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第三章 越过荒野  

2016-03-01 10:27:29|  分类: 译著 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

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第三章  越过荒野

【美】弗朗西丝·霍奇森·伯内特 

                                     熊良銋 

 

她睡了很长一段时间,当她醒来时,梅德洛克太太已经从一个车站买来了篮子装的份饭。她们吃了些鸡肉、冷牛肉、黄油面包,又喝了些热茶。雨似乎比方才下得更大了,车站上的每一个人都穿着湿漉漉、亮闪闪的雨衣。列车员点燃了车厢里的灯,梅德洛克太太喝了茶,吃了鸡肉和牛肉以后,情绪好了很多。她吃了许多东西,吃完后就睡着了。玛丽坐在那儿凝视着她,观看着她那顶细呢帽子慢慢地歪斜到一边,不断敲打车窗的雨声成了她的催眠曲,于是,她自己也在车厢的一角又一次睡着了。当她再次醒来时,天色已经完全黑了。火车在一个站里停了下来,梅德洛克太太正在摇晃着她。

你已经睡了一大觉了!她说道。也该睁开眼睛啦!我们到了斯威特站了,我们前面还要坐马车赶长路呢。

玛丽站了起来,尽力睁开眼睛,而梅德洛克太太在收拾她的行李了。那小女孩没有主动帮忙的意思,因为在印度,收拾和搬运东西都是土著仆人的事,让别人伺候是很正常的。

这是个小车站,除了她们之外,似乎就没有别人下车了。站长用粗嗓门很和善地跟莫得劳克太太打招呼,那口音有点儿怪,地方音特浓,后来玛丽才发现那是约克郡的乡音。

俺瞧您回来咯,他说道。还把小丫带回来咯。

 “啊吔,正是她咯,梅德洛克太太答道,也说起约克郡方言来了,还把头朝肩膀后面的玛丽点了点。您太太好咯?

 “好着咯。恁马车在外头等您咯。

在外边的小站台前,果然停着一辆轿式马车。玛丽看到那是一辆漂亮的马车,扶她上车的那个男仆也挺帅气。他身上的长雨衣和帽子上的雨盖都是亮闪闪的,还在往下滴水。这里的一切,包括身材魁梧的站长,都是水淋淋的。

那男仆关好车门,上车和车夫一起坐好后,他们就启程了。小女孩发现自己坐在一个有靠垫挺舒服的角落里,不过她不打算再睡了。她坐在那儿看着窗外,好奇地看着一路上所经过的一切,思量着这条路正带着她前往梅德洛克太太说过的那个古怪地方。她决不是一个胆小怕事的孩子,也没有真的被吓着了,只不过她想象不到,在一幢有一百个房间而且几乎全都上了锁房间的大宅子里,一幢座落在荒野边上的老宅子,会发生些什么。

什么是荒野?她突然对梅德洛克太太说道。

眼睛往窗外看,大约十分钟后,你就能看到了,那个女人答道。我们得在米瑟尔荒野上穿行五英哩,才能到达庄园。在这漆黑的夜晚,你不可能看得很清楚,不过多少你还是能看到一些的。

玛丽没再多问,只是坐在漆黑的角落里等候着,眼睛望着窗外。马车灯在她们前面不多远的地方投下暗淡的光线,让她能瞥见沿路掠过去的一些景物。离开火车站后,马车驶过了一个小村子,她看到了几处粉刷成白色的农舍,还有一家小旅馆的灯光。而后,马车又经过了一座教堂,一幢牧师住宅,以及一家小店铺,店铺橱窗里摆着玩具、糖果和一些日用杂货出售。接下去,马车就上了公路,她看到了篱笆和树林。这以后,有好长一段时间,至少她觉得时间好长,似乎就没有什么变化了。

终于,马儿开始放慢脚步,好象是在爬坡了,过了一会儿,似乎再也没有篱笆和树林了。实际上,除了两边浓浓的黑幕之外,她什么都看不见了。她身子前倾,把脸贴在玻璃窗上,正在这时,马车猛地颠簸了一下。

嗯!我们现在必定是来到荒野了。梅德洛克太太说道。

马车昏黄的灯光照射着崎岖不平的路面,这条路似乎是从灌木丛和乱草窝中开辟出来的,那些草木一直在往外延伸,淹没在四周无边无际的黑暗之中。这时起了风,发出了非同寻常猛烈而低沉的呼啸声。

那儿,那不是大海,是吗?玛丽转过脸去看着她的旅伴,问道。

不是,不是的咯,梅德洛克太太答道。也不是田地,也不是山岗,那是一眼看不到边的荒地,账面除了石楠、荆豆和金雀花,别的什么也不长,除了野马驹和野绵羊,别的动物都无法生存。

我倒觉得那可能是大海,要是那儿有水的话,玛丽说道。刚才那声音听着就象大海。

那是风刮过灌木丛发出的声响,梅德洛克太太说道。在我看来,那是个极其荒凉极其乏味的地方,不过也有许多人喜欢它,特别是石楠开花的时候。

她们在黑夜里继续赶路,雨虽然停住,风却一阵阵呼啸而过,发出怪里怪气的声音。这条路高低起伏,马车驶过了好几座小桥,桥下水流很急,发出巨大的轰鸣。玛丽觉得这路程似乎没有尽头了,那广阔苍凉的荒野真的成了一片无边黑暗的汪洋大海,而她正在沿着其中的一条狭长的陆地上砥砺前行。

我不喜欢这儿,她自言自语地说道。我就不喜欢这儿。她的那两片薄嘴唇抿得更紧了。

马车在翻过一段上坡路后,他才又看到了灯光。梅德洛克太太也同时看到了,如释重负地长长舒了一口气。

噢,我真高兴,总算是看到那一点子光在闪咯,她大声喊叫了起来。那是门房窗孔的灯光。不管怎样,再过一会儿,我们可以喝到一杯杯热茶了。

的确如她所说的要再过一会儿,因为马车进了公园大门后,还有两英哩长的林荫道要走,道路两边的大树顶处的枝叶几乎连起来了,他们走着,犹如在穿越一条长长的黑暗的拱形隧道。

她们的马车驶出了拱形隧道,来到一片开阔的空地,停在一幢不高但长得出奇的房屋前,这房屋似乎是围着一个石院子而建成。起初,玛丽还以为所有的窗户里都不会有灯光的,但是下了马车后,她发现二楼角边有一个房间透出了朦胧的微光。

宅子的正门很大,是用厚重的形状新奇的橡木板做成,上面装饰着一颗颗大铁钉,还镶嵌有一根根大铁条。开门进去,是一个极其宽敞的厅堂,里面的灯光十分昏暗,使得玛丽不愿去看一眼墙上那些巨幅画像的脸和身穿盔甲的骑士像。她站在石板地上时,显得是那么渺小、那么奇特的一个小黑影,而且她也觉得自己确实很渺小,失落,怪异。

在为他们开门的男仆身边,站着一位整洁瘦小的老人。

 “你就带她去她自己的房间好了,他声音沙哑地说道。他不想见她。他明天早晨要去伦敦。

这很好,皮切尔先生,梅德洛克太太答道。要我做什么,只要你吩咐,我都会照办的。

要你做到的,梅德洛克太太,皮切尔先生说道。是千万别去打扰他,凡是他不想看到的,就千万别让他看到。

于是玛丽·楞诺克斯被领着去她的房间,上了一段宽阔的楼梯,穿过一条长长的走廊,又上了一小截台阶,又穿过一个走廊,再穿过一个走廊,来到了开在墙上的一扇门前,进入房间后她发现里面已经生好炉火,桌子上也摆好了晚餐。

梅德洛克太太松了一口气,就随随便便说道:

好咯,你到家咯!这个房间和隔壁的那间都归你住,你必须待在这里面。可得给我记住了!

就这样,玛丽小姐来到了米瑟尔斯威特庄园,恐怕她这辈子从来没有觉得象现在这么憋屈。

 

 

附录:原文

 

Chapter 3  Across the Moor

Written byFrances Hodgson Burnett

Translated by Liangren Xiong

 

She slept a long time, and when she awakened Mrs. Medlock had bought a lunchbasket at one of the stations and they had some chicken and cold beef and bread and butter and some hot tea. The rain seemed to be streaming down more heavily than ever and everybody in the station wore wet and glistening waterproofs. The guard lighted the lamps in the carriage, and Mrs. Medlock cheered up very much over her tea and chicken and beef. She ate a great deal and afterward fell asleep herself, and Mary sat and stared at her and watched her fine bonnet slip on one side until she herself fell asleep once more in the corner of the carriage, lulled by the splashing of the rain against the windows. It was quite dark when she awakened again. The train had stopped at a station and Mrs. Medlock was shaking her.

"You have had a sleep!" she said. "It's time to open your eyes! We're at Thwaite Station and we've got a long drive before us."

Mary stood up and tried to keep her eyes open while Mrs. Medlock collected her parcels. The little girl did not offer to help her, because in India native servants always picked up or carried things and it seemed quite proper that other people should wait on one.

The station was a small one and nobody but themselves seemed to be getting out of the train. The station-master spoke to Mrs. Medlock in a rough, good-natured way, pronouncing his words in a queer broad fashion which Mary found out afterward was Yorkshire.

"I see tha's got back," he said. "An' tha's browt th' young 'un with thee."

"Aye, that's her," answered Mrs. Medlock, speaking with a Yorkshire accent herself and jerking her head over her shoulder toward Mary. "How's thy Missus?"

"Well enow. Th' carriage is waitin' outside for thee."

A brougham stood on the road before the little outside platform. Mary saw that it was a smart carriage and that it was a smart footman who helped her in. His long waterproof coat and the waterproof covering of his hat were shining and dripping with rain as everything was, the burly station-master included.

When he shut the door, mounted the box with the coachman, and they drove off, the little girl found herself seated in a comfortably cushioned corner, but she was not inclined to go to sleep again. She sat and looked out of the window, curious to see something of the road over which she was being driven to the queer place Mrs. Medlock had spoken of. She was not at all a timid child and she was not exactly frightened, but she felt that there was no knowing what might happen in a house with a hundred rooms nearly all shut up—a house standing on the edge of a moor.

"What is a moor?" she said suddenly to Mrs. Medlock.

"Look out of the window in about ten minutes and you'll see," the woman answered. "We've got to drive five miles across Missel Moor before we get to the Manor. You won't see much because it's a dark night, but you can see something."

Mary asked no more questions but waited in the darkness of her corner, keeping her eyes on the window. The carriage lamps cast rays of light a little distance ahead of them and she caught glimpses of the things they passed. After they had left the station they had driven through a tiny village and she had seen whitewashed cottages and the lights of a public house. Then they had passed a church and a vicarage and a little shop-window or so in a cottage with toys and sweets and odd things set out for sale.

Then they were on the highroad and she saw hedges and trees. After that there seemed nothing different for a long time—or at least it seemed a long time to her.

At last the horses began to go more slowly, as if they were climbing up-hill, and presently there seemed to be no more hedges and no more trees. She could see nothing, in fact, but a dense darkness on either side. She leaned forward and pressed her face against the window just as the carriage gave a big jolt.

"Eh! We're on the moor now sure enough," said Mrs. Medlock.

The carriage lamps shed a yellow light on a rough-looking road which seemed to be cut through bushes and low growing things which ended in the great expanse of dark apparently spread out before and around them. A wind was rising and making a singular, wild, low, rushing sound.

"It's—it's not the sea, is it?" said Mary, looking round at her companion.

"No, not it," answered Mrs. Medlock. "Nor it isn't fields nor mountains, it's just miles and miles and miles of wild land that nothing grows on but heather and gorse and broom, and nothing lives on but wild ponies and sheep."

"I feel as if it might be the sea, if there were water on it," said Mary. "It sounds like the sea just now."

"That's the wind blowing through the bushes," Mrs. Medlock said. "It's a wild, dreary enough place to my mind, though there's plenty that likes it—particularly when the heather's in bloom."

On and on they drove through the darkness, and though the rain stopped, the wind rushed by and whistled and made strange sounds. The road went up and down, and several times the carriage passed over a little bridge beneath which water rushed very fast with a great deal of noise. Mary felt as if the drive would never come to an end and that the wide, bleak moor was a wide expanse of black ocean through which she was passing on a strip of dry land.

"I don't like it," she said to herself. "I don't like it," and she pinched her thin lips more tightly together.

The horses were climbing up a hilly piece of road when she first caught sight of a light. Mrs. Medlock saw it as soon as she did and drew a long sigh of relief.

"Eh, I am glad to see that bit o' light twinkling," she exclaimed. "It's the light in the lodge window. We shall get a good cup of tea after a bit, at all events."

It was "after a bit," as she said, for when the carriage passed through the park gates there was still two miles of avenue to drive through and the trees (which nearly met overhead) made it seem as if they were driving through a long dark vault.

They drove out of the vault into a clear space and stopped before an immensely long but low-built house which seemed to ramble round a stone court. At first Mary thought that there were no lights at all in the windows, but as she got out of the carriage she saw that one room in a corner up-stairs showed a dull glow.

The entrance door was a huge one made of massive, curiously shaped panels of oak studded with big iron nails and bound with great iron bars. It opened into an enormous hall, which was so dimly lighted that the faces in the portraits on the walls and the figures in the suits of armor made Mary feel that she did not want to look at them. As she stood on the stone floor she looked a very small, odd little black figure, and she felt as small and lost and odd as she looked.

A neat, thin old man stood near the manservant who opened the door for them.

"You are to take her to her room," he said in a husky voice. "He doesn't want to see her. He's going to London in the morning."

"Very well, Mr. Pitcher," Mrs. Medlock answered. "So long as I know what's expected of me, I can manage."

"What's expected of you, Mrs. Medlock," Mr. Pitcher said, "is that you make sure that he's not disturbed and that he doesn't see what he doesn't want to see."

And then Mary Lennox was led up a broad staircase and down a long corridor and up a short flight of steps and through another corridor and another, until a door opened in a wall and she found herself in a room with a fire in it and a supper on a table.

Mrs. Medlock said unceremoniously:

"Well, here you are! This room and the next are where you'll live—and you must keep to them. Don't you forget that!"

It was in this way Mistress Mary arrived at Misselthwaite Manor and she had perhaps never felt quite so contrary in all her life.

 

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