Dr. Coutras haddelivered sentence of death on many men, and he could never overcome the horrorwith which it filled him. He felt always the furious hatred that must seize aman condemned when he compared himself with the doctor, sane and healthy, whohad the inestimable privilege of life. Strickland looked at him in silence.Nothing of emotion could be seen on his face, disfigured already by theloathsome disease."Do theyknow?" he asked at last, pointing to the persons on the verandah, nowsitting in unusual, unaccountable silence."Thesenatives know the signs so well, " said the doctor. "They were afraidto tell you. "Stricklandstepped to the door and looked out. There must have been something terrible inhis face, for suddenly they all burst out into loud cries and lamentation. Theylifted up their voices and they wept. Strickland did not speak. After lookingat them for a moment, he came back into the room."How longdo you think I can last?""Whoknows? Sometimes the disease continues for twenty years. It is a mercy when itruns its course quickly. "Strickland wentto his easel and looked reflectively at the picture that stood on it."You havehad a long journey. It is fitting that the bearer of important tidings shouldbe rewarded. Take this picture. It means nothing to you now, but it may be thatone day you will be glad to have it. "Dr. Coutrasprotested that he needed no payment for his journey; he had already given backto Ata the hundred-franc note, but Strickland insisted that he should take thepicture. Then together they went out on the verandah. The natives were sobbingviolently. "Be quiet, woman. Dry thy tears, " said Strickland,addressing Ata. "There is no great harm. I shall leave thee very soon."库特拉斯医生曾经对许多人宣判过死刑，但是每一次都无法克服自己内心的恐怖感。他总是想，被宣判死刑的病人一定拿自己同医生比较，看到医生身心健康、享有生活的宝贵权利，一定又气又恨；病人的这种感情每次他都能感觉到。但是思特里克兰德却只是默默无言地看着他，一张已经受这种恶病蹂躏变形的脸丝毫也看不出有任何感情变化。“他们知道吗？”最后，思特里克兰德指着外面的人说；这些人这时静悄悄地坐在露台上，同往日的情景大不相同。“这些本地人对这种病的征象是非常清楚的，”医生说，“只是他们不敢告诉你罢了。”思特里克兰德走到门口，向外面张望了一下。他的脸相一定非常可怕，因为外面的人一下子都哭叫、哀号起来，而且哭声越来越大。思特里克兰德一句话也没说。他愣愣地看了他们一会儿，便转身走回屋子。“你认为我还能活多久？”“谁说得准？有时候染上这种病的人能活二十年，如果早一些死倒是上帝发慈悲呢。”思特里克兰德走到画架前面，沉思地看着放在上面的画。“你到这里来走了很长一段路。带来重要消息的人理应得到报酬。把这幅画拿去吧。现在它对你不算什么，但是将来有一天可能你会高兴有这样一幅画的。”库特拉斯医生谢绝说，他到这儿来不需要报酬，就是那一百法郎他也还给了爱塔。但是思特里克兰德却坚持要他把这幅画拿走。这以后他们俩一起走到外面阳台上。几个本地人仍然在非常哀痛地呜咽着。“别哭了，女人。把眼泪擦干吧，”思特里克兰德对爱塔说。“没有什么大了不起的。我不久就要离开你了。”