作者：Guy de Maupassant 莫泊桑
格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT
"Tschah!" exclaimed old Roland suddenly, after he had remained motionless for a quarter of an hour, his eyes fixed on the water, while now and again he very slightly lifted his line sunk in the sea.“该死！”罗兰老爹突然喊了一声。过去的一刻钟，他一直一动不动地紧盯着水面，隔一会儿就轻轻地提一提那根浸在海水里的钓线。
Mme. Roland, dozing in the stern by the side of Mme. Rosemilly, who had been invited to join the fishing-party, woke up, and turning her head to look at her husband, said:
"Well, well! Gerome."
And the old fellow replied in a fury:
"They do not bite at all. I have taken nothing since noon. Only men should ever go fishing. Women always delay the start till it is too late."“它们根本不咬钩！从中午到现在，我一条都没钓到！钓鱼从来就只应该是男人们的事。女人总是拖拖拉拉，结果耽误了时机。”
His two sons, Pierre and Jean, who each held a line twisted round his forefinger, one to port and one to starboard, both began to laugh, and Jean remarked:
"You are not very polite to our guest, father."“爸爸，你对我们的客人不太有礼貌啊。”
M. Roland was abashed, and apologized.
"I beg your pardon, Mme. Rosemilly, but that is just like me. I invite ladies because I like to be with them, and then, as soon as I feel the water beneath me, I think of nothing but the fish."“对不起，罗塞米伊太太，可我就是这样的人。我邀请太太们来是因为我喜欢和她们在一起，不过，我一来到水上，心里就只有鱼了。”
Mme. Roland was now quite awake, and gazing with a softened look at the wide horizon of cliff and sea.
"You have had good sport, all the same," she murmured.“不过，你们这次也还算收获不小啦。”她小声说。
But her husband shook his head in denial, though at the same time he glanced complacently at the basket where the fish caught by the three men were still breathing spasmodically, with a low rustle of clammy scales and struggling fins, and dull, ineffectual efforts, gasping in the fatal air. Old Roland took the basket between his knees and tilted it up, making the silver heap of creatures slide to the edge that he might see those lying at the bottom, and their death-throes became more convulsive, while the strong smell of their bodies, a wholesome reek of brine, came up from the full depths of the creel. The old fisherman sniffed it eagerly, as we smell at roses, and exclaimed:
"Cristi! But they are fresh enough!" and he went on: "How many did you pull out, doctor?"“上帝啊！这些鱼真是新鲜！”他接着说，“你钓到了多少？医生？”
His eldest son, Pierre, a man of thirty, with black whiskers trimmed square like a lawyer's, his mustache and beard shaved away, replied:
"Oh, not many; three or four."“哦，不多，三四条吧。”
The father turned to the younger. "And you, Jean?" said he.
Jean, a tall fellow, much younger than his brother, fair, with a full beard, smiled and murmured:
"Much the same as Pierre—four or five."“和皮埃尔差不多——四五条吧。”
Every time they told the same fib, which delighted father Roland. He had hitched his line round a row-lock, and folding his arms he announced:
"I will never again try to fish after noon. After ten in the morning it is all over. The lazy brutes will not bite; they are taking their siesta in the sun." And he looked round at the sea on all sides, with the satisfied air of a proprietor.“我以后绝不再在下午钓鱼了。一过早上十点，就不会钓到鱼了。这些懒畜生不会再咬钩；它们都到太阳底下睡午觉去了。”他带着满足的神情环顾着四周的大海，好像他是大海的所有者似的。
He was a retired jeweller who had been led by an inordinate love of seafaring and fishing to fly from the shop as soon as he had made enough money to live in modest comfort on the interest of his savings. He retired to le Havre, bought a boat, and became an amateur skipper. His two sons, Pierre and Jean, had remained at Paris to continue their studies, and came for the holidays from time to time to share their father's amusements.
On leaving school, Pierre, the elder, five years older than Jean, had felt a vocation to various professions and had tried half a dozen in succession, but, soon disgusted with each in turn, he started afresh with new hopes. Medicine had been his last fancy, and he had set to work with so much ardour that he had just qualified after an unusually short course of study, by a special remission of time from the minister. He was enthusiastic, intelligent, fickle, but obstinate, full of Utopias and philosophical notions.
Jean, who was as fair as his brother was dark, as deliberate as his brother was vehement, as gentle as his brother was unforgiving, had quietly gone through his studies for the law and had just taken his diploma as a licentiate, at the time when Pierre had taken his in medicine. So they were now having a little rest at home, and both looked forward to settling in le Havre if they could find a satisfactory opening.
But a vague jealousy, one of those dormant jealousies which grow up between brothers or sisters and slowly ripen till they burst, on the occasion of a marriage perhaps, or of some good fortune happening to one of them, kept them on the alert in a sort of brotherly and non-aggressive animosity. They were fond of each other, it is true, but they watched each other. Pierre, five years old when Jean was born, had looked with the eyes of a little petted animal at that other little animal which had suddenly come to lie in his father's and mother's arms and to be loved and fondled by them. Jean, from his birth, had always been a pattern of sweetness, gentleness, and good temper, and Pierre had by degrees begun to chafe at ever-lastingly hearing the praises of this great lad, whose sweetness in his eyes was indolence, whose gentleness was stupidity, and whose kindliness was blindness. His parents, whose dream for their sons was some respectable and undistinguished calling, blamed him for so often changing his mind, for his fits of enthusiasm, his abortive beginnings, and all his ineffectual impulses towards generous ideas and the liberal professions.
Since he had grown to manhood they no longer said in so many words: "Look at Jean and follow his example," but every time he heard them say "Jean did this—Jean does that," he understood their meaning and the hint the words conveyed.
Their mother, an orderly person, a thrifty and rather sentimental woman of the middle class, with the soul of a soft-hearted book-keeper, was constantly quenching the little rivalries between her two big sons to which the petty events of their life constantly gave rise. Another little circumstance, too, just now disturbed her peace of mind, and she was in fear of some complications; for in the course of the winter, while her boys were finishing their studies, each in his own line, she had made the acquaintance of a neighbour, Mme. Rosemilly, the widow of a captain of a merchantman who had died at sea two years before. The young widow—quite young, only three-and-twenty—a woman of strong intellect who knew life by instinct as the free animals do, as though she had seen, gone through, understood, and weighted every conceivable contingency, and judged them with a wholesome, strict, and benevolent mind, had fallen into the habit of calling to work or chat for an hour in the evening with these friendly neighbours, who would give her a cup of tea.
Father Roland, always goaded on by his seafaring craze, would question their new friend about the departed captain; and she would talk of him, and his voyages, and his old-world tales, without hesitation, like a resigned and reasonable woman who loves life and respects death.
The two sons on their return, finding the pretty widow quite at home in the house, forthwith began to court her, less from any wish to charm her than from the desire to cut each other out.
Their mother, being practical and prudent, sincerely hoped that one of them might win the young widow, for she was rich; but then she would have liked that the other should not be grieved.
Mme. Rosemilly was fair, with blue eyes, a mass of light waving hair, fluttering at the least breath of wind, and an alert, daring, pugnacious little way with her, which did not in the least answer to the sober method of her mind.
She already seemed to like Jean best, attracted, no doubt, by an affinity of nature. This preference, however, she betrayed only by an almost imperceptible difference of voice and look and also by occasionally asking his opinion. She seemed to guess that Jean's views would support her own, while those of Pierre must inevitably be different. When she spoke of the doctor's ideas on politics, art, philosophy, or morals, she would sometimes say: "Your crotchets." Then he would look at her with the cold gleam of an accuser drawing up an indictment against women—all women, poor weak things.
Never till his sons came home had M. Roland invited her to join his fishing expeditions, nor had he ever taken his wife; for he liked to put off before daybreak, with his ally, Captain Beausire, a master mariner retired, whom he had first met on the quay at high tides and with whom he had struck up an intimacy, and the old sailor Papagris, known as Jean Bart, in whose charge the boat was left.
But one evening of the week before, Mme. Rosemilly, who had been dining with them, remarked, "It must be great fun to go out fishing." The jeweller, flattered by her interest and suddenly fired with the wish to share his favourite sport with her, and to make a convert after the manner of priests, exclaimed: "Would you like to come?"
"To be sure I should."“我当然想！”
"Yes, next Tuesday."“行啊，就下周二。”
"Are you the woman to be ready to start at five in the morning?"“你是那种早上五点就能准备好出发的女人吗？”
She exclaimed in horror:
"No, indeed: that is too much."“不，不行，那太早了。”
He was disappointed and chilled, suddenly doubting her true vocation. However, he said:
"At what hour can you be ready?"“那您几点可以出发呢？”
"No, not before. Even that is very early."“不，不能再早了。九点已经很早了。”
The old fellow hesitated; he certainly would catch nothing, for when the sun has warmed the sea the fish bite no more; but the two brothers had eagerly pressed the scheme, and organized and arranged everything there and then.
So on the following Tuesday the Pearl had dropped anchor under the white rocks of Cape Havre; they had fished till midday, then they had slept awhile, and then fished again without catching anything; and then it was that father Roland, perceiving, rather late, that all that Mme. Rosemilly really enjoyed and cared for was the sail on the sea, and seeing that his lines hung motionless, had uttered in a spirit of unreasonable annoyance, that vehement "Tschah!" which applied as much to the pathetic widow as to the creatures he could not catch.
Now he contemplated the spoil—his fish—with the joyful thrill of a miser; seeing as he looked up at the sky that the sun was getting low: "Well, boys," said he, "suppose we turn homeward."
The young men hauled in their lines, coiled them up, cleaned the hooks and stuck them into corks, and sat waiting.
Roland stood up to look out like a captain.
"No wind," said he. "You will have to pull, young 'uns."“没有风，”他说，“你们得划船了，孩子们。”
And suddenly extending one arm to the northward, he exclaimed:
"Here comes the packet from Southampton."“南安普敦的班轮来了！”
Away over the level sea, spread out like a blue sheet, vast and sheeny and shot with flame and gold, an inky cloud was visible against the rosy sky in the quarter to which he pointed, and below it they could make out the hull of the steamer, which looked tiny at such a distance. And to southward other wreaths of smoke, numbers of them, could be seen, all converging towards the Havre pier, now scarcely visible as a white streak with the lighthouse, upright, like a horn, at the end of it.
Roland asked: "Is not the Normandie due to-day?" And Jean replied:
"Give me my glass. I fancy I see her out there."“把我的望远镜给我。我想我看到它在那儿了。”
The father pulled out the copper tube, adjusted it to his eye, sought the speck, and then, delighted to have seen it, exclaimed:
"Yes, yes, there she is. I know her two funnels. Would you like to look, Mme. Rosemilly?"“是的，是的，是它。我认得出它的两根烟囱。您要不要也看看，罗塞米伊太太？”
She took the telescope and directed it towards the Atlantic horizon, without being able, however, to find the vessel, for she could distinguish nothing—nothing but blue, with a coloured halo round it, a circular rainbow—and then all manner of queer things, winking eclipses which made her feel sick.
She said as she returned the glass:
"I never could see with that thing. It used to put my husband in quite a rage; he would stand for hours at the windows watching the ships pass."“我用这东西啥也看不到。这玩意还曾让我丈夫一度着了魔。他总是在窗前一站就是几个小时，看那些来来往往的船只。”
Old Roland, much put out, retorted:
"Then it must be some defect in your eye, for my glass is a very good one."“那一定是你的眼睛有毛病，我的望远镜可是非常好的。”
Then he offered it to his wife.
"Would you like to look?"“你要不要看看？”
"No, thank you. I know before hand that I could not see through it."“不了，谢谢。我不用看就知道我是看不到的。”
Mme. Roland, a woman of eight-and-forty but who did not look it, seemed to be enjoying this excursion and this waning day more than any of the party.
Her chestnut hair was only just beginning to show streaks of white. She had a calm, reasonable face, a kind and happy way with her which it was a pleasure to see. Her son Pierre was wont to say that she knew the value of money, but this did not hinder her from enjoying the delights of dreaming. She was fond of reading, of novels, and poetry, not for their value as works of art, but for the sake of the tender melancholy mood they would induce in her. A line of poetry, often but a poor one, often a bad one, would touch the little chord, as she expressed it, and give her the sense of some mysterious desire almost realized. And she delighted in these faint emotions which brought a little flutter to her soul, otherwise as strictly kept as a ledger.
Since settling at Havre she had become perceptibly stouter, and her figure, which had been very supple and slight, had grown heavier.
This day on the sea had been delightful to her. Her husband, without being brutal, was rough with her, as a man who is the despot of his shop is apt to be rough, without anger or hatred; to such men to give an order is to swear. He controlled himself in the presence of strangers, but in private he let loose and gave himself terrible vent, though he was himself afraid of every one. She, in sheer horror of the turmoil, of scenes, of useless explanations, always gave way and never asked for anything; for a very long time she had not ventured to ask Roland to take her out in the boat. So she had joyfully hailed this opportunity, and was keenly enjoying the rare and new pleasure.
From the moment when they started she surrendered herself completely, body and soul, to the soft, gliding motion over the waves. She was not thinking; her mind was not wandering through either memories or hopes; it seemed to her as though her heart, like her body, was floating on something soft and liquid and delicious which rocked and lulled it.
When their father gave the word to return, "Come, take your places at the oars!" she smiled to see her sons, her two great boys, take off their jackets and roll up their shirt-sleeves on their bare arms.
Pierre, who was nearest to the two women, took the stroke oar, Jean the other, and they sat waiting till the skipper should say: "Give way!" For he insisted on everything being done according to strict rule.
Simultaneously, as if by a single effort, they dipped the oars, and lying back, pulling with all their might, began a struggle to display their strength. They had come out easily, under sail, but the breeze had died away, and the masculine pride of the two brothers was suddenly aroused by the prospect of measuring their powers. When they went out alone with their father they plied the oars without any steering, for Roland would be busy getting the lines ready, while he kept a lookout in the boat's course, guiding it by a sign or a word: "Easy, Jean, and you, Pierre, put your back into it." Or he would say, "Now, then, number one; come, number two—a little elbow grease." Then the one who had been dreaming pulled harder, the one who had got excited eased down, and the boat's head came round.
But to-day they meant to display their biceps. Pierre's arms were hairy, somewhat lean but sinewy; Jean's were round and white and rosy, and the knot of muscles moved under the skin.
At first Pierre had the advantage. With his teeth set, his brow knit, his legs rigid, his hands clinched on the oar, he made it bend from end to end at every stroke, and the Pearl was veering landward. Father Roland, sitting in the bows, so as to leave the stern seat to the two women, wasted his breath shouting, "Easy, number one; pull harder, number two!" Pierre pulled harder in his frenzy, and "number two" could not keep time with his wild stroke.
At last the skipper cried: "Stop her!" The two oars were lifted simultaneously, and then by his father's orders Jean pulled alone for a few minutes. But from that moment he had it all his own way; he grew eager and warmed to his work, while Pierre, out of breath and exhausted by his first vigorous spurt, was lax and panting. Four times running father Roland made them stop while the elder took breath, so as to get the boat into her right course again. Then the doctor, humiliated and fuming, his forehead dropping with sweat, his cheeks white, stammered out:
"I cannot think what has come over me; I have a stitch in my side. I started very well, but it has pulled me up."“我不知道是怎么回事，肋部突然剧痛。一开始我还划得很好，可现在我都无法动弹了。”
Jean asked: "Shall I pull alone with both oars for a time?"
"No, thanks, it will go off."“不，谢谢，我很快就会好的。”
And their mother, somewhat vexed, said:
"Why, Pierre, what rhyme or reason is there in getting into such a state. You are not a child."“我说，皮埃尔，你把自己弄成现在这样有什么意思啊。你不是个小孩子了。”
And he shrugged his shoulders and set to once more.
Mme. Rosemilly pretended not to see, not to understand, not to hear. Her fair head went back with an engaging little jerk every time the boat moved forward, making the fine wayward hairs flutter about her temples.
But father Roland presently called out:
"Look, the Prince Albert is catching us up!"“看哪，‘阿尔贝王子号’快要赶上我们了！”
They all looked round. Long and low in the water, with her two raking funnels and two yellow paddle-boxes like two round cheeks, the Southampton packet came ploughing on at full steam, crowded with passengers under open parasols. Its hurrying, noisy paddle-wheels beating up the water which fell again in foam, gave it an appearance of haste as of a courier pressed for time, and the upright stem cut through the water, throwing up two thin translucent waves which glided off along the hull.
When it had come quite near the Pearl, father Roland lifted his hat, the ladies shook their handkerchiefs, and half a dozen parasols eagerly waved on board the steamboat responded to this salute as she went on her way, leaving behind her a few broad undulations on the still and glassy surface of the sea.
There were other vessels, each with its smoky cap, coming in from every part of the horizon towards the short white jetty, which swallowed them up, one after another, like a mouth. And the fishing barks and lighter craft with broad sails and slender masts, stealing across the sky in tow of inconspicuous tugs, were coming in, faster and slower, towards the devouring ogre, who from time to time seemed to have had a surfeit, and spewed out to the open sea another fleet of steamers, brigs, schooners, and three-masted vessels with their tangled mass of rigging. The hurrying steamships flew off to the right and left over the smooth bosom of the ocean, while sailing vessels, cast off by the pilot-tugs which had hauled them out, lay motionless, dressing themselves from the main-mast to the fore-tops in canvas, white or brown, and ruddy in the setting sun.
Mme. Roland, with her eyes half-shut, murmured: "Good heavens, how beautiful the sea is!"
And Mme. Rosemilly replied with a long sigh, which, however, had no sadness in it:
"Yes, but it is sometimes very cruel, all the same."“是啊，可它有时候也是要兴风作浪的。”
"Look, there is the Normandie just going in. A big ship, isn't she?"“看，‘诺曼底号’正在进港呢。它真是个大家伙，对吧？”
Then he described the coast opposite, far, far away, on the other side of the mouth of the Seine—that mouth extended over twenty kilometres, said he. He pointed out Villerville, Trouville, Houlgate, Luc, Arromanches, the little river of Caen, and the rocks of Calvados which make the coast unsafe as far as Cherbourg. Then he enlarged on the question of the sand-banks in the Seine, which shift at every tide so that even the pilots of Quilleboeuf are at fault if they do not survey the channel every day. He bid them notice how the town of Havre divided Upper from Lower Normandy. In Lower Normandy the shore sloped down to the sea in pasture-lands, fields, and meadows. The coast of Upper Normandy, on the contrary, was steep, a high cliff, ravined, cleft and towering, forming an immense white rampart all the way to Dunkirk, while in each hollow a village or a port lay hidden: Etretat, Fecamp, Saint-Valery, Treport, Dieppe, and the rest.
The two women did not listen. Torpid with comfort and impressed by the sight of the ocean covered with vessels rushing to and fro like wild beasts about their den, they sat speechless, somewhat awed by the soothing and gorgeous sunset. Roland alone talked on without end; he was one of those whom nothing can disturb. Women, whose nerves are more sensitive, sometimes feel, without knowing why, that the sound of useless speech is as irritating as an insult.
Pierre and Jean, who had calmed down, were rowing slowly, and the Pearl was making for the harbour, a tiny thing among those huge vessels.
When they came alongside of the quay, Papagris, who was waiting there, gave his hand to the ladies to help them out, and they took the way into the town. A large crowd, the crowd which haunts the pier every day at high tide, was also drifting homeward. Mme. Roland and Mme. Rosemilly led the way, followed by the three men. As they went up the Rue de Paris they stopped now and then in front of a milliner's or a jeweller's shop, to look at a bonnet or an ornament; then after making their comments they went on again. In front of the Place Roland paused, as he did every day, to gaze at the docks full of vessels—the Bassin du Commerce, with other docks beyond, where the huge hulls lay side by side, closely packed in rows, four or five deep. And masts innumerable; along several kilometres of quays the endless masts, with their yards, poles, and rigging, gave this great gap in the heart of the town the look of a dead forest. Above this leafless forest the gulls were wheeling, and watching to pounce, like a falling stone, on any scraps flung overboard; a sailor boy, fixing a pulley to a cross-beam, looked as if he had gone up there bird's-nesting.
"Will you dine with us without any sort of ceremony, just that we may end the day together?" said Mme. Roland to her friend.“您愿意和我们一起吃晚餐吗？不用客套，这样大家就一起度过一整天了。”罗兰太太问罗塞米伊太太。
"To be sure I will, with pleasure; I accept equally without ceremony. It would be dismal to go home and be alone this evening."“当然愿意，我非常高兴，那我就不客气了。今天晚上回家一个人呆着，真是太落寞了。”
Pierre, who had heard, and who was beginning to be restless under the young woman's indifference, muttered to himself: "Well, the widow is taking root now, it would seem." For some days past he had spoken of her as "the widow." The word, harmless in itself, irritated Jean merely by the tone given to it, which to him seemed spiteful and offensive.
The three men spoke not another word till they reached the threshold of their own house. It was a narrow one, consisting of a ground-floor and two floors above, in the Rue Belle-Normande. The maid, Josephine, a girl of nineteen, a rustic servant-of-all-work at low wages, gifted to excess with the startled animal expression of a peasant, opened the door, went up stairs at her master's heels to the drawing-room, which was on the first floor, and then said:
"A gentleman called—three times."“有位先生来过三次了。”
Old Roland, who never spoke to her without shouting and swearing, cried out:
"Who do you say called, in the devil's name?"“谁来过，连个该死的名字都没有吗？”
She never winced at her master's roaring voice, and replied:
"A gentleman from the lawyer's."“是律师事务所的一位先生。”
"Why, M'sieu 'Canu—who else?"“迈卡尼律师啊——还能有谁？”
"And what did this gentleman say?"“那这位先生说了什么？”
"That M'sieu 'Canu will call in himself in the course of the evening."“他说迈卡尼先生今晚会亲自来一趟。”
Maitre Lecanu was M. Roland's lawyer, and in a way his friend, managing his business for him. For him to send word that he would call in the evening, something urgent and important must be in the wind; and the four Rolands looked at each other, disturbed by the announcement as folks of small fortune are wont to be at any intervention of a lawyer, with its suggestions of contracts, inheritance, lawsuits—all sorts of desirable or formidable contingencies. The father, after a few moments of silence, muttered:
"What on earth can it mean?"“这到底是什么意思呀？”
Mme. Rosemilly began to laugh.
"Why, a legacy, of course. I am sure of it. I bring good luck."“当然是关于遗产的事啦。我敢肯定。我会给人带来好运气的。”
But they did not expect the death of any one who might leave them anything.
Mme. Roland, who had a good memory for relationships, began to think over all their connections on her husband's side and on her own, to trace up pedigrees and the ramifications of cousin-ship.
Before even taking off her bonnet she said:
"I say, father" (she called her husband "father" at home, and sometimes "Monsieur Roland" before strangers), "tell me, do you remember who it was that Joseph Lebru married for the second time?"“我说，老爹，”（她在家称她丈夫为“老爹”，有时在外人面前叫他“罗兰先生”）“告诉我，你记得约瑟夫·勒伯吕续娶的女人是谁吗？”
"Yes—a little girl named Dumenil, a stationer's daughter."“记得，一个叫迪梅尼的小姑娘，是个文具商的女儿。”
"Had they any children?"“他们有孩子吗？”
"I should think so! four or five at least."“我想应该有的！至少有四五个吧。”
"Not from that quarter, then."“那遗产肯定不会是他那边的人给的了。”
She was quite eager already in her search; she caught at the hope of some added ease dropping from the sky. But Pierre, who was very fond of his mother, who knew her to be somewhat visionary and feared she might be disappointed, a little grieved, a little saddened if the news were bad instead of good, checked her:
"Do not get excited, mother; there is no rich American uncle. For my part, I should sooner fancy that it is about a marriage for Jean."“妈妈，别太兴奋了，我们没有富有的美国叔叔。依我看，这可能关乎让的婚事。”
Every one was surprised at the suggestion, and Jean was a little ruffled by his brother's having spoken of it before Mme. Rosemilly.
"And why for me rather than for you? The hypothesis is very disputable. You are the elder; you, therefore, would be the first to be thought of. Besides, I do not wish to marry."“为什么说是我的婚事，而不是你自己的呢？这个假想太站不住脚了。你是老大，因此考虑先结婚的应该是你。更何况，我还不想结婚。”
Pierre smiled sneeringly:
"Are you in love, then?"“那么说，你现在已经坠入爱河了？”
And the other, much put out, retorted: "Is it necessary that a man should be in love because he does not care to marry yet?"
"Ah, there you are! That 'yet' sets it right; you are waiting."“啊，说的对！那个‘还’字算是讲对了，你在等待。”
"Granted that I am waiting, if you will have it so."“就算我在等吧，随你怎么说。”
But old Roland, who had been listening and cogitating, suddenly hit upon the most probable solution.
"Bless me! what fools we are to be racking our brains. Maitre Lecanu is our very good friend; he knows that Pierre is looking out for a medical partnership and Jean for a lawyer's office, and he has found something to suit one of you."“上帝保佑！我们这样费劲心思去想这个问题真是愚蠢至极。迈特尔·勒卡尼先生是我们的好朋友，他知道皮埃尔一直在找一家医务室，而让在找一家律师事务所，他或许是为你们其中的一个找到了合适工作。”
This was so obvious and likely that every one accepted it.
"Dinner is ready," said the maid. And they all hurried off to their rooms to wash their hands before sitting down to table.“晚饭准备好了。”女佣说。于是各人都匆匆回到自己房间，洗手准备就餐。
Ten minutes later they were at dinner in the little dining-room on the ground-floor.
At first they were silent; but presently Roland began again in amazement at this lawyer's visit.
"For after all, why did he not write? Why should he have sent his clerk three times? Why is he coming himself?"“说到底，为什么他不写信给我们呢？为什么他派他事务所的人来找了我三次？为什么他现在要亲自来呢？”
Pierre thought it quite natural.
"An immediate decision is required, no doubt; and perhaps there are certain confidential conditions which it does not do to put into writing."“毫无疑问，他希望能立即得到答复，又或许他有些机密的事情要告诉我们，不太方便写在纸上。”
Still, they were all puzzled, and all four a little annoyed at having invited a stranger, who would be in the way of their discussing and deciding on what should be done.
They had just gone upstairs again when the lawyer was announced. Roland flew to meet him.
"Good evening, my dear Maitre," said he, giving his visitor the title which in France is the official prefix to the name of every lawyer.“晚上好，我亲爱的总管。”他这样尊称这位来访者。在法国，所有律师的名字前面都带有这个尊称。
Mme. Rosemilly rose.
"I am going," she said. "I am very tired."“我要走了，”她说，“我很累了。”
A faint attempt was made to detain her; but she would not consent, and went home without either of the three men offering to escort her, as they always had done.
Mme. Roland did the honours eagerly to their visitor.
"A cup of coffee, monsieur?"“要不要来杯咖啡，先生？”
"No, thank you. I have just had dinner."“不用了，谢谢。我刚吃过饭。”
"A cup of tea, then?"“那来杯茶好吗？”
"Thank you, I will accept one later. First we must attend to business."“谢谢你，我一会儿再喝吧。我们先谈谈正事。”
The deep silence which succeeded this remark was broken only by the regular ticking of the clock, and below stairs the clatter of saucepans which the girl was cleaning—too stupid even to listen at the door.
The lawyer went on:
"Did you, in Paris, know a certain M. Marechal—Leon Marechal?"
M. and Mme. Roland both exclaimed at once: "I should think so!"
"He was a friend of yours?"“他是你们的一个朋友吗？”
Roland replied: "Our best friend, monsieur, but a fanatic for Paris; never to be got away from the boulevard. He was a head clerk in the exchequer office. I have never seen him since I left the capital, and latterly we had ceased writing to each other. When people are far apart you know—”
The lawyer gravely put in:
"M. Marechal is deceased."“马雷夏尔先生去世了。”
Both man and wife responded with the little movement of pained surprise, genuine or false, but always ready, with which such news is received.
Maitre Lecanu went on:
"My colleague in Paris has just communicated to me the main item of his will, by which he makes your son Jean—Monsieur Jean Roland—his sole legatee."“我在巴黎的同事刚刚告诉我他遗嘱里的主要内容，他指定你们的儿子让·罗兰先生为他的唯一财产继承人。”
They were all too much amazed to utter a single word. Mme. Roland was the first to control her emotion and stammered out:
"Good heavens! Poor Leon—our poor friend! Dear me! Dear me! Dead!"“上帝啊！我们可怜的朋友，我们可怜的莱昂！天啊！我的天啊！他死了！”
The tears started to her eyes, a woman's silent tears, drops of grief from her very soul, which trickle down her cheeks and seem so very sad, being so clear. But Roland was thinking less of the loss than of the prospect announced. Still, he dared not at once inquire into the clauses of the will and the amount of the fortune, so to work round to these interesting facts he asked:
"And what did he die of, poor Marechal?"“可怜的马雷夏尔，他是怎么死的？”
Maitre Lecanu did not know in the least.
"All I know is," said he, "that dying without any direct heirs, he has left the whole of his fortune—about twenty thousand francs a year ($3,840) in three per cents—to your second son, whom he has known from his birth up, and judges worthy of the legacy. If M. Jean should refuse the money, it is to go to the foundling hospitals."“我只知道死者没有一个直接继承人，”他说，“他把每年两万法郎（合3，840美元）的财产加上百分之三的利息全部留给了您的小儿子。他是看着他出生长大的，觉得他应该得到这笔遗产。如果让先生拒绝接受，那么这笔遗产将转赠给孤儿院。
Old Roland could not conceal his delight and exclaimed:
"Sacristi! It is the thought of a kind heart. And if I had had no heir I would not have forgotten him; he was a true friend."“上帝啊！他真是个好心肠。要是我没有子女，我也不会忘记他的，他是个真正的朋友。”
The lawyer smiled.
"I was very glad," he said, "to announce the event to you myself. It is always a pleasure to be the bearer of good news."“能亲自通知您这件事情，我很高兴。”他说，“给人带来好消息总是一件让人高兴的事情。”
It had not struck him that this good news was that of the death of a friend, of Roland's best friend; and the old man himself had suddenly forgotten the intimacy he had but just spoken of with so much conviction.
Only Mme. Roland and her sons still looked mournful. She, indeed, was still shedding a few tears, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief, which she then pressed to her lips to smother her deep sobs.
The doctor murmured:
"He was a good fellow, very affectionate. He often invited us to dine with him—my brother and me."“他真是个好人，非常重感情。他经常邀请我们去吃饭——我弟弟和我。”
Jean, with wide-open, glittering eyes, laid his hand on his handsome fair beard, a familiar gesture with him, and drew his fingers down it to the tip of the last hairs, as if to pull it longer and thinner. Twice his lips parted to utter some decent remark, but after long meditation he could only say this:
"Yes, he was certainly fond of me. He would always embrace me when I went to see him."“是的，他的确很喜欢我。我每次去看他，他总会抱抱我。”
But his father's thoughts had set off at a gallop—galloping round this inheritance to come; nay, already in hand; this money lurking behind the door, which would walk in quite soon, to-morrow, at a word of consent.
"And there is no possible difficulty in the way?" he asked. "No lawsuit—no one to dispute it?"“会不会遇到什么麻烦？”他问，“不会有人提起诉讼——不会有人反对吗？”
Maitre Lecanu seemed quite easy.
"No; my Paris correspondent states that everything is quite clear. M. Jean has only to sign his acceptance."“没有，我巴黎的同行说一切都非常清楚。让先生只需要签字，表示他愿意接受就可以了。”
"Good. Then—then the fortune is quite clear?"“好极了。那么，那财产帐目清楚吗？”
"All the necessary formalities have been gone through?"“所有需要办理的手续都办完了吗？”
Suddenly the old jeweller had an impulse of shame—obscure, instinctive, and fleeting; shame of his eagerness to be informed, and he added:
"You understand that I ask all these questions immediately so as to save my son unpleasant consequences which he might not foresee. Sometimes there are debts, embarrassing liabilities, what not! And a legatee finds himself in an inextricable thorn-bush. After all, I am not the heir—but I think first of the little 'un."“您知道我之所以要立即问您所有这些问题，是为了不让儿子碰上一些他也许预料不到的麻烦。有时候，会有些债务、让人为难的义务等等诸如此类的事情！遗产受赠人总会陷进摆脱不了的荆棘丛中。总之，我虽然不是遗产继承人，可我总得先为小家伙们着想。”
They were accustomed to speak of Jean among themselves as the "little one," though he was much bigger than Pierre.
Suddenly Mme. Roland seemed to wake from a dream, to recall some remote fact, a thing almost forgotten that she had heard long ago, and of which she was not altogether sure. She inquired doubtingly:
"Were you not saying that our poor friend Marechal had left his fortune to my little Jean?"“您是不是说我们可怜的朋友马雷夏尔把他的财产留给了我亲爱的让？”
And she went on simply:
"I am much pleased to hear it; it proves that he was attached to us."“我为此感到很高兴，这证明他很爱我们。”
Roland had risen.
"And would you wish, my dear sir, that my son should at once sign his acceptance?"“亲爱的先生，您是不是需要我儿子马上签字表示他愿意接受？”
"No—no, M. Roland. To-morrow, at my office to-morrow, at two o'clock, if that suits you."“不，不，罗兰先生。明天，明天下午两点，在我的事务所，如果你们方便的话。”
"Yes, to be sure—yes, indeed. I should think so."“行，行，当然方便。我就是这样想的。”
Then Mme. Roland, who had also risen and who was smiling after her tears, went up to the lawyer, and laying her hand on the back of his chair while she looked at him with the pathetic eyes of a grateful mother, she said:
"And now for that cup of tea, Monsieur Lecanu?"“那么，现在喝杯茶吧，勒卡尼先生？”
"Now I will accept it with pleasure, madame."“现在我想喝了，夫人，非常乐意。”
The maid, on being summoned, brought in first some dry biscuits in deep tin boxes, those crisp, insipid English cakes which seem to have been made for a parrot's beak, and soldered into metal cases for a voyage round the world. Next she fetched some little gray linen doilies, folded square, those tea-napkins which in thrifty families never get washed. A third time she came in with the sugar-basin and cups; then she departed to heat the water. They sat waiting.
No one could talk; they had too much to think about and nothing to say. Mme. Roland alone attempted a few commonplace remarks. She gave an account of the fishing excursion, and sang the praises of the Pearl and of Mme. Rosemilly.
"Charming, charming!" the lawyer said again and again.“有趣，真有意思！”律师重复地说。
Roland, leaning against the marble mantel-shelf as if it were winter and the fire burning, with his hands in his pockets and his lips puckered for a whistle, could not keep still, tortured by the invincible desire to give vent to his delight. The two brothers, in two arm-chairs that matched, one on each side of the centre-table, stared in front of them, in similar attitudes full of dissimilar expressions.
At last the tea appeared. The lawyer took a cup, sugared it, and drank it, after having crumbled into it a little cake which was too hard to crunch. Then he rose, shook hands, and departed.
"Then it is understood," repeated Roland. "To-morrow, at your place, at two?"“就这么说定了，”罗兰重复了一遍，“明天下午两点在您那里见。”
"Quite so. To-morrow, at two."“好的。明天下午两点见。”
Jean had not spoken a word.
When their guest had gone, silence fell again till father Roland clapped his two hands on his younger son's shoulders, crying:
"Well, you devilish lucky dog! You don't embrace me!"“嘿，该死的走运鬼！怎么还不抱抱我！”
Then Jean smiled. He embraced his father, saying:
"It had not struck me as indispensable."“我没觉得一定要抱你啊。”
The old man was beside himself with glee. He walked about the room, strummed on the furniture with his clumsy nails, turned about on his heels, and kept saying:
"What luck! What luck! Now, that is really what I call luck!"“多好的运气！多好的运气啊！看吧，这才是我说的好运气！”
"Then you used to know this Marechal well?"“那么您过去和这位马雷夏尔很熟是吗？”
And his father replied:
"I believe! Why, he used to spend every evening at our house. Surely you remember he used to fetch you from school on half-holidays, and often took you back again after dinner. Why, the very day when Jean was born it was he who went for the doctor. He had been breakfasting with us when your mother was taken ill. Of course we knew at once what it meant, and he set off post-haste. In his hurry he took my hat instead of his own. I remember that because we had a good laugh over it afterward. It is very likely that he may have thought of that when he was dying, and as he had no heir he may have said to himself: 'I remember helping to bring that youngster into the world, so I will leave him my savings.'”“那还用说！他以前每晚都来我们家。你肯定也记得，每逢放半天假的时候，他总是去学校接你，还经常在吃过晚饭后送你回学校。噢，还有，让出生的那天，是他去请的医生。你妈妈临产觉得难受的时候，他正和我们一起吃早饭。我们当然马上就知道这意味着什么，他便飞也似的跑去请了医生。忙乱中他还错戴了我的帽子。我记得这件事是因为事后我们为此还笑痛了肚皮。很可能他在临终时也想起了这些小事，又因为他没有任何继承人，他就思量着：‘我记得那小家伙出生时我也出了一把力的，我要把我的财产留给他。’”
Mme. Roland, sunk in a deep chair, seemed lost in reminiscences once more. She murmured, as though she were thinking aloud:
"Ah, he was a good friend, very devoted, very faithful, a rare soul in these days."“啊，他真是个好人，热情诚恳，在这个年代，这样的人可真不多见啊。”
Jean got up.
"I shall go out for a little walk," he said.“我要出去散会儿步。”他说。
His father was surprised and tried to keep him; they had much to talk about, plans to be made, decisions to be formed. But the young man insisted, declaring that he had an engagement. Besides, there would be time enough for settling everything before he came into possession of his inheritance. So he went away, for he wished to be alone to reflect. Pierre, on his part, said that he too was going out, and after a few minutes followed his brother.
As soon as he was alone with his wife, father Roland took her in his arms, kissed her a dozen times on each cheek, and, replying to a reproach she had often brought against him, said:
"You see, my dearest, that it would have been no good to stay any longer in Paris and work for the children till I dropped, instead of coming here to recruit my health, since fortune drops on us from the skies.“瞧瞧，亲爱的，要是我们那时继续呆在巴黎为孩子们操劳，真是毫无益处，反倒是迁到这里来以后，我的健康也好转了，还得到了天降的横财呢。”
She was quite serious.
"It drops from the skies on Jean," she said. "But Pierre?"“发横财的是让，”她说，“可皮埃尔呢？”
"Pierre? But he is a doctor; he will make plenty of money; besides, his brother will surely do something for him."“皮埃尔？他可是个医生啊，他能赚大钱的。而且他弟弟也会帮他忙的。”
"No, he would not take it. Besides, this legacy is for Jean, only for Jean. Pierre will find himself at a great disadvantage."“不，他不会接受的。况且这遗产是给让一个人的，他一个人的。皮埃尔会发现自己处境很糟的。”
The old fellow seemed perplexed: "Well, then, we will leave him rather more in our will."
"No; that again would not be quite just."“不行，这样做也不怎么公平。”
"Drat it all!" he exclaimed. "What do you want me to do in the matter? You always hit on a whole heap of disagreeable ideas. You must spoil all my pleasures. Well, I am going to bed. Good-night. All the same, I call it good luck, jolly good luck!"‘‘见鬼去吧！”他嚷道，“你叫我怎么办呢？你总是找一堆理由来反对我的意见。你总让我扫兴。算了，我睡觉去了。晚安。不管怎样，这就是运气，真是太走运了！”
And he went off, delighted in spite of everything, and without a word of regret for the friend so generous in his death.
Mme. Roland sat thinking again in front of the lamp which was burning out.
As soon as he got out, Pierre made his way to the Rue de Paris, the high-street of Havre, brightly lighted up, lively and noisy. The rather sharp air of the seacoast kissed his face, and he walked slowly, his stick under his arm and his hands behind his back. He was ill at ease, oppressed, out of heart, as one is after hearing unpleasant tidings. He was not distressed by any definite thought, and he would have been puzzled to account, on the spur of the moment, for this dejection of spirit and heaviness of limb. He was hurt somewhere, without knowing where; somewhere within him there was a pin-point of pain—one of those almost imperceptible wounds which we cannot lay a finger on, but which incommode us, tire us, depress us, irritate us—a slight and occult pang, as it were a small seed of distress.
When he reached the square in front of the theatre, he was attracted by the lights in the Cafe Tortoni, and slowly bent his steps to the dazzling facade; but just as he was going in he reflected that he would meet friends there and acquaintances—people he would be obliged to talk to; and fierce repugnance surged up in him for this commonplace good-fellowship over coffee cups and liqueur glasses. So, retracing his steps, he went back to the high-street leading to the harbour.
"Where shall I go?" he asked himself, trying to think of a spot he liked which would agree with his frame of mind. He could not think of one, for being alone made him feel fractious, yet he could not bear to meet any one. As he came out on the Grand Quay he hesitated once more; then he turned towards the pier; he had chosen solitude.“我该去哪儿呢？”他自言自语，努力在脑海里搜索一个能符合他心境的地方。他想不起一个这样的地方，因为独处让他感到很焦躁，而他又无法忍受见到任何人。走到大码头时，他又犹豫了一会儿，然后，他朝着海堤走去，选择一个人静一静。
Going close by a bench on the breakwater he sat down, tired already of walking and out of humour with his stroll before he had taken it.
He said to himself: "What is the matter with me this evening?" And he began to search in his memory for what vexation had crossed him, as we question a sick man to discover the cause of his fever.
His mind was at once irritable and sober; he got excited, then he reasoned, approving or blaming his impulses; but in time primitive nature at last proved the stronger; the sensitive man always had the upper hand over the intellectual man. So he tried to discover what had induced this irascible mood, this craving to be moving without wanting anything, this desire to meet some one for the sake of differing from him, and at the same time this aversion for the people he might see and the things they might say to him.
And then he put the question to himself, "Can it be Jean's inheritance?"
Yes, it was certainly possible. When the lawyer had announced the news he had felt his heart beat a little faster. For, indeed, one is not always master of one's self; there are sudden and pertinacious emotions against which a man struggles in vain.
He fell into meditation on the physiological problem of the impression produced on the instinctive element in man, and giving rise to a current of painful or pleasurable sensations diametrically opposed to those which the thinking man desires, aims at, and regards as right and wholesome, when he has risen superior to himself by the cultivation of his intellect. He tried to picture to himself the frame of mind of a son who had inherited a vast fortune, and who, thanks to that wealth, may now know many long-wished-for delights, which the avarice of his father had prohibited—a father, nevertheless, beloved and regretted.
He got up and walked on to the end of the pier. He felt better, and glad to have understood, to have detected himself, to have unmasked the other which lurks in us.
"Then I was jealous of Jean," thought he. "That is really vilely mean. And I am sure of it now, for the first idea which came into my head was that he would marry Mme. Rosemilly. And yet I am not in love myself with that priggish little goose, who is just the woman to disgust a man with good sense and good conduct. So it is the most gratuitous jealousy, the very essence of jealousy, which is merely because it is! I must keep an eye on that!"“这么说，我是在嫉妒让，”他想，“这念头真是太可耻了。现在我可以肯定这一点，因为我首先想到的就是他将和罗塞米伊太太结婚。不过，我并不喜欢那个自以为是的小傻瓜，她正是那种通情达理、品行端正的男人所厌恶的女人。因此，这就是一种完全没来由的嫉妒，不折不扣的嫉妒，为了嫉妒而嫉妒的嫉妒！我一定得当心此事啊！”
By this time he was in front of the flag-staff, whence the depth of water in the harbour is signalled, and he struck a match to read the list of vessels signalled in the roadstead and coming in with the next high tide. Ships were due from Brazil, from La Plata, from Chili and Japan, two Danish brigs, a Norwegian schooner, and a Turkish steamship—which startled Pierre as much as if it had read a Swiss steamship; and in a whimsical vision he pictured a great vessel crowded with men in turbans climbing the shrouds in loose trousers.
"How absurd!" thought he. "But the Turks are a maritime people, too."“真是荒谬！”他想道。“不过土耳其人本来就是个航海的民族。”
A few steps further on he stopped again, looking out at the roads. On the right, above Sainte-Adresse, the two electric lights of Cape la Heve, like monstrous twin Cyclops, shot their long and powerful beams across the sea. Starting from two neighbouring centres, the two parallel shafts of light, like the colossal tails of two comets, fell in a straight and endless slope from the top of the cliff to the uttermost horizon. Then, on the two piers, two more lights, the children of these giants, marked the entrance to the harbour; and far away on the other side of the Seine others were in sight, many others, steady or winking, flashing or revolving, opening and shutting like eyes—the eyes of the ports—yellow, red, and green, watching the night-wrapped sea covered with ships; the living eyes of the hospitable shore saying, merely by the mechanical and regular movement of their eye-lids: "I am here. I am Trouville; I am Honfleur; I am the Andemer River." And high above all the rest, so high that from this distance it might be taken for a planet, the airy lighthouse of Etouville showed the way to Rouen across the sand banks at the mouth of the great river.
Out on the deep water, the limitless water, darker than the sky, stars seemed to have fallen here and there. They twinkled in the night haze, small, close to shore or far away—white, red, and green, too. Most of them were motionless; some, however, seemed to be scudding onward. These were the lights of the ships at anchor or moving about in search of moorings.
Just at this moment the moon rose behind the town; and it, too, looked like some huge, divine pharos lighted up in the heavens to guide the countless fleet of stars in the sky. Pierre murmured, almost speaking aloud: "Look at that! And we let our bile rise for twopence!"
On a sudden, close to him, in the wide, dark ditch between the two piers, a shadow stole up, a large shadow of fantastic shape. Leaning over the granite parapet, he saw that a fishing-boat had glided in, without the sound of a voice or the splash of a ripple, or the plunge of an oar, softly borne in by its broad, tawny sail spread to the breeze from the open sea.
He thought to himself: "If one could but live on board that boat, what peace it would be—perhaps!"
And then again a few steps beyond, he saw a man sitting at the very end of the breakwater.
A dreamer, a lover, a sage—a happy or a desperate man? Who was it? He went forward, curious to see the face of this lonely individual, and he recognised his brother.
"What, is it you, Jean?"“啊，是你吗，让？”
"Pierre! You! What has brought you here?"“皮埃尔！是你啊！你怎么到这里来了啊？”
"I came out to get some fresh air. And you?"“我出来透透气。你呢？”
Jean began to laugh.
"I too came out for fresh air." And Pierre sat down by his brother's side.“我也是出来透透气。”于是皮埃尔挨着弟弟坐下了。
"Oh, yes, lovely."“哦，是啊，挺美的。”
He understood from the tone of voice that Jean had not looked at anything. He went on:
"For my part, whenever I come here I am seized with a wild desire to be off with all those boats, to the north or the south. Only to think that all those little sparks out there have just come from the uttermost ends of the earth, from the lands of great flowers and beautiful olive or copper coloured girls, the lands of humming-birds, of elephants, of roaming lions, of negro kings, from all the lands which are like fairy—tales to us who no longer believe in the White Cat or the Sleeping Beauty. It would be awfully jolly to be able to treat one's self to an excursion out there; but, then, it would cost a great deal of money, no end—”“而我，我每次来这儿，都有种疯狂的念头，想随着这些船去走南闯北。想想看，那些点点星火都是来自于天涯海角，来自开满了鲜花和美丽橄榄枝的国度或是有古铜色美女的国家，来自有蜂鸟、大象，有漫步的狮子和黑人国王的国家，来自那些我们以为是童话的国家——我们已经不再相信像《白猫》或《睡美人》那样的故事了。要是能去那样的地方旅行，那真美妙极了。可是，这得花上一大笔钱，无休无止——”
He broke off abruptly, remembering that his brother had that money now; and released from care, released from labouring for his daily bread, free, unfettered, happy, and light-hearted, he might go whither he listed, to find the fair-haired Swedes or the brown damsels of Havana. And then one of those involuntary flashes which were common with him, so sudden and swift that he could neither anticipate them, nor stop them, nor qualify them, communicated, as it seemed to him, from some second, independent, and violent soul, shot through his brain.
"Bah! He is too great a simpleton; he will marry that little Rosemilly." He was standing up now. "I will leave you to dream of the future. I want to be moving." He grasped his brother's hand and added in a heavy tone:“呸！他头脑太简单了，他会去娶那个小寡妇罗塞米伊的。”他站起身来。“你自己在这里梦想未来吧。我想走走。”他握了握他兄弟的手，用一种非常严肃的语气补充道：
"Well, my dear old boy, you are a rich man. I am very glad to have come upon you this evening to tell you how pleased I am about it, how truly I congratulate you, and how much I care for you."“好吧，我亲爱的弟弟，你现在有钱了。我非常高兴今晚能遇到你，告诉你我对这事感到多么高兴，我是多么为你庆幸，我是多么爱你。”
Jean, tender and soft-hearted, was deeply touched.
"Thank you, my good brother—thank you!" he stammered.“谢谢你，我的好哥哥，谢谢你！”他结结巴巴地说。
And Pierre turned away with his slow step, his stick under his arm, and his hands behind his back.
Back in the town again, he once more wondered what he should do, being disappointed of his walk and deprived of the company of the sea by his brother's presence. He had an inspiration. "I will go and take a glass of liqueur with old Marowsko," and he went off towards the quarter of the town known as Ingouville.
He had known old Marowsko—le pere Marowsko, he called him—in the hospitals in Paris. He was a Pole, an old refugee, it was said, who had gone through terrible things out there, and who had come to ply his calling as a chemist and druggist in France after passing a fresh examination. Nothing was known of his early life, and all sorts of legends had been current among the indoor and outdoor patients and afterward among his neighbours. This reputation as a terrible conspirator, a nihilist, a regicide, a patriot ready for anything and everything, who had escaped death by a miracle, had bewitched Pierre Roland's lively and bold imagination; he had made friends with the old Pole, without, however, having ever extracted from him any revelation as to his former career. It was owing to the young doctor that this worthy had come to settle at Havre, counting on the large custom which the rising practitioner would secure him. Meanwhile he lived very poorly in his little shop, selling medicines to the small tradesmen and workmen in his part of the town.
Pierre often went to see him and chat with him for an hour after dinner, for he liked Marowsko's calm look and rare speech, and attributed great depth to his long spells of silence.
A simple gas-burner was alight over the counter crowded with phials. Those in the window were not lighted, from motives of economy. Behind the counter, sitting on a chair with his legs stretched out and crossed, an old man, quite bald, with a large beak of a nose which, as a prolongation of his hairless forehead, gave him a melancholy likeness to a parrot, was sleeping soundly, his chin resting on his breast. He woke at the sound of the shop-bell, and recognising the doctor, came forward to meet him, holding out both hands.
His black frock-coat, streaked with stains of acids and sirups, was much too wide for his lean little person, and looked like a shabby old cassock; and the man spoke with a strong Polish accent which gave the childlike character to his thin voice, the lisping note and intonations of a young thing learning to speak.
Pierre sat down, and Marowsko asked him: "What news, dear doctor?"
"None. Everything as usual, everywhere."“没有。一切都是老样子，哪儿都一样。”
"You do not look very gay this evening."“今天晚上您看上去好像不高兴。”
"I am not often gay."“不高兴对我来说是常事儿。”
"Come, come, you must shake that off. Will you try a glass of liqueur?"“得啦，得啦，抛开你那些烦恼吧。来杯酒如何？”
"Yes, I do not mind."“好，来一杯吧。”
"Then I will give you something new to try. For these two months I have been trying to extract something from currants, of which only a sirup has been made hitherto—well, and I have done it. I have invented a very good liqueur—very good indeed; very good."“那我就给你来种新口味的酒尝尝。最近两个月我一直在想办法从醋栗里提炼出酒来，之前醋栗只能做糖浆——哦，我做成了。我酿出了一种好酒——确实非常可口，棒极了。”
And quite delighted, he went to a cupboard, opened it, and picked out a bottle which he brought forth. He moved and did everything in jerky gestures, always incomplete; he never quite stretched out his arm, nor quite put out his legs; nor made any broad and definite movements. His ideas seemed to be like his actions; he suggested them, promised them, sketched them, hinted at them, but never fully uttered them.
And, indeed, his great end in life seemed to be the concoction of sirups and liqueurs. "A good sirup or a good liqueur is enough to make a fortune," he would often say.
He had compounded hundreds of these sweet mixtures without ever succeeding in floating one of them. Pierre declared that Marowsko always reminded him of Marat.
Two little glasses were fetched out of the back shop and placed on the mixing-board. Then the two men scrutinized the colour of the fluid by holding it up to the gas.
"A fine ruby," Pierre declared.“漂亮的红宝石色。”皮埃尔大声说。
"Isn't it?" Marowsko's old parrot-face beamed with satisfaction.“可不是？”马露斯科很满意，鹦鹉脸上面露喜色。
The doctor tasted, smacked his lips, meditated, tasted again, meditated again, and spoke:
"Very good-capital; and quite new in flavour. It is a find, my dear fellow."“很好，很好，这味道真是独特。真是种新口味，亲爱的伙计。”
"Ah, really? Well, I am very glad."“啊，真的吗？哦，我太高兴了。”
Then Marowsko took counsel as to baptizing the new liqueur. He wanted to call it "Extract of currants," or else "Fine Groseille" or "Groselia," or again "Groseline." Pierre did not approve of either of these names.
Then the old man had an idea:
"What you said just now would be very good, very good: 'Fine Ruby.'” But the doctor disputed the merit of this name, though it had originated with him. He recommended simply "Groseillette," which Marowsko thought admirable.“您刚才说得很好，就叫它‘美丽的红宝石’。”虽然这个名字是医生自己说出来的，但他还是质疑这个名字的优点。他建议还不如简单地叫“醋栗酒”好，马露斯科也表示赞同。
Then they were silent, and sat for some minutes without a word under the solitary gas-lamp. At last Pierre began, almost in spite of himself:
"A queer thing has happened at home this evening. A friend of my father's, who is lately dead, has left his fortune to my brother."“今天晚上我家发生了一件怪事。我父亲的一个朋友最近去世了，把他的遗产赠给了我弟弟。”
The druggist did not at first seem to understand, but after thinking it over he hoped that the doctor had half the inheritance. When the matter was clearly explained to him he appeared surprised and vexed; and to express his dissatisfaction at finding that his young friend had been sacrificed, he said several times over:
"It will not look well."“这不会有好结果的。”
Pierre, who was relapsing into nervous irritation, wanted to know what Marowsko meant by this phrase.
Why would it not look well? What was there to look badly in the fact that his brother had come into the money of a friend of the family?
But the cautious old man would not explain further.
"In such a case the money is left equally to the two brothers, and I tell you, it will not look well."“碰上这样的情况，财产应该兄弟两人平分，我告诉你，这不会有好结果的。”
And the doctor, out of all patience, went away, returned to his father's house, and went to bed. For some time afterward he heard Jean moving softly about the adjoining room, and then, after drinking two glasses of water, he fell asleep.
The doctor awoke next morning firmly resolved to make his fortune. Several times already he had come to the same determination without following up the reality. At the outset of all his trials of some new career the hopes of rapidly acquired riches kept up his efforts and confidence, till the first obstacle, the first check, threw him into a fresh path. Snug in bed between the warm sheets, he lay meditating. How many medical men had become wealthy in quite a short time! All that was needed was a little knowledge of the world; for in the course of his studies he had learned to estimate the most famous physicians, and he judged them all to be asses. He was certainly as good as they, if not better. If by any means he could secure a practice among the wealth and fashion of Havre, he could easily make a hundred thousand francs a year. And he calculated with great exactitude what his certain profits must be. He would go out in the morning to visit his patients; at the very moderate average of ten a day, at twenty francs each, that would mount up to seventy-two thousand francs a year at least, or even seventy-five thousand; for ten patients was certainly below the mark. In the afternoon he would be at home to, say, another ten patients, at ten francs each—thirty-six thousand francs. Here, then, in round numbers was an income of a hundred and twenty thousand francs. Old patients, or friends whom he would charge only ten francs for a visit, or see at home for five, would perhaps make a slight reduction on this sum total, but consultations with other physicians and various incidental fees would make up for that.
Nothing could be easier than to achieve this by skilful advertising remarks in the Figaro to the effect that the scientific faculty of Paris had their eye on him, and were interested in the cures effected by the modest young practitioner of Havre! And he would be richer than his brother, richer and more famous; and satisfied with himself, for he would owe his fortune solely to his own exertions; and liberal to his old parents, who would be justly proud of his fame. He would not marry, would not burden his life with a wife who would be in his way, but he would choose his mistress from the most beautiful of his patients. He felt so sure of success that he sprang out of bed as though to grasp it on the spot, and he dressed to go and search through the town for rooms to suit him.
Then, as he wandered about the streets, he reflected how slight are the causes which determine our actions. Any time these three weeks he might and ought to have come to this decision, which, beyond a doubt, the news of his brother's inheritance had abruptly given rise to.
He stopped before every door where a placard proclaimed that "fine apartments" or "handsome rooms" were to be let; announcements without an adjective he turned from with scorn. Then he inspected them with a lofty air, measuring the height of the rooms, sketching the plan in his note-book, with the passages, the arrangement of the exits, explaining that he was a medical man and had many visitors. He must have a broad and well-kept stair-case; nor could he be any higher up than the first floor.
After having written down seven or eight addresses and scribbled two hundred notes, he got home to breakfast a quarter of an hour too late.
In the hall he heard the clatter of plates. Then they had begun without him! Why? They were never wont to be so punctual. He was nettled and put out, for he was somewhat thin-skinned. As he went in Roland said to him:
"Come, Pierre, make haste, devil take you! You know we have to be at the lawyer's at two o'clock. This is not the day to be dawdling."“快来，皮埃尔，赶紧，该死的！你知道我们两点钟要到律师那里去。今天可不是什么闲逛的日子。”
Pierre sat down without replying, after kissing his mother and shaking hands with his father and brother; and he helped himself from the deep dish in the middle of the table to the cutlet which had been kept for him. It was cold and dry, probably the least tempting of them all. He thought that they might have left it on the hot plate till he came in, and not lose their heads so completely as to have forgotten their other son, their eldest.
The conversation, which his entrance had interrupted, was taken up again at the point where it had ceased.
"In your place," Mme. Roland was saying to Jean, "I will tell you what I should do at once. I should settle in handsome rooms so as to attract attention; I should ride on horseback and select one or two interesting cases to defend and make a mark in court. I would be a sort of amateur lawyer, and very select. Thank God you are out of all danger of want, and if you pursue a profession, it is, after all, only that you may not lose the benefit of your studies, and because a man ought never to sit idle."“如果是我，”罗兰太太对让说，“我会告诉你我该立刻做什么。我要买一栋豪宅定居，以引人注目；我要骑马；我要选一两件有趣的案子进行辩护，在法庭留名。我要当一个业余律师，而且是百里挑一的那种。感谢上帝，你现在衣食无忧了，你要有个职业，说到底也只是为了不浪费你的学习成果，还因为身为男人绝不应该无所事事。”
Old Roland, who was peeling a pear, exclaimed:
"Christi! In your place I should buy a nice yacht, a cutter on the build of our pilot-boats. I would sail as far as Senegal in such a boat as that."“老天爷！如果我是你，我要买一艘漂亮的游艇，一艘像我们的引水船一样构造的快艇。有了这种船，我可以一直驶到塞内加尔。”
Pierre, in his turn, spoke his views. After all, said he, it was not his wealth which made the moral worth, the intellectual worth of a man. To a man of inferior mind it was only a means of degradation, while in the hands of a strong man it was a powerful lever. They, to be sure, were rare. If Jean were a really superior man, now that he could never want he might prove it. But then he must work a hundred times harder than he would have done in other circumstances. His business now must be not to argue for or against the widow and the orphan, and pocket his fees for every case he gained, but to become a really eminent legal authority, a luminary of the law. And he added in conclusion:
"If I were rich wouldn't I dissect no end of bodies!"“如果我有钱，我就买无数尸体来解剖！”
Father Roland shrugged his shoulders.
"That is all very fine," he said. "But the wisest way of life is to take it easy. We are not beasts of burden, but men. If you are born poor you must work; well, so much the worse; and you do work. But where you have dividends! You must be a flat if you grind yourself to death."“那也不错，”他说，“不过最明智的生活方式是悠闲度日。我们不是苦苦干活的牛马，我们是人。如果生来就穷，就得干活，那也是他活该，那就干吧。可如果有红利可拿！那只有白痴才会去自讨苦吃！”
Pierre replied haughtily:
"Our notions differ. For my part, I respect nothing on earth but learning and intellect; everything else is beneath contempt."“人各有志。就我而言，这个世界上我只尊重知识和智慧，其他一切都微不足道。”
Mme. Roland always tried to deaden the constant shocks between father and son; she turned the conversation, and began talking of a murder committed the week before at Bolbec Nointot. Their minds were immediately full of the circumstances under which the crime had been committed, and absorbed by the interesting horror, the attractive mystery of crime, which, however commonplace, shameful, and disgusting, exercises a strange and universal fascination over the curiosity of mankind. Now and again, however, old Roland looked at his watch. "Come," said he, "it is time to be going."
"It is not yet one o'clock," he said. "It really was hardly worth while to condemn me to eat a cold cutlet."“还没到一点呢，”他说，“害得我吃冷肉排，这真不值得。”
"Are you coming to the lawyer's?" his mother asked.“你去律师那儿吗？”他母亲问。
"I? No. What for?" he replied dryly. "My presence is quite unnecessary."“我？不去。我去干嘛？”他冷冰冰地回答，“我压根没必要去。”
Jean sat silent, as though he had no concern in the matter. When they were discussing the murder at Bolbec he, as a legal authority, had put forward some opinions and uttered some reflections on crime and criminals. Now he spoke no more; but the sparkle in his eye, the bright colour in his cheeks, the very gloss of his beard seemed to proclaim his happiness.
When the family had gone, Pierre, alone once more, resumed his investigations in the apartments to let. After two or three hours spent in going up and down stairs, he at last found, in the Boulevard Francois, a pretty set of rooms; a spacious entresol with two doors on two different streets, two drawing-rooms, a glass corridor, where his patients while they waited, might walk among flowers, and a delightful dining-room with a bow-window looking out over the sea.
When it came to taking it, the terms—three thousand francs—pulled him up; the first quarter must be paid in advance, and he had nothing, not a penny to call his own.
The little fortune his father had saved brought him in about eight thousand francs a year, and Pierre had often blamed himself for having placed his parents in difficulties by his long delay in deciding on a profession, by forfeiting his attempts and beginning fresh courses of study. So he went away, promising to send his answer within two days, and it occurred to him to ask Jean to lend him the amount of this quarter's rent, or even of a half-year, fifteen hundred francs, as soon as Jean should have come into possession.
"It will be a loan for a few months at most," he thought. "I shall repay him, very likely before the end of the year. It is a simple matter, and he will be glad to do so much for me."“我顶多借用几个月，”他想，“我也许年底之前就能还给他。而且，这么简单的小事，他会很乐意帮我这个忙的。”
As it was not yet four o'clock, and he had nothing to do, absolutely nothing, he went to sit in the public gardens; and he remained a long time on a bench, without an idea in his brain, his eyes fixed on the ground, crushed by weariness amounting to distress.
And yet this was how he had been living all these days since his return home, without suffering so acutely from the vacuity of his existence and from inaction. How had he spent his time from rising in the morning till bed-time?
He had loafed on the pier at high tide, loafed in the streets, loafed in the cafes, loafed at Marowsko's, loafed everywhere. And on a sudden this life, which he had endured till now, had become odious, intolerable. If he had had any pocket-money, he would have taken a carriage for a long drive in the country, along by the farm-ditches shaded by beech and elm trees; but he had to think twice of the cost of a glass of beer or a postage-stamp, and such an indulgence was out of his ken. It suddenly struck him how hard it was for a man of past thirty to be reduced to ask his mother, with a blush for a twenty-franc piece every now and then; and he muttered, as he scored the gravel with the ferule of his stick:
"Christi, if I only had money!"“天啊，要是我有钱该多好！”
And again the thought of his brother's legacy came into his head like the sting of a wasp; but he drove it out indignantly, not choosing to allow himself to slip down that descent to jealousy.
Some children were playing about in the dusty paths. They were fair little things with long hair, and they were making little mounds of sand with the greatest gravity and careful attention, to crush them at once by stamping on them.
It was one of those gloomy days with Pierre when we pry into every corner of our souls and shake out every crease.
"All our endeavours are like the labours of those babies," thought he. And then he wondered whether the wisest thing in life were not to beget two or three of these little creatures and watch them grow up with complacent curiosity. A longing for marriage breathed on his soul. A man is not so lost when he is not alone. At any rate, he has some one stirring at his side in hours of trouble or of uncertainty; and it is something only to be able to speak on equal terms to a woman when one is suffering.“我们毕生的努力就像那些孩子在堆沙丘一样。”他想。而后他又在想，生活中最明智的事情，是不是生下两三个这样小生命，然后怀着满足感和好奇心看着他们长大成人。他心里又对婚姻有了一丝期许。男人不孤单的时候，就不会这样迷惘了。至少在他感到心神不宁或者犹豫不定时会有个人陪在身边。在痛苦的时候，能和一个女人平等地谈谈心，这也不错了。
Then he began thinking of women. He knew very little of them, never having had any but very transient connections as a medical student, broken off as soon as the month's allowance was spent, and renewed or replaced by another the following month. And yet there must be some very kind, gentle, and comforting creatures among them. Had not his mother been the good sense and saving grace of his own home? How glad he would be to know a woman, a true woman!
He started up with a sudden determination to go and call on Mme. Rosemilly. But he promptly sat down again. He did not like that woman. Why not? She had too much vulgar and sordid common sense; besides, did she not seem to prefer Jean? Without confessing it to himself too bluntly, this preference had a great deal to do with his low opinion of the widow's intellect; for, though he loved his brother, he could not help thinking him somewhat mediocre and believing himself the superior. However, he was not going to sit there till nightfall; and as he had done on the previous evening, he anxiously asked himself: "What am I going to do?"
At this moment he felt in his soul the need of a melting mood, of being embraced and comforted. Comforted—for what? He could not have put it into words; but he was in one of these hours of weakness and exhaustion when a woman's presence, a woman's kiss, the touch of a hand, the rustle of a petticoat, a soft look out of black or blue eyes, seem the one thing needful, there and then, to our heart. And the memory flashed upon him of a little barmaid at a beer-house, whom he had walked home with one evening, and seen again from time to time.
So once more he rose, to go and drink a bock with the girl. What should he say to her? What would she say to him? Nothing, probably. But what did that matter? He would hold her hand for a few seconds. She seemed to have a fancy for him. Why, then, did he not go to see her oftener?
He found her dozing on a chair in the beer-shop, which was almost deserted. Three men were drinking and smoking with their elbows on the oak tables; the book-keeper in her desk was reading a novel, while the master, in his shirt-sleeves, lay sound asleep on a bench.
As soon as she saw him the girl rose eagerly, and coming to meet him, said:
"Good-day, monsieur—how are you?"“您好，先生，最近还好吗？”
"Pretty well; and you?"“不错，你呢？”
"I—oh, very well. How scarce you make yourself!"“我嘛——我很好。您可是个稀客！”
"Yes. I have very little time to myself. I am a doctor, you know."“是啊。我自由支配的时间很少。你知道，我是个医生。”
"Indeed! You never told me. If I had known that—I was out of sorts last week and I would have sent for you. What will you take?"“真的！您可从来没对我说过。我上周不大舒服，如果我知道您是个医生，我就去请您看病了。您想要点什么？”
"A bock. And you?"“来杯黑啤酒。你呢？”
"I will have a bock, too, since you are willing to treat me."“我也来一杯吧，既然你愿意请客。”
She had addressed him with the familiar 'tu', and continued to use it, as if the offer of a drink had tacitly conveyed permission. Then, sitting down opposite each other, they talked for a while. Every now and then she took his hand with the light familiarity of girls whose kisses are for sale, and looking at him with inviting eyes she said:
"Why don't you come here oftener? I like you very much, sweetheart."“你为什么不常来这儿转转呢？我挺喜欢你，亲爱的。”
He was already disgusted with her; he saw how stupid she was, and common, smacking of low life. A woman, he told himself, should appear to us in dreams, or such a glory as may poetize her vulgarity.
Next she asked him:
"You went by the other morning with a handsome fair man, wearing a big beard. Is he your brother?"“有一天早上，你和一个留着大胡子、皮肤白皙的帅小伙儿路过这儿。那是你弟弟吗？”
"Yes, he is my brother."“是的，他是我弟弟。”
"Do you think so?"“你真这么想吗？”
"Yes, indeed; and he looks like a man who enjoys life, too."“当然，而且他看上去还是个很热爱生活的人。”
What strange craving impelled him on a sudden to tell this tavern-wench about Jean's legacy? Why should this thing, which he kept at arm's length when he was alone, which he drove from him for fear of the torment it brought upon his soul, rise to his lips at this moment? And why did he allow it to overflow them as if he needed once more to empty out his heart to some one, gorged as it was with bitterness?
He crossed his legs and said:
"He has wonderful luck, that brother of mine. He had just come into a legacy of twenty thousand francs a year."“我那个弟弟，他可是交了好运啦。他刚刚继承了一笔可以拿到两万年金的遗产。
She opened those covetous blue eyes of hers very wide.
"Oh! and who left him that? His grandmother or his aunt?"“哟！谁留给他的啊？他祖母还是他姑妈？”
"No. An old friend of my parents'."“不，是我父母的一个老朋友。”
"Only a friend! Impossible! And you—did he leave you nothing?"“只是个朋友！不可能！那你呢——他一点儿都没给你留吗？”
"No. I knew him very slightly."“不，我和他不太熟。”
She sat thinking some minutes; then, with an odd smile on her lips, she said:
"Well, he is a lucky dog, that brother of yours, to have friends of this pattern. My word! and no wonder he is so unlike you."“好啊，你兄弟真是个幸运儿，能交到这样的朋友。哎呀！难怪他和你一点儿也不像。”
He longed to slap her, without knowing why; and he asked with pinched lips: "And what do you mean by saying that?"
She had put on a stolid, innocent face.
"Oh, nothing. I mean he has better luck than you."“喔，没什么意思。我只是说他比你运气好。”
He tossed a franc piece on the table and went out.
Now he kept repeating the phrase: "No wonder he is so unlike you."
What had her thought been, what had been her meaning under those words? There was certainly some malice, some spite, something shameful in it. Yes, that hussy must have fancied, no doubt, that Jean was Marechal's son. The agitation which came over him at the notion of this suspicion cast at his mother was so violent that he stood still, looking about him for some place where he might sit down. In front of him was another cafe. He went in, took a chair, and as the waiter came up, "A bock," he said.
He felt his heart beating, his skin was gooseflesh. And then the recollection flashed upon him of what Marowsko had said the evening before. "It will not look well." Had he had the same thought, the same suspicion as this baggage? Hanging his head over the glass, he watched the white froth as the bubbles rose and burst, asking himself: "Is it possible that such a thing should be believed?"
But the reasons which might give rise to this horrible doubt in other men's minds now struck him, one after another, as plain, obvious, and exasperating. That a childless old bachelor should leave his fortune to a friend's two sons was the most simple and natural thing in the world; but that he should leave the whole of it to one alone—of course people would wonder, and whisper, and end by smiling. How was it that he had not foreseen this, that his father had not felt it? How was it that his mother had not guessed it? No; they had been too delighted at this unhoped-for wealth for the idea to come near them. And besides, how should these worthy souls have ever dreamed of anything so ignominious?
But the public—their neighbours, the shopkeepers, their own tradesmen, all who knew them—would not they repeat the abominable thing, laugh at it, enjoy it, make game of his father and despise his mother?
And the barmaid's remark that Jean was fair and he dark, that they were not in the least alike in face, manner, figure, or intelligence, would now strike every eye and every mind. When any one spoke of Roland's son, the question would be: "Which, the real or the false?"
He rose, firmly resolved to warn Jean, and put him on his guard against the frightful danger which threatened their mother's honour.
But what could Jean do? The simplest thing no doubt, would be to refuse the inheritance, which would then go to the poor, and to tell all friends or acquaintances who had heard of the bequest that the will contained clauses and conditions impossible to subscribe to, which would have made Jean not inheritor but merely a trustee.
As he made his way home he was thinking that he must see his brother alone, so as not to speak of such a matter in the presence of his parents. On reaching the door he heard a great noise of voices and laughter in the drawing-room, and when he went in he found Captain Beausire and Mme. Rosemilly, whom his father had brought home and engaged to dine with them in honour of the good news. Vermouth and absinthe had been served to whet their appetites, and every one had been at once put into good spirits. Captain Beausire, a funny little man who had become quite round by dint of being rolled about at sea, and whose ideas also seemed to have been worn round, like the pebbles of a beach, while he laughed with his throat full of r's, looked upon life as a capital thing, in which everything that might turn up was good to take. He clinked his glass against father Roland's, while Jean was offering two freshly filled glasses to the ladies. Mme. Rosemilly refused, till Captain Beausire, who had known her husband, cried:
"Come, come, madame, bis repetita placent, as we say in the lingo, which is as much as to say two glasses of vermouth never hurt any one. Look at me; since I have left the sea, in this way I give myself an artificial roll or two every day before dinner; I add a little pitching after my coffee, and that keeps things lively for the rest of the evening. I never rise to a hurricane, mind you, never, never. I am too much afraid of damage.“喝吧，喝吧，太太，我们有句土话叫‘好事成双’，意思就是说，喝两杯苦艾酒绝不会有什么坏处的。你瞧我，自打我不出海之后，我每天都像这样在饭前喝上几口，喝完后就好似船身在左右摇晃；喝过咖啡后再喝上几口，就好像在穿上颠簸，这样晚上的时光就会充满了生气。但我决不会喝到狂澜汹涌的程度，决不，决不。因为我特害怕造成破坏。
Roland, whose nautical mania was humoured by the old mariner, laughed heartily, his face flushed already and his eye watery from the absinthe. He had a burly shop-keeping stomach—nothing but stomach—in which the rest of his body seemed to have got stowed away; the flabby paunch of men who spend their lives sitting, and who have neither thighs, nor chest, nor arms, nor neck; the seat of their chairs having accumulated all their substance in one spot. Beausire, on the contrary, though short and stout, was as tight as an egg and as hard as a cannon-ball.
Mme. Roland had not emptied her glass and was gazing at her son Jean with sparkling eyes; happiness had brought a colour to her cheeks.
In him, too, the fulness of joy had now blazed out. It was a settled thing, signed and sealed; he had twenty thousand francs a year. In the sound of his laugh, in the fuller voice with which he spoke, in his way of looking at the others, his more positive manners, his greater confidence, the assurance given by money was at once perceptible.
Dinner was announced, and as the old man was about to offer his arm to Mme. Rosemilly, his wife exclaimed:
"No, no, father. Everything is for Jean to-day."“不，不，老爹。让才是今天的主角。
Unwonted luxury graced the table. In front of Jean, who sat in his father's place, an enormous bouquet of flowers—a bouquet for a really great occasion-stood up like a cupola dressed with flags, and was flanked by four high dishes, one containing a pyramid of splendid peaches; the second, a monumental cake gorged with whipped cream and covered with pinnacles of sugar-a cathedral in confectionery; the third, slices of pine-apple floating in clear sirup; and the fourth—unheard-of lavishness—black grapes brought from the warmer south.
"The devil!" exclaimed Pierre as he sat down. "We are celebrating the accession of Jean the rich."“见鬼！”皮埃尔坐下时大声说，“我们在祝贺百万富翁让登基啊。”
After the soup, Madeira was passed round, and already every one was talking at once. Beausire was giving the history of a dinner he had eaten at San Domingo at the table of a negro general. Old Roland was listening, and at the same time trying to get in, between the sentences, his account of another dinner, given by a friend of his at Mendon, after which every guest was ill for a fortnight. Mme. Rosemilly, Jean, and his mother were planning an excursion to breakfast at Saint Jouin, from which they promised themselves the greatest pleasure; and Pierre was only sorry that he had not dined alone in some pot-house by the sea, so as to escape all this noise and laughter and glee which fretted him. He was wondering how he could now set to work to confide his fears to his brother, and induce him to renounce the fortune he had already accepted and of which he was enjoying the intoxicating foretaste. It would be hard on him, no doubt; but it must be done; he could not hesitate; their mother's reputation was at stake.
The appearance of an enormous shade-fish threw Roland back on fishing stories. Beausire told some wonderful tales of adventure on the Gaboon, at Sainte-Marie, in Madagascar, and above all, off the coasts of Japan, where the fish are as queer-looking as the natives. And he described the appearance of these fishes—their goggle gold eyes, their blue or red bellies, their fantastic fins like fans, their eccentric crescent-shaped tails—with such droll gesticulation that they all laughed till they cried as they listened.