雙語·夜色溫柔 第一篇 第十章

The trouble began at the time Earl Brady’s car passed the Divers’ car stopped on the road—Abe’s account melted impersonally into the thronged night—Violet McKisco was telling Mrs. Abrams something she had found out about the Divers—she had gone upstairs in their house and she had come upon something there which had made a great impression on her. But Tommy is a watch-dog about the Divers. As a matter of fact she is inspiring and formidable—but it’s a mutual thing, and the fact of The Divers together is more important to their friends than many of them realize. Of course it’s done at a certain sacrifice—sometimes they seem just rather charming figures in a ballet, and worth just the attention you give a ballet, but it’s more than that—you’d have to know the story. Anyhow Tommy is one of those men that Dick’s passed along to Nicole and when Mrs. McKisco kept hinting at her story, he called them on it. He said:

“Mrs. McKisco, please don’t talk further about Mrs. Diver.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she objected.

“I think it’s better to leave them out.”

“Are they so sacred?”

“Leave them out. Talk about something else.”

He was sitting on one of the two little seats beside Campion. Campion told me the story.

“Well, you’re pretty high-handed,” Violet came back.

You know how conversations are in cars late at night, some people murmuring and some not caring, giving up after the party, or bored or asleep. Well, none of them knew just what happened until the car stopped and Barban cried in a voice that shook everybody, a voice for cavalry.

“Do you want to step out here—we’re only a mile from the hotel and you can walk it or I’ll drag you there. You’ve got to shut up and shut your wife up!”

“You’re a bully,” said McKisco. “You know you’re stronger muscularly than I am. But I’m not afraid of you—what they ought to have is the code duello—”

There’s where he made his mistake because Tommy, being French, leaned over and clapped him one, and then the chauffeur drove on. That was where you passed them. Then the women began. That was still the state of things when the car got to the hotel.

Tommy telephoned some man in Cannes to act as second and McKisco said he wasn’t going to be seconded by Campion, who wasn’t crazy for the job anyhow, so he telephoned me not to say anything but to come right down. Violet McKisco collapsed and Mrs. Abrams took her to her room and gave her a bromide whereupon she fell comfortably asleep on the bed. When I got there I tried to argue with Tommy but the latter wouldn’t accept anything short of an apology and McKisco rather spunkily wouldn’t give it.

When Abe had finished Rosemary asked thoughtfully:

“Do the Divers know it was about them?”

“No—and they’re not ever going to know they had anything to do with it. That damn Campion had no business talking to you about it, but since he did—I told the chauffeur I’d get out the old musical saw if he opened his mouth about it. This fight’s between two men—what Tommy needs is a good war.”

“I hope the Divers don’t find out,” Rosemary said.

Abe peered at his watch.

“I’ve got to go up and see McKisco—do you want to come?—he feels sort of friendless—I bet he hasn’t slept.”

Rosemary had a vision of the desperate vigil that high-strung, badly organized man had probably kept. After a moment balanced between pity and repugnance she agreed, and full of morning energy, bounced upstairs beside Abe.

McKisco was sitting on his bed with his alcoholic combativeness vanished, in spite of the glass of champagne in his hand. He seemed very puny and cross and white. Evidently he had been writing and drinking all night. He stared confusedly at Abe and Rosemary and asked:

“Is it time?”

“No, not for half an hour.”

The table was covered with papers which he assembled with some difficulty into a long letter; the writing on the last pages was very large and illegible. In the delicate light of electric lamps fading, he scrawled his name at the bottom, crammed it into an envelope and handed it to Abe. “For my wife.”

“You better souse your head in cold water,” Abe suggested.

“You think I’d better?” inquired McKisco doubtfully. “I don’t want to get too sober.”

“Well, you look terrible now.”

Obediently McKisco went into the bathroom.

“I’m leaving everything in an awful mess,” he called. “I don’t know how Violet will get back to America. I don’t carry any insurance. I never got around to it.”

“Don’t talk nonsense, you’ll be right here eating breakfast in an hour.”

“Sure, I know.” He came back with his hair wet and looked at Rosemary as if he saw her for the first time. Suddenly tears stood in his eyes. “I never have finished my novel. That’s what makes me so sore. You don’t like me,” he said to Rosemary, “but that can’t be helped. I’m primarily a literary man.” He made a vague discouraged sound and shook his head helplessly. “I’ve made lots of mistakes in my life—many of them. But I’ve been one of the most prominent—in some ways—”

He gave this up and puffed at a dead cigarette.

“I do like you,” said Rosemary, “but I don’t think you ought to fight a duel.”

“Yeah, I should have tried to beat him up, but it’s done now. I’ve let myself be drawn into something that I had no right to be. I have a very violent temper—” He looked closely at Abe as if he expected the statement to be challenged. Then with an aghast laugh he raised the cold cigarette butt toward his mouth. His breathing quickened.

“The trouble was I suggested the duel—if Violet had only kept her mouth shut I could have fixed it. Of course even now I can just leave, or sit back and laugh at the whole thing—but I don’t think Violet would ever respect me again.”

“Yes, she would,” said Rosemary. “She’d respect you more.”

“No—you don’t know Violet. She’s very hard when she gets an advantage over you. We’ve been married twelve years, we had a little girl seven years old and she died and after that you know how it is. We both played around on the side a little, nothing serious but drifting apart—she called me a coward out there tonight.”

Troubled, Rosemary didn’t answer.

“Well, we’ll see there’s as little damage done as possible,”said Abe. He opened the leather case. “These are Barban’s duelling pistols—I borrowed them so you could get familiar with them. He carries them in his suitcase.” He weighed one of the archaic weapons in his hand. Rosemary gave an exclamation of uneasiness and McKisco looked at the pistols anxiously.

“Well—it isn’t as if we were going to stand up and pot each other with forty-fives,” he said.

“I don’t know,” said Abe cruelly;“the idea is you can sight better along a long barrel.”

“How about distance?” asked McKisco.

“I’ve inquired about that. If one or the other parties has to be definitely eliminated they make it eight paces, if they’re just good and sore it’s twenty paces, and if it’s only to vindicate their honor it’s forty paces. His second agreed with me to make it forty.”

“That’s good.”

“There’s a wonderful duel in a novel of Pushkin’s,” recollected Abe.“Each man stood on the edge of a precipice, so if he was hit at all he was done for.”

This seemed very remote and academic to McKisco, who stared at him and said, “What?”

“Do you want to take a quick dip and freshen up?”

“No—no, I couldn t swim.” He sighed. “I don’t see what it’s all about,” he said helplessly. “I don’t see why I’m doing it.”

It was the first thing he had ever done in his life. Actually he was one of those for whom the sensual world does not exist, and faced with a concrete fact he brought to it a vast surprise.

“We might as well be going,” said Abe, seeing him fail a little.

“All right.” He drank off a stiff drink of brandy, put the flask in his pocket, and said with almost a savage air:“What’ll happen if I kill him—will they throw me in jail?”

“I’ll run you over the Italian border.”

He glanced at Rosemary—and then said apologetically to Abe:

“Before we start there’s one thing I’d like to see you about alone.”

“I hope neither of you gets hurt,” Rosemary said. “I think it’s very foolish and you ought to try to stop it.”

阿貝開始用局外人的語氣講述昨晚發(fā)生的事情。當(dāng)時，戴弗家的那輛車在半路停了下來，而這場風(fēng)波就起于厄爾·布雷迪的車超過去的那一時刻。那時，維奧莉特·米基思科在向艾布拉姆斯夫人透露一個她意外發(fā)現(xiàn)的有關(guān)戴弗夫婦的秘密，她說她到他們家樓上后，結(jié)果看見了一幅情景，讓她印象很深。湯米·巴爾班是戴弗家的看門狗，自然就出面干涉了。其實，維奧莉特講的事情讓人既興奮又后怕。這種感覺是眾人都有的。朋友們誰不希望戴弗夫婦能和和睦睦的，戴弗夫婦甚至比他們意識到的還要重要??？當(dāng)然，這種和睦是有代價的。有時候，他們兩口子就像芭蕾舞劇中光彩照人的角色，吸足了人的眼球，誰知背后有多少隱情。幕后的故事最應(yīng)該了解！不管怎么說吧，迪克把一些男人引薦給自己的妻子尼科爾，而湯米就是當(dāng)中的一個。米基思科夫人一個勁兒說她要講出真情時，難怪湯米會出面阻撓。當(dāng)時只聽湯米說道：“米基思科夫人，請不要再議論戴弗夫人了。”

“我又沒有跟你說話。”維奧莉特頂了他一句。

“我想最好別再說他們的閑話了?！?/p>

“他們就這么神圣嗎？”

“別去議論他們。說點別的什么吧?！?/p>

阿貝說湯米坐在坎皮恩邊上的一個位子上，具體情況還是坎皮恩告訴他的。

“嗬，你管得可真寬。”維奧莉特回敬道。

誰都知道深夜乘車是怎么一種情狀——聚會過后大家都是一副懶散的樣子，有的竊竊私語，有的對什么都不聞不問，或無聊乏味，或昏昏欲睡。所以，當(dāng)汽車停下來，巴爾班大聲吼叫時，大家嚇了一跳，不知出了什么事。只聽他吆喝道，聲音高得就像在命令騎兵沖鋒陷陣：“這兒離旅館只有一英里遠(yuǎn)，你們可以走回去。你們是想自己下車，還是想讓我把你們拖下車？要不然就閉上你的臭嘴，讓你的老婆也閉嘴，米基思科！”

“你是個惡棍?！泵谆伎普f，“你以為你肌肉發(fā)達(dá)我就怕你？可我不怕！不行咱們就決斗見分曉……”

他漏嘴說出的這句話正中湯米的下懷，因為湯米是個法國人。只見湯米欠過身去，拍了一下他的肩膀，就算把這件事敲定了。隨后，司機繼續(xù)把車往前開。你們的車就是在這個時候超了過去。后來，兩個女人又開始嘰嘰喳喳地說話，一直到旅館都沒有停。

湯米打電話給戛納的一個朋友，讓他做副手。米基思科說他不打算請坎皮恩做他的副手，因為坎皮恩對這種事不會太熱心，所以他打電話給阿貝，電話里什么也沒說，只是讓阿貝馬上過來。維奧莉特·米基思科垮了下來，艾布拉姆斯夫人把她帶到自己的房間，給她服了安眠藥，于是她就安安靜靜地在床上睡著了。阿貝一到旅館就設(shè)法同湯米交涉，但湯米堅持讓米基思科道歉，其他一概免談。而米基思科像茅坑里的石頭一樣又臭又硬，死都不肯道歉。

等到阿貝把這件事情的來龍去脈講完之后，羅斯瑪麗若有所思地問道：“戴弗夫婦知道有人在為他們決斗嗎？”

“不知道……他們永遠(yuǎn)也不會知道此事與他們有關(guān)聯(lián)?？财ざ髡婵蓯?，不該跟你說起這事，但他還是講了……我倒是叮嚀過司機，說如果他不嚴(yán)把口風(fēng)，我就用我的舊樂鋸把他鋸成兩半。決斗是兩個人之間的生死之戰(zhàn)，容不得別人瞎摻和。湯米需要的是一次公平的決斗！”

“但愿不要讓戴弗夫婦知道才好?！绷_斯瑪麗說。

阿貝瞧了瞧他的手表說：“我要上樓去看一下米基思科。你想一道去嗎？他覺得自己缺少朋友，沒人關(guān)心他……我敢說他一夜沒合眼?！?/p>

羅斯瑪麗想象得出：米基思科一定精神緊張、心情絕望，苦苦掙扎著熬了一夜。她對那個人既同情又厭惡，略微猶豫了一下便同意一起去了，隨即便帶著清晨的那股活力，腳步輕盈地跟在阿貝身旁上樓去了。

米基思科坐在床上，雖然手里還端著一杯香檳酒，但是靠酒精激發(fā)出來的那種斗狠的勁兒已蕩然無存了，他看上去虛弱不堪，神情痛苦，臉色蒼白。顯而易見，他徹夜未眠，一直在寫東西和喝酒，此時看見阿貝和羅斯瑪麗，便一臉茫然地問道：“到時間了嗎？”

“沒到，還有半小時?！?/p>

桌子上攤滿了紙?？吹贸鏊撕艽蟮木υ趯懸环忾L信。最后幾頁紙上的字寫得很大，很潦草。這時，借著漸漸暗下來的電燈光線，他在信尾簽上自己的名字，把信塞進信封，然后交給阿貝說：“請把這封信轉(zhuǎn)交給我妻子?！?/p>

“你最好去用涼水沖一下頭?！卑⒇惤ㄗh道。

“你覺得沖過會好一些嗎？”米基思科遲疑地問，“其實我并不想讓大腦太清醒?！?/p>

“唉，你現(xiàn)在的臉色太難看了?！?/p>

米基思科只好乖乖地走進浴室沖頭去了。在浴室里，他大聲說道：“我把事情攪得亂成了一鍋粥。真不知道維奧莉特怎樣才能順順當(dāng)當(dāng)回美國去。我沒有買任何保險，哪里知道會遇到這種事情?！?/p>

“別說喪氣的話。一個小時后，你一定能平安回來，照常吃你的早餐！”阿貝說。

“我相信會這樣的?！泵谆伎普f著走出了浴室，頭發(fā)濕漉漉的，然后盯著羅斯瑪麗看了看，仿佛這才剛看到她一樣，他的眼眶突然變濕了?！拔业男≌f還沒有寫完呢，叫我感到痛心的就是這個。你不喜歡我，”他沖著羅斯瑪麗說道，“這我也沒辦法，誰叫我是個窮酸文人呢?！彼?、沮喪地感嘆一番，無奈地?fù)u著頭。“我栽過很多跟頭，犯過許多錯誤，但再怎么說我也算躋身于名人之列了。”

說到這里，他打住了話頭，把已經(jīng)熄滅的紙煙又吸了幾口。

“我倒是喜歡你，只是覺得你不該跟人決斗。”羅斯瑪麗說。

“不錯，原本揍他一頓出出氣就得了，可現(xiàn)在開弓沒有回頭箭了。都怪我一怒之下做了一件本不該做的事情。我這個人是個火爆脾氣……”他用眼睛緊盯住阿貝，仿佛在等著阿貝對此提出質(zhì)疑。隨后苦笑一聲，將早已熄滅的煙蒂舉到嘴邊，呼哧呼哧喘著粗氣，“麻煩在于決斗是我提出的……當(dāng)時維奧莉特要是不再嘮叨，我是不會提出決斗的。當(dāng)然，即使現(xiàn)在也不晚——我可以一走了之，或者置之不理，付之一笑。可是，這樣一來，維奧莉特恐怕再也不會敬重我了?！?/p>

“會敬重你的，而且會更加敬重你?！绷_斯瑪麗說。

“不會的，你是不了解維奧莉特。她一旦占了上風(fēng)，就會騎在你脖子上撒尿。我們結(jié)婚十二年了，有過一個女兒，七歲時死了，以后的日子有多么糟糕可想而知。我們兩個都有過一些私情，都只不過是逢場作戲罷了，可是我們的感情卻疏遠(yuǎn)了。昨天夜里她還罵我是個膽小鬼呢。”

羅斯瑪麗心里為他感到難過，但沒有吱聲。

“事已至此，咱們還是看看怎樣才能把危險程度降到最低吧?！卑⒇愓f著，打開了一只皮箱，“這里面是巴爾班決斗用的手槍，我借來讓你熟悉一下。他把這些手槍裝在旅行箱里一直隨身帶著?！彼贸鲆话牙鲜绞謽專嗔说喾至俊?/p>

羅斯瑪麗見了心驚肉跳，不由叫出了聲。米基思科焦慮不安地看了看箱子里的槍，問道：“到時候是不是叫我們各站一處，用這種四五口徑的手槍對射？”

“這還不清楚?！卑⒇惱淅涞卣f，“依我看，用長管手槍瞄得更準(zhǔn)?！?/p>

“距離是多遠(yuǎn)？”米基思科問。

“這個我問過。如果是你死我活的決斗，雙方的距離是八步遠(yuǎn)；如果是為了了結(jié)小小的恩怨，距離是二十步遠(yuǎn)；如果僅僅是為了榮譽而戰(zhàn)，距離是四十步遠(yuǎn)。我提出把距離定為四十步，他的副手表示同意?！?/p>

“很好?！泵谆伎普f。

“普希金的小說中寫過一場精彩的決斗，”阿貝回憶說，“決斗雙方都站在懸崖邊上，一旦中槍就墜崖而死?！?/p>

米基思科覺得那樣的決斗離他太遙遠(yuǎn)，太書卷氣。他用凝重的目光望著阿貝問道：“現(xiàn)在做什么？”

“你要不要下水游一會兒泳，振作一下精神？”

“不了，不了，我不會游泳?！彼麌@了口氣?！罢娌幻靼走@是怎么回事，”他無奈地說，“我簡直鬼迷心竅，竟然要去決斗！”

這種事他平生第一遭遇上。實際上，他這種人耽于虛幻世界，一旦遇到鐵一般的殘酷現(xiàn)實，便驚訝得手忙腳亂。

“咱們該走了。”阿貝見他有點氣餒，便催促了一聲。

“好吧?！泵谆伎泼偷毓嗔艘豢诎滋m地，把酒瓶揣到口袋里，帶著幾乎是兇狠的神情問，“要是我萬一打死了他，他們會把我投進監(jiān)獄嗎？”

“我會幫你越過邊界，到意大利去的?！卑⒇愓f。

米基思科掃了一眼羅斯瑪麗，隨后帶著歉意對阿貝說：“走之前，我還想單獨同你談點兒事?！?/p>

“你們兩個傷著誰我都不希望，”羅斯瑪麗臨離開時說，“這場決斗愚蠢透頂，真應(yīng)該想辦法阻止才對?！?/p>