Chapter 18 Chapter 17

The god of plague was gathering all his strength at this time, ready to rush to the isolated city and make it fall into his grasp. On the eve of the peak of the plague, the last few people like Rambert remained to be described.In order to rediscover the lost happiness, to take back from the mouth of the plague god a part of their property and life that they guarded against damage, they have been desperately carrying out activities regardless of the monotony of the form for a long time. This is how they refuse to accept the threat. Although on the surface this method may not be more effective than other methods, in my opinion, it does have its meaning, and, although it has a self-showing mood and even contradicts itself, it can indeed show that at that time The pride in each of us.

Rambert was struggling to keep himself from the claws of the plague.When it proved impossible to get out of the city by legal means, he told Rieux and decided to find another way.The reporter first made an idea from the waiter in the cafe, because a waiter in a cafe is familiar with everything.But what he initially interrogated told him that such actions would be punished extremely severely.Once he was even almost regarded as an instigator to leave the city. Later, he met Cottard at Rieux's house, and the matter was considered to have some clues.That day, Rieux talked to him about the reporter's refusal in the administration. A few days later, Cottard met Rambert on the road, and the former received Rambert with the unrestrained attitude he had recently adopted in social activities."Has there been no progress?" he said.

"Yes, no progress." "You can't rely on the government, they don't understand people." "It is true. I am looking for another way, but it will not be easy." "Ah!" said Cottard, "I understand." He knew the whole system, and he explained it to Rambert, who was astonished.He told Rambert that for a long time he had frequented all the cafés in Oran, where he had friends, and that he had learned that there was an organization for this purpose.It turned out that Cottard, who had lately been spending too much to make ends meet, was also engaged in the smuggling of rationed goods.He was selling cigarettes and bad liquor, the rising prices of which made him a small fortune.

"Are you sure of such a thing?" Rambert asked. "Yes, because it has been suggested to me." "Then why don't you use it yourself?" "You needn't worry about it," said Cottard, with an air of honesty. "I'm not making use of it, because I don't want to go. I have my reasons." After a moment of silence, he continued: "Don't you want to know my reasoning?" "I don't think it has anything to do with me," Rambert said. "In one sense it really has nothing to do with you, but in another . . . only one thing is certain, and that is that I feel a lot better here since the plague."

Rambert interrupted him and asked: "How can I get in touch with this organization?" "Ah!" said Cottard, "it's not easy. Come with me." It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, the weather was dull, and the whole city was getting hotter and hotter. All the shops had put down the shade cloth, and there were no pedestrians on the road.Cottard and Rambert walked along the arcade for a long time without saying a word.This is the moment when the plague is invisible: the sky and the earth are still, everything is eclipsed, and the surroundings are silent. It can be said to be a feature of midsummer, or it can be said to be a scene of plague.It was impossible to tell whether the drowsy atmosphere was due to the threat of disaster or to dust and heat.The connection to the plague had to be made with careful observation and reflection, for it was revealed only by negative signs.For example, Cottard, who was closely related to the plague, reminded Rambert that the dogs were extinct. Normally, they should be lying on their sides at the sunrise of the aisle at this time, panting, trying to cool off but unable to do so. .

They walked up Palm Street, across the parade ground, and toward the Navy Quarter.To the left appeared a cafe painted green, shaded by yellow canvas slanted outside.Cottard and Rambert went in, wiping their foreheads.They sat down in camp chairs at a green lead table.The shop was empty, flies were buzzing about, and on the rickety counter stood a yellow cage with a parrot perched dejectedly on the shelf with all its plumage drooping.Several old war paintings hung on the walls, covered with grime and thick cobwebs.All the lead tables, including the table in front of Rambert, were covered with dried chicken droppings from unknown sources.It wasn't until there was a small commotion from a dark corner that a beautiful cock jumped out, and that's when they understood what was going on.

At this time the temperature seems to be rising.Cottard took off his jacket and tapped on the lead.A short man, huddled in a blue work apron, came out from the back of the room, greeted Cottard as soon as he saw him from a distance, kicked the cock away as he came, and was clucking. Amidst the crowing of chickens, he asked the two customers what they wanted.Cottard ordered white wine and asked for a man named García.According to the dwarf, it has been several days since he came to the cafe. "Do you think he will come to-night?" "Hey!" said the man, "I'm not his worm. Don't you know his time?"

"Yes, but nothing important. I just have a friend to introduce him to." The waiter wiped his damp hands on his apron. "Ah! Does this gentleman want to do it too?" "Yes," Cottard said. The dwarf sniffed hard and said: "Then, come back tonight, and I'll send the boy to look for him." On going out, Rambert asked what the trick was. "Of course it's smuggling. They bring things in through the gates of the city and sell them at a high price." "So," said Rambert, "they have accomplices?" "right"

At night, the shade cloth has been rolled up, the parrots are learning their tongues in the cage, and the lead table is full of people in shirts.One of them, with a straw hat pushed back, wore a white shirt showing a scorched chest.He stood up when Cottard entered.Sunburned face with well-proportioned facial features, a pair of small black eyes, a mouthful of white teeth, and two or three rings on his hands, he looks to be in his thirties. "Hello," he said, "let's have a drink at the counter." After three cups, no one said anything. So Garcia spoke: "Would you like to go out for a walk?"

As they headed toward the port, Garcia asked them what they wanted from him.Cottard told him that he had not introduced Rambert to him purely for business, but for what he called "a trip."García was in front of Cottard, walking straight ahead, smoking a cigarette.He asked questions, referred to Rambert as "he," and acted as if he hadn't seen him there. "Why do you do that?" he said. "His wife is in France." "Oh!" After a while, he asked again: "What is his business?" "reporter." "People in this business talk a lot."

Rambert was silent. "It's a friend," Cottard said. They walked forward in silence until they reached the pier, where the entrance was blocked by a large fence.They walked towards a small tavern that served fried sardines. The smell of fried fish was already in their nostrils. "Anyway," concluded García, "it's not my business. It's Raoul's business. I have to find him. It's not easy." "Ah!" asked Cottard excitedly, "he's hiding?" Garcia didn't answer.As he approached the tavern, he stopped and turned to Rambert for the first time and said: "The day after tomorrow, at eleven o'clock, on the inner heights of the town, on the corner of the customs barracks." He made a gesture of going away, then turned to the two of them and said, "It costs money." This is an expression of asking for the consent of the other party. Rambert replied: "Of course." Moments later, the reporter thanked Cottard, who said lightly: "Oh, no, it's a pleasure to serve you. Besides, you're a reporter, and you'll pay me back someday!" Two days later, Rambert and Cottard ascended the shadeless street leading to the inner heights of the town.Part of the customs barracks has been converted into a clinic, and some people gather in front of the gate.They hoped for a visit to a sick man, which of course would not be granted; perhaps they wanted information which would be out of date in an hour.This group of people was bustling and lively there, and the reason why García and Rambert were able to meet here seemed to have something to do with this environment. "It's strange," said Cottard, "that you insist on going. On the whole, what's going on here is quite interesting." "It doesn't seem so to me," replied Rambert. "Oh! Of course, there are risks to be taken here. But wouldn't it be equally risky to go through a busy crossroads even before the plague?" Just then, Rieux's car stopped close to them.Tarrou was driving and Rieux was half asleep. When he woke up, he made an introduction for them. "We know each other," said Tarrou, "we live in the same hotel." He asked Rambert to give them a ride into the city. "No, we have a date here." Rieux looked at Rambert. "Yes." said the latter. "Ah!" said Cottard in amazement, "does the doctor know?" "Here comes the magistrate," Tarrou said, looking at Cottard with concern. Cottard's face changed.Sure enough, Mr. Othon came up the street towards them with a strong, regular step, and when he came up to the little group he took off his hat in greeting. "Good morning, Monsieur Judge!" said Tarrou. The magistrate also greeted the two drivers, looked at Cottard and Rambert standing behind them, and nodded solemnly to them.Tarrou introduced the pensioners and journalists to him.The judge looked up at the sky, sighed and said, this is really a depressing time. "I have been told, Monsieur Tarrou, that you are carrying out preventive measures, and I dare not fully agree. Doctor, do you think the disease will spread?" Rieux replied that it should be hoped that it would not be so, and the judge repeated that there must always be hope, since the will of Heaven cannot be fathomed.Tarrou asked him if the current events had brought him extra work. "On the contrary, there have been fewer cases in what we call the common law, and I have only done pre-trial work in cases of serious breaches of the new rules. People have never followed the old laws as much as they do now." "It's because these old laws look better by comparison, that's for sure," Tarrou said. The magistrate changed from staring at the sky as if thinking, and looked at Tarrou with an indifferent expression and said: "What does it matter? The law doesn't matter, the important thing is the judgment. We can't do anything about it." .” When the magistrate left, Cottard said: "That guy, he's enemy number one!" The car starts. After a while, Rambert and Cottard saw García approaching.He came over and did not make any gestures to them, only saying "I have to wait" instead of greeting. Around them a crowd, mostly women, waited in silence.Almost all of them carry baskets in their hands, hoping that these things will be delivered to their sick relatives, and even more absurdly hope that their relatives can enjoy these foods.The gate was guarded by armed sentries.From the yard between the gate and the barracks, there was a strange cry from time to time. At this time, some people present turned to look at the clinic with disturbed faces. While the three people were watching this scene, a clear and deep voice of "Hello" behind them made them turn their heads.Although it was hot, Raoul was still well dressed.He was tall and stocky, dressed in a dark double-breasted suit and a rolled-up fedora hat, with a rather pale complexion, brown eyes, and a mouth that was often closed.Raoul spoke quickly and clearly: "Let's go to the city. Garcia, you can leave us." Garcia lit a cigarette and let the three of them go.They walked quickly, following the pace of Raoul who was caught between them. "Garcia made it clear to me. It can be done, and it will cost you ten thousand francs anyway," said Raoul. Rambert replied that he could promise. "Come and have lunch with me tomorrow at the Spanish restaurant in the Navy Quarter." Rambert said it was a deal, and Raoul shook hands with him, smiling for the first time.After he had gone, Cottard asked Rambert to forgive him for not being able to come the next day because of business and Rambert would not need him anyway. When Rambert entered the Spanish restaurant the next day, everyone turned to look at him.The dark basement at the bottom of a little sun-dried yellow street was full of men, most of them Spanish in appearance, who went there to eat.Raoul, who was sitting at a table at the end of the shop, gestured to the reporter, and Rambert walked towards him. At this moment, the curious expressions on the faces of the people who were looking at Rambert disappeared, and they resumed their meals.Raoul's tablemate was a tall, thin man with an unshaved mustache, unusually broad shoulders, thinning hair, and a horse-like face. From the rolled up sleeves of his shirt, a pair of long black hair appeared. Hairy slender arms.He nodded three times when Rambert was introduced to him.Raoul did not mention him by name, saying of him only: "Our friend." "Our friend believes in helping you, and he will make you..." Raoul was interrupted by the waitress who came up and asked Rambert what he wanted for dinner. "He will put you in touch with two of our friends, who will then introduce you to some of the guards who are our partners. The easiest way is to spend a few nights at the house of one of them, not far from the checkpoint. But our friend must make the necessary contacts for you in advance, and when everything is arranged, he will Settle the fee with you." The friend nods to his horse's head again as he keeps pounding and gulping the bell pepper and tomato salad.After a while he spoke, with a slight Spanish accent.He suggested that Rambert meet under the porch of the church at eight o'clock the next morning. "Two more days," Rambert said emphatically. "Because it's not easy," said Raoul, "you need someone." The horse nodded again, and Rambert agreed, not very enthusiastically.During the rest of the lunchtime, A, everyone looks for other topics.Once Rambert discovered that the horse was a football player, time was easily passed.He himself has quite a bit of experience in the sport.They talked about the French national championship, the talent of the British professional team, and W-shaped tactics.At the end of lunch the horse became very active, addressed Rambert with "you" instead of "you" and convinced him that the best position on a football team was at the center back.He said: "You know, the centre-half dominates the situation, and that's football if you dominate the situation." Rambert agreed, even though he played as a centre-forward.But their talk was interrupted by a radio broadcast.The radio began to report that one hundred and thirty-seven people had died of the plague the day before, after the softly repeated lingering melody.There was no reaction from those present.The horse-faced man shrugged and stood up, followed by Raoul and Rambert. At parting, the central defender shook Rambert's hand vigorously and said: "My name is Gonzales." These two days seemed to Rambert to be endless. He went to Rieux and told him all the details of his operation, and then accompanied the doctor to a patient's house. On the day of the suspicious patient's home, Rambert bids farewell to the doctor.At this time, there was a sound of running and voices from the corridor: they were running to tell the family that the doctor was coming. "I hope Tarrou will not delay," said Rieux in a low voice. He looked tired. "Is the epidemic developing too quickly?" Rambert asked. Rieux said that was not the case, that the curve on the statistical table was even rising a little slower, but that there were not enough ways to deal with the plague. "We are short of material resources," he said. "In all the armies of the world, manpower is generally used to make up for material shortages, but we are not even short of manpower." "Didn't doctors and health personnel come from other places?" "Yes," Rieux said. "Ten doctors and a hundred or so people don't seem too small. According to the current epidemic situation, it is barely enough to deal with it. If the epidemic situation develops, it will not be enough." Rieux listened attentively to the sounds in the room, then smiled at Rambert and said: "Yes, you should hurry up and get your work done." A shadow passed over Rambert's face, and he said in a low voice: "You know, that's not why I went." Rieux replied that he knew this, but Rambert went on: "I'm sure I'm not a coward. Most of the time, at least, I've been tested. It's just that when I think of certain situations, I Just can't take it." The doctor looked straight into his face: "You will meet her." "Perhaps, but I can't bear the thought of this going on, and that she will grow old during this time. A man of thirty is beginning to grow old, and must take every opportunity. I don't know if you understand." Rieux whispered that he believed he could understand.At this moment, Tarrou came, very excited. "I just went to invite Paneloux to join us in our work." "What was the result?" asked the doctor. "After thinking about it, he agreed." "I am glad," said the doctor, "I am glad to know that he is better than his sermons." "It's the same for everyone," Tarrou said, "just give them a chance." He smiled and winked at Rieux. "Creating opportunities for people is what I will do all my life." "I beg your pardon," said Rambert, "I must go." Rambert arrived under the porch of the church on the Thursday appointed, five minutes before eight o'clock.The air was still quite fresh, and there were small round white clouds floating in the sky that were about to be swallowed up by the rising thermals at once.Although the lawn is dry, you can still smell a faint dampness emanating from it.The sun behind the houses in the east only warmed the helmets of the gilded statues of Joan of Arc that adorned the square.A big clock struck eight.Rambert took a few steps under the deserted porch.There was an indistinct sound of reciting hymns from the church, and at the same time there was a mixed smell of cellars and incense.Suddenly, the sound of reciting poems stopped, and a dozen short black figures came out of the church and walked towards the city with hurried steps.Rambert was beginning to grow impatient.More black figures came up the big stone steps towards the porch.He lit a cigarette, and then it occurred to him that smoking was probably not allowed in this place. At a quarter past eight, the organ in the church began to play in a low voice.Rambert went under the dark vault.After a while, in the main hall, he saw the black figures passing in front of him.They all gathered in a corner, and in front of it was a temporary altar with a just-arranged statue of Saint Roque made by a factory in the city.Kneeling there, these figures seem to have curled up into a ball, hidden in the smog, like some frozen shadows, piled here and piled there, the color of which is not much darker than the gray mist.Above them, the organ played endlessly changing tunes. When Rambert came out, Gonzales had already descended the steps towards the city. "I think you're gone," he told reporters. "That's no surprise." He explained that he was waiting not far from here for some friends whom he had arranged to meet at 50:00.But he waited for twenty minutes in vain. "This must have encountered some problems, and it will not be smooth sailing in our business." He made another appointment to meet at the Memorial at the same time the next day.Rambert sighed and pushed back his felt hat. "It doesn't matter," Gonzales said with a smile, "Think about it: in a football game, you need to have all kinds of cooperation, enter the opponent's position, pass the ball, and you can score a goal only after you complete this whole set." "That's right," said Rambert, "but a football game only lasts an hour and a half." The site of the Åland Veterans Memorial is the only place where you can see the sea.It's a not-too-long walk on one side against the cliffs overlooking the harbour.The next day, Rambert arrived at the meeting place first, and carefully read the list of fallen soldiers.A few minutes later, two people came over, looked at him calmly, and then went to the railing of the promenade to look over the railing, as if concentrating on looking down on the empty harbor.They were both the same build, and both wore the same blue trousers and the same short-sleeved navy blue sweater.The reporter moved a little farther away to sit on a bench so he could look at them at his leisure.He saw that they were certainly not more than twenty years old.At that point, he saw Gonzales approaching and apologized to him. He said: "That is our friend." After that, he took him to the two young people and introduced their names: one was Marcel and the other was Louis.From the front they looked so much alike that Rambert supposed that they were brothers. "Okay," Gonzales said, "now that you know each other, it's time to get down to business." I don't know whether it was Marcel or Louis who said that it will take two more days for them to be on duty for a week, and they must wait for the most convenient day to act.There are four people guarding the west gate, and the other two are professional soldiers.Not to mention bringing them in as well.They were unreliable, not to mention the added expense, but some evenings the two of them would spend part of their time in the back room of a familiar bar.Marcel—or perhaps Louis—suggested that Rambert should go and stay at their house near the checkpoint until they were notified.In this way, there will be no difficulty in getting out of the city, but it is necessary to hurry up, because there have been rumors that a double sentry will be set up on the outskirts of the city. Rambert agreed, and offered them some of his remaining cigarettes.The one who hadn't spoken yet asked Gonzales if the fee had been negotiated and if he could pay some money in advance. "No," Gonzales said, "you don't have to do that, it's your own. We'll settle the bill when we leave." They made another appointment, and Gonzales proposed to have dinner at the Spanish restaurant in two days, and from there they would go to the house of the two guards. He told Rambert: "I will accompany you on the first night." Another day later, Rambert, going upstairs to his room, met Tarrou on the stairs of the hotel. "I'm going to see Rieux," said the latter, "will you go with me?" "I'm always afraid of disturbing him," said Rambert, after a moment's hesitation. "I don't think so. He tells me a lot about you." The reporter thought for a while and said: "I said, if you're free after dinner, it might as well be a little later, and you both come to the hotel bar." "It depends on him and the epidemic," Tarrou said. Rieux and Tarrou arrived at the small and cramped bar at eleven o'clock in the evening.Thirty people crowded there talking loudly.The two visitors who had just escaped from the silent environment of the plagued city stopped, a little at a loss.When they see that they can also buy alcohol to drink here, they understand why people are excited.Rambert was at the end of the counter, and he greeted them from a high stool, and they came up to him.Calmly, Tarrou pushed away a noisy person nearby. "Do you avoid alcohol?" "No," said Tarrou, "on the contrary." Rieux sniffed the bitter herbaceous smell of the wine in his glass.It was difficult to speak amidst this din, and Rambert seemed to have nothing to do but drink.Doctors couldn't tell if he was drunk.Apart from the counter where they drink, there are only two tables in this small room. On one of the seats, there is a naval officer with a woman on each arm. He is telling a red-faced fat man about what happened in Cairo. A case of typhus.He said: "There are concentration camps! These concentration camps are set up for the locals. Some tents are set up to accommodate patients, but there are guards all around. If the family members of the patients try to sneak in the local medicine, they will be shot. It's impersonal, but it's done right." Another table was occupied by a couple of young men in costume, the conversation incomprehensible, drowned out by the sound of "St. In the melody of James Hospital. "Satisfied?" Rieux raised his voice. "It's coming soon," said Rambert, "perhaps within this week." "What a pity!" cried Tarrou. "why?" Tarrou looked at Rieux. "Oh!" said Rieux. "Tarrou said that because he thought you could help us if you could stay here. And I know very well why you are leaving." Tarrou offered them another glass of wine.Rambert stepped down from his high stool and looked at him for the first time: "What can I do for you?" "Here," said Tarrou, reaching for his glass in a deliberate manner, "can come to our sanitary organization." Rambert resumed his usual obstinate deliberation, and sat down on his stool again. "Don't you think these organizations are useless?" Tarrou said, taking a sip of his wine, looking attentively at Rambert. "Very useful." The reporter said, taking a sip of wine. Rieux noticed that Rambert's hands were shaking.Yes, he thought, the reporter must be completely drunk. The next day, Rambert entered the Spanish restaurant for the second time. He passed among a small group of people who had moved their chairs to the door and were admiring the evening scenery when the heat had receded, the trees were shaded, and the sky was full of sunset clouds.They smoke a pungent tobacco.There were hardly anyone in the restaurant.Rambert went and sat down at the table in the back of the room where he had first met Gonzales.He told the waitress he had to wait.It was half past seven, and people gradually returned to the shop to take their seats.The food was served, and the low-vaulted dining room was filled with the clatter of cutlery and murmurs of conversation.At eight o'clock, Rambert waited, the lights came on, and the new customers sat down at his table.He ordered.By 8:30, after dinner, Gonzales and the two young men had not yet arrived.He smoked a few cigarettes.The number of people in the shop gradually decreased.The night fell very quickly outside, and a gust of warm wind blowing from the sea slightly brushed the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows.At nine o'clock, Rambert noticed that the shop was empty, and the waitress was watching him in bewilderment.He paid his bill and left.The café opposite the hotel was open, and Rambert went in and sat at the counter, watching the entrance of the restaurant carefully.At nine-thirty, he got up and went back to the hotel, thinking in vain about how to find Gonzales, who didn't know where he was, and feeling overwhelmed at the thought of having to start all over again from the beginning. As he later told Rieux, it was at this moment, during the night when the ambulance drove, that he felt that his wife had been left behind, so to speak, for the whole time, and he had been absorbed in thinking about the relationship between him and her. Open a gap in the dividing wall.But just at the moment when all these channels were cut off again, her image reappeared in the center of his desire, and a sudden burst of pain made him run to the hotel, trying to escape this unbearable inner torment. But it kept chasing after him, giving him a splitting headache. Early the next morning he came to Rieux and asked him how to find Cottard: "The only thing I can do now is to start from scratch step by step." "You will come tomorrow evening," said Rieux. "Tarrou wants me to invite Cottard. I don't know why. He will be here at ten. You should come at ten-thirty." The next day, when Cottard came to Rieux's house, Tarrou and Rieux were talking about an unexpected cured case in Rieux's house. "Only one out of ten is the luck of this man." Lu said. "Ah! That's right," said Cottard. "It's not the plague." They told him that it was true, that it was the plague. "Since this person is cured, it cannot be the plague. You and I both know that the plague will not let a person go." Rieux said: "This is generally the case, but when you put in the effort, sometimes something unexpected happens." Cottard smiled. "It doesn't look like it. Did you hear the numbers for tonight?" Tarrou looked at the pensioner benevolently and said that he knew the figures and that the situation was serious, but what did that mean?This simply means that more extraordinary measures are still to be taken. "Ah! Aren't you already doing it?" "That's good, but it has to be done for everyone to make it their own business." Cottard looked at Tarrou without understanding him.Tarrou said that too many people had not acted, and that the plague was everyone's business and everyone's responsibility.The doors of voluntary organizations are open to everyone. "That's a good idea," said Cottard, "but it's of no use: the plague is too bad." Tarrou said patiently: "We cannot come to a conclusion until we have tried everything." While they were talking, Rieux was transcribing cards on his desk.Tarrou kept looking at the annuitant restless in his chair. "Why don't you want to come and join us, Monsieur Cottard?" Cottard stood up as if offended, took up his round hat, and said: "It's not my business." Then he said in a contradictory tone: "Besides, me, I don't do too badly with the plague, and I don't see why I should join in trying to stop it." Tarrou patted himself on the forehead, suddenly realized: "Ah! By the way, I forgot that you were arrested without it." Cottard jumped up abruptly, clutching at the chair as if about to fall.Rieux put down his pen and gazed at him gravely and concernedly. "Who told you that?" cried the pensioner. Tarrou looked surprised and said: "It's you! At least that's how the doctor and I understand it." Cottard suddenly became furious and began to speak incoherently.Then Tarrou went on: "Please don't get excited, neither the doctor nor I will expose you. You have nothing to do with us. Besides, the police station, we have never liked it. Come, please." Sit down." Cottard looked at the chair, hesitated and sat down.After a while, he sighed. "It's a thing of the past," he admitted, "and they want to bring it up again. I thought people had forgotten it, but one person spoke up. They called me in and told me they were investigating the future. Be on hand until it's over. I know they're going to get me someday." "Is it serious?" Tarrou asked. "It depends on what you say. Anyway, it's not a murder." "Confinement or hard labor?" Cottard looked very depressed. "Prisoner, that's my luck..." But after a while, he repeated in a vehement tone: "It was a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. But the thought of being taken away by it, cut off from family, cut off from habits, cut off from all my friendships, I couldn't bear." "Ah," asked Tarrou, "is that why you have committed suicide?" "Yes, it is an absurd thing, without a doubt." Rieux spoke for the first time, telling Cottard that he understood his fears, but that it might all be resolved. "Oh, for now, I know there's nothing to worry about." "I see," said Tarrou, "you will not join our organization." Cottard, turning his hat in his hand, looked up suspiciously at Tarrou. "Please don't blame me." "Of course not, but at least don't deliberately spread germs." Tarrou said with a smile. Cottard argued that he did not want the plague to come, that it came when it came, and that it was not his fault that the plague was making him prosperous at the moment.Rambert had just arrived at the door when he heard the annuitant exclaiming: "Besides, in my opinion, you are only wasting your efforts." Rambert learns that Cottard does not know where Gonzales lives.But it was always possible to wait for him in the little café.They agreed to go the next day.Since Rieux expressed his desire to know what had happened, Rambert asked him and Tarrou to come and see him in his room on weekend evenings, any time of the week. In the morning, Cottard and Rambert went to the small café and sent word to García to make an appointment to meet in the evening, and if it was inconvenient, the meeting would be postponed until the next day.They waited all night for nothing.The next day, Garcia arrived, and he listened quietly to Rambert's account.Garcia was not familiar with the situation, but he was informed that for the factory to verify the household registration, some areas were banned for 24 hours.It is possible that Gonzales and the two youths could not pass through the cordon.至于他力所能及的，就是使他们重新同拉乌尔取得联系，当然这不可能在两天以内办妥。 “我明白了，”朗贝尔说，“就是说一切都得重起炉灶。” 两天后，拉乌尔在路角上证实了加西亚的说法：城市外围地区曾禁止通行。必须同贡扎莱斯再度取得联系。两天后朗贝尔同那个足球运动员一起进午餐。 “我们真笨，”贡扎莱斯说，“我们早就该考虑好碰头的办法。” 朗贝尔完全有同感。 “明天早晨，我们到那两个小家伙家里去，把一切都安排好。” 次日，两个年轻人不在家。他们只好留下一个约会的时间，定在第二天中午国立中学广场见面。朗贝尔下午回家时遇到塔鲁，他的面部表情引起了塔鲁的注意c“怎么，事情不成吗？”塔鲁问他。 “重起炉灶搞累了。”朗贝尔说。 他又再次提出邀请： “今晚请过来。” 当晚两个人走进朗贝尔的房间时，他躺在床上。他起来在预先准备好的杯子里斟了酒。里厄拿起了他的酒杯问他事情是否正在顺利地进行。记者说他把全部环节从头至尾又干了一遍，现在已到达前一次同样的程度，他即将去赴最后一次约会。他喝了一口酒又说：“当然罗，他们还是不会来的。” “不要把这看成是一种规律嘛。”塔鲁说。 “你们还没有懂得。”朗贝尔耸耸肩膀说。 “没懂什么呢？” “鼠疫。” “啊！”里厄叫起来。 “不，你们没有懂得，就是这个要叫人重起炉灶。” 朗贝尔走到他房间的一个角落里，打开一台小型留声机。 “这是什么唱片？”塔鲁问，“听上去怪熟的。” 朗贝尔回答说是《圣詹姆斯医院》。 在唱片放到一半的时候，远处传来两声枪响。 “不是一条狗便是一个逃犯。”塔鲁说。 过了一会，唱片放完了，可以听到一阵救护车的呼啸声，声音越来越大，在旅馆房间窗口下面经过，渐渐微弱，直至最后完全消失。 “这张唱片听了使人怪难过的，”朗贝尔说，“我今天已足足听了十遍了。” “您那么喜欢它？” “不，但我只有这一张。” 过了一会儿，朗贝尔又说： “我对你们说还得重起炉灶哪！” 他问里厄卫生防疫队工作进行得怎样。里厄回答说有五个队在工作，希望再组织一些。记者坐在床边，好像一心专注在他的指甲上。里厄打量着他蟋曲在床边的粗矮壮健的身形。忽然他发现朗贝尔在注视着他。朗贝尔说：“您知道，医生，我对你们的组织考虑得很多。我没有和你们一起工作，有我的理由。还有，我认为自己还是个不怕冒生命危险的人。我参加过西班牙战争。” “是在哪一边？”塔鲁问道。 “失败者的一边，但从那时起，我思考了一些问题。” “思考什么？”塔鲁问。 “勇气。现在我明白人是能够做出伟大的行动的c但是如果他不具有一种崇高的感情的话，那就引不起我的兴趣。” “我的印象是，人是任何事情都能干的。”塔鲁说。 “不见得，他不能长期受苦或长期感到幸福，因此他做不出任何有价值的事来。” 他看了他们一眼又说： “您说说，塔鲁，您能为爱情而死吗？” “我不知道，但目前看来不会。” “对啦，但您能为理想而死，这是有目共睹的事。为理想而死的人我是看够了。我并不相信英雄主义，我知道这并不难，而且我已懂得这是要死人的事。使我感兴趣的是为所爱之物而生，为所爱之物而死。” 里厄一直留神倾听着记者的话，始终望着他。这时他和颜悦色地说：“人不是一种概念，朗贝尔。” 对方一下子从床上跳起来，激动得脸色通红。 “人是一种概念，不过，一旦脱离了爱情，人就成为一种为时极短的概念。而现在正好我们不能再爱了，那么，医生，让我们安心忍耐吧。让我们等着能爱的时刻到来；如果真的没有可能，那就等待大家都得到自由的时候，不必去装什么英雄。我嘛，只有这点想法。” 里厄站了起来，好像突然感到厌倦起来。 “您说得对，朗贝尔，说得完全对，我丝毫没有叫您放弃您想干的事情的意图，您的事我认为是正确的，是好的。然而我又必须向您说明：这一切不是为了搞英雄主义，而是实事求是。这种想法可能令人发笑，但是同鼠疫作斗争的唯一办法就是实事求是。” “实事求是是指什么？”朗贝尔突然严肃起来问道。 “我不知道它的普遍意义。但是就我而言，我知道它的意思是做好我的本分工作。” “啊！”朗贝尔怒气冲冲地说，“我不知道我的本分工作是什么。我选择了爱情，也许这事儿做错了？” 里厄面对着他，有力地说道： “不，您没有做错。” 朗贝尔若有所思地看着他们。 “你们二位，我看你们在这一切活动中，一点也不会失去什么：在正路上走嘛，总是容易的。” 里厄端起酒杯一饮而尽，说： “走吧，我们还有事呢。” He walked out. 塔鲁跟在他后面，但刚走出去又改变了主意，回过头来对记者说：“您知道吗，里厄的妻子在离这里儿百公里之外的一个疗养所里？” 朗贝尔做了一个表示惊异的动作，但塔鲁已走开了。 第二天一大早，朗贝尔打了个电话给里厄： “在我找到离开这座城市的办法之前，您能同意我跟你们一块儿干一阵子么？” 对方在电话里沉默了一会儿，接下来说： “行，朗贝尔。谢谢您。”