Chapter 12 Part three four

Four Mathias opened his eyes.He is lying on his back on the bed.In the daze of just waking up, he felt that the bright (and dim) window, which had been to his left, was beginning to move across the room, not fast nor slow, not violent, but unstoppable, like a deliberate river , appeared one after another on the chair at the end of the bed, on the wardrobe, on the second wardrobe, on the dressing table, and on the two side-by-side chairs.At last it came to a halt, just to the right of Mathias - where it had been yesterday - still four identical panes of glass separated by a black cross window frame.

It was broad daylight.Mathias did very well in IELTS, and slept until dawn without moving.He felt rested enough and calmed down.He turned to look out the window. It's raining outside.He suddenly remembered that in the dream it was a sunny day, and this thought only passed through his mind for a second, and then disappeared immediately. It's raining outside.The four panes of glass were splashed by very fine and bright raindrops, and the raindrops turned into oblique lines about one or two centimeters long—parallel oblique lines—spreading across the entire window in the direction of a diagonal line of the window.The almost imperceptible sound of raindrops hitting the glass can be heard.

The slashes of rain are getting tighter and tighter.Soon, the raindrops melted together, disrupting the orderly picture.When Mathias turned his head to look this way, the heavy rain had already started.Now there are big raindrops everywhere, running down the glass from top to bottom. Lines of rain flow across the entire picture, with a fixed direction, slightly curved, roughly vertical lines, and regular distances between them—about one and a half centimeters. These vertical lines then fade away into dots that have neither direction nor flow—large drops of frozen water, generally distributed fairly evenly across the window.Careful observation reveals that all these water spots have different shapes—although they are not fixed—only one characteristic is fixed: they are all raised and round at the bottom, and they are all dark and colorless. , with a bright spot in the middle.

At this time, Mathias noticed that the electric lamp hanging from the ceiling (in the middle of the room, that is, between the window and the bed) emitted yellow light, and the lampshade was made of frosted glass with a wavy edge. He got up, went to the door, and flipped the chrome light switch mounted on the doorjamb.The lights went out.So, to turn off the light, one should climb down the smooth metal ball—what a logical way, Mathias should have thought of it last night.He looked at the floor, then at the petrol lamp on the pedestal. His bare feet felt cold on the paved floor.He was about to get back on the bed when he turned around again, went to the window, and bent over the table embedded in the hole in the wall.The water droplets scattered on the windowpane prevented him from seeing what was outside the window.He opened the window even though he was only wearing a pajamas.

It's not cold.It was still raining, but very lightly; there was no wind.The whole sky was gray. The sudden gust of wind that had thrown rain on the panes a few minutes before had vanished without a trace.The weather is very calm now.There was a continuous drizzle, and although the horizon was covered by the rain, the scenery at close range was still clearly visible.It may be said that in the rain-washed air, nearer objects were given a patina--especially those of paler colors, such as those coming from the southeast (where the hanging rocks gradually plunge into the sea) That's what happened to the seagull.It was already flying very slowly, and now it seemed to be slowing down because it was flying low.

After the seagull almost circled on the opposite side of the window, it slowly rose upwards.But then it fell to the ground again, not flapping its wings, but falling slowly and confidently in a great spiral circle. It didn't perch, but just changed the angle of the wings slightly, and then rose back up without any difficulty.It made another circle, as if searching for prey, or a place to roost—twenty meters away from the house.Then it flapped its wings a few times, rose into the air again, and made a final circle before heading for the port. Mathias returned to the bed and began to dress.After a brief wash, he put on the rest of his clothes—the jacket, the shorts, because it was raining outside.Mechanically he thrust his hands into his pockets.But he immediately stretched out his right hand.

He went to the large wardrobe between the two chairs and the desk by the corner window.Both doors of the wardrobe were tightly closed.The key was not in the lock.With a swipe of his fingertips, he opened a cabinet door.The wardrobe was not locked.He opened the cabinet door wide.It was empty inside.Not a coat-hanger or a little cord was to be found among the neatly spaced drawers. The desk to the right of the wardrobe was also unlocked.Mathias put down the table, opened many drawers one by one, and checked the pigeonhole-like grid, but there was nothing inside. The same was true of the chest of drawers on the other side of the door, which opened its five large drawers without difficulty.There were no handles on the outside of the drawer, only an overgrown keyhole—the lock had been removed—and Mathias inserted the tip of his little finger into the keyhole, pressed it as hard as he could against the wood, and pulled the drawer open.But the whole chest of drawers was empty from top to bottom, not a single sheet of paper, an old carton lid, or a strand of string.

There was his watch on the small round table next to him, and he picked it up and put it on his left wrist.The time is nine o'clock. He crossed the room to the square table built into the window sill on which his memos lay.He opened the Thursday page, picked up a pencil, and carefully added the words "was up at nine" after the words "slept well"--though he didn't usually record such details. Then he leaned down, picked up the small box under the table, and put the black memo in it.After thinking for a while, he walked over and put the small box into the empty large wardrobe, and put it in the right corner of the bottom shelf.

After closing the cupboard door—he pushed it harder to make it close a little tighter—he mechanically thrust his hands into the short pockets.The right hand touched the bag of candy and the box of cigarettes again.Mathias took out a cigarette and smoked it. He took his wallet from the inside pocket of his coat, and from it took out a small newspaper clipping; it was a little longer than the rest of the paper.He read the news from the newspaper clippings from beginning to end, chose one of the words, flicked off the cigarette ash, and pressed the cigarette butt on the word.Immediately a brown color appeared on the paper.Mathias continued to press down on the cigarette.The brown gradually expanded, and the cigarette finally burned through the paper, leaving a round hole with a brown edge in the paper.

Mathias then proceeded to carefully and slowly burn through a second similar hole at a considerable distance from the first.Only a strip less than a kilometer wide remains between the two holes, connecting the two round holes. Other round holes followed, at first in pairs, and then holes appeared wherever there was a gap.Moments later, the entire rectangle of clippings was riddled with holes.Mathias then proceeded to wipe out the entire newspaper clipping, gradually burning all the remaining scraps of paper with a cigarette.He started at one corner and worked his way up to the more complete lace-like parts, taking care not to let any piece of paper fall, except for the burnt fragments.He blew gently on the burning place and saw the flames spread faster.He took a puff now and then to make the tobacco burn faster; he flicked the ashes onto the tiles under his feet.

When the clipping was reduced to a small triangular piece of paper between the tips of his nails, Mathias put it in the fire and let it burn itself.In this way, there is no trace of this social news that can be seen by the naked eye.The cigarette itself was burned during this process, leaving only a "cigarette butt" of one and a half centimeters, so naturally it had to be thrown out the window. Mathias took from his pocket two too long cigarette butts which he had found on the grass of the Hanging Rock, and lit them one after the other in order to change them to the usual length; he sucked them as fast as he could, puff after puff , and throw them out the window as well. He reached into his pocket again with his right hand, and this time it came out with a candy.The clear wrapper was crumpled and still put back into the candy bag, while the brown piece of sugar went into his mouth.It's kind of like a coffee taffy. Mathias buttoned up his jacket.Since there is no wind, this drizzle will not blow into the room, so there is no need to close the windows.Mathias went all the way to the door of the room. As he was about to open the door to go out—the door to the street was in front of the house, and he had to go down the corridor and over the house to get there—he remembered that if he met his landlady, she would speak to him.So he opened the door gently, without making any noise.Indistinct conversations came from the other end of the corridor, probably from the kitchen.He recognized the landlady's voice in the voice.At least two men were talking to her.They seemed to try not to raise their voices, and sometimes even whispered. Mathias carefully closed the door again and went back to the window; it was quite easy to climb out from here.He climbed up the chunky little table, knelt on it so as not to leave marks on the waxed surface, stepped over the window ledge, crouched on the stone ledge outside, and dropped onto the flat grass of the moor.If those two people wanted to talk to him, there was nothing wrong with talking to him later. Mathias walked straight ahead, the moist air cooling his forehead and eyes.The grass and trees along the coast are like tapestry, soaking up water, and the soles of your shoes make a sound like squeezing a sponge when you step on it.Walking on this watery and elastic soil is effortless, comfortable, and brisk—whereas last night on the high road I bumped into invisible stones at every step.This morning the traveling salesman's fatigue was completely gone. He immediately reached the edge of the cliff, which was not very high in the vicinity.The sea has receded very low and continues to ebb.The sea is very calm.The regular hiss of the little waves was not much louder than the sound of shoes on the grass, but slower.On the left, the straight breakwater can be seen, which juts obliquely into the sea; also the signal station at the entrance to the port. Mathias continued walking in this direction, sometimes over fields, sometimes over rocks, when suddenly he was blocked by a crack perpendicular to the shore.The upper end of this crack is less than a meter wide, and it becomes narrower as it goes down, and soon becomes so narrow that even a child's body cannot pass through it.But its depth must be deeper, all the way into the rock, but there are protrusions on the two walls of the crack, making it impossible to see to the bottom.The seaward end of the fissure, instead of widening, narrowed—at least when viewed from above—so that there was not a single real opening in the innumerable mess of rocks that stretched from the waist of the cliff to the beach.Therefore, there is no way to get into this crack no matter from which side. Mathias took the bag of sweets out of his pocket, opened the bag, put a stone in to make the bag heavier, closed the bag, twisted it a few times, and threw it where the cracks were not too obstructed.The bag of candy hit the rock once, twice, but it didn't break apart, and its fall was unimpeded.Then it disappeared into the darkness, invisible to the eye. Mathias leaned over the mouth of the abyss, listened with his ears, and heard it bump against something hard again, and immediately there was a characteristic sound, indicating that it had fallen into a pool of water.The pool must have been connected to the sea at high tide, but the passages were so narrow and complicated that the ebb tide could never bring the little bag of sweets where everyone could see it.Mathias straightened up, turned a corner, walked around the crack, and continued walking.He wondered whether those crabs liked candy or not. Soon his feet were on the flat rocks that held the beginning of the breakwater--big gray rocks, hardly steep at all, reaching into the water without revealing the sand even at low tide.The road to the Customs House joins here with a more important footpath, which leads directly inland, leaving the coastal side to a pile of half-leveled ancient walls, which are obviously the ruins of the old royal city. Mathias had no trouble getting under the rocks, which were so arranged that they were easy to walk on.The outer wall of the breakwater rose before him, its base leading to the signal tower. He climbed the last incline, walked up the stone steps, and walked from the door in the fence to the pier.He was again on the uneven pavement, which had been washed clean by the rain this morning.The water in the port is as smooth as a frozen pond: there is no undulation, no ripple on the shore, no tremor on the water surface.At the end of the breakwater, there is a small fishing boat docked beside the landing bridge, and many small boxes are being loaded onto the boat.Three men—two on shore, one on deck—were handing small boxes to each other with robot-like movements. The seabed sludge exposed on the edge of the pier is no longer what it was a few days ago.After thinking for a few seconds, Mathias finally figured out the nature of this change, because there was nothing special to attract attention on this piece of gray-black mud, it was "clean", All the rubbish that had accumulated there was swept away at once.Mathias remembered that yesterday he had seen a group of people doing cleaning work during the high tide.According to the owner of the coffee shop, this is a hygienic habit that has been preserved since the island was used as a military port.Of course, the traveling salesman also pretended to remember this happening in his childhood; but in fact he had completely forgotten this detail, and everything about it, and the scene had evoked no recollection in him. . Crab shells, scrap iron, shards of pottery, half-rotted aquatic plants, etc., were all gone.Then the sea washed away the mud, leaving a smooth and clean beach after the low tide, except for a lone pebble or two here and there. As soon as Mathias entered the coffee shop, the owner called to him: there was an opportunity for him to go back to the city without waiting for the boat tomorrow afternoon.A fishing boat—the one he had seen moored by the quay—was heading for the mainland in a moment; and despite the restrictions on the ship, they agreed to carry him as a passenger.Mathias looked out through the glass door and saw that the small blue fishing boat continued to load, still quickly and mechanically. "The owner of the ship is a friend of mine," said the innkeeper, "and he will be at your service." "Thank you. But the round-trip ticket I bought is still valid, and I don't want to waste it." "Don't worry, the people on the fishing boat will not charge you a lot of money, and the boat company may refund your ticket." Mathias shrugged his shoulders.He watched a man walking along the jetty from the landing bridge. "I don't think it's possible," he said, "and if you're going to take a fishing boat, you have to be on board right away, don't you?" "There is still a full quarter of an hour. You have plenty of time to go back and get your luggage." "But there's no time for breakfast." "I can make you a neat cup of coffee in no time." The innkeeper immediately stooped to take a glass from the open sideboard, but Mathias stopped him with a gesture, and said with feigned dissatisfaction: "If I can't take my leisurely cup of good coffee with milk and two or three slices of bread and butter, I can't move." The owner of the store stretched his arms upwards and smiled, saying that since this is the case, it is unthinkable.Mathias turned to look at the glass door.The fisherman in red clothes walking on the breakwater seemed to stop in place when people were not looking at him, otherwise he was walking normally like him, and he had already come very close between the question and answer just now up.With baskets and fishing gear strewn along the road, it's easy to walk slowly.While Mathias watched him, the fisherman jumped over one obstacle after another quickly. Mathias returned the innkeeper with a smile, and added: "Besides, I have to pay the rent. My landlady will probably not be in the house at this time." He glanced again at the glass door, feeling the same amazement: the fisherman had stopped exactly where Mathias's gaze had left him a minute before, and continued to walk with a measured and rapid pace among the nets and gear.Whenever the eyes of others left him, he stopped; whenever the eyes returned to him, he continued walking--as if there was no pause at all, because no one could see him stop and move again. "As you please," said the innkeeper, "since you're so willing to stay with us... oh, I'll get you something to eat right away." "Okay, I'm hungry this morning." "No wonder! You hardly ate anything last night." "Usually I'm always hungry in the morning." "Anyway, it can be said that you like our place quite well. You are afraid to lose a day here." "Here, you know, is a place I've known for a long time. I was born here, as I told you." "You have plenty of time to finish your cup of coffee before going back to your luggage. As for the money, you're paying more to stay here." "Forget it! It's okay. I don't like making decisions at the last minute." "Do as you please. I'll get you something to eat right away! Little Louie is here, just in time." The gate opened, and in came a sailor in a faded red suit, the same one who had been walking on the jetty just now.His face was not unfamiliar to Mathias either. "Don't worry, boy," the innkeeper told him, "no one will take your wretched boat." The traveling salesman gave the young man a friendly smile: "I'm not too eager to get out of here, you know," he said. "I thought you were in a hurry to get out of here," said the innkeeper. Mathias cast a furtive glance at him.Judging from the expression of the innkeeper, it seems that there is no other meaning in his words.The young sailor did not let go of the handle of the door, and looked at them both in turn.His face was thin and serious, and his eyes seemed to see nothing. 'Scared,' repeated Feng Diyasi, 'I'm not in such a hurry.' No one answered him.The shopkeeper stood behind the counter, with his back against the doorframe of the inner room, and his face turned towards the sailor in the red cloth sailor suit and trousers.Now the young man's eyes were fixed on the corner of the room with the pinball machine on the back wall, as if waiting for someone. At last he murmured something and went out.The innkeeper also went out--going in through the inner door--but came back immediately.He walked around the liquor counter until he walked to the glass door and looked out. "This drizzle," he said, "will last all day." He went on to comment on the weather--the island's climate in general, and the weather of recent weeks.Mathias was worried that he would talk about the unreasonable reasons for his refusal to leave, but the shopkeeper seemed to agree with him completely: the weather today is indeed not a day for fishing boat travel, it is not because of fear of seasickness The sea is so calm that you won't get seasick; the fear is that such a small fishing boat doesn't have a proper place to shelter from the rain; The owner of the shop expressed dissatisfaction with the filthiness of these fishing boats: even if they wash the boats with large buckets of water all day long, there are always broken fish in every corner of the boat, as if growing out while washing.The ropes and cables on the ship are too rough to touch, and they will be covered with oil when touched. Mathias stole a glance at the innkeeper.It was evident that the innkeeper had no other intentions--not even any thoughts--he was talking for talking's sake, paying little attention to what he said.And he doesn't want anyone to believe what he says about himself.Even if he didn't speak at all, the result would be the same. The young waitress came in from behind the liquor counter, walking with small steps, holding a tray with the breakfast utensils on it.She arranged the cutlery on the table in front of Mathias.Now she knows where everything should be, and she no longer hesitates and makes mistakes like she did on the first day.It's just that sometimes her movements are relatively slow, which makes people see that she is working with trepidation.When the table was set, she looked up at the traveling salesman with her large black eyeballs to see if he was satisfied--but within a second, just a blink, she looked away.She seemed to smile at him this time, but it was hardly noticeable. She made one last look round the set table, stretching her arms forward a little as if to move something—the coffee pot, perhaps—but all was well arranged.The hand was small, the wrist almost too slender.The cord left deep marks of red on both wrists.But the rope was actually not very tight.The rope marks on the flesh were probably caused by her futile struggle.At the same time, he had to tie her ankles together—not together, which is too easy—but apart, each anchored to the ground, about a meter apart. . To do this, Mathias still had a piece of rope, because it was much longer than he thought.In addition, he needed to find two stakes firmly planted in the ground... In the end, the sheep around them provided him with an ideal solution.Why didn't he think of it sooner?He first tied her feet together so that she could not move, and he took advantage of this time to change the position of the flock; he tied all the sheep together—two pairs on one side, and one alone. On one side—his movements were so quick that the flocks were too late to startle.In this way he freed up two iron pillars—two pointed stakes, bent in a ring at the upper end. The most difficult thing for him was to pull the sheep back to the original place afterwards, because during this time, the frightened sheep straightened the rope and went around wildly in circles... And she, just Instead, he lay obediently now, with his hands bound behind his back--in the low crook of his back--legs stretched and splayed, and his mouth gagged. Then the surroundings became calmer: only the nickel-plated bicycle was left alone in the hollow of the overhanging rock, flat on the slope, lying conspicuously on the low grass.Although its parts are complex, its outline is very clear, and there is no messy feeling in any part, and there is no blurred place.There was no reflection of any kind on the smooth metal body, which must have been due to a very thin layer of dust—dust as thin as water vapour—accumulated on the road.Mathias drank the rest of the coffee in the bowl calmly. The shopkeeper went back to his observation post behind the glass door and told the traveling salesman that the fishing boats were moving.The hull of the boat slowly moved away from the sloping stone shore; the distance between the fishing boat and the shore gradually widened, and the black water in the middle could be seen. "You should be home at four o'clock," said the innkeeper, without turning his head. "Forget it! No one is waiting for me." Mathias replied. The owner of the shop didn't say anything anymore, just continued to watch the fishing boat's action-now the fishing boat turned the other side of the ship, the hull was perpendicular to the original direction, and the bow was facing the port.Despite the distance, the white numbers painted on the hull are still clearly visible. Mathias left the dining table.He had one last reason (he added) to stay here until tomorrow: before leaving the island, he wanted to finish the door-to-door sales that he hadn't done on the first night.He thought that since he was staying, he would not worry about lack of time, so he did nothing at all yesterday-or almost nothing-he relied on the third day to complete the last part of his visit in accordance with the normal practice.He explained to the shopkeeper his general route for traveling around the whole island: roughly a figure 8, and the town is not completely in the center of the figure 8, but just a point on the northwest corner of the upper circle.On the top of the upper circle is "Gunma" Meijia. From here to the port-about a quarter of the distance he originally planned-is the distance he will walk again; but this time he will Thoroughly done, neither neglecting any house nor missing a side road. On Tuesday, due to time constraints, he did not go to most of the small settlements that were not along the main road. In the end, he was obliged to stay nowhere, Some houses he didn't even enter, and just rushed forward at the speed that the bicycle could achieve. Today, he doesn't need to rent a bicycle for the short distance: he has plenty of time to walk.However, he thought it best to start at once instead of coming back to town for lunch.He therefore asked the innkeeper to bring him some ham sandwiches, and he went first to get his watch-case, and returned ten minutes later for the bread. As he was walking down the corridor the landlady saw him from the open kitchen door.She greeted him kindly, "Good morning, sir." He saw at once that she had nothing special to say to him--or nothing in general.She came to the door and he stopped too; she asked him if he slept well last night--yes; did he close the shutters--no; open...wait. Walking into the room, I immediately saw that the small box was not under the table.He remembered that he had put it elsewhere this morning.He opened the great wardrobe door--with the tips of his fingers, for it had neither handle nor key--took the little chest, and closed the door again.This time he went out through the gate and walked along the road to the town.The raindrops are now sparse and tiny, and you can't see them unless you pay special attention. Mathias walked into the "Hope" coffee shop, picked up the ham sandwich wrapped in yellow paper, put it in the short left pocket, and continued to walk towards the small square. The stone pavement under his feet was washed by the rain. s color. The windows of the hardware store are empty: everything that was displayed in the windows has been taken away.Inside there was a man in a gray smock standing on top of a display counter, facing the street.He was one meter above the ground, his black velvet sandals, his socks, and the leg of his trousers pulled up by the raised arm, all were illuminated by the sun, showing clearly.He held a large piece of rag in each hand; his left hand pressed against the glass, and his right drew small circles on the glass. As soon as Mathias rounded the corner of the shop, he came face to face with a young girl.He asked aside and let her pass.But the girl stopped and looked at him as if she wanted to talk to him, her eyes went from his little box to his face several times. "Good morning, sir," she said at last, "you are the traveling salesman who sells watches?" She is Maria Leduc.She was looking for Mathias, and she even wanted to find him in his lodgings, because she knew he was still living on the island.She wants to buy a watch—a solid watch. Mathias did not think it necessary to go back with her to her mother's house--her house was the last one on the edge of the town on the way to the lighthouse--and to do so would take him farther than he was going. the way.He pointed her out to the paved five-walk around the iron bars of the Monument to the Dead: now that the rain had stopped, they could have no problem viewing the stuff there.He laid the small box flat on the damp slate and opened the lock. After he handed the first few cardboards to the young girl, he put the cardboards one by one on the lid of the inner box and stacked them. At the same time, he told the young girl that they didn't meet in Black Rock Village, hoping that she would take the initiative to talk about her sister. Tragic accident.But the young girl showed no sign of wanting to talk about it, and he had to direct the question there more directly.She interrupted Mathias's polite remarks and told him only when the burial would take place--Friday morning.From what she said, it was clear that her family favored keeping the funeral as simple as possible, with only the closest relatives invited.Then she immediately returned to the question of buying the watch, and as if she still harbored some hatred for her dead sister, she said that time would not allow her delay.It only took a few minutes for her to choose a watch, and she came up with the best deal: as long as the traveling salesman left the watch in the coffee shop while eating, she would also give the money for the watch to the coffee shop, that's fine.Mathias had not closed the little box, and Maria Leduc had gone. From the other side of the monument to the dead, he saw a blank sheet of paper pasted on the movie billboard, covering the entire billboard.Just at this moment the owner of the tobacco shop came out of the shop, holding a small bottle and a slender paintbrush in his hand.Mathias asked him what happened to the multicolored poster yesterday; the shopkeeper replied that it was not the same as the copy of the movie he had received at the same time, and that the distributor had made a mistake.So he had to use ink to write the title of the next Sunday's show.When Mathias walked away, the shopkeeper had already started to work, writing a large letter heart with a strong brush. The traveling salesman walked along the path to the right of the town hall, past the edge of the old impoundment dock, the water in the pool had completely drained with the low tide—because the locks, which were no longer in use, had not been able to store water for years.The sludge at the bottom of the pool was also apparently removed. Then he walked along the high walls of the fortress.The following part of the road turns to the coast again, but it does not reach the sea, but only detours from the left to the sea. Mathias soon reached the crossroads that led to the Village of the Redeemer, a little earlier than he expected-this was the last place he systematically went to sell watches.He sold only one watch there--the last one of the day--but he had already visited the principal occupants there, and cordially and not too hastily, so there was no need to try his luck there now. up. So he continued along the road in the opposite direction, walking briskly towards the town. After walking about fifty meters, he saw the lonely little house on the right side of the road again. On Tuesday, he didn't bother to knock on the door because the house looked shabby.In fact, this house is the same building as most of the houses on the island: only the downstairs, with two small square windows sandwiching a low door in the middle. He knocked on the door and waited outside with a small box in his left hand.The freshly painted paint on the door mimics the original wood grain and embossment, it's just as real.At the height of a human face, two round knots are drawn side by side, much like a pair of glasses.The traveling salesman knocked again on the door with his thick ring. He heard footsteps in the corridor.The door opened a crack to reveal a woman's face - expressionless - neither welcoming nor annoyed; neither trusting nor distrustful, not even surprised. "How do you do, ma'am," he said, "would you like to see the watches? These are better watches than any you've ever seen, well made, guaranteed to be unbreakable, shockproof and water resistant, and at the cheapest price you'd expect. Take a look." Look! Just a minute, you have nothing to lose. Take a minute to see, buy or not." "Okay," the woman said, "come in." He went down the corridor, then into the kitchen by the first door on the right.He laid the small case flat on the oval table in the middle of the room.The new oilcloth on the table was printed with small multicolored flowers. With a touch of his fingertips, he opened the lock of the small box.He grasped the lid with both hands—one side, thumb resting on the corner reinforced with brass nails—and lowered the lid back.The lid was upside down and wide open, with the front edge resting on the oilcloth.The traveling salesman picked up the memo inside the box with his right hand and placed it on the inner lid.Then he picked up the instruction manual and placed it on top of the memo. He grabbed the lower left corner of the first rectangular piece of cardboard with his left hand, held it up to his chest, and made the cardboard fall backwards at a forty-five-degree angle, with the two long sides parallel to the tabletop.He clamped the lower right corner of the protective paper glued to the cardboard with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, peeled off the protective paper, and rotated it upward with the glued part as the axis until it turned to an angle of more than 180 degrees. Just let go of the protective paper.One edge of the protective paper is always glued to the upper end of the cardboard, and the paper itself continues to rotate freely until it is nearly vertical; but because the paper is hard, the vertical position is a bit skewed.At this moment, the right hand returned to the traveling salesman's chest, in other words, moved to the left, down to the middle of the cardboard.拇指和食指合拢着向前伸出去，另外三只手指收缩在手心里。伸出去的食指的指尖逐渐接近圆形的表面，那手表是戴在………… 圆形的表面，那手表是戴在他自己的手腕上的；他说： “四点十五分正。” 在隆起的手表玻璃旁边，他看见他自己的又长又尖的指甲。当然不是旅行推销员把它剪成这样子的。今夜…… “今天，船难时了。”那个女人说。 她向船头走去，马上被拥挤在甲板上的大群旅客遮没了。大部分旅客还没有在轮船上安顿下来；他们到处奔跑，找寻舒适的座位，互相推撞，互相呼唤，把行李堆放在一起，清点行李；另一些旅客站在面对防波堤的船舷上，想对留在岸上的家里人最后一次挥手告别。 马弟雅思也把手时靠在船舷的栏杆上，凝视着刚冲击了登陆斜桥又退下去的海水。在登陆斜桥的凹角里，水面的拍击声和波动是微弱而有规律的。再往右边一点，斜桥和笔直的堤壁所构成的锐角开始后退。 汽笛发出最后一声尖锐而悠长的鸣叫。接着就听见舱旁走道上的电铃响了。船身旁边那一弯颜色更黑的海水不知不觉地扩大了。 海岸那边，透过石块上面浅浅的一层海水，可以清清楚楚地看出下面石块的一切高低不平的地方，也可以看清楚石块之间凹度不同的水泥接缝。水底下的凹凸不平比空气中的凹凸不平更明显，也更不真实；水下的凹凸不平由于暗影加深——或者被过度夸张——而特别明显，可是给人的印象却不是真正的凸出，仿佛是故意画成的错觉形象似的。 海水还在上涨，虽然和今天早上轮船到达时的水位比较，现在的水位已经很高了。旅行推销员来到码头上，望着旅客们：旅客们都是些态度温和的平民，都是回家的本岛居民，他们的妻子和儿女走到防波堤上来迎接他们。 登陆斜桥还没有被水淹没的部分，突然被一个小浪弄湿了一大片，起码有五十公分宽。海水一退，石块上就出现了原来看不见的无数灰色和黄色的斑痕。 在登陆斜桥的凹角里，海水有节奏地时涨时落，使旅行推销员想起了轮船到了离这小岛几理远的海面上，经过一个浮标时，波浪的起伏也是这样的。他也想起了：大约再过三小时，他就回到大陆了。他稍微后退一步，以便看一看放在脚跟前的那只纤维小箱子。 那只浮标是铁做的，露出水面的部分有一个圆锥形的顶，下面是由无数铁条和铁片构成的、很复杂的一组结构。整个浮标高出海面三四公尺。仅仅那个圆锥形的柱架就占了这个高度的一半。其余分成三个明显相等的部分：首先，把圆锥形的尖顶加以延伸的是一个狭窄的、楼空的小方塔——由四根铁柱和铁柱之间的许多十字横档组成。其次，塔上面是一个圆锥体的笼子，四面是垂直的小柱，中间是一个信号灯。最后，最高一层是从圆锥体的大轴伸出去一根柱子，贯穿三个等边三角形，一个叠一个，下面一个的尖顶恰好支持着上面一个的平底。整个浮标漆成发亮的黑色。 浮标不太轻，不能随着波浪的冲击而波动，因而浮标旁边的水位，只随着波浪的涨落而时高时抵。海水虽然很清，却看不见浮标的下层建筑——只看见一些晃动的形体：链条，岩石，很长的海藻，或者仅仅是浮标露出水面部分的倒影…… 旅行推销员又想起了：再过三个小时，他就回到大陆上了。