Chapter 3 third chapter

Rhoda had been married to a naval officer for so many years, but she was still not used to packing and moving.She's pretty good at it, making long lists, remembering trifles, waking up in the middle of the night to jot down notes, but she's also a shrew who can be heard all over the house from dawn until late at night. her angry voice.Pug spent his days in Naval Intelligence, studying Germany like hell, and ate his meals at the Army-Navy Club.Yet despite the urgency of the day, Rhoda managed to do it right: store the furniture, lock the place up for rent, pay the bills, pack her own clothes and Pug's heavy suitcase of civilian and military uniforms, Madeline sent it to her sister's home.

The curving black stern of the large cruise ship stands tall on the gravel road by the river, with "Bremen" written in golden characters across the stern.Above the gold lettering, in the cool, fishy breeze from the Hudson River, a huge red flag fluttered, revealing a large black letter A in a white circle in the center. "My God, this is all true," Madeline told Warren as she got out of the taxi. "What's the matter?" Warren asked. "Oh, everything about Hitler. The Nazis, 'Long live the Führer', the burning of books—reading it all in the papers, it's so ridiculous, so crazy, it's hard to believe it's true. But look, there's the a Woolen cloth."

Victor Henry glanced up at the Nazi flag, his whole face crumpled into a ball.Rhoda was happily ordering the porter to carry the luggage. "A special permit is required to ship this barrel. I hope we have learned our German well. Come aboard with us and see." They were sitting in the darkly carved wainscoting of first-class cabins, gossiping desolately amidst a mass of suitcases and trunks, until Rhoda, restless, jumped up and pulled Warren along. Went for a walk on the deck of the cruise ship.Madeline took the opportunity to tell her father that she didn't want to go on to college.Living with her stiff aunt and even stiffer uncle and two twin cousins ​​for two years was, she said, too much for her.

"So what are you going to do? Two years of college and failing several classes," Victor Henry said. "You can't just lie around and read Fashion magazine all day until you get married." "I want a job. I can work. I'm sick of school. I hate reading. I've never been interested in reading. I'm not like you, and I'm not like Warren. I figure I'm more like Byron. I I can't do it myself." "I never liked reading either," replied Henry. "No one likes to read. You just do what you're supposed to do, and you're supposed to do it well."

The daughter sat upright on the edge of the big armchair, showing the most flattering smile. "Please! Let me take a year off first, I promise I can do it. There's a lot of work for young girls at the radio center in New York. If I can't do it, I'm going to go back to college and go to college--" "What! New York? Going to New York alone at nineteen? Are you crazy?" "Just this summer, let me try." "No. You must go to Newport with Aunt Augusta, as it has been arranged. Haven't you always liked Newport?" "For a week, of course it would be nice. For a summer, it would be a bore."

"You'd better go. Beginning in the fall, I want you to write to me on time and report your academic performance in college." Madeline leaned back in the armchair, picked an apple from the basket full of fresh fruits sent by Kip Tolliver, and ate it with relish.She stared straight ahead, gave her father an occasional look of hatred, and gnawed at the apple in silence until her mother and brother came back.Pug took a book on German steelmaking and tried to ignore her winks.He didn't like being parted from his daughter under such circumstances, but she made demands beyond his imagination.

The "Bremen" sailed at noon.As soon as Warren and Madeline left the pier, the band played a joyful German waltz.They took a taxi into the city, talking very little to each other along the way.Henry's taciturnity set an example for the whole family; the children only played and laughed when they were young, and went their separate ways as adults, rarely talking to each other about how to live.Warren dropped Madeline off at Radio City without asking what she planned to do there.They agreed to have dinner together, see a play, and then take the midnight train back to Washington.

Madeline walked into the American RCA radio company building, looked around in the huge lounge, and stared blankly at the murals of Diego Rivera on the walls and ceiling.Then she wandered near a row of elevators dedicated to NBC's arts and staff.She noticed that most of the people coming and going didn't show their ID to the uniformed janitor, just smiled at him, waved, or hurried through the roped-off entrance.She also hurried in, trying to look like she was twenty-five and an internal employee.The doorman gave her a sideways look, and tried to stop her with a hand.But she strode into an elevator full of people.

① Diego Rivera (1886-1957), a famous Mexican muralist. For an hour she wandered around the inner room of the broadcasting company, admiring the thick coffee-colored carpet, the tall black columns, the cars of lights and broadcasting equipment that passed her, the bright red lights outside the broadcasting room, the rush of Pretty girls and pretty young men who come and go.She went to the door of the Personnel Office and stood there for a long time, peering through the two open doors like a child looking at a candy bar.She finally left, killing the day in the department store. As for Warren, the taxi took him downtown, where he met a beautiful woman of about thirty at the Lumbermanyer Hotel.She had large, melancholy eyes, and fair hair, and she spoke vividly and passionately of novels, pictures, and music, subjects that Warren did not much enjoy.His major subjects at school were history and science.They were spending time in the hotel room after an early lunch, which was more interesting to him.

While he was having dinner with his sister, Madeleine took a cigarette from the case he had left on the table, lit it, and smoked inexperiencedly.Her obstinate, self-satisfied, somewhat endearing air made Warren laugh. "The cat's gone, hey!" he said. "Oh, I've been smoking for years," Madeline said. The steamship whistled three times, the bridge on the pier was pulled from the hatch, and the band played the American national anthem from below.Impulsively, Rhoda turned to her husband, smiled sweetly--a smile he hadn't seen on her face in weeks--put her arms around his neck, and kissed passionately with her mouth parted. with him.

"Hey! Here we go, Pug, aren't we? To Germany. Almost our second honeymoon! Hmm!" His wife, who has been busy packing up her luggage and suffocating anger, offered to show her hospitality to him, and Pug, who was dedicated to using love, was overjoyed like receiving a birthday present.It was a good sign that they would be happy, not only during the few days on board, but probably throughout their Berlin expatriate period.He held her tightly in his arms. "Hey!" Rhoda broke free, and smiled loudly, his eyes shining brightly. "Don't be so impatient, lad. I want a drink, just a drink, and I don't care if the sun goes over the yard. I know what I want. Champagne cocktails, maybe two, maybe three." "No problem. Let's drink it here. I'll get a bottle." "No, Pug. It's going to be a nice long voyage across the Atlantic. Let's have a drink in the bar." The mail ship was leaving the dock, and the whining tugboat turned the ship south, and the deck began to vibrate underfoot.A group of weary-faced, happy travelers had filled the bar, making a fuss and noise. "I thought everyone was suffering from war phobia," Rhoda said. "No one here seems to be worried." They found two empty stools by the counter.Raising a glass of champagne cocktail, Rhoda asked, "Well, who is healthy?" "Children," said Pug. "Okay. Our abandoned chicks. Well, good health to the children," said Rhoda, sipping champagne, chatting animatedly about the Bremen's elegant equipment.Traveling on German steamers in these days, she said, made her feel adventurous. "Pug, do you think there are Nazis in this bar?" she asked innocently. The red-faced fat man sitting next to Rhoda glanced at Rhoda.He wore a green hat with feathers and drank from a beer jug. "Let's go for a walk on deck," said Pug, "and look at the Statue of Liberty." "No, sir. I'll have another drink. I've seen the Statue of Liberty long ago." With a resolute little wag of his thumb, Pug moved Rhoda off the stool.As soon as he got a hold of his naval work, Pug could treat her like a deckhand.He opened the door for her, and a gust of wind blew in their faces, and they walked aft against the wind, and saw seagulls circling and singing overhead, and passengers clustered around the railing to watch the buildings of Manhattan pass by in the brown mist. Leaning against a deserted railing, Pug whispered, "Look, unless you're out in the open like this, you can be sure that everything we say on our journey will be recorded, wherever it may be. In the bar, at the dinner table, or even in our stateroom. Did it ever occur to you?" "Well, I'd like to, but—even in our stateroom! Really?" Pug nodded. Rhoda was silent for a moment, then sneered. "You mean—you don't mean day and night, Pug? Always?" "It's a job requirement. They would be too sloppy if they didn't do it. And the Germans are never sloppy." She thought it was funny, and pouted slightly. "Very well, then, sir, stay away from me on this boat, that's all I can say." "In Berlin, it will be no different." "Can't we have our own house?" He shrugged. "Kip said, get used to it, don't take it too seriously. I mean we'll have no more secrets. You're like a fish in a glass bottle, all right. Anyway, what did you say? Or what you did, how can you not keep it in your heart!" "Honestly!" She had a strange look on her face, half chagrin and half excited. "I don't know how I didn't think of that beforehand. Well! Love has its way, they say, but—oh, fuck it! It's not really that important, is it? Now I can go again Would you like a drink?" Shortly before supper, an engraved invitation was slipped through the lower door of the stateroom, inviting them to dine with the captain.They discussed Pug's uniform and decided against it.This decision later proved to be correct.At the table, there was a German submarine officer as short and silent as Victor Henry, also wearing a brown civilian suit.The captain was a dull man, in a blue uniform with gold buttons, with a big belly, and he joked awkwardly with the ladies in slow English or very clear German, his blue eyes were The weather-beaten fat face was shining.From time to time, he flicked his fingers lightly, and a well-dressed steward would jump up to him in one step.The captain gave him brief instructions, and the steward, with a look of terror on his face, hurried away, gesturing to the waiters, the hem of his frock coat flapping incessantly.The food was plentiful and delicious; and the white and purple orchids in the vases were very pleasing to the eye.The variety of wine caused Pug to worry, because when Rhoda got excited, he would get drunk.But she ate with gusto, drank in moderation, and talked and laughed with the captain in fluent German, which made him very happy. The submarine officer's wife sat to Henry's left. She was a fair-haired woman in a low-cut green tulle dress that showed a fair portion of her large cream-colored breasts. Pug asked her if she had ever been in a movie. Startled, then smiled softly.To his right sat a little English girl in gray tweed, the daughter of Alester Tudsbury.Tudsbury, the only real celebrity at the table, was a British radio broadcaster and correspondent, six foot two, pot-bellied, with fish eyes, thick eyebrows, a big veined nose, thick glasses, He speaks loudly and has a great appetite for eating.He came to the dinner table laughing, and he laughed whenever anyone told him anything, and he laughed no matter what he said.He was very ugly, and his clothes did not lessen his ugliness at all: a rust-colored fine wool suit, a checked shirt, and a big green bow tie.He smoked only cigarettes, which looked very small between his fat, sausage-like fingers; a man like him should smoke a pipe or a long black cigar, but he always had a cigarette in his hand, unless he was busy. When using a knife and fork. Although everyone talked and laughed reluctantly, the meal was still very awkward.Not a single one mentioned politics, the war or the Nazis.Even books and plays are dangerous subjects.In the long silence, only the groaning and groaning of the cruise ship was heard.Victor Henry and the submarine officer looked at each other, but did not talk.Once or twice Pug tried to tease Tudsbury's daughter, who sat to his right, only to elicit a coy smile from her.While eating his sweets, he turned away from the blond woman - who kept praising his bad German - and made another effort at the English girl. "I figured you were away from school for a vacation?" "Well, I'm afraid I'm out of school forever. I'm twenty-eight." "Really? Hey! I'm sorry. I thought you were in the same grade as my daughter. She's nineteen." Tudsbury's daughter didn't say anything, so he went on. "I hope you'll take my stupidity as a compliment. Don't women like being called young?" "Oh, a lot of people make that mistake, Colonel. Probably from traveling with my father. He's not very good-eyed. I'm helping him." "that must be very interesting." "It also depends on the subject matter. These days, it's a bit like putting on a broken record. I keep saying: can this little bastard know how to do it, or can't do it?" She sipped her drink.Lieutenant Colonel Henry couldn't help being dumbfounded. "Little bastard" refers to Charlie Chaplin, of course, and it goes without saying that it alludes to Hitler.What she meant was that one of the subjects of Tudsbury's current broadcast was whether or not Hitler would start a war.She kept her face and tone unchanged, and used an argot that the Germans could not understand, but at the banquet of the captain of the "Bremen", she not only touched on taboo topics, but also expressed incomparable contempt for the German dictator. ①Charlie Chaplin (born in 1889), a famous American film actor, starred in the film "The Great Dictator" satirizing Hitler in the late 1930s. Pug Henry had spent the blissful night of his second honeymoon, and came out early next morning on the cool, sunny deck, where he saw already half a dozen early-rising travelers strolling.He estimated five laps at about a mile, and he intended to do fifteen to twenty laps.As he rounded the bows to port, he saw the Tudsbury girl coming towards him from a distance on the long deck, swinging her arms and twisting her hips.She still wears the gray suit. "Good morning." They nodded and smiled at each other, passed each other, and then repeated the same ritual as they walked to the other side of the boat.When they met for the third time, he turned around and said to her, "Let's go together." "Oh, thank you, that's great. I feel so silly ready to smile from forty feet away." "Your father doesn't like to take a walk before breakfast?" "He hates all sports. He's as strong as a bull, and nothing works on him. But poor Tower has been suffering from gout lately. That's his biggest problem." "Tokyo?" ①Taoji means "broken mouth" in English. Pamela Tudsbury smiled. "His middle name is Tolcott. His friends have called him Torky since school days." She walked fairly quickly.Now she wears flat shoes and looks very short.She glanced up at him. "Lieutenant Colonel, where's your wife? Don't you like walking too?" "She likes to sleep in. She won't even walk to the corner shop if she has a car or a cab. Well, what's your father's opinion? Can this little bastard do it?" She smiled, her eyes sparkling, obviously pleased that he remembered the words. "He's talking about it without shame, and it's all about this: Time will tell." "What do you think?" "Me? I just typed his opinion on a typewriter. I used a special typewriter with very large letters." Three well-tailored German women walked past them panting, Pamela He gestured to them. "Traveling on their boats, I always have an indescribable feeling in my heart." "Has your father just published a book? I seem to recall seeing reviews." "Yes. Seriously, it was just cutting and pasting his broadcast." "I'd love to see it. I'm in awe of the writers. I can't write anything myself, word for word." "I saw one in the ship's library. He sent me to look it up," she said, grinning.Pug couldn't help thinking of Madeline laughing in the same way when she caught him conceited or affected.He hoped Warren would meet this girl, or someone like her.There was that chatterbox last night—that half-naked, full-breasted blond woman around, and he didn't pay much attention to the girl.But now, especially under the influence of the fresh morning air at sea, he felt that she had the face of an English lady, a face like that of Gaspaul or Ronan: thin lips, wide apart Expressive gray-green eyes, a straight nose, and thick brown hair.The skin on her face and hands was as smooth as pearls.He and Warren are exactly the same pair, beautiful and clever. ① Ronan (1734-1802), a famous British portrait painter. ② Gaspaul (1727-1788), a famous British portrait painter. "Are you still walking? I'm not going," she said, stopping by the double doors of a room. "Lieutenant Colonel Henry, if you really want to read his book, you'd better keep it under your arm, and he'll fall in love with you right away. It'll make his travels more pleasant." "He still cares about this? Why, he's already famous." "He cares. God, they do care." She waved her hand awkwardly and went into the room. Pug finished his breakfast alone and went to the library.There was no one in the room except a boyish overseer.There are many German books about the First World War on the bookshelf.Pug took a fancy to a book called "Submarines: 1914-18", so he sat in his leather armchair and turned to the part on the strategy of American destroyers to read carefully.Soon he heard the rustle of a pen.At a small desk that he could barely reach, sat the German U-boat officer, writing with his hedgehog-like head bent.Pug didn't see him come in. Grok smiled slightly, pointed to the book about submarines with a pen and said, "Reminiscing about the past?" "Well, I was on a destroyer." "As for me, it's underwater. Maybe it's not the first time we've met." Groch spoke English with a slight German accent, but it wasn't unpleasant. "Very likely." Pug put the book on submarines back on the shelf and took down the book by Tudsbury.Grocker said, "Let's have a drink before dinner and exchange our thoughts on the Atlantic in 1918, shall we?" "great." Pug thought of sitting in a chair on the deck and reading Tudsbury for a while before going down to work.He had brought some heavy volumes on German industry, politics, and history, and he intended to read them all on the way to his post.Things like intelligence manuals are of course very good, but he likes to delve into it by himself, looking for more details in the thick and chilling tome.There are so many things recorded in the book, but it is a pity that there is often a lack of sharp and careful eyes. The waves were choppy at the bow, and the white spray formed a V on the sunny blue sea. The "Bremen" braved the wind and waves like a battleship.Pug looked up at the light smoke coming out of the chimney, and looked at the sea. He estimated that the wind was from the northwest; Rain and stormy winds below cumulonimbus clouds.He could not help thinking of life at sea.It has been four years since he left the ocean, and eleven years since he was out of command!He stood by the railing at the bow, leaning on a post to hang the lifeboat, and took deep breaths of sea air.Two middle-aged couples walked past him, clearly Jewish, both dressed in smart sportswear, talking cheerfully as they walked.They turned the cabin on the deck and disappeared.He was watching their backs when he heard Tudsbury's bell-like voice: "Hello, Lieutenant Colonel. I heard you took my Pam for a walk at dawn." ① Pamela's nickname. "Hello. Did you see the four people just passing by?" "Yes. Jewish, of course. Say, is that my book? How touching. How much have you read?" "I just borrowed it from the library." Tudsbury's mustache drooped melancholy. "What! Didn't you buy it yourself? Go to all the fucking libraries. Then you read the book, and I won't even get a penny." He laughed and put a foot in a green sock on on the railing.He was wearing a baggy salt and pepper golf suit and a green Scotch cap. "It's a bad book, and it's actually a counterfeit. But it sells well in your country, which is luck to me. If you haven't heard my nonsense on the radio in the last two years, Then you can see some interesting chapters in the book. Footnotes to history. My report on Hitler's entry into Vienna wasn't too bad. What kind of times we live in, Lieutenant Colonel." He spoke of the German occupation of Austria as if on the radio: decisive, well-informed, utterly contemptuous of democratic politicians, animated with ominous omens.Tudsbury's unique insight is that the world could be on fire, but it could also be spectacular. "Can you imagine the absurd and terrible victories we've made him win, my dear friend? I've seen them all. Plutarch! A little man with nothing, no education, From humble beginnings - a dismissed schoolboy at twenty, a bum, a down-on-the-luck man - spent five years as a filthy, ragged bum in a Viennese inn - you know it all Do you, Henry? Did you know that for five years the Führer was what you call a Bowery bum, crammed in a dirty little room with a bunch of fellow wretches, in the Soups in soup kitchens for the poor, and not because the economy was depressed—Vienna was prosperous at the time—but because he was lazy, incompetent, imaginative, out of touch with reality! Said he had been The painter's stories are all made up. He sold a few hand-painted postcards, but he was a street bum until he was twenty-six. He was a four-year soldier in the German army. , rose to the rank of corporal, worked as a footman, a job that is degrading even for the least educated, and at the age of thirty he was destitute, unemployed, gassed himself, and lay in an army hospital. This is the life experience of the head of state. ①A small street in New York City, famous for its small inns for rent. ②Plutarch (46-120), a famous Greek biographer. "Then—" He was talking vigorously, eloquently and eloquently like on the radio, when the steamer's whistle suddenly sounded, drowning Tudsbury's voice.He seemed to be taken aback, then laughed, and went on to say: "What happened next? Well, it was this ugly, sick, brutish, stubborn, ignorant, half-mad wretch who jumped out of the hospital bed suddenly He climbed to the top position of Führer in Germany, which was desperate to recover. He was a foreigner, Henry! An Austrian. They had to forge citizenship papers for him in order to let him run against Hindenburg. And I, But seeing him make a fortune with his own eyes, from selling postcards on the streets of Vienna to starving until he became the sole heir to the throne of the two royal families of Habsburg and Hohenzollern. Victor Henry smiled slightly. Tudsbury was staring He squinted his eyes and was excited, and couldn't help laughing at this moment. "Ha, ha, ha!I figured that if you think about it, it's pretty ridiculous.But it is precisely this grotesque that is the central fact of our time. " In fact, Henry laughed at Tudsbury's spout. There was nothing new in it, and most of it was in his book, and it was almost word for word. "Well, it's the same old saying: a stitch in time, nine stitches saved," he said. "Your politicians would have killed this incredible little bastard easily if they had done it earlier. Now they have a problem. By the way, where are you going? Berlin, too?" ① Hindenburg (1847-1934), then President of Germany. Taverberry nodded. "Our old man in Berlin suddenly came down with prostatitis at this critical moment. Ha-ha! Dr. Goebbels said I could take his place, very unexpectedly! I have been a member of the Third Reich since Munich in 'persona non grata'. No doubt I'll be kicked out of them in a few weeks. For some reason, the Germans are especially nice to the Brits this month. Maybe it's after they've annexed Poland The Conservatives are polite maggots. Lloyd George calls them aristocratic rats. Except for Churchill, he doesn't hang out with them." It had become a habit for the American lieutenant colonel and the German submarine officer to meet in the bar every day before dinner.It was his job, Henry figured, to get information out of Grok; it was probably the same for Grok.Groc was a career soldier, a mechanical engineer, and a true seaman.He spoke freely of the machinery of the new submarines, and even openly admitted some difficulties in dealing with torpedoes.Henry was an expert on the subject, though he was very cautious in discussing it.Groc's attitude toward politicians was one of distaste and contempt, much like a U.S. Navy man in this respect.Whenever he talked about the Nazis, he always had a sarcastic look on his face, and he spoke unscrupulously. If his wife was around, he would send him a warning look. One night, Alister Tudsbury and Henry Pugle were sitting together on a couch in the hall watching a dance, when he suddenly said to Pug, "You seem to have made friends with the Germans." "We're talking business. I figured Grock wasn't a Nazi." "Oh, this submarine crew is pretty good among the Germans." "You don't seem to like Germans." "Well, let's talk about it after you've been in Germany for a month. In case I haven't been deported by then." "Of course I don't blame you. They have given you a lot of pain in the past." "No more pain than we gave them. In the end we won, you know." He paused, and then added: "When our tank broke through the enemy's line in Amiens, I hurt my eye. I was Commanded a tank battalion, got gassed. All in all it was worth the price. We finally saw the Germans escape. It was a long time ago." At this time, the captain of the "Bremen" was dancing with Rhoda.His legs are very long, and he dances and jumps up and down, which does not match his fat body.Rhoda was radiant and very happy.Pug was glad to see him, too.For several nights she danced with a very tall young officer.The officer was of the beautiful hawk type, bowing reverently to the woman, with shining blue eyes, and holding her a little too tightly while dancing.When Pug made a comment on the matter, Rhoda immediately retorted with a grin, blaming him for keeping his head buried in books all day on this trip, and he fell silent.On the whole she had been agreeable, and as long as she remained so, he was content. The captain came back with her by the arm.Pamela Tudsbury dancing with an American college student.The man danced and swaggered, swinging his body as if threshing grain with a flail.She followed listlessly, tired enough.When she came back, she said, "I'll have to get myself a cane and a white wig. If I refuse, they'll look sad and sad. But I can't dance, as for the sailors." dance--" The music is playing again.Rhoda's tall young officer in very neat uniform came up.Pug immediately showed displeasure.The captain noticed, and as the young officer approached, he spoke five or six words to him over loud music.The young man stopped, flinched, and rushed out of the hall.Pug never saw him again. Rhoda was about to stand up with a smile on his face when he saw the young German fleeing suddenly, feeling baffled. "Dancing, Rhoda?" Pug stood up. "What?" she said angrily. "No, thanks." Pug held out a hand to the Tudsbury girl. "Pamela?" She hesitated. "You don't dance the sailor dance, do you?" Pug chuckled. "Well, no one can figure out you Americans." She dances clumsily and without experience.Pug liked her gentle manner, and the resigned smile she gave as she stomped on his foot. "You're not going to have a good time," she said. "I had a great time. Do you think you'll ever go back to America?" "If my father gets kicked out of Germany—which seems inevitable—I suppose we'll go back to America. What's the matter?" "I have a son who is about your age and has excellent work performance. Unlike me, he is tall and beautiful." Pamela made a face. "A navy guy? No. There's a girl in every port." On the last night, the captain entertained guests again.White orchids are placed on each female table, and under the flowers is a gold and white powder box.Everyone drank champagne, and finally the conversation turned to international politics.Everyone agrees that, in this day and age, it is foolish to settle disputes by war, and it brings nothing but unnecessary sacrifices, especially among such advanced countries as Britain, France, and Germany. "We're all one family, all the Nordics included," Tudsbury said. "Brothers fighting against a wall is the saddest thing." The captain nodded happily. "Exactly what I want to say. As long as we can unite tightly, there will be no more wars. Facing such a powerful force, the Bolsheviks would never dare to fight. Who else wants war except them?" In the dining room, people All wear paper hats and throw colored paper ribbons.Pug noticed that the four Jews were sitting at a table not far from them, as cheerful as everyone else.The smiling German waiters still served them politely.The captain followed Henry's gaze, his stern, fat face relaxed into a superior grin. "You see, Lieutenant Colonel? They're as welcome and entertained as anyone else on the 'Bremen'. It's pure fantasy to make a fuss on the subject." Turning to Tudsbury, "we say To tell you the truth, should you reporters take some responsibility for the worsening of the matter?" "Well, Captain," said Tudsbury, "reporters have to find a subject, you know. From the perspective of those who don't live in Germany, your government has a lot of new things, one of which is the treatment of Jews." policy. So it’s in the news a lot.” “塔茨伯利说的不是没有一点道理，”格罗克一口喝干杯子里的酒，插嘴说，“现在一提到德国，外国人首先想到的总是犹太人。这方面的政策确实有问题。我已经说过多少次了。这是一件事，其他类似的事还多得很。”他转向亨利，“然而，维克多，跟元首取得的成就相比，这些都变得无关紧要了。元首已经使德国恢复了元气。这是千真万确的。人民都有了工作，人人有饭吃，有房住，而且大家都有了精神。光是希特勒对我们年青一代所作的贡献就大得难以使人相信。”（船长两眼放光，使劲点着头，不住地说：“对，对！”）“在魏玛共和国时代，青年们干什么呢？他们上街闹事，他们变成共产党，他们吸毒，搞变态性爱，说来真是可怕。现在呢，他们都在工作，受训，或者为大家服务，没有例外。他们都很快乐！我部队里的水兵也都很快乐。你简直没法想象在共和国时代海军的士气有多低落——我向你提个建议吧。”他敲了下桌子。“你到斯维纳蒙台潜艇基地来参观一下我们的舰队，你一定来！象你这样的人，看了海军基地或者船上的水兵，就会明白发生了什么！它能打开你的眼界。你来不来？” 亨利犹豫一下，没有立刻回答。桌上的人大家都期待地望着他。如果接受这样的邀请，美国政府也就有义务向驻华盛顿的德国海军武官发出同样的邀请。海军部是否愿意跟纳粹政府作这笔交易，彼此交换参观潜艇基地呢？帕格可没有这个权力作出决定。他得向华盛顿报告这个邀请，按照上面的指示办事。他说：“我很希望能去。也许我们可以作出安排。” “答应吧。把礼节撇在一边！”格罗克说着，举起两只胳膊一挥，“这是我对你发出的私人邀请，是两个海员之间的私人交情。潜艇指挥部分到的预算小得可怜，我们的行动也就比较自由。你可以自由到我们这里参观。我可以负责。” “这个邀请包括不包括我？”塔茨伯利说。 格罗克沉吟一下，接着笑起来。“怎么不包括？来吧，塔茨伯利。英国人对我们了解得越深，草率地犯错误的可能性也就越小。”“嗯，这也许是缔造和平的一个小小的重要步骤，”船长说，“就在我的饭桌上达成协议！我觉得很荣幸。咱们都要多喝些香槟表示庆祝。” 这样，在“不来梅号”船长的饭桌上，大家一齐为和平干杯。当时离午夜还有几分钟，大邮船已放慢速度，渐渐驶近灯火辉煌的纳粹德国海岸。 在明媚的阳光下，“不来梅号”象火车似的在大河两岸低低的绿色河滩中间缓缓前进。帕格站在太阳甲板的栏杆边，象过去一样在航海之后看到了陆地觉得很高兴。罗达却是老毛病发作，在下面舱房里大发雷霆。每逢他俩一起旅行，罗达总得受收拾行李之苦。帕格收拾他自己的东西倒是个老手，可是罗达说，他放的东西她永远找不到。 “哦，不错，这个国家景致很美丽，”塔茨伯利溜达过来，开始谈论景色。“你将会在不来梅港和柏林之间看到许多美丽的德国北方小城。建筑式样都很象英国都铎式。事实上，英、德两国有很深的关系和许多相似之处。你当然知道，德国皇帝威廉二世是维多利亚女王的外孙，我们王室有很长时间只讲德语。然而总的说来，德国人对我们说来比爱斯基摩人还要陌生。”他哈哈一阵大笑，用一只胖手朝岸上一扫，接下去说：“一点不错，亨利，德国人坐在这儿欧洲中心。这些使我们大伤脑筋的表兄弟，他们咝咝地响，呜呜地叫，有时发出一声震耳欲聋的巨响，向四面八方溢出来。他们从这些可爱的小镇、这些童话里的仙境、这能干净漂亮的城市里涌出来——等你看到科隆，纽伦堡、慕尼黑、甚至柏林和汉堡以后，你就懂得我的意思了——我刚才说，他们从那些地方象汽泡似的冒出来，这些彬彬有礼的、蓝眼睛的音乐爱好者，却一下子都成了嗜血的刽子手。实在有点叫人毛骨悚然。现在呢，出现了一个希特勒，又让他们沸腾起来了。你们美国人也许得出一把更大的力，比上一次出的力要大得多。你知道我们已被他们弄得精疲力竭了，我们和法国人。” 亨利注意到塔茨伯利每次谈话，不管通过什么方式，话题总要落到美国跟德国打仗上面。 “也许不会发生这样的事，塔茨伯利。我们得对付日本人。他们正在宰割中国；他们又有第一流的战舰，而且每月都在扩建。要是他们把太平洋变成了日本内湖，继续干他们在亚洲大陆干的那一套，那么不出五十年，整个世界都要属于他们的了。”塔茨伯利从笑容可掬的嘴角吐出舌头，说道：“黄祸。” “这是事实和数字的问题，”亨利说。“欧洲一共有多少人口？一、二亿？日本现在快要统治十亿人口了。他们跟德国人一样勤劳，有过之无不及。他们从纸糊的房子里出来，穿着绸制的和服，却在一二十年内打败了俄国。他们才叫可怕。跟我们在亚洲面临的局势相比，希特勒干的这套玩艺儿在我看来就好象小猫小狗在后院里打架。” 塔茨伯利盯着他，不自然地点了点头。“可能你把德国人估计过低了。” “也许你把他们估计过高了。他们占领莱茵河流域的时候，你们和法国人干吗不干涉呢？他们违反了条约。你们本来可以在那时候动手，把希特勒绞死，可以象冲进女学生宿舍那样不费吹灰之力。” “啊，这是事后的聪明，”塔茨伯利说，“别要求我为我们的政客们辩护。那是一次彻底的失败，完全丧失了理智和头脑。我在一九三六年说的、写的，完全跟你现在说的一样。在慕尼黑我差点儿自杀。我把整个情况都详细报道了。捷克斯洛伐克！有一连串坚强的碉堡，一直插进德国的心脏。有五十个第一流的师，准备大显身手。它还是世界第二大兵工厂。苏联，甚至法国，最后都准备起来作战了。这一切，都发生在短短六个月之前！但是一个英国人，一个英国人，从欧洲爬到希特勒跟前，把捷克送给了他！”塔茨伯利机械地笑着，抽了口被微风吹成锯齿形的香烟。“我不知道。也许民主制度不适应这个工业化时代。如果要它存在下去，我认为非美国人出场不可。” “为什么？为什么你老要这样说？从表面看，你们和法国人仍比德国人占很大优势。你难道看不出来？人力、火力、钢、油、煤、工业设备，无论从哪方面看都是这样。他们的空军暂时领先，可是他们背后有苏联的威胁。当然不象去年或者两年前那样容易，不过你们仍有获胜的希望。” “啊，他们的领导力量强。” 一只结实的手拍了下亨利的肩膀，一个带着讽刺口气的声音说了声：“希特勒万岁！”欧斯特•格罗克穿一身又旧又皱的海军制服站在那里，立得笔直、脸上的神情很严肃。“嗯，先生们，咱们就要再见了。维克多，我要是在混乱中不能再见到你，以后怎么跟你联系呢？大使馆吗？” “当然啦。海军武官办公室。” “啊！”塔茨伯利说。“咱们要到斯维纳蒙台去作一次小小的旅行！你居然没有忘记，真叫人高兴！” “我尽可能请你一起去。”格罗克冷冷地说。他跟他们两个握了手，鞠了一躬，卡嚓一声并拢脚后跟，就离开了。 “去跟帕米拉告别一下吧，”塔茨伯利说。“她在底下整理行李。” “我这就去。”帕格跟那位通讯记者一起走下甲板，后者拄着根拐杖，走起路来一瘸一拐。“我很想把她介绍给我的一个儿子。” “哦，你真这样想？”塔茨伯利透过厚厚的眼镜恶作剧似的瞟了他一眼。“我警告你，她可不好对付呢。” “是吗？怎么，我从来没见过比她更温柔、更讨人喜欢的姑娘了。” “那是平静的水面，”塔茨伯利说。“我警告你。”