My Uncle Jules —— Maupassant

My Uncle Jules —— Maupassant

  A white-haired old man begged us for alms. My companion, Joseph Davranche, gave him five francs. Noticing my surprised look, he said:

  That poor unfortunate reminds me of a story which I shall tell you, the memory of which continually pursues me. Here it is:

  My family, which came originally from Havre, was not rich. We just managed to make both ends meet. My father worked hard, came home late from the office, and earned very little. I had two sisters.

  My mother suffered a good deal from our reduced circumstances, and she often had harsh words for her husband, veiled and sly reproaches. The poor man then made a gesture which used to distress me. He would pass his open hand over his forehead, as if to wipe away perspiration which did not exist, and he would answer nothing. I felt his helpless suffering. We economized on everything, and never would accept an invitation to dinner, so as not to have to return the courtesy. All our provisions were bought at bargain sales. My sisters made their own gowns, and long discussions would arise on the price of a piece of braid worth fifteen centimes a yard. Our meals usually consisted cf soup and beef, prepared with every kind of sauce.

  They say it is wholesome and nourishing, but I should have preferred a change.

  I used to go through terrible scenes on account of lost buttons and torn trousers.

  Every Sunday, dressed in our best, we would take our walk along the breakwater. My father, in a frock coat, high hat and kid gloves, would offer his arm to my mother, decked out and beribboned like a ship on a holiday. My sisters, who were always ready first, would await the signal for leaving; but at the last minute some one always found a spot on my father’s frock coat, and it had to be wiped away quickly with a rag moistened with benzine.

  My father, in his shirt sleeves, his silk hat on his head, would await the completion of the operation, while my mother, putting on her spectacles, and taking off her gloves in order not to spoil them, would make haste.

  Then we set out ceremoniously. My sisters marched on ahead, arm in arm. They were of marriageable age and had to be displayed. I walked on the left of my mother and my father on her right. I remember the pompous air of my poor parents in these Sunday walks, their stern expression, their stiff walk. They moved slowly, with a serious expression, their bodies straight, their legs stiff, as if something of extreme importance depended upon their appearance.

  Every Sunday, when the big steamers were returning from unknown and distant countries, my father would invariably utter the same words:

  ‘What a surprise it would be if Jules were on that one! Eh?’

  My Uncle Jules, my father’s brother, was the only hope of the family, after being its only fear. I had heard about him since childhood, and it seemed to me that I should recognize him immediately, knowing as much about him as I did. I knew every detail of his life up to the day of his departure for America, although this period of his life was spoken of only in hushed tones.

  It seems that he had led a bad life, that is to say, he had squandered a little money, which action, in a poor family, is one of the greatest crimes. With rich people a man who amuses himself only sows his wild oats. He is what is generally called a sport. But among needy families a boy who forces his parents to break into the capital becomes a good- for-nothing, a rascal, a scamp. And this distinction is just, although the action be the same, for consequences alone determine the seriousness of the act.

  Well, Uncle Jules had visibly diminished the inheritance on which my father had counted, after he had swallowed his own to the last penny. Then, according to the custom of the times, he had been shipped off to America on a freighter going from Havre to New York.

  ”Once there, my uncle began to sell something or other, and he soon wrote that he was making a little money and that he soon hoped to be able to indemnify my father for the harm he had done him. This letter caused a profound emotion in the family. Jules, who up to that time had not been worth his salt, suddenly became a good man, a kind-hearted fellow, true and honest like all the Davranches.

  One of the captains told us that he had rented a large shop and was doing an important business.

  Two years later a second letter came, saying: ‘My dear Philippe, I am writing to tell you not to worry about my health, which is excellent. Business is good. I leave to-morrow for a long trip to South America. I may be away for several years without sending you any news. If I shouldn’t write, don’t worry. When my fortune is made I shall return to Havre. I hope that it will not be too long and that we shall all live happily together . . . .’

  This letter became the gospel of the family. It was read on the slightest provocation, and it was shown to everybody.

  For ten years nothing was heard from Uncle Jules; but as time went on my father’s hope grew, and my mother, also, often said:

  ‘When that good Jules is here, our position will be different. There is one who knew how to get along!’

  And every Sunday, while watching the big steamers approaching from the horizon, pouring out a stream of smoke, my father would repeat his eternal question:

  ‘What a surprise it would be if Jules were on that one! Eh?’

  We almost expected to see him waving his handkerchief and crying:

  ‘Hey! Philippe!’

  Thousands of schemes had been planned on the strength of this expected return; we were even to buy a little house with my uncle’s money –a little place in the country near Ingouville. In fact, I wouldn’t swear that my father had not already begun negotiations.

  The elder of my sisters was then twenty-eight, the other twenty-six. They were not yet married, and that was a great grief to every one.

  At last a suitor presented himself for the younger one. He was a clerk, not rich, but honorable. I have always been morally certain that Uncle Jules’ letter, which was shown him one evening, had swept away the young man’s hesitation and definitely decided him.

  He was accepted eagerly, and it was decided that after the wedding the whole family should take a trip to Jersey.

  Jersey is the ideal trip for poor people. It is not far; one crosses a strip of sea in a steamer and lands on foreign soil, as this little island belongs to England. Thus, a Frenchman, with a two hours’ sail, can observe a neighboring people at home and study their customs.

  This trip to Jersey completely absorbed our ideas, was our sole anticipation, the constant thought of our minds.

  At last we left. I see it as plainly as if it had happened yesterday. The boat was getting up steam against the quay at Granville; my father, bewildered, was superintending the loading of our three pieces of baggage; my mother, nervous, had taken the arm of my unmarried sister, who seemed lost since the departure of the other one, like the last chicken of a brood; behind us came the bride and groom, who always stayed behind, a thing that often made me turn round.

  The whistle sounded. We got on board, and the vessel, leaving the breakwater, forged ahead through a sea as flat as a marble table. We watched the coast disappear in the distance, happy and proud, like all who do not travel much.

  My father was swelling out his chest in the breeze, beneath his frock coat, which had that morning been very carefully cleaned; and he spread around him that odor of benzine which always made me recognize Sunday. Suddenly he noticed two elegantly dressed ladies to whom two gentlemen were offering oysters. An old, ragged sailor was opening them with his knife and passing them to the gentlemen, who would then offer them to the ladies. They ate them in a dainty manner, holding the shell on a fine handkerchief and advancing their mouths a little in order not to spot their dresses. Then they would drink the liquid with a rapid little motion and throw the shell overboard.

  My father was probably pleased with this delicate manner of eating oysters on a moving ship. He considered it good form, refined, and, going up to my mother and sisters, he asked:

  ‘Would you like me to offer you some oysters?’

  My mother hesitated on account of the expense, but my two sisters immediately accepted. My mother said in a provoked manner:

  ‘I am afraid that they will hurt my stomach. Offer the children some, but not too much, it would make them sick.’ Then, turning toward me, she added:

  ‘As for Joseph, he doesn’t need any. Boys shouldn’t be spoiled.’

  However, I remained beside my mother, finding this discrimination unjust. I watched my father as he pompously conducted my two sisters and his son-in-law toward the ragged old sailor.

  The two ladies had just left, and my father showed my sisters how to eat them without spilling the liquor. He even tried to give them an example, and seized an oyster. He attempted to imitate the ladies, and immediately spilled all the liquid over his coat. I heard my mother mutter:

  ‘He would do far better to keep quiet.’

  But, suddenly, my father appeared to be worried; he retreated a few steps, stared at his family gathered around the old shell opener, and quickly came toward us. He seemed very pale, with a peculiar look. In a low voice he said to my mother:

  ‘It’s extraordinary how that man opening the oysters looks like Jules.’

  Astonished, my mother asked:

  ‘What Jules?’

  My father continued:

  ‘Why, my brother. If I did not know that he was well off in America, I should think it was he.’

  Bewildered, my mother stammered:

  ‘You are crazy! As long as you know that it is not he, why do you say such foolish things?’

  But my father insisted:

  ‘Go on over and see, Clarisse! I would rather have you see with your own eyes.’

  She arose and walked to her daughters. I, too, was watching the man. He was old, dirty, wrinkled, and did not lift his eyes from his work.

  My mother returned. I noticed that she was trembling. She exclaimed quickly:

  ‘I believe that it is he. Why don’t you ask the captain? But be very careful that we don’t have this rogue on our hands again!’

  My father walked away, but I followed him. I felt strangely moved.

  The captain, a tall, thin man, with blond whiskers, was walking along the bridge with an important air as if he were commanding the Indian mail steamer.

  My father addressed him ceremoniously, and questioned him about his profession, adding many compliments:

  ‘What might be the importance of Jersey? What did it produce? What was the population? The customs? The nature of the soil?’ etc., etc.

  ‘You have there an old shell opener who seems quite interesting. Do you know anything about him?’

  The captain, whom this conversation began to weary, answered dryly:

  ‘He is some old French tramp whom I found last year in America, and I brought him back. It seems that he has some relatives in Havre, but that he doesn’t wish to return to them because he owes them money. His name is Jules–Jules Darmanche or Darvanche or something like that. It seems that he was once rich over there, but you can see what’s left of him now.’

  My father turned ashy pale and muttered, his throat contracted, his eyes haggard.

  ‘Ah! ah! very well, very well. I’m not in the least surprised. Thank you very much, captain.’

  He went away, and the astonished sailor watched him disappear. He returned to my mother so upset that she said to him:

  ‘Sit down; some one will notice that something is the matter.’

  He sank down on a bench and stammered:

  ‘It’s he! It’s he!’

  Then he asked:

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  She answered quickly:

  ‘We must get the children out of the way. Since Joseph knows everything, he can go and get them. We must take good care that our son- in-law doesn’t find out.’

  My father seemed absolutely bewildered. He murmured:

  ‘What a catastrophe!’

  Suddenly growing furious, my mother exclaimed:

  ‘I always thought that that thief never would do anything, and that he would drop down on us again! As if one could expect anything from a Davranche!’

  My father passed his hand over his forehead, as he always did when his wife reproached him. She added:

  ‘Give Joseph some money so that he can pay for the oysters. All that it needed to cap the climax would be to be recognized by that beggar. That would be very pleasant! Let’s get down to the other end of the boat, and take care that that man doesn’t come near us!’

  They gave me five francs and walked away.

  Astonished, my sisters were awaiting their father. I said that mamma had felt a sudden attack of sea-sickness, and I asked the shell opener:

  ‘How much do we owe you, monsieur?’

  I felt like laughing: he was my uncle! He answered:

  ‘Two francs fifty.’

  I held out my five francs and he returned the change. I looked at his hand; it was a poor, wrinkled, sailor’s hand, and I looked at his face, an unhappy old face. I said to myself:

  ‘That is my uncle, the brother of my father, my uncle!’

  I gave him a ten-cent tip. He thanked me:

  ‘God bless you, my young sir!’

  He spoke like a poor man receiving alms. I couldn’t help thinking that he must have begged over there! My sisters looked at me, surprised at my generosity. When I returned the two francs to my father, my mother asked me in surprise:

  ‘Was there three francs’ worth? That is impossible.’

  I answered in a firm voice

  ‘I gave ten cents as a tip.’

  My mother started, and, staring at me, she exclaimed:

  ‘You must be crazy! Give ten cents to that man, to that vagabond–’

  She stopped at a look from my father, who was pointing at his son-in- law. Then everybody was silent.

  Before us, on the distant horizon, a purple shadow seemed to rise out of the sea. It was Jersey.

  As we approached the breakwater a violent desire seized me once more to see my Uncle Jules, to be near him, to say to him something consoling, something tender. But as no one was eating any more oysters, he had disappeared, having probably gone below to the dirty hold which was the home of the poor wretch.

我的叔叔于勒 —— 【法】 莫泊桑

  一个白胡子的老头儿向我们乞求施舍。我的同伴约瑟夫·达佛朗司竟给了他一枚值五法郎的银币。我觉得有点惊奇。他于是对我说：

  这个可怜的人使我想起一段往事，这段往事我一直念念不能忘怀。下面我就讲给您听。

  事情是这样的：

  我的家庭最初住在勒阿弗尔的，是一个并不富裕的人家，只能勉强糊口而已。我的父亲每天都工作到很晚才从办公室回来，但也挣不了多少钱。我还有两个姐姐。

  我的母亲对我们的拮据生活感到非常痛苦，她常常找出一些尖酸刻薄的话，一些含蓄、恶毒的责备话发泄在我的父亲身上。这位可怜的丈夫当时有一个教我伤心的手势。这个可怜人这时候总做出一个手势，叫我看了心里十分难过。他总是张开了手摸一下额头，好像要抹去根本不存在的汗珠，并且总是一句话也不回答，我体会到他那种无可奈何的痛苦。那时家里样样都要节省，有人请吃饭是从来不敢答应的，以免回请，买日用品也是常常买减价的日用品和店铺里铺底的存货。姊姊们的裙袍全是自家缝的，买十五个铜子一米的花边时还常常要在价钱上争论半天。我们日常吃的是肉汤和用各种方式做的牛肉。据说这又卫生又富于营养，不过我还是喜欢吃别的东西。

  我要是丢了钮子或是撕破了裤子，那就要狠狠地挨一顿骂。可是每星期日我们都要衣冠整齐地到防波堤上去散步。我的父亲穿着礼服，戴着礼帽，套着手套，让我母亲挽着胳膊；我的母亲打扮得五颜六色，好像节日悬万国旗的海船。姐姐们总是最先打扮整齐，等待着出发的命令；可是到了最后一刻，总会在一家之主的礼服上发现一块忘记擦掉的污迹，于是赶快用旧布蘸了汽油来把它擦掉。

  于是我的父亲头上就依旧顶着大礼帽，只穿着背心，露着两只衬衫袖管，等着这道手续做完；在这时候，我的母亲架上她的近视眼镜，脱下了手套，免得弄脏它，忙得个不亦乐乎。

  全家很隆重地上路了。姐姐们挽着胳膊走在最前面。她们都已到了结婚的年龄，当时父母们都要教她们在城里露露脸。我靠住母亲的左边，她的右边由父亲护卫。我现在还记得我可怜的双亲在星期日散步时候那种正言厉色、举止庄重、郑重其事的神气。他们挺直了脊梁，伸直了腿，迈着沉着的步伐向前走着，就仿佛他们的态度举止关系着一桩极端重要的大事。

  每逢星期日看见那些从陌生的远地方回来的大海船，父亲始终毫不变更地说着同样的话：“唉！如果于勒就在这条船上，那会多么叫人惊喜呀!”我父亲的弟弟于勒叔叔是全家惟一的希望，而在这以前曾经是全家的祸害。我从小就听家里人谈论这位叔叔，我对他已是那样熟悉，大概一见面就能立刻认出他来。他动身到美洲去以前的生活，连细枝末节我都完全知道，虽然家里人谈起他这一段生活总是压低了声音。

  据说他当初行为很不端正，就是说他曾经挥霍过一些钱财，这在穷人的家庭里是罪恶当中最大的一种。在有钱人的家里，一个人吃喝玩乐无非算是糊涂荒唐。大家笑嘻嘻地称呼他一声花花公子。在生活困难的家庭里，一个人要是逼得父母动老本儿，那他就是一个坏蛋，一个流氓，一个无赖了。

  虽然事情是一样的事情，这样区别开来还是对的，因为行为的好坏，只有结果能够决定。

  总之，于勒叔叔把自己应得的那部分遗产吃得一干二净之后，还大大减少了我父亲所指望的那一部分。

  按照当时的惯例，他被送上一只从勒阿弗尔开往纽约的商船，到美洲去了。

  一到那地方，于勒叔就做了商人，不过什么行业，我们却不知道，并且他不久曾经写信回来，说自己赚了点儿钱，希望能够补偿他从前替我父亲造成的损失。这封信在我的家庭里引起了极大的震动。于勒叔从前有人说他毫无价值，居然一下变成了一个正派人，一个有良心的孩子，一个真正姓达佛朗司的人，纯洁正直得和所有姓达佛朗司的一样。

  此外，有一位船长又告诉我们，说他已租了一所大店铺，做着一桩很大的买卖。

  两年之后，第二封信来了，他说：“我亲爱的菲利普、我写信给你是为了请你不要记挂我，我身体很好。买卖也做得不坏。明天我动身到南美洲去作一次长期旅行。将来也许有好几年没有消息给你。倘若我没有信来，你不必记挂。一到发了财，我一定回勒阿弗尔。现在希望这是一定不会等得太久，并且我们将来一定能够舒舒服服一块儿过活……”

  这封信竟变成了家庭里的《福音书》了。一有机会就要拿出来念，见人就拿出来给他看。

  在十年当中，事实上，于勒叔再也没有消息回来了，不过时间越久，我父亲的希望就越大，后来我母亲也时常说：“将来好心眼儿的于勒回来之后，我们的情况自然不同了。那是一个很能干的人！”

  于是每逢星期日，一看见大轮船向上空喷着蜿蜒如蛇的黑烟，从天边驶过来的时候，我父亲总是重复说他那句永不变更的话：

  “唉!如果于勒就在这条船上，那会多么叫人惊喜呀!”简直就像是马上可以看见他手里挥着手帕叫喊： “喂!菲利普!”

  叔叔回国这桩事十拿九稳，大家盘算过无数的计划：甚至于计划到要用叔叔的钱在安谷韦尔附近去买一所小的乡村别墅。我不敢肯定我的父亲是不是已经就这件事进行过商谈。

  我的大姐那时二十八岁，二姐二十六岁。她们还没有结婚，这是我们全家的另一个郁闷事。

  后来终于有一个看中二姐的人上门来了。是一个机关里的职员，不是富人，但是诚实可靠。我总认为这个年轻人下决心求婚，不再迟疑，完全是因为有一天晚上我们给他看了于勒叔叔的信的缘故。

  我们家赶忙答应了他的请求，并且决定在举行婚礼以后，全家一同到哲尔赛岛去作一次短期的旅行。

  对于穷人，哲尔赛岛是个旅行的理想世界。地方不远，坐着一只海船渡过海峡，便到了外国的土地上，那个小岛是归英国管的。因此，一个法国人经过两小时的航海功夫，就能够看见一个邻国的民族住在他们国内的情形，并且研究一下这个被不列颠国旗覆盖的岛上的风俗，那种风俗真糟糕得如同那些说话率直的人所说的一样。

  哲尔塞岛的旅行成了我们朝思暮想、时时刻刻盼望、等待的一件事了。

  我们终于起程了。我现在还看得见那简直像是昨天的事：轮船在大城码头边生火待发，我父亲慌慌张张地监视着我们那三件行李上船，我母亲不放心地挽着我那未嫁姐姐的胳膊，自从二姐出嫁后，我的大姐就像一窝鸡里剩下的一只小鸡一样有点丢魂失魄；在我们后边是那对新婚夫妇，他们总落在后面，使我常常要回过头去看看。汽笛响了。我们已经上了船，轮船离开了防波堤，在风平浪静，像绿色大理石桌面一样平坦的海上驶向远处。我们看着海岸向后退去，正如那些不常旅行的人们一样，感到快活而骄傲。

  我的父亲高高挺着藏在礼服里面的肚子，这件礼服，家里人在当天早上仔细地擦掉了所有的污迹，此刻在他四周散布着出门日子里必有的汽油味；我一闻到这股气味，就知道星期日到了。

  突然他望见了有两个男搭客正邀请两个时髦的女搭客吃牡蛎。一个衣服褴褛的年老水手拿小刀撬开牡蛎，递给了两位先生，再由他们传给两位太太。她们用一阵优雅的姿态吃起来，一面用一块精美的手帕托起了牡蛎，一面把嘴稍稍向前伸着，免得弄脏了衣服。随后她们用一个很迅速的小动作喝了牡蛎的汁子，就把壳子扔到了海面去。在行驶着的海船上吃牡蛎，这件文雅的事毫无疑问打动了我父亲的心。他认为那是好派头，又文雅，又高尚，于是走到了我母亲和我姊姊们身边，问道：

  “你们要不要我请你们吃牡蛎?”

  我的母亲有点迟疑不决，她怕花钱，但是我的姐姐们却立刻接受了。我母亲用一种阻挠的音调说：

  “我害怕吃了肚子痛。你只请孩子们吃吧，不过别多吃，否则你会弄得她们生病的。”

  随后，她又侧转来，对着我说：

  “至于约瑟夫，他用不着吃；男孩子，别把他惯坏了。”

  就这样，我只好留在我母亲身边，心里觉得这种不同的待遇很不公道。我一直望着我的父亲，看着他郑重其事地带着两个女儿和女婿向那个衣服褴褛的老水手走去。

  先前的那两个女搭客刚刚走开，我父亲就教给姐姐怎样吃才不至于让汁水洒出来，他甚至要吃一个做做样子给她们看。于是就拿起了一个牡蛎来。他刚一试着模仿那两位太太，就立刻把牡蛎的汁水全溅在他的礼服上，于是我听见我的母亲嘟囔着说：

  “哎呀，老老实实待一会儿多好。”

  不过我的父亲突然间好像不安起来；他向旁边走了几步，瞪着眼看着挤在卖牡蛎的身边的女儿女婿，突然他向我们走了回来。他的脸色似乎十分苍白，眼神也跟寻常不一样。他低声向我母亲说：

  “真奇怪!这个卖牡蛎的怎么这样像于勒!”

  我母亲有点莫名其妙，她问：

  “哪一个于勒？”

  我父亲接口道：

  “就是……我的兄弟……倘如果我不知道他现在是在美洲，有很好的地位，我真会相信那就是他。”

  我母亲慌张起来，结结巴巴地说：

  “你疯了！你既然明明知道那不是他，为什么又说这种糊涂话？”

  但是我父亲还是放不下心：

  “你去看看他吧，克拉丽丝，我认为由你亲眼去证明一下要好得多。”

  她站起来去找她两个女儿。我也端详了一下那个人。他又老又脏，满脸都是皱纹，眼睛始终不离开他手里干的活儿。我母亲回来了，我望见她正发抖。她很快地说：

  “我看就是他。你去向船长打听打听消息吧。可要多加小心，别叫这个小子又回来缠上咱们!”

  我的父亲赶紧去了，我这次可跟着他走了。我心里感到异常激动。

  船长是个大高个儿，瘦瘦的，蓄着长长的颊须，他正在驾驶台上散步，那不可一世的神气，就仿佛他指挥的是一艘开往印度的大邮船。

  我父亲客客气气地走近了他的身边，一面恭维一面打听与他职业上有关的事情：

  “哲西岛重要特点是哪些？它的出产？它的人口？它的习惯？它的道德观念？土壤性质等等……”

  不知道内情的人还以为他们谈论的至少是美利坚合众国。

  随后他们谈到了我们所搭的那艘名叫快利的船，随后又谈到了船上的人员，最后我的父亲才有点局促不安地问：

  “您船上有一个卖牡蛎的，看上去倒很有趣。您知道点儿这个人的底细吗?”

  船长最后对这番谈话感到不耐烦了，他冷冷地回答：

  “他是个法国老流浪汉，去年我在美洲碰到他，就把他带回国。据说他在勒阿弗尔还有亲戚，不过他不愿回去找他们，因为他欠着他们钱。他叫于勒，姓达尔芒司或者是达尔汪司，总而言之是一个和这个差不多的姓。听说他在那边曾经一度阔绰过，可是您看他今天落魄到了什么地步。”

  我父亲变得面无人色了，哑着嗓，瞪着眼睛，一个字一个字慢吞吞地说：

  “啊！啊！很好……真好……这倒不教我诧异……我非常感谢您。船长。”

  他说完就走了，而船长困惑不解地望着他走远。他重新回到我母亲身旁，面容变得非常慌张，以至于母亲赶紧对他说：

  “你先坐下吧!别叫他们看出来。”

  他一屁股就坐在长凳上，嘴里结结巴巴地说道：

  “是他，的的确确是他。”

  随后他又问：

  “我们怎么办呢？”

  我母亲马上回答：

  “应该把孩子们领开。约瑟夫既然已经全知道了，就让他去把他们找回来。千万要留心，别叫咱们女婿起疑心。”

  我的父亲好像吓傻了，低声嘟哝着：

  “真是飞来横祸!”

  我母亲突然大发雷霆，她接着说：

  “我早就知道这个贼不会有出息，早晚会再来缠上我们!倒好像一个达夫朗什家里的人还能让人抱什么希望似的!”

  我父亲用手抹了一下额头，正如平常受到太太责备时那样。

  我母亲接着又说：

  “把钱交给约瑟夫，叫他赶快去把牡蛎钱付清。已经够倒霉的了，要是再被这个讨饭的认出来，在这船上可就有热闹看了。咱们到船那头去，注意别叫那人挨近我们”

  她站起来了，他们在给了我一个五法郎的银币之后都走开了。

  我的两个姐姐等着父亲不来，正在纳闷。我说母亲觉得有点儿晕船，随即问那个卖牡蛎的：

  “应该付您多少钱，先生？”

  我真想喊他：“我的叔叔。”

  他回答道：

  “两个半法郎。”

  我拿出了我的五法郎的银币，他找了零钱还我。

  我望着他的手，他那只全是皱纹的水手的脏手，又望着他的脸，那是一张贫困衰老的脸，满面愁容，疲惫不堪，我心里默念道：

  “这是我的叔叔，父亲的兄弟，我的叔叔。”

  我留下了半个法郎给他做小费。他赶紧谢我：

  “上帝保佑您，我尊敬的少爷！”

  说话的声调是穷人接到施舍时的声调。我想他从前在美洲应当是讨过饭的！

  两个姐姐因为我的大度而感到吃惊的望着我。等我把两个法郎交还父亲时，我母亲又诧异起来，她问道：

  “花了三个法郎？……这不可能。”

  我用坚定的口气宣布：

  “我给了半个法郎做小费。”

  我的母亲吓了一跳，瞪着眼睛望着我说：

  “你疯了，拿半个法郎给那个人，那个无赖！……”

  她没有再往下说，因为我的父亲望望女婿对她使了个眼色。

  随后大家都不再说话。

  在我们眼前的水平线上，天边远处仿佛有一片紫色的阴影从海里钻出来。那就是哲尔赛岛了。

  当船靠近堤岸的时候，我心里起了一个强烈的欲望想去再和我的于勒叔见面一次，靠近他，想向他说几句安慰的话，体己的话。

  但是，由于不再有人吃牡蛎，他就消失了，无疑地，这位可怜的人可能下去回到他住的散发臭味的底舱去了。

  后来我们搭了圣马洛号回来，为的是免得和他相遇。我的母亲一肚子心事，愁得了不得。

  此后我再也没见过我父亲的弟弟！

  这就是你会看见我有时候拿出一块值得五法郎的银币施给流浪者的理由。