作者：[美] 杰克·伦敦（Jack London）
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因为爱情(外研社双语读库)试读：
Flush of Gold金光Lon McFane was a bit grumpy, what of losing his tobacco pouch, or else he might have told me, before we got to it, something about the cabin at Surprise Lake. All day, turn and turn about, we had spelled each other at going to the fore and breaking trail for the dogs. It was heavy snowshoe work, and did not tend to make a man voluble, yet Lon McFane might have found breath enough at noon, when we stopped to boil coffee, with which to tell me. But he didn't. Surprise Lake? it was Surprise Cabin to me. I had never heard of it before. I confess I was a bit tired. I had been looking for Lon to stop and make camp any time for an hour; but I had too much pride to suggest making camp or to ask him his intentions; and yet he was my man, lured at a handsome wage to mush my dogs for me and to obey my commands. I guess I was a bit grumpy myself. He said nothing, and I was resolved to ask nothing, even if we tramped on all night.
朗·麦克费恩脾气有些不好，怕是丢了烟袋，否则他本应该在我们到达瑟普赖斯湖边的小木屋之前告诉我一些有关它的事。一整天，我们轮流替换对方，走到前面为狗开路。这是穿着雪鞋进行的很费力的工作，会使人趋于寡言。但是朗·麦克费恩本来可以在中午的时候找出足够的空闲时间，然后我们停下来煮咖啡，他可以边喝边告诉我。但是他没有。瑟普赖斯湖？对我来说是“令人惊奇的小木屋”。我之前从没有听说过它。我承认我有点儿累了。我一直盼着朗随便什么时候能停下来搭帐篷，休息一小时；但是我有太多的骄傲，做不到建议他搭帐篷或者询问他的打算；可他是我雇的人，受丰厚薪水的吸引来替我驾狗拉雪橇，还要服从我的命令。我觉得自己的脾气也有些不好了。他什么都没说，我也决定什么都不问，即使我们整晚都要继续跋涉。
We came upon the cabin abruptly. For a week of trail we had met no one, and, in my mind, there had been little likelihood of meeting any one for a week to come. And yet there it was, right before my eyes, a cabin, with a dim light in the window and smoke curling up from the chimney.
我们是突然看到小木屋的。在一周的行程中，我们没有见到一个小木屋，而且在我看来，再过一周也不大可能会见到一个。但是它就在那里，就在我眼前。一个小木屋，淡淡的光从窗子里透出，烟从烟囱里袅袅升起。
"Why didn't you tell me—” I began, but was interrupted by Lon, who muttered—“你怎么没告诉我——”我刚开始说，却被朗打断了。他咕哝着：
"Surprise Lake—it lies up a small feeder half a mile on. It's only a pond.”“瑟普赖斯湖——就是沿着一条小支路走，前方半英里处。它只是一个池塘。”
"Yes, but the cabin—who lives in it?”“噢，但是这个小木屋——谁住在里面呢？”
"A woman," was the answer, and the next moment Lon had rapped on the door, and a woman's voice bade him enter.“一个女人。”朗回答道，紧接着他已经敲了门，一个女人的声音让他进去。
"Have you seen Dave recently?" she asked.“你最近见过戴夫吗？”她问道。
"Nope," Lon answered carelessly. "I've been in the other direction, down Circle City way. Dave's up Dawson way, ain't he?”“没有，”朗漫不经心地回答道，“我一直朝另一个方向，沿着环形城向下走。戴夫是沿着道森向上走，不是吗？”
The woman nodded, and Lon fell to unharnessing the dogs, while I unlashed the sled and carried the camp outfit into the cabin. The cabin was a large, one-room affair, and the woman was evidently alone in it. She pointed to the stove, where water was already boiling, and Lon set about the preparation of supper, while I opened the fish-bag and fed the dogs. I looked for Lon to introduce us, and was vexed that he did not, for they were evidently old friends.
女人点了点头，朗开始解下狗的套具，而我则解开雪橇，然后把宿营的装备搬进了小木屋。这个小木屋很宽敞，只有一个房间，显然这个女人独自住在这里。她指着火炉，上面烧着的水已经沸腾了，朗开始准备晚餐，而我则打开一袋子鱼喂狗。我盼着朗能介绍我们认识，但令我恼怒的是他没有，而他们明摆着是老朋友。
"You are Lon McFane, aren't you?”I heard her ask him. "Why, I remember you now. The last time I saw you it was on a steamboat, wasn't it? I remember...”“你是朗·麦克费恩，对吧？”我听见她问朗。“哎呀，我现在想起你来了。我们上次见面是在一艘汽船上，是吧？我记得……”
Her speech seemed suddenly to be frozen by the spectacle of dread which, I knew, from the tenor I saw mounting in her eyes, must be on her inner vision. To my astonishment, Lon was affected by her words and manner. His face showed desperate, for all his voice sounded hearty and genial, as he said—
她的话语好像突然被恐怖的场景冻结了，从我看到的她眼睛里不断增加的恐惧，我知道，那场景一定是刻在了她的内心深处。令我惊讶的是，朗竟为她的话语和举止动容了。他的脸上显示出了渴望，因为他的声音听起来热忱而亲切，他说道：
"The last time we met was at Dawson, Queen's Jubilee, or Birthday, or something—don't you remember?—the canoe races in the river, and the obstacle races down the main street?”“我们上次见面是在道森，是在女王的五十周年纪念日或是生日或是别的什么日子——你不记得了吗？——河里的那些独木舟赛，还有沿着大街的障碍赛跑？”
The terror faded out of her eyes and her whole body relaxed. "Oh, yes, I do remember," she said. "And you won one of the canoe races."
她眼神中的恐惧渐渐消失，整个身体都放松了。“噢，对，我想起来了，”她说道，“而且你赢了其中的一场独木舟赛。”
"How's Dave been makin' it lately? Strikin' it as rich as ever, I suppose?" Lon asked, with apparent irrelevance.“戴夫近来怎么样啊？我想，还是和以往一样发了大财吧？”朗问道，明显与之前的话毫不相干。
She smiled and nodded, and then, noticing that I had unlashed the bed roll, she indicated the end of the cabin where I might spread it. Her own bunk, I noticed, was made up at the opposite end.
她笑着点点头，然后，注意到我已经把铺盖卷解开了，就示意我可以到小木屋的一头去把它铺开。我注意到，她的床铺铺在小木屋的另一头。
"I thought it was Dave coming when I heard your dogs," she said.“听到你的狗叫时我还以为是戴夫回来了。”她说道。
After that she said nothing, contenting herself with watching Lon's cooking operations, and listening the while as for the sound of dogs along the trail. I lay back on the blankets and smoked and watched. Here was mystery; I could make that much out, but no more could I make out. Why in the deuce hadn't Lon given me the tip before we arrived? I looked at her face, unnoticed by her, and the longer I looked the harder it was to take my eyes away. It was a wonderfully beautiful face, unearthly, I may say, with a light in it or an expression or something "that was never on land or sea."Fear and terror had completely vanished, and it was a placidly beautiful face—if by "placid" one can characterize that intangible and occult something that I cannot say was a radiance or a light any more than I can say it was an expression.
在那之后她就没有再说一句话，自己心满意足地一边看着朗做饭的动作，一边听着沿途路过的狗的叫声。我躺靠在毛毯上，抽着烟看着。这就是神秘之处；我就能看出这么多的名堂，别的我就看不出来了。到底为什么朗在我们到达这里之前没有向我透露呢？我看着她的脸，她并没有注意到，我看她的时间越长就越难转移自己的目光。那是一张非常美的脸，可以说是超自然的美，上面泛着一种光泽，或者是带着一种表情，又或者是一种“陆上和海上都从不曾有过的”东西。害怕和恐惧完全消失了，她的脸宁静而又美丽——如果可以用“宁静”来形容那种难以捉摸而又不可思议的东西。我不能说那东西是一种光辉或光亮，正如我不能说它是一种表情。
Abruptly, as if for the first time, she became aware of my presence.
突然，似乎是第一次，她开始意识到我的存在。
"Have you seen Dave recently?" she asked me. It was on the tip of my tongue to say "Dave who?" when Lon coughed in the smoke that arose from the sizzling bacon. The bacon might have caused that cough, but I took it as a hint and left my question unasked. "No, I haven't," I answered. "I'm new in this part of the country—”“你最近见过戴夫吗？”她问我。“戴夫是谁啊？”这话刚到我嘴边，朗就在咝咝作响的熏肉冒出的烟中咳嗽了一声。熏肉有可能使他咳嗽，但我把它当成了一个暗示，于是就没有问我的问题。“没，我没见过他。”我回答道，“我刚到村子的这块地方不久——”
"But you don't mean to say," she interrupted, "that you've never heard of Dave—of Big Dave Walsh?”“但你该不会是说，”她打断道，“你从来没听说过戴夫——大人物戴夫·沃尔什吧？”
"You see," I apologised, "I'm new in the country. I've put in most of my time in the Lower Country, down Nome way.”“你知道的，”我辩解道，“我是刚到这个村子的。我大部分时间都在洛尔村，诺姆那边。”
"Tell him about Dave," she said to Lon.“给他讲讲戴夫的事。”她对朗说。
Lon seemed put out, but he began in that hearty, genial manner that I had noticed before. It seemed a shade too hearty and genial, and it irritated me.
朗好像觉得不方便，但是他以我先前注意到的那种热情友好的态度开始了讲述。那态度好像有点儿太过热情和友好，让我难受。
"Oh, Dave is a fine man," he said. "He's a man, every inch of him, and he stands six feet four in his socks. His word is as good as his bond. The man lies who ever says Dave told a lie, and that man will have to fight with me, too, as well—if there's anything left of him when Dave gets done with him. For Dave is a fighter. Oh, yes, he's a scrapper from way back. He got a grizzly with a '38 popgun. He got clawed some, but he knew what he was doin’. He went into the cave on purpose to get that grizzly. 'Fraid of nothing. Free an' easy with his money, or his last shirt an' match when out of money. Why, he drained Surprise Lake here in three weeks an' took out ninety thousand, didn't he?”She flushed and nodded her head proudly. Through his recital she had followed every word with keenest interest. "An' I must say," Lon went on, "that I was disappointed sore on not meeting Dave here to-night.”“噢，戴夫是一个好男人。”他说道，“他是个男子汉，十足的男子汉，他的净身高有六英尺四英寸。他的话就和他的契约一样有效。要是谁说戴夫撒谎，那他就是没说实话，而那个人也一定要和我再打上一架——如果他和戴夫打完后还有力气的话。因为戴夫是个斗士。噢，对，他从很久以前就是一个好打架的人。他曾用一只一八三八年的蹩脚枪抓到过一只灰熊。他被熊抓了几下，但是他清楚自己在做什么。他是故意进洞抓那只灰熊的。他什么也不怕。他花钱很自由很随意，没钱时他会卖掉自己最后一件衬衫和火柴。哎呀，他三周之内就排干了这儿的瑟普赖斯湖中的水，赚了九万美元，不是吗？”她脸上泛红，骄傲地点了点头。在朗叙述的过程中，她津津有味地听着每一个字。“而且我得说，”朗继续道，“今晚来这里没能见到戴夫让我很失望也很难过。”
Lon served supper at one end of the table of whip-sawed spruce, and we fell to eating. A howling of the dogs took the woman to the door. She opened it an inch and listened.
朗把晚饭端到桌子的一头，这张桌子是由粗木锯锯成的云杉木做的。我们开始吃起来。应着一阵狗的嚎叫，那女人走到门口。她把门打开一英寸的小缝听了听。
"Where is Dave Walsh?" I asked, in an undertone.“戴夫·沃尔什在哪里啊？”我低声问道。
"Dead," Lon answered. "In hell, maybe. I don't know. Shut up.”“死了。”朗回答道，“或许，在地狱吧。我不知道。不要说了。”
"But you just said that you expected to meet him here to-night," I challenged.“但是你刚才还说希望今晚在这里见到他呢。”我质问道。
"Oh, shut up, can't you," was Lon's reply, in the same cautious undertone.“噢，闭上你的嘴，可以吧。”这是朗的回答，他同样也谨慎地压低了声音。
The woman had closed the door and was returning, and I sat and meditated upon the fact that this man who told me to shut up received from me a salary of two hundred and fifty dollars a month and his board.
那女人已经关了门，正往回走。我坐着并且深入考虑着一个事实——这个让我闭嘴的男人从我这里得到每月二百五十美元的薪水还有他的膳食。
Lon washed the dishes, while I smoked and watched the woman. She seemed more beautiful than ever—strangely and weirdly beautiful, it is true. After looking at her steadfastly for five minutes, I was compelled to come back to the real world and to glance at Lon McFane. This enabled me to know, without discussion, that the woman, too, was real. At first I had taken her for the wife of Dave Walsh; but if Dave Walsh were dead, as Lon had said, then she could be only his widow.
朗洗餐具，而我抽着烟并注视着那女人。她看起来比之前更美了——确实，是一种奇异而神秘的美。目不转睛地看了她五分钟后，我不得已回到了现实世界，并瞥了一眼朗·麦克费恩。这让我明白，毫无疑问，那个女人，也是真实的。一开始我把她当成了戴夫·沃尔什的妻子。但如果如朗所言，戴夫·沃尔什已经死了，那她只能算是他的遗孀了。
It was early to bed, for we faced a long day on the morrow; and as Lon crawled in beside me under the blankets, I ventured a question.
我们很早便去睡觉了，因为次日我们还要面临漫长的一天。当朗钻进毛毯挨着我时，我大胆地问了一个问题。
"That woman's crazy, isn't she?”“那个女人很古怪，不是吗？”
"Crazy as a loon," he answered.“古怪得像个傻子。”他回答道。
And before I could formulate my next question, Lon McFane, I swear, was off to sleep. He always went to sleep that way—just crawled into the blankets, closed his eyes, and was off, a demure little heavy breathing rising on the air. Lon never snored.
在我能够明确地问出下一个问题之前，我确定，朗·麦克费恩已经睡着了。他总是那个样子睡着——就是钻进毛毯，闭上眼睛，然后就睡着了，空气中他庄重又带点儿沉闷的呼吸声随之而起。朗从来不打呼噜。
And in the morning it was quick breakfast, feed the dogs, load the sled, and hit the trail. We said good-bye as we pulled out, and the woman stood in the doorway and watched us off. I carried the vision of her unearthly beauty away with me, just under my eyelids, and all I had to do, any time, was to close them and see her again. The way was unbroken, Surprise Lake being far off the travelled trails, and Lon and I took turn about at beating down the feathery snow with our big, webbed shoes so that the dogs could travel. "But you said you expected to meet Dave Walsh at the cabin," trembled on the tip of my tongue a score of times. I did not utter it. I could wait until we knocked off in the middle of the day. And when the middle of the day came, we went right on, for, as Lon explained, there was a camp of moose hunters at the forks of the Teelee, and we could make there by dark. But we didn't make there by dark, for Bright, the lead-dog, broke his shoulder-blade, and we lost an hour over him before we shot him. Then, crossing a timber jam on the frozen bed of the Teelee, the sled suffered a wrenching capsize, and it was a case of make camp and repair the runner. I cooked supper and fed the dogs while Lon made the repairs, and together we got in the night's supply of ice and firewood. Then we sat on our blankets, our moccasins steaming on upended sticks before the fire, and had our evening smoke.
早上，我们很快吃完了早饭，喂了狗，装好雪橇，然后就出发了。离开时我们和那女人道别，她站在门口看着我们离开。我带着她那种超自然的美丽形象离开了，它就在我的眼皮下，无论何时，我所要做的只是闭上眼睛，就能再次看到她。这条路没人走过，瑟普赖斯湖远离那些很多人走过的小路。我和朗轮流用我们大大的网状鞋把羽毛般的雪踩下去，这样狗才能前行。“但是你说过你希望在那个小木屋里见到戴夫·沃尔什。”这句话在我的嘴边颤抖了有二十次。我并没有问出来。我可以等到我们中午休息的时候再问。可是到了中午，我们继续前进着，因为，像朗解释的那样，特俄勒俄的岔路口处有一个狩猎驼鹿的人群的露营地，我们可以在天黑之前赶到那里。但是我们在天黑之前没能赶到，因为布赖特，那只领头狗，伤了它的肩胛骨，我们在开枪射死它之前因它耽搁了一个小时。后来，在越过特俄勒俄冻了冰的河床上的一个木头障碍时，雪橇猛地翻倒了，这种情况下我们只好搭帐篷并修理滑板了。我做好晚饭，喂了狗，而朗则做修理工作，之后我们一起把当晚所需的冰块和木柴弄进帐篷。然后我们坐在毛毯上，把“莫卡辛”鞋放在倒立支起的木棍上，在火堆前烘着，并抽起了晚上的烟。
"You didn't know her?" Lon queried suddenly. I shook my head.“你不认识她？”朗突然发问道。我摇了摇头。
"You noticed the colour of her hair and eyes and her complexion, well, that's where she got her name—she was like the first warm glow of a golden sunrise. She was called Flush of Gold. Ever heard of her?”“你注意到她头发、眼睛还有面容的颜色了吧，唔，那就是她名字的由来——她就像是日出时第一缕温暖的金色光辉。她被称作金光。听说过她吗？”
Somewhere I had a confused and misty remembrance of having heard the name, yet it meant nothing to me. "Flush of Gold," I repeated; "sounds like the name of a dance-house girl.”Lon shook his head. "No, she was a good woman, at least in that sense, though she sinned greatly just the same."
我有种难以辨认的、模糊的记忆——曾在哪里听说过这个名字，但是这对我来说没什么意义。“金光，”我重复道，“听起来像是一个舞厅里的女孩的名字。”朗摇了摇头。“不，她是一个好女人，至少从那种意义上来讲，尽管她还是罪恶深重。”
"But why do you speak always of her in the past tense, as though she were dead?"“但你为什么说到她时总是要用过去式呢，好像她已经死了似的？”
"Because of the darkness on her soul that is the same as the darkness of death. The Flush of Gold that I knew, that Dawson knew, and that Forty Mile knew before that, is dead. That dumb, lunatic creature we saw last night was not Flush of Gold."“因为她灵魂中的黑暗，那和死亡的黑暗一样。我以前认识的那个金光，道森人以前认识的那个金光，以及四十里人以前认识的那个金光，已经死了。我们昨晚见到的那个愚蠢的疯子不是金光。”
"And Dave?" I queried.“那戴夫呢？”我问道。
"He built that cabin," Lon answered, "He built it for her… and for himself. He is dead. She is waiting for him there. She half believes he is not dead. But who can know the whim of a crazed mind? Maybe she wholly believes he is not dead. At any rate, she waits for him there in the cabin he built. Who would rouse the dead? Then who would rouse the living that are dead? Not I, and that is why I let on to expect to meet Dave Walsh there last night. I'll bet a stack that I'da been more surprised than she if I had met him there last night.”“他建造了那个小木屋，”朗回答道，“那是为她建造的……也是为他自己。他死了。她守在那里等他。她一半程度上相信他没有死。但是谁会知道一个疯子的怪念头呢？或许她完全相信他没有死。不管怎样，她就在他建的那个小木屋里等着他。谁能唤醒死者？而谁又能唤醒活着的半死人呢？我不能，而那就是我跟你说希望昨晚能在那里见到戴夫·沃尔什的原因。我赌二十个筹码，如果昨晚在那儿真的见到了戴夫，我肯定会比她还吃惊。”
"I do not understand," I said. "Begin at the beginning, as a white man should, and tell me the whole tale."“我不明白。”我说道，“你从开头开始讲，像白人应该做的那样，把整个故事都告诉我。”
And Lon began. "Victor Chauvet was an old Frenchman—born in the south of France. He came to California in the days of gold. He was a pioneer. He found no gold, but, instead, became a maker of bottled sunshine—in short, a grape-grower and wine-maker. Also, he followed gold excitements. That is what brought him to Alaska in the early days, and over the Chilcoot and down the Yukon long before the Carmack strike. The old town site of Ten Mile was Chauvet's. He carried the first mail into Arctic City. He staked those coal-mines on the Porcupine a dozen years ago. He grubstaked Loftus into the Nippennuck Country. Now it happened that Victor Chauvet was a good Catholic, loving two things in this world, wine and woman. Wine of all kinds he loved, but of woman, only one, and she was the mother of Marie Chauvet.”
朗开始讲述。“维克托·肖韦是个年老的法国人——出生在法国南部。他在淘金时代来到了加利福尼亚。他是个拓荒者。他没有发现黄金，但却成为了一个瓶装黄金的生产商——简言之，就是一个葡萄种植者和酿酒商。此外，他对淘金很狂热。那就是他早期来到阿拉斯加，并在卡马克矿藏大发现很久之前就越过奇尔库特，沿育空河顺流而下的原因。原来的十里镇镇址就是肖韦的。他给北极城带来了第一个邮包。十二年前他资助了那些波丘派恩河上的煤矿的开采。他向洛夫特斯提供了资金，让他到尼普恩纳克区。当时正好维克托·肖韦是一个虔诚的天主教徒，在这个世界上他只爱两样东西，酒和女人。他爱各种各样的酒，但就女人而言，他只爱一个，那就是玛丽·肖韦的母亲。”
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