classic mystery and detective stories-第57节
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The general verdict received my assent。 I had never met those
delightful people; but was always expecting to meet them。 Hitherto
they had been conspicuous by their absence。 According to my
experience in Spain; France; and Germany; such dinners had been
dreary or noisy and vapid。 If the guests were English; they were
chillingly silent; or surlily monosyllabic: to their neighbors they
were frigid; amongst each other they spoke in low undertones。 And
if the guests were foreigners; they were noisy; clattering; and
chattering; foolish for the most part; and vivaciously commonplace。
I don't know which made me feel most dreary。 The predominance of
my countrymen gave the dinner the gayety of a funeral; the
predominance of the Mossoo gave it the fatigue of got…up
enthusiasm; of trivial expansiveness。 To hear strangers imparting
the scraps of erudition and connoisseurship which they had that
morning gathered from their valets de place and guide…books; or
describing the sights they had just seen; to you; who either saw
them yesterday; or would see them to…morrow; could not be
permanently attractive。 My mind refuses to pasture on such food
with gusto。 I cannot be made to care what the Herr Baron's
sentiments about Albert Durer or Lucas Cranach may be。 I can
digest my rindfleisch without the aid of the commis voyageur's
criticisms on Gothic architecture。 This may be my misfortune。 In
spite of the Italian blood which I inherit; I am a shy manshy as
the purest Briton。 But; like other shy men; I make up in obstinacy
what may be deficient in expansiveness。 I can be frightened into
silence; but I won't be dictated to。 You might as well attempt the
persuasive effect of your eloquence upon a snail who has withdrawn
into his shell at your approach; and will not emerge till his
confidence is restored。 To be told that I MUST see this; and ought
to go there; because my casual neighbor was charme; has never
presented itself to me as an adequate motive。
From this you readily gather that I am severely taciturn at a table
d'hote。 I refrain from joining in the 〃delightful conversation〃
which flies across the table; and know that my reticence is
attributed to 〃insular pride。〃 It is really and truly nothing but
impatience of commonplace。 I thoroughly enjoy good talk; but; ask
yourself; what are the probabilities of hearing that rare thing in
the casual assemblage of forty or fifty people; not brought
together by any natural affinities or interests; but thrown
together by the accident of being in the same district; and in the
same hotel? They are not 〃forty feeding like one;〃 but like forty。
They have no community; except the community of commonplace。 No;
tables d'hote are not delightful; and do not gather interesting
people together。
Such has been my extensive experience。 But this at Nuremberg is a
conspicuous exception。 At that table there was one guest who; on
various grounds; personal and incidental; remains the most
memorable man I ever met。 From the first he riveted my attention
in an unusual degree。 He had not; as yet; induced me to emerge
from my habitual reserve; for in truth; although he riveted my
attention; he inspired me with a strange feeling of repulsion。 I
could scarcely keep my eyes from him; yet; except the formal bow on
sitting down and rising from the table; I had interchanged no sign
of fellowship with him。 He was a young Russian; named Bourgonef;
as I at once learned; rather handsome; and peculiarly arresting to
the eye; partly from an air of settled melancholy; especially in
his smile; the amiability of which seemed breaking from under
clouds of grief; and still more so from the mute appeal to sympathy
in the empty sleeve of his right arm; which was looped to the
breast…button of his coat。 His eyes were large and soft。 He had
no beard or whisker; and only delicate moustaches。 The sorrow;
quiet but profound; the amiable smile and the lost arm; were
appealing details which at once arrested attention and excited
sympathy。 But to me this sympathy was mingled with a vague
repulsion; occasioned by a certain falseness in the amiable smile;
and a furtiveness in the eyes; which I sawor fanciedand which;
with an inexplicable reserve; forming as it were the impregnable
citadel in the center of his outwardly polite and engaging manner;
gave me something of that vague impression which we express by the
words 〃instinctive antipathy。〃
It was; when calmly considered; eminently absurd。 To see one so
young; and by his conversation so highly cultured and intelligent;
condemned to early helplessness; his food cut up for him by a
servant; as if he were a child; naturally engaged pity; and; on the
first day; I cudgeled my brains during the greater part of dinner
in the effort to account for his lost arm。 He was obviously not a
military man; the unmistakable look and stoop of a student told
that plainly enough。 Nor was the loss one dating from early life:
he used his left arm too awkwardly for the event not to have had a
recent date。 Had it anything to do with his melancholy? Here was
a topic for my vagabond imagination; and endless were the romances
woven by it during my silent dinner。 For the reader must be told
of one peculiarity in me; because to it much of the strange
complications of my story are due; complications into which a mind
less active in weaving imaginary hypotheses to interpret casual and
trifling facts would never have been drawn。 From my childhood I
have been the victim of my constructive imagination; which has led
me into many mistakes and some scrapes; because; instead of
contenting myself with plain; obvious evidence; I have allowed
myself to frame hypothetical interpretations; which; to acts simple
in themselves; and explicable on ordinary motives; render the
simple…seeming acts portentous。 With bitter pangs of self…reproach
I have at times discovered that a long and plausible history
constructed by me; relating to personal friends; has crumpled into
a ruin of absurdity; by the disclosure of the primary misconception
on which the whole history was based。 I have gone; let us say; on
the supposition that two people were secretly lovers; on this
supposition my imagination has constructed a whole scheme to
explain certain acts; and one fine day I have discovered
indubitably that the supposed lovers were not lovers; but
confidants of their passions in other directions; and; of course;
all my conjectures have been utterly false。 The secret flush of
shame at failure has not; however; prevented my falling into
similar mistakes immediately after。
When; therefore; I hereafter speak of my 〃constructive
imagination;〃 the reader will know to what I am alluding。 It was
already busy with Bourgonef。 To it must be added that vague
repulsion; previously mentioned。 This feeling abated on the second
day; but; although lessened; it remained powerful enough to prevent
my speaking to him。 Whether it would have continued to abate until
it disappeared; as such antipathies often disappear; under the
familiarities of prolonged intercourse; without any immediate
appeal to my amour propre; I know not; but every reflective mind;
conscious of being accessible to antipathies; will remember that
one certain method of stifling them is for the object to make some
appeal to our interest or our vanity: in the engagement of these
more powerful feelings; the antipathy is quickly strangled。 At any
rate it is so in my case; and was so now。
On the third day; the conversation at table happening to turn; as
it often turned; upon St。 Sebald's Church; a young Frenchman; who
was criticising its architecture with fluent dogmatism; drew
Bourgonef into the discussion; and thereby elicited such a display
of accurate and extensive knowledge; no less than delicacy of
appreciation; that we were all listening spellbound。 In the midst
of this triumphant exposition the irritated vanity of the Frenchman
could do nothing to regain his position but oppose a flat denial to
a historical statement made by Bourgonef; backing his denial by the
confident assertion that 〃all the competent authorities〃 held with
him。 At this point Bourgonef appealed to me; and in that tone of
deference so exquisitely flattering from one we already know to be
superior he requested my decision; observing that; from the manner
in which he had seen me examine the details of the architecture; he
could not be mistaken in his confidence that I was a connoisseur。
All eyes were turned upon me。 As a shy man; this made me blush; as
a vain man; the blush was accompanied with delight。 It might
easily have happened that such an appeal; acting at once upon
shyness and ignorance; would have inflamed my wrath; but the appeal
happening to be directed on a point which I had recently
investigated and thoroughly mastered; I was flattered at the
opportunity of a victorious