they won. She made a little movement to make room for him by her side, and just took the skirt of her gown from a vacant chair there.
"Come and give me good luck," she said, still in a foreign accent, quite different from that frank and perfectly English "Thank you," with which she had saluted Georgy's coup in her favour. The portly gentleman, looking round to see that nobody of rank observed him, sat down; he muttered--"Ah, really, well now, God bless my soul. I'm very fortunate; I'm sure to give you good fortune," and other words of compliment and confusion. "Do you play much?" the foreign mask said.
"I put a Nap or two down," said Jos with a superb air, flinging down a gold piece.
"Yes; ay nap after dinner," said the mask archly. But Jos looking frightened, she continued, in her pretty French accent, "You do not play to win. No more do I. I play to forget, but I cannot. I cannot forget old times, monsieur. Your little nephew is the image of his father; and you--you are not changed--but yes, you are. Everybody changes, everybody forgets; nobody has any heart."
"Good God, who is it?" asked Jos in a flutter.
"Can't you guess, Joseph Sedley?" said the little woman in a sad voice, and undoing her mask, she looked at him. "You have forgotten me."
"Good heavens! Mrs. Crawley!" gasped out Jos.
"Rebecca," said the other, putting her hand on his; but she followed the game still, all the time she was looking at him.
"I am stopping at the Elephant," she continued. "Ask for Madame de Raudon. I saw my dear Amelia to-day; how pretty she looked, and how happy! So do you! Everybody but me, who am wretched, Joseph Sedley." And she put her money over from the red to the black, as if by a chance movement of her hand, and while she was wiping her eyes with a pocket-handkerchief fringed with torn lace.
The red came up again, and she lost the whole of that stake. "Come away," she said. "Come with me a little--we are old friends, are we not, dear Mr. Sedley?"
And Mr. Kirsch having lost all his money by this time, followed his master out into the moonlight, where the illuminations were winking out and the transparency over our mission was scarcely visible.

第六十三章    我们遇见一个老相识
    赛特笠先生看见铁泼窝姆勋爵这么客气,不消说高兴的了不得.第二天早上吃早饭的时候,他就对大家说,他觉得这次到过的地方,只有本浦聂格尔最有趣.这印度文官的心思和手段是瞒不过人的,都宾看见他仿佛是个内行似的,开口就谈铁泼窝姆堡的掌故和这家的人物,知道他一早起来已经翻过随身带着的《缙绅录》,肚里暗暗好笑,由此可见他也是个外面老实.心里调皮的家伙.乔斯说他从前见过铁泼窝姆勋爵的父亲巴格威格伯爵.他说他没有记错,那一次见面是在......在宫廷集会上,难道都宾不记得了吗?外交官没有失约,果真跑来拜访他们;乔斯对他恭而敬之,深深的行礼,这位小公使一辈子没有几回受到这么殷勤的款待.他大人一到,乔斯就对基希使个眼色.基希是早经吩咐过的,立刻出去预备了好些冷肉.糖酱和别的美味食品,做几盘子托进来.乔斯先生殷殷勤勤的劝他高贵的客人赏光.
    铁泼窝姆呢,只要能够欣赏奥斯本太太明亮的眼睛(她脸色又鲜艳,在白天也一点儿不显得衰老)......他只要能和奥斯本太太周旋,就很愿意接受乔斯的邀请,巴不得多留一会儿.他口儿很乖滑,向乔斯问了一两个关于印度和当地跳舞女郎的问题,和爱米说起隔夜在她身边的漂亮男孩子,又奉承她说她轰动了整个戏院,爱米听了大出意外.他又讨好都宾,跟他谈起过去的战事,以及本浦聂格尔大公爵接位之前带领了本国军队建立的功绩.
    铁泼窝姆勋爵受遗传的影响,性格很风流.他自信承他看得上眼的女人,没有一个不爱他,心上着实得意.那天他告别的时候,满心以为自己俏皮的口角和迷人的相貌已经使爱米对他十分倾倒,回到家里就写了一封短信给她,说了不少好听的话.只可惜爱米并没有给他迷住.她看见铁泼窝姆笑得呲牙裂齿,挤眉弄眼,手里拿着洒香水的细麻纱手帕,脚上穿了高跟的漆皮皮鞋,只觉得这个人莫名其妙.他说的奉承话儿,她倒有一大半听不懂.她见的世面不多,从来不曾碰见过专门逢迎太太小姐的男人.在她看来,勋爵的举止古怪得很,一点儿也不讨人喜欢,这样的人真是件希罕物儿,不过要她赏识是不能够的了.乔斯呢,恰好相反,欢喜的了不得.他说:"勋爵待人多和气.他说他还要把他的医生荐给我呢,瞧他的心肠多好!基希,马上把我们的名片送到特.施乐塞尔巴克伯爵家里去.少佐和我快要进宫觐见了,反正是能早去就早去.基希,把我的制服拿出来......把我们两个人的制服都拿出来.每个英国的上等人,无论到了什么国家,不但应该去拜会本国国王派出来的代表,而且应该去参见当地的君主,这一点儿礼节是不能免的."
    替铁泼窝姆看病的冯.格劳白医生也就是大公爵的御医.他说的话马上叫乔斯相信本浦聂格尔的矿泉和冯.格劳白特殊的医疗法准能使他身材瘦小,重获青春.他说:"去年这儿来了一位英国的将军,叫做白尔格莱将军.他比你胖一倍,可是三个月之后他回国的时候,一点也不胖了.我给他看了两个月病,他就能跟格劳白男爵夫人一块儿跳舞."
    乔斯决定在这可爱的地方住一秋天.医生和代理公使劝他留下,当地又有矿泉,又有王宫,因此他的主意就定了.铁泼窝姆非常守信,一点不错日子,第二天就引着乔斯和少佐去觐见了维克多.奥里利斯第十七,由宫廷司礼官特.施乐塞尔巴克伯爵把他们领到国君面前.
    大公爵立刻邀他们进宫去吃饭.他们准备留在当地的消息一传出去,本城最高贵的命妇一起都来拜会奥斯本太太.这些人里头虽然有极穷的,可是头衔都不小,至少也是男爵夫人.乔斯的得意真是难以言语形容.他写信给俱乐部里的契德内,说德国人非常看重英国在印度设立的民政部;他不久就要把印度人刺野猪的方法教给他的朋友施乐塞尔巴克伯爵;还说他的尊贵的朋友大公爵和公爵夫人待人真是厚道客气得无以复加.
    爱米也进宫见了这些贵人.在宫廷里,规定有几天是不能穿孝服的,因此她穿了粉红硬绸的长袍,胸前戴了她哥哥送的金刚钻首饰.这么一打扮,她显得真美丽,公爵和他宫廷里的人都不住口的赞叹.少佐以前差不多从来不看见她穿晚礼服,不消说十分夸奖,赌咒说她看上去还不到二十五岁.
    她穿了这件礼服和都宾少佐一同跳了一次波兰舞.这种跳舞不难,乔斯先生和施乐塞尔巴克伯爵夫人也合跳了一场,觉得十分荣幸.伯爵夫人是个驼背老太太,国内有十六家贵族是她近亲,他们的纹章她有权使用.德国各个皇族之中,倒有一半是她的亲戚本家.
    本浦聂格尔公国的位置在一个丰腴的山谷里,闪闪发光的本浦河贯穿全境,灌溉得国内的土壤十分肥沃.这条小河流入莱茵河,可是我手边没有地图,不能告诉你两条河的汇合点究竟在哪里.在有些地方,河上可以载得起渡船,有些地方,水力大得可以转动风车.前两代的大公爵,那威名远播的维克多.奥里利斯十四,曾经在本浦聂格尔境内造了一座壮丽的大桥,桥上有他自己的像,四面围绕着许多水神,以及各种胜利.和平.繁荣.富强的标记.他一脚踏住匍匐在地上的土耳其人,恰巧踩在他脖子上(根据历史记载,在索皮哀斯基(即波兰王约翰三世(１６２４—９６).)解放维也纳的时候,公爵曾经和一个土耳其步兵对打,一刀把对手刺个透明窟窿).地下的回教徒疼得难受,一副嘴脸非常可怕,可是公爵一些儿不在乎,一面和颜悦色的微笑着,一面把指挥棍指着奥里利斯广场.当时他正在广场上着手建造一所新的宫殿.如果伟大的公爵有足够的资金把宫殿造完的话,准是当代的奇观.不幸他手头短钱,蒙泊莱齐皇宫(老实的德国人管它叫蒙勃莱齐)也就没有完工.那场地和花园给当今的宫廷中人应用,也不过太大十倍,光彩是大不如从前了.
    宫里的花园原指望布置得比法国凡尔赛宫的花园更加精美.在许多平台树丛中间,至今有几个巨大的喷泉,塑的人像都取材于寓言神话.每逢节日,这些喷泉便大喷特喷,气势那么浩大,叫人看了心惊胆战.花园里有一个脱劳夫尼厄斯的山洞(脱劳夫尼厄斯(Ｔｒｏｐｈｏｎｉｕｓ)是波衣细亚的王子,和他兄弟阿加米地斯在本国为哈利亚的国王造了一个库房.后来两兄弟同去抢劫库里的财宝,阿加米地斯掉入陷阱,脱劳夫尼厄斯为避免被人识破起见,把兄弟杀死,割下了他的头.此后他本人给太阳神亚波罗处死,死后时常显灵为凡人解答难题,凡去求他指示的,便到为他特设的山洞里去.),里面有几个铅做的脱拉哀顿(海神波沙哀登之子,通常的图画中,他总在吹海螺.),不但能喷水,而且在他们的铅海螺里会发出可怕的呻吟.此外还有水神的浴池和仿造的尼亚嘉拉大瀑布,从附近赶来凑热闹的人都看得不住口的赞叹.每年议院开会有市集的当儿,或是碰上节日......在这快乐的小国里,凡是王公们的生日或是结婚纪念日都得庆祝......四面八方的人便都来了.
    公国方圆差不多有十里,每逢节日假期,公国里各镇的人都聚到王宫附近......包尔根镇在公国西面边境,和普鲁士抗衡;格罗维兹镇沿本浦河,和对岸包曾泰尔公国相望,公爵的猎屋就在那里.除去这三个大镇(第三个大镇便是首都.),快乐的公国里还散布着许多小村庄,从这些村里,还有本浦河旁的农庄和磨坊里,来的人也不少.女的穿着红裙子,戴着丝绒帽子,男的戴着三角帽,口里衔着烟斗,都来赶集,参加各种喜庆宴乐.到那时,各戏院都免费开放,蒙勃莱齐宫的喷泉也喷起水来了,也幸而有那么许多人一起看,独自一个人瞧着这些怪可怕的东西不要害怕吗?一群群的人里面还有走江湖的和骑马往来各地献技的卖艺人.公爵对于其中一个跑解马的女人非常倾倒,这也是人人都知道的.大家叫她"随军小贩",据说她是法国方面的间谍.这时候,王宫也开放了,老百姓们可以在宫里穿来穿去,高兴得不得了,看着光滑的地板和讲究的帘子帐幔赞叹不置.宫里那么许多房间,每间房里都有一个痰盂,在他们看来也很了不起.在蒙勃莱齐宫里还有一座阁,是维克多.奥里利斯十五所布置的.这位大公爵很了不起,可是太爱享乐,听说这座阁瑰丽奇巧到极点,说不尽有多少好看.墙上画着酒神巴克斯和亚丽亚纳(亚丽亚纳(Ａｒｉａｄｎｅ)是克利蒂王的女儿,她救出英雄蒂修斯之后,又被蒂修斯所遗弃,以后就嫁给酒神,有的传说说她上吊死了.)的故事.门口装着一个绞盘,桌子自动转出转进,客人们可以不用佣人伺候,自己拿东西吃.可是奥里利斯十五死后,他的妻子巴蓓兰就把这地方关闭起来了.巴蓓兰是包尔根皇室的公主,为人谨严,信教非常虔诚,她丈夫耽于逸乐,在志得意满的时候死掉了,那时她的光芒万丈的儿子还没有成年,就由她摄政.
    在德国境内这一带地方,本浦聂格尔公国的戏院是有名的.当今大公爵年轻的时候,一定要把自己编写的歌剧在戏院上演,因此戏院的名声低落了一些.据说有一回,公爵去听乐队演习,嫌乐队领班指挥的太慢,气冲冲的走上去把一个双簧管兜头砸下去,把乐器都砸坏了.那时索菲亚公爵夫人也常写家庭喜剧,想来必定是极其沉闷的作品.可是现在不同了,大公爵的音乐不再当众演奏,公爵夫人的剧本,也只在外国贵宾到他们那空气和睦的宫里拜访的时候才上演.
    他们的宫廷里着实豪华,生活也很舒服.有跳舞会的时候,哪怕有四百个客人吃晚饭,每四位客人就有一个穿花边红号衣的听差伺候着,用的碗盏器皿都是银子的.宫里三日两头儿请客,大宴会小宴会逐日进行着.公爵有他的侍从和掌马的官员,公爵夫人也有她的宫女和管衣装的女官,像其他大国的国王王后一样.
    他们国里的政体是开明的独裁制度,也有个议会,可以把专制的气氛冲淡一些,可是这个议会有时有,有时却没有.我在本浦聂格尔的时候,从来没听见过议会开会的事情.首相的一家只住一个三楼,外务大臣动用的是贮藏所上面几间舒服的屋子.军队里有一个出色的乐队,往往也在戏院里帮忙演戏.有时我们在咖啡馆里吃早饭,一早晨听得他们在对面奥里利斯广场演习,可是到晚上又看见这些好人儿在戏台上演戏,有时是土耳其装束,脸上涂着胭脂,手里拿了短刀,有时扮成罗马军士,吹着各种大喇叭,真叫我们觉得好玩.除了乐队之外,军队里还有一大群军官,大概还有几个兵士.除了经常的步哨,王宫里总有三四个人穿了骑兵服色在站岗,可是我从来没有看见他们骑马.说实话,世界这么平静,要骑兵什么用?再说,叫骑兵们骑了马上哪儿跑呢?
    人人都出去拜访邻居,不过所谓"人人",当然是指贵族而说,那些中产阶级,我们是不屑理睬的.一星期里头,特.白丝脱夫人请一次客,特.施奴尔巴夫人抽出一个晚上举行宴会,戏院演两回戏;宫里客气得很,也是每星期请客一次.因此你的生活真的是连续不断的寻欢作乐,不过作乐的方式是不铺张的,本浦聂格尔式的就是了.
    我们的宫里也分党派,有斗争,这是无可否认的.在本浦聂格尔,政治气氛很浓,各党派里面的仇恨也很深.一党是斯脱伦浦夫派,由我们的公使支持,一党是莱特伦派,由法国的代理公使特.马加卜先生撑腰.只要英国的公使夸奖了斯脱伦浦夫夫人......谁也听得出来,她的确比她敌手莱特伦夫人唱得好,比她唱高三个音符呢......我刚才说,我们这边的公使无论说什么话,法国的外交家便立刻出来反对.
    城里的人不属于这一党,便属于那一党.那个姓莱特伦的女人个儿很矮小,的确长得不难看,她的声音虽然不大,倒也还动听.我也承认斯脱伦浦夫太太年纪不小了,风采不如从前,而且实在太胖.譬如在《夜行人》的最后一幕,她穿了长睡衣,手里拿了一盏灯,得从窗子里爬出去,走过磨房里的木板.她费了好大的力气才勉强挤出窗口,而且木板总给她压得往下直弯,吱娄娄的直响.可是在最后一节里她唱的多么洪亮!她向埃尔维诺怀里扑过去的时候感情多么丰富!拥抱得又热烈,差点儿把他闷个半死!而莱特伦那女人呢......这种琐琐碎碎的话还是不说了吧.事情是这样的,这两个女人等于本浦聂格尔国里英派和法派的两面旗帜,上层社会也按照对于这两大国家的忠顺而分为亲英亲法两党.
    在我们这一边,有内务部长,掌马官,公爵的机要秘书,小公爵的教师.至于外交部长,总指挥的太太,宫廷司礼官夫妇俩,却是法国派.总指挥以前曾在拿破仑手下当过差,司礼官的太太呢,对于巴黎的时装十分向往;她的帽子时髦得很,都是特.马加卜先生的当差代她置办的.法国大使馆的秘书是个矮小的格里涅克人,年纪很轻.他跟魔鬼一般刁,在本地所有的宾客题词簿里都画上铁泼窝姆的讽刺画.
    他们的大本营就是本镇另一个客店巴黎旅馆,大家都在那里吃饭.英法两派的人当面虽然客气,可是老是说俏皮话彼此挖苦,说的话像剃刀一般锋利.那样子真像从前我在德芬郡见过的两个摔角的力士;他们用力抽打彼此的胫骨,虽然痛得紧,可是脸上的表情一丝儿不变.铁泼窝姆和马加卜每次向政府递送公文,总要奋力攻击对手.警如说,我们这边说:"法国公使如果继续在此地任职,势必影响大不列颠帝国在本浦聂格尔以及德国全部的利益.这人毫无廉耻,不惜捏造诳骗,利用最阴险的手段达到目的.他曾经屡次在宫廷中散播谣言,中伤我国公使,侮蔑我国政府,和此间某部长狼狈为奸.某部长才陋识浅,家境贫困,确是人所共知,然而在本国势力极大,"等等.他们那边却这样说:"特.铁泼窝姆公使具有岛国人特有的专横和愚昧,对于最伟大的法国横加毁谤.据说他昨日谈起杜.蓓利公爵夫人,口吻极其轻蔑,又曾经侮辱英勇的昂古莱姆公爵,甚而至于胆敢暗示奥里昂公爵谋为不轨,企图篡夺皇位.他惯能利用各种手段在宫中树立党羽,威胁不成,继之以利诱.受他收买或威逼而依附在他左右的走狗不在少数.这种阴险恶毒的小人一日不去,非但本浦聂格尔不得安宁,德国不得平静,法国的威望,全欧的和睦空气,也必定受到破坏."两边都是这一类的话.随便哪一面写了一份特别尖刻的报告书,消息准会漏出来.
    冬天到了不久,爱米竟也请起晚饭来了.她做主妇的时候,举止既得体又谦虚.她请了一个教法文的先生,这人夸奖她发音准确,学得又快.原来很早以前她就自修过法文文法,为的是好教给乔治.斯脱伦浦夫太太特地来教她唱歌.她的成绩出众,声音也准.少佐就住在她对面那首相公馆的底下一层,常常在她上课的时候开了窗子听唱.有些德国的太太天生多情,心地又老实,见了她满心喜欢,和她认识不久,说话的时候便用最亲昵的称呼.这些虽是小事情,可是都和那一段好时光有关系.少佐自愿做乔治的老师,教他读凯撒(凯撒(Ｊｕｌｉｕｓ　Ｃａｅｓａｒ,公元前１００—４０)罗马的大将.政治家兼作家.)的文章和做算术.他们还请了一个德文教师.到傍晚,少佐和乔治骑着马跟在爱米的马车旁边出去散心.爱米胆子太小,骑马的稍为骑得不稳一些,她就怕得叫喊起来.她的马车里常有个把亲爱的德国朋友陪着她,乔斯坐在倒座上打盹.
    他对于法尼.特.白塔勃罗伯爵小姐很有意思.法尼是个温柔天真的姑娘,是女牧师会会员,真正的伯爵府上的千金,可是一年的收入不到十镑.她表示能做爱米丽亚的嫂子真是上天所能赐给她的最大的福气.乔斯在马车和刀叉上本来都有自己的纹章,如今他很有机会在他自己的纹章旁边再加一个伯爵的家徽和冠冕了,哪知道偏偏又发生了别的事情.那时正当本浦聂格尔的小公爵和汉堡施里本施洛本的美貌的哀密莉亚公主结婚,国内有大庆祝.
    为了这次喜事,德国的小公国铺张得十分阔绰.自从浪费的奥里利斯十四死后,还没见过这样的排场.附近的王子.公主.贵人,都给请来吃喜酒.在本浦聂格尔,旅馆里床位的租费涨到五先令一夜.军队得供应卫兵,护卫各位王公大人,人数简直不够分配.结婚仪式是在公主娘家举行的,小公爵本人没有去,由施乐塞尔巴克伯爵代表.宫里定做了许多鼻烟壶,送给客人做纪念品(据那些专替宫里当差的珠宝商人说,他们先把这批鼻烟壶卖给宫里,过后又从客人手里买回来);又颁发了无数的圣麦格尔勋章给各位贵人.我们的使馆得了许许多多施里本施洛本的圣加德林纺车式的宝星和绶带.法国的公使却是两种勋章都得了.铁泼窝姆按照国内规定,不能接受任何勋章,批评法国公使说:"他呀,满身挂满了缎带,仿佛是一匹拉车的马刚在赛会里得了奖.让他挂着绶带吧.咱们瞧瞧胜利是谁的?"事实上,这次是英国外交上的成功.法派用尽心计想叫公爵和波兹泰乌生.唐纳维脱一族缔婚.我们这边当然反对.
    人人都给请去参加婚礼.沿路扎起了牌楼,挂着花环,欢迎年轻的新娘来临.圣麦格尔的大喷泉喷出特别浓的酸酒,炮队广场的喷泉喷的是啤酒.宫里的大喷泉也都开了.花园里场地上竖起许多竿子,顶上用粉红缎带系着表.银叉.大香肠等等,专为讨好快乐的乡下人,让他们随时爬上去得奖品.乔治也得了一件;他一直爬到顶上把它拉下来,旁边的闲人看得很高兴.奖品到手之后,他直滑下来,像瀑布倾泻得一样快.可是得奖在他不过是个彩头儿,转手就把香肠送给旁边一个乡下人.这人也爬过高竿儿,只差一点就能抓住香肠.后来因为没有成功,伤心得站在底下呜呜咽咽的哭.
    法国使馆比我们的使馆多点了六盏彩灯,可是我们的透明画儿可把他们的比下去了.画上是一对年轻夫妇并肩而行,挑拨离间的坏仙人只得飞去.坏仙人的相貌活像法国公使,真是滑稽.铁泼窝姆后来升了一级,又得到十字勋章,我看准是为了这次的功劳.
    一群群的外国人都来观礼,里面当然也有英国人.除了宫廷主持的舞会,在市政厅和跳舞厅里也有跳舞会.在市政厅里还特辟一间赌场,里面有轮盘赌和纸牌戏.由爱姆斯或爱克斯.拉.夏贝尔地方的德国大赌场来主持,在喜事前后一星期中开赌.军官和本地的居民是不准赌博的;凡是外国人.乡下人.女人,只要愿意赌输赢,就可以进去.
    乔杰.奥斯本这个不长进的小东西,口袋里有的是钱,长辈们又都进宫祝贺去了,便跟着舅舅的向导基希先生到市政厅的跳舞会里去玩.他以前只在巴登巴登的赌场外面向里看了一眼.那时都宾牵着他,当然不准他赌钱.所以这一回他急煎煎的跑进赌场,在几张桌子旁边打转,瞧那些庄家和赌客赌钱.赌客里面也有女的,有些戴着面罩.在狂欢的时候,准许这种特别的自由.
    有一个淡黄头发的女人,穿着一件袒胸露臂的衣服,衣服上一层污光.她戴着一个黑面罩,眼睛在小孔后面闪闪发光,样子很古怪.她坐在轮盘赌的赌台旁边,手里拿着一张纸板和一枚针,前面搁着一两个金洋.庄家叫出赢家的颜色和号码,她就把针在纸板上扎洞,扎的又细心又有规律,每到红的或是黑的筹码转出来一定的次数之后,她才把自己的钱押上去.她这人真古怪.
    她虽然细心耐烦,可是常常猜错.庄家冷酷无情的声音唱出什么颜色什么号码押中,结果她的最后的两个金洋也给庄家的耙子抓了过去.她叹了一口气,耸一耸露在衣服外面的肩膀,把针戳进纸板,往桌上一扔,坐下来把手指在桌上敲打着.她回头看看周围,一眼瞧见乔治天真的脸儿.他正瞧得出神呢,这小无赖!他怎么可以到那种地方去呢?
    她一见孩子,眼睛放光,从面罩的小洞后面紧瞧着他,用法文说:"先生,您没赌过钱?"
    孩子答道:"没有,太太."虽然他说的也是法文,那女的一定是从他的口音里面辨出他是哪一国来的.她用稍微有些外国口气的英文说:"你从来没有赌过钱......你肯帮我一个小忙吗?"
    乔杰的脸又红了一红,问道:"什么事?"那时基希先生正在注意红黑筹码,不留心他的小少爷.
    "请你替我押一盘.随便你把钱押在什么号码上面都行."说着,她从胸口掏出一只钱袋,从钱袋里摸出唯一的金洋塞在乔杰手里.孩子笑着,照她的话把钱押上去,那号码果然中了.据说初上手赌博的人手气一定好,因为有赌神帮助.
    她伸手拿了钱,说道:"多谢,多谢.你叫什么名字?"
    乔杰答道:"我叫奥斯本."他一面说话,一面在口袋里摸出钱来,也预备尝试一下.正在这时候,少佐和乔斯来了.少佐穿了制服,乔斯打扮得像个公爵,两人刚离了宫里的跳舞会.有些人觉得宫里的跳舞会太沉闷,宁愿到市政厅来,老早先走了.大约少佐和乔斯回到家里,发现孩子不在家,才出来找他.少佐立刻走到他面前,拉住他的肩膀,很快的把他从引诱人堕落的赌台旁边拖开去.他回头一看,发现基希像我刚才说的,正在赌钱,便走上去,责问他怎敢把乔治少爷带到这种地方来.
    基希先生喝了酒,又在赌钱,因此兴奋得失常,回答道:"别管我的事.一个人总得玩儿玩儿,妈的.我又不是您雇来的."
    少佐见他这种样子,不愿意多说,拉了乔杰就走,一面问乔斯要不要一同回家.乔斯站在戴面罩的女人旁边瞧得有趣.那时那个女人的赌运相当的好.
    少佐问道:"乔斯,跟我和乔治一块儿回家吧."
    乔斯答道:"我再等一会儿,跟基希那混蛋一起回去."都宾觉得在孩子面前应该存个体面,不愿意和乔斯争论,转身带了乔治走回家去.
    他们出了门一路回去的时候,少佐问孩子说:"你赌钱没有?"孩子回说没有.
    "我要你拿名誉做保证,答应我永远不赌钱."
    孩子道:"为什么呢?瞧着怪好玩的."少佐施展口才向他解释为什么不能赌博,说的话着实动听.他很想引用乔杰父亲的榜样来向他证明赌博的害处,可是不肯污了朋友身后的名誉,忍住了没有说.他把孩子送到家以后,自己也就回家睡觉,眼看着孩子的窗口熄了灯光.乔杰的小房间就在爱米丽亚的房间隔壁;再过半小时,爱米丽亚也关灯安息了.不知道少佐怎么会把时间算计得那么精确.
    乔斯仍旧逗留在赌台旁边.他并不爱赌,可是难得来一下刺激刺激,也不反对.他那绣花的礼服背心口袋里反正有好几个拿破仑大金洋在叮当作响.他把手伸过前面那小女人漂亮的肩膀,在同一个号码上押下一个金钱,两个人都赢了.她往旁边挪了一挪,让出地位给他,又把自己的长裙从身旁的空椅子上移开,说道:"请你坐下来,借点儿好运气给我."她的口音仍旧有些外国腔.刚才乔杰替她赢了一注钱,她说的"多谢"却是纯粹道地的英国话,和现在的口音不同.大胖子四面看看,恐怕有爵位的人瞧见他,然后坐下轻轻说道:"啊,嗳,好吧,老天保佑我的灵魂吧.我运气很好,一定能带好运给你."接下去又说了些语无伦次的奉承话.
    外国腔的面罩问道:"你的输赢大吗?"
    乔斯神气活现,丢下一块金洋说:"一两个拿破仑一次."
    面罩顽顽皮皮的说:"嗳,等于饭后打一个盹儿罢哩(拿破仑金洋的简写是Ｎａｐ,打瞌睡也是Ｎａｐ.)."她看见乔斯有点儿心慌,接下去用好听的法国口音说道:"你的目的不在赢钱.我的目的也不在赢钱.我想借赌来麻木自己,好忘掉过去的事,可是没有用.先生,从前的事我忘不了.你的小外甥长得活脱儿像他爸爸.你没有变......不,你变了.人人都变了,人人都忘了往事.没有一个人有心肝."
    乔斯慌的说道:"老天哪!你是谁呢?"
    "乔瑟夫.赛特笠,你难道猜不出?"那小女人的声音很凄惨,她脱下面罩,瞧着乔斯说:"你不记得我了."
    乔斯倒抽一口气,说道:"老天爷!你是克劳莱太太!"
    那女人把手按着他的手说:"就是利蓓加."她虽然一直瞧着乔斯,可是并没有和赌台上的动静脱节.
    她接下去说:"我住在大象旅社.你只要找特.罗登太太就行.今天我看见亲爱的爱米丽亚.她真漂亮,样子也快乐.你也是一样!除了我,人人都快乐.我真命苦啊,乔瑟夫.赛特笠."她的手一动,有意无意地把自己的钱从红筹码上移到黑筹码上,一手还拿着一块手帕擦抹眼睛,手帕上的花边已经是破破烂烂的了.这次转出来的是红筹码,她的一堆钱输得精光.她说:"来吧,陪我一会儿.咱们是老朋友,对不对,亲爱的赛特笠先生?"
    那时基希输得两手空空,便跟着主人走出来.外面有月亮,所有的彩灯闪闪烁烁,渐渐灭了,我们公使馆门前的透明图画也已经差不多看不见了.

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

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CHAPTER LXIV
A Vagabond Chapter
We must pass over a part of Mrs. Rebecca Crawley's biography with that lightness and delicacy which the world demands--the moral world, that has, perhaps, no particular objection to vice, but an insuperable repugnance to hearing vice called by its proper name. There are things we do and know perfectly well in Vanity Fair, though we never speak of them: as the Ahrimanians worship the devil, but don't mention him: and a polite public will no more bear to read an authentic description of vice than a truly refined English or American female will permit the word breeches to be pronounced in her chaste hearing. And yet, madam, both are walking the world before our faces every day, without much shocking us. If you were to blush every time they went by, what complexions you would have! It is only when their naughty names are called out that your modesty has any occasion to show alarm or sense of outrage, and it has been the wish of the present writer, all through this story, deferentially to submit to the fashion at present prevailing, and only to hint at the existence of wickedness in a light, easy, and agreeable manner, so that nobody's fine feelings may be offended. I defy any one to say that our Becky, who has certainly some vices, has not been presented to the public in a perfectly genteel and inoffensive manner. In describing this Siren, singing and smiling, coaxing and cajoling, the author, with modest pride, asks his readers all round, has he once forgotten the laws of politeness, and showed the monster's hideous tail above water? No! Those who like may peep down under waves that are pretty transparent and see it writhing and twirling, diabolically hideous and slimy, flapping amongst bones, or curling round corpses; but above the waterline, I ask, has not everything been proper, agreeable, and decorous, and has any the most squeamish immoralist in Vanity Fair a right to cry fie? When, however, the Siren disappears and dives below, down among the dead men, the water of course grows turbid over her, and it is labour lost to look into it ever so curiously. They look pretty enough when they sit upon a rock, twanging their harps and combing their hair, and sing, and beckon to you to come and hold the looking-glass; but when they sink into their native element, depend on it, those mermaids are about no good, and we had best not examine the fiendish marine cannibals, revelling and feasting on their wretched pickled victims. And so, when Becky is out of the way, be sure that she is not particularly well employed, and that the less that is said about her doings is in fact the better.
If we were to give a full account of her proceedings during a couple of years that followed after the Curzon Street catastrophe, there might be some reason for people to say this book was improper. The actions of very vain, heartless, pleasure-seeking people are very often improper (as are many of yours, my friend with the grave face and spotless reputation--but that is merely by the way); and what are those of a woman without faith--or love--or character? And I am inclined to think that there was a period in Mrs Becky's life when she was seized, not by remorse, but by a kind of despair, and absolutely neglected her person and did not even care for her reputation.
This abattement and degradation did not take place all at once; it was brought about by degrees, after her calamity, and after many struggles to keep up--as a man who goes overboard hangs on to a spar whilst any hope is left, and then flings it away and goes down, when he finds that struggling is in vain.
She lingered about London whilst her husband was making preparations for his departure to his seat of government, and it is believed made more than one attempt to see her brother-in-law, Sir Pitt Crawley, and to work upon his feelings, which she had almost enlisted in her favour. As Sir Pitt and Mr. Wenham were walking down to the House of Commons, the latter spied Mrs. Rawdon in a black veil, and lurking near the palace of the legislature. She sneaked away when her eyes met those of Wenham, and indeed never succeeded in her designs upon the Baronet.
Probably Lady Jane interposed. I have heard that she quite astonished her husband by the spirit which she exhibited in this quarrel, and her determination to disown Mrs. Becky. Of her own movement, she invited Rawdon to come and stop in Gaunt Street until his departure for Coventry Island, knowing that with him for a guard Mrs. Becky would not try to force her door; and she looked curiously at the superscriptions of all the letters which arrived for Sir Pitt, lest he and his sister-in-law should be corresponding. Not but that Rebecca could have written had she a mind, but she did not try to see or to write to Pitt at his own house, and after one or two attempts consented to his demand that the correspondence regarding her conjugal differences should be carried on by lawyers only.
The fact was that Pitt's mind had been poisoned against her. A short time after Lord Steyne's accident Wenham had been with the Baronet and given him such a biography of Mrs. Becky as had astonished the member for Queen's Crawley. He knew everything regarding her: who her father was; in what year her mother danced at the opera; what had been her previous history; and what her conduct during her married life--as I have no doubt that the greater part of the story was false and dictated by interested malevolence, it shall not be repeated here. But Becky was left with a sad sad reputation in the esteem of a country gentleman and relative who had been once rather partial to her.
The revenues of the Governor of Coventry Island are not large. A part of them were set aside by his Excellency for the payment of certain outstanding debts and liabilities, the charges incident on his high situation required considerable expense; finally, it was found that he could not spare to his wife more than three hundred pounds a year, which he proposed to pay to her on an undertaking that she would never trouble him. Otherwise, scandal, separation, Doctors' Commons would ensue. But it was Mr. Wenham's business, Lord Steyne's business, Rawdon's, everybody's--to get her out of the country, and hush up a most disagreeable affair.
She was probably so much occupied in arranging these affairs of business with her husband's lawyers that she forgot to take any step whatever about her son, the little Rawdon, and did not even once propose to go and see him. That young gentleman was consigned to the entire guardianship of his aunt and uncle, the former of whom had always possessed a great share of the child's affection. His mamma wrote him a neat letter from Boulogne, when she quitted England, in which she requested him to mind his book, and said she was going to take a Continental tour, during which she would have the pleasure of writing to him again. But she never did for a year afterwards, and not, indeed, until Sir Pitt's only boy, always sickly, died of hooping-cough and measles--then Rawdon's mamma wrote the most affectionate composition to her darling son, who was made heir of Queen's Crawley by this accident, and drawn more closely than ever to the kind lady, whose tender heart had already adopted him. Rawdon Crawley, then grown a tall, fine lad, blushed when he got the letter. "Oh, Aunt Jane, you are my mother!" he said; "and not--and not that one." But he wrote back a kind and respectful letter to Mrs. Rebecca, then living at a boarding-house at Florence. But we are advancing matters.
Our darling Becky's first flight was not very far. She perched upon the French coast at Boulogne, that refuge of so much exiled English innocence, and there lived in rather a genteel, widowed manner, with a femme de chambre and a couple of rooms, at an hotel. She dined at the table d'hote, where people thought her very pleasant, and where she entertained her neighbours by stories of her brother, Sir Pitt, and her great London acquaintance, talking that easy, fashionable slip-slop which has so much effect upon certain folks of small breeding. She passed with many of them for a person of importance; she gave little tea-parties in her private room and shared in the innocent amusements of the place in sea-bathing, and in jaunts in open carriages, in strolls on the sands, and in visits to the play. Mrs. Burjoice, the printer's lady, who was boarding with her family at the hotel for the summer, and to whom her Burjoice came of a Saturday and Sunday, voted her charming, until that little rogue of a Burjoice began to pay her too much attention. But there was nothing in the story, only that Becky was always affable, easy, and good-natured--and with men especially.
Numbers of people were going abroad as usual at the end of the season, and Becky had plenty of opportunities of finding out by the behaviour of her acquaintances of the great London world the opinion of "society" as regarded her conduct. One day it was Lady Partlet and her daughters whom Becky confronted as she was walking modestly on Boulogne pier, the cliffs of Albion shining in the distance across the deep blue sea. Lady Partlet marshalled all her daughters round her with a sweep of her parasol and retreated from the pier, darting savage glances at poor little Becky who stood alone there.
On another day the packet came in. It had been blowing fresh, and it always suited Becky's humour to see the droll woe-begone faces of the people as they emerged from the boat. Lady Slingstone happened to be on board this day. Her ladyship had been exceedingly ill in her carriage, and was greatly exhausted and scarcely fit to walk up the plank from the ship to the pier. But all her energies rallied the instant she saw Becky smiling roguishly under a pink bonnet, and giving her a glance of scorn such as would have shrivelled up most women, she walked into the Custom House quite unsupported. Becky only laughed: but I don't think she liked it. She felt she was alone, quite alone, and the far-off shining cliffs of England were impassable to her.
The behaviour of the men had undergone too I don't know what change. Grinstone showed his teeth and laughed in her face with a familiarity that was not pleasant. Little Bob Suckling, who was cap in hand to her three months before, and would walk a mile in the rain to see for her carriage in the line at Gaunt House, was talking to Fitzoof of the Guards (Lord Heehaw's son) one day upon the jetty, as Becky took her walk there. Little Bobby nodded to her over his shoulder, without moving his hat, and continued his conversation with the heir of Heehaw. Tom Raikes tried to walk into her sitting- room at the inn with a cigar in his mouth, but she closed the door upon him, and would have locked it, only that his fingers were inside. She began to feel that she was very lonely indeed. "If HE'D been here," she said, "those cowards would never have dared to insult me." She thought about "him" with great sadness and perhaps longing--about his honest, stupid, constant kindness and fidelity; his never-ceasing obedience; his good humour; his bravery and courage. Very likely she cried, for she was particularly lively, and had put on a little extra rouge, when she came down to dinner.
She rouged regularly now; and--and her maid got Cognac for her besides that which was charged in the hotel bill.
Perhaps the insults of the men were not, however, so intolerable to her as the sympathy of certain women. Mrs. Crackenbury and Mrs. Washington White passed through Boulogne on their way to Switzerland. The party were protected by Colonel Horner, young Beaumoris, and of course old Crackenbury, and Mrs. White's little girl. THEY did not avoid her. They giggled, cackled, tattled, condoled, consoled, and patronized her until they drove her almost wild with rage. To be patronized by THEM! she thought, as they went away simpering after kissing her. And she heard Beaumoris's laugh ringing on the stair and knew quite well how to interpret his hilarity.
It was after this visit that Becky, who had paid her weekly bills, Becky who had made herself agreeable to everybody in the house, who smiled at the landlady, called the waiters "monsieur," and paid the chambermaids in politeness and apologies, what far more than compensated for a little niggardliness in point of money (of which Becky never was free), that Becky, we say, received a notice to quit from the landlord, who had been told by some one that she was quite an unfit person to have at his hotel, where English ladies would not sit down with her. And she was forced to fly into lodgings of which the dulness and solitude were most wearisome to her.
Still she held up, in spite of these rebuffs, and tried to make a character for herself and conquer scandal. She went to church very regularly and sang louder than anybody there. She took up the cause of the widows of the shipwrecked fishermen, and gave work and drawings for the Quashyboo Mission; she subscribed to the Assembly and WOULDN'T waltz. In a word, she did everything that was respectable, and that is why we dwell upon this part of her career with more fondness than upon subsequent parts of her history, which are not so pleasant. She saw people avoiding her, and still laboriously smiled upon them; you never could suppose from her countenance what pangs of humiliation she might be enduring inwardly.
Her history was after all a mystery. Parties were divided about her. Some people who took the trouble to busy themselves in the matter said that she was the criminal, whilst others vowed that she was as innocent as a lamb and that her odious husband was in fault. She won over a good many by bursting into tears about her boy and exhibiting the most frantic grief when his name was mentioned, or she saw anybody like him. She gained good Mrs. Alderney's heart in that way, who was rather the Queen of British Boulogne and gave the most dinners and balls of all the residents there, by weeping when Master Alderney came from Dr. Swishtail's academy to pass his holidays with his mother. "He and her Rawdon were of the same age, and so like," Becky said in a voice choking with agony; whereas there was five years' difference between the boys' ages, and no more likeness between them than between my respected reader and his humble servant. Wenham, when he was going abroad, on his way to Kissingen to join Lord Steyne, enlightened Mrs. Alderney on this point and told her how he was much more able to describe little Rawdon than his mamma, who notoriously hated him and never saw him; how he was thirteen years old, while little Alderney was but nine, fair, while the other darling was dark--in a word, caused the lady in question to repent of her good humour.
Whenever Becky made a little circle for herself with incredible toils and labour, somebody came and swept it down rudely, and she had all her work to begin over again. It was very hard; very hard; lonely and disheartening.
There was Mrs. Newbright, who took her up for some time, attracted by the sweetness of her singing at church and by her proper views upon serious subjects, concerning which in former days, at Queen's Crawley, Mrs. Becky had had a good deal of instruction. Well, she not only took tracts, but she read them. She worked flannel petticoats for the Quashyboos--cotton night-caps for the Cocoanut Indians--painted handscreens for the conversion of the Pope and the Jews--sat under Mr. Rowls on Wednesdays, Mr. Huggleton on Thursdays, attended two Sunday services at church, besides Mr. Bawler, the Darbyite, in the evening, and all in vain. Mrs. Newbright had occasion to correspond with the Countess of Southdown about the Warmingpan Fund for the Fiji Islanders (for the management of which admirable charity both these ladies formed part of a female committee), and having mentioned her "sweet friend," Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, the Dowager Countess wrote back such a letter regarding Becky, with such particulars, hints, facts, falsehoods, and general comminations, that intimacy between Mrs. Newbright and Mrs. Crawley ceased forthwith, and all the serious world of Tours, where this misfortune took place, immediately parted company with the reprobate. Those who know the English Colonies abroad know that we carry with us us our pride, pills, prejudices, Harvey-sauces, cayenne-peppers, and other Lares, making a little Britain wherever we settle down.
From one colony to another Becky fled uneasily. From Boulogne to Dieppe, from Dieppe to Caen, from Caen to Tours--trying with all her might to be respectable, and alas! always found out some day or other and pecked out of the cage by the real daws.
Mrs. Hook Eagles took her up at one of these places--a woman without a blemish in her character and a house in Portman Square. She was staying at the hotel at Dieppe, whither Becky fled, and they made each other's acquaintance first at sea, where they were swimming together, and subsequently at the table d'hote of the hotel. Mrs Eagles had heard--who indeed had not?--some of the scandal of the Steyne affair; but after a conversation with Becky, she pronounced that Mrs. Crawley was an angel, her husband a ruffian, Lord Steyne an unprincipled wretch, as everybody knew, and the whole case against Mrs. Crawley an infamous and wicked conspiracy of that rascal Wenham. "If you were a man of any spirit, Mr. Eagles, you would box the wretch's ears the next time you see him at the Club," she said to her husband. But Eagles was only a quiet old gentleman, husband to Mrs. Eagles, with a taste for geology, and not tall enough to reach anybody's ears.
The Eagles then patronized Mrs. Rawdon, took her to live with her at her own house at Paris, quarrelled with the ambassador's wife because she would not receive her protegee, and did all that lay in woman's power to keep Becky straight in the paths of virtue and good repute.
Becky was very respectable and orderly at first, but the life of humdrum virtue grew utterly tedious to her before long. It was the same routine every day, the same dulness and comfort, the same drive over the same stupid Bois de Boulogne, the same company of an evening, the same Blair's Sermon of a Sunday night--the same opera always being acted over and over again; Becky was dying of weariness, when, luckily for her, young Mr. Eagles came from Cambridge, and his mother, seeing the impression which her little friend made upon him, straightway gave Becky warning.
Then she tried keeping house with a female friend; then the double menage began to quarrel and get into debt. Then she determined upon a boarding-house existence and lived for some time at that famous mansion kept by Madame de Saint Amour, in the Rue Royale, at Paris, where she began exercising her graces and fascinations upon the shabby dandies and fly-blown beauties who frequented her landlady's salons. Becky loved society and, indeed, could no more exist without it than an opium-eater without his dram, and she was happy enough at the period of her boarding-house life. "The women here are as amusing as those in May Fair," she told an old London friend who met her, "only, their dresses are not quite so fresh. The men wear cleaned gloves, and are sad rogues, certainly, but they are not worse than Jack This and Tom That. The mistress of the house is a little vulgar, but I don't think she is so vulgar as Lady ------" and here she named the name of a great leader of fashion that I would die rather than reveal. In fact, when you saw Madame de Saint Amour's rooms lighted up of a night, men with plaques and cordons at the ecarte tables, and the women at a little distance, you might fancy yourself for a while in good society, and that Madame was a real Countess. Many people did so fancy, and Becky was for a while one of the most dashing ladies of the Countess's salons.
But it is probable that her old creditors of 1815 found her out and caused her to leave Paris, for the poor little woman was forced to fly from the city rather suddenly, and went thence to Brussels.
How well she remembered the place! She grinned as she looked up at the little entresol which she had occupied, and thought of the Bareacres family, bawling for horses and flight, as their carriage stood in the porte-cochere of the hotel. She went to Waterloo and to Laeken, where George Osborne's monument much struck her. She made a little sketch of it. "That poor Cupid!" she said; "how dreadfully he was in love with me, and what a fool he was! I wonder whether little Emmy is alive. It was a good little creature; and that fat brother of hers. I have his funny fat picture still among my papers. They were kind simple people."
At Brussels Becky arrived, recommended by Madame de Saint Amour to her friend, Madame la Comtesse de Borodino, widow of Napoleon's General, the famous Count de Borodino, who was left with no resource by the deceased hero but that of a table d'hote and an ecarte table. Second-rate dandies and roues, widow-ladies who always have a lawsuit, and very simple English folks, who fancy they see "Continental society" at these houses, put down their money, or ate their meals, at Madame de Borodino's tables. The gallant young fellows treated the company round to champagne at the table d'hote, rode out with the women, or hired horses on country excursions, clubbed money to take boxes at the play or the opera, betted over the fair shoulders of the ladies at the ecarte tables, and wrote home to their parents in Devonshire about their felicitous introduction to foreign society.
Here, as at Paris, Becky was a boarding-house queen, and ruled in select pensions. She never refused the champagne, or the bouquets, or the drives into the country, or the private boxes; but what she preferred was the ecarte at night,--and she played audaciously. First she played only for a little, then for five-franc pieces, then for Napoleons, then for notes: then she would not be able to pay her month's pension: then she borrowed from the young gentlemen: then she got into cash again and bullied Madame de Borodino, whom she had coaxed and wheedled before: then she was playing for ten sous at a time, and in a dire state of poverty: then her quarter's allowance would come in, and she would pay off Madame de Borodino's score and would once more take the cards against Monsieur de Rossignol, or the Chevalier de Raff.
When Becky left Brussels, the sad truth is that she owed three months' pension to Madame de Borodino, of which fact, and of the gambling, and of the drinking, and of the going down on her knees to the Reverend Mr. Muff, Ministre Anglican, and borrowing money of him, and of her coaxing and flirting with Milor Noodle, son of Sir Noodle, pupil of the Rev. Mr. Muff, whom she used to take into her private room, and of whom she won large sums at ecarte--of which fact, I say, and of a hundred of her other knaveries, the Countess de Borodino informs every English person who stops at her establishment, and announces that Madame Rawdon was no better than a vipere.
So our little wanderer went about setting up her tent in various cities of Europe, as restless as Ulysses or Bampfylde Moore Carew. Her taste for disrespectability grew more and more remarkable. She became a perfect Bohemian ere long, herding with people whom it would make your hair stand on end to meet.
There is no town of any mark in Europe but it has its little colony of English raffs--men whose names Mr. Hemp the officer reads out periodically at the Sheriffs' Court--young gentlemen of very good family often, only that the latter disowns them; frequenters of billiard-rooms and estaminets, patrons of foreign races and gaming- tables. They people the debtors' prisons--they drink and swagger-- they fight and brawl--they run away without paying--they have duels with French and German officers--they cheat Mr. Spooney at ecarte-- they get the money and drive off to Baden in magnificent britzkas-- they try their infallible martingale and lurk about the tables with empty pockets, shabby bullies, penniless bucks, until they can swindle a Jew banker with a sham bill of exchange, or find another Mr. Spooney to rob. The alternations of splendour and misery which these people undergo are very queer to view. Their life must be one of great excitement. Becky--must it be owned?--took to this life, and took to it not unkindly. She went about from town to town among these Bohemians. The lucky Mrs. Rawdon was known at every play- table in Germany. She and Madame de Cruchecassee kept house at Florence together. It is said she was ordered out of Munich, and my friend Mr. Frederick Pigeon avers that it was at her house at Lausanne that he was hocussed at supper and lost eight hundred pounds to Major Loder and the Honourable Mr. Deuceace. We are bound, you see, to give some account of Becky's biography, but of this part, the less, perhaps, that is said the better.
They say that, when Mrs. Crawley was particularly down on her luck, she gave concerts and lessons in music here and there. There was a Madame de Raudon, who certainly had a matinee musicale at Wildbad, accompanied by Herr Spoff, premier pianist to the Hospodar of Wallachia, and my little friend Mr. Eaves, who knew everybody and had travelled everywhere, always used to declare that he was at Strasburg in the year 1830, when a certain Madame Rebecque made her appearance in the opera of the Dame Blanche, giving occasion to a furious row in the theatre there. She was hissed off the stage by the audience, partly from her own incompetency, but chiefly from the ill-advised sympathy of some persons in the parquet, (where the officers of the garrison had their admissions); and Eaves was certain that the unfortunate debutante in question was no other than Mrs. Rawdon Crawley.
She was, in fact, no better than a vagabond upon this earth. When she got her money she gambled; when she had gambled it she was put to shifts to live; who knows how or by what means she succeeded? It is said that she was once seen at St. Petersburg, but was summarily dismissed from that capital by the police, so that there cannot be any possibility of truth in the report that she was a Russian spy at Toplitz and Vienna afterwards. I have even been informed that at Paris she discovered a relation of her own, no less a person than her maternal grandmother, who was not by any means a Montmorenci, but a hideous old box-opener at a theatre on the Boulevards. The meeting between them, of which other persons, as it is hinted elsewhere, seem to have been acquainted, must have been a very affecting interview. The present historian can give no certain details regarding the event.
It happened at Rome once that Mrs. de Rawdon's half-year's salary had just been paid into the principal banker's there, and, as everybody who had a balance of above five hundred scudi was invited to the balls which this prince of merchants gave during the winter, Becky had the honour of a card, and appeared at one of the Prince and Princess Polonia's splendid evening entertainments. The Princess was of the family of Pompili, lineally descended from the second king of Rome, and Egeria of the house of Olympus, while the Prince's grandfather, Alessandro Polonia, sold wash-balls, essences, tobacco, and pocket-handkerchiefs, ran errands for gentlemen, and lent money in a small way. All the great company in Rome thronged to his saloons--Princes, Dukes, Ambassadors, artists, fiddlers, monsignori, young bears with their leaders--every rank and condition of man. His halls blazed with light and magnificence; were resplendent with gilt frames (containing pictures), and dubious antiques; and the enormous gilt crown and arms of the princely owner, a gold mushroom on a crimson field (the colour of the pocket-handkerchiefs which he sold), and the silver fountain of the Pompili family shone all over the roof, doors, and panels of the house, and over the grand velvet baldaquins prepared to receive Popes and Emperors.
So Becky, who had arrived in the diligence from Florence, and was lodged at an inn in a very modest way, got a card for Prince Polonia's entertainment, and her maid dressed her with unusual care, and she went to this fine ball leaning on the arm of Major Loder, with whom she happened to be travelling at the time--(the same man who shot Prince Ravoli at Naples the next year, and was caned by Sir John Buckskin for carrying four kings in his hat besides those which he used in playing at ecarte )--and this pair went into the rooms together, and Becky saw a number of old faces which she remembered in happier days, when she was not innocent, but not found out. Major Loder knew a great number of foreigners, keen-looking whiskered men with dirty striped ribbons in their buttonholes, and a very small display of linen; but his own countrymen, it might be remarked, eschewed the Major. Becky, too, knew some ladies here and there--French widows, dubious Italian countesses, whose husbands had treated them ill--faugh--what shall we say, we who have moved among some of the finest company of Vanity Fair, of this refuse and sediment of rascals? If we play, let it be with clean cards, and not with this dirty pack. But every man who has formed one of the innumerable army of travellers has seen these marauding irregulars hanging on, like Nym and Pistol, to the main force, wearing the king's colours and boasting of his commission, but pillaging for themselves, and occasionally gibbeted by the roadside.
Well, she was hanging on the arm of Major Loder, and they went through the rooms together, and drank a great quantity of champagne at the buffet, where the people, and especially the Major's irregular corps, struggled furiously for refreshments, of which when the pair had had enough, they pushed on until they reached the Duchess's own pink velvet saloon, at the end of the suite of apartments (where the statue of the Venus is, and the great Venice looking-glasses, framed in silver), and where the princely family were entertaining their most distinguished guests at a round table at supper. It was just such a little select banquet as that of which Becky recollected that she had partaken at Lord Steyne's--and there he sat at Polonia's table, and she saw him. The scar cut by the diamond on his white, bald, shining forehead made a burning red mark; his red whiskers were dyed of a purple hue, which made his pale face look still paler. He wore his collar and orders, his blue ribbon and garter. He was a greater Prince than any there, though there was a reigning Duke and a Royal Highness, with their princesses, and near his Lordship was seated the beautiful Countess of Belladonna, nee de Glandier, whose husband (the Count Paolo della Belladonna), so well known for his brilliant entomological collections, had been long absent on a mission to the Emperor of Morocco.
When Becky beheld that familiar and illustrious face, how vulgar all of a sudden did Major Loder appear to her, and how that odious Captain Rook did smell of tobacco! In one instant she reassumed her fine-ladyship and tried to look and feel as if she were in May Fair once more. "That woman looks stupid and ill-humoured," she thought; "I am sure she can't amuse him. No, he must be bored by her--he never was by me." A hundred such touching hopes, fears, and memories palpitated in her little heart, as she looked with her brightest eyes (the rouge which she wore up to her eyelids made them twinkle) towards the great nobleman. Of a Star and Garter night Lord Steyne used also to put on his grandest manner and to look and speak like a great prince, as he was. Becky admired him smiling sumptuously, easy, lofty, and stately. Ah, bon Dieu, what a pleasant companion he was, what a brilliant wit, what a rich fund of talk, what a grand manner!--and she had exchanged this for Major Loder, reeking of cigars and brandy-and-water, and Captain Rook with his horsejockey jokes and prize-ring slang, and their like. "I wonder whether he will know me," she thought. Lord Steyne was talking and laughing with a great and illustrious lady at his side, when he looked up and saw Becky.
She was all over in a flutter as their eyes met, and she put on the very best smile she could muster, and dropped him a little, timid, imploring curtsey. He stared aghast at her for a minute, as Macbeth might on beholding Banquo's sudden appearance at his ball-supper, and remained looking at her with open mouth, when that horrid Major Loder pulled her away.
"Come away into the supper-room, Mrs. R.," was that gentleman's remark: "seeing these nobs grubbing away has made me peckish too. Let's go and try the old governor's champagne." Becky thought the Major had had a great deal too much already.
The day after she went to walk on the Pincian Hill--the Hyde Park of the Roman idlers--possibly in hopes to have another sight of Lord Steyne. But she met another acquaintance there: it was Mr. Fiche, his lordship's confidential man, who came up nodding to her rather familiarly and putting a finger to his hat. "I knew that Madame was here," he said; "I followed her from her hotel. I have some advice to give Madame."
"From the Marquis of Steyne?" Becky asked, resuming as much of her dignity as she could muster, and not a little agitated by hope and expectation.
"No," said the valet; "it is from me. Rome is very unwholesome."
"Not at this season, Monsieur Fiche--not till after Easter."
"I tell Madame it is unwholesome now. There is always malaria for some people. That cursed marsh wind kills many at all seasons. Look, Madame Crawley, you were always bon enfant, and I have an interest in you, parole d'honneur. Be warned. Go away from Rome, I tell you--or you will be ill and die."
Becky laughed, though in rage and fury. "What! assassinate poor little me?" she said. "How romantic! Does my lord carry bravos for couriers, and stilettos in the fourgons? Bah! I will stay, if but to plague him. I have those who will defend me whilst I am here."
It was Monsieur Fiche's turn to laugh now. "Defend you," he said, "and who? The Major, the Captain, any one of those gambling men whom Madame sees would take her life for a hundred louis. We know things about Major Loder (he is no more a Major than I am my Lord the Marquis) which would send him to the galleys or worse. We know everything and have friends everywhere. We know whom you saw at Paris, and what relations you found there. Yes, Madame may stare, but we do. How was it that no minister on the Continent would receive Madame? She has offended somebody: who never forgives-- whose rage redoubled when he saw you. He was like a madman last night when he came home. Madame de Belladonna made him a scene about you and fired off in one of her furies."
"Oh, it was Madame de Belladonna, was it?" Becky said, relieved a little, for the information she had just got had scared her.
"No--she does not matter--she is always jealous. I tell you it was Monseigneur. You did wrong to show yourself to him. And if you stay here you will repent it. Mark my words. Go. Here is my lord's carriage"--and seizing Becky's arm, he rushed down an alley of the garden as Lord Steyne's barouche, blazing with heraldic devices, came whirling along the avenue, borne by the almost priceless horses, and bearing Madame de Belladonna lolling on the cushions, dark, sulky, and blooming, a King Charles in her lap, a white parasol swaying over her head, and old Steyne stretched at her side with a livid face and ghastly eyes. Hate, or anger, or desire caused them to brighten now and then still, but ordinarily, they gave no light, and seemed tired of looking out on a world of which almost all the pleasure and all the best beauty had palled upon the worn-out wicked old man.
"Monseigneur has never recovered the shock of that night, never," Monsieur Fiche whispered to Mrs. Crawley as the carriage flashed by, and she peeped out at it from behind the shrubs that hid her. "That was a consolation at any rate," Becky thought.
Whether my lord really had murderous intentions towards Mrs. Becky as Monsieur Fiche said (since Monseigneur's death he has returned to his native country, where he lives much respected, and has purchased from his Prince the title of Baron Ficci), and the factotum objected to have to do with assassination; or whether he simply had a commission to frighten Mrs. Crawley out of a city where his Lordship proposed to pass the winter, and the sight of her would be eminently disagreeable to the great nobleman, is a point which has never been ascertained: but the threat had its effect upon the little woman, and she sought no more to intrude herself upon the presence of her old patron.
Everybody knows the melancholy end of that nobleman, which befell at Naples two months after the French Revolution of 1830; when the Most Honourable George Gustavus, Marquis of Steyne, Earl of Gaunt and of Gaunt Castle, in the Peerage of Ireland, Viscount Hellborough, Baron Pitchley and Grillsby, a Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, of the Golden Fleece of Spain, of the Russian Order of Saint Nicholas of the First Class, of the Turkish Order of the Crescent, First Lord of the Powder Closet and Groom of the Back Stairs, Colonel of the Gaunt or Regent's Own Regiment of Militia, a Trustee of the British Museum, an Elder Brother of the Trinity House, a Governor of the White Friars, and D.C.L.--died after a series of fits brought on, as the papers said, by the shock occasioned to his lordship's sensibilities by the downfall of the ancient French monarchy.
An eloquent catalogue appeared in a weekly print, describing his virtues, his magnificence, his talents, and his good actions. His sensibility, his attachment to the illustrious House of Bourbon, with which he claimed an alliance, were such that he could not survive the misfortunes of his august kinsmen. His body was buried at Naples, and his heart--that heart which always beat with every generous and noble emotion was brought back to Castle Gaunt in a silver urn. "In him," Mr. Wagg said, "the poor and the Fine Arts have lost a beneficent patron, society one of its most brilliant ornaments, and England one of her loftiest patriots and statesmen," &c., &c.
His will was a good deal disputed, and an attempt was made to force from Madame de Belladonna the celebrated jewel called the "Jew's- eye" diamond, which his lordship always wore on his forefinger, and which it was said that she removed from it after his lamented demise. But his confidential friend and attendant, Monsieur Fiche proved that the ring had been presented to the said Madame de Belladonna two days before the Marquis's death, as were the bank- notes, jewels, Neapolitan and French bonds, &c., found in his lordship's secretaire and claimed by his heirs from that injured woman.

第六十四章    流浪生活
    为迁就一般人的意见,我只好把利蓓加.克劳莱太太传记中的一部份轻描淡写一笔带过.道学先生们对于不道德的行为或许能够容忍,可是倘若听得别人直言不讳的议论它,心上总有压不下的嫌恶.在名利场上,有好些事情大家都做,大家都知道,只是口里不说,仿佛波斯教里的阿里马派崇拜魔鬼,却从来不是他的名字.有教养的读者们看到真实可靠的记载,描写堕落的行为,便觉得受不了,等于在英国和美国,高雅的太太小姐们不许人家当她们的面提起"裤子"两字一般.其实呢,太太,咱们天天看见堕落的行为,天天看见裤子,心里一点儿不难受.假如你一看见它们就脸红,你的脸色还像什么样子呢?只有在它们下流的名字给人提起的时候,才需要你表示害怕或是忿怒.本书的作者对于时下的风气十分尊敬,自始至终不敢触犯,只准备以轻松.愉快.随随便便的笔调来描写罪恶,这样,我就不至于冒犯读者们高洁的感情了.我们的蓓基当然有许多品行不端的地方,可是她跟大家见面的时候,总是十分文雅得体的,在这一点上,谁也不能说我不对.我描写这个海上的女妖(根据希腊神话,西西利附近某海岛上有三个善唱的女妖,专以歌声迷惑航海的人,他们听了便会忘怀一切,直到饿死为止.),只说她会唱会笑,会花言巧语的哄人,从来没有失去体统,没有让妖怪把她丑恶的尾巴浮到水面上来,我想所有的读者不得不承认这一点.对于我的手法我倒真是有点儿得意,因为我从来没有犯过这样的错误.好奇的人尽不妨向透明的水波底下张望,瞧着那粘糊糊.奇丑不堪的尾巴扭曲旋转,一会儿扑打着成堆的骸骨,一会儿在死尸身上盘旋.可是在水面以上,一切都很正当,很规矩,叫人瞧着觉得愉快,连名利场上最难说话的道学先生也不能抱怨.这些妖怪钻到水底,在死人堆里游来游去,上面的水当然给她们搅得泥污混浊,你即使要想寻根究底,也看不见底下的情形.她们坐在岩石上,弹着五弦琴,梳着头发,唱着歌儿,招手儿叫你去替她们举着镜子......那时候她们当然美丽得很,可是一到了水底里能够随心所欲的境界里,保管这些人鱼姑娘就不干好事.这些海底的吃人的恶鬼怎么大吃大乐,享受盐渍的死尸,我们还是不看吧!以此类推,蓓基不在我们眼前的时候,准在干坏事,这些事我们也是少说为妙.
    如果我把她在克生街事件发生以后一两年里面的经过细细记载下来,大家准会批评我的书不成体统.凡是爱虚荣.贪享受.没心肝的人,作出来的事多半下流.(我在这里插一句,你们这些板着正经脸儿.外面德高望重的人背地里不也常干下流事吗?)一个没有信仰.没有人格.心如铁石的女人,她的行为当然更不成话.我想,有一段时期,蓓基太太觉得灰心绝望(倒并不是说她追悔从前的过错),对于自己一身完全不加爱惜,甚至于声名清白不清白也不在乎.
    她并不是一下子就堕落到这步田地的.祸事发生以后她几次三番挣扎着想保持本来的体面,可是结果却是逐渐的走下坡路,仿佛落水的人起初还有些希望,拉住桅杆不放,后来发觉挣扎并没有用处,索性放开手沉到水底下去了.
    当初在伦敦,她丈夫忙着准备上任,她也逗留着不走.看来她曾经好几次变着法子想和大伯毕脱.克劳莱爵士见面,因为她本来已经差不多使他同情自己,再用计策打动他的心就能成功.有一回毕脱爵士和威纳姆先生一同走到国会去,威纳姆看见罗登太太戴着黑颜色的面网,躲躲藏藏的站在立法院前面.她和威纳姆面对面看了一眼,悄悄的溜掉了,从此也没有能够利用毕脱爵士.
    大概吉恩夫人也曾经出来干涉过.我听说在那一场争吵发生的时候,她非常强硬,而且坚决和蓓基太太断绝关系,倒是她丈夫没有料到的.她自作主张,在罗登到考文脱莱岛去上任之前把他请到岗脱街来住.她知道有了罗登做保镖,蓓基太太决不敢硬闯进她的家里来.她又怕小婶子私底下和她丈夫通信,把寄给毕脱爵士的信件细细检查,看有没有眼生的字迹.利蓓加倘若有心和大伯通信,当然仍旧有办法,不过她并不打算到毕脱爵士宅子里去见他,写了信也不往他家里寄.她写过一两次信之后,毕脱提议说一切关于他们夫妇间的纠葛,最好由律师传达双方的意见,她也只得答应.
    原来毕脱也听信了别人对她的谗言.斯丹恩勋爵的那件事发生之后不久,威纳姆来见过从男爵.他把蓓基太太的身世淋漓尽致的叙述了一番,使女王的克劳莱选区的代表大吃一惊.关于她的身世,威纳姆什么都知道:她的父亲是什么人,她的母亲在哪一年在歌剧院当舞女,她从前干过什么事,她在结婚以后的行为怎样.我知道这些话大半是和她厉害不同的人恶意中伤,编出来的谎话,这里不必再说.这样,她的大伯,这位乡下绅士,本来那么偏心向着她的,现在也对她完全不相信了.
    考文脱莱的总督收入不算多.他大人留出一部分薪水,把最要紧的债务还清.他的地位重要,有许多花费是免不了的,所以结算下来,一年只能省给太太三百镑.他提出一个条件,要利蓓加从此不去麻烦他,才答应把这笔津贴给她;如果她还要捣乱,就把那不体面的事闹穿,正式和她打官司,离婚.底子里,威纳姆先生的责任就是把她送到外国去,使这件不愉快的事情平息下来.斯丹恩侯爵.罗登和所有别的人,都想打发她上路.
    大概她忙着和丈夫的律师们谈判这些事情,忘了应该怎样处置小罗登.她甚至于没有去看过儿子.这孩子完全由大伯和大娘照管,反正他和大娘的感情本来是很好的.他的妈妈离开英国之后,在波罗涅写了一封措辞简洁的信给他,叫他好好读书,并且说她自己准备上欧洲游览,将来再写信给他.从那时起她一年没有动笔,直到毕脱爵士的独生子死掉以后才写第二封信.那孩子本来身体单弱,后来生百日咳和出痧子死了,这样一来,罗登就成了女王的克劳莱的承继人.慈爱的大娘本来把他像自己的孩子一样疼爱,从此两人的感情更深了一层.这时罗登的妈妈便又给她宝贝的儿子写了一封怪亲热的信.罗登.克劳莱已经长成一个高大强壮的大孩子.他收到了信,脸红起来,说:"吉恩大娘,你才是我妈妈,不是......不是那个人."话是这么说,他仍旧恭恭敬敬的写了一封回信给利蓓加.当时利蓓加住在翡冷翠一家寄宿舍里......不过这些都是后话.
    亲爱的蓓基最初离开本国的时候走得并不远.她先在法国沿海的波罗涅住下来.当地住着好些清白无辜的英国人,都是因为在本国不能安身,才到这里来的.她在旅馆里租了两间房,雇了一个女佣人,仿佛是个守寡的上等女人.她跟着大家吃普通客饭,很能得同桌人的欢心.她对邻居谈起她的大伯毕脱爵士和伦敦的了不起的朋友们.这种时髦场中的无聊琐碎,最能叫那些不见世面的人觉得神往.听了她的话,好多人都以为她是个有地位的人物.她请人家在自己屋里吃吃茶点;当她的正当娱乐,像游泳.坐马车兜风.散步.看戏,她也参加.有一个印刷商人的妻子叫白乔斯太太的,带着一家在当地过夏,星期六星期日,她丈夫白乔斯也在那里歇.白乔斯太太觉得利蓓加很讨人喜欢.那知道后来混帐的白乔斯对她不断的献殷勤,白乔斯太太才改了主意.这件事其实没有什么大不了,蓓基对人向来周到,随和,近人情......对于男人尤其亲热.
    伦敦的热闹季节一过,通常总有许多人从英国到此地来.因此蓓基有不少机会和从前那些了不起的伦敦朋友见面,从他们的行为推测"上流社会"对她的态度.有一天,蓓基在波罗涅的码头上很端庄的散步,隔着又深又蓝的海水,英国的岩石在对岸映着日光发亮.在这儿她碰见派脱莱脱夫人和她的一群女儿.派脱莱脱夫人举起阳伞刷的一挥,把女儿们都聚在身边,转过身来离开码头就走,一面恶狠狠的向蓓基钉了几眼.可怜的小蓓基只好独自一个人站在那里.
    又有一天,一艘邮船从英国开过来.那天风浪很大,蓓基向来爱看乘客们从船上出来的时候那狼狈滑稽的样子.这一回,恰巧斯林斯登夫人在船上.她一路上躺在自己马车里晕船晕得精疲力尽,从跳板走到岸上都觉得很勉强.忽然她一眼看见蓓基戴着粉红帽子,一脸淘气的样子笑嘻嘻的站在那里,浑身的力气登时来了,竟然不用人搀扶,独自一个走到海关里去,一面对蓓基满脸不屑的瞪了一眼.这种眼色,普通的女人是受不住的,蓓基只笑了一笑,不过我想她心里一定也不高兴.她觉得自己无倚无靠,一个亲人也没有.要走过在远处发亮的岩石回到英国,在她是不可能的了.
    男人们的态度也和以前大不相同.葛兰斯登对她笑得呲牙咧嘴,那亲狎的样子看了叫人心里嫌恶.包勃.色克林那小子三个月以前见了她就恭恭敬敬脱下帽子,她在岗脱大厦作客回家的时候,他常常给她当差,在屋子前面排列着的马车里面把她的车子找来,要他在雨里跑上整整一里路也愿意.有一天蓓基在码头上散步,看见包勃正在和希霍勋爵的儿子,禁卫军里的非卓夫谈话.这回他不脱帽子了,只扭过脖子来跟她点了一点头,管自和希霍的嗣子谈话.汤姆.莱克斯口里衔着雪茄烟,要想闯到她旅馆里的起坐间里来,给她关在门外.若不是他的手指夹在门缝里,她一定当时就把门锁上.到这时候她才觉得自己真正是孤单无靠.她想:"如果他在这儿,这些没有胆子的人决不敢欺负我."她想到"他",心里非常难受,说不定还觉得牵挂.他又傻又老实,对蓓基一味忠诚体贴,依头顺脑,而且脾气又好,又有勇气,有肝胆.那天蓓基说不定还哭了一场,因为下楼吃饭的时候她比平常更加活泼,脸上还多搽了一层胭脂.
    现在她天天搽胭脂,而且......而且除了旅馆账单上开着的哥涅克酒以外,她的女佣人还在外边替她另外打酒来喝.
    男人们的侮辱虽然难受,恐怕还不如有些女人的同情那么刺心.克拉根白莱太太和华盛顿.霍爱脱太太到瑞士去,路过波罗涅.同去的有霍纳上校,年轻的包莫里,当然还有克拉根白莱老头儿和霍爱脱太太的小女儿.这两个女人见了她并不躲避.她们笑呀,讲呀,咭咭呱呱,说东话西,一会儿同情她,一会儿安慰她,倚老卖老的,真把她气疯了.她们吻了她,才装腔作势的嘻嘻笑着走掉了.她想:"她们也来对我卖老!"她听见包莫里的笑声从楼梯上传下来,很明白笑声里面含的是什么意思.
    蓓基住在旅馆里每星期付账,对每个人都殷勤和气,向旅馆老板娘微笑,管茶房叫"先生",对女佣人们说话客气,使唤她们做事的时候常常赔个不是,这样,虽然她花钱小气(她向来撒不开手),也就对付得过了.哪知自从这群人来过之后,旅馆主人便来赶她动身.有人告诉他说旅馆里不能收留她这样的人,因为英国的上等女人决不愿意和她同桌子吃饭.这样,她只得自己去租公寓住.那儿的生活单调寂寞,把她憋得难受.
    她虽然到处碰壁,仍旧不屈服,努力替自己树立好名声,把别人说她的坏话压下去.她经常上教堂,赞美诗比谁都唱得响亮.她为淹死的渔夫的家眷办福利.她做了手工,画了图画,捐给扩喜布传教团.她捐钱给教会,而且坚决不跳华尔兹舞.总之,她尽量做个规矩的上等女人.为这个原因我很愿意多说一些她当时的生活情形.后来的事情说来不怎么愉快,我也不喜欢多讲.她明明看见别人躲着不愿意睬她,仍旧努力对他们微笑着打招呼.她心里的委屈烦恼,在脸上是一点儿也看不出来的.
    她从前的历史究竟是个猜不透的奥妙.一般人对于她的意见也各有不同.有些人爱管闲事,把过去的事情研究了一下,说是过错都在她.有些人赌神罚誓说她像羔羊一般纯洁,都是她混帐的丈夫不好.她往往说起儿子就失声哭泣,听见他的名字或是看见和他长得相像的孩子,就伤心得发狂一般.她用这个方法赢得了好多人的同情.当地有一位好心的亚尔德内太太,仿佛是波罗涅地方英国居民中的王后,请客和开跳舞会的次数比别的人多.蓓基看见她的儿子亚尔德内少爷从斯威希退尔博士的学校里回来过暑假,痛哭起来,这样一来,亚尔德内太太的心就向着她了.蓓基悲悲切切呜呜咽咽的说道:"他和我的罗登同年,长得真像."其实两个孩子相差五岁,相貌完全不同,等于敬爱的读者和写书的人那么不像.威纳姆从基新根去找斯丹恩侯爵,经过波罗涅,就把这事对亚尔德内太太解释明白了.他说小罗登的相貌,他比孩子的妈妈知道的还清楚.因为大家都知道他妈妈非常恨他,从来不去看他.他今年十三岁了,亚尔德内少爷才九岁;他是白皮肤,而那一个小宝贝皮肤黑得多.总而言之,威纳姆的一席话使亚尔德内太太懊悔自己不该对蓓基那么客气.
    蓓基交朋友用掉的精神力气说出来叫人不相信.好容易交着了几个,总有人走来很粗暴的把她的成绩一扫而光,她只好再从头做起.这种生活非常非常艰苦,使她觉得寂寞和灰心.
    还有一个纽白拉依脱太太,在教堂里听得她甜美的歌声,而且见她对于宗教方面的见解也很准确,十分赞赏她,也跟她来往了一阵子.关于宗教,蓓基太太在女王的克劳莱得到的教诲就不少.她不但肯接受传教小册子,而且把它们都读过.她给扩喜布地方的土人做绒布裙子,给西印度岛上的土人做棉布睡帽.她画了小画屏,为的是劝教皇和犹太人归于正教.她每星期三听罗尔丝牧师讲道,每星期四听赫格尔登牧师讲道,每逢星期日上教堂两回,晚上还听达别派(１８３０年在泼立默斯所创的新教派.)的包勒先生讲道.可是这一切都没有效力.纽白拉依脱太太为非奇岛的土著募捐暖壶基金的事和莎吴塞唐老伯爵夫人通了一封信......关于这件慈善事业,另外有委员会,这两位太太都是委员.她在信上提起她的"可爱的朋友"罗登.克劳莱太太,老夫人细细的回了一封信,里面有事实,有谎话,有藏头露尾的叙述,还预言她将来必遭天罚.从此纽白拉依脱太太和克劳莱太太的交情便断绝了.这件倒楣事是在多尔斯发生的,这以后当地宗教界的人士也和这罪孽深重的人从此不相往来.凡是熟悉英国国外殖民地的人,都知道我们不论走到哪里,都把本国的骄傲.偏见.丸药.哈威沙司.胡椒,和各种家乡的习惯带着一起去,仿佛在那个地方制造出一个小英国来.
    蓓基担惊受怕的从一个地方逃到另一个地方.从波罗涅到地埃泊,从地埃泊到开恩,从开恩到多尔斯,尽她所能做个规矩的女人.真可叹!到后来人家总能探出她的底细,这骗子又给真的乌鸦们啄出笼子去了.
    在一处地方,有一个虎克.伊格尔思太太很照顾她.伊格尔思太太是个品德高超的女人,在扑德门广场有一所房子.蓓基逃到地埃泊的时候,她正在当地一个旅馆里住.她们两人第一次是在海里见面的,因为两个人都在游泳,后来又在一桌吃客饭,便认识了.伊格尔思太太曾经听见过斯丹恩事件......这件事谁没听说过呢?......可是和蓓基谈了一席话之后,就和人说克劳莱太太是个天使,她的丈夫是个混蛋,斯丹恩勋爵呢,大家都知道他是个没有道德的坏人,这件事情,全是威纳姆那流氓使出毒辣的手段陷害克劳莱太太的.她对丈夫说:"伊格尔思先生,如果你是个有血性的人,下一回你在俱乐部碰见那混帐东西的时候就该打他两下耳刮子."不幸伊格尔思不过是个安静的老先生,只能做做伊格尔思太太的丈夫.他喜欢研究地质,长得很矮,够不上打人家的耳刮子.
    这样,伊格尔思太太便做了罗登太太的保护人,把她带到巴黎她自己的房子里去住.她和英国大使的太太还吵了一架,因为大使夫人不肯接待蓓基.她努力使蓓基做个品行端正声名清白的人,凡是一个女人所能尽的力量她都尽了.
    起先蓓基过得很规矩很谨严,可是这么沉闷的道学生活不久便把她憋得难受.天天是照例公事,过那样舒服而没有变化的日子.白天老是坐了车子到波罗涅树林子去兜风,真无聊!晚上老是看见那几个脸熟的客人,星期天晚上老是读白莱厄的训戒,仿佛是把一出歌剧翻来覆去演个不完.蓓基气闷得要死,总算她运气好,年轻的伊格尔思从剑桥回来了.母亲看见儿子对自己的小朋友那么动心,立刻打发蓓基上路.
    她和一个女朋友同住,两个人不久就吵起架来,又欠下了债.后来她决定住到供饭食的公寓里去,在巴黎皇家大街特.圣.亚母夫人的有名的公寓里住了一阵子.她的房东太太的客厅里常有衣衫褴褛的花花公子和不干不净的美人儿,她就在这些人面前施展出她的手段和魅力.蓓基喜欢应酬交际,要不然就像鸦片鬼没有烟抽那样难过.住在公寓的时候,她很快活.有一次她对一个偶尔碰见的伦敦老相识说:"这儿的女人跟梅飞厄的女人一样有意思,不过衣服旧些罢了.男人们戴的手套全是选过的旧东西,而且他们的确是该死的流氓,可是也不见得比上流社会的某人某人更糟糕.房主人有些俗气,可是我看她比某某夫人还高雅一点儿呢."她提到的一位太太是时髦场上的尖儿,她的真姓名我死也不愿意说出来.到晚上,特.圣.亚母夫人的客厅里开了灯,男人们戴了宝星,挂了绶带,坐在桌子旁边玩埃加脱,女人们离得远一些坐着;乍一看,真会叫人当他们全是上流人物,主妇也是真正的伯爵夫人.被他们哄骗过去的人着实不少.有一个时候,蓓基就是伯爵夫人客厅里最出风头的人物.
    大概她的一八一五年的老债主找着了她,使她不能在巴黎住下去.可怜的女人忽然被逼离开巴黎,到布督塞尔去了.
    布鲁塞尔的一切她记得很清楚.她抬头看见自己住的屋子,想起贝亚爱格思家里的马车歇在旅馆门前,一家子叫着闹着想买了马逃走,觉得好笑.她又到滑铁卢和莱根去走了一转.在莱根,她看见乔治.奥斯本的墓碑,着实感叹,把它画了下来.她说:"那可怜的爱神!他多爱我!他真是个傻瓜!不知小爱米还活着吗?她是个好心肠的小东西.还有她哥哥那大胖子.他那张相片画得又肥又大,真滑稽,还在我的纸堆里呢.他们都是忠厚老实的好人."
    蓓基动身到布鲁塞尔的时候,特.圣.亚母夫人写了一封介绍信,把她推荐给当地的特.波罗地诺伯爵夫人.伯爵夫人的丈夫原来是拿破仑手下的大将,有名的特.波罗地诺伯爵.这位英雄一死,留下的妻子无以为生,只得开公寓给客人包饭,一方面摆张牌桌子抽些头钱,借此过活.二流的花花公子和风月场中的老手,经常和人打官司的寡妇,老实的英国人,满以为这种地方就能代表大陆式生活的,都到特.波罗地诺夫人这儿来吃饭和赌钱.爱风流的小伙子们吃饭的时候请大家喝香槟酒,陪着女人们坐马车兜风,租了马匹到乡下去游耍,凑了钱买票请大家看戏听歌剧,站在女人背后,紧挨着她们美丽的肩膀赌钱,然后写信回家给德芬郡的爹娘,描写自己在外国上流社会里过得多么愉快.
    在布鲁塞尔和在巴黎一样,蓓基在上等的公寓里是极露头角的,算得上那儿的王后.凡是有人请她喝香槟酒,送她花球,陪她到乡下兜风,请她坐包厢看戏,她从来不拒绝,可是她最喜欢的还是晚上的埃加脱纸牌戏.她赌钱的输赢很大.起初她手笔很小,后来便用五法郎的银币,甚至于拿破仑大洋钱来赌,再后来便出借据.慢慢的房饭钱也付不出了,只得问小伙子们借钱.她有了现钱,便欺负特.波罗地诺夫人,不像空手的时候那么甜嘴蜜舌了.有的时候她穷得可怜,只能十个苏(法国最小的钱币名.)一注小赌赌.等到本季的津贴到手,她还掉房饭钱,立刻又和罗西纽尔先生或是特.拉夫爵士交起手来.
    说来丢脸,蓓基离开布鲁塞尔的时候,欠了特.波罗地诺夫人三个月的房饭钱.以后凡是有英国主顾来,特.波罗地诺夫人便把这件事告诉他们,还说她怎么赌钱,怎么喝酒,怎么对英国教会里的默甫牧师跪下借钱,怎么对默甫牧师的学生奴得尔大少爷(他是奴得尔爵士的儿子)甜嘴蜜舌,送情卖俏,怎么把他一直带到自己的房间里,怎么和他玩埃加脱赢了他好几笔数目很大的款子等等,许多不要脸的勾当.她说罗登太太简直是一条毒蛇.
    我们这流浪人在欧洲各个城市里到处为家,像俄底修斯和班非尔德.莫尔.加路(加路(Ｂａｍｙｌｄｅ　Ｍｏｏｒｅ　Ｃａｒｅｗ,１６９３—１７７０?)本是德芬郡一个牧师的儿子,从学校里逃走之后,和吉卜赛流浪人一起生活,到过许多地方.)一样没有定踪,对于下流生活越来越爱好.不久她游荡成性,来往的人可怕得很,你碰见了准会吓的毛发直竖.
    欧洲大陆上无论什么城市里都有一小撮英国人,全是社会的渣滓.他们的名字,到了一定的时候就会在州官的庭上给地保海姆泊先生当众宣读一次(这意思就是说他们都是受政府通缉的罪犯.).有些人往往是好人家的少爷,只是家里不认他们了.他们常到的地方是弹子房.咖啡馆.跑马场.赌场.他们欠了债还不出,给关在监牢里.他们喝酒,吹牛,争闹,打架,欠了账溜掉算数,跟法国和德国的军官决斗,打牌的时候,专让斯卜内这种人上当,骗他们的钱.有了现钱到手,他们就坐了可以容人睡觉的华丽的大马车到巴登去;赌博输了钱,加一倍赌注再下手,骗人的手段万无一失.没有钱的时候,他们就是衣衫褴褛的时髦绅士,穷形急相的纨子弟,在赌场里东挨挨,西凑凑,直到能够用假票子蒙过了那做庄家的犹太人,或是找到一些像斯卜内一类可以骗钱的傻瓜,才又抖起来.他们一会儿大阔特阔,一会儿又穷极无聊,叫人看着觉得奇怪.想来他们的生活准是富有刺激性的.说老实话,蓓基后来过的也是这种生涯,而且过得很自在.她走过各个城市,就在这种浪人中间混.在德国,每个赌场里都知道这位好运气的罗登太太.在翡冷翠,她和一个特.克吕希加西太太同住.听说在慕尼黑,她是被驱逐出境的.据我的朋友弗莱特立克.毕勤说,他在劳珊地方就在她家里受了欺骗.人家在他晚饭上撒了蒙汗药,害他饭后输了八百镑钱给楼德少佐跟杜西斯先生.关于蓓基的遭遇,我不得不说说清楚,可是这一段时候的事情,说得越少越好.
    他们说克劳莱太太运气特别不好的时候,靠着在各地开音乐会和教音乐过活.在维尔巴德的确有过一个特.罗登太太开过早晨的音乐会,由一位斯博夫先生伴奏,说是伐拉契亚地方乐队里最好的钢琴家.我的朋友伊芙斯先生人人都认识,而且处处地方都到过.他说一八三○年他在斯德拉堡的时候,有一个叫利蓓加夫人的女人在歌剧《白朗希太太》里面串演了一个角色,引起戏院里一场大闹.结果她给看客嘘下台去,一则她唱做都不行,主要是因为正厅中军官们的座位里有几个人不识时务,出来帮她,反害她下了台.伊芙斯说这个倒楣的新手不是别人,正是罗登.克劳莱太太.
    她后来到处流浪,有了钱就赌,赌输了就马马虎虎对付着过日子,不知道她究竟用的什么法子.据说她也曾到过彼得堡,可是很快的给当地的公安机关驱逐出境.由此看来,后来谣传她在托帕立兹和维也纳替俄国政府做间谍的话是没有根据的.又有人告诉我说她在巴黎还认到了亲戚,就是她的外婆.她外婆并不是贵族蒙脱莫伦西家里的人,却是个面目可憎的老婆子,在大街上一家戏院子里管包厢.她们两人会面的事情既有人在别处提起,想来总有好些人知道.当时的情景一定非常使人感动,不过可靠的细节我却不能告诉你.
    有一次在罗马,特.罗登太太半年的津贴刚刚汇到当地最有名的银行里,正值波洛尼亚亲王和王妃在宫里开跳舞会.这位亲王是大资本家,每到冬天大开舞会的时候,凡是银行里存款超过五百斯固第(十八.九世纪在意大利通行的银币.)的存户,都给请去作客,因此蓓基也得了一张请帖,有一天晚上在他们豪华的宴会上出席.王妃的娘家姓邦贝利,是古罗马第二朝皇帝的后裔,她的另一个老祖宗是奥林波斯族的爱琪利亚(爱琪利亚(Ｅｇｅｒｉａ)是个女神,相传嫁给奴玛王为妻.神仙们的住所是奥林波斯山,所以说她是奥林波斯一族的人.).亲王的祖父,亚历山特罗.波洛尼亚,从前出卖肥皂.香水.香烟和手帕,替城里的绅士跑跑腿,也借钱给人盘剥些利钱,不过规模不大.这次宴会,凡是在罗马有些名儿的都来了,其中有亲王.公爵.大使.艺术家.拉提琴的.教会里的大执事.年轻的公子和他们的教师等等,各色各等的人物都有.所有的厅堂陈设得十分富丽,灯火点得雪亮,宫里摆满了假古董和镀金的画框子(里面当然也有画儿).在屋顶上,护壁板上,专为教皇和大皇帝预备的丝绒天幔上,都装饰着大大的金色王冠和亲王家的纹章,是红底子上一颗金色的蕈,恰好和他家出卖的手帕一样颜色;亲王的纹章旁边当然还有邦贝利的纹章,是一个银色的喷泉.
    蓓基才从翡冷翠坐了驿车到达罗马,住在一家小客店里,居然也得了波洛尼亚亲王的一张请帖.她的女佣人仔仔细细替她打扮了一番,她便勾着楼德少佐的胳膊一同去赴豪华的跳舞会.那时她恰巧和这位少佐同路旅行(第二年在拿波里一熗打死拉福利亲王的就是他;有一次约翰.白克斯金爵士和他玩埃加脱,发现除了牌桌上的四张皇帝之外,他帽子里另外藏了四张,就用棍子把他揍了一顿)......他们两人同路旅行,所以一起进宫.蓓基看见许多熟悉的脸庞儿,还是从前过好日子时候的相识;当时她虽然也和现在一样品行不端,做的坏事却还没有给人揭穿.楼德少佐认得好多留连鬓胡子的外国人,样子尖利,钮扣洞里挂着勋章,可是勋章上面的条子缎带都很肮脏,里面的衬衫是不敢露在外面的了.楼德少佐的本国人看见他都躲开不理他.蓓基也认识几个太太,有的是法国寡妇,有的是冒牌的意大利伯爵夫人,受丈夫虐待而出走的.咳!我们曾经和名利场上最上等的人物来往,对于这些渣滓弃物,下流的东西,说些什么好呢?我们要玩纸牌,也要用干净的,不要这副肮脏牌.多少出外旅行过的人都曾碰见过这批闯江湖的骗子,他们像尼姆和毕斯多尔(莎士比亚历史剧《亨利第四》.《亨利第五》以及《温莎的风流娘儿们》中胖子福尔斯塔夫(Ｆａｌｓｔａｆｆ)的朋友.)一样跟着大伙旅客来来往往,仿佛是正规军之外专事抢劫的游击.他们也穿上英国兵的服色,夸口说是英国的军官,其实是靠自己打劫过日子,有的时候犯了法,给吊死在路旁的绞架上.
    刚才说到她扶着楼德少佐,在一间间的屋子里穿来穿去,在酒食柜上喝了许多香槟酒.许多人,尤其是少佐这一帮非正规的军人们,都其势汹汹的拥在酒食柜周围要吃的.他们两人吃喝够了,便到处闲逛,一直走到王妃的私人小客厅里.这间客厅在最后面,是用粉红丝绒装饰的,里面有爱神维纳斯的像和好几面银镶边的威尼斯大镜子.亲王一家正在那里款待贵客,大家围着一张圆桌子吃晚饭.蓓基记得从前斯丹恩勋爵家里请贵客的排场就跟这个差不多,她自己也坐过这样的席.想着,抬眼看见斯丹恩勋爵正坐在波洛尼亚亲王的筵席上.
    他的光秃秃的前额又白又亮,从前给金刚钻割破的地方结成一条血红的疤.他的红胡子染成了紫黑色,使他本来苍白的脸色显得更加苍白.他身上挂满了各色宝星勋章,蓝色的绶带等等.虽然同桌有一个公国的大公爵.一位亲王.两位王妃,可是都不及他势力浩大.在他身旁坐着美丽的贝拉唐那伯爵夫人.她娘家姓特.葛拉地,她丈夫保罗.台拉.贝拉唐那伯爵的昆虫标本是有名的.他出使到莫洛哥皇帝那里去,离家已经好久了.
    蓓基一看见这位眼熟的有名人物,忽然觉得楼德少佐寒蠢的了不得,讨厌的卢克上尉也是浑身香烟味儿.她立刻改了态度,面子上摆出有身分太太的架子,心底里也配上有身分太太的感情,仿佛自己又回到了梅飞厄.她想:"那个女人看上去很笨,脾气也不好.我想她决不能替他开心.他一定觉得气闷.他跟我在一起的时候可是从来不觉得气闷的."这种动人的希望.恐惧和回忆一时都来了,把她兴奋得心上别别的跳.她努力使自己的眼睛放出光彩,瞧着那位大人物.(她的胭脂一直搽到眼皮底下,使她的眼睛闪闪发亮)每逢斯丹恩勋爵戴宝星挂绶带的晚上,他同时也摆出最庄重的仪态,不论举止谈吐,都像一位了不起的贵人,配得上他的身分.蓓基见他雍容华贵地笑着,样子很随便,可是又高贵,又庄严,心里真是敬服.啊,老天,他的口角多么俏皮聪明,谈话的题材多么丰富,举动多么威严,跟他在一起多么有趣味!她失去了这样的朋友,换来的是楼德少佐和卢克上尉一类的人;楼德少佐一股子雪茄烟和白兰地的气味.卢克上尉出言粗俗,像个打拳的,说起笑话来全是赛马场里骑师的口吻.她想:"不知他还记得我吗?"斯丹恩勋爵正在和旁边一位显赫的贵妇人说笑,不承望一抬头看见了蓓基.
    他们四目相遇的时候,蓓基激动极了.她努力摆出最可爱的笑脸,娇滴滴怯生生的向他行一个屈膝礼.他惊得呆了,对她瞪着眼,麦克白开跳舞会请吃晚饭的时候看见班可(班可(Ｂａｎｇｕｏ)是莎士比亚悲剧《麦克白》中被麦克白谋杀的将军.)的鬼魂突然出现,一定也是这样.他张着嘴对她呆望,讨厌的楼德少佐却把她拉着就走.
    他说:"到饭间去吃晚饭吧,罗太太,瞧着这些阔佬吃喝,我的肚子也饿了.咱们去喝些老头儿的香槟酒去."蓓基心想那天他已经喝得太多了.
    第二天她到毕新山去散步......罗马的毕新山相当于英国的海德公园,没事干的人都在那里逛.她去散步的目的大概希望再看见斯丹恩勋爵一面,不巧她碰见的却是另外一个相识,就是斯丹恩勋爵的亲信非希先生.非希走上前来随随便便的向她点点头,伸出一个手指头碰了一碰帽子边,说道:"我知道您在这儿,一直从您的旅馆跟到这儿来了.我有几句话劝您."
    蓓基觉得希望来了,激动得很,尽力摆出架子说道:"是斯丹恩勋爵的劝告吗?"
    亲信佣人答道:"不,这是我的劝告.罗马不卫生的很."
    "非希先生,罗马要到复活节以后才不卫生呢,冬天有什么不好?"
    "我告诉您,这儿现在就不卫生,老是有人得疟疾.泥塘子里吹来的风真讨厌,不管在什么季节都有人害病死掉.克劳莱太太,你向来是个好汉,我拿名誉担保,我是很关心你的.听我的活,赶快离开罗马吧,不然你就会害病,就会有性命危险."
    蓓基心里虽然又气又怒,可是面上却笑着说:"什么?暗杀我这样的可怜虫吗?这倒像小说里的情节了!难道勋爵的向导是刺客,行李车里面还有尖刀吗?吓!我不走,单是叫他难受难受也好.我在这儿的时候自有人保护我."
    这一回轮到非希先生笑了.他说:"保护你?谁来保护你呢?跟你来往的赌棍,像少佐,上尉,只要有一百金路易到手,就会谋了您的性命.那楼德少佐......他根本不是什么少佐,就跟我不是勋爵大人一样......那楼德少佐过去干的坏事尽够叫他去做摇船的囚犯,或者还不止这点处罚呢.我们什么事都知道,每处地方都有朋友.您在巴黎见过什么人,找到什么亲戚,我们全知道.您瞪着眼也没用,我们的确知道啊!您想想,为什么在欧洲大陆的时候没一个公使肯睬您?这都是因为您得罪了一位大人物.他是从来不饶人的,他一看见你,比以前加倍的生气.昨儿晚上他回家的时候简直像发疯一样.特.贝拉唐那夫人为你还大发脾气,跟他闹了一场."
    蓓基道:"哦,原来是特.贝拉唐那夫人,是不是啊?"她听了刚才一席话,心里害怕,现在稍觉放心.
    "不是她.她倒没有关系,反正老在吃醋.我告诉你,这是他大人的意思.你不该在他面前露脸.如果你再呆在这儿,将来准懊悔.听我的话.快走吧.勋爵的马车来了!"他拉着蓓基的胳膊,急急的转到花园的小径里.正在这时,斯丹恩勋爵的马车飞跑过去,车身上画着灿烂的纹章,拉车的马匹全是有了钱也未必买得着的名种.特.贝拉唐那夫人靠在靠垫上.她皮肤带黑,十分娇艳,却恼着脸儿;怀里躺着一只小狗,头顶上的小阳伞向左右摇晃着.斯丹恩老头儿躺在她旁边,脸色青灰,眼光像凶神一般.仇恨.愤怒.欲望,有时还能使他的眼睛发亮,普通的时候,他眼色阴沉沉的仿佛对于世界上一切都看厌了.可恶的老头儿对于一切乐趣.最美丽的景物,都已经失去兴味.
    马车飞驰过去的时候克劳莱太太从树丛后面偷偷张望,非希先生轻轻说道:"他昨天晚上给你吓着了,至今没有恢复呢."蓓基想:"这样我才算出了一口气."非希先生(勋爵大人死后,他就回到自己本国居住,向亲王捐了一个爵位,成为非契男爵,大家对他很尊敬)......非希先生所说的话,不知到底可靠不可靠,不知是勋爵真的有意杀死蓓基而他的亲信不愿意行刺呢,还不知是他大人要在罗马过冬,看见了蓓基非常不高兴,特地命令亲信去恫吓她一下,把她赶走.总之这次威吓很有效,那小女人从此没有敢再去打搅她从前的恩人.
    大家都知道他大人是在一八三○年法国革命发生两个月之后在拿波里去世的.报纸上说,光荣的乔治.葛斯泰芙.斯丹恩侯爵,岗脱堡的岗脱伯爵,在爱尔兰缙绅录里又是海尔包路子爵和毕却莱与葛立斯贝的男爵,曾得过一级骑士勋章.西班牙金羊毛勋章.俄国一级圣尼古拉斯勋章.土耳其月牙勋章,曾任尚粉大臣.后宫密室侍从官.摄政王御前义勇军统领.伦敦博物馆董事.伦敦船泊管理所高级所员.白衣僧学校理事,又曾得民法博士学位,最近中风逝世,原因是这次法国皇室崩溃,给予勋爵大人感情上沉重的打击.
    某周报刊登了一篇文章,淋漓尽致的描写他的品德.才学.种种的善举,说他人格如何伟大,情感如何丰富.他和显赫的波朋皇族联过姻,交谊是极深的,因此伟大的亲戚遭到不幸,他也活不下去了.他的遗体葬在拿波里,可是他的心,那宽宏大量的.充满了高贵的情感的心,给装在银瓮里面送到岗脱堡.滑格先生写道:"他死了,贫苦的人们失去了依靠,艺术失去了提倡者,社会上少了一件光华灿烂的装饰,英国少了一个伟大的政治家和爱国志士"等等.
    他的家属为他的遗嘱争吵得很厉害,并且企图逼迫特.贝拉唐那夫人把勋爵那颗有名的金刚钻交出来.金刚钻戒指叫做"犹太人的眼睛",勋爵生前总戴在食指上的,据说在他死后特.贝拉唐那夫人便把它勒下来据为己有.可是勋爵亲信的朋友兼随从非希先生出来证明,说戒指是勋爵去世前两天送给夫人的.勋爵的遗产承继人侵害夫人的权利,又要求她交出勋爵小书桌里的现钞.珠宝.拿波里和法国的公债票,也由非希先生证明这些财产早已由勋爵赠送给她了.

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

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CHAPTER LXV
Full of Business and Pleasure
The day after the meeting at the play-table, Jos had himself arrayed with unusual care and splendour, and without thinking it necessary to say a word to any member of his family regarding the occurrences of the previous night, or asking for their company in his walk, he sallied forth at an early hour, and was presently seen making inquiries at the door of the Elephant Hotel. In consequence of the fetes the house was full of company, the tables in the street were already surrounded by persons smoking and drinking the national small-beer, the public rooms were in a cloud of smoke, and Mr. Jos having, in his pompous way, and with his clumsy German, made inquiries for the person of whom he was in search, was directed to the very top of the house, above the first-floor rooms where some travelling pedlars had lived, and were exhibiting their jewellery and brocades; above the second-floor apartments occupied by the etat major of the gambling firm; above the third-floor rooms, tenanted by the band of renowned Bohemian vaulters and tumblers; and so on to the little cabins of the roof, where, among students, bagmen, small tradesmen, and country-folks come in for the festival, Becky had found a little nest--as dirty a little refuge as ever beauty lay hid in.
Becky liked the life. She was at home with everybody in the place, pedlars, punters, tumblers, students and all. She was of a wild, roving nature, inherited from father and mother, who were both Bohemians, by taste and circumstance; if a lord was not by, she would talk to his courier with the greatest pleasure; the din, the stir, the drink, the smoke, the tattle of the Hebrew pedlars, the solemn, braggart ways of the poor tumblers, the sournois talk of the gambling-table officials, the songs and swagger of the students, and the general buzz and hum of the place had pleased and tickled the little woman, even when her luck was down and she had not wherewithal to pay her bill. How pleasant was all the bustle to her now that her purse was full of the money which little Georgy had won for her the night before!
As Jos came creaking and puffing up the final stairs, and was speechless when he got to the landing, and began to wipe his face and then to look for No. 92, the room where he was directed to seek for the person he wanted, the door of the opposite chamber, No. 90, was open, and a student, in jack-boots and a dirty schlafrock, was lying on the bed smoking a long pipe; whilst another student in long yellow hair and a braided coat, exceeding smart and dirty too, was actually on his knees at No. 92, bawling through the keyhole supplications to the person within.
"Go away," said a well-known voice, which made Jos thrill, "I expect somebody; I expect my grandpapa. He mustn't see you there."
"Angel Englanderinn!" bellowed the kneeling student with the whity- brown ringlets and the large finger-ring, "do take compassion upon us. Make an appointment. Dine with me and Fritz at the inn in the park. We will have roast pheasants and porter, plum-pudding and French wine. We shall die if you don't."
"That we will," said the young nobleman on the bed; and this colloquy Jos overheard, though he did not comprehend it, for the reason that he had never studied the language in which it was carried on.
"Newmero kattervang dooze, si vous plait," Jos said in his grandest manner, when he was able to speak.
"Quater fang tooce!" said the student, starting up, and he bounced into his own room, where he locked the door, and where Jos heard him laughing with his comrade on the bed.
The gentleman from Bengal was standing, disconcerted by this incident, when the door of the 92 opened of itself and Becky's little head peeped out full of archness and mischief. She lighted on Jos. "It's you," she said, coming out. "How I have been waiting for you! Stop! not yet--in one minute you shall come in." In that instant she put a rouge-pot, a brandy bottle, and a plate of broken meat into the bed, gave one smooth to her hair, and finally let in her visitor.
She had, by way of morning robe, a pink domino, a trifle faded and soiled, and marked here and there with pomaturn; but her arms shone out from the loose sleeves of the dress very white and fair, and it was tied round her little waist so as not ill to set off the trim little figure of the wearer. She led Jos by the hand into her garret. "Come in," she said. "Come and talk to me. Sit yonder on the chair"; and she gave the civilian's hand a little squeeze and laughingly placed him upon it. As for herself, she placed herself on the bed--not on the bottle and plate, you may be sure--on which Jos might have reposed, had he chosen that seat; and so there she sat and talked with her old admirer. "How little years have changed you," she said with a look of tender interest. "I should have known you anywhere. What a comfort it is amongst strangers to see once more the frank honest face of an old friend!"
The frank honest face, to tell the truth, at this moment bore any expression but one of openness and honesty: it was, on the contrary, much perturbed and puzzled in look. Jos was surveying the queer little apartment in which he found his old flame. One of her gowns hung over the bed, another depending from a hook of the door; her bonnet obscured half the looking-glass, on which, too, lay the prettiest little pair of bronze boots; a French novel was on the table by the bedside, with a candle, not of wax. Becky thought of popping that into the bed too, but she only put in the little paper night-cap with which she had put the candle out on going to sleep.
"I should have known you anywhere," she continued; "a woman never forgets some things. And you were the first man I ever--I ever saw."
"Was I really?" said Jos. "God bless my soul, you--you don't say so."
"When I came with your sister from Chiswick, I was scarcely more than a child," Becky said. "How is that, dear love? Oh, her husband was a sad wicked man, and of course it was of me that the poor dear was jealous. As if I cared about him, heigho! when there was somebody--but no--don't let us talk of old times"; and she passed her handkerchief with the tattered lace across her eyelids.
"Is not this a strange place," she continued, "for a woman, who has lived in a very different world too, to be found in? I have had so many griefs and wrongs, Joseph Sedley; I have been made to suffer so cruelly that I am almost made mad sometimes. I can't stay still in any place, but wander about always restless and unhappy. All my friends have been false to me--all. There is no such thing as an honest man in the world. I was the truest wife that ever lived, though I married my husband out of pique, because somebody else--but never mind that. I was true, and he trampled upon me and deserted me. I was the fondest mother. I had but one child, one darling, one hope, one joy, which I held to my heart with a mother's affection, which was my life, my prayer, my--my blessing; and they-- they tore it from me--tore it from me"; and she put her hand to her heart with a passionate gesture of despair, burying her face for a moment on the bed.
The brandy-bottle inside clinked up against the plate which held the cold sausage. Both were moved, no doubt, by the exhibition of so much grief. Max and Fritz were at the door, listening with wonder to Mrs. Becky's sobs and cries. Jos, too, was a good deal frightened and affected at seeing his old flame in this condition. And she began, forthwith, to tell her story--a tale so neat, simple, and artless that it was quite evident from hearing her that if ever there was a white-robed angel escaped from heaven to be subject to the infernal machinations and villainy of fiends here below, that spotless being--that miserable unsullied martyr, was present on the bed before Jos--on the bed, sitting on the brandy-bottle.
They had a very long, amicable, and confidential talk there, in the course of which Jos Sedley was somehow made aware (but in a manner that did not in the least scare or offend him) that Becky's heart had first learned to beat at his enchanting presence; that George Osborne had certainly paid an unjustifiable court to HER, which might account for Amelia's jealousy and their little rupture; but that Becky never gave the least encouragement to the unfortunate officer, and that she had never ceased to think about Jos from the very first day she had seen him, though, of course, her duties as a married woman were paramount--duties which she had always preserved, and would, to her dying day, or until the proverbially bad climate in which Colonel Crawley was living should release her from a yoke which his cruelty had rendered odious to her.
Jos went away, convinced that she was the most virtuous, as she was one of the most fascinating of women, and revolving in his mind all sorts of benevolent schemes for her welfare. Her persecutions ought to be ended: she ought to return to the society of which she was an ornament. He would see what ought to be done. She must quit that place and take a quiet lodging. Amelia must come and see her and befriend her. He would go and settle about it, and consult with the Major. She wept tears of heart-felt gratitude as she parted from him, and pressed his hand as the gallant stout gentleman stooped down to kiss hers.
So Becky bowed Jos out of her little garret with as much grace as if it was a palace of which she did the honours; and that heavy gentleman having disappeared down the stairs, Max and Fritz came out of their hole, pipe in mouth, and she amused herself by mimicking Jos to them as she munched her cold bread and sausage and took draughts of her favourite brandy-and-water.
Jos walked over to Dobbin's lodgings with great solemnity and there imparted to him the affecting history with which he had just been made acquainted, without, however, mentioning the play business of the night before. And the two gentlemen were laying their heads together and consulting as to the best means of being useful to Mrs. Becky, while she was finishing her interrupted dejeuner a la fourchette.
How was it that she had come to that little town? How was it that she had no friends and was wandering about alone? Little boys at school are taught in their earliest Latin book that the path of Avernus is very easy of descent. Let us skip over the interval in the history of her downward progress. She was not worse now than she had been in the days of her prosperity--only a little down on her luck.
As for Mrs. Amelia, she was a woman of such a soft and foolish disposition that when she heard of anybody unhappy, her heart straightway melted towards the sufferer; and as she had never thought or done anything mortally guilty herself, she had not that abhorrence for wickedness which distinguishes moralists much more knowing. If she spoiled everybody who came near her with kindness and compliments--if she begged pardon of all her servants for troubling them to answer the bell--if she apologized to a shopboy who showed her a piece of silk, or made a curtsey to a street- sweeper with a complimentary remark upon the elegant state of his crossing--and she was almost capable of every one of these follies-- the notion that an old acquaintance was miserable was sure to soften her heart; nor would she hear of anybody's being deservedly unhappy. A world under such legislation as hers would not be a very orderly place of abode; but there are not many women, at least not of the rulers, who are of her sort. This lady, I believe, would have abolished all gaols, punishments, handcuffs, whippings, poverty, sickness, hunger, in the world, and was such a mean-spirited creature that--we are obliged to confess it--she could even forget a mortal injury.
When the Major heard from Jos of the sentimental adventure which had just befallen the latter, he was not, it must be owned, nearly as much interested as the gentleman from Bengal. On the contrary, his excitement was quite the reverse from a pleasurable one; he made use of a brief but improper expression regarding a poor woman in distress, saying, in fact, "The little minx, has she come to light again?" He never had had the slightest liking for her, but had heartily mistrusted her from the very first moment when her green eyes had looked at, and turned away from, his own.
"That little devil brings mischief wherever she goes," the Major said disrespectfully. "Who knows what sort of life she has been leading? And what business has she here abroad and alone? Don't tell me about persecutors and enemies; an honest woman always has friends and never is separated from her family. Why has she left her husband? He may have been disreputable and wicked, as you say. He always was. I remember the confounded blackleg and the way in which he used to cheat and hoodwink poor George. Wasn't there a scandal about their separation? I think I heard something," cried out Major Dobbin, who did not care much about gossip, and whom Jos tried in vain to convince that Mrs. Becky was in all respects a most injured and virtuous female.
"Well, well; let's ask Mrs. George," said that arch-diplomatist of a Major. "Only let us go and consult her. I suppose you will allow that she is a good judge at any rate, and knows what is right in such matters."
"Hm! Emmy is very well," said Jos, who did not happen to be in love with his sister.
"Very well? By Gad, sir, she's the finest lady I ever met in my life," bounced out the Major. "I say at once, let us go and ask her if this woman ought to be visited or not--I will be content with her verdict." Now this odious, artful rogue of a Major was thinking in his own mind that he was sure of his case. Emmy, he remembered, was at one time cruelly and deservedly jealous of Rebecca, never mentioned her name but with a shrinking and terror--a jealous woman never forgives, thought Dobbin: and so the pair went across the street to Mrs. George's house, where she was contentedly warbling at a music lesson with Madame Strumpff.
When that lady took her leave, Jos opened the business with his usual pomp of words. "Amelia, my dear," said he, "I have just had the most extraordinary--yes--God bless my soul! the most extraordinary adventure--an old friend--yes, a most interesting old friend of yours, and I may say in old times, has just arrived here, and I should like you to see her."
"Her!" said Amelia, "who is it? Major Dobbin, if you please not to break my scissors." The Major was twirling them round by the little chain from which they sometimes hung to their lady's waist, and was thereby endangering his own eye.
It is a woman whom I dislike very much," said the Major, doggedly, "and whom you have no cause to love."
"It is Rebecca, I'm sure it is Rebecca," Amelia said, blushing and being very much agitated.
"You are right; you always are," Dobbin answered. Brussels, Waterloo, old, old times, griefs, pangs, remembrances, rushed back into Amelia's gentle heart and caused a cruel agitation there.
"Don't let me see her," Emmy continued. "I couldn't see her."
"I told you so," Dobbin said to Jos.
"She is very unhappy, and--and that sort of thing," Jos urged. "She is very poor and unprotected, and has been ill--exceedingly ill--and that scoundrel of a husband has deserted her."
"Ah!" said Amelia
"She hasn't a friend in the world," Jos went on, not undexterously, "and she said she thought she might trust in you. She's so miserable, Emmy. She has been almost mad with grief. Her story quite affected me--'pon my word and honour, it did--never was such a cruel persecution borne so angelically, I may say. Her family has been most cruel to her."
"Poor creature!" Amelia said.
"And if she can get no friend, she says she thinks she'll die," Jos proceeded in a low tremulous voice. "God bless my soul! do you know that she tried to kill herself? She carries laudanum with her-- I saw the bottle in her room--such a miserable little room--at a third-rate house, the Elephant, up in the roof at the top of all. I went there."
This did not seem to affect Emmy. She even smiled a little. Perhaps she figured Jos to herself panting up the stair.
"She's beside herself with grief," he resumed. "The agonies that woman has endured are quite frightful to hear of. She had a little boy, of the same age as Georgy."
"Yes, yes, I think I remember," Emmy remarked. "Well?"
"The most beautiful child ever seen," Jos said, who was very fat, and easily moved, and had been touched by the story Becky told; "a perfect angel, who adored his mother. The ruffians tore him shrieking out of her arms, and have never allowed him to see her."
"Dear Joseph," Emmy cried out, starting up at once, "let us go and see her this minute." And she ran into her adjoining bedchamber, tied on her bonnet in a flutter, came out with her shawl on her arm, and ordered Dobbin to follow.
He went and put her shawl--it was a white cashmere, consigned to her by the Major himself from India--over her shoulders. He saw there was nothing for it but to obey, and she put her hand into his arm, and they went away.
"It is number 92, up four pair of stairs," Jos said, perhaps not very willing to ascend the steps again; but he placed himself in the window of his drawing-room, which commands the place on which the Elephant stands, and saw the pair marching through the market.
It was as well that Becky saw them too from her garret, for she and the two students were chattering and laughing there; they had been joking about the appearance of Becky's grandpapa--whose arrival and departure they had witnessed--but she had time to dismiss them, and have her little room clear before the landlord of the Elephant, who knew that Mrs. Osborne was a great favourite at the Serene Court, and respected her accordingly, led the way up the stairs to the roof story, encouraging Miladi and the Herr Major as they achieved the ascent.
"Gracious lady, gracious lady!" said the landlord, knocking at Becky's door; he had called her Madame the day before, and was by no means courteous to her.
"Who is it?" Becky said, putting out her head, and she gave a little scream. There stood Emmy in a tremble, and Dobbin, the tall Major, with his cane.
He stood still watching, and very much interested at the scene; but Emmy sprang forward with open arms towards Rebecca, and forgave her at that moment, and embraced her and kissed her with all her heart. Ah, poor wretch, when was your lip pressed before by such pure kisses?

第六十五章    有正经事,也有娱乐
    乔斯和蓓基在赌台前面碰头之后,第二天把自己打扮得特别细心,特别漂亮,很早就踱出门去.关于隔夜发生的事情,他觉得没有必要告诉家里的人,出门时也不要他们陪伴.不久,就有人看见他在大象旅社门口打听着找人.国内有了喜事,所以旅馆里住满了客人.摆在当街的茶座旁边也挤了好些主顾,喝着本国有名的淡啤酒.一间间屋里都是烟气漫,乔斯先生神气活现,说着不流利的德国话探问他要找寻的一位客人,旅馆里的人叫他到最上一层楼去.二楼上住的是几个来去各国的小贩,正在把珠宝首饰和各色缎匹陈列出来.三楼上住着赌场里的办事人员,四楼上住着有名的波希米亚杂技团里的乐队,最高的一层楼上全是小间,住着学生.跑街.做小买卖的.乡下人,都是来赶热闹的.蓓基在这里也有个小窝.美人藏身的地方,算它最脏了.
    蓓基很喜欢这种生涯.她和旅馆里的人,像学生.小贩.撑船的.翻斤斗的,混在一起,觉得很自在.她的父母原是到处为家的流浪者,一则出于不得已,二则也是生成的脾气,她继承了这点天性,因此也是野性难驯,喜欢四处漂泊.只要没有勋爵在场,她觉得跟他的向导谈话也非常有趣.旅馆里的喧闹.忙乱.酒味.烟味,犹太小贩说的无聊的闲话,可怜的翻斤斗的卖艺人一派正经自负的态度,赌场庄家的狡滑的谈吐,学生们唱的歌,说的大话,整个旅馆闹哄哄的气氛,合了这个小女人的脾胃,使她觉得快活.甚至于在她运气不好,没钱付账的时候她也很高兴.现在她的钱袋里装满了隔夜乔杰替她赢来的钱,周围的喧哗更使她觉得愉快了.
    乔斯气喘吁吁的走上最后的一层楼梯,鞋子吱吱的响着,到了上面,话都说不出了.他擦着脸,开始找九十二号房间,因为旅馆的人告诉他,说是他要找的人住在这里.这时对面九十号房间的门开着,一个学生穿了皮靴和肮脏的外衣,躺在床上吸一个长长的烟斗.另一个学生留着很长的黄头发,穿一件钉辫边的外套,款式倒很时髦,只是脏得厉害.他跪在九十二号门口凑着钥匙孔嚷嚷,正在对里面的人求情.
    回答他的是一个熟悉的声音,乔斯一听,身上发起抖来.那声音道:"走开,我在等人呢.我在等我的爷爷呢.我不能让他看见你在这儿."
    跪在地上的学生一头深淡不匀的黄头发,手上戴着大大的戒指.他嚷道:"英国的天使啊,可怜可怜我们吧.只要你答应一声,在公园的饭馆里跟我和立兹一块儿吃饭.我们回头吃烤野鸡.浓麦酒.梅子布丁,还有法国酒.如果你不来,我们就要死了."
    床上的一个年轻公子接口道:"我们必死无疑."这些话全给乔斯听了去,不过他没有学过这一国语言,因此一句也不懂.
    等到他能够开口说话的时候,就摆出最威风的样子,用法文说:"对不起,九十二号."
    学生托的跳起来道:"九十二号!"说完,冲到自己房里锁上了门.乔斯听得他和他床上的同伴一起哈哈大笑.
    孟加拉绅士弄得莫名其妙,只得傻站着,幸而九十二号的门自己开了,蓓基探出头来,一脸顽皮的样儿.她一见乔斯,连忙走出来说道:"是你呀!我等了你多少时候了!等一等,再过一分钟让你进来."她急急的把一盒胭脂,一瓶白兰地酒,一盘子切碎的肉,都藏在被单下面,抿一抿头发,才把客人让进屋里来.
    她披着一件粉红色连头巾的长袍,当它晨衣.这件长袍已经有些褪色,也不怎么干净,上面沾了好些油渍,可是她的胳膊从宽大的袖子里露出来,又白又美,拦腰束着腰带,显得她身材苗条好看.她拉着乔斯的手,把他引到自己住的阁楼里面,她说:"进来,进来跟我谈谈吧.那边椅子上请坐."她拉着印度官儿的手轻轻一捏,笑着把他按在椅子上.她自己坐在床上,当然留心着不碰瓶子和盆子,如果乔斯坐在床上,说不定就会坐到这两样东西上面去.这样,她坐着和她从前的相好谈起话来.
    她做出亲切关心的样子说:"你一点儿没有变,没有老.不管在哪儿,我一看见你就认得.在陌生人堆里看见老朋友坦白老实的脸儿,我心里就乐了."
    说句实话,那坦白老实的脸儿那时候的表情却说不上坦白和老实.乔斯心慌意乱,不知怎么才好.他把老情人的古怪的小房间端相了一下,看见她一件衣服挂在床栏上,一件衣服挂在房门的钩子上,帽子遮了镜子的一半,镜子上还搁了一双漂亮的棕色小皮靴.床旁的桌子上一本法国小说,桌上的蜡烛质地很差,不是蜜蜡做的.蓓基起先打算把它也盖在被单下面,结果只把晚上熄蜡烛用的纸罩子藏了起来.她接着说:"我到哪儿都认得你.有些事情是一个女人永远不会忘记的.你是我......我碰见的第一个男人."
    乔斯道:"真的吗?老天保佑我的灵魂!真是这样吗?"
    蓓基道:"当初我跟着你妹妹从契息克到你家的时候,不过是个孩子罢了.那宝贝儿怎么样啦?唉!她的丈夫是个混蛋.当然啦,那可怜的小宝贝儿很妒忌我.倒仿佛我对她丈夫有意似的!哼!我心里不是另外有人......唉,别说了......别谈老话了."说着,她拿起破花边手帕擦了擦眼皮.
    她接着说道:"瞧这个地方多怪!像我这样,从前过的是另外一种日子,现在竟会住到这儿来,真想不到吧?乔瑟夫.赛特笠,我经过那么些折磨,受过那么些侮辱,吃的好厉害的苦,有的时候我简直像疯了似的.我在一处地方呆不住,到处流浪,可是总是心酸,总不得安宁.所有的朋友个个都靠不住.个个都靠不住.世界上没有一个是正派人.我做妻子多么忠实,真是普天下找不出第二个.当然,我当年是因为对于另外一个人怨愤才嫁给他的,那个人......这话我也不说了.我对丈夫那么忠心,他反而作践我,丢了我不管.我是最痴心的妈妈;我只有一个孩子,他是我唯一的宝贝,唯一的希望,唯一的快乐.儿子是我的命根子,是我诚心祷告来的,是上天赐给我......我的幸福.我拿母亲的深情爱着他.可是他们......他们把他从我身边抢......抢去了."她做出又热情又伤心的姿态,一只手按着胸口,低下头伏在床上半晌不动.
    白兰地瓶子碰在装冷香肠的盆子上,叮当一声响起来,想必是它们两个看见蓓基这么悲痛,心里老大不忍.马克斯和立兹在门口偷听,听得蓓基太太哭哭啼啼,也觉得纳闷.乔斯瞧着老情人这种情形,又感动,又害怕.接着她谈起往事,解释的一套话又简单,又明白,又诚恳.听着她的话,你准会觉得如果真有白衣的天使逃在人间,受到凶神恶煞摧残虐待的话,这纯洁的天使,这无辜的殉难者,就在乔斯面前的床上,坐在白兰地瓶子上.
    他们两人密密的谈了好久,谈得很入港.听了她的一席话,乔斯.赛特笠不知不觉的得到一个结论(蓓基的措辞和态度一点不使他害怕和厌恶)......他发现第一个使蓓基心动的美男子就是他自己.乔治.奥斯本也追过她,当然这件事他做得很不应该,爱米丽亚大概就因此妒忌蓓基,以至于她们两人闹得不欢而散.蓓基本人从来没有和那可怜的军官去兜搭,自从她遇见了乔斯之后,心上总是想着他;不过当然她做了别人的妻子,第一件就是对丈夫尽本分.她向来对得起丈夫,并且至死不变节......至少也要等丈夫死了再说.克劳莱上校住的地方气候出名的坏,所以或许他会一伸腿把蓓基解放出来,还她个自由身子.反正做丈夫的那么狠心,这夫妻的名义只能叫蓓基心上痛恨.
    乔斯动身的时候,深信蓓基是最贤淑.最可爱的女人.他心里盘算着应该怎么帮助她.她的苦难应该到此为止了.她原是上流社会里的尖儿,应该回到从前的地位去.他决定负起责任,把该做的事都担当起来.她得离开那旅馆,找一个安静的房子住下.还得叫爱米丽亚来看望她,照料她.他准备把这件事办好,再和少佐商量一下.蓓基从心里感激他,和他分别的时候掉下眼泪来.大胖子殷勤得很,弯下身子吻她的手.她把他的手紧紧握了一下.
    蓓基鞠躬把乔斯送出自己的阁楼,仪态雍容,仿佛站在自己的宫殿门口.大胖子客人下了楼,马克斯和立兹便衔着烟斗从他们的小屋里钻出来.蓓基一面嚼着面包和冷香肠,喝着她最喜欢的搀水白兰地,一面对他们两人模仿乔斯,自己取乐.
    乔斯郑重其事的走到都宾家里,把自己刚才听来的动人的故事告诉他,可是对于隔夜赌钱的事却一字不提.蓓基太太在客店里吃她的冷肉早饭,这两位先生就在一块儿商议究竟应该怎么帮助她.
    她怎么会到这小城里来的呢?她怎么会一个朋友都没有,只身在外漂泊呢?小学生们开始念拉丁文的时候,就读到通亚佛纳斯湖(亚佛纳斯湖的位置原是坎巴尼亚的一个死火山,湖面常有秽气上升,古时的人把它当作通地狱的进口.)的路怎么容易叫人堕落.我们把她堕落的经过跳过不说了吧.她并不比当年一帆风顺的时候更坏,不过时运差些儿罢了.
    爱米丽亚太太是个慈悲心肠的糊涂人,只要听得有人受苦,立刻就心软了.因为她自己从来没有干过大坏事,所以她对于罪恶并不像有些饱经世故的道学先生那样深恶痛疾.她不论和谁交往,总是和和气气,说些凑趣的话儿,想法子哄人家高兴.佣人听得她打铃子跑来替她做事,她向他们道歉;店员拿出丝绸让她挑选,她又向他们道谢;她对扫街的行礼,恭维他管的街道扫得干净.这些傻事情,她都做得出来.她这样的人,听得老相识遭到了不幸,当然觉得不忍.虽说有些人的不幸是恶有恶报,这种话她根本不要听.倘或由她制定法律,这世界就得乱成一片了.幸而没有几个女人,至少统治阶级的女人,是像她一样的.照着她的意思,我想准得把所有的牢狱.惩罚.手铐.鞭打.贫穷.疾病.饥饿,都废止得一干二净.她一点性气都没有,老实说,即使有人狠狠的害过她,她也能够不究既往.
    孟加拉绅士把他动人的遭遇讲了一遍,少佐听了却不发生兴趣.他反而很不高兴,对那倒楣的女人下了一句简短而无情的考语,说道:"那个轻骨头女人又来了吗?"他对于蓓基向来没有一丝一毫的好感.自从第一次见面,她的绿眼睛对他看了一眼之后,他一直从心底里不相信她.
    少佐很不客气的说:"那小鬼到哪儿就捣乱.谁知道她是怎么过活的?她凭什么会流落在外国?什么别人虐待她折磨她的话别跟我来说.一个清清白白的女人总有亲友可靠,决不会和家里脱离关系.她为什么跟她丈夫分手?也许你说的不错,他是个声名狼藉的坏蛋,他本来就不是好东西.我还记得那混帐的骗子,可怜的乔治从前不是还上他的当来着?关于他们夫妻分居的事,好像还有些不干不净的话.我仿佛听见过一点风声."都宾少佐向来不爱听背地里说长道短,竟也这样说.乔斯竭力分辩,说蓓基太太在各方面都是个贤慧妇人,不过遇人不淑,他只是不信.
    少佐的外交手段是出人头地的.他说:"好吧,好吧,咱们还是去问乔治太太,跟她商量一下.我想你总得承认她的判断力不错,关于这些事情应该怎么处置,还是得问她."
    乔斯到底没有爱上了妹妹,只说道:"哼!爱米还不错."
    少佐冲口说道:"还不错?喝,我一辈子没见过像她那么品格高尚的人.咱们到底应该不应该去看那个女人,还是等她决定,她说什么,我就照着做."这可恶的.诡计多端的少佐不是好东西.他以为自己的官司准赢.他记得有一个时候爱米对于利蓓加妒忌得厉害,而且不是无缘无故瞎吃醋.她提起利蓓加的名字,就觉得厌恶和恐惧.都宾心想一个妒忌的女人是决不肯饶恕她的冤家的.他们两人一起走到对街乔治太太的家里去.她正在跟斯脱伦浦夫太太上课,快快乐乐的唱着歌.
    教歌的太太离开之后,乔斯照平常一般,神气活现开言说道:"爱米丽亚,亲爱的,我刚才碰到一件......对了......求天保佑我的灵魂!碰到一件意外的奇遇.我碰见一个老朋友......嗳......你的老朋友,很有意思的老朋友,我可以说是多年前的老朋友.这位太太刚到此地,我要你去看看她."
    爱米丽亚说道:"太太!谁啊?都宾少佐,请你别把我的剪子弄坏了."爱米往常把这小剪子用一根链子挂在腰里,那时都宾拎着链子把它的溜溜的转,很有危险戳进他自己眼睛里去.
    少佐很固执的说道:"我很讨厌这个女人.你也没有理由要喜欢她."
    爱米丽亚激动得很,涨红了脸说:"是利蓓加,准是利蓓加."
    都宾说:"你猜对了.你是不会错的."布鲁塞尔,滑铁卢,多少年前的悲伤.苦楚,各种的回忆,一时都涌到爱米温柔的胸中,登时使她坐立不安.她说道:"别叫我去看她.我不能见她."
    都宾对乔斯道:"我早就跟你那么说."
    乔斯怂恿她道:"她可怜得很呢,呃......她倒楣极了.她又穷,又没有依靠.她生过病,而且病得很重.她的混帐的丈夫丢下她跑了."
    爱米丽亚说:"啊!"
    乔斯的手段相当高明,接着说:"她一个亲人也没有.她说她相信你会去帮她的忙.她可怜极了,爱米.她伤心得差点儿发疯.我把人格担保,她的话真叫我感动.我可以说,能够像天使一样忍受那种虐待的,恐怕只有她了.她家里的人对她真狠心."
    爱米丽亚道:"可怜虫!"
    乔斯压低声音抖巍巍的说道:"倘若没有朋友去照顾她的话,她说她只能死了.求天保佑我的灵魂吧!你知道不知道她在想自杀呀!她随身带着鸦片,我在她房里还瞧见那瓶子来着.她住着一间破破烂烂的小房间.那旅馆也是三等的,叫大象旅社.她住在顶上一层阁楼里.我去过的."
    爱米听了这些话并不感动.她甚至于笑了一笑.也许她自己在想像乔斯喘着气上楼梯的样子.
    乔斯又说:"她伤心的快发疯了.那女人受的折磨听着就叫人害怕.她有个儿子,和乔杰同年的."
    爱米道:"对的,对的,我还记得.他怎么了?"
    乔斯是个大胖子,很容易受感动,蓓基对他说的话又叫他非常动心.他说:"他是个漂亮的孩子,简直像天使,而且非常爱他母亲.那些混蛋把他从她怀里抢走了.他哭着叫着.他们从此不准他去看母亲."
    爱米立刻霍的站起来叫道:"亲爱的乔瑟夫,咱们现在马上去瞧她去吧!"她跑到隔壁房间里,兴奋得心里直跳,戴上帽子,胳膊上搭了披肩走出来,命令都宾跟着她一起去.
    他走过去替她围上披肩......这条白细绒披肩还是他从印度带给她的.他知道事到如今除了服从别无办法.爱米勾着他的胳膊,两个人一同出门去.
    乔斯说:"她的房间是九十二号,在四层楼."他大概不想再爬四层楼梯,只站在自己客厅窗口,看着他们两人穿过闹市向前走.从他的窗口,也望得见大象旅社的所在地.
    幸而蓓基从阁楼上也看见他们了.那时她和那两个学生正在说笑.两个学生刚才看见蓓基的爷爷进来,也看见他出去,正在取笑他的相貌.蓓基把他们赶走,而且在旅馆主人领着客人上楼之前及时把房间整理一下.大象旅社的老板知道奥斯本太太在宫里很受欢迎,当然非常尊敬她,亲自领路到阁楼上,一面走,一面回头鼓励夫人和少佐先生再往上走.
    旅馆主人敲着蓓基的房门叫道:"尊贵的夫人,尊贵的夫人!"前一天他对蓓基的称呼还很随便,而且对她一点儿不客气.
    蓓基探头出来问道:"是谁呀?"接着便轻轻的尖叫了一声.爱米站在门口,激动得发抖,旁边是高大的都宾少佐拿着手杖.
    他静静的站着,冷眼旁观,好像对于这一幕戏很发生兴趣.爱米张开两臂向利蓓加跑过去,立刻饶恕了她,全心全意的搂着她,亲热地吻她.啊,可怜虫,你的嘴唇以前何曾给这样纯洁的人吻过呢?

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

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CHAPTER LXVI

Amantium Irae
Frankness and kindness like Amelia's were likely to touch even such a hardened little reprobate as Becky. She returned Emmy's caresses and kind speeches with something very like gratitude, and an emotion which, if it was not lasting, for a moment was almost genuine. That was a lucky stroke of hers about the child "torn from her arms shrieking." It was by that harrowing misfortune that Becky had won her friend back, and it was one of the very first points, we may be certain, upon which our poor simple little Emmy began to talk to her new-found acquaintance.
"And so they took your darling child from you?" our simpleton cried out. "Oh, Rebecca, my poor dear suffering friend, I know what it is to lose a boy, and to feel for those who have lost one. But please Heaven yours will be restored to you, as a merciful merciful Providence has brought me back mine."
"The child, my child? Oh, yes, my agonies were frightful," Becky owned, not perhaps without a twinge of conscience. It jarred upon her to be obliged to commence instantly to tell lies in reply to so much confidence and simplicity. But that is the misfortune of beginning with this kind of forgery. When one fib becomes due as it were, you must forge another to take up the old acceptance; and so the stock of your lies in circulation inevitably multiplies, and the danger of detection increases every day.
"My agonies," Becky continued, "were terrible (I hope she won't sit down on the bottle) when they took him away from me; I thought I should die; but I fortunately had a brain fever, during which my doctor gave me up, and--and I recovered, and--and here I am, poor and friendless."
"How old is he?" Emmy asked.
"Eleven," said Becky.
"Eleven!" cried the other. "Why, he was born the same year with Georgy, who is--"
"I know, I know," Becky cried out, who had in fact quite forgotten all about little Rawdon's age. "Grief has made me forget so many things, dearest Amelia. I am very much changed: half-wild sometimes. He was eleven when they took him away from me. Bless his sweet face; I have never seen it again."
"Was he fair or dark?" went on that absurd little Emmy. "Show me his hair."
Becky almost laughed at her simplicity. "Not to-day, love--some other time, when my trunks arrive from Leipzig, whence I came to this place--and a little drawing of him, which I made in happy days."
"Poor Becky, poor Becky!" said Emmy. "How thankful, how thankful I ought to be"; (though I doubt whether that practice of piety inculcated upon us by our womankind in early youth, namely, to be thankful because we are better off than somebody else, be a very rational religious exercise) and then she began to think, as usual, how her son was the handsomest, the best, and the cleverest boy in the whole world.
"You will see my Georgy," was the best thing Emmy could think of to console Becky. If anything could make her comfortable that would.
And so the two women continued talking for an hour or more, during which Becky had the opportunity of giving her new friend a full and complete version of her private history. She showed how her marriage with Rawdon Crawley had always been viewed by the family with feelings of the utmost hostility; how her sister-in-law (an artful woman) had poisoned her husband's mind against her; how he had formed odious connections, which had estranged his affections from her: how she had borne everything--poverty, neglect, coldness from the being whom she most loved--and all for the sake of her child; how, finally, and by the most flagrant outrage, she had been driven into demanding a separation from her husband, when the wretch did not scruple to ask that she should sacrifice her own fair fame so that he might procure advancement through the means of a very great and powerful but unprincipled man--the Marquis of Steyne, indeed. The atrocious monster!
This part of her eventful history Becky gave with the utmost feminine delicacy and the most indignant virtue. Forced to fly her husband's roof by this insult, the coward had pursued his revenge by taking her child from her. And thus Becky said she was a wanderer, poor, unprotected, friendless, and wretched.
Emmy received this story, which was told at some length, as those persons who are acquainted with her character may imagine that she would. She quivered with indignation at the account of the conduct of the miserable Rawdon and the unprincipled Steyne. Her eyes made notes of admiration for every one of the sentences in which Becky described the persecutions of her aristocratic relatives and the falling away of her husband. (Becky did not abuse him. She spoke rather in sorrow than in anger. She had loved him only too fondly: and was he not the father of her boy?) And as for the separation scene from the child, while Becky was reciting it, Emmy retired altogether behind her pocket-handkerchief, so that the consummate little tragedian must have been charmed to see the effect which her performance produced on her audience.
Whilst the ladies were carrying on their conversation, Amelia's constant escort, the Major (who, of course, did not wish to interrupt their conference, and found himself rather tired of creaking about the narrow stair passage of which the roof brushed the nap from his hat) descended to the ground-floor of the house and into the great room common to all the frequenters of the Elephant, out of which the stair led. This apartment is always in a fume of smoke and liberally sprinkled with beer. On a dirty table stand scores of corresponding brass candlesticks with tallow candles for the lodgers, whose keys hang up in rows over the candles. Emmy had passed blushing through the room anon, where all sorts of people were collected; Tyrolese glove-sellers and Danubian linen-merchants, with their packs; students recruiting themselves with butterbrods and meat; idlers, playing cards or dominoes on the sloppy, beery tables; tumblers refreshing during the cessation of their performances--in a word, all the fumum and strepitus of a German inn in fair time. The waiter brought the Major a mug of beer, as a matter of course, and he took out a cigar and amused himself with that pernicious vegetable and a newspaper until his charge should come down to claim him.
Max and Fritz came presently downstairs, their caps on one side, their spurs jingling, their pipes splendid with coats of arms and full-blown tassels, and they hung up the key of No. 90 on the board and called for the ration of butterbrod and beer. The pair sat down by the Major and fell into a conversation of which he could not help hearing somewhat. It was mainly about "Fuchs" and "Philister," and duels and drinking-bouts at the neighbouring University of Schoppenhausen, from which renowned seat of learning they had just come in the Eilwagen, with Becky, as it appeared, by their side, and in order to be present at the bridal fetes at Pumpernickel.
"The title Englanderinn seems to be en bays de gonnoisance," said Max, who knew the French language, to Fritz, his comrade. "After the fat grandfather went away, there came a pretty little compatriot. I heard them chattering and whimpering together in the little woman's chamber."
"We must take the tickets for her concert," Fritz said. "Hast thou any money, Max?"
"Bah," said the other, "the concert is a concert in nubibus. Hans said that she advertised one at Leipzig, and the Burschen took many tickets. But she went off without singing. She said in the coach yesterday that her pianist had fallen ill at Dresden. She cannot sing, it is my belief: her voice is as cracked as thine, O thou beer-soaking Renowner!"
"It is cracked; I hear her trying out of her window a schrecklich. English ballad, called 'De Rose upon de Balgony.'"
"Saufen and singen go not together," observed Fritz with the red nose, who evidently preferred the former amusement. "No, thou shalt take none of her tickets. She won money at the trente and quarante last night. I saw her: she made a little English boy play for her. We will spend thy money there or at the theatre, or we will treat her to French wine or Cognac in the Aurelius Garden, but the tickets we will not buy. What sayest thou? Yet, another mug of beer?" and one and another successively having buried their blond whiskers in the mawkish draught, curled them and swaggered off into the fair.
The Major, who had seen the key of No. 90 put up on its hook and had heard the conversation of the two young University bloods, was not at a loss to understand that their talk related to Becky. "The little devil is at her old tricks," he thought, and he smiled as he recalled old days, when he had witnessed the desperate flirtation with Jos and the ludicrous end of that adventure. He and George had often laughed over it subsequently, and until a few weeks after George's marriage, when he also was caught in the little Circe's toils, and had an understanding with her which his comrade certainly suspected, but preferred to ignore. William was too much hurt or ashamed to ask to fathom that disgraceful mystery, although once, and evidently with remorse on his mind, George had alluded to it. It was on the morning of Waterloo, as the young men stood together in front of their line, surveying the black masses of Frenchmen who crowned the opposite heights, and as the rain was coming down, "I have been mixing in a foolish intrigue with a woman," George said. "I am glad we were marched away. If I drop, I hope Emmy will never know of that business. I wish to God it had never been begun!" And William was pleased to think, and had more than once soothed poor George's widow with the narrative, that Osborne, after quitting his wife, and after the action of Quatre Bras, on the first day, spoke gravely and affectionately to his comrade of his father and his wife. On these facts, too, William had insisted very strongly in his conversations with the elder Osborne, and had thus been the means of reconciling the old gentleman to his son's memory, just at the close of the elder man's life.
"And so this devil is still going on with her intrigues," thought William. "I wish she were a hundred miles from here. She brings mischief wherever she goes." And he was pursuing these forebodings and this uncomfortable train of thought, with his head between his hands, and the Pumpernickel Gazette of last week unread under his nose, when somebody tapped his shoulder with a parasol, and he looked up and saw Mrs. Amelia.
This woman had a way of tyrannizing over Major Dobbin (for the weakest of all people will domineer over somebody), and she ordered him about, and patted him, and made him fetch and carry just as if he was a great Newfoundland dog. He liked, so to speak, to jump into the water if she said "High, Dobbin!" and to trot behind her with her reticule in his mouth. This history has been written to very little purpose if the reader has not perceived that the Major was a spooney.
"Why did you not wait for me, sir, to escort me downstairs?" she said, giving a little toss of her head and a most sarcastic curtsey.
"I couldn't stand up in the passage," he answered with a comical deprecatory look; and, delighted to give her his arm and to take her out of the horrid smoky place, he would have walked off without even so much as remembering the waiter, had not the young fellow run after him and stopped him on the threshold of the Elephant to make him pay for the beer which he had not consumed. Emmy laughed: she called him a naughty man, who wanted to run away in debt, and, in fact, made some jokes suitable to the occasion and the small-beer. She was in high spirits and good humour, and tripped across the market-place very briskly. She wanted to see Jos that instant. The Major laughed at the impetuous affection Mrs. Amelia exhibited; for, in truth, it was not very often that she wanted her brother "that instant." They found the civilian in his saloon on the first-floor; he had been pacing the room, and biting his nails, and looking over the market-place towards the Elephant a hundred times at least during the past hour whilst Emmy was closeted with her friend in the garret and the Major was beating the tattoo on the sloppy tables of the public room below, and he was, on his side too, very anxious to see Mrs. Osborne.
"Well?" said he.
"The poor dear creature, how she has suffered!" Emmy said.
"God bless my soul, yes," Jos said, wagging his head, so that his cheeks quivered like jellies.
"She may have Payne's room, who can go upstairs," Emmy continued. Payne was a staid English maid and personal attendant upon Mrs. Osborne, to whom the courier, as in duty bound, paid court, and whom Georgy used to "lark" dreadfully with accounts of German robbers and ghosts. She passed her time chiefly in grumbling, in ordering about her mistress, and in stating her intention to return the next morning to her native village of Clapham. "She may have Payne's room," Emmy said.
"Why, you don't mean to say you are going to have that woman into the house?" bounced out the Major, jumping up.
"Of course we are," said Amelia in the most innocent way in the world. "Don't be angry and break the furniture, Major Dobbin. Of course we are going to have her here."
"Of course, my dear," Jos said.
"The poor creature, after all her sufferings," Emmy continued; "her horrid banker broken and run away; her husband--wicked wretch-- having deserted her and taken her child away from her" (here she doubled her two little fists and held them in a most menacing attitude before her, so that the Major was charmed to see such a dauntless virago) "the poor dear thing! quite alone and absolutely forced to give lessons in singing to get her bread--and not have her here!"
"Take lessons, my dear Mrs. George," cried the Major, "but don't have her in the house. I implore you don't."
"Pooh," said Jos.
"You who are always good and kind--always used to be at any rate-- I'm astonished at you, Major William," Amelia cried. "Why, what is the moment to help her but when she is so miserable? Now is the time to be of service to her. The oldest friend I ever had, and not--"
"She was not always your friend, Amelia," the Major said, for he was quite angry. This allusion was too much for Emmy, who, looking the Major almost fiercely in the face, said, "For shame, Major Dobbin!" and after having fired this shot, she walked out of the room with a most majestic air and shut her own door briskly on herself and her outraged dignity.
"To allude to THAT!" she said, when the door was closed. "Oh, it was cruel of him to remind me of it," and she looked up at George's picture, which hung there as usual, with the portrait of the boy underneath. "It was cruel of him. If I had forgiven it, ought he to have spoken? No. And it is from his own lips that I know how wicked and groundless my jealousy was; and that you were pure--oh, yes, you were pure, my saint in heaven!"
She paced the room, trembling and indignant. She went and leaned on the chest of drawers over which the picture hung, and gazed and gazed at it. Its eyes seemed to look down on her with a reproach that deepened as she looked. The early dear, dear memories of that brief prime of love rushed back upon her. The wound which years had scarcely cicatrized bled afresh, and oh, how bitterly! She could not bear the reproaches of the husband there before her. It couldn't be. Never, never.
Poor Dobbin; poor old William! That unlucky word had undone the work of many a year--the long laborious edifice of a life of love and constancy--raised too upon what secret and hidden foundations, wherein lay buried passions, uncounted struggles, unknown sacrifices--a little word was spoken, and down fell the fair palace of hope--one word, and away flew the bird which he had been trying all his life to lure!
William, though he saw by Amelia's looks that a great crisis had come, nevertheless continued to implore Sedley, in the most energetic terms, to beware of Rebecca; and he eagerly, almost frantically, adjured Jos not to receive her. He besought Mr. Sedley to inquire at least regarding her; told him how he had heard that she was in the company of gamblers and people of ill repute; pointed out what evil she had done in former days, how she and Crawley had misled poor George into ruin, how she was now parted from her husband, by her own confession, and, perhaps, for good reason. What a dangerous companion she would be for his sister, who knew nothing of the affairs of the world! William implored Jos, with all the eloquence which he could bring to bear, and a great deal more energy than this quiet gentleman was ordinarily in the habit of showing, to keep Rebecca out of his household.
Had he been less violent, or more dexterous, he might have succeeded in his supplications to Jos; but the civilian was not a little jealous of the airs of superiority which the Major constantly exhibited towards him, as he fancied (indeed, he had imparted his opinions to Mr. Kirsch, the courier, whose bills Major Dobbin checked on this journey, and who sided with his master), and he began a blustering speech about his competency to defend his own honour, his desire not to have his affairs meddled with, his intention, in fine, to rebel against the Major, when the colloquy-- rather a long and stormy one--was put an end to in the simplest way possible, namely, by the arrival of Mrs. Becky, with a porter from the Elephant Hotel in charge of her very meagre baggage.
She greeted her host with affectionate respect and made a shrinking, but amicable salutation to Major Dobbin, who, as her instinct assured her at once, was her enemy, and had been speaking against her; and the bustle and clatter consequent upon her arrival brought Amelia out of her room. Emmy went up and embraced her guest with the greatest warmth, and took no notice of the Major, except to fling him an angry look--the most unjust and scornful glance that had perhaps ever appeared in that poor little woman's face since she was born. But she had private reasons of her own, and was bent upon being angry with him. And Dobbin, indignant at the injustice, not at the defeat, went off, making her a bow quite as haughty as the killing curtsey with which the little woman chose to bid him farewell.
He being gone, Emmy was particularly lively and affectionate to Rebecca, and bustled about the apartments and installed her guest in her room with an eagerness and activity seldom exhibited by our placid little friend. But when an act of injustice is to be done, especially by weak people, it is best that it should be done quickly, and Emmy thought she was displaying a great deal of firmness and proper feeling and veneration for the late Captain Osborne in her present behaviour.
Georgy came in from the fetes for dinner-time and found four covers laid as usual; but one of the places was occupied by a lady, instead of by Major Dobbin. "Hullo! where's Dob?" the young gentleman asked with his usual simplicity of language. "Major Dobbin is dining out, I suppose," his mother said, and, drawing the boy to her, kissed him a great deal, and put his hair off his forehead, and introduced him to Mrs. Crawley. "This is my boy, Rebecca," Mrs. Osborne said--as much as to say--can the world produce anything like that? Becky looked at him with rapture and pressed his hand fondly. "Dear boy!" she said--"he is just like my--" Emotion choked her further utterance, but Amelia understood, as well as if she had spoken, that Becky was thinking of her own blessed child. However, the company of her friend consoled Mrs. Crawley, and she ate a very good dinner.
During the repast, she had occasion to speak several times, when Georgy eyed her and listened to her. At the desert Emmy was gone out to superintend further domestic arrangements; Jos was in his great chair dozing over Galignani; Georgy and the new arrival sat close to each other--he had continued to look at her knowingly more than once, and at last he laid down the nutcrackers.
"I say," said Georgy.
"What do you say?" Becky said, laughing.
"You're the lady I saw in the mask at the Rouge et Noir."
"Hush! you little sly creature," Becky said, taking up his hand and kissing it. "Your uncle was there too, and Mamma mustn't know."
"Oh, no--not by no means," answered the little fellow.
"You see we are quite good friends already," Becky said to Emmy, who now re-entered; and it must be owned that Mrs. Osborne had introduced a most judicious and amiable companion into her house.
William, in a state of great indignation, though still unaware of all the treason that was in store for him, walked about the town wildly until he fell upon the Secretary of Legation, Tapeworm, who invited him to dinner. As they were discussing that meal, he took occasion to ask the Secretary whether he knew anything about a certain Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, who had, he believed, made some noise in London; and then Tapeworm, who of course knew all the London gossip, and was besides a relative of Lady Gaunt, poured out into the astonished Major's ears such a history about Becky and her husband as astonished the querist, and supplied all the points of this narrative, for it was at that very table years ago that the present writer had the pleasure of hearing the tale. Tufto, Steyne, the Crawleys, and their history--everything connected with Becky and her previous life passed under the record of the bitter diplomatist. He knew everything and a great deal besides, about all the world--in a word, he made the most astounding revelations to the simple- hearted Major. When Dobbin said that Mrs. Osborne and Mr. Sedley had taken her into their house, Tapeworm burst into a peal of laughter which shocked the Major, and asked if they had not better send into the prison and take in one or two of the gentlemen in shaved heads and yellow jackets who swept the streets of Pumpernickel, chained in pairs, to board and lodge, and act as tutor to that little scapegrace Georgy.
This information astonished and horrified the Major not a little. It had been agreed in the morning (before meeting with Rebecca) that Amelia should go to the Court ball that night. There would be the place where he should tell her. The Major went home, and dressed himself in his uniform, and repaired to Court, in hopes to see Mrs. Osborne. She never came. When he returned to his lodgings all the lights in the Sedley tenement were put out. He could not see her till the morning. I don't know what sort of a night's rest he had with this frightful secret in bed with him.
At the earliest convenient hour in the morning he sent his servant across the way with a note, saying that he wished very particularly to speak with her. A message came back to say that Mrs. Osborne was exceedingly unwell and was keeping her room.
She, too, had been awake all that night. She had been thinking of a thing which had agitated her mind a hundred times before. A hundred times on the point of yielding, she had shrunk back from a sacrifice which she felt was too much for her. She couldn't, in spite of his love and constancy and her own acknowledged regard, respect, and gratitude. What are benefits, what is constancy, or merit? One curl of a girl's ringlet, one hair of a whisker, will turn the scale against them all in a minute. They did not weigh with Emmy more than with other women. She had tried them; wanted to make them pass; could not; and the pitiless little woman had found a pretext, and determined to be free.
When at length, in the afternoon, the Major gained admission to Amelia, instead of the cordial and affectionate greeting, to which he had been accustomed now for many a long day, he received the salutation of a curtsey, and of a little gloved hand, retracted the moment after it was accorded to him.
Rebecca, too, was in the room, and advanced to meet him with a smile and an extended hand. Dobbin drew back rather confusedly, "I--I beg your pardon, m'am," he said; "but I am bound to tell you that it is not as your friend that I am come here now."
"Pooh! damn; don't let us have this sort of thing!" Jos cried out, alarmed, and anxious to get rid of a scene.
"I wonder what Major Dobbin has to say against Rebecca?" Amelia said in a low, clear voice with a slight quiver in it, and a very determined look about the eyes.
"I will not have this sort of thing in my house," Jos again interposed. "I say I will not have it; and Dobbin, I beg, sir, you'll stop it." And he looked round, trembling and turning very red, and gave a great puff, and made for his door.
"Dear friend!" Rebecca said with angelic sweetness, "do hear what Major Dobbin has to say against me."
"I will not hear it, I say," squeaked out Jos at the top of his voice, and, gathering up his dressing-gown, he was gone.
"We are only two women," Amelia said. "You can speak now, sir."
"This manner towards me is one which scarcely becomes you, Amelia," the Major answered haughtily; "nor I believe am I guilty of habitual harshness to women. It is not a pleasure to me to do the duty which I am come to do."
"Pray proceed with it quickly, if you please, Major Dobbin," said Amelia, who was more and more in a pet. The expression of Dobbin's face, as she spoke in this imperious manner, was not pleasant.
"I came to say--and as you stay, Mrs. Crawley, I must say it in your presence--that I think you--you ought not to form a member of the family of my friends. A lady who is separated from her husband, who travels not under her own name, who frequents public gaming-tables--"
"It was to the ball I went," cried out Becky.
"--is not a fit companion for Mrs. Osborne and her son," Dobbin went on: "and I may add that there are people here who know you, and who profess to know that regarding your conduct about which I don't even wish to speak before--before Mrs. Osborne."
"Yours is a very modest and convenient sort of calumny, Major Dobbin," Rebecca said. "You leave me under the weight of an accusation which, after all, is unsaid. What is it? Is it unfaithfulness to my husband? I scorn it and defy anybody to prove it--I defy you, I say. My honour is as untouched as that of the bitterest enemy who ever maligned me. Is it of being poor, forsaken, wretched, that you accuse me? Yes, I am guilty of those faults, and punished for them every day. Let me go, Emmy. It is only to suppose that I have not met you, and I am no worse to-day than I was yesterday. It is only to suppose that the night is over and the poor wanderer is on her way. Don't you remember the song we used to sing in old, dear old days? I have been wandering ever since then--a poor castaway, scorned for being miserable, and insulted because I am alone. Let me go: my stay here interferes with the plans of this gentleman."
"Indeed it does, madam," said the Major. "If I have any authority in this house--"
"Authority, none!" broke out Amelia "Rebecca, you stay with me. I won't desert you because you have been persecuted, or insult you because--because Major Dobbin chooses to do so. Come away, dear." And the two women made towards the door.
William opened it. As they were going out, however, he took Amelia's hand and said--"Will you stay a moment and speak to me?"
"He wishes to speak to you away from me," said Becky, looking like a martyr. Amelia gripped her hand in reply.
"Upon my honour it is not about you that I am going to speak," Dobbin said. "Come back, Amelia," and she came. Dobbin bowed to Mrs. Crawley, as he shut the door upon her. Amelia looked at him, leaning against the glass: her face and her lips were quite white.
"I was confused when I spoke just now," the Major said after a pause, "and I misused the word authority."
"You did," said Amelia with her teeth chattering.
"At least I have claims to be heard," Dobbin continued.
"It is generous to remind me of our obligations to you," the woman answered.
"The claims I mean are those left me by George's father," William said.
"Yes, and you insulted his memory. You did yesterday. You know you did. And I will never forgive you. Never!" said Amelia. She shot out each little sentence in a tremor of anger and emotion.
"You don't mean that, Amelia?" William said sadly. "You don't mean that these words, uttered in a hurried moment, are to weigh against a whole life's devotion? I think that George's memory has not been injured by the way in which I have dealt with it, and if we are come to bandying reproaches, I at least merit none from his widow and the mother of his son. Reflect, afterwards when--when you are at leisure, and your conscience will withdraw this accusation. It does even now." Amelia held down her head.
"It is not that speech of yesterday," he continued, "which moves you. That is but the pretext, Amelia, or I have loved you and watched you for fifteen years in vain. Have I not learned in that time to read all your feelings and look into your thoughts? I know what your heart is capable of: it can cling faithfully to a recollection and cherish a fancy, but it can't feel such an attachment as mine deserves to mate with, and such as I would have won from a woman more generous than you. No, you are not worthy of the love which I have devoted to you. I knew all along that the prize I had set my life on was not worth the winning; that I was a fool, with fond fancies, too, bartering away my all of truth and ardour against your little feeble remnant of love. I will bargain no more: I withdraw. I find no fault with you. You are very good- natured, and have done your best, but you couldn't--you couldn't reach up to the height of the attachment which I bore you, and which a loftier soul than yours might have been proud to share. Good-bye, Amelia! I have watched your struggle. Let it end. We are both weary of it."
Amelia stood scared and silent as William thus suddenly broke the chain by which she held him and declared his independence and superiority. He had placed himself at her feet so long that the poor little woman had been accustomed to trample upon him. She didn't wish to marry him, but she wished to keep him. She wished to give him nothing, but that he should give her all. It is a bargain not unfrequently levied in love.
William's sally had quite broken and cast her down. HER assault was long since over and beaten back.
"Am I to understand then, that you are going--away, William?" she said.
He gave a sad laugh. "I went once before," he said, "and came back after twelve years. We were young then, Amelia. Good-bye. I have spent enough of my life at this play."
Whilst they had been talking, the door into Mrs. Osborne's room had opened ever so little; indeed, Becky had kept a hold of the handle and had turned it on the instant when Dobbin quitted it, and she heard every word of the conversation that had passed between these two. "What a noble heart that man has," she thought, "and how shamefully that woman plays with it!" She admired Dobbin; she bore him no rancour for the part he had taken against her. It was an open move in the game, and played fairly. "Ah!" she thought, "if I could have had such a husband as that--a man with a heart and brains too! I would not have minded his large feet"; and running into her room, she absolutely bethought herself of something, and wrote him a note, beseeching him to stop for a few days--not to think of going-- and that she could serve him with A.
The parting was over. Once more poor William walked to the door and was gone; and the little widow, the author of all this work, had her will, and had won her victory, and was left to enjoy it as she best might. Let the ladies envy her triumph.
At the romantic hour of dinner, Mr. Georgy made his appearance and again remarked the absence of "Old Dob." The meal was eaten in silence by the party. Jos's appetite not being diminished, but Emmy taking nothing at all.
After the meal, Georgy was lolling in the cushions of the old window, a large window, with three sides of glass abutting from the gable, and commanding on one side the market-place, where the Elephant is, his mother being busy hard by, when he remarked symptoms of movement at the Major's house on the other side of the street.
"Hullo!" said he, "there's Dob's trap--they are bringing it out of the court-yard." The "trap" in question was a carriage which the Major had bought for six pounds sterling, and about which they used to rally him a good deal.
Emmy gave a little start, but said nothing.
"Hullo!" Georgy continued, "there's Francis coming out with the portmanteaus, and Kunz, the one-eyed postilion, coming down the market with three schimmels. Look at his boots and yellow jacket-- ain't he a rum one? Why--they're putting the horses to Dob's carriage. Is he going anywhere?"
"Yes," said Emmy, "he is going on a journey."
"Going on a journey; and when is he coming back?"
"He is--not coming back," answered Emmy.
"Not coming back!" cried out Georgy, jumping up. "Stay here, sir," roared out Jos. "Stay, Georgy," said his mother with a very sad face. The boy stopped, kicked about the room, jumped up and down from the window-seat with his knees, and showed every symptom of uneasiness and curiosity.
The horses were put to. The baggage was strapped on. Francis came out with his master's sword, cane, and umbrella tied up together, and laid them in the well, and his desk and old tin cocked-hat case, which he placed under the seat. Francis brought out the stained old blue cloak lined with red camlet, which had wrapped the owner up any time these fifteen years, and had manchen Sturm erlebt, as a favourite song of those days said. It had been new for the campaign of Waterloo and had covered George and William after the night of Quatre Bras.
Old Burcke, the landlord of the lodgings, came out, then Francis, with more packages--final packages--then Major William--Burcke wanted to kiss him. The Major was adored by all people with whom he had to do. It was with difficulty he could escape from this demonstration of attachment.
"By Jove, I will go!" screamed out George. "Give him this," said Becky, quite interested, and put a paper into the boy's hand. He had rushed down the stairs and flung across the street in a minute-- the yellow postilion was cracking his whip gently.
William had got into the carriage, released from the embraces of his landlord. George bounded in afterwards, and flung his arms round the Major's neck (as they saw from the window), and began asking him multiplied questions. Then he felt in his waistcoat pocket and gave him a note. William seized at it rather eagerly, he opened it trembling, but instantly his countenance changed, and he tore the paper in two and dropped it out of the carriage. He kissed Georgy on the head, and the boy got out, doubling his fists into his eyes, and with the aid of Francis. He lingered with his hand on the panel. Fort, Schwager! The yellow postilion cracked his whip prodigiously, up sprang Francis to the box, away went the schimmels, and Dobbin with his head on his breast. He never looked up as they passed under Amelia's window, and Georgy, left alone in the street, burst out crying in the face of all the crowd.
Emmy's maid heard him howling again during the night and brought him some preserved apricots to console him. She mingled her lamentations with his. All the poor, all the humble, all honest folks, all good men who knew him, loved that kind-hearted and simple gentleman.
As for Emmy, had she not done her duty? She had her picture of George for a consolation.

第六十六章    情人的争吵
    爱米丽亚待人又诚恳又好心,所以连蓓基这样无情无义.自甘堕落的人也觉得感动.爱米摩弄着她,用好言好语安慰她,弄得她竟有些良心发现.这种情感虽然不能耐久,倒并不完全是假装的.她这句话"孩子哭着叫着给人从她怀里抢去"......说得真巧妙.这场灾难,就把朋友的心赢回来了.爱米那可怜的小傻瓜和朋友会面之后,当然一开口就要探问这件最不幸的事.
    我们的傻瓜叫道:"原来他们把你的宝贝孩子给抢去了.唉!利蓓加,可怜的受苦的好朋友,失去儿子的滋味我是尝过的,所以我也能够同情跟我一样倒楣的人.亏得上天慈悲,把我的孩子还给我了.求天保佑你!将来你和他重新团圆."
    "孩子,我的孩子?啊,对了,我好伤心哪!"蓓基说话的时候,良心上大概也有些过不去.朋友对她那么信任,那么坦白,而她却不得不立刻用谎话回答,使她心上不大舒服.可是开始说了谎就不免有这种困难.先前说的谎话好比汇票到期后付出的现钱,此后又要再造一句补上去.这样你编的谎话当然越来越多,给人抓住错处的机会也就随着增加.
    蓓基接着说:"他们把他抢去的时候我真伤心得要死(希望她不要坐在酒瓶上面)......我想我怎么也活不下去了.亏得我害了一场热病,医生说我决没有希望恢复.后来......后来我复原之后,我......我就到这儿来了.我又穷,又没有依靠."
    爱米问道:"他几岁了?"
    蓓基答道:"十一岁."
    爱米嚷起来说:"十一岁!怎么的,他和乔杰同年生的.乔杰已经......"
    蓓基其实早已忘了罗登的年龄,慌忙截断她说:"我知道,我知道.最亲爱的爱米丽亚,痛苦使我忘掉了好多事情.我现在变了,有的时候简直是半疯半傻.他们把他拿去的时候他刚好十一岁.愿天保佑他可爱的脸儿,我从那时候起就没有再看见过他."
    荒谬的小爱米又说道:"他的皮肤是白的还是黑的.让我瞧瞧他的头发."
    蓓基见她头脑那么简单,差点儿失声笑起来."亲爱的,今天不给你看了,过些时候再说吧.我是从莱比锡来这儿的,等我的箱子运到之后再给你看.我还有他的一张像,是我给他画的,那时候还过着好日子呢."
    爱米说:"可怜的蓓基,可怜的蓓基!我应该全心全意感谢上天慈悲."(我们小的时候,长一辈的太太们时常教导我们,只要日子过得比别人好,就得感谢天恩.我觉得这样的宗教见解实在不十分合理.)然后爱米又回到平日的老习惯,想起自己的儿子,觉得他是全世界最漂亮.最聪明.最好的孩子.
    爱米要安慰蓓基,她所能想到的最好的办法就是说:"我给你看看我的乔杰."她认为能够替蓓基解愁的,莫过于和乔杰见面.
    两位太太谈了一个多钟头,蓓基乘机把自己的过去详详细细的向新见面的朋友报告了一遍.她说罗登.克劳莱家里一直竭力反对她和罗登的婚姻;她的妯娌又是个诡计多端的女人,挑拨得丈夫跟她不和.她说罗登和邪女人在一起混,后来对她逐渐冷淡.她受尽一切灾难困苦,连她最爱的丈夫也冷淡她;她甘心受罪,无非为了孩子.后来她丈夫混帐到极点,她不得不要求和他分居.原来那混蛋想利用一个大人物的势力向上爬,竟逼着她牺牲她的贞操.这个大人物权势赫赫,可是全无道德......他就是斯丹恩侯爵,那无恶不作的坏蛋.
    蓓基讲到自己一生当中最多事的一段,说的话十分婉转,显出她女人的特色,贞洁妇女对于罪恶的憎恨,也尽量表现出来了.她说她受了这样的侮辱,不得不离开丈夫出走,哪知道这个没肝胆的恶人向她报复,又把她的孩子抢去.这样她只能四处漂泊.她又穷又苦,没有依靠,也没一个亲人.
    爱米听蓓基讲了长长一篇,对于这些话深信不疑,凡是熟悉她性格的人当然早已料到她有这一着.她听到可恶的罗登和无耻的斯丹恩干这种坏事,气得周身发抖.蓓基讲到她婆家的贵人们怎么虐待她,丈夫怎么冷淡她,爱米满眼都是敬服的神情.蓓基说到丈夫,倒并不痛骂他.她的口气里没有忿怒,只有悲伤.她从前对他实在太痴心了.再说,他究竟是她儿子的爸爸啊!爱米听到蓓基描写她怎么和儿子分手的情形,用手帕蒙着脸哭起来.这出色的悲剧演员瞧着看戏的人那么感动,心里准觉得高兴.
    两位太太在里面谈话,爱米丽亚忠心的护卫都宾少佐当然不好进去打岔.他在狭小的过道里踱来踱去,鞋子吱吱的响,帽子上的毡毛都给天花板刮掉了.他等得厌烦起来,就顺着楼梯一直走到底层的大房间.凡是到大象旅社来的人都在此地歇脚.屋子里烟雾弥漫,到处滴滴嗒嗒的啤酒.一张肮脏的桌子上搁着几十个铜烛台,上面插着牛脂蜡烛,凡是宿在客店里的客人一人有一支.紧靠烛台的墙上挂着客人们房门上的钥匙,排成一排.爱米刚才穿过这间大敞房的时候窘得脸上发红.那里面坐着各色各样的人,有泰洛利地方的手套商人,有多瑙河一带的衬衣商人带着一包包的货色.学生们吃着牛油面包和肉;游手好闲的家伙在湿漉漉满是酒渍的桌子上玩纸牌和掷骰子;演杂技的表演了一场之后,也进来吃些东西补补力气.总之,凡是德国小客床里逢上赶集的时候该有的嘈杂和烟味儿,这里都有了.茶房自作主张给少佐斟上一大杯啤酒.他拿出一支雪茄烟,一面看报,一面抽那有毒的烟叶子,自己消遣着,等他负责照管的太太下来找他.
    不久,马克斯和立兹下楼来了,头上歪戴着帽子,脚上的马刺碰得叮叮当当直响,口里衔着漂亮的烟斗,上面刻着纹章,垂着大大的流苏.他们把九十号房间的钥匙挂在板上,叫茶房把他们份内的牛油面包和肉送上来吃.他们坐在少佐旁边谈天,有些话当然免不了吹到少佐耳朵里去.他们谈的多半是附近叔本霍华生大学里的一年级新学生和附近镇上的居民,描写他们怎么决斗和怎么狂饮大喝.他们这次趁本浦聂格尔王子结婚大典,特地从有名的大学里赶来看热闹,大概在邮车里就坐在蓓基的旁边.马克斯对他朋友立兹说:"那个英国小女人在这儿好像有许多朋友"(他用了些法文字,因为他是懂法文的),"那肥胖的爷爷走了之后,又来了一个漂亮的太太,也是英国人.我听见她们两个在她房里一会儿哭一会儿讲."
    立兹说:"咱们还得买了票上她的音乐会呢.你有钱吗,马克斯?"
    马克斯答道:"呸!她的音乐会是靠不住的.汉斯说她在莱比锡也登了广告说要开音乐会,学生们买了好些票,结果她没有唱就溜了.昨天她在邮车里说她的钢琴师在特莱斯登害病.我想她大概根本不能唱.她的声音又沙又哑,跟你的一样.啊,你这个酒糟的吹牛大王!"
    "她的声音的确又沙又哑.我听得她在窗口唱一支怪难听的英国歌,叫做《月台上的玫瑰花》."
    "一个人要喝酒,就不能再唱歌,"红鼻子的立兹说.他无疑是宁可喝酒的."别买她的票子.昨天她赌赢了.我看见的,她叫一个英国男孩子替她赌钱来着.你的钱,咱们还是花在赌场里,或是戏院子里,或是在奥里利斯花园请她喝法国酒和哥涅克酒,可是音乐会票子是不买的.你说对不对?再叫一杯啤酒好吧?"他们轮流低下头喝酒,把淡黄的胡子浸在令人作呕的饮料里面,然后捻一捻胡子,大摇大摆的向市场走去.
    少佐看见这两个时髦大学生把九十号房间的钥匙挂上钩子,又听了他们的话,当然猜到他们说的就是蓓基.他想:"这小妖精又来耍她的老把戏了."他想起从前的旧事,还记得蓓基没命的向乔斯送情卖俏,结果却落得那么滑稽的下场,忍不住微笑起来.他和乔治时常说起来就好笑,哪知道乔治结婚之后情形就不同了,连他本人也落在瑟茜(希腊神话中善于迷人的女妖,住在爱琴海里的一个岛上,能用毒草把人变成畜生.)手掌之中.他两人中间的纠葛,都宾虽然心里明白,却装做不知道.他非常难过,或许还替朋友觉得丢脸,对于这件不名誉的秘密不愿意细细追问.有一次乔治自己谈起这事,显然很懊悔.滑铁卢大战那天早上,天下着雨,他们两人站在前线,遥望对面山头上黑压压的法国兵,乔治说:"我真糊涂,给一个女人绊住了腿,亏得咱们的部队及时开拔.如果我死掉的话,希望爱米永远不知道这件事情.当初真不该如此荒唐!"奥斯本离开了妻子,在加德白拉打过一仗之后,当天曾经和他朋友严肃而深情的说起自己的父亲和妻子,威廉想到这里,心里觉得很安慰.后来他常把这事讲给可怜的爱米丽亚听,借此减轻她的悲伤.对于奥斯本老头儿,他也一再提起乔治的这些好处.老人临死前能够原谅儿子,就是由于这个原因.
    威廉想:"原来这小妖精还在耍她的老把戏.我只希望她远远的离开这儿就好.她到哪儿就捣乱."他两手托腮,想着这些不愉快的心思,预料有不妙的事情会发生,对着"本浦聂格尔公报"一句也看不进去.正在这时,有人用阳伞在他肩膀上拍了一下,他抬头一看,却是爱米丽亚.
    这个女人有本事把都宾少佐捏在手里任意使唤,因为哪怕是最软弱的人也有个把人可以凭他驱遣.她一时把他呼来喝去,一时抚慰他,叫他拿这样做那样的,简直把他当做一条纽芬兰大狗.他呢,只要她说:"嗨,都宾!"就准备像狗一样跳到水里去,或是嘴里衔着她的网袋在她后面跟着走.如果读者到现在还没有发现都宾少佐是个傻瓜,那么我这本书真是白写了.
    她把脸一扬,带着讥讽的神情向他行了个礼,说道:"请问你干吗不等着陪我下楼?"
    他一脸抱歉的样子,非常可笑,说道:"我在过道里站都站不直."客床里满是烟味,令人厌恶,他恨不得马上带她出去,扶着她就走,把那茶房忘得一干二净.那小伙子追上来在客店门口把他叫住,问他要了啤酒钱,其实那杯酒他一口也没有喝过.爱米笑起来,说他是个坏东西,竟想赖了账不付.关于这件事情和那杯淡啤酒,她还说了几句恰到好处的笑话.她兴致很高,心情也愉快,轻快地穿过市场,说是立刻要去找乔斯.少佐看见爱米丽亚急不及待的样子,忍不住好笑.说老实话,"立刻"要找哥哥谈话,在她是少有的.
    那印度官儿正在二楼客厅里.方才半小时里面,爱米和朋友关在阁楼上谈心,少佐在旅馆底层把指头在湿漉漉的桌上闲敲打,乔斯就在自己屋里踱来踱去,咬着指甲,不时瞧着市上,对大象旅社那边张望.他也是迫不及待的要和奥斯本太太说话.他问道:"怎么样?"
    爱米答道:"可怜东西,她吃了多少苦啊!"
    "求老天保佑我的灵魂!可不是吗!"乔斯一面说,一面摇着头,两个腮帮子就像果冻似的直哆嗦.
    爱米说道:"让她住配恩的房间.叫配恩睡到楼上去."配恩是个稳健的英国女佣人,贴身伺候奥斯本太太.他家的向导正在追求她,仿佛这也是他的责任.乔杰时常捉弄她,跟她讲许多鬼怪妖魔和德国强盗抢家劫舍的故事.她一天到晚唠唠叨叨怨命,把女主人呼来喝去,嘴里说她第二天早上就准备回到克拉本乡村上的老家去.爱米说:"让她住配恩的房间."
    少佐托的跳起身来冲口问道:"怎么的,难道你准备把那个女的接到家里来住吗?"
    爱米丽亚的表情天真的世上少有,她道:"当然.别生气,少佐,回头把家具都碰坏了.当然得把她接回来住."
    乔斯也说:"当然,亲爱的."
    爱米又道:"可怜虫,她已经受够了.她的钱存在一家银行,可是那可恶的银行家破产以后溜掉了.她的丈夫又是个混帐东西,抢了她的孩子,把她丢了不理."(她说到这儿,狠狠的握起拳头,少佐瞧着她这么大胆泼辣,觉得她非常可爱)"可怜的宝贝儿!她无依无靠的,只能靠着教唱歌养活自己.我还能不接她来?"
    少佐嚷道:"亲爱的乔治太太,你去找她学唱歌倒不妨,可是别把她往家里接.我求你别那么着!"
    乔斯道:"呸!"
    爱米丽亚叫道:"都宾少佐,你待人总是那么仁慈宽大......至少你从前总是那么仁慈宽大,我真没想到你会说这话.如果要帮助她,当然得在她最困难的时候帮助她呀.现在不帮她,还等几时?她是我最老的老朋友,又不是......"
    少佐生气得止不住说:"爱米丽亚,她也有过对不住你的时候."爱米一听他话里有因,哪里忍得住.她两眼瞪着少佐,脸上的表情几乎是恶狠狠的,说道:"你真丢人,都宾少佐!"开了这一炮之后,她威风十足的走出屋子,回到卧房,砰的一声关上了门,因为她的尊严受到了侮辱.
    门关上之后,她自言自语道:"他竟会提起那件事!唉!他多狠心,还叫我想起那件事."乔治的肖像仍旧挂在墙上,底下便是儿子的肖像,她抬头看着丈夫,说道:"他真狠心.倘若我都已经原谅了,干吗还要他来说话呢?真岂有此理!而且我怎么知道我的妒忌是没有根据的,是不该有的呢?可不就是他自己对我说的吗?他不是还跟我说你是纯洁的吗?对了,你是纯洁的,我的天上的圣人!"
    她气呼呼的在房里来回踱步,激动的浑身打战.她靠在肖像底下的五斗柜上,呆呆的注视着遗像.画上的眼睛仿佛在责备她.她注视得越长久,眼神里的责备越深.早年昙花一现的爱情生活,多珍贵的回忆!一时都到眼前来了.多少年长不平复的创伤重新迸裂流血,痛得好厉害!丈夫就在她面前,她受不住他的责备.这件事行不得的.永远永远也行不得的!
    可怜的都宾!可怜的威廉!一句逆耳的话摧毁了多少年的工作,他一辈子爱她,对她忠诚不变,仿佛吃尽辛苦慢慢在严藏深埋的屋基上造了一所宫殿......基础是压制下去的深情,没人知道的牺牲,数也数不清的内心的挣扎......如今说了一句话,象征希望的美丽的宫殿从此垮了,一句话,他费了一辈子想捉住的小鸟儿从此飞去了.
    威廉虽然从爱米丽亚的神色上看出事情已经到了紧急关头,可是仍旧苦口劝谏乔斯,叫他对利蓓加存些戒心.他劝乔斯别把利蓓加接到家里来,不但口气恳切,甚至于急怒暴跳.他哀求赛特笠先生先到外面把她的为人打听一下再说.他说他听得蓓基相与的都是赌棍和声名狼藉的人,况且她从前就搅得他们家翻宅乱,和她丈夫克劳莱两人把可怜的乔治引上邪路,现在她自己承认和丈夫分居,这里面一定又有文章.叫这样的人和他的没经世事的妹妹做伴,不是太危险了吗?威廉用尽他的口才,请求乔斯别放利蓓加入门.他平常寡言罕语,说话难得像这样卖力的.
    如果他说话不是那么激烈,或是用的手段乖巧一些,说不定乔斯会听从他的请求.不幸那印度官儿对于他向来妒忌,觉得他对自己态度倨傲(他甚至于还和向导基希先生抱怨过,基希先生一路上开的账单都得经过少佐检查,当然帮着主人)......当下乔斯便气呼呼的回答说他很能保全自己的体面,不要人家管闲事.总而言之,乔斯对于少佐表示反抗.他说了不少话,说得很愤慨.话还没有完,蓓基却带着大象旅社一个搬,拿着她的一点儿行李来了.这样一来,很简单,乔斯的话就给截断了.
    蓓基对主人的态度又亲热又尊敬,打了招呼,然后羞羞缩缩客客气气的见了都宾少佐.她仗着自己的本能,觉得少佐在跟她作对,而且已经说过她的坏话.她一到,屋里顿时忙碌起来,爱米丽亚听得外面砰砰訇訇的声音,从房间里出来.她亲亲热热的跑上去搂着客人,对于少佐却睬都不睬,只狠狠的盯了他一眼.这一眼,怕是可怜的女人有生以来最轻蔑最不讲理的表情了.她自己心里有底子,打定主意要和少佐过不去.都宾也生了气,倒不是因为自己劳而无功,而是觉得对方的态度太不公道.他临走的时候,爱米冷冷的向他屈了一屈膝,样子非常恼人.他打了一躬,倨傲的程度也和她不相上下.
    他走掉之后,爱米对于利蓓加加倍的和蔼活泼,忙忙碌碌的在各房间里穿来穿去,把客人安置妥当.我们的小朋友往常性格沉静.难得这样精神勃发,到处张罗.事实是这样的,凡是故意行事不公道的人,必须趁早一鼓作气才下得了手,意志薄弱的人更容易犯这个毛病.爱米自以为这样就显得自己意志坚定,行事得体,同时对于死去的奥斯本上尉也表示了应有的敬意.
    乔杰看了热闹回来吃饭,发现桌子上照旧摆着四份杯盘刀叉,可是都宾少佐的位子上却坐着一位太太.小少爷说话向来简捷,就说:"嗨,都宾呢?"他妈妈答道:"我想都宾少佐到外面吃饭去了."说着,她把孩子拉到身边,吻了他好几回,把他的头发从脑门上拂开,然后叫他见了克劳莱太太.奥斯本太太说:"这是我的儿子."那口气仿佛说,世界上哪儿还有这样的宝贝?蓓基喜孜孜的瞧着他,温柔地捏着他的手说:"好孩子!他正像我的......"说到这里,她感情起伏得厉害,话都说不下去,可是爱米丽亚不用她说就懂了,知道蓓基正在想她自己心爱的儿子.克劳莱太太有朋友在旁边,稍解悲痛,一餐饭吃得很香.
    吃饭的时候,蓓基好几次开口说话.她一开口,乔杰便瞧着她很留心的听着.到上甜点的时候,爱米有事情要吩咐佣人,到外面去了;乔斯坐在大椅子里拿着《加里涅尼》报纸打盹;乔杰和新客人坐得很近,他原来已经对她极有含蓄的看了好几眼,这时便放下胡桃夹,说道:"我说呀!"
    蓓基笑道:"你说什么?"
    "你就是赌台旁边那个戴面罩的太太."
    "嘘!你这调皮的小人儿,"蓓基一面说,一面拉着他的手吻了一下,"你舅舅那天也在,快别告诉妈妈."
    孩子答道:"当然不告诉."
    这时爱米又进来了,蓓基对她说:"你瞧,我们两个已经很投机了."说句公平话,奥斯本太太请到家里来的客人待人和蔼可亲,的确是个好伴侣.
    威廉气忿忿的离了他们家里,却还没有知道自己将来会受到什么无情无义的待遇.他气呼呼的在城里走着,恰好碰见代理公使铁泼窝姆,给约去吃了一餐饭.他们一面品评饭菜,都宾便趁机打听代理公使可认得一个叫罗登.克劳莱太太的女人,因为好像在伦敦她曾经哄动一时.铁泼窝姆对于伦敦城里的传闻熟悉得很,又是岗脱夫人的亲戚,便把蓓基夫妻俩的故事原原本本讲给少佐听,使他大吃一惊.本书的许多情节,也是根据他的叙述而来的,因为当年我和他们同桌,所以才能听到这篇故事.德夫托.斯丹恩和克劳莱各家的历史,所有和蓓基以及她的过去有关的事情,这位牢骚的外交家讲得头头是道.所有的人的所有的事,他没有一件不知道......或许还不止.总而言之,他的话对于老实的少佐真是惊心动魄的大发现.都宾讲到奥斯本太太和赛特笠先生已经收留了她,铁泼窝姆哈哈大笑,把都宾又吓了一跳.铁泼窝姆说他们何不到监牢里请一两个犯人回家做乔杰那小混蛋的老师呢?那些剃光了头.穿着黄色囚衣.用链子一对一对锁着,在本浦聂格尔当清道夫的犯人有的是.
    少佐没有料到会有这样的情报,听得毛发悚然.早晨没见利蓓加之前,他曾经和爱米丽亚约好晚上到宫里参加跳舞会,那么正好可以在宫里把一切都告诉她.少佐回到家里,穿上制服,到宫里等着,希望能见到奥斯本太太.可是她没有去.到他回家的时候,赛特笠家里已经没有灯光,他只好等到第二天早晨再见她.当晚他带着这么可怕的秘密上床,不知道他怎么睡的.
    第二天早晨,他尽早打发佣人送了一封短信到对街去,信上说明有要事和她商量.哪知回信来了,只说奥斯本太太很不舒服,睡在房里不能出来.
    她也是一夜没有好睡,一直在想心事.这件心事已经不知多少回使她心神不宁.她也不知多少回要想放弃成见,无奈事到临头,她总觉得牺牲太大,便又止步回身了.虽然他对自己百般爱惜,忠实到底,自己对他也很器重,很感激,很尊敬,可是这件事总不能行.一切的功绩.恩惠.不变的忠诚,可算什么呢?在天平上称起来,分量往往还比不过女人的一绺头发或是男人的一根胡子.拿着爱米来说,也不见得比别的女人更看重这些好处.她也曾经努力想把它们算作合格的品质,不过老是委决不下.狠心的女人现在有了借口,打定主意把自己解脱出来.
    当天下午,少佐总算见着了爱米丽亚.现在每逢他来的时候,爱米总是亲亲热热的招呼他,已经成了习惯,可是那天她只对他行了一个礼,伸出戴手套的小手给他握了一握,马上又缩回去了.
    利蓓加也在屋里,微笑着向他走过来,预备和他握手.都宾显得很狼狈,往后退了一步说道:"对......对不起,太太,我得先告诉你,我到此地来的目的是对你不利的."
    乔斯心下着忙,竭力想避免正面冲突,忙道:"得了得了,这种事咱们不必多谈."
    爱米丽亚的眼神非常坚定,她的声音低沉而清楚,还带着一点颤抖,说道:"我倒不知道都宾少佐对于利蓓加究竟有什么过不去的地方."
    乔斯重新插嘴道:"我不准人家在我屋里胡闹.这个我不准的!都宾,请你别那么着."他身上发抖,头脸红涨,呼了一大口气,向门口跑去.
    利蓓加做出天使一般温柔的样子说:"亲爱的朋友,听听都宾少佐究竟要说我什么坏话."
    乔斯扯起嗓子尖声叫道:"我偏不要听."说着,整一整晨衣逃掉了.
    爱米丽亚说:"我们两个都是弱女子,您请开口罢!"
    少佐傲然说道:"爱米丽亚,你把这种态度对待我不大合适.我想我也并不是欺负弱女子的人.我现在是尽我应尽的责任,这件事我也并不爱做."
    爱米丽亚越来越暴躁,说道:"都宾少佐,有话请你快快的说!"她这么盛气凌人,都宾的脸色也变得难看起来.
    "我的来意是这样的......克劳莱太太,既然你不走,我只好当着你的面说了.我认为你......你不应该住到我朋友的家里来.你已经和丈夫分居,旅行的时候又不用自己的真姓名,又常到赌场赌钱......"
    蓓基叫起来说:"我是去跳舞的!"
    都宾接着说:"奥斯本太太和她的儿子不能和你这样的人在一起.我还可以告诉你,这儿有人认识你,知道你过去的行为.关于这一点,我甚至于不愿意在......在奥斯本太太面前多说."
    利蓓加说:"都宾少佐,你毁谤我的话说得真谨慎真巧妙.你加了我一个罪名,可是又不肯明说.我的罪名究竟是什么呢?对丈夫不忠诚吗?我瞧不起这话!看谁能够证明错处在我.不妨就请你来证明.我是清白的,哪怕我最狠心的冤家,骂我骂得最恶毒的人,也不比我更干净.你是不是骂我穷苦.倒楣.没人理睬呢?这些罪过我倒全有,而且每天为着它们受苦.爱米,让我走吧.譬如我没有碰见你,那么我现在也不比从前更命苦!只算是黑夜过了,可怜的流浪者又得从新上路.你还记得咱们从前唱的一支歌吗?唉,从前的日子多好!从那时候起,我就到处漂泊.我是个没人理的可怜虫.因为我苦恼,人家瞧不起我.因为我单身没个依靠,人家欺负我.让我走吧.我在这儿显然是跟这位先生厉害冲突的."
    少佐道:"太太,的确是厉害冲突的.如果我在他们家里能够行使权力的话......"
    爱米丽亚打断他的话说:"权力,你没有权力!利蓓加,你就住我家.我不会因为你受了压迫,就丢了你不管,也不会因为......因为都宾少佐欺负你,就也跟着作践你.亲爱的,来吧."说着,两个女的都向门口走去.
    威廉开了门,可是当她们出去的时候,他拉着爱米丽亚的手说:"能不能请你留下,我想和你谈谈."
    蓓基像个殉难者似的说道:"他要在我背后跟你说话呢!"爱米丽亚的回答就是紧紧的攥住了她的手.
    都宾说道:"我拿信义担保,我的话与你无关.爱米丽亚,来吧."她依言进来.都宾对克劳莱太太鞠了一躬,把门关好.爱米丽亚靠在镜子上望着他,脸上唇上都没有血色.
    少佐道:"我刚才说话的时候失于检点,不该用了权力两个字."
    爱米丽亚的牙齿格格打战,说道:"你是不对."
    都宾道:"至少我有权利要求向你说几句话."
    那女的回答道:"你真慷慨,还来提醒我,怕我忘了你给我们的恩惠."
    威廉说:"我所说的权利,是乔治的父亲留给我的."
    "对了,而你却侮辱他.昨天你的确侮辱他来着.你自己反正也明白.我永远不能饶你.永远不能饶你!"爱米丽亚又气又激动,抖巍巍的一句句冲着都宾说.
    威廉忧郁地说道:"爱米丽亚,你这话不是当真吧?难道我一时匆忙说错的几句话,竟比一辈子的忠心还重吗?我认为我的行事,并没有侮辱乔治的地方.假如咱们彼此责备,我想乔治的老婆,乔治儿子的母亲,总不能再抱怨我.以后到......到你有了闲空,你再仔细想一想,你的良心准会收回你现在说的话.你现在已经把它收回了."爱米丽亚低了头.
    他接着说:"你激动的原因,并不是昨天的一席话.爱米丽亚,那些话不过是个借口.这十五年来我一直爱你,护着你,这点儿意思还猜不出来吗?多少年来我已经懂得怎么测度你的感情和分析你的思想了.我知道你的感情有多深多浅.你能够忠忠心心的抱着回忆不放,把幻想当无价之宝,可是对于我的深情却无动于中,不能拿相称的感情来报答我.如果换了一个慷慨大量的女人,我一定已经赢得了她的心了.你配不上我贡献给你的爱情.我一向也知道我一辈子费尽心力要想得到的宝贝物儿不值什么.我知道我是个傻瓜,也是一脑袋痴心妄想,为了你的浅薄的.残缺不全的爱情,甘心把我的热诚.我的忠心,全部献出来.现在我不跟你再讲价钱,我自愿放弃了.我并不怪你,你心地不坏,并且已经尽了你的力.可是你够不上......你够不上我给你的爱情.一个品质比你高贵的人也许倒会因为能够分享我这点儿爱情而觉得得意呢.再见,爱米丽亚!我一向留神看着你内心的挣扎.现在不必挣扎了.咱们两个对于它都厌倦了."
    威廉这样突如其来挣断了爱米丽亚牵着他的铁链子,发表了独立宣言,并且表示自己高出于爱米丽亚,使她害怕起来,话也说不出.他一向对她低头服小,因此可怜的女人总是作践他,已经成了习惯.她不肯嫁他,可是也不愿意放他走.她自己什么也不拿出来,可是希望他为自己献出一切.在恋爱的过程中,这样的交易并不在少数.
    威廉的突击打败了她,使她垂头丧气.她自己的一着是早已输掉了.
    她说:"那么,你是不是......打算......离开这儿呢,威廉?"
    他忧闷地笑了一笑说:"从前我也曾经离开过你一回,过了十二年才又回来.爱米丽亚,那会儿咱们都还年轻呢.再见吧,我这一辈子化了这么些时候搞这个玩意儿,已经够了."
    他们说话的当儿,奥斯本太太的房门开了一条小缝.原来蓓基一直抓着门把子没有放,都宾一走,她就开了门,里面两个人的对话,全让她听了去.她想:"那个人心地多么高尚!那女的这么玩弄他,真是可恶!"她很佩服都宾.虽然他反对她,她倒并不怀恨.他的一着棋子走的光明正大,待人还是公道的.她想:"啊!如果我嫁得着这么一个有脑子有心肝的丈夫,就是他的脚板大些儿,我也不嫌他."她急急回到自己房里,竟然想帮他的忙,写了一个条子,求他暂缓几日再走,说是关于爱米的事情她可以为他效劳.
    当时他们两个已经分别.可怜的威廉重新走到门口,从此去了.这一切全是年轻的寡妇所促成的.她已经遂心如意,打了胜仗,现在剩她一个人,可以尽她所能庆祝胜利了.太太小姐们都来羡慕她吧!
    开饭的时候(奇妙的好时光!)乔杰先生进来,发现都宾又没有来.他们闷闷的吃了一餐饭,大家不开口,乔斯的胃口仍旧很好,可是爱米什么也没有吃.
    饭后,乔杰在窗口靠垫堆里躺着.这窗子极其宽敞,年代已经很深,从三角楼往外凸出去,三面都是玻璃.从一面看下去,正是市场,大象旅社就在那里.乔杰躺在靠垫堆里,他母亲就在旁边忙这样忙那样.忽然他发现对街少佐屋子里乱哄哄有人走动.
    他说:"喝!那是都宾的小马车.他们把它从空场上搬到街上来了."他所谓的小马车是少佐花了六镑钱买下来的,大家常常为这件事取笑他.
    爱米怔了一怔,可是没有说话.
    乔杰接着说:"喝!兰西斯拿着行李袋.那个一只眼的车夫孔慈领着三匹马从市场来了.瞧他的靴子和黄衣服,他多滑稽!唷,他们在把马套到都宾车上去呢.他要出门吗?"
    爱米说:"是的.他要出门旅行."
    "出门旅行?他什么时候回来呢?"
    爱米答道:"他......他不回来了."
    乔杰跳起来叫道:"不回来了!"乔斯喝道:"呆在这儿别动!"他的母亲愁眉苦脸的说:"呆在这儿,乔杰."孩子果然不出去,可是又好奇又着急,一时在屋里东踢西踢,一时跪在位子上用膝盖跳上跳下.
    马已经套好,行李也都扣到车上去了.兰西斯出来,手上拿着他主人的剑.手杖和伞.这些东西给捆成一束,搁在车身里空的地方.一张小书台,一只专搁硬边帽子的旧铅皮帽匣,都塞在座位底下.兰西斯又拿出他那蓝呢面子.红色毛丝缎里子的旧大衣来.这件大衣穿了有十五年,就像流行歌曲里说的,是久经沧桑的了.在滑铁卢大战的时候它还是簇新的,加德白拉之战以后,乔治和威廉晚上就用它当被子.
    房东勃尔克老头儿先出来,兰西斯又拿着好些包裹跟在后面,这些是最后一批包裹.接着出来的便是威廉少佐.勃尔克要跟他亲吻.凡是和少佐有来往的人没有一个不爱他的.他费了好大力气才从房东的怀抱中脱身出来.
    乔治尖声叫道:"我不管,我偏要下去!"蓓基也很关心,她把一张纸条塞在孩子手里说道:"把这个给他."要不了一会儿功夫,他已经冲下楼梯奔到对街去了.穿黄衣的马夫正在轻轻的挥着鞭子括括作声.威廉从房东的怀抱里脱身出来,进了车子.乔治跟着跳进去一把抱住少佐的脖子问长问短......他们在窗子里都看得见.然后他摸摸背心口袋,掏出一张纸条交给少佐.威廉很着急的一把夺了,手抖抖的展开信纸来看.可是一看之后,他的脸色立刻变了,把它一撕两半扔在窗外.他吻了乔杰的头.孩子给兰西斯拉着走出了马车,一面把拳头紧紧掩着两眼,然后恋恋不舍的摸着车身.用力呀,车夫!穿黄衣的车夫把鞭子抽得劈劈啪啪的响,兰西斯跳上高座坐在车夫旁边.马儿开步走了,车子里面的都宾低着头.车子走过爱米丽亚的窗口,他也没有抬头看一眼.乔杰还在街上,车一走,他当着大家的面号哭起来.
    晚上,爱米的女佣人听见他又在睡梦里大声痛哭,便拿了些杏酱去安慰他.她也陪着他伤心.所有没有钱的,苦恼的老实人,所有的好人,只要认识这位慈祥诚恳的先生,没有一个不敬爱他.
    至于爱米呢,她不是已经尽了责任了吗?她反正有乔治的肖像安慰她.

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顶端

峈暄莳苡

ZxID：13764889

401894鲜花 224鸡蛋

等级: 内阁元老

配偶: 妖紫魅

潜水随缘！周年：5.27结婚,9.21文编10.23结拜,12.23注册

举报只看该作者 71楼发表于: 2013-10-24 0

CHAPTER LXVII
Which Contains Births, Marriages, and Deaths
Whatever Becky's private plan might be by which Dobbin's true love was to be crowned with success, the little woman thought that the secret might keep, and indeed, being by no means so much interested about anybody's welfare as about her own, she had a great number of things pertaining to herself to consider, and which concerned her a great deal more than Major Dobbin's happiness in this life.
She found herself suddenly and unexpectedly in snug comfortable quarters, surrounded by friends, kindness, and good-natured simple people such as she had not met with for many a long day; and, wanderer as she was by force and inclination, there were moments when rest was pleasant to her. As the most hardened Arab that ever careered across the desert over the hump of a dromedary likes to repose sometimes under the date-trees by the water, or to come into the cities, walk into the bazaars, refresh himself in the baths, and say his prayers in the mosques, before he goes out again marauding, so Jos's tents and pilau were pleasant to this little Ishmaelite. She picketed her steed, hung up her weapons, and warmed herself comfortably by his fire. The halt in that roving, restless life was inexpressibly soothing and pleasant to her.
So, pleased herself, she tried with all her might to please everybody; and we know that she was eminent and successful as a practitioner in the art of giving pleasure. As for Jos, even in that little interview in the garret at the Elephant Inn, she had found means to win back a great deal of his good-will. In the course of a week, the civilian was her sworn slave and frantic admirer. He didn't go to sleep after dinner, as his custom was in the much less lively society of Amelia. He drove out with Becky in his open carriage. He asked little parties and invented festivities to do her honour.
Tapeworm, the Charge d'Affaires, who had abused her so cruelly, came to dine with Jos, and then came every day to pay his respects to Becky. Poor Emmy, who was never very talkative, and more glum and silent than ever after Dobbin's departure, was quite forgotten when this superior genius made her appearance. The French Minister was as much charmed with her as his English rival. The German ladies, never particularly squeamish as regards morals, especially in English people, were delighted with the cleverness and wit of Mrs. Osborne's charming friend, and though she did not ask to go to Court, yet the most august and Transparent Personages there heard of her fascinations and were quite curious to know her. When it became known that she was noble, of an ancient English family, that her husband was a Colonel of the Guard, Excellenz and Governor of an island, only separated from his lady by one of those trifling differences which are of little account in a country where Werther is still read and the Wahlverwandtschaften of Goethe is considered an edifying moral book, nobody thought of refusing to receive her in the very highest society of the little Duchy; and the ladies were even more ready to call her du and to swear eternal friendship for her than they had been to bestow the same inestimable benefits upon Amelia. Love and Liberty are interpreted by those simple Germans in a way which honest folks in Yorkshire and Somersetshire little understand, and a lady might, in some philosophic and civilized towns, be divorced ever so many times from her respective husbands and keep her character in society. Jos's house never was so pleasant since he had a house of his own as Rebecca caused it to be. She sang, she played, she laughed, she talked in two or three languages, she brought everybody to the house, and she made Jos believe that it was his own great social talents and wit which gathered the society of the place round about him.
As for Emmy, who found herself not in the least mistress of her own house, except when the bills were to be paid, Becky soon discovered the way to soothe and please her. She talked to her perpetually about Major Dobbin sent about his business, and made no scruple of declaring her admiration for that excellent, high-minded gentleman, and of telling Emmy that she had behaved most cruelly regarding him. Emmy defended her conduct and showed that it was dictated only by the purest religious principles; that a woman once, &c., and to such an angel as him whom she had had the good fortune to marry, was married forever; but she had no objection to hear the Major praised as much as ever Becky chose to praise him, and indeed, brought the conversation round to the Dobbin subject a score of times every day.
Means were easily found to win the favour of Georgy and the servants. Amelia's maid, it has been said, was heart and soul in favour of the generous Major. Having at first disliked Becky for being the means of dismissing him from the presence of her mistress, she was reconciled to Mrs. Crawley subsequently, because the latter became William's most ardent admirer and champion. And in those nightly conclaves in which the two ladies indulged after their parties, and while Miss Payne was "brushing their 'airs," as she called the yellow locks of the one and the soft brown tresses of the other, this girl always put in her word for that dear good gentleman Major Dobbin. Her advocacy did not make Amelia angry any more than Rebecca's admiration of him. She made George write to him constantly and persisted in sending Mamma's kind love in a postscript. And as she looked at her husband's portrait of nights, it no longer reproached her--perhaps she reproached it, now William was gone.
Emmy was not very happy after her heroic sacrifice. She was very distraite, nervous, silent, and ill to please. The family had never known her so peevish. She grew pale and ill. She used to try to sing certain songs ("Einsam bin ich nicht alleine," was one of them, that tender love-song of Weber's which in old-fashioned days, young ladies, and when you were scarcely born, showed that those who lived before you knew too how to love and to sing) certain songs, I say, to which the Major was partial; and as she warbled them in the twilight in the drawing-room, she would break off in the midst of the song, and walk into her neighbouring apartment, and there, no doubt, take refuge in the miniature of her husband.
Some books still subsisted, after Dobbin's departure, with his name written in them; a German dictionary, for instance, with "William Dobbin, --th Reg.," in the fly-leaf; a guide-book with his initials; and one or two other volumes which belonged to the Major. Emmy cleared these away and put them on the drawers, where she placed her work-box, her desk, her Bible, and prayer-book, under the pictures of the two Georges. And the Major, on going away, having left his gloves behind him, it is a fact that Georgy, rummaging his mother's desk some time afterwards, found the gloves neatly folded up and put away in what they call the secret-drawers of the desk.
Not caring for society, and moping there a great deal, Emmy's chief pleasure in the summer evenings was to take long walks with Georgy (during which Rebecca was left to the society of Mr. Joseph), and then the mother and son used to talk about the Major in a way which even made the boy smile. She told him that she thought Major William was the best man in all the world--the gentlest and the kindest, the bravest and the humblest. Over and over again she told him how they owed everything which they possessed in the world to that kind friend's benevolent care of them; how he had befriended them all through their poverty and misfortunes; watched over them when nobody cared for them; how all his comrades admired him though he never spoke of his own gallant actions; how Georgy's father trusted him beyond all other men, and had been constantly befriended by the good William. "Why, when your papa was a little boy," she said, "he often told me that it was William who defended him against a tyrant at the school where they were; and their friendship never ceased from that day until the last, when your dear father fell."
"Did Dobbin kill the man who killed Papa?" Georgy said. "I'm sure he did, or he would if he could have caught him, wouldn't he, Mother? When I'm in the Army, won't I hate the French?--that's all."
In such colloquies the mother and the child passed a great deal of their time together. The artless woman had made a confidant of the boy. He was as much William's friend as everybody else who knew him well.
By the way, Mrs. Becky, not to be behind hand in sentiment, had got a miniature too hanging up in her room, to the surprise and amusement of most people, and the delight of the original, who was no other than our friend Jos. On her first coming to favour the Sedleys with a visit, the little woman, who had arrived with a remarkably small shabby kit, was perhaps ashamed of the meanness of her trunks and bandboxes, and often spoke with great respect about her baggage left behind at Leipzig, which she must have from that city. When a traveller talks to you perpetually about the splendour of his luggage, which he does not happen to have with him, my son, beware of that traveller! He is, ten to one, an impostor.
Neither Jos nor Emmy knew this important maxim. It seemed to them of no consequence whether Becky had a quantity of very fine clothes in invisible trunks; but as her present supply was exceedingly shabby, Emmy supplied her out of her own stores, or took her to the best milliner in the town and there fitted her out. It was no more torn collars now, I promise you, and faded silks trailing off at the shoulder. Becky changed her habits with her situation in life--the rouge-pot was suspended--another excitement to which she had accustomed herself was also put aside, or at least only indulged in in privacy, as when she was prevailed on by Jos of a summer evening, Emmy and the boy being absent on their walks, to take a little spirit-and-water. But if she did not indulge--the courier did: that rascal Kirsch could not be kept from the bottle, nor could he tell how much he took when he applied to it. He was sometimes surprised himself at the way in which Mr. Sedley's Cognac diminished. Well, well, this is a painful subject. Becky did not very likely indulge so much as she used before she entered a decorous family.
At last the much-bragged-about boxes arrived from Leipzig; three of them not by any means large or splendid; nor did Becky appear to take out any sort of dresses or ornaments from the boxes when they did arrive. But out of one, which contained a mass of her papers (it was that very box which Rawdon Crawley had ransacked in his furious hunt for Becky's concealed money), she took a picture with great glee, which she pinned up in her room, and to which she introduced Jos. It was the portrait of a gentleman in pencil, his face having the advantage of being painted up in pink. He was riding on an elephant away from some cocoa-nut trees and a pagoda: it was an Eastern scene.
"God bless my soul, it is my portrait," Jos cried out. It was he indeed, blooming in youth and beauty, in a nankeen jacket of the cut of 1804. It was the old picture that used to hang up in Russell Square.
"I bought it," said Becky in a voice trembling with emotion; "I went to see if I could be of any use to my kind friends. I have never parted with that picture--I never will."
"Won't you?" Jos cried with a look of unutterable rapture and satisfaction. "Did you really now value it for my sake?"
"You know I did, well enough," said Becky; "but why speak--why think--why look back! It is too late now!"
That evening's conversation was delicious for Jos. Emmy only came in to go to bed very tired and unwell. Jos and his fair guest had a charming tete-a-tete, and his sister could hear, as she lay awake in her adjoining chamber, Rebecca singing over to Jos the old songs of 1815. He did not sleep, for a wonder, that night, any more than Amelia.
It was June, and, by consequence, high season in London; Jos, who read the incomparable Galignani (the exile's best friend) through every day, used to favour the ladies with extracts from his paper during their breakfast. Every week in this paper there is a full account of military movements, in which Jos, as a man who had seen service, was especially interested. On one occasion he read out-- "Arrival of the --th regiment. Gravesend, June 20.--The Ramchunder, East Indiaman, came into the river this morning, having on board 14 officers, and 132 rank and file of this gallant corps. They have been absent from England fourteen years, having been embarked the year after Waterloo, in which glorious conflict they took an active part, and having subsequently distinguished themselves in the Burmese war. The veteran colonel, Sir Michael O'Dowd, K.C.B., with his lady and sister, landed here yesterday, with Captains Posky, Stubble, Macraw, Malony; Lieutenants Smith, Jones, Thompson, F. Thomson; Ensigns Hicks and Grady; the band on the pier playing the national anthem, and the crowd loudly cheering the gallant veterans as they went into Wayte's hotel, where a sumptuous banquet was provided for the defenders of Old England. During the repast, which we need not say was served up in Wayte's best style, the cheering continued so enthusiastically that Lady O'Dowd and the Colonel came forward to the balcony and drank the healths of their fellow- countrymen in a bumper of Wayte's best claret."
On a second occasion Jos read a brief announcement--Major Dobbin had joined the --th regiment at Chatham; and subsequently he promulgated accounts of the presentations at the Drawing-room of Colonel Sir Michael O'Dowd, K.C.B., Lady O'Dowd (by Mrs. Malloy Malony of Ballymalony), and Miss Glorvina O'Dowd (by Lady O'Dowd). Almost directly after this, Dobbin's name appeared among the Lieutenant- Colonels: for old Marshal Tiptoff had died during the passage of the --th from Madras, and the Sovereign was pleased to advance Colonel Sir Michael O'Dowd to the rank of Major-General on his return to England, with an intimation that he should be Colonel of the distinguished regiment which he had so long commanded.
Amelia had been made aware of some of these movements. The correspondence between George and his guardian had not ceased by any means: William had even written once or twice to her since his departure, but in a manner so unconstrainedly cold that the poor woman felt now in her turn that she had lost her power over him and that, as he had said, he was free. He had left her, and she was wretched. The memory of his almost countless services, and lofty and affectionate regard, now presented itself to her and rebuked her day and night. She brooded over those recollections according to her wont, saw the purity and beauty of the affection with which she had trifled, and reproached herself for having flung away such a treasure.
It was gone indeed. William had spent it all out. He loved her no more, he thought, as he had loved her. He never could again. That sort of regard, which he had proffered to her for so many faithful years, can't be flung down and shattered and mended so as to show no scars. The little heedless tyrant had so destroyed it. No, William thought again and again, "It was myself I deluded and persisted in cajoling; had she been worthy of the love I gave her, she would have returned it long ago. It was a fond mistake. Isn't the whole course of life made up of such? And suppose I had won her, should I not have been disenchanted the day after my victory? Why pine, or be ashamed of my defeat?" The more he thought of this long passage of his life, the more clearly he saw his deception. "I'll go into harness again," he said, "and do my duty in that state of life in which it has pleased Heaven to place me. I will see that the buttons of the recruits are properly bright and that the sergeants make no mistakes in their accounts. I will dine at mess and listen to the Scotch surgeon telling his stories. When I am old and broken, I will go on half-pay, and my old sisters shall scold me. I have geliebt und gelebet, as the girl in 'Wallenstein' says. I am done. Pay the bills and get me a cigar: find out what there is at the play to-night, Francis; to-morrow we cross by the Batavier." He made the above speech, whereof Francis only heard the last two lines, pacing up and down the Boompjes at Rotterdam. The Batavier was lying in the basin. He could see the place on the quarter-deck where he and Emmy had sat on the happy voyage out. What had that little Mrs. Crawley to say to him? Psha; to-morrow we will put to sea, and return to England, home, and duty!
After June all the little Court Society of Pumpernickel used to separate, according to the German plan, and make for a hundred watering-places, where they drank at the wells, rode upon donkeys, gambled at the redoutes if they had money and a mind, rushed with hundreds of their kind to gourmandise at the tables d'hote, and idled away the summer. The English diplomatists went off to Teoplitz and Kissingen, their French rivals shut up their chancellerie and whisked away to their darling Boulevard de Gand. The Transparent reigning family took too to the waters, or retired to their hunting lodges. Everybody went away having any pretensions to politeness, and of course, with them, Doctor von Glauber, the Court Doctor, and his Baroness. The seasons for the baths were the most productive periods of the Doctor's practice--he united business with pleasure, and his chief place of resort was Ostend, which is much frequented by Germans, and where the Doctor treated himself and his spouse to what he called a "dib" in the sea.
His interesting patient, Jos, was a regular milch-cow to the Doctor, and he easily persuaded the civilian, both for his own health's sake and that of his charming sister, which was really very much shattered, to pass the summer at that hideous seaport town. Emmy did not care where she went much. Georgy jumped at the idea of a move. As for Becky, she came as a matter of course in the fourth place inside of the fine barouche Mr. Jos had bought, the two domestics being on the box in front. She might have some misgivings about the friends whom she should meet at Ostend, and who might be likely to tell ugly stories--but bah! she was strong enough to hold her own. She had cast such an anchor in Jos now as would require a strong storm to shake. That incident of the picture had finished him. Becky took down her elephant and put it into the little box which she had had from Amelia ever so many years ago. Emmy also came off with her Lares--her two pictures--and the party, finally, were, lodged in an exceedingly dear and uncomfortable house at Ostend.
There Amelia began to take baths and get what good she could from them, and though scores of people of Becky's acquaintance passed her and cut her, yet Mrs. Osborne, who walked about with her, and who knew nobody, was not aware of the treatment experienced by the friend whom she had chosen so judiciously as a companion; indeed, Becky never thought fit to tell her what was passing under her innocent eyes.
Some of Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's acquaintances, however, acknowledged her readily enough,--perhaps more readily than she would have desired. Among those were Major Loder (unattached), and Captain Rook (late of the Rifles), who might be seen any day on the Dike, smoking and staring at the women, and who speedily got an introduction to the hospitable board and select circle of Mr. Joseph Sedley. In fact they would take no denial; they burst into the house whether Becky was at home or not, walked into Mrs. Osborne's drawing-room, which they perfumed with their coats and mustachios, called Jos "Old buck," and invaded his dinner-table, and laughed and drank for long hours there.
"What can they mean?" asked Georgy, who did not like these gentlemen. "I heard the Major say to Mrs. Crawley yesterday, 'No, no, Becky, you shan't keep the old buck to yourself. We must have the bones in, or, dammy, I'll split.' What could the Major mean, Mamma?"
"Major! don't call him Major!" Emmy said. "I'm sure I can't tell what he meant." His presence and that of his friend inspired the little lady with intolerable terror and aversion. They paid her tipsy compliments; they leered at her over the dinner-table. And the Captain made her advances that filled her with sickening dismay, nor would she ever see him unless she had George by her side.
Rebecca, to do her justice, never would let either of these men remain alone with Amelia; the Major was disengaged too, and swore he would be the winner of her. A couple of ruffians were fighting for this innocent creature, gambling for her at her own table, and though she was not aware of the rascals' designs upon her, yet she felt a horror and uneasiness in their presence and longed to fly.
She besought, she entreated Jos to go. Not he. He was slow of movement, tied to his Doctor, and perhaps to some other leading- strings. At least Becky was not anxious to go to England.
At last she took a great resolution--made the great plunge. She wrote off a letter to a friend whom she had on the other side of the water, a letter about which she did not speak a word to anybody, which she carried herself to the post under her shawl; nor was any remark made about it, only that she looked very much flushed and agitated when Georgy met her, and she kissed him, and hung over him a great deal that night. She did not come out of her room after her return from her walk. Becky thought it was Major Loder and the Captain who frightened her.
"She mustn't stop here," Becky reasoned with herself. "She must go away, the silly little fool. She is still whimpering after that gaby of a husband--dead (and served right!) these fifteen years. She shan't marry either of these men. It's too bad of Loder. No; she shall marry the bamboo cane, I'll settle it this very night."
So Becky took a cup of tea to Amelia in her private apartment and found that lady in the company of her miniatures, and in a most melancholy and nervous condition. She laid down the cup of tea.
"Thank you," said Amelia.
"Listen to me, Amelia," said Becky, marching up and down the room before the other and surveying her with a sort of contemptuous kindness. "I want to talk to you. You must go away from here and from the impertinences of these men. I won't have you harassed by them: and they will insult you if you stay. I tell you they are rascals: men fit to send to the hulks. Never mind how I know them. I know everybody. Jos can't protect you; he is too weak and wants a protector himself. You are no more fit to live in the world than a baby in arms. You must marry, or you and your precious boy will go to ruin. You must have a husband, you fool; and one of the best gentlemen I ever saw has offered you a hundred times, and you have rejected him, you silly, heartless, ungrateful little creature!"
"I tried--I tried my best, indeed I did, Rebecca," said Amelia deprecatingly, "but I couldn't forget--"; and she finished the sentence by looking up at the portrait.
"Couldn't forget HIM!" cried out Becky, "that selfish humbug, that low-bred cockney dandy, that padded booby, who had neither wit, nor manners, nor heart, and was no more to be compared to your friend with the bamboo cane than you are to Queen Elizabeth. Why, the man was weary of you, and would have jilted you, but that Dobbin forced him to keep his word. He owned it to me. He never cared for you. He used to sneer about you to me, time after time, and made love to me the week after he married you."
"It's false! It's false! Rebecca," cried out Amelia, starting up.
"Look there, you fool," Becky said, still with provoking good humour, and taking a little paper out of her belt, she opened it and flung it into Emmy's lap. "You know his handwriting. He wrote that to me--wanted me to run away with him--gave it me under your nose, the day before he was shot--and served him right!" Becky repeated.
Emmy did not hear her; she was looking at the letter. It was that which George had put into the bouquet and given to Becky on the night of the Duchess of Richmond's ball. It was as she said: the foolish young man had asked her to fly.
Emmy's head sank down, and for almost the last time in which she shall be called upon to weep in this history, she commenced that work. Her head fell to her bosom, and her hands went up to her eyes; and there for a while, she gave way to her emotions, as Becky stood on and regarded her. Who shall analyse those tears and say whether they were sweet or bitter? Was she most grieved because the idol of her life was tumbled down and shivered at her feet, or indignant that her love had been so despised, or glad because the barrier was removed which modesty had placed between her and a new, a real affection? "There is nothing to forbid me now," she thought. "I may love him with all my heart now. Oh, I will, I will, if he will but let me and forgive me." I believe it was this feeling rushed over all the others which agitated that gentle little bosom.
Indeed, she did not cry so much as Becky expected--the other soothed and kissed her--a rare mark of sympathy with Mrs. Becky. She treated Emmy like a child and patted her head. "And now let us get pen and ink and write to him to come this minute," she said.
"I--I wrote to him this morning," Emmy said, blushing exceedingly. Becky screamed with laughter--"Un biglietto," she sang out with Rosina, "eccolo qua!"--the whole house echoed with her shrill singing.
Two mornings after this little scene, although the day was rainy and gusty, and Amelia had had an exceedingly wakeful night, listening to the wind roaring, and pitying all travellers by land and by water, yet she got up early and insisted upon taking a walk on the Dike with Georgy; and there she paced as the rain beat into her face, and she looked out westward across the dark sea line and over the swollen billows which came tumbling and frothing to the shore. Neither spoke much, except now and then, when the boy said a few words to his timid companion, indicative of sympathy and protection.
"I hope he won't cross in such weather," Emmy said.
"I bet ten to one he does," the boy answered. "Look, Mother, there's the smoke of the steamer." It was that signal, sure enough.
But though the steamer was under way, he might not be on board; he might not have got the letter; he might not choose to come. A hundred fears poured one over the other into the little heart, as fast as the waves on to the Dike.
The boat followed the smoke into sight. Georgy had a dandy telescope and got the vessel under view in the most skilful manner. And he made appropriate nautical comments upon the manner of the approach of the steamer as she came nearer and nearer, dipping and rising in the water. The signal of an English steamer in sight went fluttering up to the mast on the pier. I daresay Mrs. Amelia's heart was in a similar flutter.
Emmy tried to look through the telescope over George's shoulder, but she could make nothing of it. She only saw a black eclipse bobbing up and down before her eyes.
George took the glass again and raked the vessel. "How she does pitch!" he said. "There goes a wave slap over her bows. There's only two people on deck besides the steersman. There's a man lying down, and a--chap in a--cloak with a--Hooray!--it's Dob, by Jingo!" He clapped to the telescope and flung his arms round his mother. As for that lady, let us say what she did in the words of a favourite poet--"Dakruoen gelasasa." She was sure it was William. It could be no other. What she had said about hoping that he would not come was all hypocrisy. Of course he would come; what could he do else but come? She knew he would come.
The ship came swiftly nearer and nearer. As they went in to meet her at the landing-place at the quay, Emmy's knees trembled so that she scarcely could run. She would have liked to kneel down and say her prayers of thanks there. Oh, she thought, she would be all her life saying them!
It was such a bad day that as the vessel came alongside of the quay there were no idlers abroad, scarcely even a commissioner on the look out for the few passengers in the steamer. That young scapegrace George had fled too, and as the gentleman in the old cloak lined with red stuff stepped on to the shore, there was scarcely any one present to see what took place, which was briefly this:
A lady in a dripping white bonnet and shawl, with her two little hands out before her, went up to him, and in the next minute she had altogether disappeared under the folds of the old cloak, and was kissing one of his hands with all her might; whilst the other, I suppose, was engaged in holding her to his heart (which her head just about reached) and in preventing her from tumbling down. She was murmuring something about--forgive--dear William--dear, dear, dearest friend--kiss, kiss, kiss, and so forth--and in fact went on under the cloak in an absurd manner.
When Emmy emerged from it, she still kept tight hold of one of William's hands, and looked up in his face. It was full of sadness and tender love and pity. She understood its reproach and hung down her head.
"It was time you sent for me, dear Amelia," he said.
"You will never go again, William?"
"No, never," he answered, and pressed the dear little soul once more to his heart.
As they issued out of the custom-house precincts, Georgy broke out on them, with his telescope up to his eye, and a loud laugh of welcome; he danced round the couple and performed many facetious antics as he led them up to the house. Jos wasn't up yet; Becky not visible (though she looked at them through the blinds). Georgy ran off to see about breakfast. Emmy, whose shawl and bonnet were off in the passage in the hands of Mrs. Payne, now went to undo the clasp of William's cloak, and--we will, if you please, go with George, and look after breakfast for the Colonel. The vessel is in port. He has got the prize he has been trying for all his life. The bird has come in at last. There it is with its head on his shoulder, billing and cooing close up to his heart, with soft outstretched fluttering wings. This is what he has asked for every day and hour for eighteen years. This is what he pined after. Here it is--the summit, the end--the last page of the third volume. Good-bye, Colonel--God bless you, honest William!--Farewell, dear Amelia--Grow green again, tender little parasite, round the rugged old oak to which you cling!
Perhaps it was compunction towards the kind and simple creature, who had been the first in life to defend her, perhaps it was a dislike to all such sentimental scenes--but Rebecca, satisfied with her part in the transaction, never presented herself before Colonel Dobbin and the lady whom he married. "Particular business," she said, took her to Bruges, whither she went, and only Georgy and his uncle were present at the marriage ceremony. When it was over, and Georgy had rejoined his parents, Mrs. Becky returned (just for a few days) to comfort the solitary bachelor, Joseph Sedley. He preferred a continental life, he said, and declined to join in housekeeping with his sister and her husband.
Emmy was very glad in her heart to think that she had written to her husband before she read or knew of that letter of George's. "I knew it all along," William said; "but could I use that weapon against the poor fellow's memory? It was that which made me suffer so when you--"
"Never speak of that day again," Emmy cried out, so contrite and humble that William turned off the conversation by his account of Glorvina and dear old Peggy O'Dowd, with whom he was sitting when the letter of recall reached him. "If you hadn't sent for me," he added with a laugh, "who knows what Glorvina's name might be now?"
At present it is Glorvina Posky (now Mrs. Major Posky); she took him on the death of his first wife, having resolved never to marry out of the regiment. Lady O'Dowd is also so attached to it that, she says, if anything were to happen to Mick, bedad she'd come back and marry some of 'em. But the Major-General is quite well and lives in great splendour at O'Dowdstown, with a pack of beagles, and (with the exception of perhaps their neighbour, Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty) he is the first man of his county. Her Ladyship still dances jigs, and insisted on standing up with the Master of the Horse at the Lord Lieutenant's last ball. Both she and Glorvina declared that Dobbin had used the latter SHEAMFULLY, but Posky falling in, Glorvina was consoled, and a beautiful turban from Paris appeased the wrath of Lady O'Dowd.
When Colonel Dobbin quitted the service, which he did immediately after his marriage, he rented a pretty little country place in Hampshire, not far from Queen's Crawley, where, after the passing of the Reform Bill, Sir Pitt and his family constantly resided now. All idea of a Peerage was out of the question, the Baronet's two seats in Parliament being lost. He was both out of pocket and out of spirits by that catastrophe, failed in his health, and prophesied the speedy ruin of the Empire.
Lady Jane and Mrs. Dobbin became great friends--there was a perpetual crossing of pony-chaises between the Hall and the Evergreens, the Colonel's place (rented of his friend Major Ponto, who was abroad with his family). Her Ladyship was godmother to Mrs. Dobbin's child, which bore her name, and was christened by the Rev. James Crawley, who succeeded his father in the living: and a pretty close friendship subsisted between the two lads, George and Rawdon, who hunted and shot together in the vacations, were both entered of the same college at Cambridge, and quarrelled with each other about Lady Jane's daughter, with whom they were both, of course, in love. A match between George and that young lady was long a favourite scheme of both the matrons, though I have heard that Miss Crawley herself inclined towards her cousin.
Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's name was never mentioned by either family. There were reasons why all should be silent regarding her. For wherever Mr. Joseph Sedley went, she travelled likewise, and that infatuated man seemed to be entirely her slave. The Colonel's lawyers informed him that his brother-in-law had effected a heavy insurance upon his life, whence it was probable that he had been raising money to discharge debts. He procured prolonged leave of absence from the East India House, and indeed, his infirmities were daily increasing.
On hearing the news about the insurance, Amelia, in a good deal of alarm, entreated her husband to go to Brussels, where Jos then was, and inquire into the state of his affairs. The Colonel quitted home with reluctance (for he was deeply immersed in his History of the Punjaub which still occupies him, and much alarmed about his little daughter, whom he idolizes, and who was just recovering from the chicken-pox) and went to Brussels and found Jos living at one of the enormous hotels in that city. Mrs. Crawley, who had her carriage, gave entertainments, and lived in a very genteel manner, occupied another suite of apartments in the same hotel.
The Colonel, of course, did not desire to see that lady, or even think proper to notify his arrival at Brussels, except privately to Jos by a message through his valet. Jos begged the Colonel to come and see him that night, when Mrs. Crawley would be at a soiree, and when they could meet alone. He found his brother-in-law in a condition of pitiable infirmity--and dreadfully afraid of Rebecca, though eager in his praises of her. She tended him through a series of unheard-of illnesses with a fidelity most admirable. She had been a daughter to him. "But--but--oh, for God's sake, do come and live near me, and--and--see me sometimes," whimpered out the unfortunate man.
The Colonel's brow darkened at this. "We can't, Jos," he said. "Considering the circumstances, Amelia can't visit you."
"I swear to you--I swear to you on the Bible," gasped out Joseph, wanting to kiss the book, "that she is as innocent as a child, as spotless as your own wife."
"It may be so," said the Colonel gloomily, "but Emmy can't come to you. Be a man, Jos: break off this disreputable connection. Come home to your family. We hear your affairs are involved."
"Involved!" cried Jos. "Who has told such calumnies? All my money is placed out most advantageously. Mrs. Crawley--that is--I mean-- it is laid out to the best interest."
"You are not in debt, then? Why did you insure your life?"
"I thought--a little present to her--in case anything happened; and you know my health is so delicate--common gratitude you know--and I intend to leave all my money to you--and I can spare it out of my income, indeed I can," cried out William's weak brother-in-law.
The Colonel besought Jos to fly at once--to go back to India, whither Mrs. Crawley could not follow him; to do anything to break off a connection which might have the most fatal consequences to him.
Jos clasped his hands and cried, "He would go back to India. He would do anything, only he must have time: they mustn't say anything to Mrs. Crawley--she'd--she'd kill me if she knew it. You don't know what a terrible woman she is," the poor wretch said.
"Then, why not come away with me?" said Dobbin in reply; but Jos had not the courage. "He would see Dobbin again in the morning; he must on no account say that he had been there. He must go now. Becky might come in." And Dobbin quitted him, full of forebodings.
He never saw Jos more. Three months afterwards Joseph Sedley died at Aix-la-Chapelle. It was found that all his property had been muddled away in speculations, and was represented by valueless shares in different bubble companies. All his available assets were the two thousand pounds for which his life was insured, and which were left equally between his beloved "sister Amelia, wife of, &c., and his friend and invaluable attendant during sickness, Rebecca, wife of Lieutenant-Colonel Rawdon Crawley, C.B.," who was appointed administratrix.
The solicitor of the insurance company swore it was the blackest case that ever had come before him, talked of sending a commission to Aix to examine into the death, and the Company refused payment of the policy. But Mrs., or Lady Crawley, as she styled herself, came to town at once (attended with her solicitors, Messrs. Burke, Thurtell, and Hayes, of Thavies Inn) and dared the Company to refuse the payment. They invited examination, they declared that she was the object of an infamous conspiracy, which had been pursuing her all through life, and triumphed finally. The money was paid, and her character established, but Colonel Dobbin sent back his share of the legacy to the insurance office and rigidly declined to hold any communication with Rebecca.
She never was Lady Crawley, though she continued so to call herself. His Excellency Colonel Rawdon Crawley died of yellow fever at Coventry Island, most deeply beloved and deplored, and six weeks before the demise of his brother, Sir Pitt. The estate consequently devolved upon the present Sir Rawdon Crawley, Bart.
He, too, has declined to see his mother, to whom he makes a liberal allowance, and who, besides, appears to be very wealthy. The Baronet lives entirely at Queen's Crawley, with Lady Jane and her daughter, whilst Rebecca, Lady Crawley, chiefly hangs about Bath and Cheltenham, where a very strong party of excellent people consider her to be a most injured woman. She has her enemies. Who has not? Her life is her answer to them. She busies herself in works of piety. She goes to church, and never without a footman. Her name is in all the Charity Lists. The destitute orange-girl, the neglected washerwoman, the distressed muffin-man find in her a fast and generous friend. She is always having stalls at Fancy Fairs for the benefit of these hapless beings. Emmy, her children, and the Colonel, coming to London some time back, found themselves suddenly before her at one of these fairs. She cast down her eyes demurely and smiled as they started away from her; Emmy scurrying off on the arm of George (now grown a dashing young gentleman) and the Colonel seizing up his little Janey, of whom he is fonder than of anything in the world--fonder even than of his History of the Punjaub.
"Fonder than he is of me," Emmy thinks with a sigh But he never said a word to Amelia that was not kind and gentle, or thought of a want of hers that he did not try to gratify.
Ah! Vanitas Vanitatum! which of us is happy in this world? Which of us has his desire? or, having it, is satisfied?--come, children, let us shut up the box and the puppets, for our play is played out.
第六十七章    有人出生,有人结婚,有人去世
    蓓基本来有心帮助都宾,使有情人能够遂心如意,可是究竟用什么计策,她却没有说出来.反正她对于别人的幸福都不如对于自己的前途那么关心.眼前有许多需要考虑的切身问题,比都宾少佐一生的快乐重要很多.
    她忽然来到舒服的环境里,连自己也觉得突兀.现在她身边有的是朋友,对她非常体贴.四周围这种仁厚老实的好人,她已经好些时候没有接触过了.她对流浪生活很习惯,一则因为天性好动,二则也是出于不得已.话虽这么说,她有时候也很希望能够休息一下.哪怕是最不怕艰苦的阿拉伯人,惯会骑在骆驼背上在沙漠里奔驰,有时也爱在水草旁边枣树底下歇脚,或是进城逛逛市场,在澡堂里洗洗澡提提神,到教堂里做做祷告,然后再出外去干抢家劫舍的营生.同样的,蓓基一向被放逐在外面,现在住到乔斯的篷帐里面吃他的比劳(印度的一种肉饭.),觉得真是高兴.她拴好了马,放下兵器,怪受用的在他火旁边取暖.经过了漂泊不定的生涯,一旦安定下来,真有说不出的恬静愉快.
    她自己觉得满意,便努力巴结这家子所有的人.讲到讨好别人这项本事,我们都知道她出人头地的能干.她和乔斯在大象旅社阁楼上谈了一席话,便哄得他回心转意了好些.她住下不到一星期,那印度官儿已经成了她忠心的奴才,发狂似的爱她.爱米丽亚比不上蓓基有趣,乔斯和她在一起的时候,吃过饭之后照规矩总得打个盹儿.利蓓加一来,他宁可不睡了,常常坐着敞车和她一同出去兜风,并且特地找些寻欢作乐的由头,为她请了好几次客.
    代理公使铁泼窝姆本来恶毒毒的说蓓基的坏话,自从到乔斯家里吃过一餐饭之后,天天来拜访她.可怜的爱米向来不大说话,都宾走后,更加怏怏不乐,寡言罕语,因此这位高她一等的仙子一到,大家简直把她忘了.法国公使对于蓓基倾倒的程度,竟也不比他的英国对手差什么.至于德国的太太们呢,本来没有什么谨严的道德观念,对于英国人尤其另眼相看,所以瞧着奥斯本太太可爱的朋友那么机智聪明,都非常喜欢.蓓基虽然没有要求进宫,可是大公爵和他夫人听说她妩媚动人,很想见见她.后来大家知道她出身高贵,属于英国的旧世家,她丈夫是禁卫军里的上校,又是某某岛的总督大人;他们夫妻因为小事情不和,所以分居.在英国,大家仍旧看《少年维持之烦恼》,歌德的《选择的亲和力》也被公认为对于身心有益的读物,在这样的国内,夫妻分居算不了什么,所以公国里最高尚的人士都愿意招待她.太太们从前对爱米丽亚十分亲热,发誓始终如一的爱她;现在她们见了蓓基,更密切了一层,更愿意给她这些无上的好处.这些单纯的德国人对于爱情和自由的看法是约克郡和索默塞脱郡的老实人所不懂的.在德国好些文明的城市里,居民的见解很通达,他们认为一个女人尽管离过好几次婚,可是在社会上的地位却一点不受影响.乔斯自从自立门户之后,家里的气氛从来没有像现在这么愉快.这全是利蓓加的功劳.她唱歌弹琴,有说有笑,会说两三国语言,把所有的人都引到家里来,并且使乔斯相信本地上流人士所以爱同他们往来,都是因为他善于应酬,口角俏皮的缘故.
    爱米现在在家里什么事都不能作主,只有付账的时候才去向她要钱.可是蓓基不久就想出法子来讨好她安慰她.她不断的和爱米讲到都宾给撵走的事情,毫不顾忌的称赞他是个人品高贵的君子,表示十分佩服他,而且责备爱米对他太不近人情.爱米为自己辩护,说她不过是遵照基督教的教义行事,又说一个女人应该从一而终,她既然侥幸嫁过像天神一般的好丈夫,无论如何不愿意再嫁了.话虽这么说,蓓基称赞少佐,她听了一些不生气,蓓基爱夸他多少回都没有关系.不但如此,她自己常常把话题转到都宾身上,一天不下二十来次.
    讨好乔杰和佣人们是不难的.上面已经说过,爱米丽亚的贴身女佣人全心全意赞赏慷慨大度的都宾少佐.起先她讨厌蓓基,怪她离间了少佐和女主人,可是后来看见她那么佩服少佐,为他辩护的时候口气那么热烈,气也平了.每逢请客以后,两位太太晚上在一处相聚,配恩小姐给她们刷头发(一位太太是淡黄头发,另外一位是软软的栗色头发)......配恩小姐一面刷,一面总为那位亲爱的好先生都宾少佐说几句好话.爱米丽亚听了并不着恼,就好像她听见利蓓加夸奖他不觉得生气一样.她催着乔治经常写信给他,而且总不忘记叫他在信后写上妈妈嘱笔问候等等字样.到晚上她望望丈夫的遗像,觉得它不再责备自己.现在威廉走掉之后,说不定她反而有些怨怪它的意思.
    爱米不顾一切的牺牲了自己之后,心上很不快活.她精神恍惚,不言不语,情绪非常不安,左也不是,右也不是的,家里人从来没有看见她脾气那么大.渐渐的她脸色青白,身上老是不快.她时常挑了几支歌儿自己弹唱,全是少佐以前喜欢听的......威勃所作的温馨的情歌《虽不是独自一个儿,我也寂寞》就是其中之一.小姐们啊,由此可见你们的前辈虽然老派,也知道怎么恋爱,怎么唱歌,那时候你们还没有出世呢.到傍晚,她在朦朦胧胧的客厅里唱歌,往往唱到一半,忽然停下来走到隔壁屋子里,想来总是瞧着丈夫的遗像找安慰去了.
    都宾走了之后,还留下几本书,里面写着他的名字.一本是德文字典,空白页上写了"第......联队威廉.都宾",一本是旅行指南,上面有他姓名的第一个字母,此外还有一两本别的书,都给爱米收起来搁在她卧房里的柜子上.这衣柜正在两个乔治的肖像底下,上面摆着她的针线盒子.小书台.《圣经》.圣书.少佐临走的时候忘了把手套带去,后来乔杰在他妈妈书台里找东西,发现这副手套给整整齐齐的叠好了藏在大家所说的"秘密抽屉"里.这也是事实.
    爱米不喜欢应酬,心绪又不好,夏天傍晚唯一的消遣就是和乔杰出去散步,一直走得老远,把利蓓加撇在家里陪着乔斯先生.娘儿两个老是谈起少佐,妈妈的口气叫那孩子忍不住微笑.她告诉乔杰说她觉得威廉少佐是全世界最好.最温和.最慈厚.最勇敢同时又是最谦虚的人.她反复告诉他,说他们现在的一切,都是这位好朋友的恩赐,他们穷愁交逼的时候,全靠他照应;别人不理睬他们的时候,也亏他帮助.她说少佐的同事没一个不佩服他,虽然他本人从来不提到自己的功绩;乔杰的父亲最相信他,他从小到大,都亏得好威廉看顾他.爱米说:"你爸爸小时候常常告诉我说他们学校里有个恶霸欺负他,幸而有威廉保护着才没有吃亏.从那天起,他们两个就做了好朋友,一直到你亲爱的爸爸打仗死去为止."
    乔杰说:"都宾有没有把害死爸爸的敌人杀掉呢?我想他准已经把他弄死了,反正如果他把那人拿住以后,决不饶他,是不是,妈妈?将来我进了军队,我跟那些法国人誓不两立!这是我的话."
    娘儿两个这样谈体己,一谈就是好些时候.心地单纯的女人把孩子当作心腹朋友.他呢,跟一切深知威廉的人一般,非常喜欢他.
    顺便再说一句.蓓基太太在待人多情多义这方面不甘后人,在卧房里也挂起一张肖像来.许多人看见了都觉得又纳闷又好笑.肖像上不是别人,正是我们的朋友乔斯.他见蓓基屋里挂了自己的肖像,心中大喜.这小女人最初住到赛特笠家里来的时候,只带了一只旧得不像样的小箱子,后来的大箱子和纸盒子也破烂不堪.大概她觉得很不好意思,便时常谈起她留在莱比锡的行李,仿佛这些东西非常贵重,总说要想法把它们运来才好.我的孩子,如果出门旅行的人身边没有行李,而不断的跟你谈起他的行李怎么讲究,千万小心在意.这个人十分之九是个骗子.
    乔斯和爱米都不懂得这重要的公理.蓓基的没现形的箱子里究竟是不是真有许多漂亮的衣服,他们并不放在心上.可是她眼前的衣着非常破旧,爱米只好把自己的供给她用,或是带她到本城最好的衣装店里去添置新衣服.我可以肯定的说一句,现在她不穿撕破领子的衣服了,也没有肩膀那里拖一块挂一块的褪色绸衫子了.环境一变,蓓基少不得把自己的习惯也改掉些.胭脂瓶暂时给藏了起来,另外一种习以为常的刺激也只能放弃,或者只能私底下享受一下,譬如像爱米娘儿俩夏天傍晚出去散步,有乔斯劝着,她才喝些搀水的白酒.她并不放量痛饮;他家的向导,那混蛋的基希,就不同了,老是尽着肚子灌,简直离不开酒瓶子,而且一开了头就闹不清自己喝过多少.有的时候他发觉乔斯先生的哥涅克酒消缴得那么快,连自己也觉得糊涂.好了,好了,这些话叫人怪不好意思的,反正蓓基自从进了上等人家之后,一定没有以前喝得那么多.
    形容得天花乱坠的箱子终久从莱比锡来了,一共有三只,既不华丽,也不怎么大,而且蓓基似乎并没有从箱子里拿出什么衣服首饰来用.一只箱子里装了许多纸张文件,......以前罗登.克劳莱发狠搜查蓓基的私房钱,抄的就是这一个箱子.她嬉皮笑脸的从这个箱子里拿出一张肖像钉在墙上,叫乔斯来看.这是一张铅笔画,画着一位先生,两腮帮子涂得红粉粉的非常好看.他骑在大象身上,远处有几棵椰子树和一座塔,正是东方的景色.
    乔斯叫道:"求老天保佑我的灵魂吧!这是我的画像!"这正是他的像,画得又年轻又俊美,上身穿着一件黄布衣服,还是一八○四年的款式.这幅肖像从前一向挂在勒塞尔广场老房子里.
    蓓基感动得声音发抖,说道:"是我把它买下来的.那时候我去看看到底有没有法子帮忙我的好朋友们.我一直把这幅画儿好好藏着......我以后也要把它好好藏着."
    乔斯脸上说不出的高兴得意,说:"真的?你真的为我才看重它吗?"
    蓓基道:"你明明知道我心里的确是这样.可是何必多说,何必多想,何必回顾往事呢?现在已经来不及了."
    那天晚上的谈话,乔斯听来真觉得滋味无穷.爱米回家的时候又疲倦又委顿,立刻上床睡觉,只剩乔斯跟他美貌的客人对坐谈心,彼此谈得很畅快.他妹妹在隔壁躺着睡不着,听得利蓓加把一八一五年流行的歌曲唱给乔斯听.当晚乔斯和爱米丽亚一样,也睡不着,真是希罕事儿.
    当下已到六月,正是伦敦最热闹的时候.乔斯每天把《加里涅尼》报上的新闻细细看一遍,早饭的时候挑几段读给太太们听.这份天下无双的报纸真是国外旅行者的好伴侣,上面每星期都登载着军队调动的详细消息.乔斯也算在军队里混过的,所以对于这种消息特别关心.有一回他念道:"第......联队士兵回国.格拉芙生特六月二十日电:英勇的第......联队士兵今晨乘东印度商船拉姆轻特号抵达此地,船上共计军官十四人,兵士一百三十二人.第......联队曾经参加滑铁卢大战,为国增光,一年后外调,在缅甸战役又大显身手,迄今已有十四年未曾回国.久经战阵的统领麦格尔.奥多爵士已在昨日登陆.同行的除奥多夫人和爵士的妹妹奥多小姐之外,有波斯基上尉.斯德卜尔上尉.马克洛上尉.玛洛内上尉.斯密士中尉.琼斯中尉.汤姆生中尉..托母森中尉.赫格思少尉.格拉弟少尉.勇士们上岸的时候,乐队奏出国歌,观者欢声雷动,一路送他们到伟德饭店进餐.伟德饭店为招待各位卫国英雄起见,特备上等筵席,酒菜十分丰盛.进餐时群众继续在外面热烈欢呼.奥多上校和奥多夫人特地出席到阳台上,举杯满饮伟德饭店最贵重的红酒祝群众'身体健康,."
    又有一次,乔斯读出一段简短的新闻,说是都宾少佐已经到达契顿姆,重新回到第......联队里原有的岗位上.后来他又读到下级骑士麦格尔.奥多爵士,奥多爵士夫人,以及葛萝薇娜.奥多小姐进宫觐见的情形.奥多夫人的引见人是葛兰曼洛内的玛洛哀.玛洛内太太,奥多小姐的就是奥多夫人.这项消息刊登出来不久,都宾的名字就在陆军少将的名单上出现.原来铁帕托夫老将军在第......联队从玛德拉斯回国的时候死在半路.军队回国以后,国王特将麦格尔.奥多上校升为陆军中将,并且下旨任命他为团长总指挥,正式统带向来在他属下的出众的士兵.
    关于这些事情,爱米丽亚已经听说过一点儿.乔治和他保护人之间信来信去,一直没有间断.威廉离开之后,甚至于还写过一两封信给爱米丽亚本人,可是口气老实不客气的冷淡,因此这一回轮到可怜的女人心里气馁,觉得已经失去了控制威廉的力量.正是他说的,他如今是自由身子了.威廉离开了她,又叫她心酸.她想到以前他一次又一次的替自己当差,不知帮了多少忙,而且对自己又尊重又体贴;这一切都涌到眼前,日日夜夜使她不得安宁.她依照向来的习惯,暗底下难过,想起从前把他的爱情不当一回事,现在才明白这种感情的纯洁和美丽.只怪自己不好,轻轻扔掉了这样的珍宝.
    威廉的爱情真的死了,消耗尽了.他心里觉得自己对她的爱情已经一去不返,而且以后也不可能重新爱她.多少年来他忠忠心心献给她的一片痴情给她扔在地下摔得粉碎,即使修补起来,裂痕总在,爱米丽亚太轻率,太霸道,生生的把它糟蹋了.威廉反复寻思道:"只怪我痴心妄想,一味自己哄自己.如果她值得我这么爱她,一定早已报答我的真情.这都是我心地糊涂,才会误到如今.人生一辈子,不就是一错再错的错下去吗?就算我赢得了她的爱情,看来也会立刻从迷梦中醒过来.何必灰心丧气,因为失败而觉得害臊呢?"他仔细咀嚼半生追求爱米丽亚的过程,越想得透,就越看得穿,明白自己受了骗.他说:"还是回去干我的老本行吧!天既然派我过那种生活,我就好好的尽我的本分.我的任务就是督促新来的弟兄们把制服上的钮扣擦亮,教导军曹们把账目记清.我以后在大饭堂吃饭,听那苏格兰医生讲故事.到我年老力衰的时候,就领个半俸告老,我的老妹妹们嘴碎,正好骂骂我.正像《华伦斯坦》(德国大诗人席勒(Ｓｃｈｉｌｌｅｒ,１７５９—１８０５)所著历史悲剧,１７９９年出版.)里的女孩子说的:'我曾经恋爱过,也领略过人生.,这会儿可觉得累了.兰西斯,把账付了,给我拿一支雪茄烟来.再看看今儿晚上有什么戏.明天咱们乘'巴达维埃,号过海."他一面在罗脱达姆的旅馆里踱来踱去,一面说了上面的一篇话,可是兰西斯听见的却只有最后的两句."巴达维埃"号邮船泊在船坞里,当初出国的时候,他和爱米同坐在那艘船的后甲板上,大家欢天喜地;现在他还看得见那块地方.他想:克劳莱的女人不知道究竟有什么话跟我说?管它!明天我们就动身过海,回英国,回家,回本行!
    一过六月,本浦聂格尔的贵族按照德国的风俗,分散到许多矿泉浴场去避暑.他们喝矿水,骑驴子,如果又有钱又有兴致,还可以上赌场赌钱.他们成群结队的去吃客饭,吃得狼吞虎咽.一夏天就这样闲闲散散的过去.英国外交官有的到托百利兹,有的上基新根.他们的法国对头也关了公使馆忙忙的住到他们最喜欢的特.刚大道去.大公爵一家到温泉避暑,或是住在猎屋里过夏.凡是有资格自称上流人物的,没一个留在本国.御医冯.格劳白先生和他的男爵夫人少不得也跟着大伙儿一起走.上温泉避暑的时候,医生的收入最多,可算是一面干正经,一面寻欢作乐.他经常避暑都到奥斯当.那边德国人多,医生和他太太又可以洗海澡.
    那怪有趣的病人乔斯现在成了他最靠得住的一头奶牛.医生对乔斯说,他自己身子不结实,他可怜的妹妹更是虚弱的厉害,两个人都应该休养.这样一说,就毫不费力的打动了乔斯,把他带着一同到那可厌的海口去过夏天.爱米无可无不可,不管到哪里都行.乔杰听得有机会旅行,高兴得直跳.蓓基当然也跟着一起走,在乔斯新买的大马车里占了第四个位子.两个佣人坐在马车外面的座位上.蓓基想到在奥斯当可能遇见的熟人,心里大概有些不安,害怕这些人会散播不好听的谣言.她想:管它呢!反正她有能耐,站得定脚跟.现在乔斯是拿得稳的,除非是疾风暴雨般的大变卦才拆得开他们俩.自从那幅画像挂出来之后,他就掉在她手掌心里了.蓓基把她的一幅大像拿下来藏在许多年以前爱米丽亚送给她的小箱子里.爱米也把两幅天神的真容收拾起来,一家人都来到奥斯当,租了一宅又贵又不舒服的房子住下来.
    爱米丽亚开始在温泉里洗澡,尽量利用温泉来恢复健康.她和蓓基一同进出.蓓基碰见的老相识不下几十个,大家不睬她,爱米丽亚反正不认得他们,根本不知道她选中的好伴侣受到怎样的怠慢.蓓基觉得不好把实情告诉给她听,让她蒙在鼓里.
    罗登.克劳莱太太有几个朋友倒是很愿意跟她来往,......说不定她本人却有些嫌他们.这些人里面有楼德少佐(目前不属于任何部队)和以前在火熗营任职的卢克上尉.他们两个差不多天天站在堤岸上,一面抽烟,一面光着眼看女人.不久他们踏进了乔瑟夫.赛特笠先生高尚的圈子里.赛特笠先生十分好客,他们便常在他家吃饭.事实上他们根本不容许主人拒客,不管蓓基在家不在家,自己冲到屋里,闯进奥斯本太太的客厅,衣服上和胡子上的香水味儿熏得满屋都是.他们管乔斯叫"老家伙",占住了他的饭桌子嘻嘻哈哈的喝酒,一坐就是好半天.
    乔杰不喜欢这些人.他问道:"他们说的话我不懂.昨天我听见少佐对克劳莱太太说:'蓓基,你把那老家伙一个人霸占了可不行啊.咱们把骰子拿进屋吧.要不,有什么咱们对半分.,妈妈,少佐的话究竟是什么意思呢?"
    爱米说:"少佐!他也配叫少佐!这些话我也不懂."她一看见他和他的朋友,心里说不出多少害怕和嫌恶.他们嘴里嘈着醉话奉承她,隔着饭桌子乜斜着眼睛色眯眯的看她.上尉向着她动手动脚,慌得她心里作恶.若是乔杰不在身旁,她从来不肯露脸.
    说句公平话,这两个人来他们家的时候,利蓓加从来不让爱米丽亚独自陪客.少佐也是单身,赌神罚誓说要把她弄到手.两个恶棍都馋涎这个不懂世事的女人,相争不下,在她自己的桌子上赌赛,把她作赌注.她虽然不知道两个坏蛋背地里怎么算计她,可是见了他们就害怕,战战兢兢的只想逃走.
    她苦苦央求乔斯赶快离开当地.可是他不肯.他行动迟慢,离不开医生,说不定还受另外一个人的牵制.反正蓓基并不着急要回英国.
    最后爱米狠下心不顾一切冒了一个大险.她写了一封信给海外的一个朋友.关于这件事她对家里的人一个字不提,把信藏在披肩下面走到邮局寄出去.乔杰去接她的时候看见她两腮通红,样子很激动.她吻了乔杰,那天晚上一直守着他.散步回家之后,她就留在卧房里没有出来.蓓基以为是楼德少佐和那上尉把她吓着了.
    蓓基自己肚里思忖道:"她不应该留在这儿.这小糊涂虫!她非得离开这儿不可.他那个没脑子的丈夫,死了十五年了,(死了也是活该!)她还在哼哼唧唧的舍不得他.这两个男人是不能嫁的.楼德太坏了.不行,还是叫她嫁给那竹子拐棍儿吧.今天晚上我就得把这件事办好."
    蓓基端了一杯茶到爱米丽亚的房里,看见她愁眉苦脸的瞧着两幅画像,仿佛是坐立不安的样子.她放下茶杯.
    爱米丽亚说:"谢谢你."
    蓓基在爱米面前来回踱步,一半轻蔑一半怜惜的瞧着她说道:"爱米丽亚,听我说,我想跟你谈谈.你得离开这儿才好.这些人太混帐,你不能跟他们在一起.我不愿意看见他们折磨你.如果你再不走的话,他们就该侮辱你了.告诉你吧,他们都是流氓,应该进监牢的.至于我怎么认得他们的话,你不必管.我是什么人都认识的.乔斯不能保护你.他太无能,自己都需要别人来保护.你跟手里抱着的奶娃娃一样,哪儿配在外面混!你还是赶快结婚吧,要不然你和你那宝贝儿子准遭殃.傻瓜,你非有个丈夫不行.有一位百里挑一的君子人已经再三向你求婚,而你却回绝了他.你这糊涂.没心肝.没天良的小东西!"
    爱米丽亚为自己辩护道:"我......我也很想答应他.这是真话,利蓓加.可是我忘不了......"她抬头看看画像,代替了说话.
    蓓基嚷道:"忘不了他!他是个自私自利的骗子,土头土脑下流没教养的纨子弟,是个草包,是个蠢东西,又没有脑子,又没有心肝,又不懂规矩!他压根儿不配和你那拿竹子拐棍儿的朋友相提并论,等于你不配跟伊丽莎白女王相提并论一样.什么呀,他对你早就腻味了.要不是都宾逼着他履行婚约,他准会丢了你.这话是他自己对我说的.他向来没爱过你,几次三番在我面前拿你取笑.你们结婚以后一个星期,他就跟我谈情说爱."
    爱米丽亚霍的坐起来嚷道:"你胡说!你胡说!利蓓加."
    蓓基的好脾气叫人看着冒火.她从腰带底下掏出一张小纸,打开之后扔在爱米身上,说道:"你这傻瓜,瞧瞧这个吧.你认得出他的笔迹.这是他写给我的,要我跟他一起私奔.这还是他给打死的前一天当着你的面给我的呢.他死也是活该!"
    爱米没有听见她的话.她正在看那封信......原来就是里却蒙公爵夫人开跳舞会的那天晚上乔治藏在花球里递给蓓基的便条.蓓基说的不错,糊涂的小伙子果然约她私奔.
    爱米低下头哭起来......这恐怕是她在这本小说里面最后一次伤心落泪.她把头越垂越低,抬起手来遮着眼睛哭了一会儿,让郁结在心里的感情奔放发泄,蓓基站在旁边瞧着她.谁能够揣摩这些泪珠儿的含意呢?谁能够断定它们是苦是甜呢?她是不是因为崇拜了一辈子的偶像现在倒坍下来滚在脚边给摔得粉碎而伤心呢?还是因为丈夫小看她的痴情而气愤呢?还是因为世俗礼仪所竖起的障碍已经去除,可以得到一种新的.真正的感情而欣喜呢?她想:"现在我可以全心全意的爱他了.只要他肯原谅我,给我机会补过,我一定掏出心来爱他."我想在她温柔的心里,这种感情一定淹没了其他许多使它激动的感情.
    出于蓓基意料之外,她只哭了一会儿.蓓基吻着她,用好言好语安慰她.这样慈悲的行为,在蓓基是少有的.她把爱米当作小孩子,拍拍她的头,说道:"咱们现在拿出墨水和笔来,写信叫他立刻回来."
    爱米满脸通红,答道:"我......我今天早上已经写信给他了."蓓基听说,尖声大笑起来.她用萝茜娜(法国戏剧家博马舍(Ｂｅａｕｍａｒｃｈａｉｓ１７３２—９９)的《塞维勒的理发师》一剧中的女主角.剧本曾由意大利音乐家改编成歌剧.)的词句唱道:"这里有一封信!"屋子里上下都听得见她的刺耳的歌声.
    这件事情过去两天之后,爱米丽亚一早起来.外面路上风风雨雨,她一夜没有好睡,耳朵听着大风怒号,心里想着在陆上水上的行人该多么可怜.话虽如此说,她仍旧再三要和乔杰一起散步到堤岸上去.她在那儿来回的踱着,让雨水淋在脸上,眼光越过汹涌奔腾.向岸上冲击得浪花四溅的波涛,向西望着黑沉沉的水平线.两个人都不大开口,孩子偶然对他怯生生的同伴说几句话,表示对她同情,给她保护.
    爱米说:"我希望他不要挑这样坏的天气过海."
    孩子答道:"我跟你打赌,十分之九他会来的.妈妈,你看,那是汽船的黑烟."这个信号果真出现了.
    虽然汽船向这边行驶,他也许不在船上呢?说不定他没有收到信,说不定他不高兴回来呢?爱米的心里有千百样的恐惧在七上八下,翻翻滚滚的像正在向堤岸奔腾的波浪.
    跟着黑烟,船身也出现了.乔杰有一架很花哨的望远镜,他拿起来很熟练的从望远镜里找着了汽船.他看见那船越驶越近,在浪里一起一伏的颠簸,很内行的批评了几句.码头上扯起旗子,报告有一艘英国汽船将要靠岸.那小旗子上升的时候簌簌的抖......我想爱米的一颗心也跟它一样簌簌的抖.
    爱米想法在乔杰后面从望远镜里张望,可是什么也看不清,只看见一块黑影在眼前一起一伏.
    乔杰把望远镜拿回去细细的向汽船看着.他说:"瞧它颠簸的多厉害!我看见一个浪头砰的打在船头上.甲板上除了舵手之外只有两个别的人.一个人躺在那儿.还有一个人......穿了一件大衣......还有......好哇!他正是都宾!"他收起望远镜,一把搂着母亲的脖子.至于那位太太呢,我们只能借用大家爱好的那位诗人的话来说:她"喜欢得落泪"了.(荷马史诗《伊利亚特》第四卷海克多(Ｈｅｃｔｏｒ)和安特罗马克(Ａｎｄｒｏｍａｃｈｅ)分别的一幕.她心里知道船上的人准是威廉.难道还能是别的人不成?她刚才说什么希望他不要来的话全是装腔.他当然会来.除了赶回来之外他还有什么别的路走?她知道他会回来的.
    汽船驶得很快,越来越近.他们到码头上船只靠岸的地方去迎接它的时候,爱米的两条腿软绵绵的跑也跑不动.她恨不得就地跪下来感谢上天.她想:"啊,今后得一辈子感谢天恩才对!"天气那么坏,船靠岸的时候周围一个看热闹的闲人都没有,连等着照看船上那几个旅客的管理员也不见.乔杰那不长进的小子也溜掉了.穿红里子旧大衣的先生上岸的时候,旁边没一个人看见当时发生的事情.大致的情形是这样的......
    一位戴白帽子围白披肩的太太,身上滴滴答答的淌着雨水,张开两臂,一直向他走去.一眨眼的功夫,她就给卷在他的大衣褶裥里面,用尽力气吻他的手.他另外一只手大概一面要扶着她防她跌倒,一面又要紧紧搂着她.她的头只到他胸口.她嘴里喃喃呐呐,说什么原谅......亲爱的威廉......亲爱的,最亲爱的,最最亲爱的朋友......吻我,吻我,吻我......这等等的话.大衣底下的情形真是荒谬得不成话.
    爱米从大衣底下走出来的时候,一手还紧紧攥着威廉的手,一面抬起头看着他.他脸上有深情,怜悯,也有伤感的成分.她懂得他的责备,把头低了.
    他说:"亲爱的爱米丽亚,你早该来叫我回来了."
    "你从此不走了吗,威廉?"
    "从此不走了,"说着,他重新把亲爱的小人儿搂在胸口.
    他们走出海关的时候,乔杰向他们冲过来,一面从望远镜里看着他们,一面大笑着表示欢迎.他在他们两人旁边手舞足蹈,做出种种滑稽顽皮的把戏,一路把他们引到家里.乔斯还没有起身,蓓基也不露脸,只在百叶窗后面看着他们.乔杰跑去吩咐厨房里预备早饭.爱米自己的帽子和披肩已经给配恩小姐拿到过道里去,现在上前来帮忙解开威廉大衣上的搭扣......如果你不反对,咱们还是跟着乔杰去给上校预备早饭吧.船已经泊岸.想望了一辈子的宝贝已经到手.小鸟儿终究飞进来了.它的头枕着他的肩膀,张开颤抖的翅膀,依依地偎在他的胸口.这是他十八年来日夜盼望的,苦苦思慕的酬报;现在已经得到了.这就是顶峰,就是终点,就是最后的一页.再见了,上校.愿天保佑你,忠厚的威廉!再见了,亲爱的爱米丽亚!你这柔弱的寄生藤啊,愿你绕着粗壮坚实的老橡树重新抽出绿叶子来!
    利蓓加呢,也许是有些内疚,觉得自己对不起心地忠厚.头脑简单的爱米,她有生以来第一个恩人,也许是嫌这些多情的场面太肉麻,总之,她认为在这次纠葛里已经尽了本分,从此没有去见都宾上校和他太太.她动身到白吕吉恩去,说是有要紧事情得办理.婚礼举行的时候,只有乔杰和他舅舅在场.这以后,乔杰和父母在一起团聚,蓓基太太重新回来安慰那寂寞的单身汉子,乔瑟夫.赛特笠.她说她过几天就要走的.乔斯表示宁可在欧洲住下去,不愿意和妹夫妹妹并家.
    爱米想起自己总算在看见乔治那封信以前已经写信她丈夫,心上很安慰.威廉说:"我老早知道这件事.可是我怎么能够利用这样的手段,叫那可怜家伙身后的名誉受累呢?也就是为这个原因,我听了你的话心里真是难受......"
    爱米嚷道:"再别提那天的话儿了!"她的样子那么谦虚,那么懊丧,威廉便把话锋转到葛萝薇娜和佩琪.奥多那亲爱的老太太身上去.爱米信到的一天,他正和这两个女人坐在一起.他笑道:"如果你不来叫我的话,谁也断不定葛萝薇娜将来姓什么."
    现在她的姓名是葛萝薇娜.波斯基,也就是波斯基少佐太太.她打定主意,只嫁部队里的军官;波斯基的第一个妻子一死,她就嫁了他.奥多太太对于部队的感情也很深厚.她说如果密克有个三长两短,她准会回来在其余的军官里面挑一个丈夫.可是中将身体健得很.他住在奥多镇,养着一群猎狗,排场很阔.除掉他的邻居霍加抵堡的霍加抵之外,区里没人比得上他的地位.奥多夫人仍旧跳急步舞,副省长上次开跳舞会的时候,她还再三要和管马大臣比赛谁的气长.她和葛萝薇娜都说都宾对待葛萝薇娜太不应该.幸而有波斯基凑上来,葛萝薇娜才有了安慰.奥多太太收到一块从巴黎寄去的美丽的包头布,气也平了.
    都宾上校结婚以后立刻退休,此后在汉泊郡离开女王的克劳莱不远的地方租了一宅漂亮的房子住下来.自从改革议案通过之后,毕脱爵士一家一直住在乡下过日子.从男爵在国会的两个议员席都已经失去,加爵是没有希望的了.经过这次灾难,他手头拮据,总是无精打彩的,身体也不好,时常预言英帝国不久便会垮台.
    吉恩夫人和都宾太太成了极好的朋友.克劳莱大厦和上校的常绿庐之间(这房子是向他的朋友邦笃少佐租来的,目前邦笃和他一家都在外国)......克劳莱大厦和常绿庐之间马车来,马车去,来往得很频繁.吉恩夫人是都宾太太女儿的教母,小女孩儿就用了她的名字.执行洗礼的就是詹姆士.克劳莱牧师,自从他爹死后,由他接手做了本区的牧师.乔治和罗登这两个小后生交情很深,两个人在假期里一块儿打猎骑射,后来读大学,也是进的剑桥同一个学校.他们当然都爱上了吉恩夫人的女儿,两人争风吃醋.两个太太心坎儿上老早有个打算,要把小姐和乔治结为夫妇,不过我听说克劳莱小姐本人倒是对于堂哥哥更有意.
    两家都不提起克劳莱太太的名字.他们对她的事缄口不言是有原因的.因为不论乔斯.赛特笠到哪里,她总跟着走.那着了迷的乔斯彻头彻尾成了她的奴隶.上校的律师告诉他说他大舅子保了一大笔人寿险,看来他正在筹款子还债.他向东印度公司请了长假,身体一天比一天虚弱.
    爱米丽亚听见他保寿险的消息,十分放心不下,求她丈夫到布鲁塞尔去看看乔斯,查个明白.上校离家出国的时候很不愿意,一则他正在聚精会神的写《旁遮普历史》(旁遮普是印度的一省.)(到目前为止还没有写完),二则他心爱的小女儿出水痘刚痊愈,他还是不大放心.他到了布鲁塞尔,发现乔斯住在本城的一家大旅馆里.克劳莱太太住的就是同一旅馆的另外一套房间.她有自备马车,也常常请客,过活得很有气派.
    上校自然不想碰见这位太太.他甚至于没有让别人知道他已经到达布鲁塞尔,只叫佣人悄悄的送了个信给乔斯.乔斯央告上校当夜就去看他.那天晚上克劳莱太太出门作客,他们两个可以私下见见.上校发现大舅子虚弱得可怜,而且他虽然没口的称赞利蓓加,可是对于她真是战战兢兢.据说他害了一大串的病,全亏她看护.这些病名儿是以前没人听见过的,她对朋友的忠诚也是令人敬佩的.她伺候乔斯简直像女儿伺候父亲.那倒楣的家伙哼哼着说道:"可是......可是......唉,看老天面上,搬到这儿来住在我近旁吧.有的......有的时候你们可以来瞧瞧我."
    上校听了这话,皱眉说道:"那不行的,乔斯.在这样的情形之下,爱米丽亚不能来看你."
    "我向你起誓,我拿《圣经》起誓,"乔瑟夫一面气喘吁吁的说话,一面准备吻圣书,"她跟孩子一样纯洁,跟你的太太一样清白."
    上校没精打彩的答道:"也许你说的不错,可是爱米不能来.乔斯,做个男子汉大丈夫,把这个不名誉的关系斩断了吧!你回家来住得了.我们听说你的经济情况很糟."
    乔斯嚷道:"很糟!谁在造谣伤人?我所有的钱都好好儿的存在外面,利息大着呢!克劳莱太太......我的意思是......我是说......我的钱处置得非常好."
    "你没有借债吗?那么干什么保寿险呢?"
    "我本来想......送她一份小小的礼......说不定我有个三长两短.你知道我身子很弱......一个人总得拿出良心待人.我的钱准备都留给你们......钱我可以省得出来,真的省得出来,"威廉的意志薄弱的大舅子叫叫嚷嚷的这么说了一篇话.
    上校求他赶快逃走,如果乔斯回到印度,克劳莱太太决不能跟着去.他说把这样的关系维持下去,可能造成最严重的后果,所以无论如何先得和她脱离.
    乔斯这可怜虫把两只手紧紧捏在一起叫道:"我就到印度去.随便要我怎么都行.可是得慢慢儿来啊.咱们决不能把这话告诉克劳莱太太.她......她知道了准会把我杀死.你不知道她多可怕!"
    都宾答道:"那么干吗不跟着我回家呢?"可是乔斯鼓不起这勇气.他说他第二天早上再跟都宾见面;都宾可不准说他隔夜已经来过了的.他又催都宾快走,因为蓓基也许就要回来.都宾回去的时候,觉得这件事凶多吉少.
    他从此没有看见乔斯.三个月之后,乔瑟夫.赛特笠在埃克斯.拉.夏北尔地方去世.大家发现他所有的财产都在各种投机事业里闹掉了,剩下的只有几家滑头公司发行的股票,全无价值.二千镑寿险是唯一能兑现的遗产.这笔钱一半给他妹妹爱米丽亚,一半给"他的朋友利蓓加,下级骑士罗登.克劳莱少将之妻,因为他病中多承她照顾,给他的帮助难以估计".同时,利蓓加又是遗嘱的执行人.
    保险公司的律师赌神罚誓,说他一辈子没有见过这样不明不白的案件,应该派专员前来调查死亡的原因;保险公司也拒绝付款.克劳莱太太(她自称克劳莱爵士夫人)立刻带着泰维斯法学院的白克.德脱尔.海斯几位律师赶到伦敦来办交涉.保险公司敢不付钱吗?律师们欢迎公司方面调查真相,他们声称有人阴谋陷害克劳莱太太,已经不是一朝一夕的事了.结果她大获全胜,银钱到手,又保全了好名声.都宾上校把他的一份钱退还保险公司,并且斩钉截铁的拒绝和利蓓加通信或来往.
    虽然她继续自称克劳莱爵士夫人,其实她是没有这种资格的.他大人罗登.克劳莱上校在考文脱莱岛害黄热病去世,比他哥哥毕脱爵士早死一个半月.群众对于他非常爱戴,听了他的死讯万分哀痛.克劳莱的庄地由现在的从男爵罗登.克劳莱爵士承继.
    他也拒绝和他母亲见面,不过给她一份丰厚的生活费.除了这笔钱,他母亲似乎还有许多别的财源.从男爵一年到头住在女王的克劳莱,和吉恩夫人和她女儿在一起.利蓓加呢(她也是爵士夫人),大都的时候在温泉和契尔顿纳姆两边住住.在这两个地方有许多极好的人都帮她说话,认为她一辈子受尽了冤屈.她也有冤家.这也是免不了的.对于这等人,她目前的生活方式就是一个回答.她热心宗教事业,经常上教堂,背后总有听差跟着.在所有大善士的名单上,总少不了她的名字.对于穷苦的卖橘子女孩儿,没人照顾的洗衣服女人,潦倒的煎饼贩子,她是一个靠得住的.慷慨的施主.为这些可怜人开的义卖会上,她总有份,每回守着摊子帮忙.不久以前爱米和她的儿女,还有上校,一起到伦敦来,在一个义卖会上出其不意的和她打了个照面.他们慌慌张张的跑了,她只低下眼睛稳重地笑了一笑.爱米勾着乔治的胳膊仓皇逃走(乔治现在已经长成了一个漂亮潇洒的小伙子);上校抱起小吉内跟着.他看着吉内比世界上一切的东西都重......甚至于比他的《旁遮普历史》还重.
    爱米叹口气想到:"也比我重."可是他对爱米丽亚总是温柔体贴,千依百顺.
    唉,浮名浮利,一切虚空!我们这些人里面谁是真正快活的?谁是称心如意的?就算当时遂了心愿,过后还不是照样不满意?来吧,孩子们,收拾起戏台,藏起木偶人,咱们的戏已经演完了

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[Novel] 名利场 —— Vanity Fair中英文对照【完结】