“It is the Professor von Holzen,” said a stout1 woman who still keeps the egg and butter shop at the corner of St. Jacob Straat in The Hague; she is a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens2 of St. Jacob Straat and its neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers live—“it is the Professor von Holzen, who passes this way once or twice a week. He is a good man.”
“His coat is of a good cloth,” answered her customer, a young man with a melancholy3 dark eye and a racial appreciation4 of the material things of this world.
Some say that it is not wise to pass through St. Jacob Straat or Bezem Straat alone and after nightfall, for there are lurking5 forms within the doorways6, and shuffling7 feet may be heard in the many passages. During the daytime the passer-by will, if he looks up quickly enough, see furtive8 faces at the windows, of men, and more especially of women, who never seem to come abroad, but pass their lives behind those unwashed curtains, with carefully closed windows, and in an atmosphere which may be faintly imagined by a glance at the wares10 in the shop below. The pavement of St. Jacob Straat is also pressed into the service of that commerce in old metal and damaged domestic utensils12 which seems to enable thousands of the accursed people to live and thrive according to their lights. It will be observed that the vendors13, with a knowledge of human nature doubtless bred of experience, only expose upon the pavement articles such as bedsteads, stoves, and other heavy ware9 which may not be snatched up by the fleet of foot. Within the shops are crowded clothes and books and a thousand miscellaneous effects of small value. A hush14 seems to hang over this street. Even the children, white-faced and melancholy, with deep expressionless eyes and drooping15 noses, seem to have realized too soon the gravity of life, and rarely indulge in games.
He whom the butter-merchant described as Professor von Holzen passed quickly along the middle of the street, with an air suggesting a desire to attract as little attention as possible. He was a heavy-shouldered man with a bad mouth—a greedy mouth, one would think—and mild eyes. The month was September, and the professor wore a thin black overcoat closely buttoned across his broad chest. He carried a pair of slate-coloured gloves and an umbrella. His whole appearance bespoke16 learning and middle-class respectability. It is, after all, no use being learned without looking learned, and Professor von Holzen took care to dress according to his station in life. His attitude towards the world seemed to say, “Leave me alone and I will not trouble you,” which is, after all, as satisfactory an attitude as may be desired. It is, at all events, better than the common attitude of the many, that says, “Let us exchange confidences,” leading to the barter18 of two valueless commodities.
The professor stopped at the door of No. 15, St. Jacob Straat—one of the oldest houses in this old street—and slowly lighted a cigar. There is a shop on the ground-floor of No. 15, where ancient pieces of stove-pipe and a few fire-irons are exposed for sale. Von Holzen, having pushed open the door, stood waiting at the foot of a narrow and grimy staircase. He knew that in such a shop in such a quarter of the town there is always a human spider lurking in the background, who steals out upon any human fly that may pause to look at the wares.
This spider presently appeared—a wizened19 woman with a face like that of a witch. Von Holzen pointed20 upward to the room above them. She shook her head regretfully.
“Still alive,” she said.
And the professor turned toward the stair, but paused at the bottom step.
“Here,” he said, extending his fingers. “Some milk. How much has he had?”
“So he has,” said the professor, with a grim smile, as he went upstairs. He ascended23 slowly, puffing24 out the smoke of his cigar before him with a certain skill, so that his progress was a form of fumigation26. The fear of infection is the only fear to which men will own, and it is hard to understand why this form of cowardice27 should be less despicable than others. Von Holzen was a German, and that nation combines courage with so deep a caution that mistaken persons sometimes think the former adjunct lacking. The mark of a wound across his cheek told that in his student days this man had, after due deliberation, considered it necessary to fight. Some, looking at Von Holzen's face, might wonder what mark the other student bore as a memento28 of that encounter.
Von Holzen pushed open a door that stood ajar at the head of the stair, and went slowly into the room, preceded by a puff25 of smoke. The place was not full of furniture, properly speaking, although it was littered with many household effects which had no business in a bedroom. It was, indeed, used as a storehouse for such wares as the proprietor29 of the shop only offered to a chosen few. The atmosphere of the room must have been a very Tower of Babel, where strange foreign bacilli from all parts of the world rose up and wrangled30 in the air.
Upon a sham31 Empire table, très antique, near the window, stood three water-jugs and a glass of imitation Venetian work. A yellow hand stretching from a dark heap of bedclothes clutched the glass and held it out, empty, when Von Holzen came into the room.
“I have sent for milk,” said the professor, smoking hard, and heedful not to look too closely into the dark corner where the bed was situated32.
“You are kind,” said a voice, and it was impossible to guess whether its tone was sarcastic33 or grateful.
Von Holzen looked at the empty water-jugs with a smile, and shrugged34 his shoulders. His intention had perhaps been a kind one. A bad mouth usually indicates a soft heart.
“It is because you have something to gain,” said the hollow voice from the bed.
“I have something to gain, but I can do without it,” replied Von Holzen, turning to the door and taking a jug21 of milk from the hand of a child waiting there.
“And the change,” he said sharply.
Von Holzen filled the tumbler and handed it to the sick man, who a moment later held it out empty.
“Will it keep me alive?”
“Nothing can do that, my friend,” answered Von Holzen. He looked down at the yellow face peering at him from the darkness. It seemed to be the face of a very aged11 man, with eyes wide open and blood-shot. A thickness of speech was accounted for by the absence of teeth.
The man laughed gleefully. “All the same, I have lived longer than any of them,” he said. How many of us pride ourselves upon possessing an advantage which others never covet37!
“Yes,” answered Von Holzen, gravely. “How old are you?”
“Nearly thirty-five,” was the answer.
Von Holzen nodded, and, turning on his heel, looked thoughtfully out of the window. The light fell full on his face, which would have been a fine one were the mouth hidden. The eyes were dark and steady. A high forehead looked higher by reason of a growth of thick hair standing38 nearly an inch upright from the scalp, like the fur of a beaver39 in life, without curl or ripple40. The chin was long and pointed. A face, this, that any would turn to look at again. One would think that such a man would get on in the world. But none may judge of another in this respect. It is a strange fact that intimacy41 with any who has made for himself a great name leads to the inevitable42 conclusion that he is unworthy of it.
“Wonderful!” murmured Von Holzen—“wonderful! Nearly thirty-five!” And it was hard to say what his thoughts really were. The only sound that came from the bed was the sound of drinking.
“And I know more about the trade than any, for I was brought up to it from boyhood,” said the dying man, with an uncanny bravado43. “I did not wait until I was driven to it, like most.”
“Not all skill—not all skill,” piped the metallic45 voice, indistinctly. “There was knowledge also.”
Von Holzen, standing with his hands in the pockets of his thin overcoat, shrugged his shoulders. They had arrived by an oft-trodden path to an ancient point of divergence46. Presently Von Holzen turned and went towards the bed. The yellow hand and arm lay stretched out across the table, and Holzen's finger softly found the pulse.
“You are weaker,” he said. “It is only right that I should tell you.”
The man did not answer, but lay back, breathing quickly. Something seemed to catch in his throat. Von Holzen went to the door, and furtive steps moved away down the dark staircase.
“Go,” he said authoritatively47, “for the doctor, at once.” Then he came back towards the bed. “Will you take my price?” he said to its occupant. “I offer it to you for the last time.”
“A thousand gulden?”
“Yes.”
“It is too little money,” replied the dying man. “Make it twelve hundred.”
Von Holzen turned away to the window again thoughtfully. A silence seemed to have fallen over the busy streets, to fill the untidy room. The angel of death, not for the first time, found himself in company with the greed of men.
“I will do that,” said Von Holzen at length, “as you are dying.”
“Have you the money with you?”
“Yes.”
“Ah!” said the dying man, regretfully. It was only natural, perhaps, that he was sorry that he had not asked more. “Sit down,” he said, “and write.”
Von Holzen did as he was bidden. He had also a pocket-book and pencil in readiness. Slowly, as if drawing from the depths of a long-stored memory, the dying man dictated48 a prescription49 in a mixture of dog-Latin and Dutch, which his hearer seemed to understand readily enough. The money, in dull-coloured notes, lay on the table before the writer. The prescription was a long one, covering many pages of the note-book, and the particulars as to preparation and temperature of the various liquid ingredients filled up another two pages.
“There,” said the dying man at length, “I have treated you fairly. I have told you all I know. Give me the money.”
Von Holzen crossed the room and placed the notes within the yellow fingers, which closed over them.
“Ah,” said the recipient50, “I have had more than that in my hand. I was rich once, and I spent it all in Amsterdam. Now read over your writing. I will treat you fairly.”
Von Holzen stood by the window and read aloud from his book.
“Yes,” said the other. “One sees that you took your diploma at Leyden. You have made no mistake.”
Von Holzen closed the book and replaced it in his pocket. His face bore no sign of exultation51. His somewhat phlegmatic52 calm successfully concealed53 the fact that he had at last obtained information which he had long sought. A cart rattled54 past over the cobble-stones, making speech inaudible for the moment. The man moved uneasily on the bed. Von Holzen went towards him and poured out more milk. Instead of reaching out for it, the sick man's hand lay on the coverlet. The notes were tightly held by three fingers; the free finger and the thumb picked at the counterpane. Von Holzen bent55 over the bed and examined the face. The sick man's eyes were closed. Suddenly he spoke17 in a mumbling56 voice—“And now that you have what you want, you will go.”
“No,” answered Von Holzen, in a kind voice, “I will not do that. I will stay with you if you do not want to be left alone. You are brave, at all events. I shall be horribly afraid when it comes to my turn to die.”
“You would not be afraid if you had lived a life such as mine. Death cannot be worse, at all events.” And the man laughed contentedly57 enough, as one who, having passed through evil days, sees the end of them at last.
Von Holzen made no answer. He went to the window and opened it, letting in the air laden58 with the clean scent59 of burning peat, which makes the atmosphere of The Hague unlike that of any other town; for here is a city with the smell of a village in its busy streets. The German scientist stood looking out, and into the room came again that strange silence. It was an odd room in which to die, for every article in it was what is known as an antiquity60; and although some of these relics61 of the past had been carefully manufactured in a back shop in Bezem Straat, others were really of ancient date. The very glass from which the dying man drank his milk dated from the glorious days of Holland when William the Silent pitted his Northern stubbornness and deep diplomacy62 against the fire and fanaticism63 of Alva. Many objects in the room had a story, had been in the daily use of hands long since vanished, could tell the history of half a dozen human lives lived out and now forgotten. The air itself smelt64 of age and mouldering65 memories.
Von Holzen came towards the bed without speaking, and stood looking down. Never a talkative man, he was now further silenced by the shadow that lay over the stricken face of his companion. The sick man was breathing very slowly. He glanced at Von Holzen for a moment, and then returned to the dull contemplation of the opposite wall. Quite suddenly his breath caught. There were long pauses during which he seemed to cease to breathe. Then at length followed a pause which merged66 itself gently into eternity67.
Von Holzen waited a few minutes, and then bent over the bed and softly unclasped the dead man's hand, taking from it the crumpled68 notes. Mechanically he counted them, twelve hundred gulden in all, and restored them to the pocket from which he had taken them half an hour earlier.
He walked to the window and waited. When at length the district doctor arrived, Von Holzen turned to greet him with a stiff bow.
“I am afraid, Herr Doctor,” he said, in German, “You are too late.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
2
denizens
|
|
| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
lurking
|
|
| 潜在 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
doorways
|
|
| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
shuffling
|
|
| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
furtive
|
|
| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
ware
|
|
| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
wares
|
|
| n. 货物, 商品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
utensils
|
|
| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
vendors
|
|
| n.摊贩( vendor的名词复数 )；小贩；（房屋等的）卖主；卖方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
drooping
|
|
| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
bespoke
|
|
| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
barter
|
|
| n.物物交换，以货易货，实物交易 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
wizened
|
|
| adj.凋谢的；枯槁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
jug
|
|
| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
jugs
|
|
| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
puffing
|
|
| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
puff
|
|
| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
fumigation
|
|
| n.烟熏，熏蒸；忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
cowardice
|
|
| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
memento
|
|
| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
proprietor
|
|
| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
wrangled
|
|
| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
sham
|
|
| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
situated
|
|
| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
sarcastic
|
|
| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
copper
|
|
| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
covet
|
|
| vt.垂涎；贪图(尤指属于他人的东西) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
beaver
|
|
| n.海狸，河狸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
ripple
|
|
| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
bravado
|
|
| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
metallic
|
|
| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
divergence
|
|
| n.分歧，岔开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
authoritatively
|
|
| 命令式地，有权威地，可信地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
dictated
|
|
| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
prescription
|
|
| n.处方，开药；指示，规定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
recipient
|
|
| a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
exultation
|
|
| n.狂喜，得意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
phlegmatic
|
|
| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
rattled
|
|
| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
mumbling
|
|
| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
contentedly
|
|
| adv.心满意足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
antiquity
|
|
| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
relics
|
|
| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
diplomacy
|
|
| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
fanaticism
|
|
| n.狂热，盲信 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
smelt
|
|
| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
mouldering
|
|
| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
merged
|
|
| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
eternity
|
|
| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
crumpled
|
|
| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |