Chapter 6 Yan language

It was just a mediocre town, my hometown.It stood on a barren seaside plain, and the houses were old and gloomy.Nevertheless, I have always thought it a pleasant place, and two birds that are considered sacred to people apparently think so too.In summer, the clouds are light and the sky is high, and there are always ones hovering over the city. They build their own nests on the roof ridge below; when the south wind blows in April, the swallows must also fly back to the city, and the neighbors are very happy. Tell each other: they're back, they're back. ——Now is the season for swallows to return to their nests.In the garden in front of my window, the first violets are blooming; and on the opposite hedge, a swallow has parked, feeding again, and singing their old song:

; The more I listen to this song, the more I miss a long-lost woman for whom I am eternally grateful for some of the good times I had as a teenager. I imagined walking down Long Street until I arrived at St. George's Nursing Home on the edge of town.Like most decent cities in northern Germany, we also have nursing homes in our city.The house in which it is now was built by one of our dukes in the sixteenth century; and then, with the patronage of eager citizens, it gradually developed into a charitable institution of considerable means, for those who had spent their lives in distress. It affords a rather comfortable shelter for the people of the world, where they may live some days of tranquility before attaining their eternal rest. —On one side of the nursing home adjoins St. George's cemetery, where the first religious reformers walked under the tall linden tree;When I was a child, I often saw nuns going to the garden to pick flowers for mass on Sundays.Entering the courtyard from the road outside, you must first pass through a dark doorway under the two large Gothic gables; after entering the courtyard, you must pass through a series of small doors before you reach the interior of the house, which is the spacious chapel. and bedrooms for the elderly.

As a child I used to walk into those dark doorways; for the Basilica of Santa Maria was demolished in danger of collapsing long before I could remember, and for many years the congregation was in St. George's Nursing Home Mass in the chapel. On Sunday mornings in summer, I often linger in the yard, not sure about going to church.At this time, the yard was quiet, filled with the fragrance from the garden next to it. With the change of seasons, it was either osmanthus bamboo, clove, or the melancholy smell of wood and grass. —But that was not the only reason I liked going to church as a child; often, especially on Sundays when I got up early, I would go to the back of the yard and look at a wall of windows upstairs that was red with the sun.Over there, a pair of swallows built a nest for themselves.One of those windows was always open; and whenever I heard my footsteps on the stone pavement, a gray-haired woman poked her head out and nodded kindly down to me.Her hair was parted evenly in the middle, and she wore a little soft white hat on top.

"Good morning, Hansen," I called when I saw her.We children never used her name alone to call our elderly girlfriends; little did we know that she once had such a sweet name as "Agnes."Back then, her blue eyes were still beautiful, but now her gray hair is still golden, so this name must be perfect for her.She was a servant in my grandmother's house for many years, and then, when I was about twelve years old, she was taken into a nursing home as the daughter of a citizen who had served the town.Since then, this most important role for our children has disappeared from the grandmother's house.You know, Hansen can always find something interesting for us to do at any time, and we are obsessed with it without knowing it.She cut paper patterns for my sister's new doll clothes; she asked me to hold a pencil and write various cursive characters according to her requirements, or draw an ancient building according to the rare pictures in her collection. church.It was only after a long time that I noticed that she had a special situation in getting along with us, that is, she never told us a fairy tale or legend, although the folklore in our place is very, very rich.And, whenever someone tried to talk about it, she hastened to stop it, as if it was meaningless or even harmful.However, despite this, she is by no means a cold and unimaginative person.On the contrary, there is no small animal that she does not like.She was particularly fond of swallows, and was very successful in protecting their nests from my grandmother's broom, who, with her Dutch cleanliness, was very thorough about these little intruders.In addition, Hansen seems to have made a careful study of the habits of swallows.I remember one time, I picked up a swallow on the stone floor in the yard, and it looked lifeless, so I sent it to Hansen.

"Pretty little bird is doomed," I said, stroking the swallow's iron-gray feathers sadly; but Hansen shook his head in disapproval. "Is it?" Hansen asked. "He's the queen of birds; as soon as he's free in the air he'll be all right! An eagle must have frightened him to the ground, and he can't fly with his long wings." Then we went into the garden; the little Swallow lay motionless in the palm of my hand, looking at me with her big brown eyes. "Here, let's throw it into the air now!" Hansen said loudly. I was surprised to see that the lifeless swallow, after being thrown from my palm, really spread its wings as swiftly as a human thought, uttered a crisp sound, and flew like an arrow. To the blue sky.

"You'd better go up to the tower and watch it fly," Hansen said. "I'm talking about the bell tower of the old church, and it's the only one that deserves the name." She sighed and touched After touching my face, she went back to the room to do her usual things. "Why is Hansen sighing?" I wondered in my heart. —I did not get the answer to this question until many years later, and from a person I did not know at the time. Hansen is retired now; but her swallows will find her, and our children will find her.Whenever I went into the clean room of this spinster before Mass on Sunday mornings, she was always fully dressed and sitting singing hymns.If I tried to sit down on the sofa stool beside her, she would say:

"Hey, why are you sitting here? You can't see swallows here!" As she spoke, she moved a pot of cowgrass or lilac from the window sill, and let me sit in an armchair under the window. "But don't wave your hands around like that," she added with a broad smile, "You don't see them every day when you're young and lively." Afterwards, I sat quietly, watching those healthy birds flying in the sun, building nests, and feeding young swallows; at the same time, Hansen sat opposite me, talking about the past: my great-grandfather’s house ceremonies, parades at the traditional shooting competitions, and—her favorite subject—the magnificent frescoes and chancels of the old church; I have been baptized.And so on and on, until the sound of the pipe organ came from the church.Only then did she stand up and walk side by side with me through the narrow and long corridor; only a little light came in from the small transom windows with curtains hanging above the doors on both sides, so the corridor was very dark.Occasionally, one of these doors happens to open, and during the few seconds when the sunlight suddenly breaks through the darkness, I see some strangely dressed old men and women walking slyly in the corridor; most of them, I am afraid I withdrew from the public life of the city before I was even born.At this moment, I wanted to ask this and that; but on the way to mass, Hansen would not answer me.We walked forward in silence, and after leaving the corridor, Hansen and her old companions went down a back staircase to the seats for the elderly below; but I climbed upstairs to the choir and watched the organ spinning Reed, start your own dream.Presently the priest ascended the pulpit, but, I confess, his presumably cogent sermons often reached my ears in the monotonous sound of waves from a distant shore; A life-size portrait of an elderly preacher with curly black hair and a strangely trimmed mustache hung near my place, and it often caught my attention very quickly. full attention.With wide, melancholy black eyes, he seemed to be looking forward to a new age in that dreary world of holy signs and witches and other superstitions; and he kept telling me stories of the past in my native land. , as it is recorded in the Chronicles, till the last outrage of some murderous robber-knight; afterward his victim was buried in the old church, and an inscription of this event was carved on the tombstone. —Needless to say, when the organ began to play "God help us to go," I sneaked out first, otherwise it would be a shame for my old girlfriend to test what I just said. Not fun.

Hansen never mentioned her past; I heard her talk about her past for the first time when I was home for vacation one year after I had been a college student for a few years. It was her sixty-fifth birthday in April.As usual, I gave her birthday presents that day: the usual two gold coins from my grandmother, and some trinkets from my siblings.She served me a small glass of Malaga, which she always keeps in the closet at festivals.We chatted for a while, and then I asked her to lead me to the ceremony hall that I had wanted to see for a long time.For centuries, the superintendents of nursing homes have held a feast there to celebrate the end of the year.Hansen agreed to my request, and we walked side by side through the dark corridor to the ceremony hall behind the chapel.On the way down the back stairs I slipped and staggered down the last few steps when a door on the ground floor flung open, revealing the bald head of a man who must have been ninety. .He murmured curses and stared at us with bulging glass balls until we were inside the church.

I know this guy well, the old folks at the nursing home call him "the ghost-seeing guy" because he can really "see things," they say. "His eyes are scary," I said as we walked through the church. Hansen replied: "He can't see you at all; all he can see is his own ridiculous and sinful past life." "But," I retorted jokingly, "he can see the coffin opened in the corner over there, and the ghost who was lying in it is wandering among you like a living person." "That's all speculation, boy. He can't do any more harm now. Originally," Hansen added, "he's not eligible for a nursing home, though he's been a judge's errand for a while; The rest of us were accepted after we first proved ourselves to be innocent citizens."

While we were talking, we had already obtained the key from the person in charge, and walked up the stairs to the ceremony hall above; it was a not particularly spacious room with a low ceiling.On one wall we saw an old-fashioned clock, the relic of some old woman who had died in the yard; on the opposite wall hung a life-size portrait of a man in a plain red jacket.Otherwise, there is no decoration in the interior. “He was the benevolent duke who built this nursing home,” Hansen said. “He was favored and not remembered as much as he wished to be.” "But you still remember him, Hansen."

She looked at me kindly. "Yes, child," she said, "it's the way of my life; it's hard for me to forget." On the wall facing the road and the cemetery, there was a row of windows with leaded frames of small panes, and in each pane a name was burned in black paint, by some venerable townsman known to us. For the family, there is an explanation written under the name, such as "Famous food merchant in this city, died in AD—", and this is the corresponding year at the end. "Look, this is your great-grandfather," Hansen said, pointing to a piece of glass. "I will never forget him as an old man. My father learned crafts from him, and later he often went to ask him for help. It's a pity that he is here In our most difficult years, his old man has closed his eyes." I read another name: "Liborius Michael Hansen, grocer, pawn AD 1799." "This is my father!" Hansen said. "Your father? Then how could you..." "You must be asking, since I am a daughter of a prestigious family, why have I been a servant for half my life, right?" "I mean, what happened to bring misfortune to your family?" Hansen sat down in an old-fashioned leather armchair. "Nothing in particular happened, child," she said. "That was in 1807, when it was practiced; that was the year when crooks got rich and honest people suffered. My father was an honest man." Man, he has carried this reputation to the grave." Hansen was silent for a while, and then continued: "I still remember very clearly that once he and I passed by Shangmin Street, and he pointed to a building that is now gone. The old house that existed told me to see. 'Remember well,' he said to me, 'that in 1579 A.D., when the great fire broke out on the third Sunday after Easter, the pious merchant Meink Gravelet lived here, and when the fire approached his house, he ran out to the middle of the street with a ruler and a scale, and begged God that if he ever knowingly did anything to harm his neighbours, he would , then ask God to burn his house down. As a result, the fire jumped over his house, and everything around it was reduced to ashes.' "'Look, boy,' my father went on, stretching his hands to the sky, 'I can do the same, and God's punishment will skip over our house too.'" - Hansen looking at me s face. "One cannot be complacent," she said then. "You are old enough now that I can tell you these things, and when I am dead you must know what I am.—My father has a weakness, he is superstitious. Because of this weakness, he He did something in those extremely difficult days that broke his heart too, and since then he has never been able to tell the story of the pious businessman. "Adjoining our house lived a master carpenter. After he and his wife both died young, my father acted as guardian to their remaining son. Haller, that was the name of the boy, who was fond of reading, He was then in the fifth grade at our Latin school. However, his parents did not have enough money to support his education, so he had to learn the trade from his own father. After leaving the teacher, he went out to roam for two years and returned to the city. Became a clerk in a master's shop for a while, and before long the whole town knew him to be particularly good at delicate work. We were brought up together, and when he was an apprentice we used to learn from His former schoolmates borrowed books to read to me. You know, my family lived in the house on the market square facing the town hall, and in the garden there still grows a tall beech tree. We used to sit under this zelkova tree and read, while the bees buzzed in the green flowers above our heads!——The situation has not changed since he came back from his wanderings, and he still often comes to my house. Sentence Say, boy, we are in love, and we don't want to keep it a secret. "My mother is dead, and I'll never know what my father thought about it, or if he thought about it. Besides, our relationship hadn't progressed enough to warrant a serious engagement. "One early spring morning, I went to the garden, where the crocuses and yellow buttercups were in bud, and everything around me was full of youthful vigor and vigor, but I was depressed, my father I was also overwhelmed by my sorrow. Although he never spoke to me about his business, I felt that the situation was getting worse and faster. In recent months, I have seen the town hall servants come to his office more often. The ground service. After the visitors left, my father locked himself in the room and did not show up for hours. Several times at lunch, he stood up and left without taking a bite of the food. In the last week, He put the cards back and forth in front of him all night. I pretended to be joking and asked him casually what he was trying to predict; He said 'good night' and went back to his room. "It all weighed on me, and I was so absorbed in my home that I didn't know anything about the bright spring world outside. At this moment, I heard a voice coming from the swamp outside the city. The song of the lark. You know, boy, that a man's heart is so light in youth that even a very tiny bird could fly with it. My mood changed instantly, It was as if all my cares had vanished and the future was full of sunshine; as if I had only to lift my feet and everything would be all right. I still remember how I knelt by the flower beds and watched with delight the buds bursting from the ground one by one. Young green grass. I was thinking of Halle too, and, I believe afterwards, I was thinking only of him. At that moment the garden door opened and I looked up and saw him coming towards me . "Did the larks make him so gay too?—he looked so radiant that way. "'Good morning, Agnes,' he said aloud, 'do you know of anything new?' "'Surely a happy event, Haller?' "'Pretty close; what else would there be! I tell you, I'm going to start my own business as a master, and it won't be long.'—you can imagine, my boy, how surprised I was! I murmured to myself at once. : My God, he also needs a master wife now! "I was probably looking stupid, so Haller asked me: "'What do you think, Agnes?' "'Me, Harrer? I don't think so,' I replied. 'I just think the wind blows like hell.'—I'm obviously lying, but it's God's way that we Can't say what the other person wants to hear. "'I do,' said Haller, 'and I feel like I'm missing the most important thing right now!' "I was silent and said nothing. Haller also walked beside me in silence for a while, and then suddenly asked: "'Do you know, Agnes, that there has ever been a time in the past when a merchant's daughter married a carpenter's son?' "I looked up, and he looked at me imploringly with his kind brown eyes, and I held out my hand to him, and said in the same tone as he had: "'I suppose it's the first time this will happen.' "'Agnes,' cried Haller, 'but what will they say?' "'I don't know that, Haller.—But what if the merchant's daughter is poor?' "'What does it matter to be poor, Agnes?' He took my hand cheerfully. 'Isn't it enough to be young and beautiful?' "That was my happy day! The spring was beautiful, and we walked hand in hand. Although we were silent, there were hundreds of larks singing and crowing in the sky. Before we knew it, we walked When I got to the wall of elder trees that faced the house, there was a deep well, and I leaned over the wooden fence and looked at the bottom of the well. "'Look at the glistening water down there!' "Happiness expands the heart, and Haller wanted to tease me. "'Water?' said he. 'There's gold shining there!' "I don't understand what he means. "'Don't you know that there is treasure buried in this well in your house?' he went on. 'Look at the bottom of the well sits a Linde in gray and wearing a three-cornered hat. .He is the keeper of the treasure, and what shines is only a lamp held in his hand.' "Father's embarrassment suddenly flashed into my mind. At this moment, Haller started to throw a stone into the well; but after a while, there was a heavy echo from below. "'Did you hear, Agnes,' said he, 'it hit the chest.' "'Halle, don't you babble!' I exclaimed. 'Look at you silly!' "'I just say what I say!' he replied. "But what he said aroused my curiosity, and at the same time, perhaps, my hope that the treasures beneath the earth might indeed be obtained, and that all suffering would be brought to an end. "'Where did you hear that?' I asked again. 'I've never heard of it.' "Halle looked at me with a smile and said, 'What can I say! Anyway, it's either Hans or Kunz, but in the end, I think it's that rascal, the so-called gold-maker who said it.' "'The man who can make gold said it?'——At this moment, I thought of many things. This so-called man who can make gold was originally a depraved vagrant. He claimed to be able to pray for disaster relief and cast spells for humans and animals. Healed, and had other mystical powers by which he made a fortune among the credulous people of his day. He is what is now called the man who saw ghosts. That is what he is called today. Just like the one back then, he deserved it. Back then. In the last few days, because I happened to be doing something in the outhouse, I saw him enter my father's office several times. Every time he behaved cowardly. Ask: "Is Mr. Hansen at home?" But without waiting for my answer, he slipped past me with a look of panic. Once he stayed inside for a full hour. Before he left, I heard my father open the writing desk. A familiar voice, and then I seemed to hear the tinkling of money. Only now did I understand what was going on. "Halle touched me. "'Agnes, are you dreaming?' he asked aloud, 'or are you thinking of the treasure?' "Well, Haller doesn't understand how difficult my father's situation is. Now all he can think about is his bright future, and I'm a part of him." He grabbed my hands and exclaimed excitedly road: "'We don't need any treasure, Agnes. Your father took that little inheritance for me, and that's enough for me to buy a house and a carpentry workshop. As for everything else,' he said, smiling. Added, 'Let the not-so-dumb hands do it!' "Haler's words were full of hope, but I was speechless. All I could think of was the treasure and the man who could make gold. My chest was full of panic, but I didn't know what was oppressing it was a crazy hope. Or a presentiment of imminent disaster. Perhaps I have a presentiment that soon my life's happiness will fall into this well. "The next day, at the request of a relative who works as a pastor in a nearby countryside, I went to help nurse their sick child. But after I got there, I was always worried. In recent days, my father has been very silent and irritable. I saw him running back and forth in the garden by himself, and at the end he stood by the well again, staring into the well in a daze. I became worried, lest he would kill me. On the third day, I remembered his eager urging The state of my absence from home, therefore, made my mind still more disturbed in the evening, and as the moon rose about ten o'clock, I asked my cousin to take me back to town that night. He tried to persuade me to rest assured, but it was still useless, so I had to go to set up a car.When the carriage pulled up at my house, twelve o'clock struck on the clock tower.It seemed that everyone in the family had fallen asleep. I knocked on the door for a long time before I heard the sound of the bolt being undone inside.An apprentice who was sleeping next to the downstairs hall came and opened the door for me.It's business as usual at home. "'Is sir home?' I asked. "'Sir went to bed at ten o'clock,' he answered. "I went back with ease to my upstairs bedroom, the window of which looked out on the garden.—the moon was shining brightly outside the window, and I walked up to the window without lighting the lamp. The moon hung on the elder-tree wall The tip of the tree, the branches not yet leafed, clearly appeared in the night sky. My thoughts followed the gaze beyond the horizon, and flew to the side of the great and merciful Lord, and poured out all my worries to him.—Behold, when I was about to When I went back to the room, I suddenly found a red light shooting out from the mouth of the well under the shadow of the tree. The grass on the side of the well and the branches on the top were all shining like tobacco and alcohol in a golden flame, which was vividly visible. A superstitious horror overcame me, and I thought of the candle in the hand of the gray dwarf sitting in the well. But when I looked more closely, I saw a ladder leaning against the side of the well; Looking in, I could only see the top of it. But at this moment, I heard a cry from the bottom of the well, followed by a thump, thump, and muffled voices. The light suddenly went out, Immediately afterwards I clearly heard someone climbing up the ladder step by step. "My fear of the ghost was gone, replaced by an inexplicable worry for my father. Shaking on my knees, I went to his bedroom next to mine. I saw the moonlight shining on a pair of empty pillows, and my father's poor head must not have found peace on this pillow for a long time. They lay there tonight, untouched by him. I Going down the stairs to the garden door, I was terribly frightened, but the door was locked and the key was removed. I turned into the kitchen, lit the lamp, and then passed the office, where the windows were likewise. Towards the garden. I stood at the window for a while, staring out of the window, bewildered. I heard footsteps in the elderberry bushes, but could not make out anything, for the moonlight was good, but behind the trees The grating still cast a dark shadow. At this moment, I heard the sound of someone opening the garden gate from outside, and then the office door opened, and my father walked in.—I am very old now , but the scene at that time is still vivid. My father's long gray hair was dripping with water and sweat; the clothes that were usually kept clean were covered with green mud. "When he saw me, he shuddered violently. "'What's the matter! Why come back now?' he asked gruffly. "'My cousin sent me, papa!' "'Middle of the night?—he shouldn't be!' "I watched my father. He stood there with his head down, motionless. "'I am always afraid,' said I, 'that I am always at home, and that I must come back to you.' "The old man slumped in a chair and covered his face with his hands. "'Go back to your room,' he murmured, 'I wish to be alone.' "But I didn't go. 'Leave me with you,' I whispered. "However, my father didn't hear what I said. He raised his head, as if listening to something outside the window. Suddenly, he jumped up. "'Shut up!' he cried, 'do you hear that?' and stared at me wide-eyed. "I went to the window and looked out. There was no silence in the garden except for the sound of the elder-trees clashing against each other in the night wind. "'I can't hear anything!' I replied. "My father still stood there, as if listening to something that filled him with terror. "'I don't think it's a crime,' he said to himself, 'it's no crime, and besides, it hasn't been in my house, at least so far.' Then he turned to me. 'I know, boy, you don't believe this,' said he, 'but it's absolutely true. I've tried three times with my lucky stick, and I've proved that the information I paid a high price for is correct, and in our There is indeed a treasure hidden in the well of the house, which was buried when the Swedes came. Why should I not bring it up!—so we plugged the spring, scoured the well, and set to work this night dug up.' "'We?' I asked. 'Who else are you talking about?' "'He's just a guy in town who can do that.' "'Didn't you say the guy who made gold? He's not a good helper!' "'It's not a crime to hunt treasure by the law of luck, boy!' "'But those who play such tricks, they are liars!' "My father sat down on the chair again, staring at the front blankly. At the end, he shook his head and said: "'The pickaxe has hit it and made a noise, but now something strange has happened.'—he paused, and then continued, 'Your mother died eighteen years ago. Before she knew she was When he was about to leave us, he suddenly cried bitterly until the god of death put her to sleep. This cry is the last sound I heard from your mother.' He was silent for a while, but then he hesitated to speak, as if As if afraid to hear my own voice." Tonight, at the moment when the head of the pot hit the treasure chest, I heard your mother's cry for the first time in eighteen years. It not only rang in my ears like these years, It came out from under my feet, from the ground.—People say you can’t talk when you’re digging treasure, but I feel like the pick has dug into the heart of your free mother.—I yelled, And the lights went out. Dark—you see,' he added in a low voice, 'and now it's all gone again.' "I knelt at my father's feet and put my arms around his neck. "'I am not a child any more,' said I, 'let us live together, father, and I know that misfortune has happened to our family.' "My father didn't say a word, but he rested his sweaty forehead on my shoulder, and for the first time in his life, he found support from his own child. How long we sat like this, I don't know. I just felt, I There were hot tears on my cheeks, hot tears pouring from my father's old eyes. I hugged him. "'Don't cry, Papa,' I begged, 'we can get through poverty.' "He stroked my hair with trembling hands, and his voice was so low, so low, that I could hardly hear what he was saying! "'Poverty, my boy, is bearable, but debt is not!' "Since then, my boy, my family has had a hard time; but on the other hand, it was the period of my life when I had the greatest comfort, and I still think so, even now in my old age. For, first of all, I For the first time, I can do my filial piety to my father as a daughter. Since then, I have become his most precious asset. After a while, I will become the only thing he can call himself in the world. I sit with my father , tears swallowed secretly, and listened to him confiding his difficulties to me. Only then did I know that my father was on the verge of bankruptcy, and bankruptcy was not the worst thing for him. In one sleepless night, he Tossing and turning on the bed, unable to find a way out of the predicament, at this time, the legend about the treasure in my well came to his mind again. Since then, it has been chasing my father closely, opening the account books during the day, He was in a trance, sleeping on the bed at night, and his dreams were disturbed. In the dream, he saw thousands of golden lights shooting out of the dark well. When he got up, he couldn't help running to the well again and again, looking at the mysterious The unfathomable abyss was in a daze. In the end, he went to ask the wicked man for help. The villain refused to agree immediately, and beat him hard, saying that it was for some preparation. My poor father I was led by the nose, paid a sum of money, and paid another sum of money. In the end, Jin Yu in the dream swallowed the real gold in hand. What's worse is that the money is not my father's own, but was taken by the father. The guardian Haller entrusted him with the custody of the inheritance. We counted and counted, but we couldn't think of anything that could be given to Haller as compensation. We had no relatives who could support us. Your grandfather was no longer alive at the time. Finally, we admit to ourselves that there is no way out in this world. "The light went out, and I rested my head on my father's chest, put my hands in his palms, and sat in the darkness for a long time. What kind of heart-to-heart conversations did my father and I have later, I can't remember them today. Before this, my father was a perfect man with no faults in my eyes, just like God; but that night, he told me that he had done something that would definitely be regarded as a crime by the world. However But at this very moment, I felt a sacred feeling for him in my heart that I had never felt before.—The stars in the sky outside the window were growing pale, and in the elder bushes a little bird began to sing,第一抹晨曦投射进了我们朦胧的房中。我父亲站起来，走到放着一大叠账簿的写字台边。墙上那幅真人大小的画像上的祖父，头戴发囊，身穿浅黄色短袖马甲，似乎正用严厉的目光俯视着自己的儿子。 “'我要再算算，'父亲说，'要是结果还是老样子，'他跟请求宽恕似地瞅了瞅祖父的画像，迟疑地加了一句，'那我的下一步就难了，因为我不得不去求上帝和世人怜悯我。' “我按他的希望离开了写字间，不久房子里也有了人声，天已大亮了。我做完了必须做的事，走进花园，再从后门到了街上。哈勒每天早晨去他当时干活儿的工场，总要打这儿经过。 “我不需要等多久，钟一敲六点，就看见他来了。 “'哈勒，等一等！'我说，同时招手让他跟我进花园里去。 “他惊异地望着我，可能从我脸上已看出不幸来了吧。我把他拉到园里一个角落上，握着他的手，好半天吐不出一个字。临了儿，我还是一五一十告诉了他，然后求他说： “'我父亲要来找你，你可别对他太狠呀。' “哈勒顿时脸色苍白，眼神也变得使我害怕起来，他也许只是完全绝望了。 “'哈勒，哈勒，你该不会把老人怎么样吧？' “他把我的手按在他胸口上，惨笑着望着我。 “'绝不会怎么样，'他说，'只是我必须马上离开此地。' “我吓了一跳。——'干吗呢？'我结结巴巴地问。 “'我不能再看见你父亲。' “'你会原谅他的，对吧，哈勒？' “'会，阿格妮丝，我欠他的，比地欠我的，还多啊。尽管这样——没必要让他在我面前低下他白发的头。再说——'他像顺便加了一句似的，'再说，我觉得眼下也还不是自己能当师傅的时候。' “我听了什么也没讲，我只看见，那昨天伸手就可摸到的幸福，如今已消失在渺茫的远方。可是又毫无办法，看来哈勒所要走的，便是最好的出路。 “'你几时动身，哈勒？'我只再问了一句，而自己几乎不知道自己在说什么。 “'你留心别让你父亲今天来找我就是了，'他回答，'到明天早上，我便会料理好这儿的一切，别为我难过伤心，我会很容易找到一个安身之处的。' “说完这些话，我们便分了手；两人谁都心事重重，再也谈不下去。” 讲故事的老处女停了片刻，然后又说： “第二天早上，我又见了他一次，以后，就再没见着，在我整个漫长的一生中，也再没见着。” 她把头耷拉在胸前，两手暗暗在怀中绞扭着，以此克制内心的哀痛。从前，这哀痛时时侵袭那个金发少女的心，今天，它仍使者处女衰朽的身躯战栗不已啊。 不过，她这么垂头丧气的并没多久；一会儿，她便强打起精神，从椅子里站起来走到窗前去了。 “我有什么好抱怨的呢！”她用手指着那块饶有她父亲名字的玻璃说，“这个人吃的苦比我多。让我还是再讲讲他的事吧。—— “哈勒走了，他写了一封诚恳的信向我父亲告别，从此两人再也没有见面。不久，人家对我父亲采取了最后的法律手段，决定当即公开宣布他破产。 “从前，从前我们城里发布通告的流行办法，不像今天这样在教堂里由牧师在讲道之后代念，而是在市政厅敞开的窗口上，由市府的秘书当众高声宣读，而在这之前，钟楼上将鸣小钟半小时。我家正住在市政厅对面，所以每当钟声响起，便看见小孩子们和一班游手好闲的人聚到市政厅的窗下，或者站在市政厅地窖酒馆前的台阶上。宣布一个人破产的方式也如此，所以久而久之人们把这做法本身也当成了一件坏事，使'敲某某人的钟'变成了一句咒骂人的话。——过去我自己也漫不经心地去听听，可现在，一想到那钟声就不寒而采，生怕它会给我本已一蹶不振的父亲以心灵上的打击。 “他悄悄告诉我，他已就这事请求一位要好的市参议向市长疏通。市参议是一位好心肠的牛皮匠，向我父亲打保票说，这次宣布他破产时一定不敲钟。可我从可靠方面打听到，这张保票靠不住。因此我一方面既让父亲继续相信这无害的谎言，另一方面却极力劝说他，让他到那天和我去作一次短暂的旅行，到乡下一位亲戚家里去。然而父亲苦笑了笑，回答说，他在自己的船完全沉没之前绝不离开。忧惧之中，我突然想起我家拱顶地窖紧里边隔出的那间小库房来，在那里头，是从来听不见钟声的。我便据此情况定下一个计策，而且也成功地说动了父亲，让他和我一起去开一张库里存货的清单，好使日后法院的人来点收财产的难堪的手续简短一些。 “当那可悲的时刻到来时，我和父亲早已在地窖中做起自己的工作来了。父亲将货物归类，我则就着灯光把他口授的数字写在一张纸上。有几次，我似乎听见远远地传来了嗡嗡的钟声，便故意提高嗓门讲这讲那，直到木桶和货箱推来搬去发出巨响，把所有从外界侵入的声音都吞噬掉。事情看来完全顺利，我父亲也干得十分专心。可谁知突然之间，我听见外面地窖的门开了，我已记不起为了什么事，我们的老女仆来叫我，而随之传进来的，是一阵阵清脆的钟声。我父亲侧耳听着，让手中的货箱掉到了地上。 “'这耻辱的钟声啊！'他长叹一声，便无力地倚在墙上。'真一点也逃不脱哩！'——但转眼间，我还没来得及讲一句话，他便站起身，冲出库房，沿着楼梯嗵嗵嗵地跑到地窖外面去了。我随即也跑上去，在写字间里没寻见他，最后到起坐间里才发现，他正两手相握着，站在大开着的窗前。这当儿钟声停了，在对面晨光朗照的市政厅，有三扇窗户被推开来，市府的差役把一个个红绒坐垫放在靠窗的长椅上；同时，市政厅前那些石阶的铁栏杆上，已经爬满了一大群半大的顽童。我父亲呆呆立着，两眼紧张地盯着对面。我轻言细语地想劝他走开，可他不听我的。 “'你甭管，孩子，'他说，'这事跟我有关，我必须听听。' “这样，他留了下来。一会儿，头戴扑了白粉的假发的市府老秘书，出现在当中的一扇窗前，当他旁边的两位市参议在红城坐垫上把身子靠好以后，他便拉长自己那尖嗓子，宣读起他双手捧在眼前的判决书来。在春日的宁静气氛中，一字一句都清清楚楚地灌进了我们的耳鼓。当父亲听见自己的名字和姓氏回荡在市集广场上空的一刹那，我看见他的身子猛地震动了一下。可他仍然坚持着听完了，然后便从口袋里掏出他那只祖传的金表来，放到了桌上。 “'它也属于抵押品，'父亲说，'锁进钱箱去吧，明天好一块儿加封。' “第二天，法院来人查封财产，父亲已起不了床，他夜里中风了。——几个月后，我们住的宅子也卖了；我用一来从医院借来的轮椅，把父亲推到了郊外新赁下的一间小房中。在那儿，他还活了九年，这个瘫痪了的身心交瘁的人。他在身体好时也帮人写写算算，但主要的家用，却只靠我这双手去挣。不过后来，他倒是怀着上帝一定会怜悯他的坚强信念，在我的怀抱里平平静静地死去的。——他死后，我到了一些好人家里，也就是你祖父府上。” 我年老的女友不再吱声。我却想到了哈勒。 “这么说，”我问她，“你后来从未得到一点你那位年轻朋友的消息吗？” “一点儿没有，孩子。”她回答。 “你知道吗，汉森，”我说，“我不喜欢你那个哈勒，他这人说话不算话！” 她把手搭在我的胳膊上。“你可不能这么讲，孩子。我了解他这人，再说除去死亡以外，还有另外一些事情也可能叫人身不由己啊。——好啦，咱们回房去吧，你的帽子还在那儿，马上就该吃午饭了。” 我们锁上那空荡荡的典礼厅，循来路往回走。这次那个瞅得见幽灵的人没开门，我们只听见他在门里边的沙土地上一拖一拖的踱步声。 我们回到房中，上午的太阳仍有最后一束光辉射进窗户里来。汉森拉开一个小橱子的抽屉，取出一只桃花心木的区儿；匣儿式样虽然老旧，却打磨得光光的，兴许是小木匠早年送给她的一件生日礼物吧。 “这个也得让你瞧瞧，”她边说边开匣儿。匣中藏着一叠有价证券，持有者的名字全是：哈勒·延森，本城已故木工师傅哈勒·克里斯蒂安·延森之子。然而，证券签发的日期又都不早于最近十年。 “你怎么得到这些证券的？”我问。 She smiled. “我又没白给人家干活儿麻。” “可签的全不是你的名字呀？” “那是因为我父亲欠了人家的债，我来代他还呗。再说，我的遗物和所有死在这儿的人一样，都要归养老院的，所以我当即就请人把这些证券签上了哈勒·延森的名字。”——在把匣儿重新锁进橱子之前，汉森把它放在手上掂了掂。 “宝藏是重新积攒起来啦，”她说，“可幸福呢，那包含在宝藏中的幸福呢，孩子，却一去不复返了。” 汉森说这话时，窗外正飞过一群欢叫的燕子。接着，又有两只扑扑地飞到窗前，唧唧喳喳叫着，落在了窗框上。这是我今年春天看见的头一批燕子。 “你听见那些小贺客了吗，汉森？”我高声喊道，“它们正赶你过生日的时候飞回来啦！” 汉森只点了点头。她那仍然很美丽的蓝眼睛，凄凄惶惶地望着那些唱歌的小朋友。随后，她双手抚着我的胳膊，慈祥地说： “去吧，孩子。我感谢大家，感谢他们想到了我。可眼下，我希望一个人呆着。” 许多年过去了。一次，在我去德国中部旅行后返归故里的途中，我碰见了一个人。那会儿蒸汽时代已经到来。在某个大火车站上，一位白发老人走进了一直只有我独自坐着的车厢小间。他从送行者手中接过一只手提箱，把它推到了坐位下面，客客气气地说了一句“这回咱们算同路啦”，便坐在了对面的位子上。他讲话时，嘴角周围与褐色的眼睛里都现出善良的神气，我简直想称这是一种很把人好感的神气，使你禁不住想和他倾心交谈。他外表整洁，那褐色的呢外套和雪白的领巾尤为显眼；他态度文雅，更令我产生与他亲近的愿望。所以没过一会儿，我俩便开诚相见，彼此诉说起自己的家世来。他告诉我，他是一个钢琴制造师，住在史瓦本邦的一个中等城市里。但我感到奇怪，我的旅伴虽操一口南德方言，可我刚才在他手提箱上看见的却是“延森”这个姓；而据我所知，这只是一个在北德人中才有的姓氏。 我把自己的想法告诉了他，他笑了一笑。 “也许我差不多变成史瓦本人了吧，”他说，“到眼下我住在这个好客的地方已经四十年啦，在这四十年中我还从来没离开过哩。可我的故乡却在北方，所以有这个姓。”接着，他便说出了他出生的那座城市的名字，且正好就是我的故乡。 “这么讲，我们真是老乡啦，”我叫道，“我也是那儿出生的，眼下正准备回去哩。” 老人拉住我的手，亲亲热热地端详起我的面孔来。 “仁慈的主安排得太好了，太好了，”他说，“如果您高兴，咱俩可以同路到底。我打算去的也是咱们的故乡。我希望在那儿和一个人见面——要是上帝允许的话。” 我愉快地接受了这个建议。 在到达当时的铁路终点以后，我们前面还有五英里路程。我们马上换乘舒适的弹簧马车；时值秋高气爽，我们便把车蓬推到了后面。故乡的景物慢慢显现出来，森林消失了。不久，路边上的士埂连同长在上面的活篱笆也不见了，眼前展开一片没有树木的辽阔的平原。我的旅伴凝望着前方，静静地一言不发。 “这样地无边无际，我已经不习惯了啊，”他突然歼了口，“你不管朝哪边望去，都似乎望不到头。”说完，又默不作声了。我也不去打搅他。 路程已走了大约一半，公路在穿过一座小村子以后又伸进了旷野里，这时我发觉老人向前探出脑袋，像是在努力搜寻什么似的。接着，他又把手搭在眼睛上挡住阳光，明显地变得焦躁不安起来。 “我原本视力还挺好的，”他终于又开了口，“可这会儿再怎么用劲儿，也瞅不见城里的钟楼。年轻时漫游归来，我总是从这儿首先向它问好哟。” “您记错了吧，”我应道，“那座矮小的钟楼在这么远的地方是看不见的。” “矮小的钟楼！”老人几乎是生气地嚷道，“它可是几世纪以来就作为水手们辨别航向的标志，几海里以外都看得清清楚楚呐！” 这一讲，我才恍然大悟。 “噢，原来您想的是老教堂的那座钟楼，”我犹豫地说，“它可在四十年前就给拆掉了。” 老人瞪大两眼瞅着我，好像我在瞎胡扯似的。 “老教堂给拆掉了——四十年前！我的主啊，我在异乡呆了多么久哟，竟从来没有得到过任何一点消息！” 他两手互握着，灰心丧气地缩在角落里，过了半晌才说： “从眼下算起差不多五十年以前，我就在那座如今仅仅留在我记忆中的美丽的钟楼上，向一个人许下了和她再见的诺言；我这次千里迢迢地赶来，就为了找她啊。我现在想对您，要是您愿意听的话，讲一讲我的那段生活，对我希望找的这个人，您没准儿能提供一点儿线索吧。” 我使老人确信我是同情他的，于是，就当我们的车夫在中午温暖的阳光中打着吨儿，马车的轮子慢慢地从沙土地上辑过的时候，老人便讲起了他的故事。 “我年轻时本希望成为一位学者，可由于父母早亡，留下的钱不够供我念书，我便只好重操父业，也就是说当了木匠。早在我漫游外乡给人当伙计的时期，我已有心想选个地方定居下来，因为我多少还有点儿资金，在卖掉父亲的老屋时获得了相当一笔钱，足够使我自己开业。然而，我每次仍旧回到了故乡，为着一个年轻的金发少女的缘故。——我不相信，我多会儿还见过像她那样的蓝色的眼睛。她有一个女朋友曾经打趣她说，'阿格妮丝，我真想把你眼里的紫罗兰给摘出来啊！'她这话我永远也不曾忘记。” 老人沉默了，两眼凝视着前方，好像又看到了他年轻时见过的那时紫罗兰般美丽的眸子。这当儿，我几乎是无意识地，旁若无人地，从嘴里念出了我那位在圣乔治养老院中的老朋友的名字，可老人又开始讲起来了。 “她是一位商人——我的监护人的闺女。我俩自幼一块儿长大。她父亲早年丧妻，她便受着父亲严格的管教，生活相当寂寞，因此，她对自己唯一的小伙伴越来越眷恋。在我漫游回来以后，我俩私下好得差不多订了婚，并且已经商量妥，我就在故乡开业。谁知在这节骨眼上出了意外，我那小小的财产全丢了。我只好又离开故乡。 “动身前一天，阿格妮丝答应当晚到她家花园后的路上来与我话别。我准时到了那里，阿格妮丝却不见来，我站在园篱外的接骨木树影下，倾听着，期待着，结果确是一场空。我当时不能进她父亲的房子里去，并不是因为我们发生了纠葛，相反，我倒相信，他是会爽爽快快把女儿许配给我的，因为他相当器重我，本身又并非一个多么傲慢的人。我不进去另有原因，我希望忘记它，现在就不提了吧。——当时的情形我还记忆犹新。那是一个黑沉沉的四月的晚上，刮着大风，屋顶上风信标发出的响声几次使我产生错觉，我以为听见了熟悉的开门的声音，结果却不见人出来。我仍旧久久地把身子倚在园篱上，眼睛仰望着空中飘过的乌云，临了儿，只得心情沉重地离去。 “我夜不能寐；第二天清晨，当我从自己的小屋里下楼来向房东道别时，钟楼上才刚敲五点。狭窄而坑坑洼洼的街道上还一片昏暗，到处都是冬天留下来的泥泞。城市仿佛仍在梦中。我不想碰见任何一张熟悉的面孔，因此才这么孤独地、哀伤地上了路。可正在我朝教堂公墓方向转过去的当儿，一道强烈的曙光破云而出，古老的市立药房的下部连同狮子招牌虽然还被街里的雾震所笼罩，它那上面的山墙尖顶却已一下子沐浴在春阳之中了。就在我抬头仰望的当口，长空中响起了一声悠扬的号角，接着又是一声，又是一声，恰似在向世界的远方发出呼唤。 “我走进教堂公墓，仰望高耸的钟楼塔尖，却见打钟人站在瞭望台上，手里握着一把长号。我现在明白了：头一批燕子已经归来，老雅各布正吹号欢迎它们，同时向全城居民宣布，春天已回到人间。为了他这份辛劳，老雅各布将免费在市政厅酒窖喝一杯葡萄酒，并从市长那儿得到一个崭新的银元作为犒赏。——我认识雅各布，从前常到他的钟楼上去。起初，我还是个少年，上那儿去是为了放自己的鸽子，后来，便是同阿格妮丝一块儿去，因为老打钟人有个小孙女，阿格妮丝做了她的教母，经常地关心照顾她。有一年圣诞节，我甚至帮着她把一整株圣诞树拖到了高高的钟楼上去。 “这当儿，那熟悉的大橡树门敞开着，我便情不自禁地走进去了。在突然包围着我的黑暗中，我很慢很慢地登上楼梯，楼梯走完，便手攀窄窄的简易梯级往上爬。四周一片岑寂，只有楼上的大钟在不停走着，发出嘎啦嘎啦的响声。我记得很清楚，我那会儿很讨厌这个死东西，真很不得在经过它旁边时扭住它的铁轮子，不让它再走下去。这当儿，我听见雅各布从上面爬下来了，一边好像在对一个孩子讲话，叫孩子要小心走好。我冲黑暗中叫了一声'早上好'，问他是否带上了小梅塔。 “'是你吗，哈勒？'老人应着，'当然，当然，她也得一块儿去见见市长先生。' “祖孙俩终于到了我头顶上，我便退到旁边的墙凹里，让他们下去。雅各布见我一身旅行装束，惊叫了一声： “'怎么，哈勒？瞧你又是手杖，又是雨帽的上咱钟楼来，该不会又要出远门了吧？' “'是的，雅各布，'我回答，'我只希望不要走太久就好啦。' “'可我压根儿想不到你会这样！'老人嘟囔道，'喏，既然非走不可，那就走吧。眼下燕子已经归来，正是出外漫游的最好时光，难为你临走还上咱这儿来。' “'再见吧，雅各布！'我说。'当你又看见我在阳光照耀下走进城门来的时候，你可别忘了像今儿早上欢迎归来的燕子那样，吹起号角来欢迎我啊！' “老人一边跟我握手，一边抱起他的小孙女。 “'没问题，哈勒师傅！'他笑呵呵地大声回答，每当开玩笑时，他总这么称呼我。我正准备转身下楼去，他又加了一句，'怎么，你不想听阿格妮丝对你说一声一路平安吗？在上面，人家一早就来学。她还是那样爱这些燕子啊。' “我恐怕从来也没那么快地爬上这最后几级危险得要命的楼梯了，心剧烈地跳着，气也差点儿喘不过来。可当我到了降望台上，前面一下子出现耀眼的蓝天，我便身不由己地愣住了，目光越过了铁栏杆。我看见在自己脚下很深很深的地方，我的故乡静静地躺着，城中已呈现出一派春意。在一片屋顶的海洋中，这儿那儿地挺立着一棵棵高大的樱桃树，让温暖的春风一吹，便已繁花满枝。在市政厅小钟楼的对面，有一座山字形屋顶，它底下便是我的监护人的家。我眺望着他家的花园和园后的道路，心中充满了离愁别恨，情不自禁地长叹了一声。这当儿，我蓦地觉得有谁拉住了我的手，抬头一看，身边站着阿格妮丝。 “'哈勒，'她说，'你到底来了啊！'说时她脸上漾起了幸福的微笑。 “'我没想到会在这儿见到你，'我回答，'可我马上就得离开，你干吗昨晚上让我空等呢？' “这一间，她脸上的笑意全然消失了。 “'我当时不能来，哈勒，我父亲不让我抽身。过后我跑进花园中，可你已走了，我等你，你没再来。所以今儿一早，我便爬到钟楼上——我心想，我总该目送着你走出城门去吧。' “我当时前途茫茫，但心里总算有个计划。从前我在一家钢琴厂里干过，眼下又希望找一个同样的工作，挣些钱，往后自己也开一家制造钢琴的作坊，那年头这种乐器正开始大兴其时。——我把计划告诉了姑娘，并讲了我最先打算去的地方。 “她身子俯在铁栏上，怅惆地望着渺茫无际的天空。半晌，她慢慢地转过头来，声音低低地说： “'哈勒。别走吧，哈勒！' “我望着地答不出话来，她又高声喊道： “'不，别听我的；我是个孩子，自己也不知道自己说了些什么。' “晨风吹散了她金色的发辫，把它吹到了她耐心地仰对着我的脸上。 “'咱们必须等待，'我说，'眼下幸福存在于遥远的远方；我要碰碰运气，看能不能找它回来。我将不写信给你，只要时候到了，我自己会回来的。' “她用她那对大眼睛望了我好一会儿，然后握住我的手。 “'我等着你，'她语气坚决地说，'愿上帝保佑你一路平安，哈勒！' “可我还没有走。眼前这托负着我俩的钟楼，是如此孤单地耸立在蓝天中，只有那一只只铁青色的翅膀在晨曦中微微闪光的燕子，在空气和光的海洋中游弋。——我久久地握着她的手，心里觉得自己仿佛可以不走了，仿佛我俩，她和我，这时业已摆脱了人世间的一切苦恼似的。——然而时光催人，我们脚下的巨钟轰鸣着，告诉我们一刻钟又已过去。钟声还在塔县周围缭绕，蓦地，一只燕子飞过来，翅膀几乎擦在我们身上，它毫无畏惧地在我们伸手就可抓到的栏杆沿上停下来，在我们像中了魔似地盯着它那闪闪发亮的小眼睛的当儿，它突然放开喉咙，望空唱开了春歌。阿格妮丝一头扑进我的怀中。 “'别忘了回来啊！'她喊着。刹那间，那只鸟儿便一振翅飞去了…… “我已想不起，我是怎样从那黑洞洞的钟楼里走下来，到了平地的。在城门前，我又在大路上停住脚，回首仰望。在那阳光朗照的高高的钟楼上，我清楚地辨出了她那可爱的身姿，我觉得她远远地探出了栏杆，不禁失声惊叫起来。可她呢，仍然一动不动地站在那里。 “终于，我转过身，沿着大路快步走去，再也没回头。” 老人沉默了片刻，然后说道： “她白等了我一场啊，我自此再没有回去。——我这就把事情的缘由告诉您。 “最初我在维也纷找到了工作，那儿有最好的钢琴厂。一年半以后，我从维也纳到了威腾堡，也就是眼下我定居的地方。我厂里一个工友的哥哥当时住在这儿，曾托他帮忙介绍一个可靠的伙计去。我去的这家主人，还是一对年轻夫妇。作坊虽很小，师傅却是一个和气而能干的人；在他手下，我很快便学到了更多的手艺，而在大厂子里，人家却总让我干些零碎活计。我卖力地干着，并把在维也纳讨到的一些经验也用上了，因此不久后，便博得了两位好人的信赖。特别令他们喜欢的是，我在工余还教他们两个男孩中大的一个学德语，他们欣赏我当时的北方口音，说希望自己的孩子将来也能讲这样纯粹的德语。没过多久，小的一个男孩也并始学起来。这时，我已不仅仅教他们语法，而是设法弄来一些书，常常从书中念各式各样有趣而带知识性的故事给他们听。这一来，两个孩子都很依恋我。一年以后，我独立造出了第一架音色异常优美的钢琴，这成了全家的大喜事，就像是他们的一位最亲的亲人，完成了自己的杰作似的。——可我呢，却想到自己该回家啦。 “谁料到，我年轻的师傅这时却病倒了。感冒终于转成肺炎，但病根可能是早已在身体里埋下了的。作坊的营业自然归我照管，这一来我便脱身不得。我和这家人结下了越来越亲密的友谊，对他们目前的处境深感忧虑。全家大小和睦而勤劳，可屋里却住进来了一个凶恶的第三者，好人们怎么赶它，它也不肯出去。在任何一个阳光暂时照不到的角落，病人都看见它蹲着。——这家伙就是忧愁本身。——'快拿扫帚来扫它出去，'我常常对我的朋友说，'我会帮助你的，马丁！'这时候，他多半会握住我的手，苍白的脸上掠过一丝凄苦的笑意，但过不多久、他又会在所有的东西上看见黑色的蜘蛛网。 “可悲的是，这并非纯属幻想。他用以开办作坊的资金，原本就嫌少了一些。且不算头几年，他尽雇到一些拆烂污的人，吃了不少的亏，就说制成品的销售吧，也嫌太慢，再加上，如今又来了个一病不起。临了儿，我一个人不仅要为全家的生计操心，而且还必须安慰几个健康的人。师傅没多久便下不了床，每当我和孩子们坐在他的床沿上，他们就抓住我的手不放。病人呢，像是体力越衰竭，精神倒越活跃似的。他的头靠在枕头上苦思冥想，谋划着将来的事情。有几次，他感到死亡临近的恐怖，陡然一下坐起来，大喊大叫： “'我不能死！我不想死！'但接着，又合起掌来，低声地道，'主啊，主啊，如果你要我死，我也愿意！' “解脱的时刻终于到来，我们全都聚在他的床前。他对我表示了感谢，并一一与我们诀别。可后来，他像突然发现面前有什么可怕的东西，便猛地一把将自己的老婆和两个儿子揽到身边去保护起来，眼神凄惨地望着他们，发出大声的悲叹。我于是劝他： “'别再发愁，马丁，把他们托付给上帝吧！' “可他却绝望地回答： “'哈勒，哈勒，这已经不是忧愁，而是贫困本身！它马上就会从我尸体上爬过来，我的老婆，啊，还有我可爱的孩子，他们都将逃不脱贫困的魔爪啊！' “