第 23 节
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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…