On that same night in Madrid there were many people at the Hotel Gaylord. A car pulled up under the _porte-cochere_ of the hotel, its headlights painted over with blue calcimine and a little man in black riding boots, gray riding breeches and a short, gray high-buttoned jacket stepped out and returned the salute1 of the two sentries2 as he opened the door, nodded to the secret policeman who sat at the concierge3's desk and stepped into the elevator. There were two sentries seated on chairs inside the door, one on each side of the marble entrance hall, and these only looked up as the little man passed them at the door of the elevator. It was their business to feel every one they did not know along the flanks, under the armpits, and over the hip4 pockets to see if the person entering carried a pistol and, if he did, have him check it with the concierge. But they knew the short man in riding boots very well and they hardly looked up as he passed.
The apartment where he lived in Gaylord's was crowded as he entered. People were sitting and standing5 about and talking together as in any drawing room and the men and the women were drinking vodka, whiskey and soda6, and beer from small glasses filled from great pitchers7. Four of the men were in uniform. The others wore windbreakers or leather jackets.and three of the four women were dressed in ordinary street dresses while the fourth, who was haggardly thin and dark, wore a sort of severely8 cut militiawoman's uniform with a skirt with high boots under it.
When he came into the room, Karkov went at once to the woman in the uniform and bowed to her and shook hands. She was his wife and he said something to her in Russian that no one could hear and for a moment the insolence9 that had been in his eyes as he entered the room was gone. Then it lighted again as he saw the mahoganycolored head and the love-lazy face of the well-constructed girl who was his mistress and he strode with short, precise steps over to her and bowed and shook her hand in such a way that no one could tell it was not a mimicry10 of his greeting to his wife. His wife had not looked after him as he walked across the room. She was standing with a tall, good-looking Spanish officer and they were talking Russian now.
"Your great love is getting a little fat," Karkov was saying to the girl. "All of our heroes are fattening11 now as we approach the second year." He did not look at the man he was speaking of.
"You are so ugly you would be jealous of a toad," the girl told him cheerfully. She spoke12 in German. "Can I go with thee to the offensive tomorrow?"
"No. Nor is there one."
"Every one knows about it," the girl said. "Don't be so mysterious. Dolores is going. I will go with her or Carmen. Many people are going."
"Go with whoever will take you," Karkov said. "I will not."
Then he turned to the girl and asked seriously, "Who told thee of it? Be exact."
"Richard," she said as seriously.
Karkov shrugged13 his shoulders and left her standing.
"Karkov," a man of middle height with a gray, heavy, sagging14 face, puffed15 eye pouches16 and a pendulous17 under-lip called to him in a dyspeptic voice. "Have you heard the good news?"
Karkov went over to him and the man said, "I only have it now. Not ten minutes ago. It is wonderful. All day the fascists18 have been fighting among themselves near Segovia. They have been forced to quell19 the mutinies with automatic rifle and machine-gun fire. In the afternoon they were bombing their own troops with planes."
"Yes?" asked Karkov.
"That is true," the puffy-eyed man said. "Dolores brought the news herself. She was here with the news and was in such a state of radiant exultation20 as I have never seen. The truth of the news shone from her face. That great face--" he said happily.
"That great face," Karkov said with no tone in his voice at all.
"If you could have heard her," the puffy-eyed man said. "The news itself shone from her with a light that was not of this world. In her voice you could tell the truth of what she said. I am putting it in an article for _Izvestia_. It was one of the greatest moments of the war to me when I heard the report in that great voice where pity, compassion21 and truth are blended. Goodness and truth shine from her as from a true saint of the people. Not for nothing is she called La Pasionaria."
"Not for nothing," Karkov said in a dull voice. "You better write it for _Izvestia_ now, before you forget that last beautiful lead."
"That is a woman that is not to joke about. Not even by a cynic like you," the puffy-eyed man said. "If you could have been here to hear her and to see her face."
"That great voice," Karkov said. "That great face. Write it," he said. "Don't tell it to me. Don't waste whole paragraphs on me. Go and write it now."
"Not just now."
"I think you'd better," Karkov said and looked at him, and then looked away. The puffy-eyed man stood there a couple of minutes more holding his glass of vodka, his eyes, puffy as they were, absorbed in the beauty of what he had seen and heard and then he left the room to write it.
Karkov went over to another man of about forty-eight, who was short, chunky, jovial-looking with pale blue eyes, thinning blond hair and a gay mouth under a bristly yellow moustache. This man was in uniform. He was a divisional commander and he was a Hungarian.
"Were you here when the Dolores was here?" Karkov asked the man.
"Yes."
"What was the stuff?"
"Something about the fascists fighting among themselves. Beautiful if true."
"You hear much talk of tomorrow."
"Scandalous. All the journalists should be shot as well as most of the people in this room and certainly the intriguing22 German unmentionable of a Richard. Whoever gave that Sunday _fuggler_ command of a brigade should be shot. Perhaps you and me should be shot too. It is possible," the General laughed. "Don't suggest it though."
"That is a thing I never like to talk about," Karkov said. "That American who comes here sometimes is over there. You know the one, Jordan, who is with the _partizan_ group. He is there where this business they spoke of is supposed to happen."
"Well, he should have a report through on it tonight then," the General said. "They don't like me down there or I'd go down and find out for you. He works with Golz on this, doesn't he? You'll see Golz tomorrow."
"Early tomorrow."
"Keep out of his way until it's going well," the General said. "He hates you bastards23 as much as I do. Though he has a much better temper."
"But about this--"
"It was probably the fascists having manoeuvres," the General grinned. "Well, we'll see if Golz can manceuvre them a little. Let Golz try his hand at it. We manoeuvred them at Guadalajara."
"I hear you are travelling too," Karkov said, showing his bad teeth as he smiled. The General was suddenly angry.
"And me too. Now is the mouth on me. And on all of us always. This filthy24 sewing circle of gossip. One man who could keep his mouth shut could save the country if he believed he could."
"Your friend Prieto can keep his mouth shut."
"But he doesn't believe he can win. How can you win without belief in the people?"
"You decide that," Karkov said. "I am going to get a little sleep."
He left the smoky, gossip-filled room and went into the back bedroom and sat down on the bed and pulled his boots off. He could still hear them talking so he shut the door and opened the window. He did not bother to undress because at two o'clock he would be starting for the drive by Colmenar, Cerceda, and Navacerrada up to the front where Golz would be attacking in the morning.
同一天晚上，马德里的乐爵饭店里有很多人。一辆汽车开到坂店的停车处，前灯上涂着蓝色墙粉;车里走出一个矮小的男人，穿着黑马靴、灰马裤和一件钮扣一直扣到领子的灰色上衣。他开门时给两个哨兵还礼，向坐在门蒈桌边的一个秘密警察点点头，然后跨进电梯。大理石门厅的大门里面两边各有一把椅子,坐着两个哨兵。小个子走过他们身边来到电梯门口时,他们只抬眼望望。他们的任务是检査陌生人，捩摸身体两拥、后裤袋，着有没有人夹带手枪进来，如有带枪的就交给门瞀加以盘问。但他们很熟悉这个矮小的穿马靴的人,他走过时他们简直头都没抬。
他走进他在乐爵饭店的房间时，里面挤满了人。大家坐的坐、站的站、交谈的交谈，就象在一般客厅里‘样,男男女女都在喝伏特加、威士忌苏打和啤酒，从大酒罐倒到小玻璃杯里。其中四个男人穿着制服。其他人有的穿防风外衣，有的穿皮外套，四个女人中三个是普通装束，另一个穿着剪裁简单的女民兵制服和裙子，脚上穿髙统靴,这个黑黑的女人骨瘦如柴，卡可夫一进房间，就向那穿制脤的女人走去，向她鞠躬，跟她握手。那是他妻子，他对她说了几句谁也听不清的俄国话，他进来时那种傲慢的眼神暂时消失了。然而当他看到一个身材匀称的姑娘，他情妇的时候,那种眼神又流餺出来了。她长着赤褐色的头发，表情懶洋洋的。他迈开短小、果断的步子走到她跟前,鞠躬，握手，那样子，谁都不会弄错是在摸仿他向自己妻子打招呼的方式，他在房里走过去时，他妻子并不目送着他。她跟一个髙髙的、漂亮的西班牙军官站在一起，正用俄国话交谈着。
“你那了不起的情人有些发胖了，”卡可夫对那姑娘说。“战争快进入第二个年头了，我们的英雄们全都发胖啦。”他并不对他提到的那个男人望望。
“你丑死了，连癩蛤蟆都要忌妒。”姑娘愉快地对他说。她说的是德国话。“明夭我可以跟你去参加进攻吗？”“不。再说,也没有这回事。”
“谁都知道了，”姑娘说。“别那么神秘啦。多洛雷斯①打算去。我要跟她，或者银卡门去。很多人都要去。”
“谁愿意带你去,就跟谁去，”卡可夫说。“我可不带，“接着他转身对着她，严肃地问，“是谁告诉你的？说得明确些。”
“理查德。”她同样严肃地说。
卡可夫耸耸肩膀走幵了，由她“个人站着。
“卡可夫，”一个中等身材的男人用一种没好气的声音招呼他说,此人一张灰脸肥胖松弛，眼脸浮肿，下嘴唇耷拉着。“你听到好消息了吗，“”
①即西班牙共产党领导人伊笆 丽，多洛雷斯为她的名字
卡可夫走到他身边，那人说。”我还是刚听说的，不到十分钟。妙不可言。法西斯分子在塞哥维亚附近成天自相残杀。他们不得不用自动步枪和机关枪来镇压叛乱。他们下午用飞机轰炸自己的部队了。”“是吗，“”卡可夫问。
“不假。”那眼睑浮肿的人说。"这消息是多洛雷斯亲自带来的。她带着消息到这儿来，她容光焕发，那副高兴劲儿，我可从没见过。这消息的真实性可以从她脸上看出来。那张伟大的脸一”他快乐地说
“那张伟大的脸,”卡可夫声调平板地说。“你听到她的话就好了。”眼睑浮肿的人说。“她透露这消息时的神情是人间所无的。你从她的声音能断定她讲的是事实。我根据这个在给《消息报》写文章。当我听到这个交织着怜悯、同佾和真理的伟大声音的拫道时，觉得这是这次战争中最伟大的时刻之一。她象一个真正的人民中的圣徒，身上闪耀着善和真的光辉。人们称她为‘热情之花’①不是无缘无故的。”
“不是无缘无故的，”卡可夫声音含糊地说。“你现在就给《消息报》写吧,免得把你刚才说的美妙的导语忘了
“她不是可以拿来取笑的女人,哪怕象你那样的玩世不恭之徒也不能。”眼睑浮肿的人说。“要是你在这儿听到她的声音，着到她的表情就好了。”
“那个伟大的声音。”卡可夫说那张伟大的脸。写文章吧，”
①伊芭露丽早年用的笔名后来成为大家对她的尊称‘
他说。“别跟我说了。别跟我浪费你的大块文章了。现在就去写吧。”
“现在可不行。”
“你还是去写的好，”卡可夫望着他说，然后望着别处 这眼睑浮肿的人拿着一杯伏特加站在那儿，尽管眼睑象往常一样浮肿,伹双眼全神贯注地盯着他所看到的和听到的美妙东西，隔了几分钟，他才离开房间去写了。
卡可夫走到另一个人身边，这人约摸四十八岁，身材矮胖,喜气洋洋，长着淡蓝色的眼睛、稀疏的金发和毛茸茸的黄胡子下一张笑嘻喀的嘴。这人穿的是制服。他是个师长，匈牙利人。“多洛雷斯来这儿的时候你在吗？卡可夫问这个人,“在，“
“都扯了些什么,“
“有关法西斯分子自相残杀的消息。是真的才美哪。”“关于明天的流言很多。”
“真不象话。所有的新闻记者和这房里极大部分人都该枪毙，尤其是那个不值得一提的诡计多端的德国佬理查箱。不管是谁，让这个市井负贩当上旅长的人都该枪毙。也许你我也该枪毙。这也有可能，”这位将军大笑着说。”可是别提醒别人啊。”“我从来不愿谈那种事情，”卡可夫说。“那个有时上这儿来的美国人正在那边。你认得那个人,乔丹,他跟游击队在一起。他就在他们传说要发生情况的那个地点。”
“咦，那么今夜他该送一份有关这件事的报告来啦。”将军说。“他们不喜欢我到那儿去，要不然,我亲自去给你把情况弄弄清楚。他是跟戈尔兹干这件事的，不是吗？你明天将见到戈尔兹。”
“明天清早。”
“在事情顺利进行之前，别打扰他，”将军说。“他跟我一样讨厌你们这些杂种,虽然他的脾气好得多。”“但是关于这次一”
〃也许是因为法西斯分子在调动，”将军靄齿笑笑。”好吧，让我们瞧瞧，戈尔兹能不能调动他们一下 让戈尔兹这次露一手吧。我们在瓜达拉哈拉调动过他们啦。“
“听说你也要出门。”卡可夫微笑着说，霣出了坏牙齿。将军突然发怒了。
“我也要出门 现在入家议论到我头上来啦。我们大家一直就招人议论。这伙下流的长舌妇。一个守口如瓶的人，只要有信心,就能救得了国。”
“你的朋友普列托能守口如瓶。”“伹是他不信能胜利。①如果不相信人民，你怎能胜利？”“这由你去考虑吧。”卡可夫说。“我要去睡一会儿了，“他离开了烟雾弥漫、人们说东道西的房间，走进后面的卧室，坐在床上，脱掉靴子。他仍能听到他们在说话,于是他关上门,打开窗子。他懒得脱衣眼了，因为两点钟就要动身坐车取道科尔梅那尔、塞尔赛达和纳瓦塞拉达到前线去，早晨戈尔兹将在那儿发动进攻，
①社会党领袖鸶列托这时正在政府中任国防部长，一九三八年四月调任不管部部长。一九三九年失敗后成为西班牙流亡政府的一员，一九四七年到法国，成为西班牙社会党右霣领袖。本书故事发生的时侯他已对共和国的前途失去了倌心
收听单词发音 |
1
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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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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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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pitchers
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| 大水罐( pitcher的名词复数 ) | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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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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mimicry
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| n.（生物）拟态，模仿 | |
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fattening
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| adj.（食物）要使人发胖的v.喂肥( fatten的现在分词 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
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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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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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pouches
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| n.（放在衣袋里或连在腰带上的）小袋( pouch的名词复数 )；（袋鼠等的）育儿袋；邮袋；（某些动物贮存食物的）颊袋 | |
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pendulous
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| adj.下垂的；摆动的 | |
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fascists
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| n.法西斯主义的支持者( fascist的名词复数 ) | |
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quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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bastards
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| 私生子( bastard的名词复数 )； 坏蛋； 讨厌的事物； 麻烦事 （认为别人走运或不幸时说）家伙 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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