Chapter 52_董贝父子 Dombey and Son(Charles Dickens查尔斯·狄更斯)

Chapter 52

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secret intelligence

what is the proud man doing, while the days go by? does he ever think of his daughter, or wonder where she is gone? does he suppose she has come home, and is leading her old life in the weary house? no one can answer for him. he has never uttered her name, since. his household dread him too much to approach a subject on which he is resolutely dumb; and the only person who dares question him, he silences immediately.

'my dear paul!' murmurs his sister, sidling into the room, on the day of florence's departure, 'your wife! that upstart woman! is it possible that what i hear confusedly, is true, and that this is her return for your unparalleled devotion to her; extending, i am sure, even to the sacrifice of your own relations, to her caprices and haughtiness? my poor brother!'

with this speech feelingly reminiscent of her not having been asked to dinner on the day of the first party, mrs chick makes great use of her pocket-handkerchief, and falls on mr dombey's neck. but mr dombey frigidly lifts her off, and hands her to a chair.

'i thank you, louisa,' he says, 'for this mark of your affection; but desire that our conversation may refer to any other subject. when i bewail my fate, louisa, or express myself as being in want of consolation, you can offer it, if you will have the goodness.'

'my dear paul,' rejoins his sister, with her handkerchief to her face, and shaking her head, 'i know your great spirit, and will say no more upon a theme so painful and revolting;' on the heads of which two adjectives, mrs chick visits scathing indignation; 'but pray let me ask you - though i dread to hear something that will shock and distress me - that unfortunate child florence -

'louisa!' says her brother, sternly, 'silence! not another word of this!'

mrs chick can only shake her head, and use her handkerchief, and moan over degenerate dombeys, who are no dombeys. but whether florence has been inculpated in the flight of edith, or has followed her, or has done too much, or too little, or anything, or nothing, she has not the least idea.

he goes on, without deviation, keeping his thoughts and feelings close within his own breast, and imparting them to no one. he makes no search for his daughter. he may think that she is with his sister, or that she is under his own roof. he may think of her constantly, or he may never think about her. it is all one for any sign he makes.

but this is sure; he does not think that he has lost her. he has no suspicion of the truth. he has lived too long shut up in his towering supremacy, seeing her, a patient gentle creature, in the path below it, to have any fear of that. shaken as he is by his disgrace, he is not yet humbled to the level earth. the root is broad and deep, and in the course of years its fibres have spread out and gathered nourishment from everything around it. the tree is struck, but not down.

though he hide the world within him from the world without - which he believes has but one purpose for the time, and that, to watch him eagerly wherever he goes - he cannot hide those rebel traces of it, which escape in hollow eyes and cheeks, a haggard forehead, and a moody, brooding air. impenetrable as before, he is still an altered man; and, proud as ever, he is humbled, or those marks would not be there.

the world. what the world thinks of him, how it looks at him, what it sees in him, and what it says - this is the haunting demon of his mind. it is everywhere where he is; and, worse than that, it is everywhere where he is not. it comes out with him among his servants, and yet he leaves it whispering behind; he sees it pointing after him in the street; it is waiting for him in his counting-house; it leers over the shoulders of rich men among the merchants; it goes beckoning and babbling among the crowd; it always anticipates him, in every place; and is always busiest, he knows, when he has gone away. when he is shut up in his room at night, it is in his house, outside it, audible in footsteps on the pavement, visible in print upon the table, steaming to and fro on railroads and in ships; restless and busy everywhere, with nothing else but him.

it is not a phantom of his imagination. it is as active in other people's minds as in his. witness cousin feenix, who comes from baden-baden, purposely to talk to him. witness major bagstock, who accompanies cousin feenix on that friendly mission.

mr dombey receives them with his usual dignity, and stands erect, in his old attitude, before the fire. he feels that the world is looking at him out of their eyes. that it is in the stare of the pictures. that mr pitt, upon the bookcase, represents it. that there are eyes in its own map, hanging on the wall.

'an unusually cold spring,' says mr dombey - to deceive the world.

'damme, sir,' says the major, in the warmth of friendship, 'joseph bagstock is a bad hand at a counterfeit. if you want to hold your friends off, dombey, and to give them the cold shoulder, j. b. is not the man for your purpose. joe is rough and tough, sir; blunt, sir, blunt, is joe. his royal highness the late duke of york did me the honour to say, deservedly or undeservedly - never mind that - "if there is a man in the service on whom i can depend for coming to the point, that man is joe - joe bagstock."'

mr dombey intimates his acquiescence.

'now, dombey,' says the major, 'i am a man of the world. our friend feenix - if i may presume to - '

'honoured, i am sure,' says cousin feenix.

' - is,' proceeds the major, with a wag of his head, 'also a man of the world. dombey, you are a man of the world. now, when three men of the world meet together, and are friends - as i believe - ' again appealing to cousin feenix.

'i am sure,' says cousin feenix, 'most friendly.'

' - and are friends,' resumes the major, 'old joe's opinion is (i may be wrong), that the opinion of the world on any particular subject, is very easily got at.

'undoubtedly,' says cousin feenix. 'in point of fact, it's quite a self-evident sort of thing. i am extremely anxious, major, that my friend dombey should hear me express my very great astonishment and regret, that my lovely and accomplished relative, who was possessed of every qualification to make a man happy, should have so far forgotten what was due to - in point of fact, to the world - as to commit herself in such a very extraordinary manner. i have been in a devilish state of depression ever since; and said indeed to long saxby last night - man of six foot ten, with whom my friend dombey is probably acquainted - that it had upset me in a confounded way, and made me bilious. it induces a man to reflect, this kind of fatal catastrophe,' says cousin feenix, 'that events do occur in quite a providential manner; for if my aunt had been living at the time, i think the effect upon a devilish lively woman like herself, would have been prostration, and that she would have fallen, in point of fact, a victim.'

'now, dombey! - ' says the major, resuming his discourse with great energy.

'i beg your pardon,' interposes cousin feenix. 'allow me another word. my friend dombey will permit me to say, that if any circumstance could have added to the most infernal state of pain in which i find myself on this occasion, it would be the natural amazement of the world at my lovely and accomplished relative (as i must still beg leave to call her) being supposed to have so committed herself with a person - man with white teeth, in point of fact - of very inferior station to her husband. but while i must, rather peremptorily, request my friend dombey not to criminate my lovely and accomplished relative until her criminality is perfectly established, i beg to assure my friend dombey that the family i represent, and which is now almost extinct (devilish sad reflection for a man), will interpose no obstacle in his way, and will be happy to assent to any honourable course of proceeding, with a view to the future, that he may point out. i trust my friend dombey will give me credit for the intentions by which i am animated in this very melancholy affair, and - a - in point of fact, i am not aware that i need trouble my friend dombey with any further observations.'

mr dombey bows, without raising his eyes, and is silent.

'now, dombey,' says the major, 'our friend feenix having, with an amount of eloquence that old joe b. has never heard surpassed - no, by the lord, sir! never!' - says the major, very blue, indeed, and grasping his cane in the middle - 'stated the case as regards the lady, i shall presume upon our friendship, dombey, to offer a word on another aspect of it. sir,' says the major, with the horse's cough, 'the world in these things has opinions, which must be satisfied.'

'i know it,' rejoins mr dombey.

'of course you know it, dombey,' says the major, 'damme, sir, i know you know it. a man of your calibre is not likely to be ignorant of it.'

'i hope not,' replies mr dombey.

'dombey!' says the major, 'you will guess the rest. i speak out - prematurely, perhaps - because the bagstock breed have always spoke out. little, sir, have they ever got by doing it; but it's in the bagstock blood. a shot is to be taken at this man. you have j. b. at your elbow. he claims the name of friend. god bless you!'

'major,' returns mr dombey, 'i am obliged. i shall put myself in your hands when the time comes. the time not being come, i have forborne to speak to you.'

'where is the fellow, dombey?' inquires the major, after gasping and looking at him, for a minute.

'i don't know.'

'any intelligence of him?' asks the major.

'yes.'

'dombey, i am rejoiced to hear it,' says the major. 'i congratulate you.'

'you will excuse - even you, major,' replies mr dombey, 'my entering into any further detail at present. the intelligence is of a singular kind, and singularly obtained. it may turn out to be valueless; it may turn out to be true; i cannot say at present. my explanation must stop here.'

although this is but a dry reply to the major's purple enthusiasm, the major receives it graciously, and is delighted to think that the world has such a fair prospect of soon receiving its due. cousin feenix is then presented with his meed of acknowledgment by the husband of his lovely and accomplished relative, and cousin feenix and major bagstock retire, leaving that husband to the world again, and to ponder at leisure on their representation of its state of mind concerning his affairs, and on its just and reasonable expectations.

but who sits in the housekeeper's room, shedding tears, and talking to mrs pipchin in a low tone, with uplifted hands? it is a lady with her face concealed in a very close black bonnet, which appears not to belong to her. it is miss tox, who has borrowed this disguise from her servant, and comes from princess's place, thus secretly, to revive her old acquaintance with mrs pipchin, in order to get certain information of the state of mr dombey.

'how does he bear it, my dear creature?' asks miss tox.

'well,' says mrs pipchin, in her snappish way, 'he's pretty much as usual.'

'externally,' suggests miss tox 'but what he feels within!'

mrs pipchin's hard grey eye looks doubtful as she answers, in three distinct jerks, 'ah! perhaps. i suppose so.'

'to tell you my mind, lucretia,' says mrs pipchin; she still calls miss tox lucretia, on account of having made her first experiments in the child-quelling line of business on that lady, when an unfortunate and weazen little girl of tender years; 'to tell you my mind, lucretia, i think it's a good riddance. i don't want any of your brazen faces here, myself!'

'brazen indeed! well may you say brazen, mrs pipchin!' returned miss tox. 'to leave him! such a noble figure of a man!' and here miss tox is overcome.

'i don't know about noble, i'm sure,' observes mrs pipchin; irascibly rubbing her nose. 'but i know this - that when people meet with trials, they must bear 'em. hoity, toity! i have had enough to bear myself, in my time! what a fuss there is! she's gone, and well got rid of. nobody wants her back, i should think!' this hint of the peruvian mines, causes miss tox to rise to go away; when mrs pipchin rings the bell for towlinson to show her out, mr towlinson, not having seen miss tox for ages, grins, and hopes she's well; observing that he didn't know her at first, in that bonnet.

'pretty well, towlinson, i thank you,' says miss tox. 'i beg you'll have the goodness, when you happen to see me here, not to mention it. my visits are merely to mrs pipchin.'

'very good, miss,' says towlinson.

'shocking circumstances occur, towlinson,' says miss tox.

'very much so indeed, miss,' rejoins towlinson.

'i hope, towlinson,' says miss tox, who, in her instruction of the toodle family, has acquired an admonitorial tone, and a habit of improving passing occasions, 'that what has happened here, will be a warning to you, towlinson.'

'thank you, miss, i'm sure,' says towlinson.

he appears to be falling into a consideration of the manner in which this warning ought to operate in his particular case, when the vinegary mrs pipchin, suddenly stirring him up with a 'what are you doing? why don't you show the lady to the door?' he ushers miss tox forth. as she passes mr dombey's room, she shrinks into the inmost depths of the black bonnet, and walks, on tip-toe; and there is not another atom in the world which haunts him so, that feels such sorrow and solicitude about him, as miss tox takes out under the black bonnet into the street, and tries to carry home shadowed it from the newly-lighted lamps

but miss tox is not a part of mr dombey's world. she comes back every evening at dusk; adding clogs and an umbrella to the bonnet on wet nights; and bears the grins of towlinson, and the huffs and rebuffs of mrs pipchin, and all to ask how he does, and how he bears his misfortune: but she has nothing to do with mr dombey's world. exacting and harassing as ever, it goes on without her; and she, a by no means bright or particular star, moves in her little orbit in the corner of another system, and knows it quite well, and comes, and cries, and goes away, and is satisfied. verily miss tox is easier of satisfaction than the world that troubles mr dombey so much!

at the counting house, the clerks discuss the great disaster in all its lights and shades, but chiefly wonder who will get mr carker's place. they are generally of opinion that it will be shorn of some of its emoluments, and made uncomfortable by newly-devised checks and restrictions; and those who are beyond all hope of it are quite sure they would rather not have it, and don't at all envy the person for whom it may prove to be reserved. nothing like the prevailing sensation has existed in the counting house since mr dombey's little son died; but all such excitements there take a social, not to say a jovial turn, and lead to the cultivation of good fellowship. a reconciliation is established on this propitious occasion between the acknowledged wit of the counting house and an aspiring rival, with whom he has been at deadly feud for months; and a little dinner being proposed, in commemoration of their happily restored amity, takes place at a neighbouring tavern; the wit in the chair; the rival acting as vice-president. the orations following the removal of the cloth are opened by the chair, who says, gentlemen, he can't disguise from himself that this is not a time for private dissensions. recent occurrences to which he need not more particularly allude, but which have not been altogether without notice in some sunday papers,' and in a daily paper which he need not name (here every other member of the company names it in an audible murmur), have caused him to reflect; and he feels that for him and robinson to have any personal differences at such a moment, would be for ever to deny that good feeling in the general cause, for which he has reason to think and hope that the gentlemen in dombey's house have always been distinguished. robinson replies to this like a man and a brother; and one gentleman who has been in the office three years, under continual notice to quit on account of lapses in his arithmetic, appears in a perfectly new light, suddenly bursting out with a thrilling speech, in which he says, may their respected chief never again know the desolation which has fallen on his hearth! and says a great variety of things, beginning with 'may he never again,' which are received with thunders of applause. in short, a most delightful evening is passed, only interrupted by a difference between two juniors, who, quarrelling about the probable amount of mr carker's late receipts per annum, defy each other with decanters, and are taken out greatly excited. soda water is in general request at the office next day, and most of the party deem the bill an imposition.

as to perch, the messenger, he is in a fair way of being ruined for life. he finds himself again constantly in bars of public-houses, being treated and lying dreadfully. it appears that he met everybody concerned in the late transaction, everywhere, and said to them, 'sir,' or 'madam,' as the case was, 'why do you look so pale?' at which each shuddered from head to foot, and said, 'oh, perch!' and ran away. either the consciousness of these enormities, or the reaction consequent on liquor, reduces mr perch to an extreme state of low spirits at that hour of the evening when he usually seeks consolation in the society of mrs perch at balls pond; and mrs perch frets a good deal, for she fears his confidence in woman is shaken now, and that he half expects on coming home at night to find her gone off with some viscount - 'which,' as she observes to an intimate female friend, 'is what these wretches in the form of woman have to answer for, mrs p. it ain't the harm they do themselves so much as what they reflect upon us, ma'am; and i see it in perch's eye.

mr dombey's servants are becoming, at the same time, quite dissipated, and unfit for other service. they have hot suppers every night, and 'talk it over' with smoking drinks upon the board. mr towlinson is always maudlin after half-past ten, and frequently begs to know whether he didn't say that no good would ever come of living in a corner house? they whisper about miss florence, and wonder where she is; but agree that if mr dombey don't know, mrs dombey does. this brings them to the latter, of whom cook says, she had a stately way though, hadn't she? but she was too high! they all agree that she was too high, and mr towlinson's old flame, the housemaid (who is very virtuous), entreats that you will never talk to her any more about people who hold their heads up, as if the ground wasn't good enough for 'em.

everything that is said and done about it, except by mr dombey, is done in chorus. mr dombey and the world are alone together.

'misses brown,' urged the tormented grinder, 'i didn't mean to - oh, what a thing it is for a cove to get into such a line as this! - i was only careful of talking, misses brown, because i always am, on account of his being up to everything; but i might have known it wouldn't have gone any further. i'm sure i'm quite agreeable,' with a wretched face, 'for any little bit of gossip, misses brown. don't go on like this, if you please. oh, couldn't you have the goodness to put in a word for a miserable cove, here?' said the grinder, appealing in desperation to the daughter.

'come, mother, you hear what he says,' she interposed, in her stern voice, and with an impatient action of her head; 'try him once more, and if you fall out with him again, ruin him, if you like, and have done with him.'

mrs brown, moved as it seemed by this very tender exhortation, presently began to howl; and softening by degrees, took the apologetic grinder to her arms, who embraced her with a face of unutterable woe, and like a victim as he was, resumed his former seat, close by the side of his venerable friend, whom he suffered, not without much constrained sweetness of countenance, combating very expressive physiognomical revelations of an opposite character to draw his arm through hers, and keep it there.

'and how's master, deary dear?' said mrs brown, when, sitting in this amicable posture, they had pledged each other.

'hush! if you'd be so good, misses brown, as to speak a little lower,' rob implored. 'why, he's pretty well, thank'ee, i suppose.'

'you're not out of place, robby?' said mrs brown, in a wheedling tone.

'why, i'm not exactly out of place, nor in,' faltered rob. 'i - i'm still in pay, misses brown.'

'and nothing to do, rob?'

'nothing particular to do just now, misses brown, but to - keep my eyes open, said the grinder, rolling them in a forlorn way.

'master abroad, rob?'

'oh, for goodness' sake, misses brown, couldn't you gossip with a cove about anything else?' cried the grinder, in a burst of despair.

the impetuous mrs brown rising directly, the tortured grinder detained her, stammering 'ye-es, misses brown, i believe he's abroad. what's she staring at?' he added, in allusion to the daughter, whose eyes were fixed upon the face that now again looked out behind

'don't mind her, lad,' said the old woman, holding him closer to prevent his turning round. 'it's her way - her way. tell me, rob. did you ever see the lady, deary?'

'oh, misses brown, what lady?' cried the grinder in a tone of piteous supplication.

'what lady?' she retorted. 'the lady; mrs dombey.'

'yes, i believe i see her once,' replied rob.

'the night she went away, robby, eh?' said the old woman in his ear, and taking note of every change in his face. 'aha! i know it was that night.'

'well, if you know it was that night, you know, misses brown,' replied rob, 'it's no use putting pinchers into a cove to make him say so.

'where did they go that night, rob? straight away? how did they go? where did you see her? did she laugh? did she cry? tell me all about it,' cried the old hag, holding him closer yet, patting the hand that was drawn through his arm against her other hand, and searching every line in his face with her bleared eyes. 'come! begin! i want to be told all about it. what, rob, boy! you and me can keep a secret together, eh? we've done so before now. where did they go first, rob?'

the wretched grinder made a gasp, and a pause.

'are you dumb?' said the old woman, angrily.

'lord, misses brown, no! you expect a cove to be a flash of lightning. i wish i was the electric fluency,' muttered the bewildered grinder. 'i'd have a shock at somebody, that would settle their business.'

'what do you say?' asked the old woman, with a grin.

'i'm wishing my love to you, misses brown,' returned the false rob, seeking consolation in the glass. 'where did they go to first was it? him and her, do you mean?'

'ah!' said the old woman, eagerly. 'them two.'

'why, they didn't go nowhere - not together, i mean,' answered rob.

the old woman looked at him, as though she had a strong impulse upon her to make another clutch at his head and throat, but was restrained by a certain dogged mystery in his face.

'that was the art of it,' said the reluctant grinder; 'that's the way nobody saw 'em go, or has been able to say how they did go. they went different ways, i tell you misses brown.

'ay, ay, ay! to meet at an appointed place,' chuckled the old woman, after a moment's silent and keen scrutiny of his face.

'why, if they weren't a going to meet somewhere, i suppose they might as well have stayed at home, mightn't they, brown?' returned the unwilling grinder.

'well, rob? well?' said the old woman, drawing his arm yet tighter through her own, as if, in her eagerness, she were afraid of his slipping away.

'what, haven't we talked enough yet, misses brown?' returned the grinder, who, between his sense of injury, his sense of liquor, and his sense of being on the rack, had become so lachrymose, that at almost every answer he scooped his coats into one or other of his eyes, and uttered an unavailing whine of remonstrance. 'did she laugh that night, was it? didn't you ask if she laughed, misses brown?'

'or cried?' added the old woman, nodding assent.

'neither,' said the grinder. 'she kept as steady when she and me - oh, i see you will have it out of me, misses brown! but take your solemn oath now, that you'll never tell anybody.'

this mrs brown very readily did: being naturally jesuitical; and having no other intention in the matter than that her concealed visitor should hear for himself.

'she kept as steady, then, when she and me went down to southampton,' said the grinder, 'as a image. in the morning she was just the same, misses brown. and when she went away in the packet before daylight, by herself - me pretending to be her servant, and seeing her safe aboard - she was just the same. now, are you contented, misses brown?'

'no, rob. not yet,' answered mrs brown, decisively.

'oh, here's a woman for you!' cried the unfortunate rob, in an outburst of feeble lamentation over his own helplessness.

'what did you wish to know next, misses brown?'

'what became of master? where did he go?' she inquired, still holding him tight, and looking close into his face, with her sharp eyes.

'upon my soul, i don't know, misses brown,' answered rob.

'upon my soul i don't know what he did, nor where he went, nor anything about him i only know what he said to me as a caution to hold my tongue, when we parted; and i tell you this, misses brown, as a friend, that sooner than ever repeat a word of what we're saying now, you had better take and shoot yourself, or shut yourself up in this house, and set it a-fire, for there's nothing he wouldn't do, to be revenged upon you. you don't know him half as well as i do, misses brown. you're never safe from him, i tell you.'

'haven't i taken an oath,' retorted the old woman, 'and won't i keep it?'

'well, i'm sure i hope you will, misses brown,' returned rob, somewhat doubtfully, and not without a latent threatening in his manner. 'for your own sake, quite as much as mine'

he looked at her as he gave her this friendly caution, and emphasized it with a nodding of his head; but finding it uncomfortable to encounter the yellow face with its grotesque action, and the ferret eyes with their keen old wintry gaze, so close to his own, he looked down uneasily and sat skulking in his chair, as if he were trying to bring himself to a sullen declaration that he would answer no more questions. the old woman, still holding him as before, took this opportunity of raising the forefinger of her right hand, in the air, as a stealthy signal to the concealed observer to give particular attention to what was about to follow.

'rob,' she said, in her most coaxing tone.

'good gracious, misses brown, what's the matter now?' returned the exasperated grinder.

'rob! where did the lady and master appoint to meet?'

rob shuffled more and more, and looked up and looked down, and bit his thumb, and dried it on his waistcoat, and finally said, eyeing his tormentor askance, 'how should i know, misses brown?'

the old woman held up her finger again, as before, and replying, 'come, lad! it's no use leading me to that, and there leaving me. i want to know' waited for his answer. rob, after a discomfited pause, suddenly broke out with, 'how can i pronounce the names of foreign places, mrs brown? what an unreasonable woman you are!'

'but you have heard it said, robby,' she retorted firmly, 'and you know what it sounded like. come!'

'i never heard it said, misses brown,' returned the grinder.

'then,' retorted the old woman quickly, 'you have seen it written, and you can spell it.'

rob, with a petulant exclamation between laughing and crying - for he was penetrated with some admiration of mrs brown's cunning, even through this persecution - after some reluctant fumbling in his waistcoat pocket, produced from it a little piece of chalk. the old woman's eyes sparkled when she saw it between his thumb and finger, and hastily clearing a space on the deal table, that he might write the word there, she once more made her signal with a shaking hand.

'now i tell you beforehand what it is, misses brown,' said rob, 'it's no use asking me anything else. i won't answer anything else; i can't. how long it was to be before they met, or whose plan it was that they was to go away alone, i don't know no more than you do. i don't know any more about it. if i was to tell you how i found out this word, you'd believe that. shall i tell you, misses brown?'

'yes, rob.'

'well then, misses brown. the way - now you won't ask any more, you know?' said rob, turning his eyes, which were now fast getting drowsy and stupid, upon her.

'not another word,' said mrs brown.

'well then, the way was this. when a certain person left the lady with me, he put a piece of paper with a direction written on it in the lady's hand, saying it was in case she should forget. she wasn't afraid of forgetting, for she tore it up as soon as his back was turned, and when i put up the carriage steps, i shook out one of the pieces - she sprinkled the rest out of the window, i suppose, for there was none there afterwards, though i looked for 'em. there was only one word on it, and that was this, if you must and will know. but remember! you're upon your oath, misses brown!'

mrs brown knew that, she said. rob, having nothing more to say, began to chalk, slowly and laboriously, on the table.

'"d,"' the old woman read aloud, when he had formed the letter.

'will you hold your tongue, misses brown?' he exclaimed, covering it with his hand, and turning impatiently upon her. 'i won't have it read out. be quiet, will you!'

'then write large, rob,' she returned, repeating her secret signal; 'for my eyes are not good, even at print.'

muttering to himself, and returning to his work with an ill will, rob went on with the word. as he bent his head down, the person for whose information he so unconsciously laboured, moved from the door behind him to within a short stride of his shoulder, and looked eagerly towards the creeping track of his hand upon the table. at the same time, alice, from her opposite chair, watched it narrowly as it shaped the letters, and repeated each one on her lips as he made it, without articulating it aloud. at the end of every letter her eyes and mr dombey's met, as if each of them sought to be confirmed by the other; and thus they both spelt d.i.j.o.n.

'there!' said the grinder, moistening the palm of his hand hastily, to obliterate the word; and not content with smearing it out, rubbing and planing all trace of it away with his coat-sleeve, until the very colour of the chalk was gone from the table. 'now, i hope you're contented, misses brown!'

the old woman, in token of her being so, released his arm and patted his back; and the grinder, overcome with mortification, cross-examination, and liquor, folded his arms on the table, laid his head upon them, and fell asleep.

not until he had been heavily asleep some time, and was snoring roundly, did the old woman turn towards the door where mr dombey stood concealed, and beckon him to come through the room, and pass out. even then, she hovered over rob, ready to blind him with her hands, or strike his head down, if he should raise it while the secret step was crossing to the door. but though her glance took sharp cognizance of the sleeper, it was sharp too for the waking man; and when he touched her hand with his, and in spite of all his caution, made a chinking, golden sound, it was as bright and greedy as a raven's.

the daughter's dark gaze followed him to the door, and noted well how pale he was, and how his hurried tread indicated that the least delay was an insupportable restraint upon him, and how he was burning to be active and away. as he closed the door behind him, she looked round at her mother. the old woman trotted to her; opened her hand to show what was within; and, tightly closing it again in her jealousy and avarice, whispered:

'what will he do, ally?'

'mischief,' said the daughter.

'murder?' asked the old woman.

'he's a madman, in his wounded pride, and may do that, for anything we can say, or he either.'

her glance was brighter than her mother's, and the fire that shone in it was fiercer; but her face was colourless, even to her lips

they said no more, but sat apart; the mother communing with her money; the daughter with her thoughts; the glance of each, shining in the gloom of the feebly lighted room. rob slept and snored. the disregarded parrot only was in action. it twisted and pulled at the wires of its cage, with its crooked beak, and crawled up to the dome, and along its roof like a fly, and down again head foremost, and shook, and bit, and rattled at every slender bar, as if it knew its master's danger, and was wild to force a passage out, and fly away to warn him of it.

善良的布朗太太和她的女儿艾丽斯两个人一起默默无言地坐在她们自己的住所中。这是暮春季节，黄昏刚刚降临。董贝先生跟白格斯托克少校说到他用奇怪的方式得到的奇怪的消息也许毫无价值，但也许是真实的，从那时以来，才过去几天；上流社会仍然没有得到满足。

母亲和女儿长久地坐在那里，没有交谈过一句话，几乎身子也没有动过。老太婆的脸上露出狡猾的、焦急的与期待的神色；女儿的脸上也露出期待的神色，只是在程度上不那么强烈，有时仿佛由于逐渐感到失望与怀疑的缘故，脸色阴沉下来。老太婆虽然不时朝她脸上看看，但并没有注意到她表情上的这些变化，她坐在那里嘟囔着，大声咀嚼着，并满怀信心地倾听着。

她们的住所虽然简陋、可怜，但毕竟不像布朗太太独自居住的时候那样极端的破旧、肮脏；房间已被稍稍收拾过，虽然收拾得马虎、潦草，就像吉普赛人那样，但显然是想让它干净一些，有条理一些；只要看一眼，就可以知道，这些都是那位年轻女人干的。当两人保持着沉默的时候，暮色愈来愈浓，愈来愈深，最后，发黑的墙壁几乎已隐没在一片幽暗之中。

这时候，艾丽斯打破了持续长久的沉默，说道：

“你别等他了，妈妈。他不会到这里来的。”

“我才不死心！”老太婆不耐烦地回答道。“他·会来的。”

“我们瞧吧，”艾丽斯说道。

“我们将会看见·他，”母亲回答道。

“在世界末日，”女儿说道。

“我知道，你以为我又成了不懂事的孩子了！”老太婆用哭丧的说道。“这就是我从我亲生女儿那里得到的尊敬与孝顺，可是我要比你想的聪明一些。他会来的。那天我在街上碰到他的外衣的时候，他回过头来看我，仿佛我是只癞蛤蟆似的。可是我的天主，当我说起他们的名字，问他是不是想查出他们在哪里的时候，你看他那副脸色呀！”

“是不是很生气？”她的女儿问道，一下子产生了兴趣。

“生气？你最好还是问他是不是火冒三丈。用这个词儿来说还差不离。生气？哈哈！那副脸色还能仅仅说是生气吗！”老太婆一拐一拐地走到碗柜跟前，点了一支蜡烛；当她把它拿到桌子上来的时候，烛光把她嘴巴难看的动作照得清清楚楚。“如果能那样说的话，那么我也可以把你想到或说到他们时的脸色说成仅仅是生气了。”

确实，当艾丽斯像一只蹲伏着的母老虎那样安静地坐在那里，眼睛里冒着火星的时候，她的脸色是跟生气有些不相同的。

“听！”老太婆得意地说道。“我听到走来的脚步声。这不是附近居民或常走这条路的人的步子。我们不是那样走的。要有这样的邻居，我们可真要感到自豪了！你听到他了吗？”“我想你是对的，妈妈，”艾丽斯低声回答道。“别说话了！

去开门。”

当老太婆披上披肩、紧紧地裹住身子的时候，她照她女儿的话去做了；她往门外探望了一下，招了招手，让董贝先生进来。董贝先生刚把一只脚伸进门槛，就站住了，并怀疑地向四下里瞧瞧。

“对像您阁下这样尊贵的先生来说，这是个可怜的地方，”老太婆行着屈膝礼，唠唠叨叨地说道，“这我已告诉过您了，不过这里没有任何危险。”

“她是谁？”董贝先生看着她同屋里的人，问道。

“这是我漂亮的女儿，”老太婆说道。“您阁下不要去管她。

这件事她全都知道。”

他的脸上罩上了一层阴影；如果他大声哼叫道，“谁还不全知道！”那么也不会比那层阴影所表露的意思更清楚；但是他凝视着她，她则望着他，没有向他表示任何问候。

当他的视线从她脸上移开的时候，他脸上的阴影更阴暗了；可是就是在这之后，他还是偷偷地又转回眼睛去看她，仿佛她的大胆的眼光吸引了他，勾引起他的一些什么回忆似的。

“女人！”董贝先生对丑老婆子说道，那丑老婆子在他身边吃吃地笑着，并斜眼看着；当他转过身子对着她的时候，她偷偷地指着她的女儿，搓着手，又重新指着她。“女人！我相信，我到这里来是表现了我的软弱，而且忘掉了我的身份；但是你知道，我是为什么到这里来的；还有，你那天在街上拦住我的时候，向我提出了什么建议。我想要知道的问题，你究竟有什么要对我说的？当我运用了我的权势和钱财，却徒劳无益，依然得不到消息的时候，却有人自愿到这样一所简陋的茅屋里来向我通风报信，这又是怎么一回事？”他轻蔑地向四周看了一眼，“我想，”他沉默了一会儿，并在这段时间里严厉地观察了她之后，继续说道，“你不至于放肆到竟来开我的玩笑，或者想来欺骗我吧。不过如果你有这种意图的话，那么你最好一开始就放弃它。我不是个随便让人开玩笑的人，我的惩罚将是严厉的。”

“啊，多么高傲、冷酷的先生！”老太婆摇着头，搓着布满皱纹的手，并吃吃地笑着，说道，“啊，冷酷哪，冷酷哪，冷酷哪！可是您阁下将亲耳听到，亲眼看到，而不是通过我们的耳朵和眼睛——可是如果向您阁下指出寻找他们的线索的话，那么您将不会拒绝支付一点儿报酬吧，是不是的，尊敬的先生？”

“我知道，金钱会创造奇迹，”董贝先生回答道，他显然由于她提出这个问题而感到宽慰和放心，“它能把像这样一些出乎意料之外、似乎没有什么希望的手段也利用起来。好的。对于我所收到的任何可靠的情报，我都将支付报酬。但是，我必须首先得到情报，然后再由我来判断它的价值。”

“您不知道有比金钱更有力量的东西吗？”年轻的女人问道；她没有站起身来，也没有改变她的姿势。

“我想这里没有，”董贝先生说道。

“照我看来，您应当知道在别的地方有更有力量的东西，”

她回答道，“您知道女人的愤怒吗？”

“你的嘴不懂礼貌，轻佻的女人，”董贝先生说道。

“不是经常这样，”她不动任何感情地回答道，“我现在对您说，是为了使您能更好地了解我们，更加信任我们。一个女人的愤怒在这里就跟在您豪华的公馆里一样。我愤怒。我已经愤怒了好多年。我的愤怒就像您的愤怒一样，具有充足的理由。我们两人愤怒的对象是同一个人。”

他不由自主地吃了一惊，诧异地看着她。

“是的，”她冷笑了一下，说道。“虽然我们之间的距离很大，然而实际情况却就是这样。为什么会发生这种情况，这是无关紧要的；这涉及我的经历，我不打算去谈它。我将愿意把您和他带到一起，因为我痛恨他。我的母亲是贪婪和穷苦的；为了钱，她会出卖她能探听到的任何消息，她会出卖任何东西，任何人。如果她能帮助您知道您想要知道的消息，您就给她一点报酬，这也许是很公平合理的。但这不是我的动机、我已经告诉您，我的动机是什么；对我来说，这个动机是强烈的，本身就已足够的；即使您跟她为了六便士讨价还价，争执不休，我也不会放弃。我已说完了我想说的一切。我这不懂礼貌的嘴不再说什么了，哪怕您在这里等到明天太阳升起我也不说了。”

老太婆在她女儿讲话的时候，表露出极大的不安，因为它有使她期望得到的利益贬值的趋向。她轻轻地拉着董贝先生的袖子，低声对他说，别去理会她。他形容憔悴，轮流地看着她们两人，并用一种比平时更深沉的说道：

“继续说下去吧，你们知道什么？”

“哦，没有这么快，阁下！我们必须等一个人来，”老太婆回答道。“必须从另一个人那里得到这消息——从他那里慢慢探听出来——用厉害的手段逼他说出来和绕着弯儿把他的话哄骗出来。”

“你这话是什么意思？”董贝先生问道。

“耐心一点！”她用乌鸦般哭丧的说道，一边把一只手像爪子似地搁在他的胳膊上。“耐心一点！我会得到它的。我知道我能得到的！如果他想瞒住我的话，”善良的布朗太太弯起十只手指，说道，“那么我将把它从他嘴巴里掏出来！”

她一拐一拐地走到门口，又向外面看看，董贝先生的眼光一直跟随着她，然后他的眼光转向她的女儿；但是她仍旧冷淡、沉默，不理会他。

“女人，你是不是想跟我说，”当弯腰曲背的布朗太太摇着头，一边喋喋不休地自言自语着走回来的时候，他说道，“还有一个人要到这里来，我们正等着他？”

“是的，”老太婆仰起头来望着他的脸，点点头，说道。

“你打算从他那里探听出对我有用的消息吗？”

“是的，”老太婆又点点头，说道。

“一个我不认识的人？”

“咄！”老太婆尖声地大笑了一声，说道。“这有什么关系呢！唔，唔，不是您不认识的人。可是他将不跟您见面。要是见了您，他将会害怕，不肯说出来。您将站在门后面，由您自己来判断他讲的话，我们并不要求您不加考察地就相信我们。怎么！您阁下对门后面的房间怀疑吗？啊！你们这些有钱的先生真是多疑呀！那就请去看看它吧。”

她的敏锐的眼睛已经觉察出他在脸上无意间表露出来的这种神情，在当前的情况下这也是很自然的。为了消除他的怀疑，让他放心，她就拿着蜡烛走到她所说的门口。董贝先生往里看了看，看清那是个空空的、破烂的房间，于是做了个手势，要她把蜡烛拿回到原来的地方去。

“这个人多久才来？”他问道。

“不会多久，”她回答道。“您阁下是不是请坐几分钟？”

他没有回答；但开始以犹豫不决的神态在房间里来回踱起步子来，仿佛他打不定主意，究竟是留在这里呢还是离开这里，又仿佛他在心中责怪自己，根本不该到这里来。但是不久他的步子愈来愈慢，愈来愈重，他的脸上愈来愈显出严峻的、沉思的神色，因为他来到这里的目的又重新占据他的心头，并在那里扩展开来。

当他低垂着眼睛，这样走来走去的时候，布朗太太又坐到刚才她站起来去迎接他的那张椅子中，重新倾听着。他那单调的脚步声，或者是她那无法说准的年龄，使她的听觉变得十分迟钝，因此门外的脚步声几秒钟以前就已传入她的女儿的耳朵里，她已急忙抬起头来提醒她母亲注意它已临近了，老太婆这才被它惊醒过来；但在这之后她立即从坐位中跳了起来，低声说了句“他来了！”，就急急忙忙把他的客人推到他的观察哨位上去，然后手脚十分麻利地在桌子上摆了一瓶酒和一只杯子，因此当磨工罗布一在门口出现的时候，她就能立刻伸出胳膊，搂住他的脖子。

“我的好孩子终于来啦！”布朗太太喊道，“哦嗬，哦嗬！

你就像我亲生的儿子一样，罗贝！”

“啊，布朗太太！”磨工抗议道。“别这样！您喜欢一个小伙子，难道就非得把他抱得这么紧，并掐住他的脖子不成？请您留心我手里的鸟笼子，好不好？”

“他心里就只想着鸟笼子，而没有想到我！”老太婆对着天花板喊道。“而我比他的亲妈妈还疼他！”

“唔，说真的，我很感谢您，布朗太太，”不幸的年轻人十分恼火地说道；“可是您对一个小伙子太妒嫉了！当然我是很喜欢您的，可是我并没有掐过您的脖子，让您透不过气来呀，是不是，布朗太太？”

他讲这些话的时候，脸上露出的神色却仿佛是，如果真有这样一个有利的机会的话，那么他是决不会反对这样做的。

“您也谈到了鸟笼子！”磨工呜咽着说道，“仿佛这是桩罪恶似的！喂，您看这里！您知道这是属于谁的？”

“属于您的主人，是不是，亲爱的？”老太婆咧开嘴笑着说道。

“是的，”磨工回答道，一边把一只用包袱牢牢包扎起来的大鸟笼子提到桌子上，用牙齿和手去解开它。“这是我们的鹦鹉。”

“卡克先生的鹦鹉吗，罗布？”

“您住嘴好不好，布朗太太？”被惹得生气的磨工回答道。

“您为什么要指名道姓？”罗布说道，他在恼怒之中用双手拽着他的头发，“她非把一个小伙子逼疯不可！”

“什么！你责骂起我来了，你这个忘恩负义的孩子！”老太婆立即发怒地喊道。

“哎呀，布朗太太，别这样！”磨工眼中含着泪水，回答道。“谁在什么时候见过这样的——！我不是非常喜欢您吗，布朗太太？”

“是吗，亲爱的罗布？真是这样吗？我的小宝贝？”布朗太太一边说，一边又亲热地拥抱他，直到他用腿作了好多次激烈的、无效的挣扎、头发都一根根竖立起来以后，她才放开了他。

“哎呀！”磨工哼叫着，“真糟糕，心里喜爱，就这么使劲。

我真但愿她——您这一向好吗，布朗太太？”

“啊！你已有一个星期没有到这里来过了！”老太婆用责备的眼光看着他，说道。

“哎呀，布朗太太，”磨工回答道，“一个星期以前的晚上我对您说过，我今天晚上将到这里来，我是不是这样说过？现在我在这里了。您怎么还纠缠不休！我希望您稍稍讲道理一些，布朗太太。我为了给自己辩护，嗓子都讲嘶哑了，我的脸也被您抱得发出亮光来了。”他用袖子使劲地擦着脸，仿佛想把他讲到的亮光给擦去似的。

“喝一点儿，安慰安慰你自己吧，我的罗宾，”老太婆从瓶里倒出一杯，递给他，说道：

“谢谢您，布朗太太，”磨工回答道。“祝您健康！祝您长寿！等等。”从他脸上的表情来看，这并不是他最好的祝愿。

“现在祝她健康，”磨工向艾丽斯看了一眼，说道；他觉得，她的眼睛正凝视着他身后的墙壁，但实际上却是凝视着站在门后的董贝先生的脸，“并同样祝她长寿，以及许多其他等等的好事。”

他致了这两次祝酒词以后，把酒喝干了，然后把杯子放在桌子上。

“唔，我说，布朗太太！”他继续说道。“现在您得稍稍讲道理一些。您是鸟儿的行家，懂得它们的生活习惯，而我是付出了代价才懂得的。”

“代价！”布朗太太重复道。

“我是想说，使自己称心满意，”磨工回答道。“您为什么要打断一个小伙子的话头呢，布朗太太！您已经使一切东西都从我脑子里跑走了。”

“你刚才说到我是鸟儿的行家，罗贝，”老太婆提示道。

“啊，对了！”磨工说道。“我现在得照料这只鹦鹉——现在有些东西正在卖掉，有些产业不经营了，我现在没工夫去照料这鹦鹉，我希望您能照料它一个星期左右，喂养它，给它一个住处，您愿意吗？如果我必须来来回回到这里来的话，”罗布垂头丧气地沉思着，说道，“那么我也许是为了什么目的到这里来的。”

“为了什么目的到这里来？”老太婆高声叫道。

“我是想说，不光是为了来看您，布朗太太，”胆怯的罗布回答道，“其实，这并不是说，除了您本人以外，我还需要有到这里来的其他动机，布朗太太。请行行好，别再开始谈这了。”

“他不关心我！他不像我关心他那样关心我！”布朗太太举起皮包骨头的手，喊道，“但是我却要关心他的鸟。”

“您知道，您得好好地关心它才是，布朗太太，”罗布摇摇头，说道，“如果您弄伤了它的羽毛，哪怕弄伤了一次，我相信都是会被发觉的。”

“啊，他的眼睛那么敏锐吗，罗布！”布朗太太迅速地说道。

“敏锐，布朗太太，”罗布重复说道。“但是不能谈这一点。”

罗布突然停住不说，胆战心惊地向四周看了一眼，又把杯子倒满了，慢慢地把它喝干以后，摇摇头，开始用指头在鹦鹉笼子的金属丝上划着，想从刚刚提到的危险的话题上转开。

老太婆狡猾地注视着他，把她的椅子向他的椅子拉近一些，往笼子里看着鹦鹉（它听了她的呼唤，从镀金的圆形笼顶中走了下来），问道：

“你现在失业了吗，罗布？”

“这不关您的事，布朗太太，”罗布简短地回答道。

“也许你现在只领只够吃饭住宿的工资吧，罗布？”布朗太太问道。

“漂亮的鹦鹉！”磨工说道。

老太婆向他飞快地看了一眼，这本来可以警告他，他的耳朵已处于危险中了。可是现在轮到他往笼子里看着鹦鹉。虽然他可能生动地想象出她的怒容，但是他的肉眼却没有看见它。

“我觉得奇怪，你的主人竟没有带你跟他一起走，罗布，”老太婆用甜言蜜语的问道，但是她的脸色却变得更加怨恨了。

罗布专心一意地注视着鹦鹉，并用指头拨弄着金属丝，所以什么也没有回答。

他向桌子弯着身子，老太婆的手几乎就要抓到他蓬乱的头发了，可是她抑制住自己的手指，用一种由于想尽力讨取欢心而竟说不出话来的，说道：

“罗贝，我的孩子。”

“唔，布朗太太，”磨工回答道。

“我说，我觉得奇怪，你的主人竟没有带你跟他一起走，亲爱的。”

“这不关您的事，布朗太太，”磨工回答道。

布朗太太立即用右手揪住他的头发，左手卡住他的喉咙，勃然大怒地抓住了她宠爱的对象，使得他的脸色一下子发青了。

“布朗太太！”磨工高声喊道，“放开我，听见没有？您在干什么？帮帮我，年轻的女人！布朗太——布——！”

可是年轻的女人听到他向她直接发出的呼吁和他发音不清的话语，跟先前一样不动声色，继续保持完全中立，直到罗布跟他的对手挣扎搏斗之后，退到一个角落里，才脱了身，站在那里，喘着气，用胳膊肘防护着自己；老太婆也喘着气，又气又急地跺着脚，看来正在积蓄精力，以便重新向他猛扑过去。在这紧急关头，艾丽斯插进来说话，但却不是对磨工有利的。

“干得好，妈妈。把他撕得粉碎！”

“怎么，年轻的女人！”罗布哇哇地哭着说道；“您也反对我吗？我做了什么事啦？我想知道，为什么要把我撕得粉碎？一个小伙子从来没有伤害过你们两人当中任何一位，你们为什么要把他掐得气都透不过来？你们还有脸称自己是妇女呢！”恐惧与苦恼的磨工用袖口擦着眼睛，说道，“你们真叫我吃惊！你们妇女的温柔到哪里去了？”

“你这条忘恩负义的狗！”布朗太太气喘吁吁地说道。“你这条不要脸的、无礼的狗！”

“我干了什么事，冒犯了您什么啦，布朗太太？”害怕的罗布反驳道。“一分钟以前您还很喜欢我呢。”

“三言两语、爱理不理的回答，绷着面孔、很不高兴的讲话，你想用这来顶撞我，堵住我的嘴，”老太婆说道。“我！就因为我对他主人和那位夫人的一些传闻感到好奇，他竟胆敢对我耍滑头！可是我不打算跟你再谈什么了，我的孩子。现在走吧！”

“说实在的，布朗太太，”悲惨可怜的磨工回答道，“我从没有暗示过我想走。布朗太太，请别那么说吧。”

“我什么话都不说了，”布朗太太说道，一边把她弯曲的手指动了动，使得他在角落里蜷缩得只及原先体积的一半大小。“我不再跟他讲一个字。他是一条忘恩负义的狗。我跟他断绝关系。现在让他走吧！我将唆使那些能说会道、能痛骂他的人，那些他没法子摆脱的人，那些像蚂蟥一般叮住他不放的人，那些像狐狸一般悄悄跟随在他后面的人来对付他。可不！他知道他们。他明白他过去的把戏和他过去的生活方式。如果他已经把它们忘掉了的话，那么他们很快就会使他记起来。现在让他走吧，有这样一群伙伴来来回回地一直跟着他，看他将怎样去为他的主人效劳，怎样去保守他主人的秘密吧。哈，哈，哈！艾丽，虽然他对你和我把嘴巴封得严严的，滴水不漏，可是他将会发现，他们是跟你和我完全不同的一类人。现在让他走吧，现在让他走吧！”

弯腰曲背的老太婆开始绕着直径为四英尺左右的圈子，一圈一圈地踱起步来，一边不断重复说着这些话，同时在她头顶挥动着拳头，嘴巴在咀嚼着；磨工看到这种情形，感到无法形容的惊愕。

“布朗太太，”罗布从角落里稍稍走出一点，哀求着，“我相信，您平心静气地再想一想以后，是不会伤害一位小伙子的吧，是不是？”

“别跟我说话，”布朗太太继续怒气冲冲地绕着圈子走着，说道，“现在让他走吧，现在让他走吧！”

“布朗太太，”苦恼的磨工苦苦哀求道，“我并不是故意要——啊，何必要让一个小伙子遭受这样的苦难！——我只不过是说话小心谨慎罢了，布朗太太，就像我平时总是小心谨慎的一样，因为他是什么都能查问出来的。说实在的，布朗太太，我是很乐意聊聊天的，可是我必须要知道，它不会从这房间里再传出去才行。”他神色可怜地说道，“请别继续这样说。唉，难道您就不能行个好，给一位小伙子说一句好话吗？”磨工在绝望中向女儿呼吁道。

“喂，妈妈，你听到他的话了吧，”她不耐烦地晃了晃脑袋，用严厉的说道，“再试他一次；如果你跟他再闹翻的话，那么如果你愿意的话，就毁了他，跟他断绝关系。”

布朗太太似乎被这个十分亲切的劝告所打动，立刻开始嚎哭起来，然后逐渐平息下来，用胳膊搂着赔礼道歉的磨工，磨工露出一副难以形容的愁眉苦脸，拥抱了她，然后像一个受害者一样（实际情况也正是这样），重新坐到原先的位子上，紧紧地挨在他的尊敬的朋友的身旁，极为勉强地装出一副亲热的面容，但却十分明显地流露出绝然相反的感情；他听凭她把他的胳膊拉到她的胳膊里，不再放开。

“主人好吗，亲爱的宝贝？”当他们这样亲睦地坐在一起，已相互祝酒干杯之后，布朗太太问道。

“嘘！请您说得轻一点好不好，布朗太太？”罗布恳求道。

“唔，我想，他很好，谢谢您。”

“这么说你没有失业，罗布？”布朗太太用甜言蜜语的声调问道。

“唔，我不能完全说是失业，也不能说是就业，”罗布支支吾吾地说道。“我——我仍旧拿工资呢，布朗太太。”

“没有什么事情做吧，罗布？”

“现在没有什么特别的事情做，布朗太太，只不过是——

张开眼睛看看罢了，”磨工可怜地转了转眼睛。

“主人到国外去了吗，罗布？”

“哎呀，请做做好事吧，布朗太太，难道您跟一位小伙子不能聊点儿别的吗？”磨工突然绝望地喊道。

急躁的布朗太太立刻站起身来；被折磨的磨工拦住她，结结巴巴地说道，“是的，是的，布朗太太，我想他是在国外。她瞪着眼睛在看什么呀？”他最后一句话是指布朗太太的女儿说的；她的眼睛正凝视着站在他背后、现在又往外看的那张脸孔。

“别管她，孩子，”老太婆说道，一边把他往身边拉得更近一些，以防他转过头去看。“那是她的习惯——她的习惯。

告诉我，罗布。你看见过那位夫人吗，亲爱的？”

“哎呀，布朗太太，哪位夫人呀？”罗布用一种乞求怜悯的声调喊道。

“哪位夫人？”她反问道。“那位夫人；董贝夫人。”

“看见过，我想我看见过她一次，”罗布回答道。

“她是在那天夜里走的，是不是，罗布？”老太婆凑近他的耳朵，说道，同时密切注视着他脸上的各种变化。“哎嘿！

我知道是在那天夜里。”

“唔，如果您知道是在那天夜里，布朗太太，”罗布回答道，“那又何必要用钳子桶进一个小伙子的嘴巴里，逼着他说出这些话来呢？”

“那天夜里他们往哪里去了，罗布？直接去国外了？他们怎样去的？你在哪里看到她的？她笑了吗？她哭了吗？把一切都告诉我。”丑老婆子喊道，一边把他往身边拉得更近一些，同时把她伸进他胳膊里的那只手轻轻拍打着她另一只手，并用模糊的眼睛注视着他脸上的每一个特征。“喂，开始讲吧。我要求你把一切统统告诉我。罗布，我的孩子！你和我能共同保守秘密的，是不是？以前我们就这样保守过。他们首先往哪里去了，罗布？”

可怜的磨工喘了一口气，沉默了一会儿。

“你是哑巴吗？”老太婆发怒地说道。

“我的天主，布朗太太，我不是哑巴！您指望一个小伙子能像闪电一样迅速。我真巴不得我自己是电流，”左右为难的磨工嘟囔道，“这样我就可以往什么人身上冲击一下，使他们立刻完蛋。”

“你说什么？”老太婆咧开嘴巴笑着，问道。

“我正在向您祝愿：我爱您，布朗太太，”虚伪的罗布回答道，一边从酒杯中寻求安慰，“您问他们首先往哪里去，是不是？您是说他和她？”

“是的！”老太婆急切地说道，“他们两人。”

“唔，他们没有往哪里去——我是说，他们不是一起走的，”罗布回答道。

老太婆看着他，仿佛她有一股强烈的冲动，想要再紧紧抓住他的头与喉咙似的，但由于看到他脸上露出一种固执的神秘的神色，她就克制着自己。

“这是策略，”很不愿意的磨工说道，“所以没有什么人看到他们走，也没有什么人能说出他们是怎样走的。我跟您说，他们是从不同的路线走的，布朗太太。”

“是的，是的，是的！这么说，是要到一个约定的地点去相会，”老太婆把他的脸孔默默地、敏锐地观察了一会儿之后，吃吃地笑道。

“可不，如果他们不是到什么地方去相会的话，我想他们干脆就待在家里得了，是不是，布朗太太？”罗布不乐意地回答道。

“唔，后来呢，罗布？后来怎么了？”老太婆把他的胳膊往她自己的胳膊里拉得更紧了一些，仿佛由于心急，她怕他会溜走似的。