我在黑暗中划船，使风一直刮着我的脸，以免划错方向。雨已停止了，只是偶尔一阵阵地洒下来。天很黑，风又冷。我看得见坐在船尾的凯瑟琳，但是看不见桨身入水的地方。桨很长，把柄上没有皮套，时常滑出手去。我往后一扳，一提，往前一靠，碰到了水面，于是一划，往后一扳，尽量轻松地划着。我并不摆平桨面 2，因为我们顺风。我知道我手上会起泡，不过我希望尽可能慢点起泡。船身很轻，划来不吃力。我在黑暗的湖面上划船。我看不见什么，只希望早一点到达巴兰萨的对面。
我们始终没看到巴兰萨。风在湖面上刮着，我们在黑暗中错过了遮蔽巴兰萨的小岬，所以根本没看见巴兰萨的灯火。等我们最后在湖上更朝北而近岸的地方看到灯光时，已是印特拉了。但是未到印特拉以前，我们在黑暗中摸索了许久，既不见灯光又不见岸，只好在黑暗中顺风破浪，不断划桨。有时我的桨碰不到水面，因为有个浪头把船抬高了。湖上浪很大；浪打在上面，激得很高，又退回来。我连忙用力扳右桨，拿左桨倒划，退到湖面上；小岬看不见了，我们继续朝北划。
“我们过了湖了，”我对凯瑟琳说。
“我们不是要先看见巴兰萨吗？”
“我们错过了。”
“你好吧，亲爱的？”
“我好。”
“我来划一会儿吧。”
“不，我能行。”
“可怜的弗格逊，”凯瑟琳说。“今天早晨她上旅馆来，可找不到我们了。”
“这我倒不大操心，”我说。“怕的是在天亮前进入瑞士国境内的湖面时被税警撞见。”
“还远吗？”
“离这儿有三十来公里。”
我整夜划船。到后来我的手疼极了，几乎在桨柄上合不拢来。我们好几次差一点在岸边把船撞破。我让船相当挨近岸走，因为害怕在湖中迷失方向，耽误时间。有时我们那么挨近岸，竟看得见一溜树木、湖滨的公路和后边的高山。雨停了，风赶开云儿，月亮溜了出来；我回头一望，望得见那黑黑的长岬卡斯达诺拉、那白浪翻腾的湖面和湖后边雪峰上的月色。后来云又把月亮遮住，山峰和湖又消失了，不过现在天已比从前亮得多，我们看得见湖岸。岸上的景物看得太清楚了，我连忙又往外扳桨，因为巴兰萨公路上可能有税警，免得他们看到。月亮再出来时，我们看得见湖滨山坡上白色的别墅和一排排树木间所透露出来的白色公路。我时时都在划船。湖面越来越宽了，对湖山脚下有些灯光，那地方该是卢易诺。我望得见湖对岸高山间有个楔形的峡谷，我想那地方准是卢易诺无疑了。倘若猜想得对，那我们的船算划得快的了。我收起桨来，在座位上往后一靠。我划得非常非常疲乏了。我的胳膊、肩膀和背部都发痛，我的手也疼痛。“我可以打着伞，”凯瑟琳说。“我们拿它当帆使吧。”
2 巴兰萨在马焦莱湖上，对着巴罗米岛，是春秋二季游客游玩的地方。
“你会把舵吗？”
“大概行的。”
“你拿这根桨放在胁下，紧挨着船边把舵，我来撑伞。”我走到船尾，教她怎样拿着桨。我提起门房给我的那把大伞，面对船头坐下，把伞撑开。雨伞拍拉一声张开了。伞柄勾住了座位，我双手拉住伞的两边，横跨伞柄坐下。满伞是风，我感觉到船猛然挺进了，便尽力地抓紧伞的两边。风把伞扯得很紧。船冲得好快。
“我们驶得太好了，”凯瑟琳说。我只看得见雨伞的伞骨。雨伞被风绷得紧紧的，直往前拖，我只觉得我们正跟着雨伞在前进。我用两脚死命撑住，拖住了它，猛不防伞被吹弯了；我觉得一条伞骨折断了，打在我的前额上，当我伸手去抓那被风刮歪的伞顶时，它一捩，整个儿翻转过去，本来我是满帆而行的，现在弄得骑着一把完全翻转的破伞的柄了。我把勾在座位下的伞柄解下来，把伞撂在船头上，回到船尾凯瑟琳那儿去拿桨。她正在大笑。她抓住我的手，笑个不停。
“什么事啊？”我接过桨来。
“你抓住那东西太滑稽了。”
“大概是吧。”
“别生气，亲爱的。真滑稽。你看样子有二十英尺宽，非常亲密地抓住了伞的两边——”她笑得喘不过气来。
“我来划船。”
“休息一下，喝一口酒。这真是个良宵，我们已经赶了不少路啦。”“我得不让船陷进大浪间的波谷。”
“我给你倒杯酒来。然后休息一下，亲爱的。”
我举起双桨，我们靠划船前进。凯瑟琳在打开小提包。她把白兰地瓶递给我。我用怀刀挑开瓶塞，喝了一大口。酒味醇厚，热辣辣的，热气透过全身，叫我觉得温暖愉快。“这是很好的白兰地，”我说。月亮又躲在云后边，但是我看得见湖岸。前头好像又有个小岬，深深伸入湖面。“你身体够暖和吗，凯特？”
“我挺好。只是稍为有一点僵硬。”
“把水舀出去，这样你的脚就可以往下伸了。”
随后我再划船，听着桨架声、划水声和船尾座位上白铁罐子的舀水声。
“罐子递给我好吗？”我说。“我想喝口水。”
“罐子脏得很呢。”
“没关系。我来洗一洗。”
我听见凯瑟琳在船边洗罐子的声音。随后她汲满了一罐子水递给我。我喝了白兰地后，口很渴，可是湖水像冰一样冷，冷得叫我牙齿酸痛。我望望岸上。我们离那长岬更近了。前面湖湾上有灯光。
“谢谢，”我说，把白铁罐子递回去。
“何必客气，”凯瑟琳说。“你要这里多的是。”
“你不想吃点东西吗？”
“不。我要等一会儿才会觉得饿。我们到那时候再吃吧。”“好的。”前头那个看起来像是小岬的地方，原来是个又长又高的地岬。我把船朝湖心划得远远才绕了过去。现在湖面狭窄多了。月亮又出来了，倘若湖上税警真在守望的话，一定看得见水面上我们这一条黑糊糊的船。“你好吧，凯特？”我问。
“我很好。我们到哪儿了？”
“照我想，顶多还有八英里路了。”
“划起来路可不少啊，可怜的宝贝。你累死了吧？”
“不。我还行。只是手痛罢了。”
我们继续在湖上朝北划。右岸高山间有一个缺口，成为一条低下去的湖岸线，那地方大概就是坎诺比奥吧。我把船划得离岸远远的，因为从现在起最有碰上税警的危险了。前头对岸有座圆顶的高峰。我疲乏了。划起来距离其实不远，但是人一虚弱就显得远了。我知道我必须过了那座高山，再朝北划五英里才能进入瑞士水域。现在月亮快要下去了，但在落下之前，阴云又遮住了天，成为一片黑暗。我把船划得离岸远远的，划一会，歇一会，抬起双桨，让风刮着桨身。
“我来划一会儿吧，”凯瑟琳说。“我想你不该划。”
“胡说。这对我有好处。划划可以使我的身体不至于太僵硬。”“你不该划，凯特。”
“胡说。适度的划船对于怀孕的妇人很有好处。”
“好，你就适度地划一会儿吧。我先回船尾，你再过来。你过来时双手抓牢船舷。”
我坐在船尾，披上大衣，翻起衣领，看凯瑟琳划船。她划得很好，只是双桨太长，很不顺手。我打开小提包，吃了两块三明治，喝一口白兰地。这一来精神为之一振，我又喝了一口酒。
“你累了就说一声，”我说。过了一会儿，我又说，“当心桨，别撞在肚子上。”
“倘若撞上了，”——凯瑟琳在划桨的间歇间说——“人生就可能简单多了。”
我又呷了一口白兰地。
“你划得怎么样？”
“很好。”
“你要歇时说一声。”
“好。”
我又喝了一口白兰地，然后抓住两边的船舷，走向前去。
“不。我正划得挺好。”
“回到船尾去。我好好休息过了。”
借着白兰地的力量，我轻松而稳定地划了一会儿。随后我开始乱了章法，不是划桨入水过深，便是未入水中，不久我只是乱划一阵，口里涌起淡淡的褐色胆汁味，因为喝了白兰地后划船划得太用力了。
“给我点水喝，行吗？”我说。
“这太方便了，”凯瑟琳说。
天亮前下起毛毛雨来。风不晓得是停了呢，还是因为被弯曲的湖岸边的高山遮住了。我一发觉天快要亮了，就认真地划起船来。我不知道我们到了什么地方，只求进入瑞士水域。天开始亮时，我们相当贴近湖岸。我望得见多岩石的湖岸和树木。
“那是什么？”凯瑟琳说。我歇桨倾听。原来是一艘小汽艇在湖上开的咋咋声。我赶忙划船近岸，静悄悄地伏在那儿。咋咋声越来越近了；我们随即看见那汽艇在雨中行驶着，离我们的船尾不远。汽艇尾部有四名税警，阿尔卑斯山式的帽子拉得低低的，披肩的领头往上翻，背上斜挂着卡宾枪。在这样的大清早，他们看上去都还昏昏欲睡。我看得见他们帽子上的黄色和他们披肩领子上的黄色徽号。汽艇咋咋地开过去，在雨中隐没了。我把船朝湖中划。如果我们离边境很近了，我就不愿让湖滨公路上的哨兵来喝住我们。我把船划到刚刚望得见岸的地方，在雨中划了三刻钟。我们又听见汽艇声，我连忙把船歇下来，一直等到引擎声在湖的那一边消失。
“我们大概已在瑞士了，”凯瑟琳说。
“真的？”
“这也难说，除非我们看到了瑞士的陆军部队。”
“或者瑞士的海军。”
“瑞士海军对我们倒不是好玩的。我们最后一次听到的汽艇声，可能就是瑞士海军。”
“我们如果真的到了瑞士，就来好好地吃一顿早餐吧。瑞士有非常好的面包卷、黄油和果子酱。”
现在天色大亮了，又在下着纷纷细雨。湖的北部还刮着风，我们望得见滔滔白浪正打我们这边翻腾地朝北往湖上卷去。现在我有把握的确到达瑞士了。湖滨树木后边有许多房屋，离岸不远还有一个村子，村子里有些石头房屋，小山上有些别墅，还有一座教堂。我细心张望绕着湖滨的公路，看看有没有卫兵，但没有看到。公路现在离湖很近，我看到一名士兵从路边一家咖啡店走出来。他身穿灰绿色的军装，帽盔像是德国兵的。他长着一张看来很健康的脸，留着一簇牙刷般的小胡子。他望望我们。“对他招招手，”我对凯瑟琳说。她招招手，那士兵怪不好意思地笑笑，也招招手。我放慢了划船的速度。我们正经过村前的滨水地带。“我们一定已深入瑞士境内了，”我说。
“我们得有相当的把握才行，亲爱的。可不要让人家把我们从边境线上押回去。”
“边境线早已过了。这大概是个设有海关的小城。我相信这就是勃里萨哥。”
“会不会同时也驻有意大利军警？在有海关的边城，通常驻有两国的军警。”
“战时可不同。照我想，他们不会让意大利人过边境来的。”那是个相当好看的小城。沿着码头泊着许多渔船，鱼网摊在架子上。虽则下着十一月的细雨，小城看起来还是很愉快干净。
“那我们上岸去吃早点吧？”
“好。”
我用力划左桨，贴近湖岸，当船挨近码头时，我把船打横，靠上码头。我收起桨来，抓住码头上的一个铁圈，脚往湿淋淋的石码头上一踏，算是踏上了瑞士的国土。我绑好船，伸手下去拉凯瑟琳。
“上来吧，凯特。这太愉快了。”
“行李呢？”
“留在船上好啦。”
凯瑟琳走了上来，我们两人都在瑞士了。
“一个多么可爱的国家啊，”她说。
“岂不是挺好吗？”
“我们走，吃早点去！”
“这不是个非常好的国家吗？我脚底下踩的泥土都给我快感。”“我人太僵硬了，脚底下感觉不大灵。但是我觉得这正是个很不错的国家。亲爱的，你是不是体会到我们到了这儿，已经离开了那该死的地方了？”
“我体会到了。我真的体会到了。我从来没有过这种体会。”“瞧瞧那些房屋。这岂不是个很好的广场？那边有个地方我们可以吃早点。”
“你不觉得这雨下得真好吗？意大利从来没有这种雨。这是一种愉快的雨。”
“而我们到这儿了，亲爱的！你可体会到我们到达这儿了？”我们走进咖啡店，在一张干净的木桌边坐下来。我们兴奋得如醉如痴。一位神气十足、模样干净、围着围裙的妇人前来问我们要吃什么。“面包卷、果酱和咖啡，”凯瑟琳说。
“对不起，我们战时没有面包卷。”
“那么面包吧。”
“我可以给你们烤面包。”
“好。”
“我还要几个煎蛋。”
“先生要多少煎蛋？”
“三个。”
“四个吧，亲爱的。”
“四个。”
那妇人走开了。我亲亲凯瑟琳，紧紧地握住她的手。我看她，她看我，我们看看咖啡店。
“亲爱的，亲爱的，这岂不是挺美吗？”
“太好啦，”我说。
“没有面包圈我也不在意，”凯瑟琳说。“我整夜都在想念面包圈。但是我不在意。完全不在意。”
“大概人家快来逮捕我们了。”
“不要紧，亲爱的。我们先吃早点。吃了早点，就不在乎被逮捕了。况且人家也不能拿我们怎么样。我们是英美两国的好公民。”“你有护照，对吧？”
“当然有。哦，这事我们别谈吧。我们只要快乐。”
“我真是再快乐也没有了，”我说。一只胖胖的灰猫，竖起了翎毛似的尾巴，走到我们桌下来，弓身挨在我的腿上，每次擦着我的腿便哼叫一声。我伸手抚摸它。凯瑟琳快快活活地对我笑笑。“咖啡来了，”她说。早点后，人家逮捕了我们。我们先上村子里散了一会步，然后回到码头去拿行李。有名士兵正守着我们的小船。
“这是你们的船吗？”
“是的。”
“你们从哪儿来？”
“从湖上来。”
“那我得请你们跟我一块儿去了。”
“行李怎么办？”
“小提包可以带上。”
我提着小提包，凯瑟琳走在我旁边，士兵在后边押着我们上那古老的海关去。海关里有一名尉官，人很瘦，很有军人气派，他盘问我们。
“你们是什么国籍？”
“美国和英国。”
“护照给我看看。”
我给他我的护照，凯瑟琳从她皮包里掏出她的。
他查验了好久。
“你们为什么这样划着船到瑞士来？”
“我是个运动家，”我说。“划船是我所擅长的运动。我一有机会就划船。”
“你为什么上这儿来？”
“为了冬季运动。我们是游客，我们想玩冬季运动。”
“这儿可不是冬季运动的地方。”
“我们知道。我们要到那有冬季运动的地方去。”
“你们在意大利做什么？”
“我在学建筑。我表妹研究美术。”
“你们为什么离开那边呢？”
“我们想玩冬季运动。现在那边在打仗，没法子学建筑。”“请你们在这里等一等，”尉官说。他拿着我们的护照到里面去。“你真行，亲爱的，”
凯瑟琳说。“你就这样子讲下去好啦。你尽管说你想玩冬季运动。”
“美术的事你知道一些吧？”
“鲁本斯3，”凯瑟琳说。“画的人物又大又胖，”我说。
“提香1，”凯瑟琳说。“提香画上的橙红色头发，”我说。“曼坦那1 怎么样？”“别问我那些难的，”凯瑟琳说。“这画家我倒知道——很苦。”
“很苦，”我说。“许多钉痕2。”“你看，我会给你做个好老婆的，”凯瑟琳说。“我可以跟你的顾客谈美术。”
“他来了，”我说。那瘦削的尉官拿着我们的护照从海关屋子的那一头走过来。
“我得把你们送到洛迦诺去，”他说。“你们可以找部马车，由一名士兵和你们一块儿去。”
“好，”我说。“船呢？”
“船没收了。你们的提包里有什么东西？”
两只提包他都一一检查过，把一夸特瓶装的白兰地擎在手里。“赏光喝一杯吧？”我问。
“不，谢谢，”他挺直身子。“你身上有多少钱？”
“二千五百里拉。”
他听了印象很好。“你表妹呢？”
3 马特龙峰是施特雷沙附近的高峰，有缆车直达山巅，俯瞰七个湖和米兰附近城镇。
1 举桨出水面时把桨面摆平，避免空气的阻力。
1鲁本斯（1577—1640）是佛兰德斯的名画家。
2提香（1477—1576）是意大利文艺复兴盛期威尼斯派最有名的画家。
凯瑟琳有一千二百里拉多一点。尉官很高兴。他对我们的态度不像方才那么傲慢了。
“倘若你想玩冬季运动，”他说。“文根可是个好地方。家父在那儿开了一家上好的旅馆。四季营业。”
“好极了，”我说。“你可否告诉我旅馆的名字？”
“我给你写在一张卡片上吧。”他很有礼貌地把卡片递给我。“士兵将把你们送到洛迦诺。你们的护照由他保管。对于这，我很抱歉，不过手续上非这么办不可。我相信到了洛迦诺，会给你一张签证或者发给你一张警察许可证。”
他把两份护照交给士兵，我们拎着提包到村子里去叫马车。“喂，”尉官叫那士兵道。他用德国土语给士兵讲了些什么。士兵把枪背上，过来替我们拿行李。
“这是个伟大的国家，”我对凯瑟琳说。
“非常实际。”
“非常感谢，”我对尉官说。他挥挥手。
“敬礼！”他说。我们跟着士兵上村子里去。
我们乘马车到洛迦诺，士兵和车夫一同坐在车前座位上。到了洛迦诺，人家待我们还好。他们盘问了我们，可是客客气气，因为我们有护照又有金钱。我们所答的话他们大概全不相信，我觉得全是胡闹，不过倒很像在上法庭。根本不谈什么合理不合理，只要法律上有所根据，那你就坚持下去，不必加以解释。不过我们有护照，又愿意花钱。他们于是给了我们临时签证。这种签证随时可以吊销。我们随便到什么地方，都得向警察局报到一下。我们随便什么地方都可以去吗？是的。我们要上哪儿去呢？“你想到哪儿去，凯特？”
“蒙特勒3。”
“那是个很好的地方，”官员说。“我想你们一定会欢喜那地方的。”
“这儿洛迦诺也很好，”另外一位官员说。“我相信你们一定会喜欢洛迦诺这地方的。洛迦诺是个很吸引人的胜地。”
“我们想找个有冬季运动的地点。”
“蒙特勒没有冬季运动。”
“对不起，”另外一位官员说。“我是蒙特勒人。在蒙特勒-伯尔尼高原铁路沿线当然有冬季运动。你要否认就错啦。”
“我并不否认。我只是说蒙特勒没有冬季运动。”
“我不同意这句话，”另外一位官员说。“我不同意你这句话。”“我坚持我这句话。”
“我不同意你这句话。我本人就曾乘小雪橇4进入蒙特勒的街道。并且不是一次，而是好几次。乘小雪橇当然是一种冬季运动。”另外一位官员转对我。
“请问，先生的冬季运动就是乘小雪橇吗？我告诉你，洛迦诺这地方很舒服。气候有利健康，环境幽美迷人。你一定会很喜欢的。”“这位先生已经表示要到蒙特勒去。”
3曼坦那（1431—1506）为意大利画家，名画有《哀悼基督》。
4 指他在基督的尸体上画出钉十字架的钉痕，极其逼真动人。
“乘小雪橇是怎么回事？”我问。
“你瞧，人家连乘小雪橇都没听见过哩！”
第二位官员听了我的问话，觉得对他很有利。他非常高兴。“小雪橇，”
第一位官员说，“就是平底雪橇1。”“对不起，”另外一位官员摇头说。“我可又得提出不同的意见。平底雪橇和小雪橇大不相同。平底雪橇是在加拿大用平板做成的。小雪橇只是普通的雪车，装上滑板罢了。讲求精确是有相当道理的。”
“我们乘平底雪橇行吗？”我问。
“当然行，”第一位官员说。“你们大可以乘平底雪橇。蒙特勒有上好的加拿大平底雪橇出售。奥克斯兄弟公司就有得卖。他们的平底雪橇是特地进口的。”
第二位官员把头掉开去。“乘平底雪橇，”他说，“得有特制的滑雪道。你无法乘平底雪橇进入蒙特勒的市街。你们现在住在这里什么地方？”“我们还不知道，”我说。“我们刚从勃里萨哥赶车来。车子还停在外边。”
“你们上蒙特勒去，包你没有错儿，”第一位官员说。“那儿的天气又可爱又美丽。离开冬季运动的场地又不远。”
“你们当真要玩冬季运动的话，”第二位官员说，“应当上恩加丁或穆伦去。人家叫你们上蒙特勒去玩冬季运动，我必须提出抗议。”“蒙特勒北面的莱沙峰可以进行各种很好的冬季运动。”蒙特勒的拥护者瞪起眼睛瞧着他的同事。
“长官，”我说，“我们可得走了。我的表妹很疲乏。我们暂定到蒙特勒去吧。”
“恭喜你们，”第一位官员握握我的手。
“你们离开洛迦诺会后悔的，”第二位官员说。“无论如何，你们到了蒙特勒，得向警察局报到。”
“警察局不会有什么麻烦的，”第一位官员安慰我。“那儿的居民非常客气友好。”
“非常感谢你们二位，”我说。“承你们二位的指点，我们十分感激。”
“再会，”凯瑟琳说。“非常感谢你们二位。”
他们鞠躬送我们到门口，那个洛迦诺的拥护者比较冷淡点。我们下了台阶，跨上马车。
“天啊，亲爱的，”凯瑟琳说。“难道我们没法子早点离开吗？”我把那个瑞士官员介绍的旅馆名字告诉了车夫。车夫把马缰绳拉起来。“你忘记陆军了，”凯瑟琳说。那士兵还站在马车边。我给他一张十里拉钞票。“我还没调换瑞士钞票，”我说。他谢谢我，行个礼走了。马车朝旅馆驶去。
“你怎么会挑选蒙特勒呢？”我问凯瑟琳。“你果真想到那儿去吗？”
“我当时第一个想得起来的就是这个地名，”她说。“那地方不错。我们可以在高山上找个地方住。”
“你困吗？”
“我现在就睡着了啊。”
“我们好好睡它一觉吧。可怜的凯特，你熬了又长又苦的一夜。”
“我觉得才有趣呢，”凯瑟琳说。“尤其是当你用伞当帆行驶的时候。”
1 瑞士西南部一疗养城市，位于日内瓦湖东端。
“你体会到我们已经在瑞士了吗？”
“不，我只怕醒来时发现不是真的。”
“我也是。”
“这是真的吧，不是吗，亲爱的？我不是在米兰赶车子上车站给你送行吧？”
“希望不是。”
“别这么说。说来叫我惊慌。那也许就是我们正要去的地方。”
“我现在昏头昏脑，什么都不知道，”我说。
“让我看看你的手。”
我抽出双手。两手都起泡发肿。
“我胁旁可没钉痕2，”我说。
“不要亵渎。”
我非常疲乏，头脑昏昏沉沉。初到时那种兴奋现在都消失了。马车顺着街道走。
“可怜的手，”凯瑟琳说。
“不要碰，”我说。“天知道我们究竟在什么地方。我们上哪儿去啊，车夫？”车夫拉住马。
“上大都会旅馆。难道你不想去吗？”
“要去，”我说。“没事了，凯特。”
“没事了，亲爱的。你别烦恼。我们要好好睡一觉，你明天就不会头昏了。”
“我相当糊涂了，”我说。“今天真像是场滑稽戏。也许是我肚子饿了的关系。”
“你不过是身体疲乏罢了，亲爱的。过些时候就会好的。”马车在旅馆前停下了。有人出来接行李。
“我觉得没事，”我说。我们下车踏上人行道，往旅馆里走。“我知道你会没事的。只是身体疲乏罢了。你好久没有睡觉了。”“我们总算到这儿了。”
“是的，我们真的到这儿了。”
我们跟着提行李的小郎走进旅馆。
2原文为luge，是瑞士供比赛用的一种仰卧滑行的单人小雪橇。
i rowed in the dark keeping the wind in my face. the rain had stopped and only came occasionally in gusts. it was very dark, and the wind was cold. i could see catherine in the stern but i could not see the water where the blades of the oars dipped. the oars were long and there were no leathers to keep them from slipping out. i pulled, raised, leaned forward, found the water, dipped and pulled, rowing as easily as i could. i did not feather the oars because the wind was with us. i knew my hands would blister and i wanted to delay it as long as i could. the boat was light and rowed easily. i pulled it along in the dark water. i could not see, and hoped we would soon come opposite pallanza.
we never saw pallanza. the wind was blowing up the lake and we passed the point that hides pallanza in the dark and never saw the lights. when we finally saw some lights much further up the lake and close to the shore it was intra. but for a long time we did not see any lights, nor did we see the shore but rowed steadily in the dark riding with the waves. sometimes i missed the water with the oars in the dark as a wave lifted the boat. it was quite rough; but i kept on rowing, until suddenly we were close ashore against a point of rock that rose beside us; the waves striking against it, rushing high up, then falling back. i pulled hard on the right oar and backed water with the other and we went out into the lake again; the point was out of sight and we were going on up the lake.
"we're across the lake," i said to catherine.
"weren't we going to see pallanza?"
"we've missed it."
"how are you, darling?"
"i'm fine."
"i could take the oars awhile."
"no, i'm fine."
"poor ferguson," catherine said. "in the morning she'll come to the hotel and find we're gone."
"i'm not worrying so much about that," i said, "as about getting into the swiss part of the lake before it's daylight and the custom guards see us."
"is it a long way?"
"it's some thirty kilometres from here."
i rowed all night. finally my hands were so sore i could hardly close them over the oars. we were nearly smashed up on the shore several times. i kept fairly close to the shore because i was afraid of getting lost on the lake and losing time. sometimes we were so close we could see a row of trees and the road along the shore with the mountains behind. the rain stopped and the wind drove the clouds so that the moon shone through and looking back i could see the long dark point of castagnola and the lake with white-caps and beyond, the moon on the high snow mountains. then the clouds came over the moon again and the mountains and the lake were gone, but it was much lighter than it had been before and we could see the shore. i could see it too clearly and pulled out where they would not see the boat if there were custom guards along the pallanza road. when the moon came out again we could see white villas on the shore on the slopes of the mountain and thewhite road where it showed through the trees. all the time i was rowing.
the lake widened and across it on the shore at the foot of the mountains on the other side we saw a few lights that should be luino. i saw a wedgelike gap between the mountains on the other shore and i thought that must be luino. if it was we were making good time. i pulled in the oars and lay back on the seat. i was very, very tired of rowing. my arms and shoulders and back ached and my hands were sore.
"i could hold the umbrella," catherine said. "we could sail with that with the wind."
"can you steer?"
"i think so."
"you take this oar and hold it under your arm close to the side of the boat and steer and i'll hold the umbrella." i went back to the stern and showed her how to hold the oar. i took the big umbrella the porter had given me and sat facing the bow and opened it. it opened with a clap. i held it on both sides, sitting astride the handle hooked over the seat. the wind was full in it and i felt the boat suck forward while i held as hard as i could to the two edges. it pulled hard. the boat was moving fast.
"we're going beautifully," catherine said. all i could see was umbrella ribs. the umbrella strained and pulled and i felt us driving along with it. i braced my feet and held back on it, then suddenly, it buckled; i felt a rib snap on my forehead, i tried to grab the top that was bending with the wind and the whole thing buckled and went inside out and i was astride the handle of an inside-out, ripped umbrella, where i had been holding a wind-filled pulling sail. i unhooked the handle from the seat, laid the umbrella in the bow and went back to catherine for the oar. she was laughing. she took my hand and kept on laughing.
"what's the matter?" i took the oar.
"you looked so funny holding that thing."
"i suppose so."
"don't be cross, darling. it was awfully funny. you looked about twenty feet broad and very affectionate holding the umbrella by the edges--" she choked.
"i'll row."
"take a rest and a drink. it's a grand night and we've come a long way."
"i have to keep the boat out of the trough of the waves."
"i'll get you a drink. then rest a little while, darling."
i held the oars up and we sailed with them. catherine was opening the bag. she handed me the brandy bottle. i pulled the cork with my pocket-knife and took a long drink. it was smooth and hot and the heat went all through me and i felt warmed and cheerful. "it's lovely brandy," i said. the moon was under again but i could see the shore. there seemed to be another point going out a long way ahead into the lake.
"are you warm enough, cat?"
"i'm splendid. i'm a little stiff."
"bail out that water and you can put your feet down."
then i rowed and listened to the oarlocks and the dip and scrape of the bailing tin under the stern seat.
"would you give me the bailer?" i said. "i want a drink."
"it's awful dirty."
"that's all right. i'll rinse it."
i heard catherine rinsing it over the side. then she handed it to me dipped full of water. i was thirsty after the brandy and the water was icy cold, so cold it made my teeth ache. i looked toward the shore. we were closer to the long point. there were lights in the bay ahead.
"thanks," i said and handed back the tin pail.
"you're ever so welcome," catherine said. "there's much more if you want it."
"don't you want to eat something?"
"no. i'll be hungry in a little while. we'll save it till then."
"all right."
what looked like a point ahead was a long high headland. i went further out in the lake to pass it. the lake was much narrower now. the moon was out again and the guardia di finanza could have seen our boat black on the water if they had been watching.
"how are you, cat?" i asked.
"i'm all right. where are we?"
"i don't think we have more than about eight miles more."
"that's a long way to row, you poor sweet. aren't you dead?"
"no. i'm all right. my hands are sore is all."
we went on up the lake. there was a break in the mountains on the right bank, a flattening-out with a low shore line that i thought must be cannobio. i stayed a long way out because it was from now on that we ran the most danger of meeting guardia. there was a high dome-capped mountain on the other shore a way ahead. i was tired. it was no great distance to row but when you were out of condition it had been a long way. i knew i had to pass that mountain and go up the lake at least five miles further before we would be in swiss water. the moon was almost down now but before it went down the sky clouded over again and it was very dark. i stayed well out in the lake, rowing awhile, then resting and holding the oars so that the wind struck the blades.
"let me row awhile," catherine said.
"i don't think you ought to."
"nonsense. it would be good for me. it would keep me from being too stiff."
"i don't think you should, cat."
"nonsense. rowing in moderation is very good for the pregnant lady."
"all right, you row a little moderately. i'll go back, then you come up. hold on to both gunwales when you come up."
i sat in the stern with my coat on and the collar turned up and watched catherine row. she rowed very well but the oars were too long and bothered her. i opened the bag and ate a couple of sandwiches and took a drink of the brandy. it made everything much better and i took another drink.
"tell me when you're tired," i said. then a little later, "watch out the oar doesn't pop you in the tummy."
"if it did"--catherine said between strokes--"life might be much simpler."
i took another drink of the brandy.
"how are you going?"
"all right."
"tell me when you want to stop."
"all right."
i took another drink of the brandy, then took hold of the two gunwales of the boat and moved forward.
"no. i'm going beautifully."
"go on back to the stern. i've had a grand rest."
for a while, with the brandy, i rowed easily and steadily. then i began to catch crabs and soon i was just chopping along again with a thin brown taste of bile from having rowed too hard after the brandy.
"give me a drink of water, will you?" i said.
"that's easy," catherine said.
before daylight it started to drizzle. the wind was down or we were protected by mountains that bounded the curve the lake had made. when i knew daylight was coming i settled down and rowed hard. i did not know where we were and i wanted to get into the swiss part of the lake. when it was beginning to be daylight we were quite close to the shore. i could see the rocky shore and the trees.
"what's that?" catherine said. i rested on the oars and listened. it was a motor boat chugging out on the lake. i pulled close up to the shore and lay quiet. the chugging came closer; then we saw the motor boat in the rain a little astern of us. there were four guardia di finanza in the stern, their alpini hats pulled down, their cape collars turned up and their carbines slung across their backs. they all looked sleepy so early in the morning. i could see the yellow on their hats and the yellow marks on their cape collars. the motor boat chugged on and out of sight in the rain.
i pulled out into the lake. if we were that close to the border i did not want to be hailed by a sentry along the road. i stayed out where i could just see the shore and rowed on for three quarters of an hour in the rain. we heard a motor boat once more but i kept quiet until the noise of the engine went away across the lake.
"i think we're in switzerland, cat," i said.
"really?"
"there's no way to know until we see swiss troops."
"or the swiss navy."
"the swiss navy's no joke for us. that last motor boat we heard was probably the swiss navy."
"if we're in switzerland let's have a big breakfast. they have wonderful rolls and butter and jam in switzerland."
it was clear daylight now and a fine rain was falling. the wind was still blowing outside up the lake and we could see the tops of the white-caps going away from us and up the lake. i was sure we were in switzerland now. there were many houses back in the trees from the shore and up the shore a way was a village with stone houses, some villas on the hills and a church. i had been looking at the road that skirted the shore for guards but did not see any. the road came quite close to the lake now and i saw a soldier coming out of a caf?on the road. he wore a gray-green uniform and a helmet like the germans. he had a healthy-looking face and a little toothbrush mustache. he looked at us.
"wave to him," i said to catherine. she waved and the soldier smiled embarrassedly and gave a wave of his hand. i eased up rowing. we were passing the waterfront of the village.
"we must be well inside the border," i said.
"we want to be sure, darling. we don't want them to turn us back at the frontier."
"the frontier is a long way back. i think this is the customs town. i'm pretty sure it's brissago."
"won't there be italians there? there are always both sides at a customs town."
"not in war-time. i don't think they let the italians cross the frontier."
it was a nice-looking little town. there were many fishing boats along the quay and nets were spread on racks. there was a fine november rain falling but it looked cheerful and clean even with the rain.
"should we land then and have breakfast?"
"all right."
i pulled hard on the left oar and came in close, then straightened out when we were close to the quay and brought the boat alongside. i pulled in the oars, took hold of an iron ring, stepped up on the wet stone and was in switzerland. i tied the boat and held my hand down to catherine.
"come on up, cat. it's a grand feeling."
"what about the bags?"
"leave them in the boat."
catherine stepped up and we were in switzerland together.
"what a lovely country," she said.
"isn't it grand?"
"let's go and have breakfast!"
"isn't it a grand country? i love the way it feels under my shoes."
"i'm so stiff i can't feel it very well. but it feels like a splendid country. darling, do you realize we're here and out of that bloody place?"
"i do. i really do. i've never realized anything before."
"look at the houses. isn't this a fine square? there's a place we can get breakfast."
"isn't the rain fine? they never had rain like this in italy. it's cheerful rain."
"and we're here, darling! do you realize we're here?"
we went inside the caf?and sat down at a clean wooden table. we were cockeyed excited. a splendid clean-looking woman with an apron came and asked us what we wanted.
"rolls and jam and coffee," catherine said.
"i'm sorry, we haven't any rolls in war-time."
"bread then."
"i can make you some toast."
"all right."
"i want some eggs fried too."
"how many eggs for the gentleman?"
"three."
"take four, darling."
"four eggs."
the woman went away. i kissed catherine and held her hand very tight. we looked at each other and at the caf?
"darling, darling, isn't it lovely?"
"it's grand," i said.
"i don't mind there not being rolls," catherine said. "i thought about them all night. but i don't mind it. i don't mind it at all."
"i suppose pretty soon they will arrest us."
"never mind, darling. we'll have breakfast first. you won't mind being arrested after breakfast. and then there's nothing they can do to us. we're british and american citizens in good standing."
"you have a passport, haven't you?"
"of course. oh let's not talk about it. let's be happy."
"i couldn't be any happiei" i said. a fat gray cat with a tail that lifted like a plume crossed the floor to our table and curved against my leg to purr each time she rubbed. i reached down and stroked her. catherine smiled at me very happily. "here comes the coffee," she said.
they arrested us after breakfast. we took a little walk through the village then went down to the quay to get our bags. a soldier was standing guard over the boat.
"is this your boat?"
"yes."
"where do you come from?"
"up the lake."
"then i have to ask you to come with me."
"how about the bags?"
"you can carry the bags."
i carried the bags and catherine walked beside me and the soldier walked along behind us to the old custom house. in the custom house a lieutenant, very thin and military, questioned us.
"what nationality are you?"
"american and british."
"let me see your passports."
i gave him mine and catherine got hers out of her handbag.
he examined them for a long time.
"why do you enter switzerland this way in a boat?"
"i am a sportsman," i said. "rowing is my great sport. i always row when i get a chance."
"why do you come here?"
"for the winter sport. we are tourists and we want to do the winter sport."
"this is no place for winter sport."
"we know it. we want to go where they have the winter sport."
"what have you been doing in italy?"
"i have been studying architecture. my cousin has been studying art."
"why do you leave there?"
"we want to do the winter sport. with the war going on you cannot study architecture."
"you will please stay where you are," the lieutenant said. he went back into the building with our passports.
"you're splendid, darling," catherine said. "keep on the same track. you want to do the winter sport."
"do you know anything about art?"
"rubens," said catherine.
"large and fat," i said.
"titian," catherine said.
"titian-haired," i said. "how about mantegna?"
"don't ask hard ones," catherine said. "i know him though-- very bitter."
"very bitter," i said. "lots of nail holes."
"you see i'll make you a fine wife," catherine said. "i'll be able to talk art with your customers."
"here he comes," i said. the thin lieutenant came down the length of the custom house, holding our passports.
"i will have to send you into locarno," he said. "you can get a carriage and a soldier will go in with you."
"all right," i said. "what about the boat?"
"the boat is confiscated. what have you in those bags?"
he went all through the two bags and held up the quarterbottle of brandy. "would you join me in a drink?" i asked.
"no thank you." he straightened up. "how much money have you?"
"twenty-five hundred lire."
he was favorably impressed. "how much has your cousin?"
catherine had a little over twelve hundred lire. the lieutenant was pleased. his attitude toward us became less haughty.
"if you are going for winter sports," he said, "wengen is the place. my father has a very fine hotel at wengen. it is open all the time."
"that's splendid," i said. "could you give me the name?"
"i will write it on a card." he handed me the card very politely.
"the soldier will take you into locarno. he will keep your passports. i regret this but it is necessary. i have good hopes they will give you a visa or a police permit at locarno."
he handed the two passports to the soldier and carrying the bags we started into the village to order a carriage. "hi," the lieutenant called to the soldier. he said something in a german dialect to him. the soldier slung his rifle on his back and picked up the bags.
"it's a great country," i said to catherine.
"it's so practical."
"thank you very much," i said to the lieutenant. he waved his hand.
"service!" he said. we followed our guard into the village.
we drove to locarno in a carriage with the soldier sitting on the front seat with the driver. at locarno we did not have a bad time. they questioned us but they were polite because we had passports and money. i do not think they believed a word of the story and i thought it was silly but it was like a law-court. you did not want something reasonable, you wanted something technical and then stuck to it without explanations. but we had passports and we would spend the money. so they gave us provisional visas.
at any time this visa might be withdrawn. we were to report to the police wherever we went.
could we go wherever we wanted? yes. where did we want to go?
"where do you want to go, cat?"
"montreux."
"it is a very nice place," the official said. "i think you will like that place."
"here at locarno is a very nice place," another official said. "i am sure you would like it here very much at locarno. locarno is a very attractive place."
"we would like some place where there is winter sport."
"there is no winter sport at montreux."
"i beg your pardon," the other official said. "i come from montreux. there is very certainly winter sport on the montreux oberland bernois railway. it would be false for you to deny
that."
"i do not deny it. i simply said there is no winter sport at montreux."
"i question that," the other official said. "i question that statement."
"i hold to that statement."
"i question that statement. i myself have _luge-edinto the streets of montreux. i have done it not once but several times. luge-ing is certainly winter sport."
the other official turned to me.
"is luge-ing your idea of winter sport, sir? i tell you you would be very comfortable here in locarno. you would find the climate healthy, you would find the environs attractive. you would like it very much."
"the gentleman has expressed a wish to go to montreux."
"what is luge-ing?" i asked.
"you see he has never even heard of luge-ing!"
that meant a great deal to the second official. he was pleased by that.
"luge-ing," said the first official, "is tobogganing."
"i beg to differ," the other official shook his head. "i must differ again. the toboggan is very different from the luge. the toboggan is constructed in canada of flat laths. the luge is a common sled with runners. accuracy means something."
"couldn't we toboggan?" i asked.
"of course you could toboggan," the first official said. "you could toboggan very well. excellent canadian toboggans are sold in montreux. ochs brothers sell toboggans. they import their own toboggans."
the second official turned away. "tobogganing," he said, "requires a special piste. you could not toboggan into the streets of montreux. where are you stopping here?"
"we don't know," i said. "we just drove in from brissago. the carriage is outside."
"you make no mistake in going to montreux," the first official said. "you will find the climate delightful and beautiful. you will have no distance to go for winter sport."
"if you really want winter sport," the second official said, "you will go to the engadine or to m黵ren. i must protest against your being advised to go to montreux for the winter sport."
"at les avants above montreux there is excellent winter sport of every sort." the champion of montreux glared at his colleague.
"gentlemen," i said, "i am afraid we must go. my cousin is very tired. we will go tentatively to montreux."
"i congratulate you," the first official shook my hand.
"i believe that you will regret leaving locarno," the second official said. "at any rate you will report to the police at montreux."
"there will be no unpleasantness with the police," the first official assured me. "you will find all the inhabitants extremely courteous and friendly."
"thank you both very much," i said. "we appreciate your advice very much."
"good-by," catherine said. "thank you both very much."
they bowed us to the dooi the champion of locarno a little coldly. we went down the steps and into the carriage.
"my god, darling," catherine said. "couldn't we have gotten away any sooner?" i gave the name of a hotel one of the officials had recommended to the driver. he picked up the reins.
"you've forgotten the army," catherine said. the soldier was standing by the carriage. i gave him a ten-lira note. "i have no swiss money yet," i said. he thanked me, saluted and went off. the carriage started and we drove to the hotel.
"how did you happen to pick out montreux?" i asked catherine. "do you really want to go there?"
"it was the first place i could think of," she said. "it's not a bad place. we can find some place up in the mountains."
"are you sleepy?"
"i'm asleep right now."
"we'll get a good sleep. poor cat, you had a long bad night."
"i had a lovely time," catherine said. "especially when you sailed with the umbrella."
"can you realize we're in switzerland?"
"no, i'm afraid i'll wake up and it won't be true."
"i am too."
"it is true, isn't it, darling? i'm not just driving down to the stazione in milan to see you off."
"i hope not."
"don't say that. it frightens me. maybe that's where we're going."
"i'm so groggy i don't know," i said.
"let me see your hands."
i put them out. they were both blistered raw.
"there's no hole in my side," i said.
"don't be sacrilegious."
i felt very tired and vague in the head. the exhilaration was all gone. the carriage was going along the street.
"poor hands," catherine said.
"don't touch them," i said. "by god i don't know where we are. where are we going, driver?" the driver stopped his horse.
"to the hotel metropole. don't you want to go there?"
"yes," i said. "it's all right, cat."
"it's all right, darling. don't be upset. we'll get a good sleep and you won't feel groggy to-morrow."
"i get pretty groggy," i said. "it's like a comic opera to-day. maybe i'm hungry."
"you're just tired, darling. you'll be fine." the carriage pulled up before the hotel. some one came out to take our bags.
"i feel all right," i said. we were down on the pavement going into the hotel.
"i know you'll be all right. you're just tired. you've been up a long time."
"anyhow we're here."
"yes, we're really here."
we followed the boy with the bags into the hotel.