【荆棘鸟】第七章 13

 “I hear we’re going to lose you, Father,” said Miss Carmichaelnastily.He had never looked so remote, so devoid 1 of human feeling ashe did that morning in his laceless alb and dull black chasuble withsilver cross. It was as if he attended only in body, while his spiritmoved far away. But he looked down at Miss Carmichael absently,seemed to recollect 2 himself, and smiled with genuine mirth.“God moves in strange ways, Miss Carmichael,” he said, andwent to speak to someone else.What was on his mind no one could have guessed; it was thecoming confrontation 3 with Paddy over the will, and his dread 4 ofseeing Paddy’s rage, his need of Paddy’s rage and contempt.Before he began the Requiem 5 Mass he turned to face his congregation;the room was jammed, and reeked 6 so of roses that openwindows could not dissipate their heavy perfume. 
      “I do not intend to make a long eulogy,” he said in his clear, almostOxford diction with its faint Irish underlay 7. “Mary Carsonwas known to you all. A pillar of the community, a pillar of theChurch she loved more than any living being.”At that point there were those who swore his eyes mocked, butothers who maintained just as stoutly 8 that they were dulled with areal and abiding 9 grief.“A pillar of the Church she loved more than any living being,”he repeated more clearly still; he was not one to turn away, either.“In her last hour she was alone, yet she was not alone. For in thehour of our death Our Lord Jesus Christ is with us, within us, bearing the burdenof our agony. Not the greatest nor the humblest living beingdies alone, and death is sweet. We are gathered here to pray forher immortal 10 soul, that she whom we loved in life shall enjoy herjust and eternal reward. Let us pray.”The makeshift coffin 11 was so covered in roses it could not be seen,and it rested upon a small wheeled cart the boys had cannibalizedfrom various pieces of farm equipment. Even so, with the windowsgaping open and the overpowering scent 12 of roses, they could smellher.
      The doctor had been talking, too. “When I reached Drogheda she was so rotten that I just couldn’t hold my stomach,” he said on the party line to Martin King. “I’ve never felt so sorry for anyone in all my life as I did then for Paddy Cleary, not only because he’s been done out of Drogheda but because he had to shove that awful seething 13 heap in a coffin.” “Then I’m not volunteering for the office of pallbearer,” Martin said, so faintly because of all the receivers down that the doctor had to make him repeat the statement three times before he understood it. Hence the cart; no one was willing to shoulder the remains 14 of Mary Carson across the lawn to the vault 15. And no one was sorry when the vault doors were closed on her and breathing could become normal at last. 
      While the mourners clustered in the big dining room eating, or trying to look as if they were eating, Harry 16 Gough conducted Paddy, his family, Father Ralph, Mrs. Smith and the two maids to the drawing room. None of the mourners had any intention of going home yet, hence the pretense 17 at eating; they wanted to be on hand to see what Paddy looked like when he came out after the reading of the will. To do him and his family justice, they hadn’t comported 18 themselves during the funeral as if conscious of their elevated status. As good-hearted as ever, Paddy had wept for his sister, and Fee looked exactly as she always did, as if she didn’t care what happened to her.  “Paddy, I want you to contest,” Harry Gough said after he had read the amazing document through in a hard, indignant voice. “The wicked old bitch!” said Mrs. Smith; though she liked the priest, she was fonder by far of the Clearys. They had brought babies and children into her life. But Paddy shook his head. “No, Harry! I couldn’t do that. The property was hers, wasn’t it? She was quite entitled to do what she liked with it. If she wanted the Church to have it, she wanted the Church to have it. I don’t deny it’s a bit of a disappointment, but I’m just an ordinary sort of chap, so perhaps it’s for the best. I don’t think I’d like the responsibility of owning a property the size of Drogheda.” 
      “You don’t understand, Paddy!” the lawyer said in a slow, distinct voice, as if he were explaining to a child. “It isn’t just Drogheda I’m talking about. Drogheda was the least part of what your sister had to leave, believe me. She’s a major shareholder 19 in a hundred gilt-edged companies, she owns steel factories and gold mines, she’s Michar Limited, with a ten-story office building all to herself in Sydney. She was worth more than anyone in the whole of Australia! Funny, she made me contact the Sydney directors of Michar Limited not four weeks ago, to find out the exact extent of her assets. When she died she was worth something over thirteen million pounds.” “Thirteen million pounds!” Paddy said it as one says the distance from the earth to the sun, something totally incomprehensible. 
      “That settles it, Harry. I don’t want the responsibility of that kind of money.” “It’s no responsibility, Paddy! Don’t you understand yet? Money like that looks after itself! You’d have nothing to do with cultivating or harvesting it; there are hundreds of people employed simply to take care of it for you. Contest the will, Paddy, please! I’ll get you the best KCs in the country and I’ll fight it for you all the way to the Privy 20 Council if necessary.” Suddenly realizing that his family were as concerned as himself, Paddy turned to Bob and Jack 21, sitting together bewildered on a Florentine marble bench. “Boys, what do you say? Do you want to go after Auntie Mary’s thirteen million quid? If you do I’ll contest, not otherwise.” “But we can live on Drogheda anyway, isn’t that what the will says?” Bob asked. Harry answered. 
      “No one can turn you off Drogheda so long as even one of your father’s grandchildren lives.” 
      “We’re going to live here in the big house, have Mrs. Smith and the girls to look after us, and earn a decent wage,” said Paddy as if he could hardly believe his good fortune rather than his bad. “Then what more do we want, Jack?” Bob asked his brother. “Don’t you agree?” “It suits me,” said Jack. 
      Father Ralph moved restlessly. He had not stopped to shed his Requiem vestments, nor had he taken a chair; like a dark and beautiful sorcerer he stood half in the shadows at the back of the room, isolated 22, his hands hidden beneath the black chasuble, his face still, and at the back of the distant blue eyes a horrified 23, stunned 24 resentment 25. There was not even going to be the longed-for chastisement 26 of rage or contempt; Paddy was going to hand it all to him on a golden plate of goodwill 27, and thank him for relieving the Clearys of a burden. “What about Fee and Meggie?” the priest asked Paddy harshly. “Do you not think enough of your women to consult them, too?” “Fee?” asked Paddy anxiously. “Whatever you decide, Paddy. I don’t care.” “Meggie?”  “I don’t want her thirteen million pieces of silver,” Meggie said, her eyes fixed 28 on Father Ralph. Paddy turned to the lawyer. “Then that’s it, Harry. We don’t want to contest the will. Let the Church have Mary’s money, and welcome.” Harry struck his hands together. “God damn it, I hate to see you cheated!” “I thank my stars for Mary,” said Paddy gently. “If it wasn’t for her I’d still be trying to scrape a living in New Zealand.” 
      As they came out of the drawing room Paddy stopped Father Ralph and held out his hand, in full view of the fascinated mourners clustering in the dining room doorway 29. “Father, please don’t think there are any hard feelings on our side. Mary was never swayed by another human being in all her life, priest or brother or husband. You take it from me, she did what she wanted to do. You were mighty 30 good to her, and you’ve been mighty good to us. We’ll never forget it.” The guilt 31. The burden. Almost Father Ralph did not move to take that gnarled stained hand, but the cardinal’s brain won; he gripped it feverishly 32 and smiled, agonized 33. “Thank you, Paddy. You may rest assured I’ll see you never want for a thing.” Within the week he was gone, not having appeared on Drogheda again. He spent the few days packing his scant 34 belongings 35, and touring every station in the district where there were Catholic families; save Drogheda. Father Watkin Thomas, late of Wales, arrived to assume the duties of parish priest to the Gillanbone district, while Father Ralph de Bricassart became private secretary to Archbishop Cluny Dark. But his work load was light; he had two undersecretaries. For the most part he was occupied in discovering just what and how much Mary Carson had owned, and in gathering 36 the reins 37 of government together on behalf of the Church. 
 

"我听说，我们要失去您啦，神父，"卡迈克尔小姐不怀好意地说道。　　那天早晨，他穿上那件没有花边的白长袍和带银十字的、暗淡的黑十字褡的时候，从来没显得如此冷淡，如此缺少人情味，仿佛在这里的只是他的躯体，而他的灵魂已经远去了。他温不经心地低头看着卡迈克尔小姐，勉强使自己打起精神，扮出笑脸。
　　"卡迈克尔小姐，上帝的天机不可测啊。"他说着，又走去和别人讲话了。
　　他的脑子里正在想些什么。也许谁都能猜到。他正在想着由于遗嘱而即将面临的与帕迪的对抗，他既害怕看到帕迪怒火万丈，又需要帕迪的震怒与蔑视。
　　在做追思弥撒之前，他转过身来面对着他的教民们。屋子里挤得不泄不通，玫瑰花散发出浓重的香味，即使窗户全都开着，也无法使这香气消散。
　　"我不打算致一篇冗长的颂词，"他用清晰的、略带着一点儿爱尔兰味的、相当地道的牛津音说道。"你们都认识玛丽·卡森。她是社会的栋梁，教会的支柱，她对教会的热爱超过了任何活着的人。"
　　话说到这儿，有些人敢起誓，他的眼睛里含着嘲弄，而其他的人则一动不动地站在那里，由衷而持久的悲伤使他们变得迟饨了。
　　"她是教会的支柱，她对教会的热爱超过了任何活着的人，"他更加清晰地重复了一遍，他不是那种不敢面对挑战的人。"在她弥留的时刻，她是孤独的，然而她又是不孤独的。因为在我们弥留的时刻，我主耶稣基督和我们在一起。他和我们在一起，替我们承担着极度的痛苦。最伟大的人和最卑微的人的死亡都不是孤独的；死是乐事。我们聚集在这里为她不朽的灵魂而祈祷，在活着的时候得到我们爱戴的她将享有公平和的永恒的报答。让我们祈祷吧。"
　　那临时凑合的棺材被玫瑰花严严实实地盖着，无法看到。它放在一辆带轮的轻便车上，这是男孩子们拆卸了农场一些设备拼装起来的。即使如此，窗户洞开着，玫瑰散发浓厚的香气，他们肮脏然能闻到她尸体的气味；连医生都这么说。
　　"我到德国海达的时候，她已经腐烂得不成样子了，我简直忍不住要倒胃。"他在电话上对马丁·金说道。"我一生中从来没有象我同情帕迪·克利里那样同情过任何一个人。这不仅是因为他被人骗去了德罗活达，而且因为他不得不把那一堆可怕的、乱糟糟的东西硬塞进了棺材里。"
　　"那我可不愿意当抬棺人了。"马丁说道，由于所有的话筒都不够灵敏，声音很微弱，医生不得不让他把话重复了三次才听明白。
　　多亏有了那辆轻便车，因为谁也不愿意扛着玛丽·卡森的遗体，穿过草坪抬到墓穴去，当墓穴盖在她的身上盖上，人们终于能正常呼吸的时候，谁也没感到有什么遗憾。
　　在送葬者们群集在大餐厅里吃饭，或尽力做出吃饭的样子的同时，哈里·高夫把帕迪、他的家人、拉尔夫神父、史密斯太太和两个女仆带到了会客室。送葬者中谁也没有回家的意思，因此，都装出吃东西的样子。他们都想就近看看在宣读完遗嘱后，帕迪走出来时的神态。为了对他和他的家人进行公道的评判，在葬礼期间人们都没有做出任何举动，仿佛意识到了自己非同一般的地位似的。帕迪还是象往日那样好心，为他的姐姐哭了一场，而菲也显得和往日一样，好象对她身边发生的事情总是漠然处之。
　　"帕迪，我希望你起诉，"哈里·高夫用生硬的、愤怒的声音念完了那份令人惊愕的文件之后，说道。
　　"这个可恶的老太婆！"史密斯太太说道。尽管她喜欢这位教士，便是她更喜欢克利里家的人。他们在她的生活中带来了一对婴儿和其他的孩子。
　　可是，帕迪却摇了摇头。"不，哈里！我不能那样做。这笔财产是她的，对吧？她愿意怎样处理，完全有权利。要是她希望让教会得到它的话、那就按她希望让教会得到它吧、我不否认，这有点儿叫人失望；可是，我不过是个普普通通的小人物，所以，这也许是最好的做法。我并不认为我喜欢拥有德罗海达这样规模的产业的责任。"
　　"你不明白，帕迪！"律师用缓慢而清楚的声音说道，就好象他是在向一个孩子进行解释。"我所谈的不仅仅是德罗海达。请相信我，德罗海达不过是令姐遗产中微不足道的一部分。她在上百个第一流的公司中都是主要的股东。她拥有钢铁厂和金矿，拥有米查尔有限公司，在悉尼有一幢十层的办公楼。这些全都是属于她的。她比澳大利亚的任何一个人都有钱！真可笑，不到四个星期之前，她才刚刚让我与米查尔有限公司的经理们联系，查一查她财产的确切的规模。在她死的时候，她拥有的财产大概在一千三百万镑以上。"
　　"一千三百万镑！"帕迪就象在谈论地球到太阳之间的距离似地说道；他感到十分茫然。"事情已经定下来了，哈里。我并不想为这种钱财承担责任。"
　　"这没有什么责任，帕迪！你还不明白吗？钱财是会自己关照自己的！从根本用不着去下种或收割，只不过在上几百个人为你照管它就行了。对这份遗嘱起诉吧，帕迪，求求你！我会为你聘请国内最好的律师，必要的话，我会为你在枢密院奋斗到底的。"
　　帕迪突然想到，他的家人一定和他一样关心此事，他便转向了迷惑不角地坐在一条佛罗伦萨大理石凳子上的鲍勃和杰克。"孩子们，你们怎么看？你们想要追回玛丽姑妈的一千三百万镑吗？如果你们想的话，我就打官司，没啥可说的。"
　　"可是，不管怎么样，咱们都可以住在德罗海达，遗嘱上不是这么说的吗？"鲍勃问道。
　　哈里答道："只要你父亲的孙子中有一个人抬着，谁也不能把你们从德罗海达赶走。"
　　"咱们将住在这儿的大宅里，有史密斯太太和姑娘们照顾咱们，还能挣上一笔优厚的工钱，"帕迪说道，好象他宁愿相信坏运气，也很难相信好运气似的。
　　"哪咱们还求什么呢，杰克？"鲍勃问他的弟弟。"你不中意吗？"
　　"我觉得挺中意。"杰克说道。
　　拉尔夫神父不停地走动着。他既没有站下来脱掉追思弥撒的法衣，也没有找把椅子坐一坐。他就象一个黑色而又英俊的术士，孤零零地站在屋子后部的阴影中。两手放在黑十字褡下面，脸上十分平静，他那双冷漠的蓝眼睛的深处，有一种恐惧的、令人震惊的怨恨。他所期待的那种暴怒与蔑视的惩罚根本就没发生，帕迪用友善的金盘子把一切都撒手相送了，并已感谢他为克利里家解除了一个负担。
　　"那菲和梅吉的意见呢？"教士严厉地追问着帕迪。"你还没有想到和你家里的女人们商量一下吧？"
　　"菲？"帕迪焦急地问道。
　　"随你怎么决定吧，帕迪。我无所谓，"菲答道。
　　"梅吉呢？"
　　"我才不想要她的一千三百万镑银币呢。"梅吉说道。她的眼睛紧紧地盯着拉尔夫神父。
　　帕迪向律师转过身去。"那就这样吧，哈里。我们不想对这份遗嘱起诉。让教会把玛丽的钱财拿去吧，欢迎拿去。"
　　哈里两手一击。"该死的，我讨厌看到我们被欺骗！"
　　"我为我的命运而感谢玛丽，"帕迪漫和地说。"要不是她，我还在新西兰勉强混日子呢。"
　　当他们走出了会客室时，帕迪在那些群集在会客室门口的、着了迷的送葬者的睽睽众目下，叫住了拉尔夫神父，向他伸出手去。
　　"神父，别以为我们这方面有任何能以忍受的感情。玛丽一辈子也没让任何人支配过，不管是教士、兄弟、还是丈夫。你把财产从我这里拿走了，她做了她想做的事。你对她太好了，对我们也是，我们永远不会忘记的。"
　　这是问心有愧的。这是一种负担。拉尔夫神父几乎举不动步去握那只骨节嶙峋、锈色斑斑的手，但是，红衣主教的头脑占了上风：他热烈地抓住了那只手，脸上含笑，心里极为痛苦。
　　"谢谢你，帕迪。我会照顾你们，决不会让你们短吃缺用，这一点你尽可放心。"
　　就在那个星期里，他走了，没有再在德罗海达露面。这几天中，他都在收拾他那简单的行李，并且到这个地区每一个有天主教徒家庭的牧场走了一趟，除了德罗海达。
　　在拉尔夫·德·布里克萨特神父成为克卢尼·达克大主教私人秘书的同时，前任威尔士的教士沫特金·托马斯到任，担任基兰博区的教区教士。但是，拉尔夫神父的工作很轻松，他有两个副秘书。他的大部分时间都用于查看玛丽·卡森拥有些什么，数量有多大，并使之集中于教会利益的支配之下。