Chapter 24 Chapter 24 Summon the Master

Everything in Wallander's bedroom was as it had been before the party.Wallander was still sitting on the bed in his shirt shirt, but Heller had stopped rubbing the medicine on his legs, and dinner was already set on the table where the chess board had been.Karloviev and Azazeller had already taken off their tuxedos and sat down at the dining table. Sitting next to them was naturally the black cat, which was still reluctant to take off the tie, even though it had completely become a piece of dirty cloth. .Margaret staggered to the table and held onto it with both hands.Woland still beckoned her to come over as before, and sat down on his body#.

"Well, what's the matter, are you tired?" Wallander asked. "Ah, no, my lord!" Marguerite answered, but her voice was almost inaudible. "It's hard for a high position!" ①The black cat interrupted from the side, and poured a glass of colorless transparent liquid from a slender goblet and handed it to Margaret. ①The Russian pinyin of a French idiom is used here in the original text, which means: Noble status will restrain people's behavior. "Is this vodka?" Marguerite asked feebly. The black cat seemed to be wronged, jumped up on the chair, and said in a hoarse voice:

"Excuse me, queen, shall I pour vodka for the lady? ①It's pure alcohol!" ① Generally, this kind of strong ordinary liquor is not used to entertain women. Margaret smiled sweetly, and was about to push away the wine glass when she heard Wallander say, "Drink it bravely." So Margaret raised the wine glass casually. "Helle, sit down too!" Wallander ordered, and then explained to Margaret: "The night of the full moon is a festival night, and on festival nights I usually dine with my cronies and servants." .Well, how are you all feeling? How's the exhausting party going?"

"The four are shocked and full of praise!" Karloviev replied in a voice like a tear, "The guests are all fascinated, and they all admire each other; Infinity!" Wallander silently raised his glass to touch Margaret's.Marguerite drank the wine meekly, thinking that her life was probably over.However, not only did she not experience any unhappiness, on the contrary, she felt a warm current of spiritual energy flowing down her stomach and intestines, and it seemed that something lightly tapped the back of her head, and her body regained its vitality, as if after a long period of recovery. I've just sat up after a long sleep, and I'm hungry, like a wolf.She remembered that she hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning, and she felt even more unbearably hungry.She ate the roe greedily.

Hippo cut a piece of pineapple, sprinkled some salt, and sprinkled some pepper.It ate the pineapple and gulped down the second glass of alcohol in a manly manner, causing everyone to clap and applaud. After the second glass of wine, the candles in the candelabra seemed to Marguerite to shine brighter, and the flame in the fireplace seemed to burn brighter.She wasn't drunk at all.She nibbled on the chunks of meat with her white teeth, sucking the juices that flowed out of the meat, while watching the hippo smear mustard on the oysters. "Put a few more grapes on the oyster!" Heller whispered, and stabbed the black cat in the ribs.

"Don't teach me!" Hippo replied, "I have been to a banquet! Don't worry, I have been!" "Ah! How beautiful it is to sit by the little fireplace like this, with one's own people, and have a free dinner! . . . " said Karloviev in a trembling voice. "No, Bassoon, I think the party is quite charming and imposing," said the black cat. Then Woland spoke again: "I don't think the party has any glamour, and it doesn't have any vibes. Those bad mixes and the roar of the tigers in the bar nearly gave me a migraine." "Yes, my lord," said the black cat, "if you think that you have no courage, I will hold the same opinion at once."

"Look at him!" said Wallander. "I was only joking," said the black cat meekly. "As for tigers, I can order them to be roasted." "Tiger meat can't be eaten," Heller said. "You said you can't eat it? Then listen to me tell you a story." So the black cat narrowed its eyes and said triumphantly that it once wandered in the desert for nineteen days, and the only food it had killed was the one it killed. Tiger meat.Everyone listened to the moving narrative of the black cat with great interest, but after listening to it, they shouted in unison:

"lie!" "The most interesting thing about his lie is that there is not a single truth in it from beginning to end," Wallander said. "Ah, what? I lied?" the black cat asked loudly.Everyone thought it was about to refute it, but unexpectedly it just whispered: "History will make a fair judgment." At this time, Marguerite, refreshed after drinking, asked Azazeller: "Excuse me, did you shoot him, the former Baron?" "Of course," Azazeller replied, "how could he not be killed? He must be killed." "I was terrified!" exclaimed Margaret. "I didn't think of it at all."

"That's unexpected!" Azazeller retorted. Karloviev also complained from the sidelines: "How can I not be terrified! I feel my knees go weak! There's a 'crack!'! Go! The baron falls!" "I'm almost not hysterical!" said the black cat, licking the little spoon from which the roe was scooped up. "There is one more thing I don't understand," Marguerite asked again, the golden stars reflected in the crystal glass danced in her eyes, "is it true that the music and the bustle of the party are not heard at all in the street?"

"Of course not, Queen," said Karloviev. "This kind of thing should be done so that no one can hear it. It should be done seriously." "That's not it, that's not it... because there is a person staying at the stairs... I remember I saw it when I came here with Azazelle...the other person was staying at the gate... I think that person must be the surveillance Your house..." "Yes! Yes!" cried Karloviev. "Yes, my dear Margarita Nikolaevna! You have confirmed my suspicions. He is watching the house. When I first saw him I also thought about it: This must be a non-staff associate professor who doesn’t care about everything, or someone who is suffering from unrequited love and foolishly waiting on the stairs. I didn’t expect it to be, not at all! Later, I felt very bad! Oh! This That guy is monitoring our gate 2, too! There's another guy squatting in the gate hole doing the same thing!"

"So, what if someone really comes to arrest you?" Margaret asked. "They will certainly come, Queen Charming," replied Karloviev. "I have a presentiment in my heart that they will come. Of course, they will not come immediately, but they will come when the time comes. But, I think, if they come, they will come." Nothing good will come of it." "Oh! I was so excited when the Baron fell," said Marguerite.It seems that the shooting scene she saw for the first time in her life is still vivid in her mind, "Your marksmanship must be very good, right?" "Not bad." Azazeller replied. "How far is it?" Margaret asked vaguely. "It depends on what to shoot and what to aim at," Azazeller's answer is reasonable. "It's one thing to smash the glass of critic Latunski's house with a hammer, but it's not so good to shoot him in the heart with a gun." Easy." "Beat the heart!" cried Margaret, clutching her chest for some reason. "Beat the heart!" she whispered again vaguely. "What's the deal with the critic Latunski?" Woland asked, looking at Margaery with narrowed eyes. Azazeller, Karloviev and Hippo all lowered their heads in shame.Marguerite blushed and replied: "There's a critic named Lattenski. I just broke up his house before I came here." "I didn't expect that! For what?" "It was he, my lord, who ruined a master," explained Margaret. "Then why bother yourself?" Wallander asked. "Let me do it, my lord," said the black cat, jumping happily. "Sit on yours," Azazeller muttered and stood up, "I'll go there myself right away..." "No," cried Marguerite, "no, I beg you, my lord, don't do that." "Whatever you want, whatever you want," Wallander replied.Azazeller sat down immediately. "Okay. Where are we talking, noble Queen Margo?" Karloviev continued what he had just said. "Oh, yes, talking about beating the heart," he pointed at Azadze with his long finger. Le said, "He can hit the human heart, and he can also choose any atrium or ventricle in the heart!" Margaret didn't understand right away, she froze for a moment, and then said in surprise: "The atrium and the ventricle are all wrapped inside, so you can't see them!" "Honey," Karloviev said in a broken gong-like voice, "it's because it's wrapped in it that it shows its skills! That's where the splendor lies! Who can't hit what's obvious?!" As Karloviev said, he took out a playing card "Seven of Spades" from the drawer and handed it to Margaret, asking her to make a mark on one of the spades with a fingernail.Margaret scratched the flower in the upper right corner.Heller stuffed the cards under the pillow on the bed and cried: "Ready!" Sitting with his back to the bed, Azazeller pulled a black automatic pistol from his dress pants pocket.He didn't turn around, just slung the gun over his shoulder, and fired a single shot from the muzzle.This amazed and amused Margaret.Take a look at the budding pillow - the seven of spades below is exactly the flower that Margaret marked, with a hole pierced. "I don't want to meet you when you have a gun in your hand." Marguerite said, looking at Azazelle charmingly.She has always admired all those who have special skills or expertise, and she often admires people with five bodies. "My lord queen," shrieked Karloviev, "even when he had no guns in his hand, I advise people not to meet him! I won't even wish him health!" The black cat, who had been sitting by the door silently during the shooting test, suddenly spoke: "I want to break his record of piercing the seven of spades!" Azazeller muttered something to it.But the black cat was determined and unshakable. It not only asked for a gun, but asked for two guns.Azazelle took out another gun from the other trouser pocket, and handed it to the blowhard with a contemptuous grin.Two more marks were made on the seven of spades.The black cat gestured with its back to the bed for a long time.Marguerite waited for the shot with her hands over her ears, looking absently towards the fireplace.She saw an owl dozing off on the fireplace shelf.The black cat's two school guns fired at the same time.Heller suddenly screamed, the owl that was killed fell to the ground, and the punctured wall clock stopped swinging.Heller, bleeding with one hand, wailed and grabbed the black cat by the back.The black cat didn't show any weakness, instead it grabbed Heller's hair.The two twisted into a ball, rolled to the ground, knocked down a large wine glass on the table and broke it. "Pull this crazy woman away!" the black cat yelled, struggling desperately under Helle's crotch.They were pulled apart.Karloviev blew on Heller's injured finger, and the wound healed immediately. "If someone is muttering next to me, my gun won't be able to shoot accurately!" The black cat defended itself while trying to stick a large bunch of hair that had been pulled off to its back. "I bet the black cat did it on purpose. He's a good shot, too," Wallander told Margaret, laughing. Heller reconciled with the black cat, and the two kissed each other as a sign of reconciliation.He took out the seven of spades from under the pillow and looked at them. Except for the small hole made by Azazeller, the other six spades were all good. "It's impossible!" The black cat picked up the card and looked at the candlestick, still unwilling to admit defeat. The dinner was going on in a cheerful atmosphere.Lines of candle tears slowly fell on the candlestick.Flames blazed in the fireplace, and bursts of fragrant warm wind wafted through the room like waves, refreshing.Marguerite was full of wine and food, contented, leisurely looking at the smoke ring of Azazeller's cigar.Gray-blue smoke drifted towards the fireplace, and the mischievous black cat was trying to catch the drifting smoke ring with its long sword.Marguerite had no desire to go anywhere now, although according to her own estimation, midnight was long past, and it would be five or six o'clock in the morning.Seeing the silence, Marguerite took the opportunity to turn to Woland and say timidly: "It looks like it's time for me to go...it's getting late." "Where are you going?" Wallander's tone was polite but dry.The others were silent, as if they were all playing with the smoke ring wholeheartedly. Seeing this attitude, Marguerite was still more embarrassed, and said again: "Yes, it is time to go." She turned away as if she was looking for a shawl or cloak, because at this time she Suddenly, I felt very embarrassed to be naked.Wallander silently picked up his worn, sweat-stained gown from the bedside, and Karloviev draped it over Margarita's shoulders. "Thank you, my lord!" Margaret said in a barely audible voice, and she looked at Woland questioningly.Wallander just smiled politely and indifferently at this.At this time, a feeling of sadness and sadness came from the bottom of Margaret's heart. She felt that she had been cheated-it seemed that no one had any intention of keeping her, and no one had any intention of serving her wholeheartedly at the party. Give rewards.She also clearly realized that she has nowhere to go after leaving here.Do I have to go back to that small building? —that fleeting thought aroused in her nothing but despair.Remembering Azazeller's seductive proposal to her on the bench in Alexandrov Park, she thought: "Should I make the request myself?" No!She secretly made up her mind: "No, never!" "Then I will take my leave, my lord." She was saying this, but she was thinking in her heart: as soon as I leave here, I will go straight to the river, jump in and die. "Sit down first," Woland suddenly said in a commanding tone, and Margaret's face changed suddenly, and she sat down obediently. "Maybe you have something to say before you leave?" "No, nothing, my lord," replied Marguerite proudly, "and, if you need me any more, I will still be at your service with all my might. I am not at all tired, and I had a very good time at the party." Pleasant. If the party were to go on, I would still be glad to have thousands of hanged men and murderers come and kiss my knees." Margaret's eyes were full of tears, and she seemed to be watching through clouds. Wallander. "Yes! You are absolutely right!" Woland said in a bell-like, ugly voice, "that's how it should be!" "That's how it should be!" Wallander's men said in unison like an echo. "We were testing you just now," Woland continued. "Remember, never ask for anything! Never ask for anything! Especially don't ask for someone who is more powerful than you. They themselves will provide you, they themselves will give you everything. Sit down, proud lady!" Wallander tore off the heavy gown Margaret was wearing, and she sat down beside him again beside.So Wallander went on, but in a much more genial tone: "Well, Marg, what do you want from being my hostess today? You presided over the party naked, and you How do you hope in return? How do you think you will be rewarded for the labor of your knees? How much have you suffered from my guests, whom you have just called 'hanged and murdered'? Tell me! Now I can speak with confidence and boldness, because I proposed it unsolicited." Margaret felt her heart beat violently.She took a deep breath, and only then did she feel her mind begin to think. "Here, go on, be brave!" Woland encouraged her. "Wake up your imagination, let your imagination run wild, and go fast! Just witnessing the execution of that incorrigible baron is worth the reward, What's more, the witness is a woman. Now, tell me!" Marguerite was so excited that she couldn't breathe. She was about to say the words that had been buried in her heart for a long time and had been considered for a long time, but suddenly her face turned pale, her eyes widened, and her tongue fell open. "Frieda! Frieda! Frieda!" she felt a haunting, pleading voice shouting in her ears: "My name is Frieda!" and Marguerite stammered. asks: "So, I, can I ask you one thing?" "It's a request, a request, my lady, you can ask for one thing!" Wallander replied, with an empathetic smile on his face. what!How tactfully and how clearly Woland emphasized the three words "one thing" that Margaret herself had said! Marguerite sighed again, and said: "I hope they don't bring the handkerchief that Frieda used to suffocate their own children to her in the future." The black cat looked up at the sky and sighed deeply.It didn't say anything, though, clearly remembering the twisting of its ears at the party.At this moment, Woland smiled wryly, and said to Margaret: "Of course, the possibility of you accepting bribes from the stupid woman Frieda can be completely ruled out, because that is completely incompatible with your queen's dignity. In view of this situation, I simply don't know what to do. It seems that there is only one way — get some more rags and plug all the gaps in my bedroom!" "What are you talking about, my lord?" asked Marguerite.Wallander's words were indeed incomprehensible. "I totally agree with you, my lord!" the black cat interrupted again, "it must be blocked with rags." The black cat angrily knocked its paw on the table vigorously. "I'm talking about compassion," Woland said, gazing at Margaret with that shining eye, explaining what he had just said. Come to me. So I say plug all the gaps with rags." "That's what I'm talking about!" cried the black cat happily, avoiding Margaret and covering its pointed ears with its pink ointment paws just in case. "Go away!" Wallander said to the black cat. "How can I go without my coffee? My lord," replied the black cat, "is it necessary to divide the guests into two classes at the feast on this festive night? A kind of fresh food that guests eat first class, The other kind of customer who has to eat 'second-rate freshness', as the sad, penny-pinching restaurateur puts it?" "Shut up!" ordered Woland, and then he turned to Margaret and asked: "You are, by all accounts, a very kind man, are you not? A man of high morals, aren't you?" "No," replied Marguerite firmly and clearly, "I know that it is necessary to be very frank with you. So I tell you frankly: I am very rash. I plead with you on Frieda's behalf only because I have A moment of inadvertence gave her a firm hope. She waits now, my lord, she believes in my power. If I fail her hope, I shall be in a dreadful state, and I shall never live in peace. The matter has come to this, there is really no other way!" "Oh, that makes sense," Wallander said. "Can you do that, then?" asked Marguerite softly. "Absolutely not," Wallander replied, "that's what happened, my dear Queen, there was a little confusion. Each government office should do its own thing. We have a lot of power indeed, far more powerful than the I don't want to argue with you that short-sighted people estimate much more..." "Of course it's much bigger!" The black cat couldn't help interjecting again, it seemed that it was very proud of Wallander's power. "To hell with you, shut up!" Woland reprimanded the black cat, and then went on to Margaret, "but, as I said, why should I do things that should be under the jurisdiction of other government offices?" Do it? So, I won't do it. You can do it yourself." "Can my words come true?" Azazeller gave Marguerite a mocking look with his squinting eyes, shook his brown-red haired head secretly, and gave a slight snort in his nose. "Just go ahead and do yours, it's a lot of work!" Woland muttered, then turned the globe and carefully observed a small part of it, as if he was talking to Margaret and at the same time Work on another thing. "Here, Frieda," Karloviev reminded. "Frieda!" Margaret also screamed. I saw the door of the room opened suddenly, and a woman with disheveled hair, naked but not in a state of drunkenness broke into the room.With wild eyes she stared, she stretched out her hands and walked towards Marguerite, who said to her commandingly: "I forgive you! I won't give you a handkerchief again!" Frieda wailed, prostrated herself in front of Margaret, and then spread her arms and legs.With a wave of Wallander's hand, she disappeared without a trace. "Thank you! I'll take my leave now, farewell!" said Marguerite, standing up. "Hey, I say, Hippopotamus," Wallander said, "an occasional inadvertence on a festival night by an inexperienced lady, and I think we'd better not take advantage of it!" Then he turned to Margaery Te said, "That's right, what happened just now doesn't count, because I didn't do anything for you myself. What do you want for yourself?" The room fell silent for a while, and in the silence, Karloviev whispered to Margaret: "My dear lady, I advise you to be more rational and sober this time! Otherwise, Fortuna may slip away!" ① Fortuna, the goddess of happiness, good luck and success in ancient Roman mythology.She often appears in the image of standing on a spinning wheel or a ball with her eyes blindfolded, which is a metaphor that when an opportunity confronts you, you should seize it in time. "I wish now, immediately, to return my mistress, the master," said Marguerite, her face convulsed and convulsed. As soon as Margaret finished speaking, a gust of wind blew, and the candlelight on the candelabra in the room fell down one after another. The heavy curtains were pulled aside, and the two windows were opened; A full moon, but it's not an early morning moon, it's still a midnight moon.A green moonlight scarf fell from the window sill to the floor, and there was a person standing in the middle of the scarf.This person was none other than the self-proclaimed Master who visited Ivan the Homeless at night.He was still dressed like a hospital patient—wearing a long smock, a pair of sandals on his feet, and his small black cap that he always wore on his head; his unshaven face was full of panic, and his facial muscles twitched uncontrollably. Eyes frantically scanned the candlelight in the room.Mercury moonlight rippled around him. Margaret recognized the master immediately.She groaned, clapped her hands up, and ran towards him.She kissed his forehead and lips, and pressed her face tightly against his unshaven face. The tears that she had endured for a long time flowed down her cheeks like a spring, and she just said one word unconsciously: "you you you……" The master gently pushed her away and said in a hoarse voice: "Don't cry, Margot, don't torture me, I'm very sick," he shouted suddenly, putting one hand on the window sill as if he wanted to jump out of the window, baring his teeth, and staring at the people sitting in the room. : "I'm scared, Margot! I'm hallucinating again." Marguerite wept bitterly, suffocating her breath, and murmured intermittently: "No, no, don't be afraid, don't be afraid of anything! I'm by your side! I'm by your side!" The clever Karloviev unconsciously pushed a chair beside the master, and the master sat on the chair.Margaret fell to her knees, her head pressed against the patient's waist.She quieted down.Due to being too excited, she didn't notice that she had put on a black satin cape at some point.The patient lowered his head and began to stare down into the ground with sad and restless eyes. "Yes," Woland said after a moment of silence, "clean him up." Woland ordered Karloviev: "Righteous man, bring this man something to drink!" Karlovie did so immediately. . Margarita implored the Master in a trembling voice: "Drink it, drink it! Are you still afraid? No, don't be afraid. Believe me, these people will help you." The sick man took the glass and drank it down, but his hand trembled, and the empty glass fell to his feet and shattered. "It's a good sign! A good sign!" Karloviev whispered to Margaret. "Look, he's come to his senses." Indeed, the patient's eyes were no longer so strange, no longer so anxious. "What, it's you, Margo?" asked the guest in the moonlight. "Don't doubt it, it's me." Margaret replied. "Give him another drink!" Wallander ordered. After drinking the second cup, the master's eyes became rational and energetic. "Well, you see, this is very different," said Wallander, squinting at the master. "Now let's talk! Who are you?" "I'm nobody now." The master replied with a wry smile on the corner of his mouth. "Where are you from?" "From the madhouse. I'm mentally ill," replied the visitor. Marguerite could not bear the excitement of these words, and began to cry again.After crying for a while, she wiped away her tears and cried: "These words are terrible! Terrible! My lord, I tell you, he is a master. Cure him, he is worthy of you." "Do you know who you are talking to now? Do you know where you are?" Woland asked the moonlighter. "Yes," replied the master, "I happened to live next door to that boy, Ivan the Homeless, in the asylum. He spoke to me about you." "No, no," Woland said at once, "I had the pleasure of meeting this young man at Patriarch's Lake. He almost drove me crazy too, because he insisted on proving that I don't exist! But, this is indeed me, you will always believe it, right?" "I can't help but believe it," said the visitor, "but, of course, if you are regarded as the product of some kind of hallucination, it may be much calmer. Oh, please forgive me." The master suddenly realized his slip of the tongue, hurriedly Apologies said. "Well, what can you do? Since it can be much calmer, you can take care of it that way." Woland replied politely. "No, no," Margaret said, shaking the master's shoulder in surprise, "be sober! He is indeed right in front of your eyes!" Then the black cat interjected again: "I really look like a product of hallucinations. Take a closer look at my silhouette in the moonlight." The black cat walked into the beam of moonlight.It was about to continue talking when it was ordered not to interrupt, so it said, "Well, well, I don't have to talk. I'll just be a silent phantom." It moved away and said nothing more. "Please tell me why Marguerite called you master?" Woland asked. The guest smiled sadly and replied: "Her weakness is justifiable. She overestimated the novel I wrote." "What is your novel about?" "Wrote Pontius Pilate." At this time, the candlelight in the room began to flicker and dance, and the tableware on the table jingled. It turned out that Woland was laughing loudly like thunder.But no one was frightened, no one was surprised by the laughter.The hippopotamus clapped its "hands" for some reason. "About what? What? About whom?" asked Wallander, stopping his laughter. "You still write such novels? It's surprising! You have nothing else to write about? Show me that." Look!" Wallander demanded, holding out his hand. "I, unfortunately, cannot show you," replied the master, "I have already thrown it into the fireplace and burned it." "I'm sorry, but I don't believe that," Wallander said. "It's impossible. The manuscript is indestructible." Turning to the black cat, he said, "Hey, Hippo, go get that novel!" ①In the "Bible", "a bush that cannot be destroyed by fire" means: something that exists forever and cannot be destroyed. The black cat immediately jumped down from the seat, and only then did everyone see clearly: it turned out that it was sitting on a large stack of manuscripts.It held the top one to Wallander and bowed.Marguerite was so excited that tears filled her eyes and she trembled all over.She cried out: "That's it, that's the original! That's it!" She rushed up to Woland, and added ecstatically: "Your magic power is boundless, omnipotent!" Wallander took the manuscript that was handed to him, turned it over, put it aside, and then stared silently and without a smile in the face of the master.At this time, the master fell into sadness and anxiety again for some reason. He stood up, rubbed his hands, looked at the bright moon hanging high in the sky outside the window, trembling all over, and murmured: "Even in the middle of the night, even in this moonlight, I have no peace. Why do you disturb me again? O gods, gods!..."① ①These two sentences are the inner monologue of Pilate, who was in great pain after the death sentence of Yeshua was sentenced.It shows that Woland called Pilate again at this moment, and thus also learned the whole picture of the master's work. Marguerite grabbed the master's gown and pressed her head against him, weeping mournfully and saying: "God, why didn't the medicine just work for you?" "It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter," Karloviev whispered, stretching beside the master, "it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter... Let's have another small glass! This time I will work with you." The small wine glass seemed to blink and swayed in the moonlight.This glass of wine really did the trick.The master sat down on the chair again, with a much more serene expression. "Well, that makes it all clear," said Wallander, tapping the manuscript with his long fingers. "It's completely clear!" The black cat forgot to promise to be a silent phantom just now, and interrupted again. "The main line of this work is clear to me now. What are you talking about, Azazeller?" It asked Azazeller who had been silent. "I'm saying, it's better to throw you into the river and drown!" Azazeller said in a low voice. "Azazelle, be kind," the black cat said to him, "don't let our lord have such thoughts. Tell you, otherwise I will come to you every night in the moonlight like the poor master, yes You nodded and waved to you to let you follow me. Here, Azazelle, what will happen to you then?" "Hey, Margaret," Wallander went on, "tell me what you want?" Marguerite's eyes sparkled with hope, and she begged Woland: "Will you allow me to consult him in private?" Wallander nodded.So Marguerite moved closer to the master and whispered to him.I only heard the master answering to her: "No, it's too late. I don't want anything else in this life. Just to see you. But I advise you to leave me. Stay with me and you'll be ruined." "No, I will not leave you!" Marguerite replied.Then she said to Wallander: "I beg that we should go back to the basement in the alley on the Arbat Street, and that the little lamp should be turned on, and everything should be as it was." Hearing what Margaret said, the master couldn't help laughing.He put his arm around her long-loosed curls, and said to Woland: "Oh, my lord, don't listen to this poor woman. The basement has long been occupied, and besides, it is impossible to restore everything to the original state." He pressed his face close to the head of the woman he loved, and hugged her. Looking at her, she murmured: "My poor woman, poor woman..." "You say it's impossible?" said Wallander. "That's true. But let's try." He said, "Azazelle!" As soon as the words fell, a man fell from the ceiling immediately.The man was wearing only a pair of underwear and looked panicked, bordering on insanity.For some reason he was still carrying a suitcase and wearing a cap.His knees were weak, and his whole body was shaking like chaff. "Your name is Mogarich?" Azazeller asked the fallen man. "Yes, I'm Aloyj Mogaritch." The man replied timidly. "Latunsky wrote an article criticizing this man's novel. After you read that article, you wrote an informant letter, saying that this man had hidden illegal books in his home. Isn't that right?" Azazeller asked again. The person who fell was so frightened that his face turned blue, and he wept bitterly to express his repentance. "You just want to occupy his two basements, right?" Azazeller asked in the gentlest tone possible. There was an angry meowing sound in the room, and Margaret rushed towards the man screaming: "Show me how powerful I am a witch! Just look!" Margarita yelled and scratched Aloigi Mogaritch's face with her nails. There was confusion. “你这是干什么，玛格？”大师痛苦地喊道，“有失身份啊！” “我抗议！这有什么失身份的？！”黑猫在一旁喊叫。 卡罗维夫把玛格丽特拉开。 “可我还安装了澡盆呢，”满脸流血的莫加雷奇吓得上牙直打下牙，胡言乱语地说，“我粉刷过一遍……用了白矾……” “嗯，你安装了澡盆，很好嘛！”阿扎泽勒表示赞许，“他也需要洗洗澡啊，”然后便大喊一声：“滚吧！” 只见莫加雷奇翻了个跟头，两脚飘起，头朝下从敞开的窗户飞出了沃兰德的卧室。 大师看得直眉瞪眼，自言自语地小声嘟哝说： “哎呀，看来，这可比伊万讲的那些还要精彩！”非常震惊的大师回头张望了一下，对黑猫说：“对不起……你就是……您就是……”他完全慌了神，不知道对猫应该怎么称呼，称“你”还是“您”，“您就是那只跳上有轨电车的猫吧？” “是我，”黑猫得意洋洋地承认，然后又说：“您对猫还这么客气地称呼，我很高兴。不知为什么人们对猫讲话都用'你'，虽说从来没有哪只猫跟人喝过结拜酒①。” ①喝结拜酒，由德语“兄弟”一词而来，指两人同时喝杯中的酒，然后互相亲吻，从此以后彼此便亲昵地以“你”相称，不再称“您”。 “不知怎么，我总觉得您不大像猫。”大师含糊其辞地说。然后又怯声对沃兰德说，“不管怎样，医院里也会发现缺了我这个病人。” “嗨，他们能发现什么！”卡罗维夫安慰说，只见他的手里忽地出现了一摞纸和本子，“这就是您的病历吧？” “是的。”大师回答。 卡罗维夫一甩手把病历全都扔进了壁炉。 “没有了证件，人也就不存在了，”卡罗维夫满意地说，“您再看看这个，是你们租的那所房子的住户户口簿吧？” "yes." “这里填的是谁的名字？阿洛伊吉·莫加雷奇？”卡罗维夫往户口簿上一吹，写着莫加雷奇的那一页便不见了，“这不，没有他了。而且，请注意：压根儿就没有过这么个人！如果房东表示奇怪，您就告诉他：阿洛伊吉不过是他做梦梦见的。莫加雷奇？哪儿来的莫加雷奇？压根儿没有过这么个人！”说话间一个好好的户口簿便从卡罗维夫手中消失了。于是，卡罗维夫说：“看，户口簿已经回到房产主的写字台抽屉里去了。” “您说得对，”深为卡罗维夫的利索手脚感到震惊的大师说，“没有了证件，人也就不存在了。因此，我也不存在了，因为我也没有证件呀。” “很抱歉，”卡罗维夫大声说，“这才是您的幻觉呢！给您，这不是您的证件吗！”卡罗维夫把一份证件交给大师，然后闭上了眼，甜丝丝地对玛格丽特说：“这些都是您的财产，玛格丽特·尼古拉耶夫娜！”他把一个四周烧焦了的笔记本、一朵干玫瑰花和一张照片递给玛格丽特，又特别郑重其事地把一个存折交给她说：“这是您存入的那一万卢布，玛格丽特·尼占拉耶夫娜。我们不要别人的财物。” “我宁愿让自己的爪子干瘪，也不去动别人的财物！”黑猫傲慢地人声说。它为了把那部不幸的小说原槁全塞进皮箱，正站在箱子上用脚使劲往下踩。 “这是您的证件，也给您。”卡罗维夫把玛格丽特的证件也交给她。随后便恭恭敬敬地报告沃兰德：“全办完了，主公！” “不，还没有完，”沃兰德不再看地球仪了，转过脸来说，“我尊贵的女士，您要我们如何处置您那两个随从呢？我这里可用不着他们。” 这时娜塔莎从门外跑了进来，仍然一丝不挂。她双手一拍，对玛格丽特喊道： “祝您幸福，玛格丽特·尼古拉耶夫娜！”她冲着大师点了点头，又对玛格丽特说：“您从前经常往哪儿去，我本来就全知道。” “女佣人们总是什么事都知道的，”黑猫意味深长地举起一只爪子议论道，“以为佣人们都是瞎子，那才是大错而特错哪。” “娜塔莎，你希望干什么？”玛格丽特问道，“还是回那所独院儿的小楼上去吧。” “亲爱的玛格丽特·尼古拉耶夫娜，”娜塔莎双膝脆地哀求说，“您替我向主公求求情，”她说着朝沃兰德看了一眼，“把我留下来当个魔女吧。我再也不想回那所独院去！我既不嫁工程师，也不嫁技术员！昨天，在晚会上，札克先生①向我提出了求婚。”娜塔莎松开拳头，把手里的几个金币给玛格丽特看。 ①此人与第二十三章中所提到的札克同名。原文如此。 玛格丽特用疑问的目光看了看沃兰德。沃兰德点点头。于是娜塔莎跑上去搂住玛格丽特的脖子，响亮地亲了她一下，得胜似地高喊一声，从窗口飞了出去。 娜塔莎原来站的地方，现在站着尼古拉·伊万诺维奇。他已经恢复人的面目，但看上去忧心冲忡，甚至可以说激动不安。 “这个人我非常乐意放他走，”沃兰德以厌恶的目光看着尼古拉·伊万诺维奇说，“非常乐意，他在这里毫无用处。” “我恳请您为我出具一张证明，”尼古拉·伊万诺维奇不安地四下张望着说，语气十分固执，“证明这一夜我是在什么地方度过的。” “证明的用途是什么？”黑猫厉声问道。 “为了向民警局和我的夫人交代。”尼古拉·伊万诺维奇毫不含糊地说。 “我们这里通常是不开证明的，”黑猫皱着眉头说，“不过，为了您的方便，算啦，破个例吧。” 尼古拉·伊万诺维奇还没有回味过这话的意思，裸体的赫勒已经坐到打字机旁。黑猫向她口授： “证明。兹证明持本证者，尼古拉·伊万诺维奇，确曾在今夜作为运输工具……赫勒，你在这个地方打个括号，括号内打上'骟猪'两个字，被带来参加撒旦举办的跳舞晚会。签名：河马。” “日期呢？”尼古拉·伊万诺维奇尖声问道。 “我们不写日期。写上日期证件就无效了。”黑猫回答说，然后把手中的证件一晃，空中便飞来一个图章。黑猫一本正经地往图章上哈了哈气，往纸上盖了个“印花收讫”的章，把证件交给了尼古拉·伊万诺维奇。尼古拉·伊万诺维奇消失了，他的位置上又出现一个完全陌生的人。 “这又是什么人？”沃兰德用手挡住晃眼的烛光，不耐烦地问道。 瓦列奴哈低下头，叹了口气，轻声说： “请放我回去吧。我不能当吸血鬼。要知道，当时我和赫勒差一点儿没把里姆斯基吓死！我不喜欢吸人血。放了我吧。” “他在说什么梦话？”沃兰德皱着眉头问，“里姆斯基又是什么人？他都胡说些什么？” “这您就别操心了，主公。”阿扎泽勒对沃兰德说。然后对瓦列奴哈说：“往后不许在电话里蛮横无礼地讲下流话！不许撒谎！明白吗？今后你不再这么干了吧？” 瓦列奴哈欣喜若狂，精神焕发，不知如何是好，只是前言不搭后语地嘟哝说： “我衷心……也就是说，我是想说，您阁下……我吃过午饭马上就……”瓦列奴哈哀求似地双手交叉着捂着胸膛，眼巴巴地望着阿扎泽勒。 “行啊，回家去吧。”阿扎泽勒回答说。 瓦列奴哈随即消融在空气中。 “请你们让我单独同他们俩呆一会儿吧。”沃兰德指着大师和玛格丽特对左右人说。 沃兰德的命令立即得到执行。沉默片刻后，他对大师说： “嗯，这么说，回阿尔巴特大街的地下室去？那么，今后谁来写作呢？幻想呢？灵感呢？” “我再没有任何幻想了，”大师回答说，“也失去了灵感。除了她，”大师把手放到玛格丽特头上，“周围的一切都不再引起我的兴趣。他们把我毁了。我感到寂寞乏味。我想回地下室去。” “那么您的小说呢？彼拉多呢？” “我恨它，我讨厌那部小说。为了它，我遭受的磨难太多了。” “我求求你，别这么说。”玛格丽特哀求说，“你为什么折磨我呢？你知道，我把整个生命都献给你这项工作了。”她又对沃兰德说，“主公，您别听他说，他是遭受的磨难过多了。” “那也总得写点什么吧？”沃兰德对大师说，“如果觉得犹太总督这个题材已经枯竭，您就开始写……哪怕写阿洛伊吉也好嘛。” 大师微微一笑，说： “写这些，拉普雄尼科娃不会同意出版的，况且，这些东西也没有意思。” “那您靠什么维持生活呢？那就得过缺衣少食的日子了。” “心甘情愿，心甘情愿。”大师回答说。他把玛格丽特拉到身旁，搂住她的肩膀接着说，“她会清醒过来的，会离开我……” “我看未必……”沃兰德含糊不清地嘟哝一句，然后又继续大声说，“好吧。这么说，撰写过本丢·彼拉多历史的人现在要回到地下室去，要在那里守着孤灯，安于贫困喽？” 玛格丽特离开大师，急切地向沃兰德解释说： “我已经尽了最大的努力，我对他悄悄说了许多极为令人神往的事，可他拒绝这一切。” “你们的耳语我都知道，”沃兰德对她说，“那还不是最令人神往的。不过，我要告诉您，”沃兰德对大师说，“您那部小说还会给您带来意外的礼物的。” “那就太可悲了。”大师回答。 “不，不，并不可悲。”沃兰德说，“再不会发生什么可怕的事了。喏，好吧，玛格丽特·已占拉耶夫娜，一切都办妥了。您对我有什么意见吗？” “哪里的话，噢，哪里的话，主公！” “那么，您把这个拿去，作个纪念吧。”沃兰德说着，从枕下掏出一个不大的马掌形金器，上面镶满了钻石。 “不，不，主公，您何必这样！” “难道您想同我争论？”沃兰德莞尔一笑，问道。 玛格丽特的披风上没有口袋，她只好用一块餐巾把金马掌包了起来。忽然，她觉得心里一惊，回头看了看窗外：窗外一轮明月分外皎洁。于是她问道： “有一件事我不明白……怎么这里总是午夜时分？过了这许久还是午夜，按理该是早晨了？” “节日的午夜嘛，稍许挽留一刻岂不是件乐事？！”沃兰德回答说，“喏，好吧，祝你们幸福！” 玛格丽特祈祷似地向沃兰德伸出双手，但并没有敢朝他走近，只是激动地轻声说： “别了！别了！” “再会！”沃兰德说。 于是玛格丽特披着黑披风，大师穿着医院患者的长衫，退出沃兰德的卧室，来到这所珠宝商遗编故居的走廊上。走廊里点着一枝蜡烛，沃兰德的随从正在这里等候他们。离开走廊时，赫勒提起装有小说原稿和玛格丽特那笔小小的财产的手提箱，黑猫也从旁帮着她。走到门口，卡罗维夫施礼道别，随即消失在门内。其他人则护送他们下楼。楼梯上一个人也没有。下到三楼转弯处的平台时，他们听到一个沉闷的响声，但谁也没有去理会它。快下到大门口时，阿扎泽勒朝空中吹了一口气。刚一跨入没有月光的院子，就发现台阶上睡着一个穿着高筒靴、头戴鸭舌帽的人，睡得像死人一样。门旁停着一辆熄了前灯的黑色大轿车。透过车前的玻璃，模糊地看到一个白嘴鸦的头影。 大家正准备上车，玛格丽特忽然绝望地轻轻喊了一声： “天哪，我的金马掌丢了！” “你们先上车，”阿扎泽勒说，“在车上等着我。我去去就来，看看是怎么回事。”阿扎泽勒又走进了大门。 事情原来是这样的： 在玛格丽特和大师等人从珠宝商遗孀的故居出来之前，这家楼下的第48号住宅里曾出来过一个干瘦的女人，一手提着圆铁桶，另一只手拎着个提包，准备下楼去。她不是别人，正是星期三在公园转门旁碰碎葵花子油瓶使柏辽兹大倒其霉的那个安奴什卡。 这女人在莫斯科究竟干些什么？她靠什么维持生活？谁都不知道，或许永远也无人知晓。众所周知的只有一点：每天都可以在石油商店、菜市场、本楼的大门洞或楼梯上见到她，手里提着个圆铁桶或拎个手提包，有时两样都提着；最常见到她的地方是她住的那套第48号的厨房。此外，大家还清楚两点：一是这女人出现在哪儿，哪儿便立即生出乱子来；二是她的外号叫“瘟神”。 不知为什么“瘟神”安奴什卡平素总是起得很早，今天尤其早得出奇，深更半夜就起来了。刚刚打过十二点，第48号的大门锁转动了一下，先是安奴什卡的鼻子探出门外，随后整个身子都钻了出来，身后的门关上了。她正要下楼去干点什么，只听得楼上50号的大门“砰”的一声响，接着便有个男人从楼梯上滚下来。那人撞在安奴什卡身上，把她撞到一旁，她的后脑勺碰到了墙上。 “该死的，光穿条衬裤，往哪儿瞎闯？”安奴什卡抱住后脑勺尖声叫骂。那个只穿内裤的人拎着个手提箱，戴着鸭舌帽，紧闭着双眼，说梦话似地怪声怪气地对安奴什卡说： “温水速热器！用了白矾！单单粉刷就用了好多钱啊！”他哭起来了。然后高叫一声：“滚吧！”可他并不顺着楼梯往下跑，而是往上跑去，跑到转弯处那扇被基辅经济学家踢坏的玻璃窗前，便大头朝下从窗里飞了出去。安奴什卡忘了后脑勺痛，哎哟一声，急忙冲到窗前，趴在窗边，探出头去，指望在路灯灯光下看到院里水泥地上摔死的人和他的手提箱。但是，地上却什么也没有。 安奴什卡只能设想：那个没睡醒的怪人像鸟儿似地从楼里飞出去，飞得无影无踪了。她画了个十字，心里暗想：“嘿！50号那家可真有意思！看来人们还真不是瞎说呀！瞧这套房子！” 她刚想到这儿，楼上的大门“砰”地又响了一声，又有一个人跑下楼来。安奴什卡急忙把身子紧贴在墙上。她看到：下来的是一位蓄着胡子、神态相当庄重的公民，只是脸有点像猪。那人从她身旁溜过去，同刚才那个人一样，从破窗户里飞出了大楼，似乎想也没想到自己会摔死在水泥地上。安奴什卡早已忘记了自己出门的目的，她呆呆地站在楼梯口，只顾不住地画着十字，唉声叹气，自言自语。 过了不大一会儿，又跑下来一个人，这是个没留胡子的圆脸汉子，穿一件肥大的托尔斯泰衫。他也重复前两人的动作，从窗里飞了出去。 安奴什卡的为人有一点是令人佩服的：什么事她都想知道个究竟。所以她决定再等一等，看看是否还会出现什么新的奇迹。果然，不多时，楼上的大门又开了。听声音，这一次出来的像一群人，但这些人不是跑下来，而是和常人一样一磴磴地走下来的。安奴什卡离开窗户，跑回楼下自家门口，打开门，迅速闪了进去。但她把门留下了一个小小的缝儿，她的一只被好奇心撩得发狂的眼睛在门缝里闪闪发亮。 一个似病非病、模样奇特、脸色苍白、胡子拉碴的人，头戴黑色小帽，身穿长衫，迈着不大自信的蹒跚步子走下楼来，旁边还有位夫人小心翼翼地搀扶着他。在昏暗中，安奴什卡觉得那夫人好像穿着一件很长的黑色僧袍，赤着脚，或许就是穿着某种带小条的透明鞋，显然是进口货。哟，呸！哪里是穿着什么进口鞋呀！她全身都赤条条的嘛！对呀，她是光身子披着一件长僧袍！“瞧这套房子！”但安奴什卡心里却也在暗自庆幸：她已经预感到明天向邻居们描述此事时的得意心情了。 跟在这位装束奇特的夫人身后的，是个赤条条的女人，拎着个手提箱，还有一只大黑猫在提箱旁转来转去。安奴什卡用手擦了擦眼，险些没有喊出声来。 走在最后的是个矮个子外国人，有些病，一只眼睛斜视，穿着白色燕尾服背心，系着领带，没有穿上衣。安奴什卡眼看着这群人下楼去了。这时她听到楼梯口什么东西响了一下。等到脚步声静下来，她便毒蛇似地溜出门外，把圆铁桶放在墙边，趴在地上摸起来。她终于摸到了餐巾包着的那件沉重的东西。打开小包一看，她惊得目瞪口呆。安奴什卡又把那宝物举到眼前仔细看了看，两眼射出贪婪的火光。她的头脑里掀起了风暴，她在想：“对，一问三不知，神仙怪不得！我给他个什么也不知道！……去跟我外甥商量商量吧？要不就把它锯成小块……宝石可以抠出来……一颗一颗地卖：到彼得罗夫卡市场去卖一颗，再到斯摩棱斯基去卖它一颗……反正一问三不知，我什么也不知道！” 安奴什卡把拾到的东西揣在怀里，拿起圆铁桶，决定今天不去市内漫游了。她拿定主意，正要躲进门里，那个没穿上衣的白胸脯外国人猛然站到了她的眼前，鬼才知道他是从什么地方突然出现的。只听那人轻声对她说： “把马掌和餐巾给我！” “什么餐巾马掌的？”安奴什卡问道，她表演得很成功，“我不知道什么餐巾不餐巾的。您这个人，喝醉了，还是怎么？” 白胸脯的人不再跟她费唇舌。他用公共汽车扶手一般坚硬冰冷的手指掐住了安奴什卡的脖子，完全断了空气进入她肺部的通路。圆铁桶从她手里掉了下来。没穿上衣的外国人这样掐着她呆了一会儿，然后才把手松开。安奴什卡大喘了几口气，赔着笑脸说： “啊，您说那个马掌呀！我这就给您！原来是您的？刚才我一看，餐巾里包着这个……我就有意地替您收起来了，免得让别人拾去。要不，上哪儿去找呀！” 外国人接过餐巾和金马掌，立即并足向安奴什卡行礼致敬，紧紧问她握手，并且用外国腔十足的俄语向她表示感谢： “我由衷地向您致以深深的谢意，女士。这小马掌是纪念品，我非常珍惜。您替我保存了，请允许我送给您二百卢布。”他说着，便从背心口袋里掏出钱来交到安奴什卡手里。 安奴什卡咧开嘴笑着，一个劲儿地大喊： “啊，太谢谢您啦！麦尔西！麦尔西！” 慷慨的外国人神速地滑过各层楼梯，一直滑到了楼下。在完全消失之前，他并没有忘记从下面冲楼上喊两句话，不过此时他的口音又不带外国腔了。只听他喊道： “我说，你这个老妖婆！往后再捡到别人的东西得交到民警局去，别往自己怀里揣！” 楼道里出现的这些怪事闹得安奴什卡心里乱糟糟的，脑袋里嗡嗡响。她嘴里还在不自觉地喊着：“麦尔西！麦尔西！麦尔西！”岂知这时外国人早已踪影全无，院里的汽车也不见了。 阿扎泽勒下楼后，把沃兰德的礼物还给玛格丽特，向她施礼告辞，并问她乘这辆车是否方便。赫勒走过来同玛格丽特热烈吻别，黑猫吻了吻她的手。送行的人们向坐在角落里木然不动的大师挥了挥手，又向白嘴鸦挥挥手，便很快融化在空气中了——他们当然没有必要一层层地爬楼梯。白嘴鸦打开前灯，车子经过死人般沉睡的人身旁，开出大门洞。转瞬间，黑色大轿车的灯光便消失在喧闹的、彻夜不眠的花园大街的万家灯火中了。 一小时后，在阿尔巴特大街附近那条小巷里，在那座不大的楼房地下室第一个房间，我们看到玛格丽特坐在桌旁哭泣，她正为自己所受的震动和所体验的幸福而独自流泪。这间屋里的一切，仍然保持着去年深秋那个可怕的夜晚之前的样子：桌上铺着天鹅绒台布，放着一盏有灯罩的台灯。她面前是一本被火烧得不成样子的笔记本，旁边堆着一大摞保存完好的原稿。小楼里没有一点声音。大师已在旁边小房间的长沙发上沉沉入睡了，身上还盖着那件医院里的罩衫。他的呼吸是均匀的，一点声音也没有。 玛格丽特哭过一阵，拿起那些保存完好的本子，翻到了她在克里姆林宫墙脚下遇见阿扎泽勒之前反复背诵的那一节。她现在一点也没有睡意。她温存地抚摸着原稿，像在抚摸自己心爱的小猫；她拿起原稿，翻来覆去地看，一会儿看看扉页，一会儿又翻开最后一页。忽然，她产生了一个可怕的念头，觉得这一切都是魔法唤出的幻象，眼前的一本本原稿马上会消失，她还将住进那座独院儿的小楼，呆在楼上的卧室里，醒来后她还要去跳河。然而，这个可怕的念头已是最后一次闪现了。它只不过是过去的苦难遭遇的余波。什么都没有消失，法力无边的沃兰德的确无所不能。现在玛格丽特完全可以尽情翻阅这些原稿，仔细地观察它，亲吻它，阅读它，读多少遍都可以，哪怕一直读到黎明。她确实也在反复地读着： “黑暗，地中海方向袭来的黑暗已经完全笼罩住这座为总督所憎恶的城市……是的，黑暗……”