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-<title>CHAPTER XV</title>
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-<h2 class="h21"><a id="a612"></a><a id="a613"></a><a id="a614"></a><a id="a615"></a><a id="a616"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
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-<p class="p28"><span class="t25">ERNEST GETS INTO TROUBLE</span></p>
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-<p class="p38"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img26.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img26.jpg"/></span></p>
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-<p class="p29"><span class="t29">W</span><span class="t28">HEN</span><span class="t27"> M</span><span class="t28">R</span><span class="t27">. A</span><span class="t28">LSTON</span><span class="t27"> </span>and Ernest reached the hotel, there was still a quarter of an hour to elapse before the <span class="t31">table d’hôte</span>, so after washing his hands and putting on a black coat, Ernest went down into the coffee-room. There was only one other person in it, a tall fair Frenchwoman, apparently about thirty years of age. She was standing by the empty fireplace, her arm upon the mantelpiece, and a lace pocket-handkerchief in her hand; and Ernest’s first impression of her was that she was handsome and much over-dressed. There was a newspaper upon the mantelpiece, which he desired to get possession of. As he advanced for this purpose, the lady dropped her handkerchief. Stooping down he picked it out of the grate and handed it to her.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Mille remerciments, monsieur,” she said, with a little curtsey.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Du tout, madame?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Ah, monsieur parle français?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Mais oui, madame.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">And then they drifted into a conversation, in the course of which Ernest learned that madame thought St. Peter’s Port very dull; that she had been there three days with her friends, and was nearly dead <span class="t31">de tristesse</span>; that she was going, however, to the public dance at the “Hall” that night. “Of course monsieur would be there;” and many other things, for madame had a considerable command of language.</p>
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-<p class="p34">In the middle of all this the door opened, and another lady of much the same cut as madame entered, followed by two young men. The first of these had a face of the commonplace English type, rather a good-humoured face; but when he saw the second, Ernest started, it was so like his own, as his would become if he were to spend half a dozen years in drinking, dicing, late hours, and their concomitants. The man to whom this face belonged was evidently a gentleman, but he looked an ill-tempered one, and very puny and out of health; at least so thought Ernest.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“It is time for dinner, Camille,” said the gentleman to madame, at the same time favouring Ernest with a most comprehensive scowl.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Madame appeared not to understand, and made some remark to Ernest.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“It is time for dinner, Camille,” said the gentleman again, in a savage voice. This time she lifted her head and looked at him.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“<span class="t31">Din-nare, dinnare!</span> quest-que c’est que <span class="t31">din-nare?</span>”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“<span class="t31">Table d’hôte</span>,” said the gentleman.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“O, pardon;” and with a little bow and most fascinating smile to Ernest, she took the gentleman’s extended arm and sailed away.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Why did you pretend not to understand me?” Ernest heard him ask, and she saw her shrug her shoulders in reply. The other gentleman followed with his companion, and after him came Ernest. When he reached the <span class="t31">salle-à-manger</span> he found that the only chair vacant at the table was one next to his friend of the <span class="t31">salon</span>. Indeed, had he thought of it, it might have struck him that madame had contrived to keep that chair vacant, for on his approach she gathered together the folds of her silk dress, which had almost hidden it, and welcomed him with a little nod.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Ernest took the chair, and forthwith madame entered into a most lively conversation with him, a course of proceeding that appeared to be extremely distasteful to the gentleman on her right, who pished and pshawed and pushed away his plate in a manner that soon became quite noticeable. But madame talked serenely on, quite careless of his antics, till at last he whispered something to her that caused the blood to mount to her fair cheek.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Mais tais-toi, donc,” Ernest heard her answer, and next moment — the subsequent history of our hero demands that the truth should be told — it was his turn to colour, for, alas! there was no doubt about it, he distinctly felt madame’s little foot pressed upon his own. He took up his wine and drank a little to hide his confusion; but whether he had or had not the moral courage to withdraw from the situation, by placing his toes under the more chilly but safe guardianship of the chair-legs, history saith not; let us hope and presume that he had. But if this was so or not he did not get on very well with his dinner, for the situation was novel and not conducive to appetite. Presently Mr. Alston, who was sitting opposite, addressed him across the table.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Are you going to the dance here to-night, Mr. Kershaw?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">To Ernest’s surprise, the gentleman on the other side of madame answered, with an astonished look:</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Yes, I am going.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I beg your pardon,” said Mr. Alston, “I was speaking to the gentleman on your left.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Oh, indeed! I thought you said Kershaw.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Yes, I did; the gentleman’s name is Kershaw, I think.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Yes,” put in Ernest, “my name is Kershaw.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“That is odd,” said the other gentleman, “so is mine. I did not know that there were any other Kershaws.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Nor did I,” answered Ernest, “except Sir Hugh Kershaw;” and his face darkened as he pronounced the name.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I am Sir Hugh Kershaw’s son; my name is Hugh Kershaw,” was the reply.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Indeed! Then we are cousins, I suppose; for I am his nephew, the son of his brother Ernest.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">Hugh Kershaw the elder did not receive this intelligence with even the moderate amount of enthusiasm that might have been expected; he simply lifted his scanty eyebrows, and said, “Oh, I remember, my uncle left a son;” then he turned and made some remark to the gentleman who sat next him that made the latter laugh.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Ernest felt the blood rise to his cheeks; there was something very insolent about his cousin’s tone.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Shortly afterwards the dinner came to an end, and madame with another fascinating smile, retired. As for Ernest, he smoked a pipe with Mr. Alston, and about nine o’clock strolled over with him to the Hall, or Assembly Rooms, a building largely composed of glass, where thrice a week, during the season, the visitors at St. Peter’s Port adjoined to dance, flirt, and make merry.</p>
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-<p class="p34">One of the first sights that caught his eye was a fair creature in evening dress, and with conspicuously white shoulders, in whom he recognised madame. She was sitting near the door, and appeared to be watching it. Ernest bowed to her, and was about to pass on; but, pursuing her former tactics, she dropped the bouquet she was carrying. He stooped, picked it up, returned it, and again made as though he would pass on, when she addressed him, just as the band struck up.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Ah, que c’est belle, la musique! Monsieur valse, n’est-ce pas?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">In another minute they were floating down the room together. As they passed along, Ernest saw his cousin standing in the corner, looking at him with no amiable air. Madame saw his glance.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Ah,” she said, “Monsieur Hugh ne valse pas, il se grise; il a l’air jaloux, n’est-ce pas?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">Ernest danced three times with this fair enslaver, and with their last waltz the ball came to an end. Just then his cousin came up, and they all, including Mr. Alston, walked together along the steep streets, which were now quite deserted, to the door of the hotel. Here Ernest said good-night to madame, who extended her hand. He took it, and as he did so he felt a note slipped into it, which, not being accustomed to such transactions, he clumsily dropped. It was the ball programme, and there was something written across it in pencil. Unfortunately, he was not the only one who saw this; his cousin, Hugh, who had evidently been drinking, saw it too, and tried to pick up the programme, but Ernest was too quick for him.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Give me that,” said his cousin, hoarsely.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Ernest answered by putting it into his pocket.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“What is written on that programme?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I don’t know.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“What have you written on that programme, Camille?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Mon Dieu, mais vous m’ennuyez!” was the answer.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I insist upon your giving me that!” with an oath.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Monsieur est ‘<span class="t31">gentleman</span>.’ Monsieur ne la rendra pas,” said madame, with a meaning glance; and then turning, she entered the hotel.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I am not going to give it to you,” said Ernest.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“You shall give it to me.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Is this lady your wife?” asked Ernest.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“That is my affair; give me that note.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I shall not give it to you,” said Ernest, whose temper was rapidly rising. “I don’t know what is on it, and I don’t wish to know; but whatever it is, the lady gave it to me, and not to you. She is not your wife, and you have no right to ask for it.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">His cousin Hugh turned livid with fury. At the best of times he was an evil-tempered man; and now, inflamed as he was by drink and jealousy, he looked a perfect fiend.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Damn you!” he hissed, “you half-bred cur; I suppose that you get your —— manners from your —— of a mother!”</p>
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-<p class="p34">He did not get any further; for at this point Ernest knocked him into the gutter, and then stood over him, very quiet and pale, and told him that if ever he dared to let a disrespectful word about his mother pass his lips again, he (Ernest) would half-kill him (Hugh). Then he let him get up.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Hugh Kershaw rose, and turning, whispered something to his friend, who had sat next him at dinner, a man about thirty years of age, and with a military air about him. His friend listened and pulled his large moustache thoughtfully. Then he addressed Ernest with the utmost politeness:</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I am Captain Justice, of the —— Hussars. Of course, Mr. Kershaw, you are aware that you cannot indulge yourself in the luxury of knocking people down without hearing more about it. Have you any friend with you?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">Ernest shook his head as he answered: “This,” indicating Mr. Alston, who had been an attentive observer of everything that had passed, “is the only gentleman I know in the town, and I cannot ask him to mix himself up in my quarrels.” Ernest was beginning to understand that this quarrel was a very serious business.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“All right, my lad,” said Mr. Alston quietly, “I will stand by you.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Really, I have no right — —” began Ernest.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Nonsense! It is one of our colonial customs to stick by one another.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Mr. Justice — —”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Captain Justice,” put in that gentleman, with a bow.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Captain Justice, my name is Alston. I am very much at your service.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">Captain Justice turned to Hugh Kershaw, whose clothes were dripping from the water in the gutter, and after whispering with him for a moment, said aloud, “If I were you, Kershaw, I should go and change those clothes; you will catch cold.” And then, addressing Mr. Alston, “I think the smoking-room is empty. Shall we go and have a chat?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">Mr. Alston assented, and they went in together. Ernest followed; but having lit his pipe, sat down in a far corner of the room. Presently, Mr. Alston called him.</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Look here, Kershaw, this is a serious business, and as you are principally concerned, I think you had better give your own answer. To be brief, your cousin, Mr. Hugh Kershaw, demands that you should apologise in writing for having struck him.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I am willing to do that if he will apologise for the terms he used in connection with my mother.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Ah!” said the gallant Captain, “the young gentleman is coming to reason.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“He also demands that you should hand over the note you received from the lady.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“That I certainly shall not do,” he answered; and drawing the card from his pocket, he tore it into fragments unread.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Captain Justice bowed and left the room. In a few minutes he returned, and, addressing Mr. Alston and Ernest, said:</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Mr. Kershaw is not satisfied with what you offer to do. He declines to apologise for any expression that he may have used with reference to your mother, and he now wishes you to choose between signing an apology, which I shall dictate, or meeting him to-morrow morning. You must remember that we are in Guernsey, where you cannot insult a man on the payment of forty shillings.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">Of course, this view was an entirely incorrect one. Although Guernsey has a political constitution of its own, many of its laws being based upon the old Norman-French customs, and judicial proceedings being carried on in French, &c., it is quite as criminal an act to fight a duel there as in England, as Captain Justice himself afterwards found out to his cost. But they none of them knew that.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Ernest felt the blood run to his heart. He understood now what Captain Justice meant. He answered simply:</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I shall be very happy to meet my cousin in whatever place and way you and Mr. Alston may agree upon;” and then he returned to his chair, and gave himself up to the enjoyment of his pipe and an entirely new set of sensations.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Captain Justice gazed after him pityingly. “I am sorry for him,” he said to Mr. Alston. “Kershaw is, I believe, a good shot with pistols. I suppose you will choose pistols. It would be difficult to get swords in such a hurry. He is a fine young fellow. Took it coolly, by George! Well, I don’t think that he will trouble the world much longer.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“This is a silly business, and likely to land us all in a nasty mess. Is there no way out of it?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“None that I know of, unless your young friend will eat dirt. He is a nasty-tempered fellow, Kershaw, and wild about that woman, over whom he has spent thousands. Nor is he likely to forgive being rolled in the gutter. You had better get your man to give in, for if you don’t, Kershaw will kill him.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“It is no good talking of it. I have lived a rough life, and know what men are made of. He is not of that sort. Besides, your man is in the wrong, not that boy. If anybody spoke of my mother like that <span class="t31">I</span> would shoot him.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Very good, Mr. Alston. And now about the pistols; I have none.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I have a pair of Smith & Wesson revolvers that I bought yesterday to take out to Africa with me. They throw a very heavy bullet, Captain Justice.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Too heavy. If one of them is hit anywhere in the body — —” He did not finish the sentence.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Mr. Alston nodded. “We must put them twenty paces apart, to give them a chance of missing. And now about the place and the time?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“I know a place on the beach, about a mile and a half from here, that will do very well. You go down that street till you strike the beach, then turn to your right, and follow the line of the sea till you come to a deserted hut or cottage. There we will meet you.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“At what time?”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Let me see; shall we say a quarter to five. It will be light enough for us then.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“Very good. The Weymouth boat leaves at half-past six. I am going to see about getting my things ready to go to meet it. I should advise you to do the same, Captain Justice. We had better not return here after it is over.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">“No.”</p>
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-<p class="p34">Then they parted.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Luckily the manager of the hotel had not gone to bed; so the various parties concerned were able to pay their bills, and make arrangements about their luggage being sent to meet the early boat, without exciting the slightest suspicion. Ernest wrote a note, and left it to be given to his friend when he should arrive on the morrow, in which he stated mysteriously that business had called him away. He could not help smiling to himself sadly when he thought that his business might be of a sort that it would take all eternity to settle.</p>
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-<p class="p34">Then he went to his room and wrote two letters, one to Eva and one to Dorothy. Mr. Alston was to post them if anything happened to him. The first was of a passionate nature, and breathed hopes of reunion in another place — ah, how fondly the poor human heart clings to that idea! — the second collected and sensible enough. The letters finished, following Mr. Alston’s advice, he undressed and took a bath; then he said his prayers — the prayers his mother had taught him — put on a quiet dark suit of clothes, and went and sat by the open window. The night was very still and fragrant with the sweet strong breath of the sea. Not a sound came from the quaint old town beneath — all was at peace. Ernest, sitting there, wondered whether he would live to see another night, and, if not, what the nights were like in the land whither he was journeying. As he thought of it the grey damps that hide that unrisen world from our gaze struck into his soul and made him feel afraid. Not afraid of death, but afraid of the empty loneliness beyond it — of the cold air of an infinite space in which nothing human can live. Would his mother meet him there, he wondered, or would she put him from her, coming with blood upon his hands? Next he thought of Eva, and in his solitude a tear gathered in his dark eyes, it seemed so hard to go to that other place without her.</p>
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
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+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd">
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+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en">
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+<head>
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="application/xhtml+xml; charset=utf-8"/>
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+<meta name="Generator" content="Atlantis Word Processor 4.0.6.6"/>
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+<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css"/>
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+<title>第十五章</title>
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+</head>
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+<body>
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+<h2 class="h21"><a id="a612"></a><a id="a613"></a><a id="a614"></a><a id="a615"></a><a id="a616"></a>第十五章</h2>
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+<p class="p28"><span class="t25">欧内斯特惹上麻烦</span></p>
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+<p class="p38"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img26.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img26.jpg"/></span></p>
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+<p class="p29"><span class="t29">当</span><span class="t28">奥尔斯顿先生</span><span class="t27">和欧内斯特抵达酒店时，距离</span><span class="t31">套餐</span><span class="t27">供应还有一刻钟。欧内斯特洗完手换上黑色外套后，便下楼来到咖啡厅。厅内仅有一位身材高挑的金发法国女子，约莫三十岁光景。她正倚着空荡荡的壁炉架而立，手臂搭在大理石台面上，手里捏着蕾丝手帕；欧内斯特第一眼就觉得她容貌出众却过分装扮。壁炉架上放着他想取阅的报纸。正当他上前时，那位女士的手帕飘落在地。他弯腰从炉栅里拾起手帕递还给她。</span></p>
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+<p class="p34">“万分感谢，先生，”她行了个小小的屈膝礼说道。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“不必客气，夫人？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“啊，先生会说法语？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“当然会，夫人。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">随后他们漫无边际地聊了起来。交谈中，欧内斯特得知这位夫人认为圣彼得港沉闷至极；她与友人在此盘桓三日，已<span class="t31">忧郁得快要死去</span>；不过今晚她打算去"大厅"参加公共舞会。"先生自然也会出席吧？"诸如此类的话说了不少，这位夫人显然极擅辞令。</p>
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+<p class="p34">正说话间房门突然打开，另一位与夫人气质相仿的女士走了进来，身后跟着两名青年。头一位长着典型的英国式平庸面孔，倒还算和善；但当欧内斯特看见第二位时，他猛地一怔——那张脸活脱脱像是他自己纵酒赌博、昼夜颠倒地过上五六年后的模样。这张脸的主人分明是个绅士，却满脸乖戾之气，身形瘦弱病态，至少欧内斯特是这么觉得的。</p>
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+<p class="p34">"该用晚餐了，卡米耶。"那位绅士对夫人说，同时朝欧内斯特投来恶狠狠的瞪视。</p>
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+<p class="p34">夫人装作没听懂，又对欧内斯特说了几句闲话。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“该吃晚饭了，卡米尔。”那位先生再次开口，声音粗鲁。这次她抬起头看向他。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“晚——饭，晚饭！什么是晚——饭？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“套餐。”那位先生说。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“哦，失礼了。”她向欧内斯特微微欠身，露出迷人的微笑，随后挽起那位先生伸来的手臂翩然离去。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“你为何装作听不懂我的话？”欧内斯特听见他质问道，随后看见她耸耸肩作为回应。那位绅士携着女伴紧随其后，欧内斯特也跟了上去。当他走进<span class="t31">餐厅</span>时，发现长桌上唯一的空位恰好紧邻他在<span class="t31">沙龙</span>结识的那位女士。事实上，若他稍加思索便会意识到——这显然是夫人刻意安排的。因为见他走来，她立即拢起几乎遮住椅子的丝绸裙褶，对他微微颔首致意。</p>
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+<p class="p34">欧内斯特刚入座，夫人便与他热络攀谈起来。这番举动显然惹恼了她右侧的绅士，那人频频发出"啧"声，烦躁地推开餐盘，动静很快引人侧目。但夫人依旧从容谈笑，对他的失态毫不在意，直到对方附耳低语了一句——霎时红晕染透她白皙的面颊。</p>
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+<p class="p34">"快住口吧"，欧内斯特听见她这样回应。紧接着——我们主人公的后续经历要求我们必须如实记载——轮到他面红耳赤了，因为天啊！那触感确凿无疑，他分明感受到夫人的纤足正轻压在他的脚背上。他慌忙举杯啜饮以掩饰窘态；至于他是否最终鼓起勇气将双脚缩回椅腿那冰冷却安全的庇护之下，史料未有明载，唯愿如此。但无论如何，这新奇境遇显然影响了他的食欲，整顿晚餐都食不知味。此时，坐在对面的阿尔斯通先生隔着餐桌发问：</p>
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+<p class="p34">“克肖先生，今晚的舞会您参加吗？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">令欧内斯特惊讶的是，夫人另一侧的绅士满脸诧异地答道：</p>
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+<p class="p34">"是的，我要去。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">"抱歉，"阿尔斯通先生说，"我是在和您左边那位先生说话。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">"噢，这样啊！我还以为您说的是克肖。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">“是的，我记得；那位先生的名字好像是克肖。” </p>
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+<p class="p34">“没错，”欧内斯特插话道，“我姓克肖。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“真巧，”另一位绅士说，“我也姓克肖。我还不知道有其他姓克肖的人呢。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“我也是，”欧内斯特答道，“除了休·克肖爵士。”念出这个名字时，他的脸色阴沉下来。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“我是休·克肖爵士的儿子，我叫休·克肖。”对方答道。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“是吗！那我们该是表兄弟了；我是他侄子，他弟弟欧内斯特的儿子。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">年长的休·克肖听到这个消息时，反应甚至比预期的还要冷淡；他只是抬了抬稀疏的眉毛，说了句：“哦，我记得叔叔是有个儿子。”随后转头对邻座的绅士说了句话，引得对方发笑。</p>
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+<p class="p34">欧内斯特感到血液涌上脸颊——这位表兄的语气里透着十足的轻蔑。</p>
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+<p class="p34">不久后，晚餐结束，那位夫人再度展露摄人心魄的笑容，翩然离席。欧内斯特则与阿尔斯通先生共抽了一管烟，约莫九点钟光景，两人信步前往那座以玻璃结构为主的会堂——每逢旺季，圣彼得港的游客们每周三次在此欢聚，跳舞、调情、尽情作乐。</p>
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+<p class="p34">刚踏入大厅，欧内斯特的目光就被一位身着晚礼服的佳人攫住。她裸露的雪白肩膀格外醒目，正是方才那位夫人。她坐在门边，似在守候什么。欧内斯特向她颔首致意，正欲离开时，夫人故技重施——手中的花束应声落地。他俯身拾起奉还，刚要转身，乐队突然奏响乐曲，夫人适时开口：</p>
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+<p class="p34">"啊，这音乐多美！先生会跳华尔兹吧？"</p>
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+<p class="p34">转瞬间，两人已相拥滑入舞池。旋转间，欧内斯特瞥见表弟站在角落，正用阴郁的目光盯着自己。夫人敏锐地捕捉到了他的视线。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“啊，”她说道，“休先生不是在跳华尔兹，他喝醉了；看起来像是吃醋了，不是吗？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">欧内斯特与这位迷人的女士跳了三次舞，随着最后一支华尔兹的结束，舞会也落下了帷幕。这时他的表兄走了过来，他们一行人，包括阿尔斯通先生在内，沿着陡峭而此刻已空无一人的街道，一同走向旅馆门口。欧内斯特向夫人道了晚安，她伸出手来。他握住她的手，感觉到一张纸条被塞进了手心。由于不习惯这种隐秘的传递，他笨拙地让纸条掉在了地上。那是一张舞会节目单，上面用铅笔写着些什么。不幸的是，并非只有他一人看到了这一幕——显然喝醉了的表兄休也发现了，并试图去捡那张节目单，但欧内斯特动作更快。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“把它给我，”表兄嘶哑地说道。</p>
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+<p class="p34">欧内斯特没有回答，直接将纸条塞进了自己的口袋。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“节目单上写了什么？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“我不知道。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“你在节目单上写了什么，卡米尔？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“天呐，你们可真烦人！”对方这样回答。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“我坚持要你把它交出来！”对方咒骂着。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“先生是位‘<span class="t31">绅士</span>’，先生不会食言的。”夫人意有所指地瞥了一眼，转身走进旅馆。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“我没打算把它给你。”欧内斯特说。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“你必须交给我。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“这位女士是你的妻子吗？”欧内斯特问道。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“这不关你的事，把那张字条给我。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“我不会给你的，”欧内斯特的怒气迅速上升，“我不知道上面写了什么，也不想知道；但不管是什么，这位女士是把它给了我，而不是你。她不是你的妻子，你无权索要。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">他的表兄休气得脸色发青。即使在最好的时候，他也是个脾气暴躁的人；而现在，他被酒精和嫉妒冲昏了头脑，看起来活像个恶魔。</p>
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+<p class="p34">"该死的！"他嘶声道，"你这杂种狗！我猜你那些——教养都是从你那——母亲那儿学来的吧！"</p>
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+<p class="p34">话未说完，欧内斯特已将他击倒在阴沟里。年轻人静静站在倒地者身旁，面色苍白地说，若再敢对他母亲出言不逊，定要叫他（休）半死不活。说罢才允许对方起身。</p>
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+<p class="p34">休·克肖爬起来，转头向席间邻座——那位三十岁左右、带着军人气质的友人低语几句。友人捻着浓密的髭须沉思片刻，随即以最考究的礼节对欧内斯特说道：</p>
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+<p class="p34">"我是——轻骑兵团的贾斯蒂斯上尉。克肖先生，想必您清楚，享受将人击倒的乐趣后总得给个说法。您可有同伴在此？"</p>
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+<p class="p34">欧内斯特摇着头回答："这位，"他指了指一直在旁静观事态发展的阿尔斯通先生，"是镇上我唯一认识的绅士，我不能让他卷入我的纠纷。"欧内斯特开始意识到这场争执非常棘手。</p>
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+<p class="p34">"没关系，小伙子，"阿尔斯通先生平静地说，"我会支持你。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">"可是，我真的没有权利——"欧内斯特开口道。</p>
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+<p class="p34">"别傻了！相互扶持是我们的殖民地传统。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">“法官先生—— ——”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“是贾斯蒂斯船长。”那位绅士鞠躬插话道。</p>
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+<p class="p34">“贾斯蒂斯船长，我叫阿尔斯通。愿为您效劳。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">贾斯蒂斯船长转向休·克肖——他的衣服还在滴着阴沟水——低声交谈片刻后突然提高音量：“克肖，我要是你，现在就去换掉这身衣服，会感冒的。”接着对阿尔斯通先生说：“吸烟室现在应该空着，我们过去聊聊？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">阿尔斯顿先生点头同意，两人便一同走了进去。欧内斯特跟在后面；但他点起烟斗，在房间远处的角落坐下。不一会儿，阿尔斯顿先生叫了他。</p>
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+<p class="p34">"听着，克肖，这是件严肃的事情，既然你与此事关系最大，我想最好由你自己来回答。简而言之，你的堂兄休·克肖先生要求你为打他一事书面道歉。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">"如果他愿意为他提及我母亲时所用的言辞道歉，那我也愿意道歉。"</p class="p34"></p>
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+<p class="p34">"啊！"这位英勇的上尉说道，"这位年轻的先生开始讲道理了。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">"他还要求你交出那位女士给你的便条。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">"这我绝不会照办，"他回答道，同时从口袋里掏出卡片，看都没看就撕成了碎片。</p>
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+<p class="p34">贾斯蒂斯上尉鞠躬离开了房间。几分钟后他回来，对阿尔斯通先生和欧内斯特说：</p>
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+<p class="p34">"克肖先生对你们提出的解决方案不满意。他拒绝为任何涉及你们母亲的言论道歉，现在要你们选择——要么签署由我口述的道歉声明，要么明早与他决斗。请记住我们是在根西岛，在这里用四十先令可解决不了侮辱他人的事。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">当然，这种看法完全错误。尽管根西岛拥有独立的政治体制，许多法律基于古老的诺曼-法国习俗，司法程序也用法语进行等等，但在此地决斗与在英格兰同样构成犯罪——正如贾斯蒂斯船长后来付出代价才明白的那样。可惜他们当时无人知晓这点。</p>
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+<p class="p34">欧内斯特感到血液涌向心脏。此刻他终于明白贾斯蒂斯船长的暗示。他简短回应：</p>
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+<p class="p34">"无论您和阿尔斯通先生商定何种地点与方式，我都将欣然赴约与表兄相见。"说罢回到座位，沉浸于烟斗带来的慰藉与全然陌生的情绪波动中。</p>
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+<p class="p34">贾斯蒂斯船长怜悯地目送他离去。"我为他感到遗憾，"他对阿尔斯通先生说，"克肖的枪法据我所知相当精准。你们应该会选择手枪吧？仓促间很难弄到佩剑。多好的年轻人啊——老天作证，他竟如此冷静！不过我想，他在这世上也逗留不久了。"</p>
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+<p class="p34">“这真是件荒唐事，恐怕会把我们都拖进烂泥潭。难道没有回旋余地了吗？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“据我所知没有，除非你那位年轻朋友肯低头认输。克肖是个暴脾气的家伙，为了那个女人都快疯了——在她身上花了成千上万。更何况他绝不会原谅被人当街羞辱。你最好劝你的人服软，否则克肖会杀了他。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“说这些没用。我过惯了刀口舔血的日子，最清楚男人的血性。他不是那种会服软的人。再说了，理亏的是你的人，不是那小子。要是有人敢那样说我母亲，<span class="t31">我</span>也会毙了他。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“很好，奥尔斯顿先生。现在说说手枪的事——我手头没有。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“我昨天买了一对史密斯威森左轮手枪，准备带去非洲。它们发射的子弹威力很大，贾斯蒂斯上尉。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“威力太大了。如果其中一颗子弹击中身体任何部位——”他没有把话说完。</p>
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+<p class="p34">奥尔斯顿先生点点头。“我们必须让他们相隔二十步远，给他们一个打偏的机会。那么地点和时间呢？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“我知道海滩上有个地方，离这里大约一英里半，非常合适。你沿着那条街走到海滩，然后向右转，沿着海边走，直到看到一座废弃的小屋。我们就在那里碰面。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“几点钟？”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“让我想想——就定在四点四十五分吧，那时候天应该够亮了。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“很好。韦茅斯的船六点半开，我得去收拾行李准备赶船。贾斯蒂斯船长，我建议你也这么做。完事后我们最好别回这儿了。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">“确实。”</p>
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+<p class="p34">随后他们便分道扬镳。</p>
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+<p class="p34">所幸旅馆经理尚未就寝，各方人员得以结清账目，并安排行李随早班船托运，整个过程没有引起丝毫怀疑。欧内斯特留下一封措辞隐晦的便条嘱托次日转交友人，声称有要务亟待处理。想到自己所谓的"要务"或许需要永恒的时间才能了结，他不禁泛起一丝苦涩的笑意。</p>
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+<p class="p34">回到房间后，他提笔写下两封信——一封给伊娃，一封给多萝西，嘱托奥尔斯顿先生在自己遭遇不测时代为寄出。致伊娃的信炽烈如火，字里行间满是对彼岸重逢的希冀——啊，凡人的心总是如此执拗地紧握这渺茫的念想！而给多萝西的信则冷静理智得多。遵照奥尔斯顿的建议，他沐浴更衣，换上素净的深色套装，跪诵母亲教授的祷词，而后静坐敞开的窗前。夜色沉寂，海风裹挟着咸涩的芬芳扑面而来，脚下古雅的小镇万籁俱寂。欧内斯特凝视着这片宁谧，思索自己能否得见明夜星辰，若不能，那通往的幽冥国度又将何等模样？想到此处，遮蔽未知世界的灰色雾霭侵入他的灵魂，激起阵阵寒意——非惧死亡本身，而是畏惧死后无边的寂寥，那人类无法存活的永恒虚空。母亲会在彼处相迎吗？抑或因他双手染血而拒之门外？思绪辗转至伊娃，孤独中他深邃的眼眸泛起泪光，想到要独赴黄泉，竟觉如此不甘。</p>
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