墨西哥人(外研社双语读库)
杰克·伦敦

本书由外研社授权掌阅科技电子版制作与发行
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I

Nobody knew his history—they of the Junta least of all. He was their "little mystery, " their "big patriot, " and in his way he worked as hard for the coming Mexican Revolution as did they. They were tardy in recognizing this, for not one of the Junta liked him. The day he first drifted into their crowded, busy rooms, they all suspected him of being a spy—one of the bought tools of the Diaz secret service. Too many of the comrades were in civil and military prisons scattered over the United States, and others of them, in irons, were even then being taken across the border to be lined up against adobe walls and shot.

一

没人了解他的过去——最不了解的是革命委员会里的人。他是他们眼中的 “神秘少年” 、 “伟大的爱国志士” 。他按照自己的方式，为即将爆发的墨西哥革命，同他们一样竭尽全力地工作。他们也是过了很久才认清这一点的，因为委员会里没人喜欢他。他第一次钻进委员会繁忙拥挤的房间里那天，他们都怀疑他是个间谍——一个被迪亚斯特务机关收买来的走狗。他们的同志，很多人被关押在遍布美国各地的民事监狱和军事监狱，另一些则上了手铐脚镣，甚至被押送出境，面对着砖墙排成队，被枪毙掉了。

At the first sight the boy did not impress them favorably. Boy he was, not more than eighteen and not over large for his years. He announced that he was Felipe Rivera, and that it was his wish to work for the Revolution. That was all—not a wasted word, no further explanation. He stood waiting. There was no smile on his lips, no geniality in his eyes. Big dashing Paulino Vera felt an inward shudder. Here was something forbidding, terrible, inscrutable. There was something venomous and snakelike in the boy's black eyes. They burned like cold fire, as with a vast, concentrated bitterness. He flashed them from the faces of the conspirators to the typewriter which little Mrs. Sethby was industriously operating. His eyes rested on hers but an instant—she had chanced to look up—and she, too, sensed the nameless something that made her pause. She was compelled to read back in order to regain the swing of the letter she was writing.

这小伙子给他们的第一印象并不好。他的确还是个小伙子，顶多十八岁，个头也就是他那年纪应有的，不算特别高大。他说他叫费利佩? 里维拉，希望能为革命效力。就这些而已——没一个字的废话，也没进一步的解释。他站在那里等着。他的嘴唇不带一丝笑意，眼神不流露半点儿和善。大块头保利诺? 维拉平时勇猛无畏，此时也感觉内心一阵战栗。这男孩儿给人一种难以亲近、神秘可怕的感觉。他的黑眼睛里有种类似毒蛇的凶光。如冷峻的火焰灼灼燃烧，仿佛藏着深仇大恨。他炯炯的眼神从革命者的脸上扫向了矮小的塞斯比太太正在忙碌敲打的打字机上。碰巧她抬起头，他们的眼神交汇的一刹那，连塞斯比太太也感觉到他眼中有种说不出的东西，让她不由得停了一会儿。之后她不得不往回读了读，才又继续打她之前正写的那封书信。

Paulino Vera looked questioningly at Arrellano and Ramos, and questioningly they looked back and to each other. The indecision of doubt brooded in their eyes. This slender boy was the Unknown, vested with all the menace of the Unknown. He was unrecognizable, something quite beyond the ken of honest, ordinary revolutionists whose fiercest hatred for Diaz and his tyranny after all was only that of honest and ordinary patriots. Here was something else, they knew not what. But Vera, always the most impulsive, the quickest to act, stepped into the breach.

保利诺? 维拉满腹狐疑地看了看阿雷利亚诺和拉莫斯，他们也惶惑地看向维拉，然后又看向彼此。他们眼神中流露出犹豫不决的疑惑。眼前这个瘦高的小伙子来历不明，叫人不安。他在这些正直、普通的革命者眼里是个不能理解的谜。他们虽然也恨透了迪亚斯，恨透了他的暴政，但那都属于正直、普通的爱国者胸中的仇恨。而在他身上，似乎还有些别的什么，他们也说不出个究竟。然而一向最易冲动、说干就干的维拉挺身而出，打破了僵局。

"Very well, " he said coldly. "You say you want to work for the Revolution. Take off your coat. Hang it over there. I will show you, come—where are the buckets and cloths. The floor is dirty. You will begin by scrubbing it, and by scrubbing the floors of the other rooms. The spittoons need to be cleaned. Then there are the windows. "

“很好，” 维拉冷冷地说， “你说你想为革命效力。那就把上衣脱了。挂到那边去。让我来告诉你，来——告诉你水桶和抹布都在哪儿。地板很脏。你先把这儿的地板擦了，再去别的房间擦。痰盂得刷干净。还有窗户也得擦擦。”

"Is it for the Revolution? " the boy asked.

“这是为革命吗？” 小伙子问。

"It is for the Revolution, " Vera answered.

“是为了革命。” 维拉答道。

Rivera looked cold suspicion at all of them, then proceeded to take off his coat.

里维拉用怀疑的眼光冷冷地看了他们一眼，随即脱下上衣。

"It is well, " he said.

“那好。” 他说。

And nothing more. Day after day he came to his work—sweeping, scrubbing, cleaning. He emptied the ashes from the stoves, brought up the coal and kindling, and lighted the fires before the most energetic one of them was at his desk. "Can I sleep here? " he asked once. Ah, ha! So that was it—the hand of Diaz showing through! To sleep in the rooms of the Junta meant access to their secrets, to the lists of names, to the addresses of comrades down on Mexican soil. The request was denied, and Rivera never spoke of it again. He slept they knew not where, and ate they knew not where nor how. Once, Arrellano offered him a couple of dollars. Rivera declined the money with a shake of the head. When Vera joined in and tried to press it upon him, he said:

之后再也没有多问。他每天来干活儿——扫地、擦地、收拾房间。他总是在他们中最积极的人来工作之前，就已经把炉子里的灰清干净，把煤和引火柴弄来，把炉子生好了。 “我能在这儿睡吗？” 他有一次问道。啊哈！果真如此——迪亚斯的走狗露出原形了吧！睡在革命委员会的房间里就能探听到他们的秘密，得到他们的成员名单和他们在墨西哥做地下工作的同志的住址。这个要求被拒绝了，里维拉便再没有提起。他们不知道他睡在哪里，也不知道他在哪里吃饭，靠什么糊口。一次，阿雷利亚诺要给他几块钱。但里维拉摇了一下头，拒绝了。等到维拉也走过来，要把钱塞给他的时候，他说：

"I am working for the Revolution. "

“我是在为革命工作。”

It takes money to raise a modern revolution. and always the Junta was pressed. The members starved and toiled, and the longest day was none too long, and yet there were times when it appeared as if the Revolution stood or fell on no more than the matter of a few dollars. Once, the first time, when the rent of the house was two months behind and the landlord was threatening dispossession, it was Felipe Rivera, the scrub—boy in the poor, cheap clothes, worn and threadbare, who laid sixty dollars in gold on May Sethby's desk. There were other times. Three hundred letters, clicked out on the busy typewriters (appeals for assistance, for sanctions from the organized labor groups, requests for square news deals to the editors of newspapers, protests against the high—handed treatment of revolutionists by the United States courts), lay unmailed, awaiting postage. Vera's watch had disappeared—the old—fashioned gold repeater that had been his father's. Likewise had gone the plain gold band from May Sethby's third finger. Things were desperate. Ramos and Arrellano pulled their long mustaches in despair. The letters must go off, and the Post Office allowed no credit to purchasers of stamps. Then it was that Rivera put on his hat and went out. When he came back he laid a thousand two—cent stamps on May Sethby's desk.

发起现代革命需要不少钱，委员会总是手头拮据。委员会成员饿着肚子也辛勤地工作，日子再苦也不嫌苦；但有的时候革命的成败似乎就是几块钱的事儿。有一次，也是第一次，他们拖欠了两个月的房租，房东正逼着大伙儿搬家，费利佩? 里维拉，也就是那个衣衫褴褛、擦洗地板的小伙子拿来六十块钱金币放到梅? 塞斯比的办公桌上。类似的情况还有好几次。一次，忙碌的打字机敲打出的三百封信件（有请求援助、请求有组织的劳工团体批准的呼吁书，也有要求报社编辑公正报道的信件以及反对美国法院用高压手段对待革命同志的抗议书），因为没有邮票，都摆在桌上未曾寄出。维拉的手表不见了——那还是他父亲传给他的一只老式的打簧金表。梅? 塞斯比中指上的纯金戒指也不见了。委员会真是到了山穷水尽的地步。拉摩斯和阿雷利亚诺绝望地捋着长长的胡须。信件得寄啊，偏偏邮局又不让赊购邮票。这时，里维拉戴上帽子走了出去。当他回来时，他便把一千张两分的邮票放到了梅? 塞斯比的桌上。

"I wonder if it is the cursed gold of Diaz? " said Vera to the comrades.

“我怀疑他用的是不是迪亚斯的臭钱？” 维拉对其他同志说。

They elevated their brows and could not decide. And Felipe Rivera, the scrubber for the Revolution, continued, as occasion arose, to lay down gold and silver for the Junta's use.

他们扬了扬眉毛，都无法断定。而那个为革命擦地板的费利佩? 里维拉却继续在急需用钱的时候拿出金币银元供委员会使用。

And still they could not bring themselves to like him. They did not know him. His ways were not theirs. He gave no confidences. He repelled all probing. Youth that he was, they could never nerve themselves to dare to question him.

即便如此，他们还是无法喜欢他。他们对他一无所知。他的做事风格与他们不同。他从来不吐露心事。他排斥一切对他的刺探。尽管他年纪轻轻，但他们没人敢质问他。

"A great and lonely spirit, perhaps, I do not know, I do not know, " Arrellano said helplessly.

“也许他的内心伟大而又孤独。我不知道，真不知道。” 阿雷利亚诺无奈地说道。

"He is not human, " said Ramos.

“他一点儿人情味儿也没有。” 拉莫斯说。

"His soul has been seared, " said May Sethby. "Light and laughter have been burned out of him. He is like one dead, and yet he is fearfully alive. "

“他的灵魂仿佛曾被灼烧。” 梅? 塞斯比说， “他身上的光明和欢笑已经被烧尽。他就像个活死人，令人害怕。”

"He has been through hell, " said Vera. "No man could look like that who has not been through hell—and he is only a boy. "

“他定是受过地狱的折磨。” 维拉说， “没受过地狱折磨的人不可能像他那样——他还只是个孩子呢。”

Yet they could not like him. He never talked, never inquired, never suggested. He would stand listening, expressionless, a thing dead, save for his eyes, coldly burning, while their talk of the Revolution ran high and warm. From face to face and speaker to speaker his eyes would turn, boring like gimlets of incandescent ice, disconcerting and perturbing.

他们还是无法喜欢他。他从不说话，从不询问，也从不提建议。他们热火朝天地谈论革命的时候，他只是面无表情地站着听，像个死人似的，唯有那双眼睛在冷冷地燃烧。他的眼神从这张脸移向那张脸，从这个说话人移向那个说话人，如寒光灼灼的冰凌，让人惶恐不安。

"He is no spy, " Vera confided to May Sethby. "He is a patriot—mark me, the greatest patriot of us all. I know it, I feel it, here in my heart and head I feel it. But him I know not at all. "

“他不会是间谍，” 维拉对梅? 塞斯比表露自己的意见， “他是位爱国志士——听我说，他是我们当中最伟大的爱国志士。我很清楚，我能感觉出来，我从心里和脑子里都能感觉出来。但我对他还是一无所知。”

"He has a bad temper, " said May Sethby.

“他脾气可坏了。” 梅? 塞斯比说。

"I know, " said Vera, with a shudder. "He has looked at me with those eyes of his. They do not love; they threaten; they are savage as a wild tiger's. I know, if I should prove unfaithful to the Cause, that he would kill me. He has no heart. He is pitiless as steel, keen and cold as frost. He is like moonshine in a winter night when a man freezes to death on some lonely mountain top. I am not afraid of Diaz and all his killers; but this boy, of him am I afraid. I tell you true. I am afraid. He is the breath of death. "

“这我知道，” 维拉打了个哆嗦， “他用他那双眼睛瞅过我。眼神中完全没有爱，只有威胁，像猛虎一样野蛮凶狠。我敢说要是我对革命不忠，他非杀了我不可。他完全没有感情。无情得像钢铁，冷漠得像冰霜。他就像那寒冬里的月光，冷冷地洒在凄清山顶上即将冻死的人身上。我一点儿不怕迪亚斯和他的那些刽子手们。但这个小伙子，我还真有些怕他。我是说真的, 我怕极了。他就是个活死人。”

Yet Vera it was who persuaded the others to give the first trust to Rivera. The line of communication between Los Angeles and Lower California had broken down. Three of the comrades had dug their own graves and been shot into them. Two more were United States prisoners in Los Angeles. Juan Alvarado, the Federal commander, was a monster. All their plans did he checkmate. They could no longer gain access to the active revolutionists, and the incipient ones, in Lower California.

但说服其他同志第一次开始信任里维拉的，也是维拉。洛杉矶和下加利福尼亚的通讯线路断了。三位已将生死置之度外的同志遭到了枪杀。还有两位被关进了在洛杉矶的美国监狱。联邦军的司令胡安? 阿尔瓦拉多就是个禽兽。他破坏了他们所有的计划。他们无法再同身处下加利福尼亚、积极投身革命的同志以及那里新近加入革命的同志取得联系。

Young Rivera was given his instructions and dispatched south. When he returned, the line of communication was reestablished, and Juan Alvarado was dead. He had been found in bed, a knife hilt—deep in his breast. This had exceeded Rivera's instructions, but they of the Junta knew the times of his movements. They did not ask him. He said nothing. But they looked at one another and conjectured.

年轻的里维拉接到命令，被派往南方。等他回来的时候，通讯线路恢复了正常，而胡安? 阿尔瓦拉多却死了。胡安被发现死在床上，一把匕首齐柄插入了他的胸口。这完全超出了里维拉的任务范围，不过革命委员会的人都知道他行动的时间。大家什么都没有问。他什么也都没有说。但是，所有人互相对视并不断猜测着。

"I have told you, " said Vera. "Diaz has more to fear from this youth than from any man. He is implacable. He is the hand of God. "

“我告诉过你，” 维拉说道， “这个年轻人会让迪亚斯感到前所未有的恐惧。他是那样无情。他简直就是上帝的刽子手。”

The bad temper, mentioned by May Sethby, and sensed by them all, was evidenced by physical proofs. Now he appeared with a cut lip, a blackened cheek, or a swollen ear. It was patent that he brawled, somewhere in that outside world where he ate and slept, gained money, and moved in ways unknown to them. As the time passed, he had come to set type for the little revolutionary sheet they published weekly. There were occasions when he was unable to set type, when his knuckles were bruised and battered, when his thumbs were injured and helpless, when one arm or the other hung wearily at his side while his face was drawn with unspoken pain.

之前梅? 塞斯比曾经提到里维拉脾气很坏。这一点，不仅大家感觉到了，而且还得到了实际证明。现在他一露面，不是嘴唇破裂，就是脸颊青紫，或者一只耳朵肿胀不堪。很显然，他在外面，在那个他吃饭、睡觉、赚钱，以及按照不为人知的方式活动的世界里，经常和人打架。随着时间的推移，里维拉开始为宣传革命的小周报排版。不过，有时候他无法正常排版，因为他不是指关节擦伤磨破，就是拇指受了伤不听使唤，抑或是一只胳膊无力地搭在一侧，脸上透着难言的疼痛。

"A wastrel, " said Arrellano.

“真是废物！” 阿雷利亚诺说。

"A frequenter of low places, " said Ramos.

“他肯定经常出入粗俗的地方。” 拉莫斯回应道。

"But where does he get the money? " Vera demanded. "Only to—day, just now, have I learned that he paid the bill for white paper—one hundred and forty dollars. "

“不过他是从哪儿赚到钱的呢？” 维拉不解地问道， “就说今天，我刚刚得知是他给我们的白皮书付的钱——整整一百四十块！”

"There are his absences, " said May Sethby. "He never explains them. "

“他有时候不在，” 梅赛斯比接过话来，但他从来不解释为什么。”

"We should set a spy upon him, " Ramos propounded.

“我们应该派个人暗中监视他。” 拉莫斯提议。

"I should not care to be that spy, " said Vera. "I fear you would never see me again, save to bury me. He has a terrible passion. Not even God would he permit to stand between him and the way of his passion. "

“我倒是可以去，” 维拉说， “不过我担心你可能再也见不到我了，记得省点儿钱给我买口棺材。他的激情实在太可怕了！他的激情来时，就连上帝也无法阻挡住他。”

"I feel like a child before him, " Ramos confessed.

“在他面前，我总觉得自己像个孩子。” 拉莫斯坦白道。

"To me he is power—he is the primitive, the wild wolf, the striking rattlesnake, the stinging centipede, " said Arrellano.

“在我看来，他就是力量——他是原始人，是匹野狼，是骇人的响尾蛇，是浑身长满刺的蜈蚣。” 阿雷利亚诺说道。

"He is the Revolution incarnate, " said Vera. "He is the flame and the spirit of it, the insatiable cry for vengeance that makes no cry but that slays noiselessly. He is a destroying angel in moving through the still watches of the night. "

“他是革命的化身，” 维拉说， “他是革命的火焰和精神，他那样无休止地寻求报复，在无声的呐喊中展开杀戮。他是毁灭天使，穿行在静默的深夜里。”

"I could weep over him, " said May Sethby. "He knows nobody. He hates all people. Us he tolerates, for we are the way of his desire. He is alone.... lonely. " Her voice broke in a half sob and there was dimness in her eyes.

“我会为他而流泪的，” 梅? 塞斯比说道， “他谁也不认识。他恨所有人。而他之所以能够忍受我们，是因为我们可以帮助他实现心愿。他总是一个人……那么孤独。” 塞斯比太太说着说着便低声啜泣起来，眼睛里氤氲着湿气。

Rivera's ways and times were truly mysterious. There were periods when they did not see him for a week at a time. Once, he was away a month. These occasions were always capped by his return, when, without advertisement or speech, he laid gold coins on May Sethby's desk. Again, for days and weeks, he spent all his time with the Junta. And yet again, for irregular periods, he would disappear through the heart of each day, from early morning until late afternoon. At such times he came early and remained late. Arrellano had found him at midnight, setting type with fresh swollen knuckles, or mayhap it was his lip, new—split, that still bled.

里维拉的行为举止和时间作息的确是个谜。有时候，大家一个星期都见不到他。还有一次，他一走就是一个月。但每当他回来的时候，他总是一言不发地在梅塞斯比的桌子上放下很多金币。之后，在接下来的几天或者几个星期里，他都会把所有的时间用来为革命委员会工作。然后，不知过了多久，他又会每日白天出去，在清晨到傍晚间突然消失，没有任何规律可言。不过在这种时候，他通常来得特别早，并一直呆到很晚。有一回，阿雷利亚诺发现他半夜还在排版，他的指关节还是新肿起来的，不然就是嘴唇又有新裂开的伤口，还在流血。