stories by english authors in africa(旅非英国作家的故事)-第25节
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saw she was drinking champagne； and he sighed。 Ah； yes； these English
were rich； and women only cared for money； they were unable to give up
their luxuries for the sake of a man。
But at this thought Gregorio blushed a little。 After all； there was one
womanthe only woman he ought to think ofwho was not afraid of
hardship for the sake of her husband。 He tried to excuse himself by
arguing that the music had excited him； but he felt a little ashamed； and as
a sop to his not yet quite murdered conscience got up and left the cafe。
When he turned into the Place Mehemet Ali he remembered suddenly
that he had wasted his evening。 It was ten o'clock； too late to set about the
business he had intended。 He was angry with himself now as well as
ashamed。 He wandered up and down the square； looking at the statue of
the great khedive； silhouetted against the moonlight； and cursed at his
misfortunes。
Why should he； Gregorio Livadas； be in need of money？ He had
worked hard； but without success。 He could have borne his ill luck had he
alone been the sufferer； but he must consider his childand； of course； his
wife too。 He was really fond of his wife in a way。 But he smiled proudly as
he thought of his son； for whom he schemed out a great future。 He and
Xantippe would train the boy so carefully that he would grow up to be a
great man； and； what was more； a rich man。 How they would laugh； all
three； as they sat in the splendid cafes over their wine； at the hardships the
father had endured！ Still he must not forget the present； and he sorely
needed money。 He would go to Amos again。 Amos was a rich man； very
rich； and a filthy Jew。 Amos could easily spare him some money and
renew the last loan。 He was going to be successful now and would be able
to pay good interest。 What better investment could Amos have？ Surely
none。 He was going to set up a cafe with the money at Tanta； or Zagazig；
or even Benhur；yes； Benhur was the best；where there were few
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competitors。 Then he would make a fortune； as other Greeks had done；
and Amos would be paid in full。 He was not extravagant； no； he had the
business instincts of his race。 Half these rich merchants of Alexandria had
begun as he would begin； he would succeed as they had succeeded。 The
future was really hopeful； if he could only borrow a little capital。
With these thoughts surging through his brain Gregorio paced up and
down the pavements。 At last he turned into the Rue des Soeurs and started
slowly toward his home。
This street； the sink of Alexandria； was at its gayest。 The cafes where
cheap liquor is sold were crowded。 Soldiers and sailors； natives and the
riffraff of half a dozen nations； jostled one another。 The twanging of
guitars and the tinkling of pianos was heard from every house。 Women；
underclothed and overpainted； leaned from the upper windows and made
frequent sallies into the street to capture their prey。 Loud voices sang lusty
English choruses and French chansonnettes； and Neapolitan songs tried to
assert themselves whenever the uproar ceased for a moment。 Every one
talked his； or her； own tongue； and gesture filled in the gaps when words
were wanting。 All seemed determined to degrade themselves as much as
possible； and nearly every one seemed supremely happy。
Occasionally there was a fight； and knives were used with unerring
skill； but the mounted police who patrolled the streets； though overtaxed；
managed to preserve a certain amount of order。
Gregorio took very little notice of the scenes through which he passed。
He knew every inch and corner of the quarter that had been his home for
years； and was familiar with most of its inhabitants。 He sighed a little as he
thought of the money being lost and won in the stuffy ill…lighted rooms at
the back of the houses； shut out from view of the authorities。 Like most of
his race； he was fond of the excitement of gambling。 But of what use were
regrets and sighs？ he had no money； and must needs go home。 It was vain
to try and borrow or to ask credit for his losses； in these gambling hells
what is lost must be immediately paid； for tempers are inflamed by drink
and knives are worn at each player's belt。
But he sighed； none the less； at the hard necessity that compelled him
to pass down the street without once entering the doors of a tavern。 It was
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very hot； and he had smoked many cigarettes。 He would have been glad to
call for a drink。 The tavern…keepers； though they were his friends；
expected to be paid。 One or two women beckoned to him； who would have
willingly offered him wine； but he was proud enough to ignore them。
He became more moody and dejected as he went along； silent and
sober amid so much revelry。 When he reached his house he saw a drunken
man lying on the threshold asleep。 He stooped to look into his face and
recognised an Englishman； the foreman of some tramp in the harbour。 He
kicked the recumbent form testily as he strode over it。
〃These English； what beasts they are！〃 he growled； 〃and II have not a
piastre for a single glass of wine。〃
II CONCERNING A DEBT
Gregorio found； on entering his house； that his wife was already in bed。
He went into the tiny kitchen and saw a plate of macaroni ready for his
supper。 He tried to eat some； but it stuck in his throat。 He took a bottle of
cheap Cretan wine from a shelf and drank from it； but the wine was sour；
and he spat it from his mouth with a curse。
Taking up the lamp； he went into the bedroom。 His wife was fast
asleep with the boy in her arms。 For a moment a smile flickered round
Gregorio's mouth as he looked at them。 Then he took off his boots and his
coat； blew out the lamp； and lay beside them。 He was very tired after his
long tramp in the hot streets； but he could not sleep。 Angrily he tossed
from side to side and closed his eyes tightly； but it was no good； sleep
would not come。
At midnight he heard a call to prayer chanted from the minaret of a
tiny mosque in the neighbourhood。 The muezzin's voice irritated him。 He
did not wish to pray； and he did want to sleep。 He swore that it was
insanity for these fools of Mohammedans to declare that prayer was better
than sleep。
Then the thoughts that had agitated him during the walk returned to
him。 The Rue des Soeurs was still noisy with merry…makers； and it seemed
to him that if he could only join them he would be happy。 But he had no
money； and one can do nothing without money！
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Then there came back to him the face of the Englishman he had seen
talking to the violinist of the Paradiso。 He hated the man because he was
ugly and rich。 These English were all rich； and yet they seemed to him a
miserable race； mere ignorant bullies。 He remembered how often he had
come to the help of the English travellers who filled Egypt。 Why had he；
he asked himself； for the sake of a miserable reward； prevented them being
cheated； when he； with all his talents； was condemned to starve？ Even his
child； he thought； would grow to hate him if he remained poor。 He must
get money。 Amos would have to lend him some。 The Jews were unpopular
among the Greeks； it were wise to keep on good terms with them； as Amos
would find out。
At last he fell asleep。
In the morning his troubles began again。 There was no coffee； and only
a little Arab bread； and when that was done they must starve if they could
not get some money。 Gregorio tore off a bit of bread and ate it slowly；
looking at his wife； who sat weeping beside him。
〃I shall go to Amos；〃 he said； firmly。
〃Ah； yes； to Amos；〃 Xantippe answered quietly； 〃but it will be no
good。〃
〃Why no good？〃
〃Because you owe him money； and he will give you no more till he is
paid。〃
〃But we cannot pay him。 He must let us have some。 If not〃 and
Gr
