Chapter 26 -2

"Still the same. Tomorrow he will go to Da Fondo ④. This one is not all broken. Just yesterday I said to him: 'You go to Da Fondo, take the papers, the case... In the morning, you go for a walk , get some fresh air .. at night, after dinner, sit under the lamp and try to solve the Treasury problem!'" The bell rang.José Sieguera hurried forward with a flushed face, squeezed his way through the crowd, told the minister that the break was over, and offered his arm to the countess.As she walked past Carlos, she reminded him that she was home "every Tuesday" with the simplicity of a duty.He bowed silently.Everything in the past, the sliding couch, her aunt's house in Santa Isabel, the carriage with the scent of verbena on her body, it's like these are things they read in books and then both of them forgot , her husband followed her with his head and glasses raised high, because he represented the government at this cultural evening.

"Hey, everyone, that woman is a little restless!" Aga said and left with Carlos. "What do you think will happen? She used to be muddle-headed and passed the time by talking about love, and now she still lives according to her old routine with peace of mind." "In this routine life," Ega said decisively, "she meets you all the time, because you're the one who's seen her in underwear! . . . the world is so interesting!" At this moment, Alenka appeared on the top step, returning from a drink at the bar.His sunken eyes are brighter, jacket in hand, ready to go on stage and read.The Marquis, wearing a silk scarf, came towards them, complaining even more hoarsely, that his throat was still giving him trouble! .. Then he said to Alenka very seriously: "Hey, is this "Democracy" you are going to recite a political or lyrical? If it is political, I will go. But if it is lyrical Yes, if it's about humanity, holy workers, or philanthropy, I'll stay because I like it, and it's even good for me."

Everyone else asserts lyricism.The poet took off his hat, smoothed his shaggy curly hair with his hands, and said: "I tell you guys...the two are inseparable, look at Danton...but I won't talk about these revolutions Lion. Look at Passus Manuel! Logically, of course.. But alas, I also hate politics without content, without a little God!" Suddenly, voices louder than Ruffino's came out of the quiet hall again, and the names of Don Joao Castro, Afonso Alburgergo and other great men echoed in the hall.People lived and walked by the entrance curiously.It was a ferocious-looking fat man with a goatee and a camellia pinned to his tuxedo. He clenched his fists and waved them above his head, as if waving a banner with a shield.He lamented loudly that the Portuguese, who possessed the estuary of the Tejo River and the famous and glorious tradition, were squandering the precious inheritance of their ancestors without heart! .. "It's patriotism," Ega said. "Let's go!"

But the Marquis held them back, because he, too, was somewhat fond of the great banner with the shield.The patriot stood on tiptoe, raised his body, and roared, as if to question the emaciated Marquis. ④Da Fondo, an area near Lisbon. ① Danton (1759-1794), the leader of the French Revolution. ② Passos Manuel (1801-1862), Portuguese politician. ③The flag of Portugal, which has five shields. Today, who here holds a sword in one hand and a cross in the other, jumps into a sailboat, and brings the name of the Portuguese to all continents and seas that have not yet been known?Who here is brave enough to emulate the great João Castro who uprooted all the fruit trees in his garden in Syndra? Is this also out of the poet's selfless heart? .. "This guy is trying to keep us from eating the last dessert!" Aga shouted.

The people around laughed loudly.The Marquis couldn't understand these vulgar compatriots, so he turned and left.Some yawned with their hands over their mouths, disgusted with "all our glory."Carlos was listless; he stayed purely to applaud Alenka.Just as he was asking Ega to go to the bar below for a walk, he saw Ozebio in a light gray jacket hurrying down the stairs.Carlos had not seen him since the dastardly deed of "The Devil's Horn," for which he was the "messenger."Carlos was so angry that he really wanted to beat him up.He said to Ega: "While we are waiting for Alenka to come to power, I will take the opportunity to teach that scoundrel a lesson!"

"Forget it," Ega advised, "he has no responsibility!" At this time, Carlos had already run down the stairs, and Ega followed closely behind, worried that he would use force.When they reached the door, Ozebio was already walking towards Calm Street.They caught up with him in the square of Abegoaria, where there was no one in the street and it was quiet except for the flickering of two dim gas lamps.Seeing Carlos intercept him in this way in the dark with no coat on but a light shirt, Ezebio flinched and stammered tremblingly: "Well, you're here. "Listen, bastard!" Carlos yelled in a low voice. "You also participated in the "Devil's Horn" deed? I will knock your bones out one by one!"

Carlos wasn't that annoyed when he grabbed his arm at first.But as soon as his strong hand touched that weak, trembling arm, an old hatred that he never forgot came to his heart because when he was a child, Sister Silvira used to bring Ozebio to his house. When the manor came to play, Carlos wanted to ride on him and beat him up.So, now, Carlos beat Ozebio as hard as he used to, to vent his anger.The lenses of the poor widower's black glasses were blown off, the heavy mourning hat rolled away on the flagstone floor, and his emaciated body was reeling from the blows.Finally, Carlos pushed him against the door of a carriage garage.

"Help! Police, come!" cried the poor wretch at the top of his lungs. Carlos' hand was already around Ozebio's throat.At this time, Ega came to persuade: "Stop! It's all right! Our lovely friend has got his retribution..." He picked up the hat for Ozebio.And that Yusang, who was trembling and out of breath, crawled to find him. In the end, Carlos kicked him hard with his boots on the flagstone floor, and he fell into the mouth of the gutter full of horse manure. The square was still deserted, dimly lit by gas lamps on tarnished lampstands.Carlos and Aisha calmly returned to the brightly lit and flower-filled recess of the evening, passing the goateed patriot, who was surrounded by friends and headed for the bar. , wiped his neck and face with a handkerchief, and cried out with weariness and triumphant joy: "Oh, it's not easy, I finally touched the hearts of the people!"

It's time for Alenka to recite!The two friends walked quickly up the stairs.Sure enough, Alenka was already standing on the table with two candles lit. The poet's slender body is even thinner under the light yellow light, and his sunken eyes slowly, ④João Castro (1551-1623), Portuguese navigator, once served as the governor of the Portuguese East Indies . He glanced thoughtfully at the seats and the aisle.There was no sound at all, and the melancholy and solemn atmosphere made this silence all the more profound. "'Democracy'!" declared the author of the poem "Evela" solemnly, as if describing a new discovery.

He wiped his beard twice with a white handkerchief, then threw it on the table.He raised his hand slowly and made a big gesture: In a park, the moonlight shines on a large grove full of love and mystery... "What did I say to you?" Aga touched the Marquis's elbow and cried speak. "It's lyrical..I can assure you, it's about that banquet!" Sure enough, it was the banquet described in "Passion Flower", a romantic banquet held in an empty garden, drinking Cypriot wine, long brocade skirts floating among the dense magnolia bushes, and Singing to the accompaniment of cellos from the small lake.. but soon the serious social content appeared in the poem.In the moonlit woods there was "laughing, toasting, flirting and whispering" while outside, near the gilded balustrade of the garden, a shabby woman wailed, startled by the watchdog's barking, Tightly hold the son begging for bread in her shriveled arms. .. Shiru tossed her hair back.Why, he asked, are there still hungry people in this proud nineteenth century?What is the use of men's indomitable struggle for justice, for equality, since Spartacus?What is the use of the great Lord's cross standing in the tree on the top of the mountain?

The sun's rays are fading, The desolate wind gradually subsides,... The eagle hovers in the clouds, watching The Son of God dies! Silence and doubt hung over the hall.Alenka waved his trembling hands, bemoaning the inability of generations of geniuses to solve a simple matter - to give bread to crying children! heart torn, Conscience shocked! the whole of human knowledge, There is no solution to this miserable problem! Time flies, times change, There's little hope, what i see is still Hungry on one side and indigestion on the other! Ega covered his mouth with his handkerchief and laughed.He swore he was going to burst out laughing. "Indigestion on the other side!" In the essence of lyric poetry, never have such wonderful words been seen!The stern-faced people around laughed at this dirty "realism".Someone joked that there is now baking soda for indigestion. "It's none of my business!" said a gentleman in a light green coat, unbuttoning his waistcoat. The Marquis let out a harsh "hush", and the audience fell silent again.He untied his scarf with excitement, for such humanitarian poetry always moved him!At this time, on the stage, Alianka said that he had found a solution to the past problems of human beings!That was the voice that taught him!This has been the voice that has been cried for centuries, and though it has always been suppressed before, it has now irresistibly increased in these ages, from Calvary to the Bastille!At this time, Arenji stood behind the table more solemnly with the attitude of a preaching priest and a firm soldier, as if this simple mahogany furniture was an altar and a trench.He raised his head, showed a heroic challenge to Danton, and uttered a terrifying cry: Alenka wants the Republic! Yes, for the Republic!Not a republic of terror, not a republic of mutual hatred, but a republic of tolerance and benevolence.A republic where millionaires smile and embrace their workers!The kind that means Dawn, Solace, Security, Spirit Stars, and Doves. Dove of Fraternity, spread those white wings above the human swamp, to all its children, Serve with the same divine equality! There was a loud cheer from the balcony above.Immediately, the stern-faced people around shouted "Hush, be quiet!", trying to silence the cheers.So Ega raised his bony hands high and shouted desperately: "Excellent! That's right! Well said!" Ega's face was pale because of the loud shouting, he straightened his monocle, and said to the people around him: "This kind of democracy is really absurd... But if the bourgeoisie puts on an intolerable posture, it won't work! So I want to applaud!" Ega's thin hands were raised high again, next to the hands of the Marquis, which were waving like hammers.The people around, not wanting to appear less zealous than Ega and the well-dressed nobleman on the question of democracy, immediately cheered enthusiastically.People in the hall cast uneasy eyes on this group of people full of revolutionary passion.Now the hall was quiet again, the atmosphere more solemn, and the anticipation increased, because Alenka (who, by inspiration, had foreseen that the bourgeoisie would not tolerate heresy) asked in angry lines, once the good republic came, What is there to loathe and what is there to fear from the bourgeoisie?Is it the fear of giving the bread of kindness to children?Is it the fear of the generous hand extended to the proletariat?Is it fear of hope?Afraid of the light? Are you afraid of bright light? You are afraid of a. B． C? Then you punish those who can read, And become a lowly common people again! backwards in history, Put out the gas lamps in the street, Let the children be naked, That noose will come again! More enthusiastic and heartfelt applause broke out in the hall.The audience is finally overwhelmed by this touching plot of recurring humane and gorgeous lyric lines.What does the republic and the dangers of the republic matter. Lines of verse were sonorous and forceful, with clear meaning pouring out, and the waves of emotion rolled over those more enterprising hearts. Seeing this supportive attitude, Alenka smiled and opened his arms, like a few writers. Jane explained one by one the various benefits that the Republic would bring.Beneath the flag of the Republic—not red, but white—he saw the fields full of crops, all the hungry hungry, and the people singing and laughing in the valleys of the plains under the smiling eyes of God. .Yes, Alenka Do not republic without God!Democracy and Christianity are like lilies growing on the same branch, they complement each other and blend into one!The rock of Calvary can be a platform for a great conference!For such a good ideal there is no need for cardinals, nor prayer books, nine days of prayer, nor church.The republic is built entirely on pure faith, and prayers are said in the open, the full moon is the wafer, and the nightingale sings "so it is" from the laurel boughs.All things prosper, all things shine, and the world of conflict shall be replaced by a world of love.. The plow and the hoe will replace the sword, and justice will mock death. The school is unconstrained and full of vitality, The Bastille was razed to the ground. The pope's triple tiara rolls in the mud, Equal lilies bloom, A new generation of human beings Raise the cross on the battlefield of yesteryear! A warm and heartfelt applause made the flames of the gas lamps shake!This is the love of Southern Latins for poetry, for loud words, for romantic liberalism, and also for images that roar into the sky like fireworks and explode with splendor.Such an image would eventually conquer all, would make everyone's heart beat faster, and would make the heads of government departments lean over their wives and cheer with excitement for a republic with nightingales!Alenka raised his arms towards the ceiling, imitated the prayers in a hoarse voice, and called to the earth the dove of democracy, which had flown with light from Calvary, and a tenderness came over him. In the hearts of the audience, a burst of ecstasy flashed through them.The ladies moved in their seats, half turned their faces and looked up at the sky.A cool air unique to churches blew in the stuffy hall.The final rhyme of the poem is mixed with the low prayer, as if speaking to a statue of a god in a brocade robe and a crown of gold stars on his head.However, people simply do not know whether the God they pray and look forward to is the God of Liberty or the Virgin Mary. At this moment, Alenka saw her coming down, emitting a burst of fragrance.Her holy feet touched the plains of the earth.Her full breasts made the whole world rich.Everything grows greener and more prosperous, and everything acquires youth: the roses are more fragrant! ① The original text is Latin. Fruit is even sweeter! A bright and pure heart shines, Break free from shadows and disguises.. Fleeing in pain and terror, Hunger is a thing of the past, war is gone, People sing on the earth, Christ smiles in heaven! .. At this time, a deafening cheer broke out, shaking the pale yellow surrounding walls.The frantic young man climbed onto the chair, and there were two white handkerchiefs waving.At this time, the poet was exhausted all over his body, trembling with excitement, he descended the steps, and threw himself into the arms stretched out to him enthusiastically.Out of breath, he whispered, "Children, lads..." Egar ran up behind Carlos, and shouted, "That was wonderful, Tomas!" Tears flowed from Alenka. Eyes popped out, and his whole body twitched with excitement. Along the aisle, there were constant cheers and congratulations along the way.Some patted him on the shoulder, serious people shook hands with him; some said "congratulations." He slowly raised his head, with a proud smile on his face, showing a full mouth of sparse teeth.He felt that he was the recognized "democratic" poet, baptized in victory, and shouldered the unexpected mission of saving souls!When he passed by Donna Maria Cunha, she tugged at his sleeve and whispered to him excitedly: "Very good, very good." Shouted: "Maria, need light!" Delis Gamma came over and patted him on the back, and said to him, "It's a beautiful song." Alenka stammered, bewildered, and said, "Cheer up, my dear." Delise, cheer up!" At this time, Ega was looking for Carlos in the chaotic crowd, but he disappeared after embracing Alenka.Tavira assured Ega that Carlos had gone to the bar.At the bar below, another young man said firmly that Mr. Don Carlos found a carriage and went in the direction of Siado... Ega stood at the door, hesitating whether to stay until the end of the party.At this time, Govalinius walked down quickly with a gloomy face, holding the countess's arm.The servants of the two noblemen hurried to call for a carriage.When Ega came forward with a smile and asked them how they felt about Alenka's great democratic victory, Govalinho couldn't contain his anger any longer, he said through gritted teeth: "The words of the poem are beautiful, but they are out of place! " Here comes the carriage.He shook Ega's hand, and mumbled a few words hastily: "At the high society party supported by the Queen, in front of His Majesty's ministers, talking about barricades and barricades, promising a new world and money to the proletariat... completely inappropriate!" At this time, the countess lifted her long silk skirt and got into the carriage.The minister also got into the car angrily.His valet, in a uniform trimmed with gold and silver lace, and riding a small white horse, trotted beside the cart. Ega was about to go back to the top, and the Marquis walked out wrapped in an Aveiro coat. He didn't want to hear the bearded poet on the stage recite those lovely poems to the lovely eyes below. Little Poetry: The Marquis hated poems about the human body.Gruges then emerged from the bar buttoning up his jacket.Seeing his friends leaving one after another, Ega also decided to go, and went to the literati club with the artist to drink mixed wine. He and Gruges put the Marquis into a carriage and walked slowly along the Rue Neuve Trindade. He felt that this winter night was strangely charming, although there were no stars, it was as warm as the spring breeze blowing in May. As they passed the Arianza Hotel, Ega heard someone chasing them quickly, and then someone shouted from behind: "Mr. Ega, please stay, Mr. Aga! . . " He stopped and recognized Jima Les's rolled-brimmed hat and white beard. "I beg your pardon!" cried the journalist, panting. "I saw you coming down, and I want to say a few words to you, because I'm leaving here tomorrow..." "You are welcome...Gruges, you go first, I will come right away!" The artist is waiting at a corner of Shiyadu Square.Mr. Guimarais once again apologized.Actually, I just want to say a few words... "I heard that you are Carlos da Maia's best friend. The two of you are like brothers..." "Yes, we are very close..." Except in the brightly lit special A few young people at the entrance of the Lindade Theater, the street is empty.In the dark night, the tall facade of the Arianza Hotel cast a huge shadow on them.However, Guimarais cautiously lowered his voice. "That's right. You know—perhaps you don't know that I was very close to Mr. Carlos da Maia's mother in Paris. . . You are in a hurry. I will not talk about this history for the time being. I want to say Unfortunately, some years ago she entrusted me with a small box, which, according to her, contained important letters.. Then, of course, as the years passed and the years passed, as we were both busy with many other things, she too Gone. Let's make a long story short, because you are in a hurry. When I came to Portugal to deal with my brother's estate, I happened to bring this box with me.. Today, when I was at the theater, I thought it would be better to give the box to her Relatives..." Gruges became impatient: "How long will it take?" "It's over!" Ega said loudly, at this time he was already interested in those letters and boxes. "Please go on." So Guimarais hurriedly and concisely explained his request.Since he knew that Mr. João Ega had a close relationship with Carlos da Maia, he thought it best to ask Mr. Ega to return the box to his relatives... "It is absolutely possible!" Ega interrupted him. "I'm currently staying at Maya's house, in the Sunflower Courtyard." "That would be very nice! Then you will send a reliable servant to fetch the box tomorrow... I am staying at the Hotel de Paris on the Place de Belleau. Otherwise, I could send it to you, which would be no inconvenience to me, though I'm leaving here tomorrow..." "No, no, I'll send a servant to fetch it!" insisted Ega, extending his hand to the democrat. He shook hands with Ega warmly. "Thank you very much! I have another note inside, please give it to Carlos da Maia, or his sister." Ega was stunned: "To his sister..to which sister?" Guimarais also looked at Ega in surprise.Slowly let go of his hand, and said: "Which sister?! To his sister, his only sister, Maria!" From the corner, Groges tapped the soles of his feet impatiently on the gravel, and called out, "Hey, I'm at the Literati Club." "See you later!" At this moment, Guimarais stroked his long beard with a hand in a black sheepskin glove, and stared at Ega, trying to figure out what was going on.Ega took his arm again, and asked him to walk to Loreto Square together, and then talk again.At this time, the democrat took a few steps forward with a suspicious expression. "I think," Ega said, smiling but uneasy, "that there is a misunderstanding here... I have known Maia since I was a child, and I still live in his house, and I can assure you that he has no sister at all..." So Then Guimarais mumbled something to apologize, which made Ega feel more uneasy and uncomfortable.Guimarais thought that now that everything was reconciled, everything about the sister was forgotten and no longer a secret. "Because just a few days ago I saw Carlos da Maia in a carriage with his sister and you at the pier in Sodre..." "What! The lady! The one in the carriage? " "Exactly!" exclaimed M. Guimarais angrily, by now impatient with the inexplicable affair in which he had been involved. "That's the one, Marikie Eduarda Monforte, or Maria Eduarda Maia, you name it. I've known her since I was little, and I used to hold her in my arms; Glenn eloped and then moved in with that damn Castro Gomez... that's her!" They came to a large gas lamp in the middle of Loreto Square.Mr. Guimarais stopped abruptly when he saw Aga staring at him in horror, his face pale. "You don't know anything about it?" Aga took a deep breath, pulled his hat forward, and made no reply.So the other shrugged awkwardly.He found himself doing something stupid!It's better for a person not to meddle in other people's business!But now it's bad!Come to think of it, after that poetry evening, M. Ega must have regarded it as a nightmare!Guimarais sincerely apologized and wished Mr. João Ega a very happy evening. As if seeing the whole disaster clearly through a flash of lightning, Ega suddenly grabbed Guimarais' arm, fearing that he would leave with these evidences, documents, and Monfort's box and disappear forever. The truth that Ega longed to know disappeared with it.They walked slowly through the Piazza Loreto, Ega stammering out the reasons for his agitation, so that Guimarais could calm down so that he could extract from him what he knew, the evidence, the whole truth. "Mr. Guimarais, you know.. this is a very delicate matter, I suppose, completely unknown to others.. so I was shocked when I suddenly heard you speak of these circumstances so frankly , just dizzy...because—this is what we say privately, no one in Lisbon thinks of this lady as Carlos' sister at all." Guimarais immediately waved his hand vigorously.Ah, so it is!So, this is hiding it from him?Mr. Ega is absolutely right.. these things are of course very serious and need to be covered up in every possible way.. he understands, understands very much! .. Indeed, due to the social status of the Maya family in Lisbon, that lady cannot appear as Carlos' sister. "But she is not at fault, my dear sir! The fault is her mother's, the strange mother that the devil gave her! . . . " They walked down from Shiyadu Square.Ega stopped, and looked at the old man with wide red eyes: "Mr. Guimarais is very familiar with this Mrs. Monfort?" very familiar!He had known her since he was in Lisbon, but only from afar, when she was Pietro da Maia's wife.Then, tragedy struck, she eloped with an Italian. In that same year he himself went to Paris with a seamstress named Clermont from Riveland.Busy business, unlucky life, crossed each other, and he stayed there forever.It wasn't his personal life that he was going to talk about, though.... Not long afterward, he met her at a ball at Labard's house one evening, and their relationship began.By this time the Italian had died in a duel.Old Monfort also died of cystitis and she lived with a young man named Trevinet in a very beautiful and very elegant house in the Parc Monceau. . . She was an extraordinary woman!He's not ashamed to admit that he owes her a lot!When his lovely girlfriend Clement suffered from chest pains, Mrs. Monfort brought her flowers, fruits, and wine, and came to accompany her and watch over her, as kind as an angel.. because at that time she really had A broad, benevolent heart!This daughter of hers, Donna Marige, was about seven or eight years old, and she was so lovely.. And there was another little girl from that Italian, who was also beautiful, really beautiful!However, the little one died in London.. "This Maria, I used to hug her, my dear sir.. I don't know if she remembers, I gave her a talking doll called 'Napoleon '..It was the time of empires, and even shameless dolls were imperialists! Later, she went to the Abbey of Tours, and I accompanied her mother there twice. At that time, the principles of my faith did not allow me to enter The lair of religion, however, I went with her mother.. When she eloped with that Irishman Mike Glenn, her mother came to me very angry and asked me to call the police to arrest the Irishman. In the end, she I went to Fontainebleau by myself in a cab, and the two reconciled and lived together... In short, there were many troubles." Ega shuffled, exhaled exhaustedly, and asked weakly: "Obviously, this lady doesn't know whose daughter she is..." Guimarais shrugged. "It never occurred to her that there was a Maia family on earth! Mrs. Monfort always told her that her father was an Austrian nobleman and that she herself married him in Madeira. . . Nonsense, my dear sir, nonsense!" "It's terrible," Aga whispered. But, said Mr. Guimarais, what could Mrs. Monfort do?She couldn't confess to her daughter, "I left your father and he killed himself for it!" It wasn't quite out of shame.The daughter may realize that her mother had a lover, poor girl, didn't she have a lover at the age of eighteen.But because of the shooting, the dead body, the blood... "Not even to me!" said Mr. Guimarais, stopping in this deserted street, waving his arms. "Even to me, she never talked about her husband, never about Lisbon, never about Portugal. I remember once at Clermont's I mentioned a sorrel horse, Pietro, whom she used to ride. A horse from da Maya. A very beautiful horse! But I didn't mention her husband at all, just the horse. But, dear sir, she beat the table with her fan like a shrew I shouted: "What are you talking about, my dear sir, the stories you mention these days make me upset ① Rigaron, a French place name." ②Labord (1807─1868), a famous French architect. ①! ..' Indeed, she's right, these are days away!To make a long story short, I am convinced that until the last moments of her life she pretended that there was no such thing as Pietro da Maia.She is irrational!Later, she got drunk.. that's all there is to it!She had a very kind heart, and was very kind to Clement.May she rest in peace. " "It's terrible," Aga whispered again, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead with trembling hands. At this moment, his only wish is to continuously collect evidence and understand the details.So he spoke of the letters, of Mrs. Monfort's box.Guimarais had no idea what was in the box; if it was just fashion bills or old clippings from Le Figaro that published news about her, it wouldn't be a surprise. "This is a little box given to me by Mrs. Monfort and her daughter on the eve of leaving for London. It was war time. Maria was already living with the Irishman and had a little girl named Rosa. Then the Paris Commune happened. , and other disasters. I was in Marseilles when Mrs. Monfort came back from London. Poor Maria was already living with Castro Gómez, I think, so as not to die of starvation.. Later, I Back in Paris, but never saw Mrs. Monfort, she was already very sick.. I never spoke to Maria again, because she was already with that scumbag Castro Gómez Inseparable; that's a talker, an unscrupulous businessman worthy of the guillotine. Whenever I meet her, I always salute her from a distance, as I saw her ride with you and her brother the other day. As in the carriage.. so these letters have always remained in my hands. To be honest, I forgot about these letters because I was busy with political affairs. Now, I brought them, and her relatives will deal with them .” "If it's not troublesome to you," Ega suggested, "I'll go to the hotel where you're staying right now and pick up these things right away..." "No trouble at all! Let's drop by and just settle this matter !" For a while they walked on in silence.The party is definitely over.There was a sound of carriages on the ramp in Shiyadu Square.Two women and a young man passed by, waving his arms and talking loudly about Alenka.Guimarès slowly took out the cigar case from his pocket, then stopped to strike a match and said, "So Donna Maria is only considered a relative? . . . how does she know? What's going on? " Ega, who was walking with his head bowed, shivered, as if he had been awakened suddenly.Then he stammered and made up a speech out of context, which made himself blush in the night.Yes, Maria Aiduada was regarded as a relative and was discovered by the housekeeper.She was done with Castro Gomez, with the past.Maya's grandparents paid her monthly money, and she lived reclusively in Orives as the daughter of a Maya who died in Italy.Everyone liked her very much, Afonso da Maya especially liked the little girl... Suddenly, he was annoyed by the words he had made up, and he included the name of the noble old man.He shouted as if holding his breath: "Anyway, even I can't explain it, it's really sensational!" "A tragedy!" concluded Mr. Guimarais with a serious face. When they came to Petit Belloulu Square, Guimarais asked Aisha to wait a while while he ran up to get Mrs. Monfort's letter. Ega was alone in the square; he raised his hands to the sky, and his journey from Loreto was written in French. Let go of the depressed mood like a sleepwalker in your heart, and relax silently.他唯一准确无误的感觉是，吉马莱斯讲的情况铁定无疑，这些情况是如此严紧，真是天衣无缝，没有一点破绽，不露马脚，也不会不攻自破。他在里斯本结识了玛丽娅?蒙弗特，那时她还是彼得罗?达?马亚的妻子，骑着栗色的小马。她私奔后，他又在巴黎遇见她，那时她的第一个情人已经故去，她同其他的男人们生活在一起。他还抱过玛丽娅?爱杜亚达，给她买过娃娃..从此，他经常见到马丽娅?爱杜亚达，了解她的情况：他了解她在巴黎、在图尔修道院的生活，与爱尔兰人在枫丹白露同居，以及投身到卡斯特罗?戈麦士怀抱里的情况：最后，几天前他还在索德雷码头看见她同自己、同卡洛斯?达?马亚共同乘坐一辆出租马车！这一切同玛丽娅?爱杜亚达讲的情况全都符合。从这一切又看到了这样一个可怕的事实：卡洛斯是他姐姐的情夫！ 吉马莱斯还没下来。二楼，一扇敞开的窗户闪着光亮。埃戛又在广场周围慢慢地踱起步来。此时，他心中对这场悲剧性的大灾难渐渐地怀疑了，难道这种事会发生在他的一位朋友身上，发生在里斯本一条街上，发生在从格鲁热斯母亲那儿租来的房子里？ ..不可能！这种丑事只会发生在一个乌七八糟的社会，发生在中世纪那样的动乱时代。但是，在一个资产阶级社会，警察戒备森严，规章齐全，有繁多的法律保障，文件记载，洗礼登记和结婚证明，这是不可能的！impossible!现代生活中，不可能出现这样的事：两个曾在一个摇篮里睡过党的孩子，由于母亲的疯狂行为，后来他们分开了，在相隔遥远的两地长大、接受教育、描绘着各自长长的命运曲线——这些是为了什么？是为了再到一起睡觉，过姘居生活？This is impossible.这类事只能在书本上找到，那也是艺术的精湛创造手法，为了给人的心灵以新的恐惧..然后，埃戛举目望了望亮灯的那扇窗口——吉马莱斯肯定正在箱子里翻找文件。讲述了那些情况的那个人正在那儿，而他所讲的一切没有丝毫不能立足的矛盾之处！ ..埃戛似乎觉得，楼上那处灯光渐渐照亮了这桩错综复杂的灾难，使其清晰可见，并向他展现出了那整个缓慢的发展过程。是的，说到底，这一切都是可能的！那个孩子，一个女人随身带走的女儿，长大了，成为一个巴西人的情妇，又返回里斯本定居。邻近的一个住宅区里，住着那个女人扔下的儿子，他也长大成人了。由于他出众的才貌和侈华的穿戴，在这个土里土气、简陋粗俗的城市里，使他的地位十分显赫。而她，满头金发，身材颀长，迷人的容貌，拉斐丽服装店的衣服，是一朵高级文明社会的鲜花，在一群瘦孝皮肤棕褐色的女人之中犹如鹤立鸡群。在地方狭小的市区和阿泰罗街，人们不免挤来蹭去，因此他们两人命中注定要相遇。又由于各自的魅力，他们又必然会互相吸引！还有比这更自然的事吗？如果她相貌丑陋，衣着粗俗，而他也只是个戴了顶高礼帽的瘦弱青年，那他们彼此就绝不会注意，而是各奔前程了。如今这样，他们自然要相识，而且两人也就可能相爱了..后来，有一天，吉马莱斯先生出现，可怕的真相披露了！ 暗处的饭店大门响了一声，吉马莱斯先生头戴了顶丝绸便帽，手里拿着一包东西走了过来。 “刚才没找到箱子钥匙，请原谅！一有急事往往如此..这就是说的那只盒子！” “好，好..” 那象一个装雪茄的烟盒，被这位民主派用一张旧《拉贝报》包了起来。 埃戛把它装进上衣衣兜，并立即向吉马莱斯伸出手，似乎再讲什么话都多余了。不过，那一位坚持要送他到阿森纳街口，虽说他只戴了顶便帽。对于从巴黎来的人，这天晚上简直有一种柔和、宁静的东方色彩。而他，有记者的习惯，从来不早睡，总要到凌晨两、三点钟..吉马莱斯先生嘴上叼着雪茄，两手插在口袋里，慢慢地走着，话题又回到了政治和晚会上。他觉得阿连卡的诗太没力量——因为标题是《民主》，他曾寄予很大希望。 “词藻颇为华丽，很耍弄了一番文笔，大谈其自由，但对于君主制度和王室这堆垃圾并没给点儿有分量的抨击，没狠狠地刺几下..您说对不？” “确实如此..”埃戛低声说，眼睛朝远处打量着，想找辆马车。 “就象这里的共和派报刊一样..一派空话、废话！..我常对他们说，'鬼东西，对准社会问题进攻啊！'”巧得很，一辆大马车从王宫方向朝这边慢慢驶来。埃戛匆勿同这位民主派握了一下手，祝他一路平安，然后向车夫交待了葵花大院的地址。但是，吉马莱斯先生仍然抓住车门，建议埃戛去巴黎旅行。既然他们成了朋友，他一定要把所有那些人都介绍给他..埃戛先生将会看到另一番景象！绝不是葡萄牙的这些蠢才、庸人，拧搓着胡子装腔作势，自以为了不起。在那个世界第一流国家，到处是欢乐、博爱，人人富有才智..“我的地址就是《拉贝报》编辑部！谁都知道！至于这个小盒子，我就拜托了..”“您尽可放心！” “您有事尽管吩咐..代我问候堂娜玛丽娅女士！” 马车行驶到阿泰罗街时，埃戛焦虑地自问着：“我该怎么办？”圣明的主啊，该如何处理他掌握的这个可怕的秘密？现在吉马莱斯要远去了，永远消失了，他就成了唯一掌握这个秘密的人。他恐惧地预见到了那可怕的前景，这个秘密一旦泄露，他在世界上最敬重的人将是何等的痛苦。于是，他本能的想法是永远保守这个秘密，就让它到此为止。他什么都不说，吉马莱斯也消失在巴黎了，让有情人继续相爱吧！..这样可以不在卡洛斯的生活中制造什么残酷的危机，自己作为卡洛斯的朋友，也不会痛苦。再说，把一桩乱伦的证据摆在他们面前，毁坏了两个无辜、可爱的人的生活，这将是何等残酷！..但是，一想起“乱伦”，那沉默的一切后果又如同黑暗中的火光，活龙活现地、可怖地闪现在他的眼前。他既然知道了他们是乱伦，他能心安理得地目睹两个人那样生活下去吗？他还能去圣弗朗西斯科街，同他们欢欢乐乐地坐在桌旁，透过帷幔瞥见那张他们共枕的床，并深知这种罪恶的可鄙行为是他沉默的结果吗？不能..但是，他有勇气在第二天走进卡洛斯的室内，对着他说：“喂，你是你姐姐的情夫”吗？ 马车在葵花大院前停下。埃戛如往常一样，从卡洛斯的私用楼梯上楼。 所有的灯都熄了，四周一片寂挣。 他点上蜡烛，拨开卡洛斯卧室的帷幔，胆怯地踩着地毯往前迈了几步，此刻的脚步声都变得十分凄凉。从镜子中反射出的一束光照进了黑洞洞的屋子。光亮投到了铺着长长的平整床罩、带着幔帐的整洁的大床。接着他想到卡洛斯此时正在圣弗朗西斯科街和一个本是他姐姐的女人睡觉。这个念头无情地、尖利地刺透了他，井在他眼前呈现出一幅活生生的具体影象，使他清清楚楚地看到他们.丝不挂地抱在一起..玛丽娅所有的美貌和卡洛斯所有的高雅风度完全消失了。所剩下的只是从同一个肚子里生出来的两只动物，象狗一样，由于情欲的冲动，在一个角落里粗野地搂抱在一起！ 他赶忙跑回自己的房间，摆脱开那个幻象，因为在摇曳不定的蜡光照亮的昏沉走廊上，那个幻象显得越加清晰、明亮。他把梳妆台上的六支蜡烛全部点燃起来。此时，他感到更为急迫和事在必行的是必需把一切都告诉卡洛斯。与此同时，他越来越感到没有勇气去见卡洛斯，把乱伦的事揭出来破坏他的幸福和生活。不能这样做！让别人去告诉他这件事吧！而后，他可以去亲切、真诚地安慰他，分担他的痛苦。无论如何，卡洛斯生活中最大的灾难不能由他嘴里说出的话所导致！..让别人去告诉他吧！但是，由谁呢？他的脑海里千头万绪，闪过许多没有条理、含混不清的想法。请玛丽娅出走，藏匿起来..给卡洛斯写封匿名信，详尽他讲述吉马莱斯讲的情况..这种杂乱的思绪，急切的心情，渐渐地变成了对吉马莱斯的怨恨。这个蠢货讲这些做什么？为什么一定要把这些私信委托给他？阿连卡为什么要介绍他们相识？唉，要是没有达马祖那封信..这一切都是来自那个该死的达马祖！ 他帽子都没脱，在屋内不安地转来转去，目光落到床头柜上的一个信封上。他认出是威拉萨的笔迹。信还没拆封..猛然，他想出了个主意。把一切都告诉威拉萨！为什么不可以呢？他是马亚家的总管。这个家对他没有任何秘密。关于这个家庭中一位原被认为已经去世，但又突然出现的女人的错综复杂、离奇的情况，如果不向这位忠实的管家说明还能向谁说呢？他一向可靠，由于继承因素或是命运的安排，他总是了解这个家庭所有的秘密与利害关系的..埃戛不再多想，也不再往深处考虑，他立刻选定了这个可以救苦救难的办法——因为这样至少使他的心平静了下来，从他心上搬掉了一块压得他透不过气并使他无法忍受的沉重铁块..他需要早起，到家中去找威拉萨。他在一张纸上写道：“请七点叫醒我。”然后，他走下楼，到仆人们住的那条石柱长廊上，把纸条挂到他的随身仆从的门锁上。 他心情较为平静地回到楼上，打开威拉萨的来信。那是个便函，提醒友人埃夏在大众银行的二十万雷亚尔汇票还有两天到期..“见鬼，都赶到一起了！”埃戛恼火地叫起来，把信揉成一团扔到地上。