Chapter 25

ASHES OF TINDER: THE LOOSING OF STAYS

When Hurstwood got back to his office again he was in a greater quandary than ever. Lord, Lord, he thought, what had he got into? How could things have taken such a violent turn, and so quickly? He could hardly realise how it had all come about. It seemed a monstrous, unnatural, unwarranted condition which had suddenly descended upon him without his let or hindrance.

Meanwhile he gave a thought now and then to Carrie. What could be the trouble in that quarter? No letter had come, no word of any kind, and yet here it was late in the evening and she had agreed to meet him that morning. To-morrow they were to have met and gone off -- where? He saw that in the excitement of recent events he had not formulated a plan upon that score. He was desperately in love, and would have taken great chances to win her under ordinary circumstances, but now -- now what? Supposing she had found out something? Supposing she, too, wrote him and told him that she knew all -- that she would have nothing more to do with him? It would be just like this to happen as things were going now. Meanwhile he had not sent the money.

He strolled up and down the polished floor of the resort, his hands in his pockets, his brow wrinkled, his mouth set. He was getting some vague comfort out of a good cigar, but it was no panacea for the ill which affected him. Every once in a while he would clinch his fingers and tap his foot -- signs of the stirring mental process he was undergoing. His whole nature was vigorously and powerfully shaken up, and he was finding what limits the mind has to endurance. He drank more brandy and soda than he had any evening in months. He was altogether a fine example of great mental perturbation.

For all his study nothing came of the evening except this -- he sent the money. It was with great opposition, after two or three hours of the most urgent mental affirmation and denial, that at last he got an envelope, placed in it the requested amount, and slowly sealed it up.

Then he called Harry, the boy of all work around the place.

"You take this to this address," he said, handing him the envelope, "and give it to Mrs. Hurstwood."

"Yes, sir," said the boy.

"If she isn't there bring it back."

"Yes, sir."

"You've seen my wife?" he asked as a precautionary measure as the boy turned to go.

"Oh, yes, sir. I know her."

"All right, now. Hurry right back."

"Any answer?"

"I guess not."

The boy hastened away and the manager fell to his musings. Now he had done it. There was no use speculating over that. He was beaten for to-night and he might just as well make the best of it. But, oh, the wretchedness of being forced this way! He could see her meeting the boy at the door and smiling sardonically. She would take the envelope and know that she had triumphed. If he only had that letter back he wouldn't send it. He breathed heavily and wiped the moisture from his face.

For relief, he arose and joined in conversation with a few friends who were drinking. He tried to get the interest of things about him, but it was not to be. All the time his thoughts would run out to his home and see the scene being therein enacted. All the time he was wondering what she would say when the boy handed her the envelope.

In about an hour and three-quarters the boy returned. He had evidently delivered the package, for, as he came up, he made no sign of taking anything out of his pocket.

"Well?" said Hurstwood.

"I gave it to her."

"My wife?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any answer?"

"She said it was high time."

Hurstwood scowled fiercely.

There was no more to be done upon that score that night. He went on brooding over his situation until midnight, when he repaired again to the Palmer House. He wondered what the morning would bring forth, and slept anything but soundly upon it.

Next day he went again to the office and opened his mail, suspicious and hopeful of its contents. No word from Carrie. Nothing from his wife, which was pleasant.

The fact that he had sent the money and that she had received it worked to the ease of his mind, for, as the thought that he had done it receded, his chagrin at it grew less and his hope of peace more. He fancied, as he sat at his desk, that nothing would be done for a week or two. Meanwhile, he would have time to think.

This process of thinking began by a reversion to Carrie and the arrangement by which he was to get her away from Drouet. How about that now? His pain at her failure to meet or write him rapidly increased as he devoted himself to this subject. He decided to write her care of the West Side Post-office and ask for an explanation, as well as to have her meet him. The thought that this letter would probably not reach her until Monday chafed him exceedingly. He must get some speedier method -- but how?

He thought upon it for a half-hour, not contemplating a messenger or a cab direct to the house, owing to the exposure of it, but finding that time was slipping away to no purpose, he wrote the letter and then began to think again.

The hours slipped by, and with them the possibility of the union he had contemplated. He had thought to be joyously aiding Carrie by now in the task of joining her interests to his, and here it was afternoon and nothing done. Three o'clock came, four, five, six, and no letter. The helpless manager paced the floor and grimly endured the gloom of defeat. He saw a busy Saturday ushered out, the Sabbath in, and nothing done. All day, the bar being closed, he brooded alone, shut out from home, from the excitement of his resort, from Carrie, and without the ability to alter his condition one iota. It was the worst Sunday he had spent in his life.

In Monday's second mail he encountered a very legal-looking letter which held his interest for some time. It bore the imprint of the law offices of McGregor, James and Hay, and with a very formal "Dear Sir," and "We beg to state," went on to inform him briefly that they had been retained by Mrs. Julia Hurstwood to adjust certain matters which related to her sustenance and property rights, and would he kindly call and see them about the matter at once.

He read it through carefully several times, and then merely shook his head. It seemed as if his family troubles were just beginning.

"Well!" he said after a time, quite audibly, "I don't know."

Then he folded it up and put it in his pocket.

To add to his misery there was no word from Carrie. He was quite certain now that she knew he was married and was angered at his perfidy. His loss seemed all the more bitter now that he needed her most. He thought he would go out and insist on seeing her if she did not send him word of some sort soon. He was really affected most miserably of all by this desertion. He had loved her earnestly enough, but now that the possibility of losing her stared him in the face she seemed much more attractive. He really pined for a word, and looked out upon her with his mind's eye in the most wistful manner. He did not propose to lose her, whatever she might think. Come what might, he would adjust this matter, and soon. He would go to her and tell her all his family complications. He would explain to her just where he stood and how much he needed her. Surely she couldn't go back on him now? It wasn't possible. He would plead until her anger would melt -- until she would forgive him.

Suddenly he thought: "Supposing she isn't out there -- suppose she has gone?"

He was forced to take his feet. It was too much to think of and sit still.

Nevertheless, his rousing availed him nothing.

On Tuesday it was the same way. He did manage to bring himself into the mood to go out to Carrie, but when he got in Ogden Place he thought he saw a man watching him and went away. He did not go within a block of the house.

One of the galling incidents of this visit was that he came back on a Randolph Street car, and without noticing arrived almost opposite the building of the concern with which his son was connected. This sent a pang through his heart. He had called on his boy there several times. Now the lad had not sent him a word. His absence did not seem to be noticed by either of his children. Well, well, fortune plays a man queer tricks. He got back to his office and joined in a conversation with friends. It was as if idle chatter deadened the sense of misery.

That night he dined at Rector's and returned at once to his office. In the bustle and show of the latter was his only relief. He troubled over many little details and talked perfunctorily to everybody. He stayed at his desk long after all others had gone, and only quitted it when the night watchman on his round pulled at the front door to see if it was safely locked.

On Wednesday, he received another polite note from McGregor, James and Hay. It read:

Dear Sir:

We beg to inform you that we are instructed to wait until tomorrow (Thursday) at one o'clock, before filing suit against you, on behalf of Mrs. Julia Hurstwood, for divorce and alimony. If we do not hear from you before that time we shall consider that you do not wish to compromise the matter in any way and act accordingly.

Very truly yours, etc.

"Compromise!" exclaimed Hurstwood bitterly. "Compromise!" Again he shook his head.

So here it was spread out clear before him, and now he knew what to expect. If he didn't go and see them they would sue him promptly. If he did, he would be offered terms that would make his blood boil. He folded the letter and put it with the other one. Then he put on his hat and went for a turn about the block.

第二十五章

内战的余火：六神无主

赫斯渥回到办公室以后，感到更加进退维谷。他想，上帝啊，他落入了什么样的困境埃事情怎么会这样突如起来地急转直下？他难以理解这一切是怎么发生的。突然降临到他头上，让他无法抗拒阻挡的这局面在他看来简直是荒诞可怖，不近人情，毫无道理。

与此同时，他不时想到嘉莉。这方面又会发生什么问题呢？既没有信，也没有任何消息。现在已经是夜里了，她原先答应早上和他见面的。本来他们约好明天会合一起私奔的—-到哪里去呢？最近一连串的事情把他弄得焦头烂额，他发现他竟然对这个问题一点没有打算。他疯狂地爱着嘉莉，在正常的情况下，他会不顾一切地把她赢到手。但是现在--现在该怎么办呢？也许她已经得知了什么？假如她写信给他，说她什么都知道了，她再也不愿意和他来往了，那怎么办呢？照目前的形势看，这种事很可能发生的。接着他又想到，他的钱还没有送去。

他在酒店的打蜡地面上走来走去，手插在口袋里，眉头紧皱，嘴巴紧闭。他抽了支上等雪茄，模模糊糊地感到心里好受了一些。但是雪茄烟无法帮他解决那些给他带来痛苦的倒霉事。他不时地捏紧拳头，用一只脚敲着地--这是他心情激动不安的迹象。他的心灵受到了剧烈的震撼，忍耐力已接近极限。几个月来他第一次喝了那么多白兰地兑苏打水，活脱脱是一副心烦意乱的模样。

整个晚上，他翻来覆去地思索，但是毫无结果，只干成了一件事--他把钱送去了。经过两三个小时的紧张思想斗争，反复掂量了正反两方面的利弊，他才不情愿地拿过一个信封，把索取的金额装进去，又慢吞吞地封了信口。

然后他把店里的勤杂工哈里叫了过来。

“把这信封按地址送去，”他把信交给他时说道，“交给赫斯渥太太。”“是，先生，”仆役说道。

“如果她不在家，就把信拿回来。”

“是，先生。”

“你见过我太太吗？”仆役转身要走时，他又不放心地问了一句。

“嗯，见过，先生。我认识她。”

“那好吧，快去快回。”

“要回信吗？”

“我看不会有。”

仆役急急走了，经理又陷入了沉思。现在事情已经做了，再忖量也没有用了。今晚他既然已经认输，对失败还不如泰然处之为妙。可是这样被骗认输太让人难堪了！他可以想象得到她怎么脸带讥笑在门口接待仆役。她会收下信封知道是自己赢了。要是他能拿回信封就好了。他实在不乐意让她拿到那个信封。他粗粗地呼吸着，擦了擦脸上的汗。

为了消愁，他站起身，加入到正喝酒的几个朋友中去，和他们聊天。他竭力要对周围的事情发生兴趣，可是办不到。他的心思早已飞回家中，想象着家里正在演出的那一幕，猜测当仆役把信封递给她时，她会说些什么。

过了１小时３刻钟，仆役回来了。很显然他已把信送到了，因为当他向他走来时，并没有做出要从口袋里掏东西的样子。

“怎么样？”赫斯渥问道。

“我把信交给她了。”

“是交给我妻子的吗？”

“是的，先生。”

“有答复吗？”

“她说，信来得正是时候。”

赫斯渥沉下了脸。

那天晚上这件事就算了结了。他继续惦量着他的处境，直到夜里１２点回帕尔默旅馆去过夜。他心里想着第二天早上可能发生的新情况，所以这一晚难以入眠。

第二天早上，他又来到酒店的写字间，打开他的邮件，既忐忑不安又怀着希望。没有嘉莉的信，不过让他欣慰的是，也没有他太太的信。

他送去了钱，她也收下了，这个事实使他心安了。他不再去想钱是被迫送去的，所以他的懊恼就减轻了，同时对和解的希望也增加了。当他坐在办公桌旁时，他幻想着这一两个星期之内不会有什么事了，这期间他会有时间好好想想。

他一开始好好想想，思绪就回到了嘉莉身上，回到让她脱离杜洛埃的计划上。这件事现在该怎么办呢？他一门心思地想着这个问题，想到她既没来和他见面，也没写信给他，使他心中痛楚遽增。他决定要给她写封信，通过西区邮局转交。他要请求她给个解释，还要请她来和他见面。想到她也许要到星期一才会收到这封信，他心里痛苦不堪。他必须想出一个更快的办法--但是怎么办呢？

这个问题他想了半小时。因为怕暴露，他既不打算差人送信，也不打算坐马车直接上她家。他发现时间在流逝，而办法却想不出来，于是他就先把信写了，然后接着想。

时间一小时一小时地溜走了。随着时间的消逝，他原先打算的和嘉莉团聚的可能性也消失了。照原先的打算，他现在该兴高采烈地帮助嘉莉，让她和他同甘共苦。现在已是下午，他还一事无成。３点过去了，４点，５点，６点，一直没有信来。这位一筹莫展的经理在屋里踱着步，默默忍受着失败的痛苦。眼看着忙忙碌碌的星期六过去了，又迎来了礼拜天，还是一事无成。星期天酒吧整天关门，他独自沉思着，无家可归。没有热闹的酒店消愁，又没有嘉莉相伴，他内心的凄凉痛苦无法排解，这是他有生以来最糟糕的星期天。

星期一的第二批邮件中，他收到一封像是法律事务所来的信，好一阵子他注意地看着信封。信上面印着麦·詹·海三人事务所的字样。信里面客套地用“先生阁下”和“敬告”字样开头，接着简短地通知他，他们受朱利亚·赫斯渥太太委托，就她的赡养问题和产权问题进行调停，务请惠顾面谈云云。

他仔细地读了好几遍，然后摇了摇头。看起来他的家庭麻烦还只是开了一个头。

“唉！”过了一会儿，他几乎说出声来，“这让人如何是好。”然后他把信迭起来，放进口袋。

嘉莉仍然没有信来，这更加剧了他心中的痛苦。他现在已可以断定，她已经得知他是有妇之夫，对于他的欺瞒行为非常生气。在他最需要的时候失去她，使他加倍痛苦。他想，如果他再收不到她的信，他就要去找她，非见到她不可。在所有的事情中，她的遗弃确实让他最为痛苦。他确确实实一心一意地爱着她，现在面临失去她的危险，她在他眼中显得分外可爱。

他苦苦盼着她的来信，如痴如醉地思念着她。不管她怎么想，他不能失去她。无论如何，他要解决这个问题，而且尽快地解决。他要去见她，把他家里的纠葛都告诉她。他要向她解释目前的处境，告诉她他有多么需要她。当然，她不会在这种时候抛其他吧？当然不会。他要苦苦哀求，一直到她消了气，一直到她原谅他。

他突然想到：“会不会她已经不在那里了--会不会已经走了？”这个念头使他跳了起来。坐在那里想这种可能性太让人受不了了。

然而站起来也于事无补。

星期二情况照旧。他确实鼓起勇气出去找过嘉莉，但是当他走到奥登广场时，他感到有人在注意他，只好走开了。他没有走近公寓所在的那条马路。

这次拜访中还发生了一件让他难堪的事情。他坐蓝道夫大街的街车回来时，不知不觉地，差一点来到了他儿子上班的那家商号大楼的对面。这使他心里一阵刺痛。他曾好几次去那里看望他的儿子。而如今，他儿子连一个字也没写给他。他的两个儿女似乎谁也没有注意到他没回家。唉，命运真会捉弄人埃他回到酒店，加入到朋友们中间聊天，好像闲聊可以麻痹他心中的痛楚。

那天晚上，他在雷克脱大饭店吃了晚饭。饭后他立刻回到他的办公室。只有在熙熙攘攘气派豪华的酒店里，他才能得些安慰。他过问店里的琐细事务，和每个人都聊上两句。在所有的人都离开后，他还久久地坐在办公桌旁。直到巡夜人巡逻到酒店，试着拉前门是否锁好的时候，他才离开。

星期三，他收到了麦·詹·海事务所的通知。上面客客气气地写道：阁下：本事务所受命通知您，本所将恭候阁下到明天即星期四下午一时。届时如不光临，本所将代表朱利亚·赫斯渥太太就离婚和赡养事务一案提起诉讼。在此期限之前，敬乞覆示。否则本所将认为阁下无意和解，而采取相应行动。

某某谨启

“和解！”赫斯渥恨恨地嚷道。“和解！”他又摇了摇头。

现在一切都明摆在面前，他知道什么样的结果等待着他。

如果他不去见他们，他们立刻会对他提出诉讼。如果他去见他们，他们会向他提出苛刻的条件，让他气得热血沸腾。他把信折起来，把它和上封信放在一起。然后他戴上帽子，在街区周围散步。