stories by english authors in africa(旅非英国作家的故事)-第27节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
was a terrible ordeal； that half…hour when the family should have sat down
to a table laden with food。 The poor wife cried； and he had to comfort her
tears with promises； unsubstantial nutriment indeed； and they could not
satisfy the child； who failed dismally to understand them。 Through the
green blinds came the noise of life and health and merriment； curses too；
sometimes； but only the curses of the well fed； and therefore meaningless。
Already the sun fell hot and indomitable on the room； and the atmosphere
at their touch became stifling。 Gregorio； swallowing his tears； tore out into
the street； shouting up the narrow stairway hysterical words of hope。
How long and shadowless the street seemed！ Every house had its
green blinds closely shut； the wind that stirred the dust of the pavements
was hot and biting。 Gregorio clinched his hands and strode rapidly onward。
What mattered it to him that behind those green blinds women and men
slumbered in comparative comfort？ He had a work to do； and by sunset
must carry good tidings to his little world。 For a time his heart was brave
as the dry wind scorched the tear upon his cheek。 〃Surely；〃 he thought；
weaving his thoughts into a fine marching rhythm； 〃the great God will
help me now； will help me now。〃
At midday； after he had tried； with that strange Greek pertinacity that
understands no refusals； all the hotels and tourist agencies he had called at
the day before； he became weary and disconsolate。 The march had become
a dirge； no longer it suggested happiness to be； but failure。 An Englishman
threw him a piastre； and he turned into a cafe。 Calling for a glass of wine；
he flung himself down on the wooden bench and tried to think。 But really
logical thinking was impossible。 For in spite of the sorrow at his heart； the
92
… Page 93…
STORIES
same bright dreams of wealth and happiness came back to mock him。 The
piastre he played with became gold； and he felt the cafe contained no
luxuries that he might not command to be brought before him。 But as the
effects of the red wine of Lebanon evaporated he began to take a soberer
though still cheerful view of his position。 It was only when the waiter
carried off his piastre that he suddenly woke to fact and knew himself
once more a man with a wife and child starving in Alexandria； an alien
city for all its wealthy colony of Greeks。 A wave of pity swept over him；
not so much for the woman was he sorry； though he loved her too； but for
the baby whose future he had planned。 He scowled savagely at the inmates
of the cafe； who only smiled quietly； for they were used to poor Greeks
who had drunk away their last coin； and pushed past them into the street。
There it was hotter than ever； and he met scarcely any one。 Every one
who could be was at home； or in the cool cafes； only Gregorio was abroad。
He determined to make for the quay。 He knew that many ships put into the
Alexandrian waters； and there was often employment found for those not
too proud to work at lading and unloading。 Quickly； and burning as the
kempsin； he hurried through the Rue des Soeurs； not daring to look up at
the house wherein he dwelt。 The muffled sounds of voices and guitars
from the far…away interiors seemed to mock his footsteps as he passed the
wine…shops； and all the other houses were silent and asleep。 At last he
arrived on the quay； and the black lines of the P。 and O。 stood out firmly
before him against the pitiless blue of sea and sky。 He wandered over the
hot stone causeway； but found no one。 The revenue officers were away；
and not a labourer； not a sailor； was visible。 Beyond the breakwater little
tufts of silvery foam flashed on the rollers； and a solitary steamer steered
steadily for the horizon。 He could see the Greek flag at her stern； and his
eyes filled with tears。 Ah； how little his friends in Athens thought of the
man who had come to find fame and fortune in the far…off East！ He sat
down on the parapet and watched the vessel until she became a tiny speck
on the horizon； and then he recommenced his search for work。 His heart
was braver for a moment because of its pangs； he swore he would show
these countrymen of his who dwelt at home； and who in three days would
see the very ship he had been gazing at arrive in Grecian waters； that he
93
… Page 94…
STORIES
was worthy of his country and his kinsfolk。
But resolutions were useless； tenacity of purpose was useless。 For two
long hours he wandered by the harbour； but met no one。
At last the sun fell behind the western waves； and the windows of the
khedive's palace glowed like a hundred flaming eyes； the flags fell from
the masts of the vessels； on the city side was a sudden silence； save for the
melancholy voices of the muezzins； then the day died； the bright stars；
suddenly piercing the heavens； mocked him with their brilliance and told
him that his useless search for bread was over。
Gregorio went back slowly to his home。 Already the Rue des Soeurs
was crowded。 The long street rang with music and laughter； and instead of
blinds covering the windows merry women leaned upon the sills and
laughed at the crowds below。
Gregorio； when he reached his house； would have liked to go straight
to bed。 But it was not to be； for as he entered the tiny room he heard his
wife trying to persuade the hungry infant into sleep； and his footsteps
disturbed her tears。 He had to calm them as best he could； and as he
soothed her he noticed the child had a crust in his hand which he gnawed
half contentedly。 At the same moment the dim blue figure of an Arab
passed by the opposite wall； and had almost gained the door ere Gregorio
found words。
〃Who are you？〃
〃It is Ahmed；〃 his wife answered； gently； placing her trembling hand
upon his shoulder； 〃he too has children。〃
Gregorio scowled and muttered； 〃An Arab；〃 and in that murmur none
of the loathing was hidden that the pseudo…West bears for the East。
〃The child is starving；〃 said Ahmed。 〃I have saved the child； maybe
some day I shall save the father。〃 And Ahmed slipped away before
Gregorio could answer him。
For a while neither he nor his wife spoke； they stood silent in the
moonlight。 At last Gregorio asked huskily； 〃Have you had food？〃
〃Not to…day；〃 was the answer； and the sweet voice was almost
discordant in its pathos as it continued； 〃nor drink； and but for Ahmed the
boy had died。〃
94
… Page 95…
STORIES
Gregorio could not answer； there was a lump in his throat that blocked
words； opening the gate for sobs。 But he choked down his emotion with an
effort and busied himself about the room。 Xantippe sat watching him
anxiously； smoothly with nervous fingers the covering of her son's bed。
As the night advanced the heat increased； and all that disturbed the
silence of the room was the echo of the streets。 Gregorio walked to the
window and looked out。 Below him he saw the jostling crowd of men and
women。 These people； he thought； were happy； and two miserables only
dwelt in the cityhis wife and himself。 And whenever he asked himself
what was the cause of his misery； the answer was ever the same poverty。
He glanced at his son； tossing uneasily in his bed； he looked at his wife；
pale and haggard in the moonlight； he remembered his own sufferings all
day long in the hot cruel streets； and he spoke unsteadily：
〃Xantippe？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃I have thought over things。〃
〃And I too。〃
〃We are starving；you are starving； and I am starving；and all day
long I tramp these cursed streets； but gain nothing。 So it will go on； day in；
day out。 Not only we ourselves； but our son too must die。 We must save
him。〃
〃Yes；〃 said Xantippe； quietly； repeating her husband's words as she
kissed the forehead of her child； 〃we must save him。〃
〃There is only one way。〃
〃Only one way；〃 repeated Xantippe； dreamily。 There was a paus
