第 45 节
作者:猫王      更新:2021-02-27 00:40      字数:9322
  rusty   hull   with   paint。    It  was    a  situation   that  must    have   appealed     to
  Strickland's     sardonic     humour。     I   asked    Captain    Nichols    how    he   bore
  himself during these hardships。
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  〃Never knew him say a cross word;〃 answered the Captain。 〃He'd be a
  bit surly sometimes; but when we hadn't had a bite since morning; and we
  hadn't even got the price of a lie down at the Chink's; he'd be as lively as a
  cricket。〃
  I   was   not   surprised    at  this。  Strickland      was   just   the  man    to  rise
  superior      to   circumstances;       when     they    were     such    as   to   occasion
  despondency in most; but whether this was due to equanimity of soul or to
  contradictoriness it would be difficult to say。
  The Chink's Head was a name the beach…combers gave to a wretched
  inn off the Rue Bouterie; kept by a one…eyed Chinaman; where for six sous
  you   could   sleep   in   a   cot   and   for   three   on   the   floor。 Here   they   made
  friends with others in as desperate condition as themselves; and when they
  were   penniless   and   the   night   was   bitter   cold;   they   were   glad   to   borrow
  from anyone who had earned a stray franc during the day the price of a
  roof over their heads。        They were not niggardly; these tramps; and he who
  had money did not hesitate to share it among the rest。                  They belonged to
  all the countries in the world; but this was no bar to good…fellowship; for
  they felt themselves freemen of a country whose frontiers include them all;
  the great country of Cockaine。
  〃But I guess Strickland was an ugly customer when he was roused;〃
  said   Captain   Nichols;   reflectively。      〃One   day  we   ran   into Tough   Bill   in
  the Place; and he asked Charlie for the papers he'd given him。〃
  〃‘You'd better come and take them if you want them;' says Charlie。
  〃He was a powerful fellow; Tough Bill; but he didn't quite like the look
  of   Charlie;   so   he   began   cursing   him。    He   called   him   pretty   near   every
  name he could lay hands on; and when Tough Bill began cursing it was
  worth   listening   to   him。   Well;   Charlie   stuck   it   for   a   bit;   then   he   stepped
  forward and he just said:          ‘Get out; you bloody swine。' It wasn't so much
  what   he   said;   but   the   way   he   said   it。 Tough   Bill   never   spoke   another
  word;     you   could    see  him   go    yellow;   and   he   walked     away   as   if  he'd
  remembered he had a date。〃
  Strickland; according to Captain Nichols; did not use exactly the words
  I   have   given;   but   since   this   book   is   meant   for   family   reading   I   have
  thought it better; at the expense of truth; to put into his mouth expressions
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  familiar to the domestic circle。
  Now;  Tough   Bill   was   not   the   man   to   put   up   with   humiliation   at   the
  hands of a common sailor。            His power depended on his prestige; and first
  one; then another; of the sailors who lived in his house told them that he
  had sworn to do Strickland in。
  One   night   Captain   Nichols   and   Strickland   were  sitting   in   one   of   the
  bars of the   Rue   Bouterie。        The   Rue   Bouterie   is   a narrow   street   of one…
  storeyed houses; each house consisting of but one room; they are like the
  booths in   a   crowded   fair   or   the   cages of   animals   in   a   circus。   At   every
  door you see a woman。 Some lean lazily against the side…posts; humming
  to   themselves   or   calling   to   the   passer…by   in   a   raucous   voice;   and   some
  listlessly  read。     They  are   French。       Italian;   Spanish; Japanese;   coloured;
  some are fat and some are thin; and under the thick paint on their faces;
  the heavy smears on their eyebrows; and the scarlet of their lips; you see
  the lines of age and the scars of dissipation。              Some wear black shifts and
  flesh…coloured stockings;   some   with curly  hair;  dyed yellow;  are   dressed
  like   little   girls in   short  muslin   frocks。 Through   the   open   door   you   see   a
  red…tiled floor; a large wooden bed; and on a deal table a ewer and a basin。
  A motley crowd saunters along the streets  Lascars off a P。 and O。; blond
  Northmen from a Swedish barque; Japanese from a man…of…war; English
  sailors; Spaniards; pleasant…looking fellows from a French cruiser; negroes
  off an American tramp。            By day it is merely sordid; but at night; lit only
  by   the   lamps     in  the  little  huts;   the  street   has   a  sinister  beauty。     The
  hideous lust that pervades the air is oppressive and horrible; and yet there
  is something mysterious in the sight which haunts and troubles you。                        You
  feel I know not what primitive force which repels and yet fascinates you。
  Here   all   the   decencies   of   civilisation   are   swept   away;   and   you   feel   that
  men are face to face with a sombre reality。              There is an atmosphere that is
  at once intense and tragic。
  In the bar in which Strickland and Nichols sat a mechanical piano was
  loudly grinding out dance music。              Round the room people were sitting at
  table;    here   half   a  dozen    sailors   uproariously      drunk;    there   a  group    of
  soldiers;     and   in  the   middle;    crowded      together;    couples    were    dancing。
  Bearded   sailors   with   brown   faces   and   large   horny   hands   clasped   their
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  partners in a tight embrace。          The women wore nothing but a shift。 Now
  and   then   two   sailors   would   get   up   and   dance   together。   The   noise   was
  deafening。      People   were   singing;   shouting;   laughing;   and   when   a   man
  gave a long kiss to the girl sitting on his knees; cat…calls from the English
  sailors increased the din。         The air was heavy with the dust beaten up by
  the   heavy   boots   of   the   men;   and   gray   with   smoke。      It   was   very   hot。
  Behind   the   bar   was   seated   a   woman   nursing   her   baby。   The   waiter;   an
  undersized youth with a flat; spotty face; hurried to and fro carrying a tray
  laden with glasses of beer。
  In a little while Tough Bill; accompanied by two huge negroes; came
  in; and it was easy to see that he was already three parts drunk。                   He was
  looking   for   trouble。    He   lurched   against   a   table   at   which   three   soldiers
  were     sitting  and   knocked     over   a  glass   of  beer。   There     was    an  angry
  altercation; and the owner of the bar stepped forward and ordered Tough
  Bill   to   go。   He   was   a   hefty   fellow;   in   the   habit   of   standing   no   nonsense
  from   his   customers;   and   Tough   Bill   hesitated。      The   landlord   was   not   a
  man he cared to tackle; for the police were on his side; and with an oath he
  turned on his heel。        Suddenly he caught sight of Strickland。               He rolled
  up to him。       He   did   not speak。  He   gathered   the spittle   in his   mouth   and
  spat full in Strickland's face。         Strickland seized his glass and flung it at
  him。     The     dancers    stopped    suddenly     still。  There     was    an   instant   of
  complete silence; but when Tough Bill threw himself on Strickland the lust
  of battle seized them all; and in a moment there was a confused scrimmage。
  Tables   were     overturned;   glasses      crashed    to   the  ground。    There    was    a
  hellish    row。    The     women     scattered    to   the  door    and   behind    the   bar。
  Passers…by surged in from the street。             You heard curses in every tongue
  the sound of blows; cries; and in the middle of the room a dozen men were
  fighting     with   all  their  might。   On    a  sudden    the   police   rushed    in;  and
  everyone who could made for the door。                 When the bar was more or less
  cleared; Tough Bill was lying insensible on the floor with a great gash in
  his head。     Captain Nichols dragged Strickland; bleeding from a wound in
  his arm; his clothes in rags; into the street。 His own face was covered with
  blood from a blow on the nose。
  〃I guess you'd better get out of Marseilles before Tough Bill comes out
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  of hospital;〃 he said to Strickland; w