A visit at the tea-time

午茶时的拜访

关于作者：约翰. 威恩（John Wain 1925—上世纪五十年代成名的英国作家，被人们归入“愤怒青年”派。代表作《下坡路》、《山里的冬天》等。）

在通往通向那所房子的甬道上，威廉姆斯刚走了一半又转身退了回来。他感到口干舌燥，虽然已是个成年人，但他却紧张得开始心跳加速。他再次从大门走出来，就站在篱笆墙外，此处已看不到那所房子了，要是有人从窗户往外看的话，他真不想让他们看到自己的举止是如此怪异。

Williams had to turn back half-way down the long path which led to the house. His mouth was dry and his heart had begun to beat quickly and nervously in a way he thought he had outgrown. He went out through the gate again and stood behind the hedge, out o sight o the house. If anyone was watching through a window, he did not want them to see him behaving in this strange way.

“这是很合情合理的，”他大声说出了口。他说这些话的方式连他自己都感到真是太大胆了。他左右望了望林荫道，除了落叶，空无一物。一边思考一边自言自语是他的老习惯了，况且在这种情况下，在按响门铃之前先试一试嗓子，也是非常自然的。他用这种想法来安慰自己。威廉姆斯的声音听起来非常干哑，“这是很合情合理的，”他又说道，“我为什么不去看看那所房子呢？我不会给他们带来多少麻烦的。而且在过了十五年之后......”

“It’s perfectly reasonable,” he said out loud. The way he said the words made him feel almost bold. He looked up and down the avenue, which was empty of every thing except fallen leaves. Thinking aloud was an old habit of his, but in this case he comforted himself with the thought that it was only natural to try out his voice before ringing the bell. It sounded rather dry and rough, “It’s quite reasonable,” he repeated. “Why shouldn’t I want to see it? I shan’t be causing them much trouble. And after fifteen years…!”

他突然想到，即使站在篱笆墙的阴影里，仍然会有人能从阁楼的窗户里看到他。往昔游多少个秋日的午后，就象今天下午一样，就在那扇窗户后面，他忙着做那些梦幻般的游戏！这游戏渐渐融进了全部的风景，那些静谧、庄重的房子，树林，远处的铁路桥，以及偶尔的过路人和伸着鼻子探路的孤零零的小狗。

He suddenly thought that, even standing in the shelter of the hedge, he might still be in view to someone in the attic window. How many atutmn afternoons, exactly like this one, had he spent behind that window, busy with some dream-game! A game which had gradually included the entire landscape: the quiet, serious-looking houses, the trees, the railway bridge in the distance, and the occasional passer-by or lonely dog smelling its way along.

“你为什么要在阁楼里呆那么长时间？”他仍能听到妈妈的说话声。妈妈和爸爸把自己的东西从楼下的一间房间里拿了出来，又把它重新布置了一番，成了一间游戏室，可是威廉姆斯却很少去那里玩。妈妈觉得他太不领情了，但是威廉姆斯却更喜欢那间高高的阁楼——那里可以激发起无限的遐想。游戏室总是强迫人们去做一些既定的游戏，那里有电动的火车，成盒的玩具和拼板，墙上挂满了眼花缭乱的图片。只有在阁楼上他可以一次呆上几小时，自由地想象并生活在自己的世界里。

“Why do you spend so much time in the attic?” he could hear his mother saying. She felt that, after she and his father had moved their things out of the downstairs rooms and had re-planned it as play-room, is was ungrateful of him to play there so little. But he had preferred the high, secret attic-- it was so much more likely to encourage dreams. The play-room almost forced one to be doing something, with its electric railway system, its boxes of toys and puzzles, its busy confusion and the earnestly bright pictures on its walls. It was only in the attic that he had felt free to imagine his own world and to live in it for hours at a time.

十五年了——这确实使他有权回到那所房子的前门，按响门铃，提出一个简单的要求吗？他一扭身，又迅速地转向花园，毫不迟疑地踏上了那条通向前门的小路。现在他用成人的眼光估计了一下，大约有三十码的距离，同他的记忆相比，花园的前面变化并不大。过去主要是草和低矮的灌木，现在仍然是这样。但是当他的脚踏上砾石铺成的小路，发出的沙沙声似乎更刺耳了。它们或许最近被换过了，或许被人维护得很好，或许两者都有。

Fifteen years – surely that gave him the right to go up to the front door, to ring the bell and make a simple request? Setting his shoulders back, he turned quickly into the garden again and walked, without hesitating, the whole way up the path to the front door. H judged it now, with his adult eye, to be a distance of some thirty yards. The front garden did not seem to have changed much from what he remembered. It had been mainly grass and low bushed, and it still was. But he gravel seemed to make a sharper noise as his feet crushed it. I had either been recently renewed or was very well cared for; perhaps both.

当他按下门铃时，什么动静也没有。想到也许是门铃出了故障，他的紧张就象潮水一样涌了上来。这就迫使他要做出选择：要么敲门——这步需要自信，他太害羞了，不可能走；要么就一直站在那儿，直到有人意外地发现他。在勇气还没有最后消失时，他又控制住了自己。这是一座大房子，他提醒自己，铃响的房间距离很远，在它和前门入口之间，可能至少有两道关着的房门。

When he pressed the bell, he heard nothing. For a moment, his nervousness threatened to come flooding back, at the thought that the bell might be out of order. This would force him to choose between using the door-knocker – a self-confident step he was too shy to take – or standing there until someone discovered him by accident. But he pulled himself together before his control began to slip away completely. It was a big house, he reminded himself, and the bell rag in a room that was distant, probably with at least two shut doors between it and the front entrance.

他的脑海里突然出现了房子内部的画面，特别是厨房：温暖而明亮，天花板上吊着粘蝇纸，弗朗西斯正在摆放喝茶的桌子。他刚从学校进到家里，他的书包和深蓝色的雨衣被小心翼翼地挂在门后的挂钩上。弗朗西斯正在为他们准备茶、面包和黄油，以便靠到七点。当然，只有在后来的几年里，他才被允许和自己的父母在七点时一起共进晚餐。那时他已经十岁了......或者十一了？

He had a sudden mental pocture of the interior of the house, and in particular of the kitchen: warm and bright, with a fly-paper hanging from the ceiling and Frances setting the table for tea. He would just have come in from school, hand his satchel and dark blue raincoat would be carelessly thrown on the hook on the back of the door. Frances would be getting tea and bread-and butter just for the two of them, tofill the gap till seven o’clock. Of course, it was only in later years that he had been allowed to have dinner with his parents at seven o’clock, after he was ten… or ould it be eleven?

他听到弗朗西斯来到了门前，她那缓缓的脚步声。当然，实际上那不可能是弗朗西斯，她已经去世了，而且他还参加了她的葬礼。但他能清楚地看到她，没有弗朗西斯，是根本不可能想象得出厨房的景象的，特别是在一个秋日的午后，天色开始变暗，桌上摆好了茶点，那一定是摆好了茶点的弗朗西斯！我们为什么必须要离开这所房子，你为什么要死，为什么世上的一切终究要结束？

He heard Frances coming to the door. Her slow footsteps. Of course, it could not really be Frances; she was dead and he had been to her funeral. But he could see her so plainly. And it was so impossible to imagine the kitchen without Frances, especially on an autumn afternoon with the light beginning to fade and with the tea-things on the table, as they surely must be… Frances!

Why did we have to leave this house, why did you have to die, why did it all have to come to an end?

就在门刚刚开启的瞬间，威廉姆斯脑海里的景象一下全都消失了，就在他想看到的那个人即将出现之前，他知道那不会是弗朗西斯，就在那一刹那，他迷惑了。

The vision vanished in an instant. Even as the door began to open, before he could even catch sight of the figure he was about to see, he knew it would not be Frances. All the same, he was puzzled.

他突然发现自己正注视着一双苍白的蓝色眼睛，它们看起来是那样无神，就象是画在一张纸上而不是长在一个人的脸上一样。这个女人是谁呢？人长得又高又瘦，灰白色的头发在脖子上整齐地卷成了个圆髻，身上穿了件工作服。她是管家，还是......?

Suddenly he found himself looking into a pair of pale blue eyes that seemed curiously flat, as if they were painted on sheet of paper rather than se t in a human face. Who was this womanwith the long,narrow features,theiron-grey hair twisted tidily into a bun ablve her neck, and wearing an oerall? Was she the housekeeper? Or …?

“下午好。我想自己是否可以和......”他自出生以来就一直期盼着这样的日子，当门被一位仆人打开时，来访者会简单地问道：“主人在家吗？”

“good afternoon. I wonder if I might speak to…” He was wishing for the days before he was born, when the door was opened by a servant and one simply said, “Os the master in?”

那女人就站在那儿，等着，好象随时都会把门关上一样。

“这儿的——所有人——人，房子的主人在家吗？”威廉姆斯问道。

The woman stood, waiting, as if she would suddenly close the door at any minute.

“Is the – occupier—er, the ,aster of the house at home?” Williams asked.

“房子的主人？”女人重复了一遍，她说话时那种不高不低的单调声音使她的话听起来很怪——可笑中有点冲。威廉姆斯强作愉快地说：“您看，实际上是这么回事。”他说着，脸上挤出了一丝微笑，好象是想让她知道他知道自己看起来一定很奇怪，“实际上我确实不知道谁住在这里，但是......”

“The master of the house?” the woman repeated. Her flat voice, that neither rose nor fell as she spoke, made the words sound strange—silly and yet threatening.

Williams forced himself to be bright. “You see, it’s like this,” he said, crushing his face into a smile, s if to convey to her that he knew how peculiar he must seem. “I don’t actually know who lives here, but—“

“你不知道谁住在这里吗？”那个女人又回应道。她的话听起来立即使他感觉到，她认为他的话根本不值得认真考虑，而且她的口气里充满了威吓。

“You don’t know who lives here?” the woman echoed again. Once more his own words, held up flatly for him to examine, seemed unworthy of serious consideration

And yet full of menace.

“实际上，事情很简单，”他用一种幽默而耐心的语气开始说道，这连他自己内心里都吃了一惊。“这所房子——”

“It’s quite simple, actually,” he said, beginning again with a good-humoured patience that inwardly surprised him. “This house—“

“我们什么都不想买。”女人突然打断了他。

惊讶之余，他看到她开始关门要把他拒之门外，弗朗西斯，弗朗西斯，你在哪里啊？

“We don’t want to buy anything,” the woman suddenly interrupted.

Alarmed, he saw that she was beginning to close the door against him. Frances, Frances, where are you?

“我什么东西也不卖。”他开始迅速地讲了起来。“我只想请求一点小小的帮助，不管谁住在这里。您不知道，我就出生在这所房子里面。”

“I’m not selling anything.” He began to talk quickly. “I simply wanted to ask a very small favour of whoever happens to live here now. You see, I was born in this house.”

“你想见艾德蒙森先生吗？”管家——她一定一直是位管家——在这个时候问道。

“Do you want to see Mr. Edmundson? “ The housekeeper—for that must have been what she was—chose this moment to ask.

威廉姆斯默默地点了点头。他以后再也不想和这个女人打交道了，她一辈子的任务很明显就是拒绝、否认和保护这所房子，以防入侵者。如果她知道自己来提的是这个请求，她很有可能会纯粹是出于习惯而拒绝他。而这所房子的主人——这位艾德蒙森——肯定不会如此吝啬到......她打了个手势让他进去，让他跟着她穿过了门厅，来到客厅。以前他们一直就是这样称呼这间房间的，它比一层的其他房间要小很多，而且还没有阳光。正如威廉姆斯的父母以前做的那样，艾德蒙森一家也把它当作这样一个地方，把那些不期来访的客人先安顿在这里，直到他们想拜访的家庭成员想来接待他们为止。他突然感觉到，一切都没有变。这所房子里住着人，温暖，明亮，有生气，它会欢迎他的——在必要的时候，它会比房子现在的主人更欢迎他。

Williams nodded dumbly. He wanted to be done with this woman, whose function in life was obviously to refuse, to deny, to guard the house against intruders. If she knew the request he had come to make, she would be quite kikely to refuse it from sheer force of habit. The owner of the house, however—this Edmundson—could surely never be so grudging as to… She was motioning with her hand for him to enter, to follow her through the hall and into the drawing-room. That was what they had always called this room, rather small and sunless by comparison with the others on the ground floor. It was clear that the Edmundsons used it, just as his own parents had done, as a place where unexpected visitors could be put out of the way util the member of the family they had come to see could attend to them. Nothing has changed, he felt suddenly. The house was lived in, warmed, lighted, a living thing, able to welcome him—to extend its own welcome, if necessary, over the heads of the present occupiers.

但是这间屋子变得快让他认不出来了。家具是很现代的，但是那种无生气的现代感看起来是属于实验室和车间、而不是给人准备的。那些覆盖着胶皮的扶手椅，那让人敏感的沙发的冷漠，那毫无人情味的电炉，壁纸和窗帘上布满的繁乱的小图案，用象小孩子一样尖利的喊声拼命地叫着，这一切好像组成了一种死寂，交流的本质很明显是根本没能达到的。

The room, however, had changed almost out of recognition. The furniture was modern, with that dead modernity that seems to belong to the rubber-covered armchairs, the blankness of the sensible sofa, and the impersonal grin of the electric fire, the wallpaper and curtains contained busy little patterns which did their best to call out in high, childish voices. Yet anything in the nature of communication remained clearly out of their reach.

威廉姆斯等候房子主人的时候，思考着这家人的收入和品位。丈夫为新闻代办工作？妻子曾上过艺术学校？一定有某些因素导致了这种明快但却没有活力、乏味的现代感，明亮色彩的组合恰恰反映出那种无望的内心的空虚。他走到窗前，屋里电灯的光线使花园里显得暗了起来，但是仍有不少日光，他应该可以去......

As he waited, Williams thought about the income and tasted of these people. A husband who worked for a news agency? a wife who had been to art school? Something must have caused this bright but dead, thin layer of up-to-dateness, this combination of bright colours which only succeeded in conveying a hopeless, inner dullness.He moved to the window. The electric light in the room had made the garden seem dark, but there was plenty of daylight still, and he ought to be able to—

“抱歉让您久等了，”背后传来了一个声音，“您来找我是有事吧？”

来人就是艾德蒙森。他身体肥胖，长得象只青蛙，戴着眼镜，从外表看起来象位典型的成功商人。但是威廉姆斯从他的口音注意到，他以前肯定是个工人。这个男人对自己不太自信——也许就是因为这个——从外表看来自信而果断。

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said a voice behind him. “You wanted to see me about something.”

It was Edmundson. He was fat, frog-like, wore glasses, and from the outside looked a typical successful businessman. But his accent, Williams noticed, had clearly originally been working-class. The man was not altogether sure of himself but was—perhaps because of this—outwardly confident and decided.

“我叫威廉姆斯，”他把注意力从那双青蛙眼转到了庄重的礼节上。“我不想打搅您，但是我有一个小小的请求，希望您能满足。”

“My name is Williams.” He drew back from the frogeyes into a solemn formality. “I hate to disturb you, but I have a very small request which I hope you will grant.”

“让我看看是什么。”艾德蒙森用一种活泼但商人味的口气说道。

“不会花很长时间。我出生在这里，十五岁以前，我们一直住在这里，后来，我父亲去世了，我们搬到了肯特的一个地方，我母亲的一些亲戚离那儿不远。从那以后，我再也没回来过——甚至没回到这座镇上，更没有来过这所房子。现在我已经三十岁了，所以已经过去十五年了。”

“Let me kow what it is,” said Edmundson in a lively but business-like way.

“That waon’t take long. I was born here. We lived here till I was fifteen. Then my father died and we moved to a place in Kent to be near some relatives of my mother’s. I’ve never been back since—not even to the town, still less to this house. I’m thirty now, so that makes fifteen years.”

艾德梦森一直听着，他的表情在说“是吗？”。

“我父亲在我出生的时候，在花园里种了一棵树。他说，他想让这两种生命形式一起成长，虽然树显然要比我活得长久。那是一棵山毛榉。”

Edmundson waited. His expression said, “Well?”

“My father planted a tree in the garden when I was born. He said he wanted the two forms of life to grow up together, though of course it would outlive me. It was a beech.”

“是吗？”这时，艾德蒙森问道。

“我只想去看看那棵树，看看它长得有多大了。”

“非常自然的愿望。”艾德蒙森说道。

“Well?” Edmundson said it with his voice this time.

“I just wanted to look at the tree. See how big it had grown.”

“A very natural wish,” said Edmundson.

“我可以悄悄到花园里去看看它，然后围着房子周围转一圈。我不会再来打搅您们了，您能好心让我......”

“那棵树已经不存在了，”艾德蒙森毫无表情地打断了他。

“不存在了......？”

“ I could just slip into the garden and look at it, and then make my way round the side of the house. I needn’t disturb you again. It’s good of you to—“

“It doesn’t exist anymore,” Edmundson interrupted, flatly.

“It doesn’t …?”

“我把它砍了。它处于一个尴尬的位置，遮住一大片草地，而且也挡不住多少凤。”

“你……”

“您会记得，这里差不多总刮西南风。那棵树几乎当不了什么，它只能使那一片草地见不到阳光。所以在观察了一个夏天之后，我妻子和我都觉得没有那棵树会更好。”

“I had it cut down. It was in an awkward position. It shaded a large part of the lawn and it didn’t really break the wind much either.”

“you… “

“”The winds here, as you’ll remember, are mostly south-west. The tree hardly gave any shelter. All it did was to block the sunlight from that bit of the lawn. So my wife and I agreed, after trying it for one summer, that we’d be better off without it.”

刚说到“我的妻子”这几个字，艾德蒙森夫人就进来了，好象为了得到线索，她一直在透过钥匙孔偷听一样。但是人们只要看一下她的脸，就会知道她根本不可能透过钥匙口偷听。坦率、开朗、现代，那种气质、神态和感觉，自信中没有丝毫的无知和暗角。由于比丈夫年轻（他一定是五十多了，她刚刚三十岁），而且了解潮流，她显然把这当成了一种责任——那些家具！那些窗帘！——来展现她那一代的风格。

One the words “my wife”, Mrs. Edmundson entered, exactly as if she had been listening through the keyhole for her cue. Yet one look at her revealed a person who could never have listened at keyholes. Frank open, modern, all air and light and sensibleness, with no nonsense and no dark corners beyond the reach of consciousness. Younger than her husband (he must be almost fifty, she barely thirty) and conscious of the fact, she obviously saw it as a duty—the furniture! The curtains! –to represent her generation.

“这是我妻子，这位是威廉姆斯先生。”艾德蒙森用错了介绍方式，显然弄反了，先把女士介绍给先生了。可能是因为他出身工人阶级，不懂社交礼节，也许正相反，这出于一种真诚的愿望，将俗礼放到一边，对客人优待一些。威廉姆斯是永远也不会知道的。

“This is my wife. This is Mr. Williams,” Edmundson said, introducing them the wrong way round, the woman to the man. Perhaps this was because of a social awardness left over from his working-class days. Perhaps, on the other hand, it sprang from a sincere wish to set custom aside and give preference to the visitor. Williams would never know.

“我恐怕可怜的威廉姆斯先生要空跑一趟了，”他继续说道，试图用一种稳重、礼貌友善的方式来处理这种状况。“他出生在这里，你还记得我们砍掉的那棵山毛榉吗？就是为了纪念他的出生而栽下的。”

“I’m afraid poor Mr. Williams has had a journey for nothing,” he went on, trying to handle the situation with a heavy, polite pleasantness. “He was born in this house, and the beech tree we cut down—you remember –was planted to commemorate his birth.”

那女人说话的高嗓门使威廉姆斯心里有点恼火，他不安地把重心从一只脚移到了另一只脚。“‘纪念他的出生’使他听起来象一个死了的、秃了顶的政客。‘那绝不会’，那些政客说，‘占去我的生活’。”

Williams moved restlessly from one foot to the other, annoyed by the choice of high-sounding words. “To commemorate his birth” made him sound like a dead, bald-headed politician. “Hardly that,” he said. “To share my life.”

“是啊，它与您分享了一生中的四分之一世纪，”艾德蒙森说道，他那单调、苍白的声音在尽力让人听起来舒服些。“我们把它弄走时，它少说也有二十五年了。”他不原意说“我们把它砍了。”。

“Well, it shared a quarter of a century of your life,” Edmundson said, his dull, colourless voice trying its best to sound comforting. “It must have been at least twenty-five years old when we—removed it.” He didn’t like to say “we cut it down”.

这时，身穿明亮色彩的毛织衣服的妻子走得更近了，掌握了现场的主动权，她充满活力，颇为自信。“我真不明白，”她说，显然她很明白，”你的意思是说，威廉姆斯先生想去看看他的那棵树长得怎么样了吗？“她说话的语气试图想显示，而且确实已经显示出，她并不赞成那种小孩子气的愿望。

It was the wife, full of energy and sure of herself in her bright woolen dress, who now moved to take the situation. “I don’t quite understand,” she said, though she obviously understood perfectly.

“从一方面来说，是的”，威廉姆斯努力控制着自己的音调，使它平稳些。他憎恶这个女人，并且确信，她一直是谋杀他那棵树的幕后主使，她的小脑袋瓜里根本就没有感情，就象台机器。

“真可惜，”她轻轻喘了口气说道，“好吧，看起来这样一次奇特的寻找该结算了，是不是？你将不得不自己在没有影子的情况下度过余生了。”

“您不必取笑我。”威廉姆斯平静地说。

“我没有，我只是说，从现在起，您将不得不习惯于意识到又回到了您自己。”

突然威廉姆斯明白了，她一定是位心理学家。

“您的意思是说，我想来看看我的那棵树不对吗？”

“这样说并不严格，但是这是沉迷于过去，不是吗？”

“因为您早把它砍倒了它才变成了过去。如果它还活着，好好地长在那儿，它就是现在。”

“无稽之谈，如果您对现在感兴趣，任何树都行。您把那棵特殊的树当成了一个标志，因为它是您父亲种的。您应该回去让您父亲再来种一棵。”

“他已经去世了，”威廉姆斯说道，“他就是在这间屋子里去世的，从那以后，我们再也没能力住在这里了。”

“您生命的一部分仍然活在这里，这就是您回来看看的原因。”

“对。”

“但是您确实能明白您不能那样生活了吗？我的意思是说，我很遗憾您的树不在那里了，但对您来说，在某种程度上，这不是一件好事吗？知道您自己得独立地生活，而不是依赖在外部的环境上。”

“我猜，”威廉姆斯小心地控制自己别去打击她，“您说的外部环境指的是象我对父亲的怀念这样的事吗？”

“我说的是，”她不耐烦地一挥手，“所有那些让人迷恋而不能一直往前生活的废弃的东西。”

艾德蒙森，这位忙碌的人，打断了她。“好了，我想不出在那些方面讨论这件事有什么值得的地方。事实很清楚，我们买下房子后，花园就是我们的了，我们有权决定哪些树留下，哪些得砍掉。”这次他说这些话时，可能是从自己妻子那空洞的教科书般的谈话中获得了自信。“我觉得我们没有必要再耽搁威廉姆斯先生的时间了，除非他想和我们一起喝杯茶。”

威廉姆斯没有回答，他注视着艾德蒙森夫人。她的皮肤很粗糙，他注意到——上面全是张开的毛孔，而且在她这种年龄，皮肤太松弛了。他不知道，和她丈夫在一起，她能得到什么乐趣。如果他对她有点用的话，她的眼睛肯定会更明亮一些。她活在自己的身体上，而不是活在心理学的论文上。如果是那样的话，她就应该知道，有生命的东西是很重要的，她应该会知道，它们不仅仅是能不能给人遮荫的东西。

那有什么用呢？“谢谢您能邀请我喝茶，”他向两个人道谢，虽然他注意到她什么话也没说，“但我得告辞去车站了，很抱歉打搅你们却一无所获。”

艾德蒙森露出了一丝微笑，无疑在很大程度上是对把这次谈话引到了一个和平的结尾而感到很解脱。他的妻子生气地眨了眨眼睛，显然对威廉姆斯没有和她争论起来感到很失望。

“我知道您对我们很生气，”她说，那意思是希望威廉姆斯生气，“但是，也许以后您想起这件事的时候，您会发现我们帮了您一忙。”

“帮了我一忙？”威廉姆斯平静地说，但确实不感兴趣。在他的眼里，她已经属于过去了，属于那个她自己所声称的一文不值的过去了。

“把您从您父亲的阴影中解放出来，要试着用这种方式看问题。”

威廉姆斯半鞠了一躬，平静地说：“我会自己出去的。”他不想再见到那位管家，这会使他更难过。虽然过去了十五年，他的乡音并未改变，他应该知道通向前门的路。

他没经别人打搅就到了前门，转动把手走了出去。同屋里的死气沉沉相比，花园里显得那样欢快，充满了生命的喧嚣。一阵轻风吹过，树枝在跳舞，那些灌木——比黄昏时显得要高些——就象那些毛茸茸的小动物，等着人们去抚摸和喂食。

前门在他身后牢牢地关上了。艾德蒙森夫妇和管家已经消逝在了历史之中。威廉姆斯站在那儿，四处望了望。对他来说，他们已经把房子给破坏了，他们已经把弗朗西斯的的灵魂赶跑了，还有伴着它的自己那个小小的灵魂。但是这花园，它的那些激动人心的树影里却埋藏着一个秘密，有一种不可伤害的气息。那他把手指插进去成千上万次的土壤，那些青草和石块，当他只比它们高出三或四英尺时，在白天，他们就是那样清晰地展现在眼前——艾德蒙森夫人是不可能把这些东西消灭掉的，它们是属于他的，就象自己身上的细胞一样。

小径绕着房子通向了后花园。为什么不去看一眼呢？他的脚不由自主地沿着这条通向往昔的小路挪动起来。微风轻拂在没有戴帽子的头发上，他心潮起伏，满怀喜悦。

后花园要比他记忆中的大一些，现在一片狼籍（对于艾德蒙森夫妇，显然更关心屋里的生活）。黄昏之中，他那敏锐的眼光四处漫步。

那棵树在哪呢？他心里充满感激，至少该最后行个礼——来搜索一下那一片片残留的空气，如果它还活着，它的枝条应该高傲地被浓密的树叶和树皮包裹着。另外，他很好奇，一种直觉使他感到，那女人知道，这棵树是属于他的世界，与她的世界格格不入。于是他想知道，在她那毫无感情的怨怒下，她是否已下令，即使是树根也要从泥土中拔出来。或者他会找到一截整齐的锯掉的树桩，还能残留一点东西，他可以用手去触摸一下，最后祈祷一下。

在那儿！它一直在那儿！正好在草坪的那个角上......他的眼睛盯着那个地方，身子向那儿挪去。大概刚走了三步，就听到一个年幼的声音高声叫道：“站住！要不他们就看到你了！”

他犹豫地四处看了看。“你在哪里？”他向风影里问道。

“这儿，在树上。你想让我下来吗？你需要帮助吗？”

“是的，”威廉姆斯说道，“我需要帮助。”

树上传来了鞋子的沙沙声，一个男孩站在了他的身边。有七岁？还是八岁？一张严肃的小脸。四十年后他可能会长得象他父亲，但今天晚上他仍然是他自己。

“他们会发现你的，”小孩轻声说，“如果你不十分安静地站着，那儿有他们的观察哨。”他指着小屋的上面。

威廉姆斯，用成人的无知，开始以为“他们”指的是男孩的父母。但是小屋顶上的观察哨？

“他们是谁？”他压低了声音急切地问。

“爱基斯摩人。”男孩答道，仰头看着他。

“如果我安静地站着呢？”

“他们不会发现你。你会和这些树桩一样，混在它们里面。”

草坪上空荡荡的。现在威廉姆斯的那棵纪念出生的树已经没有了，唯一的一棵树在几码远的地方，就是孩子爬下来的那棵。

“是的，”威廉姆斯说道，“我知道那些爱基斯摩人不能在树桩中发现人，他们没有经验。”

“这对他们来说是全新的，”男孩解释道，“他们以前从没见过树，这是一座茂密的森林。你不能直穿过去，你得象这样移动。”他开始向前来回穿梭，在想象的树干中游来游去。

“爱基斯摩人拿什么武器？”威廉姆斯问道。

“弩，他们发射绑着石头尖的箭，如果有人要射你，你会被一下分成两半的。”

“弩，哦？”威廉姆斯望着想象中的树林问道，“当他们逼近时会用什么？”

“什么？”

“当他们肉搏战时。”

男孩摇了摇头，“他们从不肉搏战，离开了冰雪，他们就会死的。他们不能进树林，他们能做的，就是呆在满是冰雪的寒冷地方。就在草坪的边上，草坪上全是茂密的森林。”

蹲在这个敏感的小身体旁边，望着那些拿着弩的爱基斯摩人，威廉姆斯感到一股能治愈他身体创伤的纯粹的感激之情涌遍了全身。“草坪就是茂密的森林，”他自言自语地唱道，“他们能做的就是呆在冰冷的世界里。”

“谁派爱基斯摩人来这儿的？”他问道。

“没人派他们来，”孩子答道，“他们来这里只想离开冰雪，但是森林挡住了他们。他们能做的只是发射石头箭。早上我刚出来时，森林里全是他们的人。他们整夜都在射箭，我躺在床上都听见了。但是这没关系，他们从来不射鸟，他们对树也不会有什么伤害，因为这些树有一种特殊的硬皮。”

“你用这些石头箭做什么？你把它们捡起来了吗？”

“我把它们搜集起来了，我正在建一座有石头墙的城堡，这就是我在树林里做的事情——在那些箭落下的地方做一些标记，它们对我很有用。”

这时传来了一声轻声的呼唤，“戴维！喝茶了！”声音的主人听起来对房子以及保持干净整洁很是上心。

“那是艾格顿夫人，她给我做早餐和茶点，但是我和爸爸妈妈一起吃午餐。现在我得进去了，如果你呆在这里，小心那些爱基斯摩人。”

“我会象海象那样叫，”威廉姆斯说道，“他们可能会扔过来鱼叉，你可以把它们捡起来，你可以用它们做各种东西。”

“别让他们伤着你，”戴维提醒道，“他们是非常出色的射手。”

“哦，但我非常善于躲避，在树后面我会很安全的。”

“好吧，早上我会来找那些鱼叉的，谢谢。”他耸耸肩，向那叫着他名字的反复抱怨声中跑去。”

“草坪是茂密的森林，”威廉姆斯自言自语地笑着，开始很小心，后来就放开了。爱基斯摩人在小屋后面的黑暗角落里残忍地盯着他，“放箭！放箭！”他向他们叫着，“我是只海象！”因为不确定海象的声音是什么样的，他吹着小号，然后当鱼叉闪现在空中的时候，他一下跳到了树后，戴维会在早上找到一支、两支、三支闪亮的鱼叉。

吹着小号，他从一棵树跳到了另一棵树，想吸引他们的火力，但他们变得更小心了。在草坪的边上，他仔细地围着一个树桩看着，他突然认出了那截刚露出地面的整齐的圆树桩，那是他的树！从它的粗细，他可以大概计算出它的高度和树枝的伸展程度。

“你好，”他对它说道，眼光直视进它的最深处，“我回来了，我还活着，但是我并不重要，重要的是戴维，帮帮他，可以吗？让他赢得这场对爱基斯摩人的战斗。”

有一阵子，他在艾德蒙森夫人的眼睛里看到了自己，那神情冷淡而生气。大声对一棵甚至根本不存在在那里的树讲话！一想到她那紧张、不赞成的脸，威廉姆斯就不禁笑了起来。“爱基斯摩人！”他心花怒放地说道，小心地挪动着，围着树桩转着圈。威廉姆斯向后穿过草坪退了出来，当他最后一次踏上那条小路时，威廉姆斯转过身来再一次望着那花园，他感到在树枝的沙沙声中，夜色充满了生机。