Next day, April 17, at eight o’clock, the concierge buttonholed the doctor as he was going out. “Some young scallywags ,” he said, “had dumped three dead rats in the hall. They’d obviously been caught in traps with very strong springs, as they were bleeding profusely.” The concierge had lingered in the doorway for quite a while, holding the rats by legs and keeping a sharp eye on the passengers-by, on the off chance that the miscreants would give themselves away by grinning or by some facetious remark. His watch had been in vain. “But I’ll nab them all right,” said M. Michel hopefully.
Much puzzled, Rieus decided to begin his round in the outskirts of the town, were his poorer patients lived. The scavenging in these districts was done late in the morning and, as he drove his car along the straight, dusty streets, he cast glances at the garbage cans aligned along the edge of the sidewalk. In one street alone the doctor counted as many as a dozen rats deposited on the vegetable and other refuse in the cans.
He found his first patient, as asthma case of long standing, in bed, in a room that served as both dining room and bedroom and overlooked the street. The invalid was an old Spaniard with a hard, rugged face. Placed on the coverlet in front of him were two pots containing dried peas. When the doctor entered, the old man was sitting up, bending his neck back, gasping and wheezing in his efforts to recover his breath. His wife brought a bowl of water.
“Well, doctor,” he said, while the injection was being made, “out, have you noticed?”
“The rats, he means,” his wife explained. “The man next door found three!” “They’re coming out, you can see them in all the trash cans. It’s hunger!”
Rieus soon discovered that the rats were the great topic of conversation in that part of the town. After his round on visits he drove home.
“There’s a telegram for you, sir, upstairs,” M. Michel informed him. The doctor asked him if he’d seen anymore rats. “No,” the concierge replied, “there aren’t been any more. I’s keeping a sharp lookout, you know. Those youngsters wouldn’t dare when I’m around.”
The telegram informed Rieus that his mother would be arriving next day. She was going to keep house for her son during his wife’s absence. When the doctor entered his apartment he found the nurse already there. He looked at his wife. She was in a tailor-made suit, and he noticed that she had used rouge.
He smiled to her. “That’s splendid,” he said. “You’re looking very nice.”
A few minutes later he was seeing her into the sleeping-car. She glanced round the compartment. “It’s too expensive for us really. Isn’t it?”
“It had to be done,” Rieus replied. “What’s this story about rats going around?”
“I can’t explain. It certainly is queer, but it’ll pass.
Then hurriedly he begged her to forgive him; he felt he should have looked after her better, he’d been most remiss. When she shook her head, as if to make him stop, he added: “Anyhow, once you’re back everything will be better. We’ll make a fresh start.
换一换
