little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第130章

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air　of　novelty　came　over　Mr　Pancks　with　this　designation；　'to　e　and
help。　I　showed　him；　Rigaud；　at　his　window；　to　Signor　Panco；　who　was
often　the　spy　in　the　day。　I　slept　at　night　near　the　door　of　the　house。
At　last　we　entered；　only　this　to…day；　and　now　you　see　him！　As　he　would
not　e　up　in　presence　of　the　illustrious　Advocate；'　such　was　Mr
Baptist's　honourable　mention　of　Mr　Rugg；　'we　waited　down　below　there；
together；　and　Signor　Panco　guarded　the　street。'

At　the　close　of　this　recital；　Arthur　turned　his　eyes　upon　the　impudent
and　wicked　face。　As　it　met　his；　the　nose　came　down　over　the　moustache
and　the　moustache　went　up　under　the　nose。　When　nose　and　moustache　had
settled　into　their　places　again；　Monsieur　Rigaud　loudly　snapped　his
fingers　half…a…dozen　times；　bending　forward　to　jerk　the　snaps　at　Arthur；
as　if　they　were　palpable　missiles　which　he　jerked　into　his　face。

'Now；　Philosopher！'　said　Rigaud。'What　do　you　want　with　me？'

'I　want　to　know；'　returned　Arthur；　without　disguising　his　abhorrence；
'how　you　dare　direct　a　suspicion　of　murder　against　my　mother's　house？'

'Dare！'　cried　Rigaud。　'Ho；　ho！　Hear　him！　Dare？　Is　it　dare？　By　Heaven；　my
small　boy；　but　you　are　a　little　imprudent！'

'I　want　that　suspicion　to　be　cleared　away；'　said　Arthur。　'You　shall
be　taken　there；　and　be　publicly　seen。　I　want　to　know；　moreover；
what　business　you　had　there　when　I　had　a　burning　desire　to　fling　you
down…stairs。　Don't　frown　at　me；　man！　I　have　seen　enough　of　you　to　know
that　you　are　a　bully　and　coward。　I　need　no　revival　of　my　spirits　from
the　effects　of　this　wretched　place　to　tell　you　so　plain　a　fact；　and　one
that　you　know　so　well。'

White　to　the　lips；　Rigaud　stroked　his　moustache；　muttering；　'By　Heaven；
my　small　boy；　but　you　are　a　little　promising　of　my　lady；　your
respectable　mother'……and　seemed　for　a　minute　undecided　how　to　act。
His　indecision　was　soon　gone。　He　sat　himself　down　with　a　threatening
swagger；　and　said：

'Give　me　a　bottle　of　wine。　You　can　buy　wine　here。　Send　one　of　your
madmen　to　get　me　a　bottle　of　wine。　I　won't　talk　to　you　without　wine。
e！　Yes　or　no？'

'Fetch　him　what　he　wants；　Cavalletto；'　said　Arthur；　scornfully；
producing　the　money。

'Contraband　beast；'　added　Rigaud；　'bring　Port　wine！　I'll　drink　nothing
but　Porto…Porto。'

The　contraband　beast；　however；　assuring　all　present；　with　his
significant　finger；　that　he　peremptorily　declined　to　leave　his　post　at
the　door；　Signor　Panco　offered　his　services。　He　soon　returned　with　the
bottle　of　wine：　which；　according　to　the　custom　of　the　place；　originating
in　a　scarcity　of　corkscrews　among　the　Collegians　（in　mon　with　a
scarcity　of　much　else）；　was　already　opened　for　use。

'Madman！　A　large　glass；'　said　Rigaud。

Signor　Panco　put　a　tumbler　before　him；　not　without　a　visible　conflict　of
feeling　on　the　question　of　throwing　it　at　his　head。

'Haha！'　boasted　Rigaud。　'Once　a　gentleman；　and　always　a　gentleman。

A　gentleman　from　the　beginning；　and　a　gentleman　to　the　end。　What
the　Devil！　A　gentleman　must　be　waited　on；　I　hope？　It's　a　part　of　my
character　to　be　waited　on！'

He　half　filled　the　tumbler　as　he　said　it；　and　drank　off　the　contents
when　he　had　done　saying　it。

'Hah！'　smacking　his　lips。　'Not　a　very　old　prisoner　that！　I　judge　by　your
looks；　brave　sir；　that　imprisonment　will　subdue　your　blood　much　sooner
than　it　softens　this　hot　wine。　You　are　mellowing……losing　body　and　colour
already。　I　salute　you！'

He　tossed　off　another　half　glass：　holding　it　up　both　before　and
afterwards；　so　as　to　display　his　small；　white　hand。

'To　business；'　he　then　continued。　'To　conversation。　You　have　shown
yourself　more　free　of　speech　than　body；　sir。'

'I　have　used　the　freedom　of　telling　you　what　you　know　yourself　to　be。
You　know　yourself；　as　we　all　know　you；　to　be　far　worse　than　that。'

'Add；　always　a　gentleman；　and　it's　no　matter。　Except　in　that　regard；　we
are　all　alike。　For　example：　you　couldn't　for　your　life　be　a　gentleman；
I　couldn't　for　my　life　be　otherwise。　How　great　the　difference！　Let　us　go
on。　Words；　sir；　never　influence　the　course　of　the　cards；　or　the　course
of　the　dice。　Do　you　know　that？　You　do？　I　also　play　a　game；　and　words　are
without　power　over　it。'

Now　that　he　was　confronted　with　Cavalletto；　and　knew　that　his　story　was
known……whatever　thin　disguise　he　had　worn；　he　dropped；　and　faced　it　out；
with　a　bare　face；　as　the　infamous　wretch　he　was。

'No；　my　son；'　he　resumed；　with　a　snap　of　his　fingers。　'I　play　my　game
to　the　end　in　spite　of　words；　and　Death　of　my　Body　and　Death　of　my　Soul！
I'll　win　it。　You　want　to　know　why　I　played　this　little　trick　that
you　have　interrupted？　Know　then　that　I　had；　and　that　I　have……do　you
understand　me？　have……a　modity　to　sell　to　my　lady　your　respectable
mother。　I　described　my　precious　modity；　and　fixed　my　price。　Touching
the　bargain；　your　admirable　mother　was　a　little　too　calm；　too　stolid；
too　immovable　and　statue…like。　In　fine；　your　admirable　mother　vexed　me。
To　make　variety　in　my　position；　and　to　amuse　myself……what！　a　gentleman
must　be　amused　at　somebody's　expense！……I　conceived　the　happy　idea　of
disappearing。　An　idea；　see　you；　that　your　characteristic　mother　and　my
Flintwinch　would　have　been　well　enough　pleased　to　execute。　Ah！　Bah；
bah；　bah；　don't　look　as　from　high　to　low　at　me！　I　repeat　it。　Well　enough
pleased；　excessively　enchanted；　and　with　all　their　hearts　ravished。　How
strongly　will　you　have　it？'

He　threw　out　the　lees　of　his　glass　on　the　ground；　so　that　they　nearly
spattered　Cavalletto。　This　seemed　to　draw　his　attention　to　him　anew。　He
set　down　his　glass　and　said：

'I'll　not　fill　it。　What！　I　am　born　to　be　served。　e　then；　you
Cavalletto；　and　fill！'

The　little　man　looked　at　Clennam；　whose　eyes　were　occupied　with　Rigaud；
and；　seeing　no　prohibition；　got　up　from　the　ground；　and　poured　out
from　the　bottle　into　the　glass。　The　blending；　as　he　did　so；　of　his　old
submission　with　a　sense　of　something　humorous；　the　striving　of　that
with　a　certain　smouldering　ferocity；　which　might　have　flashed　fire　in
an　instant　（as　the　born　gentleman　seemed　to　think；　for　he　had　a　wary
eye　upon　him）；　and　the　easy　yielding　of　all　to　a　good…natured；　careless；
predominant　propensity　to　sit　down　on　the　ground　again：　formed　a　very
remarkable　bination　of　character。

'This　happy　idea；　brave　sir；'　Rigaud　resumed　after　drinking；　'was　a
happy　idea　for　several　reasons。　It　amused　me；　it　worried　your　dear
mama　and　my　Flintwinch；　it　caused　you　agonies　（my　terms　for　a　lesson
in　politeness　towards　a　gentleman）；　and　it　suggested　to　all　the　amiable
persons　interested　that　your　entirely　devoted　is　a　man　to　fear。　By
Heaven；　he　is　a　man　to　fear！　Beyond　this；　it　might　have　restored　her　wit
to　my　lady　your　mother……might；　under　the　pressing　little　suspicion　your
wisdom　has　recognised；　have　persuaded　her　at　last　to　announce；　covertly；
in　the　journals；　that　the　difficulties　of　a　certain　contract　would　be
removed　by　the　appearance　of　a　certain　important　party　to　it。　Perhaps
yes；　perhaps　no。　But　that；　you　have　interrupted。　Now；　what　is　it　you
say？　What　is　it　you　want？'

Never　had　Clennam　felt　more　acutely　that　he　was　a　prisoner　in　bonds；
than　when　he　saw　this　man　before　him；　and　could　not　acpany　him　to　his
mother's　house。　All　the　undiscernible　difficulties　and　dangers　he　had
ever　feared　were　closing　in；　when　he　could　not　stir　hand　or　foot。

'Perhaps；　my　friend；　philosopher；　man　of　virtue；　Imbecile；　what　you
will；　perhaps；'　said　Rigaud；　pausing　in　his　drink　to　look　out　of　his
glass　with　his　horrible　smile；　'you　would　have　done　better　to　leave　me
alone？'

'No！　At　least；'　said　Clennam；　'you　are　known　to　be　alive　and　unharmed。
At　least　you　cannot　escape　from　these　two　witnesses；　and　they　can
produce　you　before　any　public　authorities；　or　before　hundreds　of
people！'

'But　will　not　produce　me　before　one；'　said　Rigaud；　snapping　his
fingers　again　with　an　air　of　triumphant　menace。　'To　the　Devil　with　your
witnesses！　To　the　Devil　with　your　produced！　To　the　Devil　with　yourself！
What！　Do　I　know　what　I　know；　for　that？　Have　I　my　modity　on　sale；　for
that？　Bah；　poor　debtor！　You　have　interrupted　my　little　project。　Let　it
pass。　How　then？　What　remains？　To　you；　nothing；　to　me；　all。　Produce
me！　Is　that　what　you　want？　I　will　produce　myself；　only　too　quickly。
Contrabandist！

Give　me　pen；　ink；　and　paper。'

Cavalletto　got　up　again　as　before；　and　laid　them　before　him　in　his
former　manner。　Rigaud；　after　some　villainous　thinking　and　smiling；
wrote；　and　read　aloud；　as　follows：


'To　MRS　CLENNAM。

'Wait　answer。

'Prison　of　the　Marshalsea。　'At　the　apartment　of　your　son。

'Dear　Madam；……I　am　in　despair　to　be　informed　to…day　by　our　prisoner　here
（who　has　had　the　goodness　to　employ　spies　to　seek　me；　living　for　politic
reasons　in　retirement）；　that　you　have　had　fears　for　my　safety。

'Reassure　yourself；　dear　madam。　I　am　well；　I　am　strong　and　constant。

'With　the　greatest　impatience　I　should　fly　to　your　house；　but　that　I
foresee　it　to　be　possible；　under　the　circumstances；　that　you　will　not
yet　have　quite　definitively　arranged　the　little　proposition　I　have　had
the　honour　to　submit　to　you。　I　name　one　week　from　this　day；　for　a　last
final　visit　on　my　part；　when　you　will　unconditionally　accept　it　or
reject　it；　with　its　train　of　consequences。

'I　suppress　my　ardour　to　embrace　you　and　achieve　this　interesting
business；　in　order　that　you　may　have　leisure　to　adjust　its　details　to
our　perfect　mutual　satisfaction。

'In　the　meanwhile；　it　is　not　too　much　to　propose　（our　prisoner　having
deranged　my　housekeeping）；　that　my　expenses　of　lodging　and　nourishment
at　an　hotel　shall　be　paid　by　you。　'Receive；　dear　madam；　the　assurance　of
my　highest　and　most　distinguished　consideration；


　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　'RIGAUD　BLANDOIS。

'A　thousand　friendships　to　that　dear　Flintwinch。

'I　kiss　the　hands　of　Madame　F。'


When　he　had　finished　this　epistle；　Rigaud　folded　it　and　tossed　it　with
a　flourish　at　Clennam's　feet。　'Hola　you！　Apropos　of　producing；　let
somebody　produce　that　at　its　address；　and　produce　the　answer　here。'

'Cavalletto；'　said　Arthur。　'Will　you　take　this　fellow's　letter？'

But；　Cavalletto's　significant　finger　again　expressing　that　his　post　was
at　the　door　to　keep　watch　over　Rigaud；　now　he　had　found　him　with　so　much
trouble；　and　that　the　duty　of　his　post　was　to　sit　on　the　floor　backed　up
by　the　door；　looking　at　Rigaud　and　holding　his　own　ankles；……Signor　Panco
once　more　volunteered。　His　services　being　accepted；　Cavalletto　suffered
the　door　to　open　barely　wide　enough　to　admit　of　his　squeezing　himself
out；　and　immediately　shut　it　on　him。

'Touch　me　with　a　finger；　touch　me　y
superiority　as　I　sit　here　drinking　my　wine　at　my　pleasure；'　said　Rigaud；
'and　I　follow　the　letter　and　cancel　my　week's　grace。　You　wanted　me？　You
have　got　me！　How　do　you　like　me？'

'You　know；'　returned　Clennam；　with　a　bitter　sense　of　his　helplessness；
'that　when　I　sought　you；　I　was　not　a　prisoner。'

'To　the　Devil　with　you　and　your　prison；'　retorted　Rigaud；　leisurely；
as　he　took　from　his　pocket　a　case　containing　the　materials　for　making
cigarettes；　and　employed　his　facile　hands　in　folding　a　few　for　present
use；　'I　care　for　neither　of　you。　Contrabandist！　A　light。'

Again　Cavalletto　got　up；　and　gave　him　what　he　wanted。　There　had　been
something　dreadful　in　the　noiseless　skill　of　his　cold；　white　hands；　with
the　fingers　lithely　twisting　about　and　twining　one　over　another　like
serpents。　Clennam　could　not　prevent　himself　from　shuddering　inwardly；　as
if　he　had　been　looking　on　at　a　nest　of　those　creatures。

'Hola；　Pig！'　cried　Rigaud；　with　a　noisy　stimulating　cry；　as　if
Cavalletto　were　an　Italian　horse　or　mule。　'What！　The　infernal　old　jail
was　a　respectable　one　to　this。　There　was　dignity　in　the　bars　and　stones
of　that　place。　It　was　a　prison　for　men。　But　this？　Bah！　A　hospital　for
imbeciles！'

He　smoked　his　cigarette　out；　with　his　ugly　smile　so　fixed　upon　his　face
that　he　looked　as　though　he　were　smoking　with　his　drooping　beak　of　a
nose；　rather　than　with　his　mouth；　like　a　fancy　in　a　weird　picture。　When
he　had　lighted　a　second　cigarette　at　the　still　burning　end　of　the　first；
he　said　to　Clennam：

'One　must　pass　the　time　in　the　madman's　absence。　One　must　talk。　One
can't　drink　strong　wine　all　day　long；　or　I　would　have　another　bottle。
She's　handsome；　sir。　Though　not　exactly　to　my　taste；　still；　by
the　Thunder　and　the　Lightning！　handsome。　I　felicitate　you　on　your
admiration。'

'I　neither　know　nor　ask；'　said　Clennam；　'of　whom　you　speak。'

'Della　bella　Gowana；　sir；　as　they　say　in　Italy。　Of　the　Gowan；　the　fair
Gowan。'

'Of　whose　husband　you　were　the……follower；　I　think？'

'Sir？　Follower？　You　are　insolent。　The　friend。'

'Do　you　sell　all　your　friends？'

Rigaud　took　his　cigarette　from　his　mouth；　and　eyed　him　with　a　momentary
revelation　of　surprise。　But　he　put　it　between　his　lips　again；　as　he
answered　with　coolness：

'I　sell　anything　that　mands　a　price。　How　do　your　lawyers　live；　your
politicians；　your　intriguers；　your　men　of　the　Exchange？　How　do　you　live？
How　do　you　e　here？　Have　you　sold　no　friend？　Lady　of　mine！　I　rather
think；　yes！'

Clennam　turned　away　from　him　towards　the　window；　and　sat　looking　out　at
the　wall。

'Effectively；　sir；'　said　Rigaud；　'Society　sells　itself　and　sells　me：　and
I　sell　Society。　I　perceive　you