THE Gadfly's recovery was rapid. One afternoon in the following week Riccardo found him lying on the sofa in a Turkish dressing-gown, chatting with Martini and Galli. He even talked about going downstairs; but Riccardo merely laughed at the suggestion and asked whether he would like a tramp across the valley to Fiesole to start with.
"You might go and call on the Grassinis for a change," he added wickedly. "I'm sure madame would be delighted to see you, especially now, when you look so pale and interesting."
The Gadfly clasped his hands with a tragic1 gesture.
"Bless my soul! I never thought of that! She'd take me for one of Italy's martyrs2, and talk patriotism3 to me. I should have to act up to the part, and tell her I've been cut to pieces in an underground dungeon4 and stuck together again rather badly; and she'd want to know exactly what the process felt like. You don't think she'd believe it, Riccardo? I'll bet you my Indian dagger5 against the bottled tape-worm in your den6 that she'll swallow the biggest lie I can invent. That's a generous offer, and you'd better jump at it."
"Thanks, I'm not so fond of murderous tools as you are."
"Well, a tape-worm is as murderous as a dagger, any day, and not half so pretty."
"But as it happens, my dear fellow, I don't want the dagger and I do want the tape-worm. Martini, I must run off. Are you in charge of this obstreperous7 patient?"
"Only till three o'clock. Galli and I have to go to San Miniato, and Signora Bolla is coming till I can get back."
"Signora Bolla!" the Gadfly repeated in a tone of dismay. "Why, Martini, this will never do! I can't have a lady bothered over me and my ailments8. Besides, where is she to sit? She won't like to come in here."
"Since when have you gone in so fiercely for the proprieties9?" asked Riccardo, laughing. "My good man, Signora Bolla is head nurse in general to all of us. She has looked after sick people ever since she was in short frocks, and does it better than any sister of mercy I know. Won't like to come into your room! Why, you might be talking of the Grassini woman! I needn't leave any directions if she's coming, Martini. Heart alive, it's half-past two; I must be off!"
"Now, Rivarez, take your physic before she comes," said Galli, approaching the sofa with a medicine glass.
"Damn the physic!" The Gadfly had reached the irritable10 stage of convalescence11, and was inclined to give his devoted12 nurses a bad time. "W-what do you want to d-d-dose me with all sorts of horrors for now the pain is gone?"
"Just because I don't want it to come back. You wouldn't like it if you collapsed13 when Signora Bolla is here and she had to give you opium14."
"My g-good sir, if that pain is going to come back it will come; it's not a t-toothache to be frightened away with your trashy mixtures. They are about as much use as a t-toy squirt for a house on fire. However, I suppose you must have your way."
He took the glass with his left hand, and the sight of the terrible scars recalled Galli to the former subject of conversation.
"By the way," he asked; "how did you get so much knocked about? In the war, was it?"
"Now, didn't I just tell you it was a case of secret dungeons15 and----"
"Yes, that version is for Signora Grassini's benefit. Really, I suppose it was in the war with Brazil?"
"Yes, I got a bit hurt there; and then hunting in the savage16 districts and one thing and another."
"Ah, yes; on the scientific expedition. You can fasten your shirt; I have quite done. You seem to have had an exciting time of it out there."
"Well, of course you can't live in savage countries without getting a few adventures once in a way," said the Gadfly lightly; "and you can hardly expect them all to be pleasant."
"Still, I don't understand how you managed to get so much knocked about unless in a bad adventure with wild beasts--those scars on your left arm, for instance."
"Ah, that was in a puma17-hunt. You see, I had fired----"
There was a knock at the door.
"Is the room tidy, Martini? Yes? Then please open the door. This is really most kind, signora; you must excuse my not getting up."
"Of course you mustn't get up; I have not come as a caller. I am a little early, Cesare. I thought perhaps you were in a hurry to go."
"I can stop for a quarter of an hour. Let me put your cloak in the other room. Shall I take the basket, too?"
"Take care; those are new-laid eggs. Katie brought them in from Monte Oliveto this morning. There are some Christmas roses for you, Signor Rivarez; I know you are fond of flowers."
She sat down beside the table and began clipping the stalks of the flowers and arranging them in a vase.
"Well, Rivarez," said Galli; "tell us the rest of the puma-hunt story; you had just begun."
"Ah, yes! Galli was asking me about life in South America, signora; and I was telling him how I came to get my left arm spoiled. It was in Peru. We had been wading18 a river on a puma-hunt, and when I fired at the beast the powder wouldn't go off; it had got splashed with water. Naturally the puma didn't wait for me to rectify19 that; and this is the result."
"That must have been a pleasant experience."
"Oh, not so bad! One must take the rough with the smooth, of course; but it's a splendid life on the whole. Serpent-catching20, for instance----"
He rattled21 on, telling anecdote22 after anecdote; now of the Argentine war, now of the Brazilian expedition, now of hunting feats23 and adventures with savages24 or wild beasts. Galli, with the delight of a child hearing a fairy story, kept interrupting every moment to ask questions. He was of the impressionable Neapolitan temperament25 and loved everything sensational26. Gemma took some knitting from her basket and listened silently, with busy fingers and downcast eyes. Martini frowned and fidgeted. The manner in which the anecdotes27 were told seemed to him boastful and self-conscious; and, notwithstanding his unwilling29 admiration30 for a man who could endure physical pain with the amazing fortitude31 which he had seen the week before, he genuinely disliked the Gadfly and all his works and ways.
"It must have been a glorious life!" sighed Galli with naive32 envy. "I wonder you ever made up your mind to leave Brazil. Other countries must seem so flat after it!"
"I think I was happiest in Peru and Ecuador," said the Gadfly. "That really is a magnificent tract33 of country. Of course it is very hot, especially the coast district of Ecuador, and one has to rough it a bit; but the scenery is superb beyond imagination."
"I believe," said Galli, "the perfect freedom of life in a barbarous country would attract me more than any scenery. A man must feel his personal, human dignity as he can never feel it in our crowded towns."
"Yes," the Gadfly answered; "that is----"
Gemma raised her eyes from her knitting and looked at him. He flushed suddenly scarlet34 and broke off. There was a little pause.
"Surely it is not come on again?" asked Galli anxiously.
"Oh, nothing to speak of, thanks to your s-s-soothing application that I b-b-blasphemed against. Are you going already, Martini?"
"Yes. Come along, Galli; we shall be late."
Gemma followed the two men out of the room, and presently returned with an egg beaten up in milk.
"Take this, please," she said with mild authority; and sat down again to her knitting. The Gadfly obeyed meekly35.
For half an hour, neither spoke36. Then the Gadfly said in a very low voice:
"Signora Bolla!"
She looked up. He was tearing the fringe of the couch-rug, and kept his eyes lowered.
"You didn't believe I was speaking the truth just now," he began.
"I had not the smallest doubt that you were telling falsehoods," she answered quietly.
"You were quite right. I was telling falsehoods all the time."
"Do you mean about the war?"
"About everything. I was not in that war at all; and as for the expedition, I had a few adventures, of course, and most of those stories are true, but it was not that way I got smashed. You have detected me in one lie, so I may as well confess the lot, I suppose."
"Does it not seem to you rather a waste of energy to invent so many falsehoods?" she asked. "I should have thought it was hardly worth the trouble."
"What would you have? You know your own English proverb: 'Ask no questions and you'll be told no lies.' It's no pleasure to me to fool people that way, but I must answer them somehow when they ask what made a cripple of me; and I may as well invent something pretty while I'm about it. You saw how pleased Galli was."
"Do you prefer pleasing Galli to speaking the truth?"
"The truth!" He looked up with the torn fringe in his hand. "You wouldn't have me tell those people the truth? I'd cut my tongue out first!" Then with an awkward, shy abruptness37:
"I have never told it to anybody yet; but I'll tell you if you care to hear."
She silently laid down her knitting. To her there was something grievously pathetic in this hard, secret, unlovable creature, suddenly flinging his personal confidence at the feet of a woman whom he barely knew and whom he apparently38 disliked.
A long silence followed, and she looked up. He was leaning his left arm on the little table beside him, and shading his eyes with the mutilated hand, and she noticed the nervous tension of the fingers and the throbbing39 of the scar on the wrist. She came up to him and called him softly by name. He started violently and raised his head.
"I f-forgot," he stammered40 apologetically. "I was g-going to t-tell you about----"
"About the--accident or whatever it was that caused your lameness41. But if it worries you----"
"The accident? Oh, the smashing! Yes; only it wasn't an accident, it was a poker43."
She stared at him in blank amazement44. He pushed back his hair with a hand that shook perceptibly, and looked up at her, smiling.
"Won't you sit down? Bring your chair close, please. I'm so sorry I can't get it for you. R-really, now I come to think of it, the case would have been a p-perfect t-treasure-trove for Riccardo if he had had me to treat; he has the true surgeon's love for broken bones, and I believe everything in me that was breakable was broken on that occasion--except my neck."
"And your courage," she put in softly. "But perhaps you count that among your unbreakable possessions."
He shook his head. "No," he said; "my courage has been mended up after a fashion, with the rest of me; but it was fairly broken then, like a smashed tea-cup; that's the horrible part of it. Ah---- Yes; well, I was telling you about the poker.
"It was--let me see--nearly thirteen years ago, in Lima. I told you Peru was a delightful45 country to live in; but it's not quite so nice for people that happen to be at low water, as I was. I had been down in the Argentine, and then in Chili46, tramping the country and starving, mostly; and had come up from Valparaiso as odd-man on a cattle-boat. I couldn't get any work in Lima itself, so I went down to the docks,--they're at Callao, you know,--to try there. Well of course in all those shipping-ports there are low quarters where the sea-faring people congregate47; and after some time I got taken on as servant in one of the gambling48 hells there. I had to do the cooking and billiard-marking, and fetch drink for the sailors and their women, and all that sort of thing. Not very pleasant work; still I was glad to get it; there was at least food and the sight of human faces and sound of human tongues--of a kind. You may think that was no advantage; but I had just been down with yellow fever, alone in the outhouse of a wretched half-caste shanty49, and the thing had given me the horrors. Well, one night I was told to put out a tipsy Lascar who was making himself obnoxious50; he had come ashore51 and lost all his money and was in a bad temper. Of course I had to obey if I didn't want to lose my place and starve; but the man was twice as strong as I--I was not twenty-one and as weak as a cat after the fever. Besides, he had the poker."
He paused a moment, glancing furtively53 at her; then went on:
"Apparently he intended to put an end to me altogether; but somehow he managed to scamp his work--Lascars always do if they have a chance; and left just enough of me not smashed to go on living with."
"Yes, but the other people, could they not interfere54? Were they all afraid of one Lascar?"
He looked up and burst out laughing.
"THE OTHER PEOPLE? The gamblers and the people of the house? Why, you don't understand! They were negroes and Chinese and Heaven knows what; and I was their servant--THEIR PROPERTY. They stood round and enjoyed the fun, of course. That sort of thing counts for a good joke out there. So it is if you don't happen to be the subject practised on."
"Then what was the end of it?"
"That I can't tell you much about; a man doesn't remember the next few days after a thing of that kind, as a rule. But there was a ship's surgeon near, and it seems that when they found I was not dead, somebody called him in. He patched me up after a fashion--Riccardo seems to think it was rather badly done, but that may be professional jealousy56. Anyhow, when I came to my senses, an old native woman had taken me in for Christian57 charity--that sounds queer, doesn't it? She used to sit huddled58 up in the corner of the hut, smoking a black pipe and spitting on the floor and crooning to herself. However, she meant well, and she told me I might die in peace and nobody should disturb me. But the spirit of contradiction was strong in me and I elected to live. It was rather a difficult job scrambling59 back to life, and sometimes I am inclined to think it was a great deal of cry for very little wool. Anyway that old woman's patience was wonderful; she kept me--how long was it?--nearly four months lying in her hut, raving60 like a mad thing at intervals61, and as vicious as a bear with a sore ear between-whiles. The pain was pretty bad, you see, and my temper had been spoiled in childhood with overmuch coddling."
"And then?"
"Oh, then--I got up somehow and crawled away. No, don't think it was any delicacy62 about taking a poor woman's charity--I was past caring for that; it was only that I couldn't bear the place any longer. You talked just now about my courage; if you had seen me then! The worst of the pain used to come on every evening, about dusk; and in the afternoon I used to lie alone, and watch the sun get lower and lower---- Oh, you can't understand! It makes me sick to look at a sunset now!"
A long pause.
"Well, then I went up country, to see if I could get work anywhere--it would have driven me mad to stay in Lima. I got as far as Cuzco, and there------ Really I don't know why I'm inflicting63 all this ancient history on you; it hasn't even the merit of being funny."
She raised her head and looked at him with deep and serious eyes. "PLEASE don't talk that way," she said.
He bit his lip and tore off another piece of the rug-fringe.
"Shall I go on?" he asked after a moment.
"If--if you will. I am afraid it is horrible to you to remember."
"Do you think I forget when I hold my tongue? It's worse then. But don't imagine it's the thing itself that haunts me so. It is the fact of having lost the power over myself."
"I--don't think I quite understand."
"I mean, it is the fact of having come to the end of my courage, to the point where I found myself a coward."
"Surely there is a limit to what anyone can bear."
"Yes; and the man who has once reached that limit never knows when he may reach it again."
"Would you mind telling me," she asked, hesitating, "how you came to be stranded64 out there alone at twenty?"
"Very simply: I had a good opening in life, at home in the old country, and ran away from it."
"Why?"
He laughed again in his quick, harsh way.
"Why? Because I was a priggish young cub65, I suppose. I had been brought up in an over-luxurious home, and coddled and faddled after till I thought the world was made of pink cotton-wool and sugared almonds. Then one fine day I found out that someone I had trusted had deceived me. Why, how you start! What is it?"
"Nothing. Go on, please."
"I found out that I had been tricked into believing a lie; a common bit of experience, of course; but, as I tell you, I was young and priggish, and thought that liars66 go to hell. So I ran away from home and plunged67 into South America to sink or swim as I could, without a cent in my pocket or a word of Spanish in my tongue, or anything but white hands and expensive habits to get my bread with. And the natural result was that I got a dip into the real hell to cure me of imagining sham68 ones. A pretty thorough dip, too--it was just five years before the Duprez expedition came along and pulled me out."
"Five years! Oh, that is terrible! And had you no friends?"
"Friends! I"--he turned on her with sudden fierceness--"I have NEVER had a friend!"
The next instant he seemed a little ashamed of his vehemence69, and went on quickly:
"You mustn't take all this too seriously; I dare say I made the worst of things, and really it wasn't so bad the first year and a half; I was young and strong and I managed to scramble70 along fairly well till the Lascar put his mark on me. But after that I couldn't get work. It's wonderful what an effectual tool a poker is if you handle it properly; and nobody cares to employ a cripple."
"What sort of work did you do?"
"What I could get. For some time I lived by odd-jobbing for the blacks on the sugar plantations71, fetching and carrying and so on. It's one of the curious things in life, by the way, that slaves always contrive72 to have a slave of their own, and there's nothing a negro likes so much as a white fag to bully73. But it was no use; the overseers always turned me off. I was too lame42 to be quick; and I couldn't manage the heavy loads. And then I was always getting these attacks of inflammation, or whatever the confounded thing is.
"After some time I went down to the silver-mines and tried to get work there; but it was all no good. The managers laughed at the very notion of taking me on, and as for the men, they made a dead set at me."
"Why was that?"
"Oh, human nature, I suppose; they saw I had only one hand that I could hit back with. They're a mangy, half-caste lot; negroes and Zambos mostly. And then those horrible coolies! So at last I got enough of that, and set off to tramp the country at random74; just wandering about, on the chance of something turning up."
"To tramp? With that lame foot!"
He looked up with a sudden, piteous catching of the breath.
"I--I was hungry," he said.
She turned her head a little away and rested her chin on one hand. After a moment's silence he began again, his voice sinking lower and lower as he spoke:
"Well, I tramped, and tramped, till I was nearly mad with tramping, and nothing came of it. I got down into Ecuador, and there it was worse than ever. Sometimes I'd get a bit of tinkering to do,--I'm a pretty fair tinker,--or an errand to run, or a pigstye to clean out; sometimes I did--oh, I hardly know what. And then at last, one day------"
The slender, brown hand clenched75 itself suddenly on the table, and Gemma, raising her head, glanced at him anxiously. His side-face was turned towards her, and she could see a vein76 on the temple beating like a hammer, with quick, irregular strokes. She bent77 forward and laid a gentle hand on his arm.
"Never mind the rest; it's almost too horrible to talk about."
He stared doubtfully at the hand, shook his head, and went on steadily78:
"Then one day I met a travelling variety show. You remember that one the other night; well, that sort of thing, only coarser and more indecent. The Zambos are not like these gentle Florentines; they don't care for anything that is not foul79 or brutal80. There was bull-fighting, too, of course. They had camped out by the roadside for the night; and I went up to their tent to beg. Well, the weather was hot and I was half starved, and so--I fainted at the door of the tent. I had a trick of fainting suddenly at that time, like a boarding-school girl with tight stays. So they took me in and gave me brandy, and food, and so on; and then--the next morning--they offered me----"
Another pause.
"They wanted a hunchback, or monstrosity of some kind; for the boys to pelt81 with orange-peel and banana-skins--something to set the blacks laughing------ You saw the clown that night-- well, I was that--for two years. I suppose you have a humanitarian82 feeling about negroes and Chinese. Wait till you've been at their mercy!
"Well, I learned to do the tricks. I was not quite deformed83 enough; but they set that right with an artificial hump and made the most of this foot and arm---- And the Zambos are not critical; they're easily satisfied if only they can get hold of some live thing to torture--the fool's dress makes a good deal of difference, too.
"The only difficulty was that I was so often ill and unable to play. Sometimes, if the manager was out of temper, he would insist on my coming into the ring when I had these attacks on; and I believe the people liked those evenings best. Once, I remember, I fainted right off with the pain in the middle of the performance---- When I came to my senses again, the audience had got round me--hooting and yelling and pelting84 me with------"
"Don't! I can't hear any more! Stop, for God's sake!"
She was standing28 up with both hands over her ears. He broke off, and, looking up, saw the glitter of tears in her eyes.
"Damn it all, what an idiot I am!" he said under his breath.
She crossed the room and stood for a little while looking out of the window. When she turned round, the Gadfly was again leaning on the table and covering his eyes with one hand. He had evidently forgotten her presence, and she sat down beside him without speaking. After a long silence she said slowly:
"I want to ask you a question."
"Yes?" without moving.
"Why did you not cut your throat?"
He looked up in grave surprise. "I did not expect YOU to ask that," he said. "And what about my work? Who would have done it for me?"
"Your work---- Ah, I see! You talked just now about being a coward; well, if you have come through that and kept to your purpose, you are the very bravest man that I have ever met."
He covered his eyes again, and held her hand in a close passionate85 clasp. A silence that seemed to have no end fell around them.
Suddenly a clear and fresh soprano voice rang out from the garden below, singing a verse of a doggerel86 French song:
"Eh, Pierrot! Danse, Pierrot! Danse un peu, mon pauvre Jeannot! Vive la danse et l'allegresse! Jouissons de notre bell' jeunesse! Si moi je pleure ou moi je soupire, Si moi je fais la triste figure-- Monsieur, ce n'est que pour rire! Ha! Ha, ha, ha! Monsieur, ce n'est que pour rire!"
At the first words the Gadfly tore his hand from Gemma's and shrank away with a stifled87 groan88. She clasped both hands round his arm and pressed it firmly, as she might have pressed that of a person undergoing a surgical89 operation. When the song broke off and a chorus of laughter and applause came from the garden, he looked up with the eyes of a tortured animal.
"Yes, it is Zita," he said slowly; "with her officer friends. She tried to come in here the other night, before Riccardo came. I should have gone mad if she had touched me!"
"But she does not know," Gemma protested softly. "She cannot guess that she is hurting you."
"She is like a Creole," he answered, shuddering90. "Do you remember her face that night when we brought in the beggar-child? That is how the half-castes look when they laugh."
Another burst of laughter came from the garden. Gemma rose and opened the window. Zita, with a gold-embroidered scarf wound coquettishly round her head, was standing in the garden path, holding up a bunch of violets, for the possession of which three young cavalry91 officers appeared to be competing.
"Mme. Reni!" said Gemma.
Zita's face darkened like a thunder-cloud. "Madame?" she said, turning and raising her eyes with a defiant92 look.
"Would your friends mind speaking a little more softly? Signor Rivarez is very unwell."
The gipsy flung down her violets. "Allez-vous en!" she said, turning sharply on the astonished officers. "Vous m'embetez, messieurs!"
She went slowly out into the road. Gemma closed the window.
"They have gone away," she said, turning to him.
"Thank you. I--I am sorry to have troubled you."
"It was no trouble." He at once detected the hesitation93 in her voice.
"'But?'" he said. "That sentence was not finished, signora; there was an unspoken 'but' in the back of your mind."
"If you look into the backs of people's minds, you mustn't be offended at what you read there. It is not my affair, of course, but I cannot understand----"
"My aversion to Mme. Reni? It is only when----"
"No, your caring to live with her when you feel that aversion. It seems to me an insult to her as a woman and as----"
"A woman!" He burst out laughing harshly. "Is THAT what you call a woman? 'Madame, ce n'est que pour rire!'"
"That is not fair!" she said. "You have no right to speak of her in that way to anyone-- especially to another woman!"
He turned away, and lay with wide-open eyes, looking out of the window at the sinking sun. She lowered the blind and closed the shutters94, that he might not see it set; then sat down at the table by the other window and took up her knitting again.
"Would you like the lamp?" she asked after a moment.
He shook his head.
When it grew too dark to see, Gemma rolled up her knitting and laid it in the basket. For some time she sat with folded hands, silently watching the Gadfly's motionless figure. The dim evening light, falling on his face, seemed to soften95 away its hard, mocking, self-assertive look, and to deepen the tragic lines about the mouth. By some fanciful association of ideas her memory went vividly96 back to the stone cross which her father had set up in memory of Arthur, and to its inscription97:
"All thy waves and billows have gone over me."
An hour passed in unbroken silence. At last she rose and went softly out of the room. Coming back with a lamp, she paused for a moment, thinking that the Gadfly was asleep. As the light fell on his face he turned round.
"I have made you a cup of coffee," she said, setting clown the lamp.
"Put it down a minute. Will you come here, please."
He took both her hands in his.
"I have been thinking," he said. "You are quite right; it is an ugly tangle98 I have got my life into. But remember, a man does not meet every day a woman whom he can--love; and I--I have been in deep waters. I am afraid----"
"Afraid----"
"Of the dark. Sometimes I DARE not be alone at night. I must have something living--something solid beside me. It is the outer darkness, where shall be---- No, no! It's not that; that's a sixpenny toy hell;--it's the INNER darkness. There's no weeping or gnashing of teeth there; only silence--silence----"
His eyes dilated99. She was quite still, hardly breathing till he spoke again.
"This is all mystification to you, isn't it? You can't understand--luckily for you. What I mean is that I have a pretty fair chance of going mad if I try to live quite alone---- Don't think too hardly of me, if you can help it; I am not altogether the vicious brute100 you perhaps imagine me to be."
"I cannot try to judge for you," she answered. "I have not suffered as you have. But--I have been in rather deep water too, in another way; and I think--I am sure--that if you let the fear of anything drive you to do a really cruel or unjust or ungenerous thing, you will regret it afterwards. For the rest--if you have failed in this one thing, I know that I, in your place, should have failed altogether,--should have cursed God and died."
He still kept her hands in his.
"Tell me," he said very softly; "have you ever in your life done a really cruel thing?"
She did not answer, but her head sank down, and two great tears fell on his hand.
"Tell me!" he whispered passionately101, clasping her hands tighter. "Tell me! I have told you all my misery102."
"Yes,--once,--long ago. And I did it to the person I loved best in the world."
The hands that clasped hers were trembling violently; but they did not loosen their hold.
"He was a comrade," she went on; "and I believed a slander103 against him,--a common glaring lie that the police had invented. I struck him in the face for a traitor104; and he went away and drowned himself. Then, two days later, I found out that he had been quite innocent. Perhaps that is a worse memory than any of yours. I would cut off my right hand to undo105 what it has done."
Something swift and dangerous--something that she had not seen before,--flashed into his eyes. He bent his head down with a furtive52, sudden gesture and kissed the hand.
She drew back with a startled face. "Don't!" she cried out piteously. "Please don't ever do that again! You hurt me!"
"Do you think you didn't hurt the man you killed?"
"The man I--killed---- Ah, there is Cesare at the gate at last! I--I must go!"
. . . . .
When Martini came into the room he found the Gadfly lying alone with the untouched coffee beside him, swearing softly to himself in a languid, spiritless way, as though he got no satisfaction out of it.
牛虻恢复得很快。第二个星期的一天下午，里卡尔多发现他躺在沙发上，身上穿着一件土耳其晨衣，正与马尔蒂尼和加利聊天。他甚至说要下楼去，但是里卡尔多听到这个建议只是笑笑，问他是否想要穿过山谷步行到菲耶索尔。
“你不妨拜访一下格拉西尼夫妇，找他们散散心。”他带着挖苦的口吻，补充说道。“我相信夫人会很高兴见到你，特别是现在，这会儿你脸色苍白，看上去蛮有意思的。”
牛虻握紧双手，做出一个凄惨的姿势。
“天啊！我竟然从来也没想过这个！她会把我当成是意大利的烈士，对我大谈爱国主义。我得装出一个烈士的样子，告诉她我在一个地下土牢里被切成了碎片，然后又被胡乱地拼凑在一起。她会想知道在此期间我的确切感受。里卡尔多，你不认为她会相信吗？我拿我的印第安匕首赌你书房里的瓶装绦虫，我敢说她会全盘接受我所编造的谎话。这是一个慷慨的提议，你最好还是抓住这个机会。”
“谢谢，我不像你那样喜欢杀人的工具。”
“嗨，可是绦虫也能像匕首一样置人于死地，随时都能杀人，只是不如匕首漂亮而已。”
“我亲爱的朋友，可是我碰巧不想要匕首，我就要绦虫。马尔蒂尼，我得赶紧走了。你来照顾这个任性的病人吗？”
“只能待到三点，我和加利得去圣米尼亚托。我们回来之前，波拉夫人会到这儿来。”
“波拉夫人！”牛虻沮丧地重复了一遍。“马尔蒂尼，那可不行！不要为了我和我这个病去打扰一位女士。而且她坐哪儿？她不会愿意到这儿来的。”
“你从什么时候开始这么好讲礼节？”里卡尔多笑着问道。
“伙计，对我们大家来说波拉夫人就是护士长。她打小就照顾过病人，她比我所认识的任何一位慈善护士都强。噢，你也许是想到了格拉西尼的老婆吧！马尔蒂尼，如果她来我就不要留下医嘱了。哎呀，都已两点半了。我必须走了。”
“现在，里瓦雷兹，你还是在她来前把药吃下去吧。”加利说道。他拿着一只药瓶走到沙发跟前。
“让药见鬼去！”牛虻已经到了恢复期的过敏阶段，这个时候倾向于和护士闹别扭。“现在我已不疼了，你们为、为什么让我吞、吞下“这些可怕的东西？”
“就是因为我不想让它再发作。你不想等波拉夫人在这儿时虚脱，然后只得让她给你服鸦片吧。”
“我的好好先生，如果病要发作，那就让它发作好了。又不是牙—牙痛，你配的那些乌七八糟的东西就能把它吓跑。它们大致就跟玩具水枪一样，拿去灭火一点用也没有。话又说回来，我看非得照你的意思办不可了。”
他左手拿着杯子，那些可怕的疤痕使加利想起先前的话题。
“顺便说一下，”他问，“你怎么弄成了这样？是在打仗时落下的吗？”
“我刚才不是告诉过你们是在秘密土牢里——”
“对，这种说法是为格拉西尼夫人编造的。真的，我想你是在同巴西人打仗时落下的吧？”
“是啊，我在那里受了一点伤，然后又在那些蛮荒地区打猎，这儿一下，那儿一下。”
“噢，对了。是在进行科学探险的时候。你可以扣上衬衣的扣子，我全都弄完了。你好像在那里过着惊心动魄的生活。”
“那当然了，生活在蛮荒的国度里，免不了偶尔要冒几次险。”牛虻轻描淡写地说道，“你根本就不能指望每一次都轻松愉快。”
“可是我仍然不懂你怎么弄成了这样，除非你在冒险时遇到了野兽——比如说你左臂上的那些伤口。”
“噢，那是在猎杀美洲狮时落下的。你知道，我开了枪——”有人在房门上敲了一下。
“马尔蒂尼，屋里收拾干净了吧？是吗？那就请你开门。真的非常感谢你，夫人。我不能起来，请你原谅。”
“你当然不该起来，我又不是登门拜访。塞萨雷，我来得早了点。我以为你急着要走。”
“我可以再待上一刻钟。让我把你的披风放到另外一间屋里去。要我把篮子也拿去吗？”
“小心，这些是刚下的鸡蛋，是凯蒂今天早晨在奥利维托山买的。还有一些圣诞节的鲜花，这是送给你的，里瓦雷兹先生。我知道你喜爱鲜花。”
她坐在桌边，开始剪去鲜花的茎根，然后把它们插在一只花瓶里。
“那好，里瓦雷兹，”加利说道，“把那个猎杀美洲狮的故事给我们讲完吧，你刚开了个头。”
“啊，对了！加利刚才问我在南美的生活，夫人。我正告诉他我的左臂是怎么受的伤。那是在秘鲁。我们涉水过了一条河，准备猎杀美洲狮。当我对准那头野兽开枪时，枪没有响，火药被水弄湿了。那只美洲狮自然没等我把枪收拾好，结果就落下了这些伤疤。”
“那一定是一次愉快的经历。”
“噢，还不太坏！当然了，要想享乐就得受苦。但是总的来说，生活还是美妙的。比方说捕蛇——”
他滔滔不绝，谈起一则又一则的轶闻趣事。一会儿谈到了阿根廷战争，一会儿谈到了巴西探险，一会儿又谈到了伙同土著一起猎杀猛兽和冒险。加利就像聆听童话的小孩一样津津有味，不时地提出问题。他具有那种易受影响的拿破仑气质，喜欢一切惊心动魄的东西。琼玛从篮子里拿出针织活，默不做声地听着，同时低头忙着手中的活儿。马尔蒂尼皱起了眉头，有些坐立不安。在他看来，牛虻在讲述这些轶闻趣事时的态度既夸张又造作。在过去一个星期里，他看见牛虻能以惊人的毅力忍受肉体的痛苦。他愿意钦佩这样的人，但他还是实在不喜欢牛虻，不喜欢他所做的事情和他做事的方法。
“那一定是一种辉煌的生活！”加利叹了一声，带着纯真的妒忌。“我就纳闷你怎么就下定了决心，竟然离开了巴西。与巴西相比，其他的国家一定显得平淡无奇！”
“我认为我在秘鲁和厄瓜多尔时最快乐，”牛虻说道，“那里真是一个神奇的地方。天气当然很热，特别是在厄瓜多尔的沿海地区。谁都会觉得有点受不了。但是景色很美，简直让人想象不出。”
“我相信，”加利说道，“在一个野蛮的国家能够享受自由的生活，这比任何景色更能吸引我。置身于拥挤的城市之中，永远也体会不到个人的人性尊严。”
“是啊，”牛虻回答。“那——”
琼玛从针织活上抬起眼睛看着他。他的脸突然涨得通红，他打住了话头。接着出现了短暂的沉默。
“不会又发作了吧？”加利关切地问道。
“噢，没什么。谢谢你的镇、镇、镇静剂，我还骂、骂、骂了它一通呢。马尔蒂尼，你们这就准备走了吗？”
“是啊。走吧，加利。我们要迟到了。”
琼玛跟着他俩走出了房间，回来时端着一杯牛奶。牛奶里加了一个鸡蛋。
“请把这个喝了吧。”她说，温和之中带着威严。然后她又坐了下来，忙她的针织活。牛虻温顺地喝了下去。
在半个小时之内，两人都没有说话。然后牛虻低声说道：“波拉夫人！”
她抬起头来。他正在扯着沙发垫毯的流苏，仍旧低着头。
“你现在不相信我讲的是真话吧。”他开口说道。
“我丝毫不怀疑你讲的是假话。”她平静地回答。
“你说得很对。我一直都在讲假话。”
“你是说打仗的事吗？”
“一切。我根本就没有参加过那场战争。至于探险，我当然冒了几次险，大多数的故事都是真的，但是我并不是那样受的伤。你已经发现了一个谎言，我看不妨承认我说了许多谎言。”
“你难道不认为编造那些假话是浪费精力吗？”她问。“我倒认为根本就犯不着那样。”
“你要怎样呢？你知道你们英国有一句谚语：‘什么也别问，你就不会听到谎话。’那样愚弄别人对我来说并不是一件乐事，但是他们问我怎么成了残废，我总得回答他们。我索性编造一些美丽的谎言。你已看到加利多高兴。”
“你不愿意讲出真话来使加利感到高兴吗？”
“真话？”他把目光从手中的流苏挪开，并且抬起了头。
“你让我跟这些人讲真话吗？我宁愿先割下我的舌头！”他有些尴尬，随即脱口说道，“我还从来没有跟任何人讲过，如果你愿意听，我就告诉你吧。”
她默默地放下针织活。她感到这个强硬、神秘、并不讨人喜欢的人有着某种悲戚的可怜之处，他突然要对一个他不很了解而且显然也不喜欢的女人倾诉他的心里话。
随后是一阵长久的沉默，她抬起了头。他正把左臂支在身边的一张小桌子上，用那只残手掩住他的眼睛。她注意到他手指的神经紧张起来，手腕的伤疤在抽搐。她走到他跟前，轻轻地叫了一声他的名字。他猛然惊醒过来，并且抬起了头。
“我忘、忘了。”他结结巴巴地说道，带着歉意。“我正要、要给你讲、讲——”
“讲——那起使你走路一瘸一拐的意外事故或者别的什么。但是如果让你感到为难——”
“意外事故？噢，一顿毒打！是啊，只是一起意外事故，是被火钳打的。”
她茫然不解地凝视着他。他抬起一只略微发抖的手，往后把头发抹到脑后。他抬头望着她，微微一笑。
“你不坐下来吗？请把你的椅子挪近一些。对不起，我不能帮你挪了。真、真的，这会儿我想起了这事，如果里卡尔多当时给我治疗，他会把我这个病例当成一个宝贵的发现。他具备外科医生那种热爱骨头的劲儿，我相信我身上能够打碎的东西全都给打碎了——除了我的脖子。”
“还有你的勇气，”她轻声地插了一句，“但是你也许把它算在不能打碎的东西当中。”
他摇了摇头。“不，”他说，“我的勇气是勉强修补好的，但是那时它也被打得稀碎，就像是一只被打碎的茶杯。这是最可怕的事了。啊——对了。呃，我正要给你讲起火钳。
“那是——让我想想——差不多是十三年前的事了，当时我在利马。我告诉过你，秘鲁是一个适于居住的地方，住在那里你会感到身心愉快。但是对碰巧落难的人来说，那里就不怎么好了。可我就是这样的人。我到过阿根廷，后来又到了智利，通常是四处漂泊，忍饥挨饿。为了离开瓦尔帕莱索，我搭上运送牲口的船，在船上打杂。我在利马找不到活干，所以我去了码头——你知道，就是卡亚俄的码头——碰碰运气。呃，当然那些码头是出海的人汇集的下贱地方。过了一段时间，我在那儿的赌场里当了一个仆人。我得做饭，在弹子台上记分，为那些水手及其带来的女人端水送酒，以及诸如此类的活儿。不是非常愉快的工作，可是找到了这份工作，我仍然感到高兴。那儿至少能有饭吃，能够看到人脸，能够听到人声——凑合吧。你也许认为这不算什么。但我刚得过黄热病，独自住在破烂不堪的棚屋外间，那个情形实在让我感到恐怖。呃，有天晚上，一个喝醉酒的拉斯加人惹是生非，我被叫去把他赶走。他上岸以后把钱全都输光了，正在大发脾气。我当然得服从了。如果不干，我就会失掉那份工作，并且饿死。但是那个家伙力气要比我大两倍——我还不到二十一岁，病愈后就像只小猫一样虚弱无力。此外，他还拿着一把火钳。”
他顿了一下，偷偷瞄了她一眼，然后接着说道：“显然他是想把我一下子给整死，但是不知为什么，他还是没有把事做绝——没有把我全给敲碎了，正好让我可以苟延残喘。”
“哎，但是其他的人呢，他们不能管吗？他们全都害怕一个拉斯加人吗？”
他抬起头来，哈哈大笑。
“其他的人？那些赌徒和赌场的老板吗？噢，你不明白！我是他们的仆人——他们的财产。他们站在旁边，看得当然是津津有味。这种事情在那个地方算是一个令人捧腹的笑话。就是这么回事，如果你碰巧不是取笑的对象。”
她战栗起来。
“那么后来呢？”
“这我就说不了多少了：经历了这样的事情，其后几天一般什么也不记得。但是附近有一位轮船外科医生，好像在他们发现我没死以后，有人把他叫来了。他马马虎虎地把我缝合起来——里卡尔多好像认为这活干得太差，不过那也许是出于同行之间的妒忌吧。反正在我醒来以后，一位当地的老太太本着基督教的慈悲之心收留了我——听上去觉得奇怪，对吗？她常常缩在棚屋的角落，抽着一根黑色的烟斗，对着地上吐痰，一个人嘀嘀咕咕。可是，她心地善良，她对我说，我也许会平静地死去，不许别人打扰我。但是我心中特别矛盾，我还是选择了活下去。想要活下去可真难啊，有时我想，费了那么大的劲不大值得。反正那位老太太极有耐心，她收留了我——多长时间？——在她那间棚屋里躺了将近四个月，时不时像疯子一样胡言乱语，其余的时间又像一头凶猛的熊，火气极大。你知道，疼得要命。而且我的脾气很坏，小的时候给惯的。”
“然后呢？”
“噢，然后——反正我挺了起来，爬走了。不，不要认为我不愿接受一位穷老太婆的施舍——我已不在乎这种事情了。只是那个地方我再也待不下去了。你刚才谈到了勇气。如果当时你看到了我那副模样，你就不会这么说了！每天晚上，大约到了黄昏的时候，剧烈的病痛就会发作。一到下午，我就独自躺在那儿，望着太阳慢慢地落下去——噢，你明白不了！现在看到日落我就觉得难忍！”
一阵长久的沉默。
“呃，然后我就到处游荡，看看我能在什么地方找到活干——待在利马我会发疯的。我一直走到了库斯科，在那里——真的，我不知道为什么我给你讲起了这些陈年旧事，它们甚至都说不上有趣。”
她抬头望着他，目光深沉而又严肃。“请你不要这么说。”
她说。
他咬了咬嘴唇，又扯下了一片垫毯的流苏。
“要我往下说吗？”他在片刻之后问道。
“如果——如果你愿意的话。对你来说回忆往事恐怕是痛苦的。”
“你认为不讲出来我就忘了吗？那就更糟。但是不要以为事情的本身让我难以忘怀，忘不了的是我曾经失去过自制。”
“我——不是很明白。”
“我是说，我曾经丧失了勇气，我发现自己成了一个懦夫。”
“人的忍耐当然是有限度的。”
“对，人一旦达到这个限度，他就永远也不知道什么时候他还会达到这个限度。”
“你能不能告诉我，”她犹豫不决地问道，“你在二十岁时，怎么独自流落到了那里去的？”
“原因很简单，我的生活原有一个良好的开端，那还在原来那个国家的家中，然后我就离家跑走了。”
“为什么？”
他又哈哈大笑，笑声急促而又刺耳。
“为什么？因为我是一个自命不凡的毛头小子，我想是吧。我生在一个过于奢华的家庭，娇生惯养，以为这个世界是由粉红色的棉絮和糖衣杏仁组成的。后来在一个晴朗的日子里，我发现了某个我曾信任的人欺骗了我。嗨，你怎么吃了一惊？怎么回事？”
“没什么。请你接着往下说。”
“我发现我被人欺骗了，相信了一个谎言。当然了，这是大家都会经历的一点小事。但是我已跟你说了，我当时年轻，自命不凡，以为撒谎的人应该下地狱。所以我从家里跑走了，一头扎进南美闯荡，口袋里没有一分钱，嘴上一个西班牙语单词也不会说，而且也没有一点糊口的本事，只有白净的双手和大把花钱的习惯。结果自然是一交跌进了真正的地狱，使我不再想象虚无缥缈的地狱是个什么模样。这一交跌得太深了——等到杜普雷兹探险队过来，把我拉了出去时，正好是过了五年。”
“五年。噢，真是可怕！你没有朋友吗？”
“朋友！我——”他突然冲她恶狠狠地说道，“我从来就没有朋友！”
随后他好像对自己的冲动有点不好意思，赶紧接着往下说：“你不必把这太当真，我敢说我把那些事情描绘得一团漆黑，事实上最初的一年半并不那么糟糕。我那时年轻力壮，我一直混得相当不错，直到那个拉斯加人在我的身上留下了他的记号。但是在那以后，我就不能干活了。如果运用得当，火钳这件有用的工具倒是挺好的。没人愿意雇用一个残废。”
“你做什么工作呢？”
“能做什么就做什么。有一段时间我靠打零工为生，是为甘蔗园里的那些奴隶干活，取点什么，拿点什么，以及诸如此类的事情。可是不行，那些监工总是把我赶走。我腿瘸走不快，而且我也搬不了重东西。后来我的伤口老是发炎，要不就是得些稀奇古怪的病。
“过了一段时间我去了银矿，试图在那里找到活干。但是一无所获。矿主认为收留我这样的人简直就是笑话，至于那些矿工，他们揍起我来真下狠心。”
“为什么呢？”
“噢，我想是人类的本性吧。他们看见我只有一只手可以还击。我终于忍受不住，然后漫无目标地流浪四方。就那么瞎走呗，指望奇迹能够发生。”
“徒步吗？靠着那只瘸脚？”
他抬起了头，突然喘了一口气。那副模样怪可怜的。
“我——我当时饿着肚子啊。”他说。
她略微转过头去，用一只手托住下巴。沉默片刻之后，他又开口说话。他在说话时声音越来越低。
“呃，我走啊走啊，直到走得快让我发疯，还是什么也没有。我到了厄瓜多尔境内，那里的情况更糟。有时我补点碎铜烂铁——我是一个相当不错的补锅匠——或者帮人跑跑腿，或者打扫猪圈。有时我——噢，我根本就不知道干些什么。后来终于有一天——”
那只纤瘦、棕色的手握成了拳头，突然一拍桌子。琼玛抬起头来，关切地望着他。他的脸颊对着她，她可以看见他太阳穴上的一根血管就像一只铁锤，迅速而又不规则地敲击着。她弯腰向前，把手轻轻地放在他的胳膊上。
“别再讲下去了，这事谈起来都让人觉得可怕。”
他带着怀疑的目光凝视着那只手，摇了摇头，然后从容不迫，接着说道：“后来有一天，我遇到了一个走江湖的杂耍班子。你记得那天傍晚见到的那个杂耍班子吧。呃，跟那差不多，只是更加粗俗，更加下贱。那个杂耍班子在路旁搭起帐篷过夜，我走到他们的帐篷跟前乞讨。呃，天气很热，我饿得要命，所以——我昏倒在帐篷门口，就像一个束胸的寄宿女生。所以他们把我弄了进去，给了我白兰地，还有吃的等等。后来——第二天早晨——他们对我提出——”
又是一阵沉默。
“他们想找一个驼子，或者某个怪物，可以让孩子们对他投扔桔子皮和香蕉皮——找个让他们哈哈大笑的东西——那天晚上你看见过那个小丑——呃，那一行我干了两年。
“呃，我学会了各种把戏。我还没那么畸形，但是他们有办法，给我做了一个驼背，并且充分利用这只脚和这只胳膊——而且那里的人们并不挑剔，他们很容易就能得到满足，只要他们有个活人可以糟蹋就行——那套傻瓜装束也起到了很大的作用。
“唯一的麻烦是我经常生病，不能表演。有时，如果班主发了脾气，我的那些旧伤发作时，他也会坚持让我进场表演。
而且我相信人们最喜欢那些晚上的演出。我记得有一次，演出进行到了一半时，我疼昏过去了——在我醒来以后，那些观众围到我的身边——踢我，骂我，砸我——”
“别说了！我再也受不了啦！看在上帝的份上，别说了！”
她站了起来，双手捂住了耳朵。他打住了话头，抬头看见她眼里的泪水。
“我真该死，我真是一个白痴！”他小声说道。
她走到屋子的那头，站在那里冲窗外看了一会儿。当她转过身时，牛虻又靠在桌上，一只手蒙住眼睛。他显然已经忘记了她的存在。她一句话也没说，坐在他的身边。沉默了很长一段时间后，她才慢慢地说：“我想问你一个问题。”
“什么问题？”身体没有动弹。
“你为什么不抹脖子自杀呢？”
他抬起了头，着实吃了一惊。“我没有想到你会问我这个，”他说，“我的工作怎么办？谁为我做呢？”
“你的工作——噢，我明白了！你刚才谈到沦为一个懦夫，呃，如果你历经这样的处境仍然矢志不渝，那么你就是我所见过的最勇敢的人。”
他又捂住眼睛，热情地紧握她的手。他们仿佛陷入无边无际的寂静之中。
突然从下面花园里传来清脆的女高音，正在唱着一支拙劣的法国小曲： Eh
Danseunpeu，monpauvreJeannot!
Viveladanseetl'allegresse!
Jouissonsdenotrebell'jeunesse！
Simoijepleureoumoijesoupire
Simoijefaislatristefigure——
Monsieur
Monsieur
［法语：
喂，皮埃罗，跳舞吧，皮埃罗！
跳一跳吧，我可怜的亚诺！
尽情跳舞，尽情欢乐！
让我们共享美妙的青春！
不要哭泣，不要叹息，不要愁眉苦脸——
先生，这不是开玩笑。
哈！哈，哈，哈！先生，这不是开玩笑！］
一听到这歌声，牛虻就把他的手从琼玛的手中抽了回来，身体直往后缩，并且低声哼了一下。她用双手抓住他的胳膊，抓得紧紧的，就像是抓住一个在做外科手术的病人胳膊。歌声结束以后，从花园里传来一阵笑声和掌声。他抬起头来，那双眼睛就像是一只受尽折磨的动物的眼睛。
“对，是绮达，”他缓慢地说道，“同她那些军官朋友在一起。那天晚上，在里卡尔多进来之前，她试图到这儿来。如果她碰我一下，我会发疯的！”
“但是她并不知道，”琼玛轻声地表示抗议，“她猜不出她让你感到难受。”
从花园里又传来一阵笑声。琼玛起身打开了窗户。绮达的头上搭着一条金丝绣成的围巾，煞是妖冶。她站在花园里，手里伸出一束紫罗兰，三位年轻的骑兵军官好像正在争着要花。
“莱尼小姐！”琼玛说道。
绮达脸色一沉，就像是一块乌云。“夫人，什么事儿？”她转身说道，抬起的眼睛露出挑战的目光。
“能请你们的朋友说话小声点吗？里瓦雷兹先生身体非常不好。”
那位吉卜赛女郎扔掉了紫罗兰。“Allez—vous—en！”［法语：滚开。］她转身对那几位瞠目结舌的军官厉声说道。“Vousm’membetez，messieurs”［法语：我讨厌你们，先生们。］她缓步走出了花园。琼玛关上了窗户。
“他们已经走了。”她转身对他说。
“谢谢你。对不起，麻烦你了。”
“没什么麻烦。”他立即就从她的声音里听出她有些迟疑。
“可是为什么，”他说，“夫人，你的话没有说完。你的心里还有一个没有说出的‘可是’。”
“如果你看出了别人心里的话，你就不必为了别人心里的话而生气。这当然不关我的事，但是我无法明白——”
“我对莱尼小姐的厌恶吗？只是——”
“不，你既然厌恶她，却又愿意同她住在一起。我认为这对她是一个侮辱，不把她当女人，把她——”
“女人！”他发出一阵刺耳的笑声。“你管那叫女人？Madame，cen’estquepourrive！”［法语：夫人，这不是一个笑话。］“这不公平！”她说，“你无权对别人这样说她——特别是当着另一个女人的面！”
他转过身去，睁大眼睛躺在那里，望着窗外西沉的太阳。
她放下窗帘，关上了百叶窗，免得他看见日落。然后她在另外一扇窗户的桌旁坐了下来。重又拿起了她的针织活。
“你想点灯吗？”过了一会儿她问。
他摇了摇头。
等到光线暗了下来，看不清楚时，琼玛卷起了她的针织活，把它放进篮子里。好一会儿，她抱着双臂坐在那里，默不做声地望着牛虻动也不动的身躯。暗淡的夜色落在他的脸上，似乎缓和了严峻、嘲讽、自负的神情，并且加深了嘴角悲剧性的线条。由于勾起了一些怪诞的联想，她清晰地记起了为了纪念亚瑟，她的父亲竖立了一个石十字架，上面刻着这样的铭文：
所有的波涛巨浪全都向我袭来。
寂静之中又过一个小时。最后她站了起来，轻轻地走出了房间。她在回来时拿来了一盏灯。她顿了一会儿，以为牛虻睡着了。当灯光照到他的脸上时，他转过身来。
“我给你冲了一杯咖啡。”她说，随即放下了灯。
“先放在那儿吧，请你过来一下好吗？”
他握住她的双手。
“我一直在想，”他说，“你说得很对，我使我的生活卷进了这段纠葛，它是丑陋的。但是记住，一个男人并不是每天都能遇到他能——爱的女人，而且我——我已陷入了困境。我害怕——”
“害怕？”
“害怕黑暗。有时我不敢在夜里独处。我必须有个活的东西——某个实在的东西伴在我的身边。外部的黑暗，那是——不，不！不是这个，那是只值六个便士的地狱——我害怕的是内在的黑暗。那里没有哭泣，没有咬牙切齿。只有寂静——寂静——”
他睁大了眼睛。她十分安静，在他再次说话之前几乎没有喘气。
“这对你来说是不可思议的，对吗？你明白不了——对你来说是件幸事。我是说如果我试图独自生活，我极有可能会发疯——尽量别把我想得太坏。你也许把我想象成一个恶棍，可我并不是这样的人。”
“我无法为你作出判断，”她答道。“我没有受过你那样的苦。但是——我也陷入过困境，只是情况不同。我认为——我相信——如果你在恐惧驱使下做出一件真正残忍或者不公或者鄙吝的事情，随后你就会感到遗憾。至于别的——如果你在这件事上失败了，我知道换了我也会失败的——就该诅咒上帝，然后死去。”
他仍然握着她的手。
“告诉我！”他非常温柔地说，“你这一生曾经做过一件真正残忍的事吗？”
她没有回答，但是她低下了头，两颗大大的泪珠跌到他的手里。
“告诉我！”他带着炽热的情感小声说道，并且把她的手抓得更紧。“告诉我吧！我已经把我的痛苦全都告诉了你。”
“是的——很久——以前。而且他还是我在这个世界上最爱的人。”
握她的那双手剧烈地抖动起来，但是那双手并没有松开。
“他是我的一位朋友，”她接着说，“我听信了诽谤他的谣言——警察编造的一个弥天大谎。我以为他是一个叛徒，所以打了他一个耳光。他走开了，然后投水自杀了。后来，两天以后，我发现了他完全是无辜的。这也许比你记忆之中的事情更加让人难受。要是能够挽回已经做下的错事，我情愿切腕自杀。”
某种迅猛而危险的东西——某种她以前没有见过的东西——闪现在他的眼里。他低下了头，动作诡秘而又突然，吻了一下她的手。
她吃了一惊，赶紧抽回手。“别这样！”她叫道，声音里带着怜悯。“请你再也不要这样做！你这样会使我伤心的。”
“你认为你没有使你曾经害死的那个人伤心吗？”
“那个我曾经——害死的那个人——啊，塞萨雷在门外，他终于来了！我——我必须走了！”
当马尔蒂尼走进屋时，他发现牛虻独自躺在那里，旁边放着一杯没动过的咖啡。他小声暗自咒骂着，一副懒懒散散、无精打采的模样，仿佛他这样做并没使他得到满足。
收听单词发音 |
1
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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obstreperous
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| adj.喧闹的，不守秩序的 | |
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ailments
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| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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proprieties
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| n.礼仪，礼节；礼貌( propriety的名词复数 )；规矩；正当；合适 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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convalescence
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| n.病后康复期 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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opium
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| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
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dungeons
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| n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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puma
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| 美洲豹 | |
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wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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rectify
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| v.订正，矫正，改正 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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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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abruptness
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| n. 突然，唐突 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lameness
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| n. 跛, 瘸, 残废 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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chili
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| n.辣椒 | |
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congregate
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| v.(使)集合，聚集 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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49
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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obnoxious
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| adj.极恼人的，讨人厌的，可憎的 | |
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51
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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52
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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53
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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54
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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55
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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cub
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| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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pelt
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| v.投掷，剥皮，抨击，开火 | |
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humanitarian
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| n.人道主义者，博爱者，基督凡人论者 | |
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deformed
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| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
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pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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doggerel
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| n.拙劣的诗，打油诗 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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101
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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102
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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103
slander
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| n./v.诽谤，污蔑 | |
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104
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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105
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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