人性的枷鎖(10)

"The Kings School Canterbury" by Oosoom - Own work

人性的枷鎖OF HUMAN BONDAGE

BY W. SOMERSET MAUGHAM毛姆

1915

中譯Bill Lin

第10章 住校

凱里夫婦決定把菲利浦送進坎特伯利皇家學校King's School，鄰近的教士們都把他們的兒子往那兒送。根據多年的傳統，它已和坎特伯利大教堂成了一體：它的校長是教堂牧師會的名譽會員；一位前任校長當過副主教。學校鼓勵學生們有志於聖職，而學校的教育也是準備讓一個誠實的少年能終身侍奉神。它有一所預校，這就是要安排菲利浦該去的學校。在九月底的一個星期四下午，凱里先生帶著他去坎特伯利。一整天，菲利浦既興奮又害怕。他不懂得學校的生活，只有從《男童報The Boy's Own Paper》上的故事知道些微。他還讀過《埃里克Eric ──知一點算一點》。

他們在坎特伯利下火車時，菲利浦憂慮得很不舒服；坐車往城裡去的時候，他臉色蒼白，一聲不響地坐著。學校前面那堵高高的磚牆使它看來像座監獄。有扇小門，他們一按鈴，門就開了。一個笨拙、懶散的人出來，幫菲利浦拿鐵皮箱和日用品箱。他們被領進會客室；那裡面擺滿了笨重、難看的傢具，沿著牆擺放著全套的椅子，令人感到森嚴肅穆。他們在等候校長。

「華生Watson先生像啥模樣？」過了半晌，菲利浦問。

「你會看到的。」

又靜默了一陣子。凱里先生納悶：校長怎麼還不來？這時菲利浦鼓起勇氣，又說：「告訴他我有一隻腳掌內翻club-foot。」

在凱里先生沒來得及答話之前，門突然開了，華生先生大搖大擺地走進來。在菲利浦看來，他實在很巨大。他超過六呎高，身體很寬，一雙巨掌，一臉大紅鬍子；他嗓門大，聲調平易近人，可是他那股氣盛的快活勁，卻使菲利浦膽戰心驚。他同凱里先生握手，接著抓住菲利浦的小手。

「喂，小伙子，喜歡來上學嗎？」他大聲說。

「你幾歲了？」

「九歲，」菲利浦說。

「你該稱呼先生，」他的伯父說。

「看來你有很多東西要學，」校長爽快地大嚷。

為了給孩子鼓勵，他開始用他的粗大的手指搔逗菲利浦。菲利浦被他摸得既難堪，又難受的扭動身子。

「目前我已經把他安排住在小宿舍……你會喜歡的，不是嗎？」他朝菲利浦加了一句。「你們那兒只有八個人。你不會感到太陌生的。」

這時門打開了，華生太太走了進來。她是個有暗黑膚色的婦人，黑頭髮整潔地中分，嘴唇出奇的厚，小鼻子圓圓的，一雙眼睛又大又黑。她的的神態冷若冰霜，難得啟口，更難一見笑容。華生先生把凱里先生介紹給她，然後友善地把菲利浦推給她。

「海倫，這是個新來的男孩，名叫凱里。」

她不作聲地同菲利浦握手，然後坐下來；同時，校長問凱里先生菲利浦懂些什麼？被教些什麼書？來自布萊克斯泰勃的牧師有點受不了華生先生的熱誠關心，沒一會兒就起身告辭了。

「我想，菲利浦現在就拜託你啦。」

「沒事，」華生先生說。「孩子在我這兒很安全。他一下子就習慣啦。不是嗎，小夥子？」

沒等菲利浦回答，這大男人就放聲大笑起來。凱里先生在菲利浦額上親了一下就走了。

「跟我來，小伙子，」華生先生扯著嗓門說，「我帶你去看看教室。」

華生先生邁著大步，大搖大擺地走出客廳，菲利浦趕緊在他後面一拐一拐地跟著。他被帶進一個長長的空蕩蕩的房間，只有兩張和房間等長的桌子，和桌子兩邊的板凳。

「現在這裡沒什麼人，」華生先生說，「我要帶你去看操場，然後讓你自由活動。」

華生先生帶著路；菲利浦發現自己在一個大操場裡，操場的三面都是高磚牆，第四面是一道鐵柵欄，透過欄柵，你會看見一大片草坪，再過去就是皇家學校的幾棟校舍。一個小男孩在操場上無精打采地閒逛，邊走邊踢著碎石子。

「喂，文寧Venning，」華生先生大聲招呼，「你什麼時候來的？」

小男孩走上前來同華生先生握手。

「這是個新同學，年紀和個子都比你大，可別欺負他呀。」

校長友好地瞪著這兩個孩子，他的如雷貫耳的嗓音把孩子們嚇住了，然後哈哈笑著走掉了。

「你叫什麼名字？」

「凱里。」

「你爸爸是幹什麼的？」

「他去世了。」

「哦！你媽媽替人洗衣服嗎？」

「我媽媽也去世了。」

菲利浦以為他的回答會使那孩子有點尷尬，但是文寧不為所動，繼續嬉皮笑臉地問：「哦，那她生前洗過衣服嗎？」

「洗過的，」菲利浦生氣地回答。

「所以她是個洗衣婆？」

「不，她不是。」

「那她就沒給人洗過衣服。」

這小男孩辯贏了，很是洋洋得意。接著他看見了菲利浦的腳。

「你的腳怎麼啦？」

菲利浦本能地縮回那隻腳，藏在好腳的後面。

「我的腳掌翻轉畸形，」他回答道。

「怎麼搞的？」

「生下來就這樣。」

「讓我看看。」

「不。」

「不看就算了。」

那孩子一面說，一面兇猛地踢菲利浦的小腿脛；菲利浦猝不及防，痛得他喘不過氣來。但是比疼痛更厲害的是驚訝；他實在不明白文寧為什麼要踢他。他沒想到要還擊，何況這男孩年紀比他小。他在《男童報》上看過，揍一個比自己年幼的對手是件卑鄙的事。當菲利浦正在看顧他的腿脛的時候，操場上又出現了另一個孩子，那個踢人的孩子撇開他走了。過了一會兒，他注意到那一對正在說他，他覺得他們在注視他的腳。他渾身發熱，很不舒服。

不過，又來了一批孩子，有一打，再一會兒又多了幾個，他們開始談假期裡幹的事，去過的地方，玩了很精采的板球。

不少新的男孩子來了，一下子菲利浦同他們聊了起來。他有點羞怯和緊張。他很想使自己愉快起來，卻找不到什麼話題。別人問了他一大堆問題，他也很樂意地全都回答。有個小男孩問他會不會打板球。

「不會，」菲利浦說，「我的腳掌翻轉畸形。」

那男孩很快的向下看了一眼，馬上漲紅了臉。菲利浦看到那孩子覺得他自己問了一個不得體的問題，羞得連道歉的話都說不出口，很尷尬地看著菲利浦。

*****************

The Careys made up their minds to send Philip to King's School at Tercanbury. The neighbouring clergy sent their sons there. It was united by long tradition to the Cathedral: its headmaster was an honorary Canon, and a past headmaster was the Archdeacon. Boys were encouraged there to aspire to Holy Orders, and the education was such as might prepare an honest lad to spend his life in God's service. A preparatory school was attached to it, and to this it was arranged that Philip should go. Mr. Carey took him into Tercanbury one Thursday afternoon towards the end of September. All day Philip had been excited and rather frightened. He knew little of school life but what he had read in the stories of The Boy's Own Paper. He had also read Eric, or Little by Little.

When they got out of the train at Tercanbury, Philip felt sick with apprehension, and during the drive in to the town sat pale and silent. The high brick wall in front of the school gave it the look of a prison. There was a little door in it, which opened on their ringing; and a clumsy, untidy man came out and fetched Philip's tin trunk and his play-box. They were shown into the drawing-room; it was filled with massive, ugly furniture, and the chairs of the suite were placed round the walls with a forbidding rigidity. They waited for the headmaster.

"What's Mr. Watson like?" asked Philip, after a while.

"You'll see for yourself."

There was another pause. Mr. Carey wondered why the headmaster did not come. Presently Philip made an effort and spoke again.

"Tell him I've got a club-foot," he said.

Before Mr. Carey could speak the door burst open and Mr. Watson swept into the room. To Philip he seemed gigantic. He was a man of over six feet high, and broad, with enormous hands and a great red beard; he talked loudly in a jovial manner; but his aggressive cheerfulness struck terror in Philip's heart. He shook hands with Mr. Carey, and then took Philip's small hand in his.

"Well, young fellow, are you glad to come to school?" he shouted.

Philip reddened and found no word to answer.

"How old are you?"

"Nine," said Philip.

"You must say sir," said his uncle.

"I expect you've got a good lot to learn," the headmaster bellowed cheerily.

To give the boy confidence he began to tickle him with rough fingers. Philip, feeling shy and uncomfortable, squirmed under his touch.

"I've put him in the small dormitory for the present…. You'll like that, won't you?" he added to Philip. "Only eight of you in there. You won't feel so strange."

Then the door opened, and Mrs. Watson came in. She was a dark woman with black hair, neatly parted in the middle. She had curiously thick lips and a small round nose. Her eyes were large and black. There was a singular coldness in her appearance. She seldom spoke and smiled more seldom still. Her husband introduced Mr. Carey to her, and then gave Philip a friendly push towards her.

"This is a new boy, Helen, His name's Carey."

Without a word she shook hands with Philip and then sat down, not speaking, while the headmaster asked Mr. Carey how much Philip knew and what books he had been working with. The Vicar of Blackstable was a little embarrassed by Mr. Watson's boisterous heartiness, and in a moment or two got up.

"I think I'd better leave Philip with you now."

"That's all right," said Mr. Watson. "He'll be safe with me. He'll get on like a house on fire. Won't you, young fellow?"

Without waiting for an answer from Philip the big man burst into a great bellow of laughter. Mr. Carey kissed Philip on the forehead and went away.

"Come along, young fellow," shouted Mr. Watson. "I'll show you the school-room."

He swept out of the drawing-room with giant strides, and Philip hurriedly limped behind him. He was taken into a long, bare room with two tables that ran along its whole length; on each side of them were wooden forms.

"Nobody much here yet," said Mr. Watson. "I'll just show you the playground, and then I'll leave you to shift for yourself."

Mr. Watson led the way. Philip found himself in a large play-ground with high brick walls on three sides of it. On the fourth side was an iron railing through which you saw a vast lawn and beyond this some of the buildings of King's School. One small boy was wandering disconsolately, kicking up the gravel as he walked.

"Hulloa, Venning," shouted Mr. Watson. "When did you turn up?"

The small boy came forward and shook hands.

"Here's a new boy. He's older and bigger than you, so don't you bully him."

The headmaster glared amicably at the two children, filling them with fear by the roar of his voice, and then with a guffaw left them.

"What's your name?"

"Carey."

"What's your father?"

"He's dead."

"Oh! Does your mother wash?"

"My mother's dead, too."

Philip thought this answer would cause the boy a certain awkwardness, but Venning was not to be turned from his facetiousness for so little.

"Well, did she wash?" he went on.

"Yes," said Philip indignantly.

"She was a washerwoman then?"

"No, she wasn't."

"Then she didn't wash."

The little boy crowed with delight at the success of his dialectic. Then he caught sight of Philip's feet.

"What's the matter with your foot?"

Philip instinctively tried to withdraw it from sight. He hid it behind the one which was whole.

"I've got a club-foot," he answered.

"How did you get it?"

"I've always had it."

"Let's have a look."

"No."

"Don't then."

The little boy accompanied the words with a sharp kick on Philip's shin, which Philip did not expect and thus could not guard against. The pain was so great that it made him gasp, but greater than the pain was the surprise. He did not know why Venning kicked him. He had not the presence of mind to give him a black eye. Besides, the boy was smaller than he, and he had read in The Boy's Own Paper that it was a mean thing to hit anyone smaller than yourself. While Philip was nursing his shin a third boy appeared, and his tormentor left him. In a little while he noticed that the pair were talking about him, and he felt they were looking at his feet. He grew hot and uncomfortable.

But others arrived, a dozen together, and then more, and they began to talk about their doings during the holidays, where they had been, and what wonderful cricket they had played. A few new boys appeared, and with these presently Philip found himself talking. He was shy and nervous. He was anxious to make himself pleasant, but he could not think of anything to say. He was asked a great many questions and answered them all quite willingly. One boy asked him whether he could play cricket.

"No," answered Philip. "I've got a club-foot."

The boy looked down quickly and reddened. Philip saw that he felt he had asked an unseemly question. He was too shy to apologise and looked at Philip awkwardly.