第 13 节
作者:月寒      更新:2024-04-14 09:15      字数:9321
  packed   jury   would   sentence   it   to   cremation。   They   planned   also   to   hang
  Doctor Gilman in effigy。 The effigy with a rope round its neck was even
  then awaiting mob violence。 It was complete to the silver…white beard and
  the gold spectacles。 But Peter squashed both demonstrations。 He did not
  know Doctor Gilman had been forced to resign; but he protested that the
  horse…play  of   his   friends   would   make   him  appear   a bad loser。  〃It   would
  look; boys;〃 he said; 〃as though I couldn't take my medicine。 Looks like
  kicking against the umpire's decision。 Old Gilman fought fair。 He gave me
  just what was coming to me。 I think a darn sight more of him than do of
  that bunch of boot…lickers that had the colossal nerve to pretend I scored
  fifty!〃
  Doctor   Gilman   sat   in   his   cottage   that stood   the   edge of   the   campus;
  gazing   at   a   plaster   bust   of   Socrates   which   he   did   not   see。   Since   that
  morning he had ceased to sit in the chair of history at Stillwater College。
  They were retrenching; the  chancellor had told him curtly; cutting   down
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  unnecessary       expenses;     for  even    in  his   anger    Doctor    Black    was    too
  intelligent to hint at his real motive; and the professor was far too innocent
  of evil; far too detached from college politics to suspect。 He would remain
  a   professor   emeritus   on   half   pay;   but   he   no   longer   would     teach。  The
  college   he    had   served    for  thirty   years…since    it  consisted   of   two   brick
  buildings and a faculty of ten young menno longer needed him。 Even his
  ivy…covered cottage; in which his wife and he had lived for twenty years;
  in which their one child had died; would at the beginning of the next term
  be required of him。 But the college would allow him those six months in
  which to 〃look round。〃 So; just outside the circle of light from his student
  lamp;   he   sat   in   his   study;   and   stared   with   unseeing   eyes   at   the   bust   of
  Socrates。   He   was   not   considering   ways   and   means。 They   must   be   faced
  later。 He was considering how he could possibly break the blow to his wife。
  What      eviction    from    that  house    would     mean     to  her   no   one   but   he
  understood。 Since the day their little girl had died; nothing in the room that
  had been her playroom; bedroom; and nursery had been altered; nothing
  had   been   touched。 To   his   wife;   somewhere   in   the   house  that   wonderful;
  God…given child was still with them。 Not as a memory but as a real and
  living presence。 When at night the professor and his wife sat at either end
  of the study table; reading by the same lamp; he would see her suddenly
  lift her head; alert and eager; as though from the nursery floor a step had
  sounded; as though from the darkness a sleepy voice had called her。 And
  when   they   would   be   forced   to   move   to   lodgings   in   the   town;   to   some
  students'  boarding…house;  though   they  could   take   with them  their   books;
  their furniture; their mutual love and comradeship; they must leave behind
  them the haunting presence of the child; the colored pictures she had cut
  from   the   Christmas   numbers   and   plastered   over   the   nursery   walls;   the
  rambler   roses   that   with   her   own   hands   she   had   planted   and   that   now
  climbed to her window and each summer peered into her empty room。
  Outside     Doctor    Gilman's     cottage;   among     the   trees  of   the  campus;
  paper lanterns like oranges aglow were swaying in the evening breeze。 In
  front of Hallowell the flame of a bonfire shot to the top of the tallest elms;
  and gathered in a circle round it the glee club sang; and cheer succeeded
  cheer…cheers   for     the   heroes    of  the  cinder   track;   for  the   heroes   of  the
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  diamond and the gridiron ; cheers for the men who had flunked especially
  for one man who had flunked。 But for that man who for thirty years in the
  class    room     had    served    the    college    there   were     no   cheers。    No    one
  remembered him; except the one student who had best reason to remember
  him。    But    this  recollection     Peter   had   no   rancor    or  bitterness    and;   still
  anxious lest he should be considered a bad loser; he wished Doctor Gilman
  a every one else to know that。 So when the celebration was at its height
  and just before train was due to carry him from Stillwater; ran across the
  campus   to      the   Gilman   cottage   say   good…by。   But   he   did   not   enter      the
  cottage     He   went    so   far  only   as  half…way   up     the   garden    walk。    In  the
  window   of   the   study   which   opened   upon   the   veranda   he   saw   through
  frame   of   honeysuckles   the   professor   and   wife   standing   beside   the   study
  table。 They were clinging to each other; the woman weep silently with her
  cheek on his shoulder; thin; delicate; well…bred hands clasping arms; while
  the man comforted her awkward unhappily; with hopeless; futile caresses。
  Peter;   shocked   and   miserable   at   what   he   had   seen;   backed   steadily
  away。 What disaster had befallen the old couple he could not imagine。 The
  idea   that   he   himself   might   in   any   way   connected   with   their   grief   never
  entered mind。 He was certain only that; whatever the trouble was; it was
  something   so   intimate   and   personal   that   no   mere   outsider   might   dare   to
  offer his sympathy。 So on tiptoe he retreated down the garden walk and;
  avoiding   the   celebration   at   the   bonfire;   returned   to   his   rooms。  An   hour
  later the entire college escorted him to the railroad station; and with 〃He's
  a   jolly   good   fellow〃   and     〃He's   off   to   Philippopolis   in   the   morning〃
  ringing in his ears; he sank back his seat in the smoking…car and gazed at
  the lights of Stillwater disappearing out of his life。 And he was surprised to
  find that what lingered his mind was not the students; dancing like Indians
  round the bonfire; or at the steps of the smoking…car fighting to shake his
  hand; but the man and woman alone in the cottage stricken with sudden
  sorrow;   standing   like   two   children   lost   in   the   streets;   who   cling   to   each
  other for comfort and at the same moment whisper words of courage。
  Two      months     Later;   at   Constantinople;       Peter;   was    suffering     from
  remorse   over   neglected opportunities;  from  prickly  heat;  and   from  fleas。
  And it not been for the moving…picture man; and the poker and baccarat at
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  the Cercle Oriental; he would have flung himself into the Bosphorus。 In
  the   mornings   with   the   tutor   he   read   ancient   history;   which   he   promptly
  forgot; and for the rest of the hot; dreary day with the moving… picture man
  through the bazaars and along the water…front he stalked suspects for the
  camera。
  The name of the moving…picture man was Harry Stetson。 He had been
  a   newspaper   reporter;   a   press…agent;   and   an   actor   in   vaudeville   and   in   a
  moving…picture company。  Now on   his   own account   he was   preparing   an
  illustrated   lecture   on   the   East;   adapted   to   churches   and   Sunday…schools。
  Peter and he wrote it in collaboration; and in the evenings rehearsed it with
  lantern   slides   before   an   audience   of   the   hotel   clerk;   the   tutor;   and   the
  German soldier of fortune who was trying to sell the young Turks very old
  battleships。     Every     other   foreigner     had   fled   the   city;  and    the   entire
  diplomatic corps had removed itself to the summer capital at Therapia。
  There Stimson; the first secretary of the embassy and; in the absence of
  the   ambassador;      CHARGE         D'AFFAIRES;         invited   Peter   to  become     his
  guest。 Stimson was most anxious to be polite to Peter; for Hallowell senior
  was     a  power     in  the   party   then   in  office;   and    a  word    from    him    at
  Washington in   favor of   a rising   young diplomat   would do no harm。  But
  Peter was afraid his father would consider Therapia 〃out of bounds。〃
  〃He sent me to Constantinople;〃 explained Peter; 〃and if he thinks I'm
  not playing the game the Lord only knows where he might send me next…
  and he might cut off my allowance。〃
  In the matter of allowance Peter's father had been most generous。 This