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双语·灼人的秘密 沉默

所属教程:译林版·一个陌生女人的来信:茨威格中短篇小说选

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2022年04月27日

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Edgar henceforward felt easy. His heart was overflowing with one undivided emotion: hatred, open enmity. He was now absolutely single-minded. Since he knew that his presence was irksome, he took a voluptuous pleasure in sticking to them like a leech. His energies were concentrated upon making their lives a burden to them. The baron was the first to feel the boy’s fangs.

Next morning, when Sternfeldt passed through the lounge throwing a friendly “Good morning, Eddie” to the child, the latter did not look up but muttered a cold, hard “Good morning” in return.

“Mother down yet?”

Edgar remained buried in the newspaper. “Don’t know,” he said carelessly.

The baron was surprised. What could this mean?

“Slept badly, Eddie?” he asked, facetiously.

“No,” answered the boy curtly, and buried his head still deeper in the periodical.

“Silly young ass,” murmured Otto, shrugging, and passing on his way.

War had been declared.

Towards his mother Edgar behaved with exaggerated politeness. A suggestion that it would be good for his health to play a game of tennis was courteously thrust aside. A fixed and rather bitter smile showed that he was no longer to be duped by such ruses. With assumed friendliness he remarked: “I’d rather go for a walk with you and Baron von Sternfeldt, Mummy.”

He glanced up at her as he spoke, and noticed her embarrassment. At length she said:

“Wait for me here,” and passed into the dining-room where breakfast was served for her.

He waited; but as he waited mistrust grew stronger within him. At last he decided to go outside where he could keep the front door under observation and all the other exits likewise. His instinct told him his enemies were likely to betray him again, and he was determined not to be caught napping. Books on Red Indians had taught him how to take cover, and he crept behind a wood-pile. He chuckled contentedly when, half an hour later his mother came stealthily out of one of the side with a superb bunch of red roses in her hand, and, close at her heels, the baron, the traitor.

Both appeared to be in fine fettle, to be enjoying the fact that they had given Edgar the slip, and could now relish their secret together, without the boy’s watchful eye perpetually upon them.

The moment had come for the young spy to act. He sauntered along the path towards the hotel as if he had not observed them, pretending he was engrossed in the bushes and birds, giving them ample time to compose their features after their initial surprise. Very deliberately the child drew nearer, and, when a few yards away, lifted mocking eyes towards them. Frau Blumental was the first to recover.

“Ah, there you are at last, Edgar. We’ve been hunting for you all over the place.”

“What a whopper,” thought the boy, as the lie slid easily off her tongue. But he kept himself in hand, and drew a veil over the intensity of his hate. They stood in a bunch, not knowing what to do next, each watching the other.

“Well, we’d better be starting,” said the woman, nervously plucking the head off one of the beautiful roses. Her sensitive nostrils quivered, and Edgar knew this was a sign that she was angry. The boy did not move. He continued to gaze indifferently aloft, into the blue firmament. At length they passed onward down the path, and he followed. One more endeavour on the baron’s part.

“There’s a tennis tournament this afternoon, Eddie. Don’t you want to be there?”

The boy looked at his interlocutor with unconcealed disgust, and did not deign to answer. He pursed up his lips as if about to whistle.

His presence weighed upon the two elders. They walked like convicts under guard. The child said nothing and did nothing, and yet his presence became more and more irksome as the minutes went by. He repelled their advances, their essays at conciliation. His eyelids stung with suppressed tears, his lips were drawn and sullen. Suddenly, feeling she could bear this furtive observation no longer, the mother ordered Edgar to go on in front.

“I can’t stand your dogging my steps like this. It makes me nervous.”

Obediently, the boy took the lead, but every once in a while he looked back to see if they were following, and would wait for them to catch up with him if they dawdled on the way.

His obstinate silence poisoned any pleasure they had hoped to derive from this stroll, and his hostile eyes dried up the words on their lips. Baron Otto von Sternfeldt did not venture to woo, and it was with impotent fury that he sensed the woman slipping from his grasp as the passion he had been at such pains to evoke cooled under the observation of this nerve-racking and detestable child. Every time they started to converse they became tongue-tied. In the end, the trio wandered aimlessly through the forest, wrapped in a shroud of silence, while the trees rustled above their heads and the sound of their own footsteps beat upon the air. The boy had successfully wet-blanketed their conversation.

A malevolent spirit had taken up its abode in the heart of each one of them. But the child was armed and invulnerable; he took a wild delight in the fact that he, whom they despised, remained unscathed by their wrath. It was sheer delight to see how mortified the baron was, how he resented such treatment. Edgar could guess the tenor of the curses that lay unuttered upon the man’s lips; he knew that his mother’s temper rising; he realized that they would have given almost anything to fall upon him tooth and nail, to get rid of him by hook or by crook. But he gave them no occasion to treat him harshly, behaving civilly, walking sedately before them. His hatred had reckoned upon hours of this martyrdom, and he was determined not to yield an iota of his advantage.

“let’s go back,” said Frau Blumental at last, exasperated, feeling she would have to scream if the tension continued.

“What a pity,” rejoined her son placidly, “It’s such a lovely afternoon.”

Both the elders noted that the lad was making fun of them. But neither dared a rebuke, for the youngster’s outward conduct was exemplary. In two days he had acquired a self-mastery beyond his years. Not a sign could be read upon that tender face...Without further discussion the trio made their way home. Alone in their suite, mother and son let fall the mask of reserve. She threw down her sunshade and gloves in a pet, thus revealing to Edgar’s watchful eyes that her nerves were on edge and that her emotions craved an outlet. Nothing better, thought the boy, than that she should give way to her exasperation. In order to provoke her he remained fidgeting about in her room. She walked feverishly to and fro, sat down, drummed with her fingers on the table, sprang to her feet again.

“How untidy your hair is,” she scolded. “Your hands are grubbywash them at once. It’s disgusting to go about in such a state. A boy of your age, too; aren’t you ashamed?”

Edgar grinned as he betook himself to the bathroom. “She can’t stand my being with her,” he reflected maliciously.

He knew now that they were frightened of him and his relentless eyes, that they dreaded the moment when the three of them were forced to share one another’s company. Proportionally as they grew uneasy, the boy grew happy and content. They were defenceless against the child’s tactics. Sternfeldt, still hoping to gain his end, was furious,and determined to pay the boy back at the first suitable opportunity. Frau Blumental was fast losing control. It was a relief to her feelings to rebuke Edgar and find fault at every turn. “Don’t fidget with your spoon,” she would say at table. “Where are your manners? You are not fit to take your meals among grown-ups.”

The boy grinned, and continued to grin with his head a little to one side. He knew well enough what lay behind such reproofs, and was proud at having provoked them. His expression was as calm and collected as that of a doctor by a patient’s bedside. Hate is an excellent master for teaching the young self-discipline. A day or two ago Edgar would have made scenes under such trying circumstances. Now he kept silent and always silent, until they both squirmed under his silence.

The meal over, Frau Blumental got up, and Edgar prepared to follow her in the most natural way in the world. She turned on him with the irritation of a horse pestered with flies, and said vehemently:

“Why do you cling to me in this silly fashion as if you were a baby of three? I don’t want you constantly hanging around, d’you hear? Children should not always be with their elders. Go and amuse yourself on your own for a bit. Read, or do anything else you have a fancy for, but for heaven’s sake leave me in peace. I’m fed up with you and your stupid, tiresome ways.”

So he had got her to speak frankly at last! Edgar continued to grin, whereas the baron and she seemed at a loss. The woman turned her back, furious with herself for having given the show away to the child, while Edgar said complacently:

“Dad does not wish me to wander about here alone. Dad made me promise to be careful and to stick by you.”

The word “Dad” seemed to exercise a paralysing effect upon the couple, and Edgar, therefore, took a fresh delight in stressing it. His father, he felt, must also have a place in this burning secret, must wield power over the twain from a distance, otherwise why should they look so distressed at the mere mention of his name. Without deigning to answer, the woman led the way from the dining-room. The baron followed. The boy brought up the rear, not humbly as an inferior, but with the air of a warder, hard, severe, ruthless. In fancy he held them on a chain whose links he could hear rattling and which was indestructible. Hate had steeled his childish strength. He, the innocent, was more invulnerable than they who were under the ban of their secret.

埃德加内心的骚动业已过去。他终于享有了一种纯粹的、明净的感情:仇恨和公开的敌视。他现在确信自己是他俩的障碍。因此跟他俩待在一起就成了他的一种复杂得出奇的乐趣。他觉得破坏他们,用他积聚起来的全副力量去反对他们,是一件赏心悦目的快事。他先是对男爵表露出他的愠怒。早上男爵下楼遇见他时,亲切地向他打招呼说:“早晨好,埃狄。”埃德加坐在靠背椅上纹丝不动,连眼睛都没抬一下,只是咕哝一下,生硬地回了他一句:“好。”“妈妈下来了吗?”埃德加两眼看着报纸说:“我不知道。”

男爵感到惊愕。这一下子怎么啦?“埃狄,怎么啦?没睡好觉?”他本想像往常那样开个玩笑来缓和一下空气,可是埃德加依然轻蔑地冲口回了一个“不”字,随即又埋头看他的报纸。“蠢孩子。”男爵自言自语地喃喃说,耸耸肩膀,走开了,敌意已经公开了。

埃德加也以冷漠和彬彬有礼的态度对待他妈妈。一次她想打发他去网球场玩,对这样一个拙劣的企图,他平静地拒绝了。由于愤恨而轻轻滑动的冷笑紧贴在他的嘴唇上闪现出来,这表明他不再受骗了。“我宁愿跟你们一块去散步,妈妈。”他说这话带着一种虚假的亲热,并紧紧盯住她的两只眼睛。对她说来,这个回答显然是不受欢迎的。她迟疑了片刻,像是寻找什么东西似的。终于她打定了主意,说:“在这儿等我。”于是就去用早点。

埃德加等待着。不信任感在他脑子里折腾着,忐忑不安地直感到他们的每句话里都能搜寻出一种秘密的、敌视的意图。现在这种猜疑经常能使他做出一种具有奇异洞察力的决断。妈妈要他在前厅里等,但他不在那里等,而宁愿站在马路上,那里不只能监视大门,而且能监视所有的门道。他心里有某种预感,觉得妈妈耍了个骗局。这下他俩可再也溜不掉了。像在讲印第安人故事的书里学到的那样,他躲在马路旁的一堆木料后面。大约半个小时之后,他看到他妈妈真的从一个侧门出来了,手里拿着一束绚丽的玫瑰花,后面跟着男爵,那个叛徒。这时他满意地笑了。

两个人兴高采烈。他俩避开了他,光是为了自己的秘密,就可以舒口气了吗?他俩谈笑风生,正准备折向通往林中的小径。

现在是时候了,埃德加不慌不忙地,做得像是偶然到这里来似的,从木料后面踱了出来。他非常镇定地向他俩走来,以便有时间,有许多时间来充分欣赏他俩的惊诧表情。两个人一怔,交换一下惊奇的眼光。这孩子慢慢地,带着一种泰然的神情向他们走去,他那嘲弄的目光紧盯着他们。“啊,你在这儿,埃狄,我们在里面找过你了。”母亲终于开口说。“她撒谎撒得多不要脸啊!”孩子心里想,但是他的嘴唇却一动不动,把仇恨的秘密掩藏在牙齿的后面。

三个人犹豫不决地站在那儿,一个窥伺着另一个。“那我们走吧。”这个恼火的女人沮丧地说,顺手撕碎了一朵最鲜艳的玫瑰花。她的鼻翼在轻轻地翕动,这就暴露了她的愠怒。埃德加站在那里,仿佛这与他毫无关系,他望着蓝天,等待着。他俩要走的时候,他准备跟随他们,男爵又做了一次努力。他说:“今天有网球联赛,你看过没有?”埃德加轻蔑地望了他一眼,对他根本就不予理睬,只是翘翘嘴唇,像是要吹口哨似的。这就是他的答复,明亮的牙齿显示了他的仇恨。

孩子突如其来的出现,像梦魇似的纠缠着两个人。罪犯跟在看守后面走着,暗暗攥紧了拳头。其实孩子并没有做什么,可是他俩却每分钟都无法忍受他那窥视的目光。孩子的眼睛里噙着愤怒的泪水,含着深深的阴郁,它对任何接近的尝试都愤怒地加以摈斥。“离远一点!”突然母亲狂怒地说道。孩子不断地偷听他们的谈话使她烦躁不安。“别老在我跟前跳来跳去,把人烦死了!”埃德加顺从地走开了,但是每走一两步就回过头来,一看到他俩落在后面,他就停在那儿等待着,像条黑狗用他那靡非斯特的目光,纵横上下地织成一个仇恨的火网。他俩感到已被火网套住,无法脱身。

孩子恶狠狠的沉默像一种强酸腐蚀了他俩的兴致,他的目光使他们的谈话一到唇边就变得索然无味。男爵再也不敢说一句挑逗的话了,他愤怒地感觉到这个女人要从手上滑掉,她那好不容易才点燃的热情由于害怕这个令人厌恶的孩子又冷淡下来了。他俩总想设法交谈,却总是谈不下去。末了他们三人都默不作声,无精打采地走着,只听到树木摇曳碰撞发出的低语和他们自己扫兴的脚步声。这孩子把他俩的谈话窒息了。

现在三个人心里都充满了一触即发的敌意。这个被出卖的孩子快乐地感到,他们的愤怒完全抵御不住他的被蔑视的存在,但他却咬牙含恨地等着他们发作。他不时用狡黠的嘲弄的目光打量着男爵那气冲冲的面孔。他看到在男爵牙缝中滚动着骂人的话,而又不得不抑制自己,以免骂出口来。他同时也怀着一种魔鬼般的乐趣注意到他母亲的怒火正在呼呼上升;他看出他俩在寻找机会,向他扑过来,把他推倒,或者使他不能再妨碍他们。但是他不给他们这样的机会,他对自己的仇恨做了长时间的筹划,使它没有任何破绽可寻,没有任何漏洞可钻。

“我们回去吧!”他母亲突然说道。她觉得无法再控制自己了,她准会做出什么事来,至少会在这种刑罚下喊叫起来。“多可惜,”埃德加平静地说,“这儿多美啊。”

他俩知道孩子在嘲弄他们。但是他俩什么也不敢说。这暴君在两天之内如此出色地学会了控制自己,不动声色,毫不泄露这是恶意的揶揄。他们一声不响地在漫长的路上往回走。当房间里只剩下母亲和孩子两人时,她仍然激怒不已。她悻悻地把阳伞和手套掷在一旁。埃德加立刻注意到她的神经在激动,火气需要发泄,但是他希望这次爆发,因此故意留在房间里,以便激怒她。她来回走动,又坐了下来,用手指敲弹着桌子,随后又跳了起来。“看你的头发乱成什么样子!你脏得太不像话了,这样子见人简直是丢脸。这么大了你不知道羞耻?”孩子一句顶撞的话也没说,走到一边去梳头。这种沉默,这固执而冷漠的沉默以及跳动在嘴唇上的嘲弄简直把她气得发狂,她真想狠狠地揍他一顿。“回自己房里去!”她冲着他叫了起来。埃德加微微一笑,随即走了出去。

现在她和男爵,他们两人见到孩子就发抖,在每次会面的时间,对孩子那无情而冷酷的目光都感到恐惧!他俩越是感到不自在,孩子的眼睛里就越是焕发出欢愉的光泽,他的喜悦就越有一种挑衅的味道。埃德加现在几乎在用孩子们野兽般的残忍来折磨这对毫无抵御能力的人。男爵倒还能够压住他的怒火,因为他一直希望这是孩子的恶作剧,他只想着自己的目的。可是她,这个做妈妈的却一再控制不了自己。她觉得冲他大喊大叫一通自己会感到轻松些。“别玩弄叉子!”在餐桌上她冲着他喊叫起来,“你是个没教养的丑八怪,你还不配和大人坐在一起。”埃德加仅是微微一笑,把头稍微歪向一边。他知道这喊叫意味着绝望。看到她如此不加掩饰,他感到骄傲。他现在的目光非常镇定,镇定得像医生的目光。前段时间,为了惹他们生气,或许他是恶狠狠的,但人们在仇恨中学得很多、很快,现在他只是沉默!沉默!沉默!直到她在他沉默的压力下开始长吁短叹。

他母亲再也无法忍受了。现在当他们吃完饭站了起来,埃德加又以这种不言自明的神态准备尾随他们时,她一下子就发作了。她一切都不顾了,吐出了真话。她被他不时的窥视弄得坐卧不安,像一匹被牛虻折磨的马一样暴跳了起来。“你像三岁孩子那样老是跟着我转悠干什么?我不要你老待在我跟前。孩子不要老缠着大人。记住!自己一个人去待一小时。看看书,或者随便干点什么。让我安静安静!你老在我身边溜来溜去,那副讨厌的样子,真让人烦死了。”

终于把她的供词逼出来了!男爵和她这时显得十分尴尬,而埃德加却莞尔一笑。她转过身想走了。她对自己感到生气,刚才怎么好对孩子泄露自己不愉快的心情呢?但是埃德加只是冷冷地说:“爸爸不让我一个人在这儿转来转去。我已经答应爸爸了,在这儿处处小心,要跟在您身边。”

他强调“爸爸”两个字,因为他早就注意到这两个字对他们两人有着某种使他们瘫痪的神秘作用。他父亲同这种炽热的秘密也准有某种瓜葛。爸爸一定具有某种支配他俩的隐秘的、他不知道的力量。因为一提到爸爸,好像就会使他俩感到恐惧和不快,就是这次,他们也未作反抗。他们放下了武器。母亲先走了,男爵也随后离去。在他俩之后是埃德加,但他不像仆人那样畏葸,而像一名看守那样强硬、严峻和无情。他抖动着无形的锁住他俩的铁链,他们摇晃着,但无法挣脱掉。仇恨锻炼了他那孩子式的力量。他,一个无知的人,却远比那两个被秘密铐住双手的人更为强大。

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