永别了，武器——A Farewell to Arms中英对照 完结_派派后花园

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[Novel] 永别了，武器——A Farewell to Arms中英对照 完结

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举报 只看该作者 20楼  发表于: 2013-10-26 0
BOOK TWO CHAPTER 20
One day in the afternoon we went to the races. Ferguson went too and Crowell Rodgers, the boy who had been wounded in the eyes by the explosion of the shell nose-cap. The girls dressed to go after lunch while Crowell and I sat on the bed in his room and read the past performances of the horses and the predictions in the racing paper. Crowell's head was bandaged and he did not care much about these races but read the racing paper constantly and kept track of all the horses for something to do. He said the horses were a terrible lot but they were all the horses we had. Old Meyers liked him and gave him tips. Meyers won on nearly every race but disliked to give tips because it brought down the prices. The racing was very crooked. Men who had been ruled off the turf everywhere else were racing in Italy. Meyers' information was good but I hated to ask him because sometimes he did not answer, and always you could see it hurt him to tell you, but he felt obligated to tell us for some reason and he hated less to tell Crowell. Crowell's eyes had been hurt, one was hurt badly, and Meyers had trouble with his eyes and so he liked Crowell. Meyers never told his wife what horses he was playing and she won or lost, mostly lost, and talked all the time.
We four drove out to San Siro in an open carriage. It was a lovely day and we drove out through the park and out along the tramway and out of town where the road was dusty. There were villas with iron fences and big overgrown gardens and ditches with water flowing and green vegetable gardens with dust on the leaves. We could look across the plain and see farmhouses and the rich green farms with their irrigation ditches and the mountains to the north. There were many carriages going into the race track and the men at the gate let us in without cards because we were in uniform. We left the carriage, bought programmes, and walked across the infield and then across the smooth thick turf of the course to the paddock. The grand-stands were old and made of wood and the betting booths were under the stands and in a row out near the stables. There was a crowd of soldiers along the fence in the infield. The paddock was fairly well filled with people and they were walking the horses around in a ring under the trees behind the grandstand. We saw people we knew and got chairs for Ferguson and Catherine and watched the horses.
They went around, one after the other, their heads down, the grooms leading them. One horse, a purplish black, Crowell swore was dyed that color. We watched him and it seemed possible. He had only come out just before the bell rang to saddle. We looked him up in the programme from the number on the groom's arm and it was listed a black gelding named Japalac. The race was for horses that had never won a race worth one thousand lire or more. Catherine was sure his color had been changed. Ferguson said she could not tell. I thought he looked suspicious. We all agreed we ought to back him and pooled one hundred lire. The odds sheets showed he would pay thirty-five to one. Crowell went over and bought the tickets while we watched the jockeys ride around once more and then go out under the trees to the track and gallop slowly up to the turn where the start was to be.
We went up in the grand-stand to watch the race. They had no elastic barrier at San Siro then and the starter lined up all the horses, they looked very small way up the track, and then sent them off with a crack of his long whip. They came past us with the black horse well in front and on the turn he was running away from the others. I watched them on the far side with the glasses and saw the jockey fighting to hold him in but he could not hold him and when they came around the turn and into the stretch the black horse was fifteen lengths ahead of the others. He went way on up and around the turn after the finish.
"Isn't it wonderful," Catherine said. "We'll have over three thousand lire. He must be a splendid horse."
"I hope his color doesn't run," Crowell said, "before they pay off."
"He was really a lovely horse," Catherine said. "I wonder if Mr. Meyers backed him."
"Did you have the winner?" I called to Meyers. He nodded.
"I didn't," Mrs. Meyers said. "Who did you children bet on?"
"Japalac."
"Really? He's thirty-five to one!"
"We liked his color."
"I didn't. I thought he looked seedy. They told me not to back him."
"He won't pay much," Meyers said.
"He's marked thirty-five to one in the quotes," I said.
"He won't pay much. At the last minute," Meyers said, "they put a lot of money on him."
"No."
"Kempton and the boys. You'll see. He won't pay two to one."
"Then we won't get three thousand lire," Catherine said. "I don't like this crooked racing!"
"We'll get two hundred lire."
"That's nothing. That doesn't do us any good. I thought we were going to get three thousand."
"It's crooked and disgusting," Ferguson said.
"Of course," said Catherine, "if it hadn't been crooked we'd never have backed him at all. But I would have liked the three thousand lire."
"Let's go down and get a drink and see what they pay," Crowell said. We went out to where they posted the numbers and the bell rang to pay off and they put up 18.50 after Japalac to win. That meant he paid less than even money on a ten-lira bet.
We went to the bar under the grand-stand and had a whiskey and soda apiece. We ran into a couple of Italians we knew and McAdams, the vice-consul, and they came up with us when we joined the girls. The Italians were full of manners and McAdams talked to Catherine while we went down to bet again. Mr. Meyers was standing near the pari-mutuel.
"Ask him what he played," I said to Crowell.
"What are you on, Mr. Meyers?" Crowell asked. Meyers took out his programme and pointed to the number five with his pencil.
"Do you mind if we play him too?" Crowell asked.
"Go ahead. Go ahead. But don't tell my wife I gave it to you."
"Will you have a drink?" I asked.
"No thanks. I never drink."
We put a hundred lire on number five to win and a hundred to place and then had another whiskey and soda apiece. I was feeling very good and we picked up a couple more Italians, who each had a drink with us, and went back to the girls. These Italians were also very mannered and matched manners with the two we had collected before. In a little while no one could sit down. I gave the tickets to Catherine.
"What horse is it?"
"I don't know. Mr. Meyers' choice."
"Don't you even know the name?"
"No. You can find it on the programme. Number five I think."
"You have touching faith," she said. The number five won but did not pay anything. Mr. Meyers was angry.
"You have to put up two hundred lire to make twenty," he said. "Twelve lire for ten. It's not worth it. My wife lost twenty lire."
"I'll go down with you," Catherine said to me. The Italians all stood up. We went downstairs and out to the paddock.
"Do you like this?" Catherine asked.
"Yes. I guess I do."
"It's all right, I suppose," she said. "But, darling, I can't stand to see so many people."
"We don't see many."
"No. But those Meyers and the man from the bank with his wife and daughters--"
"He cashes my sight drafts," I said.
"Yes but some one else would if he didn't. Those last four boys were awful."
"We can stay out here and watch the race from the fence."
"That will be lovely. And, darling, let's back a horse we've never heard of and that Mr. Meyers won't be backing."
"All right."
We backed a horse named Light For Me that finished fourth in a field of five. We leaned on the fence and watched the horses go by, their hoofs thudding as they went past, and saw the mountains off in the distance and Milan beyond the trees and the fields.
"I feel so much cleaner," Catherine said. The horses were coming back, through the gate, wet and sweating, the jockeys quieting them and riding up to dismount under the trees.
"Wouldn't you like a drink? We could have one out here and see the horses."
"I'll get them," I said.
"The boy will bring them," Catherine said. She put her hand up and the boy came out from the pagoda bar beside the stables. We sat down at a round iron table.
"Don't you like it better when we're alone?"
"Yes," I said.
"I felt very lonely when they were all there."
"It's grand here," I said.
"Yes. It's really a pretty course."
"It's nice."
"Don't let me spoil your fun, darling. I'll go back whenever you want."
"No," I said. "We'll stay here and have our drink. Then we'll go down and stand at the water jump for the steeplechase."
"You're awfully good to me," she said.
After we had been alone awhile we were glad to see the others again. We had a good time.

第二部 第二十章
有一天下午，我们到跑马场去。弗格逊也去，还有克罗威·罗吉斯，就是那个给炮弹雷管炸伤眼睛的青年。中饭后，姑娘们去打扮换衣服，克罗威和我则坐在他病房的床沿上，翻阅赛马报纸，研究各匹马过去的成绩和今天的预测。克罗威的头还扎着绷带，他本不关心赛马，只是因为闲来无事，才经常阅读赛马报纸，注意每匹马的进展变化。他说今天的马都不好，但是我们只有这些马可赌赛。老迈耶斯喜欢他，常常透露给他一些内部消息。迈耶斯每次看赛马，几乎每赌必胜，不过他不愿意把内部消息告诉人家，因为买那匹马票子的人一多，彩金就往下跌了。这里的赛马非常。各国因跑马犯规而被赛马场开除的骑师，在意大利仍旧在当。迈耶斯的情报相当好，但是我不喜欢请教他，因为有时候你问他，他常常不回答，你看得出他告诉你时，总显得很为难，但是因为某种原因，他总觉得有义务告诉我们一些，特别是克罗威，他对他透露消息比较不太难过。克罗威的两只眼睛都受了伤，有一只是重伤，而迈耶斯自己眼睛也有毛病，所以他喜欢克罗威。迈耶斯赌什么马，从来不告诉他妻子。他妻子有时赢有时输，大多是输，话可唠唠叨叨个没完。
我们四人赶一部敞篷马车到圣西罗去。那天天气很好，我们赶着马车穿过公园，沿着电车轨道出城，一到城外，路上全是尘土。城外有些别墅，围着铁栅，有花草蔓生的大花园、有流着水的沟渠和青翠的菜园，菜叶上积有尘土。我们越过平原，望得见农民的屋子、丰腴青翠的田地和农场的水沟，还有北边的高山峻岭。往跑马场赶的马车很多，守大门的人让我们进去，并不查验入场证，因为我们身穿军装。我们下了马车，买了节目表，穿过内场，跨过那铺得又平又厚的跑马道，来到停马的围场。大看台已经陈旧了，是用木头搭成的，卖马票处就设在看台底下，在马房边排成一长列。有一群士兵靠着内场的围栏边。围场上的人也相当多，在大看台后边的树木底下，有人拉着马绕着圈子走，让马活动活动。我们见到一些熟人，弄到两把椅子给弗格逊和凯瑟琳坐，观察那些马。
马由马夫牵着走，一匹跟着一匹，马头垂下。有一匹紫黑色的马，克罗威发誓说那是染出来的颜色。我们仔细看了一下，觉得颜色可能是染上去的。这匹马在上鞍铃摇了以后，才给拉出来。我们看那马夫胳臂上的号数，对照节目表才知道这匹马叫做贾巴拉克，是一匹阉过的黑马。这一次竞赛的马，都是没有赢过一千里拉或更多的。凯瑟琳也说那匹马的颜色是假的。弗格逊说她没有把握。我则以为那马有点可疑。我们都同意购买这匹马的票子，一共凑了一百里拉。根据赌注打赌表，这匹马倘若跑赢的话，每里拉要付三十五里拉。克罗威走过去买马票，我们则看着骑师骑着马又绕了一个圈子，然后从树木底下走上跑道，慢慢地跑往起点。我们走上大看台去看赛马。圣西罗当年还没装上弹性起跑栅，那个主持起跑者先叫马排成一横行——在远远的跑道上这些马看起来很小——然后把长鞭啪的一挥，命令各匹马起跑。马跑过我们跟前时，那匹黑马竟然一马当先，到了转弯的地方，它撇下了其余的马，跑到远远的前方去了。我用望远镜往远处望去，看见黑马的骑师正在死命拉住它，但是马控制不住，等到拐弯转入最后决胜的那段跑道时，它抛下其余的马，有十五匹马马身长度的距离。黑马到了终点后还转了一个弯才停下来。“这太好了，”凯瑟琳说。“我们赢了三千多里拉啦。一定是匹好马。”“我只盼望他们付钱以前，马的颜色可别掉了，”克罗威说。“真是一匹可爱的马，”凯瑟琳说。“不晓得迈耶斯先生买了它的票没有。”“你买了那匹赢的马没有？”我大声问迈耶斯。他点点头。“我倒没有，”
迈耶斯太太说。“孩子们，你们押的是哪匹马？”“贾巴拉克。”
“真的？赌注是三十五对一啊！”
“我们喜欢它的颜色。”
“我不喜欢。我看它样子不大对头。人家叫我不要押它。”“它不会付多少钱的，”迈耶斯说。
“牌价上明明写着三十五对一啊，”我说。
“不会付多少钱的。快起赛的时候，”迈耶斯说，“有人押下了一大笔款子。”
“谁？”
“肯普顿和他那一帮人。你等着瞧吧。这匹马付不到二对一。”“那么我们得不到三千里拉了，”凯瑟琳说。“我可不喜欢这种作弊的赛马。”
“我们可以得到二百里拉。”
“那算不了什么。那对我们有什么好处？我还以为我们快要得到三千里拉哩。”
“这样，惹人厌恶，”弗格逊说。
“自然咯，”凯瑟琳说，“我们可不就是因为它形迹可疑才押它的。不过，我倒真想得到三千里拉呢。”
“我们下去喝杯酒，看他们付多少钱，”克罗威说。我们到了人家张贴号码并摇铃付款的地方，在贾巴拉克名字后写着每十里拉可得十八个半里拉。这就是说，甚至不到二比一。
我们走进大看台下的酒吧间，每人喝了一杯威士忌苏打。我们碰到两个认识的意大利人和副领事麦克亚当斯，他们跟着我们上去找女士们。意大利人彬彬有礼，麦克亚当斯和凯瑟琳谈话，我们则又下去押马。迈耶斯正站在派彩处①附近。
“问他赌哪匹马，”我对克罗威说。
“你赌哪匹马，迈耶斯先生？”克罗威问。迈耶斯拿出节目表来，用铅笔指指第五号。
“我们也买它，行吗？”克罗威问。
“尽管买。尽管买。可别告诉我妻子是我告诉你们的。”
“喝杯酒吧？”我问。
“不，谢谢。我从来不喝酒。”
我们用一百里拉赌第五号马跑头马，又花一百里拉赌它跑二马，随后又是一人一杯威士忌苏打。我觉得很高兴，又结交了两个意大利人，他们每人陪我们喝了一杯酒后，我们就去找女士们。这两个意大利人也很彬彬有礼，跟先前那两个一模一样。过了一会儿，就没人坐得下来了。我把马票递给凯瑟琳。
“买了哪匹马？”
① 这种跑马赛，一般在每场截止购马票后，由场方把每匹马上的全部押金，扣去一定比例的手续费，再用计算器算出如果跑出名次后每张马票能分到多少，在派彩处公布。
“我不知道。是迈耶斯先生选择的。”
“你连马的名字都不知道吗？”
“不知道。你往节目表上去找吧。大概是第五号。”
“你的信心真动人，”她说。第五号马果然赢了，但是付的钱很有限。迈耶斯先生很光火。“你得花二百里拉才能赢到二十里拉，”他说。“十里拉的马票得十二里拉。太不值得了。内人就输了二十里拉。”
“我跟你下去走走，”凯瑟琳对我说。意大利人都站起身。我们走下大看台，往停马的围场走去。
“这赛马你喜欢吗？”凯瑟琳问。
“是的。我想是喜欢的。”
“依我看，这也不错，”她说。“不过，亲爱的，见那么多的人我可受不了。”
“我们也没见多少人啊。”
“人是不多。不过迈耶斯夫妇，还有那个银行主任和他的妻子和女儿们——”
“我的即期支票是他兑给我的，”我说。
“不错，不过他不兑的话，别人也肯兑给你的。那最后四个小伙子更叫人难受。”
“我们就呆在这里看跑马好了，就从围栏这儿看。”
“那好极了。还有，亲爱的，我们来赌一匹从来没听见过的马，一匹迈耶斯先生不会押的马。”
“好的。”
我们押了一匹名叫“给我点燃”的马，结果跑时一共五匹，我们这匹马跑第四。我们靠在围栏上，看着马跑过，一片马蹄哒哒声，还望见了遥远的山峰以及在树木和田野后边的米兰城。
“我觉得清爽多了，”凯瑟琳说。马儿回来了，由大门走过，又湿又流汗，骑师们在叫马儿安静下来，把马带到树底下，预备下马。“你不想喝杯酒吗？我们可以在这儿喝酒赏马。”
“我去拿，”我说。
“小伙计会送来的，”凯瑟琳说。她伸手一挥，马房旁边那个卖酒凉亭上就有个小伙计跑出来。我们在一张圆铁桌边坐下了。
“你是不是觉得我们俩单独在一起更好些？”
“是的，”我说。
“跟他们在一起的时候，我觉得好孤单寂寞。”
“这儿好得很，”我说。
“是的。这赛马场果真好看。”
“是不错的。”
“你别给我弄得扫兴，亲爱的。你什么时候想回去我就回去。”
“不，”我说。“我们就留在这儿喝酒吧。等一会儿，我们下去站在越水障碍边，看障碍赛马。”
“你待我真好，”她说。
我们俩单独在一起一会儿后，倒又高兴去见旁的人们了。我们尽兴而归。
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BOOK TWO CHAPTER 21

In September the first cool nights came, then the days were cool and the leaves on the trees in the park began to turn color and we knew the summer was gone. The fighting at the front went very badly and they could not take San Gabriele. The fighting on the Bainsizza plateau was over and by the middle of the month the fighting for San Gabriele was about over too. They could not take it. Ettore was gone back to the front. The horses were gone to Rome and there was no more racing. Crowell had gone to Rome too, to be sent back to America. There were riots twice in the town against the war and bad rioting in Turin. A British major at the club told me the Italians had lost one hundred and fifty thousand men on the Bainsizza plateau and on San Gabriele. He said they had lost forty thousand on the Carso besides. We had a drink and he talked. He said the fighting was over for the year down here and that the Italians had bitten off more than they could chew. He said the offensive in Flanders was going to the bad. If they killed men as they did this fall the Allies would be cooked in another year. He said we were all cooked but we were all right as long as we did not know it. We were all cooked. The thing was not to recognize it. The last country to realize they were cooked would win the war. We had another drink. Was I on somebody's staff? No. He was. It was all balls. We were alone in the club sitting back in one of the big leather sofas. His boots were smoothly polished dull leather. They were beautiful boots. He said it was all balls. They thought only in divisions and man-power. They all squabbled about divisions and only killed them when they got them. They were all cooked. The Germans won the victories. By God they were soldiers. The old Hun was a soldier. But they were cooked too. We were all cooked. I asked about Russia. He said they were cooked already. I'd soon see they were cooked. Then the Austrians were cooked too. If they got some Hun divisions they could do it. Did he think they would attack this fall? Of course they would. The Italians were cooked. Everybody knew they were cooked. The old Hun would come down through the Trentino and cut the railway at Vicenza and then where would the Italians be? They tried that in 'sixteen, I said. Not with Germans. Yes, I said. But they probably wouldn't do that, he said. It was too simple. They'd try something complicated and get royally cooked. I had to go, I said. I had to get back to the hospital. "Good-by," he said. Then cheerily, "Every sort of luck!" There was a great contrast between his world pessimism and personal cheeriness.
I stopped at a barber shop and was shaved and went home to the hospital. My leg was as well as it would get for a long time. I had been up for examination three days before. There were still some treatments to take before my course at the Ospedale.
Maggiore was finished and I walked along the side street practising not limping. An old man was cutting silhouettes under an arcade. I stopped to watch him. Two girls were posing and he cut their silhouettes together, snipping very fast and looking at them, his head on one side. The girls were giggling. He showed me the silhouettes before he pasted them on white paper and handed them to the girls.
"They're beautiful," he said. "How about you, Tenente?"
The girls went away looking at their silhouettes and laughing. They were nice-looking girls. One of them worked in the wine shop across from the hospital.
"All right," I said.
"Take your cap off."
"No. With it on."
"It will not be so beautiful," the old man said. "But," he brightened, "it will be more military."
He snipped away at the black paper, then separated the two thicknesses and pasted the profiles on a card and handed them to me.
"How much?"
"That's all right." He waved his hand. "I just made them for you."
"please." I brought out some coppers. "For pleasure."
"No. I did them for a pleasure. Give them to your girl."
"Many thanks until we meet."
"Until I see thee."
I went on to the hospital. There were some letters, an official one, and some others. I was to have three weeks' convalescent leave and then return to the front. I read it over carefully. Well, that was that. The convalescent leave started October fourth when my course was finished. Three weeks was twenty-one days. That made October twenty-fifth. I told them I would not be in and went to the restaurant a little way up the street from the hospital for supper and read my letters and the Corriere Della Sera at the table. There was a letter from my grandfather, containing family news, patriotic encouragement, a draft for two hundred dollars, and a few clippings; a dull letter from the priest at our mess, a letter from a man I knew who was flying with the French and had gotten in with a wild gang and was telling about it, and a note from Rinaldi asking me how long I was going to skulk in Milano and what was all the news? He wanted me to bring him phonograph records and enclosed a list. I drank a small bottle of chianti with the meal, had a coffee afterward with a glass of cognac, finished the paper, put my letters in my pocket, left the paper on the table with the tip and went out. In my room at the hospital I undressed, put on pajamas and a dressing-gown, pulled down the curtains on the door that opened onto the balcony and sitting up in bed read Boston papers from a pile Mrs. Meyers had left for her boys at the hospital. The Chicago White Sox were winning the American League pennant and the New York Giants were leading the National League. Babe Ruth was a pitcher then playing for Boston. The papers were dull, the news was local and stale, and the war news was all old. The American news was all training camps. I was glad I wasn't in a training camp. The baseball news was all I could read and I did not have the slightest interest in it. A number of papers together made it impossible to read with interest. It was not very timely but I read at it for a while. I wondered if America really got into the war, if they would close down the major leagues. They probably wouldn't. There was still racing in Milan and the war could not be much worse. They had stopped racing in France. That was where our horse Japalac came from. Catherine was not due on duty until nine o'clock. I heard her passing along the floor when she first came on duty and once saw her pass in the hall. She went to several other rooms and finally came into mine.
"I'm late, darling," she said. "There was a lot to do. How are you?"
I told her about my papers and the leave.
"That's lovely," she said. "Where do you want to go?"
"Nowhere. I want to stay here."
"That's silly. You pick a place to go and I'll come too."
"How will you work it?"
"I don't know. But I will."
"You're pretty wonderful."
"No I'm not. But life isn't hard to manage when you've nothing to lose."
"How do you mean?"
"Nothing. I was only thinking how small obstacles seemed that once were so big."
"I should think it might be hard to manage."
"No it won't, darling. If necessary I'll simply leave. But it won't come to that."
"Where should we go?"
"I don't care. Anywhere you want. Anywhere we don't know people."
"Don't you care where we go?"
"No. I'll like any place."
She seemed upset and taut.
"What's the matter, Catherine?"
"Nothing. Nothing's the matter."
"Yes there is."
"No nothing. Really nothing."
"I know there is. Tell me, darling. You can tell me."
"It's nothing."
"Tell me."
"I don't want to. I'm afraid I'll make you unhappy or worry you."
"No it won't."
"You're sure? It doesn't worry me but I'm afraid to worry you."
"It won't if it doesn't worry you."
"I don't want to tell."
"Tell it."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to have a baby, darling. It's almost three months along. You're not worried, are you? please please don't. You mustn't worry."
"All right."
"Is it all right?"
"Of course."
"I did everything. I took everything but it didn't make any difference."
"I'm not worried."
"I couldn't help it, darling, and I haven't worried about it. You mustn't worry or feel badly."
"I only worry about you."
"That's it. That's what you mustn't do. people have babies all the time. Everybody has babies. It's a natural thing."
"You're pretty wonderful."
"No I'm not. But you mustn't mind, darling. I'll try and not make trouble for you. I know I've made trouble now. But haven't I been a good girl until now? You never knew it, did you?"
"No."
"It will all be like that. You simply mustn't worry. I can see you're worrying. Stop it. Stop it right away. Wouldn't you like a drink, darling? I know a drink always makes you feel cheerful."
"No. I feel cheerful. And you're pretty wonderful."
"No I'm not. But I'll fix everything to be together if you pick out a place for us to go. It ought to be lovely in October. We'll have a lovely time, darling, and I'll write you every day while you're at the front."
"Where will you be?"
"I don't know yet. But somewhere splendid. I'll look after all that."
We were quiet awhile and did not talk. Catherine was sitting on the bed and I was looking at her but we did not touch each other. We were apart as when some one comes into a room and people are self-conscious. She put out her hand and took mine.
"You aren't angry are you, darling?"
"No."
"And you don't feel trapped?"
"Maybe a little. But not by you."
"I didn't mean by me. You mustn't be stupid. I meant trapped at all."
"You always feel trapped biologically."
She went away a long way without stirring or removing her hand.
"'Always' isn't a pretty word."
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right. But you see I've never had a baby and I've never even loved any one. And I've tried to be the way you wanted and then you talk about 'always."
"I could cut off my tongue," I offered.
"Oh, darling!" she came back from wherever she had been. "You mustn't mind me." We were both together again and the self-consciousness was gone. "We really are the same one and we mustn't misunderstand on purpose."
"We won't."
"But people do. They love each other and they misunderstand on purpose and they fight and then suddenly they aren't the same one."
"We won't fight."
"We mustn't. Because there's only us two and in the world there's all the rest of them. If anything comes between us we're gone and then they have us."
"They won't get us," I said. "Because you're too brave. Nothing ever happens to the brave."
"They die of course."
"But only once."
"I don't know. Who said that?"
"The coward dies a thousand deaths, the brave but one?"
"Of course. Who said it?"
"I don't know."
"He was probably a coward," she said. "He knew a great deal about cowards but nothing about the brave. The brave dies perhaps two thousand deaths if he's intelligent. He simply doesn't mention them."
"I don't know. It's hard to see inside the head of the brave."
"Yes. That's how they keep that way."
"You're an authority."
"You're right, darling. That was deserved."
"You're brave."
"No," she said. "But I would like to be."
"I'm not," I said. "I know where I stand. I've been out long enough to know. I'm like a ball-player that bats two hundred and thirty and knows he's no better."
"What is a ball-player that bats two hundred and thirty? It's awfully impressive."
"It's not. It means a mediocre hitter in baseball."
"But still a hitter," she prodded me.
"I guess we're both conceited," I said. "But you are brave."
"No. But I hope to be."
"We're both brave," I said. "And I'm very brave when I've had a drink."
"We're splendid people," Catherine said. She went over to the armoire and brought me the cognac and a glass. "Have a drink, darling," she said. "You've been awfully good."
"I don't really want one."
"Take one."
"All right." I poured the water glass a third full of cognac and drank it off.
"That was very big," she said. "I know brandy is for heroes. But you shouldn't exaggerate."
"Where will we live after the war?"
"In an old people's home probably," she said. "For three years I looked forward very childishly to the war ending at Christmas. But now I look forward till when our son will be a lieutenant commander."
"Maybe he'll be a general."
"If it's an hundred years' war he'll have time to try both of the services."
"Don't you want a drink?"
"No. It always makes you happy, darling, and it only makes me dizzy."
"Didn't you ever drink brandy?"
"No, darling. I'm a very old-fashioned wife."
I reached down to the floor for the bottle and poured another drink.
"I'd better go to have a look at your compatriots," Catherine said. "perhaps you'll read the papers until I come back."
"Do you have to go?"
"Now or later."
"All right. Now."
"I'll come back later."
"I'll have finished the papers," I said.

第二部 第二十一章
时届九月，先是夜里阴凉，接着白天也阴凉起来，公园里的树叶一一褪色，于是我们知道夏季已经完了。前线战事失利，他们攻不下圣迦伯烈山。培恩西柴高原上的战事已经结束，到了九月中旬，圣迦伯烈山的战事也快结束了。他们攻不下这山峰。爱多亚已经回前线。马匹已运往罗马，米兰已经没有赛马了。克罗威也上罗马去了，准备从那儿回美国。米兰城里有两次反对战争的骚乱，都灵也有一次激烈的骚乱。有位英国少校在俱乐部里告诉我说，意军在培恩西柴高原和圣迦伯烈山损失达十五万人。他说，他们在卡索高原上还损失了四万人。我们喝了杯酒，他便扯开了。他说今年这儿的战事已完，意军贪心多吃了一口，已经吃不消了。他说法兰德斯的总攻击看样子也是不行的①。盟军倘若老是像今年秋天这么以士兵去乱拼，一年内就要垮台。他说我们大家都垮了，但只要大家不知道就没什么要紧。我们都垮了。不过是装做不知道罢了。哪一国拼死熬到最后才发觉这一点，便会打赢这场战争。我们又喝了一杯酒。我是不是谁的参谋？不是。他倒是的。全是胡闹。俱乐部里只有我们两人靠坐在大皮沙发上。他那暗色的皮靴，擦得闪闪发亮。好漂亮的靴子。他说全是胡闹。上级官员想的只是师团和人力。大家都为着师团争吵，一调拨给他们，便拿去拼个精光。他们都垮了。德国人打胜仗。天啊，德国佬才是真正的军人。不过他们也垮了。我问他俄罗斯怎么样？他说他们已经垮了。我宁愿看到他们垮台。还有奥军也垮了。他们倘若有几师德国兵，就可以打胜仗。照他想，今年秋天他们会不会来进攻？当然会来的。意军垮了。谁都知道意军垮了。等德国佬从特兰提诺地区冲下来，在维琴察把铁路切断，到那时候意军还能怎么样呢？他们在一九一六年就试过了，我说。那次德军没有一同来。是的，我说。他又说，他们大概不会这么做。太简单了。他们准备来个复杂一点的，弄一个大垮特垮。我得走了，我说。我得回医院了。“再会，”他说。随后又愉快地说：“万事顺利！”他对世界的悲观和他个人的乐观成了一种强烈的对照。
我在一家理发店歇下来，修了个脸才回医院。我的腿经过长期疗养，有现在的成绩也算好的了。三天前我检查过一次。我在马焦莱医院所受的机械治疗，还得去几趟才算完事，所以我特地抄小道，练习不瘸腿走路。有个老头儿在一条拱廊下替人家剪影。我停下来看他剪。有两个姑娘一起站着由他剪影，他剪得好快，边剪边侧着头看她们。姑娘们娇笑个不停。他把剪好的侧面像先拿给我看，然后贴在白纸上递给姑娘们。
“她们长得很美，”他说。“你来不来，中尉？”
姑娘们边看着她们的剪影边笑着走了。她们都长得很好看。有一个是医院对面那家酒店里的女店员。
“好的，”我说。
“脱掉帽子。”
“不。还是戴着吧。”
“那就不十分美观了，”老人说。“不过，”他高兴起来，“这样更有军人气派。”
① 法兰德斯地区包括比利时西部和法国北部，这里讲的总攻击是指1916 年英法联军与德队沿索谟河的争夺战，联军运用了新武器坦克，还是没有多大成就。
他在黑纸上剪来剪去，随后分开这两层厚纸，把侧面像贴在一张卡纸上递给我。
“多少钱？”
“用不着。”他摇摇手。“我是为你服务的。”
“请。”我掏出几个铜币来。“就当做茶钱吧。”
“不。我剪它本是一种娱乐。把钱留下给你的女朋友吧。”
“多谢，再会。”
“再会。”
我走回医院去。我有些信件，一封是公函，还有其他的。公函通知我有三星期的“疗养休假”，以后就回前线。我细心地读过一遍。也好，那就定当了。我的疗养休假自十月四日算起，我的机械治疗也就在那天结束。三星期是二十一天。那么十月二十五日我就得走了。我给他们讲一声我出去一趟，就跑到医院斜对面一家馆子去吃晚饭，就在饭桌上看信件和晚报。祖父来了一封信，讲了些家里的事以及为国尽忠的话，附有一张两百元的汇票和一些剪报；旧日同饭堂那位教士也来了一封沉闷的信；一个参加法国空军的朋友来了一封信，他现在交了一帮野朋友，满纸讲的都是荒唐事；雷那蒂也来了一封短简，问我在米兰还要躲多久，有什么新闻？他要我带些唱片回去，还开了一个单子。我吃饭时喝了一小瓶基安蒂酒。饭后一杯咖啡，一杯科涅克白兰地，读完了晚报，把信件揣在口袋里，把报纸和小账搁在桌上便走了。回到医院的房间里，我脱了衣服，换上睡衣裤和便袍，拉下通阳台的门帘，坐在床上看波士顿的报纸——那叠报纸原是迈耶斯太太留在医院里给她的“孩子们”看的。芝加哥的“白短袜”队在美国联赛中夺到冠军，而纽约“巨人队”在全国联赛中的分数遥遥领先①。宝贝鲁思②当时正在波斯顿队里当投手。报纸很沉闷，消息偏于一处地方，陈旧过时，战事报道也都是陈旧的。美国新闻讲的都是训练营的情况。幸喜我没进训练营。报纸上可以看的只有棒球比赛消息，但我对于这全没兴趣。报纸堆成一大叠，翻来翻去，无法叫人读得上劲。它们虽则已失去了时间性，我还是看了一会儿。我想，不知道美国是否真的卷入了战争，会不会把这两大联赛停下来。也许不会吧。意大利打得够糟了，米兰还不是照样有赛马。法国已停止赛马了。那匹叫做贾巴拉克的马就是从法国运来的。凯瑟琳要到九点钟才上夜班。她初上班时，我听见她在我这一层楼上的走动声响，有一次还看见她从门外走廊上走过。她到过几间病房后才走进我的这一间。
“我来晚了，亲爱的，”她说。“方才有好些事得做。你好啊？”
我把我收到的公函和休假的消息告诉了她。
“好极啦，”她说。“你打算上哪儿去呢？”
“都不去。我要呆在这儿。”
“那太傻了，你拣个地方，我跟着来。”
“你怎么能够跟着来？”
“还不知道。不过我会来的。”
“你很行。”
① 美国的棒球比赛是一种群众性的娱乐活动。全国各大城市都有职业球队参加“美国联赛”或“全国联赛”两大全国性的联赛。杰出运动员受人崇拜欢迎，犹如明星。
② 宝贝鲁思后来以击全垒打著名，是美国棒球史上的杰出运动员。
“哪里。只要你不计较得失的话，人生还有什么不能想法子克服的。”
“你这话什么意思？”
“没什么。我只在想，以前有些困难，当时看来很大很大，但回想起来，只是一些小阻碍罢了。”
“我倒以为是很难想法子的。”
“没有什么大困难，亲爱的。顶多是我一走了之。但是也不必走到这一地步。”
“我们上哪儿去呢？”
“哪儿都行。你要上哪儿去都行。只要是没熟人的地方。”'
“我们上哪儿去你都不在乎吗？”
“无所谓。哪儿都行。”
她的模样似乎烦躁紧张。
“怎么啦，凯瑟琳？”
“没事。没有什么。”
“一定有事。”
“没事。真的没事。”
“我知道有事。告诉我，亲爱的。你可以告诉我。”
“没有什么。”
“告诉我。”
“我不想说。我怕说了会叫你不高兴或者担心。”
“不会的。”
“你果真不会吗？我倒不愁，只怕你发愁。”
“你不愁的事我自然也不会愁的。”
“我不想说。”
“说吧。”
“非说不可吗？”
“要说。”
“我有孩子了，亲爱的。差不多三个月了。你不发愁吧？请你不要愁。你一定不要发愁。”
“好吧。”
“果真是好吧？”
“自然啦。”
“我用尽了种种方法。我什么药都吃，但是都没有效力。”“我并不愁。”
“我真是没有法子想，亲爱的，我倒也不去愁它。请你不要发愁或者不好过。”
“我只是为你发愁。”
“那就不对了。你就是不该为我发愁。人家时时都在生孩子。人人都在怀孕。这本是自然而然的。”
“你很行。”
“哪里。不过你千万别操心，亲爱的。我一定想法子不给你添麻烦。我知道我现在惹起了麻烦。但是在这以前我岂不是个好姑娘吗？你岂不是完全不知道吗？”
“不知道。”
“以后就这样好了。你根本不必发愁。我看得出你在发愁。别愁吧。立刻别愁了。你不想喝杯酒吗，亲爱的？我知道你喝了杯酒就会兴致好。”“不。我兴致很好。你实在相当行。”
“哪里。只要你拣好什么地方，我一定想法子跟着去，在一起住。十月的天气一定是可爱的。我们一定能过快乐幸福的日子，亲爱的，等你上了前线我天天给你写信。”
“那时候你自己上哪儿去呢？”
“我现在还不知道。但是总会有个好地方的吧。由我自己来想法子吧。”
我们静默了一会儿，都不开口。凯瑟琳坐在床沿上，我望着她，彼此不接触。我们中间有了距离，仿佛有个第三者闯进了房间，彼此都觉得怪不自然。她伸出手来抓住我的手。
“你不生气吗，亲爱的？”
“不。”
“还有你不至于觉得上了圈套吧？”
“也许有一点。但不是上了你的圈套。”
“我没有说是我的圈套。别傻头傻脑。我的意思只是说有没有上了圈套的感觉。”
“从生物学的观点来讲，你总是觉得上了圈套。”
她的心跑得远远的，虽则身体没动弹，手也没有挪开。
“‘总是’这两字不大好听。”
“对不起。”
“没有关系。但是你瞧，我从来没怀过孩子，甚至从来没爱过人。我一向都想法子顺从你，你现在倒说起‘总是’这种话来。”
“我把舌头割掉吧，”我建议。
“哦，亲爱的！”她从她远去的地方回来了。“你可别太认真。”我们又在一起了，方才那种不自然的感觉消失了。“我们俩本是一个人，可别故意产生误会。”
“我们不会的。”
“但是人家可是这样子的。他们先是相爱，故意产生误会，争吵，到末了两人的感情忽然变了。”
“我们不争吵。”
“我们不该争吵。因为你我只有两人，而跟我们作对的是整个世界上的人。如果你我产生隔膜，我们就完蛋了，人家就能征服我们。”
“人家征服不了我们，”我说。“因为你太勇敢了。勇敢的人一定没事。”
“死总是要死的。”
“不过只死一次。”
“我不知道。这句话是谁说的？”
“懦夫千死，勇者只有一死！”①“当然就是这句话。谁说的？”
“不知道。”
“说这话的人大概还是个懦夫，”她说。“他对懦夫很熟悉，对勇者可全不知道。勇者倘若是聪明人的话，也许要死上两千次。他只是不说出来就是啦。”
“这倒难说。要了解勇者的内心可不容易。”
“对啦。勇者就是这么不吐露内心的。”
“你倒像个权威。”
“你讲得对，亲爱的。该是个权威。”
“你是勇敢的。”
“不，”她说。“不过我很想做个勇者。”
“我不是勇者，”我说，“我知道自己的地位。我在外边混了这么久，也认识自己了。我就像个球员，知道自己击球的成绩只能达到两百三十，再努力也不行。”
“击球的成绩两百三十的球员是什么样的人呢？听起来挺神气的。”“哪里。从玩棒球的人来说，只是个平平常常的击球手。”
“不过还算是个击球手啊，”她逗着我说。
“依我看，你我都是自命不凡的家伙，”我说。“不过你是勇敢的。”
“我不是。不过我希望做个勇者。”
“我们俩都是勇敢的，”我说。“我喝了一杯酒就很勇敢。”“我们两人都满好，”凯瑟琳说。她走到镜橱边，拿出一瓶科涅克白兰地和一个杯子给我。“喝杯酒吧，亲爱的，”她说。“你的态度很好。”“我不是真的想喝酒。”
“喝一杯。”
“好。”我在喝水玻璃杯里倒了三分之一的科涅克白兰地，一口喝干了。
“这很伟大，”她说。“我知道白兰地是英雄喝的。不过你也不必过分。”
“战后我们上哪儿住去呢？”
“大概在一家养老院吧，”她说。“三年来我总是孩子气地痴想战事会在圣诞节结束。但是现在我要等待我们的儿子先当上了海军少校再说。”
“也许他还要当上将军呢。”
“倘若是百年战争的话，他来得及在海陆两方面都试一试。”
“你不想喝杯酒吗？”
“不。酒总是使你高兴，亲爱的，但只叫我头昏。”
“你从来不喝白兰地吗？”
“不喝，亲爱的。我是个很老派的老婆。”
我伸手到地板上去拿酒瓶，又倒了一杯酒。
“我还是去看看你的同胞们吧，”凯瑟琳说。“或者你看看报等我回来。”
“你非去不可吗？”
“现在不去，过一会还是得去的。”
“好的。还是现在去吧。”
“我等一会儿再回来。”
“那时我报就看完了，”我说。
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BOOK TWO CHAPTER 22

It turned cold that night and the next day it was raining. Coming home from the Ospedale Maggiore it rained very hard and I was wet when I came in. Up in my room the rain was coming down heavily outside on the balcony, and the wind blew it against the glass doors. I changed my clothing and drank some brandy but the brandy did not taste good. I felt sick in the night and in the morning after breakfast I was nauseated.
"There is no doubt about it," the house surgeon said. "Look at the whites of his eyes, Miss."
Miss Gage looked. They had me look in a glass. The whites of the eyes were yellow and it was the jaundice. I was sick for two weeks with it. For that reason we did not spend a convalescent leave together. We had planned to go to pallanza on Lago Maggiore. It is nice there in the fall when the leaves turn. There are walks you can take and you can troll for trout in the lake. It would have been better than Stresa because there are fewer people at pallanza. Stresa is so easy to get to from Milan that there are always people you know. There is a nice village at pallanza and you can row out to the islands where the fishermen live and there is a restaurant on the biggest island. But we did not go.
One day while I was in bed with jaundice Miss Van Campen came in the room, opened the door into the armoire and saw the empty bottles there. I had sent a load of them down by the porter and I believe she must have seen them going out and come up to find some more. They were mostly vermouth bottles, marsala bottles, capri bottles, empty chianti flasks and a few cognac bottles. The porter had carried out the large bottles, those that had held vermouth, and the straw-covered chianti flasks, and left the brandy bottles for the last. It was the brandy bottles and a bottle shaped like a bear, which had held kmel, that Miss Van Campen found. The bear shaped bottle enraged her particularly. She held it up, the bear was sitting up on his haunches with his paws up, there was a cork in his glass head and a few sticky crystals at the bottom. I laughed.
"It is kmel," I said. "The best kmel comes in those bearshaped bottles. It comes from Russia."
"Those are all brandy bottles, aren't they?" Miss Van Campen asked.
"I can't see them all," I said. "But they probably are."
"How long has this been going on?"
"I bought them and brought them in myself," I said. "I have had Italian officers visit me frequently and I have kept brandy to offer them."
"You haven't been drinking it yourself?" she said.
"I have also drunk it myself."
"Brandy," she said. "Eleven empty bottles of brandy and that bear liquid."
"Kmel."
"I will send for some one to take them away. Those are all the empty bottles you have?"
"For the moment."
"And I was pitying you having jaundice. pity is something that is wasted on you."
"Thank you."
"I suppose you can't be blamed for not wanting to go back to the front. But I should think you would try something more intelligent than producing jaundice with alcoholism."
"With what?"
"With alcoholism. You heard me say it." I did not say anything. "Unless you find something else I'm afraid you will have to go back to the front when you are through with your jaundice. I don't believe self-inflicted jaundice entitles you to a convalescent leave."
"You don't?"
"I do not."
"Have you ever had jaundice, Miss Van Campen?"
"No, but I have seen a great deal of it."
"You noticed how the patients enjoyed it?"
"I suppose it is better than the front."
"Miss Van Campen," I said, "did you ever know a man who tried to disable himself by kicking himself in the scrotum?"
Miss Van Campen ignored the actual question. She had to ignore it or leave the room. She was not ready to leave because she had disliked me for a long time and she was now cashing in.
"I have known many men to escape the front through self-inflicted wounds."
"That wasn't the question. I have seen self-inflicted wounds also. I asked you if you had ever known a man who had tried to disable himself by kicking himself in the scrotum. Because that is the nearest sensation to jaundice and it is a sensation that I believe few women have ever experienced. That was why I asked you if you had ever had the jaundice, Miss Van Campen, because--" Miss Van Campen left the room. Later Miss Gage came in.
"What did you say to Van Campen? She was furious."
"We were comparing sensations. I was going to suggest that she had never experienced childbirth--"
"You're a fool," Gage said. "She's after your scalp."
"She has my scalp," I said. "She's lost me my leave and she might try and get me court-martialled. She's mean enough."
"She never liked you," Gage said. "What's it about?"
"She says I've drunk myself into jaundice so as not to go back to the front."
"pooh," said Gage. "I'll swear you've never taken a drink. Everybody will swear you've never taken a drink."
"She found the bottles."
"I've told you a hundred times to clear out those bottles. Where are they now?"
"In the armoire."
"Have you a suitcase?"
"No. put them in that rucksack."
Miss Gage packed the bottles in the rucksack. "I'll give them to the porter," she said. She started for the door.
"Just a minute," Miss Van Campen said. "I'll take those bottles." She had the porter with her. "Carry them, please," she said. "I want to show them to the doctor when I make my report."
She went down the hall. The porter carried the sack. He knew what was in it.
Nothing happened except that I lost my leave.

第二部 第二十二章
那天夜里天气转冷，第二天下起雨来。我从马焦莱医院回来时雨很大，赶到房里，浑身淋湿了。在我楼上的病房里，外边阳台上雨沉重地下着，风刮着雨，打在玻璃门上。我换了衣服，喝了一点白兰地，但是白兰地喝起来没有味道。当天夜里就觉得不舒服，第二天早饭后竟然呕吐起来。“没有疑问，”住院医师说。“瞧他的眼白，小姐。”
盖琪小姐看了一看。他们拿面镜子叫我自己照。我的眼白发黄，原来是黄疸病。为这黄疸，我病了两星期。所以我便没有和凯瑟琳一起过“疗养休假”。我们本来计划到马焦莱湖上的巴兰萨去。在树叶转黄的秋天，那儿一定很好玩。那儿有散步的幽径，可以在湖上拖钩钓鳟鱼。那地方比施特雷沙好得多，因为人少一点。施特雷沙和米兰的交通非常方便，总会碰上熟人。巴兰萨那边有个好村庄，你可以划船到渔夫住的那些小岛上去玩，其中最大的一座岛上还有一家饭馆。但是结果我们没有去成。有一天，我因为黄疸病躺在床上，范坎本女士走进房来，打开镜橱，看到了里边的那些空酒瓶。我曾叫门房拿走一批空瓶，准是给她碰到了，因此跑上再来搜查一下。瓶子大多是味美思瓶、马萨拉葡萄酒瓶、卡普里酒瓶、吉安蒂酒瓶和一些科涅克白兰地瓶。门房先取走的是大一点的瓶子，是装味美思和那种用稻草包起来的基安蒂酒瓶，还剩下些白兰地瓶子预备等一下再拿。范坎本女士搜查到的正是这些白兰地瓶子和一个狗熊形的瓶子，里边装着莳萝利口酒。狗熊形的瓶子特别叫她光火。她把它拿起来看看，这狗熊是蹲着的，前爪向上，玻璃熊头上有个瓶塞，底部粘着一些玻璃珠。我大笑起来。
“这是莳萝利口酒，”我说。“最好的莳萝利口酒才用这种狗熊瓶装。是的产品。”
“那些可不都是白兰地瓶子吗？”范坎本女士问。
“我只看得见一部分，”我说。“不过大概都是吧。”
“你这样擅自喝酒有多久了？”
“这都是我自己买了带回来的，”我说。“我时常有意大利军官来探望我，不得不备点白兰地招待他们。”
“难道你自己就不喝吗？”她说。
“我自己也喝。”
“白兰地，”她说。“十一只白兰地空瓶子，还有那瓶狗熊酒。”“莳萝利口酒。”
“我打发个人来拿走。你的空酒瓶都在这儿吗？”
“目前只有这一些。”
“可我还在可怜你的黄疸病哩。怜悯用在你身上是白搭。”“谢谢你。”
“你不愿意上前线，倒也难怪。不过故意纵酒来害上黄疸病，那未免太不聪明啦。”
“你说我故意什么？”
“故意纵酒。你明明听见的嘛。”我一声不响。“除非你还能找到什么别的借口，你这黄疸一好，就得回前线。我不相信你这自己促成的黄疸病使你有资格享受疗养休假。”
“你不相信？”
“我不相信。”
“你自己生过黄疸病没有，范坎本女士？”
“没有，但是这种病人我倒见过不少。”
“你发觉这种病人好过吗？”“总比前线好一点吧。”
“范坎本女士，”我说，“你可曾听说有人因为想逃避军役而自踢阴部？”
范坎本女士不理睬我这个实际问题。她只好不睬，要不就得离开房间。她不愿意走开，因为她素来不喜欢我，现在正可趁机编派我一顿。“我倒知道有好些人，为要逃避上前线，故意叫自己受伤的。”“问题不在这里。故意叫自己受伤的人我也见过。我问你的是：你可曾听见有人因为想逃避兵役而自踢阴部？因为这种感觉与黄疸最相近，依我想，女人很少有这种经验。所以我问你生过黄疸病没有，范坎本女士，因为——”范坎本女士走出房去了。后来，盖琪小姐走进来。
“你对范坎本说了什么来着？她气坏了。”
“我们不过在比较各种感觉。我刚刚要说她没有生小孩的经验——”
“你这傻瓜，”盖琪说。“她要你的命。”
“她已经要了我的命，”我说。“她取消了我的休假，不如索性让她叫我上军事法庭吧。她太卑鄙了。”
“她一直不喜欢你，”盖琪说。“到底吵什么啊？”
“她说我故意纵酒促成黄疸，免得回前线。”
“呸，”盖琪说。“我来发誓说你从来没喝过酒。人人都愿意发誓证明你没喝过酒。”
“她已抄到了酒瓶子啦。”
“我不是十遍百遍叫你把那些瓶子清出去么？现在瓶子呢？”
“镜橱里。”
“你有没有只手提包？”
“没有。把瓶子装在帆布背包里吧。”
盖琪小姐把瓶子装在背包里。“我拿给门房去，”她说。她朝房门走。
“等一等，”范坎本女士说。“瓶子交给我。”她早把门房喊来了。“请你拎着，”她说。“我打报告的时候，要给医生看看。”
她沿着走廊走去。门房提着背包跟着。他知道里边是什么。
我除了失掉休假以外，倒没有什么别的事。
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BOOK TWO CHAPTER 23
The night I was to return to the front I sent the porter down to hold a seat for me on the train when it came from Turin. The train was to leave at midnight. It was made up at Turin and reached Milan about half-past ten at night and lay in the station until time to leave. You had to be there when it came in, to get a seat. The porter took a friend with him, a machine-gunner on leave who worked in a tailor shop, and was sure that between them they could hold a place. I gave them money for platform tickets and had them take my baggage. There was a big rucksack and two musettes.
I said good-by at the hospital at about five o'clock and went out. The porter had my baggage in his lodge and I told him I would be at the station a little before midnight. His wife called me "Signorino" and cried. She wiped her eyes and shook hands and then cried again. I patted her on the back and she cried once more. She had done my mending and was a very short dumpy, happy-faced woman with white hair. When she cried her whole face went to pieces. I went down to the corner where there was a wine shop and waited inside looking out the window. It was dark outside and cold and misty. I paid for my coffee and grappa and I watched the people going by in the light from the window. I saw Catherine and knocked on the window. She looked, saw me and smiled, and I went out to meet her. She was wearing a dark blue cape and a soft felt hat. We walked along together, along the sidewalk past the wine shops, then across the market square and up the street and through the archway to the cathedral square. There were streetcar tracks and beyond them was the cathedral. It was white and wet in the mist. We crossed the tram tracks. On our left were the shops, their windows lighted, and the entrance to the galleria. There was a fog in the square and when we came close to the front of the cathedral it was very big and the stone was wet.
"Would you like to go in?"
"No," Catherine said. We walked along. There was a soldier standing with his girl in the shadow of one of the stone buttresses ahead of us and we passed them. They were standing tight up against the stone and he had put his cape around her.
"They're like us," I said.
"Nobody is like us," Catherine said. She did not mean it happily.
"I wish they had some place to go."
"It mightn't do them any good."
"I don't know. Everybody ought to have some place to go."
"They have the cathedral," Catherine said. We were past it now. We crossed the far end of the square and looked back at the cathedral. It was fine in the mist. We were standing in front of the leather goods shop. There were riding boots, a rucksack and ski boots in the window. Each article was set apart as an exhibit; the rucksack in the centre, the riding boots on one side and the ski boots on the other. The leather was dark and oiled smooth as a used saddle. The electric light made high lights on the dull oiled leather.
"We'll ski some time."
"In two months there will be ski-ing at Mflrren," Catherine said.
"Let's go there."
"All right," she said. We went on past other windows and turned down a side street.
"I've never been this way."
"This is the way I go to the hospital," I said. It was a narrow street and we kept on the right-hand side. There were many people passing in the fog. There were shops and all the windows were lighted. We looked in a window at a pile of cheeses. I stopped in front of an armorer's shop.
"Come in a minute. I have to buy a gun."
"What sort of gun?"
"A pistol." We went in and I unbuttoned my belt and laid it with the emply holster on the counter. Two women were behind the counter. The women brought out several pistols.
"It must fit this," I said, opening the holster. It was a gray leather holster and I had bought it second-hand to wear in the town.
"Have they good pistols?" Catherine asked.
"They're all about the same. Can I try this one?" I asked the woman.
"I have no place now to shoot," she said. "But it is very good. You will not make a mistake with it."
I snapped it and pulled back the action. The spring was rather strong but it worked smoothly. I sighted it and snapped it again.
"It is used," the woman said. "It belonged to an officer who was an excellent shot."
"Did you sell it to him?"
"Yes."
"How did you get it back?"
"From his orderly."
"Maybe you have mine," I said. "How much is this?"
"Fifty lire. It is very cheap."
"All right. I want two extra clips and a box of cartridges."
She brought them from under the counter.
"Have you any need for a sword?" she asked. "I have some used swords very cheap."
"I'm going to the front," I said.
"Oh yes, then you won't need a sword," she said.
I paid for the cartridges and the pistol, filled the magazine and put it in place, put the pistol in my empty holster, filled the extra clips with cartridges and put them in the leather slots on the holster and then buckled on my belt. The pistol felt heavy on the belt. Still, I thought, it was better to have a regulation pistol. You could always get shells.
"Now we're fully armed," I said. "That was the one thing I had to remember to do. Some one got my other one going to the hospital."
"I hope it's a good pistol," Catherine said.
"Was there anything else?" the woman asked.
"I don't believe so."
"The pistol has a lanyard," she said.
"So I noticed."
The woman wanted to sell something else.
"You don't need a whistle?"
"I don't believe so."
The woman said good-by and we went out onto the sidewalk. Catherine looked in the window. The woman looked out and bowed to us.
"What are those little mirrors set in wood for?"
"They're for attracting birds. They twirl them out in the field and larks see them and come out and the Italians shoot them."
"They are an ingenious people," Catherine said. "You don't shoot larks do you, darling, in America?"
"Not especially."
We crossed the street and started to walk up the other side.
"I feel better now," Catherine said. "I felt terrible when we started."
"We always feel good when we're together."
"We always will be together."
"Yes, except that I'm going away at midnight."
"Don't think about it, darling."
We walked on up the street. The fog made the lights yellow.
"Aren't you tired?" Catherine asked.
"How about you?"
"I'm all right. It's fun to walk."
"But let's not do it too long."
"No."
We turned down a side street where there were no lights and walked in the street. I stopped and kissed Catherine. While I kissed her I felt her hand on my shoulder. She had pulled my cape around her so it covered both of us. We were standing in the street against a high wall.
"Let's go some place," I said.
"Good," said Catherine. We walked on along the street until it came out onto a wider street that was beside a canal. On the other side was a brick wall and buildings. Ahead, down the street, I saw a streetcar cross a bridge.
"We can get a cab up at the bridge," I said. We stood on the bridge in the fog waiting for a carriage. Several streetcars passed, full of people going home. Then a carriage came along but there was some one in it. The fog was turning to rain.
"We could walk or take a tram," Catherine said.
"One will be along," I said. "They go by here."
"Here one comes," she said.
The driver stopped his horse and lowered the metal sign on his meter. The top of the carriage was up and there were drops of water on the driver's coat. His varnished hat was shining in the wet. We sat back in the seat together and the top of the carriage made it dark.
"Where did you tell him to go?"
"To the station. There's a hotel across from the station where we can go."
"We can go the way we are? Without luggage?"
"Yes," I said.
It was a long ride to the station up side streets in the rain.
"Won't we have dinner?" Catherine asked. "I'm afraid I'll be hungry."
"We'll have it in our room."
"I haven't anything to wear. I haven't even a night-gown."
"We'll get one," I said and called to the driver.
"Go to the Via Manzoni and up that." He nodded and turned off to the left at the next corner. On the big street Catherine watched for a shop.
"Here's a place," she said. I stopped the driver and Catherine got out, walked across the sidewalk and went inside. I sat back in the carriage and waited for her. It was raining and I could smell the wet street and the horse steaming in the rain. She came back with a package and got in and we drove on.
"I was very extravagant, darling," she said, "but it's a fine night-gown."
At the hotel I asked Catherine to wait in the carriage while I went in and spoke to the manager. There were plenty of rooms. Then I went out to the carriage, paid the driver, and Catherine and I walked in together. The small boy in buttons carried the package.
The manager bowed us toward the elevator. There was much red plush and brass. The manager went up in the elevator with us.
"Monsieur and Madame wish dinner in their rooms?"
"Yes. Will you have the menu brought up?" I said.
"You wish something special for dinner. Some game or a souffl?"
The elevator passed three floors with a click each time, then clicked and stopped.
"What have you as game?"
"I could get a pheasant, or a woodcock."
"A woodcock," I said. We walked down the corridor. The carpet was worn. There were many doors. The manager stopped and unlocked a door and opened it.
"Here you are. A lovely room."
The small boy in buttons put the package on the table in the centre of the room. The manager opened the curtains.
"It is foggy outside," he said. The room was furnished in red plush. There were many mirrors, two chairs and a large bed with a satin coverlet. A door led to the bathroom.
"I will send up the menu," the manager said. He bowed and went out.
I went to the window and looked out, then pulled a cord that shut the thick plush curtains. Catherine was sitting on the bed, looking at the cut glass chandelier. She had taken her hat off and her hair shone under the light. She saw herself in one of the mirrors and put her hands to her hair. I saw her in three other mirrors. She did not look happy. She let her cape fall on the bed.
"What's the matter, darling?"
"I never felt like a whore before," she said. I went over to the window and pulled the curtain aside and looked out. I had not thought it would be like this.
"You're not a whore."
"I know it, darling. But it isn't nice to feel like one." Her voice was dry and flat.
"This was the best hotel we could get in," I said. I looked out the window. Across the square were the lights of the station. There were carriages going by on the street and I saw the trees in the park. The lights from the hotel shone on the wet pavement. Oh, hell, I thought, do we have to argue now?
"Come over here please," Catherine said. The flatness was all gone out of her voice. "Come over, please. I'm a good girl again." I looked over at the bed. She was smiling.
I went over and sat on the bed beside her and kissed her.
"You're my good girl."
"I'm certainly yours," she said.
After we had eaten we felt fine, and then after, we felt very happy and in a little time the room felt like our own home. My room at the hospital had been our own home and this room was our home too in the same way.
Catherine wore my tunic over her shoulders while we ate. We were very hungry and the meal was good and we drank a bottle of Capri and a bottle of St. Estephe. I drank most of it but Catherine drank some and it made her feel splendid. For dinner we had a woodcock with souffl?potatoes and pur閑 de marron, a salad, and zabaione for dessert.
"It's a fine room," Catherine said. "It's a lovely room. We should have stayed here all the time we've been in Milan."
"It's a funny room. But it's nice."
"Vice is a wonderful thing," Catherine said. "The people who go in for it seem to have good taste about it. The red plush is really fine. It's just the thing. And the mirrors are very attractive."
"You're a lovely girl."
"I don't know how a room like this would be for waking up in the morning. But it's really a splendid room." I poured another glass of St. Estephe.
"I wish we could do something really sinful," Catherine said. "Everything we do seems so innocent and simple. I can't believe we do anything wrong."
"You're a grand girl."
"I only feel hungry. I get terribly hungry."
"You're a fine simple girl," I said.
"I am a simple girl. No one ever understood it except you."
"Once when I first met you I spent an afternoon thinking how we would go to the Hotel Cavour together and how it would be."
"That was awfully cheeky of you. This isn't the Cavour is it?"
"No. They wouldn't have taken us in there."
"They'll take us in some time. But that's how we differ, darling. I never thought about anything."
"Didn't you ever at all?"
"A little," she said.
"Oh you're a lovely girl."
I poured another glass of wine.
"I'm a very simple girl," Catherine said.
"I didn't think so at first. I thought you were a crazy girl."
"I was a little crazy. But I wasn't crazy in any complicated manner. I didn't confuse you did I, darling?"
"Wine is a grand thing," I said. "It makes you forget all the bad."
"It's lovely," said Catherine. "But it's given my father gout very badly."
"Have you a father?"
"Yes," said Catherine. "He has gout. You won't ever have to meet him. Haven't you a father?"
"No," I said. "A step-father."
"Will I like him?"
"You won't have to meet him."
"We have such a fine time," Catherine said. "I don't take any interest in anything else any more. I'm so very happy married to you."
The waiter came and took away the things. After a while we were very still and we could hear the rain. Down below on the street a motor car honked.
"'But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near,' " I said.
"I know that poem," Catherine said. "It's by Marvell. But it's about a girl who wouldn't live with a man."
My head felt very clear and cold and I wanted to talk facts.
"Where will you have the baby?"
"I don't know. The best place I can find."
"How will you arrange it?"
"The best way I can. Don't worry, darling. We may have several babies before the war is over."
"It's nearly time to go."
"I know. You can make it time if you want."
"No."
"Then don't worry, darling. You were fine until now and now you're worrying."
"I won't. How often will you write?"
"Every day. Do they read your letters?"
"They can't read English enough to hurt any."
"I'll make them very confusing," Catherine said.
"But not too confusing."
"I'll just make them a little confusing."
"I'm afraid we have to start to go."
"All right, darling."
"I hate to leave our fine house."
"So do I."
"But we have to go."
"All right. But we're never settled in our home very long."
"We will be."
"I'll have a fine home for you when you come back."
"Maybe I'll be back right away."
"perhaps you'll be hurt just a little in the foot."
"Or the lobe of the ear."
"No I want your ears the way they are."
"And not my feet?"
"Your feet have been hit already."
"We have to go, darling. Really."
"All right. You go first."

第二部 第二十三章
我回前线的那个夜晚，打发门房上车站，等火车从都灵开来，给我占一只座位。火车定在夜半开出。列车先在都灵编好，开到米兰约在夜里十时半左右，就停在车站里，等到午夜才开。要座位的话，你得赶火车一开到米兰就上去抢。门房拉了一个在休假的当机熗手（原来的职业是裁缝）的朋友作陪，两人合作，总可以抢到一只位子。我给了他们买月台票的钱，行李也交他们带去。我的行李计有一个大背包和两只野战背包。午后五点钟左右，我向医院人员告别，走了出去。我的行李放在门房的屋子里，我告诉他说，我快到半夜时到车站去。他的妻子叫我“少爷”，这时哭了。她揩揩眼睛，跟我握握手，接着又哭了。我拍拍她的背，她又哭起来。她以往给我补东西，是个又矮又胖的女人，笑嘻嘻的脸，一头白发。她一哭起来，整个脸就好像碎了一般。我走到拐弯上一家酒店里去等，望着店窗外。外面黑暗，寒冷，又有雾。我付了我那杯咖啡和格拉巴酒的钱，借着窗口的光，张望着外面走过的行人。我看见了凯瑟琳，便敲敲窗户。她张望了一下，看见是我，便笑一笑，我走出去迎接她。她身披一件深蓝色的斗篷，头戴一顶软毡帽。我们沿着人行道一同走过那些酒店，穿过市场，转上大街，穿过一道拱门，到了大教堂广场。那儿有电车轨道，再过去便是大教堂。在雾里，教堂显得又白又湿。我们跨过了电车轨道。我们的左边是店窗明亮的铺子和拱廊的入口。广场上罩着一层雾，当我们走到大教堂跟前时，教堂显得非常宏伟，石头的墙壁湿漉漉的。
“你想进去吗？”
“不，”凯瑟琳说。我们朝前走。前面一个石扶壁的暗影里，站有一位士兵和他的女朋友。我们走过他们的身边。他们正紧挨着石壁站着，士兵用他的披肩裹住了她。
“他们像我们一样，”我说。
“没有人像我们，”凯瑟琳说。她的口气可不是指快乐的方面。“我希望他们有个地方可以去。”
“这对他们也不见得有好处吧。”“这也难说。人人总得有个地方可以去才好。”
“他们可以进大教堂去，”凯瑟琳说。我们已经走过那教堂了。我们跨过广场的另一头，回头望望大教堂。它在雾中的确很美。我们正站在皮货铺前。店窗里放着马靴、一只背包和滑雪靴。每件物品单独放开陈列着；背包摆在中间，一边放着马靴，一边放着滑雪靴。皮呈暗色，给油敷得像旧马靴一样光滑。电灯光把这些暗色的皮件照耀得亮光光的。
“我们什么时候滑雪去。”
“两个月后缪伦在就可以滑雪了，”凯瑟琳说。“我们就上那儿去吧。”
“好的，”她说。我们走过别的店窗，拐进一条小街。
“这条街我从来没走过。”
“我上医院去就抄这条近路，”我说。那是一狭窄的小街，我们靠着右边走。雾里有许多人走过。沿街尽是铺子，店窗里都点着灯。有一个店窗里放着一叠干酪，我们张望了一下。我在一家熗械铺子前停住脚。“进去一会在死前死上好多次，儿吧。我得买支熗。”
“哪种熗？”
“手熗。”我们走进去，我把身上的皮带连同空的手熗套解了下来搁在柜台上。柜台后边有两个女人。她们拿出几支手熗来。
“得配上这手熗套，”我说，把手熗套打开。那套子是灰色皮的，是我从旧货摊买来，在城里佩带的。
“她们有好的手熗吗？”凯瑟琳问。
“都是差不多的。这一支我试试行吗？”我问店里的女人。
“现在这里可没有试熗的地方，”她说。“熗倒是很好的。包你没错儿。”
我把扳机扳了一下，再把弹机往回拉。弹簧虽太紧一点，倒很顺手。我瞄瞄准，啪地扳了一下扳机。
“熗是用过的，”那女人说。“原是一位军官的，他熗打得很准。”“是你卖给他的吗？”
“是的。”
“你怎么收回来的呢？”
“从他的勤务兵手里。”“说不定我的你也会收回来的，”我说。“多少钱？”
“五十里拉。很便宜。”
“好的。我还要两只额外弹夹和一盒子弹。”
她从柜台底下取出这些东西来。
“你要不要佩刀？”她问。“我有几把人家用过的佩刀，很便宜。”“我是要上前线的，”我说。
“哦，那你用不着佩刀了，”她说。
我付了子弹和手熗的钱，把子弹装进弹仓，插好，接着把手熗装在手熗套里，额外弹夹里也装上了子弹，然后插在手熗套上的皮槽里，最后才把皮带围在身上束紧。我觉得手熗在皮带上沉甸甸的。不过最好还是佩带那种军队规定的手熗。因为子弹的来源可以不发生问题。
“现在我有全副武装了，”我说。“这是我不能忘了做的一件事。我另外一支熗在我上医院来时给人家拿走了。”
“我希望这是支好熗，”凯瑟琳说。
“还需要什么旁的吗？”那女人问。
“大概没有了吧。”
“手熗上有根扣带，”她说。
“我看到了。”那女人想兜卖别的东西。
“你不需要个哨子吗？”
“大概用不着吧。”
女人说了再会，我们走到外边人行道上。凯瑟琳望望店窗。女人往外望，向我们欠欠身子。
“那些木镶的小镜子是做什么用的？”
“是用来吸引飞鸟的。他们拿这种小镜子在田野里转来转去，云雀看见便飞出来，意大利人就开熗打。”
“真是个别出心裁的民族，”凯瑟琳说。“亲爱的，你们在美国不打云雀的吧？”
“倒没有专门打的。”
我们跨过街，开始在街的那一边走。
“我现在感觉好一点了，”凯瑟琳说。“方才出发时我怪不好受。”
“我们在一起总觉得好受。”
“我们要永远在一起。”“是的，不过我半夜就得走了。”
“别想它，亲爱的。”
我们沿着街走去。雾使得街灯发黄。
“你不疲倦吗？”凯瑟琳问。
“你呢？”
“我没事。散步很有趣。”
“可别走得太长久了。”
“是的。”
我们拐进一条没有灯光的小街，走了一会。我站住了吻凯瑟琳。我吻她时感觉到她的手搭在我肩膀上。她把我的披肩罩在她身上，于是我们两人都给裹上了。我们站在街上，身子靠着一道高墙。
“找个地方去吧，”我说。
“好，”凯瑟琳说。我们沿街走去，走到运河边一条比较宽阔的街道。街的另一边有道砖墙和一些建筑物。我看见前面有一部电车正在过桥。“我们可以在桥上雇部马车，”我说。我们站在雾中的桥上等待马车。几部电车开过去了，满装着回家的人们。随后有部马车赶来了，可是里边有个人。雾现已转成雨。
“我们不如步行或者赶电车吧，”凯瑟琳说。
“总有一部要来的，”我说。“马车一向打这儿经过的。”
“有一部来了，”她说。
车夫停下马，把计算表上那块金属的出租招牌放了下来。车篷早已罩上了，赶车的外衣上淌着雨水。他那顶有光泽的礼帽给打湿了，闪闪发亮。我们一同往后靠坐在车座里，因为罩着车篷，里边很暗。
“你叫他上哪儿去？”
“车站。车站对面有一家旅馆，我们就上那儿去。”
“我们这样子去行吗？没有行李？”
“行，”我说。
马车冒雨在一些小街上走，上车站去路程相当远。
“我们不吃晚饭吗？”凯瑟琳问。“等一会恐怕肚子要饿了。”
“我们就在旅馆房间里吃饭。”
“我没衣服穿，连件睡衣都没有。”
“买一件吧，”我说罢就喊赶车的。“绕到曼佐尼大街上去一下。”他点点头，车子到了拐弯的地方就向左走。到了大街上，凯瑟琳留心找店铺。
“这儿有一家，”她说。我叫赶车的停下马，凯瑟琳下了车，跨过人行道，进了店铺。我靠在马车里等她。外面下着雨，我闻到给打湿的街道和马儿在雨中冒出的热气的气味。她挟着一小包东西回来，上了车，马车又走了。
“我太奢侈了，亲爱的，”她说，“不过睡衣倒是挺好的。”到了旅馆，我叫凯瑟琳在车子里等，我先进去找经理。房间有的是。我走回马车前，付了车钱，跟凯瑟琳一同走进去。穿着有许多钮子的的小郎捧着那包睡衣。经理点头哈腰，领我们朝电梯走。旅馆里有许多红色长毛绒的帷幕和黄铜装饰品。经理陪我们乘电梯一起上楼。“先生和夫人就在房间里用饭吧？”
“好的。请你把菜单送上来好吗？”我说。
“两位喜欢吃一点特别的吧。吃点野味或来客蛋奶酥？”
电梯每过一层都的答响一声，到了第四层，的答一声停了。“你们有什么野味？”
“有野鸡和山鹬。”
“还是来只山鹬吧，”我说。我们在走廊上走着。地毯已经破烂了。走廊上有许多门。经理停下来，拿钥匙开了一道门，把它推开。“就在这儿。一间可爱的房间。”
有许多钮子的小郎把包裹放在房中央的桌子上。经理拉开窗幔。“外面有雾，”他说。房间里有红色长毛绒帷幕。有许多镜子，两把椅子和一张大床，床上有条缎子床罩。有一道门通向浴室。
“我把菜单送上来，”经理说。他鞠了一躬，走出去了。
我走到窗前往外望望，随后拉拉绳子，那些长毛绒的厚窗幔合拢来了。凯瑟琳坐在床上，望着车花玻璃的枝形吊灯。她已经脱下了帽子，头发在灯光下灿然发亮。她在一面镜子里看到自己的影子，便伸出双手理头发。我在其他三面镜子里看到她。她的样子闷闷不乐。她任凭她的斗篷掉在床上。
“怎么啦，亲爱的？”
“我过去没有过当妓女的感觉，”她说。我走到窗边，拉开窗幔向外望。
想不到会这样。“你并不是妓女。”
“我知道，亲爱的。但是感觉到自己像是妓女，并不是愉快的事。”她的声音又冷淡又单调。
“我们能进的旅馆这家算是最好的了来，”我说。我望着窗外。隔着广场，看得见车站的灯光。街上有马车走过，我还看得见公园里的树木。旅馆的灯光映照在湿漉漉的人行道上。哼，真见鬼，我想，难道我们现在还要争吵拌嘴？
“请上这儿来，”凯瑟琳说。她单调的声气已全消失了。“请你过来吧。
我又是个好姑娘了。”我回头望望床上。她在笑着。
我走过去，挨着她身边坐下，吻她。
“你是我的好姑娘。”
“我当然是你的，”她说。
我们吃了晚饭，感到精神愉快，后来，我们快乐自在，仿佛这房间一下子变成了我们的家。医院里我那间房间曾是我们的家，现在这房间同样是我们的家了。
我们吃饭时，凯瑟琳肩上披着我的军装上衣。我们肚子都很饿，菜又烧得好，我们喝了一瓶卡普里酒和一瓶圣伊斯特菲酒。酒大多是我喝的，但是凯瑟琳也喝了一点，她喝了后人很愉快。我们的晚餐是一只山鹬，配上蛋奶酥、马铃薯和栗子泥，一盆色拉，点心则是意式酒蒸蛋糕。“这是个好房间，”
凯瑟琳说。“是个可爱的房间。我们在米兰的时候，本就该一直住在这儿。”
“房间装饰得很怪。不过还是个好房间。”
“不道德行为是件奇怪的事，”凯瑟琳说。“经营这种行业的人好像趣味并不低。红色长毛绒真好。要的正是这样的装饰。还有这些镜子也讨人喜欢。”
“你是个可爱的姑娘。”
“倘若早晨在这种房间里醒来时，我不晓得会觉得怎么样。但是果真是个好房间。”我又倒了一杯圣伊斯特菲酒。
“我倒盼望我们可以做件真正不道德的事，”凯瑟琳说。“我们所做的每一件事似乎太天真而太单纯了。我不相信我们做了什么坏事。”“你是个了不起的姑娘。”
“我只觉得饿。我饿坏了。”
“你是个又好又单纯的姑娘。关于这一点，除了你以外，从来没有人发觉过。”
“从前我初认识你的时候，我曾经花了一个下午瞎想如果你我一起去加富尔大旅馆，情况会怎么样。”①“你真太放肆了。这里可不是加富尔。是不？”
“不是。他们不肯接待我们的。”
“他们有一天会接待我们的。不过这就是你我不同的地方，亲爱的。我从来什么都不想。”
“你真的一点都没想过吗？”
“有一点，”她说。
“哦，你是个可爱的姑娘。”我又斟了一杯酒。
“我是个很单纯的姑娘，”凯瑟琳说。
“起初我不这么想。我以为你是个疯疯癫癫的姑娘哩。”
“我过去是有点疯。不过我发的疯并不复杂。我没有把你搞糊涂，对吧，亲爱的？”
“酒真了不起，”我说。“酒叫你忘掉一切坏事。”
“酒很可爱，”凯瑟琳说。“但是我父亲却因此得了很厉害的痛风。”
“你父亲还在吗？”
“还在，”凯瑟琳说。“他患痛风。你可以不见他。你父亲还在吗？”
“不在了，”我说。“我有个继父。”
“我会喜欢他的吗？”
“你也可以不见他。”
“我们的生活真美满，”凯瑟琳说。“我现在对于别的都没有兴趣了。我已经很幸福地与你结了婚。”
侍者进来把食具端走。过了一会儿，我们静了下来，听得见外面的雨声。
楼下街上有部汽车的喇叭声。我说：“但我随时都听见在我背后时间之车张着翅膀匆匆逼近。”
“我知道这首诗，”凯瑟琳说。“是马韦尔①写的。但它是讲一个姑娘不情愿同个男人住在一起。”
我觉得头脑很冷静清楚，我还要谈谈正经事。
“你上哪儿去生孩子呢？”
“我还不知道。我尽可能找个好地方。”
“你怎样安排呢？”
“还是尽我的力量吧。不要发愁，亲爱的。说不定战争结束以前我们要生好几个孩子呢。”
①缪伦是瑞士中部的著名旅游胜地，海拔5,415 英尺，山景极佳。
① 资本主义国家的旅馆饭店分有等级，只接待社会上某一等级的人。
“走的时间快到了。”
“我知道。你要它时间到时间就到。”
“不要。”
“那么你就不要发愁，亲爱的。在这以前你还好好的，现在又发愁了。”
“我不愁，你多久写封信？”
“每天写。人家检查你的信件吗？”
“他们的英文不行，让他们看也没有什么关系。”
“我要把信写得很混乱，”凯瑟琳说。
“可别太混乱了。”
“稍微乱一点就行了。”
“恐怕我们得出发了。”
“好的，亲爱的。”
“我舍不得离开我们这好好的家。”
“我也是。”
“不过我们得走了。”
“好的。可惜我们在这儿住家不长久。”
“我们将来会的。”“你回来时，我一定有个好好的家在等着你。”
“也许我就回来。”
“也许你脚上会受一个小小的伤。”
“或是耳垂上一个小伤。”
“不，我希望你的耳朵保持原样。”
“我的脚呢？”
“你的脚早已受过伤了。”
“我们得走了，亲爱的。真的。”
“好。你先走。”
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BOOK TWO CHAPTER 24
We walked down the stairs instead of taking the elevator. The carpet on the stairs was worn. I had paid for the dinner when it came up and the waiter, who had brought it, was sitting on a chair near the door. He jumped up and bowed and I went with him into the side room and paid the bill for the room. The manager had remembered me as a friend and refused payment in advance but when he retired he had remembered to have the waiter stationed at the door so that I should not get out without paying. I suppose that had happened; even with his friends. One had so many friends in a war.
I asked the waiter to get us a carriage and he took Catherine's package that I was carrying and went out with an umbrella. Outside through the window we saw him crossing the street in the rain. We stood in the side room and looked out the window.
"How do you feel, Cat?"
"Sleepy."
"I feel hollow and hungry."
"Have you anything to eat?"
"Yes, in my musette."
I saw the carriage coming. It stopped, the horse's head hanging in the rain, and the waiter stepped out, opened his umbrella, and came toward the hotel. We met him at the door and walked out under the umbrella down the wet walk to the carriage at the curb. Water was running in the gutter.
"There is your package on the seat," the waiter said. He stood with the umbrella until we were in and I had tipped him.
"Many thanks. pleasant journey," he said. The coachman lifted the reins and the horse started. The waiter turned away under the umbrella and went toward the hotel. We drove down the street and turned to the left, then came around to the right in front of the station. There were two carabinieri standing under the light just out of the rain. The light shone on their hats. The rain was clear and transparent against the light from the station. A porter came out from under the shelter of the station, his shoulders up against the rain.
"No," I said. "Thanks. I don't need thee."
He went back under the shelter of the archway. I turned to Catherine. Her face was in the shadow from the hood of the carriage.
"We might as well say good-by."
"I can't go in?"
"No."
"Good-by, Cat."
"Will you tell him the hospital?"
"Yes."
I told the driver the address to drive to. He nodded.
"Good-by," I said. "Take good care of yourself and young Catherine."
"Good-by, darling."
"Good-by," I said. I stepped out into the rain and the carriage started. Catherine leaned out and I saw her face in the light. She smiled and waved. The carriage went up the street, Catherine pointed in toward the archway. I looked, there were only the two carabinieri and the archway. I realized she meant for me to get in out of the rain. I went in and stood and watched the carriage turn the corner. Then I started through the station and down the runway to the train.
The porter was on the platform looking for me. I followed him into the train, crowding past people and along the aisle and in through a door to where the machine-gunner sat in the corner of a full compartment. My rucksack and musettes were above his head on the luggage rack. There were many men standing in the corridor and the men in the compartment all looked at us when we came in. There were not enough places in the train and every one was hostile. The machine-gunner stood up for me to sit down. Some one tapped me on the shoulder. I looked around. It was a very tall gaunt captain of artillery with a red scar along his jaw. He had looked through the glass on the corridor and then come in.
"What do you say?" I asked. I had turned and faced him. He was taller than I and his face was very thin under the shadow of his cap-visor and the scar was new and shiny. Every one in the compartment was looking at me.
"You can't do that," he said. "You can't have a soldier save you a place."
"I have done it."
He swallowed and I saw his Adam's apple go up and then down. The machine-gunner stood in front of the place. Other men looked in through the glass. No one in the compartment said anything.
"You have no right to do that. I was here two hours before you came."
"What do you want?"
"The seat."
"So do I."
I watched his face and could feel the whole compartment against me. I did not blame them. He was in the right. But I wanted the seat. Still no one said anything.
Oh, hell, I thought.
"Sit down, Signor Capitano," I said. The machine-gunner moved out of the way and the tall captain sat down. He looked at me. His face seemed hurt. But he had the seat. "Get my things," I said to the machine-gunner. We went out in the corridor. The train was full and I knew there was no chance of a place. I gave the porter and the machine-gunner ten lire apiece. They went down the corridor and outside on the platform looking in the windows but there were no places.
"Maybe some will get off at Brescia," the porter said.
"More will get on at Brescia," said the machine-gunner. I said good-by to them and we shook hands and they left. They both felt badly. Inside the train we were all standing in the corridor when the train started. I watched the lights of the station and the yards as we went out. It was still raining and soon the windows were wet and you could not see out. Later I slept on the floor of the corridor; first putting my pocket-book with my money and papers in it inside my shirt and trousers so that it was inside the leg of my breeches. I slept all night, waking at Brescia and Verona when more men got on the train, but going back to sleep at once. I had my head on one of the musettes and my arms around the other and I could feel the pack and they could all walk over me if they wouldn't step on me. Men were sleeping on the floor all down the corridor. Others stood holding on to the window rods or leaning against the doors. That train was always crowded.

第二部 第二十四章
我们步行下楼，不乘电梯。楼梯上的地毯已经破烂了。晚餐送上来时我已经付了餐费，但那个端菜的侍者这时却守在大门边的椅子上。他跳起身来，鞠了个躬，我就跟着他走进一间小房间，付清了房钱。旅馆经理还记得我是他的朋友，拒绝我先付钱，不过他走时又记得打发一名侍者守在门口，防我不付帐就溜。我看这种事有过的；连经理的朋友都靠不住。战争时期朋友实在太多了。
我叫侍者去叫一部马车，他从我手里接过凯瑟琳的包裹，撑了一把雨伞走出去。我们从窗口看见他冒雨过街。我们站在那间小房间里望着窗外。
“你觉得怎么样，凯瑟琳？”
“想睡觉。”
“我觉得空虚饥饿。”
“吃的东西你有没有？”
“有，在我的野战背包里。”
我看见马车来了。车子停下，马的头在雨中低垂着，侍者下了车，打开伞，走回旅馆来。我们在大门口迎上他，在雨伞下顺着给打湿的走道走，上了路石边的马车。水在明沟里流着。
“你们的包裹在座位上，”侍者说。他打着雨伞站着，等待我们上了车付了小帐。
“多谢多谢。一路愉快，”他说。赶车的一拉起缰，马就走了。撑着雨伞的侍者也就转身回旅馆。我们沿街赶车，向左转弯，然后再朝右拐，到了火车站前面。灯光下站着两名宪兵，站在雨刚刚打不到的地方。灯光映照着他们的帽子。在车站灯光下，雨丝清晰透明。有名搬行李工人从车站的拱廊下走出来，他拱着肩膀迎着雨。
“不用，”我说。“谢谢，用不着你。”
他又回到拱廊下去躲雨。我转向凯瑟琳。她的脸在车盖的暗影中。“我们不如就在这里告别吧。”
“我不能进去吗？”
“不行。”
“再会，凯特。”
“你把医院的地址告诉他吧？”
“好的。”
我把地址告诉了赶车的。他点点头。
“再会，”我说。“保重自己和小凯瑟琳。”
“再会，亲爱的。”
“再会，”我说。我踏进雨中，车子走了。凯瑟琳探出头来，我看见她在灯光下的脸。她笑一笑，挥挥手。马车顺着街道驶去，凯瑟琳指指拱廊。我顺着她的手望去，只望见那两名宪兵和那拱廊。原来她要我走到里边去躲雨。我走了进去，站着观望马车转弯。随后我穿过车站，走下跑道去找火车。
医院的门房正在月台上等我。我跟着他上车，挤过人群，顺着车厢中的通道走，穿过一道门，看见那机熗手正坐在一个单间的一角，单间里坐满了人。我的背包和野战背包就摆在他头顶上的行李架上。通廊上站着许多人，我们进去时，单间中的人都看着我们。车里的座位不够，人人板起敌意的脸。
机熗手站起来让我坐。有人拍拍我的肩膀。我回头一看。原来是个瘦削而个子很高的炮兵上尉，下巴上有一条红色的伤疤。他刚才从通廊的玻璃窗外朝里看了看，然后才走进来。
“你怎么说？”我问。我转身面对着他。他个子比我高，他的脸在帽舌的暗影下显得很瘦削，伤疤又新又亮。单间里的每个人都在望着我。“你这样不行呀，”他说。“你不可以叫个士兵替你占座位。”“我已经这么做了。”
他咽了一口口水，我看见他的喉结一上一下。机熗手站在座位前。通廊上的其他人从玻璃窗外望进来。单间里的人都没有说什么。“你没有这种权利。我比你早两个钟头就来了。”
“那你要的是什么呢？”
“座位。”
“我也要。”
我注视着他的脸，感觉到单间里的人都反对我。我也不怪他们。他有理。但是我要座位。还是没人作声。
哼，真见鬼，我想道。
“坐下吧，上尉先生，”我说。机熗手一让开身，高个子上尉便坐了下去。他望望我。他的脸好像挨了一下似的。不过他座位总算有了。“把我的东西拿下来。”我对机熗手说。我们走到通廊上。列车满了，我知道再也找不到座位了。我给医院门房和机熗手每人十里拉。他们沿着通廊走去，到了外边月台上，还朝各车窗内张望，但是找不到座位。“到了布里西亚或许有人下车，”门房说。
“到了布里西亚上来的人更多，”机熗手说。我和他们告别，我们握握手，于是他们走了。他们俩都觉得怪不好意思。在车上，大家都站在通廊上，车子开了。列车开出站去，我看着车站的灯光和车场。外边还在下雨，不一会，玻璃窗湿了，外面的景物看不见了。后来我睡在通廊的地板上；睡前先把藏着金钱和证件的皮夹子塞在衬衫和裤子内，使它搁在马裤的裤腿内。我整夜睡觉，到了布里西亚和维罗那，都有更多的人上车，我醒一醒又睡着了。我的头枕着一只野战背包，双手抱着另一只，同时又摸得着我的背包，所以尽管让人家跨过我的身体，只要不踩着我。通廊地板上到处躺着人。有些人站着，扳住了窗上的铁杆子，或者靠在门上。这班车子总是拥挤的。
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BOOK THREE CHAPTER 25
Now in the fall the trees were all bare and the roads were muddy. I rode to Gorizia from Udine on a camion. We passed other camions on the road and I looked at the country. The mulberry trees were bare and the fields were brown. There were wet dead leaves on the road from the rows of bare trees and men were working on the road, tamping stone in the ruts from piles of crushed stone along the side of the road between the trees. We saw the town with a mist over it that cut off the mountains. We crossed the river and I saw that it was running high. It had been raining in the mountains. We came into the town past the factories and then the houses and villas and I saw that many more houses had been hit. On a narrow street we passed a British Red Cross ambulance. The driver wore a cap and his face was thin and very tanned. I did not know him. I got down from the camion in the big square in front of the Town Major's house, the driver handed down my rucksack and I put it on and swung on the two musettes and walked to our villa. It did not feel like a homecoming.
I walked down the damp gravel driveway looking at the villa through the trees. The windows were all shut but the door was open. I went in and found the major sitting at a table in the bare room with maps and typed sheets of paper on the wall.
"Hello," he said. "How are you?" He looked older and drier.
"I'm good," I said. "How is everything?"
"It's all over," he said. "Take off your kit and sit down." I put my pack and the two musettes on the floor and my cap on the pack. I brought the other chair over from the wall and sat down by the desk.
"It's been a bad summer," the major said. "Are you strong now?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever get the decorations?"
"Yes. I got them fine. Thank you very much."
"Let's see them."
I opened my cape so he could see the two ribbons.
"Did you get the boxes with the medals?"
"No. Just the papers."
"The boxes will come later. That takes more time."
"What do you want me to do?"
"The cars are all away. There are six up north at Caporetto. You know Caporetto?"
"Yes," I said. I remembered it as a little white town with a campanile in a valley. It was a clean little town and there was a fine fountain in the square.
"They are working from there. There are many sick now. The fighting is over."
"Where are the others?"
"There are two up in the mountains and four still on the Bainsizza. The other two ambulance sections are in the Carso with the third army."
"What do you wish me to do?"
"You can go and take over the four cars on the Bainsizza if you like. Gino has been up there a long time. You haven't seen it up there, have you?"
"No."
"It was very bad. We lost three cars."
"I heard about it."
"Yes, Rinaldi wrote you."
"Where is Rinaldi?"
"He is here at the hospital. He has had a summer and fall of it."
"I believe it."
"It has been bad," the major said. "You couldn't believe how bad it's been. I've often thought you were lucky to be hit when you were."
"I know I was."
"Next year will be worse," the major said. "perhaps they will attack now. They say they are to attack but I can't believe it. It is too late. You saw the river?"
"Yes. It's high already."
"I don't believe they will attack now that the rains have started. We will have the snow soon. What about your countrymen? Will there be other Americans besides yourself?"
"They are training an army of ten million."
"I hope we get some of them. But the French will hog them all. We'll never get any down here. All right. You stay here to-night and go out to-morrow with the little car and send Gino back. I'll send somebody with you that knows the road. Gino will tell you everything. They are shelling quite a little still but it is all over. You will want to see the Bainsizza."
"I'm glad to see it. I am glad to be back with you again, Signor Maggiore."
He smiled. "You are very good to say so. I am very tired of this war. If I was away I do not believe I would come back."
"Is it so bad?"
"Yes. It is so bad and worse. Go get cleaned up and find your friend Rinaldi."
I went out and carried my bags up the stairs. Rinaldi was not in the room but his things were there and I sat down on the bed and unwrapped my puttees and took the shoe off my right foot. Then I lay back on the bed. I was tired and my right foot hurt. It seemed silly to lie on the bed with one shoe off, so I sat up and unlaced the other shoe and dropped it on the floor, then lay back on the blanket again. The room was stuffy with the window closed but I was too tired to get up and open it. I saw my things were all in one corner of the room. Outside it was getting dark. I lay on the bed and thought about Catherine and waited for Rinaldi. I was going to try not to think about Catherine except at night before I went to sleep. But now I was tired and there was nothing to do, so I lay and thought about her. I was thinking about her when Rinaldi came in. He looked just the same. perhaps he was a little thinner.
"Well, baby," he said. I sat up on the bed. He came over, sat down and put his arm around me. "Good old baby." He whacked me on the back and I held both his arms.
"Old baby," he said. "Let me see your knee."
"I'll have to take off my pants."
"Take off your pants, baby. We're all friends here. I want to see what kind of a job they did." I stood up, took off the breeches and pulled off the knee-brace. Rinaldi sat on the floor and bent the knee gently back and forth. He ran his finger along the scar; put his thumbs together over the kneecap and rocked the knee gently with his fingers.
"Is that all the articulation you have?"
"Yes."
"It's a crime to send you back. They ought to get complete articulation."
"It's a lot better than it was. It was stiff as a board."
Rinaldi bent it more. I watched his hands. He had fine surgeon's hands. I looked at the top of his head, his hair shiny and parted smoothly. He bent the knee too far.
"Ouch!" I said.
"You ought to have more treatment on it with the machines," Rinaldi said.
"It's better than it was."
"I see that, baby. This is something I know more about than you." He stood up and sat down on the bed. "The knee itself is a good job." He was through with the knee. "Tell me all about everything."
"There's nothing to tell," I said. "I've led a quiet life."
"You act like a married man," he said. "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," I said. "What's the matter with you?"
"This war is killing me," Rinaldi said, "I am very depressed by it." He folded his hands over his knee.
"Oh," I said.
"What's the matter? Can't I even have human impulses?"
"No. I can see you've been having a fine time. Tell me."
"All summer and all fall I've operated. I work all the time. I do everybody's work. All the hard ones they leave to me. By God, baby, I am becoming a lovely surgeon."
"That sounds better."
"I never think. No, by God, I don't think; I operate."
"That's right."
"But now, baby, it's all over. I don't operate now and I feel like hell. This is a terrible war, baby. You believe me when I say it. Now you cheer me up. Did you bring the phonograph records?"
"Yes."
They were wrapped in paper in a cardboard box in my rucksack. I was too tired to get them out.
"Don't you feel good yourself, baby?"
"I feel like hell."
"This war is terrible," Rinaldi said. "Come on. We'll both get drunk and be cheerful. Then we'll go get the ashes dragged. Then we'll feel fine."
"I've had the jaundice," I said, "and I can't get drunk."
"Oh, baby, how you've come back to me. You come back serious and with a liver. I tell you this war is a bad thing. Why did we make it anyway."
"We'll have a drink. I don't want to get drunk but we'll have a drink."
Rinaldi went across the room to the washstand and brought back two glasses and a bottle of cognac.
"It's Austrian cognac," he said. "Seven stars. It's all they captured on San Gabriele."
"Were you up there?"
"No. I haven't been anywhere. I've been here all the time operating. Look, baby, this is your old tooth-brushing glass. I kept it all the time to remind me of you."
"To remind you to brush your teeth."
"No. I have my own too. I kept this to remind me of you trying to brush away the Villa Rossa from your teeth in the morning, swearing and eating aspirin and cursing harlots. Every time I see that glass I think of you trying to clean your conscience with a toothbrush." He came over to the bed. "Kiss me once and tell me you're not serious."
"I never kiss you. You're an ape."
"I know, you are the fine good Anglo-Saxon boy. I know. You are the remorse boy, I know. I will wait till I see the Anglo-Saxon brushing away harlotry with a toothbrush."
"put some cognac in the glass."
We touched glasses and drank. Rinaldi laughed at me.
"I will get you drunk and take out your liver and put you in a good Italian liver and make you a man again."
I held the glass for some more cognac. It was dark outside now. Holding the glass of cognac, I went over and opened the window. The rain had stopped falling. It was colder outside and there was a mist in the trees.
"Don't throw the cognac out the window," Rinaldi said. "If you can't drink it give it to me."
"Go something yourself," I said. I was glad to see Rinaldi again. He had spent two years teasing me and I had always liked it. We understood each other very well.
"Are you married?" he asked from the bed. I was standing against the wall by the window.
"Not yet."
"Are you in love?"
"Yes."
"With that English girl?"
"Yes."
"poor baby. Is she good to you?"
"Of course."
"I mean is she good to you practically speaking?"
"Shut up."
"I will. You will see I am a man of extreme delicacy. Does she--?"
"Rinin," I said. "please shut up. If you want to be my friend, shut up."
"I don't want to be your friend, baby. I am your friend."
"Then shut up."
"All right."
I went over to the bed and sat down beside Rinaldi. He was holding his glass and looking at the floor.
"You see how it is, Rinin?"
"Oh, yes. All my life I encounter sacred subjects. But very few with you. I suppose you must have them too." He looked at the floor.
"You haven't any?"
"Not any?"
"No."
"I can say this about your mother and that about your sister?"
"And that about your sister," Rinaldi said swiftly. We both laughed.
"The old superman," I said.
"I am jealous maybe," Rinaldi said.
"No, you're not."
"I don't mean like that. I mean something else. Have you any married friends?"
"Yes," I said.
"I haven't," Rinaldi said. "Not if they love each other."
"Why not?"
"They don't like me."
"Why not?"
"I am the snake. I am the snake of reason."
"You're getting it mixed. The apple was reason."
"No, it was the snake."
He was more cheerful.
"You are better when you don't think so deeply," I said.
"I love you, baby," he said. "You puncture me when I become a great Italian thinker. But I know many things I can't say. I know more than you."
"Yes. You do."
"But you will have a better time. Even with remorse you will have a better time."
"I don't think so."
"Oh, yes. That is true. Already I am only happy when I am working." He looked at the floor again.
"You'll get over that."
"No. I only like two other things; one is bad for my work and the other is over in half an hour or fifteen minutes. Sometimes less."
"Sometimes a good deal less."
"perhaps I have improved, baby. You do not know. But there are only the two things and my work."
"You'll get other things."
"No. We never get anything. We are born with all we have and we never learn. We never get anything new. We all start complete. You should be glad not to be a Latin."
"There's no such thing as a Latin. That is 'Latin' thinking. You are so proud of your defects." Rinaldi looked up and laughed.
"We'll stop, baby. I am tired from thinking so much." He had looked tired when he came in. "It's nearly time to eat. I'm glad you're back. You are my best friend and my war brother."
"When do the war brothers eat?" I asked.
"Right away. We'll drink once more for your liver's sake."
"Like Saint paul."
"You are inaccurate. That was wine and the stomach. Take a little wine for your stomach's sake."
"Whatever you have in the bottle," I said. "For any sake you mention."
"To your girl," Rinaldi said. He held out his glass.
"All right."
"I'll never say a dirty thing about her."
"Don't strain yourself."
He drank off the cognac. "I am pure," he said. "I am like you, baby. I will get an English girl too. As a matter of fact I knew your girl first but she was a little tall for me. A tall girl for a sister," he quoted.
"You have a lovely pure mind," I said.
"Haven't I? That's why they call me Rinaldo purissimo."
"Rinaldo Sporchissimo."
"Come on, baby, we'll go down to eat while my mind is still pure."
I washed, combed my hair and we went down the stairs. Rinaldi was a little drunk. In the room where we ate, the meal was not quite ready.
"I'll go get the bottle," Rinaldi said. He went off up the stairs. I sat at the table and he came back with the bottle and poured us each a half tumbler of cognac.
"Too much," I said and held up the glass and sighted at the lamp on the table.
"Not for an empty stomach. It is a wonderful thing. It burns out the stomach completely. Nothing is worse for you."
"All right."
"Self-destruction day by day," Rinaldi said. "It ruins the stomach and makes the hand shake. Just the thing for a surgeon."
"You recommend it?"
"Heartily. I use no other. Drink it down, baby, and look forward to being sick."
I drank half the glass. In the hall I could hear the orderly calling. "Soup! Soup is ready!"
The major came in, nodded to us and sat down. He seemed very small at table.
"Is this all we are?" he asked. The orderly put the soup bowl down and he ladled out a plate full.
"We are all," Rinaldi said. "Unless the priest comes. If he knew Federico was here he would be here."
"Where is he?" I asked.
"He's at 307," the major said. He was busy with his soup. He wiped his mouth, wiping his upturned gray mustache carefully. "He will come I think. I called them and left word to tell him you were here."
"I miss the noise of the mess," I said.
"Yes, it's quiet," the major said.
"I will be noisy," said Rinaldi.
"Drink some wine, Enrico," said the major. He filled my glass. The spaghetti came in and we were all busy. We were finishing the spaghetti when the priest came in. He was the same as ever, small and brown and compact looking. I stood up and we shook hands. He put his hand on my shoulder.
"I came as soon as I heard," he said.
"Sit down," the major said. "You're late."
"Good-evening, priest," Rinaldi said, using the English word. They had taken that up from the priest-baiting captain, who spoke a little English. "Good-evening, Rinaldo," the priest said. The orderly brought him soup but he said he would start with the spaghetti.
"How are you?" he asked me.
"Fine," I said. "How have things been?"
"Drink some wine, priest," Rinaldi said. "Take a little wine for your stomach's sake. That's Saint paul, you know."
"Yes I know," said the priest politely. Rinaldi filled his glass.
"That Saint paul," said Rinaldi. "He's the one who makes all the trouble." The priest looked at me and smiled. I could see that the baiting did not touch him now.
"That Saint paul," Rinaldi said. "He was a rounder and a chaser and then when he was no longer hot he said it was no good. When he was finished he made the rules for us who are still hot. Isn't it true, Federico?"
The major smiled. We were eating meat stew now.
"I never discuss a Saint after dark," I said. The priest looked up from the stew and smiled at me.
"There he is, gone over with the priest," Rinaldi said. "Where are all the good old priest-baiters? Where is Cavalcanti? Where is Brundi? Where is Cesare? Do I have to bait this priest alone without support?"
"He is a good priest," said the major.
"He is a good priest," said Rinaldi. "But still a priest. I try to make the mess like the old days. I want to make Federico happy. To hell with you, priest!"
I saw the major look at him and notice that he was drunk. His thin face was white. The line of his hair was very black against the white of his forehead.
"It's all right, Rinaldo," said the priest. "It's all right."
"To hell with you," said Rinaldi. "To hell with the whole damn business." He sat back in his chair.
"He's been under a strain and he's tired," the major said to me. He finished his meat and wiped up the gravy with a piece of bread.
"I don't give a damn," Rinaldi said to the table. "To hell with the whole business." He looked defiantly around the table, his eyes flat, his face pale.
"All right," I said. "To hell with the whole damn business."
"No, no," said Rinaldi. "You can't do it. You can't do it. I say you can't do it. You're dry and you're empty and there's nothing else. There's nothing else I tell you. Not a damned thing. I know, when I stop working."
The priest shook his head. The orderly took away the stew dish.
"What are you eating meat for?" Rinaldi turned to the priest. "Don't you know it's Friday?"
"It's Thursday," the priest said.
"It's a lie. It's Friday. You're eating the body of our Lord. It's God-meat. I know. It's dead Austrian. That's what you're eating."
"The white meat is from officers," I said, completing the old joke.
Rinaldi laughed. He filled his glass.
"Don't mind me," he said. "I'm just a little crazy."
"You ought to have a leave," the priest said.
The major shook his head at him.
Rinaldi looked at the priest.
"You think I ought to have a leave?"
The major shook his head at the priest. Rinaldi was looking at the priest.
"Just as you like," the priest said. "Not if you don't want."
"To hell with you," Rinaldi said. "They try to get rid of me. Every night they try to get rid of me. I fight them off. What if I have it. Everybody has it. The whole world's got it. First," he went on, assuming the manner of a lecturer, "it's a little pimple. Then we notice a rash between the shoulders. Then we notice nothing at all. We put our faith in mercury."
"Or salvarsan," the major interrupted quietly.
"A mercurial product," Rinaldi said. He acted very elated now. "I know something worth two of that. Good old priest," he said. "You'll never get it. Baby will get it. It's an industrial accident. It's a simple industrial accident."
The orderly brought in the sweet and coffee. The dessert was a sort of black bread pudding with hard sauce. The lamp was smoking; the black smoke going close up inside the chimney.
"Bring two candles and take away the lamp," the major said. The orderly brought two lighted candles each in a saucer, and took out the lamp blowing it out. Rinaldi was quiet now. He seemed all right. We talked and after the coffee we all went out into the hall.
"You want to talk to the priest. I have to go in the town," Rinaldi said. "Good-night, priest."
"Good-night, Rinaldo," the priest said.
"I'll see you, Fredi," Rinaldi said.
"Yes," I said. "Come in early." He made a face and went out the door. The major was standing with us. "He's very tired and overworked," he said. "He thinks too he has syphilis. I don't believe it but he may have. He is treating himself for it. Good-night. You will leave before daylight, Enrico?"
"Yes."
"Good-by then," he said. "Good luck. peduzzi will wake you and go with you."
"Good-by, Signor Maggiore."
"Good-by. They talk about an Austrian offensive but I don't believe it. I hope not. But anyway it won't be here. Gino will tell you everything. The telephone works well now."
"I'll call regularly."
"please do. Good-night. Don't let Rinaldi drink so much brandy."
"I'll try not to."
"Good-night, priest."
"Good-night, Signor Maggiore."
He went off into his office.

第三部 第二十五章
现在到了秋天，叶落树空，道路泥泞。我从乌迪内乘军用卡车上哥里察。我们沿途遇到旁的军用卡车，我望望乡间景色。桑树已秃，田野一片褐色。路边一排排光秃的树木，路上布满着湿的落叶，有人在修路，正从路边树木间堆积的碎石堆里，搬石头来填补车辙。我们看见哥里察城罩着雾，那雾把高山峻岭也遮断了。我们渡河的时候，我发觉河水在高涨。这是因为高山间下雨的缘故。我们进了城，经过一些工厂，接着便是房屋和别墅，我看到又有许多房屋中了炮弹。我们在一条狭窄的街上驶过一部英国红十字会救护车。那司机戴着帽子，脸孔瘦削，晒得黑黑的。我不认得他。我在大广场上镇长的屋前下了卡车，司机把背包递给我，我背在身上，再加上两只野战背包，就朝我们的别墅走去。没有回到家的感觉。我在潮湿的沙砾车路上走，从树木缝隙间望望别墅。所有的窗子都关闭着，只有大门开着。我走进去，发现少校坐在桌子边，房中孑然无物，墙上挂着地图和打字机打的布告。
“哈罗，”他说。“你好？”他样子苍老了一点，干瘪了一点。“我很好，”我说。“这里情况怎么样？”
“没事了，”他说。“你把行李放下来，坐一坐。”我把背包和两只野战包搁在地板上，我的帽子摆在背包上。我从墙边拉过另外一张椅子来，在他桌边坐下。
“今年夏天很不好，”少校说。“你现在身体健壮了吧？”
“健壮了。”
“你可曾受勋了？”
“受了。我稳稳妥妥收到了。非常感谢你。”
“我们来看一看。”
我拉开披肩，让他看那两条勋表。“你还收到用匣子装的勋章吗？”
“没有。单收到了证书。”
“匣子以后会来的。得费一点时间。”
“关于我的工作，你有什么吩咐？”
“车子都开走了。有六部在北方的卡波雷多。你熟悉卡波雷多吧？”
“熟悉，”我说。我记得那是一座白色的小城镇，在一个山谷里，城里有一座钟楼。倒是个干干净净的小城，广场上有个出色的喷水池。“他们以那地方做根据地。现在有好多病员。战斗倒是结束了。”“其余的车子在哪儿？”
“山里边有两部，四部还在培恩西柴高原。其余两个救护车队在卡索高原，跟第三军在一起。”
“你要我做什么呢？”
“要是你愿意的话，你可以上培恩西柴去接管那四部救护车。吉诺在那儿好久了。你没上那儿去过吧？”
“没有。”
“夏天的战斗很不好。我们损失了三部车子。”
“我听说过了。”
“对啦，雷那蒂给你写过信。”
“雷那蒂在哪儿？”
“他在这儿医院里。他忙了整个夏天和秋天。”
“我相信是忙的。”
“夏天的情况很不好，”少校说。“糟得你不会相信。我常常在想，你那次中弹还算是你运气好。”
“我知道我是幸运的。”
“明年情况还要糟，”少校说。“也许他们现在就要进攻。他们说是要进攻，我倒不相信。现在季节已经太迟了。你来时看见河水吗？”“看见啦。已经涨高了。”
“现在雨季一开始，我不相信他们还会进攻。这儿不久就要下雨了。贵国同胞怎么样？除了你以外，还有旁的美国人要来吗？”
“他们正在训练一支一千万的大军。”
“我希望他们调派一部分到这边来。但是法国人一定会把他们抢个光的。我们一个人都分不到。好吧。你今天夜里在这儿睡，明天开那部小汽车出去，调吉诺回来。我打发个认得路的人陪你一起去。吉诺会把一切告诉你的。他们近来还有一点炮轰，不过战斗已经过去了。你看见培恩西柴高原一定会喜欢的。”
“难得有这机会。少校长官，能够回来再和你在一起，我心里高兴。”他笑了一笑。“亏你说得这么好。我对于这场战争已经很厌倦了。要是我离开这里的话，我是不想回来的。”
“糟到这个地步吗？”
“是这么糟。实在还要更糟。你去洗一洗，找你的朋友雷那蒂去吧。”我走出来，把背包背上楼。雷那蒂不在房间里，他的东西可都在。我便在床上坐下，解开绑腿，脱掉右脚的鞋子。随后我躺倒在床上，我身子疲乏，右脚又疼。不过这样子只脱一只鞋子躺在床上，未免滑稽，于是我坐起来，解开另一只鞋子的鞋带，让鞋子掉在地上，身子又往毯子上一倒。因为关着窗子，房里闷不透气，但是我太疲乏了，不愿意再起来开窗。我看见我的东西堆在一个角落里。外面天渐渐黑了。我躺在床上想凯瑟琳，等着雷那蒂回来。我本想，除了夜里临睡以前，再也不去想她。无奈我现在很累，没事可做，只好躺着想想她。我还在想她的时候，雷那蒂进来了。他还是老样子。也许稍为瘦一点。
“啊，乖乖，”他说。我在床上坐起身。他跑过来，坐下，伸出一臂抱住我。“好乖乖。”他用力拍拍我的背，我抱住他的双臂。
“老乖乖，”他说。“让我看看你的膝头。”
“那我得脱下裤子。”
“那就脱好了，乖乖。我们这里都是熟人。我想看看他们的治疗功夫。”我站起身，解下裤子，拉开护膝。雷那蒂坐在地板上，把我的膝头轻轻来回弯动。他用手指沿着伤疤摸下去；用他双手的拇指一齐按在膝盖骨上，用其余的手指轻轻地摇摇膝盖。
“你的关节联接只到这个地步吗？”
“是的。”
“这样子就送你回来，真罪过。他们应该等到关节联接完全恢复。”“这比以前好多了。本来硬得像木板一样。”
雷那蒂把它再往下弯。我注视着他的双手。他有一双外科医师的好手。
我看他的头顶，头发光亮，头路挑得分明。他把膝头弯得太下了。“嗳哟！”
我说。“你应当多做几次机械治疗，”雷那蒂说。
“比以前是好一点。”
“这我看得出，乖乖。这方面我比你知道得多。”他站起身，坐在床沿上。“膝盖本身的手术很不错。”膝盖他已经看好了。“把一切都告诉我。”
“没有什么可说的，”我说。“我过得安安静静。”
“你这样子可像是个结了婚的人，”他说。“你怎么啦？”“没什么，”
我说。“你怎么啦？”
“这战争可把我折磨死了，”雷那蒂说，“我给它弄得郁郁不乐。”他双手抱着他的膝盖。
“哦，”我说。
“怎么啦？难道我连人的冲动都不应当有吗？”
“不应当有。我看得出你日子过得很好。告诉我。”
“整个夏季和秋季我都在动手术。我时时都在工作。人家的事我都拿来做。他们把难的手术都留给我。天主啊，乖乖，我变成一个很讨人喜爱的外科医生了。”
“这才像话啦。”
“我从来不思想。天主啊，我不思想；我只是开刀。”
“这才对啦。”
“但是现在，乖乖，工作都完了。我现在不开刀了，就闷得慌。这战争太可怕了，乖乖。你相信我，我这是真话。现在你来了，叫我高兴了。唱片带来了没有？”
“带来了。”
唱片用纸包着，装在我背包中一只纸板匣里。我太累了，懒得去拿。“难道你自己不好受吗，乖乖？”
“我感觉糟透了。”
“这战争太可怕了，”雷那蒂说。“来吧。我们俩都来喝个醉，鼓起兴致来。然后找什么来解解闷，人就会好过了。”
“我害过黄疸，”我说。“不可以喝醉。”
“哦，乖乖，你回来竟然变成这样一个人。你一回来就一本正经，还有肝病。我告诉你吧，这战争是件坏东西。我们究竟为什么要战争呢？”“我们喝它一杯吧。我不想喝醉，不过我们可以来一杯。”雷那蒂走到房间的另一头的洗脸架前，拿回来两只玻璃杯和一瓶科涅克白兰地。
“是奥国货，”他说。“七星白兰地。他们在圣迦伯烈山缴获的就是这些酒。”
“你也上那边去过吗？”
“没有。我什么地方都没有去。我一直在这儿动手术。你瞧，乖乖，这就是你从前的漱口杯。我一直保存了下来，使我想起你。”“恐怕还是使你不忘记刷牙的吧。”
“不，我有自己的漱口杯。我保存这杯子，为的是提醒我你怎样在早晨想用牙刷刷掉‘玫瑰别墅’的气味，一面咒骂，一面吞服阿司匹灵，诅咒那些妓女。我每次看到那只杯子，便想起你怎样用牙刷来刷清你的良心。”他走到床边来。“亲我一次，告诉我你并不是真的一本正经。”“我从来不亲你。你是头人猿。”
“我知道，你是个又好又规矩的盎格鲁-撒克逊小伙子。我知道。你是个悔过的小伙子。我等着看你用牙刷把妓女刷掉吧。”
“在杯子里倒点科涅克白兰地。”
我们碰杯喝酒。雷那蒂对我大笑起来。
“我要把你灌醉，挖出你的肝，换上一只意大利人的好肝，叫你再像个男子汉。”
我拿着杯子再要一些白兰地。外边现在天黑了。我手里拿着一杯白兰地，走过去打开窗子。雨已经停了。外边寒冷一点，树木间有雾。“别把白兰地倒到窗外去，”雷那蒂说。“你喝不了就倒给我吧。”“见你的鬼，”我说。又看到雷那蒂，我心中很高兴。他两年来时常笑我逗我，我也无所谓。我们彼此很了解。
“你结了婚吧？”他坐在床上问。我正靠着窗边的墙壁站着。“还没有。”
“你闹恋爱吧？”
“是的。”
“就是那个英国姑娘？”
“是的。”
“可怜的乖乖。她待你好吗？”
“当然好。”
“我的意思是说，她的实际功夫怎么样？”
“闭嘴。”
“我还是要说。你会明白，我是个非常慎重婉转的人。她可——？”
“雷宁，”我说。“请你闭住嘴。要是你想做我朋友的话，就闭嘴吧。”“我倒不想做你的朋友，乖乖。我正是你的朋友啊。”
“那么就闭嘴吧。”
“好的。”
我走到床边去，在他身边坐下。他手里拿着杯子，眼睛望着地板。“你明白吗，雷宁？”
“哦，明白了。我一辈子碰到许多神圣禁忌的事。你身上倒是很少有的。现在大概连你也有神圣不可侵犯的事了。”他望着地板。“你自己一个禁忌都没有吗？”
“没有。”
“一个都没有？”
“没有。”
“我可以随便乱说你母亲或你的姐妹吗？”
“还可以乱说你那位‘姐妹’①啊，”雷那蒂抢着说。我们两人都笑起来。
“还是那老超人的本色，”我说。
“或许是我妒忌吧，”他说。
“不，你不会的。”
“我不是那个意思。我是讲别的。你有没有结了婚的朋友？”“有，”我说。
“我可没有，”雷那蒂说。“除非是人家夫妇彼此不相爱的。”“为什么？”
“他们不喜欢我。”
“为什么？”
① 关于瞎想这一段，详见本书第7 章。加富尔是米兰最高贵的旅馆之一，不招待普通尉级军官。
“我是那条蛇。我是那条理智的蛇。”
“你搞错了。苹果才是理智。①”“不，是那条蛇。”他愉快一点了。
“你的思想不要太深刻，人就好一点，”我说。
“我真爱你，乖乖，”他说。“等我当了意大利的伟大思想家，你再来拆穿我吧。但是我知道许多事情，我还说不出来。我知道得比你多。”
“对。你知道得多。”
“但是你还是可以过比较好的日子的。你就是后悔，也还可以过好一点的日子。”
“不见得吧。”
“哦，是这样的。这是真话。我已经只在工作时才感到快乐。”他又瞅着地板。
“你再过一阵子就不这样想了。”
“不会的。工作以外我只喜欢两件事：一件事对我的工作有妨碍，另一件一做就完，或是半小时，或是一刻钟。有时时间还要少一点。”
“有时还要少得多吧。”
“或许我进步了，乖乖。你哪里知道。但是我现在只有这两件事和我的工作。”
“你还会有别的兴趣的。”
“不。我们从来不会有任何别的。我们生下来有什么就是什么，从来学不会别的。我们从来不吸收任何新的东西。我们一生下来就是这个样子。你不是拉丁人，真应当高兴哩。”
“哪里有什么拉丁人。那只是‘拉丁’式的思想。你对于你的缺点太得意扬扬了，”我说。雷那蒂抬起头来大笑。
“我们就住口吧，乖乖。想得太多，我累了。”他进房间时就看上去很疲乏了。“快到吃饭的时间了。你回来我心中欢喜。你是我最好的朋友和战友。”
“战友们什么时候吃饭？”我问。
“马上就吃。我们再喝一杯，为了你那只肝。”
“像圣保罗那样。”
“你搞错了。那原是讲酒和胃。因为你胃口的关系，可以稍微用点酒。①”
“不管你瓶子里是水是酒，”我说。“也不管你说喝的目的是为什么。”
“敬你的爱人，”雷那蒂说。他擎起杯子来。
“好。”
“关于她，我决不再说一句脏话。”
“不要过于勉强。”
他把科涅克白兰地喝光。“我是纯洁的，”他说。“我像你一样，乖乖。
我也去找个英国姑娘。事实上你那姑娘，我认识她比你还早，只是对我来说，她长得太高了。长得高大的女郎就做个妹妹，”他引用了一个典故。②
①安德鲁·马韦尔（1621—1678）为英国诗人，上面这两行引自他的脍炙人口的爱情诗《致我的腼腆的情人》。
① 姐妹在这里是双关语，西方习俗称护士为姐妹。
②指亚当和夏娃受蛇（撒旦）的引诱，吃了苹果（分别善恶的果子）而失乐园的故事。详见《圣经·创世记》第3 章。这里的理智或可译为智慧。
“你有颗纯洁可爱的心，”我说。
“可不是吗？所以他们叫我最最纯洁的雷那蒂。”
“最最肮脏的雷那蒂。”
“走吧，乖乖，趁我心思还纯洁的时候，我们就下去吃饭吧。”
我洗了脸，梳了头，同他一起下楼。雷那蒂有点醉了。到我们吃饭的屋子里时，饭还没烧好。
“我去把酒瓶拿来，”雷那蒂说。他上楼去了。我坐在饭桌边，他拿了酒瓶回来，给我们每人倒了半杯科涅克白兰地。
“太多了，”我说，拿起玻璃杯，对着饭桌上的灯照照。
“空肚子不算多。酒是件奇妙的东西。会把你的胃全部烧坏。这对你再有害没有了。”
“对啊。”
“一天天自我毁灭，”雷那蒂说。“酒伤害你的胃，叫你的手颤抖。这对外科医生再好也没有了。”
“你推荐这方子。”
“全心全意。我只用这方子。喝下去，乖乖，等着生病好啦。”
我喝了半杯。我听得见勤务兵在走廊上喊道：“汤！汤好了！”
少校走进来，向我们点点头，坐下。坐在饭桌边，他显得个子很小。
“只有我们这几个人吗？”他问。勤务兵把盛汤的大碗放下，他就舀了一盘子汤。
“人是到齐了，”雷那蒂说。“除非教士也来。他要是知道费德里科在这儿的话，一定会来。”
“他现在在哪儿？”
“在307 阵地，”少校说。他正忙着喝汤。他揩揩嘴，小心地揩揩他那上翘的灰色小胡子。“他大概会来的吧。我打过电话，叫人家传话给他，说你回来了。”
“饭堂可惜不像从前那么热闹了，”我说。
“是的，现在安静了，”少校说。
“我来闹闹吧，”雷那蒂说。
“喝点酒吧，恩里科，”少校说。他给我的杯子倒满了酒。意大利实心面端进来了，大家都忙着吃。大家快吃完面时，教士才来。他还是那老样子，身材瘦小，皮肤黄褐色，看上去很结实。我站起身来，我们握手。他把手搭在我肩膀上。
“我一听说你来了就赶回来，”他说。
“坐下吧，”少校说。“你迟到了。”
“晚安，教士，”雷那蒂说，教士这两字是用英语说的。从前有个专门逗教士的上尉，会讲一点英语，他们就学他的。“晚安，雷那蒂，”教士说。
勤务兵端汤给他，但是他说，就先吃实心面好了。
“你好？”他问我。
“好，”我说。“近来情况怎么样？”
“喝一点酒吧，教士，”雷那蒂说。“为了你的胃口，稍微用一点酒。
这是圣保罗的教导，你知道。”
“是的，我知道，”教士有礼貌地说。雷那蒂倒了一杯酒。
“圣保罗那家伙，”雷那蒂说。“弄出这一切麻烦来的都是他。”教士望望我，笑笑。我看得出这样逗他，现在他也无所谓了。
“圣保罗那家伙，”雷那蒂说。“他本是个一再犯罪的坏蛋，是个教会的人，后来没有劲头了，就说这也不行那也不行。①他搞完了才制定了许多清规戒律，我们这些劲头正足的人。这话可不是真的，费德里科？”
少校笑笑。我们正在吃炖肉。
“天黑以后，我照例不谈论圣徒，”我说。吃炖肉的教士抬起头来对我笑笑。
“他也跑到教士那边去了，”雷那蒂说。“从前那些专门逗教士的能手哪儿去了？卡伐堪蒂呢？勃隆恩蒂呢？西撒莱呢？难道全没帮手，非叫我一个人单独来逗他？”
“他是个好教士，”少校说。
“他是个好教士，”雷那蒂说。“但是教士还是教士。我想恢复以前饭堂的热闹。我要费德里科心里高兴。见鬼去吧，教士！”
我注意到少校在盯着他，发觉他已醉了。他的瘦脸很苍白。衬着他那苍白的前额，他的头发显得黑黑的。
“没关系，雷那蒂，”教士说。“没关系。”
“你见鬼去，”雷那蒂说。“这该死的一切都见鬼去。”他往后靠在椅背上。
“他工作过分紧张，人太累了，”少校对我说。他吃完了肉，用一片面包蘸着肉汁吃。
“该死，我才无所谓哪，”雷那蒂对着桌边的众人说。“这一切都见鬼去。”他狠狠地瞪着全桌上的人，眼神呆滞，脸色苍白。
“好的，”我说。”这该死的一切都见鬼去。”
“不，不，”雷那蒂说。“你不行。你不行。我说你不行。你因为又气闷又空虚，才会这样子，没有旁的意思。我告诉你，没有旁的意思。一点都没有。我知道，我一停止工作就会这样子。”
教士摇摇头。勤务兵把盛肉的大盘子端走。
“你为什么吃肉？”雷那蒂转对教士说。“你岂不知道今天是星期五吗？①”
“今天是礼拜四，”教士说。
“你撒谎。今天是星期五。你在吃我们的主的身体。那是天主的肉。我知道。那是战死的奥国鬼子的肉。你在吃的就是这东西。”“白肉①是军官的肉，”我说，凑着把那老笑话讲完。雷那蒂大笑。他倒了一杯酒。
“你们不必认真，”他说。“我只是有点儿疯罢了。”
“你应该休假一下，”教士说。
少校连忙对着教士摇头。雷那蒂瞅着教士。
“照你想，我应该休假一下？”
少校又对教士摇头。雷那蒂眼睁睁地望着教士。
① 保罗是早期教最重要的使徒之一，曾到犹太国以外的诸外邦去传教。这里引的话见《圣经·提摩太前书》第5 章第23 节：“因你胃口不清，屡次患病，再不要照常喝水，可以稍微用点酒。”
① 《圣经·创世记》第12 章第10 到20 节写亚伯拉罕因饥荒避难埃及，怕埃及人垂涎他的美貌妻子撒莱，因而杀他，便谎称她是他的妹妹。如果他的确是引用这个典故，那么“高大”或可译为“硕美”。
① 关于保罗皈依教的事迹，详见《圣经·使徒行传》第9 章第1 到9 节。
“随你的便，”教士说。“你不喜欢，不休假也行。”
“你见鬼去，”雷那蒂说。“他们想撵走我。每天夜晚他们都想撵走我。
我把他们打退了。我就是得了那个，又算什么。人人都得的。全世界都得了。起初，”他改用演讲者的口气说，“是一颗小小的脓疱。随后我们注意到两个肩膀间发出皮疹。这以后症状都没有了。我们只相信用水银来治疗。”“或者用洒尔佛散①，”少校安静地补上一句。“一种汞制剂，”雷那蒂说。现在他的谈吐趾高气扬。“我还知道一种药，比那个要好上两倍。好教士啊，”他说。“你永远不会染上的。乖乖都会染上。这病是一种工业事故。只是一种工业事故罢了。”
勤务兵把甜点和咖啡端了进来。甜点是一种黑面包布丁，上边浇了一层厚厚的甜酱。油灯在冒烟；黑烟在灯罩内差一点冒到顶。
“拿两支蜡烛来，把灯端走，”少校说。勤务兵点了两支蜡烛放在两个碟子上端进来，把灯拿出去吹灭了。雷那蒂现在安静下来了。看他样子还好。我们谈着话，喝了咖啡后，大家走到门廊上。
“你要跟教士谈话。我得进城去，”雷那蒂说。“晚安，教士。”“晚安，雷那蒂，”教士说。
“回头见，弗雷迪，”雷那蒂说。
“回头见，”我说。“早点回来。”他做了个鬼脸，走出门去了。少校和我们还一起站着。“他很疲乏，工作又过度，”他说。“他自以为也得了梅毒。我不相信，但是可能他果真得了也不一定。他现在自己在治。晚安。你天亮以前就走吧，恩里科？”
“是的。”
“那么再会啦，”他说。“祝你运气好。柏图齐会来喊醒你，陪你一起去的。”
“再会，少校长官。”
“再会。他们说奥军要发动进攻，我可不相信。我希望不至于是事实吧。不管来攻不来攻，不会打这儿攻进来的。吉诺会告诉你一切的。电话现在通了。”
“我会经常打电话来。”
“就请你经常打来吧。晚安。别让雷那蒂喝那么多白兰地。”“我想法子不让他喝那么多。”
“晚安，教士。”
“晚安，少校长官。”
他到他的办公室去了。
① 天主教徒星期五守斋。
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举报 只看该作者 26楼  发表于: 2013-10-27 0
BOOK THREE CHAPTER 26
I went to the door and looked out. It had stopped raining but there was a mist.
"Should we go upstairs?" I asked the priest.
"I can only stay a little while."
"Come on up."
We climbed the stairs and went into my room. I lay down on Rinaldi's bed. The priest sat on my cot that the orderly had set up. It was dark in the room.
"Well," he said, "how are you really?"
"I'm all right. I'm tired to-night."
"I'm tired too, but from no cause."
"What about the war?"
"I think it will be over soon. I don't know why, but I feel it."
"How do you feel it?"
"You know how your major is? Gentle? Many people are like that now."
"I feel that way myself," I said.
"It has been a terrible summer," said the priest. He was surer of himself now than when I had gone away. "You cannot believe how it has been. Except that you have been there and you know how it can be. Many people have realized the war this summer. Officers whom I thought could never realize it realize it now."
"What will happen?" Istroked the blanket with my hand.
"I do not know but I do not think it can go on much longer."
"What will happen?"
"They will stop fighting."
"Who?"
"Both sides."
"I hope so," I said.
"You don't believe it?"
"I don't believe both sides will stop fighting at once."
"I suppose not. It is too much to expect. But when I see the changes in men I do not think it can go on."
"Who won the fighting this summer?"
"No one."
"The Austrians won," I said. "They kept them from taking San Gabriele. They've won. They won't stop fighting."
"If they feel as we feel they may stop. They have gone through the same thing."
"No one ever stopped when they were winning."
"You discourage me."
"I can only say what I think."
"Then you think it will go on and on? Nothing will ever happen?"
"I don't know. I only think the Austrians will not stop when they have won a victory. It is in defeat that we become Christian."
"The Austrians are Christians--except for the Bosnians."
"I don't mean technically Christian. I mean like Our Lord."
He said nothing.
"We are all gentler now because we are beaten. How would Our Lord have been if peter had rescued him in the Garden?"
"He would have been just the same."
"I don't think so," I said.
"You discourage me," he said. "I believe and I pray that something will happen. I have felt it very close."
"Something may happen," I said. "But it will happen only to us. If they felt the way we do, it would be all right. But they have beaten us. They feel another way."
"Many of the soldiers have always felt this way. It is not because they were beaten."
"They were beaten to start with. They were beaten when they took them from their farms and put them in the army. That is why the peasant has wisdom, because he is defeated from the start. put him in power and see how wise he is."
He did not say anything. He was thinking.
"Now I am depressed myself," I said. "That's why I never think about these things. I never think and yet when I begin to talk I say the things I have found out in my mind without thinking."
"I had hoped for something."
"Defeat?"
"No. Something more."
"There isn't anything more. Except victory. It may be worse."
"I hoped for a long time for victory."
"Me too."
"Now I don't know."
"It has to be one or the other."
"I don't believe in victory any more."
"I don't. But I don't believe in defeat. Though it may be better."
"What do you believe in?"
"In sleep," I said. He stood up.
"I am very sorry to have stayed so long. But I like so to talk with you."
"It is very nice to talk again. I said that about sleeping, meaning nothing."
We stood up and shook hands in the dark.
"I sleep at 307 now," he said.
"I go out on post early to-morrow."
"I'll see you when you come hack."
"We'll have a walk and talk together." I walked with him to the door.
"Don't go down," he said. "It is very nice that you are back. Though not so nice for you." He put his hand on my shoulder.
"It's all right for me," I said. "Good-night."
"Good-night. Ciaou!"
"Ciaou!" I said. I was deadly sleepy.

第三部 第二十六章
我走到门口朝外望望。雨停了，可是还有雾。
“我们上楼吧？”我问那教士。
“我只能呆一会儿。”
“还是上去吧。”
我们上楼，走进我的房间。我躺在雷那蒂床上。教士坐在勤务兵给我架好的行军床上。房间里黑黑的。
“嗯，”他说，“你近况到底怎么样？”
“我还好。只是我今晚人累了。”
“我也累，可是没有原因。”
“战事怎么样？”
“依我看，不久就要结束。我也说不出个道理来，只是有这种感觉。”
“你怎样感觉到的？”
“你不看见你们那位少校吗？变得温和了吧？现在有许多人都变了。”
“这我也感觉到了，”我说。
“今年的夏天真可怕，”教士说。他现在比我从前离开他时更有自信心了。“说给你听，你也不会相信。除非你身历其境，才会明白。到了今年夏天，许多人才明白什么是战争。有些军官，我本以为永远不会明白的，现在也觉悟了。”
“将要发生什么呢？”我用手抚摸着毯子。
“我不知道，但是照我想，不可能再拖下去了。”
“将要发生什么呢？”
“他们会停止战斗。”
“谁？”
“双方。”
“我倒盼望是这样子，”我说。
“你不相信？”
“我不相信双方会立刻都停战。”
“那是不会的。那是希望得过分了。但是我看见人们在改变，就认为战事拖不久了。”
“今年夏天谁打了胜仗？”
“谁也没打胜。”
“奥军打胜了，”我说。“他们守住了圣迦伯烈山。他们打了胜仗。他们不会停战的。”
“要是他们的感觉和我们一样，他们或许会停战的。他们和我们有同样的经历。”
“打胜仗的人是从来不肯停手的。”
“你叫我泄气。”
“我只能心里想什么就说什么。”
“那么你以为战争会一直拖下去？不会发生一点变化？”
“我不知道。我只是想，倘若奥军已经打了一场胜仗，他们一定不肯住手。我们要吃了败仗才会变成徒。”
“奥国人也是徒——除了波斯尼亚人不算①。”“我的意思不是一般宗教的分类。我是说像我们的主耶稣那么温柔和平。”
他不说什么。
“我们吃了败仗，现在人都变得温和一点了。我们的主怎么样呢，要是彼得在花园里搭救了他呢？”
“他一定还是现在这样子。”②“那也说不定，”我说。
“你叫我泄气，”他说。“我相信准会起变化的，并且为这做了祷告。
我本来感到就快起变化了。”
“很可能有什么事会发生，”我说。“不过要发生，只能发生在我们这一边。倘若他们和我们有同感，那就好了。但是他们已经打败了我们。他们自然另有一种想法。”
“许多士兵一向就有这种想法。这倒不是因为他们吃了败仗。”“士兵们一上来就给打败了。人家把他们从农场上征来当兵，这一下他们就吃了败仗。农民有智慧，原因就在于农民一开头就吃了败仗。你叫农民掌握政权看看，瞧他是不是富有智慧。”
他不说什么。他正在想。
“现在弄得我也闷得要命，”我说。“我从来不愿意想起这些事，原因就在这里。我从来不思想，可是一谈起来，就会把心中的感想不假思索地脱口说出来。”
“我本来在盼着会发生什么事。”
“吃败仗？”
“不是。比较好一点的。”
“没有什么好一点的。除非是胜利。胜利也许会更糟。”
“我盼望胜利已经好久啦。”
“我也是。”
“现在就难说了。”
“非胜即败。”
“我再也不相信什么胜利了。”
“我也不相信。但是我对战败也不相信。虽则战败可能会好一些。”“那你相信什么呢？”“睡觉，”我说。他站起身来。
“很对不起，我在这儿呆得太久了。可我很欢喜跟你谈谈。”“能够再聚在一起谈谈，是很愉快的。我方才说睡觉，没有什么意思。”我们站起来，在黑暗中握握手。
“我现在睡在307 阵地，”他说。
“我明儿一早就上救护站。”
“等你回来再来看你。”
“等我回来，我们一同出去散散步，谈谈。”我陪他走向门口。“别下来，”他说。“你回来真好。虽然对你本人不见得怎么好。”他把手搭在我的肩上。
“我回来也无所谓，”我说。“晚安。”
“晚安。再见！”
① 白肉指鸡等禽类的背部和胸膛等处的肉，煮熟后颜色较淡。
② 俗名六○六，为当时治梅毒的特效药。
“再见！”我说。我瞌睡得要命了。
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举报 只看该作者 27楼  发表于: 2013-10-27 0
BOOK THREE CHAPTER 27
I woke when Rinaldi came in but he did not talk and I went back to sleep again. In the morning I was dressed and gone before it was light. Rinaldi did not wake when I left.
I had not seen the Bainsizza before and it was strange to go up the slope where the Austrians had been, beyond the place on the river where I had been wounded. There was a steep new road and many trucks. Beyond, the road flattened out and I saw woods and steep hills in the mist. There were woods that had been taken quickly and not smashed. Then beyond where the road was not protected by the hills it was screened by matting on the sides and over the top. The road ended in a wrecked village. The lines were up beyond. There was much artillery around. The houses were badly smashed but things were very well organized and there were signboards everywhere. We found Gino and he got us some coffee and later I went with him and met various people and saw the posts. Gino said the British cars were working further down the Bainsizza at Ravne. He had great admiration for the British. There was still a certain amount of shelling, he said, but not many wounded. There would be many sick now the rains had started. The Austrians were supposed to attack but he did not believe it. We were supposed to attack too, but they had not brought up any new troops so he thought that was off too. Food was scarce and he would be glad to get a full meal in Gorizia. What kind of supper had I had? I told him and he said that would be wonderful. He was especially impressed by the dolce. I did not describe it in detail, only said it was a dolce, and I think he believed it was something more elaborate than bread pudding.
Did I know where he was going to go? I said I didn't but that some of the other cars were at Caporetto. He hoped he would go up that way. It was a nice little place and he liked the high mountain hauling up beyond. He was a nice boy and every one seemed to like him. He said where it really had been hell was at San Gabriele and the attack beyond Lom that had gone bad. He said the Austrians had a great amount of artillery in the woods along Ternova ridge beyond and above us, and shelled the roads badly at night. There was a battery of naval guns that had gotten on his nerves. I would recognize them because of their flat trajectory. You heard the report and then the shriek commenced almost instantly. They usually fired two guns at once, one right after the other, and the fragments from the burst were enormous. He showed me one, a smoothly jagged piece of metal over a foot long. It looked like babbitting metal.
"I don't suppose they are so effective," Gino said. "But they scare me. They all sound as though they came directly for you. There is the boom, then instantly the shriek and burst. What's the use of not being wounded if they scare you to death?"
He said there were Croats in the lines opposite us now and some Magyars. Our troops were still in the attacking positions. There was no wire to speak of and no place to fall back to if there should be an Austrian attack. There were fine positions for defense along the low mountains that came up out of the plateau but nothing had been done about organizing them for defense. What did I think about the Bainsizza anyway?
I had expected it to be flatter, more like a plateau. I had not realized it was so broken up.
"Alto piano," Gino said, "but no piano."
We went back to the cellar of the house where he lived. I said I thought a ridge that flattened out on top and had a little depth would be easier and more practical to hold than a succession of small mountains. It was no harder to attack up a mountain than on the level, I argued. "That depends on the mountains," he said. "Look at San Gabriele."
"Yes," I said, "but where they had trouble was at the top where it was flat. They got up to the top easy enough."
"Not so easy," he said.
"Yes," I said, "but that was a special case because it was a fortress rather than a mountain, anyway. The Austrians had been fortifying it for years." I meant tactically speaking in a war where there was some movement a succession of mountains were nothing to hold as a line because it was too easy to turn them. You should have possible mobility and a mountain is not very mobile. Also, people always over-shoot downhill. If the flank were turned, the best men would be left on the highest mountains. I did not believe in a war in mountains. I had thought about it a lot, I said. You pinched off one mountain and they pinched off another but when something really started every one had to get down off the mountains.
What were you going to do if you had a mountain frontier? he asked.
I had not worked that out yet, I said, and we both laughed. "But," I said, "in the old days the Austrians were always whipped in the quadrilateral around Verona. They let them come down onto the plain and whipped them there."
"Yes," said Gino. "But those were Frenchmen and you can work out military problems clearly when you are fighting in somebody else's country."
"Yes," I agreed, "when it is your own country you cannot use it so scientifically."
"The Russians did, to trap Napoleon."
"Yes, but they had plenty of country. If you tried to retreat to trap Napoleon in Italy you would find yourself in Brindisi."
"A terrible place," said Gino. "Have you ever been there?"
"Not to stay."
"I am a patriot," Gino said. "But I cannot love Brindisi or Taranto."
"Do you love the Bainsizza?" I asked.
"The soil is sacred," he said. "But I wish it grew more potatoes. You know when we came here we found fields of potatoes the Austrians had planted."
"Has the food really been short?"
"I myself have never had enough to eat but I am a big eater and I have not starved. The mess is average. The regiments in the line get pretty good food but those in support don't get so much. Something is wrong somewhere. There should be plenty of food."
"The dogfish are selling it somewhere else."
"Yes, they give the battalions in the front line as much as they can but the ones in back are very short. They have eaten all the Austrians' potatoes and chestnuts from the woods. They ought to feed them better. We are big eaters. I am sure there is plenty of food. It is very bad for the soldiers to be short of food. Have you ever noticed the difference it makes in the way you think?"
"Yes," I said. "It can't win a war but it can lose one."
"We won't talk about losing. There is enough talk about losing. What has been done this summer cannot have been done in vain."
I did not say anything. I was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice and the expression in vain. We had heard them, sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot, so that only the shouted words came through, and had read them, on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations, now for a long time, and I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it. There were many words that you could not stand to hear and finally only the names of places had dignity. Certain numbers were the same way and certain dates and these with the names of the places were all you could say and have them mean anything. Abstract words such as glory, honor, courage, or hallow were obscene beside the concrete names of villages, the numbers of roads, the names of rivers, the numbers of regiments and the dates. Gino was a patriot, so he said things that separated us sometimes, but he was also a fine boy and I understood his being a patriot. He was born one. He left with peduzzi in the car to go back to Gorizia.
It stormed all that day. The wind drove down the rain and everywhere there was standing water and mud. The plaster of the broken houses was gray and wet. Late in the afternoon the rain stopped and from out number two post I saw the bare wet autumn country with clouds over the tops of the hills and the straw screening over the roads wet and dripping. The sun came out once before it went down and shone on the bare woods beyond the ridge. There were many Austrian guns in the woods on that ridge but only a few fired. I watched the sudden round puffs of shrapnel smoke in the sky above a broken farmhouse near where the line was; soft puffs with a yellow white flash in the centre. You saw the flash, then heard the crack, then saw the smoke ball distort and thin in the wind. There were many iron shrapnel balls in the rubble of the houses and on the road beside the broken house where the post was, but they did not shell near the post that afternoon. We loaded two cars and drove down the road that was screened with wet mats and the last of the sun came through in the breaks between the strips of mattings. Before we were out on the clear road behind the hill the sun was down. We went on down the clear road and as it turned a corner into the open and went into the square arched tunnel of matting the rain started again.
The wind rose in the night and at three o'clock in the morning with the rain coming in sheets there was a bombardment and the Croatians came over across the mountain meadows and through patches of woods and into the front line. They fought in the dark in the rain and a counter-attack of scared men from the second line drove them back. There was much shelling and many rockets in the rain and machine-gun and rifle fire all along the line. They did not come again and it was quieter and between the gusts of wind and rain we could hear the sound of a great bombardment far to the north.
The wounded were coming into the post, some were carried on stretchers, some walking and some were brought on the backs of men that came across the field. They were wet to the skin and all were scared. We filled two cars with stretcher cases as they came up from the cellar of the post and as I shut the door of the second car and fastened it I felt the rain on my face turn to snow. The flakes were coming heavy and fast in the rain.
When daylight came the storm was still blowing but the snow had stopped. It had melted as it fell on the wet ground and now it was raining again. There was another attack just after daylight but it was unsuccessful. We expected an attack all day but it did not come until the sun was going down. The bombardment started to the south below the long wooded ridge where the Austrian guns were concentrated. We expected a bombardment but it did not come. It was getting dark. Guns were firing from the field behind the village and the shells, going away, had a comfortable sound.
We heard that the attack to the south had been unsuccessful. They did not attack that night but we heard that they had broken through to the north. In the night word came that we were to prepare to retreat. The captain at the post told me this. He had it from the Brigade. A little while later he came from the telephone and said it was a lie. The Brigade had received orders that the line of the Bainsizza should be held no matter what happened. I asked about the break through and he said that he had heard at the Brigade that the Austrians had broken through the twenty-seventh army corps up toward Caporetto. There had been a great battle in the north all day.
"If those bastards let them through we are cooked," he said.
"It's Germans that are attacking," one of the medical officers said. The word Germans was something to be frightened of. We did not want to have anything to do with the Germans.
"There are fifteen divisions of Germans," the medical officer said. "They have broken through and we will be cut off."
"At the Brigade, they say this line is to be held. They say they have not broken through badly and that we will hold a line across the mountains from Monte Maggiore."
"Where do they hear this?"
"From the Division."
"The word that we were to retreat came from the Division."
"We work under the Army Corps," I said. "But here I work under you. Naturally when you tell me to go I will go. But get the orders straight."
"The orders are that we stay here. You clear the wounded from here to the clearing station."
"Sometimes we clear from the clearing station to the field hospitals too," I said. "Tell me, I have never seen a retreat--if there is a retreat how are all the wounded evacuated?"
"They are not. They take as many as they can and leave the rest."
"What will I take in the cars?"
"Hospital equipment."
"All right," I said.
The next night the retreat started. We heard that Germans and Austrians had broken through in the north and were coming down the mountain valleys toward Cividale and Udine. The retreat was orderly, wet and sullen. In the night, going slowly along the crowded roads we passed troops marching under the rain, guns, horses pulling wagons, mules, motor trucks, all moving away from the front. There was no more disorder than in an advance.
That night we helped empty the field hospitals that had been set up in the least ruined villages of the plateau, taking the wounded down to plava on the river-bed: and the next day hauled all day in the rain to evacuate the hospitals and clearing station at plava. It rained steadily and the army of the Bainsizza moved down off the plateau in the October rain and across the river where the great victories had commenced in the spring of that year. We came into Gorizia in the middle of the next day. The rain had stopped and the town was nearly empty. As we came up the street they were loading the girls from the soldiers' whorehouse into a truck. There were seven girls and they had on their hats and coats and carried small suitcases. Two of them were crying. Of the others one smiled at us and put out her tongue and fluttered it up and down. She had thick full lips and black eyes.
I stopped the car and went over and spoke to the matron. The girls from the officers' house had left early that morning, she said. Where were they going? To Conegliano, she said. The truck started. The girl with thick lips put out her tongue again at us. The matron waved. The two girls kept on crying. The others looked interestedly out at the town. I got back in the car.
"We ought to go with them," Bonello said. "That would be a good trip."
"We'll have a good trip," I said.
"We'll have a hell of a trip."
"That's what I mean," I said. We came up the drive to the villa.
"I'd like to be there when some of those tough babies climb in and try and hop them."
"You think they will?"
"Sure. Everybody in the Second Army knows that matron."
We were outside the villa.
"They call her the Mother Superior," Bonello said. "The girls are new but everybody knows her. They must have brought them up just before the retreat."
"They'll have a time."
"I'll say they'll have a time. I'd like to have a crack at them for nothing. They charge too much at that house anyway. The government gyps us."
"Take the car out and have the mechanics go over it," I said. "Change the oil and check the differential. Fill it up and then get some sleep."
"Yes, Signor Tenente."
The villa was empty. Rinaldi was gone with the hospital. The major was gone taking hospital personnel in the staff car. There was a note on the window for me to fill the cars with the material piled in the hall and to proceed to pordenone. The mechanics were gone already. I went out back to the garage. The other two cars came in while I was there and their drivers got down. It was starting to rain again.
"I'm so--sleepy I went to sleep three times coming here from plava," piani said. "What are we going to do, Tenente?"
"We'll change the oil, grease them, fill them up, then take them around in front and load up the junk they've left."
"Then do we start?"
"No, we'll sleep for three hours."
"Christ I'm glad to sleep," Bonello said. "I couldn't keep awake driving."
"How's your car, Aymo?" I asked.
"It's all right."
"Get me a monkey suit and I'll help you with the oil."
"Don't you do that, Tenente," Aymo said. "Ifs nothing to do. You go and pack your things."
"My things are all packed," I said. "I'll go and carry out the stuff that they left for us. Bring the cars around as soon as they're ready."
They brought the cars around to the front of the villa and we loaded them with the hospital equipment which was piled in the hallway. When it was all in, the three cars stood in line down the driveway under the trees in the rain. We went inside.
"Make a fire in the kitchen and dry your things," I said.
"I don't care about dry clothes," piani said. "I want to sleep."
"I'm going to sleep on the major's bed," Bonello said. "I'm going to sleep where the old man corks off."
"I don't care where I sleep," piani said.
"There are two beds in here." I opened the door.
"I never knew what was in that room," Bonello said.
"That was old fish-face's room," piani said.
"You two sleep in there," I said. "I'll wake you."
"The Austrians will wake us if you sleep too long, Tenente," Bonello said.
"I won't oversleep," I said. "Where's Aymo?"
"He went out in the kitchen."
"Get to sleep," I said.
"I'll sleep," piani said. "I've been asleep sitting up all day. The whole top of my head kept coming down over my eyes."
"Take your boots off," Bonello said. "That's old fish-face's bed."
"Fish-face is nothing to me." piani lay on the bed, his muddy boots straight out, his head on his arm. I went out to the kitchen. Aymo had a fire in the stove and a kettle of water on.
"I thought I'd start some pasta asciutta," he said. "We'll be hungry when we wake up."
"Aren't you sleepy, Bartolomeo?"
"Not so sleepy. When the water boils I'll leave it. The fire will go down."
"You'd better get some sleep," I said. "We can eat cheese and monkey meat."
"This is better," he said. "Something hot will be good for those two anarchists. You go to sleep, Tenente."
"There's a bed in the major's room."
"You sleep there."
"No, I'm going up to my old room. Do you want a drink, Bartolomeo?"
"When we go, Tenente. Now it wouldn't do me any good."
"If you wake in three hours and I haven't called you, wake me, will you?"
"I haven't any watch, Tenente."
"There's a clock on the wall in the major's room."
"All right."
I went out then through the dining-room and the hall and up the marble stairs to the room where I had lived with Rinaldi. It was raining outside. I went to the window and looked out. It was getting dark and I saw the three cars standing in line under the trees. The trees were dripping in the rain. It was cold and the drops hung to the branches. I went back to Rinaldi's bed and lay down and let sleep take me.
We ate in the kitchen before we started. Aymo had a basin of spaghetti with onions and tinned meat chopped up in it. We sat around the table and drank two bottles of the wine that had been left in the cellar of the villa. It was dark outside and still raining. piani sat at the table very sleepy.
"I like a retreat better than an advance," Bonello said. "On a retreat we drink barbera."
"We drink it now. To-morrow maybe we drink rainwater,"
Aymo said.
"To-morrow we'll be in Udine. We'll drink champagne. That's where the slackers live. Wake up, piani! We'll drink champagne tomorrow in Udine!"
"I'm awake," piani said. He filled his plate with the spaghetti and meat. "Couldn't you find tomato sauce, Barto?"
"There wasn't any," Aymo said.
"We'll drink champagne in Udine," Bonello said. He filled his glass with the clear red barbera.
"We may drink--before Udine," piani said.
"Have you eaten enough, Tenente?" Aymo asked.
"I've got plenty. Give me the bottle, Bartolomeo."
"I have a bottle apiece to take in the cars," Aymo said.
"Did you sleep at all?"
"I don't need much sleep. I slept a little."
"To-morrow we'll sleep in the king's bed," Bonello said. He was feeling very good.
"To-morrow maybe we'll sleep in--," piani said.
"I'll sleep with the queen," Bonello said. He looked to see how I took the joke.
"You'll sleep with--," piani said sleepily.
"That's treason, Tenente," Bonello said. "Isn't that treason?"
"Shut up," I said. "You get too funny with a little wine." Outside it was raining hard. I looked at my watch. It was half-past nine.
"It's time to roll," I said and stood up.
"Who are you going to ride with, Tenehte?" Bonello asked.
"With Aymo. Then you come. Then piani. We'll start out on the road for Cormons."
"I'm afraid I'll go to sleep," piani said.
"All right. I'll ride with you. Then Bonello. Then Aymo."
"That's the best way," piani said. "Because I'm so sleepy."
"I'll drive and you sleep awhile."
"No. I can drive just so long as I know somebody will wake me up if I go to sleep."
"I'll wake you up. put out the lights, Barto."
"You might as well leave them," Bonello said. "We've got no more use for this place."
"I have a small locker trunk in my room," I said. "Will you help take it down, piani?"
"We'll take it," piani said. "Come on, Aldo." He went off into the hall with Bonello. I heard them going upstairs.
"This was a fine place," Bartolomeo Aymo said. He put two bottles of wine and half a cheese into his haversack. "There won't be a place like this again. Where will they retreat to, Tenente?"
"Beyond the Tagliamento, they say. The hospital and the sector are to be at pordenone."
"This is a better town than pordenone."
"I don't know pordenone," I said. "I've just been through there."
"It's not much of a place," Aymo said.

第三部 第二十七章
雷那蒂进来时我醒过来，但是他不讲话，我就又睡着了。第二天天亮前，我就穿上衣服走了。我走时他并没有醒。
我没到过培恩西柴高原，这时走过河对面我从前受伤的地方，走上从前奥军所盘踞的山坡，心中有一种奇异的感觉。那边现在新铺有一条险峻的山路，还有许多军用卡车。再过去路平坦下来，我望见雾中的树林和峻岭。那些树林一下子被占领了，所以没多大毁伤。再往前走，路没有了山丘的掩护，所以路两边和顶上都搭有席子，作为遮蔽。路的尽头是一个已经毁坏了的村子。村子过去一点的高处，就是前线。附近有许多大炮。村子里的房屋被破坏得很厉害，不过组织工作做得很好，到处有指路标。我们找到了吉诺，他给我们喝点咖啡，然后带我去见了几个人，看了那些救护站。吉诺说英国救护车在培恩西柴高原上还要过去一点的拉夫涅工作。他很佩服英国人。他说，炮轰有时还有，不过伤人不多。现在雨季一开始，病人要多起来。奥军据说要发动进攻，可他不相信。我们据说也要发动进攻，但是新来的部队并没有调来，所以所谓进攻恐怕也是谈谈罢了。这里吃的东西少，他很希望能回到哥里察去饱餐一顿。昨天晚饭我吃什么？我告诉了他，他说太好了。给他印象最深的是甜点心。我只说是一客甜点心，没有详细说明，他以为是什么考究的精品，想不到只是面包布丁。
我可知道他要给调到哪里去？我说我不知道，不过其他的救护车中有一些正在卡波雷多。他倒希望上那儿去。那是个很好的小镇，他特别喜欢镇后那座耸入云霄的高山。吉诺是个好小伙，人人好像都喜欢他。他说战斗打得最惨的地方是在圣迦伯烈山，还有伦姆外围的进攻，搞得太糟了。他说在我们前边和上边的特尔诺伐山脉，奥军在树林里布置了好些大炮，夜里常常狠狠地轰击我们的道路。特别刺激他神经的是敌人的海军炮队。这种炮，你只消看到它那种直射的弹道就认得出。先是啪的开炮声，随即就是炮弹的一阵子尖叫。他们往往是双炮齐发，一门紧挨着一门，炸裂的弹片特别大。他拿了一片给我看，那是块锯齿形的边缘较平整的铁片，有一英尺多长。看起来就像巴比特合金①。
“我想这种炮弹并不十分有效，”吉诺说。“但是把我可吓坏了。那声响就好像在对着你冲来似的。先是砰的一声，随即是尖锐的啸声和爆炸。如果一听就叫人吓得半死，那么即使没有受伤，又有什么用呢？”①
他说对面敌军阵地中现在有克罗地亚人，还有些马扎尔人。我们的部队还在进攻的阵地里。倘若奥军来进攻的话，我们这边既没有电话，又没有地方可以退守。高原上突出来的那一排低低的山丘，本来是防守的好阵地，但是我们并没有组织利用这个天然险要。我对培恩西柴高原究竟有怎样的看法？
我本以为它还要平坦点，更像个高原。想不到这地方竟是这样高低不平的。
①这里所讲的教是广义的，也包括天主教。波斯尼亚（现属南斯拉夫）的居民是斯拉夫民族，多信奉回教，因为过去属于土耳其帝国。
① 耶稣在被捕的那晚，曾同门徒彼得等在客西马尼园祷告。就捕时彼得拔刀抵抗，为耶稣所斥责。详见《圣经·马太福音》第26 章。
“高地上的平原，”吉诺说，“但其实并没有平原。”
我们回到他住的地方，一幢房子的地窖。我说，我原以为一道山顶较平坦而有一定深度的山脉，比一系列的小山防守起来要容易而稳当。上山进攻并不比在平地上打困难，我说。“那就要看是哪种山了，”他说。“你瞧瞧圣迦伯烈山。”“不错，”我说，“但是难就难在山顶是平坦的。人家攻上山顶是相当容易的。”
“不见得十分容易吧，”他说。
“是的，”我说，“但是圣迦伯烈山是特别的，因为与其说它是山，不如说它是座要塞。奥军在那儿做防御工事已经多年了。”我的意思是，从战术上来讲，凡是某种运动性的战争，以一系列时山当作一条战线是无法守住的，因为那太容易受敌人的包抄了。你该有可能机动的余地，而一座山是不太能机动的。况且，从山上向下射击，总是会射过头的。倘若左右翼被包抄了，最高峰上的精兵也就完了。我不相信在山上打仗能解决什么问题。关于这一点，我曾经想了又想，我说。你抢去一座山，我夺来一座山，但是要认真打仗的话，大家还得先下山来。
“倘若有的国家拿山做国境线，那怎么办呢？”他问。
“这我还没想出法子来，”我说，两人都笑起来。“但是，”我说，“在从前，奥军总是在维罗那周围那块四方平原上遭到打击的。人家让他们下到平原，然后迎头痛击。”
“是的，”吉诺说。“但是那些人是法国人，你在别人的国土上打仗，军事问题就可以干净利落地予以解决。”
“是的，”我同意道，“倘若是你自己的国土，干起来可不能那么科学化。”
“人可搞成过，叫拿破仑跌入陷阱。”
“是的，但是人家国大地方宽。要是你想在意大利这样对付拿破仑，那你只好退到布林迪西①去。”“那地方糟透了，”吉诺说。“你到过那儿吗？”
“到过，但没有呆过。”
“我是个爱国者，”吉诺说。“可是要我爱布林迪西或是塔兰多②却不可能。”
“你爱不爱培恩西柴高原？”我问。
“这土地是神圣的，”他说。“不过我希望它能多长一点马铃薯。你知道，我们来时，发现了一些奥国佬种下的马铃薯地。”
“这里的食物果真缺乏吗？”
“我总是东西不够吃，不过我虽是个饭量大的人，倒也没有挨过饿。这里的大灶伙食一般。前线部队吃得相当好，但是支援人员就没有那么多东西吃。一定在什么地方出了毛病。食物本该是充足的。”
“一定是黄牛偷到旁的地方去贩卖了。”
“对啦，他们尽量拿充足的食物供应在前线的部队，但是后援人员的伙食可就很缺乏了。弄得后援人员只好把奥军种下的马铃薯和树林里的栗子吃个精光。应当给他们好一点的食物。我们都是饭量大的人。我相信食物本来是一定够的。
① 巴比特合金是种以锡、锑、铜等炼成的合金。巴比特是发明人的姓氏。
② 马扎尔人为匈牙利的主要民族。克罗地亚人是当时奥匈帝国境内的一种斯拉夫族人。克罗地亚现归南斯拉夫。
士兵的伙食不够吃，这很不好。肚子吃不饱，心思就不同，这一点你注意到了没有？”
“我注意到了，”我说。“这样不能打胜仗，却能打败仗。”
“我们不谈败仗吧。谈败仗已谈得够多了。今年夏天的战斗可不能算是徒劳的。”
我一声不响。我每逢听到神圣、光荣、牺牲等字眼和徒劳这一说法，总觉得局促不安。这些字眼我们早已听过，有时还是站在雨中听，站在听觉达
不到的地方听，只听到一些大声喊出来的字眼；况且，我们也读过这些字眼，从人们贴在层层旧公告上的新公告上读到过。但是到了现在，我观察了好久，可没看到什么神圣的事，而那些所谓光荣的事，并没有什么光荣，而所谓牺牲，那就像芝加哥的屠场，只不过这里屠宰好的肉不是装进罐头，而是掩埋掉罢了。有许多字眼我现在再也听不进去，到末了，只有地名还保持着尊严。还有某些数字和某些日期也是如此，只有这一些和地名你讲起来才有意义。抽象的名词，像光荣、荣誉、勇敢或神圣，倘若跟具体的名称——例如村庄的名称、路的号数、河名、部队的番号和重大日期等等——放在一起，就简直令人厌恶。吉诺是个爱国者，所以有时他讲的话叫我们彼此之间产生隔阂，但是他人很不错，我也了解他是个爱国者。他生下来就是爱国的。后来他同柏图齐赶着原车回哥里察去了。
那天整天暴风雨。风刮着雨，到处积水，到处泥泞。那些被毁的房屋上的灰泥又灰又湿。快近薄暮时，雨停了，我从第二急救站那儿，望见赤裸而湿淋淋的秋天的原野，山峰顶上有云，路上的席屏湿淋淋地滴着水。太阳在沉落前又露了一次面，映照着山脊后边的光秃的树林。山脊上的树林里，奥军有许多大炮，不过开炮的倒是没有几门。我看着前线附近一幢毁坏的农舍上空突然出现的一团团榴霰弹的烟，轻柔的烟团，中央出现黄白色的闪光。你看见了闪光，然后才听见炮声，看见那个烟团在风中变形而变得稀薄。村屋的瓦砾堆中有许多榴霰弹中的铁弹，急救站那幢破屋子旁边的路上也有，但是那天下午敌人并没向急救站的附近。我们装了两车伤员，在淋湿的席屏遮掩好的路上开着走，残照的余辉从条条席子的空隙中射进来。我们还没走到山后那段露天的路上，太阳下去了。我们在没遮掩的路上朝前驶，正当车子转个弯，由敞开的郊野驶进搭有席子的方形甬道时，雨又下了。
夜里起了风，到清早三时，正当大雨倾盆直泻的当儿，敌军发炮轰击，克罗地业部队穿越山上的草场和一片片的树林，冲到前线来。他们冒着雨在黑暗中混打一阵，由第二线一批惊慌的士兵发动，才把敌人赶了回去。在雨中开了许多炮，放了许多火箭，全线都响起了机熗声和步熗声。他们没有再来攻，前线比较沉寂了，在一阵阵风雨中，我们听得见北面远远地有猛烈的炮轰声。
伤员到救护站来了，有的由人用担架抬来，有的自己走，有的由人家背着越过田野而来。他们全身湿透，都吓得要命。我们把担架上的伤员由急救站的地下室抬上来，装满了两部救护车，当我伸手关上第二部车的车门时，我发觉打在脸上的雨已变成雪了。雪花在雨中又猛又快地落下来。
天亮时还在刮狂风，雪倒停了。掉在湿地上的雪已融化，而现在又下起雨来了。天刚亮，敌人又发动一次进攻，但是没有得逞。那天我们整天等待敌人来攻，一直等到太阳下山。在南面，那条有树林的长山岭底下，奥军的大炮集中在那里，又开始炮轰了。我们也等待他们的炮轰，但是并没有来。
天黑下来了。村子后边田野上的大炮开起来了，听见炮弹从我们这边往外开，心里倒很舒服。
我们听说敌人进攻南边已失败了。那天夜里他们不再进攻，但是我们又听说，他们在北边突破了我们的阵地。夜里有人传话来叫大家准备撤退。这消息是急救站那个上尉告诉我的。他的消息是从旅部听来的。过了一会儿，他接到电话，说方才的消息是小广播。旅部奉令坚守培恩西柴这条战线，不顾任何变化。我问起关于突破的消息，他说他在旅部听说，奥军突破了第二十七军团阵地，直逼卡波雷多。北边整天有大恶战。
“倘若那批龟儿子真的让他们突破的话，我们就成为瓮中之鳖了，”他说。“进攻的是德国部队，”一位军医说。一提起德国人，大家谈虎变色。我们不想跟德国人打交道。
“一共有十五师德军，”军医说。“他们已经突破过来，我们就要给切断了。”
“在旅部，他们说这条战线非守住不可。他们说，敌人的突破还不太厉害，我们要守住从马焦莱峰一直横穿山区的新阵地。”
“他们这消息是从哪儿听来的？”
“从师部。”
“叫我们撤退的就是师部来的命令嘛。”
“我们是直属军团的，”我说。“但是在这儿，我受你的指挥。自然，你什么时候叫我走我就走。但是命令是退还是守，总得弄个清楚。”“命令是留守这地方。你把伤员从这儿运到后送站。”
“有时候我们还把伤员从后送站运到野战医院，”我说。“告诉我，我没见识过撤退——要是果真撤退，这些伤员怎么撤退法呢？”
“没法把伤员全部运走。能运多少就运多少，其余的只好撂下。”“那么车子装什么呢？”
“医院设备。”
“好的，”我说。
第二天夜里，撤退开始了。我们听说德军和奥军突破了北面的阵地，现在正沿着山谷直冲下来，向西维特尔和乌迪内挺进。撤退倒很有秩序，士兵们身上淋湿，心里愠悻。夜里，我们开着车子在拥挤的路上慢慢地走，越过了冒雨撤离前线的部队、大炮、马儿拖着的车子、骡子和卡车。并不比进兵时更混乱一点。
那天夜里，我们帮助那些野战医院撤退——野战医院就设在高原上那些毁坏最少的村庄里——把伤员运到河床边的普拉伐；第二天一整天，又是冒着雨协助撤退普拉伐的医院和后送站。那天雨下个不停，培恩西柴的部队冒着十月里的秋雨，撤出了高原，渡过了河，经过了那年春天开始打胜仗的地方。第二天中午，我们到了哥里察。雨停了，城里几乎全空了。我们车子开上街时，碰见那个专门招待士兵的窑子正在把姐儿们装进一部卡车。姐儿一共有七个，都戴着帽子，披着外衣，手里提着小提包。其中有两个在哭。有一个对我们笑笑，还伸出舌头来上下播弄。她长着厚嘴唇和黑眼睛。我停住车，跑过去找那管姐儿的说话。军官窑子的姐儿们当天一早就走了，她说。她们上哪儿去了？到科内利阿诺去了，她说。卡车开动了。那个厚嘴唇的姐儿又对着我们伸出舌头来。管姐儿的挥挥手。那两个姐儿仍旧在哭。其余的则饶有兴趣地望着车外的城镇。我回到了车上。“我们应当跟她们一同走，”
博内罗说。“这样，旅行一定挺有意思。”“我们的旅行会是愉快的，”我说。
“恐怕是要大吃苦头的吧。”
“我正是这个意思，”我说。我们顺着车道开到别墅前。
“要是碰上有些硬汉爬上车去逼她们硬搞起来，我倒想看看热闹。”“你看有人会这么做吗？”
“当然啦。第二军中，哪一个不认得这管姐儿的。”
我们到了别墅的门外。
“他们管她叫女修道院院长，”博内罗说。“姐儿们是新来的，但是人人都认得那管姐儿的。她们大概是刚要撤退前才运到的。”
“她们会好好乐一阵子的。”
“我也说她们会好好乐一阵子的。我倒希望可以免费搞她们一下。那妓院的价钱本来就太贵。政府敲诈我们。”
“把车子开出去，叫机工检查一下，”我说。“换一下润滑油，检查一下分速器。装满汽油，然后去睡一会儿。”
“是，中尉长官。”
别墅里空无一人。雷那蒂已经跟着医院撤退了。少校也坐上了小汽车，率领医院人员走了。少校在窗子上留下一张字条，叫我把堆在门廊上的物资装上车，开车到波达诺涅去。机工们早已了。我回到汽车间。我到了那儿，其余那两部车子刚开来了，司机们下了车。天又在下雨了。“我是多么——多么困，从普拉伐到这儿来一共睡着了三次，”皮安尼说。“现在我们怎么办，中尉？”
“我们换换油，涂些机油，装满汽油，然后把车子开到前边，把他们留下的破烂装上。”
“以后我们就出发吗？”
“不，我们先睡三小时。”
“天啊，能睡一睡多好啊，”博内罗说。“我已没法睁开眼睛驾车了。”
“你的车子怎么样，艾莫？”我问。
“没问题。”
“给我一套工作服，我帮你加油。”
“千万不可以，中尉，”艾莫说。“根本没事。你去收拾你自己的东西吧。”
“我的东西都收拾好了，”我说。“我去把他们留下来的东西搬出来吧。车子一弄好，你们就开到前边来。”
他们把车子开到别墅前边来，我们就把堆积在门廊上的医院设备装上车子。装完以后，三部车子排成一行，停在车路上的树底下躲雨。我们走进别墅去。
“到厨房去生个火，把衣服烘烘干，”我说。
“衣服干不干没关系，”皮安尼说。“我只想睡觉。”
“我要睡在少校的床上，”博内罗说。“我要在老头子躺的地方睡个觉。”
“我哪儿睡都行，”皮安尼说。
“这儿有两张床，”我打开门说。
“我从来不知道那间房里放的是什么，”博内罗说。
“那是老甲鱼的房间，”皮安尼说。
“你们俩就在那儿睡，”我说，“我会叫醒你们的。”
“中尉，要是你睡得太长久的话，我们就由奥国佬来叫醒吧，”博内罗说。
“我不会睡过头的，”我说。“艾莫在哪儿？”
“他到厨房去了。”
“去睡吧，”我说。
“我就去睡，”皮安尼说。“我已经坐着打盹打了一天啦。我的眼睛总是睁不开。”
“脱掉你的靴子，”博内罗说。“那是老甲鱼的床铺啊。”“我管它什么老甲鱼。”皮安尼躺在床上，一双泥污的靴子直伸着，他的头靠在胳膊上。我走到厨房去。艾莫在炉子里生了火，炉上放了一壶水。
“我想还是做一点实心面吧，”他说。“大家醒来时会肚子饿的。”“你难道不困吗，巴托洛梅奥？”
“不太困。等水一滚我就走。火会自己熄灭的。”“你还是睡一下吧，”我说。“我们可以吃干酪和罐头牛肉。”“这个要好一点，”他说。“吃点热的东西对那两个无政府主义者有好处。你去睡吧，中尉。”
“少校房间里有一张床。”
“那你就去睡吧。”
“不，我回我楼上的老房间去。你可想喝杯酒，巴托洛梅奥？”“大家动身时再喝吧，中尉。现在喝下去可没什么好处。”“要是你三小时后先醒来，而我又没来叫你，你就来叫醒我，行吗？”“我可没有表，中尉。”
“少校房间里墙上有个挂钟。”
“好吧。”
于是我走出去，穿过饭厅和门廊，走上大理石的楼梯，到了我以前和雷那蒂合住的房间。外边在下雨。我走到窗边，望出去。天在黑下来，我看见那三部车子成一排停在树底下。树木在雨中滴着水。因为天冷，树枝上挂着水珠。我回到雷那蒂的床边，躺下去，睡着了。
我们出发前在厨房里吃东西。艾莫搞了一大盆实心面，拌着洋葱和切碎的罐头肉。我们围桌而坐，喝了两瓶人家留在地窖里的葡萄酒。外边天黑了，还在下雨。皮安尼坐在桌旁，还是昏昏欲睡。
“我觉得撤退比进兵好，”博内罗说。“撤退时我们有巴勃拉酒喝。”
“我们现在喝它。明天也许得喝雨水啦，”艾莫说。
“明天我们到乌迪内。大家喝香槟。那些逃避兵役的王八蛋就呆在那儿。醒来吧，皮安尼！我们明天在乌迪内喝香槟！”
“我醒啦，”皮安尼说。他把实心面和肉盛在他的盘子里。“能找到番茄酱吗，巴托？”
“一点也没有啊，”艾莫说。
“我们要在乌迪内喝香槟，”博内罗说。他在杯子里斟满了澄清的红色巴勃拉酒。
“到乌迪内以前，我们可能喝——水哩，”皮安尼说。
“你吃炮了没有，中尉？”艾莫问。
“饱了。把酒瓶给我，巴托洛梅奥。”
“我给每部车子预备了一瓶酒，”艾莫说。
“你根本没有睡吗？”“我不需要多睡。我稍微眼睛闭一闭。”
“明儿我们要睡国王的床罗，”博内罗说。他现在兴高采烈。“明儿我们也许睡在——”皮安尼说。
“我要跟王后睡觉，”博内罗说。他望望我，看我对这玩笑有什么反应。
“跟你睡觉的是——”皮安尼昏昏欲睡地说。
“这是叛逆啊，中尉，”博内罗说。“这岂不是叛逆吗？”
“不许说了，”我说。“你们喝了一点酒就胡说八道。”外边下着雨。
我看看表。九点半。
“是该走的时间啦，”我说，站起身来。
“你乘谁的车子，中尉？”博内罗问。
“乘艾莫的。第二部是你。第三部皮安尼。我们走大路去科蒙斯。”“我就怕我会睡着，”皮安尼说。
“好吧。我就坐你的车子。第二部是博内罗。第三部是艾莫。”“这样安排最好了，”皮安尼说。“因为我太困了。”
“我开车，你睡一会儿。”
“不。只要我知道我一睡去，旁边有人叫醒我，那我车子还开得来的。”
“我会叫醒你的。把灯灭了吧，巴托。”
“让它们点着吧，”博内罗说。“这地方横竖我们没有用处了。”“我房间里有只上锁的小箱子，”我说。“你帮我拿下来好不好，皮安尼？”“我们给你搬去，”皮安尼说。“来吧，阿尔多。”他同博内罗一同走进门廊去。我听得见他们上楼梯的声响。
“这倒是个好地方，”巴托洛梅奥·艾莫说。他把两瓶酒和半块干酪装在帆布背包里。“以后再也不会碰上这么好的地方了。他们撤退到哪儿去呢，中尉？”
“他们说要退到过塔利亚门托河。医院和防区要设在波达诺涅。”“这镇子比波达诺涅好。”
“波达诺涅的情况我不了解，”我说。“我不过曾经路过那儿罢了。”
“那地方不大像样，”艾莫说。
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BOOK THREE CHAPTER 28
As we moved out through the town it was empty in the rain and the dark except for columns of troops and guns that were going through the main street. There were many trucks too and some carts going through on other streets and converging on the main road. When we were out past the tanneries onto the main road the troops, the motor trucks, the horse-drawn carts and the guns were in one wide slow-moving column. We moved slowly but steadily in the rain, the radiator cap of our car almost against the tailboard of a truck that was loaded high, the load covered with wet canvas. Then the truck stopped. The whole column was stopped. It started again and we went a little farther, then stopped. I got out and walked ahead, going between the trucks and carts and under the wet necks of the horses. The block was farther ahead. I left the road, crossed the ditch on a footboard and walked along the field beyond the ditch. I could see the stalled column between the trees in the rain as I went forward across from it in the field. I went about a mile. The column did not move, although, on the other side beyond the stalled vehicles I could see the troops moving. I went back to the cars. This block might extend as far as Udine. piani was asleep over the wheel. I climbed up beside him and went to sleep too. Several hours later I heard the truck ahead of us grinding into gear. I woke piani and we started, moving a few yards, then stopping, then going on again. It was still raining.
The column stalled again in the night and did not start. I got down and went back to see Aymo and Bonello. Bonello had two sergeants of engineers on the seat of his car with him. They stiffened when I came up.
"They were left to do something to a bridge," Bonello said. "They can't find their unit so I gave them a ride."
"With the Sir Lieutenant's permission."
"With permission," I said.
"The lieutenant is an American," Bonello said. "He'll give anybody a ride."
One of the sergeants smiled. The other asked Bonello if I was an Italian from North or South America.
"He's not an Italian. He's North American English."
The sergeants were polite but did not believe it. I left them and went back to Aymo. He had two girls on the seat with him and was sitting back in the corner and smoking.
"Barto, Barto," I said. He laughed.
"Talk to them, Tenente," he said. "I can't understand them. Hey!" He put his hand on the girl's thigh and squeezed it in a friendly way. The girl drew her shawl tight around her and pushed his hand away. "Hey!" he said. "Tell the Tenente your name and what you're doing here."
The girl looked at me fiercely. The other girl kept her eyes down. The girl who looked at me said something in a dialect I could not understand a word of. She was plump and dark and looked about sixteen.
"Sorella?" I asked and pointed at the other girl.
She nodded her head and smiled.
"All right," I said and patted her knee. I felt her stiffen away when I touched her. The sister never looked up. She looked perhaps a year younger. Aymo put his hand on the elder girl's thigh and she pushed it away. He laughed at her.
"Good man," he pointed at himself. "Good man," he pointed at me. "Don't you worry." The girl looked at him fiercely. The pair of them were like two wild birds.
"What does she ride with me for if she doesn't like me?" Aymo asked. "They got right up in the car the minute I motioned to them." He turned to the girl. "Don't worry," he said. "No danger of --," using the vulgar word. "No place for --." I could see she understood the word and that was all. Her eyes looked at him very scared. She pulled the shawl tight. "Car all full," Aymo said. "No danger of ---- . No place for --." Every time he said the word the girl stiffened a little. Then sitting stiffly and looking at him she began to cry. I saw her lips working and then tears came down her plump cheeks. Her sister, not looking up, took her hand and they sat there together. The older one, who had been so fierce, began to sob.
"I guess I scared her," Aymo said. "I didn't mean to scare her."
Bartolomeo brought out his knapsack and cut off two pieces of cheese. "Here," he said. "Stop crying."
The older girl shook her head and still cried, but the younger girl took the cheese and commenced to eat. After a while the younger girl gave her sister the second piece of cheese and they both ate. The older sister still sobbed a little.
"She'll be all right after a while," Aymo said.
An idea came to him. "Virgin?" he asked the girl next to him. She nodded her head vigorously. "Virgin too?" he pointed to the sister. Both the girls nodded their heads and the elder said something in dialect.
"That's all right," Bartolomeo said. "That's all right."
Both the girls seemed cheered.
I left them sitting together with Aymo sitting back in the corner and went back to piani's car. The column of vehicles did not move but the troops kept passing alongside. It was still raining hard and I thought some of the stops in the movement of the column might be from cars with wet wiring. More likely they were from horses or men going to sleep. Still, traffic could tie up in cities when every one was awake. It was the combination of horse and motor vehicles. They did not help each other any. The peasants' carts did not help much either. Those were a couple of fine girls with Barto. A retreat was no place for two virgins. Real virgins. probably very religious. If there were no war we would probably all be in bed. In bed I lay me down my head. Bed and board. Stiff as a board in bed. Catherine was in bed now between two sheets, over her and under her. Which side did she sleep on? Maybe she wasn't asleep. Maybe she was lying thinking about me. Blow, blow, ye western wind. Well, it blew and it wasn't the small rain but the big rain down that rained. It rained all night. You knew it rained down that rained. Look at it. Christ, that my love were in my arms and I in my bed again. That my love Catherine. That my sweet love Catherine down might rain. Blow her again to me. Well, we were in it. Every one was caught in it and the small rain would not quiet it. "Good-night, Catherine," I said out loud. "I hope you sleep well. If it's too uncomfortable, darling, lie on the other side," I said. "I'll get you some cold water. In a little while it will be morning and then it won't be so bad. I'm sorry he makes you so uncomfortable. Try and go to sleep, sweet."
I was asleep all the time, she said. You've been talking in your sleep. Are you all right?
Are you really there?
Of course I'm here. I wouldn't go away. This doesn't make any difference between us.
You're so lovely and sweet. You wouldn't go away in the night, would you?
Of course I wouldn't go away. I'm always here. I come whenever you want me.
"--," piani said. "They've started again."
"I was dopey," I said. I looked at my watch. It was three o'clock in the morning. I reached back behind the seat for a bottle of the barbera.
"You talked out loud," piani said.
"I was having a dream in English," I said.
The rain was slacking and we were moving along. Before daylight we were stalled again and when it was light we were at a little rise in the ground and I saw the road of the retreat stretched out far ahead, everything stationary except for the infantry filtering through. We started to move again but seeing the rate of progress in the daylight, I knew we were going to have to get off that main road some way and go across country if we ever hoped to reach Udine.
In the night many peasants had joined the column from the roads of the country and in the column there were carts loaded with household goods; there were mirrors projecting up between mattresses, and chickens and ducks tied to carts. There was a sewing machine on the cart ahead of us in the rain. They had saved the most valuable things. On some carts the women sat huddled from the rain and others walked beside the carts keeping as close to them as they could. There were dogs now in the column, keeping under the wagons as they moved along. The road was muddy, the ditches at the side were high with water and beyond the trees that lined the road the fields looked too wet and too soggy to try to cross. I got down from the car and worked up the road a way, looking for a place where I could see ahead to find a side-road we could take across country. I knew there were many side-roads but did not want one that would lead to nothing. I could not remember them because we had always passed them bowling along in the car on the main road and they all looked much alike. Now I knew we must find one if we hoped to get through. No one knew where the Austrians were nor how things were going but I was certain that if the rain should stop and planes come over and get to work on that column that it would be all over. All that was needed was for a few men to leave their trucks or a few horses be killed to tie up completely the movement on the road.
The rain was not falling so heavily now and I thought it might clear. I went ahead along the edge of the road and when there was a small road that led off to the north between two fields with a hedge of trees on both sides, I thought that we had better take it and hurried back to the cars. I told piani to turn off and went back to tell Bonello and Aymo.
"If it leads nowhere we can turn around and cut back in," I said.
"What about these?" Bonello asked. His two sergeants were beside him on the seat. They were unshaven but still military looking in the early morning.
"They'll be good to push," I said. I went back to Aymo and told him we were going to try it across country.
"What about my virgin family?" Aymo asked. The two girls were asleep.
"They won't be very useful," I said. "You ought to have some one that could push."
"They could go back in the car," Aymo said. "There's room in the car."
"All right if you want them," I said. "pick up somebody with a wide back to push."
"Bersaglieri," Aymo smiled. "They have the widest backs. They measure them. How do you feel, Tenente?"
"Fine. How are you?"
"Fine. But very hungry."
"There ought to be something up that road and we will stop and eat."
"How's your leg, Tenente?"
"Fine," I said. Standing on the step and looking up ahead I could see piani's car pulling out onto the little side-road and starting up it, his car showing through the hedge of bare branches. Bonello turned off and followed him and then piani worked his way out and we followed the two ambulances ahead along the narrow road between hedges. It led to a farmhouse. We found piani and Bonello stopped in the farmyard. The house was low and long with a trellis with a grape-vine over the door. There was a well in the yard and piani was getting up water to fill his radiator. So much going in low gear had boiled it out. The farmhouse was deserted. I looked back down the road, the farmhouse was on a slight elevation above the plain, and we could see over the country, and saw the road, the hedges, the fields and the line of trees along the main road where the retreat was passing. The two sergeants were looking through the house. The girls were awake and looking at the courtyard, the well and the two big ambulances in front of the farmhouse, with three drivers at the well. One of the sergeants came out with a clock in his hand.
"put it back," I said. He looked at me, went in the house and came back without the clock.
"Where's your partner?" I asked.
"He's gone to the latrine." He got up on the seat of the ambulance. He was afraid we would leave him.
"What about breakfast, Tenente?" Bonello asked. "We could eat something. It wouldn't take very long."
"Do you think this road going down on the other side will lead to anything?"
"Sure."
"All right. Let's eat." piani and Bonello went in the house.
"Come on," Aymo said to the girls. He held his hand to help them down. The older sister shook her head. They were not going into any deserted house. They looked after us.
"They are difficult," Aymo said. We went into the farmhouse together. It was large and dark, an abandoned feeling. Bonello and piani were in the kitchen.
"There's not much to eat," piani said. "They've cleaned it out." Bonello sliced a big cheese on the heavy kitchen table.
"Where was the cheese?"
"In the cellar. piani found wine too and apples."
"That's a good breakfast."
piani was taking the wooden cork out of a big wicker-covered wine jug. He tipped it and poured a copper pan full.
"It smells all right," he said. "Find some beakers, Barto."
The two sergeants came in.
"Have some cheese, sergeants," Bonello said.
"We should go," one of the sergeants said, eating his cheese and drinking a cup of wine.
"We'll go. Don't worry," Bonello said.
"An army travels on its stomach," I said.
"What?" asked the sergeant.
"It's better to eat."
"Yes. But time is precious."
"I believe the bastards have eaten already," piani said. The sergeants looked at him. They hated the lot of us.
"You know the road?" one of them asked me.
"No," I said. They looked at each other.
"We would do best to start," the first one said.
"We are starting," I said. I drank another cup of the red wine. It tasted very good after the cheese and apple.
"Bring the cheese," I said and went out. Bonello came out carrying the great jug of wine.
"That's too big," I said. He looked at it regretfully.
"I guess it is," he said. "Give me the canteens to fill." He filled the canteens and some of the wine ran out on the stone paving of the courtyard. Then he picked up the wine jug and put it just inside the door.
"The Austrians can find it without breaking the door down," he said.
"We'll roll." I said. "piani and I will go ahead." The two engineers were already on the seat beside Bonello. The girls were eating cheese and apples. Aymo was smoking. We started off down the narrow road. I looked back at the two cars coming and the farmhouse. It was a fine, low, solid stone house and the ironwork of the well was very good. Ahead of us the road was narrow and muddy and there was a high hedge on either side. Behind, the cars were following closely.

第三部 第二十八章
我们离城的时候，除了大街上几队开拔的部队和大炮以外，雨中的城镇显得空虚荒凉，一片黑暗。小街上也驶着许多卡车和马车，都在向大街集合。我们绕过硝皮厂开上大街时，部队、卡车、马拉的车子和大炮已经汇合成为一个宽阔的、慢慢移动的行列。我们在雨中缓慢而稳定地往前走，车子的散热器盖几乎碰到了前面一部卡车的后挡板——那卡车装满着东西，堆得高高，上边覆盖着一块已经打湿了的帆布。后来卡车停了。整个行列停顿了。等一等，又走了一会，又停了。我跳下车，跑到前面去看看，在卡车和马车间穿行，从淋湿的马颈下钻过去。阻塞交通的地方还在前头。我拐下大路，从一块踏板上跨过水沟，在水沟另一边的田野上走。我在田野上抄前走时，看得见大路上树木间的那个行列，在雨中停顿在那儿。我这样走了约莫一英里。行列没有动，虽则这些停滞的车辆的另一边的军队已在走动了。我踅回去找救护车。这个阻塞的行列可能极长，说不定一直延伸到乌迪内。皮安尼正伏在驾驶盘上睡觉。我爬上去，坐在他旁边，也入睡了。几个钟头后，我听见前面那部卡车嘎嘎地推上排挡。我叫醒了皮安尼，我们开车了，走了没几码，又停下来，过了一会儿又走了。雨还在落着。夜里，队伍又停住了。我下车跑回去看文莫和博内罗。博内罗的车子座位上搭载着两名工兵队的上士。我上车时，上士们连忙坐正示敬。“他们奉命留下来修一条桥，”博内罗说。“他们找不到原来的部队，我就让他们搭搭车。”
“请求中尉先生允准。”
“我允准，”我说。
“中尉是美国人，”博内罗说。“任何人来搭车子都行。”上士中的一个笑了。还有一个问博内罗，我是不是来自北美洲或南美洲的意大利人。
“他不是意大利人。他是北美洲的英吉利人。”
上士们很有礼貌，但是看样子不相信。我离开他们往后面去找艾莫。艾莫车子座位上有两个女郎，他正背靠在一个角落里抽烟。“巴托，巴托，”我说。他大笑起来。
“你跟她们谈谈，中尉，”他说。“我听不懂她们的话。喂！”他伸手放在女郎的大腿上，友好地拧了一下。那女郎赶快裹紧大围巾，推开他的手。“喂！”他说。“快告诉中尉你的名字，还有你在这里做什么。”女郎狠狠地盯着我。还有一个则低着头望着地下。那个瞪眼盯我的女郎用某种土语讲了几句，我一个字都听不懂。她长得肥胖，皮肤黑黑的，看上去约莫十六岁。“索雷拉①？”我问，指着旁边那姑娘。她点点头，笑了一笑。
“好的，”我说，轻轻拍了一下她的膝盖。我觉得我的手碰她时，她身子发僵。她的妹妹始终不敢抬起头来。她看上去也许小一岁。艾莫把手放在那姐姐的大腿上，她又推开它。他对着她直笑。
“好人，”他指指自己。“好人，”他指指我。“不要发愁。”女郎狠狠地望着他。这一对姐妹真像两只野鸟。
“她既然不喜欢我，为什么来搭我的车子？”艾莫问。“我一招手，她们立刻上车来了。”他转对女郎说话。“不要愁，”他说。“没有××的危险，”他讲的是粗话。“没有地方××。”我看得出她只听得懂那粗话。她非常恐惧地望着他。
① 布林迪西是意大利东南端的海港城市，这就是说等于完全自大陆上撤退，只剩下天边海角的一个小小立脚地。
她把围巾裹得更紧一点。“车子全病了，”艾莫说。“没有××的危险。没有地方××。”他每次说起那粗话，她身子就更僵一些。随后她僵硬地坐着，眼睛盯着他，开始哭起来了。我看见她嘴唇的抽动，接着眼泪从她那丰满的面颊上滚下来了。她的妹妹还是低着头，抓住她的手，两人紧紧偎在一起。那个本来恶狠狠的姐姐开始啜泣了。
“想不到竟吓了她，”艾莫说。“我并没有存心吓她。”
巴托洛梅奥拿出他的背包，切下两片干酪。“拿着，别哭啦，”他说。
那姐姐摇摇头，还是哭，妹妹可接过干酪吃起来。过了一会儿，妹妹把另一片干酪给她姐姐，两人都吃起来。姐姐还是啜泣了一下子。“她等一会儿就会好的，”艾莫说。
他突然想起了一个念头。“处女？”他问身边的那个姑娘。她用劲点点头。“也是处女？”他指指她的妹妹。两个女郎都点点头，那姐姐又用土语说了一些话。“那就好，”巴托洛梅奥说。“那就好。”
姐妹俩好像愉快一点了。
我撇下她们跟艾莫坐在一起，艾莫这时靠在一个角落里。我回到皮安尼的车子上。车马的队伍全不动弹，但是老是有部队从旁边开过。雨还是很大，我就想起，车马行列的一次次停滞，可能是因为有的车子的线路给打湿了。更可能是因为马匹或者人睡着了。不过，有时在城市里，大家都清醒的时候，也还是有交通阻塞的事情。糟的是马匹和机动车混杂在一起，彼此之间没有一点儿帮助。农夫的马车更增加了交通的困难。巴托车上有两个好姑娘。两个处女处在退兵的行伍中，那可太危险了。真正的处女啊。大概是很虔诚信教的。要是没有战争的话，我们大概都在床上睡觉吧。我的头在床上安息。床与床板。睡得像床板那样平直。凯瑟琳现在正睡在床上，拥衾而睡。她睡时靠在哪一侧呢？也许她还没有睡熟吧。也许她正躺着想念我呢。刮啊，刮啊，西风。嗯，风现在果真刮了，刮来的不只是小雨，还是大雨哩。整个夜里下雨。你知道落雨的时候落下来的是什么。你看它。啊，愿我的爱人又在我的怀抱中，我又在我的床上。我的爱人凯瑟琳。我甜蜜的爱人凯瑟琳当做雨落下来吧。把她刮回来给我。好，我们已在风中了。人人都给卷在风中了，小雨没法子叫风安静下来。“晚安，凯瑟琳，”我大声说道。“我希望你睡得好。亲爱的，倘若你极不舒服的话，你就翻身靠在另外一侧睡吧，”我说。“我给你倒点冷水来。过一会儿天就亮了，那时就不至于太难受了。他②叫你这么不好受，我很难过。设法睡去吧，亲爱的。”
我始终熟睡着，她说。你睡着了在讲话。你没有什么不舒服吧？你当真在那儿吗？
我自然是在这儿。我不会走开的。这在你我之间不算一回事。你太可爱太甜蜜了。你夜里不会走开，对吧？我当然不会走开的。我总是在这儿。你什么时候要我来我就来。“——”
皮安尼说。“他们又走动了。”
“我刚才昏昏沉沉的，”我说。我看看手表。早晨三点钟。我伸手到车座后把那瓶巴勃拉酒找出来。
“你刚才在大声说话，”皮安尼说。“我做了个梦，在讲英语，”我说。
② 另一个港口，就在布林迪西的西面。
雨稀疏下来，我们又走动了。天亮前我们又停顿了一次。天亮时我们的车子正在一个小岗上，我望见前面撤退的道路伸得老远老远，一切景物都是静止的，只有步兵在慢慢移动前进。我们又走动了，但是在白天的亮光中看去，车子可走得太慢，倘若想开到乌迪内的话，我们只好放弃大道，改抄小路，越过乡野而走。
夜间，许多从附近乡间小径上来的农民加入了这撤退大行列，于是行列间有了满载着家具杂物的马车；有些镜子从床垫间撅出着，车子上绑着鸡啊鸭啊。我们前边，有一部车上装着一架缝纫机，在雨中走着。他们抢救下了最宝贵的东西。车子上有的坐有女人，挤做一团避雨，有的跟在车边走着，尽量挨近车子。我们的这个行列中现在也有了狗，它们躲在马车底下行走。道路泥泞，路边的水沟满涨着水，路旁树木后边的田野，望去似乎太潮湿，没法开车穿过。我下了车沿着大路往前走，找一个望得见前边的地方，看看有没有侧路旁道，以便越过田野前进。我原知道小道很多，不过总要找一条可以通到目的地的。这些小道我记不得了，因为过去赶这里过，总是坐着车，顺着公路疾驰而过，看到的小道仿佛条条都是差不多的。现在我知道，倘若要越过这阻塞的行列，非找一条小道不可。没人知道奥军到了什么地方，战况怎么样，但是我看得准只要雨一停，飞机就会前来扫射这个行列，大家就要完蛋。到了那时，只要几个司机丢下卡车跑了，或是几匹马给炸死了，公路上的交通便会完全阻塞。
现在雨不像刚才那么大了，我想，说不定天就要放晴。我沿着大路的边沿往前走，找到一条通北面的小路，正在两块农田之间，路的两边栽有树篱，作为界线。我想这条小路可以走，便赶紧跑回去。我叫皮安尼转弯走那条小路，然后又跑去通知博内罗和艾莫。
“倘若这条路走不通，我们还可以转回来，”我说。
“这些人怎么办？”博内罗问。他旁边还坐着那两名上士。他们俩虽则没有刮脸，在这大清早看起来还是很富有军人气概。
“他们俩可以帮忙推推车，”我说。我回去找艾莫，告诉他我们将要越过乡野抄近路。
“我这两个处女家属怎么办？”艾莫说。女孩子们睡着了。“她们派不上什么用场，”我说。“你该找一两个推得动车子的。”“她们可以坐到车子的后边去，”艾莫说。“车子里有空地方。”“你要留她们，就随你的便好啦，”我说。“另找个背脊宽的汉子来推车吧。”
“找意大利狙击兵吧，”艾莫笑着说。“他们的背脊最宽。有人量过的。你好吗，中尉？”
“好。你呢？”
“好。只是很饿。”
“我们走的那条小道上总该有什么地方可以吃东西的吧，我们可以停下来吃一点。”
“你的腿怎么样，中尉？”
“好，”我说。我站在车子的踏板上朝前望，可望见皮安尼的车子正开上那条小路，顺着它开去，车子在路边界树的秃枝间透露出来。博内罗跟着转了弯，接着皮安尼在小路上直朝前开，我们就跟着前边两部救护车在有树篱的窄路上走动。这条路通到一家农舍。我们发现皮安尼和博内罗已在农家的院子里停了车。房子又矮又长，屋前有座棚子，支起葡萄藤垂在门上。院子里有口井，皮安尼正在打水装进他的散热器。开慢车开得这么长久，弄得散热器里的水都开了。农舍里没有人。我回头一望，这农舍原来是盖在平原上一块稍微凸起的高地上，我们望得见乡野、小路、树篱、农田和大路边的那一排树，撤退的队伍就在这大路上。那两名上士在屋子里东张西望。女郎们已经醒来，正在望着院落、井和农舍前的那两部大救护车，三名司机正聚在井边。上士中的一个手里拿着一座时钟走出屋来。“放回去，”我说。他看看我，走回屋子里，出来时手里没拿时钟。“你的同伴呢？”我问。
“上厕所去了。”说着，他在救护车的座位上坐了下来。他唯恐我们丢下他。
“吃早饭好不好，中尉？”博内罗问。“我们大可以吃点什么。花不了多少时间。”
“照你想，打这条路走到另外一边去，会不会通到什么地方？”“当然会的。”
“好。我们就吃吧。”皮安尼和博内罗走进屋子里去。
“来吧，”艾莫对女郎们说。他伸出手去扶她们下车。可是那姐姐摇摇头。她们不愿随便进入没有人的空屋子。她们目送着我们进去。“她们真难对付，”艾莫说。我们一同走进农舍。屋子又大又暗，给人一种被遗弃了的感觉。博内罗和皮安尼在厨房里。
“没有多少东西吃，”皮安尼说。“人家都带走了。”
博内罗在一张笨重的厨房桌上切一大块白色的干酪。
“干酪在哪儿找到的？”
“在地窖里。皮安尼还找到了酒和苹果。”
“这顿早餐可不赖。”
皮安尼把一只大酒瓮的木塞子拔出来，酒瓮外用柳条筐包着。他把酒瓮一侧，倒满了一铜锅的酒。
“味道还香，”他说。“找几只大口杯来，巴托。”
二位上士走了进来。
“吃点干酪吧，上士们，”博内罗说。
“我们该走啦，”上士中的一个说，他吃干酪，喝了一杯酒。“我们要走的。甭发愁，”博内罗说。
“行军专靠肚皮饱，”我说。
“什么？”上士问。
“吃是要紧的。”
“是的。但是时间更加宝贵。”
“依我看，这两个龟儿子已经吃过了，”皮安尼说。上士们望望他。他们恨我们这一伙人。
“你认得路吗？”其中的一个问我。
“不认得，”我说。他们俩彼此对看了一下。
“我们最好还是动身吧，”第一个上士说。
“我们就走，”我说。我又喝了一杯红葡萄酒。吃了干酪和苹果后，觉得酒的味道很好。
“把干酪带着走，”我说着走出去。博内罗出来时捧着那一大瓮酒。“太大啦，”我说。他爱惜地直瞧着那瓮酒。
“恐怕是太大，”他说。“拿行军水壶来装吧。”他把水壶装满了酒，有些酒溢出来，洒在院落的铺石上。随后他捧起酒瓮，把它摆在大门里边。
“这样奥国佬用不到打破门就找得到酒了，”他说。
“我们走吧，”我说。“皮安尼和我领头。”那两位工兵上士已坐在博内罗的身边。女郎们则在吃干酪和苹果。艾莫在抽烟。我们沿着那条狭窄的小道出发了。我回头望望那两部跟着来的救护车和那幢农舍。屋子是上好的石屋，矮矮的，很牢固，井边的铁栏也极好。我们前面的道路又狭窄又泥泞，两边尽是高高的树篱。在后边，其余的车子紧紧地跟随着我们。
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BOOK THREE CHAPTER 29
At noon we were stuck in a muddy road about, as nearly as we could figure, ten kilometres from Udine. The rain had stopped during the forenoon and three times we had heard planes coming, seen them pass overhead, watched them go far to the left and heard them bombing on the main highroad. We had worked through a network of secondary roads and had taken many roads that were blind, but had always, by backing up and finding another road, gotten closer to Udine. Now, Aymo's car, in backing so that we might get out of a blind road, had gotten into the soft earth at the side and the wheels, spinning, had dug deeper and deeper until the car rested on its differential. The thing to do now was to dig out in front of the wheels, put in brush so that the chains could grip, and then push until the car was on the road. We were all down on the road around the car. The two sergeants looked at the car and examined the wheels. Then they started off down the road without a word. I went after them.
"Come on," I said. "Cut some brush."
"We have to go," one said.
"Get busy," I said, "and cut brush."
"We have to go," one said. The other said nothing. They were in a hurry to start. They would not look at me.
"I order you to come back to the car and cut brush," I said. The one sergeant turned. "We have to go on. In a little while you will be cut off. You can't order us. You're not our officer."
"I order you to cut brush," I said. They turned and started down the road.
"Halt," I said. They kept on down the muddy road, the hedge on either side. "I order you to halt," I called. They went a little faster. I opened up my holster, took the pistol, aimed at the one who had talked the most, and fired. I missed and they both started to run. I shot three times and dropped one. The other went through the hedge and was out of sight. I fired at him through the hedge as he ran across the field. The pistol clicked empty and I put in another clip. I saw it was too far to shoot at the second sergeant. He was far across the field, running, his head held low. I commenced to reload the empty clip. Bonello came up.
"Let me go finish him," he said. I handed him the pistol and he walked down to where the sergeant of engineers lay face down across the road. Bonello leaned over, put the pistol against the man's head and pulled the trigger. The pistol did not fire.
"You have to cock it," I said. He cocked it and fired twice. He took hold of the sergeant's legs and pulled him to the side of the road so he lay beside the hedge. He came back and handed me the pistol.
"The son of a bitch," he said. He looked toward the sergeant. "You see me shoot him, Tenente?"
"We've got to get the brush quickly," I said. "Did I hit the other one at all?"
"I don't think so," Aymo said. "He was too far away to hit with a pistol."
"The dirty scum," piani said. We were all cutting twigs and branches. Everything had been taken out of the car. Bonello was digging out in front of the wheels. When we were ready Aymo started the car and put it into gear. The wheels spun round throwing brush and mud. Bonello and I pushed until we could feel our joints crack. The car would not move.
"Rock her back and forth, Barto," I said.
He drove the engine in reverse, then forward. The wheels only dug in deeper. Then the car was resting on the differential again, and the wheels spun freely in the holes they had dug. I straightened up.
"We'll try her with a rope," I said.
"I don't think it's any use, Tenente. You can't get a straight pull."
"We have to try it," I said. "She won't come out any other way."
piani's and Bonello's cars could only move straight ahead down the narrow road. We roped both cars together and pulled. The wheels only pulled sideways against the ruts.
"It's no good," I shouted. "Stop it."
piani and Bonello got down from their cars and came back. Aymo got down. The girls were up the road about forty yards sitting on a stone wall.
"What do you say, Tenente?" Bonello asked.
"We'll dig out and try once more with the brush," I said. I looked down the road. It was my fault. I had led them up here. The sun was almost out from behind the clouds and the body of the sergeant lay beside the hedge.
"We'll put his coat and cape under," I said. Bonello went to get them. I cut brush and Aymo and piani dug out in front and between the wheels. I cut the cape, then ripped it in two, and laid it under the wheel in the mud, then piled brush for the wheels to catch. We were ready to start and Aymo got up on the seat and started the car. The wheels spun and we pushed and pushed. But it wasn't any use.
"It's --ed," I said. "Is there anything you want in the car, Barto?"
Aymo climbed up with Bonello, carrying the cheese and two bottles of wine and his cape. Bonello, sitting behind the wheel, was looking through the pockets of the sergeant's coat.
"Better throw the coat away," I said. "What about Barto's virgins?"
"They can get in the back," piani said. "I don't think we are going far."
I opened the back door of the ambulance.
"Come on," I said. "Get in." The two girls climbed in and sat in the corner. They seemed to have taken no notice of the shooting. I looked back up the road. The sergeant lay in his dirty long-sleeved underwear. I got up with piani and we started. We were going to try to cross the field. When the road entered the field I got down and walked ahead. If we could get across, there was a road on the other side. We could not get across. It was too soft and muddy for the cars. When they were finally and completely stalled, the wheels dug in to the hubs, we left them in the field and started on foot for Udine.
When we came to the road which led back toward the main highway I pointed down it to the two girls.
"Go down there," I said. "You'll meet people." They looked at me. I took out my pocket-book and gave them each a ten-lira note. "Go down there," I said, pointing. "Friends! Family!"
They did not understand but they held the money tightly and started down the road. They looked back as though they were afraid I might take the money back. I watched them go down the road, their shawls close around them, looking back apprehensively at us. The three drivers were laughing.
"How much will you give me to go in that direction, Tenente?" Bonello asked.
"They're better off in a bunch of people than alone if they catch them," I said.
"Give me two hundred lire and I'll walk straight back toward Austria," Bonello said.
"They'd take it away from you," piani said.
"Maybe the war will be over," Aymo said. We were going up the road as fast as we could. The sun was trying to come through. Beside the road were mulberry trees. Through the trees I could see our two big moving-vans of cars stuck in the field. piani looked back too.
"They'll have to build a road to get them out," he said.
"I wish to Christ we had bicycles," Bonello said.
"Do they ride bicycles in America?" Aymo asked.
"They used to."
"Here it is a great thing," Aymo said. "A bicycle is a splendid thing."
"I wish to Christ we had bicycles," Bonello said. "I'm no walker."
"Is that firing?" I asked. I thought I could hear firing a long way away.
"I don't know," Aymo said. He listened.
"I think so," I said.
"The first thing we will see will be the cavalry," piani said.
"I don't think they've got any cavalry."
"I hope to Christ not," Bonello said. "I don't want to be stuck on a lance by any--cavalry."
"You certainly shot that sergeant, Tenente," piani said. We were walking fast.
"I killed him," Bonello said. "I never killed anybody in this war, and all my life I've wanted to kill a sergeant."
"You killed him on the sit all right," piani said. "He wasn't flying very fast when you killed him."
"Never mind. That's one thing I can always remember. I killed that--of a sergeant."
"What will you say in confession?" Aymo asked.
"I'll say, 'Bless me, father, I killed a sergeant." They all laughed.
"He's an anarchist," piani said. "He doesn't go to church."
"piani's an anarchist too," Bonello said.
"Are you really anarchists?" I asked.
"No, Tenente. We're socialists. We come from Imola."
"Haven't you ever been there?"
"No."
"By Christ it's a fine place, Tenente. You come there after the war and we'll show you something."
"Are you all socialists?"
"Everybody."
"Is it a fine town?"
"Wonderful. You never saw a town like that."
"How did you get to be socialists?"
"We're all socialists. Everybody is a socialist. We've always been socialists."
"You come, Tenente. We'll make you a socialist too."
Ahead the road turned off to the left and there was a little hill and, beyond a stone wall, an apple orchard. As the road went uphill they ceased talking. We walked along together all going fast against time.

第三部 第二十九章
中午时分，我们的车子陷在一条泥泞的道路上，再也开不动了。那地方据我们猜想，离开乌迪内约莫有十公里。上午雨停了，我们三次听见飞机飞近来，看着飞机越过头上，飞到左边遥远的地方，我们听见轰炸公路的声响。我们在好些纵横交叉的小路上摸索了好久，走了许多冤枉路，但是经过屡次车找到新路，居然越走越逼近乌迪内了。这时艾莫的车子，从一条绝路上车时，车身陷入路边的软泥，车轮越打转，就陷入泥土越深，到末了前轮入士，分速器箱碰到了地上。补救的办法是把车轮前边的泥土挖掉，砍些树枝塞进去，以便车轮上的链条不致打滑，然后把车子推上路。我们都下到路面上，围在车子四周。那两位上士也望望车子，仔细看看车轮。随即一声不响，拔脚就走。我追了上去。
“来，”我说。“去砍些树枝。”
“我们得走了，”其中一个说。
“赶快去砍些树枝来，”我说。
“我们得走了，”一个上士说。另一个一声不响。他们急于走开。他们俩不愿对我看。
“我命令你们回来砍树枝，”我说。一个上士转过身来对我说：“我们得走了。过一会儿你们就要给人家截断后路。你没资格命令我们。你不是我们的长官。”
“我命令你们去砍树枝，”我说。他们掉转身就上路。
“站住，”我说。他们管自在泥泞的路上走去。路的两边栽有树木作为篱笆。“我命令你们站住，”我喊道。他们反而走得更快了。我打开手熗套，拔出熗来对准那个说话最多的就开熗。第一熗没打中，他们拔脚就跑。我连开三熗，一个中熗倒下。还有一个钻过树篱，看不见了。他越过田野时，我隔着篱笆向他开熗。想不到只是答的一声空响，我赶快再装上一夹子弹。我发现第二个上士已经跑得太远，手熗打不到了。他在田野上跑得远远地，低着头。我开始在空弹夹里装上子弹。博内罗走上前来。“我去结果他吧，”他说。我把手熗递给他，他走去找那扑倒在路上的上士。博内罗弯，把熗口对着那人的脑袋，扳了扳机。熗没打响。“你得先往上扳，”我说。他往上一扳，连开了两次。他抓住上士的两条腿，把他拖到路旁篱笆边。他走回来，把手熗还给我。
“龟儿子，”他说。他望望那上士。“你看见我打死他的吧，中尉？”“我们得赶快砍树枝，”我说。“那一个我完全没有打中吗？”“大概没有吧，”艾莫说。“他已经跑得太远，手熗打不到。”“王八蛋，”皮安尼说。我们大家都在砍枝条和树枝。车里所有的东西都搬了出来。博内罗在车轮前挖泥土。我们一准备好，艾莫就开动车子。车轮直打转，枝条和泥土四下溅散。博内罗和我拚命推车，推到关节都快要折断了。车子还是不动。
“把车子朝前朝后开开，巴托，”我说。
他先开倒车，又开顺车。车轮只是越陷越深。分速器又碰到地面了，车轮又在挖开的窟窿里直打转。我直起身来。
“拿根绳子来拖拖看吧，”我说。
“那不见得有用处，中尉。你没法笔直地拖。”
“我们只好试一试，”我说。“旁的办法都不能叫它动弹。”皮安尼和
博内罗的车子只能够沿着窄路直直地往前开。我们用绳子绑好这两部车子，叫它们拖。车轮只是往旁边动，紧靠在车辙上。“没有用，”我喊道。“停手吧。”
皮安尼和博内罗跳下他们的车子，走回来。艾莫也下了车。女郎们坐在四十码外路边的一堵石墙上。
“你看怎么办，中尉？”博内罗问。
“我们再挖一挖，再用枝条试它一次，”我说。我朝路的另一头望去。都是我的错。是我把他们领到这儿来的。太阳差不多从云后边出来了，上士的尸体躺在树篱边。
“我们拿他的军装上衣和披肩来垫一垫，”我说。博内罗去拿了来。我砍树枝，艾莫和皮安尼挖掉车轮前和车轮间的泥土。我把披肩割成两半，铺在车轮底下，然后又垫些枝条在下面，让车轮不致打滑。我们准备好了，艾莫爬上车去开车。车轮转了又转，我们推了又推。结果一点效力都没有。“他妈的，”我说。“巴托，你车子上还有什么东西要拿没有？”艾莫拿了干酪、两瓶酒和他的披肩，跟博内罗一起上车。博内罗坐在驾驶盘后面，在检查上士军装的一只只口袋。
“还是把军装丢掉吧，”我说。“巴托那两位处女怎么办？”“她们可以坐在车子的后部，”皮安尼说。“依我看，我们也是走不远的。”
我打开救护车的后门。
“来吧，”我说。“进去。”两位女郎爬了进去，坐在一个角落里。我们方才开熗的事，她们好像没有注意到。我回头望望来路。上士躺在那儿，只穿着一件肮脏的长袖内衣。我上了皮安尼的车子，我们又出发了。我们要越过一块农田。到了大路穿进农田的地方，我下车在前头走。我们要是能穿过这块田地，田地的那一边就有一条路。我们走不过去，田里的泥土太软太泥泞了，不能开车。最后车子完全困住了，车轮深深陷入烂泥中，一直陷到轮壳，我们只好丢下车子，步行往乌迪内进发。
我们走上那条往后通到原来的公路的小道，我指给两个女孩子看。“到那边去吧，”我说。“会碰到人的。”她们望着我。我掏出皮夹子，给她们每人一张十里拉的钞票。“到那边去吧，”我指着说。“朋友！亲戚！”她们听不懂，只是紧紧地捏着钞票，开始往路的另一头走去。她们回过头来看看，仿佛怕我要把钱要回来似的。我看着她们由那条小道走去，把大围巾裹得紧紧的，恐惧地扭过头来望望我们。三位司机纵声大笑。“如果我也朝那方向走，你给我多少钱，中尉？”博内罗问。“要是敌人追上来的话，她们还是混在人群里好一点，”我说。“你给我两百里拉，我就向奥地利一直走回去，”博内罗说。“人家会把你的钱夺去的，”皮安尼说。
“说不定战争停止了，”艾莫说。我们以最快的速度赶路。太阳想冲出云层来。路旁边有桑树。从桑树间我望得见我们那两部大篷车陷在田野里。皮安尼也掉头去观看。
“他们得先修一条路才能够把车子拖出来，”他说。
“啊，但愿我们有自行车，”博内罗说。
“在美国有人骑自行车吗？”艾莫问。
“从前有人骑的。”
“在这儿，自行车可真了不起，”艾莫说。“这东西太好了。”“啊，但愿我们有自行车，”博尼罗说。“我路走不来。”
“那是熗声吗？”我问。我好像听见远方有射击声。
“难说是不是，”艾莫说。他听着。
“大概是吧，”我说。
“我们首先看到的大概会是骑兵，”皮安尼说。
“他们不见得有骑兵队吧。”
“求求，但愿没有，”博内罗说。“千万别让天杀的骑兵把我一熗刺死。”
“你倒是向那上士开了熗，中尉，”皮安尼说。我们走得很快。“是我打死他的，”博内罗说。“这次战争里我还没杀过人，我一辈子就想杀个上士。”
“你是趁人家不动弹时打死他的，”皮安尼说。“你杀他的时候，人家可并不是在飞快地跑。”
“没关系。这是件我终生不会忘记的快事。我杀了一个狗上士。”“将来忏悔时怎么说呢？”艾莫问。
“我会说，祝福我，神父，我杀了一个上士。”他们都笑起来。“他是个无政府主义者，”皮安尼说。“他不上教堂的。”“皮安尼也是个无政府主义者，”博内罗说。
“你们真是无政府主义者吗？”我问。
“不是，中尉。我们是社会主义者。我们是伊摩拉①人。”“你没到过那地方吗？”
“没有。”
“可以证明，那才是个好地方哪，中尉。战后你来好了，我给你看一些好东西。”
“你们都是社会主义者吗？”
“人人都是。”
“那座城不错吧？”
“好极了。你从来没见过这样一座城市。”
“你们怎么会成为社会主义者的？”
“我们都是社会主义者。人人都是社会主义者。我们一向就是社会主义者。”“你来吧，中尉。我们也使你成为社会主义者。”
道路在前头向左转弯，那儿有一座小山，山上有一个苹果园，外面围着一堵石墙。路一上山，他们就停止说话了。我们一齐往前大步赶，努力争取时间。
① 意大利语，意为“姐妹”。
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BOOK THREE CHAPTER 30 Page 1
Later we were on a road that led to a river. There was a long line of abandoned trucks and carts on the road leading up to the bridge. No one was in sight. The river was high and the bridge had been blown up in the centre; the stone arch was fallen into the river and the brown water was going over it. We went on up the bank looking for a place to cross. Up ahead I knew there was a railway bridge and I thought we might be able to get across there. The path was wet and muddy. We did not see any troops; only abandoned trucks and stores. Along the river bank there was nothing and no one but the wet brush and muddy ground. We went up to the bank and finally we saw the railway bridge.
"What a beautiful bridge," Aymo said. It was a long plain iron bridge across what was usually a dry river-bed.
"We'd better hurry and get across before they blow it up," I said.
"There's nobody to blow it up," piani said. "They're all gone."
"It's probably mined," Bonello said. "You cross first, Tenente."
"Listen to the anarchist," Aymo said. "Make him go first."
"I'll go," I said. "It won't be mined to blow up with one man."
"You see," piani said. "That is brains. Why haven't you brains, anarchist?"
"If I had brains I wouldn't be here," Bonello said.
"That's pretty good, Tenente," Aymo said.
"That's pretty good," I said. We were close to the bridge now. The sky had clouded over again and it was raining a little. The bridge looked long and solid. We climbed up the embankment.
"Come one at a time," I said and started across the bridge. I watched the ties and the rails for any trip-wires or signs of explosive but I saw nothing. Down below the gaps in the ties the river ran muddy and fast. Ahead across the wet countryside I could see Udine in the rain. Across the bridge I looked back. Just up the river was another bridge. As I watched, a yellow mud-colored motor car crossed it. The sides of the bridge were high and the body of the car, once on, was out of sight. But I saw the heads of the driver, the man on the seat with him, and the two men on the rear seat. They all wore German helmets. Then the car was over the bridge and out of sight behind the trees and the abandoned vehicles on the road. I waved to Aymo who was crossing and to the others to come on. I climbed down and crouched beside the railway embankment. Aymo came down with me.
"Did you see the car?" I asked.
"No. We were watching you."
"A German staff car crossed on the upper bridge."
"A staff car?"
"Yes."
"Holy Mary."
The others came and we all crouched in the mud behind the embankment, looking across the rails at the bridge, the line of trees, the ditch and the road.
"Do you think we're cut off then, Tenente?"
"I don't know. All I know is a German staff car went along that road."
"You don't feel funny, Tenente? You haven't got strange feelings in the head?"
"Don't be funny, Bonello."
"What about a drink?" piani asked. "If we're cut off we might as well have a drink." He unhooked his canteen and uncorked it.
"Look! Look!" Aymo said and pointed toward the road. Along the top of the stone bridge we could see German helmets moving. They were bent forward and moved smoothly, almost supernatu rally, along. As they came off the bridge we saw them. They were bicycle troops. I saw the faces of the first two. They were ruddy and healthy-looking. Their helmets came iow down over their foreheads and the side of their faces. Their carbines were clipped to the frame of the bicycles. Stick bombs hung handle down from their belts. Their helmets and their gray uniforms were wet and they rode easily, looking ahead and to both sides. There were two--then four in line, then two, then almost a dozen; then another dozen-- then one alone. They did not talk but we could not have heard them because of the noise from the river. They were gone out of sight up the road.
"Holy Mary," Aymo said.
"They were Germans," piani said. "Those weren't Austrians."
"Why isn't there somebody here to stop them?" I said. "Why haven't they blown the bridge up? Why aren't there machine-guns along this embankment?"
"You tell us, Tenente," Bonello said.
I was very angry.
"The whole bloody thing is crazy. Down below they blow up a little bridge. Here they leave a bridge on the main road. Where is everybody? Don't they try and stop them at all?"
"You tell us, Tenente," Bonello said. I shut up. It was none of my business; all I had to do was to get to pordenone with three ambulances. I had failed at that. All I had to do now was get to pordenone. I probably could not even get to Udine. The hell I couldn't. The thing to do was to be calm and not get shot or captured.
"Didn't you have a canteen open?" I asked piani. He handed it to me. I took a long drink. "We might as well start," I said. "There's no hurry though. Do you want to eat something?"
"This is no place to stay," Bonello said.
"All right. We'll start."
"Should we keep on this side--out of sight?"
"We'd be better off on top. They may come along this bridge too. We don't want them on top of us before we see them."
We walked along the railroad track. On both sides of us stretched the wet plain. Ahead across the plain was the hill of Udine. The roofs fell away from the castle on the hill. We could see the campanile and the clock-tower. There were many mulberry trees in the fields. Ahead I saw a place where the rails were torn up. The ties had been dug out too and thrown down the embankment.
"Down! down!" Aymo said. We dropped down beside the embankment. There was another group of bicyclists passing along the road. I looked over the edge and saw them go on.
"They saw us but they went on," Aymo said.
"We'll get killed up there, Tenente," Bonello said.
"They don't want us," I said. "They're after something else. We're in more danger if they should come on us suddenly."
"I'd rather walk here out of sight," Bonello said.
"All right. We'll walk along the tracks."
"Do you think we can get through?" Aymo asked.
"Sure. There aren't very many of them yet. We'll go through in the dark."
"What was that staff car doing?"
"Christ knows," I said. We kept on up the tracks. Bonello tired of walking in the mud of the embankment and came up with the rest of us. The railway moved south away from the highway now and we could not see what passed along the road. A short bridge over a canal was blown up but we climbed across on what was left of the span. We heard firing ahead of us.
We came up on the railway beyond the canal. It went on straight toward the town across the low fields. We could see the line of the other railway ahead of us. To the north was the main road where we had seen the cyclists; to the south there was a small branch-road across the fields with thick trees on each side. I thought we had better cut to the south and work around the town that way and across country toward Campoformio and the main road to the Tagliamento. We could avoid the main line of the retreat by keeping to the secondary roads beyond Udine. I knew there were plenty of side-roads across the plain. I started down the embankment.
"Come on," I said. We would make for the side-road and work to the south of the town. We all started down the embankment. A shot was fired at us from the side-road. The bullet went into the mud of the embankment.
"Go on back," I shouted. I started up the embankment, slipping in the mud. The drivers were ahead of me. I went up the embankment as fast as I could go. Two more shots came from the thick brush and Aymo, as he was crossing the tracks, lurched, tripped and fell face down. We pulled him down on the other side and turned him over. "His head ought to be uphill," I said. piani moved him around. He lay in the mud on the side of the embankment, his feet pointing downhill, breathing blood irregularly. The three of us squatted over him in the rain. He was hit low in the back of the neck and the bullet had ranged upward and come out under the right eye. He died while I was stopping up the two holes. piani laid his head down, wiped at his face, with a piece of the emergency dressing, then let it alone.
"The --," he said.
"They weren't Germans," I said. "There can't be any Germans over there."
"Italians," piani said, using the word as an epithet, "Italiani!" Bonello said nothing. He was sitting beside Aymo, not looking at him. piani picked up Aymo's cap where it had rolled down the embankment and put it over his face. He took out his canteen.
"Do you want a drink?" piani handed Bonello the canteen.
"No," Bonello said. He turned to me. "That might have happened to us any time on the railway tracks."
"No," I said. "It was because we started across the field."
Bonello shook his head. "Aymo's dead," he said. "Who's dead next, Tenente? Where do we go now?"
"Those were Italians that shot," I said. "They weren't Germans."
"I suppose if they were Germans they'd have killed all of us," Bonello said.
"We are in more danger from Italians than Germans," I said. "The rear guard are afraid of everything. The Germans know what they're after."
"You reason it out, Tenente," Bonello said.
"Where do we go now?" piani asked.
"We better lie up some place till it's dark. If we could get south we'd be all right."
"They'd have to shoot us all to prove they were right the first time," Bonello said. "I'm not going to try them."
"We'll find a place to lie up as near to Udine as we can get and then go through when it's dark."
"Let's go then," Bonello said. We went down the north side of the embankment. I looked back. Aymo lay in the mud with the angle of the embankment. He was quite small and his arms were by his side, his puttee-wrapped legs and muddy boots together, his cap over his face. He looked very dead. It was raining. I had liked him as well as any one I ever knew. I had his papers in my pocket and would write to his family. Ahead across the fields was a farmhouse. There were trees around it and the farm buildings were built against the house. There was a balcony along the second floor held up by columns.
"We better keep a little way apart," I said. "I'll go ahead." I started toward the farmhouse. There was a path across the field.
Crossing the field, I did not know but that some one would fire on us from the trees near the farmhouse or from the farmhouse itself. I walked toward it, seeing it very clearly. The balcony of the second floor merged into the barn and there was hay coming Out between the columns. The courtyard was of stone blocks and all the trees were dripping with the rain. There was a big empty twowheeled cart, the shafts tipped high up in the rain. I came to the courtyard, crossed it, and stood under the shelter of the balcony. The door of the house was open and I went in. Bonello and piani came in after me. It was dark inside. I went back to the kitchen. There were ashes of a fire on the big open hearth. The pots hung over the ashes, but they were empty. I looked around but I could not find anything to eat.
"We ought to lie up in the barn," I said. "Do you think you could find anything to eat, piani, and bring it up there?"
"I'll look," piani said.
"I'll look too," Bonello said.
"All right," I said. "I'll go up and look at the barn." I found a stone stairway that went up from the stable underneath. The stable smelt dry and pleasant in the rain. The cattle were all gone, probably driven off when they left. The barn was half full of hay. There were two windows in the roof, one was blocked with boards, the other was a narrow dormer window on the north side. There was a chute so that hay might be pitched down to the cattle. Beams crossed the opening down into the main floor where the hay-carts drove in when the hay was hauled in to be pitched up. I heard the rain on the roof and smelled the hay and, when I went down, the clean smell of dried dung in the stable. We could pry a board loose and see out of the south window down into the courtyard. The other window looked out on the field toward the north. We could get out of either window onto the roof and down, or go down the hay chute if the stairs were impractical. It was a big barn and we could hide in the hay if we heard any one. It seemed like a good place. I was sure we could have gotten through to the south if they had not fired on us. It was impossible that there were Germans there. They were coming from the north and down the road from Cividale. They could not have come through from the south. The Italians were even more dangerous. They were frightened and firing on anything they saw. Last night on the retreat we had heard that there had been many Germans in Italian uniforms mixing with the retreat in the north. I did not believe it. That was one of those things you always heard in the war. It was one of the things the enemy always did to you. You did not know any one who went over in German uniform to confuse them. Maybe they did but it sounded difficult. I did not believe the Germans did it.
I did not believe they had to. There was no need to confuse our retreat. The size of the army and the fewness of the roads did that. Nobody gave any orders, let alone Germans. Still, they would shoot us for Germans. They shot Aymo. The hay smelled good and lying in a barn in the hay took away all the years in between. We had lain in hay and talked and shot sparrows with an air-rifle when they perched in the triangle cut high up in the wall of the barn. The barn was gone now and one year they had cut the hemlock woods and there were only stumps, dried tree-tops, branches and fireweed where the woods had been. You could not go back. If you did not go forward what happened? You never got back to Milan. And if you got back to Milan what happened? I listened to the firing to the north toward Udine. I could hear machine-gun firing. There was no shelling. That was something. They must have gotten some troops along the road. I looked down in the half-light of the hay-barn and saw piani standing on the hauling floor. He had a long sausage, a jar of something and two bottles of wine under his arm.
"Come up," I said. "There is the ladder." Then I realized that I should help him with the things and went down. I was vague in the head from lying in the hay. I had been nearly asleep.
"Where's Bonello?" I asked.
"I'll tell you," piani said. We went up the ladder. Up on the hay we set the things down. piani took out his knife with the corkscrew and drew the cork on a wine bottle.
"They have sealing-wax on it," he said. "It must be good." He smiled.
"Where's Bonello?" I asked.
piani looked at me.
"He went away, Tenente," he said. "He wanted to be a prisoner."
I did not say anything.
"He was afraid we would get killed."
I held the bottle of wine and did not say anything.
"You see we don't believe in the war anyway, Tenente."
"Why didn't you go?" I asked.
"I did not want to leave you."
"Where did he go?"
"I don't know, Tenente. He went away."
"All right," I said. "Will you cut the sausage?"
piani looked at me in the half-light.
"I cut it while we were talking," he said. We sat in the hay and ate the sausage and drank the wine. It must have been wine they had saved for a wedding. It was so old that it was losing its color.
"You look out of this window, Luigi," I said. "I'll go look out the other window."
We had each been drinking out of one of the bottles and I took my bottle with me and went over and lay flat on the hay and looked out the narrow window at the wet country. I do not know what I expected to see but I did not see anything except the fields and the bare mulberry trees and the rain falling. I drank the wine and it did not make me feel good. They had kept it too long and it had gone to pieces and lost its quality and color. I watched it get dark outside; the darkness came very quickly. It would be a black night with the rain. When it was dark there was no use watching any more, so I went over to piani. He was lying asleep and I did not wake him but sat down beside him for a while. He was a big man and he slept heavily. After a while I woke him and we started.
That was a very strange night. I do not know what I had expected, death perhaps and shooting in the dark and running, but nothing happened. We waited, lying flat beyond the ditch along the main road while a German battalion passed, then when they were gone we crossed the road and went on to the north. We were very close to Germans twice in the rain but they did not see us. We got past the town to the north without seeing any Italians, then after a while came on the main channels of the retreat and walked all night toward the Tagliamento. I had not realized how gigantic the retreat was. The whole country was moving, as well as the army. We walked all night, making better time than the vehicles. My leg ached and I was tired but we made good time. It seemed so silly for Bonello to have decided to be taken prisoner. There was no danger. We had walked through two armies without incident. If Aymo had not been killed there would never have seemed to be any danger. No one had bothered us when we were in plain sight along the railway. The killing came suddenly and unreasonably. I wondered where Bonello was.
"How do you feel, Tenente?" piani asked. We were going along the side of a road crowded with vehicles and troops.
"Fine."
"I'm tired of this walking."
"Well, all we have to do is walk now. We don't have to worry."
"Bonello was a fool."
"He was a fool all right."
"What will you do about him, Tenente?"
"I don't know."
"Can't you just put him down as taken prisoner?"
"I don't know."
"You see if the war went on they would make bad trouble for his family."
"The war won't go on," a soldier said. "We're going home. The war is over."
"Everybody's going home."
"We're all going home."
"Come on, Tenente," piani said. He wanted to get past them.
"Tenente? Who's a Tenente? A basso gli ufficiali! Down with the officers!"
piani took me by the arm. "I better call you by your name," he said. "They might try and make trouble. They've shot some officers." We worked up past them.
"I won't make a report that will make trouble for his family." I went on with our conversation.
"If the war is over it makes no difference," piani said. "But I don't believe it's over. It's too good that it should be over."
"We'll know pretty soon," I said.
"I don't believe it's over. They all think it's over but I don't believe it."
"Viva la pace!" a soldier shouted out. "We're going home!"
"It would be fine if we all went home," piani said. "Wouldn't you like to go home?"
"Yes."
"We'll never go. I don't think it's over."
"Andiamo a casa!" a soldier shouted.
"They throw away their rifles," piani said. "They take them off and drop them down while they're marching. Then they shout."
"They ought to keep their rifles."
"They think if they throw away their rifles they can't make them fight."
In the dark and the rain, making our way along the side of the road I could see that many of the troops still had their rifles. They stuck up above the capes.
"What brigade are you?" an officer called out.
"Brigata di pace," some one shouted. "peace Brigade!" The officer said nothing.
"What does he say? What does the officer say?"
"Down with the officer. Viva la pace!"
"Come on," piani said. We passed two British ambulances, abandoned in the block of vehicles.
"They're from Gorizia," piani said. "I know the cars."
"They got further than we did."
"They started earlier."
"I wonder where the drivers are?"
"Up ahead probably."
"The Germans have stopped outside Udine," I said. "These people will all get across the river."
"Yes," piani said. "That's why I think the war will go on."
"The Germans could come on," I said. "I wonder why they don't come on."
"I don't know. I don't know anything about this kind of war."
"They have to wait for their transport I suppose."
"I don't know," piani said. Alone he was much gentler. When he was with the others he Was a very rough talker.
"Are you married, Luigi?"
"You know I am married."
"Is that why you did not want to be a prisoner?"
"That is one reason. Are you married, Tenente?"
"No."
"Neither is Bonello."
"You can't tell anything by a man's being married. But I should think a married man would want to get back to his wife," I said. I would be glad to talk about wives.
"Yes."
"How are your feet?"
"They're sore enough."
Before daylight we reached the bank of the Tagliamento and followed down along the flooded river to the bridge where all the traffic was crossing.
"They ought to be able to hold at this river," piani said. In the dark the flood looked high. The water swirled and it was wide. The wooden bridge was nearly three-quarters of a mile across, and the river, that usually ran in narrow channels in the wide stony bed far below the bridge, was close under the wooden planking. We went along the bank and then worked our way into the crowd that were crossing the bridge. Crossing slowly in the rain a few feet above the flood, pressed tight in the crowd, the box of an artillery caisson just ahead, I looked over the side and watched the river. Now that we could not go our own pace I felt very tired. There was no exhilaration in crossing the bridge. I wondered what it would be like if a plane bombed it in the daytime.
"piani," I said.
"Here I am, Tenente." He was a little ahead in the jam. No one was talking. They were all trying to get across as soon as they could: thinking only of that. We were almost across. At the far end of the bridge there were officers and carabinieri standing on both sides flashing lights. I saw them silhouetted against the sky-line. As we came close to them I saw one of the officers point to a man in the column. A carabiniere went in after him and came out holding the man by the arm. He took him away from the road. We came almost opposite them. The officers were scrutinizing every one in the column, sometimes speaking to each other, going forward to flash a light in some one's face. They took some one else out just before we came opposite. I saw the man. He was a lieutenantcolonel. I saw the stars in the box on his sleeve as they flashed a light on him. His hair was gray and he was short and fat. The carabiniere pulled him in behind the line of officers. As we came opposite I saw one or two of them look at me. Then one pointed at me and spoke to a carabiniere. I saw the carabiniere start for me, come through the edge of the column toward me, then felt him take me by the collar.
"What's the matter with you?" I said and hit him in the face. I saw his face under the hat, upturned mustaches and blood coming down his cheek. Another one dove in toward us.
"What's the matter with you?" I said. He did not answer. He was watching a chance to grab me. I put my arm behind me to loosen my pistol.
"Don't you know you can't touch an officer?"
The other one grabbed me from behind and pulled my arm up so that it twisted in the socket. I turned with him and the other one grabbed me around the neck. I kicked his shins and got my left knee into his groin.
"Shoot him if he resists," I heard some one say.
"What's the meaning of this?" Itried to shout but my voice was not very loud. They had me at the side of the road now.
"Shoot him if he resists," an officer said. "Take him over back."
"Who are you?"
"You'll find out."
"Who are you?"
"Battle police," another officer said.
"Why don't you ask me to step over instead of having one of these airplanes grab me?"
They did not answer. They did not have to answer. They were battle police.
"Take him back there with the others," the first officer said. "You see. He speaks Italian with an accent."
"So do you, you ," I said.
"Take him back with the others," the first officer said. They took me down behind the line of officers below the road toward a group of people in a field by the river bank. As we walked toward them shots were fired. I saw flashes of the rifles and heard the reports. We came up to the group. There were four officers standing together, with a man in front of them with a carabiniere on each side of him. A group of men were standing guarded by carabinieri. Four other carabinieri stood near the questioning officers, leaning on their carbines. They were wide-hatted carabinieri. The two who had me shoved me in with the group waiting to be questioned. I looked at the man the officers were questioning. He was the fat gray-haired little lieutenant-colonel they had taken out of the column. The questioners had all the efficiency, coldness and command of themselves of Italians who are firing and are not being fired on.
"Your brigade?"
He told them.
"Regiment?"
He told them.
"Why are you not with your regiment?"
He told them.
"Do you not know that an officer should be with his troops?" He did.
That was all. Another officer spoke.
"It is you and such as you that have let the barbarians onto the sacred soil of the fatherland."
"I beg your pardon," said the lieutenant-colonel.
"It is because of treachery such as yours that we have lost the fruits of victory."
"Have you ever been in a retreat?" the lieutenant-colonel asked.
"Italy should never retreat."
We stood there in the rain and listened to this. We were facing the officers and the prisoner stood in front and a little to one side of us.
"If you are going to shoot me," the lieutenant-colonel said, "please shoot me at once without further questioning. The questioning is stupid." He made the sign of the cross. The officers spoke together. One wrote something on a pad of paper.
"Abandoned his troops, ordered to be shot," he said.
Two carabinieri took the lieutenant-colonel to the river bank. He walked in the rain, an old man with his hat off, a carabinieri on either side. I did not watch them shoot him but I heard the shots. They were questioning some one else. This officer too was separated from his troops. He was not allowed to make an explanation. He cried when they read the sentence from the pad of paper, and they were questioning another when they shot him. They made a point of being intent on questioning the next man while the man who had been questioned before was being shot. In this way there was obviously nothing they could do about it. I did not know whether I should wait to be questioned or make a break now. I was obviously a German in Italian uniform. I saw how their minds worked; if they had minds and if they worked. They were all young men and they were saving their country. The second army was being re-formed beyond the Tagliamento. They were executing officers of the rank of major and above who were separated from their troops. They were also dealing summarily with German agitators in Italian uniform. They wore steel helmets. Only two of us had steel helmets. Some of the carabinieri had them. The other carabinieri wore the wide hat. Airplanes we called them. We stood in the rain and were taken out one at a time to be questioned and shot. So far they had shot every one they had questioned. The questioners had that beautiful detachment and devotion to stern justice of men dealing in death without being in any danger of it. They were questioning a full colonel of a line regiment. Three more officers had just been put in with us.
"Where was his regiment?"
I looked at the carabinieri. They were looking at the newcomers. The others were looking at the colonel. I ducked down, pushed between two men, and ran for the river, my head down. I tripped at the edge and went in with a splash. The water was very cold and I stayed under as long as I could. I could feel the current swirl me and I stayed under until I thought I could never come up. The minute I came up I took a breath and went down again. It was easy to stay under with so much clothing and my boots. When I came up the second time I saw a piece of timber ahead of me and reached it and held on with one hand. I kept my head behind it and did not even look over it. I did not want to see the bank. There were shots when I ran and shots when I came up the first time. I heard them when I was almost above water. There were no shots now. The piece of timber swung in the current and I held it with one hand. I looked at the bank. It seemed to be going by very fast. There was much wood in the stream. The water was very cold. We passed the brush of an island above the water. I held onto the timber with both hands and let it take me along. The shore was out of sight now.

第三部 第三十章
后来，我们走上一条通到河边的道路。路上一直到桥边为止，有一长列被遗弃的卡车和运货马车。一个人影也没有。河水高涨，桥的中部已炸断；桥上的石拱掉在河里，褐色的河水就在上边流过。我们沿着河岸走，找个可以渡河的地点。我知道前头有座铁路桥，我们也许可以打那儿过河。河边小径又湿又泥泞。我们看不到任何军队，只有遗弃下来的卡车和辎重。河岸上除了湿的枝条和泥泞的土地外，什么东西都没有，什么人也没有。我们走到河岸边，终于看到了那座铁路桥。
“一座多么美丽的桥啊，”艾莫说。那是一座普通的长铁桥，横跨在一道通常干涸的河床上。
“我们赶快走过去吧，趁人家还没把它炸断，”我说。
“没人来炸断它啊，”皮安尼说。“他们都了。”
“桥上说不定埋有地雷，”博内罗说。“你先走，中尉。”“你听这无政府主义者讲出这种话来，”艾莫说。“叫他自己先走过去。”
“还是我先走，”我说。“人家埋的地雷不会仅因为一个人而爆炸的。”
“你瞧，”皮安尼说。“这才叫有脑筋。你为什么没脑筋呢，无政府主义者？”
“我有脑筋的话就不会在这儿了，”博内罗说。
“这话很有道理，中尉，”艾莫说。
“有道理，”我说。我们现在贴近桥了。天上又堆满了乌云，下着小雨。
那桥看起来又长又坚固。我们爬上铁路的路堤。
“你们一个个分开来走，”我说，开始走过桥去。我细心察看枕木和铁轨，看有没有什么拉发线或者埋有炸药的痕迹，但是看不见。从枕木的空隙间，我看见底下的河水又混浊又湍急。打前头，越过湿淋淋的乡野，我看得见在雨中的乌迪内。过了桥，我回头观看。河上游还有一道桥。我正看着那桥时，有一部黄泥色的小汽车正在过桥。那座桥的两边很高，车一上桥就给遮住了。但是我还看得见司机的头，司机旁边坐着的那人的头，还有车后座上的那两个人的头。他们全戴着德军钢盔。随后车子下了桥，又给路上的树木和遗弃的车辆遮住了。我向正在过桥的艾莫和其他人招招手，叫他们过来。我爬下去，蹲在铁路路堤边。艾莫跟着我下来。“你看见那部车子吗？”我问。
“没有。我们只在看着你。”
“有一部德官座车在那边那道桥上开过。”
“军官座车？”
“是的。”
“圣母马利亚啊。”
其余的人都过来了，大家都蹲在路堤后边的烂泥里，望着铁轨那一边的桥、那一排树、明沟和那条路。
“照你看，我们是不是给切断了，中尉？”
“我不知道。我只知道有一部德官座车从那条路上开过。”“你是不是有点不舒服，中尉？你脑子里不会有什么奇异的感觉吧？”“别乱开玩笑，博内罗。”
“喝点酒吧？”皮安尼说。“我们要是真的给切断了，索性喝口酒吧。”
他解下水壶来，打开塞子。
“看！看！”艾莫说，指着路上。我们看得见石桥顶上有德国兵的钢盔在晃动着。那些钢盔向前倾着，滑溜溜地向前移，简直像是被神奇的力量操纵着。他们下了桥，我们才看见他们。原来是自行车部队。我看见最前面那两个人的脸，又红润又健康。他们的钢盔戴得很低，遮住了前额和脸庞的两边。他们的卡宾熗给扣在自行车车架上。手榴弹倒挂在每人的束身皮带上，弹柄朝下。他们的帽盔和灰色都给雨水打湿了，仍旧从容地骑着车子，张望着前头和两边。起先两人一排——接着四人一排，又是两人一排，接着差不多十二个人；接着又是十二个人——最后是单独一人。他们不讲话，反正就是讲话我们也听不见，因为河声喧闹。他们在路上消失了。
“圣母马利亚啊，”艾莫说。“是德国兵，”皮安尼说。“不是奥国佬。”
“为什么这儿没人拦住他们？”我说。“他们为什么没有把桥炸掉？这路堤上为什么不布置机关熗？”
“你倒来对我们说说看，中尉，”博内罗说。
我很光火。
“该死，这整个局面都荒唐可笑。下边那座小桥他们炸掉了。这儿大路上的桥却保留了下来。人都躲到哪儿去了？难道他们完全不想拦阻敌人吗？”
“你倒来对我们说说看，中尉，”博内罗说。我于是闭嘴不说了。这本不干我的事；我的职务只是把三部救护车送到波达诺涅。这个任务我没有完成。现在我只要人到达波达诺涅就算了。也许我连乌迪内都走不到。为什么走不到，真见鬼！要紧的是保持镇静，别给人家的熗打中，别给人家俘虏去。
“你不是打开了一个水壶吗？”我问皮安尼。他递给我。我喝了一大口酒。“我们还是动身吧，”我说。“不过也不必匆忙。大家想吃点东西吗？”
“这不是可以多呆的地方，”博内罗说。
“好。我们就走吧。”
“我们就靠这边走吧？免得给人家看见。”
“我们还是到上面去走吧。可能也有敌人从这座桥赶来。我们可别让他们居高临下，先看到我们。”
我们沿着铁路轨道走。我们两边伸展着湿漉漉的平原。平原的前头就是乌迪内的那座小山。山上有座城堡，城堡下才是人家的屋顶，一家家挨过去。我们望得见钟楼和钟塔。田野上有许多桑树。我看见前头有个地方，路轨给拆掉了。枕木也给挖掉，丢在路堤下。
“趴下！趴下！”艾莫说。我们扑倒在路堤边。路上又有一队自行车走过。我从堤顶偷望着他们走过。
“他们看见了我们，但是管自走他们的路，”艾莫说。
“如果在上边走就会给人家打死的，中尉，”博内罗说。
“他们要的不是我们，”我说。“他们另有目标。倘若他们突然撞上我们，那我们就更危险了。”
“我情愿在这人家看不见的地方走，”博内罗说。
“好吧。我们在轨道上走。”
“你看我们逃得出去吗？”艾莫问。
“当然啦。敌军还不很多。我们可以趁着天黑溜过去。”
“那部军官座车是干什么的？”
“才知道，”我说。我们继续顺着铁轨走。博内罗在路堤的烂泥里走，后来走得腻了，也爬上来跟我们一起走。铁道朝南走，已与公路岔开，我们再也看不到公路上的情况。有一条运河，上边有条短桥给炸毁了，我们凭着桥墩的残留部分爬了过去。我们听见前头有熗声。
过了运河，我们又在车轨上走。铁道越过低洼的田野，一直入城。我们望得见前头另外有一条火车线。北面是那条我们看见开过自行车队的公路；南面是一条小支路，横贯田野，两边有密密的树木。我想还是抄近路朝南走，绕过城，再横过乡野朝坎波福米奥走，走上通塔利亚门托河的大路。我们走乌迪内城后的那些岔路小道，可以避开撤退的总队伍。我知道有许多小路横贯平原。于是我开始爬下路堤。
“来吧，”我说。我们要走那条支路，绕到城的南边去。这时大家都爬下了路堤。从支路那边嗖的有一熗向我们打来。子弹打进路堤的泥壁。“退回去，”我喊道。我爬上路堤，脚在泥土里打滑。司机们在我的前头。我尽快爬上路堤。密密的矮树丛里又打出了两熗，艾莫正在跨过铁轨，身子一晃，绊了一下，脸孔朝地跌了下去。我们把他拖到另外一边路堤上，把他翻转身来。“他的头应当朝上面，”我说。皮安尼把他转过来。他躺在路堤边的泥地上，双脚朝下，断断续续地吐出鲜血。在雨中，我们三人蹲在他身边。他脖颈下部中了一熗，子弹往上穿，从他右眼下穿出来。我正设法堵住这两个窟窿时，他死了。皮安尼放下他的头，拿块急救纱布擦擦他的脸，也就由他去了。
“那帮狗崽子，”他说。
“他们不是德国兵，”我说。“那边不可能有德国兵。”
“意大利人，”皮安尼说。他把这个名词当作一种表性形容词。博内罗一声不响。他正坐在艾莫身旁，可是并不望着他。艾莫的军帽已滚到路堤下面去了，皮安尼现在把它捡来遮住艾莫的脸。他拿出他的水壶来。“喝口酒吧？”皮安尼把水壶递给博内罗。
“不，”博内罗说。他转身对我说：“如果我们在铁轨上走，随时都有这个危险。”
“不，”我说。“人家开熗，是因为我们要穿过田野。”博内罗摇摇头。“艾莫死了，”他说。“第二个轮到谁啊，中尉？我们现在往哪里走？”
“开熗的是意大利人，”我说。“不是德国人。”
“照我看，要是德国人的话，他们会把我们都打死的，”博内罗说。“现在意军对于我们的危险比德国人还要大，”我说。“殿后部队对什么东西都害怕。德国部队自有其目的，不会多管我们。”
“你说得头头是道，中尉，”博内罗说。
“现在我们上哪儿去呢？”皮安尼问。
“最好找个地方躲一躲，挨到天黑再说。只要我们走得到南边就没事了。”
“他们为要证明第一次并没有打错，我们再过去准会给他们都打死，”博内罗说。“我才不干哩。”
“我们找个最贴近乌迪内的地方躲一躲，等天黑再摸过去。”“那么就走吧，”博内罗说。我们从泥堤的北边下去。我回头一望。艾莫躺在泥土里，跟路堤成一个角度。他人相当小，两条胳臂贴在身边，裹着绑腿布的双腿和泥污的靴子连在一起，军帽掩盖在脸上。他的样子真像尸首了。天在下雨。在我所认识的人们中，我算是喜欢他的了。他的证件在我口袋里，我准备写信通知他家属。
田野的前头有一幢农舍，周围栽着树，房屋旁边还搭有一些农家小建筑物。二楼有个阳台，用柱子支着。
“我们还是一个个分开些走吧，”我说。“我先走。”我朝农舍走去。
田野里有一条小径。越过田野走过去时，我不知道会不会有人从农舍附近的树木间，或者就从农舍里开熗打我们。我朝农舍走去，越看越清楚了。二楼的阳台和仓房联在一起，柱子间撅出着一些干草。院子是用石块铺砌的，所有的树木都在滴着雨水。院子里有一部空空的双车，车杠高高翘在雨中。我走到了院子，穿过去，在阳台下站住了。屋门开着，我便走进去。博内罗和皮安尼也跟着我进去。屋里很暗。我绕到后边厨房去。一个没盖的炉子里还有炉灰的余烬。炉灰上方虽则吊有几只锅子，可是都是空的。我找来找去，找不到什么可以吃的。
“我们得到仓房里去躲躲，”我说。“你去找找看可有什么吃的东西，皮安尼，找到就拿上来。”
“我去找好了，”皮安尼说。
“好吧，”我说。“我上去看看仓房。”我在底层的牛栏里找到了一道往上走的石梯。在下雨天，牛栏带着干燥而好闻的气息。牲口都没有了，大概主人走时赶走了。仓房里装着半屋干草。屋顶上有两个窗子，一个上面钉着木板，另一个是狭窄的老虎窗，朝北面开的。仓房里有一道斜槽，以便叉起干草从这儿滑下去喂牲口。地板上通楼下的方孔上架有横梁，运草车开进楼下，就可以把干草叉起送到楼上。我听见屋顶上的雨声，闻到干草的气息，当我下楼时，还闻到牛栏里纯净的干牛粪味。我们可以把南面的窗子撬开一条木板，张望院落里的动静。另外一道窗朝着往北的田野。我们要逃的话，两个窗子都通屋顶，倘若楼梯不能派用场，还可以利用那喂牲口的斜槽滑下去。这个仓房很宽大，一听见有人声，就可以躲在干草堆里。这地方似乎挺不错。我相信，要是方才人家不对我们开熗的话，我们一定已经平平安安到南边了。南边有德队是不可能的。他们从北边开过来，从西维特尔赶公路而来。他们不可能从南边绕过来。意军更为危险。他们惊慌失措了，看见任何东西就胡乱开熗。昨天夜里我们撤退时，听见有人说有许多德国兵穿上了意军军装，混在从北方撤退的队伍中。我不相信。战争中这种谣言有的是。打仗时敌人是常常会这样对付你的。你没听说过我们也有人穿上德军军服去跟他们捣蛋的。这种事也许有人做，不过似乎很困难。我不相信德国人会这么做。我不相信他们非这么做不可。我们的撤退根本用不到人家来捣乱。军队这么庞大，路又这么少，撤退必然混乱。根本没人下令指挥，不要说什么德国人。不过，他们还会把我们当作德军而开熗。他们把艾莫打死啦。干草味很香，我躺在仓房里的干草堆上，好像是退回到了年轻的时代。年轻时我们躺在干草堆里聊天，用气熗打歇在仓房的高高的山墙上的麻雀。那座仓房现在已拆掉了，有一年他们把铁杉树林砍了，从前有树林的地方只剩下一些残桩、干巴巴的树梢、枝条和火后的杂草。你往后退是不行的。要是你不往前走，又怎么样呢？你再也不能回到米兰。要是你回到了米兰，又怎么样呢？我听着北方乌迪内那方向的熗声。我只听见机熗声。没有炮声。这才叫人稍为心安。公路边一定还布置着一些军队。我朝下望去，借着这干草仓房内的暗光，看见皮安尼站在下边卸草的地板上。他拿着一根长香肠，一壶什么东西，胁下还挟着两瓶酒。
“上来吧，”我说。“梯子就在那儿。”话出了口我才发觉，我该下去帮他拿东西。我刚才在干草上躺了一会，弄得头脑胡里胡涂。我刚才几乎睡着了。
“博内罗呢？”我问。
“我就告诉你，”皮安尼说。我们走上梯子。我们把食物放在楼上的干草堆上。皮安尼拿出他的刀子，上边带有拔瓶塞的钻子，他用那钻子去开酒瓶。
“瓶口上用蜡封着，”他说。“一定是好酒。”他笑笑。
“博内罗呢？”
皮安尼望着我。
“他走了，中尉，”他说。“他情愿当俘虏去。”
我一声不响。
“他怕我们都会被打死。”
我抓住那酒瓶，一句话也不说。
“你看，我们对这场战争根本就没有信心，中尉。”
“那么你为什么不也走呢？”我说。
“我不愿意离开你。”
“他上哪儿去了？”
“我不知道，中尉。他溜走了。”
“好吧，”我说。“你切香肠好不好？”
皮安尼在半明半暗的光线中看着我。
“我们谈话时我就切好了，”他说。我们坐在干草上吃香肠，喝酒。那酒一定是人家藏起预备举行婚礼用的。年代这么长久，有点褪色了。“你守着这个窗子望出去，路易吉，”我说。“我过去守那道窗口。”我们每人各自喝一瓶酒，我就拿了我那一瓶走过去，平躺在干草上，由那窄窄的小窗口望着湿淋淋的乡野。我不知道自己在期待什么，我只看到一片片农田、赤裸的桑树和落着的雨。我喝喝酒，但是酒并不叫我愉快。因为年代太久了，变了质，失去了味道和色泽。我看着外面天黑下来；黑暗来得很快。今天夜里一定是个漆黑的雨夜。天一黑就不必守望了，我于是就到皮安尼那边去。他睡着了，我没叫醒他，只在他旁边坐了一会。他是个大个子，一睡着就不容易醒。过了一会儿，我叫醒他，我们就上路了。那是个奇异的夜晚。我不知道我期望碰到什么，或许是死亡，或许是在黑暗中打熗并奔跑，但是想不到却什么都没有发生。我们先是趴在公路边的水沟后面，等着一营德国兵开过，等他们走过后，我们才越过公路，一直朝北走。我们有两次贴近德国部队，但是他们并没有看见我们。我们绕着城的北面走过乌迪内，一个意大利人也没碰见，过了一会儿便走进大撤退的基本行列，整夜往塔利亚门托河赶去。我真想不到撤退的规模这么宏大。不但是军队，整个国家都在撤退。我们整夜赶着路，走得比车辆还要快。我的腿发痛，人又疲乏，但是我们还是走得很快。博内罗情愿去当俘虏，真太傻了。其实一点危险都没有。我们穿越两国大军，完全没发生意外。艾莫要是没给打死，我们不会感觉有任何危险。我们沿着铁路大大方方地走，没人来麻烦我们。艾莫的被杀是太突兀而太没理由了。不晓得博内罗正在什么地方。
“你觉得怎么样，中尉？”皮安尼问。路上车辆和军队很拥挤，我们在路的旁边走着。
“我好。”
“我走得发腻了。”
“嗯，我们现在只要走就行了。用不到再操心。”
“博内罗是个傻瓜。”
“他真是傻瓜。”
“他的事你怎么处理呢，中尉？”
“我还不知道。”
“你可以不可以就报告说他被俘虏了？”
“我不知道。”
“你看，要是战争继续下去，上面会给他家属找大麻烦的。”“战争不会继续下去的，”一个士兵说。“我们正在回家。战争结束了。”“人人都在回家。”
“我们都在回家。”
“快走，中尉，”皮安尼说。他想越过那些士兵。
“中尉？哪一个是中尉？军官！”
皮安尼搀住我的胳臂。“我还是叫你名字吧，”他说。“他们或许会来寻事。他们已经熗杀了一些军官。”我们赶了几步，赶过了那些部队。“我不会打一份报告叫他家属吃苦头的。”我继续我们的谈话。“要是战争真结束了，那就没有关系了，”皮安尼说。“但是我不相信战争已经结束。真这样就太好啦。”“我们不久就会知道的，”我说。
“我不相信战争结束。他们都这样想，我可不相信。”
“Viva la pace！①”一个士兵叫喊起来。“我们回家去啦。”“倘若我们大家都回家，那太好了，”皮安尼说。“你岂不想回家吗？”“想的。”
“我们回不了。依我看，战争还没有结束。”
“Andimo a casa！①”一个士兵喊道。“他们丢掉了步熗，”皮安尼说。“他们在走的时候把熗摘下，丢掉了。然后就喊口号。”
“他们不应该丢掉步熗。”
“他们以为只要把熗丢掉，人家就没法再叫他们打仗了。”在黑暗中和雨中，我们沿着路边赶路，我看见许多士兵还挂着步熗。熗在披肩上边撅出来。
“你们是哪一个旅的？”一个军官叫道。
“和平旅，”有人喊道。军官一声不响。
“他说什么？军官说什么？”
“军官。和平万岁！”
“快走吧，”皮安尼说。我们经过两部英国救护车，它们给丢在一大批遗弃的车辆间。
“是哥里察开来的车子，”皮安尼说。“车子我认得。”
“人家倒比我们走得远一些。”
“人家比我们早开车啊。”
“司机们不晓得哪儿去啦？”
① 指凯瑟琳肚子里的孩子。
① 意大利北部波洛尼亚省一古城。
“大概就在前头吧。”
“德队在乌迪内城外停下了，”我说。“这些人都可以渡河了。”
“是的，”皮安尼说。“我说战争还要打下去，就是这个缘故。”“德队本可以追上来，”我说。“不晓得为什么不追上来。”“我也不知道。这种战争我什么都不懂。”
“依我看，他们得等待他们的运输供应吧。”“我不知道，”皮安尼说。他独自一个人，态度就和气得多。和其他司机在一起时，他讲起话来很粗鲁。
“你结了婚没有，路易吉？”
“你知道我是结了婚的。”
“你不想当俘虏就是为了这个吗？”
“这是其中的一个理由。你结了婚没有，中尉？”
“没有。”
“博内罗也没结婚。”
“你设法凭一个人结婚不结婚来说明什么问题。不过，我想结了婚的人总想回去找他妻子的吧，”我说。我很想谈谈关于妻子的事。“是的。”
“你的脚怎么样？”
“着实疼。”
天亮前，我们赶到了塔利亚门托河的河岸边，便沿着涨满水的河走，走近一条所有的人马要过的桥。
“这条河总该守得住吧，”皮安尼说。在黑暗中，水好像涨得很高。河水打着漩涡，河面宽阔。那座木桥约莫有四分之三英里长，河水通常很浅，只是离桥面很远处的宽阔的石床上的一股窄窄的水道，现在可高涨到紧挨着桥板了。我们沿着河岸走，然后挤进了渡桥的人群。我紧紧地夹在人群中慢慢地过桥，上面是雨，下边隔着几尺便是河水，我的前头是一部炮车上的弹药箱，我从桥边探头望望河水。现在我们没法按照我们的速度赶路，反而觉得非常疲乏。过桥一点儿也不叫人兴奋愉快。我只是想，要是在白天，飞机来丢炸弹，那才不晓得是个什么光景呢。
“皮安尼，”我说。
“我在这儿，中尉。”他给挤在前面一点的人群里。没人说话。大家只希望快点过桥，心里就是这么个念头。我们快过去了。木桥的那一头，两边站有一些军官和宪兵，打着手电筒。我看见他们被地平线衬托出的身影。我们走近他们时，我看见有个军官用手指指队伍中的一个人。一名宪兵走进行列，抓住那人的胳膊，拖了出去。宪兵强迫他离开大路。我们快走到军官们的正对面了。他们正仔细察看着行列中的每一个人，有时交谈一声，跨前几步，打手电筒照照一个人的脸。我们刚要走到正对面时，他们又抓去了一个人。我看见那人。是个中校。人家用手电筒照他时，我看见他袖管上有两颗星。他头发灰白，长得又矮又胖。宪兵把他拖到那一排检查行人的军官后面。当我走到那一排军官跟前时，我看到有一两个军官正盯着我。其中有一位指指我，对宪兵说了一声。我看见那宪兵跑过来，挤过队伍的边沿来找我，接着我感到被他抓住了我的衣领。
“你怎么啦？”我说。一拳打到他脸上去。我看见那帽子底下的脸，上翘的小胡子，血从他面颊上淌下来。又有一个宪兵朝我们俩冲过来。“你怎么啦？”我说。他不回答。他正在寻找机会揪住我。我伸手到背后去解手熗。
“你难道不懂不能碰军官的规矩吗？”
另一个从我身后抓住我，把我的手臂朝上扭，扭得几乎脱了臼。我跟他一起转过身，第一个宪兵狠狠抓住了我的脖子。我踢他的胫骨，用我的左膝撞他的胯部。
“他再抵抗就开熗，”我听见有人在说。
“这是什么意思？”我想大声嚷，但是我的声音并不响亮。他们现在已把我拖到路边来了。
“他再抵抗就开熗，”一个军官说。“押他到后边去。”
“你们是什么人？”
“等一会你就知道。”
“你们是什么人？”
“战场宪兵，”另外一位军官说。
“方才你们为什么不叫我走出来，倒派一架这样的飞机来抓我？”他们不回答。他们可以不理睬。人家是战场宪兵哩。
“押他到后面那些人那儿去，”第一个军官说。“你看。他讲意大利话，口音不准。”
“你还不是同样口音不准，你这狗崽子，”我说。
“押他到后面那些人那儿去，”第一个军官说。他们押着我绕到这排军官的后边，走往公路下边临河的田野，那儿有一堆人。我们朝那堆人走去时，有人开了几熗。我看见步熗射击的闪光，然后是啪啪的熗声。我们走到那堆人旁边。那边站有四名军官，他们面前站着一个人，一边一个宪兵守着。有一小组人由宪兵看守着。审问者的旁边站着四名宪兵，人人挂着卡宾熗。这些宪兵都是那种戴宽边帽的家伙。押我去的那两个把我推进这等待审问的人群中。我看看那个正在受审问的人。他就是方才从撤退行列中给拖出来的那个灰头发的中校，胖胖的小个子。审问者冷静能干，威风凛凛，操人家生死大权的意大利人大致是这个模样，因为他们光熗毙人家，没有人家熗毙他们的危险。
“你属于哪一旅的？”
他告诉了他们。
“哪一团？”
他又说了。
“为什么不跟你那一团人在一起？”
他把原因说了出来。
“你不知道军官必须和他的部队在一起的规矩吗？”
他知道的。
问话到此为止。另外一个军官开口了。
“就是你们这种人，放野蛮人进来糟蹋祖国神圣的国土。”“对不起，我不懂你的话，”中校说。
“就是因为有像你这样的叛逆行为，我们才丧失了胜利的果实。”“你们经历过撤退没有？”中校问。
“意大利永远不撤退。”
我们站在雨中，听着这番话。我们正面对着那些军官，犯人站在他们跟前，稍为靠近我们这边一点。
“要熗毙我的话，”中校说，“就请便吧，不必多问。这种问法是愚蠢的。”他划了一个十字。那些军官会商了一下。其中一个在一本拍纸簿上写了些什么。
“擅离部队，明令熗决，”他宣读。
两个宪兵押着中校到河岸边去。中校在雨中走着，是个没戴军帽的老头儿，一边一个宪兵。我没看他们熗毙他，但是我听见了熗声。现在他们在审问另外一个人了。也是一个与他原来的部队失散了的军官。他们不让他分辩。他们从拍纸簿上宣读判决词时，他哭了，他们把他带到河边去时，他一路大哭大喊，而当人家熗决他时，另外一个人又在受审问了。军官们的工作法是这样的：第一个问过话的人在执行熗决时，他们正一心一意审问着第二个人。这样做表示异常忙碌，顾不到旁的事。我不知道要怎样做，是等待人家来审问呢，还是趁早拔脚逃走。我显然是个披着意军军装的德国人。我看得出他们脑子里是怎样想的；不过还要先假定他们是有脑子，并且这脑子是管用的。他们都是些年轻小伙子，正在拯救祖国。第二军正在塔利亚门托河后边整编补充。他们在处决凡是跟原来部队离散了的少校和校以上的军官。此外，他们对于披着意军的德国煽动者，也是从速就地熗决了事。他们都戴着钢盔。我们这边只有两人戴钢盔。有些宪兵也戴钢盔。其余的都戴着宽边帽子。我们叫这种帽子为飞机。我们站在雨中，一次提一人出去受审并熗决。到这时，凡是他们问过话的都被熗决了。审问者们本身全没危险，所以处理起生死问题来利索超脱，坚持严峻的军法。他们现在在审问一个在前线带一团兵的上校。他们又从撤退行列中抓来了三个军官。
“他那一团兵在哪儿？”
我瞧瞧宪兵们。他们正在打量那些新抓来的。其余的宪兵则在看着那个上校。我身子往下一蹲，同时劈开左右两人，低着头往河边直跑。我在河沿上绊了一文，哗的一声掉进河里。河水很冷，我可竭力躲在水下不上来。虽然感觉到河里的急流在卷着我，我还是躲在下面，自以为再也不会上来了。我一冒出水面，便吸一口气，连忙又躲下去。潜伏在水里并不难，因为我有一身衣服和靴子。我第二次冒出水面时，看见前头有一根木头，就游过去，一手抓住它。我把头缩在木头后边，连看都不敢往上边看。我不想看岸上。我逃跑时和第一次冒出水面时，他们都开熗。我快冒出水面时就听见熗声。现在却没人打熗。那根木头顺着水流转，我用一只手握着它。我看看岸上。河岸好像在很快地溜过去。河中木头很多。河水很冷。我随波逐流，从一个小岛垂在水面上的枝条下淌过去。我双手抱住那根木头，由它把我顺流漂去。现在已看不见河岸了。
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BOOK THREE CHAPTER 31
You do not know how long you are in a river when the current moves swiftly. It seems a long time and it may be very short. The water was cold and in flood and many things passed that had been floated off the banks when the river rose. I was lucky to have a heavy timber to hold on to, and I lay in the icy water with my chin on the wood, holding as easily as I could with both hands. I was afraid of cramps and I hoped we would move toward the shore. We went down the river in a long curve. It was beginning to be light enough so I could see the bushes along the shore-line. There was a brush island ahead and the current moved toward the shore. I wondered if I should take off my boots and clothes and try to swim ashore, but decided not to. I had never thought of anything but that I would reach the shore some way, and I would be in a bad position if I landed barefoot. I had to get to Mestre some way.
I watched the shore come close, then swing away, then come closer again. We were floating more slowly. The shore was very close now. I could see twigs on the willow bush. The timber swung slowly so that the bank was behind me and I knew we were in an eddy. We went slowly around. As I saw the bank again, very close now, I tried holding with one arm and kicking and swimming the timber toward the bank with the other, but I did not bring it any closer. I was afraid we would move out of the eddy and, holding with one hand, I drew up my feet so they were against the side of the timber and shoved hard toward the bank. I could see the brush, but even with my momentum and swimming as hard as I could, the current was taking me away. I thought then I would drown because of my boots, but I thrashed and fought through the water, and when I looked up the bank was coming toward me, and I kept thrashing and swimming in a heavy-footed panic until I reached it. I hung to the willow branch and did not have strength to pull myself up but I knew I would not drown now. It had never occurred to me on the timber that I might drown. I felt hollow and sick in my stomach and chest from the effort, and I held to the branches and waited. When the sick feeling was gone I pulled into the willow bushes and rested again, my arms around some brush, holding tight with my hands to the branches. Then I crawled out, pushed on through the willows and onto the bank. It was halfdaylight and I saw no one. I lay flat on the bank and heard the river and the rain.
After a while I got up and started along the bank. I knew there was no bridge across the river until Latisana. I thought I might be opposite San Vito. I began to think out what I should do. Ahead there was a ditch running into the river. I went toward it. So far I had seen no one and I sat down by some bushes along the bank of the ditch and took off my shoes and emptied them of water. I took off my coat, took my wallet with my papers and my money all wet in it out of the inside pocket and then wrung the coat out. I took off my trousers and wrung them too, then my shirt and under clothing. I slapped and rubbed myself and then dressed again. I had lost my cap.
Before I put on my coat I cut the cloth stars off my sleeves and put them in the inside pocket with my money. My money was wet but was all right. I counted it. There were three thousand and some lire. My clothes felt wet and clammy and I slapped my arms to keep the circulation going. I had woven underwear and I did not think I would catch cold if I kept moving. They had taken my pistol at the road and I put the holster under my coat. I had no cape and it was cold in the rain. I started up the bank of the canal. It was daylight and the country was wet, low and dismal looking. The fields were bare and wet; a long way away I could see a campanile rising out of the plain. I came up onto a road. Ahead I saw some troops coming down the road. I limped along the side of the road and they passed me and paid no attention to me. They were a machine-gun detachment going up toward the river. I went on down the road.
That day I crossed the Venetian plain. It is a low level country and under the rain it is even flatter. Toward the sea there are salt marshes and very few roads. The roads all go along the river mouths to the sea and to cross the country you must go along the paths beside the canals. I was working across the country from the north to the south and had crossed two railway lines and many roads and finally I came out at the end of a path onto a railway line where it ran beside a marsh. It was the main line from Venice to Trieste, with a high solid embankment, a solid roadbed and double track. Down the tracks a way was a flag-station and I could see soldiers on guard. Up the line there was a bridge over a stream that flowed into the marsh. I could see a guard too at the bridge. Crossing the fields to the north I had seen a train pass on this railroad, visible a long way across the flat plain, and I thought a train might come from portogruaro. I watched the guards and lay down on the embankment so that I could see both ways along the track. The guard at the bridge walked a way up the line toward where flay, then turned and went back toward the bridge. I lay, and was hungry, and waited for the train. The one I had seen was so long that the engine moved it very slowly and I was sure I could get aboard it. After I had almost given up hoping for one I saw a train coming. The engine, coming straight on, grew larger slowly. I looked at the guard at the bridge. He was walking on the near side of the bridge but on the other side of the tracks. That would put him out of sight when the train passed. I watched the engine come nearer. It was working hard. I could see there were many cars. I knew there would be guards on the train, and I tried to see where they were, but, keeping out of sight, I could not. The engine was almost to where I was lying. When it came opposite, working and puffing even on the level, and I saw the engineer pass, I stood up and stepped up close to the passing cars. If the guards were watching I was a less suspicious object standing beside the track. Several closed freight-cars passed. Then I saw a low open car of the sort they call gondolas coming, covered with canvas. I stood until it had almost passed, then jumped and caught the rear hand-rods and pulled up. I crawled down between the gondola and the shelter of the high freight-car behind. I did not think any one had seen me. I was holding to the hand-rods and crouching low, my feet on the coupling. We were almost opposite the bridge. I remembered the guard. As we passed him he looked at me. He was a boy and his helmet was too big for him. I stared at him contemptuously and he looked away. He thought I had something to do with the train.
We were past. I saw him still looking uncomfortable, watching the other cars pass and I stooped to see how the canvas was fastened. It had grummets and was laced down at the edge with cord. I took out my knife, cut the cord and put my arm under. There were hard bulges under the canvas that tightened in the rain. I looked up and ahead. There was a guard on the freight-car ahead but he was looking forward. I let go of the hand-rails and ducked under the canvas. My forehead hit something that gave me a violent bump and I felt blood on my face but I crawled on in and lay flat. Then I turned around and fastened down the canvas.
I was in under the canvas with guns. They smelled cleanly of oil and grease. I lay and listened to the rain on the canvas and the clicking of the car over the rails. There was a little light came through and I lay and looked at the guns. They had their canvas jackets on. I thought they must have been sent ahead from the third army. The bump on my forehead was swollen and I stopped the bleeding by lying still and letting it coagulate, then picked away the dried blood except over the cut. It was nothing. I had no handkerchief, but feeling with my fingers I washed away where the dried blood had been, with rainwater that dripped from the canvas, and wiped it clean with the sleeve of my coat. I did not want to look conspicuous. I knew I would have to get out before they got to Mestre because they would be taking care of these guns. They had no guns to lose or forget about. I was terrifically hungry.

第三部 第三十一章
我不晓得在河上究竟漂流了多久，因为河流湍急。时间好像很长，又可能很短。河水很冷，在泛滥，水上漂过许多东西，都是河水上涨时从岸上卷来的。我幸而抱住一根沉重的木头，身子躺在冰冷的水里，下巴靠在木头上，双手尽量轻松地抱着木头。我怕的是抽筋，只盼着会漂到岸边去。我漂下河去，划出一条长长的曲线。天开始亮了，我看得见河岸上的灌木丛。前头有一座矮树丛生的小岛，流水带着我朝岸上漂去。我不晓得该不该脱下靴子和衣服，游上岸去，终而决定不这么做。我当时总觉得我一定能上岸的，不管怎样上岸法。如果上岸时光着脚，那就糟了。我总得想法子赶到美斯特列。
我看着河岸在靠近，接着我又漂开去，接着又靠近了一点。我和木头现在漂流得慢一些了。河岸已很近。我看得见柳树丛的嫩枝了。木头慢慢地转动，河岸转到了我的后边，我这才知道我们到了一个漩涡中。我们慢慢地转着。我再看见河岸时，已离得很近，我一手抱住木头，抽出一支胳膊来划水，加上用脚踩水，希望靠拢岸边，但是结果还在老地方。我担心会给漩涡卷出去，还是一手抱住木头，抬起两脚来推木头的边沿，用力往岸边死推。岸上的灌木丛我看得见了，但是尽管有我的动力，并且拼命划水，水流可又把我卷走了。这时我才想起自己可能淹死，因为我的靴子太笨重了，但是我还是划水，死命挣扎，等我抬起头来时，岸正在渐渐靠近，于是我继续拼命划水，双脚笨重，惊慌失措，我终于奋力游到了岸边。我抓住了柳枝，吊在那儿，可是没有气力往上攀，不过心里明白，现在已不至于溺死了。我人在木头上时，始终没想到会淹死。刚才使尽了气力，胸口和胃里都觉得又空又想吐，只好攀住柳枝等待着。恶心过去后，我才爬进树丛，又休息了一下，双臂抱住一棵柳树，双手紧紧地抓住树枝。后来我爬出树丛，穿过树与树之间，爬到了岸上。那时天已半亮，我看不见一个人影。我平躺在河岸上，听着流水声和雨声。
过了一会，我站起身，顺着河岸走。我知道河上这一带没有桥梁，非得到拉蒂沙那不可。我推想我也许正在圣维多的对岸。我开始思量该怎么办。前头有条通河道的水沟。我朝那条沟走去。我至今没见人影，就在水沟边几棵灌木边坐下，脱掉靴子，倒出水来。我脱下军装上衣，从里边口袋里掏出皮夹子，皮夹子里放着我的证件和钞票，全给浸湿了。我拧干军装上衣。我把裤子也脱下来拧干，接着脱衬衫和内衣裤。我用手拍打身体，摩擦一番，再把衣服穿起来。我的军帽可掉了。
我穿上衣之前，先把袖管上的星章割下来，放在里边口袋里，和我的钱放在一起。我的钱虽则湿了，还可以用。我数了一下。一共有三千多里拉。我的衣服又湿又沾，我拍打着臂膀，叫血流通。我穿的是羊毛内衣，只要我人在走动，就不至于受凉。我的手熗已被宪兵在路边夺去了，现在我把手熗套塞进上衣内。我没有披肩，现在雨中很冷。我开始顺着运河的河岸走。已是白天了，乡野又湿又低，好不凄凉。田野光秃濡湿，我看见前面远处有一座钟塔屹立在平原上。我走上一条公路。我看见前头路上有些部队正在走过来。我在路边一拐一拐地往前走，他们走过我身边，没有理睬我。这是开到河边去的一个机熗支队。我顺着公路继续走。
那天我徒步穿越威尼斯平原。这是个又低又平的地带，一落雨，似乎更平凡单调了。靠海边有些盐沼地，道路很少。所有的路都是顺着河口通往海
边去的，我要横穿乡野，只好走运河边那些小径。我从北往南走，跨过两条铁路线和许多道路，终于从一条小径的尽头处走上一片沼泽地边的一条铁路线。这是从威尼斯到的里雅斯德去的干线，有坚固的高堤，有坚固的路基，还铺着双轨。铁轨过去不远的地方有个招呼站，我看得见有士兵在防守。铁轨那一端有一座桥，桥下是一条小河，流到一片沼泽地。我看见桥上也有一名守卫。刚才我跨过北边的乡野时，看到一列火车在这条线上走，因为地势平，远远就望得见，于是我想，可能有列火车从波多格鲁罗开来。我眼睛注意着那些守卫，身子趴在路堤上，以便看得见铁轨的两头。桥上的守卫顺着路线向我趴的地方走过来了一点，随即回转身又朝桥走。我饿着肚皮伏在那儿等火车来。我在平原上所望见的那列火车非常长，机车开得非常慢，这样速度的火车我准跳得上去。我等了半天，几乎等得绝望了，终于有一列火车开来了。车头直开过来，慢慢地越来越大。我看看桥上的守卫。他正在桥的这一头走，不过是在路轨的另一边。这样火车开过时，正好能把他遮住。我看着车头开近来。它开得很吃力。原来挂的车皮很多。我知道火车上一定也有守卫，我想看看守卫在什么地方，但是因为我人躲着，还是看不见。车头快开到我趴着的地方了。车头到我面前了——它虽然在平地上开，还是又吃力又喘气——我看见司机过去了，于是站起来，挨近一节节开过去的车厢。万一守卫看见，由于我站在车轨边，嫌疑性反而少一点。几节封闭的货车开过了。随后我看见一节没有遮盖的、车身很低的车厢，他们叫它为平底船，上边罩着帆布。我等它快要过去时，纵身一跃，抓住车后的把手，攀了上去。我爬到“平底船”和后边一节高高的货车的车檐间。大概没有人看见我吧。我抓着把手，蹲着身子，双脚踏在两节车厢间的联轴节上。火车快到桥上了。我想起桥上那个守卫。火车过去时，他望望我。他还是个孩子，他的帽盔太大了。我轻藐地瞪了他一眼，他赶快掉开头去。他以为我是列车上的什么人员哩。
我们过去了。我看见他还是怪不舒服地瞅着后面的那几节车厢，这时我俯去看看帆布是怎么绑牢的。帆布边沿上有扣眼，用绳子穿过绑着。我拿出刀子来，割断了绳子，伸出一条胳臂探进去。帆布下有些硬的东西突出着，那帆布因为给雨打湿了，绷得紧紧的。我抬头望望前面。前头货车上有一名守卫，幸亏他是在往前看。我放开把手，往帆布底下一钻。我的前额碰上一件东西，狠狠地一撞，我觉得脸上出血了，但是我还是爬进去，笔直地躺着。我随后转过身把帆布绑好。
帆布底下原来是大炮。大炮涂抹过润滑油和油脂，闻起来觉得很清新。我躺着倾听帆布上的雨声和列车在路轨上开的轧轧声。有些光线漏了进来，我躺着看看那些炮。炮身还罩着帆布套。我想一定是第三军送来的。我额上那一撞，肿起来了，我躺着不动弹，让伤口止血凝结，随后把伤口四周的干血块一一剥掉。这算不了什么。我没有手帕，只能用手指摸摸，然后蘸着帆布上滴下来的雨水，用袖子揩干净那些血迹。我不想让自己的样子惹人注意。我知道在列车到美斯特列以前，我非下车不可，因为到了那地方，一定有人来接收这些大炮。他们现在正需要大炮，损失不起，准不会忘记。我感到非常饿。
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BOOK THREE CHAPTER 32
Lying on the floor of the flat-car with the guns beside me under the canvas I was wet, cold and very hungry. Finally I rolled over and lay flat on my stomach with my head on my arms. My knee was stiff, but it had been very satisfactory. Valentini had done a fine job. I had done half the retreat on foot and swum part of the Tagliamento with his knee. It was his knee all right. The other knee was mine. Doctors did things to you and then it was not your body any more. The head was mine, and the inside of the belly. It was very hungry in there. I could feel it turn over on itself. The head was mine, but not to use, not to think with, only to remember and not too much remember.
I could remember Catherine but I knew I would get crazy if I thought about her when I was not sure yet I would see her, so I would not think about her, only about her a little, only about her with the car going slowly and clickingly, and some light through the canvas and my lying with Catherine on the floor of the car. Hard as the floor of the car to lie not thinking only feeling, having been away too long, the clothes wet and the floor moving only a little each time and lonesome inside and alone with wet clothing and hard floor for a wife.
You did not love the floor of a flat-car nor guns with canvas jackets and the smell of vaselined metal or a canvas that rain leaked through, although it is very fine under a canvas and pleasant with guns; but you loved some one else whom now you knew was not even to be pretended there; you seeing now very clearly and coldly--not so coldly as clearly and emptily. You saw emptily, lying on your stomach, having been present when one army moved back and another came forward. You had lost your cars and your men as a floorwalker loses the stock of his department in a fire. There was, however, no insurance. You were out of it now. You had no more obligation. If they shot floorwalkers after a fire in the department store because they spoke with an accent they had always had, then certainly the floorwalkers would not be expected to return when the store opened again for business. They might seek other employment; if there was any other employment and the police did not get them.
Anger was washed away in the river along with any obligation. Although that ceased when the carabiniere put his hands on my collar. I would like to have had the uniform off although I did not care much about the outward forms. I had taken off the stars, but that was for convenience. It was no point of honor. I was not against them. I was through. I wished them all the luck. There were the good ones, and the brave ones, and the calm ones and the sensible ones, and they deserved it. But it was not my show any more and I wished this bloody train would get to Mestre and I would eat and stop thinking. I would have to stop.
piani would tell them they had shot me. They went through the pockets and took the papers of the people they shot. They would not have my papers. They might call me drowned. I wondered what they would hear in the States. Dead from wounds and other causes. Good Christ I was hungry. I wondered what had become of the priest at the mess. And Rinaldi. He was probably at pordenone. If they had not gone further back. Well, I would never see him now. I would never see any of them now. That life was over. I did not think he had syphilis. It was not a serious disease anyway if you took it in time, they said. But he would worry. I would worry too if I had it. Any one would worry.
I was not made to think. I was made to eat. My God, yes. Eat and drink and sleep with Catherine. To-night maybe. No that was impossible. But to-morrow night, and a good meal and sheets and never going away again except together. probably have to go damned quickly. She would go. I knew she would go. When would we go? That was something to think about. It was getting dark. I lay and thought where we would go. There were many places.

第三部 第三十二章
我躺在无顶平板货车的车板上，旁边是大炮，上边是帆布，人又湿又冷又饿。我终于翻转身，头枕着我的臂膀，趴在车板上。我的膝盖虽然僵硬，倒也满好。瓦伦蒂尼的手术的确不错。撤退时我有一半时间是步行的，后来还在塔利亚门托河上游了一段，多亏他这膝盖。这膝盖确实是他的。另一只膝盖才是我自己的。你的身体经过医生的手术后，就再也不是你自己的了。头是我的，肚皮里的东西也是我的。肚皮里现在饿坏了。我感觉到饥肠辘辘，正在乱绞乱转。头是我自己的，但是不是供使用的，不是用它来思想的；只用它来记忆，但是也不能记忆得太多。
我可以回忆凯瑟琳，但是我也知道，我这样想她会想得发疯的，因为我还没有再见到她的把握，所以我不敢想她，只是略为想想，只是当列车慢慢地咔答咔答地行驶时，稍为想想她。帆布上漏进一点光来，我仿佛是和凯瑟琳一同躺在火车的车板上。躺在硬板上，不去思想，只是感觉，那太难了，因为离别时间太长久了，现在我衣服既湿，车板又是每次只稍为往前移动一下，内心寂寞，孑然一身湿衣服，权将硬板当夫人。
你说不上喜爱一节平板车的车板，或是罩上帆布套的大炮，或是涂抹过凡士林的大炮的气味，或是漏雨的帆布，不过人在帆布底下，还是满好的，和大炮在一起，还是愉快的；但是你所爱的是另外一个人，那人你明知道没有在车里，甚至要假想在车里也不行；你现在很清楚，很冷静──与其说很冷静，不如说很清楚很空虚吧。你趴在车板上，亲身经历一国大军的撤退和另一国大军的进军，现在所看到的只是空虚。你失掉了几辆救护车和人员，好比一个百货店的铺面巡视员，在火灾中损失了他那一部门的货色。不过没有保火险。你现在离开它了。你再也没有什么义务责任了。倘若百货店在火灾后熗毙巡视员，因为他讲话口音向来不纯正，那么百货店再开店复业时，就不能指望巡视员会回来，这是一定的。他们也许会另找职业；只要还有其他职业可找，只要抓不到他们。
愤怒在河里被洗掉了，任何义务责任也一同洗掉了。其实我的义务在宪兵伸手抓我衣领时就停止了。我是不拘外表形式的，但我倒很想把这军装脱掉。我已把袖管上的星章割掉，那只是为了便利起见。那与荣誉无关。我并不反对他们。我只是洗手不干了。我祝他们万事如意。世界上还有善良的人，勇敢的人，冷静的人和明智的人，他们是应该得到荣誉的。但是这已经不是我的战争，我只盼望这该死的车早点开到美斯特列，可以吃吃东西，停止思想。我非停止不可。
皮安尼会告诉他们我被熗毙了。熗毙的人他们要搜查口袋，取去证件。人家可没拿到我的证件。他们也许会说我淹死了。美国方面不晓得将接到什么消息。大概是因伤及其他原因而死亡吧。善良的啊，我真饿啊。从前在饭堂里一同吃饭的那个教士，现在不晓得怎么样了。还有雷那蒂。他大概在波达诺涅。如果他们没有退得更远的话。嗯，我今后再也看不到他了。他们这些人我都看不到了。这一方面的生活已经结束了。我不相信他得了梅毒。人家说，倘若趁早医治，这病是并不太严重的。但是他还是担心害上了这个病。要是我害上了这病的话，我也会发愁的。谁都会发愁的。
我生来不会多思想。我只会吃。我的上帝啊，我只会吃。吃，喝，同凯瑟琳睡觉。也许今天夜里吧。不，这是不可能的。但是明天夜里，一顿好饭，
有床有床单，永不分离，要走就一块儿走。大概还得特别赶快走哩。她是肯走的。我知道她肯走。我们什么时候走？这倒是值得思考的。天在黑下来了。我躺着思考要去的地方。地方倒是多着哩。
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举报 只看该作者 33楼  发表于: 2013-10-28 0
BOOK FOUR CHAPTER 33
I dropped off the train in Milan as it slowed to come into the station early in the morning before it was light. I crossed the track and came out between some buildings and down onto the street. A wine shop was open and I went in for some coffee. It smelled of early morning, of swept dust, spoons in coffee-glasses and the wet circles left by wine-glasses. The proprietor was behind the bar. Two soldiers sat at a table. I stood at the bar and drank a glass of coffee and ate a piece of bread. The coffee was gray with milk, and I skimmed the milk scum off the top with a piece of bread. The proprietor looked at me.
"You want a glass of grappa?"
"No thanks."
"On me," he said and poured a small glass and pushed it toward me. "What's happening at the front?"
"I would not know."
"They are drunk," he said, moving his hand toward the two soldiers. I could believe him. They looked drunk.
"Tell me," he said, "what is happening at the front?"
"I would not know about the front."
"I saw you come down the wall. You came off the train."
"There is a big retreat."
"I read the papers. What happens? Is it over?"
"I don't think so."
He filled the glass with grappa from a short bottle. "If you are in trouble," he said, "I can keep you."
"I am not in trouble."
"If you are in trouble stay here with me."
"Where does one stay?"
"In the building. Many stay here. Any who are in trouble stay here."
"Are many in trouble?"
"It depends on the trouble. You are a South American?"
"No."
"Speak Spanish?"
"A little."
He wiped off the bar.
"It is hard now to leave the country but in no way impossible."
"I have no wish to leave."
"You can stay here as long as you want. You will see what sort of man I am."
"I have to go this morning but I will remember the address to return."
He shook his head. "You won't come back if you talk like that. I thought you were in real trouble."
"I am in no trouble. But I value the address of a friend."
I put a ten-lira note on the bar to pay for the coffee.
"Have a grappa with me," I said.
"It is not necessary."
"Have one."
He poured the two glasses.
"Remember," he said. "Come here. Do not let other people take you in. Here you are all right."
"I am sure."
"You are sure?"
"Yes."
He was serious. "Then let me tell you one thing. Do not go about with that coat."
"Why?"
"On the sleeves it shows very plainly where the stars have been cut away. The cloth is a different color."
I did not say anything.
"If you have no papers I can give you papers."
"What papers?"
"Leave-papers."
"I have no need for papers. I have papers."
"All right," he said. "But if you need papers I can get what you wish."
"How much are such papers?"
"It depends on what they are. The price is reasonable."
"I don't need any now."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm all right," I said.
When I went out he said, "Don't forget that I am your friend."
"No."
"I will see you again," he said.
"Good," I said.
Outside I kept away from the station, where there were military police, and picked up a cab at the edge of the little park. I gave the driver the address of the hospital. At the hospital I went to the porter's lodge. His wife embraced me. He shook my hand.
"You are back. You are safe."
"Yes."
"Have you had breakfast?"
"Yes."
"How are you, Tenente? How are you?" the wife asked.
"Fine."
"Won't you have breakfast with us?"
"No, thank you. Tell me is Miss Barkley here at the hospital now?"
"Miss Barkley?"
"The English lady nurse."
"His girl," the wife said. She patted my arm and smiled.
"No," the porter said. "She is away."
My heart went down. "You are sure? I mean the tall blonde English young lady."
"I am sure. She is gone to Stresa."
"When did she go?"
"She went two days ago with the other lady English."
"Good," I said. "I wish you to do something for me. Do not tell any one you have seen me. It is very important."
"I won't tell any one," the porter said. I gave him a ten-lira note. He pushed it away.
"I promise you I will tell no one," he said. "I don't want any money."
"What can we do for you, Signor Tenente?" his wife asked.
"Only that," I said.
"We are dumb," the porter said. "You will let me know anything I can do?"
"Yes," I said. "Good-by. I will see you again."
They stood in the door, looking after me.
I got into the cab and gave the driver the address of Simmons, one of the men I knew who was studying singing.
Simmons lived a long way out in the town toward the porta Magenta. He was still in bed and sleepy when I went to see him.
"You get up awfully early, Henry," he said.
"I came in on the early train."
"What's all this retreat? Were you at the front? Will you have a cigarette? They're in that box on the table." It was a big room with a bed beside the wall, a piano over on the far side and a dresser and table. I sat on a chair by the bed. Simmons sat propped up by the pillows and smoked.
"I'm in a jam, Sim," I said.
"So am I," he said. "I'm always in a jam. Won't you smoke?"
"No," I said. "What's the procedure in going to Switzerland?"
"For you? The Italians wouldn't let you out of the country."
"Yes. I know that. But the Swiss. What will they do?"
"They intern you."
"I know. But what's the mechanics of it?"
"Nothing. It's very simple. You can go anywhere. I think you just have to report or something. Why? Are you fleeing the police?"
"Nothing definite yet."
"Don't tell me if you don't want. But it would be interesting to hear. Nothing happens here. I was a great flop at piacenza."
"I'm awfully sorry."
"Oh yes--I went very badly. I sung well too. I'm going to try it again at the Lyrico here."
"I'd like to be there."
"You're awfully polite. You aren't in a bad mess, are you?"
"I don't know."
"Don't tell me if you don't want. How do you happen to be away from the bloody front?"
"I think I'm through with it."
"Good boy. I always knew you had sense. Can I help you any way?"
"You're awfully busy."
"Not a bit of it, my dear Henry. Not a bit of it. I'd be happy to do anything."
"You're about my size. Would you go out and buy me an outfit of civilian clothes? I've clothes but they're all at Rome."
"You did live there, didn't you? It's a filthy place. How did you ever live there?"
"I wanted to be an architect."
"That's no place for that. Don't buy clothes. I'll give you all the clothes you want. I'll fit you out so you'll be a great success. Go in that dressing room. There's a closet. Take anything you want. My dear fellow, you don't want to buy clothes."
"I'd rather buy them, Sim."
"My dear fellow, it's easier for me to let you have them than go out and buy them. Have you got a passport? You won't get far without a passport."
"Yes. I've still got my passport."
"Then get dressed, my dear fellow, and off to old Helvetia."
"It's not that simple. I have to go up to Stresa first."
"Ideal, my dear fellow. You just row a boat across. If I wasn't trying to sing, I'd go with you. I'll go yet."
"You could take up yodelling."
"My dear fellow, I'll take up yodelling yet. I really can sing though. That's the strange part."
"I'll bet you can sing."
He lay back in bed smoking a cigarette.
"Don't bet too much. But I can sing though. It's damned funny, but I can. I like to sing. Listen." He roared into "Africana," his neck swelling, the veins standing out. "I can sing," he said. "Whether they like it or not." I looked out of the window. "I'll go down and let my cab go."
"Come back up, my dear fellow, and we'll have breakfast." He stepped out of bed, stood straight, took a deep breath and commenced doing bending exercises. I went downstairs and paid off the cab.

第四部 第三十三章
大清早天还没亮时，火车放慢下来，准备开进米兰车站，我赶快跳下了车子。我跨过车轨，穿过一些建筑物之间，走上一条街。有家酒店开着，我便进去喝杯咖啡。酒店里有大清早刚打扫过的气味，咖啡杯里还搁着调羹，台子上还印有酒杯底所留下的圆圈。主人在酒吧后边。两名士兵坐在一张桌子边。我站在酒吧边喝杯咖啡，吃了一片面包。咖啡给牛乳冲淡成灰色，我拿片面包撇掉牛乳的浮皮。主人看着我。
“来杯格拉巴酒吧。”
“不，谢谢。”
“就算我请客，”他说，倒了一小杯，推过来。“前线怎么样？”
“我哪会知道。”
“他们喝醉了，”他说，用手指着那两名士兵。这我相信。他们的确带着醉酒的模样。
“告诉我，”他说，“前线怎么样？”
“前线的事我哪会知道。”
“我看见你翻墙过来的。你刚下火车。”
“前线在大撤退。”
“报纸我是看的。究竟怎么啦？是不是结束了？”
“那不见得吧。”
他从一只矮瓶子里再倒了一杯格拉巴酒。“要是你有什么困难，”他说，“我可以收留你。”
“我没什么困难。”
“倘若你有困难的话，就住在我这里吧。”
“住什么地方呢？”
“就在这屋子里。许多人住在这里。凡是有困难的人，都可以住在这里。”
“有困难的人很多吗？”
“那要看是哪一种困难。你是南美洲人吧？”
“不是。”
“会讲西班牙话吗？”
“一点点。”他抹抹酒柜。
“出国现在很困难，不过也不是不可能的。”
“我倒没有出国的意思。”
“你想在这里呆多久都行。你呆久了就知道我是哪一种人。”
“今天早上我有事，我把这地址记下，以后再回来。”
他摇摇头。“看你这样，你是不会回来的。我倒以为你着实有难处。”
“我没什么难处。但是我也珍重朋友的地址。”
我放一张十里拉的钞票在柜台上，当做喝咖啡的帐。
“陪我喝一杯格拉巴酒吧，”我说。
“这倒不必。”
“来一杯。”
他斟了两杯酒。
“记住了，”他说。“上这儿来。别让别人收留你。这里是安全的。”
“这我相信。”
“真的吗？”
“真的。”
他脸色严肃。“那么我告诉你一件事。别穿这件军装到处走。”“为什么？”
“袖管上割掉星章的地方，人家看得清清楚楚。况且布的颜色也有了深浅。”
我一声不响。
“你要证件的话，我可以给你弄来。”
“什么证件？”
“休假证。”
“我不需要证件。我自己有。”
“好吧，”他说。“不过要是你需要的话，我可以代办。”“要多少钱？”
“这要看是哪一种证件。价钱很公道。”
“我现在不需要。”
他耸耸肩。
“我没事，”我说。
我出去时，他说：“别忘记我是你的朋友。”
“不会忘的。”
“再见吧，”他说。
“好，”我说。
上了街，我故意避开车站，因为那儿驻有宪兵。我在那小公园边找到一部马车。我把医院的地址告诉了车夫。到了医院，我先到门房住的地方去。
门房的妻子拥抱我。门房握握我的手。
“你回来啦。你平安无事。”
“是的。”
“用了早点没有？”
“吃过了。”
“你好吧，中尉？你好吧？”他妻子问。
“我好。”
“和我们一同吃早饭好吗？”
“不，谢谢你。告诉我，巴克莱小姐现在可在医院里？”“巴克莱小姐？”
“那个英国护士。”
“他的女朋友啊，”他妻子说。她拍拍我的胳膊，笑笑。“不在，”门房说。“她走啦。”
我的心往下一沉。“真的吗？我是说那个高高的、金黄头发的英国小姐。”
“我知道。她上施特雷沙去了。”
“她什么时候走的？”
“两天前，同另外那个英国小姐一块儿去的。”
“好，”我说。“我现在要你们做一件事。别告诉任何人说见到过我。
这是非常重要的。”“我不告诉任何人，”门房说。我给他一张十里拉的钞票。他推开了。“我答应你不告诉人好了，”他说。“钱我不要。”
“有什么事要我们替你做吗，中尉先生？”他妻子问。
“只希望你们不告诉别人，”我说。
“我们装哑巴，”门房说。“有什么事要做，通知我一声好不好？”“好，”
我说。“再会。将来再见。”
他们站在门口，目送着我。
我跳上马车，告诉车夫西蒙斯的住址。西蒙斯是一位学唱歌的朋友。西蒙斯住在城里好远的地方，在马根塔门①那一头。我进去看他时，他还在床上，睡意蒙眬。
“你好早啊，亨利，”他说。
“我搭早车来的。”
“这撤退究竟是怎么一回事啊？你是不是在前线？抽根烟吧？烟就在桌上那盒子里。”他的卧房是个大房间，一张床靠墙放着，房间的另一边放着一架钢琴、一张梳妆台和一张桌子。我坐在床边的椅子上。西蒙斯靠坐在枕头上抽烟。
“我陷入困境了，西姆，”我说。
“我也是，”他说。“我经常陷入困境。你不抽根烟吗？”“不，”我说。“到瑞士去要办什么手续？”
“你吗？意大利人根本不让你出国境。”
“是的。这我知道。但是瑞士人呢。他们怎么样？”
“他们拘留你。”
“这我也知道。不过其中的奥妙是什么？”
“没什么。很简单。你哪儿都可以去。不过得先打个报告什么的。你为什么问？你是要逃避吗？”“还不大清楚。”
“你不想告诉我就不必说。不过这事一定怪有趣。这里什么事都没有。
我在皮阿辰扎演唱，失败得可惨啊。”
“非常抱歉。”
“是啊，我失败得很惨。但我唱得好。我要在这里的丽丽阁再试它一次。”
“我希望去听听。”
“你太客气了。你不是说你搞得一团糟了吗？”
“这还难说。”
“你不想告诉我，就不必说。你怎么离开那该死的前线的？”“我再也不干了。”
“好小子。我一向知道你是有头脑的。有没有我可以帮你忙的地方？”
“你本来就很忙了。”
“哪里，亲爱的亨利。一点儿不忙。什么事我都乐意做。”“你身材大小跟我差不多。可否劳驾上街去给我买一套平民服装？我本来有衣服，可是都放在罗马。”
“你果真在罗马住过？那是个脏地方。你怎么会跑到那儿去住？”“我本来想当建筑师。”
“那儿不是学建筑的地方。你不必买衣服。你要什么衣服，我全给你。我把你好好打扮一下，出去一定大成功。你上那梳妆室去。里边有个衣柜。你要什么尽管拿。老朋友，你用不到买衣服。”
① 意语：“和平万岁！”
“我看还是买的好，西姆。”
“老朋友，我把衣服送给你，比出去买衣服方便多了。你有护照没有？没有护照可寸步难行啊。”
“有。我的护照还在。”
“那么还是换衣服吧，老朋友，换好了就动身往老赫尔维西亚②去吧。”
“事情并不这样简单。我得先上施特雷沙去。”
“那太理想了，老朋友。只消乘条船过湖就到。要是我不演出的话，我就陪你去。我还是会去的。”
“你可以学唱瑞士山歌。”
“老朋友，我早晚要学唱山歌的。不过我唱歌真的还很行。怪就怪在这里。”
“我敢打赌你是能唱的。”
他躺倒在床上，抽着烟卷。
“你下的赌注可别太大。不过我倒是能唱的。说来怪滑稽的，我还是能唱。我喜欢唱。你听。”他扯开喉咙唱起《非洲女》①来，脖子胀得很粗，血管突出。“我能唱，”他说。“不管他们喜欢不喜欢。”我望望窗外。“我下去打发马车走吧。”
“等你回来，老朋友，我们一同吃早饭。”他下了床，伸直身子，来个深呼吸，开始做早操。我下楼付帐打发马车走了。
② 意语：“回家去！”
① 马根塔门是米兰的西门。
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BOOK FOUR CHAPTER 34
In civilian clothes I felt a masquerader. I had been in uniform a long time and I missed the feeling of being held by your clothes. The trousers felt very floppy. I had bought a ticket at Milan for Stresa. I had also bought a new hat. I could not wear Sim's hat but his clothes were fine. They smelled of tobacco and as I sat in the compartment and looked out the window the new hat felt very new and the clothes very old. I myself felt as sad as the wet Lombard country that was outside through the window. There were some aviators in the compartment who did not think much of me. They avoided looking at me and were very scornful of a civilian my age. I did not feel insulted. In the old days I would have insulted them and picked a fight. They got off at Gallarate and I was glad to be alone. I had the paper but I did not read it because I did not want to read about the war. I was going to forget the war. I had made a separate peace. I felt damned lonely and was glad when the train got to Stresa.
At the station I had expected to see the porters from the hotels but there was no one. The season had been over a long time and no one met the train. I got down from the train with my bag, it was Sim's bag, and very light to carry, being empty except for two shirts, and stood under the roof of the station in the rain while the train went on. I found a man in the station and asked him if he knew what hotels were open. The Grand-Hotel & des Isles Borroms was open and several small hotels that stayed open all the year. I started in the rain for the Isles Borroms carrying my bag. I saw a carriage coming down the street and signalled to the driver. It was better to arrive in a carriage. We drove up to the carriage entrance of the big hotel and the concierge came out with an umbrella and was very polite.
I took a good room. It was very big and light and looked out on the lake. The clouds were down over the lake but it would be beautiful with the sunlight. I was expecting my wife, I said. There was a big double bed, a _letto matrimoniale_ with a satin coverlet. The hotel was very luxurious. I went down the long halls, down the wide stairs, through the rooms to the bar. I knew the barman and sat on a high stool and ate salted almonds and potato chips. The martini felt cool and clean.
"What are you doing here in _borghese?_" the barman asked after he had mixed a second martini.
"I am on leave. Convalescing-leave."
"There is no one here. I don't know why they keep the hotel open."
"Have you been fishing?"
"I've caught some beautiful pieces. Trolling this time of year you catch some beautiful pieces."
"Did you ever get the tobacco I sent?"
"Yes. Didn't you get my card?"
I laughed. I had not been able to get the tobacco. It was American pipe-tobacco that he wanted, but my relatives had stopped sending it or it was being held up. Anyway it never came.
"I'll get some somewhere," I said. "Tell me have you seen two English girls in the town? They came here day before yesterday."
"They are not at the hotel."
"They are nurses."
"I have seen two nurses. Wait a minute, I will find out where they are."
"One of them is my wife," I said. "I have come here to meet her."
"The other is my wife."
"I am not joking."
"pardon my stupid joke," he said. "I did not understand." He went away and was gone quite a little while. I ate olives, salted almonds and potato chips and looked at myself in civilian clothes in the mirror behind the bar. The bartender came back. "They are at the little hotel near the station," he said.
"How about some sandwiches?"
"I'll ring for some. You understand there is nothing here, now there are no people."
"Isn't there really any one at all?"
"Yes. There are a few people."
The sandwiches came and I ate three and drank a couple more martinis. I had never tasted anything so cool and clean. They made me feel civilized. I had had too much red wine, bread, cheese, bad coffee and grappa. I sat on the high stool before the pleasant mahogany, the brass and the mirrors and did not think at all. The barman asked me some question.
"Don't talk about the war," I said. The war was a long way away. Maybe there wasn't any war. There was no war here. Then I realized it was over for me. But I did not have the feeling that it was really over. I had the feeling of a boy who thinks of what is happening at a certain hour at the schoolhouse from which he has played truant.
Catherine and Helen Ferguson were at supper when I came to their hotel. Standing in the hallway I saw them at table. Catherine's face was away from me and I saw the line of her hair and her cheek and her lovely neck and shoulders. Ferguson was talking. She stopped when I came in.
"My God," she said.
"Hello," I said.
"Why it's you!" Catherine said. Her face lighted up. She looked too happy to believe it. I kissed her. Catherine blushed and I sat down at the table.
"You're a fine mess," Ferguson said. "What are you doing here? Have you eaten?"
"No." The girl who was serving the meal came in and I told her to bring a plate for me. Catherine looked at me all the time, her eyes happy.
"What are you doing in mufti?" Ferguson asked.
"I'm in the Cabinet."
"You're in some mess."
"Cheer up, Fergy. Cheer up just a little."
"I'm not cheered by seeing you. I know the mess you've gotten this girl into. You're no cheerful sight to me."
Catherine smiled at me and touched me with her foot under the table.
"No one got me in a mess, Fergy. I get in my own messes."
"I can't stand him," Ferguson said. "He's done nothing but ruin you with his sneaking Italian tricks. Americans are worse than Italians."
"The Scotch are such a moral people," Catherine said.
"I don't mean that. I mean his Italian sneakiness."
"Am I sneaky, Fergy?"
"You are. You're worse than sneaky. You're like a snake. A snake with an Italian uniform: with a cape around your neck."
"I haven't got an Italian uniform now."
"That's just another example of your sneakiness. You had a love affair all summer and got this girl with child and now I suppose you'll sneak off."
I smiled at Catherine and she smiled at me.
"We'll both sneak off," she said.
"You're two of the same thing," Ferguson said. "I'm ashamed of you, Catherine Barkley. You have no shame and no honor and you're as sneaky as he is."
"Don't, Fergy," Catherine said and patted her hand. "Don't denounce me. You know we like each other."
"Take your hand away," Ferguson said. Her face was red. "If you had any shame it would be different. But you're God knows how many months gone with child and you think it's a joke and are all smiles because your seducer's come back. You've no shame and no feelings." She began to cry. Catherine went over and put her arm around her. As she stood comforting Ferguson, I could see no change in her figure.
"I don't care," Ferguson sobbed. "I think it's dreadful."
"There, there, Fergy," Catherine comforted her. "I'll be ashamed. Don't cry, Fergy. Don't cry, old Fergy."
"I'm not crying," Ferguson sobbed. "I'm not crying. Except for the awful thing you've gotten into." She looked at me. "I hate you," she said. "She can't make me not hate you. You dirty sneaking American Italian." Her eyes and nose were red with crying.
Catherine smiled at me.
"Don't you smile at him with your arm around me."
"You're unreasonable, Fergy."
"I know it," Ferguson sobbed. "You mustn't mind me, either of you. I'm so upset. I'm not reasonable. I know it. I want you both to be happy."
"We're happy," Catherine said. "You're a sweet Fergy."
Ferguson cried again. "I don't want you happy the way you are. Why don't you get married? You haven't got another wife have you?"
"No," I said. Catherine laughed.
"It's nothing to laugh about," Ferguson said. "plenty of them have other wives."
"We'll be married, Fergy," Catherine said, "if it will please you."
"Not to please me. You should want to be married."
"We've been very busy."
"Yes. I know. Busy making babies." I thought she was going to cry again but she went into bitterness instead. "I suppose you'll go off with him now to-night?"
"Yes," said Catherine. "If he wants me."
"What about me?"
"Are you afraid to stay here alone?"
"Yes, I am."
"Then I'll stay with you."
"No, go on with him. Go with him right away. I'm sick of seeing both of you."
"We'd better finish dinner."
"No. Go right away."
"Fergy, be reasonable."
"I say get out right away. Go away both of you."
"Let's go then," I said. I was sick of Fergy.
"You do want to go. You see you want to leave me even to eat dinner alone. I've always wanted to go to the Italian lakes and this is how it is. Oh, Oh," she sobbed, then looked at Catherine and choked.
"We'll stay till after dinner," Catherine said. "And I'll not leave you alone if you want me to stay. I won't leave you alone, Fergy."
"No. No. I want you to go. I want you to go." She wiped her eyes. "I'm so unreasonable. please don't mind me."
The girl who served the meal had been upset by all the crying. Now as she brought in the next course she seemed relieved that things were better.
That night at the hotel, in our room with the long empty hall outside and our shoes outside the door, a thick carpet on the floor of the room, outside the windows the rain falling and in the room light and pleasant and cheerful, then the light out and it exciting with smooth sheets and the bed comfortable, feeling that we had come home, feeling no longer alone, waking in the night to find the other one there, and not gone away; all other things were unreal. We slept when we were tired and if we woke the other one woke too so one was not alone. Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others. It has only happened to me like that once. I have been alone while I was with many girls and that is the way that you can be most lonely. But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together. I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started. But with Catherine there was almost no difference in the night except that it was an even better time. If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.
I remember waking in the morning. Catherine was asleep and the sunlight was coming in through the window. The rain had stopped and I stepped out of bed and across the floor to the window. Down below were the gardens, bare now but beautifully regular, the gravel paths, the trees, the stone wall by the lake and the lake in the sunlight with the mountains beyond. I stood at the window looking out and when I turned away I saw Catherine was awake and watching me.
"How are you, darling?" she said. "Isn't it a lovely day?"
"How do you feel?"
"I feel very well. We had a lovely night."
"Do you want breakfast?"
She wanted breakfast. So did I and we had it in bed, the November sunlight coming in the window, and the breakfast tray across my lap.
"Don't you want the paper? You always wanted the paper in the hospital?"
"No," I said. "I don't want the paper now."
"Was it so bad you don't want even to read about it?"
"I don't want to read about it."
"I wish I had been with you so I would know about it too."
"I'll tell you about it if I ever get it straight in my head."
"But won't they arrest you if they catch you out of uniform?"
"They'll probably shoot me."
"Then we'll not stay here. We'll get out of the country."
"I'd thought something of that."
"We'll get out. Darling, you shouldn't take silly chances. Tell me how did you come from Mestre to Milan?"
"I came on the train. I was in uniform then."
"Weren't you in danger then?"
"Not much. I had an old order of movement. I fixed the dates on it in Mestre."
"Darling, you're liable to be arrested here any time. I won't have it. It's silly to do something like that. Where would we be if they took you off?"
"Let's not think about it. I'm tired of thinking about it."
"What would you do if they came to arrest you?"
"Shoot them."
"You see how silly you are, I won't let you go out of the hotel until we leave here."
"Where are we going to go?"
"please don't be that way, darling. We'll go wherever you say. But please find some place to go right away."
"Switzerland is down the lake, we can go there."
"That will be lovely."
It was clouding over outside and the lake was darkening.
"I wish we did not always have to live like criminals," I said.
"Darling, don't be that way. You haven't lived like a criminal very long. And we never live like criminals. We're going to have a fine time."
"I feel like a criminal. I've deserted from the army."
"Darling, please be sensible. It's not deserting from the army. It's only the Italian army."
I laughed. "You're a fine girl. Let's get back into bed. I feel fine in bed."
A little while later Catherine said, "You don't feel like a criminal do you?"
"No," I said. "Not when I'm with you."
"You're such a silly boy," she said. "But I'll look after you. Isn't it splendid, darling, that I don't have any morning-sickness?"
"It's grand."
"You don't appreciate what a fine wife you have. But I don't care. I'll get you some place where they can't arrest you and then we'll have a lovely time."
"Let's go there right away."
"We will, darling. I'll go any place any time you wish."
"Let's not think about anything."
"All right."

第四部 第三十四章
我穿上平民服装，觉得好像是个参加化装跳舞会的人。军装穿久了，现在身子不再裹得紧紧的，仿佛若有所失。特别是那条裤子，穿在身上，觉得松松垮垮。我在米兰买了一张到施特雷沙去的车票。我还买了一顶新帽子。西姆的帽子我不能戴，他的衣服倒是挺不错的。衣服带有烟草味，当我坐在车厢里望着窗外时，我觉得帽子崭新，衣服很旧。我觉得自己很忧郁，正像车窗外伦巴第区那片濡湿的乡野。车厢里有几个飞行员，他们不大瞧得起我。他们目光避开，不来看我，很藐视我这种年纪的人还在当平民。我倒不觉得受了侮辱。要是在从前，我准会侮辱他们一下，挑动他们干一架。他们在加拉剌蒂下了车，剩下我一个人，也乐得安静。我身边有报纸，但我不看，因为我不想知道战事。我要忘掉战争。我单独媾和了。我觉得异常寂寞，所以车子到施特雷沙时，心中很高兴。
到车站时，我等待旅馆兜揽生意的伙计，但是一个都没有出现。旅游季节早已过了，没人来接火车。我提着小提包下了火车，这小提包是西姆的，提起来很轻，因为里边没有什么东西，只有两件衬衫。我在车站屋檐下躲雨，看着火车开走了。我在站上找到一个人，问他什么旅馆还在开业。巴罗美群岛①大旅馆还开着，还有几家小旅馆是一年四季都营业的。我提着小提包冒雨上那大旅馆去。我看见有一部马车从街上驶过来，便向车夫打招呼。乘着马车上旅馆，比较有派头。车子赶到大旅馆停车处的入口，门房连忙打着伞出来迎接，非常有礼貌。
我开了一个好房间。房间又大又亮，面临着湖上①。湖上现在罩着云，不过阳光一出来，一定很美丽。我对旅馆的人说，我在等待我的太太。房间里摆有一张双人大床，那种燕尔新婚的大床，上面铺着缎子床罩。旅馆十分奢华。我走下长廊和宽阔的楼梯，穿过几个房间，到了酒吧间。那酒保我本来就认得，我坐在一只高凳上，吃吃咸杏仁和炸马铃薯片。马丁尼鸡尾酒又凉爽又纯净。
“你穿着平民服装在这儿做什么？”酒保给我调好了第二杯马丁尼后，问道。
“休假。疗养休假。”
“这儿一个人都没有。我就不懂旅馆为什么还开着。”
“近来钓鱼吗？”
“钓到了一些很好的鱼。每年这个季节，垂钩钓鱼都可以钓到一些很好的。”
“我送给你的烟草收到没有？”
“收到了。你可曾收到我的明信片？”
我笑起来。烟草我根本弄不到。他要的是美国板烟丝，但是不晓得是我亲戚不再寄来呢，还是在什么地方给扣留了。无论如何，我没收到，更没法子转寄给他。
“我在什么地方总还能弄到一点的，”我说。“告诉我，你可曾见到过城里来了两位英国姑娘？她们是前天才到的。”
① 这是瑞士的拉丁文名称。
①《非洲女》是德国音乐家梅耶贝尔（1791—1864）所编的五幕歌剧，写葡萄牙探险家达·伽马的事迹。
“她们不住这旅馆。”
“两人都是护士。”
“我倒见过两位护士。等一等，我给你打听去。”
“其中有一位是我的妻子，”我说。“我特为上这儿来会她。”“另外一位是我的妻子。”
“我并不是在说笑话。”
“请原谅我的胡闹，”他说。“我把你的话听错了。”他去了好一会。
我吃吃橄榄、咸杏仁和炸马铃薯片，对着酒吧后边的镜子，照照穿着平民服装的我。酒保踅回来了。“她们住在车站附近的小旅馆里，”他说。“来点三明治吧？”
“我按铃叫他们拿点来。你知道，这里什么东西都没有，因为连客人也没有。”
“真的连一个都没有吗？”
“有。只有几位。”
三明治送来了，我吃了三块，再喝了两杯马丁尼。我从来没有喝过这样凉爽纯净的酒。喝了以后，叫我觉得人都变文明了。我过去吃喝红葡萄酒、面包、干酪、劣质咖啡和格拉巴酒，吃喝得太多了。我坐在高凳上，面对着那悦目的桃花心木的柜台、黄铜装饰和镜子等等，心中全不思想。酒保问了我几个问题。
“不谈战争，”我说。战争离我已很遥远。也许根本并没有战争。这儿并没有战争。随后我发觉，战争对我个人来说，已经结束了。但是我又并不觉得有真正结束了的感觉。我的心情就好比一个逃学的学生，正在思量学校里在某一钟点在搞什么活动。
我到那小旅馆时，凯瑟琳和海伦·弗格逊正在吃晚饭。我站在门廊上，看见她们坐在饭桌边。凯瑟琳的脸背着我，我看得见她头发的轮廓、她的面颊、她那可爱的脖子和肩膀。弗格逊正在说话。她一看见我进来就停了嘴。
“我的上帝啊，”她说。
“你好，”我说。
“原来是你啊！”凯瑟琳说。她的脸孔光亮起来。她快乐得好像不敢相信这是真的。我亲亲她。凯瑟琳红了脸，我就在桌边坐下。“你这一团槽的，”弗格逊说。“你来这儿做什么？吃了饭没有？”“没有。”伺候开饭的姑娘进来了，我吩咐她多开一客。凯瑟琳目不转睛地看着我，快乐幸福。
“你为什么穿便服？”弗格逊问。
“我现在入内阁了。”
“你一定出事了。”
“高兴起来吧，弗基。稍微高兴一点。”
“我看见你可不觉得高兴。我知道你给这姑娘找的麻烦。见到你这人可没法子叫我愉快。”
“没有人给我找什么麻烦，弗基。是我自己找的。”
凯瑟琳对我笑笑，在桌下用脚踢了我一下。
“他叫我受不了，”弗格逊说。“他对你一无好处，只是用他那套鬼鬼祟祟的意大利伎俩毁了你。美国人比意大利人更坏。”
“倒是苏格兰人才讲道德呢，”凯瑟琳说。
“我不是这个意思。我是说他那意大利式的鬼鬼祟祟。”
“我鬼鬼祟祟吗，弗基？”
“你鬼鬼祟祟。你比鬼鬼祟祟还要坏。你就像条蛇。披着意军军装的蛇，脖子上披着一件披肩。”
“我现在可没穿意军军装啊。”
“这正是你那鬼鬼祟祟的又一例证。整个夏天你闹恋爱，叫这姑娘怀了孕，现在大概你想溜走啦。”
我对凯瑟琳笑笑，她也对我笑笑。
“我们一块儿溜走，”她说。
“你们俩本是一路货，”弗格逊说。“凯瑟琳·巴克莱，我真替你害臊。你不怕难为情，不顾名誉，而且你就像他一样的鬼鬼祟祟。”
“别这样讲，弗基，”凯瑟琳说，轻轻地拍拍她的手。“别责难我。你知道你我是好朋友。”
“挪开你的手，”弗格逊说。她脸孔涨红了。“要是你知道难为情，还有话说。但是天知道你怀了几个月的孩子，还当做儿戏，还是满脸笑容，无非因为勾引你的汉子回来了。你不知耻，也没有情感。”她开始哭起来。凯瑟琳走过去，用臂膀搂住她。她站着安慰弗格逊的时候，我看不出她身体外形有什么变化。
“我不管，”弗格逊呜咽地说。“我以为这太可怕了。”
“好啦，好啦，弗基，”凯瑟琳安慰她说。“我知耻就是了。别哭，弗基。别哭，好弗基。”
“我不在哭，”弗格逊呜咽地说。“我不在哭。只是因为你闹出了这可怕的乱子。”她看着我。“我恨你，”她说。“她没法叫我不恨你。你这卑鄙鬼祟的美国意大利佬。”她的眼睛和鼻子都哭红了。
凯瑟琳对我笑笑。
“不许你一边抱着我，一边对他笑。”
“你太不讲理了，弗基。”
“我知道，”弗格逊呜咽着说。“你们俩都不要理我。我心里太烦了。我不讲理。这我知道。我要你们俩都快乐幸福。”
“我们现在就快乐嘛，”凯瑟琳说。“你这甜蜜可爱的弗基。”弗格逊又哭起来。“我要的不是你们这一种快乐。你们为什么不结婚？难道你另有妻子吗？”
“没有，”我说。凯瑟琳大笑。
“这不是可笑的事，”弗格逊说。“有许多人都另有老婆的。”“我们就结婚好啦，弗基，”凯瑟琳说。“如果这样能叫你喜欢的话。”“不是为了叫我喜欢。你们本人应该有结婚的要求。”
“我们太忙了。”
“是的。我知道。忙于制造小孩。”我以为她又要哭起来了，想不到她只是改用了一种辛辣的语调。“我看，你今天夜里就会跟他去吧？”“是的，”凯瑟琳说。“倘若他要我去的话。”
“我怎么办呢？”
“你害怕单独住在这里吗？”
“是，我怕。”
“那么我就陪你好了。”
“不，你还是跟他去。立即跟他去。你们俩都叫我看得厌烦透了。”“还是先把饭吃完吧。”
“不。立刻就去。”
“弗基，讲点儿道理吧。”
“我说立刻就去。你们俩都走。”
“那就走吧，”我说。弗基叫我讨厌。
“你们真要走啦。你们看，你们甚至想撇下我，让我一个人吃饭。我一直想看看意大利的湖，现在倒落得这个样子。噢，噢，”她呜呜咽咽，随后望一望凯瑟琳，又哽咽起来了。
“我们呆到饭后再说吧，”凯瑟琳说。“倘若你要我陪你，我就不走，我不会丢下你一个人的，弗基。”
“不。不。我要你走。我要你走。”她擦擦眼睛。“我太不讲理了。请不要见怪。”
伺候开饭的姑娘给方才一顿哭弄得怪不舒服。现在她把下一道菜端进来，看来因为情况好转了而心安一点。
那天夜晚在旅馆里，房间外边是一条又长又空的走廊，门外边放着我们的鞋子，房间里铺着厚厚的地毯，窗外下着雨，房间里则灯光明亮，快乐愉快，后来灯灭了，床单平滑，床铺舒服，一片兴奋，那时的心情，好比我们回了家，不再感觉孤独，夜间醒来，爱人仍在，并没有发觉梦醒人去；除了这以外，一切事物都是不真实的。我们疲乏的时候就睡觉，一个醒来，另一个也就醒来，所以不会感觉孤独寂寞。一个男人，或是一个女郎，虽然相爱，却时常想要单独安静一下，而一分开，必然招惹对方妒忌，但是我可以实实在在地说，我们两人从来没有这种感觉。我们在一起的时候，也有孤独的感觉，那是与世人格格不相入的孤独。这种经验我一生中只有过一次。我和好些女人在一起的时候，总感觉孤独寂寞，而且你最寂寞就是在这种时候。但是我和凯瑟琳在一起，从来不寂寞，从来不害怕。我知道夜里和白天是不同的：一切事物都不相同，夜里的事在白天没法子说明，因为那些事在白天根本就不存在，而对于寂寞的人来说，黑夜是极可怕的时间，只要他们的寂寞一开始。但是我和凯瑟琳的生活在夜间和白天几乎没有分别，而夜间只有更美妙些。倘若有人带着这么多的勇气到世界上来，世界为要打垮他们，必然加以杀害，到末了也自然就把他们杀死了。世界打垮了每一个人，于是有许多人事后在被打垮之余显得很坚强。但是世界对打垮不了的人就加以杀害。世界杀害最善良的人，最温和的人，最勇敢的人，不偏不倚，一律看待。倘若你不是这三类人，你迟早当然也得一死，不过世界并不特别着急要你的命。
我记得第二天早晨醒来的情形。凯瑟琳还睡着，阳光从窗口照进房来。雨已停了，我下床走到窗口。窗下有一片花园，虽然现在草木凋零，仍旧整齐美丽，有沙砾小径、树木、湖边的石墙和阳光下的湖，湖的另一边层峦叠嶂。我站在窗边望了一会，当我掉转头来时，凯瑟琳已经醒了，正在看我。
“你好啊，亲爱的？”她说。“天气不是好得可爱吗？”
“你觉得怎么样？”
“很好。我们过了一个可爱的夜晚。”
“你想吃早饭吗？”
她想吃。我也想吃，我们就在床上吃，十一月的阳光从窗外射进来，早饭的托盘搁在我的膝上。
“你要看报吗？你在医院时老是要报看。”
“不，”我说。“现在我不看了。”
“战事果真糟到你连看都不想看吗？”
“我不想看报上登载的消息。”
“我倒希望当初和你在一起，能够多少知道一点消息呢。”“等我脑子里搞清楚以后再告诉你吧。”
“人家发觉你不穿军装，不会逮捕你吗？”
“大概要熗毙我。”
“那么我们就不要呆在这里。我们出国去。”
“这我也多少考虑过。”
“我们还是出国吧。亲爱的，你不该这样胡乱冒险。告诉我，你怎样从美斯特列到米兰的？”
“乘火车。那时候我还穿军装。”
“那时你没危险吗？”
“没多大危险。我本有张旧的调动证。我在美斯特列把日期改了一改。”
“亲爱的，你在这儿随时都有被捕的危险。我不能让你这样。这么做太傻了。倘若人家把你抓了去，我们怎么办呢？”
“这事别去想吧。我已经想得厌倦了。”
“要是人家来逮捕你，你怎么办呢？”
“我开熗。”
“你瞧你多么傻，除非我们真的要走，我不让你走出这旅馆一步。”“那么我们到哪儿去呢？”
“请你别这样子，亲爱的。你说什么地方，我们就上什么地方去。请你立刻找个可以去的地方。”
“湖的北边是瑞士，我们就上那儿去吧。”
“那好极了。”
外面阴云密布，湖上阴暗下来。
“我希望我们不至于老是过着逃犯的生活，”我说。
“亲爱的，别这样。你过逃犯的生活还没有多久。况且我们不会永远像逃犯般生活的。我们将过快活的日子。”
“我觉得像是个逃犯。我从军队里逃了出来。”
“亲爱的，请你不要乱讲。那不算逃兵。那只是意大利军队。”我笑了起来。“你是个好姑娘。我们回到床上去吧。我在床上就好过。”过了一会儿，凯瑟琳说，“你不觉得像逃犯了吧？”
“对，”我说。“同你在一起就不觉得了。”
“你真是个傻孩子，”她说。“但是我会照料你的。亲爱的，我早上并不想吐，这岂不是好消息吗？”
“好极了。”
“你还不晓得你的妻子多好哩。我也无所谓。我要给你找个地方，人家没法逮捕你，然后我们可以快活幸福地过日子。”
“我们立刻就去吧。”
“我们要去的，亲爱的。随便什么地方，随便什么时候，你要去我就去。”
“我们现在别想任何事吧。”
“好的。”
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这一段开心的日子请你勿忘
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BOOK FOUR CHAPTER 35
Catherine went along the lake to the little hotel to see Ferguson and I sat in the bar and read the papers. There were comfortable leather chairs in the bar and I sat in one of them and read until the barman came in. The army had not stood at the Tagliamento. They were falling back to the piave. I remembered the piave. The railroad crossed it near San Dona going up to the front. It was deep and slow there and quite narrow. Down below there were mosquito marshes and canals. There were some lovely villas. Once, before the war, going up to Cortina D'Ampezzo I had gone along it for several hours in the hills. Up there it looked like a trout stream, flowing swiftly with shallow stretches and pools under the shadow of the rocks. The road turned off from it at Cadore. I wondered how the army that was up there would come down. The barman came in.
"Count Greffi was asking for you," he said.
"Who?"
"Count Greffi. You remember the old man who was here when you were here before."
"Is he here?"
"Yes, he's here with his niece. I told him you were here. He wants you to play billiards."
"Where is he?"
"He's taking a walk."
"How is he?"
"He's younger than ever. He drank three champagne cocktails last night before dinner."
"How's his billiard game?"
"Good. He beat me. When I told him you were here he was very pleased. There's nobody here for him to play with."
Count Greffi was ninety-four years old. He had been a contemporary of Metternich and was an old man with white hair and mustache and beautiful manners. He had been in the diplomatic service of both Austria and Italy and his birthday parties were the great social event of Milan. He was living to be one hundred years old and played a smoothly fluent game of billiards that contrasted with his own ninety-four-year-old brittleness. I had met him when I had been at Stresa once before out of season and while we played billiards we drank champagne. I thought it was a splendid custom and he gave me fifteen points in a hundred and beat me.
"Why didn't you tell me he was here?"
"I forgot it."
"Who else is here?"
"No one you know. There are only six people altogether."
"What are you doing now?"
"Nothing."
"Come on out fishing."
"I could come for an hour."
"Come on. Bring the trolling line."
The barman put on a coat and we went out. We went down and got a boat and I rowed while the barman sat in the stern and let out the line with a spinner and a heavy sinker on the end to troll for lake trout. We rowed along the shore, the barman holding the line in his hand and giving it occasional jerks forward. Stresa looked very deserted from the lake. There were the long rows of bare trees, the big hotels and the closed villas. I rowed across to Isola Bella and went close to the walls, where the water deepened sharply, and you saw the rock wall slanting down in the clear water, and then up and along to the fisherman's island. The sun was under a cloud and the water was dark and smooth and very cold. We did not have a strike though we saw some circles on the water from rising fish.
I rowed up opposite the fisherman's island where there were boats drawn up and men were mending nets.
"Should we get a drink?"
"All right."
I brought the boat up to the stone pier and the barman pulled in the line, coiling it on the bottom of the boat and hooking the spinner on the edge of the gunwale. I stepped out and tied the boat. We went into a little caf? sat at a bare wooden table and ordered vermouth.
"Are you tired from rowing?"
"I'll row back," he said.
"I like to row."
"Maybe if you hold the line it will change the luck."
"All right."
"Tell me how goes the war."
"Rotten."
"I don't have to go. I'm too old, like Count Greffi."
"Maybe you'll have to go yet."
"Next year they'll call my class. But I won't go."
"What will you do?"
"Get out of the country. I wouldn't go to war. I was at the war once in Abyssinia. Nix. Why do you go?"
"I don't know. I was a fool."
"Have another vermouth?"
"All right."
The barman rowed back. We trolled up the lake beyond Stresa and then down not far from shore. I held the taut line and felt the faint pulsing of the spinner revolving while I looked at the dark November water of the lake and the deserted shore. The barman rowed with long strokes and on the forward thrust of the boat the line throbbed. Once I had a strike: the line hardened suddenly and jerked back. I pulled and felt the live weight of the trout and then the line throbbed again. I had missed him.
"Did he feel big?"
"pretty big."
"Once when I was out trolling alone I had the line in my teeth and one struck and nearly took my mouth out."
"The best way is to have it over your leg," I said. "Then you feel it and don't lose your teeth."
I put my hand in the water. It was very cold. We were almost opposite the hotel now.
"I have to go in," the barman said, "to be there for eleven o'clock. L'heure du cocktail."
"All right."
I pulled in the line and wrapped it on a stick notched at each end. The barman put the boat in a little slip in the stone wall and locked it with a chain and padlock.
"Any time you want it," he said, "I'll give you the key."
"Thanks."
We went up to the hotel and into the bar. I did not want another drink so early in the morning so I went up to our room. The maid had just finished doing the room and Catherine was not back yet. I lay down on the bed and tried to keep from thinking.
When Catherine came back it was all right again. Ferguson was downstairs, she said. She was coming to lunch.
"I knew you wouldn't mind," Catherine said.
"No," I said.
"What's the matter, darling?"
"I don't know."
"I know. You haven't anything to do. All you have is me and I go away."
"That's true."
"I'm sorry, darling. I know it must be a dreadful feeling to have nothing at all suddenly."
"My life used to be full of everything," I said. "Now if you aren't with me I haven't a thing in the world."
"But I'll be with you. I was only gone for two hours. Isn't there anything you can do?"
"I went fishing with the barman."
"Wasn't it fun?"
"Yes."
"Don't think about me when I'm not here."
"That's the way I worked it at the front. But there was something to do then."
"Othello with his occupation gone," she teased.
"Othello was a nigger," I said. "Besides, I'm not jealous. I'm just so in love with you that there isn't anything else."
"Will you be a good boy and be nice to Ferguson?"
"I'm always nice to Ferguson unless she curses me."
"Be nice to her. Think how much we have and she hasn't anything."
"I don't think she wants what we have."
"You don't know much, darling, for such a wise boy."
"I'll be nice to her."
"I know you will. You're so sweet."
"She won't stay afterward, will she?"
"No. I'll get rid of her."
"And then we'll come up here."
"Of course. What do you think I want to do?"
We went downstairs to have lunch with Ferguson. She was very impressed by the hotel and the splendor of the dining-room. We had a good lunch with a couple of bottles of white capri. Count Greffi came into the dining-room and bowed to us. His niece, who looked a little like my grandmother, was with him. I told Catherine and Ferguson about him and Ferguson was very impressed. The hotel was very big and grand and empty but the food was good, the wine was very pleasant and finally the wine made us all feel very well. Catherine had no need to feel any better. She was very happy. Ferguson became quite cheerful. I felt very well myself. After lunch Ferguson went back to her hotel. She was going to lie down for a while after lunch she said.
Along late in the afternoon some one knocked on our door.
"Who is it?"
"The Count Greffi wishes to know if you will play billiards with him."
I looked at my watch; I had taken it off and it was under the pillow.
"Do you have to go, darling?" Catherine whispered.
"I think I'd better." The watch was a quarter-past four o'clock. Out loud I said, "Tell the Count Greffi I will be in the billiard-room at five o'clock."
At a quarter to five I kissed Catherine good-by and went into the bathroom to dress. Knotting my tie and looking in the glass I looked strange to myself in the civilian clothes. I must remember to buy some more shirts and socks.
"Will you be away a long time?" Catherine asked. She looked lovely in the bed. "Would you hand me the brush?"
I watched her brushing her hair, holding her head so the weight of her hair all came on one side. It was dark outside and the light over the head of the bed shone on her hair and on her neck and shoulders. I went over and kissed her and held her hand with the brush and her head sunk back on the pillow. I kissed her neck and shoulders. I felt faint with loving her so much.
"I don't want to go away."
"I don't want you to go away."
"I won't go then."
"Yes. Go. It's only for a little while and then you'll come back." "We'll have dinner up here."
"Hurry and come back."
I found the Count Greffi in the billiard-room. He was practising strokes, looking very fragile under the light that came down above the billiard table. On a card table a little way beyond the light was a silver icing-bucket with the necks and corks of two champagne bottles showing above the ice. The Count Greffi straightened up when I came toward the table and walked toward me. He put out his hand, "It is such a great pleasure that you are here. You were very kind to come to play with me."
"It was very nice of you to ask me."
"Are you quite well? They told me you were wounded on the Isonzo. I hope you are well again."
"I'm very well. Have you been well?"
"Oh, I am always well. But I am getting old. I detect signs of age now."
"I can't believe it."
"Yes. Do you want to know one? It is easier for me to talk Italian. I discipline myself but I find when I am tired that it is so much easier to talk Italian. So I know I must be getting old."
"We could talk Italian. I am a little tired, too."
"Oh, but when you are tired it will be easier for you to talk English."
"American."
"Yes. American. You will please talk American. It is a delightful language."
"I hardly ever see Americans."
"You must miss them. One misses one's countrymen and especially one's countrywomen. I know that experience. Should we play or are you too tired?"
"I'm not really tired. I said that for a joke. What handicap will you give me?"
"Have you been playing very much?"
"None at all."
"You play very well. Ten points in a hundred?"
"You flatter me."
"Fifteen?"
"That would be fine but you will beat me."
"Should we play for a stake? You always wished to play for a stake."
"I think we'd better."
"All right. I will give you eighteen points and we will play for a franc a point."
He played a lovely game of billiards and with the handicap I was only four ahead at fifty. Count Greffi pushed a button on the wall to ring for the barman.
"Open one bottle please," he said. Then to me, "We will take a little stimulant." The wine was icy cold and very dry and good.
"Should we talk Italian? Would you mind very much? It is my weakness now."
We went on playing, sipping the wine between shots, speaking in Italian, but talking little, concentrated on the game. Count Greffi made his one hundredth point and with the handicap I was only at ninety-four. He smiled and patted me on the shoulder.
"Now we will drink the other bottle and you will tell me about the war." He waited for me to sit down.
"About anything else," I said.
"You don't want to talk about it? Good. What have you been reading?"
"Nothing," I said. "I'm afraid I am very dull."
"No. But you should read."
"What is there written in war-time?"
"There is 'Le Feu' by a Frenchman, Barbusse. There is 'Mr. Britling Sees Through It."
"No, he doesn't."
"What?"
"He doesn't see through it. Those books were at the hospital."
"Then you have been reading?"
"Yes, but nothing any good."
"I thought 'Mr. Britling' a very good study of the English middle-class soul."
"I don't know about the soul."
"poor boy. We none of us know about the soul. Are you Croyant?"
"At night."
Count Greffi smiled and turned the glass with his fingers. "I had expected to become more devout as I grow older but somehow I haven't," he said. "It is a great pity."
"Would you like to live after death?" I asked and instantly felt a fool to mention death. But he did not mind the word.
"It would depend on the life. This life is very pleasant. I would like to live forever," he smiled. "I very nearly have."
We were sitting in the deep leather chairs, the champagne in the ice-bucket and our glasses on the table between us.
"If you ever live to be as old as I am you will find many things strange."
"You never seem old."
"It is the body that is old. Sometimes I am afraid I will break off a finger as one breaks a stick of chalk. And the spirit is no older and not much wiser."
"You are wise."
"No, that is the great fallacy; the wisdom of old men. They do not grow wise. They grow careful."
"perhaps that is wisdom."
"It is a very unattractive wisdom. What do you value most?"
"Some one I love."
"With me it is the same. That is not wisdom. Do you value life?"
"Yes."
"So do I. Because it is all I have. And to give birthday parties," he laughed. "You are probably wiser than I am. You do not give birthday parties."
We both drank the wine.
"What do you think of the war really?" I asked.
"I think it is stupid."
"Who will win it?"
"Italy."
"Why?"
"They are a younger nation."
"Do younger nations always win wars?"
"They are apt to for a time."
"Then what happens?"
"They become older nations."
"You said you were not wise."
"Dear boy, that is not wisdom. That is cynicism."
"It sounds very wise to me."
"It's not particularly. I could quote you the examples on the other side. But it is not bad. Have we finished the champagne?"
"Almost."
"Should we drink some more? Then I must dress."
"perhaps we'd better not now."
"You are sure you don't want more?"
"Yes." He stood up.
"I hope you will be very fortunate and very happy and very, very healthy."
"Thank you. And I hope you will live forever."
"Thank you. I have. And if you ever become devout pray for me if I am dead. I am asking several of my friends to do that. I had expected to become devout myself but it has not come." I thought he smiled sadly but I could not tell. He was so old and his face was very wrinkled, so that a smile used so many lines that all gradations were lost.
"I might become very devout," I said. "Anyway, I will pray for you."
"I had always expected to become devout. All my family died very devout. But somehow it does not come."
"It's too early."
"Maybe it is too late. perhaps I have outlived my religious feeling."
"My own comes only at night."
"Then too you are in love. Do not forget that is a religious feeling."
"You believe so?"
"Of course." He took a step toward the table. "You were very kind to play."
"It was a great pleasure."
"We will walk up stairs together."

第四部 第三十五章
凯瑟琳沿着湖走，往小旅馆去找弗格逊，我则坐在酒吧间里看报。酒吧间里备有舒服的皮椅，我就坐在一只皮椅上看报，一直到酒保来了。原来意军连塔利亚门托河都没守住。他们正在朝皮阿维河退却。我还记得皮阿维河。上前线去时，火车在圣多那附近跨过这条河。那儿河水又深又慢，相当狭窄。河下边是蚊蚋丛生的沼泽和运河。那儿有些可爱的别墅。战前我有一次上科丁那丹佩佐②去，曾在临河的山间走了几小时。从山上望下去，那河道倒像一条出鳟鱼的溪流，水流得很急，有一段段的浅滩，山岩阴影下有水潭。公路到了卡多雷就和河道岔开了。不晓得山岭上的军队撤退
时怎么下来的。酒保来了。
“葛雷非伯爵要找你，”他说。
“谁？”
“葛雷非伯爵。你还记得你上次来这儿碰到的那个老人吧。”
“他在这儿吗？”
“是的，和他的侄女一同来的。我告诉他你来了。他要你和他打弹子。”
“他在哪儿？”
“在散步。”
“他身体怎么样？”
“比从前更年轻啦。昨天夜里晚饭前，他喝了三杯香槟鸡尾酒呢。”
“他的弹子功夫呢？”
“很行。他打败了我。我说你来了，他很高兴。这儿没人跟他打弹子。”
葛雷非伯爵九十四岁了。他是梅特涅①那一辈的人，须发雪白，举止风雅。
他当过奥意两国的外交官，他的生日宴会是米兰社交界的大事。他眼看要活到一百岁，打得一手漂亮爽利的好弹子，与他那九十四岁的脆弱身体适成对比。我从前在施特雷沙碰见他，也是在旅游季节以后，我们边打弹子边喝香槟。这打弹子喝香槟的风俗太好了，当时他每百分让我十五分，还赢了我。
“你为什么不早告诉我他在这里？”
“我忘啦。”
“还有谁？”
“没有你认得的人了。旅馆里一共只有六位客人。”
“你现在有事吗？”
“没事。”
“那么钓鱼去吧。”
“我只能走开一个钟头。”
“来吧。把你的钓鱼线拿来。”
酒保披上一件上衣，我们就走出去。我们走到湖边，上了一条船，我划船，酒保坐在船尾放出线去钓湖上的鳟鱼——线的一头有一个旋转匙形的诱饵和一个沉重的铅锤。我沿着湖岸划船，酒保手里扯着线，时而朝前抖它一抖。从湖上看来，施特雷沙相当荒凉，一长排一长排光秃的树木、一座座大旅馆和关闭的别墅。我把船划出去，横跨湖面，划到美人岛①，紧挨着石壁，在那儿，湖水突然变深了，你看见岩壁在晶莹的湖水中低斜下去，接着我们又朝北划往渔人岛。太阳给一朵云遮住了，湖水黑暗平滑，冷气逼人。我们虽然看见水上有鱼上升时的一些涟漪，但是始终没有鱼来上钩。
② 巴罗美群岛是马焦莱湖上的一名胜地的名字。
① 指瑞士与意大利两国边境上的马焦莱湖。施特雷沙就在湖西。
我把船划到渔人岛对面的地方，那儿靠有几只船，有人在补鱼网。“我们去喝杯酒吧？”
“好的。”
我把船划拢石码头，酒保把钓鱼线收回来，卷好放在船底，把诱饵挂在船舷的上缘。我上了岸，把船拴好。我们走进一家小咖啡店，在一张没铺桌布的木桌边坐下，叫了两杯味美思。
“你船划得累了吧？”
“不累。”
“回去我划，”他说。
“我喜欢划。”
“也许由你来抓住钓线会转运。”
“好吧。”
“告诉我，战争怎么啦？”
“糟透了。”
“我倒不必去，我年纪太大，像葛雷非伯爵一样。”
“说不定你还去哩。”
“明年要征召我们这一级了。但是我不去。”
“那你怎么办？”
“出国去。我不去作战。我从前在阿比西尼亚①打过一次仗。完全没有意义。你为什么参加进去？”
“我不知道。我太傻了。”
“再来杯味美思吧？”
“好。”
酒保划船回去。我们到施特雷沙后边的湖上钓鱼，接着又划到离岸不远的地方试试。我握着绷紧的鱼线，感觉到那旋转中的诱饵在轻微抖动，眼睛望着十一月中的暗淡的湖水和荒凉的湖岸。酒保荡长桨，船每往前一冲，鱼线就跳动一下。一次有一条鱼来咬钩，钓线突然扳紧，往后死抖，我用手去拉，感觉到一条活蹦蹦的鳟鱼的分量，随后钓线又是有规则地跳动着。鱼溜啦。
“是大的吗？”
“相当大。”
“有一次我独自出来钓鱼，我用牙齿咬住钓线，猛不防一条鱼咬钩了，差点把我的嘴巴也扯破。”
“最好的办法还是把钓线绕在你的腿上，”我说。“那样有鱼上钩你既知道，而且用不到掉牙齿。”
我伸手到湖里去。湖水很冷。我们差不多到旅馆的对面了。“我得进去了，”酒保说，“赶十一点的班。鸡尾酒时间。”“好。”我把钓线拉回来，缠在一根棍子上，那棍子两头都有凹槽。酒保把船停放在石墙间的一小片水区中，用铁链和锁锁好。
① 科丁那丹佩佐是意大利北部阿尔卑斯山一冬季运动的胜地。
①梅特涅（1773—1859），奥地利帝国外交大臣，于拿破仑被打败后，组织“神圣同盟”，极力恢复欧洲的封建统治，摧残各民族解放运动和进步力量。
“你什么时候要用，”他说，“我就把钥匙给你。”
“谢谢。”
我们登岸走到旅馆，走进酒吧间。这天早上天还很早，我不想再喝酒，所以就上楼回房间去。侍女刚刚把房间收拾干净，凯瑟琳还没回来。我往床上一躺，什么事都不想。
凯瑟琳回来后，我们又是怡然自得。弗格逊在楼下，她说。她请她来吃中饭。
“我知道你不会在意的，”凯瑟琳说。
“没关系，”我说。
“怎么啦，亲爱的？”
“我不知道。”
“我知道。你闷得慌。你所有的只是我，而我又出去了。”
“这话不错。”
“对不起，亲爱的。一个人忽然失掉了他的一切，我知道那一定是很痛苦的。”
“我的生活本来是非常充实的，”我说。“现在你一不和我在一起，我在世界上就一无所有了。”
“但是我是要和你在一起的。我只出去了两小时啊。你真的完全没事可做吗？”
“我跟酒鱼去了。”
“好玩吗？”
“好玩。”
“我不在的时候不要想我。”
“我在前线时就是这么办的。不过当时正有事情做。”
“你像个丢了职业的奥赛罗①，”她嘲笑我。“奥赛罗可是个黑人，”我说。“况且，我并不嫉妒。我只是爱你太深，对于旁的全没兴趣。”
“你做个好孩子，好好招待弗格逊行吗？”
“我待弗格逊一向很好，只要她别咒骂我。”
“要好好待她。想想我们的生活多么丰富。而她却一无所有。”“我们所有的，她也不见得要吧。”
“你是个聪明人，亲爱的，但你不大懂事。”
“我好好招待她就是啦。”
“我知道你肯的。你太可爱了。”
“饭后她不至于呆下去吧？”
“不会的。我想法子叫她走。”
“饭后我们回这儿楼上来。”
“自然啦。难道说我想的还不是这个？”
我们下楼和弗格逊一同吃中饭。弗格逊对这旅馆和饭厅的富丽堂皇，印象很深。我们吃了顿很好的午餐，还喝了两瓶卡普里白葡萄酒。葛雷非伯爵到饭厅里来，对我们点点头。陪着他的是他的侄女，她那模样有点像我的祖母。我把他的来历告诉了凯瑟琳和弗格逊，弗格逊又是印象很深。旅馆又宏大又空旷，但是饭菜很好，酒也很好，大家喝了酒以后愉快起来。凯瑟琳再也没有别的要求了。她很快乐。弗格逊也相当高兴。我也觉得挺不错。饭后弗格逊回她旅馆去了。她饭后要躺一会儿，她说。那天午后近黄昏时，有人来敲房门。
① 美人岛原只是湖中的一些大岩石，后来经过17 世纪一位巴罗美伯爵加以点缀修建，成为著名名胜地。
“谁呀？”
“葛雷非伯爵问你愿意不愿意陪他打弹子。”
我看看表；我临睡前脱下手表，表放在枕头底下。
“你非去不可吗，亲爱的？”凯瑟琳低声问。
“还是去的好。”表上时间是四点一刻。我大声说：“请你告诉葛雷非伯爵，我五点钟到弹子间来。”
四点三刻时，我吻别了凯瑟琳，走进浴间去穿衣服。我照着镜子结领带时，发觉自己穿着平民服装很怪。我得记着去再买几件衬衫和袜子。“你要去好久吗？”凯瑟琳问。她躺在床上很可爱。“请你把发刷递给我好吗？”
我看着她刷头发，她的头半斜着，头发尽落在一边。外面天已暗了，床头的灯光照在她的头发、脖子和肩膀上。我走过去亲她，握住了她那拿发刷的手，她的头倒在枕头上。我亲着她的脖子和肩膀。我是那么爱她，感到有点昏晕。
“我不想走了。”
“我不想让你走。”
“那么我就不去了。”
“不。去。只是去一会儿，过后就回来。”
“我们就在这儿吃晚饭。”
“快去快来。”
葛雷非伯爵已经在弹子间里。他正在练习打弹子，弹子台顶上的灯光照耀下来，他的身子显得很脆弱。灯光圈外不远的地方有一张打纸牌的桌子，上面摆着一只放冰的银桶，冰块上突出着两瓶香槟酒的瓶颈和瓶塞。我进去往台子走，葛雷非伯爵直起身子朝我迎上来。他伸出手来。“你在这里真是太叫人愉快了。你还赏光和我打弹子，实在太好了。”“谢谢你的邀请。”“你完全恢复了没有？人家告诉我，你在伊孙左河上受了伤。我希望你现在好了。”
“我很好。你好吗？”
“哦，我身体一向是好的。但是我越来越老了。我发觉了一些老年的征象。”
“我不相信。”
“我是老了。给你举个实例吧？我讲意大利语比较不费力。我约束自己，避免讲意大利语，但是我人一累，就觉得讲意大利语轻松得多。所以我知道我老了。”
“我们可以讲意大利语。我也有点累了。”
“哦，不过你累的话，该讲英语比较不费力吧。”
“美国语。”
“是的。美国语。请讲美国语。那是一种可爱的语言。”
“现在我很少见到美国人。”
“那你一定若有所失。见不到同胞不好过，尤其是女同胞。我有过这种体会。我们打弹子吧？要不，你觉得太累？”
“我并不是真的累。不过说说笑话罢了。你让我几分？”
“你近来常常打弹子吗？”
“一次也没有。”
“你的技术本来很不错。一百分让十分吧？”
“你过分夸奖我了。”
“十五分。”
“那很好，不过你还是会打败我的。”
“我们赌一点钱怎么样？你打球一向喜欢下注的。”
“我看还是这么办吧。”
“好。我让你十八分，我们算一分一法郎。”
他打得一手好弹子，虽则他让我十八分，到五十分时我只赢了他四分。葛雷非伯爵按按墙上的电铃，喊酒保来。
“请你开一瓶，”他说。随即转对我说：“我们来点小刺激吧。”酒冰冷，不带甜味，品质醇良。
“我们讲意大利语好吗？你不大在乎吧？现在这是我最大的偏爱了。”
我们继续打弹子，停手时就喝口香槟，用意大利语交谈，不过话也讲得很少，只专心打弹子。葛雷非伯爵打到一百分时，我还只九十四分。他笑笑，拍拍我的肩膀。
“现在我们来喝另一瓶酒，你对我谈谈战事好啦。”他等我先坐下。“谈旁的事吧，”我说。
“你不愿意谈它吗？好。最近你看了什么书？”
“没有什么，”我说。“我这人恐怕太愚蠢了。”
“哪里。不过你应当看看书。”
“战时有什么好书？”
“有个法国人巴比塞，写了本书叫做《火线》②。还有《勃列特林先生看穿了》①。”
“他可并没有看穿。”
“什么？”
“他没有真的看穿。这些书医院里都有。”
“这么说你近来是在看书的吧？”
“看一点，但没什么很好的。”
“依我看，《勃列特林先生》这书，对于英国中产阶级的灵魂，是个很好的分析研究。”
“我可不知道什么是灵魂。”
“可怜的孩子。我们大家都不知道什么是灵魂。你信教吗？”“只在夜里。”
葛雷非伯爵笑笑，用手指把酒杯转动一下。“我本以为年纪越大，一定
更热心信教，但是我并没有这样的变化，”他说。“这真太可惜了。”“你死后还想活下去吗？”我问，话出了口立即觉得自己太糊涂了，竟提起死字。但是他全不介意。
② 阿比西尼亚，现名埃塞俄比亚，在非洲东北部。1896 年意军进犯，结果失败。
① 奥赛罗是莎士比亚同名悲剧中的主人公，是皮肤黝黑的摩尔人，因为误听了埃古的话，杀害了妻子苔丝蒂蒙娜。奥赛罗的职业是军人。
“那要看你现在的生活怎么样。我这一生过得很愉快。我希望能永远活下去，”他笑笑说。“我也差不多算长寿的了。”
我们坐在深深的皮椅里，香槟放在冰桶里，我们的酒杯放在我们中间的小几上。“要是你活到我这样老的年龄，一定会发觉许多事情是奇怪的。”
“你一点也不见老。”
“衰老的是身体。有时我害怕，怕我的一个手指会像粉笔那样断掉。至于精神，倒没有老，也没变得更聪明。”
“你倒是聪明的。”
“不，这是个大谬论；说什么老人富有智慧。人老并不增加智慧。只是越来越小心罢了。”
“这也许就是智慧。”
“这是一种很不讨人喜欢的智慧。你最珍重的是什么？”“我爱的人。”
“我也是。这并不是智慧。你珍重生命吗？”
“珍重的。”
“我也是。因为我所有的只有这个。因此给自己做寿开宴会，”他大笑起来。“你也许比我聪明。你不做寿。”
我们两人都喝一口酒。
“你对战争究竟怎样看法？”我问。
“我认为，是愚蠢的。”
“哪一边会赢呢？”
“意大利。”
“为什么？”
“他们是个比较年轻的国家。”
“年轻的国家必然打胜仗？”
“在相当时期内是这样的。”
“过了那时期又怎么样呢？”
“他们变成老一点的国家了。”
“你还说你没有智慧。”
“好孩子，这不是智慧。这是犬儒主义。”
“我听起来倒是充满智慧。”
“那也并不特别如此。我还可以把反面的例子举出来。不过，这也算不坏就是啦。你的香槟喝完没有？”
“差不多了。”
“要不要再喝一点？过一会儿我就得换衣服去了。”“我们也许不要再喝了吧。”
“你真的不想再喝了？”
“真的。”他站了起来。
“我希望你运气非常好，非常快乐，身体非常非常健康。”“谢谢。我则希望你长生不老。”
“谢谢。我已经是如此了。还有，你以后倘若变得虔诚的话，我死后请替我祷告。这事我已经拜托了好几位朋友。我本以为自己会虔诚起来，可是到底不行。”他似乎苦笑了一下，不过到底笑还是没笑，却很难说。他太老了，满脸皱纹，一笑起来，牵动那么多的皱纹，全然分不出层次。“我可能变得很虔诚，”我说。“无论如何，我为你祷告就是了。”“我一向以为自己会变得虔诚的。我家里的人，死时都很虔诚。但是我到现在还不热心。”
“是时间太早吧。”
“也许太迟了。我大概已经超过了热心信教的年龄。”
“我只在夜里才有宗教情绪。”
“那时你也是处在恋爱中啊。别忘记恋爱也是一种宗教情绪。”“你真的这样相信吗？”
“自然啦。”他朝桌子踏前一步。“你肯来打弹子，真太好了。”“我
也很愉快。”
“我们一同上楼去吧。”
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BOOK FOUR CHAPTER 36
That night there was a storm and I woke to hear the rain lashing the window-panes. It was coming in the open window. Some one had knocked on the door. I went to the door very softly, not to disturb Catherine, and opened it. The barman stood there. He wore his overcoat and carried his wet hat.
"Can I speak to you, Tenente?"
"What's the matter?"
"It's a very serious matter."
I looked around. The room was dark. I saw the water on the floor from the window. "Come in," I said. I took him by the arm into the bathroom; locked the door and put on the light. I sat down on the edge of the bathtub.
"What's the matter, Emilio? Are you in trouble?"
"No. You are, Tenente."
"Yes?"
"They are going to arrest you in the morning."
"Yes?"
"I came to tell you. I was out in the town and I heard them talking in a caf?"
"I see."
He stood there, his coat wet, holding his wet hat and said nothing.
"Why are they going to arrest me?"
"For something about the war."
"Do you know what?"
"No. But I know that they know you were here before as an officer and now you are here out of uniform. After this retreat they arrest everybody."
I thought a minute.
"What time do they come to arrest me?"
"In the morning. I don't know the time."
"What do you say to do?"
He put his hat in the washbowl. It was very wet and had been dripping on the floor.
"If you have nothing to fear an arrest is nothing. But it is always bad to be arrested--especially now."
"I don't want to be arrested."
"Then go to Switzerland."
"How?"
"In my boat."
"There is a storm," I said.
"The storm is over. It is rough but you will be all right."
"When should we go?"
"Right away. They might come to arrest you early in the morning."
"What about our bags?"
"Get them packed. Get your lady dressed. I will take care of them."
"Where will you be?"
"I will wait here. I don't want any one to see me outside in the hall."
I opened the door, closed it, and went into the bedroom. Catherine was awake.
"What is it, darling?"
"It's all right, Cat," I said. "Would you like to get dressed right away and go in a boat to Switzerland?"
"Would you?"
"No," I said. "I'd like to go back to bed."
"What is it about?"
"The barman says they are going to arrest me in the morning."
"Is the barman crazy?"
"No."
"Then please hurry, darling, and get dressed so we can start." She sat up on the side of the bed. She was still sleepy. "Is that the barman in the bathroom?"
"Yes."
"Then I won't wash. please look the other way, darling, and I'll be dressed in just a minute."
I saw her white back as she took off her night-gown and then I looked away because she wanted me to. She was beginning to be a little big with the child and she did not want me to see her. I dressed hearing the rain on the windows. I did not have much to put in my bag.
"There's plenty of room in my bag, Cat, if you need any."
"I'm almost packed," she said. "Darling, I'm awfully stupid, but why is the barman in the bathroom?"
"Sh--he's waiting to take our bags down."
"He's awfully nice."
"He's an old friend," I said. "I nearly sent him some pipetobacco once."
I looked out the open window at the dark night. I could not see the lake, only the dark and the rain but the wind was quieter.
"I'm ready, darling," Catherine said.
"All right." I went to the bathroom door. "Here are the bags, Emilio," I said. The barman took the two bags.
"You're very good to help us," Catherine said.
"That's nothing, lady," the barman said. "I'm glad to help you just so I don't get in trouble myself. Listen," he said to me. "I'll take these out the servants' stairs and to the boat. You just go out as though you were going for a walk."
"It's a lovely night for a walk," Catherine said.
"It's a bad night all right."
"I'm glad I've an umbrella," Catherine said.
We walked down the hall and down the wide thickly carpeted stairs. At the foot of the stairs by the door the porter sat behind his desk.
He looked surprised at seeing us.
"You're not going out, sir?" he said.
"Yes," I said. "We're going to see the storm along the lake."
"Haven't you got an umbrella, sir?"
"No," I said. "This coat sheds water."
He looked at it doubtfully. "I'll get you an umbrella, sir," he said. He went away and came back with a big umbrella. "It is a little big, sir," he said. I gave him a ten-lira note. "Oh you are too good, sir. Thank you very much," he said. He held the door open and we went out into the rain. He smiled at Catherine and she smiled at him. "Don't stay out in the storm," he said. "You will get wet, sir and lady." He was only the second porter, and his English was still literally translated.
"We'll be back," I said. We walked down the path under the giant umbrella and out through the dark wet gardens to the road and across the road to the trellised pathway along the lake. The wind was blowing offshore now. It was a cold, wet November wind and I knew it was snowing in the mountains. We came along past the chained boats in the slips along the quay to where the barman's boat should be. The water was dark against the stone. The barman stepped out from beside the row of trees.
"The bags are in the boat," he said.
"I want to pay you for the boat," I said.
"How much money have you?"
"Not so much."
"You send me the money later. That will be all right."
"How much?"
"What you want."
"Tell me how much."
"If you get through send me five hundred francs. You won't mind that if you get through."
"All right."
"Here are sandwiches." He handed me a package. "Everything there was in the bar. It's all here. This is a bottle of brandy and a bottle of wine." I put them in my bag. "Let me pay you for those."
"All right, give me fifty lire."
I gave itto him. "The brandy is good," he said. "You don't need to be afraid to give itto your lady. She better get in the boat." He held the boat, it rising and falling against the stone wall and I helped Catherine in. She sat in the stern and pulled her cape around her.
"You know where to go?"
"Up the lake."
"You know how far?"
"past Luino."
"past Luino, Cannero, Cannobio, Tranzano. You aren't in Switzerland until you come to Brissago. You have to pass Monte Tamara."
"What time is it?" Catherine asked.
"It's only eleven o'clock," I said.
"If you row all the time you ought to be there by seven o'clock in the morning."
"Is it that far?"
"It's thirty-five kilometres."
"How should we go? In this rain we need a compass."
"No. Row to Isola Bella. Then on the other side of Isola Madre go with the wind. The wind will take you to pallanza. You will see the lights. Then go up the shore."
"Maybe the wind will change."
"No," he said. "This wind will blow like this for three days. It comes straight down from the Mattarone. There is a can to bail with."
"Let me pay you something for the boat now."
"No, I'd rather take a chance. If you get through you pay me all you can."
"All right."
"I don't think you'll get drowned."
"That's good."
"Go with the wind up the lake."
"All right."
I stepped in the boat.
"Did you leave the money for the hotel?"
"Yes. In an envelope in the room."
"All right. Good luck, Tenente."
"Good luck. We thank you many times."
"You won't thank me if you get drowned."
"What does he say?" Catherine asked.
"He says good luck."
"Good luck," Catherine said.
"Thank you very much."
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
He bent down and shoved us off. I dug at the water with the oars, then waved one hand. The barman waved back deprecatingly. I saw the lights of the hotel and rowed out, rowing straight out until they were out of sight. There was quite a sea running but we were going with the wind.

第四部 第三十六章
当天夜里大风大雨，我被暴雨抽打玻璃窗的声响吵醒。雨从敞开的窗口打进来。有人在敲门。我悄悄地走到门边，不敢惊动凯瑟琳，把门打开。酒保站在外边。他披着大衣，手里拿着湿帽子。
“我可以跟你讲句话吗，中尉？”
“什么事？”
“很严重的事。”
我向四下张望了一下。房间里很暗。我看得见窗口地板上的积水。“进来，”我说。我搀住他的胳膊走进浴间，锁上了门，把灯开了。我坐在浴缸的边沿上。
“什么事，埃米利奥？你出了事吗？”
“不。是你出事了，中尉。”
“真的？”
“他们明儿早上要来逮捕你。”
“真的？”
“我来通知你。我进了城，在一家咖啡店里听见他们在讲。”“原来是这样。”
他站在那儿，大衣湿淋淋的，手里拿着他那顶湿帽子，一声不响。“他们为什么要来逮捕我？”
“关于战争中的什么事。”
“你知道是什么事吗？”
“不知道。我只知道他们知道你从前到这儿来是个军官，现在到这儿来没穿军服。这次撤退以后，他们什么人都逮捕。”
我考虑了一会儿。
“他们什么时候来逮捕我？”
“早上。几点钟我不知道。”
“你说我怎么办呢？”
他把帽子放在洗脸盆里。因为帽子很湿，一直在朝地板上滴水。“要是你当真没事，当然也不怕逮捕啦。但是被捕总是一件坏事——特别是现在。”
“我不愿意被逮捕。”
“那么到瑞士去。”
“怎么去法呢？”
“乘我的船。”
“外边有暴风雨，”我说。
“暴风雨过去了。风浪是有的，不过你们不会有问题的。”“我们什么时候走呢？”
“就走。他们也许一大清早就来抓人。”
“我们的行李呢？”
“那就收拾吧。你叫尊夫人穿好衣服。行李由我负责。”“你在哪儿等呢？”
“就在这里等。外边走廊上我怕人家看见。”
我开了门，关好，走进卧房去。凯瑟琳已经醒了。
“什么事，亲爱的？”
“没事，凯特，”我说。“你喜欢不喜欢立即穿好衣服，坐船到瑞士去？”
“你喜欢吗？”
“不喜欢，”我说。“我喜欢回到床上去。”
“出了什么事？”
“酒保说他们明天早晨要来抓我。”
“他发疯了吗？”
“没有发疯。”
“那么请快穿好衣服，亲爱的，我们就走。”她在床边坐了起来。她还是睡意蒙眬的。“酒保在浴间里吧？”
“是的。”
“那我就不梳洗了。请你看另外一边，亲爱的，我一会儿就穿好衣服。”
她脱下睡衣时，我看见她那白皙的背部，我把头扭开去，因为她不要我看。她怀了孩子，肚子有点大，所以不要我看见。我边穿衣服，边听见窗户上的雨声。我并没有多少东西要装进我那小提包。
“我箱子里有好多空地方，凯特，如果你需要的话。”
“我差不多收拾好了，”她说。“亲爱的，我很笨，可就是不懂酒保为什么要呆在浴间里？”
“嘘——他在等着把我们的行李提下去。”
“他这人真好。”
“他是个老朋友，”我说。“我有一次差一点寄点板烟丝给他。”我从敞开的窗子望望外边的黑夜。我看不见湖，只有黑暗和雨，风倒比较安静下来了。
“我准备好了，亲爱的，”凯瑟琳说。
“好。”我走到浴间的门边。“行李在这儿，埃米利奥，”我说。酒保接过两只小提包。
“谢谢你帮我们忙，”凯瑟琳说。
“这不算什么，夫人，”酒保说。“我很愿意帮忙，只要我自己不惹出事来。喂，”他转对我说。“我提着这些东西走用人的楼梯，送到船上去。你们从前边出去，装做出去散步的模样。”
“要散步这倒是个可爱的夜晚，”凯瑟琳说。
“的确是个糟透的夜晚。”
“幸亏我还有一把伞，”凯瑟琳说。
我们走到门廊另一端，从铺着厚地毯的宽楼梯上走下去。楼梯底大门边，有个门房正坐在他的桌子后面。他见到我们，露出惊奇的模样。
“你们不是想出去吧，先生？”他说。
“出去溜溜，”我说。“我们到湖边去欣赏暴风雨。”
“你没有伞吗，先生？”
“没有，”我说。“这大衣可以挡雨。”
他怀疑地打量我的大衣。“我给你拿把伞来吧，先生，”他说。他去了回来，带来一把大伞。“稍为大一点，先生，”他说。我给他一张十里拉的钞票。“哦，你太好了，先生。多谢多谢，”他说。他拉开大门，我们走到雨里去。他对凯瑟琳笑笑，她也对他笑笑。“别在暴风雨中多耽搁，”他说。“你们会给淋湿的，先生和太太。”他只是门房的副手，他讲的英语是从意大利语逐字翻译出来的。
“我们就回来，”我说。我们撑着那把大伞走下小径，穿过又暗又湿的花园，跨过一条路，走进湖边搭有棚架的小径。风现在由岸上朝湖面刮。这是十一月中的又冷又湿的风，我知道高山上一定在下雪。我们沿着码头走，经过一些用铁链系住的小船，到了酒保的船该在的地方。石码头下边，湖水显得一片漆黑。酒保从一排树边闪了出来。
“行李在船里，”他说。
“我把船的钱给你吧，”我说。
“你身边有多少钱？”
“不太多。”
“那么你以后寄来好啦。没关系。”
“多少钱？”
“随你便。”
“告诉我多少钱。”
“你平安到达那边的话，寄五百法郎给我吧。你平安到了那边，就不会觉到太贵了。”“好吧。”
“这是三明治。”他递一个小包给我。“酒吧间里所有的我都拿来了。都在这儿。这是一瓶白兰地和一瓶葡萄酒。”我把这些东西放在我的小提包里。“这些东西我现在付账吧。”
“好，给我五十里拉吧。”
我给了他。“白兰地是好的，”他说。“尽管可以放心给尊夫人喝。她还是上船去吧。”船一高一低地撞着石壁，他用手拉住船，我扶凯瑟琳上了船。她坐在船尾，把身上的披肩裹紧。
“去的地方你知道吗？”
“到湖的北边去。”
“你知道多远吗？”
“要过卢易诺①。”“要过卢易诺、坎纳罗、坎诺比奥、特兰萨诺。你得到了勃里萨哥才算进入瑞士国境。你得穿过塔玛拉山。”
“现在什么时候？”凯瑟琳问。
“还只十一点，”我说。
“倘若你不停地划，早上七点钟应当可以到达那边了。”
“有这么远吗？”
“三十五公里。”
“我们怎么走呢？下这样的雨，我们非有罗盘针不可。”
“用不着。你先把船划到美人岛。随后到圣母岛的另一边，就可以顺着风走了。风会带你到巴兰萨②。你会看见岸上的灯光。然后挨着岸朝北走。”
“也许风会转向的。”
“不会，”他说。“这风将这样连刮三天。是从马特龙峰①直接刮下来的。船上有只罐子可以舀水。”
①亨利·巴比塞（1873—1935）参加第一次世界大战时，在战壕中写成本书，揭露战争的罪恶。该书于1916 年出版。
② 这是英国作家威尔斯发表于1916 年的优秀反战小说。
① 卢易诺是马焦莱湖畔的工业城镇。
“我现在付一点船钱给你吧。”“不，我还是冒个险吧。倘若你平安到了那边，你就照你的能力付给我好了。”
“好的。”
“依我看，你们不至于淹死的。”
“这倒是个安慰。”
“顺着风从湖上朝北走。”
“好的。”我跨进船去。
“旅馆的房钱你留下没有？”
“留下了。放在房中的一只信封里。”
“好吧。祝你运气好，中尉。”
“祝你运气好。我们俩多多感谢你。”
“如果淹死就不会谢我了。”
“他说什么？”凯瑟琳问。
“他说运气好。”
“好运气，”凯瑟琳说。“非常感谢你。”
“你们准备好了没有？”
“好了。”
他弯把船推离岸边。我把双桨往水里一划，随即抬起一只手来招招。酒保摇摇手表示不赞许。我看见旅馆的灯光，赶快把船直划出去，直到灯光看不见了。湖上波涛汹涌，不过我们正是顺风。
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BOOK FOUR CHAPTER 37
I rowed in the dark keeping the wind in my face. The rain had stopped and only came occasionally in gusts. It was very dark, and the wind was cold. I could see Catherine in the stern but I could not see the water where the blades of the oars dipped. The oars were long and there were no leathers to keep them from slipping out. I pulled, raised, leaned forward, found the water, dipped and pulled, rowing as easily as I could. I did not feather the oars because the wind was with us. I knew my hands would blister and I wanted to delay it as long as I could. The boat was light and rowed easily. I pulled it along in the dark water. I could not see, and hoped we would soon come opposite pallanza.
We never saw pallanza. The wind was blowing up the lake and we passed the point that hides pallanza in the dark and never saw the lights. When we finally saw some lights much further up the lake and close to the shore it was Intra. But for a long time we did not see any lights, nor did we see the shore but rowed steadily in the dark riding with the waves. Sometimes I missed the water with the oars in the dark as a wave lifted the boat. It was quite rough; but I kept on rowing, until suddenly we were close ashore against a point of rock that rose beside us; the waves striking against it, rushing high up, then falling back. I pulled hard on the right oar and backed water with the other and we went out into the lake again; the point was out of sight and we were going on up the lake.
"We're across the lake," I said to Catherine.
"Weren't we going to see pallanza?"
"We've missed it."
"How are you, darling?"
"I'm fine."
"I could take the oars awhile."
"No, I'm fine."
"poor Ferguson," Catherine said. "In the morning she'll come to the hotel and find we're gone."
"I'm not worrying so much about that," I said, "as about getting into the Swiss part of the lake before it's daylight and the custom guards see us."
"Is it a long way?"
"It's some thirty kilometres from here."
I rowed all night. Finally my hands were so sore I could hardly close them over the oars. We were nearly smashed up on the shore several times. I kept fairly close to the shore because I was afraid of getting lost on the lake and losing time. Sometimes we were so close we could see a row of trees and the road along the shore with the mountains behind. The rain stopped and the wind drove the clouds so that the moon shone through and looking back I could see the long dark point of Castagnola and the lake with white-caps and beyond, the moon on the high snow mountains. Then the clouds came over the moon again and the mountains and the lake were gone, but it was much lighter than it had been before and we could see the shore. I could see it too clearly and pulled out where they would not see the boat if there were custom guards along the pallanza road. When the moon came out again we could see white villas on the shore on the slopes of the mountain and thewhite road where it showed through the trees. All the time I was rowing.
The lake widened and across it on the shore at the foot of the mountains on the other side we saw a few lights that should be Luino. I saw a wedgelike gap between the mountains on the other shore and I thought that must be Luino. If it was we were making good time. I pulled in the oars and lay back on the seat. I was very, very tired of rowing. My arms and shoulders and back ached and my hands were sore.
"I could hold the umbrella," Catherine said. "We could sail with that with the wind."
"Can you steer?"
"I think so."
"You take this oar and hold it under your arm close to the side of the boat and steer and I'll hold the umbrella." I went back to the stern and showed her how to hold the oar. I took the big umbrella the porter had given me and sat facing the bow and opened it. It opened with a clap. I held it on both sides, sitting astride the handle hooked over the seat. The wind was full in it and I felt the boat suck forward while I held as hard as I could to the two edges. It pulled hard. The boat was moving fast.
"We're going beautifully," Catherine said. All I could see was umbrella ribs. The umbrella strained and pulled and I felt us driving along with it. I braced my feet and held back on it, then suddenly, it buckled; I felt a rib snap on my forehead, I tried to grab the top that was bending with the wind and the whole thing buckled and went inside out and I was astride the handle of an inside-out, ripped umbrella, where I had been holding a wind-filled pulling sail. I unhooked the handle from the seat, laid the umbrella in the bow and went back to Catherine for the oar. She was laughing. She took my hand and kept on laughing.
"What's the matter?" I took the oar.
"You looked so funny holding that thing."
"I suppose so."
"Don't be cross, darling. It was awfully funny. You looked about twenty feet broad and very affectionate holding the umbrella by the edges--" she choked.
"I'll row."
"Take a rest and a drink. It's a grand night and we've come a long way."
"I have to keep the boat out of the trough of the waves."
"I'll get you a drink. Then rest a little while, darling."
I held the oars up and we sailed with them. Catherine was opening the bag. She handed me the brandy bottle. I pulled the cork with my pocket-knife and took a long drink. It was smooth and hot and the heat went all through me and I felt warmed and cheerful. "It's lovely brandy," I said. The moon was under again but I could see the shore. There seemed to be another point going out a long way ahead into the lake.
"Are you warm enough, Cat?"
"I'm splendid. I'm a little stiff."
"Bail out that water and you can put your feet down."
Then I rowed and listened to the oarlocks and the dip and scrape of the bailing tin under the stern seat.
"Would you give me the bailer?" I said. "I want a drink."
"It's awful dirty."
"That's all right. I'll rinse it."
I heard Catherine rinsing it over the side. Then she handed it to me dipped full of water. I was thirsty after the brandy and the water was icy cold, so cold it made my teeth ache. I looked toward the shore. We were closer to the long point. There were lights in the bay ahead.
"Thanks," I said and handed back the tin pail.
"You're ever so welcome," Catherine said. "There's much more if you want it."
"Don't you want to eat something?"
"No. I'll be hungry in a little while. We'll save it till then."
"All right."
What looked like a point ahead was a long high headland. I went further out in the lake to pass it. The lake was much narrower now. The moon was out again and the guardia di finanza could have seen our boat black on the water if they had been watching.
"How are you, Cat?" I asked.
"I'm all right. Where are we?"
"I don't think we have more than about eight miles more."
"That's a long way to row, you poor sweet. Aren't you dead?"
"No. I'm all right. My hands are sore is all."
We went on up the lake. There was a break in the mountains on the right bank, a flattening-out with a low shore line that I thought must be Cannobio. I stayed a long way out because it was from now on that we ran the most danger of meeting guardia. There was a high dome-capped mountain on the other shore a way ahead. I was tired. It was no great distance to row but when you were out of condition it had been a long way. I knew I had to pass that mountain and go up the lake at least five miles further before we would be in Swiss water. The moon was almost down now but before it went down the sky clouded over again and it was very dark. I stayed well out in the lake, rowing awhile, then resting and holding the oars so that the wind struck the blades.
"Let me row awhile," Catherine said.
"I don't think you ought to."
"Nonsense. It would be good for me. It would keep me from being too stiff."
"I don't think you should, Cat."
"Nonsense. Rowing in moderation is very good for the pregnant lady."
"All right, you row a little moderately. I'll go back, then you come up. Hold on to both gunwales when you come up."
I sat in the stern with my coat on and the collar turned up and watched Catherine row. She rowed very well but the oars were too long and bothered her. I opened the bag and ate a couple of sandwiches and took a drink of the brandy. It made everything much better and I took another drink.
"Tell me when you're tired," I said. Then a little later, "Watch out the oar doesn't pop you in the tummy."
"If it did"--Catherine said between strokes--"life might be much simpler."
I took another drink of the brandy.
"How are you going?"
"All right."
"Tell me when you want to stop."
"All right."
I took another drink of the brandy, then took hold of the two gunwales of the boat and moved forward.
"No. I'm going beautifully."
"Go on back to the stern. I've had a grand rest."
For a while, with the brandy, I rowed easily and steadily. Then I began to catch crabs and soon I was just chopping along again with a thin brown taste of bile from having rowed too hard after the brandy.
"Give me a drink of water, will you?" I said.
"That's easy," Catherine said.
Before daylight it started to drizzle. The wind was down or we were protected by mountains that bounded the curve the lake had made. When I knew daylight was coming I settled down and rowed hard. I did not know where we were and I wanted to get into the Swiss part of the lake. When it was beginning to be daylight we were quite close to the shore. I could see the rocky shore and the trees.
"What's that?" Catherine said. I rested on the oars and listened. It was a motor boat chugging out on the lake. I pulled close up to the shore and lay quiet. The chugging came closer; then we saw the motor boat in the rain a little astern of us. There were four guardia di finanza in the stern, their alpini hats pulled down, their cape collars turned up and their carbines slung across their backs. They all looked sleepy so early in the morning. I could see the yellow on their hats and the yellow marks on their cape collars. The motor boat chugged on and out of sight in the rain.
I pulled out into the lake. If we were that close to the border I did not want to be hailed by a sentry along the road. I stayed out where I could just see the shore and rowed on for three quarters of an hour in the rain. We heard a motor boat once more but I kept quiet until the noise of the engine went away across the lake.
"I think we're in Switzerland, Cat," I said.
"Really?"
"There's no way to know until we see Swiss troops."
"Or the Swiss navy."
"The Swiss navy's no joke for us. That last motor boat we heard was probably the Swiss navy."
"If we're in Switzerland let's have a big breakfast. They have wonderful rolls and butter and jam in Switzerland."
It was clear daylight now and a fine rain was falling. The wind was still blowing outside up the lake and we could see the tops of the white-caps going away from us and up the lake. I was sure we were in Switzerland now. There were many houses back in the trees from the shore and up the shore a way was a village with stone houses, some villas on the hills and a church. I had been looking at the road that skirted the shore for guards but did not see any. The road came quite close to the lake now and I saw a soldier coming out of a caf?on the road. He wore a gray-green uniform and a helmet like the Germans. He had a healthy-looking face and a little toothbrush mustache. He looked at us.
"Wave to him," I said to Catherine. She waved and the soldier smiled embarrassedly and gave a wave of his hand. I eased up rowing. We were passing the waterfront of the village.
"We must be well inside the border," I said.
"We want to be sure, darling. We don't want them to turn us back at the frontier."
"The frontier is a long way back. I think this is the customs town. I'm pretty sure it's Brissago."
"Won't there be Italians there? There are always both sides at a customs town."
"Not in war-time. I don't think they let the Italians cross the frontier."
It was a nice-looking little town. There were many fishing boats along the quay and nets were spread on racks. There was a fine November rain falling but it looked cheerful and clean even with the rain.
"Should we land then and have breakfast?"
"All right."
I pulled hard on the left oar and came in close, then straightened out when we were close to the quay and brought the boat alongside. I pulled in the oars, took hold of an iron ring, stepped up on the wet stone and was in Switzerland. I tied the boat and held my hand down to Catherine.
"Come on up, Cat. It's a grand feeling."
"What about the bags?"
"Leave them in the boat."
Catherine stepped up and we were in Switzerland together.
"What a lovely country," she said.
"Isn't it grand?"
"Let's go and have breakfast!"
"Isn't it a grand country? I love the way it feels under my shoes."
"I'm so stiff I can't feel it very well. But it feels like a splendid country. Darling, do you realize we're here and out of that bloody place?"
"I do. I really do. I've never realized anything before."
"Look at the houses. Isn't this a fine square? There's a place we can get breakfast."
"Isn't the rain fine? They never had rain like this in Italy. It's cheerful rain."
"And we're here, darling! Do you realize we're here?"
We went inside the caf?and sat down at a clean wooden table. We were cockeyed excited. A splendid clean-looking woman with an apron came and asked us what we wanted.
"Rolls and jam and coffee," Catherine said.
"I'm sorry, we haven't any rolls in war-time."
"Bread then."
"I can make you some toast."
"All right."
"I want some eggs fried too."
"How many eggs for the gentleman?"
"Three."
"Take four, darling."
"Four eggs."
The woman went away. I kissed Catherine and held her hand very tight. We looked at each other and at the caf?
"Darling, darling, isn't it lovely?"
"It's grand," I said.
"I don't mind there not being rolls," Catherine said. "I thought about them all night. But I don't mind it. I don't mind it at all."
"I suppose pretty soon they will arrest us."
"Never mind, darling. We'll have breakfast first. You won't mind being arrested after breakfast. And then there's nothing they can do to us. We're British and American citizens in good standing."
"You have a passport, haven't you?"
"Of course. Oh let's not talk about it. Let's be happy."
"I couldn't be any happiei" I said. A fat gray cat with a tail that lifted like a plume crossed the floor to our table and curved against my leg to purr each time she rubbed. I reached down and stroked her. Catherine smiled at me very happily. "Here comes the coffee," she said.
They arrested us after breakfast. We took a little walk through the village then went down to the quay to get our bags. A soldier was standing guard over the boat.
"Is this your boat?"
"Yes."
"Where do you come from?"
"Up the lake."
"Then I have to ask you to come with me."
"How about the bags?"
"You can carry the bags."
I carried the bags and Catherine walked beside me and the soldier walked along behind us to the old custom house. In the custom house a lieutenant, very thin and military, questioned us.
"What nationality are you?"
"American and British."
"Let me see your passports."
I gave him mine and Catherine got hers out of her handbag.
He examined them for a long time.
"Why do you enter Switzerland this way in a boat?"
"I am a sportsman," I said. "Rowing is my great sport. I always row when I get a chance."
"Why do you come here?"
"For the winter sport. We are tourists and we want to do the winter sport."
"This is no place for winter sport."
"We know it. We want to go where they have the winter sport."
"What have you been doing in Italy?"
"I have been studying architecture. My cousin has been studying art."
"Why do you leave there?"
"We want to do the winter sport. With the war going on you cannot study architecture."
"You will please stay where you are," the lieutenant said. He went back into the building with our passports.
"You're splendid, darling," Catherine said. "Keep on the same track. You want to do the winter sport."
"Do you know anything about art?"
"Rubens," said Catherine.
"Large and fat," I said.
"Titian," Catherine said.
"Titian-haired," I said. "How about Mantegna?"
"Don't ask hard ones," Catherine said. "I know him though-- very bitter."
"Very bitter," I said. "Lots of nail holes."
"You see I'll make you a fine wife," Catherine said. "I'll be able to talk art with your customers."
"Here he comes," I said. The thin lieutenant came down the length of the custom house, holding our passports.
"I will have to send you into Locarno," he said. "You can get a carriage and a soldier will go in with you."
"All right," I said. "What about the boat?"
"The boat is confiscated. What have you in those bags?"
He went all through the two bags and held up the quarterbottle of brandy. "Would you join me in a drink?" I asked.
"No thank you." He straightened up. "How much money have you?"
"Twenty-five hundred lire."
He was favorably impressed. "How much has your cousin?"
Catherine had a little over twelve hundred lire. The lieutenant was pleased. His attitude toward us became less haughty.
"If you are going for winter sports," he said, "Wengen is the place. My father has a very fine hotel at Wengen. It is open all the time."
"That's splendid," I said. "Could you give me the name?"
"I will write it on a card." He handed me the card very politely.
"The soldier will take you into Locarno. He will keep your passports. I regret this but it is necessary. I have good hopes they will give you a visa or a police permit at Locarno."
He handed the two passports to the soldier and carrying the bags we started into the village to order a carriage. "Hi," the lieutenant called to the soldier. He said something in a German dialect to him. The soldier slung his rifle on his back and picked up the bags.
"It's a great country," I said to Catherine.
"It's so practical."
"Thank you very much," I said to the lieutenant. He waved his hand.
"Service!" he said. We followed our guard into the village.
We drove to Locarno in a carriage with the soldier sitting on the front seat with the driver. At Locarno we did not have a bad time. They questioned us but they were polite because we had passports and money. I do not think they believed a word of the story and I thought it was silly but it was like a law-court. You did not want something reasonable, you wanted something technical and then stuck to it without explanations. But we had passports and we would spend the money. So they gave us provisional visas.
At any time this visa might be withdrawn. We were to report to the police wherever we went.
Could we go wherever we wanted? Yes. Where did we want to go?
"Where do you want to go, Cat?"
"Montreux."
"It is a very nice place," the official said. "I think you will like that place."
"Here at Locarno is a very nice place," another official said. "I am sure you would like it here very much at Locarno. Locarno is a very attractive place."
"We would like some place where there is winter sport."
"There is no winter sport at Montreux."
"I beg your pardon," the other official said. "I come from Montreux. There is very certainly winter sport on the Montreux Oberland Bernois railway. It would be false for you to deny
that."
"I do not deny it. I simply said there is no winter sport at Montreux."
"I question that," the other official said. "I question that statement."
"I hold to that statement."
"I question that statement. I myself have _luge-ed_ into the streets of Montreux. I have done it not once but several times. Luge-ing is certainly winter sport."
The other official turned to me.
"Is luge-ing your idea of winter sport, sir? I tell you you would be very comfortable here in Locarno. You would find the climate healthy, you would find the environs attractive. You would like it very much."
"The gentleman has expressed a wish to go to Montreux."
"What is luge-ing?" I asked.
"You see he has never even heard of luge-ing!"
That meant a great deal to the second official. He was pleased by that.
"Luge-ing," said the first official, "is tobogganing."
"I beg to differ," the other official shook his head. "I must differ again. The toboggan is very different from the luge. The toboggan is constructed in Canada of flat laths. The luge is a common sled with runners. Accuracy means something."
"Couldn't we toboggan?" I asked.
"Of course you could toboggan," the first official said. "You could toboggan very well. Excellent Canadian toboggans are sold in Montreux. Ochs Brothers sell toboggans. They import their own toboggans."
The second official turned away. "Tobogganing," he said, "requires a special piste. You could not toboggan into the streets of Montreux. Where are you stopping here?"
"We don't know," I said. "We just drove in from Brissago. The carriage is outside."
"You make no mistake in going to Montreux," the first official said. "You will find the climate delightful and beautiful. You will have no distance to go for winter sport."
"If you really want winter sport," the second official said, "you will go to the Engadine or to Mren. I must protest against your being advised to go to Montreux for the winter sport."
"At Les Avants above Montreux there is excellent winter sport of every sort." The champion of Montreux glared at his colleague.
"Gentlemen," I said, "I am afraid we must go. My cousin is very tired. We will go tentatively to Montreux."
"I congratulate you," the first official shook my hand.
"I believe that you will regret leaving Locarno," the second official said. "At any rate you will report to the police at Montreux."
"There will be no unpleasantness with the police," the first official assured me. "You will find all the inhabitants extremely courteous and friendly."
"Thank you both very much," I said. "We appreciate your advice very much."
"Good-by," Catherine said. "Thank you both very much."
They bowed us to the dooi the champion of Locarno a little coldly. We went down the steps and into the carriage.
"My God, darling," Catherine said. "Couldn't we have gotten away any sooner?" I gave the name of a hotel one of the officials had recommended to the driver. He picked up the reins.
"You've forgotten the army," Catherine said. The soldier was standing by the carriage. I gave him a ten-lira note. "I have no Swiss money yet," I said. He thanked me, saluted and went off. The carriage started and we drove to the hotel.
"How did you happen to pick out Montreux?" I asked Catherine. "Do you really want to go there?"
"It was the first place I could think of," she said. "It's not a bad place. We can find some place up in the mountains."
"Are you sleepy?"
"I'm asleep right now."
"We'll get a good sleep. poor Cat, you had a long bad night."
"I had a lovely time," Catherine said. "Especially when you sailed with the umbrella."
"Can you realize we're in Switzerland?"
"No, I'm afraid I'll wake up and it won't be true."
"I am too."
"It is true, isn't it, darling? I'm not just driving down to the stazione in Milan to see you off."
"I hope not."
"Don't say that. It frightens me. Maybe that's where we're going."
"I'm so groggy I don't know," I said.
"Let me see your hands."
I put them out. They were both blistered raw.
"There's no hole in my side," I said.
"Don't be sacrilegious."
I felt very tired and vague in the head. The exhilaration was all gone. The carriage was going along the Street.
"poor hands," Catherine said.
"Don't touch them," I said. "By God I don't know where we are. Where are we going, driver?" The driver stopped his horse.
"To the Hotel Metropole. Don't you want to go there?"
"Yes," I said. "It's all right, Cat."
"It's all right, darling. Don't be upset. We'll get a good sleep and you won't feel groggy to-morrow."
"I get pretty groggy," I said. "It's like a comic opera to-day. Maybe I'm hungry."
"You're just tired, darling. You'll be fine." The carriage pulled up before the hotel. Some one came out to take our bags.
"I feel all right," I said. We were down on the pavement going into the hotel.
"I know you'll be all right. You're just tired. You've been up a long time."
"Anyhow we're here."
"Yes, we're really here."
We followed the boy with the bags into the hotel.

第四部 第三十七章
我在黑暗中划船，使风一直刮着我的脸，以免划错方向。雨已停止了，只是偶尔一阵阵地洒下来。天很黑，风又冷。我看得见坐在船尾的凯瑟琳，但是看不见桨身入水的地方。桨很长，把柄上没有皮套，时常滑出手去。我往后一扳，一提，往前一靠，碰到了水面，于是一划，往后一扳，尽量轻松地划着。我并不摆平桨面②，因为我们顺风。我知道我手上会起泡，不过我希望尽可能慢点起泡。船身很轻，划来不吃力。我在黑暗的湖面上划船。我看不见什么，只希望早一点到达巴兰萨的对面。
我们始终没看到巴兰萨。风在湖面上刮着，我们在黑暗中错过了遮蔽巴兰萨的小岬，所以根本没看见巴兰萨的灯火。等我们最后在湖上更朝北而近岸的地方看到灯光时，已是印特拉了。但是未到印特拉以前，我们在黑暗中摸索了许久，既不见灯光又不见岸，只好在黑暗中顺风破浪，不断划桨。有时我的桨碰不到水面，因为有个浪头把船抬高了。湖上浪很大；浪打在上面，激得很高，又退回来。我连忙用力扳右桨，拿左桨倒划，退到湖面上；小岬看不见了，我们继续朝北划。
“我们过了湖了，”我对凯瑟琳说。
“我们不是要先看见巴兰萨吗？”
“我们错过了。”
“你好吧，亲爱的？”
“我好。”
“我来划一会儿吧。”
“不，我能行。”
“可怜的弗格逊，”凯瑟琳说。“今天早晨她上旅馆来，可找不到我们了。”
“这我倒不大操心，”我说。“怕的是在天亮前进入瑞士国境内的湖面时被税警撞见。”
“还远吗？”
“离这儿有三十来公里。”
我整夜划船。到后来我的手疼极了，几乎在桨柄上合不拢来。我们好几次差一点在岸边把船撞破。我让船相当挨近岸走，因为害怕在湖中迷失方向，耽误时间。有时我们那么挨近岸，竟看得见一溜树木、湖滨的公路和后边的高山。雨停了，风赶开云儿，月亮溜了出来；我回头一望，望得见那黑黑的长岬卡斯达诺拉、那白浪翻腾的湖面和湖后边雪峰上的月色。后来云又把月亮遮住，山峰和湖又消失了，不过现在天已比从前亮得多，我们看得见湖岸。岸上的景物看得太清楚了，我连忙又往外扳桨，因为巴兰萨公路上可能有税警，免得他们看到。月亮再出来时，我们看得见湖滨山坡上白色的别墅和一排排树木间所透露出来的白色公路。我时时都在划船。湖面越来越宽了，对湖山脚下有些灯光，那地方该是卢易诺。我望得见湖对岸高山间有个楔形的峡谷，我想那地方准是卢易诺无疑了。倘若猜想得对，那我们的船算划得快的了。我收起桨来，在座位上往后一靠。我划得非常非常疲乏了。我的胳膊、肩膀和背部都发痛，我的手也疼痛。“我可以打着伞，”凯瑟琳说。“我们拿它当帆使吧。”
② 巴兰萨在马焦莱湖上，对着巴罗米岛，是春秋二季游客游玩的地方。
“你会把舵吗？”
“大概行的。”
“你拿这根桨放在胁下，紧挨着船边把舵，我来撑伞。”我走到船尾，教她怎样拿着桨。我提起门房给我的那把大伞，面对船头坐下，把伞撑开。雨伞拍拉一声张开了。伞柄勾住了座位，我双手拉住伞的两边，横跨伞柄坐下。满伞是风，我感觉到船猛然挺进了，便尽力地抓紧伞的两边。风把伞扯得很紧。船冲得好快。
“我们驶得太好了，”凯瑟琳说。我只看得见雨伞的伞骨。雨伞被风绷得紧紧的，直往前拖，我只觉得我们正跟着雨伞在前进。我用两脚死命撑住，拖住了它，猛不防伞被吹弯了；我觉得一条伞骨折断了，打在我的前额上，当我伸手去抓那被风刮歪的伞顶时，它一捩，整个儿翻转过去，本来我是满帆而行的，现在弄得骑着一把完全翻转的破伞的柄了。我把勾在座位下的伞柄解下来，把伞撂在船头上，回到船尾凯瑟琳那儿去拿桨。她正在大笑。她抓住我的手，笑个不停。
“什么事啊？”我接过桨来。
“你抓住那东西太滑稽了。”
“大概是吧。”
“别生气，亲爱的。真滑稽。你看样子有二十英尺宽，非常亲密地抓住了伞的两边——”她笑得喘不过气来。
“我来划船。”
“休息一下，喝一口酒。这真是个良宵，我们已经赶了不少路啦。”“我得不让船陷进大浪间的波谷。”
“我给你倒杯酒来。然后休息一下，亲爱的。”
我举起双桨，我们靠划船前进。凯瑟琳在打开小提包。她把白兰地瓶递给我。我用怀刀挑开瓶塞，喝了一大口。酒味醇厚，热辣辣的，热气透过全身，叫我觉得温暖愉快。“这是很好的白兰地，”我说。月亮又躲在云后边，但是我看得见湖岸。前头好像又有个小岬，深深伸入湖面。“你身体够暖和吗，凯特？”
“我挺好。只是稍为有一点僵硬。”
“把水舀出去，这样你的脚就可以往下伸了。”
随后我再划船，听着桨架声、划水声和船尾座位上白铁罐子的舀水声。
“罐子递给我好吗？”我说。“我想喝口水。”
“罐子脏得很呢。”
“没关系。我来洗一洗。”
我听见凯瑟琳在船边洗罐子的声音。随后她汲满了一罐子水递给我。我喝了白兰地后，口很渴，可是湖水像冰一样冷，冷得叫我牙齿酸痛。我望望岸上。我们离那长岬更近了。前面湖湾上有灯光。
“谢谢，”我说，把白铁罐子递回去。
“何必客气，”凯瑟琳说。“你要这里多的是。”
“你不想吃点东西吗？”
“不。我要等一会儿才会觉得饿。我们到那时候再吃吧。”“好的。”前头那个看起来像是小岬的地方，原来是个又长又高的地岬。我把船朝湖心划得远远才绕了过去。现在湖面狭窄多了。月亮又出来了，倘若湖上税警真在守望的话，一定看得见水面上我们这一条黑糊糊的船。“你好吧，凯特？”我问。
“我很好。我们到哪儿了？”
“照我想，顶多还有八英里路了。”
“划起来路可不少啊，可怜的宝贝。你累死了吧？”
“不。我还行。只是手痛罢了。”
我们继续在湖上朝北划。右岸高山间有一个缺口，成为一条低下去的湖岸线，那地方大概就是坎诺比奥吧。我把船划得离岸远远的，因为从现在起最有碰上税警的危险了。前头对岸有座圆顶的高峰。我疲乏了。划起来距离其实不远，但是人一虚弱就显得远了。我知道我必须过了那座高山，再朝北划五英里才能进入瑞士水域。现在月亮快要下去了，但在落下之前，阴云又遮住了天，成为一片黑暗。我把船划得离岸远远的，划一会，歇一会，抬起双桨，让风刮着桨身。
“我来划一会儿吧，”凯瑟琳说。“我想你不该划。”
“胡说。这对我有好处。划划可以使我的身体不至于太僵硬。”“你不该划，凯特。”
“胡说。适度的划船对于怀孕的妇人很有好处。”
“好，你就适度地划一会儿吧。我先回船尾，你再过来。你过来时双手抓牢船舷。”
我坐在船尾，披上大衣，翻起衣领，看凯瑟琳划船。她划得很好，只是双桨太长，很不顺手。我打开小提包，吃了两块三明治，喝一口白兰地。这一来精神为之一振，我又喝了一口酒。
“你累了就说一声，”我说。过了一会儿，我又说，“当心桨，别撞在肚子上。”
“倘若撞上了，”——凯瑟琳在划桨的间歇间说——“人生就可能简单多了。”
我又呷了一口白兰地。
“你划得怎么样？”
“很好。”
“你要歇时说一声。”
“好。”
我又喝了一口白兰地，然后抓住两边的船舷，走向前去。
“不。我正划得挺好。”
“回到船尾去。我好好休息过了。”
借着白兰地的力量，我轻松而稳定地划了一会儿。随后我开始乱了章法，不是划桨入水过深，便是未入水中，不久我只是乱划一阵，口里涌起淡淡的褐色胆汁味，因为喝了白兰地后划船划得太用力了。
“给我点水喝，行吗？”我说。
“这太方便了，”凯瑟琳说。
天亮前下起毛毛雨来。风不晓得是停了呢，还是因为被弯曲的湖岸边的高山遮住了。我一发觉天快要亮了，就认真地划起船来。我不知道我们到了什么地方，只求进入瑞士水域。天开始亮时，我们相当贴近湖岸。我望得见多岩石的湖岸和树木。
“那是什么？”凯瑟琳说。我歇桨倾听。原来是一艘小汽艇在湖上开的咋咋声。我赶忙划船近岸，静悄悄地伏在那儿。咋咋声越来越近了；我们随即看见那汽艇在雨中行驶着，离我们的船尾不远。汽艇尾部有四名税警，阿尔卑斯山式的帽子拉得低低的，披肩的领头往上翻，背上斜挂着卡宾熗。在这样的大清早，他们看上去都还昏昏欲睡。我看得见他们帽子上的黄色和他们披肩领子上的黄色徽号。汽艇咋咋地开过去，在雨中隐没了。我把船朝湖中划。如果我们离边境很近了，我就不愿让湖滨公路上的哨兵来喝住我们。我把船划到刚刚望得见岸的地方，在雨中划了三刻钟。我们又听见汽艇声，我连忙把船歇下来，一直等到引擎声在湖的那一边消失。
“我们大概已在瑞士了，”凯瑟琳说。
“真的？”
“这也难说，除非我们看到了瑞士的陆军部队。”
“或者瑞士的海军。”
“瑞士海军对我们倒不是好玩的。我们最后一次听到的汽艇声，可能就是瑞士海军。”
“我们如果真的到了瑞士，就来好好地吃一顿早餐吧。瑞士有非常好的面包卷、黄油和果子酱。”
现在天色大亮了，又在下着纷纷细雨。湖的北部还刮着风，我们望得见滔滔白浪正打我们这边翻腾地朝北往湖上卷去。现在我有把握的确到达瑞士了。湖滨树木后边有许多房屋，离岸不远还有一个村子，村子里有些石头房屋，小山上有些别墅，还有一座教堂。我细心张望绕着湖滨的公路，看看有没有卫兵，但没有看到。公路现在离湖很近，我看到一名士兵从路边一家咖啡店走出来。他身穿灰绿色的军装，帽盔像是德国兵的。他长着一张看来很健康的脸，留着一簇牙刷般的小胡子。他望望我们。“对他招招手，”我对凯瑟琳说。她招招手，那士兵怪不好意思地笑笑，也招招手。我放慢了划船的速度。我们正经过村前的滨水地带。“我们一定已深入瑞士境内了，”我说。
“我们得有相当的把握才行，亲爱的。可不要让人家把我们从边境线上押回去。”
“边境线早已过了。这大概是个设有海关的小城。我相信这就是勃里萨哥。”
“会不会同时也驻有意大利军警？在有海关的边城，通常驻有两国的军警。”
“战时可不同。照我想，他们不会让意大利人过边境来的。”那是个相当好看的小城。沿着码头泊着许多渔船，鱼网摊在架子上。虽则下着十一月的细雨，小城看起来还是很愉快干净。
“那我们上岸去吃早点吧？”
“好。”
我用力划左桨，贴近湖岸，当船挨近码头时，我把船打横，靠上码头。我收起桨来，抓住码头上的一个铁圈，脚往湿淋淋的石码头上一踏，算是踏上了瑞士的国土。我绑好船，伸手下去拉凯瑟琳。
“上来吧，凯特。这太愉快了。”
“行李呢？”
“留在船上好啦。”
凯瑟琳走了上来，我们两人都在瑞士了。
“一个多么可爱的国家啊，”她说。
“岂不是挺好吗？”
“我们走，吃早点去！”
“这不是个非常好的国家吗？我脚底下踩的泥土都给我快感。”“我人太僵硬了，脚底下感觉不大灵。但是我觉得这正是个很不错的国家。亲爱的，你是不是体会到我们到了这儿，已经离开了那该死的地方了？”
“我体会到了。我真的体会到了。我从来没有过这种体会。”“瞧瞧那些房屋。这岂不是个很好的广场？那边有个地方我们可以吃早点。”
“你不觉得这雨下得真好吗？意大利从来没有这种雨。这是一种愉快的雨。”
“而我们到这儿了，亲爱的！你可体会到我们到达这儿了？”我们走进咖啡店，在一张干净的木桌边坐下来。我们兴奋得如醉如痴。一位神气十足、模样干净、围着围裙的妇人前来问我们要吃什么。“面包卷、果酱和咖啡，”凯瑟琳说。
“对不起，我们战时没有面包卷。”
“那么面包吧。”
“我可以给你们烤面包。”
“好。”
“我还要几个煎蛋。”
“先生要多少煎蛋？”
“三个。”
“四个吧，亲爱的。”
“四个。”
那妇人走开了。我亲亲凯瑟琳，紧紧地握住她的手。我看她，她看我，我们看看咖啡店。
“亲爱的，亲爱的，这岂不是挺美吗？”
“太好啦，”我说。
“没有面包圈我也不在意，”凯瑟琳说。“我整夜都在想念面包圈。但是我不在意。完全不在意。”
“大概人家快来逮捕我们了。”
“不要紧，亲爱的。我们先吃早点。吃了早点，就不在乎被逮捕了。况且人家也不能拿我们怎么样。我们是英美两国的好公民。”“你有护照，对吧？”
“当然有。哦，这事我们别谈吧。我们只要快乐。”
“我真是再快乐也没有了，”我说。一只胖胖的灰猫，竖起了翎毛似的尾巴，走到我们桌下来，弓身挨在我的腿上，每次擦着我的腿便哼叫一声。我伸手抚摸它。凯瑟琳快快活活地对我笑笑。“咖啡来了，”她说。早点后，人家逮捕了我们。我们先上村子里散了一会步，然后回到码头去拿行李。有名士兵正守着我们的小船。
“这是你们的船吗？”
“是的。”
“你们从哪儿来？”
“从湖上来。”
“那我得请你们跟我一块儿去了。”
“行李怎么办？”
“小提包可以带上。”
我提着小提包，凯瑟琳走在我旁边，士兵在后边押着我们上那古老的海关去。海关里有一名尉官，人很瘦，很有军人气派，他盘问我们。
“你们是什么国籍？”
“美国和英国。”
“护照给我看看。”
我给他我的护照，凯瑟琳从她皮包里掏出她的。
他查验了好久。
“你们为什么这样划着船到瑞士来？”
“我是个运动家，”我说。“划船是我所擅长的运动。我一有机会就划船。”
“你为什么上这儿来？”
“为了冬季运动。我们是游客，我们想玩冬季运动。”
“这儿可不是冬季运动的地方。”
“我们知道。我们要到那有冬季运动的地方去。”
“你们在意大利做什么？”
“我在学建筑。我表妹研究美术。”
“你们为什么离开那边呢？”
“我们想玩冬季运动。现在那边在打仗，没法子学建筑。”“请你们在这里等一等，”尉官说。他拿着我们的护照到里面去。“你真行，亲爱的，”
凯瑟琳说。“你就这样子讲下去好啦。你尽管说你想玩冬季运动。”
“美术的事你知道一些吧？”
“鲁本斯③，”凯瑟琳说。“画的人物又大又胖，”我说。
“提香①，”凯瑟琳说。“提香画上的橙红色头发，”我说。“曼坦那① 怎么样？”“别问我那些难的，”凯瑟琳说。“这画家我倒知道——很苦。”
“很苦，”我说。“许多钉痕②。”“你看，我会给你做个好老婆的，”凯瑟琳说。“我可以跟你的顾客谈美术。”
“他来了，”我说。那瘦削的尉官拿着我们的护照从海关屋子的那一头走过来。
“我得把你们送到洛迦诺去，”他说。“你们可以找部马车，由一名士兵和你们一块儿去。”
“好，”我说。“船呢？”
“船没收了。你们的提包里有什么东西？”
两只提包他都一一检查过，把一夸特瓶装的白兰地擎在手里。“赏光喝一杯吧？”我问。
“不，谢谢，”他挺直身子。“你身上有多少钱？”
“二千五百里拉。”
他听了印象很好。“你表妹呢？”
③ 马特龙峰是施特雷沙附近的高峰，有缆车直达山巅，俯瞰七个湖和米兰附近城镇。
① 举桨出水面时把桨面摆平，避免空气的阻力。
①鲁本斯（1577—1640）是佛兰德斯的名画家。
②提香（1477—1576）是意大利文艺复兴盛期威尼斯派最有名的画家。
凯瑟琳有一千二百里拉多一点。尉官很高兴。他对我们的态度不像方才那么傲慢了。
“倘若你想玩冬季运动，”他说。“文根可是个好地方。家父在那儿开了一家上好的旅馆。四季营业。”
“好极了，”我说。“你可否告诉我旅馆的名字？”
“我给你写在一张卡片上吧。”他很有礼貌地把卡片递给我。“士兵将把你们送到洛迦诺。你们的护照由他保管。对于这，我很抱歉，不过手续上非这么办不可。我相信到了洛迦诺，会给你一张签证或者发给你一张许可证。”
他把两份护照交给士兵，我们拎着提包到村子里去叫马车。“喂，”尉官叫那士兵道。他用德国土语给士兵讲了些什么。士兵把熗背上，过来替我们拿行李。
“这是个伟大的国家，”我对凯瑟琳说。
“非常实际。”
“非常感谢，”我对尉官说。他挥挥手。
“敬礼！”他说。我们跟着士兵上村子里去。
我们乘马车到洛迦诺，士兵和车夫一同坐在车前座位上。到了洛迦诺，人家待我们还好。他们盘问了我们，可是客客气气，因为我们有护照又有金钱。我们所答的话他们大概全不相信，我觉得全是胡闹，不过倒很像在上法庭。根本不谈什么合理不合理，只要法律上有所根据，那你就坚持下去，不必加以解释。不过我们有护照，又愿意花钱。他们于是给了我们临时签证。这种签证随时可以吊销。我们随便到什么地方，都得向局报到一下。我们随便什么地方都可以去吗？是的。我们要上哪儿去呢？“你想到哪儿去，凯特？”
“蒙特勒③。”
“那是个很好的地方，”官员说。“我想你们一定会欢喜那地方的。”
“这儿洛迦诺也很好，”另外一位官员说。“我相信你们一定会喜欢洛迦诺这地方的。洛迦诺是个很吸引人的胜地。”
“我们想找个有冬季运动的地点。”
“蒙特勒没有冬季运动。”
“对不起，”另外一位官员说。“我是蒙特勒人。在蒙特勒-伯尔尼高原铁路沿线当然有冬季运动。你要否认就错啦。”
“我并不否认。我只是说蒙特勒没有冬季运动。”
“我不同意这句话，”另外一位官员说。“我不同意你这句话。”“我坚持我这句话。”
“我不同意你这句话。我本人就曾乘小雪橇④进入蒙特勒的街道。并且不是一次，而是好几次。乘小雪橇当然是一种冬季运动。”另外一位官员转对我。
“请问，先生的冬季运动就是乘小雪橇吗？我告诉你，洛迦诺这地方很舒服。气候有利健康，环境幽美迷人。你一定会很喜欢的。”“这位先生已经表示要到蒙特勒去。”
③曼坦那（1431—1506）为意大利画家，名画有《哀悼》。
④ 指他在的尸体上画出钉十字架的钉痕，极其逼真动人。
“乘小雪橇是怎么回事？”我问。
“你瞧，人家连乘小雪橇都没听见过哩！”
第二位官员听了我的问话，觉得对他很有利。他非常高兴。“小雪橇，”
第一位官员说，“就是平底雪橇①。”“对不起，”另外一位官员摇头说。“我可又得提出不同的意见。平底雪橇和小雪橇大不相同。平底雪橇是在加拿大用平板做成的。小雪橇只是普通的雪车，装上滑板罢了。讲求精确是有相当道理的。”
“我们乘平底雪橇行吗？”我问。
“当然行，”第一位官员说。“你们大可以乘平底雪橇。蒙特勒有上好的加拿大平底雪橇出售。奥克斯兄弟公司就有得卖。他们的平底雪橇是特地进口的。”
第二位官员把头掉开去。“乘平底雪橇，”他说，“得有特制的滑雪道。你无法乘平底雪橇进入蒙特勒的市街。你们现在住在这里什么地方？”“我们还不知道，”我说。“我们刚从勃里萨哥赶车来。车子还停在外边。”
“你们上蒙特勒去，包你没有错儿，”第一位官员说。“那儿的天气又可爱又美丽。离开冬季运动的场地又不远。”
“你们当真要玩冬季运动的话，”第二位官员说，“应当上恩加丁或穆伦去。人家叫你们上蒙特勒去玩冬季运动，我必须提出。”“蒙特勒北面的莱沙峰可以进行各种很好的冬季运动。”蒙特勒的拥护者瞪起眼睛瞧着他的同事。
“长官，”我说，“我们可得走了。我的表妹很疲乏。我们暂定到蒙特勒去吧。”
“恭喜你们，”第一位官员握握我的手。
“你们离开洛迦诺会后悔的，”第二位官员说。“无论如何，你们到了蒙特勒，得向局报到。”
“局不会有什么麻烦的，”第一位官员安慰我。“那儿的居民非常客气友好。”
“非常感谢你们二位，”我说。“承你们二位的指点，我们十分感激。”
“再会，”凯瑟琳说。“非常感谢你们二位。”
他们鞠躬送我们到门口，那个洛迦诺的拥护者比较冷淡点。我们下了台阶，跨上马车。
“天啊，亲爱的，”凯瑟琳说。“难道我们没法子早点离开吗？”我把那个瑞士官员介绍的旅馆名字告诉了车夫。车夫把马缰绳拉起来。“你忘记陆军了，”凯瑟琳说。那士兵还站在马车边。我给他一张十里拉钞票。“我还没调换瑞士钞票，”我说。他谢谢我，行个礼走了。马车朝旅馆驶去。
“你怎么会挑选蒙特勒呢？”我问凯瑟琳。“你果真想到那儿去吗？”
“我当时第一个想得起来的就是这个地名，”她说。“那地方不错。我们可以在高山上找个地方住。”
“你困吗？”
“我现在就睡着了啊。”
“我们好好睡它一觉吧。可怜的凯特，你熬了又长又苦的一夜。”
“我觉得才有趣呢，”凯瑟琳说。“尤其是当你用伞当帆行驶的时候。”
① 瑞士西南部一疗养城市，位于日内瓦湖东端。
“你体会到我们已经在瑞士了吗？”
“不，我只怕醒来时发现不是真的。”
“我也是。”
“这是真的吧，不是吗，亲爱的？我不是在米兰赶车子上车站给你送行吧？”
“希望不是。”
“别这么说。说来叫我惊慌。那也许就是我们正要去的地方。”
“我现在昏头昏脑，什么都不知道，”我说。
“让我看看你的手。”
我抽出双手。两手都起泡发肿。
“我胁旁可没钉痕②，”我说。
“不要亵渎。”
我非常疲乏，头脑昏昏沉沉。初到时那种兴奋现在都消失了。马车顺着街道走。
“可怜的手，”凯瑟琳说。
“不要碰，”我说。“天知道我们究竟在什么地方。我们上哪儿去啊，车夫？”车夫拉住马。
“上大都会旅馆。难道你不想去吗？”
“要去，”我说。“没事了，凯特。”
“没事了，亲爱的。你别烦恼。我们要好好睡一觉，你明天就不会头昏了。”
“我相当糊涂了，”我说。“今天真像是场滑稽戏。也许是我肚子饿了的关系。”
“你不过是身体疲乏罢了，亲爱的。过些时候就会好的。”马车在旅馆前停下了。有人出来接行李。
“我觉得没事，”我说。我们下车踏上人行道，往旅馆里走。“我知道你会没事的。只是身体疲乏罢了。你好久没有睡觉了。”“我们总算到这儿了。”
“是的，我们真的到这儿了。”
我们跟着提行李的小郎走进旅馆。
②原文为luge，是瑞士供比赛用的一种仰卧滑行的单人小雪橇。
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BOOK FIVE CHAPTER 38
That fall the snow came very late. We lived in a brown wooden house in the pine trees on the side of the mountain and at night there was frost so that there was thin ice over the water in the two pitchers on the dresser in the morning. Mrs. Guttingen came into the room early in the morning to shut the windows and started a fire in the tall porcelain stove. The pine wood crackled and sparked and then the fire roared in the stove and the second time Mrs. Guttingen came into the room she brought big chunks of wood for the fire and a pitcher of hot water. When the room was warm she brought in breakfast. Sitting up in bed eating breakfast we could see the lake and the mountains across the lake on the French side. There was snow on the tops of the mountains and the lake was a gray steel-blue.
Outside, in front of the chalet a road went up the mountain. The wheel ruts and ridges were iron hard with the frost, and the road climbed steadily through the forest and up and around the mountain to where there were meadows, and barns and cabins in the meadows at the edge of the woods looking across the valley. The valley was deep and there was a stream at the bottom that flowed down into the lake and when the wind blew across the valley you could hear the stream in the rocks.
Sometimes we went off the road and on a path through the pine forest. The floor of the forest was soft to walk on; the frost did not harden it as it did the road. But we did not mind the hardness of the road because we had nails in the soles and heels of our boots and the heel nails bit on the frozen ruts and with nailed boots it was good walking on the road and invigorating. But it was lovely walking in the woods.
In front of the house where we lived the mountain went down steeply to the little plain along the lake and we sat on the porch of the house in the sun and saw the winding of the road down the mountain-side and the terraced vineyards on the side of the lower mountain, the vines all dead now for the winter and the fields divided by stone walls, and below the vineyards the houses of the town on the narrow plain along the lake shore. There was an island with two trees on the lake and the trees looked like the double sails of a fishing-boat. The mountains were sharp and steep on the other side of the lake and down at the end of the lake was the plain of the Rhone Valley flat between the two ranges of mountains; and up the valley where the mountains cut it off was the Dent du Midi. It was a high snowy mountain and it dominated the valley but it was so far away that it did not make a shadow.
When the sun was bright we ate lunch on the porch but the rest of the time we ate upstairs in a small room with plain wooden walls and a big stove in the corner. We bought books and magazines in the town and a copy of "Hoyle" and learned many two-handed card games. The small room with the stove was our living-room. There were two comfortable chairs and a table for books and magazines and we played cards on the dining-table when it was cleared away. Mr. and Mrs. Guttingen lived downstairs and we would hear them talking sometimes in the evening and they were very happy together too. He had been a headwaiter and she had worked as maid in the same hotel and they had saved their money to buy this place. They had a son who was studying to be a headwaiter. He was at a hotel in Zurich. Downstairs there was a parlor where they sold wine and beer, and sometimes in the evening we would hear carts stop outside on the road and men come up the steps to go in the parlor to drink wine.
There was a box of wood in the hall outside the living-room and I kept up the fire from it. But we did not stay up very late. We went to bed in the dark in the big bedroom and when I was undressed I opened the windows and saw the night and the cold stars and the pine trees below the window and then got into bed as fast as I could. It was lovely in bed with the air so cold and clear and the night outside the window. We slept well and if I woke in the night I knew it was from only one cause and I would shift the feather bed over, very softly so that Catherine would not be wakened and then go back to sleep again, warm and with the new lightness of thin covers. The war seemed as far away as the football games of some one else's college. But I knew from the papers that they were still fighting in the mountains because the snow would not come.
Sometimes we walked down the mountain into Montreux. There was a path went down the mountain but it was steep and so usually we took the road and walked down on the wide hard road between fields and then below between the stone walls of the vineyards and on down between the houses of the villages along the way. There were three villages; Chernex, Fontanivent, and the other I forget. Then along the road we passed an old square-built stone ch鈚eau on a ledge on the side of the mountain-side with the terraced fields of vines, each vine tied to a stick to hold it up, the vines dry and brown and the earth ready for the snow and the lake down below flat and gray as steel. The road went down a long grade below the cheau and then turned to the right and went down very steeply and paved with cobbles, into Montreux.
We did not know any one in Montreux. We walked along beside the lake and saw the swans and the many gulls and terns that flew up when you came close and screamed while they looked down at the water. Out on the lake there were flocks of grebes, small and dark, and leaving trails in the water when they swam.
In the town we walked along the main street and looked in the windows of the shops. There were many big hotels that were closed but most of the shops were open and the people were very glad to see us. There was a fine coiffeur's place where Catherine went to have her hair done. The woman who ran it was very cheerful and the only person we knew in Montreux. While Catherine was there I went up to a beer place and drank dark Munich beer and read the papers. I read the Corriere della Sera and the English and American papers from paris. All the advertisements were blacked out, supposedly to prevent communication in that way with the enemy. The papers were bad reading. Everything was going very badly everywhere. I sat back in the corner with a heavy mug of dark beer and an opened glazed-paper package of pretzels and ate the pretzels for the salty flavor and the good way they made the beer taste and read about disaster. I thought Catherine would come by but she did not come, so I hung the papers back on the rack, paid for my beer and went up the street to look for her. The day was cold and dark and wintry and the stone of the houses looked cold. Catherine was still in the hairdresser's shop. The woman was waving her hair. I sat in the little booth and watched. It was exciting to watch and Catherine smiled and talked to me and my voice was a little thick from being excited. The tongs made a pleasant clicking sound and I could see Catherine in three mirrors and it was pleasant and warm in the booth. Then the woman put up Catherine's hair, and Catherine looked in the mirror and changed it a little, taking out and putting in pins; then stood up. "I'm sorry to have taken such a long time."
"Monsieur was very interested. Were you not, monsieur?" the woman smiled.
"Yes," I said.
We went out and up the street. It was cold and wintry and the wind was blowing. "Oh, darling, I love you so," I said.
"Don't we have a fine time?" Catherine said. "Look. Let's go some place and have beer instead of tea. It's very good for young Catherine. It keeps her small."
"Young Catherine," I said. "That loafer."
"She's been very good," Catherine said. "She makes very little trouble. The doctor says beer will be good for me and keep her small."
"If you keep her small enough and she's a boy, maybe he will be a jockey."
"I suppose if we really have this child we ought to get married," Catherine said. We were in the beer place at the corner table. It was getting dark outside. It was still early but the day was dark and the dusk was coming early.
"Let's get married now," I said.
"No," Catherine said. "It's too embarrassing now. I show too plainly. I won't go before any one and be married in this state."
"I wish we'd gotten married."
"I suppose it would have been better. But when could we, darling?"
"I don't know."
"I know one thing. I'm not going to be married in this splendid matronly state."
"You're not matronly."
"Oh yes, I am, darling. The hairdresser asked me if this was our first. I lied and said no, we had two boys and two girls."
"When will we be married?"
"Any time after I'm thin again. We want to have a splendid wedding with every one thinking what a handsome young couple."
"And you're not worried?"
"Darling, why should I be worried? The only time I ever felt badly was when I felt like a whore in Milan and that only lasted seven minutes and besides it was the room furnishings. Don't I make you a good wife?"
"You're a lovely wife."
"Then don't be too technical, darling. I'll marry you as soon as I'm thin again."
"All right."
"Do you think I ought to drink another beer? The doctor said I was rather narrow in the hips and it's all for the best if we keep young Catherine small."
"What else did he say?" I was worried.
"Nothing. I have a wonderful blood-pressure, darling. He admired my blood-pressure greatly."
"What did he say about you being too narrow in the hips?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all. He said I shouldn't ski."
"Quite right."
"He said it was too late to start if I'd never done it before. He said I could ski if I wouldn't fall down."
"He's just a big-hearted joker."
"Really he was very nice. We'll have him when the baby comes."
"Did you ask him if you ought to get married?"
"No. I told him we'd been married four years. You see, darling, if I marry you I'll be an American and any time we're married under American law the child is legitimate."
"Where did you find that out?"
"In the New York World Almanac in the library."
"You're a grand girl."
"I'll be very glad to be an American and we'll go to America won't we, darling? I want to see Niagara Falls."
"You're a fine girl."
"There's something else I want to see but I can't remember it."
"The stockyards?"
"No. I can't remember it."
"The Woolworth building?"
''No."
"The Grand Canyon?"
"No. But I'd like to see that."
"What was it?"
"The Golden Gate! That's what I want to see. Where is the Golden Gate?"
"San Francisco."
"Then let's go there. I want to see San Francisco anyway."
"All right. We'll go there."
"Now let's go up the mountain. Should we? Can we get the M.O.B.?"
"There's a train a little after five."
"Let's get that."
"All right. I'll drink one more beer first."
When we went out to go up the street and climb the stairs to the station it was very cold. A cold wind was coming down the Rhone Valley. There were lights in the shop windows and we climbed the steep stone stairway to the upper street, then up another stairs to the station. The electric train was there waiting, all the lights on. There was a dial that showed when it left. The clock hands pointed to ten minutes after five. I looked at the station clock. It was five minutes after. As we got on board I saw the motorman and conductor coming out of the station wine-shop. We sat down and opened the window. The train was electrically heated and stuffy but fresh cold air came in through the window.
"Are you tired, Cat?" I asked.
"No. I feel splendid."
"It isn't a long ride."
"I like the ride," she said. "Don't worry about me, darling. I feel fine."
Snow did not come until three days before Christmas. We woke one morning and it was snowing. We stayed in bed with the fire roaring in the stove and watched the snow fall. Mrs. Guttingen took away the breakfast trays and put more wood in the stove. It was a big snow storm. She said it had started about midnight. I went to the window and looked out but could not see across the road. It was blowing and snowing wildly. I went back to bed and we lay and talked.
"I wish I could ski," Catherine said. "It's rotten not to be able to ski."
"We'll get a bobsled and come down the road. That's no worse for you than riding in a car."
"Won't it be rough?"
"We can see."
"I hope it won't be too rough."
"After a while we'll take a walk in the snow."
"Before lunch," Catherine said, "so we'll have a good appetite."
"I'm always hungry."
"So am I."
We went out in the snow but it was drifted so that we could not walk far. I went ahead and made a trail down to the station but when we reached there we had gone far enough. The snow was blowing so we could hardly see and we went into the little inn by the station and swept each other off with a broom and sat on a bench and had vermouths.
"It is a big storm," the barmaid said.
"Yes."
"The snow is very late this year."
"Yes."
"Could I eat a chocolate bar?" Catherine asked. "Or is it too close to lunch? I'm always hungry."
"Go on and eat one," I said.
"I'll take one with filberts," Catherine said.
"They are very good," the girl said, "I like them the best."
"I'll have another vermouth," I said.
When we came out to start back up the road our track was filled in by the snow. There were only faint indentations where the holes had been. The snow blew in our faces so we could hardly see. We brushed off and went in to have lunch. Mr. Guttingen served the lunch.
"To-morrow there will be ski-ing," he said. "Do you ski, Mr. Henry?"
"No. But I want to learn."
"You will learn very easily. My boy will be here for Christmas and he will teach you."
"That's fine. When does he come?"
"To-morrow night."
When we were sitting by the stove in the little room after lunch looking out the window at the snow coming down Catherine said, "Wouldn't you like to go on a trip somewhere by yourself, darling, and be with men and ski?"
"No. Why should I?"
"I should think sometimes you would want to see other people besides me."
"Do you want to see other people?"
"No."
"Neither do I."
"I know. But you're different. I'm having a child and that makes me contented not to do anything. I know I'm awfully stupid now and I talk too much and I think you ought to get away so you won't be tired of me."
"Do you want me to go away?"
"No. I want you to stay."
"That's what I'm going to do."
"Come over here," she said. "I want to feel the bump on your head. It's a big bump." She ran her finger over it. "Darling, would you like to grow a beard?"
"Would you like me to?"
"It might be fun. I'd like to see you with a beard."
"All right. I'll grow one. I'll start now this minute. It's a good idea. It will give me something to do."
"Are you worried because you haven't anything to do?"
"No. I like it. I have a fine life. Don't you?"
"I have a lovely life. But I was afraid because I'm big now that maybe I was a bore to you."
"Oh, Cat. You don't know how crazy I am about you."
"This way?"
"Just the way you are. I have a fine time. Don't we have a good life?"
"I do, but I thought maybe you were restless."
"No. Sometimes I wonder about the front and about people I know but I don't worry. I don't think about anything much."
"Who do you wonder about?"
"About Rinaldi and the priest and lots of people I know. But I don't think about them much. I don't want to think about the war. I'm through with it."
"What are you thinking about now?"
"Nothing."
"Yes you were. Tell me."
"I was wondering whether Rinaldi had the syphilis."
"Was that all?"
"Yes."
"Has he the syphilis?"
"I don't know."
"I'm glad you haven't. Did you ever have anything like that?"
"I had gonorrhea."
"I don't want to hear about it. Was it very painful, darling?"
"Very."
"I wish I'd had it."
"No you don't."
"I do. I wish I'd had it to be like you. I wish I'd stayed with all your girls so I could make fun of them to you."
"That's a pretty picture."
"It's not a pretty picture you having gonorrhea."
"I know it. Look at it snow now."
"I'd rather look at you. Darling, why don't you let your hair grow?"
"How grow?"
"Just grow a little longer."
"It's long enough now."
"No, let it grow a little longer and I could cut mine and we'd be just alike only one of us blonde and one of us dark."
"I wouldn't let you cut yours."
"It would be fun. I'm tired of it. It's an awful nuisance in the bed at night."
"I like it."
"Wouldn't you like it short?"
"I might. I like it the way it is."
"It might be nice short. Then we'd both be alike. Oh, darling, I want you so much I want to be you too."
"You are. We're the same one."
"I know it. At night we are."
"The nights are grand."
"I want us to be all mixed up. I don't want you to go away. I just said that. You go if you want to. But hurry right back. Why, darling, I don't live at all when I'm not with you."
"I won't ever go away," I said. "I'm no good when you're not there. I haven't any life at all any more."
"I want you to have a life. I want you to have a fine life. But we'll have it together, won't we?"
"And now do you want me to stop growing my beard or let it go on?"
"Go on. Grow it. It will be exciting. Maybe it will be done for New Year's."
"Now do you want to play chess?"
"I'd rather play with you."
"No. Let's play chess."
"And afterward we'll play?"
"Yes."
"All right."
I got out the chess-board and arranged the pieces. It was still snowing hard outside.
One time in the night I woke up and knew that Catherine was awake too. The moon was shining in the window and made shadows on the bed from the bars on the window-panes.
"Are you awake, sweetheart?"
"Yes. Can't you sleep?"
"I just woke up thinking about how I was nearly crazy when I first met you. Do you remember?"
"You were just a little crazy."
"I'm never that way any more. I'm grand now. You say grand so sweetly. Say grand."
"Grand."
"Oh, you're sweet. And I'm not crazy now. I'm just very, very, very happy."
"Go on to sleep," I said.
"All right. Let's go to sleep at exactly the same moment."
"All right."
But we did not. I was awake for quite a long time thinking about things and watching Catherine sleeping, the moonlight on her face. Then I went to sleep, too.

第五部 第三十八章
那年秋天的雪下得很晚。我们住在山坡上松树环绕的一幢褐色木屋里，夜间降霜，梳妆台上那两只水罐在早上便结有一层薄冰。戈丁根太太一大早就进房来，把窗子关好，在那高高的瓷炉中生起火来。松木啪啪地爆裂，喷射火花，不久炉子里便火光熊熊，而戈丁根太太第二次进来时，就带来一罐热水和一些供炉火用的大块木头。等房间里暖和了，她把早餐端进来。我们坐在床上吃早点时，望得见湖③和湖对面法国境内的山峰。山峰顶上有雪，湖则是灰蒙蒙的钢青色。
在外边，我们这农舍式别墅前，有一条上山的路。车辙和两边隆起的地方被冰霜冻结得铁一样坚硬，山道不断地一路上坡，穿过森林，上了高山，盘来绕去，到了有草地的地方；草地那儿的树林边有些仓房和木屋，俯瞰着山谷。山谷很深，谷底有一条溪水流进湖中，有时风从山谷那边吹来，我们能听见岩石间的琮水声。
我们有时离开山道，转上穿过松林的小径。森林里边的地走起来软绵绵的；冰霜还没把它凝结得像山路那么坚硬。但是我们不大在乎山道的坚硬，因为我们靴子的前后跟都钉有铁钉，而后跟的铁钉扎进冰冻的车辙，所以穿着钉靴在山道上走，很是惬意，而且还能激发精神。而在森林里走也美得很。
在我们屋前，高山峻峭地倾落到湖边的小平原，我们坐在门廊的阳光下，看着山道弯曲地顺着山坡延伸下去，还有低一点的山坡上的梯田形的葡萄园，现在因为是冬季，葡萄藤早已凋谢，园地中间有石墙隔开，而葡萄园底下便是蒙特勒的房屋。那城建在一条狭窄的平原上，沿着湖岸。湖中有个小岛，上面有两棵树，远远望去，真像一条渔船上的双帆。湖对面的山峰险峻削立，而在湖的尽头就是罗纳河①河谷，那是夹在两道山脉间的一片平原；河谷南端给山峰切断的地方，就是唐都米蒂①。那是座积雪的巍巍高山，俯视着整个河谷，不过距离太远，没有投下阴影。
阳光明亮时，我们在门廊上吃中饭，否则就在楼上一间小房间里吃。那房间四面是素色的木壁，角落里有只大炉子。我们在城里买了书籍杂志，还有一本《霍伊尔氏纸牌戏大全》，学会了许多两人玩的纸牌戏。这个装炉子的小房间就是我们的起居室。里边有两张舒服的椅子和一张放书籍杂志的桌子，饭桌收拾干净后我们就可以玩纸牌。戈丁根夫妇住在楼下，我们有时在傍晚听得见他们的谈话声，他们过着很快乐幸福的生活。男的原是旅馆的茶房领班，女的当过同一旅馆的侍女，他们积了钱，买下了这个地方。他们有个儿子，正在学习当茶房领班。学习的地点在苏黎世①一家旅馆。楼底下还有个客厅，夫妇俩在里面卖葡萄酒和啤酒，夜晚有时候我们听得见外边路上有车子停下，有人走上台阶到客厅里去喝酒。
③原文为toboggan，是一种平底长橇，通常有低扶手。
① 耶稣被钉十字架后复活，来到门徒们中间，有一位门徒多马不相信，说“我非看见他手上的钉痕，用指头探入那钉痕，又用手探入他的胁旁”。后来耶稣果然向多马显现了。见《圣经·约翰福音》第20 章。
① 蒙特勒在日内瓦湖的东端。本章以后所提的湖，都是指日内瓦湖。
① 罗纳河从日内瓦湖的东南端注入该湖，再从西南端流进法国，朝南注入马赛西面的狮子湾。
我们起居室外边的走廊上放有一箱子木头，我用来使炉火不灭。但是我们睡得并不太晚。在那大卧房里，我们在黑暗中上床，我脱了衣服，便去打开窗子，看夜色、寒冷的星星和窗下的松树，接着赶快上床。空气是这么寒冷清新，窗外有这么的夜景，躺在床上实在太美了。我们睡得很好，夜里倘若醒来的话，我知道那只是出于一个原因，于是我把羽绒被揭开，干得轻手轻脚，免得惊醒凯瑟琳，接着又睡着了，温温暖暖，因为盖的被子少了一点，更为轻松。战争似乎离得很远，好比是别人的大学里举行的足球比赛。但是我从报上看到，他们还在高山间作战，因为雪还没落下来。
有时我们下山走到蒙特勒去。本来有一条下山的小径，可是太陡峭，所以通常我们还是走山道，由山道往下走到田野间那条坚硬的宽路上，接着又往下在葡萄园的石墙间走，再往下便在村子的房屋间走了。那儿一共有三个村子：瑟涅，封达尼凡，还有一个我忘了。再往前走，我们经过一座古老的方形石头城堡，它在山坡边一个崖架上，山坡上有一层层的葡萄园，每棵葡萄都绑在一根杆子上，以免它倒塌下来，葡萄树早已干枯，呈褐色，泥土在等着落雪，底下的湖面平平的，色灰如钢。下山的路在城堡下成为一段很长的坡路，向右拐弯，路改用圆石子铺了，险峻地转入蒙特勒。
我们在蒙特勒一个人也不认识。我们沿湖溜溜，看看天鹅，还有许多鸥和燕鸥，有人走近来便成群飞走，一边俯视着水面，一边尖声啼叫。湖中有一群群䴙■，又小又黑，在湖上游水时，后面留下一道道水痕。我们在城里的大街上走走，望望橱窗。城里有好些大旅馆，现在都关门了，不过大部分的店铺都还开着，人们也喜欢见到我们。那里有家很好的理发店，凯瑟琳总是在那儿做头发。开这店的是个女人，人很愉快，我们在蒙特勒只认得这个人。凯瑟琳理发的时候，我就到一家啤酒店去喝喝慕尼黑黑啤酒，看看报。我看意大利的《晚邮报》和从巴黎转来的英美报纸。报上所有的广告都用黑墨水涂掉了，据说是预防奸细和敌军私通消息。报纸读起来不愉快。处处地方的情况糟透了。我靠坐在一个角落里，对着一大杯黑啤酒和一包已打开的光面纸包的椒盐卷饼，一边吃带咸味的卷饼来下啤酒，一边看报上悲惨的战事新闻。我本以为凯瑟琳会来的，但结果没有来，只好把报纸放回架子上，付了啤酒账，上街去找她。那天天冷，天气又暗，一片寒冬景象，连房屋的石头看起来也是寒冷的。凯瑟琳还在理发店里。那女人正在给她烫头发。我坐在小间里旁观。看着真叫人兴奋。凯瑟琳对我笑笑，还和我谈话，我因为人很兴奋，话音有点口齿不清。卷发的铁钳发出悦耳的嗒嗒声，我可以从三面镜子里看到凯瑟琳，而我那小间又温暖又舒服。接着理发师把凯瑟琳的头发向上梳好，凯瑟琳照照镜子，修改了一下，在有些地方抽掉发针，有些地方插上发针；然后站起身来。“对不起，累你等得这么久。”
“先生很感兴趣。不是吗，先生？”女人笑着问。
“是的，”我回答。
我们出门走上街头。街上又寒冷又冷落，又刮起了风。“哦，亲爱的，我太爱你了，”我说。
“我们不是过着快活的日子吗？”凯瑟琳说。“喂，我们找个地方去喝啤酒，不要喝茶。这对小凯瑟琳很有好处。能叫她长得细小。”
“小凯瑟琳，”我说。“那个小浪荡鬼。”
“她一直很乖，”凯瑟琳说。“她简直没给你什么麻烦。医生说啤酒对我有益，同时能叫她长得细小。”“你这么叫她长得细小，倘若是个男孩的话，将来也许可以当骑师。”“我们果真要把这孩子生下来的话，总得结婚吧，”凯瑟琳说。我们坐在啤酒店角落里的桌子边。外边天在黑下来。其实时间还早，只是天本来阴暗，暮色又降临得早。
“我们现在就结婚去，”我说。
“不，”凯瑟琳说。“现在太窘了。我这样子太明显了。我这样子站在谁面前结婚都太难堪了。”
“我倒希望我们已经结了婚。”
“结了婚也许是好一点吧。但是我们什么时候可以结婚呢，亲爱的？”
“我不知道。”
“我只知道一件事。在这像奶奶太太般的大腹便便的情况下，我不结婚。”
“你哪里像个奶奶太太。”
“哦，我像得很，亲爱的。理发师问我这是不是我的头胎。我撒谎说不是，我说我们已经有了两个男孩和两个女孩。”
“我们什么时候结婚呢？”
“等我身体瘦下来，随时都行。我们来个好好的婚礼，叫人人称赞你我是一对多么漂亮的少年夫妻。”
“你不忧愁吗？”
“亲爱的，我为什么要忧愁？我只有一次不好过，那是在米兰，我觉得自己像是个妓女，不过那难受也只有七八分钟，还都是因为旅馆房间内的陈设的关系。难道我不是你的好妻子吗？”
“你是个可爱的妻子。”
“那就不要太拘泥形式了，亲爱的。我一瘦下来就和你结婚。”“好的。”
“你想我应该再喝一杯啤酒吗？医生说我的臀部太窄，所以最好叫我们的小凯瑟琳长得细小。”
“他还说什么啊？”我担心起来。
“没什么。我的血压很奇妙，亲爱的。他非常称赞我的血压。”“关于你的臀部太窄，他说了什么？”
“没什么。什么都没说。他说我不可以滑雪。”
“很对。”
“他说我滑雪没学过的话。现在来学可太晚了。他说我可以滑雪，只要我不摔跤。”
“他真会开玩笑。”
“他人倒是挺好的。我们将来就请他接生吧。”
“你可曾问他我们该不该结婚？”
“没有。我告诉他我们已结婚四年了。你瞧，亲爱的，我要是嫁给你，我便成为美国人，所以我们随便什么时候根据美国法律结婚，孩子就是合法的。”
“你从哪儿打听出来的啊？”
“从图书馆里的一部纽约的《世界年鉴》上。”
“你真行。”
“我很喜欢做美国人，我们以后到美国去，好吗，亲爱的？我要去看看尼阿加拉瀑布②。”“你是个好姑娘。”
“还有一件东西我要看，但我一时想不起来了。”
“屠场③？”
“不是。我记不得了。”
“伍尔沃思大厦①？”“不是。”
“大峡谷②？”
“不是。不过这我也想看看。”
“那么是什么呢？”
“金门③！这就是我要看的。金门在哪儿？”“旧金山。”
“那我们就上那儿去吧。我本来就想观光旧金山的。”
“好。我们就上那儿去。”
“现在我们就回山上去。好吧？我们赶得上登山缆车吗？”
“五点过一点有一班车子。”
“我们就赶这一班车子。”
“好的。等我再喝一杯啤酒。”
我们出了酒店，走上街，爬上到车站去的台阶，天气异常寒冷，一股寒风从罗纳河河谷直刮下来。街上的店窗里点着灯，我们爬上陡峭的石阶到了上边一条街，又爬了一段石阶，才到车站。电气火车在那儿等着，车里的灯都开着。那里有个钟面，指明开车的时间。钟面上的长短针指着五点十分。我再看看车站里的时钟，五点零五分。我们上车时，我看见司机和卖票员正从车站酒店里出来。我们坐下了，打开窗子。火车上用电气设备取暖，很是气闷，不过窗子外有新鲜的冷空气送进来。
“你疲倦吗，凯特？”我问。
“不。我感觉良好。”
“路程并不远。”
“我喜欢乘这车子，”她说。“你不必替我操心，亲爱的。我感觉良好。”
雪到圣诞节前三天才落下来。有一天早晨，我们醒来才知道在下雪。房间里的炉子火光熊熊，我们呆在床上，看着外边在纷纷下雪。戈丁根太太端走了早餐的托盘，在炉子里添了些木柴。那是一场大风雪。她说雪是半夜左右开始下的。我走到窗边望出去，看不清楚路对面。风刮得呼呼响，雪花乱舞。我回到床上，我们躺下来交谈。
“我很希望能够滑雪，”凯瑟琳说。“不能滑雪真太糟了。”“我们找部连橇到路上走走去吧。那就像乘普通车子一般，没什么危险。”
“颠动得厉害吗？”
“我们等着瞧吧。”
“希望不要颠动得太厉害。”
“等一会儿我们到雪上溜溜去。”
② 瑞士高山，在蒙特勒南，高达10，690 英尺。
③ 苏黎世是瑞士北部主要工业城市。
① 尼阿加拉瀑布在纽约州西北端和加拿大接壤的尼阿加拉河上，是美国男女的蜜月胜地。
② 指芝加哥市的宰牛场。美国作家厄普顿·辛克莱曾根据这地方的内幕写成长篇小说《屠场》，于1906 年出版，轰动一时。
③ 纽约市的一家百货公司，当时是世界上最高的建筑物。
“中饭前去吧，”凯瑟琳说，“散步可以开开胃口。”
“我总是肚子饿。”
“我也是。”
我们到外面去踏雪，但是风刮着积雪，我们没能走多远。我在前头走，打开一条路来，一直走到车站就再也走不下去了。雪花乱舞，我们看不见前面的东西，只好走进车站旁边的一家小酒店，拿把刷帚，彼此扫去身上的雪，坐在一条长凳上喝味美思。
“这是场大风雪，”女招待说。
“是的。”
“今年雪下得很晚。”
“是的。”
“我可以吃条巧克力吗？”凯瑟琳问。“也许太近午饭时间了吧？我总是肚子饿。”
“吃一条好啦，”我说。
“我要吃一条有榛子的，”凯瑟琳说。
“是很好吃的，”女招待说。“我最喜欢吃这一种。”
“我再来杯味美思，”我说。
我们出了酒店往回走，方才用脚踩出来的那条小径现在又被雪遮没了。原来踩出的脚印只有微凹的痕迹了。雪扑打着我们的脸，我们几乎什么都看不见。我们掸掉身上的雪，进屋去吃中饭。戈丁根先生端上中饭。“明天可以滑雪，”他说。“你滑雪吗，亨利先生？”
“我不会。倒是想学学。”
“学起来很便当。我儿子回来过圣诞节，由他来教你吧。”“好极了。他什么时候来？”
“明天夜晚。”
饭后我们坐在小房间的炉子边，望着窗外的飞雪，凯瑟琳说，“亲爱的，你不想一个人到什么地方去跑一趟，跟男人们一起滑滑雪吗？”“不。我为什么要去？”
“我想你有时候，除了我以外，也会想见见其他人。”
“你可想见见其他人？”
“不想。”
“我也是。”
“我知道。但你是不同的。我因为怀着孩子，所以不做什么事也心安理得。我知道我现在十分笨拙，话又噜苏，你应当到外面溜达溜达去，才不至于讨厌我。”
“你要我走开吗？”
“不。我不要你走。”
“我本来就不想走。”
“上这儿来，”她说。“我要摸摸你头上那块肿块。这是个大肿块。”
她用手指在上边抚摸了一下。“亲爱的，你喜欢留胡子吗？”
“你要我留吗？”
“也许很有趣。我喜欢看看留起胡子来的你。”
“好的。我就留。现在就开始。这是个好主意。可以给我点事情做做。”
“你在愁着没事做吗？”
“不。我喜欢这种生活。这是一种很好的生活。你呢？”
“我觉得这生活太可爱了。我只是怕我现在肚子大了，也许会惹你厌烦。”
“哦，凯特。你就是不晓得我爱你爱得发疯了。”
“是爱着这样子的我吗？”
“就爱着这样子的你。我生活得很好。我们岂不是过着一种很好的生活吗？”
“我过得很好，不过就怕你有时想动动。”
“不。我有时也想知道前线和朋友们的消息，但是我不操心。我现在什么都不大想。”
“你想知道谁的消息呢？”
“雷那蒂，教士，还有好些我认得的人。但是我也不大想他们。我不愿想起战争。我和它没有关系了。”
“现在你在想什么？”
“没什么。”
“你正在想。告诉我。”
“我正在想，不晓得雷那蒂有没有得梅毒。”
“只是这件事吗？”
“是的。”
“他得了梅毒吗？”
“不晓得。”
“幸喜你没有得。你得过这一类的病没有？”
“我患过淋病。”
“我不喜欢听。很痛吗，亲爱的？”
“很痛。”
“我倒希望也得。”
“不，别胡说。”
“我讲真话。我希望像你一式一样。我希望你玩过的姐儿我都玩过，我就可以拿她们来笑话你。”
“这倒是一幅好看的图画。”
“你患淋病可不是一幅好看的图画。”
“我知道。你瞧现在在下雪了。”
“我宁愿看你。亲爱的，你为什么不把头发留起来？”
“怎么个留法？”
“留得稍为长一些。”
“现在已经够长了。”
“不，还要长一些，这样我可以把我的剪短，你我就一式一样了，只是一个黄头发一个黑头发。”
“我不让你剪短。”
“这一定有趣。长头发我已经厌烦了。夜里在床上时非常讨厌。”“我喜欢你的长头发。”
“短的你就不喜欢吗？”
“也许也喜欢。你现在这样子正好。”
“剪短也许很好。这样你我就一式一样了。哦，亲爱的，我这样的需要你，希望自己也就是你。”
“你就是我。我们是一个人。”
“我知道。夜里我们是的。”
“夜里真好。”
“我要我们的一切都混合为一体。我不要你走。我只是说说罢了。你要去，就去好了。不过要赶快回来。嘿，亲爱的，我一不和你在一起，就活得没有劲。”
“我永远不会走开的，”我说。“你不在的时候我就不行啦。我再也没有任何生活了。”
“我要你有生活。我要你有美好的生活。但是我们要一同过这生活，不是吗？”
“现在你要我不留胡子还是留胡子？”
“留。留起来。一定会叫人高兴的。也许新年时就留好了。”“你现在想下棋玩玩吗？”
“我宁愿玩玩你。”
“不。我们还是下棋吧。”
“下了棋我们再玩。”
“是的。”
“那么好吧。”
我把棋盘拿出来，摆好棋子。外边还在落着漫天大雪。
有一次我夜里醒来，知道凯瑟琳也醒了。月亮照在窗户上，窗玻璃上的框子在床上投下黑影。
“你醒了吗？亲爱的？”
“是的。你睡不着吗？”
“我刚刚醒来，想到我第一次见你时，人差不多疯了。你还记得吗？”
“当初你是稍微有一点疯。”
“我现在再也不是那样子了。我现在挺好。你说挺好说得真好听啊。说挺好。”
“挺好。”
“哦，你真可爱。而我现在已经不疯了。我只是非常、非常、非常的快乐幸福。”
“睡去吧，”我说。
“好的。我们同时同刻睡去。”
“好的。”
但是我们并没有同时同刻睡去。我还醒了好久，东想西想，看着凯瑟琳，月光照在她脸上。后来我也睡着了。
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BOOK FIVE CHAPTER 39
By the middle of January I had a beard and the winter had settled into bright cold days and hard cold nights. We could walk on the roads again. The snow was packed hard and smooth by the hay-sleds and wood-sledges and the logs that were hauled down the mountain. The snow lay over all the country, down almost to Montreux. The mountains on the other side of the lake were all white and the plain of the Rhone Valley was covered. We took long walks on the other side of the mountain to the Bains de l'Alliaz. Catherine wore hobnailed boots and a cape and carried a stick with a sharp steel point. She did not look big with the cape and we would not walk too fast but stopped and sat on logs by the roadside to rest when she was tired.
There was an inn in the trees at the Bains de l'Alliaz where the woodcutters stopped to drink, and we sat inside warmed by the stove and drank hot red wine with spices and lemon in it. They called it gluhwein and it was a good thing to warm you and to celebrate with. The inn was dark and smoky inside and afterward when you went out the cold air came sharply into your lungs and numbed the edge of your nose as you inhaled. We looked back at the inn with light coming from the windows and the woodcutters' horses stamping and jerking their heads outside to keep warm. There was frost on the hairs of their muzzles and their breathing made plumes of frost in the air. Going up the road toward home the road was smooth and slippery for a while and the ice orange from the horses until the wood-hauling track turned off. Then the road was clean-packed snow and led through the woods, and twice coming home in the evening, we saw foxes.
It was a fine country and every time that we went out it was fun.
"You have a splendid beard now," Catherine said. "It looks just like the woodcutters'. Did you see the man with the tiny gold earrings?"
"He's a chamois hunter," I said. "They wear them because they say it makes them hear better."
"Really? I don't believe it. I think they wear them to show they are chamois hunters. Are there chamois near here?"
"Yes, beyond the Dent de Jaman."
"It was fun seeing the fox."
"When he sleeps he wraps that tail around him to keep warm."
"It must be a lovely feeling."
"I always wanted to have a tail like that. Wouldn't it be fun if we had brushes like a fox?"
"It might be very difficult dressing."
"We'd have clothes made, or live in a country where it wouldn't make any difference."
"We live in a country where nothing makes any difference. Isn't it grand how we never see any one? You don't want to see people do you, darling?"
"No."
"Should we sit here just a minute? I'm a little bit tired."
We sat close together on the logs. Ahead the road went down through the forest.
"She won't come between us, will she? The little brat."
"No. We won't let her."
"How are we for money?"
"We have plenty. They honored the last sight draft."
"Won't your family try and get hold of you now they know you're in Switzerland?"
"probably. I'll write them something."
"Haven't you written them?"
"No. Only the sight draft."
"Thank God I'm not your family."
"I'll send them a cable."
"Don't you care anything about them?"
"I did, but we quarrelled so much it wore itself out."
"I think I'd like them. I'd probably like them very much."
"Let's not talk about them or I'll start to worry about them." After a while I said, "Let's go on if you're rested."
"I'm rested."
We went on down the road. It was dark now and the snow squeaked under our boots. The night was dry and cold and very clear.
"I love your beard," Catherine said. "It's a great success. It looks so stiff and fierce and it's very soft and a great pleasure."
"Do you like it better than without?"
"I think so. You know, darling, I'm not going to cut my hair now until after young Catherine's born. I look too big and matronly now. But after she's born and I'm thin again I'm going to cut it and then I'll be a fine new and different girl for you. We'll go together and get it cut, or I'll go alone and come and surprise you."
I did not say anything.
"You won't say I can't, will you?"
"No. I think it would be exciting."
"Oh, you're so sweet. And maybe I'd look lovely, darling, and be so thin and exciting to you and you'll fall in love with me all over again."
"Hell," I said, "I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?"
"Yes. I want to ruin you."
"Good," I said, "that's what I want too."

第五部 第三十九章
到了正月中旬，我的胡子留成了，这时冬季气候已很稳定，天天是明亮寒冷的白昼和凛冽的寒夜。我们又可以在山道上行走了。路上的积雪被运草的雪橇、装柴的雪车和从山上拖运下来的木材压挤得又结实又光滑。山野四下全给白雪遮盖，几乎一直遮盖到了蒙特勒。湖对面的高山一片雪白，罗纳河河谷的平原也给雪罩住了。我们到山的另一边去长途散步，直走到阿利亚兹温泉。凯瑟琳穿上有铁钉的靴子，披着披肩，拄着一根尾端有尖尖的钢包头的拐杖。她披着披肩，肚子看上去并不大，不过我们并不走得太快，她一疲乏，就在路边木材堆上休息休息。
阿利亚兹温泉的树丛间有家小酒店，是樵夫们歇脚喝酒的地方，我们也去坐在里边，一边烤炉子一边喝热的红葡萄酒，酒里面放有香料和柠檬。他们管这种酒叫格鲁怀因，拿这酒来取暖和庆祝取乐，那是再好也没有了。酒店里很暗，烟雾弥漫，后来一出门，冷空气猛然钻入胸腔，鼻尖冻得发麻。我们回头一望，看见酒店窗口射出来的灯光和樵夫们的马匹，那些牲口正在外边蹬脚摆头，抵御寒冷。马的口鼻部的汗毛结了霜，它们呼出的空气变成了一缕缕白气。回家上山的道路先是平整而滑溜，冰雪给马匹践踏成为橙黄色，这样一直到拖运木材的路与山道相交的地方。然后走到了盖着干干净净的白雪的山道上，穿过一些树林。傍晚回家的途上，我们两次见到了狐狸。
山居的景致很好，我们每次出去，都是尽兴而归。
“你现在胡子长得相当好看了，”凯瑟琳说。“跟樵夫们一式一样。你看到那个戴着小小的金耳环的男子没有？”
“他是个打小羚羊的猎人，”我说。“他们戴耳环，据说可以听得清楚一点。”
“真的？我不相信。依我看，戴耳环的目的只在于要人家知道他们是打羚羊的。附近有没有小羚羊？”
“有的，就在唐都贾蒙山后。”
“看到狐狸真有趣。”
“狐狸睡的时候，用尾巴缠住了身体取暖。”
“那一定是一种美好的感觉。”
“我老是想要有这么一条尾巴。我们要是有狐狸尾巴，岂不是怪有趣吗？”
“穿衣服可很困难。”
“我们定做特别的衣服，或者到一个不受拘束的国家去居住。”“我们现在这个地方就一点也不受人家的拘束。我们什么人都不见，岂不是挺好吗？你不想见人，对吧，亲爱的？”
“不想。”
“我们就坐在这儿休息一下好吗？我有点儿累了。”
我们就互相偎依着坐在木材上。山道向前穿过森林，往下面延伸。
“她不至于叫我们隔膜的吧？那个小淘气鬼。”
“不会的。我们不让她使我们有隔膜。”
“我们的钱怎么样？”
“我们有的是。他们承兑了我最近那张见票即付的支票。”“你现在人在瑞士，家里人知道了不会想法子找你吗？”
“也许吧。我要给他们写封信去。”
“你还没有写过吗？”
“没有。我只是开了张见票即付的支票。”
“谢天谢地，我不是你家里的人。”
“我发个电报给他们吧。”
“你跟他们完全没有感情吗？”
“本来还好，不过吵架吵得多，感情就淡薄了。”
“我想我会欢喜他们的。我大概会非常喜欢他们的。”
“别谈他们吧，一谈起来我就会操心啦。”过了一会我说，“我们走吧，要是你休息好了的话。”
“我休息好了。”
我们又在山道上走。现在天黑了，靴底下的雪吱吱作响。夜里又干又冷，非常清朗。
“我爱你的胡子，”凯瑟琳说。“这是个大成功。看起来又硬又凶狠，其实很软，非常好玩。”
“你更喜欢留胡子的我？”
“大概是吧。你知道，亲爱的，我要等到小凯瑟琳出生后再去剪发。我现在肚子太大，太像太太奶奶了。等她出生后，我人又瘦下来，我就去剪发，那时我会成为你的一个新奇而不同的女郎。我剪发时我们一起去，不，还是我独自个儿去，回来让你惊奇一下。”
我没说什么。
“你不会说我不可以剪发的吧？”
“不会的。一定很叫人兴奋。”
“哦，你太可爱了。到了那时，也许我又长得好看，亲爱的，又纤瘦又讨人欢喜，弄得你重新爱上了我。”
“该死，”我说。“我现在爱你已很够了，你要把我怎么样？毁坏我？”
“是的。我是要毁坏你。”
“好，”我说，“我要的正是这个。”


BOOK FIVE CHAPTER 40
We had a fine life. We lived through the months of January and February and the winter was very fine and we were very happy. There had been short thaws when the wind blew warm and the snow softened and the air felt like spring, but always the clear hard cold had come again and the winter had returned. In March came the first break in the winter. In the night it started raining. It rained on all morning and turned the snow to slush and made the mountain-side dismal. There were clouds over the lake and over the valley. It was raining high up the mountain. Catherine wore heavy overshoes and I wore Mr. Guttingen's rubber-boots and we walked to the station under an umbrella, through the slush and the running water that was washing the ice of the roads bare, to stop at the pub before lunch for a vermouth. Outside we could hear the rain.
"Do you think we ought to move into town?"
"What do you think?" Catherine asked.
"If the winter is over and the rain keeps up it won't be fun up here. How long is it before young Catherine?"
"About a month. perhaps a little more."
"We might go down and stay in Montreux."
"Why don't we go to Lausanne? That's where the hospital is."
"All right. But I thought maybe that was too big a town."
"We can be as much alone in a bigger town and Lausanne might be nice."
"When should we go?"
"I don't care. Whenever you want, darling. I don't want to leave here if you don't want."
"Let's see how the weather turns out."
It rained for three days. The snow was all gone now on the mountain-side below the station. The road was a torrent of muddy snow-water. It was too wet and slushy to go out. On the morning of the third day of rain we decided to go down into town.
"That is all right, Mr. Henry," Guttingen said. "You do not have to give me any notice. I did not think you would want to stay now the bad weather is come."
"We have to be near the hospital anyway on account of Madame," I said.
"I understand," he said. "Will you come back some time and stay, with the little one?"
"Yes, if you would have room."
"In the spring when it is nice you could come and enjoy it. We could put the little one and the nurse in the big room that is closed now and you and Madame could have your same room looking out over the lake."
"I'll write about coming," I said. We packed and left on the train that went down after lunch. Mr. and Mrs. Guttingen came down to the station with us and he hauled our baggage down on a sled through the slush. They stood beside the station in the rain waving good-by.
"They were very sweet," Catherine said.
"They were fine to us."
We took the train to Lausanne from Montreux. Looking out the window toward where we had lived you could not see the mountains for the clouds. The train stopped in Vevey, then went on, passing the lake on one side and on the other the wet brown fields and the bare woods and the wet houses. We came into Lausanne and went into a medium-sized hotel to stay. It was still raining as we drove through the streets and into the carriage entrance of the hotel. The concierge with brass keys on his lapels, the elevator, the carpets on the floors, and the white washbowls with shining fixtures, the brass bed and the big comfortable bedroom all seemed very great luxury after the Guttingens. The windows of the room looked out on a wet garden with a wall topped by an iron fence. Across the street, which sloped steeply, was another hotel with a similar wall and garden. I looked out at the rain falling in the fountain of the garden.
Catherine turned on all the lights and commenced unpacking. I ordered a whiskey and soda and lay on the bed and read the papers I had bought at the station. It was March, 1918, and the German offensive had started in France. I drank the whiskey and soda and read while Catherine unpacked and moved around the room.
"You know what I have to get, darling," she said.
"What?"
"Baby clothes. There aren't many people reach my time without baby things."
"You can buy them."
"I know. That's what I'll do to-morrow. I'll find out what is necessary."
"You ought to know. You were a nurse."
"But so few of the soldiers had babies in the hospitals."
"I did."
She hit me with the pillow and spilled the whiskey and soda.
"I'll order you another," she said. "I'm sorry I spilled it."
"There wasn't much left. Come on over to the bed."
"No. I have to try and make this room look like something."
"Like what?"
"Like our home."
"Hang out the Allied flags."
"Oh shut up."
"Say it again."
"Shut up."
"You say it so cautiously," I said. "As though you didn't want to offend any one."
"I don't."
"Then come over to the bed."
"All right." She came and sat on the bed. "I know I'm no fun for you, darling. I'm like a big flour-barrel."
"No you're not. You're beautiful and you're sweet."
"I'm just something very ungainly that you've married."
"No you're not. You're more beautiful all the time."
"But I will be thin again, darling."
"You're thin now."
"You've been drinking."
"Just whiskey and soda."
"There's another one coming," she said. "And then should we order dinner up here?"
"That will be good."
"Then we won't go out, will we? We'll just stay in to-night."
"And play," I said.
"I'll drink some wine," Catherine said. "It won't hurt me. Maybe we can get some of our old white capri."
"I know we can," I said. "They'll have Italian wines at a hotel this size."
The waiter knocked at the door. He brought the whiskey in a glass with ice and beside the glass on a tray a small bottle of soda.
"Thank you," I said. "put it down there. Will you please have dinner for two brought up here and two bottles of dry white capri in ice."
"Do you wish to commence your dinner with soup?"
"Do you want soup, Cat?"
"please."
"Bring soup for one."
"Thank you, sir." He went out and shut the door. I went back to the papers and the war in the papers and poured the soda slowly over the ice into the whiskey. I would have to tell them not to put ice in the whiskey. Let them bring the ice separately. That way you could tell how much whiskey there was and it would not suddenly be too thin from the soda. I would get a bottle of whiskey and have them bring ice and soda. That was the sensible way. Good whiskey was very pleasant. It was one of the pleasant parts of life.
"What are you thinking, darling?"
"About whiskey."
"What about whiskey?"
"About how nice it is."
Catherine made a face. "All right," she said.
We stayed at that hotel three weeks. It was not bad; the diningroom was usually empty and very often we ate in our room at night. We walked in the town and took the cogwheel railway down to Ouchy and walked beside the lake. The weather became quite warm and it was like spring. We wished we were back in the mountains but the spring weather lasted only a few days and then the cold rawness of the breaking-up of winter came again.
Catherine bought the things she needed for the baby, up in the town. I went to a gymnasium in the arcade to box for exercise. I usually went up there in the morning while Catherine stayed late in bed. On the days of false spring it was very nice, after boxing and taking a shower, to walk along the streets smelling the spring in the air and stop at a caf?to sit and watch the people and read the paper and drink a vermouth; then go down to the hotel and have lunch with Catherine. The professor at the boxing gymnasium wore mustaches and was very precise and jerky and went all to pieces if you started after him. But it was pleasant in the gym. There was good air and light and I worked quite hard, skipping rope, shadowboxing, doing abdominal exercises lying on the floor in a patch of sunlight that came through the open window, and occasionally scaring the professor when we boxed. I could not shadow-box in front of the narrow long mirror at first because it looked so strange to see a man with a beard boxing. But finally I just thought it was funny. I wanted to take off the beard as soon as I started boxing but Catherine did not want me to.
Sometimes Catherine and I went for rides out in the country in a carriage. It was nice to ride when the days were pleasant and we found two good places where we could ride out to eat. Catherine could not walk very far now and I loved to ride out along the country roads with her. When there was a good day we had a splendid time and we never had a bad time. We knew the baby was very close now and it gave us both a feeling as though something were hurrying us and we could not lose any time together.

第五部 第四十章
我们度着幸福的日子。我们度过了正月和二月，那年冬天天气非常好，我们生活得非常美满。偶尔有暖风吹来，短期间冰雪融解，空气中颇有春意，但是接着晴朗凛冽的寒天再度袭来，又是冬天季节了。到了三月，冬天的季节首次发生变化。夜里落起雨来。第二天上午还是下个不停，使雪化成了雪水，搞得山坡景色黯然无趣。湖上和河谷上都罩着云。高山上在下雨。凯瑟琳穿着笨重的大套鞋，我穿上戈丁根先生的长统雨靴，两人同撑一把雨伞，越过那些把路上冰块冲洗得干干净净的雪水和流水，往车站走去，找家小酒店歇歇脚，喝一杯午饭前的味美思。我们听得见店外边的雨声。
“依你看，我们要不要搬进城？”
“你觉得怎么样？”凯瑟琳问。
“倘若冬天过了，雨季开始，山上生活就未免单调乏味。小凯瑟琳还有多少时间出生？”
“还有一个月吧。也许更长一些。”
“我们不如搬下山住在蒙特勒。”
“为什么不索性上洛桑④去？医院就在那儿啊。”
“好的。不过我想那城市也许太大一点。”“我们在大城市仍旧可以过我们独自的生活，况且洛桑可能是个好地方。”
“我们什么时候去呢？”
“我无所谓。你哪天要去都行。倘若你不想离开这里，我也不离开。”
“我们看天气再说吧。”
雨连下了三天。车站下边的山坡上，现在雪都融化了。山道成为一股子泥泞的雪浆。外边太湿，雪水泛滥，不好出去。下雨的第三天早上，我们决定下山搬进城去。
“这没有关系，亨利先生，”戈丁根说。“你用不着先通知我。现在坏天气开始了，我早就在想，你们不会呆下去的。”
“因为夫人的关系，我们反正总得住在靠近医院的地方，”我说。“我明白，”他说。“将来孩子生了下来，你们会回来住住吧？”“好的，只要你们还有空房间的话。”
“春天天气好，你们再来住住，享受一下这里的春景。小家伙和保姆可以安置在那个现在关着的大房间里，先生和夫人可以照旧住在临湖的老房间里。”
“我来前会先写信的，”我说。我们收拾好了行李，赶午饭后那班车子进城。戈丁根夫妇上车站来送行，戈丁根先生还用一部雪橇，穿过雪水给我们运行李。他们俩站在车站边，在雨中向我们挥手告别。“他们俩很和气，”凯瑟琳说。
“他们待我们真好。”
我们从蒙特勒搭火车到洛桑。从车窗望望我们住过的地方，但是山都给云遮住了。火车在韦维停了一停又朝前开，一边是湖，另一边是淋湿的褐色田野、光秃秃的树林和湿淋淋的房屋。我们到了洛桑，拣了一家中型旅馆。我们的马车在街上走时，天还在下雨，车子一直赶进旅馆停马车处的入口。
④ 在美国亚利桑那州北部，是科罗拉多河所冲毁的河谷，气象宏伟。
门房衣襟上挂有一串铜钥匙，屋子里有电梯，地板上铺着地毯，还有白色盥洗盆配有一些亮晶晶的水龙头，铜床和舒舒服服的大卧房，这一切比起山居的简陋简直是富丽堂皇的了。房间的窗户朝着一个淋湿的花园，花园里有围墙，墙顶上装有铁栅。街道的坡度很陡，对街另有一家旅馆，也有同样的围墙和花园。我望着雨落在花园里的喷水池上。凯瑟琳开了所有的电灯，开始打开行李。我叫了一杯威士忌苏打，躺在床上看车站上买来的报纸。那时是一九一八年三月，德军在法国的总攻击已经开始了⑤。我边喝威士忌苏打边读报，凯瑟琳收拾着打开的行李，在房里走来走去。
“你知道我有些东西得准备起来了，亲爱的，”她说。
“什么？”
“婴孩的衣服。到我这时期还不预备的人是很少的。”
“去买好了。”
“我知道。我明天就去买。我得打听该备些什么。”
“你应当知道。你是个护士啊。”
“但是医院里可很少有士兵生小孩的。”
“我倒是要生。”
她扔枕头打我，把威士忌苏打打泼了。
“我再给你叫一杯，”她说。“打泼了，对不起。”
“本来快喝完了。上床来吧。”
“不。我得把这房间整理得像个样子。”
“像什么样子？”
“像我们的家。”
“索性连协约国①的旗子都挂起来吧。”“哦，闭嘴。”
“再讲一遍。”
“闭嘴。”
“你讲得那么小心，”我说，“好像怕得罪人似的。”
“我是不想得罪人。”
“那么上床来吧。”
“好吧。”她走过来坐在床上。“我知道我现在没味道了，亲爱的。我就像个大面粉桶。”
“不，你不是的。你又美又甜。”
“我只是你讨来的黄脸老婆。”
“不，你不是的。你越来越美丽了。”
“不过我还会瘦下去的，亲爱的。”
“你现在就是瘦的。”
“你喝醉了。”
“只喝了一杯威士忌苏打。”
“还有一杯快来啦，”她说。“然后我们就吩咐把饭送上来吃好吗？”
“好的。”
“那么我们就不出去了，行吗？今天夜里我们就呆在这里。”“还要玩，”我说。
⑤ 金门是旧金山湾西通太平洋的海峡，风景极佳，当时尚未架上大桥。
① 洛桑是瑞士的重要大城市，在蒙特勒西北，日内瓦湖北岸。它历史悠久，15 世纪就建有学院，于19 世纪末改为大学，有医学院。
“我要喝点酒，”凯瑟琳说。“这不会伤我的。也许我们可以要一点我们喝惯的卡普里白葡萄酒。”
“可以要到的，”我说。“这样规模的旅馆，一定备有意大利酒。”茶房敲敲门。他端着一只盘子进来，上面放着一杯放有冰块的威士忌，旁边还有一小瓶苏打水。
“谢谢，”我说。“放在那儿吧。请开两客饭上来，再拿两瓶不带甜味的卡普里白葡萄酒，用冰冰好。”
“要不要第一道先来个汤？”
“你要汤吗，凯特？”
“要的。”
“拿一客汤来。”
“谢谢，先生。”他出去把门带上了。我回头看报，看报上的战事消息，把苏打水从冰块上慢慢地倒进威士忌里。我本该吩咐他们别把冰块放在酒里。冰要另外放。只有这样你才能知道威士忌有多少，免得苏打水冲下去，忽然发觉冲得太淡了。我要叫他们拿整瓶的威士忌来，冰和苏打水另外放。这办法最妥当。好的威士忌喝起来非常痛快。是人生快事之一。“你在想什么，亲爱的？”
“想威士忌。”
“威士忌怎么啦？”
“想它多么好。”
凯瑟琳做了个鬼脸。“好吧，”她说。
我们在这家旅馆住了三星期。过得还算不错；餐厅里通常没什么人，我们夜饭多半在房间里吃。我们在城里溜达，乘齿轮车到欧契①，在湖边走走。天气相当暖和了，竟像春天一样。我们懊恼没在山上住下去，但是春季的气候只有几天，残冬的苦寒忽然又来到了。
凯瑟琳上城里买了孩子应用的东西。我跑到拱廊商场一家体育馆去练拳击。我通常是早上去的，那时凯瑟琳还躺在床上，很晚才起来。假春天那几天很不错，打拳后冲一个淋浴，在街上走时闻得到春天的气息，上家咖啡店歇歇脚，坐下看看人，读读报，喝一杯味美思；然后回旅馆和凯瑟琳一同吃中饭。拳击体育馆那位教练留着小髭，拳法谨严，动作急促，但如果你果真回他几拳，他可就整个垮下来了。不过那地方倒很愉快。空气光线都好；我相当下苦功，跳绳，对着假想对手练拳，躺在地板上，在从敞开的窗外射进的一摊阳光里作腹部运动；和教练对打的时候偶尔吓吓他。起初对着一面窄窄的长镜子练习打拳，我好不习惯，因为看着一个留胡子的人在打拳，太不像个样子。到了后来，只当它好玩就是了。我开始练拳的时候，本想剃掉胡子的，但是凯瑟琳不答应。
有时凯瑟琳和我乘马车到郊外去兜风。在天气晴朗的日子，驱车郊游很是有趣，我们还找到了两个可以吃饭的好地方。现在凯瑟琳不能走得很远了，我也乐于陪她赶车子在乡间道路上跑跑。碰到天气好，我们总是尽兴而归，从来不觉得沉闷。我们知道孩子快要出生，两人都觉得有件什么事在催促我们尽情作乐，不要浪费我们在一起的任何时间。
① 指德军于3 月21 日发动的总攻击，旨在分裂英法联军，个别击破，结果英军撤退25 英里。
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