第二百一十七章 马吕斯的五法郎的用途
马吕斯认为他重新回到观察哨所的时候到了。转瞬之间，他以他那年纪的矫捷，已经来到了隔墙的洞口。
他望过去。
容德雷特家的内部呈现出一种奇特的样子，马吕斯于是明白了他刚才看到的那种奇怪的光是怎么来的。在一个已经生了铜绿的烛台上点着一支蜡烛，但真正照亮屋子的是放在壁炉里的一大铁皮炉子里的炭火，那正是容德雷特女人早上准备下的。炭火烧得很旺，炉子也烧得通红，蓝色的火焰在炉里跳跃，正好显现出容德雷特在皮埃尔-隆巴尔街买的那把凿子的形状，它插在炉火中烧。他还看到在靠门的一个角落里，像是为了某种用途准备着的，有两堆东西，一堆像是旧铁堆，另一堆像是绳索。所有这些，要是一个不明就里的人看见了，准会使他的思想在一种非常凶险的想法和一种非常简单的想法之间摇摆。这样照亮的巢穴，与其说像个地狱的入口，不如说像个铁匠铺子，但是在这光线里，容德雷特的样子更像是一头魔鬼而不是一个铁匠。
炉子的热气很大，桌上的蜡烛在靠近炉子的一边熔化了，烛油流了下来。一个古老的铜质暗灯，值得变成卡尔图什的第欧根尼①使用，正放在壁炉台上。
①第欧根尼（Diogène），古希腊哲学家，本故事中曾出现一个叫第欧根尼的流浪汉，这里把容德雷特比作第欧根尼，意为流浪汉加盗贼。
放在壁炉里的炉子，就在几乎熄灭的炭火旁边，把它的火焰送到烟囱里去，没有任何气味。
月亮从窗户的四个方洞里射进来，把它的白光投到这绯红通明的破屋里；对于多愁善感的马吕斯，他即使在行动时也还是在梦想，眼前的景象好似是天上的一种思想混合进了丑恶的梦幻。
从开着的窗户吹进来的一阵风，帮助散去了炭火的气味，并隐蔽了那炉子的存在。
读者如果还记得我们以前谈到过的戈尔博老屋，就会明白，容德雷特的巢穴是那种极其适当的地方，可以用来做一个凶暴、黑暗的罪行的舞台，是巴黎最僻静的林荫大道上最冷僻的房屋里最隐蔽的房间。如果世界上存在着伏击和陷阱，那正是在这种地方。
整座房子的厚度和一大片无人居住的屋子把这间屋子和林荫大道隔开，它唯一的一扇窗户，面对的是被围墙和栅栏围起来的荒地。
容德雷特点起了他的烟斗，坐在那把没有座垫的椅子上，抽起烟来。他的妻子低声和他说着话。
如果马吕斯是古费拉克，也就是说，是那种遇到什么事都会笑的人，他当时一定会笑出来，因为他的目光落在容德雷特女人身上。她头上戴着一顶插了羽毛的黑帽子，有点像查理十世加冕时司仪官的帽子，一件巨大的格子花呢披肩罩在她的线衫裙上，脚上穿着女儿早上不肯穿的那双男人鞋。就是这身打扮引出了容德雷特的叫好声：“好！你穿上了。你做得对。你一定要让人信任！”
至于容德雷特，他还没有脱下那件太白先生送给他的那件太长的全新外套，他的衣着继续保持着那种上衣和裤子的对比，在古费拉克眼里，那正是诗人们所追求的理想。
忽然，容德雷特提高了嗓门说：
“顺便说一句！我想起来了。这种天气，他一定会坐马车来。你去点起灯笼，拿了它下楼去。你待在楼下的大门后面。一听到马车停下来，你就立刻开门，他上楼，你点亮楼梯和走廊，等到他进了这里，你赶紧再下楼去，付给车夫钱，打发他走。”
“钱从哪儿来？”那女人问。
容德雷特把裤子口袋里的东西翻了个遍，掏出五个法郎交给她。
“这是什么？”她喊道。
容德雷特神气十足地说：
“这是邻居今早给我们的那枚大头。”
他接着又说：
“你知道不？这里需要两把椅子。”
“干什么？”
“坐人。”
马吕斯听到容德雷特这样平静地回答，禁不住感到一阵寒噤。
“天哪！我去到邻居家借一把来。”
说罢，她动作迅速地打开那巢穴的门，到走廊里去了。
马吕斯完全没有时间从大橱上下来，跑回床上，藏在床底下。
“把蜡烛拿走。”容德雷特喊道。
“不用，”她说，“拿着它反而碍事，我还要搬两把椅子呢。月光亮着呢。”
马吕斯听见容德雷特女人沉重的手在黑暗中摸索他门上的锁。门打开了。他吓得目瞪口呆，动弹不得。
容德雷特女人进来了。
天窗射进来一道月光，被分割在两块黑影之间。一块黑影把那面墙完全遮住，马吕斯就靠在那墙上，因而他也消失在黑影里。
容德雷特女人抬起头，没有看见马吕斯，拿起马吕斯仅有的两把椅子，走了出去，随手把门重重地带上。
她回到了那巢穴里。
“两把椅子在这儿。”
“灯笼在这儿。你赶快下去吧。”
她赶紧照办，于是只剩下容德雷特一个人了。
他把两把椅子放在桌子的两边，把火钳在炉子里翻转了一下，又把一个旧屏风挪到壁炉前面，遮住炉子，然后走到放着那堆绳子的角落里，弯下腰，好像在检查什么东西。马吕斯这时才认出，他原先以为是乱七八糟的一堆东西，原来是一架做得很好的绳梯，梯子的横档是木制的，还有两个钩子可以用作固定。
这架梯子和几件大工具，都是些真正的铁杠，混杂在堆在门后的那堆旧铁堆里，这些东西，早上在容德雷特家是没有的，显然是在下午马吕斯外出时，他们搬来的。
“这是做刀剪匠人的用具。”马吕斯想道。
如果马吕斯在这方面更有学问一些，他可能就会认出，他认为是做刀剪用具的东西，只不过是几件可以撬锁和破门的工具，另外几件是既能割又能刺的工具，是窃贼们的两大家伙东西，他们管他们叫“小崽”和“镰刀”。
壁炉和两把椅子正对着马吕斯。炉子既已藏起来，唯一照亮这屋子的东西便只有蜡烛了；桌上和壁炉台上的哪怕最小的器皿都投出极大的影子。在那只水罐的投下的影子里，一点烛光照亮了一个极普通的东西。可以使人猜想出那地方是在等待着某种可怕的事情。
容德雷特让他的烟斗熄了，这是思想集中的表现，然后又坐了下来。烛光显出他脸部严峻和狡猾的棱角。他时而皱眉，时而猛然伸出右手，好像是在对他内心暗想的最后的劝告作出回答。在他这样对自己的一种阴暗的回答过程中，他猛地拉开桌子的抽屉，拿出一把藏在里面的长厨刀，在指甲上试了试刀锋。之后，他又把刀放回抽屉里，关上。
马吕斯也把口袋里的手枪掏了出来，扳上了机头。
手枪在他扳动时，发出了一声清脆的咔嚓声。
容德雷特惊了一下，半欠起身子，侧耳听了一会儿，然后笑了笑说：
“我真蠢！是隔板在响。”
马吕斯把手枪紧紧握在手里。
Marius decided that the moment had now arrived when he must resume his
post at his observatory. In a twinkling, and with the agility of his
age, he had reached the hole in the partition.
He looked.
The interior of the Jondrette apartment presented a curious aspect, and
Marius found an explanation of the singular light which he had noticed.
A candle was burning in a candlestick covered with verdigris, but that
was not what really lighted the chamber. The hovel was completely
illuminated, as it were, by the reflection from a rather large
sheet-iron brazier standing in the fireplace, and filled with burning
charcoal, the brazier prepared by the Jondrette woman that morning. The
charcoal was glowing hot and the brazier was red; a blue flame
flickered over it, and helped him to make out the form of the chisel
purchased by Jondrette in the Rue Pierre-Lombard, where it had been
thrust into the brazier to heat. In one corner, near the door, and as
though prepared for some definite use, two heaps were visible, which
appeared to be, the one a heap of old iron, the other a heap of ropes.
All this would have caused the mind of a person who knew nothing of
what was in preparation, to waver between a very sinister and a very
simple idea. The lair thus lighted up more resembled a forge than a
mouth of hell, but Jondrette, in this light, had rather the air of a
demon than of a smith.
The heat of the brazier was so great, that the candle on the table was
melting on the side next the chafing-dish, and was drooping over. An
old dark-lantern of copper, worthy of Diogenes turned Cartouche, stood
on the chimney-piece.
The brazier, placed in the fireplace itself, beside the nearly extinct
brands, sent its vapors up the chimney, and gave out no odor.
The moon, entering through the four panes of the window, cast its
whiteness into the crimson and flaming garret; and to the poetic spirit
of Marius, who was dreamy even in the moment of action, it was like a
thought of heaven mingled with the misshapen reveries of earth.
A breath of air which made its way in through the open pane, helped to
dissipate the smell of the charcoal and to conceal the presence of the
brazier.
The Jondrette lair was, if the reader recalls what we have said of the
Gorbeau building, admirably chosen to serve as the theatre of a violent
and sombre deed, and as the envelope for a crime. It was the most
retired chamber in the most isolated house on the most deserted
boulevard in Paris. If the system of ambush and traps had not already
existed, they would have been invented there.
The whole thickness of a house and a multitude of uninhabited rooms
separated this den from the boulevard, and the only window that existed
opened on waste lands enclosed with walls and palisades.
Jondrette had lighted his pipe, seated himself on the seatless chair,
and was engaged in smoking. His wife was talking to him in a low tone.
If Marius had been Courfeyrac, that is to say, one of those men who
laugh on every occasion in life, he would have burst with laughter when
his gaze fell on the Jondrette woman. She had on a black bonnet with
plumes not unlike the hats of the heralds-at-arms at the coronation of
Charles X., an immense tartan shawl over her knitted petticoat, and the
man’s shoes which her daughter had scorned in the morning. It was this
toilette which had extracted from Jondrette the exclamation: “Good! You
have dressed up. You have done well. You must inspire confidence!”
