第 23 节
作者:绝对零度      更新:2022-11-28 19:15      字数:9322
  even tickle。     Who can say?        Nobody who died that way ever came back
  to say。〃
  He considered this last an excruciating joke; and permitted himself to
  be   convulsed   with   laughter   for   half   a   minute。   Part   of   his   mirth   was
  assumed; but he considered it his humane duty to cheer up the Chinago。
  〃But I tell you I am Ah Cho;〃 the other persisted。              〃I don't want my
  head cut off。〃
  Cruchot scowled。        The Chinago was carrying the foolishness too far。
  〃I am not Ah Chow〃 Ah Cho began。
  〃That   will   do;〃   the   gendarme   interrupted。   He   puffed   up   his   cheeks
  and strove to appear fierce。
  〃I tell you I am not〃 Ah Cho began again。
  〃Shut up!〃 bawled Cruchot。
  After   that   they  rode   along   in  silence。    It  was   twenty    miles   from
  Papeete to Atimaono; and over half the distance was covered by the time
  the Chinago again ventured into speech。
  〃I saw you in the court room; when the honourable judge sought after
  our guilt;〃 he began。       〃Very good。      And do you remember that Ah Chow;
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  whose head is to be cut offdo you remember that heAh Chowwas a
  tall man? Look at me。〃
  He stood up suddenly; and Cruchot saw that he was a short man。                      And
  just   as   suddenly   Cruchot   caught   a   glimpse   of   a   memory   picture   of   Ah
  Chow;      and   in  that   picture   Ah    Chow     was   tall。  To    the   gendarme      all
  Chinagos looked alike。 One face was like another。                   But between tallness
  and shortness he could differentiate; and he knew that he had the wrong
  man beside him on the seat。            He pulled up the mules abruptly; so that the
  pole shot ahead of them; elevating their collars。
  〃You see; it was a mistake;〃 said Ah Cho; smiling pleasantly。
  But Cruchot was thinking。            Already he regretted that he had stopped
  the wagon。       He was unaware of the error of the Chief Justice; and he had
  no   way   of   working   it   out;   but   he   did   know   that   he   had   been   given   this
  Chinago   to   take   to   Atimaono   and   that   it   was   his   duty   to   take   him   to
  Atimaono。        What if he was the wrong man and they cut his head off?                    It
  was only a Chinago when all was said; and what was a Chinago; anyway?
  Besides; it might not be a mistake。            He did not know what went on in the
  minds of his superiors。         They knew their business best。             Who was he to
  do their thinking for them?           Once; in the long ago; he had attempted to
  think   for   them;   and   the   sergeant   had   said:    〃Cruchot;   you   are   a   fool?
  The  quicker  you   know  that;   the  better  you   will get   on。        You   are  not   to
  think; you are to obey and leave thinking to your betters。〃                    He smarted
  under   the   recollection。      Also;   if   he   turned   back   to   Papeete;   he   would
  delay the execution at Atimaono; and if he were wrong in turning back; he
  would get a reprimand from the sergeant who was waiting for the prisoner。
  And; furthermore; he would get a reprimand at Papeete as well。
  He touched the mules with the whip and drove on。                    He looked at his
  watch。   He   would   be   half   an   hour   late   as   it   was;   and   the   sergeant   was
  bound to be   angry。        He put   the   mules into   a   faster trot。     The   more Ah
  Cho     persisted    in  explaining     the   mistake;    the   more    stubborn     Cruchot
  became。       The   knowledge   that   he   had   the   wrong   man   did   not   make   his
  temper   better。      The   knowledge   that   it   was   through   no   mistake   of   his
  confirmed   him  in   the   belief   that   the   wrong   he   was   doing   was   the   right。
  And; rather than incur the displeasure of the sergeant; he would willingly
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  have assisted a dozen wrong Chinagos to their doom。
  As for Ah Cho; after the gendarme had struck him over the head with
  the butt of the whip and commanded him in a loud voice to shut up; there
  remained nothing for him to do but to shut up。                The long ride continued
  in   silence。    Ah   Cho   pondered   the   strange   ways   of   the   foreign   devils。
  There was no explaining them。            What they were doing with him was of a
  piece with everything they did。          First they found guilty five innocent men;
  and next they cut off the head of the man that even they; in their benighted
  ignorance;      had   deemed      meritorious     of   no   more    than   twenty     years'
  imprisonment。        And there was nothing he could do。               He could only sit
  idly and take what these lords of life measured out to him。                 Once; he got
  in a panic; and the sweat upon his body turned cold; but he fought his way
  out of it。    He endeavoured to resign himself to his fate by remembering
  and repeating certain passages from the 〃Yin Chih Wen〃 (〃The Tract of the
  Quiet Way〃); but; instead; he kept seeing his dream…garden of meditation
  and repose。      This bothered him; until he abandoned himself to the dream
  and   sat   in   his   garden   listening   to   the   tinkling   of   the   windbells   in   the
  several trees。     And lo! sitting thus; in the dream; he was able to remember
  and repeat the passages from 〃The Tract of the Quiet Way。〃
  So the time passed nicely until Atimaono was reached and the mules
  trotted   up   to   the   foot   of   the   scaffold;   in   the   shade   of   which   stood   the
  impatient   sergeant。      Ah   Cho   was   hurried   up   the   ladder   of   the   scaffold。
  Beneath him on one side he saw assembled all the coolies of the plantation。
  Schemmer had decided that the event would be a good object…lesson; and
  so   he   called   in   the   coolies   from   the   fields   and   compelled   them   to   be
  present。     As they caught sight of Ah Cho they gabbled among themselves
  in   low   voices。    They   saw   the   mistake;   but   they   kept   it   to   themselves。
  The     inexplicable     white   devils   had    doubtlessly     changed     their  minds。
  Instead of taking the life of one innocent man; they were taking the life of
  another innocent man。          Ah Chow or Ah Chowhat did it matter which?
  They   could   never   understand   the   white   dogs   any   more   than   could   the
  white dogs understand them。           Ah Cho was going to have his head cut off;
  but they; when their two remaining years of servitude were up; were going
  back to China。
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  Schemmer   had   made   the   guillotine   himself。        He   was   a   handy   man;
  and    though    he   had   never    seen   a  guillotine;   the   French    officials  had
  explained   the   principle   to   him。   It   was   on   his   suggestion   that   they   had
  ordered   the   execution   to   take   place   at   Atimaono   instead   of   at   Papeete。
  The scene of the crime; Schemmer had argued; was the best possible place
  for   the   punishment;   and;   in   addition;   it   would   have   a   salutary   influence
  upon the half…thousand Chinagos on the plantation。                 Schemmer had also
  volunteered to act as executioner; and in that capacity he was now on the
  scaffold; experimenting with the instrument he had made。                  A banana tree;
  of the size and consistency of a man's neck; lay under the guillotine。                  Ah
  Cho watched with fascinated eyes。              The German; turning a small crank;
  hoisted the blade to the top of the little derrick he had rigged。             A jerk on a
  stout   piece   of   cord   loosed   the   blade   and   it   dropped   with   a   flash;   neatly
  severing the banana trunk。
  〃How does it work?〃           The sergeant; coming out on top the scaffold;
  had asked the question。
  〃Beautifully;〃 was Schemmer's exultant answer。                〃Let me show you。〃
  Again he turned the crank that hoisted the blade; jerked the cord; and
  sent the blade crashing down on the soft tree。               But this time it went no
  more than two…thirds of the way through。
  The sergeant scowled。         〃That will not serve;〃 he said。
  Schemmer   wiped   the   sweat   from   his   forehead。         〃What   it   needs   is
  more weight;〃 he announced。            Walking up to the edge of the scaffold; he
  called his orders to the blacksmith for a twenty…five…