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The Merry Men-Part19_ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON(1850-1894)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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'Of what are you afraid?' I returned. 'This seems one of the

safest places on this very dangerous road.'



'It makes a noise,' he said, with a simplicity of awe that set my

doubts at rest.



The lad was but a child in intellect; his mind was like his body,

active and swift, but stunted in development; and I began from that



time forth to regard him with a measure of pity, and to listen at

first with indulgence, and at last even with pleasure, to his



disjointed babble.

By about four in the afternoon we had crossed the summit of the



mountain line, said farewell to the westernsunshine, and began to

go down upon the other side, skirting the edge of many ravines and



moving through the shadow of dusky woods. There rose upon all

sides the voice of falling water, not condensed and formidable as



in the gorge of the river, but scattered and sounding gaily and

musically from glen to glen. Here, too, the spirits of my driver



mended, and he began to sing aloud in a falsetto voice, and with a

singular bluntness of musicalperception, never true either to



melody or key, but wandering at will, and yet somehow with an

effect that was natural and pleasing, like that of the of birds.



As the dusk increased, I fell more and more under the spell of this

artless warbling, listening and waiting for some articulate air,



and still disappointed; and when at last I asked him what it was he

sang - 'O,' cried he, 'I am just singing!' Above all, I was taken



with a trick he had of unweariedly repeating the same note at

little intervals; it was not so monotonous as you would think, or,



at least, not disagreeable; and it seemed to breathe a wonderful

contentment with what is, such as we love to fancy in the attitude



of trees, or the quiescence of a pool.

Night had fallen dark before we came out upon a plateau, and drew



up a little after, before a certain lump of superior blackness

which I could only conjecture to be the residencia. Here, my



guide, getting down from the cart, hooted and whistled for a long

time in vain; until at last an old peasant man came towards us from



somewhere in the surrounding dark, carrying a candle in his hand.

By the light of this I was able to perceive a great arched doorway



of a Moorish character: it was closed by iron-studded gates, in one

of the leaves of which Felipe opened a wicket. The peasant carried



off the cart to some out-building; but my guide and I passed

through the wicket, which was closed again behind us; and by the



glimmer of the candle, passed through a court, up a stone stair,

along a section of an open gallery, and up more stairs again, until



we came at last to the door of a great and somewhat bare apartment.

This room, which I understood was to be mine, was pierced by three



windows, lined with some lustrous wood disposed in panels, and

carpeted with the skins of many savage animals. A bright fire



burned in the chimney, and shed abroad a changeful flicker; close

up to the blaze there was drawn a table, laid for supper; and in



the far end a bed stood ready. I was pleased by these

preparations, and said so to Felipe; and he, with the same



simplicity of disposition that I held already remarked in him,

warmly re-echoed my praises. 'A fine room,' he said; 'a very fine



room. And fire, too; fire is good; it melts out the pleasure in

your bones. And the bed,' he continued, carrying over the candle



in that direction - 'see what fine sheets - how soft, how smooth,

smooth;' and he passed his hand again and again over their texture,



and then laid down his head and rubbed his cheeks among them with a

grossness of content that somehow offended me. I took the candle



from his hand (for I feared he would set the bed on fire) and

walked back to the supper-table, where, perceiving a measure of



wine, I poured out a cup and called to him to come and drink of it.

He started to his feet at once and ran to me with a strong



expression of hope; but when he saw the wine, he visibly shuddered.

'Oh, no,' he said, 'not that; that is for you. I hate it.'



'Very well, Senor,' said I; 'then I will drink to your good health,

and to the prosperity of your house and family. Speaking of



which,' I added, after I had drunk, 'shall I not have the pleasure

of laying my salutations in person at the feet of the Senora, your






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