Chapter 10 6-2

This wedding dance went on for a long time.Two or three times the music stopped, the wind players put down their instruments, the pianist rose from his seat, the first violinist shook his head in refusal.But each time, the last of the swooning dancers begged them to play it again, so the band's embers were rekindled and they had to play it again, faster and faster and more frantic.Suddenly—we had just greedily danced the last dance, panting, and stood after each other—the lid snapped shut, and we dropped our arms as wearily as the wind player, the fiddler, the flute player Squinting his eyes, he put the flute into the box.The door opened, a gust of cold wind rushed into the ballroom, the messenger walked in with a coat, and the lights in the bar hall were turned off.Everyone fled around like ghosts and frighteningly, and the dancers who were still radiant just now shivered and hurriedly put on their coats and turned up their collars.Hermine stood there, pale, but smiling.Slowly she raised her arms, brushed her hair back, her armpits gleamed in the morning mist, and from there to her clothed breasts a faint, infinitely soft figure was visible, and I felt the short, undulating Her lines, like her smile, contain all her charm and all the charm of her graceful figure.

We stood there, staring at each other, and the hall was gone, the whole building was gone.I heard a door slam against somewhere below, smashing the glass frame, a giggle fading away, and then the rushing noise of a car engine.There was a burst of laughter in the distance, which sounded very hearty and happy, but at the same time it was scary and strange, as if it was composed of crystals and ice, bright and shining, but cold and ruthless.I seem to be familiar with this peculiar laughter, but I can't tell where it came from. The two of us stood there, looking at each other.For a moment, I woke up. I felt extremely tired from behind and felt the sweaty clothes sticking to my body, which was very uncomfortable.

hands with bursting blood vessels.But the feeling was fleeting, Hermine's glance wiped it away.My own soul seemed to look at me from her eyes, and under her gaze all reality collapsed, the reality of my sensual pursuit of her collapsed.We looked at each other like a demon, and my poor little soul at me. "Are you ready?" asked Hermine, her smile gone, and the shadow on her breast gone.The strange laughter seemed loud and far away in the strange room. I nod.Oh yes, I'm ready. At this moment, the musician Pablo appeared at the door, looking at us, his cheerful eyes sparkled; his eyes were animal eyes, and animal eyes are always serious, while his eyes were always smiling. , which in turn makes his eyes human eyes.He very kindly motioned for us to pass.He was dressed in a colored silk dress, with a large red lapel and a softened shirt collar, from which his tired, pale face looked very out of place, but his gleaming black eyes obliterated the shadow.The eyes, too, erased reality, and radiated a kind of magic.

We walk over to him.He whispered to me at the door, "Brother Harry, I invite you to a small entertainment. Only crazy people can enter, and you have to lose your mind to enter. Would you like to go?" I nodded. my man!Gently and carefully, he took our arms, Hermione on the right, and me on the left, and led us down a flight of stairs into a small round room with a light blue ceiling. The room was almost empty, except for a small round table and three armchairs.We sit down on chairs. where are weI'm sleeping?I am at home?I'm riding in a car?No, I'm sitting in a circular room with blue lights and thin air, in a layer of reality that's already leaky.Why is Hermine so pale?Why is Pablo blah?Maybe it was I who made him talk, it was I who spoke through his mouth?Was it not my own soul that looked at me from his black eyes, and my own soul, that dejected and timid bird, that looked at me from Hermine's gray eyes?

Our friend Pablo looked at us in a sort of ceremonial, very friendly way, and talked on and on.I'd never heard him speak coherently before, he wasn't interested in discussion and rhetoric, and I hardly ever believed he had thoughts.Now he speaks in his beautiful, soft voice, very fluently and with just the right words. "Friends, I invite you to an entertainment event that Harry has dreamed of. Of course, it is a little late, and maybe we are all a little tired. So we will rest here for a while and have a drink." From an alcove he took out three groves, a ridiculously shaped vial, and a small exotic colored wooden box.He filled three glasses, took out three long, thin yellow cigarettes from the wooden box, took out a lighter from the pocket of his silk jacket, and lit us.We leaned back in our chairs and smoked slowly. The smoke from the cigarettes was thick, like incense smoke.We slowly sipped the sour-sweet liquid, the taste was strange and never tasted, it made people feel extremely excited, very happy, it made people feel like they were inflated, lost gravity and floated up.We sat like this, resting and smoking, drinking the liquid, and gradually feeling lighter and happier.At the same time, Pablo said in a deep, soft voice:

"Dear Harry, I am delighted to be able to entertain you a little today. You often feel that you are tired of your life and that you are trying so hard to get out of here, don't you? You long to get out of this time, out of this world, out of this reality, into another world. Go to a reality that suits you better, to a world that has no time. You can do it, dear friend, and I invite you to do it. You know, of course, where this world hides, and the world you seek is you Your own soul world. The other reality you long for exists only in your own heart. I can't give you what doesn't exist in yourself. I can only open the painting hall of your soul. Except chance, push and key , I can give you nothing. I can only reveal your own world, nothing more."

He reached into the pocket of his colored silk shirt again and took out a small round mirror. "Look, this is how you saw yourself before." He held the mirror up to my eyes, and I suddenly remembered a nursery rhyme: "Mirror, the little mirror in your hand".I see a horrible picture, a little blurred, a little overlapping, of something moving within itself, violently churning within itself.I saw myself—a Harry Harrell, and within Harry I saw Steppenwolf, a cowardly, well-built wolf looking at me in bewilderment and fear, its eyes blazing and sometimes menacing , sometimes sad, the image of this wolf flows into Harry's body through non-stop movements, just like when a tributary flows into a big river, it is stirred and mixed with another color. The inextricable longing, the longing to take form.The liquid, unformed wolf looked at me sadly with those graceful, timid eyes.

"That's how you see yourself," Pablo whispered again, putting the mirror back in his pocket.I closed my eyes gratefully.Sip that wine. "We rested," said Pablo, "we had a drink and a little chat. If you don't feel tired anymore, I'll show you my kaleidoscope and show you my little theater." .Do you agree?" We stood up and Pablo led the way with a smile as he opened a door and drew back a curtain.So we found ourselves standing in the horseshoe-shaped corridor of a theatre, right in the middle of it, an arched corridor opening in two directions, along which there were innumerable narrow box doors.

"This is our theater," Pablo explained, "the theater of entertainment, I hope you find all kinds of funny things." But the sound shocked me strongly. This was the hearty and strange laughter I had heard upstairs before. "My little theater has countless box doors, more than you can hope for, ten, a hundred, a thousand, and behind each door there is something waiting for you. This is a Nice studio, my dear friend, but it won't do you any good to run around like you're doing now. You'll be blocked and dazed by what you're used to calling your personality You have no doubt guessed that whatever name you call your longing, overcoming time, relief from reality, or whatever, it is your desire to get rid of your so-called personality. This personality is a prison, and you are trapped in it. If you enter the theater with the old calendar, you will see everything through the eyes of Harry, through the reading glasses of Steppenwolf. So please put down these glasses, put down this noble Leave them here in the coat locker, and you can get them back at any time, at your convenience. The beautiful ball you just attended, the Steppenwolf papers, and the stimulants we just took have probably given you enough Get ready. You, Harry, after you have deposited your noble personality, you can visit the left side of the theater. Hermione looks at the right side. You can meet again when you are inside. Hermione, please temporarily retreat to the Go behind the curtain and I'll show Harry first.

"Okay, Harry, come with me now. Get in a good mood. To get you in a good mood, to teach you to laugh, that's what this event is about. I hope you'll cooperate and not embarrass me. You're feeling good, aren't you?" Well? Not frightened? Well, very well. As is the custom here, you will now enter our false world without fear and with heartfelt joy, by feigning suicide." He took out the small mirror again and held it up in front of me.Harry looked at me again, and there was a disjointed, blurred figure of a struggling wolf pushing against Harry.It was a picture I was so familiar with, and indeed unlovable, that ruining it a little would not worry me.

"Dear friend, now please remove this mirror painting which has become superfluous. You don't have to do anything more. If your mood allows, you just look at this painting with a sincere laugh. Now you In the school of humor you are supposed to learn to laugh. Once people stop taking themselves seriously, all higher humor begins." I stared straight at the small mirror, at the small mirror in my hand.In the mirror, Harry the wolf was trembling and twitching.For a moment, I also twitched deep inside, softly, but painfully, like a memory, like nostalgia, like regret.Then a new feeling replaced the slight oppression.The sensation is similar to what one feels when a tooth is pulled out of a cocaine-numbed mouth; one feels relieved and takes a deep breath.At the same time, I was surprised that it didn't hurt at all.At the same time, I felt very elated and wanted to laugh, and finally I couldn't help laughing out loud with relief. The fuzzy little mirror painting jumped and disappeared, and the small round mirror suddenly became gray, rough, and opaque as if it had been burned.Pablo laughed and dropped the shattered mirror, which rolled forward and disappeared on the floor of the long, endless corridor. "Good laugh, Harry," cried Pablo, "you keep on laughing like an immortal. Now, at last, you've killed Steppenwolf. Not with a razor. Be careful not to let him live Come here! Soon you will be able to leave the stupid reality, and we will become brothers at the first chance. My dear. You have never liked me like this. If you think it is important, then we can discuss philosophical issues, Argue with each other, talk about Mozart, Gluck, Plato and Goethe, have a good time. Now you will understand why it didn't work before. I hope you succeed, I hope you get rid of Steppenwolf today. Because, of course, your suicide is not Thoroughly; we are in a magic theater, where there are only pictures and no reality. Please find beautiful and interesting pictures that show that you are really no longer obsessed with your questionable personality! If you long to regain it, then Just one look in the mirror is enough and I can hold it up to you in no time. But you know that old wisdom saying: A town in your hand is better than two mirrors on a wall. Hahaha! She's smiling so beautifully and terribly again. Well, now just a little fun little ceremony. You've thrown away your personality glasses, come, now look into a real mirror! It will make You are happy." He laughed, made a few funny gestures at me, and turned me around.At this time, I was facing a wall with a large mirror hanging on the wall.I look at myself in the mirror. In that brief moment, I saw the Harry I knew so well, and saw his bright face, he was in a very good mood, smiling heartily.But as soon as I recognized him, he scattered, and out of him a second Harry emerged, and then a third, and a tenth, and a twentieth, and there was Harry in that huge mirror. Or Harry's incarnation, there are countless Harrys in it, and I only see each Harry for a flash like lightning, and as soon as I recognize him, another one comes out.Among the innumerable Harrys, some are as old as I am, some are older than I am, some are already very old, and some are very young, still a young man, a schoolboy, "children. The Harrys ran around together, thirty and five, serious and jaunty, serious and ridiculous, well-dressed and ragged and naked, bald and long-haired, all agitating. Running around together, each one of them is me, each one I see for a split second like lightning, as soon as I recognize him, he disappears, they run away in every direction, some left, some right , some ran into the depths of the mirror, some ran out of the mirror. A young man in elegant clothes laughed and ran to Pablo's chest, hugged him, and ran away with him. A sixteen or seventeen-year-old I was particularly fond of the handsome boy who ran like a bolt of lightning into the corridor, eagerly looking at the signs on all the doors. I ran after him. He stopped before a door, and I saw It says: ┌————————————┐ │All girls are yours! │ │Put a mark│ └—————————————┘ The cute boy jumped in, headfirst, into the money slot, and disappeared behind the door. Pablo was gone, the mirror was gone, and the countless images of Harry were gone.I feel that now it's just me and the theater, and I can watch as I please.Curiously, I went to each door and looked at them one by one. On each door I saw a sign with the words of temptation or promise written on it. On one door it was written: ┌—————————————┐ │Please come and hunt happily! │ │Hunting cars│ └—————————————┘ These words tempted me, and I opened the narrow door and walked in. I suddenly entered a noisy and busy world.Cars (some of them armored) were running down the road, chasing pedestrians, grinding them to a pulp, driving them against house walls and crushing them to death.I knew right away: this is a battle between man and machine, this is a long-awaited, long-prepared, long-feared struggle, and now it is finally breaking out.There are dead people lying here and there, people who have been crushed without arms and legs, crashed, twisted, and burnt cars everywhere, planes are circling over the chaotic battlefield, and people are everywhere from roofs and windows. Shooting at the plane with shotguns and machine guns.All the walls were plastered with bold, colorful, piercing placards in huge letters bright red like flaming torches.These slogans called on the whole country to stand on the side of man, to go to the battlefield against the machine, to kill the fat-headed and satin-wearing.A rich man who exudes fragrance.Smash up their big coughing exhausts and devilish yelps, the rich suck every drop of oil out of other people with their machines.The placards called on the whole country to set fire to the factories, clear out some tortured land, reduce the population, let the land grow green grass, and turn the dusty concrete world into forests, grasslands, wastelands, streams and swamps.On the contrary, there are other placards very beautifully drawn, very graceful, with pastel colors, and very clever and witty writing, which are quite attractive warnings of impending anarchic chaos to all wealthy and thinking people. It vividly described the benefits of order, labor, property, culture, and law, and praised the machine as the highest and most recent invention of man, with which man will become a god.I read these red and green slogans thoughtfully and admiringly. The words of the slogans were burning like fire, very eloquent and logical.Sometimes I stood in front of this slogan for a while, and sometimes I stayed in front of that slogan for a while. Of course, the sound of fierce shooting around me was always disturbing me.OK, back to square one, the main thing is clear: this is war, a fierce, fiery, very sympathetic war, and people are not fighting for an emperor, a republic, or borders, for a party or a party Fighting for pie, for a certain belief, not for something more decorative and dramatic like that, not for dastardly stuff at the end of the day.In this war, everyone who feels suffocated by the small space, everyone who finds life dull, expresses their disgust in such a violent way, and strives to completely destroy the world of false civilization.I saw that their eyes were bright and sincere, revealing murderous intentions and the joy of destroying everything. My own eyes were also like blood-red wild flowers, blooming red and big.I laughed as well as they did.I happily participated in the battle. But best of all, my high school classmate Gustav suddenly appeared next to me.He was one of the most mischievous, burly, joie de vivre friends of my childhood, and I didn't know a thing about him for decades.When I saw him blinking his light blue eyes and beckoning to me, I was suddenly elated.He greeted me, and I immediately walked over happily to him. "Oh, my God, Gustav," I exclaimed joyfully, "see you again! What have you become now?" He laughed angrily, exactly the same as when he was a child. "Bastard, do you have to ask this every time we meet and talk nonsense? I have become a theology professor. Well, you know what I do now, but fortunately I am not doing theology now, but fighting a war. Well, come on!" A car panted toward us.He shot the driver out of the car, jumped into the car with the swiftness of a monkey, stopped the car, and let me get in.Then we raced like devils through the hail of bullets and forward through wrecked cars, out of town. 'Which side of the factory are you on? "I asked my friend. "Ah, what, that's an insignificant question, we'll think about it out of town. No, wait a minute, of course I'll take the other side, though fundamentally the same. I'm a theologian, and my patriarch Luther It helped the aristocrats and the rich against the peasants back then, and now we’re going to put that right. It’s a classic car, let’s hope it lasts a few kilometers.” Like a God-sent wind, we raced forward at full speed, into a quiet country of green grass and woods, several miles wide, then across a large flat country, slowly on the A steep mountain.We stopped on the smooth, glistening road, between sheer rock faces on one side and low parapets on the other, winding upwards in sharp, sharp turns, rising higher and higher.There is a pool of blue lake below the road, shining with her waves. "This place is beautiful," I said. "It's beautiful. We may call this road the Axle Road, and it is said that many different axles have been broken here, little Harry, watch out! There is a huge five-needle pine beside the road, and a small shed is built with wooden boards on the tree. This is a waist watch post and a hunting platform.Gustav smiled heartily at me, blinked his blue eyes cunningly, we hurriedly got out of the car, climbed up the tree trunk, hid in the hope post, and took a deep breath.We love this sour look whistle.Inside, we found shotguns, pistols, and bullet boxes.We had just cooled down for a while and got ready for hunting when we heard the horn of a luxury car at the nearest corner. The horn was hoarse and arrogant.We've got our guns ready.Very nervous. "Take aim at the driver," Gustaf said immediately, and the car was passing right under us. I pointed at the driver's blue and pulled the trigger. The man fell in response, and the car was still moving forward, and it hit the rock. It bounced off the wall again, and hit the low parapet like a giant bumblebee hard and terribly, and the car flipped over with a thud. "It's done!" Gustav laughed. "I'll come to the next one." Another car drove up, with three or four passengers sitting on soft seats; a woman's head was covered with a veil that floated high, I felt sorry for this veil, who knows, in the Under this scarf, perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world is laughing.Good God, if we play robbers, we better follow the example of those greats, and not extend our murderous mania to pretty women.But Gustav had already fired.The driver convulsed and collapsed in the car, which hit the razor-sharp rock, flew high into the air, on its wheels, and fell back onto the road with a thud.We waited, and there was no movement in the car, and the people lay under the car as silent as mice caught in a mousetrap.The car was still rattling, the wheels were spinning ridiculously in the air, and suddenly there was a terrible explosion, and the car suddenly caught fire. "It's a Ford," Gustav said. 'We have to go down and clear the road. " We got down from the trees and looked at the still burning wreckage of the car.The car burned out quickly. We broke off small trees to make pry bars, sowed the burned car to the side of the road, climbed over the low wall, and pushed it down the cliff. The bushes below the mountain were interrupted and crackled for a long time.When the car was turned over, the two deceased fell out of the car and lay on the ground with some of their clothes burned.One man's clothes were in good order, and I checked his pockets to see if I could find anything that would show what he was about.I took out a wallet with business cards in it.I picked up one and it said: "Tattwamas!" "It's funny," Gustav said. "Then it doesn't matter what we kill what it's called. They're poor wretches like me, and names don't matter. The world is going to die, and we're going to die with it. Hold 'em in the water Ten minutes, the most painless solution. Alright, get to work!" We throw the dead off the cliff too.Another car approached with a toot.We simply shot at it from the road and it hit.The car staggered forward like a drunk, then overturned and stopped with a whoosh.A passenger sat motionless in the car, while a young, pretty girl, pale and trembling, got out of the car without injury.We greeted her cordially and offered to serve her.She was so startled that she couldn't say a word, and stared at us for a while in a delirious state. "Okay, let's go see that old gentleman first," Gustav said and walked towards the passenger.He leaned in the seat behind the dead driver, with short gray hair and bright, light gray eyes.He looked badly wounded, with blood streaming from his mouth and his stiff neck slanted. "Old sir, excuse me, my name is Gustav. We dared to kill your driver. Please give me your name!" The old man's small hair eyes looked at us coldly and sadly. 'I'm Prosecutor Rollin,' he said slowly. 'You guys killed not only my poor driver, you killed me, and I think I'm done.Why are you shooting at us? " "You're driving too fast." "We are not driving fast, it is normal speed." "What was normal yesterday is not normal today, Mr. Prosecutor. Today we think that any car is too fast. We are now destroying cars, all cars and all other machinery." They destroy your shotguns too? " "Yes, if we've got time, it'll be shotgun. To-morrow or the day after tomorrow we'll all be gone. You know; we've got too many people in this place. Look! What's needed now is air." "Did you guys shoot everyone without a choice?" "Of course. No doubt a great pity for some. This pretty lady, for example, has made us very hard. Is she your daughter?" "No, it's my stenographer." "That's better. Get out of the car now, or shall we pull you out? We're going to destroy the car." "I'd rather die with the car." "As you please. Allow me to ask another question. You are the prosecutor. I never understood how a man can be a prosecutor. You accuse others, you sentence them, most of them are poor people .That's all you live on.Is it?" "Yes. I do my duty. It is my duty. Just as it is the executioner's job to kill the man whom I have condemned to death. Aren't you doing the same thing now? You are killing too." "We kill. We do not, however, do our duty, but for entertainment, or rather out of dissatisfaction, out of desperation for the world. So killing gives us a little pleasure. Killing never makes you happy." ?” "You guys are so boring. Please do yourself a favor and finish your work. If you don't know the concept of duty at all..." He stopped talking and moved his lips as if to spit.But all that came out was a little blood, stuck to his chin. "Wait a moment, please," said Gustav politely. "I don't know the concept of responsibility, and I don't understand it now. In the past, my profession often dealt with this concept. I used to be a professor of theology. I also served as a soldier and fought on the front line. I think that all duties, all What authority and superiors order me to do is not good at all, and I would rather do the opposite. But although I don't know the concept of duty, I know the concept of guilt, and maybe they are the same thing. My mother bore me, I was guilty, I was meant to live, I was meant to belong to a country, to be a soldier to kill, to pay taxes for guns. Now, at this moment, as before in war, to live I have no objection to killing this time. I have no resentment in my heart. I have succumbed to the guilt. I have no objection to smashing this stupid, crowded world into pieces. I am willing to help destroy the world. I am also very willing to destroy together." The prosecutor tried to put a smile on that bloody mouth.Although he was not completely successful, his kindness can be seen. "That's good," he said. "We are colleagues, then. Please do your duty, Mr. Colleague." During this time, the beautiful girl collapsed by the side of the road and passed out. At this time, another car drove up at full speed with its horn beeping.We pulled the girl aside a little, leaning against the rock face, and let the new car drive up to the wreckage of the previous car.The car came to a sudden brake, and the front of the car was tilted into the air, but it stopped intact.We quickly picked up our guns and aimed at the newcomers. "Get out of the car!" Gustav ordered. "raise your hand!" Three men got out of the car and obediently raised their hands. "Is there any doctor among you?" asked Gustave. They said no. "Then please do me a favor and carefully lift this gentleman out of his seat. He is badly wounded. Take him and take him to the nearest city. Go forward and lift him down!" The old gentleman was soon settled in another car, and Gustav gave them the order to drive away. The female stenographer woke up and saw it all.I'm delighted that we captured such a beautiful trophy. "Miss," said Gustave, "you have lost your employer. I hope that in other respects the old gentleman is not particularly close to you. You are employed by me, please be our chap Come on! Come on, hurry up a little bit. There'll be trouble here in a moment. Can you climb a tree, miss? Yes? Well then. We'll put you between us, and we can help you." The three of us climbed to the sentry shed on the tree as fast as possible.The girl felt uncomfortable on it and wanted to throw up.She drank some brandy and recovered quickly.She saw the beautiful scenery of lakes and mountains, she appreciated it very much, and told us her name was Dora. At this time, another car drove up below, the car did not stop, carefully bypassed the fallen car, and then immediately increased the accelerator. "Want to run away?" Gustav laughed, and shot the driver. The car jumped wildly for a while, and then hit the parapet. The body collapsed and hung diagonally on the cliff. "Dora," I said, "do you know how to use a shotgun?" She doesn't know how to load bullets from us.At first she was clumsy, broke her finger, bled and blistered, and asked us for plaster.But Gustav told her that it was war now, and she was required to show courage and show that she was an obedient and brave girl.That's all. "But what will we do?" she continued. "I don't know," said Gustav, "my friend Harry likes pretty women, and he would be your friend." 'But they're going to come here with the police and the army and kill us. " "There's no more cops and all. We have a choice, Dora. We can stay here quietly and wreck every car that goes by, or we can get in a car and let somebody shoot us. It doesn't matter which one you choose. I advocate staying here" Another car came down, its horn beeping loudly.The car was quickly overturned, lying on its back on the road. "It's ridiculous how happy shooting can be," I said. "I used to be against war!" Gustav smiled. "Yeah, it seems like there are too many people in the world now. I didn't notice this before. Now, everyone not only needs to breathe air, but also has a car, which means there are too many people. Of course what we do here is not Irrational, this is a child's play, war is a big child's play. In the future, human beings will definitely learn to use rational means to control population growth. Right now, our reaction to this unbearable situation is quite irrational, but from Fundamentally, we're doing the right thing: we're reducing the population." "Yes," I said, "we may be doing crazy things, but they may be beneficial and necessary. Human beings use their brains too much, trying to use the power of reason to arrange things that are not within the reach of reason. , this is not good. This would create two ideals: the American ideal and the Bolshevik ideal, both of which are very sensible, but which are horribly distorted by the very naive simplification of both Life makes it impossible to live. People used to be regarded as lofty ideals, but now people's views are beginning to become uniform. We madmen may be able to make it noble again." Gustav laughed, After taking the words, he replied: "My brother, you speak wonderfully. It is really a joy to hear the sound of your well of wisdom, and I have benefited a lot. Maybe there is something wrong with what you said. But, please, Now let’s load the bullets first, I think you’re dreaming a little too much. There will be tigers running up at any time, we can’t kill them with philosophy, there must always be bullets in the barrel.” A car came up and was shot right away, blocking the road.A burly man with red hair survived, waving and stamping beside the broken car, looking around.He found our hiding place, came roaring, raised his pistol and shot us several times. "Go away, or I will shoot," Gustav shouted down.那汉子瞄准他又开了一枪。于是我们也开了两枪，把他打倒了。 后来又开上来两辆车，我们——一把它们击毁了。这以后，路上空空的，寂静无声，这一段路很危险的消息大概传开了。我们从容地观察前面的美景。山脚下，湖的彼岸是一座小城，城的上空冒着烟，我们看见房子一幢接一幢地起了火．我们也听见枪声。多拉小声地哭了起来，我抚摸她那沾满泪水的脸颊。 “难道我们大家都得死吗？”她问。No one answered.这时，从下面上来一位步行的人，他看见路上堆着许多破汽车，围着车东闻西看，然后弯身进了一辆汽车，不一会儿从里面拿出一把花阳伞，一个女式手提皮包和一瓶酒。他心境平和地坐到墙上，嘴巴对着瓶口喝着酒，一边从提包里拿出锡纸包着的东西吃了起来。他把那瓶酒喝了个精光，用胳膊夹着阳伞，快活地继续往前走了。他悠闲自得地走着。我对古斯塔夫说：“现在你能向这位讨人喜欢的汉子开枪，把他的脑袋穿个窟窿吗？天晓得，我可做不到。” “也没有人要求这样做，”我的朋友都吹了一句。他的心里也觉得不好受起来。我们没有再看那个人。他表现得那样善良、平和和天真，一身清白无辜，我们突然觉得，那些曾认为非常值得赞许、非常必要的行为是多么的愚蠢和厌恶。见鬼去吧，所有这些鲜血！我们感到羞愧。不过，据说在战争中，甚至将军们有时也有过这种感觉。 “我们不能继续在这里待下去了，”多拉诉苦道，“我们该下去，在车子里肯定能找到点吃的东西。你们这些布尔什维克难道不饿？” 山下，在烟火弥漫的城里响起了教堂的钟声，那钟声听起来既令人激动又令人害怕。我们准备下树。当我帮助多拉跨过哨棚的栏杆时，我吻了她的大腿。她爽朗地笑了。正在这时，树枝折断了，我们两人跌下万丈深渊……