5.3 這是新來 ê 獵場看守

5.3 Che sī sin-lâi ê la̍h-tiûⁿ khàn-siú

Yi khòaⁿ tio̍h chi̍t chiah chang-sek spaniel la̍h-káu ùi lō͘-piⁿ ê sió-lō͘ chǹg chhut-lâi, phīⁿ-á koân-koân teh khòaⁿ in, khin-siaⁿ teh pūi. Chi̍t ê gia̍h chhèng ê lâng khoài-pō͘ tòe tī káu āu-piah, hiòng in kiâⁿ lâi, bē-su boeh lâi kong-ke̍k; sûi tō tòng-tiām, kiâⁿ chi̍t ê lé, oa̍t-thâu kiâⁿ lo̍h-khì. He put-kò sī sin lâi ê la̍h-tiūⁿ khàn-siú*, soah hō͘ Connie kiaⁿ chi̍t-tiô, i ê chhut-hiān ná chhiūⁿ hut-jiân ê ui-hia̍p. Chāi Connie khòaⁿ lâi, i tō ná sī m̄-chai tó-ūi lâi ê hut-jiân chhut-hiān ê ui-hia̍p. [* 看守 = khòaⁿ-kò͘ ê lâng]

Hit lâng chhēng chheⁿ-sek jiông-á saⁿ, pa̍k khia-háng (gaiters, 腳絆)... lāu-sek chong-pān, bīn-sek âng-gê, chhùi-chhiu âng-âng, ba̍k-sek léng-tām. I kín boeh kiâⁿ lo̍h soaⁿ-phiâ.

"Mellors!" Clifford kiò i.

Hit lâng sûi oa̍t-sin, iōng chin kín ê chu-sè, kiâⁿ chi̍t ê kun-lé!

"Lí kā góa ê í-á chia se̍h-thâu, sak hō͘ khí-tōng, hó bô? Án-ne góa khah hó iōng," Clifford kóng.

Hit lâng sûi kā chhèng kòa keng-thâu, kiâⁿ hiòng chêng, tōng-chok kāng-khoán kín-sok koh jiû-nńg, ká-ná bô-ài hō͘ lâng khòaⁿ tio̍h. I sin-châi tiong-téng, sán-sán, bô-ōe. I lóng bô khòaⁿ Clifford, kan-ta khòaⁿ í-á chhia.

"Connie, che sī sin-lâi ê la̍h-tiûⁿ khàn-siú, Mellors. Lí bô kap hu-jîn kóng kòe ōe hoⁿh, Mellors?"

"Iáu-bōe, Sian-siⁿ!" ìn-ōe kín koh léng-tām.

Hit lâng khiā hia chhái bō-á, lō͘-chhut chiap-kìn kim-sek ê cha̍t-cha̍t thâu-mo͘. I ti̍t-ti̍t khòaⁿ-ji̍p Connie ê ba̍k-chiu, piáu-chêng chū-jiân, chāi-táⁿ, koh pêng-tām, ká-ná siūⁿ boeh khòaⁿ chheng yi sī siáⁿ-khoán lâng. I khòaⁿ kah yi pháiⁿ-sè, soah kiàn-siàu lê-thâu. I kā bō-á kau hō͘ tò-chhiú, khin-khin hiòng yi oan-io kiâⁿ-lé, ná sin-sū án-ne; m̄-koh lóng bô kóng-ōe. Chhiú the̍h bō-á, i tiām-tiām thêng-khùn chi̍t ē-á.

"Lí í-keng lâi chi̍t tōaⁿ sî-kan ah, kám m̄-sī?" Connie mn̄g i.

"Peh kò goe̍h, Thài-thài ... Hu-jîn!" i chin tìn-chēng kái-chèng ka-tī ê ōe.

"Lí kah-ì chi̍t ê só͘-chāi bô?"

Yi khòaⁿ-ji̍p i ê ba̍k-chiu. I kā ba̍k-chiu kek bui-bui, ná chò-sńg, ná sáng-sè.

"Ai-ah, sī lah, to-siā, Hu-jîn! Góa sī tī chia tōa-hàn ê..."

I koh sió-khóa oan-io kiâⁿ-lé, oa̍t-sin, kā bō-á tì hó, kiâⁿ kòe hû chhia-á. I ê gí-im kàu āu-piah hit kúi-jī pàng kē, hiàn-chhut pún-tē ōe ê thoa-liân siaⁿ... mā ū khó-lêng sī kek-ōe, in-ūi tú-chiah bô thiaⁿ i kóng he pún-tē khiuⁿ. I ē-sái kóng sī chi̍t ūi sin-sū. Chóng-sī, i chit ê lâng chin sîn-kî, kha-chhiú kín, ū to̍k-li̍p sèng, sui-bóng ko͘-to̍k, tùi ka-tī ū sìn-sim.

Clifford kā motor /mò.tà/ khai-tōng, hit lâng hó-lé-á kā chhia-á se̍h-thâu, oat-hiòng bān-bān lo̍h-khì tō ē oan ji̍p iu-àm chin-bo̍k nâ ê lō͘-sòaⁿ.

"Iáu ū siáⁿ hoan-hù bô, Clifford Sià?" i mn̄g.

"Bô ah, lí siōng-hó tâng-chê lâi, bián-tit chhia-á m̄ tín-tāng. Enjín si̍t-chāi bô-kàu-la̍t thang kiâⁿ soaⁿ-lō͘." Hit lâng sì-bīn khòaⁿ chhōe i ê káu... he sī koan-hoâi ê gán-sîn. La̍h-káu mā khòaⁿ i, khin-khin iô-bóe. Chi̍t ê sió bî-chhiò, phì-siùⁿ a̍h hí-lāng lóng hó, khiok sī un-jiû, chhut-hiān tī i ê ba̍k nih, sûi tō koh bô khì, i ê bīn tō lóng bô piáu-chêng. In chin kín teh lo̍h-kiā, hit lâng chhiú hōaⁿ chhia-á koaiⁿ, hō͘ i ûi-chhî ún-tēng. I khòaⁿ khí-lâi ná sī chū-iû ê kun-jîn, m̄-sī ka-po̍k. I ê bó͘ hāng te̍k-chit hō͘ Connie siūⁿ tio̍h Tommy Dukes.

In lâi kàu chin-bo̍k nâ ê sî, Connie hut-leh cháu khì thâu-chêng, phah-khui ji̍p-khì lîm-hn̂g ê mn̂g. Yi khiā hia hû mn̂g, nn̄g ê cha-po͘ ná ji̍p khì ná khòaⁿ yi, Clifford gán-sîn giām-lē, hit lâng hòⁿ-kî, léng-chēng, siūⁿ boeh kheh-koan liáu-kái yi tàu-té sī siáⁿ khoán lâng. Yi mā khòaⁿ tio̍h i nâ-sek léng-tām ê ba̍k-chiu nih ū chi̍t chióng khó͘-thàng, ko͘-ta̍k ê gán-sîn, khiok ū bó͘ chióng un-loán. Sī án-chóaⁿ i hiah-nī koân, hiah-nī hn̄g?

Kòe mn̂g liáu-āu, Clifford tòng-tiām chhia-á, hit lâng kín-kín oat-tńg, hó-lé-á kā mn̂g koaiⁿ hó.

"Lí ná ē cháu khì khui-mn̂g?" Clifford mn̄g, siaⁿ-im pêng-hô, tìn-chēng, piáu-sī i teh bô hoaⁿ-hí. "He hō͘ Mellors khì chò."

"Góa siūⁿ-kóng án-ne lín ē-tàng it-ti̍t kiâⁿ," Connie kóng.

"Lâu lí tī āu-piah jio̍k?" Clifford kóng.

"Oh, hó lah, ū-sî góa mā kah-ì cháu chi̍t-ē!"

Mellors koh lâi hû chhia-á, ká-ná bô thiaⁿ tio̍h siáⁿ, m̄-koh Connie kám-kak i ta̍k-hāng lóng ū chù-ì tio̍h. I teh sak chhia-á chiūⁿ lîm-hn̂g lûn-á téng ê sî, chhùi khui-khui, sió-khóa teh chhoán. Sū-si̍t i mā bô kóng chin ióng. Sui-jiân ū kiaⁿ-lâng ê oa̍h-la̍t, m̄-koh ū jio̍k-tiám, bô hiah kiông. Yi ê cha-bó͘-lâng pún-lêng kám-siū ē tio̍h che.

Connie chò āu-piah, hō͘ chhia-á seng kiâⁿ. Thiⁿ-sek piàn phú; bū-khì ûi tio̍h ê hit tè sió-sió nâ thiⁿ siau khì ah, ná chhiūⁿ thiⁿ-kòa khàm lo̍h-lâi, piàn kah chin chheⁿ-léng. Tit boeh lo̍h seh ah. Sì-kè phú-phú, lóng phú-phú! Sè-kài ká-ná siān tauh-tauh.

Chhia-á lâi kàu hún-âng lō͘ thâu sio tán. Clifford oa̍t-thâu khòaⁿ Connie lâi--bōe.

"Lí ē thiám bô?" i mn̄g.

"Oh, bē lah!" yi kóng.

Sū-si̍t yi thiám ah. Yi ū chi̍t chióng kî-koài, ià-siān ê kî-thāi, chi̍t chióng put-boán. Clifford bô chù-ì tio̍h: chit chióng tāi-chì i kám-kak bē chhut. M̄-koh hit ê chheⁿ-hūn-lâng chai. Tùi Connie lâi kóng, yi ê sè-kài kap sèⁿ-miā ká-ná ta̍k-hāng lóng hāi khì ah, yi ê put-boán pí hiah-ê soaⁿ-lūn khah lāu.

In lâi kàu chhù, se̍h kàu āu-bóe khì, in-ūi hia bô khám-á. Clifford kā ka-tī ùi í-á chhia hàiⁿ chiūⁿ chhù-lāi iōng ê, khah kē ê lûn-í téng; i ê nn̄g ki chhiú chin ū-la̍t koh liú-lia̍h. Jiân-āu, Connie thè i kā hit nn̄g ki sí-kha pôaⁿ kòe.

--

5.3 這是新來 ê 獵場看守

她看著一隻棕色 spaniel 獵狗 ùi 路邊 ê 小路鑽出來, 鼻仔懸懸 teh 看 in, 輕聲 teh 吠. 一个攑銃 ê 人快步綴 tī 狗後壁, 向 in 行來, 袂輸欲來攻擊; 隨 tō 擋恬, 行一个禮, 越頭行落去. 彼不過是新來 ê 獵場看守*, 煞予 Connie 驚一趒, 伊 ê 出現 ná 像忽然 ê 威脅. 在 Connie 看來, 伊 tō ná 是毋知陀位來 ê 忽然出現 ê 威脅. [* 看守 = khòaⁿ-kò͘ ê lâng]

彼人穿青色絨仔衫, 縛 khia-háng (gaiters, 腳絆)... 老式裝扮, 面色紅牙, 喙鬚紅紅, 目色冷淡. 伊緊欲行落山坪.

"Mellors!" Clifford 叫伊.

彼人隨越身, 用真緊 ê 姿勢, 行一个軍禮!

"你 kā 我 ê 椅仔車 se̍h 頭, 捒予起動, 好無? Án-ne 我較好用," Clifford 講.

彼人隨 kā 銃掛肩頭, 行向前, 動作仝款緊速 koh 柔軟, ká-ná 無愛予人看著. 伊身材中等, 瘦瘦, 無話. 伊攏無看 Clifford, 干焦看椅仔車.

"Connie, 這是新來 ê 獵場看守, Mellors. 你無 kap 夫人講過話 hoⁿh, Mellors?"

"猶未, 先生!" 應話緊 koh 冷淡.

彼人徛遐採帽仔, 露出接近金色 ê cha̍t-cha̍t 頭毛. 伊直直看入 Connie ê 目睭, 表情自然, 在膽, koh 平淡, ká-ná 想欲看清她是啥款人. 伊看 kah 她歹勢, 煞見笑 lê 頭. 伊 kā 帽仔交予倒手, 輕輕向她彎腰行禮, ná 紳士 án-ne; m̄-koh 攏無講話. 手提帽仔, 伊恬恬停睏一下仔.

"你已經來一段時間 ah, 敢毋是?" Connie 問伊.

"八個月, 太太 ... 夫人!" 伊真鎮靜改正家己 ê 話.

"你佮意這个所在無?"

她看入伊 ê 目睭. 伊 kā 目睭激 bui-bui, ná 做耍, ná sáng-sè.

"Ai-ah, 是 lah, 多謝, 夫人! 我是 tī 遮大漢 ê..."

伊 koh 小可彎腰行禮, 越身, kā 帽仔戴好, 行過扶車仔. 伊 ê 語音到後壁彼幾字放低, 現出本地話 ê 拖連聲... mā 有可能是激話, 因為拄才無聽伊講彼本地腔. 伊 ē-sái 講是一位紳士. 總是, 伊這个人真神奇, 跤手緊, 有獨立性, 雖罔孤獨, 對家己有信心.

Clifford kā motor /mò.tà/ 開動, 彼人好禮仔 kā 車仔 se̍h 頭, 斡向慢慢落去 tō 會彎入幽暗榛木林 ê 路線.

"猶有啥吩咐無, Clifford Sià?" 伊問.

"無 ah, 你上好同齊來, 免得車仔毋振動. Enjín 實在無夠力通行山路." 彼人四面看揣伊 ê 狗... 彼是關懷 ê 眼神. 獵狗 mā 看伊, 輕輕搖尾. 一个小微笑, phì-siùⁿ 抑戲弄攏好, 卻是溫柔, 出現 tī 伊 ê 目 nih, 隨 tō koh 無去, 伊 ê 面 tō 攏無表情. In 真緊 teh 落崎, 彼人手扞車仔杆, 予伊維持穩定. 伊看起來 ná 是自由 ê 軍人, 毋是家僕. 伊 ê 某項特質予 Connie 想著 Tommy Dukes.

In 來到榛木林 ê 時, Connie 忽 leh 走去頭前, 拍開入去林園 ê 門. 她徛遐扶門, 兩个查埔 ná 入去 ná 看她, Clifford 眼神嚴厲, 彼人好奇, 冷靜, 想欲客觀了解她到底是啥款人. 她 mā 看著伊藍色冷淡 ê 目睭 nih 有一種苦痛, 孤 ta̍k ê 眼神, 卻有某種溫暖. 是按怎伊 hiah-nī 懸, hiah-nī 遠?

過門了後, Clifford 擋恬車仔, 彼人緊緊斡轉, 好禮仔 kā 門關好.

"你 ná 會走去開門?" Clifford 問, 聲音平和, 鎮靜, 表示伊 teh 無歡喜. "彼予 Mellors 去做."

"我想講 án-ne 恁 ē-tàng 一直行," Connie 講.

"留你 tī 後壁逐?" Clifford 講.

"Oh, 好 lah, 有時我 mā 佮意走一下!"

Mellors koh 來扶車仔, ká-ná 無聽著啥, m̄-koh Connie 感覺伊逐項攏有注意著. 伊 teh 捒車仔上林園崙仔頂 ê 時, 喙開開, 小可 teh 喘. 事實伊 mā 無講真勇. 雖然有驚人 ê 活力, m̄-koh 有弱點, 無 hiah 強. 她 ê 查某人本能感受會著這.

Connie 做後壁, 予車仔先行. 天色變殕; 霧氣圍著 ê 彼塊小小藍天消去 ah, ná 像天蓋崁落來, 變 kah 真青冷. 得欲落雪 ah. 四界殕殕, 攏殕殕! 世界 ká-ná siān tauh-tauh.

車仔來到粉紅路頭相等. Clifford 越頭看 Connie 來未.

"你會忝無?" 伊問.

"Oh, 袂 lah!" 她講.

事實她忝 ah. 她有一種奇怪, 厭 siān ê 期待, 一種不滿. Clifford 無注意著: 這種代誌伊感覺袂出. M̄-koh 彼个青份人知. 對 Connie 來講, 她 ê 世界 kap 性命 ká-ná 逐項攏害去 ah, 她 ê 不滿比 hiah-ê 山崙較老.

In 來到厝, se̍h 到後尾去, 因為遐無坎仔. Clifford kā 家己 ùi 椅仔車幌上厝內用 ê, 較低 ê 輪椅頂; 伊 ê 兩支手真有力 koh 扭掠. 然後, Connie 替伊 kā 彼兩支死跤盤過.

--

5.3

She was watching a brown spaniel that had run out of a side-path, and was looking towards them with lifted nose, making a soft, fluffy bark. A man with a gun strode swiftly, softly out after the dog, facing their way as if about to attack them; then stopped instead, saluted, and was turning downhill. It was only the new game-keeper, but he had frightened Connie, he seemed to emerge with such a swift menace. That was how she had seen him, like the sudden rush of a threat out of nowhere.

He was a man in dark green velveteens and gaiters ... the old style, with a red face and red moustache and distant eyes. He was going quickly downhill.

'Mellors!' called Clifford.

The man faced lightly round, and saluted with a quick little gesture, a soldier!

'Will you turn the chair round and get it started? That makes it easier,' said Clifford.

The man at once slung his gun over his shoulder, and came forward with the same curious swift, yet soft movements, as if keeping invisible. He was moderately tall and lean, and was silent. He did not look at Connie at all, only at the chair.

'Connie, this is the new game-keeper, Mellors. You haven't spoken to her ladyship yet, Mellors?'

'No, Sir!' came the ready, neutral words.

The man lifted his hat as he stood, showing his thick, almost fair hair. He stared straight into Connie's eyes, with a perfect, fearless, impersonal look, as if he wanted to see what she was like. He made her feel shy. She bent her head to him shyly, and he changed his hat to his left hand and made her a slight bow, like a gentleman; but he said nothing at all. He remained for a moment still, with his hat in his hand.

'But you've been here some time, haven't you?' Connie said to him.

'Eight months, Madam ... your Ladyship!' he corrected himself calmly.

'And do you like it?'

She looked him in the eyes. His eyes narrowed a little, with irony, perhaps with impudence.

'Why, yes, thank you, your Ladyship! I was reared here ...'

He gave another slight bow, turned, put his hat on, and strode to take hold of the chair. His voice on the last words had fallen into the heavy broad drag of the dialect ... perhaps also in mockery, because there had been no trace of dialect before. He might almost be a gentleman. Anyhow, he was a curious, quick, separate fellow, alone, but sure of himself.

Clifford started the little engine, the man carefully turned the chair, and set it nose-forwards to the incline that curved gently to the dark hazel thicket.

'Is that all then, Sir Clifford?' asked the man.

'No, you'd better come along in case she sticks. The engine isn't really strong enough for the uphill work.' The man glanced round for his dog ... a thoughtful glance. The spaniel looked at him and faintly moved its tail. A little smile, mocking or teasing her, yet gentle, came into his eyes for a moment, then faded away, and his face was expressionless. They went fairly quickly down the slope, the man with his hand on the rail of the chair, steadying it. He looked like a free soldier rather than a servant. And something about him reminded Connie of Tommy Dukes.

When they came to the hazel grove, Connie suddenly ran forward, and opened the gate into the park. As she stood holding it, the two men looked at her in passing, Clifford critically, the other man with a curious, cool wonder; impersonally wanting to see what she looked like. And she saw in his blue, impersonal eyes a look of suffering and detachment, yet a certain warmth. But why was he so aloof, apart?

Clifford stopped the chair, once through the gate, and the man came quickly, courteously, to close it.

'Why did you run to open?' asked Clifford in his quiet, calm voice, that showed he was displeased. 'Mellors would have done it.'

'I thought you would go straight ahead,' said Connie.

'And leave you to run after us?' said Clifford.

'Oh, well, I like to run sometimes!'

Mellors took the chair again, looking perfectly unheeding, yet Connie felt he noted everything. As he pushed the chair up the steepish rise of the knoll in the park, he breathed rather quickly, through parted lips. He was rather frail really. Curiously full of vitality, but a little frail and quenched. Her woman's instinct sensed it.

Connie fell back, let the chair go on. The day had greyed over; the small blue sky that had poised low on its circular rims of haze was closed in again, the lid was down, there was a raw coldness. It was going to snow. All grey, all grey! The world looked worn out.

The chair waited at the top of the pink path. Clifford looked round for Connie.

'Not tired, are you?' he said.

'Oh, no!' she said.

But she was. A strange, weary yearning, a dissatisfaction had started in her. Clifford did not notice: those were not things he was aware of. But the stranger knew. To Connie, everything in her world and life seemed worn out, and her dissatisfaction was older than the hills.

They came to the house, and around to the back, where there were no steps. Clifford managed to swing himself over on to the low, wheeled house-chair; he was very strong and agile with his arms. Then Connie lifted the burden of his dead legs after him.

--