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德伯家的苔丝|Tess of the D‘Urbervilles
第57章|Chapter 56
属类：
双语小说
【分类】世界名著
-[作者: 托马斯-哈代]
阅读：[31852]
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与此同时，安琪尔·克莱尔沿着他来时走的路往回走着，进了他住的旅馆，一双眼睛茫然地瞪着，坐一下来吃早饭。他毫无知觉地又吃又喝，然后突然吩咐结账；付完了账，就提起来的时候随身带的唯一行李——一只装洗梳用具的小旅行袋，出了旅馆。
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正当他要离开的时候，一封电报送到了他的手上——那是他的母亲给他打来的，只有寥寥数语，说的是他们收到了他的地址，很高兴，同时又告诉他，他的哥哥卡斯伯特向梅茜·羌特求婚，梅茜小姐已经答应了。
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克莱尔把电报揉成一团，向火车站走去；到了火车站，才知道还要等一个多小时火车才会开走。他坐下来等候，他等了一刻钟的时间，就觉得再也等不下去了。他的心已破碎，感觉麻木，再也没有什么要急着去办的事了；但是，他在这个城市里有了这样一番经历和感受，就希望离开这儿；于是他转身向外面的一个车站走去，打算在那儿上火车。
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他走的是一条宽阔的大路，前面不远，大路就进入一个山谷，从远处看去，大路从山谷的这一头到另一头穿谷而过，他把这段山谷中的道路走了一大半，然后走上了西边的山坡，在他停下来喘一口气的时候，无意间向后看了一眼。为什么向后看去，他自己也说不清楚，不过似乎有一种力量非逼着他向后看不可。他只见身后的那条大路像一根带子，越远越细，但是当他向后看的时候，在那条空旷的白色大路上出现了一个移动着的小点。
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那个小点是一个奔跑的人影。克莱尔模模糊糊地觉得那个人是来追赶他的，就停下来等着。
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跑下山坡的人影是一个女人，不过他完全没有想到他的妻子会跟着他追来。他现在看见的她已经完全换了装束，所以当她走得很近了的时候，他也没有认出她来。直到她走到了他的跟前，他才敢相信她就是苔丝。
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“我看见你——离开火车站的——刚好我走到那儿之前——我就一路追来了！”
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她的脸色惨白，上气不接下气，身上的每一块肌肉都在颤抖，他什么也没有问她，只是抓住她的一只手，把它夹在自己的胳膊里，带着她往前走。为了避免遇见任何有可能遇见的行人，他就离开大路，走进枞树林中的一条小路。当他们走进了枞树林的深处，听见枞树枝叶的呜咽声时，他才停了下来，带着疑问的神情看着她。
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“安琪尔，”她说，仿佛在等着问她。“你知道为什么我一路追了来吗？告诉你吧，我已经把他杀了！”她说的时候，脸上露出一点儿可怜的惨笑。
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“什么？”他想到她奇怪的神情，以为她神经错乱了，所以问她。
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“我真的把他杀了——我不知道我是怎么把他杀了的。”她继续说。“安琪尔，杀他是为了你，也是为了我。早在我用手套打他的嘴的时候，我就想过，因为他在我年幼无知的时候设陷阱害我，又通过我间接害了你，恐怕总有一天我也许要杀了他。他来这儿拆散了我们，毁了我们，现在他再也不能害我们了。安琪尔，我从来就没有像爱你一样爱过他。这你是知道的，是不是？你一直不肯回来找我，我是没有办法才跟了他的。你为什么要离开我呢——当时我那样爱你，你为什么要离开我呢？我想不出来你为什么要离开我。但是我不怪你；只是，安琪尔，既然我已经把他杀了，你能不能宽恕我对不住你的罪过？我一路跑来的时候，我就想过，你一定会因为我把他杀了而宽恕我的。杀他的想法就像一道亮光，让我感到只有那样你才能回到我的身边来。我再也不能忍受失去你了——我完全无法忍受你不爱我，这你是不知道的！现在你跟我说你爱我吧，亲爱的亲爱的丈夫；既然我已经把他杀了，跟我说你爱我吧！”
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“我真的爱你，苔丝——啊，我真的爱你——所有的爱都回来了！”他热烈地把她拥抱在怀里说。“可是你说你把他杀了这句话是什么意思呢？”
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“我的意思是说我真的把他杀了，”她嘟哝着说，好像在梦里一样。
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“什么，是杀在他的身上吗？他死了吗？”
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“不错。他听见我在那儿为你哭着，就尖刻地嘲弄我；用难听的话骂你；后来，我就把他杀了。我心里忍受不了啦。他以前就因为你而挖苦我。接着我就穿好衣服出来找你了。”
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克莱尔开始慢慢地相信，她至少稍微地动过杀机，想做她刚才说的事；他一面对她的动机感到恐惧，一面又惊讶她对他自己的爱情的力量，惊讶这种奇特的爱情，为了爱情，她竟然完全不顾道德。由于还没有意识到她的行为的严重性，她似乎终于感到了满足；她伏在他的肩上，高兴地哭着，他看着她，不知道在德贝维尔家族的血统中究竟有什么秘密特点，才导致苔丝这种精神错乱的举动——如果说她只是一种错乱举动的话。他突然在心里想到，之所以会产生关于马车和凶杀的家族传说，大概就是因为知道德贝维尔家里出过这种事情。同时他也按照他混乱的和激动的思想推理，认为苔丝只是在她提到的过度悲伤下一时失去了心理平衡，才陷入这种深渊的。
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这件事如果是真的，那就太令人可怕了；如果只是一种暂时的幻觉，那也太令人悲伤了。不过无论如何，现在站在他面前的就是曾经被他遗弃了的妻子，这个感情热烈的女人紧紧地靠着他，一点儿也不怀疑他就是她的保护者。他看出来，在她的心里，在可能的范围内，她认为他只能是她的保护者。柔情终于彻底战胜了克莱尔。他用他苍白的嘴唇不停地吻她，握住她的手，说——
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“我再也不会离开你了！我最亲爱的人，无论是你杀了人还是没有杀人，我都要尽我的一切力量保护你！”
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于是他们在树林里往前走，苔丝不时地把头转过去，看一看安琪尔，虽然他疲惫不堪，一脸憔悴，但是她在他的形貌上一点儿也看不出毛病来。在她的眼里，他无论在形体还是在心灵上，还是像过去一样完美。他仍然是他的安提诺俄斯①，甚至是她的阿波罗②；他那张满是病容的脸，今天在她爱情的眼光看来，还是和她第一次见到他的时候一样，像黎明一样美丽，因为在这个世界上，只有这个人的脸曾经纯洁地爱过她，也只有这个人相信她是一个纯洁的人。
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①安提诺俄斯（Antinous），古代罗马美男子，为罗马皇帝哈德林（Hadrian）所爱。
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②阿波罗（Appollo），希腊神话中的太阳神，以美和勇敢著名。
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他有一种直觉，现在不能像他想的那样去镇外的第一个车站了；这儿的枞树林绵延数英里，于是他们仍然往枞树林的深处钻去。他们互相搂着对方的腰，踩着枞树干枯的针状叶子漫步走去；他们意识到他们终于又在一起了，这儿没有任何人来打扰他们，便把那具死尸抛在脑后，沉浸在如痴如醉，似真似幻的气氛中。他们就这样向前走了好几英里，直到苔丝惊醒了，看看四周，胆怯地问——
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“我们这是在向什么地方走呢？”
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“我不知道，最亲爱的。怎么啦？”
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“我也不知道。”
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“哦，我们往前再走几英里吧，到了天黑的时候，我们再找地方住吧——也许，我们可以在一个僻静的草屋里找到一个住处。你能走吗，苔丝？”
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“啊，能走！只要你搂着我，我就能永远永远走下去！”
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总的来说，事情也只能如此了。因此他们就加快了步伐，避开大路，沿着偏僻的小路大致上往北走。整整一天，他们的行动都是不切实际的，没有明确的企图；他们两个人似乎谁也没有考虑到逃跑的有用办法，如化装或者长期躲藏。他们就像两个小孩子，所有的想法都是临时的，不是防范的。
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在中午的时候，他们走近了一个路边的客栈，苔丝想和他一起进去吃点儿东西，但是安琪尔劝她还是留在这儿，呆在这块差不多还是林地和树林的灌木丛里，等着他回来。她穿的衣服是当时流行的样式，就是她带的那把伞柄是象牙的阳伞，在他们信步来到的这个偏僻地点，也是没有人看见过的东西。这些时兴的物品，一定会引起酒店里坐在长椅上的人的注意。不久安琪尔回来了，带回来的食物够六个人吃，还有两瓶酒——这些东西，即使有什么意外发生，也够他们支持一两天的了。
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他们在一些枯树枝上坐下来，一起分享食物。在一两点钟之间，他们把没有吃完的东西包好，又继续朝前走。
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“我感到无论走多远我都走得动！”他说。
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“我想我们也许要往去内地的路上走，在内地我们可以躲一些时候，除了靠近沿海的一些地方，他们很可能不会到内地去追捕我们，”克莱尔说。“躲上一段时间，等他们把我们忘了，我们才能从某个港口出去。”
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她什么也没有回答，只是紧紧地握住他的手，于是他们继续往内地走去。虽然那时候是英国的五月季节，但是天气却清明晴朗，下午的天气更加暖和。后来他们又沿着那条小路走了许多英里，一直走进了叫做新林的树林的深处；到了傍晚，他们从一条篱路的拐弯处绕过去，看见一条小溪，小溪上有一座小桥，小桥后面有一块大木板，上面用白色的油漆写着几个大字：“理想房屋，家具齐全，待租入住”；下面写着详细说明，以及同某几个伦敦代理机构联系的地址。他们走进栅栏门，只见这座房屋是一座古建筑，是用砖建造的，式样整齐，面积很大。
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“我知道这座房屋，”克莱尔说，“这是布兰夏斯特庄园。你看，门关着，走道上都长满了草。”
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“有几个窗户开着哪！”苔丝说。
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“我想那是让房间透气的。”
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“所有的房间都空着，可是我们连一个住处也没有！”
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“你一定累了，我的苔丝！”他说。“我们马上就不走了。”他吻了吻她那悲伤的嘴，又带着她往前走。
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他也同样渐渐累了，因为他们已经走了十二英里到十五英里的路程，所以他们必须考虑怎样休息的问题了。他们远远望着那些孤独的小屋和小客栈，很想找一个客栈住下来。但是他们心里害怕，只好躲开了。走到后来，他们迈不动脚步了，只好停下来不走了。
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“我们能不能在树下睡觉呢？”她问。
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克莱尔认为还没有到在外面睡觉的节气。
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“我一直在想我们路过的那座空房屋，”他说。“让我们再回到那座房屋那儿去吧。”
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他们又迈开了往回走的脚步，走了半个小时，才走到他们先前路过的栅栏门外。他先让苔丝在外面等着，自己进去看看有没有人。
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苔丝在栅栏门里的灌木丛中坐下来，克莱尔悄悄地向房屋走去。克莱尔进去了相当长的时间，回来的时候都把苔丝急坏了，其实她不是为自己着急，而是为他着急。他找到了一个小孩子，从他那儿打听出，看管房子的是一个老太太，她住在附近那个村子里，只是在天气好的时候才到这儿来打开窗户，要等太阳落山了她才来把窗户关上。“现在，我们可以从楼下的一个窗户里进去，在里面睡觉了。”他说。
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苔丝由他保护着，慢慢地向正门走去；百叶窗关上了，它们像看不见的眼珠，防止有人偷看。他们又向前走了几步，来到门口；门旁有一个窗户开着。克莱尔翻身爬了进去，接着又把身后的苔丝拉了进去。
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除了大厅，所有的房间都一团漆黑，他们就上了楼。楼上所有的百叶窗也关得紧紧的，让空气流通的工作敷衍了事，至少那天如此，因为只有前面大厅的一个窗户和楼上后面的一个窗户开着。克莱尔拉开一个大房间的门栓，摸索着走进去，把百叶窗户打开了两三寸。一束炫目的夕阳照进房间，照出了笨重的老式家具，红色的绵缎窗帘，还有一张有四根柱子的大床；那张大床的床头雕刻着奔跑的人物，显然是赛跑中的阿塔兰塔①。
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①阿塔兰塔（Atalanta）希腊神话中著名的阿耳卡狄亚女猎手。凡向她求婚者都要同她赛跑，凡是赛跑输了的她都要用矛刺死。弥拉尼翁同她赛跑时得到女神相助，边跑边扔金苹果。阿塔兰塔因捡金苹果而落在后面，最后做了弥拉尼翁的妻子。
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“终于可以休息了！”克莱尔把他的旅行小袋和食物包放下说。
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他们两个人极其安静地呆在房间里，等着照看房子的人来关窗子：为了小心起见，他们又把百叶窗照原样关好，让他们完全隐藏在黑暗中，防止照看房子的老太太因为偶然的原因把他们房间的门打开了。在六点到七点之间，老太太来了，不过没有到他们躲藏的那一边去。他们听见她把窗子关上，拴好，然后走了。接着克莱尔又悄悄把窗户打开一点，透进来一些亮光，一起把晚饭吃了，苍茫的夜色渐渐袭来，他们没有蜡烛驱散黑暗，也就只好呆在黑暗中了。
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Mrs Brooks, the lady who was the householder at The Herons, and owner of all the handsome furniture, was not a person of an unusually curious turn of mind. She was too deeply materialized, poor woman, by her long and enforced bondage to that arithmetical demon Profit-and-Loss, to retain much curiosity for its own sake, and apart from possible lodgers’ pockets. Nevertheless, the visit of Angel Clare to her well-paying tenants, Mr and Mrs d’Urberville, as she deemed them, was sufficiently exceptional in point of time and manner to reinvigorate the feminine proclivity which had been stifled down as useless save in its bearings on the letting trade.
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Tess had spoken to her husband from the doorway, without entering the dining-room, and Mrs Brooks, who stood within the partly-closed door of her own sitting-room at the back of the passage, could hear fragments of the conversation - if conversation it could be called - between those two wretched souls. She heard Tess re-ascend the stairs to the first floor, and the departure of Clare, and the closing of the front door behind him. Then the door of the room above was shut, and Mrs Brooks knew that Tess had re-entered her apartment. As the young lady was not fully dressed Mrs Brooks knew that she would not emerge again for some time.
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She accordingly ascended the stairs softly, and stood at the door of the front room - a drawing-room, connected with the room immediately behind it (which was a bedroom) by folding-doors in the common manner. This first floor, containing Mrs Brooks’s best apartments, had been taken by the week by the d’Urbervilles. The back room was now in silence; but from the drawing-room there came sounds.
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All that she could at first distinguish of them was one syllable, continually repeated in a low note of moaning, as if it came from a soul bound to some Ixionian wheel--
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`O - O - O!’
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Then a silence, then a heavy sigh, and again--
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`O - O - O!’
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The landlady looked through the keyhole. Only a small space of the room inside was visible, but within that space came a corner of the breakfast table, which was already spread for the meal, and also a chair beside. Over the seat of the chair Tess’s face was bowed, her posture being a kneeling one in front of it; her hands were clasped over her head, the skirts of her dressing-gown and the embroidery of her night-gown flowed upon the floor behind her, and her stockingless feet, from which the slippers had fallen, protruded upon the carpet. It was from her lips that came the murmur of unspeakable despair.
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Then a man’s voice from the adjoining bedroom `What’s the matter?’
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She did not answer, but went on, in a tone which was a soliloquy rather than an exclamation, and a dirge rather than a soliloquy. Mrs Brooks could only catch a portion:
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`And then my dear, dear husband came home to me... and I did not know it!... And you had used your cruel persuasion upon me... you did not stop using it - no - you did not stop! My little sisters and brothers and my mother’s needs - they were the things you moved me by... and you said my husband would never come back - never; and you taunted me, and said what a simpleton I was to expect him!... And at last I believed you and gave way!... And then he came back! Now he is gone. Gone a second time, and I have lost him now for ever... and he will not love me the littlest bit ever any more - only hate me!... O yes, I have lost him now - again because of - you!’ In writhing, with her head on the chair, she turned her face towards the door, and Mrs Brooks could see the pain upon it; and that her lips were bleeding from the clench of her teeth upon them, and that the long lashes of her closed eyes stuck in wet tags to her cheeks. She continued: `And he is dying - he looks as if he is dying!... And my sin will kill him and not kill me!... O, you have torn my life all to pieces... made me be what I prayed you in pity not to make me be again!... My own true husband will never, never - O God - I can’t bear this! - I cannot!’
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There were more and sharper words from the man; then a sudden rustle; she had sprung to her feet. Mrs Brooks, thinking that the speaker was coming to rush out of the door, hastily retreated down the stairs.
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She need not have done so, however, for the door of the sitting-room was not opened. But Mrs Brooks felt it unsafe to watch on the landing again, and entered her own parlour below.
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She could hear nothing through the floor, although she listened intently, and thereupon went to the kitchen to finish her interrupted breakfast. Coming up presently to the front room on the ground floor she took up some sewing, waiting for her lodgers to ring that she might take away the breakfast, which she meant to do herself, to discover what was the matter if possible. Overhead, as she sat, she could now hear the floorboards slightly creak, as if some one were walking about, and presently the movement was explained by the rustle of garments against the banisters, the opening and the closing of the front door, and the form of Tess passing to the gate on her way into the street. She was fully dressed now in the walking costume of a well-to-do young lady in which she had arrived, with the sole addition that over her hat and black feathers a veil was drawn.
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Mrs Brooks had not been able to catch any word of farewell, temporary or otherwise, between her tenants at the door above. They might have quarrelled, or Mr d’Urberville might still be asleep, for he was not an early riser.
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She went into the back room which was more especially her own apartment, and continued her sewing there. The lady lodger did not return, nor did the gentleman ring his bell. Mrs Brooks pondered on the delay, and on what probable relation the visitor who had called so early bore to the couple upstairs. In reflecting she leant back in her chair.
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As she did so her eyes glanced casually over the ceiling till they were arrested by a spot in the middle of its white surface which she had never noticed there before. It was about the size of a wafer when she first observed it, but it speedily grew as large as the palm of her hand, and then she could perceive that it was red. The oblong white ceiling, with this scarlet blot in the midst, had the appearance of a gigantic ace of hearts.
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Mrs Brooks had strange qualms of misgiving. She got upon the table, and touched the spot in the ceiling with her fingers. It was damp, and she fancied that it was a blood stain.
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Descending from the table, she left the parlour, and went upstairs, intending to enter the room overhead, which was the bedchamber at the back of the drawing-room. But, nerveless woman as she had now become, she could not bring herself to attempt the handle. She listened. The dead silence within was broken only by a regular beat.
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Drip, drip, drip.
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Mrs Brooks hastened downstairs, opened the front door, and ran into the street. A man she knew, one of the workmen employed at an adjoining villa, was passing by, and she begged him to come in and go upstairs with her; she feared something had happened to one of her lodgers. The workman assented, and followed her to the landing.
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She opened the door of the drawing-room, and stood back for him to pass in, entering herself behind him. The room was empty; the breakfast - a substantial repast of coffee, eggs, and a cold ham - lay spread upon the table untouched, as when she had taken it up, excepting that the carving knife was missing. She asked the man to go through the folding-doors into the adjoining room.
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He opened the doors, entered a step or two, and came back almost instantly with a rigid face. `My good God, the gentleman in bed is dead! I think he has been hurt with a knife - a lot of blood has run down upon the floor!’
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The alarm was soon given, and the house which had lately been so quiet resounded with the tramp of many footsteps, a surgeon among the rest. The wound was small, but the point of the blade had touched the heart of the victim, who lay on his back, pale, fixed, dead, as if he had scarcely moved after the infliction of the blow. In a quarter of an hour the news that a gentleman who was a temporary visitor to the town had been stabbed in his bed, spread through every street and villa of the popular watering-place.
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