Chapter 101

第一百零一章

菲利普举手按门铃的当儿，窗口探出一个脑袋，不一会儿，他听到楼梯上一阵杂乱的咚咚脚步声，这是孩子们冲下楼给他开门来了。他弯下腰，仰起一张苍白、急切、憔阵的脸，让孩子们挨着亲吻。孩子们对他充满了爱慕之情，深深地打动了他的心。为了使自己喘过气来，他跟孩子们东扯葫芦西扯瓢的聊着，在楼梯上走走停停、停停走走。此时他有点儿歇斯底里的，几乎什么事情都会引起他大哭一场。孩子们问他上个星期天为河不来他们家，他回答说病了。他们想知道他生的是什么病，而菲利普为了同他们逗趣，回答说是患了一种神秘莫测的病症，那病名非驴非马，听上去既像希腊文，又像拉丁文，模棱两可的（医学专门术语里希腊、拉丁两种文字混合在一起的现象多的是）。他们听后一个个高兴地尖叫起来。他们把菲利普拖进起居室，要他把那个病名再说一遍，好让他们的父亲也长点见识。阿特尔涅站了起来，同菲利普握了握手。他瞪视着菲利普，不过他生就一双圆圆的、向前凸出的眼睛，那样子看上去总是在虎视眈眈地望着别人似的。菲利普闹不清楚，为什么今天这种场合会使自己忸怩不安。

"上星期天，我们都牵念你哩，"阿特尔涅说道。

菲利普一说谎，没有不脸红的，因而此刻当他解释完毕为何没来的原因以后，他那张脸涨得通红通红。这当儿，阿特尔涅太太走了进来，上前同菲利普握了握手。

"我希望你好些了，凯里先生，"她说。

菲利普心里不由得嘀咕起来，她怎么会想到他身体不好呢？因为他跟随孩子们上楼时，厨房门一直是紧闭着的啊，再说孩子们一步也没有离开过他呀。

"晚饭再有十分钟还好不了，"阿特尔涅太太慢腾腾地拖长声音说。"等晚饭的这会儿，你先来一杯牛奶打鸡蛋好？"

阿特尔涅太太脸上显出一种关切的神色，这使得菲利普局促不安起来。他强颜欢笑，回答说他一点儿也不觉得饿。见莎莉走进来摆台布，菲利普便立即拿她开玩笑。家里人都开她玩笑，说她将来会长得跟阿特尔涅太太的一位姑姑一样胖。这位姑姑名叫伊丽莎白，孩子们谁也没见过她，只把她当作令人生厌的体态臃肿的典型而已。

"嘿，莎莉，自上次见到你以来，发生了一个什么变化呀？"

"据我所知，什么变化也没有。"

"我相信你一直在长膘。"

"我深信你长不了膘，"她反唇相讥，"你完全成了个骷髅。"

菲利普的脸刷地红了。

"你这就不对罗，莎莉，"她的父亲嚷道。"罚你一根金头发。珍妮，去拿把大剪刀来。"

"嗯，他是很瘦嘛，爸爸，"莎莉抗辩说，"简直骨瘦如柴。"

"这不是问题的要害，孩子。他完全有权利瘦吧，可是你过度肥胖却有失体面。"

他说话的当儿，扬扬自得地用手搂住莎莉的腰，并用赞叹的目光注视着她。

"让我把台布铺好，爸爸。要是我轻快了，有些人也不见得会来关心这件事。"

"不正经的小丫头！"阿特尔涅叫了一声，一只手戏剧性地挥了挥。"她老是用嘲笑来刺激我，说什么约瑟夫已经向她求婚了。约瑟夫是在霍尔本开珠宝店的那个莱维的一个儿子。"

"莎莉，你有没有接受他的求婚呀？"菲利普问道。

"你到这时还不了解我父亲吗？他说的话没一句是真的。"

"嗯，要是他还没有向你求婚的话，"阿特尔涅又嚷道，"我向圣乔治和可爱的英格兰发誓，我就去扭住他的鼻子，要他立即回答我他究竟居心何在。"

"请坐下，爸爸，晚饭已做好了。喂，孩子们，你们都听着，统统出去，都去洗手，一个也别想溜，我要检查你们的手，然后才让你们吃饭。好，快走！"

菲利普觉得饿极了，可当真要吃时，又没有胃口，一点儿东西都咽不下去。他脑子疲惫不堪。他竟没有注意到阿特尔涅一反常态，只顾闷着头吃饭，很少说话。坐在这舒适宜人的屋子里，菲利普感到宽慰，但是他无法控制自己，仍不时地抬头向窗外张望。这天刮着暴风，下着暴雨。蛮好的天气给揽了。外面寒气袭人，凄风呼啸，阵阵暴雨哗啦啦地拍打着窗户。菲利普心里犯起愁来，不知今晚在何处安身。阿特尔涅一家睡觉挺早的，他呆在这儿，至迟不得超过十点钟。一想到要走进那凄风苦雨的黑暗中去，菲利普的心不由得一沉。对他来说，呆在朋友家里，那黑漆漆的夜要比他孤单单地一人呆在户外显得更加可怕。他不时地劝慰自己，还有许多人也将在户外过夜。他几次想通过说话来引开自己的思绪，但是话刚说出一半，一听到雨点敲打窗户发出的噼噼啪啪声又缩了回去，不觉胆战心凉。

"这倒像三月里的天气，"阿特尔涅说，"没有谁喜欢在这种天气里去渡英吉利海峡。"

不一会儿，晚饭吃好了，莎莉进来收拾餐桌。

"这种两便士的蹩脚货，你想不想也来一根！"阿特尔涅说着，随手递给菲利普一支雪茄烟。

菲利普接过雪茄，并高高兴兴地吸了一口。这口烟下肚，心里着实畅快。莎莉收拾完毕后，阿特尔涅关照她随手把门关好。

"这下没人来打扰我们了，"他转过脸来对菲利普说。"我事先跟贝蒂说好的，我不叫，不准让孩子们进来。"

菲利普听后不觉诧异，但是还没来得及领会他的意思，阿特尔涅用惯常的动作扶了扶架在鼻梁上的眼镜，然后接着往下说道：

"上星期天我写给你一封信，询问你出什么事没有。见你不回信，我星期三跑到你的住处找你去了。"

菲利普把头转向别处，默然不语。他的心评怦直跳。阿特尔涅一言不发。眨眼间，房间里一片沉寂。菲利普忍受不了，但又想不出一句话来。

"你的房东太太告诉我，说你打上星期六晚上起就没住在那儿，而且还说你还欠着上个月的房钱没付。这个星期你都睡在哪儿了？"

这个问题菲利普实在不想回答。他目光呆滞地凝视着窗外。

"没地方可去。"

"我一直想法找到你。"

"为什么？"菲利普问了一声。

"贝蒂和我的日子也一直很穷，我们还得抚养孩子。你为什么不上我家来呢？"

"我不能呀！"

菲利普生怕自己哇地一声失声痛哭。他感到周身软弱无力。他闭上双眼，皱了皱眉头，竭力控制住自己的情感。他突然忿恨起阿特尔涅来了，恨阿特尔涅不让他清静。他的精神彻底垮了。此时，他的双目依然紧闭着，为了使自己的语调平稳，他一字一顿地说着，把上几个星期的遭遇一股脑儿都告诉了阿特尔涅。在诉说的过程中，菲利普似乎觉得自己的行为有点儿愚蠢，这使得他更加语无伦次。他感到阿特尔涅会认为他是个彻头彻尾的大傻瓜。

"好，在你找到工作之前，你就跟我们住在一起，"他讲完以后，阿特尔汉这样说道。

菲利普莫名其妙地涨红了脸。

"喔，你们太好了，不过我想我不能这么做。"

"为什么不能呢？"

菲利普没有回答。他出于本能，生怕自己打扰人家而加以拒绝，再说他生性就羞于接受别人的恩惠。他心里明白，阿特尔涅夫妇俩也只是做做吃吃，勉强得以糊口，另外家里那么多人，既没有地方也没有多余的钱来接济一位陌生人。

"你当然应该住到这儿来，"阿特尔涅说。"索普可以跟他的弟兄们合睡，你就睡他的床。别以为多了你那一日三餐饭，我们就对付不了了。"

菲利普害怕说话。于是，阿特尔涅走到门口，呼唤他的妻子。

"贝蒂，"阿特尔涅太太进来时他说，"凯里先生准备住在我们这儿。"

"哦，那敢情好哇，"她说。"我这就去把床铺好。"

她把什么都当作理所当然的事，说话时声音是那么的亲切、友好，菲利普深受感动。他从来不指望人们对他表示友善，然而人们一旦对他表示友善，他就感到惊异、激动。此刻，他再也克制不住自己，两颗硕大的眼泪夺眶而出，顺着面颊扑籁而下。阿特尔涅夫妇俩佯作没看见，在一旁商讨安置他的办法。阿特尔涅太太走后，菲利普身子往后靠在椅子上，两眼眺望着窗外，不觉粲然一笑。

"今晚这天气可不宜外出散步哟，对不？"
 

When Philip rang a head was put out of the window, and in a minute he heard a noisy clatter on the stairs as the children ran down to let him in. It was a pale, anxious, thin face that he bent down for them to kiss. He was so moved by their exuberant affection that, to give himself time to recover, he made excuses to linger on the stairs. He was in a hysterical state and almost anything was enough to make him cry. They asked him why he had not come on the previous Sunday, and he told them he had been ill; they wanted to know what was the matter with him; and Philip, to amuse them, suggested a mysterious ailment, the name of which, double-barrelled and barbarous with its mixture of Greek and Latin (medical nomenclature bristled with such), made them shriek with delight. They dragged Philip into the parlour and made him repeat it for their father’s edification. Athelny got up and shook hands with him. He stared at Philip, but with his round, bulging eyes he always seemed to stare, Philip did not know why on this occasion it made him self-conscious.

‘We missed you last Sunday,’ he said.

Philip could never tell lies without embarrassment, and he was scarlet when he finished his explanation for not coming. Then Mrs. Athelny entered and shook hands with him.

‘I hope you’re better, Mr. Carey,’ she said.

He did not know why she imagined that anything had been the matter with him, for the kitchen door was closed when he came up with the children, and they had not left him.

‘Dinner won’t be ready for another ten minutes,’ she said, in her slow drawl. ‘Won’t you have an egg beaten up in a glass of milk while you’re waiting?’

There was a look of concern on her face which made Philip uncomfortable. He forced a laugh and answered that he was not at all hungry. Sally came in to lay the table, and Philip began to chaff her. It was the family joke that she would be as fat as an aunt of Mrs. Athelny, called Aunt Elizabeth, whom the children had never seen but regarded as the type of obscene corpulence.

‘I say, what HAS happened since I saw you last, Sally?’ Philip began.

‘Nothing that I know of.’

‘I believe you’ve been putting on weight.’

‘I’m sure you haven’t,’ she retorted. ‘You’re a perfect skeleton.’

Philip reddened.

‘That’s a tu quoque, Sally,’ cried her father. ‘You will be fined one golden hair of your head. Jane, fetch the shears.’

‘Well, he is thin, father,’ remonstrated Sally. ‘He’s just skin and bone.’

‘That’s not the question, child. He is at perfect liberty to be thin, but your obesity is contrary to decorum.’

As he spoke he put his arm proudly round her waist and looked at her with admiring eyes.

‘Let me get on with the table, father. If I am comfortable there are some who don’t seem to mind it.’

‘The hussy!’ cried Athelny, with a dramatic wave of the hand. ‘She taunts me with the notorious fact that Joseph, a son of Levi who sells jewels in Holborn, has made her an offer of marriage.’

‘Have you accepted him, Sally?’ asked Philip.

‘Don’t you know father better than that by this time? There’s not a word of truth in it.’

‘Well, if he hasn’t made you an offer of marriage,’ cried Athelny, ‘by Saint George and Merry England, I will seize him by the nose and demand of him immediately what are his intentions.’

‘Sit down, father, dinner’s ready. Now then, you children, get along with you and wash your hands all of you, and don’t shirk it, because I mean to look at them before you have a scrap of dinner, so there.’

Philip thought he was ravenous till he began to eat, but then discovered that his stomach turned against food, and he could eat hardly at all. His brain was weary; and he did not notice that Athelny, contrary to his habit, spoke very little. Philip was relieved to be sitting in a comfortable house, but every now and then he could not prevent himself from glancing out of the window. The day was tempestuous. The fine weather had broken; and it was cold, and there was a bitter wind; now and again gusts of rain drove against the window. Philip wondered what he should do that night. The Athelnys went to bed early, and he could not stay where he was after ten o’clock. His heart sank at the thought of going out into the bleak darkness. It seemed more terrible now that he was with his friends than when he was outside and alone. He kept on saying to himself that there were plenty more who would be spending the night out of doors. He strove to distract his mind by talking, but in the middle of his words a spatter of rain against the window would make him start.

‘It’s like March weather,’ said Athelny. ‘Not the sort of day one would like to be crossing the Channel.’

Presently they finished, and Sally came in and cleared away.

‘Would you like a twopenny stinker?’ said Athelny, handing him a cigar.

Philip took it and inhaled the smoke with delight. It soothed him extraordinarily. When Sally had finished Athelny told her to shut the door after her.

‘Now we shan’t be disturbed,’ he said, turning to Philip. ‘I’ve arranged with Betty not to let the children come in till I call them.’

Philip gave him a startled look, but before he could take in the meaning of his words, Athelny, fixing his glasses on his nose with the gesture habitual to him, went on.

‘I wrote to you last Sunday to ask if anything was the matter with you, and as you didn’t answer I went to your rooms on Wednesday.’

Philip turned his head away and did not answer. His heart began to beat violently. Athelny did not speak, and presently the silence seemed intolerable to Philip. He could not think of a single word to say.

‘Your landlady told me you hadn’t been in since Saturday night, and she said you owed her for the last month. Where have you been sleeping all this week?’

It made Philip sick to answer. He stared out of the window.

‘Nowhere.’

‘I tried to find you.’

‘Why?’ asked Philip.

‘Betty and I have been just as broke in our day, only we had babies to look after. Why didn’t you come here?’

‘I couldn’t.’

Philip was afraid he was going to cry. He felt very weak. He shut his eyes and frowned, trying to control himself. He felt a sudden flash of anger with Athelny because he would not leave him alone; but he was broken; and presently, his eyes still closed, slowly in order to keep his voice steady, he told him the story of his adventures during the last few weeks. As he spoke it seemed to him that he had behaved inanely, and it made it still harder to tell. He felt that Athelny would think him an utter fool.

‘Now you’re coming to live with us till you find something to do,’ said Athelny, when he had finished.

Philip flushed, he knew not why.

‘Oh, it’s awfully kind of you, but I don’t think I’ll do that.’

‘Why not?’

Philip did not answer. He had refused instinctively from fear that he would be a bother, and he had a natural bashfulness of accepting favours. He knew besides that the Athelnys lived from hand to mouth, and with their large family had neither space nor money to entertain a stranger.

‘Of course you must come here,’ said Athelny. ‘Thorpe will tuck in with one of his brothers and you can sleep in his bed. You don’t suppose your food’s going to make any difference to us.’

Philip was afraid to speak, and Athelny, going to the door, called his wife.

‘Betty,’ he said, when she came in, ‘Mr. Carey’s coming to live with us.’

‘Oh, that is nice,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and get the bed ready.’

She spoke in such a hearty, friendly tone, taking everything for granted, that Philip was deeply touched. He never expected people to be kind to him, and when they were it surprised and moved him. Now he could not prevent two large tears from rolling down his cheeks. The Athelnys discussed the arrangements and pretended not to notice to what a state his weakness had brought him. When Mrs. Athelny left them Philip leaned back in his chair, and looking out of the window laughed a little.

‘It’s not a very nice night to be out, is it?’