狄更斯双语小说:《董贝父子》第32章Part 2

'Here's a smart lad for you!' cried the Captain eyeing him sternly, 'as don't know his own native alphabet! Go away a bit and come back again alternate - d'ye understand that?'
'Yes, Captain,' said Rob.
'Very good my lad, then,' said the Captain, relenting. 'Do it!'
That he might do it the better, Captain Cuttle sometimes condescended, of an evening after the shop was shut, to rehearse this scene: retiring into the parlour for the purpose, as into the lodgings of a supposititious MacStinger, and carefully observing the behaviour of his ally, from the hole of espial he had cut in the wall. Rob the Grinder discharged himself of his duty with so much exactness and judgment, when thus put to the proof, that the Captain presented him, at divers times, with seven sixpences, in token of satisfaction; and gradually felt stealing over his spirit the resignation of a man who had made provision for the worst, and taken every reasonable precaution against an unrelenting fate.
Nevertheless, the Captain did not tempt ill-fortune, by being a whit more venturesome than before. Though he considered it a point of good breeding in himself, as a general friend of the family, to attend Mr Dombey's wedding (of which he had heard from Mr Perch), and to show that gentleman a pleasant and approving countenance from the gallery, he had repaired to the church in a hackney cabriolet with both windows up; and might have scrupled even to make that venture, in his dread of Mrs MacStinger, but that the lady's attendance on the ministry of the Reverend Melchisedech rendered it peculiarly unlikely that she would be found in communion with the Establishment.
The Captain got safe home again, and fell into the ordinary routine of his new life, without encountering any more direct alarm from the enemy, than was suggested to him by the daily bonnets in the street. But other subjects began to lay heavy on the Captain's mind. Walter's ship was still unheard of. No news came of old Sol Gills. Florence did not even know of the old man's disappearance, and Captain Cuttle had not the heart to tell her. Indeed the Captain, as his own Hopes of the generous, handsome, gallant-hearted youth, whom he had loved, according to his rough manner, from a child, began to fade, and faded more and more from day to day, shrunk with instinctive pain from the thought of exchanging a word with Florence. If he had had good news to carry to her, the honest Captain would have braved the newly decorated house and splendid furniture - though these, connected with the lady he had seen at church, were awful to him - and made his way into her presence. With a dark horizon gathering around their common hopes, however, that darkened every hour, the Captain almost felt as if he were a new misfortune and affliction to her; and was scarcely less afraid of a visit from Florence, than from Mrs MacStinger herself.
It was a chill dark autumn evening, and Captain Cuttle had ordered a fire to be kindled in the little back parlour, now more than ever like the cabin of a ship. The rain fell fast, and the wind blew hard; and straying out on the house-top by that stormy bedroom of his old friend, to take an observation of the weather, the Captain's heart died within him, when he saw how wild and desolate it was. Not that he associated the weather of that time with poor Walter's destiny, or doubted that if Providence had doomed him to be lost and shipwrecked, it was over, long ago; but that beneath an outward influence, quite distinct from the subject-matter of his thoughts, the Captain's spirits sank, and his hopes turned pale, as those of wiser men had often done before him, and will often do again.
Captain Cuttle, addressing his face to the sharp wind and slanting rain, looked up at the heavy scud that was flying fast over the wilderness of house-tops, and looked for something cheery there in vain. The prospect near at hand was no better. In sundry tea-chests and other rough boxes at his feet, the pigeons of Rob the Grinder were cooing like so many dismal breezes getting up. A crazy weathercock of a midshipman, with a telescope at his eye, once visible from the street, but long bricked out, creaked and complained upon his rusty pivot as the shrill blast spun him round and round, and sported with him cruelly. Upon the Captain's coarse blue vest the cold raindrops started like steel beads; and he could hardly maintain himself aslant against the stiff Nor'-Wester that came pressing against him, importunate to topple him over the parapet, and throw him on the pavement below. If there were any Hope alive that evening, the Captain thought, as he held his hat on, it certainly kept house, and wasn't out of doors; so the Captain, shaking his head in a despondent manner, went in to look for it.
Captain Cuttle descended slowly to the little back parlour, and, seated in his accustomed chair, looked for it in the fire; but it was not there, though the fire was bright. He took out his tobacco-box and pipe, and composing himself to smoke, looked for it in the red glow from the bowl, and in the wreaths of vapour that curled upward from his lips; but there was not so much as an atom of the rust of Hope's anchor in either. He tried a glass of grog; but melancholy truth was at the bottom of that well, and he couldn't finish it. He made a turn or two in the shop, and looked for Hope among the instruments; but they obstinately worked out reckonings for the missing ship, in spite of any opposition he could offer, that ended at the bottom of the lone sea.
The wind still rushing, and the rain still pattering, against the closed shutters, the Captain brought to before the wooden Midshipman upon the counter, and thought, as he dried the little officer's uniform with his sleeve, how many years the Midshipman had seen, during which few changes - hardly any - had transpired among his ship's company; how the changes had come all together, one day, as it might be; and of what a sweeping kind they web Here was the little society of the back parlour broken up, and scattered far and wide. Here was no audience for Lovely Peg, even if there had been anybody to sing it, which there was not; for the Captain was as morally certain that nobody but he could execute that ballad, he was that he had not the spirit, under existing circumstances, to attempt it. There was no bright face of 'Wal'r' In the house; - here the Captain transferred his sleeve for a moment from the Midshipman's uniform to his own cheek; - the familiar wig and buttons of Sol Gills were a vision of the past; Richard Whittington was knocked on the head; and every plan and project in connexion with the Midshipman, lay drifting, without mast or rudder, on the waste of waters.
As the Captain, with a dejected face, stood revolving these thoughts, and polishing the Midshipman, partly in the tenderness of old acquaintance, and partly in the absence of his mind, a knocking at the shop-door communicated a frightful start to the frame of Rob the Grinder, seated on the counter, whose large eyes had been intently fixed on the Captain's face, and who had been debating within himself, for the five hundredth time, whether the Captain could have done a murder, that he had such an evil conscience, and was always running away.
'What's that?' said Captain Cuttle, softly.
'Somebody's knuckles, Captain,' answered Rob the Grinder.

“瞧你这机灵的孩子！”船长严厉地注视着他，喊道，”连本国话也听不懂！离开一会儿，然后又回来，这么轮流着。--现在懂了吗？”
“懂了，船长，”罗布说道。
“很好，我的孩子，”船长态度温和下来，心平气和地说道，”那就这么办吧！”
为了使罗布做得更好，船长有时在晚上关上店门之后，放下架子，跟他演习起来；为了这个目的，他退藏到客厅里，那是假想中的麦克斯廷杰的住所；然后从他在墙上挖出的侦察洞中仔细地观察他的盟友的举动。磨工罗布十分准确和熟练地完成了他的任务；经过这样考验之后，船长表示满意，好几次送给他六便士的硬币，总共送了七枚，并暗暗地在心中逐渐产生了一种安宁的感觉，这是一个对最坏的情况作了准备，并为对付残酷命运采取了各种适当防备措施的人才能有的。
可是船长一点也不比过去鲁莽随便，去冒碰上厄运的风险。他从珀奇先生那里听到董贝先生将要结婚的消息之后，虽然认为，作为他们家里的朋友，他去参加董贝先生的婚礼，并从楼座向这位先生显露他高兴和赞成的脸孔，是他应该表示的礼貌，但是他乘坐出租单马篷车前去教堂的时候，两边的窗子都是关上的。本来他由于害怕麦克斯廷杰太太，甚至是不是要冒这次风险都是迟疑不决的，但因为那位太太要去参加梅尔奇斯代克大师主持的礼拜仪式，因此在他要去的那个教堂里极不可能也看到她。
船长又平安地回到家里，过着他的新的常规生活。除了每天街道上来往的女帽外，敌人没有在其他方面引起他惊慌。但是其他的问题开始沉重地压在船长的心头。沃尔特的船仍然杳无音讯。老所尔?吉尔斯也毫无消息。弗洛伦斯甚至还不知道老人已经失踪，卡特尔船长也没有心情去告诉她。那位豁达大度、外貌英俊、有侠义气概的青年，从他是个小孩子的时候起，船长就以他粗鲁的方式喜爱他；由于船长觉得他得救的希望开始一天天地愈来愈微弱，所以他一想起要跟弗洛伦斯交谈一两句话，都确实会由于本能地感到痛苦而畏缩起来。如果他有好消息带给她，诚实的船长将会大胆地走进那座装饰一新的公馆，穿过那些光彩夺目的家具，找到道路，走到她的面前去（虽然这些豪华的场面和他在教堂里看到的那位夫人使他感到心寒胆怯）。可是当乌云聚集在他们共同希望的上空，随着一小时一小时过去，愈聚愈浓的时候，船长几乎觉得仿佛他本人对她来说就是一个新的不幸与痛苦似的，所以他害怕弗洛伦斯前来访问，几乎就跟害怕麦克斯廷杰太太前来访问一样。
这是一个寒冷的、黑暗的秋天晚上，卡特尔船长嘱咐罗布在小后客厅里生火，这个小后客厅现在比任何时候都更像是一个船舱了。雨急速地下着，风猛烈地刮着。船长穿过他老朋友的敞开着被暴风吹刮着的卧室，登上屋顶去观察天气；当他看到天气是那么险恶、凄凉的时候，他心灰意冷了，这并不是说他把这时的天气跟可怜的沃尔特的命运联系起来，也不是说他还怀疑：如果老天爷注定他要遭到船沉人亡的命运的话，那么这也是好久以前就已过去的事了；而是说，在跟他思考的问题完全不同的外界的影响下，船长的情绪低沉了，他的希望暗淡了，就像那些比他更聪明的人也曾时常有过，今后也会时常再现的情形一样。
卡特尔船长的脸迎着凛冽的寒风和斜打过来的雨，仰望着从荒凉的屋顶上迅速飞过去的阴沉的雨云，徒劳无益地企图从中寻找出一点可以引起高兴的东西。周围的景物并不好一些。在他脚边各色各样的茶叶箱和其他粗陋的箱子中，磨工罗布的鸽子在咕咕地叫着，很像吹起微风时的凄惋的。有一位把望远镜放在眼睛前面的海军军官候补生，过去曾经一度可以从街道上看到他，但是却长期被砖墙遮挡住了；他是一个摇晃不稳的风向标，当强烈的疾风把他吹刮得团团旋转，并残酷地跟他闹着玩的时候，他在生锈的枢轴上抱怨诉苦，发出了吱吱嘎嘎的声音。寒冷的雨点像钢珠一样在船长的粗糙的蓝色背心上跳起来，猛烈的西北风紧紧吹刮着他的身子，他几乎歪歪斜斜地站不住脚跟；这狂风不肯罢休地袭击着他，想把他从栏杆上推翻下去，抛掷到下面的人行道上。船长抓住帽子，心想今晚如果还有保住性命的希望的话，那么这希望自然是在家里而不是在户外，因此，船长就垂头丧气地摇晃着脑袋，走进屋子去寻找这希望。
卡特尔船长慢吞吞地下了楼，走到后客厅里，坐在他平日的椅子中，开始在炉火中寻找希望；虽然炉火熊熊，明明亮亮，但是它不在那里。他取出烟草盒子和烟斗，安下心来抽烟，并从烟斗中烧红的烟火中和从他嘴中喷出的缭绕的烟雾中寻找它，可是那里连希望的一星半点的微粒也找不到。他倒了一杯搀水的烈酒试试，但是他不能喝干它，否则令人伤感失望的真相就会在杯底露出来了。他在店铺里走了一、两圈，从那些仪器中寻找希望，可是不管他能提出什么反对意见，它们都固执地计算出那条失踪的船的航程，指明它沉落在寂寞的海底。
风仍旧在狂吹，雨仍旧在打着关上的百叶窗；船长在柜台上的木制海军军官候补生的前面停住；当他用袖子擦干这位小军官的制服时，心中想道：这位海军军官候补生在这世界上已经度过了多少个岁月；在过去这些岁月中，他船上的船员们是很少发生变化的--几乎没有任何变化；但这些变化又怎样几乎在一天之内骤然一齐来临；它们又怎样具有一种摧毁一切的性质。在后客厅里的经常聚会如今已经土崩瓦解了；这一小群人如今离散四方，相距遥远。”可爱的配格姑娘”这支歌曲即使有人唱它，也没有听众了，而实际上并没有会唱它的人，因为船长确信，除了他本人之外，没有别人能唱这个小调，而他在目前的情况下又没有情绪去唱它。屋子里看不到沃尔特的欢乐的脸孔--这时船长的袖子离开了海军军官候补生的制服，在他自己的脸上擦了一会儿--；所尔?吉尔斯那熟悉的假发和钮扣已成为过去的幻影；理查德?惠廷顿遭到了当头一棒；与海军军官候补生有关的一切计划与打算，正在茫茫的海浪上漂流，既没有桅，也没有舵。
船长脸色沮丧，站在那里，反复思考着这些事情，同时擦着海军军官候补生；他在擦的时候，部分地怀着对一位老朋友的亲切情谊，部分地又有些心不在焉；就在这时候，店门上突然响起了敲门声，这使坐在柜台上的磨工罗布顿时惊恐地哆嗦了一下；在这之前，他的大眼睛一直在聚精会神地注视着船长的脸孔，心中千百次地思考着这个问题：船长是不是杀了人，深感内疚，所以一直在想逃跑呢？
“什么事？”卡特尔船长低声问道。
“有人敲门，船长，”磨工罗布回答道。