我们步行下楼，不乘电 梯。楼梯上的地毯已经破烂了。晚餐送上来时我已经付了餐费，但那个端菜的侍者这时却守在大门边的椅子上。他跳起身来，鞠了个躬，我就跟着他走进一间小房 间，付清了房钱。旅馆经理还记得我是他的朋友，拒绝我先付钱，不过他走时又记得打发一名侍者守在门口，防我不付帐就溜。我看这种事有过的；连经理的朋友都 靠不住。战争时期朋友实在太多了。
“多谢多谢。一路愉快，“他说。赶车的一拉起缰，马就走了。撑着雨伞的侍者也就转身回旅馆。我们沿街赶车，向左转弯，然后再朝右拐，到了火车站前 面。灯光下站着两名宪兵，站在雨刚刚打不到的地方。灯光映照着他们的帽子。在车站灯光下，雨丝清晰透明。有名搬行李工人从车站的拱廊下走出来，他拱着肩膀 迎着雨。
“坐下吧，上尉先生，“我说。机枪手一让开身，高个子上尉便坐了下去。他望望我。他的脸好像挨了一下似的。不过他座位总算有了。“把我的东西拿下 来。“我对机枪手说。我们走到通廊上。列车满了，我知道再也找不到座位了。我给医院门房和机枪手每人十里拉。他们沿着通廊走去，到了外边月台上，还朝各车 窗内张望，但是找不到座位。“到了布里西亚或许有人下车，“门房说。
“到了布里西亚上来的人更多，“机枪手说。我和他们告别，我们握握手，于是他们走了。他们俩都觉得怪不好意思。在车上，大家都站在通廊上，车子开 了。列车开出站去，我看着车站的灯光和车场。外边还在下雨，不一会，玻璃窗湿了，外面的景物看不见了。后来我睡在通廊的地板上；睡前先把藏着金钱和证件的 皮夹子塞在衬衫和裤子内，使它搁在马裤的裤腿内。我整夜睡觉，到了布里西亚和维罗那，都有更多的人上车，我醒一醒又睡着了。我的头枕着一只野战背包，双手 抱着另一只，同时又摸得着我的背包，所以尽管让人家跨过我的身体，只要不踩着我。通廊地板上到处躺着人。有些人站着，扳住了窗上的铁杆子，或者靠在门上。 这班车子总是拥挤的。
We walked down the stairs instead of taking the elevator. The carpet on the stairs was worn. I had paid for the dinner when it came up and the waiter, who had brought it, was sitting on a chair near the door. He jumped up and bowed and I went with him into the side room and paid the bill for the room. The manager had remembered me as a friend and refused payment in advance but when he retired he had remembered to have the waiter stationed at the door so that I should not get out without paying. I suppose that had happened; even with his friends. One had so many friends in a war.
I asked the waiter to get us a carriage and he took Catherine's package that I was carrying and went out with an umbrella. Outside through the window we saw him crossing the street in the rain. We stood in the side room and looked out the window.
"How do you feel, Cat?"
"I feel hollow and hungry."
"Have you anything to eat?"
"Yes, in my musette."
I saw the carriage coming. It stopped, the horse's head hanging in the rain, and the waiter stepped out, opened his umbrella, and came toward the hotel. We met him at the door and walked out under the umbrella down the wet walk to the carriage at the curb. Water was running in the gutter.
"There is your package on the seat," the waiter said. He stood with the umbrella until we were in and I had tipped him.
"Many thanks. Pleasant journey," he said. The coachman lifted the reins and the horse started. The waiter turned away under the umbrella and went toward the hotel. We drove down the street and turned to the left, then came around to the right in front of the station. There were two carabinieri standing under the light just out of the rain. The light shone on their hats. The rain was clear and transparent against the light from the station. A porter came out from under the shelter of the station, his shoulders up against the rain.
"No," I said. "Thanks. I don't need thee."
He went back under the shelter of the archway. I turned to Catherine. Her face was in the shadow from the hood of the carriage.
"We might as well say good-by."
"I can't go in?"
"Will you tell him the hospital?"
I told the driver the address to drive to. He nodded.
"Good-by," I said. "Take good care of yourself and young Catherine."
"Good-by," I said. I stepped out into the rain and the carriage started. Catherine leaned out and I saw her face in the light. She smiled and waved. The carriage went up the street, Catherine pointed in toward the archway. I looked, there were only the two carabinieri and the archway. I realized she meant for me to get in out of the rain. I went in and stood and watched the carriage turn the corner. Then I started through the station and down the runway to the train.
The porter was on the platform looking for me. I followed him into the train, crowding past people and along the aisle and in through a door to where the machine-gunner sat in the corner of a full compartment. My rucksack and musettes were above his head on the luggage rack. There were many men standing in the corridor and the men in the compartment all looked at us when we came in. There were not enough places in the train and every one was hostile. The machine-gunner stood up for me to sit down. Some one tapped me on the shoulder. I looked around. It was a very tall gaunt captain of artillery with a red scar along his jaw. He had looked through the glass on the corridor and then come in.
"What do you say?" I asked. I had turned and faced him. He was taller than I and his face was very thin under the shadow of his cap-visor and the scar was new and shiny. Every one in the compartment was looking at me.
"You can't do that," he said. "You can't have a soldier save you a place."
"I have done it."
He swallowed and I saw his Adam's apple go up and then down. The machine-gunner stood in front of the place. Other men looked in through the glass. No one in the compartment said anything.
"You have no right to do that. I was here two hours before you came."
"What do you want?"
"So do I."
I watched his face and could feel the whole compartment against me. I did not blame them. He was in the right. But I wanted the seat. Still no one said anything.
Oh, hell, I thought.
"Sit down, Signor Capitano," I said. The machine-gunner moved out of the way and the tall captain sat down. He looked at me. His face seemed hurt. But he had the seat. "Get my things," I said to the machine-gunner. We went out in the corridor. The train was full and I knew there was no chance of a place. I gave the porter and the machine-gunner ten lire apiece. They went down the corridor and outside on the platform looking in the windows but there were no places.
"Maybe some will get off at Brescia," the porter said.
"More will get on at Brescia," said the machine-gunner. I said good-by to them and we shook hands and they left. They both felt badly. Inside the train we were all standing in the corridor when the train started. I watched the lights of the station and the yards as we went out. It was still raining and soon the windows were wet and you could not see out. Later I slept on the floor of the corridor; first putting my pocket-book with my money and papers in it inside my shirt and trousers so that it was inside the leg of my breeches. I slept all night, waking at Brescia and Verona when more men got on the train, but going back to sleep at once. I had my head on one of the musettes and my arms around the other and I could feel the pack and they could all walk over me if they wouldn't step on me. Men were sleeping on the floor all down the corridor. Others stood holding on to the window rods or leaning against the doors. That train was always crowded.