One evening, a month later, Eric Marshall came out of the old, white-washed schoolhouse at Lindsay, and locked the door—which was carved over with initials innumerable, and built of double plank in order that it might withstand all the assaults and batteries to which it might be subjected.
一个月后的某个傍晚,埃里克·马歇尔从林赛学校刷白的旧校舍出来,锁上门。门上刻着无数个大写字母。门由两层木板组成,以抵抗一切可能会受到的袭击。
Eric's pupils had gone home an hour before, but he had stayed to solve some algebra problems, and correct some Latin exercises for his advanced students.
学生们一小时前就已经回家了,但埃里克留下来解了几道代数题,还批改了高年级学生的拉丁文练习。
The sun was slanting in warm yellow lines through the thick grove of maples to the west of the building, and the dim green air beneath them burst into golden bloom. A couple of sheep were nibbling the lush grass in a far corner of the play-ground; a cow-bell, somewhere in the maple woods, tinkled faintly and musically, on the still crystal air, which, in spite of its blandness, still retained a touch of the wholesome austerity and poignancy of a Canadian spring. The whole world seemed to have fallen, for the time being, into a pleasant untroubled dream.
温暖的黄色阳光穿过茂密的枫树林,斜射在楼的西侧。树下原本昏暗的绿色空气在阳光下泛起金光。操场上远远的一角里,几只羊正啃着茂盛的草;一只牛铃在枫树林的某处发出轻微而悦耳的声音。清澈的空气虽然静谧,但仍保留着些许加拿大春季有益于身心的冷冽与肃杀。那一刻,整个世界仿佛已经陷入美妙安宁的梦境里。
The scene was very peaceful and pastoral—almost too much so, the young man thought, with a shrug of his shoulders, as he stood in the worn steps and gazed about him. How was he going to put in a whole month here, he wondered, with a little smile at his own expense.
年轻人站在磨旧的台阶上环顾四周。景色十分宁静,很有田园风情,几乎都有些过头了。想到这里,他耸了耸肩。他自嘲地笑了笑,想着怎样才能在这里度过整整一个月。
"Father would chuckle if he knew I was sick of it already," he thought, as he walked across the play-ground to the long red road that ran past the school. "Well, one week is ended, at any rate. I've earned my own living for five whole days, and that is something I could never say before in all my twenty-four years of existence. It is an exhilarating thought. But teaching the Lindsay district school is distinctly not exhilarating—at least in such a well-behaved school as this, where the pupils are so painfully good that I haven't even the traditional excitement of thrashing obstreperous bad boys. Everything seems to go by clock work in Lindsay educational institution. Larry must certainly have possessed a marked gift for organizing and drilling. I feel as if I were merely a big cog in an orderly machine that ran itself. However, I understand that there are some pupils who haven't shown up yet, and who, according to all reports, have not yet had the old Adam totally drilled out of them. They may make things more interesting. Also a few more compositions, such as John Reid's, would furnish some spice to professional life."
“父亲要是知道我已经厌烦了,会笑我的,”埃里克边想边穿过操场,往学校边上那条长长的红色公路走去。“不过,再怎么慢,一个星期也过去了。整整五天以来我都是自食其力,这是以前的二十四年的生活里我从未能谈过的事。想到这真让人兴奋。但在林赛乡村学校教书显然没什么好兴奋的。至少,在这样一个校风严谨的学校里是这样的,因为那儿学生们的表现好得令人头疼,所以我连抽打吵闹的坏男生这种传统意义上的乐趣也享受不到了。在林赛的教育系统里,一切都好像是按照钟点有条不紊地进行着。当然,拉里一定在组织和教学方面有明显的天赋。我感觉自己似乎只是一台自动有序运行的机器里的一枚大齿轮而已。不过,我知道有些学生还没来上课。根据现有记录来看,他们的顽劣天性还没有完全去除干净。有了他们,日子应该会更有趣吧。另外,还有几篇作文,比如约翰·里德的作文,会给教学生活加点儿料。”
Eric's laughter wakened the echoes as he swung into the road down the long sloping hill. He had given his fourth grade pupils their own choice of subjects in the composition class that morning, and John Reid, a sober, matter-of-fact little urchin, with not the slightest embryonic development of a sense of humour, had, acting upon the whispered suggestion of a roguish desk-mate, elected to write upon "Courting." His opening sentence made Eric's face twitch mutinously whenever he recalled it during the day. "Courting is a very pleasant thing which a great many people go too far with."
埃里克摇摇摆摆地沿着长长的山坡走到公路上,他的笑声激起了阵阵回声。那天早上给四年级上写作课,他让学生们自主选题。约翰·里德,一个头脑清醒、实事求是、毫无幽默感的小顽童,竟然听了流氓同桌低声给他的建议,选择了写一篇题为“求偶”的作文。那一整天,埃里克一想到文章的第一句话就忍不住脸笑得变形。“求偶是件令人愉快的事,但很多人做得太过火了。”
The distant hills and wooded uplands were tremulous and aerial in delicate spring-time gauzes of pearl and purple. The young, green-leafed maples crowded thickly to the very edge of the road on either side, but beyond them were emerald fields basking in sunshine, over which cloud shadows rolled, broadened, and vanished. Far below the fields a calm ocean slept bluely, and sighed in its sleep, with the murmur that rings for ever in the ear of those whose good fortune it is to have been born within the sound of it.
远处的群山和林木茂密的高地笼罩在春季珍珠色和紫色的薄雾里,微微颤抖、时隐时现。道路两边枫树绿油油的新叶,密密麻麻地挤到路的对面。但再往远处是翠绿的田野,沐浴在阳光中。云在田野里投下影子,继而卷曲,继而舒展,继而消失不见。在比田野低很多的地方是一片平静而蔚蓝的大海。海面风平浪静,大海沉睡着,睡梦中不时发出叹息和呢喃。这呢喃将在那些有幸伴着这些声音出世的人的耳畔不断响起。
Now and then Eric met some callow, check-shirted, bare-legged lad on horseback, or a shrewd-faced farmer in a cart, who nodded and called out cheerily, "Howdy, Master?" A young girl, with a rosy, oval face, dimpled cheeks, and pretty dark eyes filled with shy coquetry, passed him, looking as if she would not be at all averse to a better acquaintance with the new teacher.
埃里克偶尔能遇见一些稚气未脱的小伙子,光着腿、骑着马、穿着格子衬衫;也有可能是马车里一脸精明的农夫,在朝他点头,欢快地叫道:“您好吗,老师?”这时,一个面色红润的年轻姑娘从他身边走过。她长着一张鹅蛋脸,脸颊上有两个酒窝,一双乌黑的眼睛十分漂亮,眼中满是羞涩与妩媚。看上去,她似乎并不讨厌和这个新老师深交。
Half way down the hill Eric met a shambling, old gray horse drawing an express wagon which had seen better days. The driver was a woman: she appeared to be one of those drab-tinted individuals who can never have felt a rosy emotion in all their lives. She stopped her horse, and beckoned Eric over to her with the knobby handle of a faded and bony umbrella.
走到半山腰时,埃里克碰到了一匹老灰马,正踉踉跄跄地拉着一辆曾有过光辉岁月的特快马车。赶车的是个女人,一看就是个枯燥无味的人,一辈子都不会有浪漫爱情。她停下马,用一把掉色而多节的雨伞示意埃里克到她那儿去。
"Reckon you're the new Master, ain't you?" she asked.
“我猜你就是新来的老师,是吗?”她问。
Eric admitted that he was.
埃里克回答说是的。
"Well, I'm glad to see you," she said, offering him a hand in a much darned cotton glove that had once been black.
“嗯,很高兴见到你。”她一边说着,一边伸出戴手套的手,那棉手套缝补过好几次,看得出曾经是黑色的。
"I was right sorry to see Mr. West go, for he was a right good teacher, and as harmless, inoffensive a creetur as ever lived. But I always told him every time I laid eyes on him that he was in consumption, if ever a man was. You look real healthy—though you can't aways tell by looks, either. I had a brother complected like you, but he was killed in a railroad accident out west when he was real young.
“很遗憾韦斯特先生走了,因为他真是个好老师,是世上最善良最温和的人。但我每次一见他,就总跟他说他憔悴了。你看起来真健康,虽然也不能总凭脸色来判断。我有个弟弟和你肤色差不多,可惜很小的时候死在了西部的一场铁路事故中。
"I've got a boy I'll be sending to school to you next week. He'd oughter gone this week, but I had to keep him home to help me put the pertaters in; for his father won't work and doesn't work and can't be made to work.
“我有个儿子,打算下周送到你学校去。他本该这周就去的,可我之前得让他呆在家里帮忙收土豆。因为他父亲不肯干活,啥都不干,谁也叫不动他。
"Sandy—his full name is Edward Alexander—called after both his grandfathers—hates the idee of going to school worse 'n pisen—always did. But go he shall, for I'm determined he's got to have more larning hammered into his head yet. I reckon you'll have trouble with him, Master, for he's as stupid as an owl, and as stubborn as Solomon's mule. But mind this, Master, I'll back you up. You just lick Sandy good and plenty when he needs it, and send me a scrape of the pen home with him, and I'll give him another dose.
“他叫桑迪,全名是随他爷爷和姥爷起的,叫爱德华·亚历山大。这孩子很讨厌上学,宁可干体力活,一直都这样。但他必须去上学,因为我仍决定要让他脑袋里多装点儿知识。我想,他一来,您就有麻烦了,老师,因为他笨得像只猫头鹰,固执地像所罗门的那头驴。但您放心,老师,我会支持您的。桑迪要人夸,您就多夸夸他,然后让他带回一张便签来,我会替您教训他的。
"There's people that always sides in with their young ones when there's any rumpus kicked up in the school, but I don't hold to that, and never did. You can depend on Rebecca Reid every time, Master."
“有些父母看到自己的孩子在学校兴风作浪,就总是和他们同一阵线,但我就不赞成这么做,从来都不。丽贝卡·里德任何时候都靠得住,老师。”
"Thank you. I am sure I can," said Eric, in his most winning tones.
“谢谢。这我很肯定。”埃里克用相当胜利的口吻答道。
He kept his face straight until it was safe to relax, and Mrs. Reid drove on with a soft feeling in her leathery old heart, which had been so toughened by long endurance of poverty and toil, and a husband who wouldn't work and couldn't be made to work, that it was no longer a very susceptible organ where members of the opposite sex were concerned.
他一直绷着脸,直到可以放松时才松懈下来。里德太太继续赶车,苍老而坚韧的内心萌生一种温柔的情感。长期以来忍受着贫苦的生活和艰辛的劳作,而且她丈夫又不肯干活,怎么叫都叫不动,以致于她的心早已变硬,不会再为异性动容。
Mrs. Reid reflected that this young man had a way with him.
里德太太仔细想了想,认为这个年轻人很有办法。
Eric already knew most of the Lindsay folks by sight; but at the foot of the hill he met two people, a man and a boy, whom he did not know. They were sitting in a shabby, old-fashioned wagon, and were watering their horse at the brook, which gurgled limpidly under the little plank bridge in the hollow.
埃里克已经亲眼见过林赛的所有人,但是在山脚下他遇到了两个陌生人,一个男人和一个小男孩。他们正坐在一辆破旧的老式马车里,在溪边饮马。清澈的溪水潺潺地流着,水上架着一座小木板桥。
Eric surveyed them with some curiosity. They did not look in the least like the ordinary run of Lindsay people. The boy, in particular, had a distinctly foreign appearance, in spite of the gingham shirt and homespun trousers, which seemed to be the regulation, work-a-day outfit for the Lindsay farmer lads. He had a lithe, supple body, with sloping shoulders, and a lean, satiny brown throat above his open shirt collar. His head was covered with thick, silky, black curls, and the hand that hung down by the side of the wagon was unusually long and slender. His face was richly, though somewhat heavily featured, olive tinted, save for the cheeks, which had a dusky crimson bloom. His mouth was as red and beguiling as a girl's, and his eyes were large, bold and black. All in all, he was a strikingly handsome fellow; but the expression of his face was sullen, and he somehow gave Eric the impression of a sinuous, feline creature basking in lazy grace, but ever ready for an unexpected spring.
埃里克好奇地审视着他们。他们一点儿也不像林赛地区的普通人。特别是那个小男孩,虽然穿着方格纹的棉布衬衫和手织的裤子,一副似乎林赛农民小伙子劳作时的装束,长得却明显像外地人。他身手敏捷,柔韧性好,两肩微斜,开衫领子上露出一段瘦长光滑的棕色脖颈。他有着一头浓密顺滑的黑色卷发,垂在马车边上的手不是一般的纤长。他的脸,不知怎的,虽然轮廓相当分明,但确是深深的橄榄色,只有两颊是暗红色的。嘴唇红艳迷人,像女孩子的嘴一样。一双乌黑的大眼睛炯炯有神。总的来说,他长得相当英俊。但他的面部表情很阴郁,使埃里克不知怎的想到了晒着阳光、身子蜷缩着的懒猫,虽然优雅,却随时准备着要出人意料地跳起来。
The other occupant of the wagon was a man between sixty-five and seventy, with iron-gray hair, a long, full, gray beard, a harsh-featured face, and deep-set hazel eyes under bushy, bristling brows. He was evidently tall, with a spare, ungainly figure, and stooping shoulders. His mouth was close-lipped and relentless, and did not look as if it had ever smiled. Indeed, the idea of smiling could not be connected with this man—it was utterly incongruous. Yet there was nothing repellent about his face; and there was something in it that compelled Eric's attention.
马车上的另一个人,年龄介于六十五到七十之间。他长着一头铁灰色的头发,留着又长又密的灰胡子,脸很粗糙,浓密粗硬的眉毛下是一双深陷进去的褐色眼睛。他又高又瘦、体态笨拙、双肩缩着。他嘴巴紧闭着,显得很无情,好像从未微笑过一样。的确,微笑和这个人根本联系不到一块,因为太不协调了。可他脸上也并没有什么讨人厌的地方,倒是有什么东西使得埃里克不注意他都不行。
He rather prided himself on being a student of physiognomy, and he felt quite sure that this man was no ordinary Lindsay farmer of the genial, garrulous type with which he was familiar.
他为自己学过相面术颇感自豪,而且非常肯定这个人绝不是他在这里熟悉的那种亲切的、爱唠叨的普通林赛农夫。
Long after the old wagon, with its oddly assorted pair, had gone lumbering up the hill, Eric found himself thinking of the stern, heavy browed man and the black-eyed, red-lipped boy.
旧马车的一对轮子配合得别别扭扭地缓缓驶上了山坡。过了很久,埃里克发现自己还沉思于那个严厉的浓眉男子和黑眼红唇的男孩。
wM/Zh8uXk+/Hh736EAjcuqnswl/kQz+2+pGO9yCwUKlDsE+7KexvoK8/sZF6os29