You will believe that I lost no time in quizzing my host about this mysterious “gray meteor.”
“Ach,” said he, “some deserter. Geneva and Locle are full uff them.”
“Geneva and Locle are near the border,” I said, “and all they have to do is to take a hop1, skip and a jump to get there. There are some from over the Rhine, too,” I added, for I did not relish2 his implication that all deserters were from France.
“Well, diss one is American, anyway,” he said.
“And how about his German coat?” I asked; “how do you know he is American?”
“He iss crazy, dat is why,” he laughed. “He must be alwavss camping out. Don’t you worry about him.”
“Sure, he iss lazy.”
“He is suffering from shell shock or something of that sort,” I said, ignoring his remark. “And what I should like to know is, how did he find his way up here in such a state. Besides,” I added, “he should have care and companionship. He is in no condition to be living in that hole of a cave. Do you know anything about him?”
“He come apout a mont’ ago—nobody knows how. I ask him een, put he will haff nudding. The childrens, dey call him de gray meteor. Maybe he come from Mars—what?”
I soon found that if this poor, strayed soul had ever been a sensation he had long since ceased to be one. The children still found him a source of entertainment, made fun of him, and I am afraid, annoyed him. Otherwise he lived in his cave, shunned4 the village and all other haunts of men. I understood that he lived chiefly on fish which he caught, but sometimes the children left food near his solitary5 retreat.
As to his being a deserter, that may very well have been the case, I thought, but deserter or not, he was suffering from shell shock if I knew anything about the manifestations6 of that dreadful thing.
How he had penetrated7 so far to this obscure retreat I could not conjecture8, for though not far distant in miles from the border, the spot was unfrequented and almost inaccessible9. Nor was such remoteness necessary. In Basel, or any of the places along the western frontier, he would have been as safe from molestation10 as at the North Pole. First and last, his presence there puzzled and interested me, and his condition aroused my sympathy.
All the next day my thoughts dwelt upon his gaunt appearance and frightened look and on that vacillating timidity and uncertainty11 of action which bespoke12 a crippled power of will. There was no mistaking those signs; I had seen them before.
The morning following I dug into my grip and picking out several of the bully14 old pals15 which I had brought with me, sallied forth16 to the retreat of the “gray meteor.” From what Herr Twann had said I surmised17 that he spoke13 English and finding him kneeling by the ashes of his fire, in about the same position as when I had left him the day before, I said cheerily:
The look he gave me pierced me to the heart. I felt that he would either run away or crawl to me like a guilty dog in grovelling19 shame. He breathed heavily and his eyes were lit with an anguish20 of terror. He started to rise but apparently21 had not the strength of will to lift himself and as he crouched22 there a twig23 broke under his feet and he started as if a cannon24 had been shot off close by.
“I think you’ve been trying to get a fire,” said I pleasantly, “by rubbing those two sticks together. Am I right?”
He only looked at me and smiled uncertainly. “That’s a pretty hard stunt,” I continued. “Suppose we start it with a match this time and tomorrow I’ll hunt this business up. I’ve a book that tells about those things. You and I will run through it together.”
I lighted the little parcel of twigs25 which he had gathered and after watching the flame a few moments he said, “More?” and seemed irresolute26 whether to bring more twigs or not.
“A few more, then a couple of big pieces, and we’ll be all hunk,” I said.
The fire well started, we sat down beside it.
“Quite hot,” said I.
“You were right the first time,” I added, which seemed to afford him a kind of childish pleasure.
“Now,” said I, “if you think I’m a soldier because I have on this khaki suit, you’re mistaken. I’m a fellow that writes stories and things, and I like to camp just as you do. I think you and I are very much alike. Will you tell me your name?”
He shook his head, smiling weakly. It seemed to me that he had no objection to telling me, but that he just lacked the stamina29 to do it. I therefore began to speak of something else and after a moment he said:
“Tasso.”
“Is that your name?”
He nodded as if he had done a great thing in telling me. Then a slight movement of my arm startled him and he jumped and trembled.
“Are you Italian?” I said; “is that your first name or your last name?”
“Both,” he said.
“Well,” said I, “you and I are going to be friends, anyway. And I’ve brought along another friend, too. He’s in a book named Kidnapped. He went on a long hike and lived in caves just like you. He made a long trip through mountains with a companion and at last got to Edinburgh.”
He looked at me for a moment in a puzzled way and then asked hesitatingly, “Did he get there in the night?”
“Indeed, I don’t remember,” I said, “but we shall find out.”
Suddenly he began to cry like a baby and it was pitiful to see him. While he was crying I began to read those wonderful adventures of David Balfour and he soon seemed to listen. But with every stir he would start like a frightened animal and he had a way of twisting and pulling the cord around his neck which was heartrending to see, so weak and aimless was it. But he was attentive30 and evidently interested.
Thus began my acquaintance with that forlorn derelict of the great war, and my simple program for helping31 him seemed to have begun auspiciously32. Each day I visited him and read to him and though he said little, and that to no purpose, he seemed interested and would listen silently hour after hour, starting at the merest sound or movement, and twirling and twisting the cord on which hung his rusty33, broken compass.
On the evening of the fourth or fifth day I saw him coming up the mountain path toward the little inn. He paused trembling at the edge of our little arbor34 and breathed as if he were very weary. I rose slowly, being particular to make no noise or sudden movement, and greeted him as if he had been coming each day. He stood uncertainly, intertwining his fingers, and seemed on the point of retreating. But he had come, and that was a great step in advance.
“I think it is my front name,” he said, as if that were the purpose of his call.
“Oh, yes,” said I. “Tasso. So now I’ll call you Tasso.”
“If it thunders will you come and stay with me?” he asked.
“Indeed I will,” said I, “but it’s not going to thunder and tomorrow you and I are going to take a hike together.”
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1
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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2
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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3
nettled
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| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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7
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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10
molestation
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| n.骚扰，干扰，调戏；折磨 | |
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11
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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bespoke
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| 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 | |
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13
spoke
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| 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 | |
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14
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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grovelling
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| adj.卑下的，奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 )；趴 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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24
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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29
stamina
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| n.体力；精力；耐力 | |
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30
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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auspiciously
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| adv.吉利； 繁荣昌盛； 前途顺利； 吉祥 | |
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33
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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