茵梦湖:十八By The Roadside The Child Stood3

莱因哈德犹豫不决。“不能啊，”他说。
吉卜赛女郎娇笑着用脚尖踢了踢他。
“去！”她说。“你也不中用；你们全都不中用！”
当她转过身去时，莱因哈德已慢慢登上地窖的台阶。
Reinhard hesitated. "I can\'t," he said.
She laughingly gave him a tap with the toe of her shoe and said: "Go away, then, you good-for-nothing; you are one as bad as the other, all good-for-nothings." And as she turned away from him, Reinhard went slowly up the steps of the Ratskeller.

街上暮色苍茫；冬天的寒冷空气使他灼热的额头感到分外凉爽。从这儿那儿的窗户里投射出来圣诞树明亮的光辉，时时还可听见屋子里吹小笛子和小喇叭的声音，其间夹杂着孩子们的欢笑。
Outside in the street deep twilight had set in; he felt the cool winter air blowing on his heated brow. From some window every here and there fell the bright gleam of a Christmas tree all lighted up, now and then was heard from within some room the sound of little pipes and tin trumpets mingled with the merry din of children\'s voices.

成群的流浪儿从一幢房前跑到另一幢房前，要不就爬到台阶的栏杆上去，偷看一下窗户里边那些他们享受不到的美好的一切。有时一扇房门会突然打开，斥骂之声顿时驱赶着这些小小的不速之客，使他们从明亮的房前逃进黑暗的胡同里去。在另一所房子里可能正唱着一支古老的圣诞夜之歌，歌声中分明也有少女清脆的嗓音。
Crowds of beggar children were going from house to house or climbing up on to the railings of the front steps, trying to catch a glimpse through the window of a splendour that was denied to them. Sometimes too a door would suddenly be flung open, and scolding voices would drive a whole swarm of these little visitors away out into the dark street. In the vestibule of yet another house they were singing an old Christmas carol, and little girls\' clear voices were heard among the rest.

莱因哈德却充耳不闻，只匆匆从一条街走到另一条街，眼前的一切全一晃而过。走近宿舍，天已完全黑了；他磕磕绊绊地爬上楼梯，跨进自己的房间。迎面扑来一股甜香，就跟圣诞夜走进母亲布置起来的屋子时一样，立刻在他心中勾起一缕乡情。他手颤抖着点亮灯，一眼瞧见桌上摆着一个大大的包裹，从包裹里滚出来了他十分熟悉的过节吃的棕色姜饼，其中几个上面还用糖汁浇着他名字的头一个字母；除去伊莉莎白，又有谁会这样做呢！
But Reinhard heard not; he passed quickly by them all, out of one street into another. When he reached his lodging it had grown almost quite dark; he stumbled up the stairs and so gained his apartment.

A sweet fragrance greeted him; it reminded him of home; it was the smell of the parlour in his mother\'s house at Christmas time. With trembling hand he lit his lamp; and there lay a mighty parcel on the table. When he opened it, out fell the familiar ginger cakes. On some of them were the initial letters of his name written in sprinkles of sugar; no one but Elisabeth could have done that.