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Chapter 41
New Voices in the Waves
All is going on as it was wont. The waves are hoarse with repetition of their mystery; the dust lies piled upon the shore; the sea-birds soar and hover; the winds and clouds go forth upon their trackless flight; the white arms beckon, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away.
With a tender melancholy pleasure, Florence finds herself again on the old ground so sadly trodden, yet so happily, and thinks of him in the quiet place, where he and she have many and many a time conversed together, with the water welling up about his couch. And now, as she sits pensive there, she hears in the wild low murmur of the sea, his little story told again, his very words repeated; and finds that all her life and hopes, and griefs, since - in the solitary house, and in the pageant it has changed to - have a portion in the burden of the marvellous song.
And gentle Mr Toots, who wanders at a distance, looking wistfully towards the figure that he dotes upon, and has followed there, but cannot in his delicacy disturb at such a time, likewise hears the requiem of little Dombey on the waters, rising and falling in the lulls of their eternal madrigal in praise of Florence. Yes! and he faintly understands, poor Mr Toots, that they are saying something of a time when he was sensible of being brighter and not addle-brained; and the tears rising in his eyes when he fears that he is dull and stupid now, and good for little but to be laughed at, diminish his satisfaction in their soothing reminder that he is relieved from present responsibility to the Chicken, by the absence of that game head of poultry in the country, training (at Toots's cost) for his great mill with the Larkey Boy.
But Mr Toots takes courage, when they whisper a kind thought to him; and by slow degrees and with many indecisive stoppages on the way, approaches Florence. Stammering and blushing, Mr Toots affects amazement when he comes near her, and says (having followed close on the carriage in which she travelled, every inch of the way from London, loving even to be choked by the dust of its wheels) that he never was so surprised in all his life.
'And you've brought Diogenes, too, Miss Dombey!' says Mr Toots, thrilled through and through by the touch of the small hand so pleasantly and frankly given him.
No doubt Diogenes is there, and no doubt Mr Toots has reason to observe him, for he comes straightway at Mr Toots's legs, and tumbles over himself in the desperation with which he makes at him, like a very dog of Montargis. But he is checked by his sweet mistress.
'Down, Di, down. Don't you remember who first made us friends, Di? For shame!'
Oh! Well may Di lay his loving cheek against her hand, and run off, and run back, and run round her, barking, and run headlong at anybody coming by, to show his devotion. Mr Toots would run headlong at anybody, too. A military gentleman goes past, and Mr Toots would like nothing better than to run at him, full tilt.
'Diogenes is quite in his native air, isn't he, Miss Dombey?' says Mr Toots.
Florence assents, with a grateful smile.
'Miss Dombey,' says Mr Toots, 'beg your pardon, but if you would like to walk to Blimber's, I - I'm going there.'
Florence puts her arm in that of Mr Toots without a word, and they walk away together, with Diogenes going on before. Mr Toots's legs shake under him; and though he is splendidly dressed, he feels misfits, and sees wrinkles, in the masterpieces of Burgess and Co., and wishes he had put on that brightest pair of boots.
Doctor Blimber's house, outside, has as scholastic and studious an air as ever; and up there is the window where she used to look for the pale face, and where the pale face brightened when it saw her, and the wasted little hand waved kisses as she passed. The door is opened by the same weak-eyed young man, whose imbecility of grin at sight of Mr Toots is feebleness of character personified. They are shown into the Doctor's study, where blind Homer and Minerva give them audience as of yore, to the sober ticking of the great clock in the hall; and where the globes stand still in their accustomed places, as if the world were stationary too, and nothing in it ever perished in obedience to the universal law, that, while it keeps it on the roll, calls everything to earth.
And here is Doctor Blimber, with his learned legs; and here is Mrs Blimber, with her sky-blue cap; and here Cornelia, with her sandy little row of curls, and her bright spectacles, still working like a sexton in the graves of languages. Here is the table upon which he sat forlorn and strange, the 'new boy' of the school; and hither comes the distant cooing of the old boys, at their old lives in the old room on the old principle!
'Toots,' says Doctor Blimber, 'I am very glad to see you, Toots.'
Mr Toots chuckles in reply.
'Also to see you, Toots, in such good company,' says Doctor Blimber.
Mr Toots, with a scarlet visage, explains that he has met Miss Dombey by accident, and that Miss Dombey wishing, like himself, to see the old place, they have come together.
'You will like,' says Doctor Blimber, 'to step among our young friends, Miss Dombey, no doubt. All fellow-students of yours, Toots, once. I think we have no new disciples in our little portico, my dear,' says Doctor Blimber to Cornelia, 'since Mr Toots left us.'
'Except Bitherstone,' returns Cornelia.
'Ay, truly,' says the Doctor. 'Bitherstone is new to Mr Toots.'
New to Florence, too, almost; for, in the schoolroom, Bitherstone - no longer Master Bitherstone of Mrs Pipchin's - shows in collars and a neckcloth, and wears a watch. But Bitherstone, born beneath some Bengal star of ill-omen, is extremely inky; and his Lexicon has got so dropsical from constant reference, that it won't shut, and yawns as if it really could not bear to be so bothered. So does Bitherstone its master, forced at Doctor Blimber's highest pressure; but in the yawn of Bitherstone there is malice and snarl, and he has been heard to say that he wishes he could catch 'old Blimber' in India. He'd precious soon find himself carried up the country by a few of his (Bitherstone's) Coolies, and handed over to the Thugs; he can tell him that.
Briggs is still grinding in the mill of knowledge; and Tozer, too; and Johnson, too; and all the rest; the older pupils being principally engaged in forgetting, with prodigious labour, everything they knew when they were younger. All are as polite and as pale as ever; and among them, Mr Feeder, B.A., with his bony hand and bristly head, is still hard at it; with his Herodotus stop on just at present, and his other barrels on a shelf behind him.
A mighty sensation is created, even among these grave young gentlemen, by a visit from the emancipated Toots; who is regarded with a kind of awe, as one who has passed the Rubicon, and is pledged never to come back, and concerning the cut of whose clothes, and fashion of whose jewellery, whispers go about, behind hands; the bilious Bitherstone, who is not of Mr Toots's time, affecting to despise the latter to the smaller boys, and saying he knows better, and that he should like to see him coming that sort of thing in Bengal, where his mother had got an emerald belonging to him that was taken out of the footstool of a Rajah. Come now!
Bewildering emotions are awakened also by the sight of Florence, with whom every young gentleman immediately falls in love, again; except, as aforesaid, the bilious Bitherstone, who declines to do so, out of contradiction. Black jealousies of Mr Toots arise, and Briggs is of opinion that he ain't so very old after all. But this disparaging insinuation is speedily made nought by Mr Toots saying aloud to Mr Feeder, B.A., 'How are you, Feeder?' and asking him to come and dine with him to-day at the Bedford; in right of which feats he might set up as Old Parr, if he chose, unquestioned.
There is much shaking of hands, and much bowing, and a great desire on the part of each young gentleman to take Toots down in Miss Dombey's good graces; and then, Mr Toots having bestowed a chuckle on his old desk, Florence and he withdraw with Mrs Blimber and Cornelia; and Doctor Blimber is heard to observe behind them as he comes out last, and shuts the door, 'Gentlemen, we will now resume our studies,' For that and little else is what the Doctor hears the sea say, or has heard it saying all his life.
Florence then steals away and goes upstairs to the old bedroom with Mrs Blimber and Cornelia; Mr Toots, who feels that neither he nor anybody else is wanted there, stands talking to the Doctor at the study-door, or rather hearing the Doctor talk to him, and wondering how he ever thought the study a great sanctuary, and the Doctor, with his round turned legs, like a clerical pianoforte, an awful man. Florence soon comes down and takes leave; Mr Toots takes leave; and Diogenes, who has been worrying the weak-eyed young man pitilessly all the time, shoots out at the door, and barks a glad defiance down the cliff; while Melia, and another of the Doctor's female domestics, looks out of an upper window, laughing 'at that there Toots,' and saying of Miss Dombey, 'But really though, now - ain't she like her brother, only prettier?'
Mr Toots, who saw when Florence came down that there were tears upon her face, is desperately anxious and uneasy, and at first fears that he did wrong in proposing the visit. But he is soon relieved by her saying she is very glad to have been there again, and by her talking quite cheerfully about it all, as they walked on by the sea. What with the voices there, and her sweet voice, when they come near Mr Dombey's house, and Mr Toots must leave her, he is so enslaved that he has not a scrap of free-will left; when she gives him her hand at parting, he cannot let it go.
'Miss Dombey, I beg your pardon,' says Mr Toots, in a sad fluster, 'but if you would allow me to - to -
The smiling and unconscious look of Florence brings him to a dead stop.
'If you would allow me to - if you would not consider it a liberty, Miss Dombey, if I was to - without any encouragement at all, if I was to hope, you know,' says Mr Toots.
Florence looks at him inquiringly.
'Miss Dombey,' says Mr Toots, who feels that he is in for it now, 'I really am in that state of adoration of you that I don't know what to do with myself. I am the most deplorable wretch. If it wasn't at the corner of the Square at present, I should go down on my knees, and beg and entreat of you, without any encouragement at all, just to let me hope that I may - may think it possible that you -
'Oh, if you please, don't!' cries Florence, for the moment quite alarmed and distressed. 'Oh, pray don't, Mr Toots. Stop, if you please. Don't say any more. As a kindness and a favour to me, don't.'
Mr Toots is dreadfully abashed, and his mouth opens.
'You have been so good to me,' says Florence, 'I am so grateful to you, I have such reason to like you for being a kind friend to me, and I do like you so much;' and here the ingenuous face smiles upon him with the pleasantest look of honesty in the world; 'that I am sure you are only going to say good-bye!'
'Certainly, Miss Dombey,' says Mr Toots, 'I - I - that's exactly what I mean. It's of no consequence.'
'Good-bye!' cries Florence.
'Good-bye, Miss Dombey!' stammers Mr Toots. 'I hope you won't think anything about it. It's - it's of no consequence, thank you. It's not of the least consequence in the world.'
Poor Mr Toots goes home to his hotel in a state of desperation, locks himself into his bedroom, flings himself upon his bed, and lies there for a long time; as if it were of the greatest consequence, nevertheless. But Mr Feeder, B.A., is coming to dinner, which happens well for Mr Toots, or there is no knowing when he might get up again. Mr Toots is obliged to get up to receive him, and to give him hospitable entertainment.
And the generous influence of that social virtue, hospitality (to make no mention of wine and good cheer), opens Mr Toots's heart, and warms him to conversation. He does not tell Mr Feeder, B.A., what passed at the corner of the Square; but when Mr Feeder asks him 'When it is to come off?' Mr Toots replies, 'that there are certain subjects' - which brings Mr Feeder down a peg or two immediately. Mr Toots adds, that he don't know what right Blimber had to notice his being in Miss Dombey's company, and that if he thought he meant impudence by it, he'd have him out, Doctor or no Doctor; but he supposes its only his ignorance. Mr Feeder says he has no doubt of it.
Mr Feeder, however, as an intimate friend, is not excluded from the subject. Mr Toots merely requires that it should be mentioned mysteriously, and with feeling. After a few glasses of wine, he gives Miss Dombey's health, observing, 'Feeder, you have no idea of the sentiments with which I propose that toast.' Mr Feeder replies, 'Oh, yes, I have, my dear Toots; and greatly they redound to your honour, old boy.' Mr Feeder is then agitated by friendship, and shakes hands; and says, if ever Toots wants a brother, he knows where to find him, either by post or parcel. Mr Feeder like-wise says, that if he may advise, he would recommend Mr Toots to learn the guitar, or, at least the flute; for women like music, when you are paying your addresses to 'em, and he has found the advantage of it himself.
This brings Mr Feeder, B.A., to the confession that he has his eye upon Cornelia Blimber. He informs Mr Toots that he don't object to spectacles, and that if the Doctor were to do the handsome thing and give up the business, why, there they are - provided for. He says it's his opinion that when a man has made a handsome sum by his business, he is bound to give it up; and that Cornelia would be an assistance in it which any man might be proud of. Mr Toots replies by launching wildly out into Miss Dombey's praises, and by insinuations that sometimes he thinks he should like to blow his brains out. Mr Feeder strongly urges that it would be a rash attempt, and shows him, as a reconcilement to existence, Cornelia's portrait, spectacles and all.
Thus these quiet spirits pass the evening; and when it has yielded place to night, Mr Toots walks home with Mr Feeder, and parts with him at Doctor Blimber's door. But Mr Feeder only goes up the steps, and when Mr Toots is gone, comes down again, to stroll upon the beach alone, and think about his prospects. Mr Feeder plainly hears the waves informing him, as he loiters along, that Doctor Blimber will give up the business; and he feels a soft romantic pleasure in looking at the outside of the house, and thinking that the Doctor will first paint it, and put it into thorough repair.
Mr Toots is likewise roaming up and down, outside the casket that contains his jewel; and in a deplorable condition of mind, and not unsuspected by the police, gazes at a window where he sees a light, and which he has no doubt is Florence's. But it is not, for that is Mrs Skewton's room; and while Florence, sleeping in another chamber, dreams lovingly, in the midst of the old scenes, and their old associations live again, the figure which in grim reality is substituted for the patient boy's on the same theatre, once more to connect it - but how differently! - with decay and death, is stretched there, wakeful and complaining. Ugly and haggard it lies upon its bed of unrest; and by it, in the terror of her unimpassioned loveliness - for it has terror in the sufferer's failing eyes - sits Edith. What do the waves say, in the stillness of the night, to them?
'Edith, what is that stone arm raised to strike me? Don't you see it?'
There is nothing, mother, but your fancy.'
'But my fancy! Everything is my fancy. Look! Is it possible that you don't see it?'
'Indeed, mother, there is nothing. Should I sit unmoved, if there were any such thing there?'
'Unmoved?' looking wildly at her - 'it's gone now - and why are you so unmoved? That is not my fancy, Edith. It turns me cold to see you sitting at my side.'
'I am sorry, mother.'
'Sorry! You seem always sorry. But it is not for me!'
With that, she cries; and tossing her restless head from side to side upon her pillow, runs on about neglect, and the mother she has been, and the mother the good old creature was, whom they met, and the cold return the daughters of such mothers make. In the midst of her incoherence, she stops, looks at her daughter, cries out that her wits are going, and hides her face upon the bed.
Edith, in compassion, bends over her and speaks to her. The sick old woman clutches her round the neck, and says, with a look of horror,
'Edith! we are going home soon; going back. You mean that I shall go home again?'
'Yes, mother, yes.'
'And what he said - what's-his-name, I never could remember names - Major - that dreadful word, when we came away - it's not true? Edith!' with a shriek and a stare, 'it's not that that is the matter with me.'
Night after night, the lights burn in the window, and the figure lies upon the bed, and Edith sits beside it, and the restless waves are calling to them both the whole night long. Night after night, the waves are hoarse with repetition of their mystery; the dust lies piled upon the shore; the sea-birds soar and hover; the winds and clouds are on their trackless flight; the white arms beckon, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away.
And still the sick old woman looks into the corner, where the stone arm - part of a figure of some tomb, she says - is raised to strike her. At last it falls; and then a dumb old woman lies upon the the bed, and she is crooked and shrunk up, and half of her is dead.
Such is the figure, painted and patched for the sun to mock, that is drawn slowly through the crowd from day to day; looking, as it goes, for the good old creature who was such a mother, and making mouths as it peers among the crowd in vain. Such is the figure that is often wheeled down to the margin of the sea, and stationed there; but on which no wind can blow freshness, and for which the murmur of the ocean has no soothing word. She lies and listens to it by the hour; but its speech is dark and gloomy to her, and a dread is on her face, and when her eyes wander over the expanse, they see but a broad stretch of desolation between earth and heaven.
Florence she seldom sees, and when she does, is angry with and mows at. Edith is beside her always, and keeps Florence away; and Florence, in her bed at night, trembles at the thought of death in such a shape, and often wakes and listens, thinking it has come. No one attends on her but Edith. It is better that few eyes should see her; and her daughter watches alone by the bedside.
A shadow even on that shadowed face, a sharpening even of the sharpened features, and a thickening of the veil before the eyes into a pall that shuts out the dim world, is come. Her wandering hands upon the coverlet join feebly palm to palm, and move towards her daughter; and a voice not like hers, not like any voice that speaks our mortal language - says, 'For I nursed you!'
Edith, without a tear, kneels down to bring her voice closer to the sinking head, and answers:
'Mother, can you hear me?'
Staring wide, she tries to nod in answer.
'Can you recollect the night before I married?'
The head is motionless, but it expresses somehow that she does.
'I told you then that I forgave your part in it, and prayed God to forgive my own. I told you that time past was at an end between us. I say so now, again. Kiss me, mother.'
Edith touches the white lips, and for a moment all is still. A moment afterwards, her mother, with her girlish laugh, and the skeleton of the Cleopatra manner, rises in her bed.
Draw the rose-coloured curtains. There is something else upon its flight besides the wind and clouds. Draw the rose-coloured curtains close!
Intelligence of the event is sent to Mr Dombey in town, who waits upon Cousin Feenix (not yet able to make up his mind for Baden-Baden), who has just received it too. A good-natured creature like Cousin Feenix is the very man for a marriage or a funeral, and his position in the family renders it right that he should be consulted.
'Dombey,' said Cousin Feenix, 'upon my soul, I am very much shocked to see you on such a melancholy occasion. My poor aunt! She was a devilish lively woman.'
Mr Dombey replies, 'Very much so.'
'And made up,' says Cousin Feenix, 'really young, you know, considering. I am sure, on the day of your marriage, I thought she was good for another twenty years. In point of fact, I said so to a man at Brooks's - little Billy Joper - you know him, no doubt - man with a glass in his eye?'
Mr Dombey bows a negative. 'In reference to the obsequies,' he hints, 'whether there is any suggestion - '
'Well, upon my life,' says Cousin Feenix, stroking his chin, which he has just enough of hand below his wristbands to do; 'I really don't know. There's a Mausoleum down at my place, in the park, but I'm afraid it's in bad repair, and, in point of fact, in a devil of a state. But for being a little out at elbows, I should have had it put to rights; but I believe the people come and make pic-nic parties there inside the iron railings.'
Mr Dombey is clear that this won't do.
'There's an uncommon good church in the village,' says Cousin Feenix, thoughtfully; 'pure specimen of the Anglo-Norman style, and admirably well sketched too by Lady Jane Finchbury - woman with tight stays - but they've spoilt it with whitewash, I understand, and it's a long journey.
'Perhaps Brighton itself,' Mr Dombey suggests.
'Upon my honour, Dombey, I don't think we could do better,' says Cousin Feenix. 'It's on the spot, you see, and a very cheerful place.'
'And when,' hints Mr Dombey, 'would it be convenient?'
'I shall make a point,' says Cousin Feenix, 'of pledging myself for any day you think best. I shall have great pleasure (melancholy pleasure, of course) in following my poor aunt to the confines of the - in point of fact, to the grave,' says Cousin Feenix, failing in the other turn of speech.
'Would Monday do for leaving town?' says Mr Dombey.
'Monday would suit me to perfection,' replies Cousin Feenix. Therefore Mr Dombey arranges to take Cousin Feenix down on that day, and presently takes his leave, attended to the stairs by Cousin Feenix, who says, at parting, 'I'm really excessively sorry, Dombey, that you should have so much trouble about it;' to which Mr Dombey answers, 'Not at all.'
At the appointed time, Cousin Feenix and Mr Dombey meet, and go down to Brighton, and representing, in their two selves, all the other mourners for the deceased lady's loss, attend her remains to their place of rest. Cousin Feenix, sitting in the mourning-coach, recognises innumerable acquaintances on the road, but takes no other notice of them, in decorum, than checking them off aloud, as they go by, for Mr Dombey's information, as 'Tom Johnson. Man with cork leg, from White's. What, are you here, Tommy? Foley on a blood mare. The Smalder girls' - and so forth. At the ceremony Cousin Feenix is depressed, observing, that these are the occasions to make a man think, in point of fact, that he is getting shaky; and his eyes are really moistened, when it is over. But he soon recovers; and so do the rest of Mrs Skewton's relatives and friends, of whom the Major continually tells the club that she never did wrap up enough; while the young lady with the back, who has so much trouble with her eyelids, says, with a little scream, that she must have been enormously old, and that she died of all kinds of horrors, and you mustn't mention it.
So Edith's mother lies unmentioned of her dear friends, who are deaf to the waves that are hoarse with repetition of their mystery, and blind to the dust that is piled upon the shore, and to the white arms that are beckoning, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away. But all goes on, as it was wont, upon the margin of the unknown sea; and Edith standing there alone, and listening to its waves, has dank weed cast up at her feet, to strew her path in life withal.
一切都像往常一样进行着。海浪嘶哑地重复着它那神秘的语言；沙子堆积在岸上；海鸟上上下下地飞翔；风和云沿着它们不留踪迹的线路行进；白色的胳膊在月光下向远方看不见的国家打着招呼①。
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①请参见第十二章中保罗与图茨的谈话。保罗说，他看见月光下小船的船帆像银色的胳膊，似乎招呼他到它那里去。
弗洛伦斯怀着亲切的、令人伤感的喜悦，又来到了这块她过去曾经那么悲哀地、又那么幸福地走过的老地方，并在这安静的地方想念着他；他和她曾经好多次、好多次在这里一起交谈，海浪则在他的卧床旁涌上来。现在，当她沉思地坐在这里的时候，她在大海的低沉的哗哗声中又听到了他的小故事正在被重新叙述着，他的每一句话正在被重复地讲着；她觉得，从那时以来，在那座孤独的房屋和后来变成富丽堂皇的公馆中，她所有的生活、希望和悲哀，都反映在这首奇妙的歌曲中。
性格温和的图茨先生在稍远一些的地方漫步走着，同时愁闷地向他所热爱的人儿望着；他跟随弗洛伦斯来到这里，但却由于慎重的考虑，不能在这样的时候去打扰她。他听到海浪升高、降落，永恒地唱着赞颂弗洛伦斯的小曲，但在它们有时暂停的时候，他也听到它们唱着小保罗的安魂曲。是的，可怜的图茨先生，他也模糊地听明白海浪正在叙述那段他认为他比较聪明、头脑不糊涂的时光；当他担心他现在已变得迟钝、愚笨，除了供人取笑外，毫无其他用处的时候，他眼中涌出了泪水；海浪安慰地提醒他：由于那位全国家禽中英勇善斗的首领不在这里，而正在与拉基•博伊进行伟大的竞赛而从事训练（由图茨负担费用），因此图茨先生现在已摆脱了对斗鸡所负的责任；这一点使图茨先生感到高兴，可是涌出的泪水却使他的高兴减弱了。
然而当海浪向他低声诉说着充满柔情的思想的时候，图茨先生又把勇气鼓起来了；他慢慢地、慢慢地向弗洛伦斯身边走过去，在途中犹豫不决地停下很多次。当他走到她的身旁时，图茨先生结结巴巴，脸孔涨得通红，假装出惊异的样子，说，他这一辈子从来没有像现在这样感到惊奇过；其实，从伦敦开始，他就每一英寸都在紧紧跟随着她乘坐的马车；甚至车轮扬起的灰尘使他喘不过气来，他还感到十分高兴。
“您把戴奥吉尼斯也带来了，董贝小姐！”图茨先生说道；当那小手愉快地、坦诚地向他伸过来、接触到他时，他感到全身一阵阵震颤。
毫无疑问，戴奥吉尼斯是在这里；毫无疑问，图茨先生有理由注意到他，因为他向着图茨先生的腿直冲过来，像蒙塔吉斯的狗①一样，在向他奋不顾身地扑过去的时候，在地上翻滚着，但是他被他的女主人制止了。
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①蒙塔吉斯的狗（averydogofMontargis）：根据法国传说，十四世纪时，一位名叫奥伯里•德•蒙塔吉斯的骑士和他的狗在森林中漫游时，被理查德•德•马克打死。除了这条狗外，其他任何人也没有见到过这位凶手。从那时起，这条狗一见到这个凶手，就愤怒地吠叫；由于顽强追逐的结果，罪犯终于被破获。根据国王的命令，狗与马克进行决斗，结果凶手死去。
“伏下，戴，伏下！难道你忘记了，最初是谁使我们成为朋友的，戴？真丢脸！”
啊，戴真幸福啊，他可以把他的腮帮子亲热地贴着她的手，然后跑开，又跑回来，然后围绕着她跑，一边吠叫着，并向任何路过的人冲过去，显示他的忠诚。图茨先生也真想能头向前地向任何路过的人冲过去。一位军人走过去了，图茨先生真想拼命地向他追扑过去。
“戴奥吉尼斯现在呼吸到他家乡的空气了，是不是，董贝小姐？”图茨先生说道。
弗洛伦斯微笑着，表示同意。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“请原谅，如果您愿意散步到布林伯学校去的话，那么我——我现在到那里去。”
弗洛伦斯没有说话，挽着图茨先生的手，两人一起上了路，戴奥吉尼斯在前面跑着。图茨先生两只腿颤抖着；虽然他穿得漂漂亮亮的，可是他仍觉得服装不合适，并在伯吉斯公司精心缝制的产品中看到了皱痕；他很后悔不曾穿上他那双最亮的靴子。
布林伯博士的房屋外面仍像过去一样保持着学校的、研究学问的气派，上面还是那个窗子：她过去经常向那里寻找那张苍白的脸孔，那张苍白的脸孔看到她的时候就在那里露出喜色；当她走过的时候，那只消瘦的小手就在那里向他挥送着飞吻。门还是由那位弱视的年轻人开的；他看到图茨先生的时候，咧着嘴傻乎乎地笑着，这是他智力低下的表现。他们被领到博士的书房中；盲诗人荷马和米涅瓦像过去一样，在前厅大钟沉着冷静的滴嗒声中，在那里接见了他们；地球仪仍竖立在先前的位置上，仿佛整个世界也是静止的；世界上没有任何东西遵从普遍规律的作用而消亡；本来按照这一规律，当地球转动的时候，一切东西都是要化为尘土的。
布林伯博士跨着有学问的两腿，在书房里；布林伯夫人戴着天蓝色的帽子，也在这里；还有科妮莉亚也在这里，她梳着沙色的短小的卷发，戴着明亮的眼镜，仍像主管墓地的教堂司事一样，在语言的坟墓中工作着。那张他曾经让这个学校的“新孩子”可怜而陌生地坐着的桌子也仍旧摆在这里；那些原先的孩子们，遵循与过去同样的方针，在与过去同样的房间里，过着与过去同样的生活，他们轻微的正从远处传进书房里来。
“图茨，”布林伯博士说，“我很高兴看到您，图茨。”
图茨先生吃吃地笑了一下，作为回答。
“而且有这样好的伴侣，图茨：”布林伯博士说道。
图茨先生脸孔涨得通红，解释说，他是在无意间遇见了董贝小姐；董贝小姐像他本人一样，也想来看看老地方，所以他们就一起来了。
“当然，您一定会高兴在我们这些年轻的朋友中间走走的，董贝小姐，”布林伯博士说道，“他们都是您过去的同学，图茨。亲爱的，”布林伯博士转向科妮莉亚说道，“我想，从图茨先生离开我们以后，在我们这个小小的门廊里，我们没有再招收新的学生了吧？”
“只招收了比瑟斯通一个人。”科妮莉亚回答道。
“对了，一点不错，”博士说道，“对图茨先生来说，比瑟斯通是个新人。”
对弗洛伦斯来说，比瑟斯通几乎也是个新人，因为比瑟斯通不再是皮普钦太太寄宿学校里的比瑟斯通少爷了；他现在在教室里炫示着他的硬领和领饰，还戴了一块手表。但是比瑟斯通是在某个不吉祥的孟加拉星辰照耀下出生的，全身沾满了墨迹；他的词典由于经常翻查，浮肿得不想合上，而且困倦地打着呵欠，仿佛确实容忍不了这样经常的烦扰了。它的主人比瑟斯通在布林伯博士的高压下也同样打着呵欠；不过在比瑟斯通的呵欠中有着怨恨和怒气；人们听他说过，他希望能在印度把“老布林伯”逮住；老布林伯将很快就会发现自己被比瑟斯通的几个小工拖到这个国家的边远地区，交给谋杀教团①的团员们；他可以这样告诉他。
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①谋杀教团：印度旧时，因崇拜破坏女神，以杀人抢劫为业的宗教组织。
布里格斯依旧在知识磨坊中推着磨；托泽也是这样；约翰逊也是这样；所有其他的人也都是这样；年纪大一些的学生们所从事的，主要是通过勤奋的努力，把他们在年纪较小的时候所学到的一切东西给忘记掉。所有的人都跟过去一样彬彬有礼，脸色跟过去一样苍白；在他们中间，文学士菲德先生，手瘦得皮包骨头，头上密生着硬发，依旧像过去一样用功，这时候他刚刚正在教赫罗多德①的著作，由他这个人为手摇风琴演奏的其他曲谱放在他后面的一个搁架上。
解放了的图茨前来访问，这件事甚至在那些态度沉着的年轻先生们中间也引起了巨大的哄动。他们敬仰地看着他，就像他是渡过卢比孔河，发誓永不回来的一位英雄一样②。大家在背地里嘁嘁喳喳地议论着他的服装剪裁的式样和珠宝饰物的时新款式；可是爱发脾气的比瑟斯通（他不是图茨先生时期的人）却在较小的孩子面前装出看不起图茨先生的样子，说，他见识得更多，他真愿意在孟加拉见到图茨先生；他母亲在孟加拉有一块纯绿宝石，是属于他的，那是从印度王侯宝座脚底中取出来的；哎呀，那才了不起呢！看到了弗洛伦斯，这些年轻人在感情上也引起了极大的波动，每一位年轻的先生都立刻爱上了她，又是只有上面提到的爱发脾气的比瑟斯通一人例外；他出于反抗心，拒绝这样做。大家对图茨先生产生了恶意的妒嫉。布里格斯认为，图茨先生毕竟年纪还不算很老；可是这个贬损性的暗讽立即被图茨先生挡架住，使它不起作用；他大声对文学士菲德先生说，“您好，菲德！”，并邀请他今天在贝德福德旅馆去跟他一起吃晚饭；由于他成功地采取了这巧妙的一招，如果他愿意的话，那么他很可以自称为久经世事磨练的老手，没有人会提出异议的。
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①赫罗多德（Herodutus）（公元前484？——425年）：公元前五世纪希腊历史学家，有历史之父之称。
②卢比孔（Rubicon）河，是意大利中部的一条河流。古罗马将军凯撒（JuliusCae－sar，公元前100——40年）如要渡过此河，必和掌握罗马政府大权的庞培（PompeytheGreat，公元前106—48年，罗马将军）一战，因此渡过卢比孔河是指采取断然手段，下了重大决心的行动。凯撒就是在说着“骰子已经掷下了”之后，前去渡过这条河的。
好多的握手，好多的鞠躬，每位年轻的先生都极想消除弗洛伦斯小姐对图茨先生的宠爱；接着，图茨先生对他旧日的课桌吃吃地笑了一声，作为问候；然后弗洛伦斯与他，并和布林伯夫人与科妮莉亚一起离开了；当布林伯博士最后走出来，并把门关上的时候，他们听到他说道，“各位先生，现在我们将重新开始我们的学习。”因为博士听到大海所说的，或者他这一辈子听到它所说的，就是这一句话，没有别的话了。
然后，弗洛伦斯悄悄地走开，跟布林伯夫人和科妮莉亚一起上楼到过去那间寝室里；图茨先生感到不需要他或其他人到那里去，就站在书房门口跟博士谈话，或者更确切地说，听博士对他说话；他感到奇怪，他过去怎么曾把这个书房看成是一座伟大的神殿，并把博士看成是一位令人敬畏的人；他那圆圆的、向里弯曲的腿就像是教堂里的钢琴一般。弗洛伦斯不久从楼上下来，告别了；图茨先生告别了；戴奥吉尼斯这段时间一直在无情地想咬那位弱视的年轻人，这时冲向门口，高兴地、挑衅地吠叫着，并沿着断崖飞跑下去；而这时候梅莉亚和博士的另一位女仆则从楼上的一个窗口往外望，对着“那里那位图茨”大笑着，同时谈到董贝小姐，说，“不过说真的，她不是很像她弟弟吗，只是更漂亮一些！”
当弗洛伦斯下楼来的时候，图茨先生看到她脸上挂着眼泪，感到非常焦虑不安，起初他担心他建议进行这次访问是不是错了。可是他不久就放下心，因为当他们沿着海滨向前走去的时候，她说她很高兴又到这里来，而且很高兴地谈着这次访问。当他们在海浪的和她那可爱的的伴随下，走近董贝先生的房屋，图茨先生必须离开她的时候，他已经完全成了她的奴隶，一星半点自由的意志也没剩下了；当她告别时向他伸出手来时，他怎么也放不开它。
“董贝小姐，请原谅，”图茨先生悲伤而慌乱地说道，“不过如果您肯允许我——”
弗洛伦斯的微笑的、天真无邪的神色使他立刻完全停住，讲不下去了。
“如果您肯允许我——如果您不认为这是放肆的话，董贝小姐，如果我能——在没有得到任何鼓励下，如果我能希望，您知道，”图茨先生说道。
弗洛伦斯诧异地看着他。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生觉得他现在已经欲罢不能，只有鼓着勇气说下去了，“说实话，我爱慕您到了这样的地步，我真不知道没有您我自己一个人该怎么办。我是个最可怜最不幸的人。如果我们现在不是站在广场的角落里的话，那么我就一定跪下去，哀求您，恳请您，在没有得到您的任何鼓励下，仅仅给我一个希望：我可以——可以认为这是可能的，就是您——”
“啊，请您别这样！”弗洛伦斯感到相当惊慌和苦恼，喊道，“啊，请您别这样，图茨先生！请别说了。什么也别说了。
就把这作为您对我的好意和恩惠吧，请别说了。”
图茨先生张着嘴巴，羞愧得不得了。
“您一直来对我很好，”弗洛伦斯说道，“我十分感谢您，我有充分的理由喜欢您做我的一个好朋友，我的确是很喜欢您；”这时那张天真的脸向他浮现出世界上最愉快、最真诚的微笑，“我相信，您只不过是想对我说一声再见罢了。”
“当然，董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“我——我——这正是我想要说的。这无关紧要。”
“再见！”弗洛伦斯喊道。
“再见，董贝小姐！”图茨先生结结巴巴地说道，“我希望您别去想这件事。它是——它是无关紧要的，谢谢您。它是世界上最最无关紧要的事情。”
可怜的图茨先生怀着绝望的心情回到旅馆里，把自己锁在卧室中，猛倒在床上，长久地躺在那里，仿佛这毕竟不是一件无关紧要，而是最最重要的事情。可是文学士菲德先生来吃晚饭了，这对图茨先生倒是一件好事，要不然，真不知道他什么时候才会起床呢。图茨先生不得不起来会见他，并热情地款待他。
热情好客这个社会美德（不用提酒和丰盛的菜肴了）打开了图茨先生的心境，给了他温暖，使他开始交谈起来。他没有把广场角落里发生的事情告诉文学士菲德先生，但是当菲德先生问他“这事什么时候完成”时，图茨先生回答道，“有些话题——”，这就立即使菲德先生不能再追问下去。图茨先生还说，他不知道布林伯有什么权利注意到他是在董贝小姐陪伴下同去的；如果他认为布林伯这样说是有意冒失无礼的话，那么他就会老实不客气地指责他，不管他是不是博士；不过他想那只不过是布林伯不明真情罢了；菲德先生说，他对这点毫不怀疑。
不过，菲德先生是一位知心朋友，可以无所不谈，这个话题也不除外。图茨先生只要求神秘地、带着感情地谈。喝了几杯酒之后，他建议为董贝小姐的健康干杯，说道，“菲德，您根本想不到我是怀着一种什么感情建议为她祝酒的。”菲德先生回答道，“不，不，我想得到，我亲爱的图茨，这种感情大大地提高了您的荣誉呵，我的老同学。”这时候，菲德先生被友谊所激动，跟图茨先生握着手，说，如果图茨什么时候需要一个兄弟的话，那么他知道到什么地方去找他的。菲德先生还说，如果他可以劝告的话，那么他将建议图茨先生学习弹奏吉他，至少学习吹笛子，因为当您向女人献殷勤的时候，她们是喜爱音乐的，他本人就领会过音乐有这样的优点。
谈到这点，文学士菲德先生承认，他已看中了科妮莉亚•布林伯。他告诉图茨先生，他并不反对眼镜，如果博士肯慷慨解囊，并辞去他的职务的话，那么他们的生活就有保障了；在他看来，一个人由于工作挣得了一笔可观的财产之后，他就应当辞去他的职务；而科妮莉亚是一位任何人都会引以自豪的助手。图茨先生的回答是对董贝小姐满口不绝地称赞，还暗示说，他有时真想对准自己的脑袋开熗。菲德先生有力地强调说，这将是轻率鲁莽的尝试，为了使图茨先生安于生活，他还让他看看戴着眼镜和有其他特征的科妮莉亚的肖像。
这两位性情文静的人就这样度过了这个晚上；当夜接着来临的时候，图茨先生陪送菲德先生回家，并在布林伯博士的门口跟他分别。可是菲德先生只是走上台阶；当图茨先生离开以后，他又走下来，一个人在海滨散步，并默想着他的前程。菲德先生在溜达的时候，清楚地听到海浪在告诉他，布林伯博士将辞去他的工作；当他望着那房屋的外表，想着博士将首先重新油漆这房屋，并彻底修理它的时候，他感到了一种温柔的、浪漫的乐趣。
图茨先生也在收藏着他的宝石的盒子外面踱来踱去；在悲惨的心情下，他注视着一个发出亮光的窗子——警察对这并不是没有引起怀疑的——，他毫无疑问，那是弗洛伦斯的窗子。但实际上却并不是，因为那是斯丘顿夫人的房间；当弗洛伦斯睡在另一个房间里，在旧日的环境中，做着甜密的梦，旧日的一些联想又在心头复活的时候，一位老女人在冷酷的现实中，在这同一个剧场上，代替那个有病的孩子，又一次（然而是多么不同地！）恢复了与疾病和死亡的联系；她在这里伸开四肢，醒着，抱怨着。她面貌丑陋，形容枯槁，躺在她的得不到安息的床上；在她身旁，坐着伊迪丝，她那毫无热情的美貌令人恐怖——因为在病人的眼睛中，它具有令人恐怖的东西。在这寂静无声的夜间，海浪在对她们说些什么话呢？
“伊迪丝，这只举起来要打我的胳膊是谁的？你看见了吗？”
“那里什么也没有，妈妈，那只不过是你的幻觉罢了。”
“只不过是我的幻觉罢了！什么都是我的幻觉。看！难道你竟看不见吗？”
“真的，妈妈，那里什么也没有。如果那里当真有这样的东西的话，那么我还能这么木然不动地坐着吗？”
“木然不动？”她惊骇地看着她，“现在它消失了——不过你为什么能这么木然不动呢？那不是我的幻觉，伊迪丝。我看到你坐在我身旁，身上就发冷。”
“我感到遗憾，妈妈。”
“遗憾！你似乎老是在感到遗憾。可是并不是为了我！”
她一边说着一边就哭了起来，并把得不到休息的头在枕头上翻过来转过去，同时唠唠叨叨地说没有人理睬她，又说她曾经是个多么好的母亲；她们遇见的那位好老婆子也是一位多么好的母亲；这些母亲的女儿们又是怎样冷酷地报答她们。在这样语无伦次地说着的时候，她突然中途停下来，看着她的女儿，高声喊道，她的神志糊涂了，并把脸埋藏在床上。
伊迪丝怜悯地弯下身子，对她说话。有病的老太婆抓住她的脖子，露出恐怖的神情，说道：
“伊迪丝！我们很快就要回家了；很快就要回去了。你相信我还会回家吗？”
“会的，妈妈，会的。”
“他说了些什么话——他叫什么名字，我总是记不住名字——少校——当我们动身到这里来的时候，他说了那个可怕的字眼——难道不是吗，伊迪丝！”她尖声喊叫了一声，并瞪了一下眼睛，“难道那与我有什么关系吗？”
一夜又一夜，灯光在窗子里亮着；老太婆躺在床上，伊迪丝坐在她身旁；不平静的海浪整夜在向她们两人呼喊着。一夜又一夜，海浪嘶哑地重复着它那神秘的语言，沙子堆积在岸上；海鸟上上下下地飞翔；风和云沿着它们不留踪迹的线路行进；白色的胳膊在月光下向远方看不见的国家打着招呼。
有病的老太婆仍旧望着角落里；在那个角落里有一只石胳膊——她说，这是什么坟墓上的一个雕像的胳膊——正举起来要打她。最后这个石胳膊放下了，于是默默无声的老太婆躺在床上，身子蜷缩着，皮肤发皱，半个人已经死去了。
就是这位老太婆，涂脂抹粉，贴着美人斑，听凭太阳去嘲笑，一天又一天被慢慢地通过人群拉出去；这时她用眼睛寻找着那位曾经是多么好的母亲的好老婆子；当她在人群中找不到她的时候，她就撇着嘴。就是这位老太婆经常坐在车子里被一直送到海边，在那里停下来；可是不论什么风吹她，也不能使她振作起精神来；海洋发出的哗哗声中，没有一句安慰她的话。她躺着，听着它，但是它的语言对她是凶险的、不祥的，在她的脸上呈现出恐惧；当她的眼睛往浩瀚的汪洋望过去的时候，她所看到的只不过是天地之间茫茫一片荒凉而已。
她很少看到弗洛伦斯；当她看到的时候，她就对她生气，并皱着眉头。伊迪丝经常在她身旁，不让弗洛伦斯跟她们在一起；而弗洛伦斯夜间在床上一想到这样的死亡就浑身颤抖；她还时常醒来，听着，心想它已来临了。除了伊迪丝外；没有别的人照料老太婆。很少人看到她，这倒是好的。只有她的女儿一个人在床边看守着她。
在已经笼罩着阴影的脸上又加上一层阴影，在已经瘦削的脸形上又多了一重瘦削，她眼前的帷幕已转变成一块遮挡暗淡世界的厚厚的棺衣。在被单上摸来摸去的两只手软弱无力地合到一块，并向女儿那里移动；一个不像她的、也不像任何凡人所说的说道，“因为是我把你养大的！”
伊迪丝没有流泪，跪下去，使她的更挨近那个深埋到枕头里的头，回答道：
“妈妈，你能听到我说话吗？”
她把眼睛睁得大大的，想点头回答。
“你能记得我结婚前的那一夜吗？”
那个头一动不动，但从她脸上的表情中可以看出，她记得。
“那时候我对你说，我原谅你参与我的婚事，并祈求上帝宽恕我自己的参与。那时候我对你说，我们之间过去的事情已告一结束。我现在又重新这样说。吻我吧，妈妈。”
伊迪丝接触到那苍白的嘴唇，在片刻间一切都寂静无声。片刻之后，她的母亲带着她那少女般的笑声和克利奥佩特拉的骨头架子，在床上稍稍欠起身来。
把玫瑰色的帐子拉合上吧。除了风和云之外，还有别的什么东西在飞逝。把玫瑰色的帐子紧紧地拉合上吧！
这件事的消息已派人送到城里董贝先生那里；董贝先生拜访了菲尼克斯表哥（他还下不了决心去巴登—巴登）；菲尼克斯表哥也刚接到消息。像菲尼克斯表哥这样性格温厚的人是参加婚礼或葬礼的最合适的人物；考虑到他在家中的地位，应当跟他商量商量，这是很恰当的。
“董贝，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“说实话，在这样悲伤的时刻看到您，我非常激动。我可怜的妈妈！她过去是一位非常活泼的妇女。”
董贝先生回答道，“的确是这样。”
“而且，您知道，她外貌修整得实在年轻；”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“说真的，在您结婚的那一天，我曾以为她还能再活二十岁呢。事实上，我当时就跟布鲁克斯商行的一个人这样说过——他叫小比利•乔珀，有一只眼睛戴单眼镜的，毫无疑问，您认识他吧？”
董贝先生给了否定的回答。“关于葬礼，您是不是有什么建议——”
“啊，我的天！”菲尼克斯表哥说道，一边敲敲下巴，他从袖口中露出的手刚好能这样做，“我实在不知道！在我的土地上的公园里有一座陵庙，不过我担心，它需要好好修理一下，事实上，它现在的情况是很糟糕的。要不是手头不宽裕的话，我应当把它修整得好好的；不过我相信人们还常到那里去，在铁栏杆里举行野餐。”
董贝先生明白，那里不适宜。
“在那个村子里有一个少见的好教堂，”菲尼克斯表哥沉思地说道，“这是英格兰——诺尔曼风格的纯正的样本，简•芬奇伯里夫人——她是穿紧身褡的——还给它描绘过一幅精采的图画，不过据我了解，他们粉刷时把教堂糟蹋了，而且路途遥远。”
“也许就在布赖顿举行，怎么样？”董贝先生建议道。
“以我的荣誉发誓，董贝，我认为没有比这更好的地方了，”菲尼克斯表哥说道。“就在当地，而且那是个使人赏心悦目的地方。”
“定在什么日子合适呢？”董贝先生探问道。
“任何日子，只要是您认为最合适的，我都保证同意。”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“跟随我的姑妈到达那个——边境，事实上，也就是到达坟墓，我将感到极大的愉快（当然，是忧郁的愉快），”菲尼克斯表哥说道，其他的话他说不出来了。
“您能在星期一离开城里吗？”董贝先生问道。
“星期一对我完全合适，”菲尼克斯表哥回答道。因此董贝先生就约定在那天来把他送去，然后就立刻告辞了；菲尼克斯表哥把他送到楼梯口，分别时说道，“我实在非常抱歉，董贝，这件事给您添了这么多麻烦”；董贝先生回答道，“一点也不！”
在约定的那一天，菲尼克斯表哥和董贝先生会了面，然后前去布赖顿；他们两人代表对亡故的夫人表示哀悼的所有其他的人们，护送她的遗体到安息的地点。菲尼克斯表哥坐在灵柩车中，沿途认出无数熟人，可是他遵守礼节，没有和他们谈话，仅仅当从他们身旁经过的时候，他大声喊出他们的名字，让董贝先生知道；如：“汤姆•约翰逊。他有一条软木做的腿，是怀特公司给做的。怎么，汤米，您在这里呀？弗利，他骑一匹纯种的母马。这是斯莫德尔的姑娘们”，等等。在举行葬礼时，菲尼克斯表哥情绪低落；他说，在这种场合，一个人不由得会想到，他的身体事实上已逐渐衰弱了；当仪式结束时，他的眼睛确实是泪汪汪的。但是他很快就恢复了精神；斯丘顿夫人的其他亲友们也跟他一样；其中少校在俱乐部里反复地讲，她从来不把衣服穿严实；那位光裸着后背、打扮得十分年轻、费很大劲才能撑开眼皮的夫人则轻轻地头叫了一声，说，她一定非常衰老了；她是得了各种最可怕的病死去的；您应该别提起它了。
就这样，伊迪丝的母亲躺在那里，不再被她亲爱的朋友们提起，他们听不见海浪嘶哑地重复着它那神秘的语言，看不见沙子堆积在岸上，看不见白色的胳膊在月光下向远方看不见的国家打着招呼。可是在这未知的海洋的边缘，一切都像往常一样进行着；伊迪丝独自站在那里，听着海浪的；潮湿的海藻漂打到她的脚边，而且也撒布在她的生活道路上。
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