According to Their Lights

Somewhere in the depths of the big city, where the unquiet dregs are forever being shaken together, young Murray and the Captain had met and become friends. Both were at the lowest ebb possible to their fortunes; both had fallen from at least an intermediate Heaven of respectability and importance, and both were typical products of the monstrous and peculiar social curriculum of their overweening and bumptious civic alma mater.

在这座大城市的某个角落，那些永不安宁的底层人物总是被搅和在一起，年轻的默里和上尉便是在这里相识，成了朋友。两人的境遇都已跌到了谷底；两人都曾从体面与地位的半空天堂中跌落下来，也都是这座傲慢自负、目空一切的城市母校那套怪异而离谱的社会课程所培育出的典型产物。

The captain was no longer a captain. One of those sudden moral cataclysms that sometimes sweep the city had hurled him from a high and profitable position in the Police Department, ripping off his badge and buttons and washing into the hands of his lawyers the solid pieces of real estate that his frugality had enabled him to accumulate. The passing of the flood left him low and dry. One month after his dishabilitation a saloon-keeper plucked him by the neck from his free-lunch counter as a tabby plucks a strange kitten from her nest, and cast him asphaltward. This seems low enough.

上尉早已不再是什么上尉了。这座城市里时不时会掀起一场道德上的突发巨变，把他从警察局里一个又高又有油水的职位上一把掀翻，扯下他的徽章和纽扣，还把他靠省吃俭用积攒下来的那几处扎实的房产，冲进了他律师们的腰包。洪流退去之后，只剩下他一人，落魄潦倒。他丢了差事一个月后，一个酒馆老板一把揪住他的脖子，把他从免费小吃柜台边拎走，就像一只母猫叼起一只闯进自己窝里的陌生小猫崽一样，把他扔到了柏油马路上。这境况看着已经够惨的了。

But after that he acquired a pair of cloth top, button Congress gaiters and wrote complaining letters to the newspapers. And then he fought the attendant at the Municipal Lodging House who tried to give him a bath. When Murray first saw him he was holding the hand of an Italian woman who sold apples and garlic on Essex street, and quoting the words of a song book ballad.

可在那之后，他弄到了一双布面扣带的康格雷斯式短靴，又写信给报社大发牢骚。接着，他又跟市立收容所里那个想给他洗澡的看守打了一架。默里第一次见到他的时候，他正拉着一个在埃塞克斯街卖苹果和大蒜的意大利女人的手，背诵着一本歌本上某首民谣的歌词。

Murray’s fall had been more Luciferian, if less spectacular. All the pretty, tiny little kickshaws of Gotham had once been his. The megaphone man roars out at you to observe the house of his uncle on a grand and revered avenue. But there had been an awful row about something, and the prince had been escorted to the door by the butler, which, in said avenue, is equivalent to the impact of the avuncular shoe. A weak Prince Hal, without inheritance or sword, he drifted downward to meet his humorless Falstaff, and to pick the crusts of the streets with him.

相比之下，默里的堕落虽不那么惊天动地，却更带几分堕落天使路西法式的意味。哥谭镇上所有精致小巧的玩意儿，一度都是他的囊中之物。那些扩音喇叭上的解说员，此刻正朝你大声喊着，让你瞧瞧他叔叔家那栋位于某条尊贵大道上、备受敬仰的宅子。可后来为了件什么事，闹出了一场轩然大波，这位“王子”便被管家送到了门口——在那条大道上，这就相当于挨了叔叔一脚。他就像个懦弱的哈尔王子，既无继承权也无宝剑，一路飘零沉沦，落到了和他那位没什么幽默感的福斯塔夫相遇的地步，与他一同在街头捡拾面包屑度日。

One evening they sat on a bench in a little downtown park. The great bulk of the Captain, which starvation seemed to increase—drawing irony instead of pity to his petitions for aid—was heaped against the arm of the bench in a shapeless mass.

一天傍晚，他们坐在市中心一座小公园的长椅上。上尉那庞大的身躯——饥饿似乎反倒把它撑得更大了，惹来的不是同情，而是冷嘲——瘫软成一团，堆在长椅的扶手上。

His red face, spotted by tufts of vermilion, week-old whiskers and topped by a sagging white straw hat, looked, in the gloom, like one of those structures that you may observe in a dark Third avenue window, challenging your imagination to say whether it be something recent in the way of ladies’ hats or a strawberry shortcake. A tight-drawn belt—last relic of his official spruceness—made a deep furrow in his circumference. The Captain’s shoes were buttonless. In a smothered bass he cursed his star of ill-luck.

他那张通红的脸上，长着一簇簇朱红色的、留了一个星期没刮的胡茬，头上耷拉着一顶泛白的草帽，在昏暗的暮色中看去，像极了你在第三大道某扇昏暗橱窗里瞧见的那种东西，让你怎么也猜不透，那究竟是最新款的女士帽子，还是一块草莓奶油蛋糕。一条勒得紧紧的皮带——他昔日体面官威留下的最后一件遗物——在他那圆滚滚的肚子上勒出一道深深的沟壑。上尉的鞋子上一颗纽扣也没有了。他用一种压抑的低音，咒骂着自己那颗倒霉星。

Murray, at his side, was shrunk into his dingy and ragged suit of blue serge. His hat was pulled low; he sat quiet and a little indistinct, like some ghost that had been dispossessed.

默里坐在他身旁，缩在那身脏兮兮、破破烂烂的蓝哔叽西装里。他把帽子压得低低的；安安静静地坐着，模糊得有几分不真切，像个刚被逐出躯壳的幽灵。

“I’m hungry,” growled the Captain—“by the top sirloin of the Bull of Bashan, I’m starving to death. Right now I could eat a Bowery restaurant clear through to the stovepipe in the alley. Can’t you think of nothing, Murray? You sit there with your shoulders scrunched up, giving an imitation of Reginald Vanderbilt driving his coach—what good are them airs doing you now? Think of some place we can get something to chew.”

“我饿了，”上尉咆哮道——“以巴珊公牛的上等腰肉发誓，我快饿死了。这会儿我能把包厘街上一整间餐馆连同巷子里的烟囱都吃下去。你就一点办法都想不出来吗，默里？你就那么坐着，耸着肩膀，装出一副雷金纳德·范德比尔特赶马车的派头——这些个臭架子，现在对你有什么用？想想咱们上哪儿能弄点东西嚼嚼吧。”

“You forget, my dear Captain,” said Murray, without moving, “that our last attempt at dining was at my suggestion.”

“你忘了吧，亲爱的上尉，”默里一动不动地说，“咱们上一回想蹭顿饭吃，还是我出的主意呢。”

“You bet it was,” groaned the Captain, “you bet your life it was. Have you got any more like that to make—hey?”

“可不是嘛，”上尉呻吟道，“可不是嘛，你说得一点没错。你还有别的这种馊主意吗——嗯？”

“I admit we failed,” sighed Murray. “I was sure Malone would be good for one more free lunch after the way he talked baseball with me the last time I spent a nickel in his establishment.”

“我承认咱们失败了，”默里叹了口气。“我原以为，上回我在马隆尼那儿花五分钱的时候，跟他聊了那么半天棒球，他怎么着也该再请咱们蹭一顿免费小吃才对。”

“I had this hand,” said the Captain, extending the unfortunate member—“I had this hand on the drumstick of a turkey and two sardine sandwiches when them waiters grabbed us.”

“我这只手，”上尉说着，伸出那只不幸的手，“我这只手当时都摸到一只火鸡腿和两块沙丁鱼三明治了，结果那些侍者就把咱俩逮住了。”

“I was within two inches of the olives,” said Murray. “Stuffed olives. I haven’t tasted one in a year.”

“我离橄榄就差两英寸远了，”默里说。“酿橄榄。我都有一年没尝过味道了。”

“What’ll we do?” grumbled the Captain. “We can’t starve.”

“咱们该怎么办？”上尉抱怨道。“咱们总不能活活饿死吧。”

“Can’t we?” said Murray quietly. “I’m glad to hear that. I was afraid we could.”

“不能吗？”默里平静地说。“我倒是很高兴听你这么说。我还担心咱们真会饿死呢。”

“You wait here,” said the Captain, rising heavily and puffily to his feet. “I’m going to try to make one more turn. You stay here till I come back, Murray. I won’t be over half an hour. If I turn the trick I’ll come back flush.”

“你在这儿等着，”上尉说着，喘着粗气，笨重地站起身来。“我再去想想办法。你就在这儿等我回来，默里。我最多半个钟头就回来。要是事成了，我回来的时候身上准就有钱了。”

He made some elephantine attempts at smartening his appearance. He gave his fiery mustache a heavenward twist; he dragged into sight a pair of black-edged cuffs, deepened the crease in his middle by tightening his belt another hole, and set off, jaunty as a zoo rhinoceros, across the south end of the park.

他笨手笨脚地尽力收拾了一下自己的仪表。把那撮火红的胡子朝天上一拧；又从袖子里拽出一副镶着黑边的袖口；再把皮带往紧里勒一格，让肚子上的褶子更深了几分，然后便像动物园里一头犀牛似的，摇摇摆摆、神气活现地朝公园南头走去。

When he was out of sight Murray also left the park, hurrying swiftly eastward. He stopped at a building whose steps were flanked by two green lights.

等他一走远，默里也离开了公园，急匆匆地朝东走去。他在一栋台阶两侧挂着绿灯的建筑前停了下来。

“A police captain named Maroney,” he said to the desk sergeant, “was dismissed from the force after being tried under charges three years ago. I believe sentence was suspended. Is this man wanted now by the police?”

“有个叫马罗尼的警察局上尉，”他对值班警长说，“三年前因为一桩指控受审后被开除了。我记得判决好像是缓刑。这个人现在还是警方要找的人吗？”

“Why are ye asking?” inquired the sergeant, with a frown.

“你问这个干什么？”警长皱着眉头问道。

“I thought there might be a reward standing,” explained Murray, easily. “I know the man well. He seems to be keeping himself pretty shady at present. I could lay my hands on him at any time. If there should be a reward—”

“我想着说不定还有悬赏没领呢，”默里从容地解释道。“我跟这人很熟。他眼下似乎躲得挺严实。我随时都能找到他。要是真有悬赏的话——”

“There’s no reward,” interrupted the sergeant, shortly. “The man’s not wanted. And neither are ye. So, get out. Ye are frindly with um, and ye would be selling um. Out with ye quick, or I’ll give ye a start.”

“没有什么悬赏，”警长干脆地打断了他。“这人根本没人找。你也一样。所以，给我出去。你分明跟他是朋友，却想着出卖他。快滚，不然我可要动手了。”

Murray gazed at the officer with serene and virtuous dignity.

默里神情安详，带着一种正气凛然的尊严望着这位警官。

“I would be simply doing my duty as a citizen and gentleman,” he said, severely, “if I could assist the law in laying hold of one of its offenders.”

“我不过是在尽一个公民和绅士应尽的本分罢了，”他一本正经地说，“要是我能协助法律，把一个犯法的人绳之以法的话。”

Murray hurried back to the bench in the park. He folded his arms and shrank within his clothes to his ghost-like presentment.

默里匆匆赶回公园里的那张长椅。他抱着胳膊，缩进自己的衣服里，那副幽灵般的模样又浮现了出来。

Ten minutes afterward the Captain arrived at the rendezvous, windy and thunderous as a dog-day in Kansas. His collar had been torn away; his straw hat had been twisted and battered; his shirt with ox-blood stripes split to the waist. And from head to knee he was drenched with some vile and ignoble greasy fluid that loudly proclaimed to the nose its component leaven of garlic and kitchen stuff.

十分钟后，上尉回到了会面地点，浑身上下又是风风火火，又是雷声隆隆，活像堪萨斯三伏天里的一条狗。他的衣领被撕掉了；草帽被扭得走了形，还砸得凹凸不平；那件带牛血色条纹的衬衫从领口一直裂到了腰间。而且从头到膝，他浑身都湿透了一种下作恶心的油腻液体，那气味老远就冲着鼻子嚷嚷着，宣告其中掺杂着大蒜和厨房残羹的成分。

“For Heaven’s sake, Captain,” sniffed Murray, “I doubt that I would have waited for you if I had suspected you were so desperate as to resort to swill barrels. I”—

“看在老天爷的份上，上尉，”默里嗅了嗅鼻子说道，“我要是早知道你会走投无路到去翻泔水桶的地步，我可未必会等你回来。我——”

“Cheese it,” said the Captain, harshly. “I’m not hogging it yet. It’s all on the outside. I went around on Essex and proposed marriage to that Catrina that’s got the fruit shop there. Now, that business could be built up. She’s a peach as far as they come. I thought I had that senoreena mashed sure last week. But look what she done to me! I guess I got too fresh. Well there’s another scheme queered.”

“少来了，”上尉粗声粗气地说。“我还没沦落到吃那玩意儿的地步呢。这全是溅在外面的。我到埃塞克斯街那边去了，向那个开水果店的卡特里娜求了婚。这本来是桩能做大的买卖。她可是数一数二的美人儿。我上星期还以为，那位小姐已经被我拿下了呢。结果你瞧她把我怎么糟践的！我想我大概是太得意忘形了。好了，这条门路又给搅黄了。”

“You don’t mean to say,” said Murray, with infinite contempt, “that you would have married that woman to help yourself out of your disgraceful troubles!”

“你该不会是说，”默里带着无尽的鄙夷说道，“你居然打算娶那个女人，好帮自己脱离这丢人现眼的困境吧！”

“Me?” said the Captain. “I’d marry the Empress of China for one bowl of chop suey. I’d commit murder for a plate of beef stew. I’d steal a wafer from a waif. I’d be a Mormon for a bowl of chowder.”

“我？”上尉说。“为了一碗杂碎，我能娶中国的皇后。为了一盘炖牛肉，我能杀人。我能从一个流浪儿手里偷块威化饼。为了一碗杂烩浓汤，我能去当摩门教徒。”

“I think,” said Murray, resting his head on his hands, “that I would play Judas for the price of one drink of whiskey. For thirty pieces of silver I would”—

“我倒觉得，”默里说着，双手托着脑袋，“为了一杯威士忌的价钱，我甘愿去当一回犹大。为了三十块银币，我会——”

“Oh, come now!” exclaimed the Captain in dismay. “You wouldn’t do that, Murray! I always thought that fellow’s squeal on his boss was about the lowest-down play that ever happened. A man that gives his friend away is worse than a pirate.”

“哦，得了吧！”上尉惊愕地喊道。“你不会做那种事的，默里！我一直觉得，那家伙出卖自己主子的行径，是天底下最下三滥的勾当了。一个出卖朋友的人，比海盗还不如。”

Through the park stepped a large man scanning the benches where the electric light fell.

一个高大的男人穿过公园，扫视着灯光照射到的一条条长椅。

“Is that you, Mac?” he said, halting before the derelicts. His diamond stickpin dazzled. His diamond-studded fob chain assisted. He was big and smooth and well fed. “Yes, I see it’s you,” he continued. “They told me at Mike’s that I might find you over here. Let me see you a few minutes, Mac.”

“是你吗，麦克？”他说着，在这两个落魄潦倒的人面前站住了脚。他领带上的钻石饰针光彩夺目。他那条镶满钻石的表链也不逊色几分。他人高马大，油光水滑，养得脑满肠肥。“对，我看清楚了，是你，”他接着说。“麦克那儿的人告诉我，我兴许能在这儿找到你。让我跟你谈几分钟，麦克。”

The Captain lifted himself with a grunt of alacrity. If Charlie Finnegan had come down in the bottomless pit to seek him there must be something doing. Charlie guided him by an arm into a patch of shadow.

上尉哼哧一声，敏捷地站了起来。要是查理·芬尼根愿意屈尊亲自下到这无底深渊里来找他，那想必有事要办了。查理挽着他的胳膊，把他领进一片阴影里。

“You know, Mac,” he said, “they’re trying Inspector Pickering on graft charges.”

“你知道吧，麦克，”他说，“他们正在以贪腐罪审讯皮克林督察。”

“He was my inspector,” said the Captain.

“他以前是我的督察，”上尉说。

“O’Shea wants the job,” went on Finnegan. “He must have it. It’s for the good of the organization. Pickering must go under. Your testimony will do it. He was your ‘man higher up’ when you were on the force. His share of the boodle passed through your hands. You must go on the stand and testify against him.”

“奥谢想要那个位子，”芬尼根接着说。“他非得到手不可。这是为了组织的利益。皮克林必须垮台。你的证词就能定他的罪。你在队里的时候，他是你的‘上头人’。他那份赃款，是经你手过手的。你必须出庭作证，指证他。”

“He was”—began the Captain.

“他曾是……”上尉刚开口。

“Wait a minute,” said Finnegan. A bundle of yellowish stuff came out of his inside pocket. “Five hundred dollars in it for you. Two-fifty on the spot, and the rest”—

“等一下，”芬尼根说。一沓泛黄的钞票从他的内袋里掏了出来。“这里头有你五百块。当场先给两百五，剩下的——”

“He was my friend, I say,” finished the Captain. “I’ll see you and the gang, and the city, and the party in the flames of Hades before I’ll take the stand against Dan Pickering. I’m down and out; but I’m no traitor to a man that’s been my friend.” The Captain’s voice rose and boomed like a split trombone. “Get out of this park, Charlie Finnegan, where us thieves and tramps and boozers are your betters; and take your dirty money with you.”

“他是我的朋友，我说过，”上尉把话说完了。“我宁可看着你和你那帮人，还有这座城市，还有那个党，统统下地狱，也不会出庭指证丹·皮克林。我落魄了，穷困潦倒；可我不会出卖一个待我如朋友的人。”上尉的嗓门陡然拔高，轰隆隆地像一支破裂的长号。“滚出这个公园，查理·芬尼根，在这儿，我们这些小偷、流浪汉和酒鬼都比你强；把你那些脏钱也一并带走。”

Finnegan drifted out by another walk. The Captain returned to his seat.

芬尼根从另一条小径悄悄溜走了。上尉回到了自己的座位上。

“I couldn’t avoid hearing,” said Murray, drearily. “I think you are the biggest fool I ever saw.”

“我实在没法不听见，”默里没精打采地说道。“我看你是我见过的最大的傻瓜了。”

“What would you have done?” asked the Captain.

“换了是你，你会怎么做？”上尉问道。

“Nailed Pickering to the cross,” said Murray.

“把皮克林钉上十字架，”默里说。

“Sonny,” said the Captain, huskily and without heat. “You and me are different. New York is divided into two parts—above Forty-second street, and below Fourteenth. You come from the other part. We both act according to our lights.”

“小子，”上尉哑着嗓子说道，语气里没有一丝火气。“你和我不一样。纽约分成两半——第四十二街以北，第十四街以南。你是从另一半来的人。咱们俩，都不过是各按各的良心行事罢了。”

An illuminated clock above the trees retailed the information that it lacked the half hour of twelve. Both men rose from the bench and moved away together as if seized by the same idea. They left the park, struck through a narrow cross street, and came into Broadway, at this hour as dark, echoing and de-peopled as a byway in Pompeii.

树梢上方一座亮着灯的钟，报出了差半小时就到十二点的时辰。两人都从长椅上站了起来，仿佛被同一个念头攫住了一般，一同朝前走去。他们离开公园，穿过一条狭窄的横街，走上百老汇大道，此刻这条街道，昏暗、回响、空无一人，就像庞贝城里的一条小巷。

Northward they turned; and a policeman who glanced at their unkempt and slinking figures withheld the attention and suspicion that he would have granted them at any other hour and place. For on every street in that part of the city other unkempt and slinking figures were shuffling and hurrying toward a converging point—a point that is marked by no monument save that groove on the pavement worn by tens of thousands of waiting feet.

他们朝北走去；一名警察瞥了他们那副蓬头垢面、鬼鬼祟祟的模样一眼，却没有像换了别的时间地点那样，投来多少注意或猜疑的目光。因为在这一带的每一条街上，都有别的蓬头垢面、鬼鬼祟祟的身影，正拖着脚步、匆匆忙忙地朝一个汇聚点走去——那个地方没有任何纪念碑标记，唯有人行道上被成千上万双等候的脚踩磨出的那道凹槽为证。

At Ninth street a tall man wearing an opera hat alighted from a Broadway car and turned his face westward. But he saw Murray, pounced upon him and dragged him under a street light. The Captain lumbered slowly to the corner, like a wounded bear, and waited, growling.

在第九街，一个头戴大礼帽的高个子男人从一辆百老汇街车上下了车，转身朝西走去。可他一眼瞧见了默里，猛地扑上前去，把他拽到一盏街灯底下。上尉像一头受了伤的熊，慢吞吞地挪到街角，站在那儿，咕哝着等候。

“Jerry!” cried the hatted one. “How fortunate! I was to begin a search for you to-morrow. The old gentleman has capitulated. You’re to be restored to favor. Congratulate you. Come to the office in the morning and get all the money you want. I’ve liberal instructions in that respect.”

“杰里！”那戴礼帽的人喊道。“真是太巧了！我本打算明天就开始四处找你呢。老先生已经让步了。你可以重新得到他的宠信了。恭喜你啊。明天早上到办公室来，要多少钱都行。在这件事上，我得到的吩咐可是相当宽裕的。”

“And the little matrimonial arrangement?” said Murray, with his head turned sidewise.

“那婚事上的小安排呢？”默里侧着头问道。

“Why—er—well, of course, your uncle understands—expects that the engagement between you and Miss Vanderhurst shall be”—

“这个嘛——呃——这个，你叔叔当然是明白的——他盼着你和范德赫斯特小姐之间的婚约能够——”

“Good night,” said Murray, moving away.

“晚安，”默里说着，转身要走。

“You madman!” cried the other, catching his arm. “Would you give up two millions on account of”—

“你这个疯子！”对方喊道，一把抓住他的胳膊。“你就为了……愿意放弃那两百万？”

“Did you ever see her nose, old man?” asked Murray, solemnly.

“老兄，你可曾见过她的鼻子？”默里一本正经地问道。

“But, listen to reason, Jerry. Miss Vanderhurst is an heiress, and”—

“可是，讲点道理吧，杰里。范德赫斯特小姐可是位女继承人，而且——”

“Did you ever see it?”

“你见过吗？”

“Yes, I admit that her nose isn’t”—

“见过，我承认她那鼻子确实不大……”

“Good night!” said Murray. “My friend is waiting for me. I am quoting him when I authorize you to report that there is ‘nothing doing.’ Good night.”

“晚安！”默里说。“我朋友还在等我呢。我这就借他的话，授权你去回报说，这事‘没戏’。晚安。”

A wriggling line of waiting men extended from a door in Tenth street far up Broadway, on the outer edge of the pavement. The Captain and Murray fell in at the tail of the quivering millipede.

一列蜿蜒曲折的候位队伍，从第十街的一扇门口一直延伸到百老汇大道人行道的外侧远处。上尉和默里在这条颤动着的蜈蚣队伍的末尾排了进去。

“Twenty feet longer than it was last night,” said Murray, looking up at his measuring angle of Grace Church.

“比昨晚长了二十英尺呢，”默里说着，抬头望着他用来估量距离的那座恩典教堂。

“Half an hour,” growled the Captain, “before we get our punk.”

“还得等半个钟头，”上尉咆哮道，“咱们才能领到那点面包渣。”

The city clocks began to strike 12; the Bread Line moved forward slowly, its leathern feet sliding on the stones with the sound of a hissing serpent, as they who had lived according to their lights closed up in the rear.

城里的钟声敲响了十二点；这条“面包队”缓缓向前挪动，那一双双磨得发亮的皮鞋在石板路上蹭出嘶嘶的声响，宛如一条条低吟的毒蛇，而那些各按自己的良心活着的人们，也在队伍后头挤了上去。