The ball made a new man of Denry. He had danced with the Countess – the first man to dance with her. Bursley thought he was a wonderful fellow, and so did Denry himself. He had always been a hopeful, cheerful kind of person. Now he was filled with happiness all the time, and when he got out of bed in the morning, he felt like singing and dancing. Something good was going to happen, he knew; he just had to wait. He didn't have to wait very long.
A few days after the ball, Mrs Codleyn came to see Mr Duncalf. Mrs Codleyn was a widow, a woman of nearly sixty. She owned about seventy small houses in Bursley, and Mr Duncalf collected the rents for her. (Denry, of course, actually went to the houses to get the money.) Although the rent from all these houses was about twelve pounds a week, Mrs Codleyn always said that it was not enough. And the taxes! Every year the taxes on those houses got higher and higher, and Mrs Codleyn hated paying her taxes.
Mr Duncalf was an important man at the Town Hall. Because of this, Mrs Codleyn thought that he should make the taxes lower on her houses. Mrs Codleyn had chosen Mr Duncalf to collect her rents because she thought he was an honest man – but an honest man would never try to change the taxes specially for one person. What strange ideas people have sometimes!
Mrs Codleyn had just heard that her taxes were going up again, but she did not stay long in Mr Duncalf's office. The conversation (which Denry listened to through the wall) was short, loud, and not very polite. When Mrs Codleyn left, Mr Duncalf called Denry into his office.
The conversation was short, loud, and not very polite.
Write this letter to Mrs Codleyn,' he said angrily. 'Madam, I understand from our conversation this morning that you prefer to find another lawyer...'
Denry wrote down the letter. As he was leaving the room, Mr Duncalf spoke again.
Machin!'
Denry knew what was coming. He had known it was coming ever since the ball.
Who invited you to the ball?'
There it was. A very difficult question.
I did, sir.' Denry just could not think of a lie.
Why?'
I thought perhaps you'd forgotten to, sir.'
I suppose you think you're a really fine fellow after your dance with the Countess?' Mr Duncalf said unpleasantly.
Yes,' said Denry. 'Do you?'
He had not meant to say it. The same little question had amused the Countess greatly, but it was true to say that it was not amusing his employer now. Mr Duncalf's own dance with the Countess had come to a very quick ending, because he had stepped heavily on her skirt.
You will leave my office at the end of the week,' said Mr Duncalf, coldly.
Oh, very well,' said Denry. And he said to himself: 'something good must happen now.' He had no idea what he would do next, but he was still cheerful. And he still had Harold Etches' five pounds.
The next morning both Mrs Codleyn and Denry were late for church. Mrs Codleyn was late by accident and also because she was fat. Denry was late because he had planned it that way. The two met at the church door.
Well, you're nice people, I must say!' Mrs Codleyn said to Denry. She meant Duncalf and all his office workers.
Nothing to do with me, you know!' said Denry.
I wish I could find someone else to collect my rents.'
I can still collect them for you, if you like,' said Denry.
You?'
I've told Duncalf I'm leaving him,' Denry said. 'The fact is, he and I don't agree on a lot of things.'
Mrs Codleyn looked at him and thought about it. He was just a young office worker, and his mother was a washer-woman. His suit was clean, but old and unfashionable.
And what's more,' Denry went on, 'I'll do the work for less money. You pay Duncalf ninety pence a week – well, I'll do it for sixty pence a week. And I'll collect them better than him. Give me a month and you'll see the difference!'
At the end of the week a notice appeared on the front door of Denry's mother's house, which said:
E. H. MACHIN
Rent Collector
In a few weeks, Denry was doing very well. He was working for himself, and in two days he earned more money than in a week with Mr Duncalf. He walked around the town, smiling, looking important, talking to other young men, and thinking of new ways of making money.
* * *
One Monday morning he went to Mrs Hullins' house to collect the rent. It was a very small house, not much more than one room downstairs and one room upstairs. The rent was fifteen pence a week, and the Widow Hullins had not paid any rent at all for some weeks. She had lived there all her life, and after two husbands and eleven children, she now lived alone. She had seen a lot of life, and was old and tired.
I've nothing for you,' she said when Denry came in.
That's not good enough, I'm afraid,' said Denry cheerfully. 'I'm not leaving until I get ten pence.'
It'll be a long wait. I'll have nothing until Saturday, when my son Jack starts a new job.'
I'm sorry,' said Denry kindly, 'but if you don't pay, you'll have to go. Mrs Codleyn will put you out in the street, you know. Why don't you go and live with one of your children?'
After some more conversation, Denry left the house, still smiling cheerfully. And then, two minutes later, he put his head round the door again.
Look here, mother,' he said, 'I'll lend you ten pence if you like. But you must pay me a penny a week for it. You must pay me back next week and give me eleven pence.'
I'll lend you ten pence if you like,' said Denry.
And he wrote down 'Ten pence, paid' in her rent book.
Eh, you're a funny fellow, Mr Machin,' said Mrs Hullins.
The next Monday, all the neighbours knew that Denry could be very helpful about problems with the rent. And Denry, with his cheerful, smiling face, saved many families from a life in the street. Of course, it was good business for him, too. If someone borrowed ten pence for four weeks, when they paid Denry back, they had to give him fourteen pence. If it was for six months, they had to pay him back thirty-six pence. Money made like this just grows and grows.
Denry began to think that he was different from other men. He had invited himself to the ball, danced with the Countess, left his job with Duncalf, taken Duncalf's rent-collecting, and then introduced the idea of collecting rents and lending money at the same time. He was becoming well-known in Bursley as an unusual and amusing fellow – in other words, a card.
But then the day came when Mrs Codleyn decided to sell some of her smaller houses. This was very bad news for Denry because these houses were the most important part of his business. Denry talked to her, and tried to show her that it was not a sensible idea, but it was no good. Finally, Denry said wildly that he would buy some of the houses himself.
I'll buy the Widow Hullins' house,' he said. 'I'll give you forty-five pounds for it.' It was all the money he had.
Mrs Codleyn agreed. And selling this one house, for the moment, seemed to be enough for her.
* * *
Denry was now a property owner. And he had also joined the Sports Club – the club for the rich, the fashionable, and the successful men of Bursley. It was a great thing for the son of a washer-woman to join a club like this.
On Denry's second visit to the club, he saw that some of the most important men in Bursley were there. A group of them were arguing in a corner of the comfortable bar.
Some of the poor people in this town live in the most terrible old houses,' said Charles Fearns, a lawyer. 'And the town just doesn't care about them. There's an old woman – Hullins is her name – who's lived in the same awful old house for fifty years. She pays fifteen pence a week rent for this place, and now she's going to be put out into the street because she can't pay.'
Who's the hard-hearted owner?' someone asked.
Mrs Codleyn,' said Fearns.
Mrs Codleyn isn't the owner,' called Denry, who was sitting at the next table, smiling. 'I am.'
Oh, I'm sorry,' said Fearns, 'I had no idea—'
Not at all!' said Denry. 'But what can I do? She can't pay, or doesn't want to pay. Do I let her live in the house for no rent because she's seventy? Come on, tell me. What do I do?'
Fearns would make her a present of the house!' a voice said laughing, and everybody else laughed too.
Well, that's what I'll do,' said Denry. 'I'll give her the house. That's the kind of hard-hearted owner I am.'
The room was silent for a moment.
I mean it!' said Denry, and picked up his glass. 'she can have the house! Good health to the Widow Hullins.'
And the next morning, everybody in Bursley was talking about it. 'I say, have you heard Machin's latest?'
He was now not just a card; he was the card.
tax n. money you pay to the Council, to pay for roads, hospitals etc 税
church n. the religious ceremonies in a church (教堂的)礼拜仪式
by accident in a way that is not planned or intended 偶然,意外地
unfashionable adj. not popular at the present time 过时的,不时髦的
difference n. something that makes one thing or person different from another thing or person 不同之处
earn v. to get money by working 挣(钱)
sensible adj. reasonable, practical and able to judge things well 明智的,通晓事理的
wildly adv. in an uncontrolled or unrestrained manner 失控地;极为激动地
property n. a building and the land around it 房地产
hard-hearted adj. not caring about other people's feelings 硬心肠的,没有同情心的
舞会之后,邓瑞像换了个人似的。他和伯爵夫人跳过舞——他是第一个和她跳舞的人。伯斯利人觉得他了不起,邓瑞自己也是这么想。他一直是个乐观快活的人。现在他时刻都充满了幸福感,早上一起床,他便想放声歌唱,翩翩起舞。有什么好事定要发生,他心里明白;他只要等着就是了。而且他不用等太久。
舞会结束几天后,科多林太太来找邓卡夫先生。科多林太太是个寡妇,年近六旬。她在伯斯利有大约70所小房子,邓卡夫先生帮她收租金。(当然,邓瑞才是真正上门收租的那个人。)尽管这些房子每周能给她带来大约12英镑的收入,科多林太太总是说这些收入不够多。还有那些税!房子要缴的税每年都在上涨,科多林太太痛恨缴税。
邓卡夫先生是镇公所里举足轻重的人物。因此,科多林太太认为他应该把她房子的税降一降。科多林太太选择邓卡夫先生作她的收租人,是因为她认为他是一个诚实的人——但一个诚实的人永远不会专门为某个人调整税收金额。人们的观念有时是多么奇怪啊!
科多林太太刚听说她的税又要涨了,但她在邓卡夫先生的办公室没呆多久。他们的对话(邓瑞隔着墙听到的)很简短,声音很大,并且言语不太客气。等科多林太太走了后,邓卡夫先生把邓瑞叫进了他的办公室。
“给科多林太太写封信。”他气呼呼地说,“夫人,据我们今早的谈话得悉您有意另觅一位律师……”
邓瑞照他口述写完了这封信。就在邓瑞准备离开房间时,邓卡夫先生又开口了:
“梅钦!”
邓瑞知道会发生什么。自舞会以来他就知道这一天总会到来的。
“谁邀请你去参加舞会的?”
果然如此。一个很难回答的问题。
“我自己,先生。”邓瑞想不出如何去扯个谎。
“为什么?”
“我想您大概忘了邀请我,先生。”
“我看你觉得自己跟伯爵夫人跳舞后就是个真正的上等人了,是吧?”邓卡夫先生不客气地说。
“是的。”邓瑞说,“您觉得呢?”
他本不想说这个。同样一个小小的问句能令伯爵夫人非常开心,但必须承认现在却不能逗乐他的老板。当时邓卡夫先生和伯爵夫人的舞很快就结束了,因为他重重地踩在了她裙子上。
“这周上完班你就不用来了。”邓卡夫先生冷冷地说。
“噢,好吧。”邓瑞说。他暗自思量:“一定有什么好事很快就会发生了。”他还不清楚接下来要做什么,但他依然满心快活。况且他还有哈罗德·埃切斯给他的五英镑。
第二天早上科多林太太和邓瑞做礼拜都迟到了。科多林太太迟到不光是出于偶然,还因为她胖。邓瑞迟到则是故意盘算好的。两人在教堂门口碰上了。
“嗯,你们可真是些体面人,我必须得这么说!”科多林太太对邓瑞说。她是指邓卡夫以及他事务所的所有员工。
“这跟我没有任何关系,你知道的!”邓瑞说。
“我希望能另找个人帮我收租。”
“要是你愿意的话,我仍然可以为你收租。”邓瑞说。
“你?”
“我已经跟邓卡夫说了,我不为他干活了。”邓瑞说,“事实上,我和他在很多事情上看法都不一致。”
科多林太太看着他,想了一会儿。他只是一个年纪轻轻的办事员,他母亲是个洗衣妇。他穿着干净的西装,但又旧又不时髦。
“还有,”邓瑞继续说,“我收费更低。你每周付给邓卡夫90便士——嗯,我一周只要60便士。我活儿也比他干得漂亮。给我一个月时间,你就知道区别了!”
周末,邓瑞母亲家的前门上挂出了一个告示,上面写着:
E. H. 梅钦
收租人
几周后,邓瑞就做得很不错了。他为自己打工,两天挣的钱比在邓卡夫先生那里一周挣的还多。他在镇上转悠,面带笑容,端着架子,与其他年轻人聊天,想着挣钱的新法子。
* * *
一个周一的早上,他去哈林斯太太家收租。那是一所很小的房子,就楼下一个房间、楼上一个房间。房租为一周15便士,哈林斯寡妇已经好几周没交房租了。她一辈子都住在那里,嫁过两任丈夫,生了11个孩子,而现在则独自生活。她饱经生活的风霜,如今已变得衰老而疲惫。
“我没钱给你。”邓瑞进来时她说道。
“这恐怕不行。”邓瑞欢快地说,“除非给我10便士,否则我不会走的。”
“那你得等很久。等到周六我儿子杰克开始新的工作后我才有钱。”
“我很抱歉,”邓瑞和善地说,“但您不交钱,就得搬走。科多林太太会把您赶到大街上去,这您是知道的。您为什么不搬去和您其中一个孩子住呢?”
二人又说了一会儿,然后邓瑞离开了这所房子,他依然快活地笑着。接着,两分钟后,他的脑袋又出现在了门口。
“听着,大娘,”他说,“要是您愿意,我可以借给您10便士。但您必须每周给我1便士的利息。您下周得把钱还给我,一共是11便士。”
接着他在她的租金簿上写下“10便士,付讫”。
“啊,你真是个有趣的小伙子,梅钦先生。”哈林斯寡妇说。
接下来的一个周一,所有邻居都知道了邓瑞十分乐意帮人解决租金问题。而一副快活笑脸的邓瑞使很多家庭免于露宿街头。当然,对于邓瑞来说这也是笔好生意。要是有人跟他借10便士四个星期后还,就得还给他14便士;要是借六个月,到时就得付给他36便士。邓瑞以这种方式挣的钱越来越多。
邓瑞开始觉得自己与众不同了。他曾邀请自己参加了舞会,和伯爵夫人跳了舞,炒了邓卡夫的鱿鱼,拿下了邓卡夫的收租业务,然后还发明了收租和放贷同时进行的做法。他在伯斯利渐渐出了名,大家把他看作一个非同寻常的有意思的家伙——换个说法,他便是一个传奇。
但是有一天,科多林太太打算卖掉一部分较小的房子。对邓瑞来说这是个大大的坏消息,因为这些房子是他的生意里最重要的一部分。邓瑞找她谈,试图说服她这样做不明智,可毫无用处。最后,邓瑞情绪激动地说他自己要买下其中的一些房子。
“我要买下哈林斯寡妇住的那所房子。”他说,“我出45英镑。”那是他的全部积蓄。
科多林太太同意了。眼下卖掉这一所房子对她来说似乎已经足够了。
* * *
邓瑞现在是个有房产的人了。他还加入了体育俱乐部——一个为伯斯利镇上富有、时髦、成功的男士开办的俱乐部。对一个洗衣妇的儿子来说,加入这样的一个俱乐部是件了不起的大事。
邓瑞第二次去俱乐部的时候,发现伯斯利的几位重要人物都在那里。那群人正呆在舒服的酒吧一角争论着什么。
“镇上有些穷人住在破陋不堪的老房子里。”一位名叫查尔斯·费恩斯的律师说,“政府根本不关心他们。有个老太太——名叫哈林斯——50年来一直住在一所破旧的老房子里。她要为这么一个住所每周花费15便士,现在她因为交不起房租要被赶到大街上。”
“那个铁石心肠的房主是谁啊?”有人问。
“科多林太太。”费恩斯说。
“科多林太太不是房主,”邓瑞大声说,他坐在隔壁桌上,面带笑容。“我才是。”
“哦,对不起,”费恩斯说,“我不知道——”
“不要紧!”邓瑞说,“可我能做什么呢?她交不起房租,或许是不想交。就因为她70岁了我就得让她免费住在那所房子里吗?好吧,告诉我,我该怎么做?”
“费恩斯会把那所房子作为礼物送给她!”一个人笑着说。其他人也都笑了。
“好吧,那正是我打算要做的。”邓瑞说,“我要把房子送给她。我就是那种铁石心肠的房主。”
房间里的人沉默了片刻。
“我是说真的!”邓瑞说,然后举起酒杯,“房子是她的了!祝哈林斯寡妇身体健康!”
第二天早晨,伯斯利镇上的每个人都在谈论这件事。“喂,你听没听说梅钦的最新消息?”
现在他不再是一个传奇,他就是那个传奇。