He felt better at once, but realized that he must leave Penge. He changed into the serge, packed, and was soon downstairs again with a neat little story. "The sun caught me," he told Anne, "but I'd radier a worrying letter too, and I think I'd better be in town."
"Much, much better," she cried, all sympathy.
"Yes, much better," echoed Clive, who was up from the match. "We'd hoped you'd put it right yesterday, Maurice, but we quite understand, and if you must go you must go."
And old Mrs Durham had also accrued1. There was to be a laughing open secret about this girl in town, who had almost accepted his offer of marriage but not quite. It didn't matter how ill he looked or how queerly he behaved, he was officially a lover, and they interpreted everything to their satisfaction and found him delightful2.
Clive motored him to the station, since their ways lay to-gether that far. The drive skirted the cricket field before enter-ing the woods. Scudder was fielding now, looking reckless and graceful3. He was close to them, and stamped one foot, as though summoning something. That was the final vision, and whether of a devil or a comrade Maurice had no idea. Oh, the situation was disgusting—of that he was certain, and indeed never wavered till the end of his life. But to be certain of a situation is not to be certain of a human being. Once away from
Penge he would see clearly perhaps; at all events there was Mr Lasker Jones.
"What sort of man is that keeper of yours who captained us?" he asked Clive, having tried the sentence over to himself first, to be sure it didn't sound odd.
"He's leaving this month," said Clive under the impression that he was giving a reply. Fortunately they were passing the kennels4 at that moment, and he added, "We shall miss him as regards the dogs, anyhow."
"But not in other ways?"
"I expect we shall do worse. One always does. Hard-working anyhow, and decidedly intelligent, whereas the man I've com-ing in his place—"; and, glad that Maurice should be interested he sketched5 the economy of Penge.
"Straight?" He trembled as he asked this supreme6 question.
"Scudder? A little too smart to be straight. However, Anne would say I'm being unfair. You can't expect our standard of honesty in servants, any more than you can expect loyalty7 or gratitude8."
"I could never run a job like Penge," resumed Maurice after a pause. "I should never know what type of servant to select. Take Scudder for instance. What class of home does he come from? I haven't the slightest idea."
"Wasn't his father the butcher at Osmington? Yes. I think so."
Maurice flung his hat on the floor of the car with all his force. "This is about the limit," he thought, and buried both hands in his hair.
"Head rotten again?"
Clive kept sympathetic silence, which neither broke until they parted; all the way Maurice sat crouched10 with the palms of his hands against his eyes. His whole life he had known
things but not known them—it was the great defect in his char-acter. He had known it was unsafe to return to Penge, lest some folly11 leapt out of the woods at him, yet he had returned. He had throbbed12 when Anne said, "Has she bright brown eyes?" He had known in a way it was wiser not to lean out of his bedroom window again and again into the night and call "Come!" His interior spirit was as sensitive to promptings as most men's, but he could not interpret them. Not till the crisis had come was he clear. And this tangle13, so different from Cambridge, resembled it so far that too late he could trace the entanglement14. Risley's room had its counterpart in the wild rose and the evening prim-roses of yesterday, the side-car dash through the fens15 fore-shadowed his innings at cricket.
But Cambridge had left him a hero, Penge a traitor16. He had abused his host's confidence and defiled17 his house in his ab-sence, he had insulted Mrs Durham and Anne. And when he reached home there came a worse blow; he had also sinned against his family. Hitherto they had never counted. Fools to be kind to. They were fools still, but he dare not approach them. Between those commonplace women and himself stretched a gulf18 that hallowed them. Their chatter19, their squabble about precedence, their complaints of the chauffeur20, seemed word of a greater wrong. When his mother said, "Morrie, now for a nice talk," his heart stopped. They strolled round the garden, as they had done ten years ago, and she murmured the names of vege-tables. Then he had looked up to her, now down; now he knew very well what he wanted with the garden boy. And now Kitty, always a message-bearer, rushed out of the house, and in her hand she held a telegram.
Maurice trembled with anger and fear. "Come back, waiting tonight at boathouse, Penge, Alec": a nice message to be handed in through the local post-office! Presumably one of the house-
servants had supplied his address, for the telegram was fully21 directed. A nice situation! It contained every promise of black-mail, at the best it was incredible insolence22. Of course he shouldn't answer, nor could there be any question now of giving Scudder a present. He had gone outside his class, and it served him right.
But all that night his body yearned23 for Alec's, despite him. He called it lustful24, a word easily uttered, and opposed to it his work, his family, his friends, his position in society. In that coali-tion must surely be included his will. For if the will can over-leap class, civilization as we have made it will go to pieces. But his body would not be convinced. Chance had mated it too perfectly25. Neither argument nor threat could silence it, so in the morning, feeling exhausted26 and ashamed, he telephoned to Mr Lasker Jones and made a second appointment. Before he was due to go to it a letter came. It arrived at breakfast and he read it under his mother's eyes. It was phrased as follows.
Mr Maurice. Dear Sir. I waited both nights in the boathouse. I said the boathouse as the ladder as taken away and the woods is to damp to lie down. So please come to "the boathouse" tomor-row night or next, pretend to the other gentlemen you want a stroll, easily managed, then come down to the boathouse. Dear Sir, let me share with you once before leaving Old England if it is not asking to much. I have key, will let you in. I leave per Ss Normannia Aug 29. I since cricket match do long to talk with one of my arms round you, then place both arms round you and share with you, the above now seems sweeter to me than words can say. I am perfectly aware I am only a servant that never presume on your loving kindness to take liberties or in any other way.
Yours respectfully,
A. Scudder.
(gamekeeper to C. Durham Esq.)
Maurice, was you taken ill that you left, as the indoors servants say? I hope you feel all as usual by this time. Mind and write if you
can't come, for I get no sleep waiting night after night, so come without fail to "Boathouse Penge" tomorrow night, or failing the after.
Well, what did this mean? The sentence Maurice pounced27 on to the neglect of all others was"I have the key." Yes, he had, and there was a duplicate, kept up at the house, with which an ac-complice, probably Simcox—In this light he interpreted the whole letter. His mother and aunt, the coffee he was drinking, the college cups on the sideboard, all said in their different ways, "If you go you are ruined, if you reply your letter will be used to put pressure upon you. You are in a nasty position but you have this advantage: he hasn't a scrap28 of your handwriting, and he's leaving England in ten days' time. Lie low, and hope for the best." He made a wry29 face. Butchers' sons and the rest of them may pretend to be innocent and affectionate, but they read the Police Court News, they know. ... If he heard again, he must consult a reliable solicitor30, just as he was going to Las-ker Jones for the emotional fiasco. He had been very foolish, but if he played his cards carefully for the next ten days he ought to get through.
他马上就感到好一些了，但是知道自己必须离开彭杰。他换上一身哔叽衣裤，打点好行李，很快就下了楼，并编了个巧妙的小瞎话。“我患了日射病，”他告诉安妮，“而且还收到一封使我担心的信。所以我想，最好回伦敦去。”
“可不是嘛，最好这样。”她满心同情地大声说。
“是啊，最好这样。”已经从比赛场地回来了的克莱夫随声附和道。“我们原来希望你昨天就能谈妥的，莫瑞斯。可我们完全理解，倘若你非去不可的话，你就去吧。”
德拉姆老夫人也帮腔。伦敦的这位姑娘的事已成了公开的可笑的秘密，她几乎接受了他的求婚，就还差那么一点儿。不论他看上去多么不舒服，行为何等乖张，都没关系。他是个堂堂正正的求婚者，他们怀着满意的心情来解释一切，还发现他蛮讨人喜欢。
克莱夫用汽车顺路把他送到车站。进入森林之前，乍子从板球场边上开过去。这会儿斯卡德正担任守场员，看上去大大咧咧，举止优雅。他离他们不远，抬起一只脚来用力踹，就好像在召唤什么似的。这是映在莫瑞斯眼帘里的斯卡德最后的姿态，他弄不清那究竟是魔鬼呢，还是自己亲密的同伴。啊，他的处境糟糕透了——这是千真万确的，他终生决不会屈服于这样的处境。虽然能够把处境弄清楚，人心却是不可捉摸的。一旦离开了彭杰，也许他就能够看清楚了。不管怎样，还有拉斯克·琼斯先生呢。
“你们那个看猎场的是个什么样的人啊？他还当上了队长呢。”为了绝不让克莱夫听上去感到跷蹊，他先把这句话暗自说了一遍才这么问。
“这个月他就辞工了。”克莱夫觉得这就算是他的回答了。此刻，他们刚好从养狗场前经过，他补充一句：“无论如何，我们失去了一个照料狗的人，够不方便的。”
“别的方面没什么不方便吗？”
“我预料更糟的还在后头。一年到头，麻烦不断。总之，他很勤劳，脑子绝对好使。而我打算雇来接替他的那个人呢——”他很高兴莫瑞斯对此表示关注，就把彭杰的经济情况概述了一番。
“是个正经人吗？”当他提出这个至关重要的问题时，浑身打着哆嗦。
“斯卡德吗？太聪明了些，说不上是个正经人。不过，安妮会说我这么看不公平。咱们不能拿自己对诚实的标准来衡量仆人们，忠诚啦，感激啦，也是这样。”
“我永远也管理不了彭杰这么个庄园，”莫瑞斯沉默了片刻后说，“我永远也不会知道该挑选什么类型的仆人。就以斯卡德为例吧，他出身于什么样的家庭？我全不了解。”
“他老子是奥斯敏顿的一个屠夫吧。对，我想是的。”
莫瑞斯竭尽全力将帽子往汽车的座位下一扔。“已经到极限啦。”他这么想，并将双手插到头发当中去。
“头又痛起来了吗？”
“痛得厉害。”
克莱夫怀着满腔同情，不再言语了。直到分手，双方都不曾打破沉默。一路上，莫瑞斯弯腰低头而坐，用手心捂住两眼。他这辈子，明明知道各种各样的事，却又不理解——这是他性格中的极大缺陷。他知道回彭杰是危险的，惟恐一桩荒唐事会从森林里朝他跳跃过来，然而他还是回来了。“她长着一双目光炯炯的褐色眼睛吗？”当安妮这么说的时候，他心里怦怦直跳。不知为什么，他知道不从卧室的窗口接二连三地朝黑夜探出身去，呼唤“来吧”会更聪明一些。跟绝大多数男人一样，他对任何暗示都是敏感的，然而他不能理解个中奥妙，直到危急关头才恍然大悟。这场混乱与剑桥那一场迥然不同，却又有相似的一点：当他得以把一团乱麻理出头绪的时候，业已太迟了。里斯利的房间相当于昨天的野蔷薇与月见草。乘摩托车从沼泽地带猛冲过去，预兆着他在板球场上大显身手。
但是剑桥使他成为英雄，彭杰则让他成了叛徒。他滥用了东道主的信赖，在其外出期间，玷污了其房屋，从而凌辱了德拉姆太太和安妮。当他回到自己家后，更猛烈的打击等待着他。他对家族也犯了罪。迄今他没把她们放在眼里，她们不过是必须加以体贴的傻子而已。她们依然是傻子，但他不敢靠近她们。他和这些平凡的妇女之间绵延着一道不可逾越的鸿沟，使她们变得神圣不可侵犯。她们的唠叨，关于该优先满足什么的口角，针对汽车司机发的牢骚，好像都是冲着他那档子恶行而来的。当他的母亲说“莫瑞，咱们娘儿俩好好聊一聊”的时候，他的心脏停止了跳动。他们就像十年前那样在庭园里溜达，她小声列举着蔬菜的名字。当时他得抬起头来望她，如今则低头看她。现在他非常清楚地知道了当初自己想从那个小园丁身上得到什么。吉蒂一向替他送信，这时手里拿着一封电报，从房子里跑出来。
莫瑞斯愤惧交加，浑身战栗。“回来，今晚在船库里等候。彭杰，阿列克。”通过当地的邮局发来了这么一封讨厌的电报！大概上房的一个仆人把地址告诉了他，因为电报上把地址写得很准确。多么讨厌的处境！这回对方就能随意对他进行种种敲诈勒索了，起码也是难以置信的侮辱。当然他没有必要回答，现在更不存在送给斯卡德任何礼物的问题了。他越出了自己的社会阶层，这是自食其果。
然而，当天夜里他的肉体不由自主地不断渴求着阿列克的肉体。他把这叫做“淫欲”，此词脱口而出。他以自己的工作、家庭、朋友、社会地位予之对抗。这一连串当中肯定应该包括他的意志。因为倘若意志能够无视阶级，我们所形成的文明就会被摧毁了。但是他的肉体却想不通，机缘使它遇上了最理想的伴侣，不论是极力说服还是威胁，它都不肯沉默。到了早晨，莫瑞斯感到精疲力竭，羞愧不已，于是给拉斯克·琼斯先生打了电话，再度预约复诊。他还没动身，就收到了一封信。是吃早饭的时候递给他，他在母亲的眼皮底下读的。全文如下：
莫瑞斯先生，亲爱的老爷。两个晚上我都在船库里等候。我说船库，因为梯子已被搬走了，森林里太潮湿，不能躺下来。所以请你在明天或后天晚上到“船库”来。你对其他绅士们假装说要去散步，这样好安排，然后就到船库来。亲爱的老爷，倘若我的要求不是太过分的话，就让我在离开古老的英格兰之前跟你共享一次吧。我有钥匙，会放你进去。八月二十九日，我乘诺曼尼亚号轮船起航。自从板球赛以来，我就希望伸出一只胳膊搂着你，跟你聊天。再伸出两只胳膊搂着你，与你共享。对我来说，现在这件事好像愉快得难以形容。我充分意识到自己不过是个仆人，永远也不会趁着你热情相待而钻空子，对你放肆，或有别的任何表现。
阿·斯卡德谨上
（克·德拉姆乡绅的猎场看守）莫瑞斯，你是像上房的仆人们所说的那样由于生病才走的吗？我希望这会儿你已经跟平常一样了。假若你不能来的话，别忘记写信告诉我。因为一夜夜地等待，我就没法睡觉了。所以明天晚上务必到“彭杰的船库”来。不行的话，后天晚上来。
啊，这是什么意思呢？莫瑞斯只抓住了“我有钥匙”这句话，对其他词句一概未加理睬。是的，他有钥匙。然而楼房的也得有，那么准是另配了一把喽。他必然有个同谋者，兴许是西姆科克斯——他以这个观点来解读全文。他母亲和姨妈、他正喝着的咖啡、摆在餐具柜里的一只只学院的奖杯，七嘴八舌地对他说：“你一旦去了，就断送了自己的前程。你要是回了信，它就会被用来对你施加压力。你陷入了困境，但是他手里连你写的一个纸片儿都没有。再说，不出十天他就离开英国了。潜伏起来，抱乐观的希望吧。”他皱起眉头来。屠夫的儿子及其伙伴们装出一副天真无邪、蛮有交情的样子，然而他们够熬过去的。
收听单词发音 |
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accrued
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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kennels
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| n.主人外出时的小动物寄养处，养狗场；狗窝( kennel的名词复数 )；养狗场 | |
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sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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putrid
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| adj.腐臭的；有毒的；已腐烂的；卑劣的 | |
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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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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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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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entanglement
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| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
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fens
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| n.（尤指英格兰东部的）沼泽地带( fen的名词复数 ) | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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defiled
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| v.玷污( defile的过去式和过去分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lustful
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| a.贪婪的；渴望的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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