狄更斯雙語小說:《董貝父子》第22章Part 1

Mr Carker the Manager sat at his desk, smooth and soft as usual, reading those letters which were reserved for him to open, backing them occasionally with such memoranda and references as their business purport required, and parceling them out into little heaps for distribution through the several departments of the House. The post had come in heavy that morning, and Mr Carker the Manager had a good deal to do.
The general action of a man so engaged - pausing to look over a bundle of papers in his hand, dealing them round in various portions, taking up another bundle and examining its contents with knitted brows and pursed-out lips - dealing, and sorting, and pondering by turns - would easily suggest some whimsical resemblance to a player at cards. The face of Mr Carker the Manager was in good keeping with such a fancy. It was the face of a man who studied his play, warily: who made himself master of all the strong and weak points of the game: who registered the cards in his mind as they fell about him, knew exactly what was on them, what they missed, and what they made: who was crafty to find out what the other players held, and who never betrayed his own hand.
The letters were in various languages, but Mr Carker the Manager read them all. If there had been anything in the offices of Dombey and Son that he could read, there would have been a card wanting in the pack. He read almost at a glance, and made combinations of one letter with another and one business with another as he went on, adding new matter to the heaps - much as a man would know the cards at sight, and work out their combinations in his mind after they were turned. Something too deep for a partner, and much too deep for an adversary, Mr Carker the Manager sat in the rays of the sun that came down slanting on him through the skylight, playing his game alone.
And although it is not among the instincts wild or domestic of the cat tribe to play at cards, feline from sole to crown was Mr Carker the Manager, as he basked in the strip of summer-light and warmth that shone upon his table and the ground as if they were a crooked dial-plate, and himself the only figure on it. With hair and whiskers deficient in colour at all times, but feebler than common in the rich sunshine, and more like the coat of a sandy tortoise-shell cat; with long nails, nicely pared and sharpened; with a natural antipathy to any speck of dirt, which made him pause sometimes and watch the falling motes of dust, and rub them off his smooth white hand or glossy linen: Mr Carker the Manager, sly of manner, sharp of tooth, soft of foot, watchful of eye, oily of tongue, cruel of heart, nice of habit, sat with a dainty steadfastness and patience at his work, as if he were waiting at a mouse's hole.
At length the letters were disposed of, excepting one which he reserved for a particular audience. Having locked the more confidential correspondence in a drawer, Mr Carker the Manager rang his bell.
'Why do you answer it?' was his reception of his brother.
'The messenger is out, and I am the next,' was the submissive reply.
'You are the next?' muttered the Manager. 'Yes! Creditable to me! There!'
Pointing to the heaps of opened letters, he turned disdainfully away, in his elbow-chair, and broke the seal of that one which he held in his hand.
'I am sorry to trouble you, James,' said the brother, gathering them up, 'but - '
'Oh! you have something to say. I knew that. Well?'
Mr Carker the Manager did not raise his eyes or turn them on his brother, but kept them on his letter, though without opening it.
'Well?' he repeated sharply.
'I am uneasy about Harriet.'
'Harriet who? what Harriet? I know nobody of that name.'
'She is not well, and has changed very much of late.'
'She changed very much, a great many years ago,' replied the Manager; 'and that is all I have to say.
'I think if you would hear me -
'Why should I hear you, Brother John?' returned the Manager, laying a sarcastic emphasis on those two words, and throwing up his head, but not lifting his eyes. 'I tell you, Harriet Carker made her choice many years ago between her two brothers. She may repent it, but she must abide by it.'
'Don't mistake me. I do not say she does repent it. It would be black ingratitude in me to hint at such a thing,' returned the other. 'Though believe me, James, I am as sorry for her sacrifice as you.'
'As I?' exclaimed the Manager. 'As I?'
'As sorry for her choice - for what you call her choice - as you are angry at it,' said the Junior.
'Angry?' repeated the other, with a wide show of his teeth.
'Displeased. Whatever word you like best. You know my meaning. There is no offence in my intention.'
'There is offence in everything you do,' replied his brother, glancing at him with a sudden scowl, which in a moment gave place to a wider smile than the last. 'Carry those papers away, if you please. I am busy.
His politeness was so much more cutting than his wrath, that the Junior went to the door. But stopping at it, and looking round, he said:
'When Harriet tried in vain to plead for me with you, on your first just indignation, and my first disgrace; and when she left you, James, to follow my broken fortunes, and devote herself, in her mistaken affection, to a ruined brother, because without her he had no one, and was lost; she was young and pretty. I think if you could see her now - if you would go and see her - she would move your admiration and compassion.'
The Manager inclined his head, and showed his teeth, as who should say, in answer to some careless small-talk, 'Dear me! Is that the case?' but said never a word.

經理卡克先生坐在辦公桌前，像平日一樣，臉孔光滑，皮膚柔嫩，正閱讀着那些正等待他去拆開的信件，有時還按照信件業務內容的要求寫上批註和指示，並把它們區分成幾個小堆，以便分送到公司的各個不同部門。這天早上收到大量信件，經理卡克先生有許多工作要做。
從事於這種工作的人的動作——看着手中的一疊公文，把它們分成幾個不同的部分，拿起另一疊公文，皺着眉頭，噘着嘴脣，研究着它們的內容——輪流不斷地處理，分類，思考着——，很容易使人聯想到這與玩牌的人有某些奇異的相似之處。經理卡克先生的臉孔完全符合這個想法。這是一個精心研究紙牌的人的臉孔：他使自己成爲行家能手，完全懂得怎樣打牌是上算，怎樣打牌是失策；他把所有在他面前打出來的牌都記在心上，準確無誤地知道哪些牌已經打出來了。哪些牌還沒有打了，它們能搭配成什麼；他巧妙地推算出其他人手上有些什麼牌，但卻從不泄露他自己手上的牌。
信件是用各種語言寫的，但是經理卡克先生把它們全都看過。如果董貝父子公司的辦公室中有什麼東西他·不·能看的話，那就好像一副牌中缺少了一張似的。他差不多匆匆溜上一眼就把一個信件看過，然後一邊看一邊把一封信和另一封信分在一起，把一件業務和另一件業務搭配在一起，同時在小堆上增添上新的材料，這很像一個看一眼就能把好多牌認出來的人，在配牌之後，就在心中設想好它們如何組合一樣。作爲打牌的搭檔來說，他是有些太狡猾了；作爲打牌的對手來說，他是太老奸巨猾了，經理卡克先生就這樣坐在從天窗斜照到他身上的陽光中，獨自玩着他的紙牌。
一長條夏日的陽光照射到桌子和地面，桌子和地面彷彿是一個彎曲的日晷儀，坐在陽光中取暖的經理卡克先生本人是這個日晷議上唯一的身形；雖然不論野貓還是家貓都沒有玩牌的天性，但這時候的經理卡克先生卻從頭到腳都很像是隻貓。他的頭髮和連鬢鬍子一直缺乏色澤，在明亮的陽光中就比平時更加顯得暗淡，更加像那沙色的玳瑁貓身上的毛了；他的長長的指甲削得漂亮、尖利；他生性厭惡任何細小的污點，所以不時停下來注視着正在落下的微塵，把它們從他光滑的手上或光亮的亞麻布衣服上拂去；經理卡克先生態度狡猾，牙齒銳利，腳步柔軟，眼睛機警，舌頭油滑，心地殘酷，服裝漂亮，他就這樣極爲堅定和耐心地坐在那裏工作，彷彿他正在一個耗子洞口守候着似的。
終於他把所有的信件都處理完了，只有一封他留着準備仔細閱讀。經理卡克先生把比較機密的信件都鎖到一個抽屜裏以後，按了一下鈴。
“爲什麼是·你應聲前來？”他這樣接待他的哥哥。
“信差出去了。除了他，就數我的職位最低了，”這是恭順的回答。
“除了他，就數你的職位最低了？”經理卡克低聲說道，“不錯！這是我的莫大光榮！那裏！”
他指着那一堆拆開的信件，在扶手椅中不屑一顧地轉開身子，把手上拿着的那封信的封印撕破。
“對不起，我不打攪你了，詹姆士，”他的哥哥收集着信件，說道，“不過——”
“哦，你想跟我說話，我早知道這點。唔？”
經理卡克先生沒有把眼睛擡起來，也沒有把它們轉向他的哥哥，而是繼續停留在那封信上，雖然他還沒有把它展開。
“唔？”他尖刻地重複了一聲。
“我爲哈里特感到不安。”
“哈里特是誰？哪一位哈里特？我不認識叫這名字的人。”
“她身體不好，最近變化很大。”
“她好多年以前就變化很大，”經理回答道，“這就是我所要說的一切。”
“我想如果你肯聽我說一說——”
“爲什麼我要聽你說，約翰哥哥？”經理回答道，他在最後四個字上加上諷刺的強調語氣，同時把頭一仰，但沒有擡起眼睛。“我告訴你，哈里特·卡克好多年以前就已在她的兩個兄弟之間作出了選擇。她可以後悔這一點，但是她必須繼續堅持下去。”
“別誤會了我的意思。我不是說她真的後悔了。我要是暗示這樣的事，我真是極大的忘恩負義了，”那一位回答道，“雖然，請相信我，詹姆士，我和你一樣爲她作出的犧牲而難過。”
“和我一樣？”經理喊道，“和我一樣嗎？”
“我爲她的選擇——爲你所說的她的選擇而難過，就和你爲它而發怒一樣，”職位低的那一位說道。
“發怒？”另一位露出寬闊的牙齒，重複道。
“不高興。你愛用什麼字眼都可以。你明白我的意思。我沒有冒犯你的意圖。”
“你不論做什麼事情都在冒犯我。”他的弟弟突然繃着臉、皺着眉頭向他怒目而視，回答道；片刻之後又露出了比先前更寬闊的微笑。“勞駕你，把這些公文拿走吧。我忙着。”
他的禮貌比憤怒尖刻得多，所以職位低的那一位就向門口走去。但是他在門口停住，向四周看了一下，說道：
“當你第一次正當地表示憤怒和我第一次蒙受恥辱的時候，哈里特曾經徒勞地試圖在你面前爲我求情；後來她離開了你，詹姆士，來分擔我的不幸的命運；在她用錯了的感情的影響下，她把她自己獻身給一位身敗名裂的弟弟，因爲沒有她他就沒有什麼人了，他就會死去；那時候她年輕，漂亮。我想如果你現在看到她——如果你肯去看她的話，她會引起你的欽佩和憐憫的。”
經理低着頭，露出牙齒，似乎想要回答無足輕重的什麼閒聊似地說一句，“哎呀，這是真的嗎？”可是他卻一句話也沒有說。