Chapter 9 Chapter nine

Early in the morning, Charlie was woken up by the coffee maid.For a moment he forgot what happened last night. "Oh, I slept so badly," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I'm so sorry. But it's ten-thirty and I have an appointment at eleven-thirty." "Never mind. Today is my last day in Paris, and it would be foolish to waste it sleeping." The maid brought two breakfasts on one tray.Lydia told her to hand over the tray to Charlie.She put on her pajamas and sat on the edge of Charlie's bed, facing the head of the bed.She poured a cup of coffee, cut the bread in half, buttered it and handed it to Charlie.

"I've been watching you sleep," she said. "You sleep like a small animal or a child. It's so cute. You sleep so quietly and deeply that you can't help but look at you." He remembered what happened last night. "I think you may not have slept well last night." "No, I slept really well last night. I slept like hell and I'm exhausted. That's one of the things I'm most grateful to you for being able to sleep so well. I often have nightmares. But since staying I haven't had a single dream since I was here. I slept so soundly. I thought, maybe I'll never sleep like this again."

He knew she had been dreaming at night, and he knew what kind of dreams she was having.She has forgotten these dreams.He restrained himself from looking at her.Thinking of a living being whose heart has been torn apart can continue to feel pain in a state of complete unconsciousness, thinking of this real life in front of me crying out of sorrow in sleep, the corners of her mouth twisted in pain, but when waking up But there was no memory left, which gave him a kind of eerie and somewhat mysterious feeling, and an unpleasant feeling passed over his heart.Nor was he quite sure what the reason for this feeling was.If he knew, he might ask himself:

"Who are we really? How much do we know about ourselves? Are some of us living under a mask and not being as real as this person in front of us?" These are very complex and unfamiliar questions.These problems are not as simple as they appear on the surface.Maybe the people we think we know best are hiding secrets they don't even know.Charlie suddenly came to a conclusion: the secrets of human beings can never be fully explored.In fact, you probably don't know anything about anyone. "What kind of date are you going on?" he asked more to say something than to really know.

Lydia lit a cigarette, and replied: "Marcel, the fat fellow, the proprietor of the place we went to last night, introduced me to two men there. I've made an appointment with them to meet this morning at the Palette Cafe. Last night There are too many people there, we can't talk." "what!" He was careful not to ask who the two men were. "Marcel has connections with both Cayenne and Saint-Laurent. He gets news from them all the time. That's why I wanted to go there. They landed in Saint-Nazaire last week." "Who? Those two men? Are they fugitives?"

"No. They've served their sentences. The Salvation Army paid for their boat. They knew Robert." She hesitated for a moment. "You can come with me if you want. They're broke. If you If you could give them a little money, they would appreciate it." "That's all right. I'd love to go with you." "Neither of them looked like bad guys. One of them didn't look like he was thirty years old. He was a cook, Marcel told me. The reason he was exiled was because he killed the restaurant where he worked. I don’t know what crime the other person committed. You’d better go take a shower first.” She went to the dressing table and looked in the mirror, “It’s strange, my eyes are swollen. Seeing me like this , you'd think I've been crying. But you know, I haven't, have I?"

"Perhaps it was the black smoke in the air last night. My God! I hardly recognize you." "I'll call the waiter to bring some ice. We'll go outside and get some fresh air for five minutes and we'll be back." There was no one there when they got to Parritt's.The last group of breakfast guests had finished their coffee and left, and it was too early for those who had an aperitif before lunch.They sat down in a corner near the window, where they could see the street.They waited for several minutes. "Here we go," Lydia said. Charlie looked out and saw two men approaching.They glanced into the restaurant, hesitated for a while, walked away, and then walked back.Lydia smiled at them both, but they paid her no attention.They stood outside the cafe, watching both sides of the street, and then scanned the cafe vigilantly.It seems that they haven't made up their mind whether to walk into this cafe.There was something timid and furtive in their demeanor.They exchanged a few words, and one of the younger ones cast a wary glance behind him.The other person seemed to have made up his mind suddenly and walked towards the door.The younger man immediately followed him.Lydia smiled and waved at them as they entered the house, but they still paid no attention to her.They looked around secretly, as if to reconfirm whether it was safe here.Then the one in front looked away, the one in the back stared at the ground, and walked over.Lydia shook hands with them and introduced Charlie to them.They had evidently expected Lydia alone to be here, and Charley had made them uneasy.They eyed Charlie suspiciously.Lydia explained that he was an Englishman, a friend who was visiting Paris for a few days.Charlie smiled kindly and held out his hand to them.They shook hands lightly with him in turn.They don't seem to know what to say.Lydia sat them down and asked what they wanted.

"Let's have a cup of coffee." "Don't you two have something to eat?" The older man smiled faintly at the younger one. "Then have a piece of cake. The lad has a sweet tooth. And over there, where we came from, sweets are rare." The man who spoke was a little man who was a little shorter than the average person.He may have been forty years old.The other man was two or three inches taller, perhaps ten years younger.Both were very thin, and both wore thick suits and ties.One was wearing a gray and white checkered suit, the other a dark green suit.But their suits were rough and baggy.They also look tense inside.Although the older man was shorter in stature, his body was strong and he looked very strong.His sallow, dull face was lined with lines.He seemed to be the one making up the mind of the two.The other's complexion was equally sallow and dull, but his skin, wrapped tightly around the bones, was smooth and unlined; he looked ill.Another feature they have in common is that their eyes are very large.When they look at you, they don't seem to be looking at you, but looking past you, wildly, as if they are looking at something that fills them with fear.The look in their eyes was very painful.At first, though Charley tried to be friendly by handing them cigarettes, he was a little shy; Lydia said nothing, just stared at them.Therefore, they also cringed a little, and just sat silently like this.But her eyes are very soft, so they don't look awkward.The waiter brought them coffee and a plate of cake.The older man toyed with a piece of cake while the younger man gobbled it up.As he ate, he would glance at his friend from time to time, with surprise in his eyes, which was quite moving.

"The first thing the two of us did when we got to Paris was find a candy store and the kid ate six creme brulee. But he paid for it." "Yeah," said another seriously, "I threw up when I walked out on the street. My stomach is not used to this kind of sweets. But even it's worth it." "The food was terrible when you were there?" The older man shrugged. "Eating beef every day, 365 days a year. It took a while for people to notice it. If you behaved well, you'd get some cheese and wine. Of course, only behaved. But jail When you get used to following the rules, it gets worse when you come out. You don’t have to worry about food and shelter when you’re in prison, but after you’re free, it’s all up to you.”

"My friend doesn't know," said Lydia. "You can explain to him that the legal system in England is different from that in France." "It's like this. Whether you are sentenced to eight or ten years in prison, or fifteen or twenty years in prison, after serving your sentence, you are a released person. But you must stay in the prison after you get out of prison. Colonies, time equal to your sentence. It's hard to get a job there. Ex-cons have a bad reputation and people won't hire them. You can indeed get a piece of land and farm it for a living. But not everyone can do it This. In the prison, people just obey the orders of the guards all the year round, and do nothing half the time, and people have inertia; there are also malaria and hookworm diseases, so people's bodies are also destroyed. Most of them do nothing. When the ship comes into port, they make a little money by loading and unloading the cargo. These ex-prisoners have nothing, they sleep in the market, and if they have money, they drink coconut wine, and then they just starve. I'm lucky. You see, I'm an electrician, and I'm good at it. I'm as skilled as anybody, so they need me. I'm doing pretty well."

"How long have you been in prison?" Lydia asked. "Only eight years." "Because of what?" He shrugged slightly and gave Lydia a self-deprecating smile. "Because of the stupidity of youth. A young man had bad company and was often drunk. Finally something happened and the man had to atone for it with his life. I was twenty-four when I was exiled, I'm 40 now. I've spent the best years of my life in prison." "He would have had a chance to escape," said another, "but he didn't." "You mean, you can run away?" Lydia asked. Charlie glanced at her quickly and examiningly, but could read nothing on her face. "Escape? It's not easy. People always run, but few succeed. Where can you go? In the jungle? Can you deal with cold and fever and wild beasts and hunger? Natives for reward Will get you too. Many have tried to escape. They are fed up with the monotony of life in prison, the food in prison and the strict regulations in prison. Escaping from prison is better than this life, but there is no way for them to last, even if they don't die of disease or starvation, they will be caught back or turn themselves in. Then you will be in solitary confinement for two years or more Only a very strong man survived this punishment. In the old days when the Dutch built the railway, it was easier to escape. You could swim to the other side of the river and they would let you join the road building army. But now the railway is gone. When it's done, they don't need labor anymore. They catch you and they just send you back to prison. But even then, it's risky to run away. There was a customs officer once, and he promised if you paid him a certain amount Money - usually he has a fixed price - and he'll take you across the river. He makes an appointment to meet you in the jungle one night, and when you get there on time, all that's waiting for you is his gun. After killing people, he took all the money in their pockets. It is said that before he was caught, he killed more than 30 people. Some escaped by sea. There were six people who conspired to escape. Buy them a boat that's falling apart. It's been a rough escape for them, with no compass or other navigational instruments, and no idea when a storm is going to blow. It takes more luck than planning to get out safely. More important. But where can they escape? Venezuela will not take them. If they land there, the Venezuelans will just put them in jail and send them back. If they land in Trinidad, the authorities will Keep them there for a week and give them fresh water and food. The authorities will even provide them with a boat if their boat becomes impassable and send them back to sea and they still have nowhere to go. Don't have that It would be foolish to try to escape." "But someone succeeded," Lydia said. "A doctor escaped successfully. What's his name? It is said that he is practicing medicine somewhere in South America, and he is doing well." "Yes, if you have money, you can get away sometimes. Provided you're not imprisoned on those islands, but in Cayenne or Saint Laurent. You can bribe the captain of a Brazilian schooner with money. .If he keeps his word, he will land you on the coast of Brazil somewhere, so you are safe. If he is not a man of his word, he will take your money and throw you in The sea. Now the captains are asking for about twelve thousand francs, which means you pay double that, because the ex-convict who brought you the money takes half as his reward. And you also You can't land in Brazil penniless. All in all you'll need at least thirty thousand francs, and who can have that much money?" Lydia asked another question, and Charlie gave her another suspicious look. "How can we guarantee that this ex-convict will hand over the money to him?" she asked. "No guarantees. Sometimes he breaks his contract, but he ends up getting stabbed in the back and dies. He knows very well that the authorities don't bother if a damned ex-con is found dead one morning." worked hard to solve the case.” "Your friend just said that you could have escaped sooner, but didn't. What did he mean?" The little man shrugged mockingly. "I try to make myself useful. The warden at that prison is a nice guy and he knows I'm honest and a good worker. They figured out pretty quickly that if there was one thing to do they could make me I'm in a house by myself and I don't touch anything else. He's allowing me to return to France early while I have two years left as an ex-convict." He punched his The partner smiled warmly, "But I don't want to leave this young troublemaker. I know that if I don't take care of him, he will get into trouble." "That's true," said another, "I depend on him for everything." "He was just a child when he was exiled. He slept next to me. He was fine during the day, but at night he would cry and call his mother. I felt sorry for him. Somehow, I Loved him. He was too weak among those men. Poor little guy, I have to take care of him all the time. Some people always try to bully him. An Algerian is always making trouble for him, but I subdue him .After that, they never bothered the kid again." "How do you do it?" The little man grinned so happily and mischievously that he looked ten years younger. "Well. You don't know. Living in a place like that, a person can only gain respect if he knows how to use a knife. I stabbed him in the stomach with a knife." Charlie gasped.The man said this with such ease that Charlie could hardly believe his ears. "You don't know, the prisoners are locked in the cell from nine at night until five in the morning, and the guards never come in during that time. To tell you the truth, they are also afraid that they will die here ...if a prisoner is found out in the morning with a knife stabbed in the stomach, the authorities won't ask anything, and if they do, they won't be able to tell the truth. So you see. I feel a responsibility to this kid. I have everything Teach him. I have a good head, and I soon found out that in that place, if you want to feel better, the only way is to follow orders and stay out of trouble. It is not justice that rules the earth, but violence. Governments To have this kind of violence. Perhaps in the near future we working people will have this kind of violence, and then we will be able to return violence to the bourgeoisie. But until then we will have to suffer. That is what I taught him. I also passed on my skills to him, and now his level of electrical skills is almost equal to mine." "All we have to do now is find a job," said another, "find a place where the two of us can work together." "After so much ups and downs together, now we can never be apart again. You see, he is my everything. I don't have a mother now, nor a wife, nor children. I have all of them. But My mother died, and I lost my wife and children when I got into trouble. Women don’t have good things. Men can’t live without love.” "I have no relatives in this world. We are dependent on each other." There is something deeply moving about the friendship that binds these two hapless men.Charlie was agitated and a little embarrassed.He wanted to tell them how brave and beautiful their friendship was, but he knew he would never say such extraordinary things.But Lydia was not so shy as he. "I don't think there are very many people who, when given the chance to get out of that hellish place, would spend the extra two years there for a friend." The man smiled. "You don't know that time is the opposite of money there. A little money is considered rich, but a lot of time is useless. A few francs are considered a great fortune there. And two years is hardly worth talking about." Lydia sighed deeply.Apparently that was something she was thinking about. "How many years is Berger going to be there?" "fifteen years." Everyone was silent for a moment.Lydia was struggling to keep her emotions under control, and it was obvious.But her voice trembled a little when she spoke. "Have you seen him?" "Yes. I spoke to him. We were in the hospital together. I went to the hospital for an appendectomy and I didn't want to go back to France with a constantly inflamed appendix. He was working on a road construction site. They were Build a road from Saint-Laurent to Cayenne. He's got bad malaria." "I don't know that. I had a letter from him, but he didn't mention malaria." "Everyone gets malaria sooner or later there. It's not a big deal. It's a stroke of luck that he got malaria early. The local chief health officer likes him. Berger is an educated man, so There aren't many people there. When he recovers from his malaria, they're going to make an application to transfer him to a local hospital. He should be doing well there." "Marcel told me last night that Robert sent you a message to be forwarded to me." "Yes, he gave me an address." He took out a pack of documents from his pocket, took out a piece of paper with something written on it and handed it to Lydia, "If you want to send him money, Just send the money to this address. But remember, he will only receive half of the money you sent." Lydia took the slip of paper, looked at it, and put it in her handbag. "Anything else?" "Yeah. He said you don't have to worry too much. He said he wasn't too bad up there, he was doing okay. He was telling the truth. He was smart. He didn't make too many mistakes. He was A man of good times. You'll see, he had a good time." "How can he be happy?" "It's funny what a man can do in situations. He's a witty guy, isn't he? He used to make us laugh out loud at what he said. He's a guy who sees the funny side of things, not Much. That's for sure." Lydia looked pale.She bowed her head in silence.The older man turned to his partner. "You remember that thing I told you? The joke he made about the guy who ended up in the hospital trying to slit his throat?" "Oh, I remember that. But what the hell did he say? I forget all about it now, but I remember it made my stomach ache from laughing." There was another long silence.There seemed to be nothing left to say.Lydia was thinking.The two men sat listlessly in their chairs, their eyes blank, like those mechanical dolls sold on the boulevard Montparnasse, which can spin and swing, they go round and round and then stop suddenly, Not moving at all.Lydia sighed. "That's all I think I'll know," she said. "Thank you for being here. I hope you find the jobs you want." "The Salvation Army is doing its best to find us jobs. I think it will work out." Charlie took his wallet from his pocket. "I think you two must be tight right now. I want to give you a little help to get over it until you both get a job." "It's really timely," the man smiled happily. "The Salvation Army didn't give us anything except board and lodging." Charlie gave them five hundred francs. "Give the boy the money. He's as thrifty as a farmer, and he's born to get by. Let him spend it and he's anxious. Give him five francs, and he'll spend more than any old woman in the world." longer time." The four of them walked out of the cafe and shook hands.Their date had taken an hour in all, and the two men were not so timid anymore.But back on the street, they were back in their old ways, acting timidly, as if trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.They looked furtively left and right, as if they were afraid someone might pounce on them.After another glance back, they bowed their heads and slipped away side by side along the nearest street corner. Charlie said: "I don't feel very comfortable with them. Of course it may just be my personal bias." Lydia didn't answer.They walked the streets in silence, and they ate lunch without speaking.Lydia was lost in her own thoughts, and Charlie could guess what she was thinking.Charlie felt that whatever he wanted to say might not be welcome.Also, there are questions in his mind.The conversation they had just had with the two men, and the question Lydia had asked, had activated the doubts Simon had planted in his mind.Although he tried not to think about this problem, but this question lurked in his mind, it was difficult to get rid of, just like a room without windows and the door has not been opened for a long time, the musty smell in the room is difficult to dispel all at once.He was very distressed.Partly because the question made him feel fooled, but more importantly, he didn't want to think Lydia was a hypocritical liar. When they had finished lunch, Charlie said, "I'm going to see Simon. The main purpose of my trip to Paris was to see him, but we've only seen each other for a short time. I should at least say good-bye to him in person." "Yes, I think you should go." He also wanted to return the newspaper clippings and articles that Simon had lent him.He already had these in his pockets. "If you want to be with your Russian friends this afternoon, I can take a taxi and take you there first." "No, I'm not going anywhere, just go back to the hotel." "I'll probably be late. You know Simon can talk a lot. Won't you be bored by yourself?" "I never think about it that much." She smiled. "I won't be bored. I don't get to be alone very often. In a room by myself and knowing no one will bother—" Ah, I can't imagine a more luxurious enjoyment." After they parted, Charlie went to Simon's place.He knew that Simon was likely to be home at this hour.After he rang the bell, Simon opened the door.He was wearing a pajamas set over a dressing gown. "Hello! What a gust of wind has brought you here. I don't have to go out this morning, so I haven't changed my clothes yet." He hadn't shaved, he didn't seem to have washed his face, and his long straight hair was disheveled.In the dim light of the room he could see his restless, angry eyes, darkened against his thin, pale cheeks.His eye sockets were also a little blue. "Get a chair and sit down," he went on. "I've got the fire going pretty well today, and it's pretty warm in the room." The room was indeed warmer, but it still gave people a bleak, gloomy feeling, and it was also a mess. "Are you still in love?" "I was with Lydia just now." "You're going back to London tomorrow, aren't you? Don't let her knock too much money. You don't have to help her damned husband out of prison." Charlie pulled the clippings from his pocket. "According to your article, I infer that you should have a certain sympathy for him." "Sympathy? Impossible. I find him interesting only because he's an out-and-out cold-blooded, amoral scoundrel. I admire his guts. In a different setting, he could be a useful tool." When the revolution broke out, a man like him who can do anything, has the courage and no scruples, is a rare talent." "I don't think he's a very reliable tool." "Dandon once said that a revolution is the rising of the scum, and that hooligans and criminals will rise to the surface. It's a natural thing. There are jobs that only they can do. When they're used, they can be disposed of." "You seem to have a plan, old man." Charlie laughed. Simon shrugged his bony shoulders impatiently. "I studied the French Revolution and the Paris Commune. So did the Russians, they learned a lot from it. But we are now able to learn from the events that followed, and we have the advantage. The Hungarian revolution was a mess, but the Russians The revolution was successful, and Italy and Germany did a good job. If we are a little sensible, we should be able to emulate their successes and avoid the mistakes they made. Kun Bella's revolution failed , the reason is that the people are starving. The rise of the working class makes the outbreak of the revolution relatively simple, but the working class must also eat. The revolution also needs to be organized. Only through organization can sufficient transportation and sufficient food supply be guaranteed. .Revolutions in the past have often lacked effective organization, which is why the power gained by the working class through revolutions has often fallen into the hands of a small group of intellectual leaders. They are incapable of governing themselves. The proletariat is composed of slaves, and Slaves need masters to manage them." "I see that you don't describe yourself as a very democratic person anymore." Charlie's blue eyes sparkled. Simon refuted Charlie's sarcastic reply, but his attitude was a bit impatient. "Democracy is all talk, an unattainable ideal. Propagandaists use it to seduce the masses like a carrot hanging in front of a donkey's eyes, always elusive. Liberty, equality and fraternity, these The great slogan of the nineteenth century is pure nonsense. Freedom? The masses don't want freedom. Even if they were given freedom, they wouldn't know what it's for. They need someone to tell them what to do, as long as they feel happy. So , security is their deepest hope. It has long been assumed that freedom has meaning only if it is done right. Rightness is determined by power. Rightness is a concept generally judged by public opinion , determined by the letter of the law. But public opinion is swayed by those who have the power to impose their views on the masses, and the law only recognizes the power behind this opinion. Fraternity? What does fraternity mean?" Charlie considered the question for a moment. "Well, I don't really know. I think it might be a feeling that we're all part of one big family, that our time on this planet is so short, and that we should be kind to each other." "Is there any other meaning?" "Maybe there is another meaning. Life is not easy. If people can respect each other and help each other, our life will be easier. People will have many shortcomings, but there are also many good and beautiful places. You treat people The more you get to know them, the more you think they are worthy of respect. The word fraternity may also mean that if you give people a chance, they will give in and make compromises." "Nonsense, lad. You're a sentimental fool. First of all, the idea that the more you know about people, the better your impression of them will be wrong. That's why people should only have acquaintances, not friends The acquaintance only shows you the best of himself, showing you his thoughtfulness and politeness. He will use social customs and traditions to cover up his shortcomings. But it is different to be a close friend with him, he will put aside A false mask. When you get to know him well, he doesn't try to disguise himself. Then you will find a villain who is so vile, so shallow, so weak, and so depraved. If you don't realize That's what he is, and you'll be amazed. To blame him for that would be as foolish as blaming a wolf for being greedy or a cobra for biting. Because human nature is egoistic. Egoism is both his strength and his own. His weakness. Oh, I've learned a lot about people in the two years I've been in the press. People are vain, petty, greedy, double-dealing and slavish, and they betray each other out of sheer malice , even to their own advantage. They will use all tricks to thwart the plans of their opponents. They will endure any humiliation in order to obtain a title or a letter of appointment. Not only politicians, lawyers, businessmen, artists, Scholars are no exception. They crave the limelight, and will flatter a trivial journalist in order to get a favor in the papers. The rich will not hesitate to intrigue for a few pounds. , and this small amount of money is not worth mentioning to them. Integrity, whether it is business integrity or political integrity, should be the only thing they value, but they can also abandon it. The only thing that can bind them It's fear, for they are cowards. Their verbal statements, their hype, are the most outrageous lies. Oh, take my word for it. I've learned a great deal since I left Cambridge. And you can't You still retain many fantasies about human nature. Humans are vile creatures, cowards and hypocrites. I loathe them." Charlie looked down.He was a little ashamed to speak his mind.His words sound a little silly when they come out of his mouth. "Have you no mercy for them?" "Mercy? Mercy sounds a bit effeminate. Mercy is the language a beggar uses when he begs you. Because he has neither the guts nor the will to expend brain and body to live a decent life. Mercy is the admiration that a loser craves." words, so they can retain their self-respect. Pity is the cheap blackmail of the downtrodden to the successful, so that they can enjoy the riches of the successful with peace of mind." Simon angrily wrapped his frail body in his dressing gown.Charlie recognized the dressing gown as one of his old clothes.He wanted to throw the dress away, but Simon asked if he could give it to him.I laughed at that time and said that I could give him a new one.But Charlie said the dress was good enough for him and insisted on it.Charlie wondered uneasily, was Simon angry that the gift was so cheap? "Equality? Equality is nonsense. This concept throws the human intellect into confusion. As if people are equal, or can become equal! They talk about equality of opportunity. Equality of opportunity does not bring people What are the benefits, why do you still talk about it? People are born unequal. People are born with different temperaments, different physical strengths, and different IQs.给予他们与那些有个性、有头脑、勤奋而身体健壮的人平等的机会呢？而正是人类与生俱来的不平等证实了民主毫无价值。靠成千上万头脑空空的人去管理国家真是一出愚蠢的闹剧！首先，他们不知道民主能给他们带来什么利益；其次，他们没有能力得到他们想要的利益。民主成了什么？民主沦为了狡猾而自私的政客们具有煽动性的口号，民主成了玩弄字眼的游戏。民主的鼓吹者们都是些没有脑子的人。即使有些人有脑子，他们也没有时间来动脑子。因为他要全力以赴地哄骗那些傻瓜们去投他的选票。民主制度经过了一百年的试验，理论上它始终是荒谬的。现在我们知道了，实践上它也是失败的。” “如果你能成为一名议员，你就不会坚持这样的观点了。西蒙老兄，这样看来，你是一个非常不诚实的家伙呀。” “在一个英国这样的老式国家，人们珍爱其既有的体制。除了能够进入这些机构外，一个人从外部无法获得足够的权力来实施他的计划。我想任何人除非能成为下议院一个大党的重要成员，否则都无法在这个国家得到足够的支持，在他周围聚集起大批的追随者，发动一场成功的政变。而既然要挑起一场大规模的动乱，只能借助人民的力量，那么这个大党必然是工党。即使在革命条件成熟的情况下，资产阶级仍然能够保持着足够的特权，这样他们就可以将自己的损失减少到最低程度。” “你认为在什么条件下会出现这种情况？在战争失败或经济危机爆发时？” “说得很对！即使在那样的时刻，资产阶级受到的打击也相对较轻。他们可以卖掉自己的汽车或者关掉乡间的别墅。这样一来就增加了失业者，但于他们自己并无大碍。而在这种情况下，人民却会陷入饥馑之中。在这样的时刻，只要你告诉人民，在革命中他们失去的只是锁链；只要你在他们面前晃动着可以分到其他人的财产这个诱饵，他们压抑已久的贪欲和妒忌马上就会释放出来，因为他们以往没有办法满足自己对富人财产的贪欲。这时，他们就会听从你的号召。有了自由和平等的口号，你就可以带领他们进行战斗了。过去二十五年的历史表明，他们必将赢得成功。而有产者由于贪恋财富而软弱无力。他们讲究人道主义，心怀感伤，因而他们既没有意志，也没有勇气来捍卫自己。他们的意见无法统一，此时他们唯一的机会是马上展开无情的行动，但他们却把时间浪费在相互指责上。而革命领袖的工具是一帮暴徒，他们不是按照思考，而是根据本能来行动。他们容易受到催眠般暗示的控制，你可以用口号使他们如痴如狂。他们是一个整体，因而对同伴倒下死去无动于衷。他们既不懂得怜悯，也不知道宽容。他们陶醉于毁灭，在毁灭中他们认识到自己的力量。” “我想你不会否认，这样的革命必然导致成千上万无辜的人遭受杀戮，使历经数百年时间才建立起来的制度遭到破坏。” “在一场革命中，必然会出现大量的破坏和杀戮。恩格斯多年前说过，必须预见到资产阶级会利用一切手段抵抗对他们的镇压。这是一场你死我活的战斗。民主对人类生活的重要性已经被提升到十分荒谬的程度。从道义上看，人类毫无价值，对人进行压制并不会带来什么损失；生物意义上看，人类也不很重要。杀死一个人就如同拍死一只苍蝇，不值得大惊小怪。” “我开始明白你为什么对罗伯特·伯杰感兴趣了。” “我对他感兴趣是因为他杀人没有任何肮脏的动机。他杀人既不是为了金钱，也不是出于嫉妒，而是要证明自己，证明自己所具有的力量。” “共产主义制度是否可行当然还有待证明。” “共产主义？谁谈共产主义了？现在人所共知，共产主义已经失败了。共产主义是不切实际的理想主义者们的梦想。他们对现实生活一无所知。共产主义是一种引诱工人阶级起来造反的诱惑物。正如自由和平等一样，是一种口号。这些口号使他们的胆子变得大了起来。纵观人类历史，总是有剥削者和被剥削者之分。今后也将永远如此。这种状况应该是正常的。因为自然界创造出来的大多数人都是奴隶，他们管理不好自己。为了他们的利益着想，也应该有主子来管理他们。” “这个说法可有点儿令人吃惊。” “这不是我说的，老伙计。”西蒙讽刺地回答道，“这是柏拉图说的。但他做出这个断言之后的人类历史已经充分证明了该断言是个真理。在我们这个时代，我们目睹的革命结果是什么呢？人民并没有摆脱主子的控制，他们只是换了个主子而已。共产主义的铁腕统治超过了任何统治者的治理能力。” “那么人民是受到欺骗了吗？” “当然是。这还有疑问吗？人们是愚蠢的，他们应该被欺骗。这值得一提吗？他们的收益也很大。他们不再需要自己动脑筋想问题，有人告诉他们去做什么。只要他们听从指挥，他们就会拥有所希冀的安全感。我们这个时代的独裁者们犯了错误，我们可以从他们的错误中吸取教训。他们忘记了马基雅弗利的格言：如果你给予人民私人生活的自由，你就可以在政治上奴役人民。我应该给予人民自由的假象。只要不与国家的安全相冲突，我就要让他们享有尽可能多的个人自由。我要在人类的动物特性所许可的情况下尽可能多地实现工业的国有化，给人们以平等的假象。因为他们都被套在一副枷锁下，他们甚至可能产生兄弟友爱的假象。请记住，独裁者可以为人民谋得许多民主制度下无法得到的利益。因为民主制度既要照顾既得者的利益，也要考虑对既得利益者的嫉妒和个人野心。因此，一个独裁者可以获得改变大众命运的绝佳机会。我有一天曾参加过本地一个盛大的共产党大会，大大小小的标语横幅上写的都是和平、工作和福祉之类的口号。还有什么能比这些要求更自然吗？然而尽管经历了一百多年的民主制度，人们的这些目标仍然没有实现。而独裁者只要大笔一挥就能够满足人民的这些愿望。” “但是你承认，人民只是给自己换了个主子，他们仍然是被剥削者。你认为他们会忍受这种地位的原因是什么？” “因为他们没有别的选择。如今，独裁者可以用飞机扔炸弹，用装甲车上的机枪进行扫射，可以镇压任何反抗。资产阶级也可以这样做，这样革命就不会有成功的机会。但事实已经证明，他们没有这种勇气。他们杀了一百个人，甚至一千个人，然后他们就害怕了。他们提出让步，希望达成妥协，但一切为时已晚。那时他们将被扫地出门。但人民会接受他们主人的奴役，因为他们知道，他比他们更优秀、更聪明。” “为什么他会比他们更优秀、更聪明呢？” “因为他更强大，因为他拥有权力。他说的话就等同于真理。” “这个说法就像一加一等于二一样简单，但更加令人无法信服了。”查利言语尖刻地反驳道。 西蒙怒目瞪了他一眼。 “你的生活，甚至你的性命都与此攸关，所以你认为这个说法缺乏足够的说服力。” “那么谁才可能幸运地成为这个主人呢？” “没有哪一个特定的人。他是特定环境的必然产物。” “听起来有点儿深奥，不是吗？” “他能上升到顶端是因为他有做领导者的天赋。他有获取权力的意志。他有勇气、热情、能力，他勤奋而精力充沛。他无所畏惧，因为他视险途为乐趣。缺乏危险的刺激，生活反而平淡无味了。” “西蒙，恐怕没有人会说你不够自负。”查利笑着说。 “你为什么这么说？” “我想你认为自己拥有你刚才列举的那些素质。” “你怎么会得出这样的结论？我比任何人都更了解自己。我知道自己的能力有限。独裁者必须具有一种神秘的吸引力，能让其追随者产生一种宗教般的迷狂。使得人们放下自己的生命拥护他。在他的影响下，追随者们变得更有激情。而我带给人的是厌恶感而不是吸引力。我可以使人们害怕我，但我从来无法让他们爱我。林肯曾说过：'你可以长久地蒙骗一部分人，也可以在部分时间内蒙骗所有的人，但你无法长期蒙骗所有的人。'而独裁者必须做到的就是要长期蒙骗所有的人。要做到这一点只有一个办法，就是他还必须欺骗自己。没有任何一个独裁者拥有一清晰而又具有逻辑性的头脑，但他拥有驱动力、吸引力和魅力。如果你能仔细琢磨他的话，你会发现，独裁者的智慧很平庸，他的行动是基于直觉的。他如果开始思考，他的头脑就会变得糊涂。我的头脑太过清晰，而人又太缺少魅力，我无法成为一个独裁者。此外，无产阶级推举上台的独裁者最好是无产阶级的一员。工人阶级会更容易认定他为自己的同类人，从而会更加自觉地服从他的领导，为他献身。革命的方法现在已经成熟，只待条件适当，一个坚决而果敢的人很容易夺取政权。难的是保持住政权。俄国革命走的是一条最为明确的道路，意大利和德国的革命层次稍低。这些经验证明，要革命成功只有一种手段，这就是恐怖政策。成为一国政权领袖的工人会面对各种诱惑，只有意志非常坚强的人才能抗拒这些诱惑。要想他不会由于阿谀奉承而晕头转向，要想他的意志不会被奢侈的生活所削弱，他必须是个超人。工人出身的领袖自然是情绪化的人。他的善良很容易变成怜悯，当他心满意足后，他很容易对事情袖手旁观，任其自然发展。他宽恕了他的敌人。但只要他一转身，敌人们就会将刀插入他的后背。他需要身边有一个这样的人：其出身和性格、受到的教育和训练使他对出头露面的事情一点儿也没兴趣，他对革命成功后使人意志衰退的各种影响有一种天然的免疫力。” 西蒙一直在房间内来回走着，但现在他走到查利面前，突然停住了脚步。他苍白的面孔上胡子拉碴，头发乱蓬蓬的，瘦弱的身子裹在睡衣里，显得极为怪诞。然而，就在不久之前，也有一些身子也是如此单薄，面色也是如此苍白，也是如此蓬头垢面，穿着破旧的西装或学生服的年轻人，在自己肮脏的房间内来回走着，述说着自己似乎毫不现实的梦想。然而时间和机遇很奇怪地将他们的梦想变成了现实，他们通过流血斗争掌握了政权，成千上万的生命就掌握在他们手中。 “你有没有听说过捷尔任斯基？” 查利吃惊地看了他一眼。这是莉迪娅曾提到过的名字。 “是的，说来很奇怪，我听过这个名字。” “他是一位绅士。他的祖先自十七世纪以来一直是波兰的地主。他是一个有教养的人，曾博览群书。列宁及其元老缔造了俄国的革命政权，但要不是捷尔任斯基，一年内这个政权就会被推翻。他明白只有恐怖才能保卫革命的果实。他谋到了掌控警察机构的位置，组织了契卡。他将契卡改造成一个具有机器般精度的完美的镇压工具。他忠于职守，爱恨情仇都不会影响他的工作。他勤奋工作，废寝忘食。他有时亲自通宵审问嫌疑犯。据说他对人的内心分析入木三分，想要对他隐瞒自己内心的秘密是不可能的。他发明了人质系统，这成了革命政权维持秩序的最有效的系统之一。他亲自签署了很多份，确切地说是数千份死刑执行令。他过着斯巴达式的简朴生活。他的力量来自他毫不利己的动机。他唯一的目标就是保卫革命果实。他成了俄罗斯最有权势的人。人民拥戴和崇拜的是列宁，但捷尔任斯基是他们事实上的统治者。” “而如果英国爆发了革命，你就要成为这样的角色是吗？” “我应该会非常适合。” 查利冲他孩子气地温厚地一笑。 “如果我现在就在这里把你掐死，我可能是在为国家做一件好事。你知道，我可以这么做。” “这我相信。但你害怕后果。” “我想没有人会发现这件事。没有人看到我走进了你的房间。只有莉迪娅知道我要见你，而她是不会出卖我的。” “我不是说你害怕这些后果。我是说你害怕自己良心不安。查利，老伙计，你的心肠还不够硬，你的内心太过软弱。” “我只能说，你说得对。” 查利很长时间都没有开口。 “你说捷尔任斯基毫不利己，但你想要得到权力。” “权力只是一种手段。” “你要用权力做些什么？” 西蒙盯着他看，他的眼睛里闪着火光，在查利看来他近乎疯狂了。 “为了满足我自己。为了满足我的创作本能。为了实践大自然赋予我的能力。” 查利再也没有什么话可说了。他看了看手表，站起身来。 “我必须走了。” “我不想再见到你了，查利。” “嗯，咱们不会见面了。我明天就离开巴黎了。” “我的意思是说，我永远也不想再见到你了。” 查利吃了一惊。他看着西蒙的眼睛，西蒙漆黑的双眼中透着冷酷。 "Huh? Why?" “咱们之间结束了。” “永远也不见面了？” “永远。” “难道你不觉得很可惜吗，西蒙？我一直是个不错朋友啊。” 西蒙沉默了一下，但时间并不比一只熟透的水果从树上掉到地上花的时间长。 “你是我曾有过的唯一朋友。” 他的声音有些嘶哑，他的痛苦如此显而易见。查利被深深地感动了，他冲动地伸出双手，向西蒙走去。 “噢，西蒙，你为什么要让自己遭受这样的痛苦呢？” 西蒙饱受折磨的眼睛里腾起一团愤怒的火焰，他攥紧拳头，使尽全力朝查利的下巴猛击一拳。这一击完全出乎查利的意外，他摇摇晃晃，然后跌向没有铺地毯的地面，全身扑倒在地。但他马上就跳了起来，勃然大怒，冲上前去要痛打西蒙一顿。他以前忍无可忍时也经常这样教训他。西蒙双手背在身后，站着一动不动，好像准备好了接受即将到来的惩罚，丝毫没有抵抗的意思。他脸上的表情既痛苦又惊愕，查利的愤怒消退了。 他停了下来。虽然下巴在隐隐作痛，但他宽厚而开朗地笑了。 “西蒙，你是一头蠢驴，你可能打伤我了。”他说。 “看在上帝的分上，滚出去。回到那该死的妓女身边去。我烦死你了。赶快走！” “好吧，老伙计，我就走。但我想给你一个小礼物。你的生日是七号，这是我给你的生日礼物。” 他从口袋里掏出一块表。这种表装在皮革套内，双面都可打开，而且开盖的同时还给表上紧了发条。 “表上有一个环，你可以将表挂在你的钥匙链上。” 他将表放在桌子上。西蒙根本不去瞅它。查利的眼中闪着饶有兴味的神色，瞅了西蒙一眼。他等待西蒙说点儿什么，但他什么也没有说。查利走到门口，打开门，走了出去。 已经是深夜了，但蒙帕纳斯大道依然是灯火通明。新年即将来临，空气中飘荡着一种节日的气氛。街道上到处都是人，咖啡馆里人头攒动。所有的人都从容不迫，不慌不忙。但查利很郁闷。他有一种屈辱的感觉，就如同一个人去参加一个聚会，本想好好享受一番，但因为愚笨的言行和不够圆滑，他感到自己给人留下了不好的印象。回到宾馆那个肮脏的房间使他感到很舒心。莉迪娅正坐在壁炉旁做针线活。她肯定吸了不少烟，空气中弥漫着一股浓重的烟草味。这个场景有一种令人愉快的家庭气氛，使人想起维亚尔式的场景亲切、温暖而迷人的一幅画，但因为这幅画是由郁特里洛所画，因此，画面同时又带着一种动人的悲凄。莉迪娅对他友好地微微一笑，表示欢迎他回来。 “你的朋友西蒙怎么样了？” “跟疯了一样。” 查利点燃烟斗，背靠着莉迪娅的椅子背，在壁炉前的地板上坐了下来。她近在身旁使他感觉很舒适。他很高兴她没有说话。他的脑子里还回响着刚才西蒙对他说的那些可怕的话。西蒙那单薄的身体，两天没有刮脸而胡子拉碴，再加上营养不良以及过度劳累而显得苍白的面孔。他裹着那件旧睡衣在房间内来回走着，向自己倾吐着那些恶意、冷血而荒诞不经的梦话。这些画面在他眼前挥之不去。这些画面破碎后，他的眼前又出现了一个长着一对黑黑眼睛的小男孩，他对亲情显得既渴望又排斥。他跟自己在圣诞节的时候去看马戏表演，他还不习惯这种享受，兴奋得难以自制；他与自己一道骑自行车或长途跋涉在乡间，他有时非常快活和有趣，这时与他一起谈笑、嬉闹、做蠢事令人非常惬意。那个小男孩会变成这样一个年轻人，这似乎令人难以置信。他感到心痛欲裂，几乎要哭了。 “不知道西蒙最后会变成什么样子。”他喃喃自语道。 他几乎不知道自己已经说出了声。当莉迪娅回答他的问题时，他几乎要认为她知道别人在想些什么。 “我不了解英国人。但如果他是一个俄罗斯人，我想他最终要么成为一个危险的鼓动分子，要么就是自杀。” 查利呵呵地笑了。 “哦，我们英国人能力惊人，我们能将野燕麦加工成营养丰富的食品。公平点儿说，他最后也许能当上《泰晤士报》的编辑。” 他站起身来，坐进扶手椅。这是这个房间里唯一舒适的座位。他若有所思地看着莉迪娅穿针引线。他想对她说点儿什么，但想到这又使他感到紧张。他第二天就要离开了，这很可能是他最后的机会。西蒙在他坦诚的心中播下的疑问一直在折磨着他。她是否一直在欺骗自己，很快就会见个分晓。然后当他们分手时，他就可以耸耸肩，问心无愧地忘了她。他决定就在此时此地化解自己心中的疑问，但羞涩使他无法直截了当地端出自己心中的疑问，他决定采用一种迂回的方式。 “我曾经告诉过你我玛莎姑奶的故事吗？”他用轻松的语气问道。 "No." “她是我曾祖父的长女。她是一个总是板着脸的老处女。她脸色蜡黄，我从未见过比她脸上皱纹还多的人。她长得非常矮小，嘴唇总是紧闭着。她看什么都不顺眼，而且要言辞尖刻地表示反对。当我还是个小孩的时候，她常常吓唬我。她对亚历山德拉女王极其崇拜，在晚年的时候，她也戴着女王那样的假发。她总是穿着一身黑色衣服。她束腰，穿拖地的长裙，紧身胸衣的领子碰到她的耳朵。她的脖子上挂着一条沉甸甸的金链，上面还坠着一个很大的黄金十字架。她的双手腕上都戴着金手镯。她非常爱摆架子。她一直住在老赛伯特·梅森为自己安享晚年生活而建造的那所富丽堂皇的老房子里。她从来没有对那里进行过任何改变。到那里去就好像回到了十八世纪七十年代。她几年前才去世，享年颇高，而且给我留下了五百英镑的遗产。” “这很不错。” “我本来想把这笔钱挥霍掉，但我父亲劝我把这笔钱存起来。他说，如果我结婚了，想租个公寓好好布置一番，给自己做个小小的爱巢时，我会对留下这笔钱而谢天谢地的。但几年内我恐怕没有结婚的可能，而我也真的不缺这笔钱用。我从中拿出两百英镑给你好吗？” 莉迪娅一直是一面做着针线活，一面和蔼可亲地听着他说话。虽然他讲的故事她毫无兴趣，但出于礼貌她还是认真地听着。但听了他的最后一句话，她将针插在她正在缝制的东西上，抬起头来。 “这到底是为了什么？” “我想这笔钱可能对你有用。” “我不明白。我做了什么让你觉得应该给我两百英镑呢？” 查利犹豫了。她用她那又大又平的蓝色眼睛凝视着他，目光极端专注，似乎想要看到他的灵魂深处。他将头转开。 “你可以用这笔钱做一个交易，去帮助罗伯特。” 她的嘴角露出淡淡的笑容。She gets it. “是不是你的朋友西蒙一直在告诉你，我在苏丹宫是为了赚取足够的钱，这样可以帮助罗伯特逃跑？” “你为什么要这样想？” 她轻蔑地轻轻一笑。 “我可怜的朋友，你很幼稚。他们对这件事都是这样想的。你不觉得我如果告诉他们真相，想使他们理解，那是在自找麻烦吗？我不想要你的钱，我要这笔钱没有用。”她的声音越来越温柔了，“你的提议让我感到很温暖。你真是一个可爱的人，但也是一个涉世未深的孩子。你知道你的建议是一种犯罪行为，可能给你带来牢狱之灾吗？” "Oh, okay." “你不相信我那天告诉你的话？” “我开始想，要弄清楚在这个世界上哪些话可以相信真是难啊。毕竟，我与你非亲非故，如果你不想告诉我，你就没有理由非要对我说实话。今天上午的那两个人，还有他们给你的汇款地址。如果我把这两件事合在一起进行考虑，我想你不会对我的推测感到惊讶。” “我很愿意给罗伯特汇点儿钱，这样他就可以给自己买点儿香烟和食物。但我告诉你的都是实话。我不想让他逃跑。他犯了罪，就应该受到惩罚。” “一想到你又要回到那个可怕的地方，我就无法忍受。现在我对你有了一点儿了解，想到所有人中偏偏是到你要过那样的生活，真是太可怕了。” “我告诉过你，我要赎罪。罗伯特没有勇气自己去赎罪，那我就要代替他。” “但这是疯狂的，是病态的，这样做毫无意义。虽然我可以理解你的想法，但即使如此，我也觉得这样做过于执迷不悟。也许你相信存在一个残忍的复仇之神，他可以接受你的自我惩罚，作为罗伯特所犯错误的报应。但你告诉过我，你不相信上帝。” “你无法与感觉讲道理。当然，我的这种感觉不理性，但它与理性没有任何关系。我不相信基督教的上帝，不相信他为了拯救人类会奉献出自己的儿子。这是一个神话。但如果这个神话没有表达出人类的一些深层次的直觉，基督教为什么会兴起呢？我不知道我的信仰是什么，我的上述想法来自直觉，而你怎能用语言来描述直觉呢？我有一个直觉，统治我们人类、动物和世间万物的力量，是一个邪恶而残忍的力量。它要世间万物都为自己的所作所为得到报应，而且是要以眼还眼、以牙还牙的报应。尽管我们的精神和肉体可能会因此而痛苦和扭曲，但我们不得不忍受，因为这个力量就是我们自己。” 查利作了一个表示气馁的含混手势。他觉得自己是在与一个语言不通的人进行交谈。 “你要在苏丹宫里待多长时间呢？” “我也不知道。直到我赎清了罪。直到我的每一根骨头都感觉罗伯特不是从监狱中释放出来，而是洗清了罪孽。有一段时间，我做过填写信封的工作。成千上万个信封，会让你感觉好像永远也写不完。你没完没了地写啊写啊。很长一段时间内，似乎写来写去都不见少，然后突然有一天，在毫无准备的情况下，你就会发现自己已经写完了最后一个信封。那这种感觉是如此的奇怪。” “然后你会去与罗伯特团聚吗？” “如果他还想要我的话。” “他当然会想要你。” 她无限伤感地看了他一眼。 "I don't know that." “你难道对这还有疑问吗？他爱你。而且，想想你的爱对他意味着什么。” “你今天听到那两个男人说的话了。他是个同性恋，他得到了一份舒服的差事，他过得还很不错。他必然会如此，他就是这样一个人。是的，他爱过我，这我知道。但我也知道他这个人的爱情是不可能长久的。即使没有发生这些事，我也不可能与他长久下去。这一点我一直很清楚。当需要我离开他的时候到了，既然已经有了他曾经给予我的爱，我难道还会有什么别的需求吗？” “但既然你这样想了，你怎么还会这样做下去呢？” “这样有些愚蠢，是不是？他残忍、自私、不择手段且邪恶。但我不在乎。我不尊重他，我不信任他，但我爱他。我用我的身体爱他，用我的思想爱他，用我的感觉爱他，用我的一切爱他。”她换成了一种轻松戏谑的语调，“现在，我已经把什么都告诉你了，你一定会认为我是一个很不光彩的女人，不值得你感兴趣或同情吧？” 查利思考了一会儿，说道： “好吧，我不介意告诉你，这超出了我的理解范围。但是尽管他在遭受牢狱的惩罚，但我还是不能，我还是更愿意站在他的角度去思考问题。” "why?" “实话实说吧。我无法想象还有什么比全身心地爱上一个毫无价值的人更让人心碎的事情了。” 莉迪娅沉思着，有些惊奇地看了查利一眼，但没有回答。