Chapter 22 Chapter 21

After visiting the manor, the group returned to Frith's living room.Eric was alone in the room with Swann.The old man was babbling on and on about his youth in New Guinea, in Swedish and English, which sounded strange. "Where's Louise?" Frith asked. "I helped her set the tableware, she has been busy in the kitchen for a while, and now she is going to change clothes." They sat down and had another drink and chatted about insignificant things, the way people who don't know each other's details are together.Old Swan was a little tired, so when those strangers came in, he fell into silence, silently observing them keenly with his eyes full of inflammatory secretions, as if these people in front of him had aroused He was highly suspicious of the same.Captain Nichols told Frith that he was suffering from indigestion.

"My stomach is fine, it's always been fine," Frith said. "It was rheumatism that was torturing me." "I have a friend who is also suffering from rheumatism. He is the best pilot in Brisbane, and he is limping because of rheumatism. Now he can only walk on crutches." "Everyone has scriptures that are difficult to recite." "Believe me, nothing kills me like indigestion. If it wasn't for it, I'd be on the rise by now." "Money isn't everything," Frith said. "That's not what I mean, I'm just saying that if it wasn't for my indigestion, I'd be rich by now."

"Money doesn't mean much to me. As long as I have a shelter from the wind and rain and three meals a day, that's enough. Comfort is the most important thing." As Dr. Saunders listened to their conversation, he felt unable to define Fries.He talked like an educated man, and although he was rough, ragged, and unshaven, he was basically unremarkable, but it gave the impression that he had been dealing with decent people.But what is certain is that he does not belong to the class of old Swan and Captain Nichols.His demeanor is easy.He received them with civility, with perfect measure, without indifference, without all the tedious etiquette that an uneducated person receives with strangers, with natural demeanor, gentleness, and confidence.Dr. Saunders expected Frith to be what was once called a gentleman in England.The doctor's curiosity arose spontaneously, why did he come to this remote island?The doctor got up from his chair and wandered about the room.There is a long bookcase in the room, and above the bookcase is a row of picture frames.The doctor was amazed to see pictures of the Cambridge Eights.By the initials under the photo, he recognized the young Frith at a glance.The rest of the photos are some group photos with the children.Frisby is much younger in the photo, surrounded by homegrown boys.Some of these photos were taken in Palak in the Federation of Malays, and some were taken in Kuching in Sarawak. It is likely that after leaving Cambridge, Fries came to the East as a principal, teaching and educating people.Bookcases are stacked in a mess, with mildew spots and termite holes everywhere on the pages. With aimless curiosity, the doctor pulls out a book here and a book there, flipping through it casually .The bookcase also contained a number of leather-bound medals, showing that Frith was a hard-working kid who had attended a smaller public school, but also had a lot of talent.Also on the shelves were the textbooks he had used at Cambridge, many novels and a few volumes of poetry, which looked as if they had been read countless times in the past.However, although these books have been turned over, and many places in the books have been annotated with pencils, they exude a musty smell, as if they have not been read for several years.But what surprised the doctor most was that Frith had two shelves of books on Indian religion and philosophy.Among them were the English translations of the Rigveda and the Upanishads, and various paperbacks published in Calcutta or Bombay.Not only are the authors' names strange, but even the titles of these books are mysterious.This is a unique collection for a plantation owner in the Far East.Dr. Saunders tried to get some clues about Frith from these books. He asked himself, what kind of people would read these books?He was flipping through a copy of Sriniphasa Iyengar's Introduction to Indian Philosophy when Frith limped up to him.

"Would you like to visit my library?" "OK." Frith glanced at the scroll the doctor was holding. "Very interesting. These Indians, they are truly great. They have an innate sensitivity to philosophy, before which all our philosophers pale. Their subtlety is simply astonishing." I think only Plotinus can compare with them." He put the book back on the shelf, and continued, "Brahmanism is the only religion that a reasonable person can practice without doubt." The doctor glanced at him sideways—he had a round, flushed face, long yellow front teeth that were crumbling, and a slight baldness on the top of his head. He did not look like a person who had studied the spiritual world at all.So the doctor was a little surprised when he talked about it.

"When I think of the universe, the countless worlds, and the vastness of the stars, I can't believe that all of these are the masterpieces of the creator. If so, who created them? What about the Creator? The Vedanta school believes that at the beginning of the world, there was a real existence, but where did this real existence come from? Is it derived from non-existence? That real existence is called The true self, which is the origin of life and the essence of the world, is also called the Brahman self, and the perceivable world we live in is transformed from it. If you ask the wise men in the East, why does the Brahman self create such an ever-changing Landscape, he will tell you that it is to relieve boredom. Brahman is a complete and perfect being, not driven by purpose or motivation. Both purpose and motivation imply potential desires, and as a complete and perfect being, Brahman No change is required, so its actions are purposeless, like princes playing with children, an unconscious exultation. The world is its playground, and so is the soul."

"I don't entirely resent such an explanation," the doctor muttered, smiling, "but the irony is that it doesn't really explain anything." But he is wary and suspicious.He realized that he should have shown more respect for what Frith had just said.I saw Ferris showing a serious expression like an ascetic monk. His previous radiance was gone, and he was replaced by a face that was painful due to thinking.But can you judge a book by its cover?A venerable scholar or saint can harbor a vulgar and frivolous soul.Socrates is ugly, with a flat nose, protruding eyes, thick lips, and a bulky belly. He looks like Silenus, the god of the forest, but he is full of wisdom and admirably clean.

Frith sighed softly. "I was fascinated by yoga for a while, but it was only a spin-off of Sankhya. Its materialism made no sense. Those austerities were just plain stupid. The purpose of yoga is to fully understand The essence of the soul, and those unemotional, abstract and rigid movements will not benefit people more than religious rituals. I have made a lot of notes, and I must organize them when I have time and publish a book. This I've been thinking about it for twenty years." "Don't you still have time to bask in the sun here?" said the doctor coldly. "There's so much to do. I've been translating The Song of the Lugitanians for the last four years, by Camões. I miss some chapters for you, nobody here has a taste for poetry Christensen is a Dane, I can't trust his ears."

"Didn't there be a translation before?" "Yes, Burton has translated, and many others have. But poor Burton is not a poet, and his translation is unbearable. Every generation retranslates great works, and my aim is not only To translate the meaning of the original work, it is necessary to retain the rhythm and musicality of the original work, and to translate the charm of poetry." "How did you come up with this?" "This is the last grand epic. After all, my book can only win a small group of special readers in Vedanta. For the sake of my daughter, I think that some works that are familiar to more people should be translated. I have nothing, This house belongs to old Swan, and my translation of "Song of the Lugitanians" is my daughter's dowry, and I will give her every penny I earn from this translation as a dowry. More than that, I will go down in history because of this book, and my fame will be her dowry."

Dr. Sanders said nothing.It seems strange that the man here is trying to earn money and fame by translating a Portuguese epic that almost no one wants to buy and read.The doctor shrugged indulgently. "A lot of things just happened out of nowhere," he went on, his face grave and serious, "and I can't believe I took this job by chance. You know, Cammons was here too. This island, he is a fighter of fate and a poet. He must have stood in the fort and looked out at the sea like me. But I am a headmaster, why do I come here? When I left Cambridge, There was an opportunity to come to the East, and I took it right away, because the East was my childhood dream. However, I couldn't cope with the daily affairs of the school, and I couldn't bear the people I had to get along with. I It was in the Federation of Malays at the time, so I wondered if it would be better to go to Borneo, and the result was the same. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I quit. I used to be in an office in Kolkata, and later opened in Singapore. I opened a bookstore, but it didn't make a profit. I opened a hotel in Bali, but I couldn't even make a living. I ended up drifting here like Cammons. Coincidentally, my My wife was also called Catherine, and so was Cammons' great love, and it was for her that the great epic was written. Of course, if there was anything that made me finally make up my mind, it was the Hindu term for reincarnation. I sometimes I was thinking, maybe the fire that burned in the soul of Camões back then came back to my body and is burning my soul. When I read "Song of the Lugitanians", I often feel that those verses are very familiar, It's like I've been exposed to it for a long time, and I can't believe I'm reading it for the first time. Pedro once said that "The Song of the Lugitanians" has a flaw, it is neither short and easy to read It can be memorized by heart, but it is not long enough to die without a problem."

He gave a disapproving smile, as if being overly flattered. "Oh, here's Louise," he said, "it looks like supper is ready." The doctor turned away.Louise wore a sarong of green silk intricately woven with gold thread.The whole skirt is glowing with soft and bright colors.This is a Javanese sarong, resembling the costumes worn by the Sultan's concubines for state celebrations in Yogyakarta.The dress fit perfectly, hugging her delicate nipples and small buttocks tightly, leaving her chest and long legs exposed.She was wearing a pair of green high-heeled shoes with a sarong on her upper body, which made her look even more charming.Her blond, somewhat whitish hair was pulled up high in a simple bun, against the backdrop of the elegant green-gold sarong, she was stunningly beautiful.She is breathtakingly beautiful.This green sarong must have been washed in spices, or she had sprinkled perfume on her body, and everyone could smell a faint, inexplicable fragrance when she walked beside them.This fragrance confuses people's nerves, and a lazy feeling floods the whole body.It was a secret recipe in some prince's palace on the island--so everyone who smelled it would have guessed.

"Where did such a beautiful dress come from?" Frith asked, his crumbling front teeth shook, and there was a smile in his light-colored eyes. "Eric gave me the dress the other day, so I thought today would be the perfect day to wear it." She gave Eric a friendly smile and thanked him again. "This dress is old," Frith said. "It must have cost a fortune, Christensen. You're spoiling the kid." "It's for a bad debt. I can't refuse. I know Louise likes green." A Malay servant brought a large bowl of soup and placed it in the center of the table. "Louise, how about having Dr. Saunders sit on your right and Captain Nichols on your left?" Frith said majestically. "Why put her between two old men?" said old Swan suddenly. "Put her between Eric and that boy." "I don't see any reason for not following the customs of civilized society," said Frith with authority. "Are you trying to show off?" "Doctor, would you like to sit next to me?" Frith said, ignoring old Swan. "Captain Nichols would not mind sitting on my left." Old Swan scrambled to his usual place, and Frith ladled out the soup. "In my opinion, they are a pair of liars." The old man said, casting a sharp look at the captain and the doctor. "Eric, where did you get these people?" "It's mean of you to say that, Mr. Swann," said Frith, handing him a plate of soup sullenly.The soup passed along the table to old Swann. "I meant no harm," Swan said. "That's all right," said Captain Nichols, with a great voice. "Nobody has been so quick to say I look like a liar, and generally like a jackass. I'm sure a different doctor would say the same thing. When What do you really mean when someone calls you a liar? It means he admits you're smarter than he is, that's all, Mr. Swan, I ask you, am I right?" "I can tell a liar at a glance," said old Swan. "I saw too much when I was young, and I was a liar sometimes myself." He giggled. "Who isn't!" said Nichols, wiping the corners of his mouth, which he always smeared when he drank soup, "I always say, accept life as it is, and let it be. You have to learn to compromise, that’s what it is. Ask anyone on the road how the British Empire got to where it is, and the key is to compromise.” Frith lifted his lower lip nimbly, sipping the soup from his gray mustache. "I think it's just a matter of character. I'm not interested in compromising, I have other priorities." "I bet you'll have to do it for someone else in the end," said old Swan, with a snort of a laugh. "You're a born idler, George. You did a lot of work when you were young, but you didn't stick to the last one." Frith smiled indulgently at the doctor, as if to say that such an accusation was too much for a scholar who had spent twenty years studying the highly abstract Hindu mysteries and who was probably the reincarnation of a famous Portuguese poet. It's ridiculous. "My whole life has been in search of truth, and truth cannot be compromised. A European would ask, what is the use of truth, but to an Indian tinsmith it is not a means but an end. Truth is life The purpose. Many years ago, I was chasing the world that I have now abandoned. I went to the Dutch pub and saw the illustrated newspaper with pictures of London, and my heart ached. But now I understand, Only hermits can understand the true meaning of human civilization. After a lot of troubles, I finally realized that it is those of us who have left our homes who benefit the most. Because knowledge is the only way, and this way will take you anywhere." At this time, the servant brought three skinny, white and tasteless chickens. He stood up and picked up the meat-cutting knife. "It is the duty and courtesy of the master," he said cheerfully. Old Swan didn't say a word, just hunched over in his chair like an earth god.He gulped down the soup on his plate, when suddenly he said in his hoarse voice: "I've been in New Guinea for seven years. Really, I speak all the languages ​​there. Go to Port Moresby and ask about Jack Swan, someone will remember me. I was the first to walk across the island White man. Morton tried it later, with no weapons but a cane, but he had guards and I was alone. Everyone thought I was dead, and when I got back to town they still Thought I was a ghost. I also hunted birds of paradise with a fellow New Zealander who was a bank manager and got into trouble and quit. We had our own clipper boat that went down from Merauke Going out to sea on the coast, you can catch a lot of birds. Those birds are worth a lot of money. We are very friendly to the locals, buy them a drink and give them a cigarette from time to time. One day I went to catch birds by myself in a small boat. When I got back I was paddling towards the clipper and was about to yell at my partner to pick me up when I saw a few locals on the boat. We never let them aboard and I thought for sure Something happened. I hid and stood there watching, really, I didn't like that at all. I tiptoed into the boat and saw my boat had been pulled ashore by some locals Swimming up to the clippers and I can't figure out what they're up to. I hit something and my gosh my heart is going to pop out. Do you know what it is? It's my friend's body with his head chopped off When I got down, there was still a large pool of blood gushing from the wound. I dare not stay any longer. If they caught me, I would end up in the same way. The reason why they were on the clipper boat was to wait for me, and I had to run for my life. Okay, the sooner the better. There are stories on the way to escape. Really, my experience is enough to write a thick book. I met an old man, the patriarch of a big village. He thinks highly of me and wants to recognize me Be a son, marry me a lot of wives, and say that you will pass on the position of patriarch to me. I was very skillful when I was young, and I was a sailor or something. I have seen a lot, and there is nothing I can't do I stayed there for three months, but unfortunately I was a Lengtouqing at the time, otherwise I should have stayed there forever, he is a very powerful patriarch, I would have had the opportunity to be the king, the king of Cannibal Island." As before, he laughed shrillly when he finished speaking, and then fell silent again.But this silence was strange, because he seemed to notice what was going on around him, but still went his own way.This sudden memory had nothing to do with the previous conversation. It was like a machine, controlled by an invisible clock, which automatically sprang out a series of chattering chatter every once in a while.Dr. Saunders watched Frith, feeling puzzled about the man.What Ferris said was not boring, and sometimes it was really new to the doctor, but his demeanor made people involuntarily cautious when listening to him.He seemed sincere, his tone even dignified, but there was something in him that baffled the doctor.It was strange that a man of action like Old Swan and a man like Frith who had spent his life in meditation could end up spending the rest of their lives together on this lonely island.No matter what kind of experience they have had, the final outcome is the same.The explorer's troubles and dangers end in a comfortable and decent life, just as the philosopher's life struggles to acquire noble ideas. After dividing the chicken on the plate into seven portions, Frith sat down with satisfaction and ate boiled potatoes. "The idea of ​​Brahman has always fascinated me. It believes that people should search up and down when they are young, assume the responsibility and etiquette of being the head of the family when they are young, and meditate and think about the absolute in their old age." He said. Turning to Dr. Sanders, he said. He glanced at old Swan, and saw that he was hunched over in a chair, gnawing on a chicken leg with great difficulty.Then his eyes fell on Louise again. "It won't be long before I'm freed from the responsibilities of adulthood, when I can pack my bags and go out into the world in search of the truth that leads to all meaning." The doctor's eyes followed Frith's, passed old Swann and Louise, and lingered on Louise for a moment.She sat at the end of the long table, surrounded by two young men.Fred, who had always been silent, was now eloquent.At this time, the gloom on his face was swept away, his expression was calm and straightforward, carefree, just like a child.He was full of witty remarks and beamed with joy.There was a soft and moving luster in his eyes, revealing his desire to win the heart.Dr. Saunders smiled as he witnessed how charming Fred was.He is not shy when it comes to women, he knows how to please them.And the lightheartedness and lively enthusiasm in the girl's gestures and gestures are enough to show that she has been deeply attracted by Fred.The doctor listened to their conversation.They talked about all kinds of competitions in Landfield, sunbathing on Manly Beach, movie theaters, the beauty of Sydney, in short, these are the topics that young people are willing to talk about, because for them, new experiences are so interesting.Erik sat beside him, hulking and with a huge boxy head, a friendly smile on his ugly but not obnoxious face.He could not help being delighted to see the guests he had brought perform so well.Fred's radiant charm gave him a warm tinge of self-satisfaction. After dinner, Louise walked up to old Swan and put her hand on his shoulder. "Grandpa, you have to go to bed." "Let me finish the rum, Louise." "Then drink quickly." Old Swann's sly, cloudy old eyes were fixed on the glass in front of him, and Louise poured him a large glass of wine, and then added a little water. "Put something on the phonograph, Eric," she said. The Dane did as she was told. "Can you dance, Fred?" he asked. "Who wouldn't?" "I can not dance." Fred stood up, looked at Louise, and bent down in an inviting gesture.She smiled.He took her hand and held her waist, and the two danced to the music.The two of them were a match made in heaven.Standing by the gramophone with Eric, the doctor is surprised to discover that Fred is a good dancer.His dance steps are unbelievably graceful.And he had a knack for making his partner look as good as he was—not inferior, not better, but just blending in with his steps.He had a gift for making her dance steps his own, so that she followed him naturally and the whole dance flowed.The foxtrot they danced was a joy of graceful beauty because of him. "You dance well, young man," said the doctor at the end of the piece. "That's all I know," Fred replied, a smile on his lips. He was so aware of his extraordinary talent that he took it for granted that praise meant little to him.Louise looked at the floor seriously with her head down, and suddenly she seemed to remember something. "I have to take care of grandpa to sleep." She walked over to old Swann.He was holding the empty wine glass, still wanting to have another drink, Louise leaned against him, coaxed and coaxed him out of the seat.He took his granddaughter's arm, took steps smaller than Louise's, and walked out of the room with her unsteadily. "How about a game of bridge?" Frith asked. "Can the gentlemen play it?" "I will," said the captain. "I wonder if the doctor and Fred will." "If it's three missing one, I'll make it up," Dr. Saunders said. "Christensen played really well, too." "I don't play," Fred said. "It's okay," Frith said. "We've got enough." Eric brought a bridge table, the green felt patched and worn out.Frith brought two bags of greasy cards.They brought four chairs, divided into groups, and cut the cards.Fred stood by the phonograph, very alert, as if on a spring, vibrating rhythmically and then gradually stilling.He didn't move when Louise came back, but he had a good-natured smile in his eyes.There was a sense of familiarity in the warm eyes, which was neither offensive, but also made her feel as if she had known him for many years. "Can I play another song?" he asked. "No, they'll be mad." "I must dance with you again." "Dad was serious when he played bridge with Eric." He walked with her to the card table.He stood for a moment behind Captain Nichols.The captain glanced at him uncomfortably, and when he had played a foul hand, he turned irritably and said: "Don't stand behind me with your hands tied! Nothing can be done! Nothing could make me feel worse." "I'm so sorry, old man." "Let's go out," Louise said. This living room opened onto the verandah, and they went out together.In the bright starlight there loomed the towering Javan olives outside the little garden, and below them, in a dense dark clump, was the emerald green nutmeg.They came to the top of the steps.On one side of them grew a large bush, and the whole bush was brightened by the darting of the glow-worms.The fireflies flew in groups, emitting a light yellow light gently, just like the radiance emitted by a silent soul.For a moment they stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing into the night.Then he took her hand and led her down the steps.They walked along the path until they reached the entrance of the manor.She let him hold her hand in his, as if it was a perfectly natural thing to do. "Don't you play bridge?" she asked. "Of course I did." "Then why not join them?" "I do not want." It was dark under the nutmeg tree.The white dove perched on the branch also fell asleep, the darkness was silent, the only sound was the fluttering sound of the dove flapping its wings for some reason.There is no wind in the air, mixed with a hazy fragrance, so soft that one can feel that the air is touching every pore of the body, just like feeling surrounded by water when swimming.Fireflies circled ahead of the path, zigzagging like drunks stumbling down a deserted street.They walked in silence for a while.Then he stopped, gently embraced her in his arms, and kissed her lips.She wasn't shocked, her body didn't stiffen from surprise, and she didn't show a shy expression.She didn't draw back instinctively, she accepted his embrace like it was supposed to happen.She leaned in his arms, soft but not weak, his arms made her surrender, but she surrendered willingly.They gradually got used to the darkness, and as he looked into her eyes, the azure blue of the sea turned into an unfathomable black.His hand rested on her waist, and the other wrapped around her neck.She rested her head comfortably on his arm. "You're beautiful," he said. "You are also very handsome," she replied. He kissed her again.Soft lips fell to her eyelids. "Kiss me," he whispered. She smiled slightly, cupped his face in her hands, and pressed her lips to his.He took her thin breasts and she sighed softly. "We're going in." She took his hand and walked back slowly side by side. "I love you," he whispered. She didn't answer, but shook his hand tightly.They saw the light coming out of the room, stepped into the room with this light, and felt dazzled for a moment.Eric looked up and smiled at Louise. "Going to the pool?" "No, it's too dark." She sat down, picked up an illustrated Dutch newspaper, looked at the pictures, and put the paper aside again.Her gaze rested on Fred.She stared at him, lost in thought, but there was no expression on her face, as if she was staring at an inanimate object.Fred's eyes flicked to her now and then, and when their eyes met, she gave him a small smile and stood up. "I have to go to bed," she said. She bade them good night.Fred sat behind the doctor and watched their game.They called a truce after the tiebreaker.The old Ford car had come to pick them up, and the four of them got into the car together.After the car drove to the town, the doctor and Eric were sent back to the hotel, and then they drove to the harbor with the rest of the people.