shan't want them after hall?"
"Oh, I don't know. Tea's more important than hall. It stands to reason—well what are you giggling at?—that if we follow a dyke long enough we must come to a pub."
"Why, they use it to water their beer!"
Maurice smote him on the ribs, and for ten minutes they played up amongst the trees, too silly for speech. Pensive again, they stood close together, then hid the bicycle behind dog roses, and started. Clive took his notebook away with him, but it did not survive in any useful form, for the dyke they were following branched.
"We must wade this," he said. "We can't go round or we shall never get anywhere. Maurice, look—we must keep in a bee line south."
"All right."
It did not matter which of them suggested what that day; the other always agreed. Clive took off his shoes and socks and rolled his trousers up. Then he stepped upon the brown surface of the dyke and vanished. He reappeared swimming.
"All that deep!" he spluttered, climbing out. "Maurice, no idea! Had you?"
Maurice cried, "I say, I must bathe properly." He did so, while Clive carried his clothes. The light grew radiant. Presently they came to a farm.
The farmer's wife was inhospitable and ungracious, but they spoke of her afterwards as "absolutely ripping." She did in the end give them tea and allow Clive to dry near her kitchen fire. She "left payment to them," and, when they overpaid her, grum-bled. Nothing checked their spirits. They transmuted every-thing.
"Goodbye, we're greatly obliged," said Clive. "And if any of your men come across the bike: I wish we could describe where we left it better. Anyhow I'll give you my friend's card. Tie it on the bike if they will be so kind, and bring it down to the nearest station. Something of the sort, I don't know. The station master will wire to us."
The station was five miles on. When they reached it the sun was low, and they were not back in Cambridge till after hall. All this last part of the day was perfect. The train, for some un-known reason, was full, and they sat close together, talking quietly under the hubbub, and smiling. When they parted it was in the ordinary way: neither had an impulse to say anything special. The whole day had been ordinary. Yet it had never come before to either of them, nor was it to be repeated.
“我已经误了两堂课了。”莫瑞斯说。他身穿睡衣，正在吃早餐。
“都别上了——只不过是受到禁止外出的处分呗。”
“你愿意坐在摩托车的挎斗里去兜风吗？”
“好的，到远处去吧。”克莱夫边点燃一支香烟边说。“像这样的天气，我可不能老待在剑桥。咱们离开这儿，走得远远的，游泳去吧。一路上，我还可以用功。哎呀，怎么啦？”这时传来了跑上楼梯的脚步声。乔伊•费瑟斯顿豪探进头来，问他们两个人当中的任何一个能不能当天下午跟他一道打网球。莫瑞斯同意了。
“莫瑞斯，干吗同意呀，你这傻瓜？”
“为的是最快地把他打发走。克莱夫，20分钟之内在车库跟我碰头。捎上你那些枯燥的书，把乔伊的风镜也借来。我得换衣服，再带点儿午餐。”
“咱们骑马去如何？”
“太慢啦。”
他们照预先安排的那样碰了头。乔伊的风镜毫不费力地就弄到手了，因为他不在屋里。然而当他们沿着耶稣小径驰行时，学监叫他们停下来。
“霍尔，你不是有课吗？”
“我睡过了头。”莫瑞斯傲慢不恭地大声叫喊。
“霍尔！霍尔！我跟你说话的时候，你得停住。”
霍尔继续驾驶着。“争论下去也没用。”他说。
“一点儿用处也没有。”
摩托车飞也似地跨过桥，奔上通往伊利（译注：伊利是剑桥郡的一座小城镇，常有来自附近剑桥的游客参观游览。位于乌兹河西岸，坐落在冲积扇的岩石“岛”上。现存的大教堂是由诺曼人隐修院院长西米恩创建的。）的公路。莫瑞斯说：“咱们现在该下地狱啦。”发动机的马力很大，他又天性莽撞。摩托车向沼泽地扑去。天空快速地向后退着。他们化为一团尘雾，一股恶臭，俗世的一片噪音，但他们所吸的空气是清新的，他们听到的只有风那快活的长啸。他们对任何人都不关心，他们超然物外。倘若死神降临，他们依然会继续追逐那后退的地平线。圣堂的尘塔，城镇——那就是伊利——被他们撇在后面了。前方还是同样的天空，颜色终于变得淡一些了。“向右转”，再转一次，然后“向左”，“向右”，直到完全失掉方向感。“啪”的一声，接着又“嘎”的一声，莫瑞斯置之不理。两条腿之间发出了像是搅和一千颗石头子般的声音n没出车祸，然而在黑黝黝的一片田野间，马达突然停住了。听到了云雀鸣啭声，长长地拖在他们身后的那溜尘土开始沉降了。除了他们．连个人影都没有。
“咱们吃饭吧。”克莱夫说。
他们坐在长满了草的堤岸I二吃了饭。河水几乎察觉不出地移动着，沿堤栽种的柳树无止无休地在水上投下影子。哪里也看不到制造整个风景的人。吃完饭，克莱夫认为他该用功了。他摊开书本，不出十分钟就睡着了。莫瑞斯在水边躺下来抽烟。出现了一辆农夫的手推车，他有心打听一下他们目前待在哪个郡。然而他没吱声，那个农夫好像也不曾注意到他。克莱夫一觉醒来，已经三点多钟了。他劈头就说：“过一会儿咱们该喝茶了。”
“好的。你会修理那辆该死的摩托车吗？”
“当然会。是不是什么地方发生故障了？”他打了个哈欠，走到车子跟前去。“不，我修理不了。莫瑞斯，你会吗？”⊙⊙文⊙檔⊙共⊙享⊙與⊙在⊙線⊙閱⊙讀⊙
“当然不会。”
他们二人相互贴着脸颊，开怀大笑。他们认为车撞毁了是无比滑稽的事件。况且这还是外公的礼物呢！八月间莫瑞斯将达成人年龄，外公给了他这份贺礼。克莱夫说：“咱们把它撂下，走回去如何？”
“行。谁也不会来捣蛋吧？把大衣什么的都放在车里。乔伊的风镜也放进去。”
“我的书怎么办？”
“也放下吧。”
“饭后我还用得着书吧？”
“唔，这就很难说了。喝茶比吃饭重要，这是合乎常理的——喂，你傻笑什么？——倘若咱们沿着河堤一直走，必然会撞见一家小酒馆。”
“他们把河水兑在啤酒里！”
莫瑞斯朝着克莱夫的侧腹打了一拳。他们在树丛间打闹了十分钟，太荒唐了，连话也顾不得说了。他们重新变得若有所思，紧挨在一起伫立着。随后，将摩托车藏在野蔷薇丛下面以后就启程了。克莱夫随身携带着笔记本，到头来它报废了，因为他们沿堤走着的那条河分成了两叉。
“咱们得蹬水过河。”克莱夫说。“咱们可不能兜圈子，否则就会迷失方向。莫瑞斯，瞧——咱们必须笔直地朝南走。”
“明白啦。”
那一天，不论他们当中的哪一个提出什么建议，都无关紧要，另一个人准同意