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diff --git a/451-h/451-h.htm b/451-h/451-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..85d9653 --- /dev/null +++ b/451-h/451-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5751 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Shadow-Line, by Joseph Conrad + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shadow-Line, by Joseph Conrad + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Shadow-Line + A Confession + +Author: Joseph Conrad + +Release Date: January 9, 2006 [EBook #451] +Last Updated: September 9, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHADOW-LINE *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE SHADOW-LINE + </h1> + <h2> + A CONFESSION + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Joseph Conrad + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + “Worthy of my undying regard” + </h3> + <p> + To Borys And All Others Who,<br /> Like Himself, Have Crossed In Early + Youth<br /> The Shadow-Line Of Their Generation With Love<br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + —<i>D’autre fois, calme plat, grand miroir De mon desespoir</i>. + —BAUDELAIRE + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> PART ONE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> PART TWO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VI </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + PART ONE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + Only the young have such moments. I don’t mean the very young. No. The + very young have, properly speaking, no moments. It is the privilege of + early youth to live in advance of its days in all the beautiful continuity + of hope which knows no pauses and no introspection. + </p> + <p> + One closes behind one the little gate of mere boyishness—and enters + an enchanted garden. Its very shades glow with promise. Every turn of the + path has its seduction. And it isn’t because it is an undiscovered + country. One knows well enough that all mankind had streamed that way. It + is the charm of universal experience from which one expects an uncommon or + personal sensation—a bit of one’s own. + </p> + <p> + One goes on recognizing the landmarks of the predecessors, excited, + amused, taking the hard luck and the good luck together—the kicks + and the half-pence, as the saying is—the picturesque common lot that + holds so many possibilities for the deserving or perhaps for the lucky. + Yes. One goes on. And the time, too, goes on—till one perceives + ahead a shadow-line warning one that the region of early youth, too, must + be left behind. + </p> + <p> + This is the period of life in which such moments of which I have spoken + are likely to come. What moments? Why, the moments of boredom, of + weariness, of dissatisfaction. Rash moments. I mean moments when the still + young are inclined to commit rash actions, such as getting married + suddenly or else throwing up a job for no reason. + </p> + <p> + This is not a marriage story. It wasn’t so bad as that with me. My action, + rash as it was, had more the character of divorce—almost of + desertion. For no reason on which a sensible person could put a finger I + threw up my job—chucked my berth—left the ship of which the + worst that could be said was that she was a steamship and therefore, + perhaps, not entitled to that blind loyalty which. . . . However, it’s no + use trying to put a gloss on what even at the time I myself half suspected + to be a caprice. + </p> + <p> + It was in an Eastern port. She was an Eastern ship, inasmuch as then she + belonged to that port. She traded among dark islands on a blue + reef-scarred sea, with the Red Ensign over the taffrail and at her + masthead a house-flag, also red, but with a green border and with a white + crescent in it. For an Arab owned her, and a Syed at that. Hence the green + border on the flag. He was the head of a great House of Straits Arabs, but + as loyal a subject of the complex British Empire as you could find east of + the Suez Canal. World politics did not trouble him at all, but he had a + great occult power amongst his own people. + </p> + <p> + It was all one to us who owned the ship. He had to employ white men in the + shipping part of his business, and many of those he so employed had never + set eyes on him from the first to the last day. I myself saw him but once, + quite accidentally on a wharf—an old, dark little man blind in one + eye, in a snowy robe and yellow slippers. He was having his hand severely + kissed by a crowd of Malay pilgrims to whom he had done some favour, in + the way of food and money. His alms-giving, I have heard, was most + extensive, covering almost the whole Archipelago. For isn’t it said that + “The charitable man is the friend of Allah”? + </p> + <p> + Excellent (and picturesque) Arab owner, about whom one needed not to + trouble one’s head, a most excellent Scottish ship—for she was that + from the keep up—excellent sea-boat, easy to keep clean, most handy + in every way, and if it had not been for her internal propulsion, worthy + of any man’s love, I cherish to this day a profound respect for her + memory. As to the kind of trade she was engaged in and the character of my + shipmates, I could not have been happier if I had had the life and the men + made to my order by a benevolent Enchanter. + </p> + <p> + And suddenly I left all this. I left it in that, to us, inconsequential + manner in which a bird flies away from a comfortable branch. It was as + though all unknowing I had heard a whisper or seen something. Well—perhaps! + One day I was perfectly right and the next everything was gone—glamour, + flavour, interest, contentment—everything. It was one of these + moments, you know. The green sickness of late youth descended on me and + carried me off. Carried me off that ship, I mean. + </p> + <p> + We were only four white men on board, with a large crew of Kalashes and + two Malay petty officers. The Captain stared hard as if wondering what + ailed me. But he was a sailor, and he, too, had been young at one time. + Presently a smile came to lurk under his thick iron-gray moustache, and he + observed that, of course, if I felt I must go he couldn’t keep me by main + force. And it was arranged that I should be paid off the next morning. As + I was going out of his cabin he added suddenly, in a peculiar wistful + tone, that he hoped I would find what I was so anxious to go and look for. + A soft, cryptic utterance which seemed to reach deeper than any + diamond-hard tool could have done. I do believe he understood my case. + </p> + <p> + But the second engineer attacked me differently. He was a sturdy young + Scot, with a smooth face and light eyes. His honest red countenance + emerged out of the engine-room companion and then the whole robust man, + with shirt sleeves turned up, wiping slowly the massive fore-arms with a + lump of cotton-waste. And his light eyes expressed bitter distaste, as + though our friendship had turned to ashes. He said weightily: “Oh! Aye! + I’ve been thinking it was about time for you to run away home and get + married to some silly girl.” + </p> + <p> + It was tacitly understood in the port that John Nieven was a fierce + misogynist; and the absurd character of the sally convinced me that he + meant to be nasty—very nasty—had meant to say the most + crushing thing he could think of. My laugh sounded deprecatory. Nobody but + a friend could be so angry as that. I became a little crestfallen. Our + chief engineer also took a characteristic view of my action, but in a + kindlier spirit. + </p> + <p> + He was young, too, but very thin, and with a mist of fluffy brown beard + all round his haggard face. All day long, at sea or in harbour, he could + be seen walking hastily up and down the after-deck, wearing an intense, + spiritually rapt expression, which was caused by a perpetual consciousness + of unpleasant physical sensations in his internal economy. For he was a + confirmed dyspeptic. His view of my case was very simple. He said it was + nothing but deranged liver. Of course! He suggested I should stay for + another trip and meantime dose myself with a certain patent medicine in + which his own belief was absolute. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll buy + you two bottles, out of my own pocket. There. I can’t say fairer than + that, can I?” + </p> + <p> + I believe he would have perpetrated the atrocity (or generosity) at the + merest sign of weakening on my part. By that time, however, I was more + discontented, disgusted, and dogged than ever. The past eighteen months, + so full of new and varied experience, appeared a dreary, prosaic waste of + days. I felt—how shall I express it?—that there was no truth + to be got out of them. + </p> + <p> + What truth? I should have been hard put to it to explain. Probably, if + pressed, I would have burst into tears simply. I was young enough for + that. + </p> + <p> + Next day the Captain and I transacted our business in the Harbour Office. + It was a lofty, big, cool, white room, where the screened light of day + glowed serenely. Everybody in it—the officials, the public—were + in white. Only the heavy polished desks gleamed darkly in a central + avenue, and some papers lying on them were blue. Enormous punkahs sent + from on high a gentle draught through that immaculate interior and upon + our perspiring heads. + </p> + <p> + The official behind the desk we approached grinned amiably and kept it up + till, in answer to his perfunctory question, “Sign off and on again?” my + Captain answered, “No! Signing off for good.” And then his grin vanished + in sudden solemnity. He did not look at me again till he handed me my + papers with a sorrowful expression, as if they had been my passports for + Hades. + </p> + <p> + While I was putting them away he murmured some question to the Captain, + and I heard the latter answer good-humouredly: + </p> + <p> + “No. He leaves us to go home.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” the other exclaimed, nodding mournfully over my sad condition. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t know him outside the official building, but he leaned forward the + desk to shake hands with me, compassionately, as one would with some poor + devil going out to be hanged; and I am afraid I performed my part + ungraciously, in the hardened manner of an impenitent criminal. + </p> + <p> + No homeward-bound mail-boat was due for three or four days. Being now a + man without a ship, and having for a time broken my connection with the + sea—become, in fact, a mere potential passenger—it would have + been more appropriate perhaps if I had gone to stay at an hotel. There it + was, too, within a stone’s throw of the Harbour Office, low, but somehow + palatial, displaying its white, pillared pavilions surrounded by trim + grass plots. I would have felt a passenger indeed in there! I gave it a + hostile glance and directed my steps toward the Officers’ Sailors’ Home. + </p> + <p> + I walked in the sunshine, disregarding it, and in the shade of the big + trees on the esplanade without enjoying it. The heat of the tropical East + descended through the leafy boughs, enveloping my thinly-clad body, + clinging to my rebellious discontent, as if to rob it of its freedom. + </p> + <p> + The Officers’ Home was a large bungalow with a wide verandah and a + curiously suburban-looking little garden of bushes and a few trees between + it and the street. That institution partook somewhat of the character of a + residential club, but with a slightly Governmental flavour about it, + because it was administered by the Harbour Office. Its manager was + officially styled Chief Steward. He was an unhappy, wizened little man, + who if put into a jockey’s rig would have looked the part to perfection. + But it was obvious that at some time or other in his life, in some + capacity or other, he had been connected with the sea. Possibly in the + comprehensive capacity of a failure. + </p> + <p> + I should have thought his employment a very easy one, but he used to + affirm for some reason or other that his job would be the death of him + some day. It was rather mysterious. Perhaps everything naturally was too + much trouble for him. He certainly seemed to hate having people in the + house. + </p> + <p> + On entering it I thought he must be feeling pleased. It was as still as a + tomb. I could see no one in the living rooms; and the verandah, too, was + empty, except for a man at the far end dozing prone in a long chair. At + the noise of my footsteps he opened one horribly fish-like eye. He was a + stranger to me. I retreated from there, and crossing the dining room—a + very bare apartment with a motionless punkah hanging over the centre table—I + knocked at a door labelled in black letters: “Chief Steward.” + </p> + <p> + The answer to my knock being a vexed and doleful plaint: “Oh, dear! Oh, + dear! What is it now?” I went in at once. + </p> + <p> + It was a strange room to find in the tropics. Twilight and stuffiness + reigned in there. The fellow had hung enormously ample, dusty, cheap lace + curtains over his windows, which were shut. Piles of cardboard boxes, such + as milliners and dressmakers use in Europe, cumbered the corners; and by + some means he had procured for himself the sort of furniture that might + have come out of a respectable parlour in the East End of London—a + horsehair sofa, arm-chairs of the same. I glimpsed grimy antimacassars + scattered over that horrid upholstery, which was awe-inspiring, insomuch + that one could not guess what mysterious accident, need, or fancy had + collected it there. Its owner had taken off his tunic, and in white + trousers and a thin, short-sleeved singlet prowled behind the chair-backs + nursing his meagre elbows. + </p> + <p> + An exclamation of dismay escaped him when he heard that I had come for a + stay; but he could not deny that there were plenty of vacant rooms. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Can you give me the one I had before?” + </p> + <p> + He emitted a faint moan from behind a pile of cardboard boxes on the + table, which might have contained gloves or handkerchiefs or neckties. I + wonder what the fellow did keep in them? There was a smell of decaying + coral, or Oriental dust of zoological speciments in that den of his. I + could only see the top of his head and his unhappy eyes levelled at me + over the barrier. + </p> + <p> + “It’s only for a couple of days,” I said, intending to cheer him up. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you would like to pay in advance?” he suggested eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not!” I burst out directly I could speak. “Never heard of such + a thing! This is the most infernal cheek. . . .” + </p> + <p> + He had seized his head in both hands—a gesture of despair which + checked my indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Don’t fly out like this. I am asking everybody.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it,” I said bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am going to. And if you gentlemen all agreed to pay in advance I + could make Hamilton pay up, too. He’s always turning up ashore dead broke, + and even when he has some money he won’t settle his bills. I don’t know + what to do with him. He swears at me and tells me I can’t chuck a white + man out into the street here. So if you only would. . . .” + </p> + <p> + I was amazed. Incredulous, too. I suspected the fellow of gratuitous + impertinence. I told him with marked emphasis that I would see him and + Hamilton hanged first, and requested him to conduct me to my room with no + more of his nonsense. He produced then a key from somewhere and led the + way out of his lair, giving me a vicious sidelong look in passing. + </p> + <p> + “Any one I know staying here?” I asked him before he left my room. + </p> + <p> + He had recovered his usual pained impatient tone, and said that Captain + Giles was there, back from a Solo Sea trip. Two other guests were staying + also. He paused. And, of course, Hamilton, he added. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! Hamilton,” I said, and the miserable creature took himself off + with a final groan. + </p> + <p> + His impudence still rankled when I came into the dining room at tiffin + time. He was there on duty overlooking the Chinamen servants. The tiffin + was laid on one end only of the long table, and the punkah was stirring + the hot air lazily—mostly above a barren waste of polished wood. + </p> + <p> + We were four around the cloth. The dozing stranger from the chair was one. + Both his eyes were partly opened now, but they did not seem to see + anything. He was supine. The dignified person next him, with short side + whiskers and a carefully scraped chin, was, of course, Hamilton. I have + never seen any one so full of dignity for the station in life Providence + had been pleased to place him in. I had been told that he regarded me as a + rank outsider. He raised not only his eyes, but his eyebrows as well, at + the sound I made pulling back my chair. + </p> + <p> + Captain Giles was at the head of the table. I exchanged a few words of + greeting with him and sat down on his left. Stout and pale, with a great + shiny dome of a bald forehead and prominent brown eyes, he might have been + anything but a seaman. You would not have been surprised to learn that he + was an architect. To me (I know how absurd it is) he looked like a + churchwarden. He had the appearance of a man from whom you would expect + sound advice, moral sentiments, with perhaps a platitude or two thrown in + on occasion, not from a desire to dazzle, but from honest conviction. + </p> + <p> + Though very well known and appreciated in the shipping world, he had no + regular employment. He did not want it. He had his own peculiar position. + He was an expert. An expert in—how shall I say it?—in + intricate navigation. He was supposed to know more about remote and + imperfectly charted parts of the Archipelago than any man living. His + brain must have been a perfect warehouse of reefs, positions, bearings, + images of headlands, shapes of obscure coasts, aspects of innumerable + islands, desert and otherwise. Any ship, for instance, bound on a trip to + Palawan or somewhere that way would have Captain Giles on board, either in + temporary command or “to assist the master.” It was said that he had a + retaining fee from a wealthy firm of Chinese steamship owners, in view of + such services. Besides, he was always ready to relieve any man who wished + to take a spell ashore for a time. No owner was ever known to object to an + arrangement of that sort. For it seemed to be the established opinion at + the port that Captain Giles was as good as the best, if not a little + better. But in Hamilton’s view he was an “outsider.” I believe that for + Hamilton the generalisation “outsider” covered the whole lot of us; though + I suppose that he made some distinctions in his mind. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t try to make conversation with Captain Giles, whom I had not seen + more than twice in my life. But, of course, he knew who I was. After a + while, inclining his big shiny head my way, he addressed me first in his + friendly fashion. He presumed from seeing me there, he said, that I had + come ashore for a couple of days’ leave. + </p> + <p> + He was a low-voiced man. I spoke a little louder, saying that: No—I + had left the ship for good. + </p> + <p> + “A free man for a bit,” was his comment. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I may call myself that—since eleven o’clock,” I said. + </p> + <p> + Hamilton had stopped eating at the sound of our voices. He laid down his + knife and fork gently, got up, and muttering something about “this + infernal heat cutting one’s appetite,” went out of the room. Almost + immediately we heard him leave the house down the verandah steps. + </p> + <p> + On this Captain Giles remarked easily that the fellow had no doubt gone + off to look after my old job. The Chief Steward, who had been leaning + against the wall, brought his face of an unhappy goat nearer to the table + and addressed us dolefully. His object was to unburden himself of his + eternal grievance against Hamilton. The man kept him in hot water with the + Harbour Office as to the state of his accounts. He wished to goodness he + would get my job, though in truth what would it be? Temporary relief at + best. + </p> + <p> + I said: “You needn’t worry. He won’t get my job. My successor is on board + already.” + </p> + <p> + He was surprised, and I believe his face fell a little at the news. + Captain Giles gave a soft laugh. We got up and went out on the verandah, + leaving the supine stranger to be dealt with by the Chinamen. The last + thing I saw they had put a plate with a slice of pine-apple on it before + him and stood back to watch what would happen. But the experiment seemed a + failure. He sat insensible. + </p> + <p> + It was imparted to me in a low voice by Captain Giles that this was an + officer of some Rajah’s yacht which had come into our port to be + dry-docked. Must have been “seeing life” last night, he added, wrinkling + his nose in an intimate, confidential way which pleased me vastly. For + Captain Giles had prestige. He was credited with wonderful adventures and + with some mysterious tragedy in his life. And no man had a word to say + against him. He continued: + </p> + <p> + “I remember him first coming ashore here some years ago. Seems only the + other day. He was a nice boy. Oh! these nice boys!” + </p> + <p> + I could not help laughing aloud. He looked startled, then joined in the + laugh. “No! No! I didn’t mean that,” he cried. “What I meant is that some + of them do go soft mighty quick out here.” + </p> + <p> + Jocularly I suggested the beastly heat as the first cause. But Captain + Giles disclosed himself possessed of a deeper philosophy. Things out East + were made easy for white men. That was all right. The difficulty was to go + on keeping white, and some of these nice boys did not know how. He gave me + a searching look, and in a benevolent, heavy-uncle manner asked point + blank: + </p> + <p> + “Why did you throw up your berth?” + </p> + <p> + I became angry all of a sudden; for you can understand how exasperating + such a question was to a man who didn’t know. I said to myself that I + ought to shut up that moralist; and to him aloud I said with challenging + politeness: + </p> + <p> + “Why . . . ? Do you disapprove?” + </p> + <p> + He was too disconcerted to do more than mutter confusedly: “I! . . . In a + general way. . .” and then gave me up. But he retired in good order, under + the cover of a heavily humorous remark that he, too, was getting soft, and + that this was his time for taking his little siesta—when he was on + shore. “Very bad habit. Very bad habit.” + </p> + <p> + There was a simplicity in the man which would have disarmed a touchiness + even more youthful than mine. So when next day at tiffin he bent his head + toward me and said that he had met my late Captain last evening, adding in + an undertone: “He’s very sorry you left. He had never had a mate that + suited him so well,” I answered him earnestly, without any affectation, + that I certainly hadn’t been so comfortable in any ship or with any + commander in all my sea-going days. + </p> + <p> + “Well—then,” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you heard, Captain Giles, that I intend to go home?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said benevolently. “I have heard that sort of thing so often + before.” + </p> + <p> + “What of that?” I cried. I thought he was the most dull, unimaginative man + I had ever met. I don’t know what more I would have said, but the + much-belated Hamilton came in just then and took his usual seat. So I + dropped into a mumble. + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow, you shall see it done this time.” + </p> + <p> + Hamilton, beautifully shaved, gave Captain Giles a curt nod, but didn’t + even condescend to raise his eyebrows at me; and when he spoke it was only + to tell the Chief Steward that the food on his plate wasn’t fit to be set + before a gentleman. The individual addressed seemed much too unhappy to + groan. He cast his eyes up to the punkah and that was all. + </p> + <p> + Captain Giles and I got up from the table, and the stranger next to + Hamilton followed our example, manoeuvring himself to his feet with + difficulty. He, poor fellow, not because he was hungry but I verily + believe only to recover his self-respect, had tried to put some of that + unworthy food into his mouth. But after dropping his fork twice and + generally making a failure of it, he had sat still with an air of intense + mortification combined with a ghastly glazed stare. Both Giles and I had + avoided looking his way at table. + </p> + <p> + On the verandah he stopped short on purpose to address to us anxiously a + long remark which I failed to understand completely. It sounded like some + horrible unknown language. But when Captain Giles, after only an instant + for reflection, assured him with homely friendliness, “Aye, to be sure. + You are right there,” he appeared very much gratified indeed, and went + away (pretty straight, too) to seek a distant long chair. + </p> + <p> + “What was he trying to say?” I asked with disgust. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. Mustn’t be down too much on a fellow. He’s feeling pretty + wretched, you may be sure; and to-morrow he’ll feel worse yet.” + </p> + <p> + Judging by the man’s appearance it seemed impossible. I wondered what sort + of complicated debauch had reduced him to that unspeakable condition. + Captain Giles’ benevolence was spoiled by a curious air of complacency + which I disliked. I said with a little laugh: + </p> + <p> + “Well, he will have you to look after him.” He made a deprecatory gesture, + sat down, and took up a paper. I did the same. The papers were old and + uninteresting, filled up mostly with dreary stereotyped descriptions of + Queen Victoria’s first jubilee celebrations. Probably we should have + quickly fallen into a tropical afternoon doze if it had not been for + Hamilton’s voice raised in the dining room. He was finishing his tiffin + there. The big double doors stood wide open permanently, and he could not + have had any idea how near to the doorway our chairs were placed. He was + heard in a loud, supercilious tone answering some statement ventured by + the Chief Steward. + </p> + <p> + “I am not going to be rushed into anything. They will be glad enough to + get a gentleman I imagine. There is no hurry.” + </p> + <p> + A loud whispering from the Steward succeeded and then again Hamilton was + heard with even intenser scorn. + </p> + <p> + “What? That young ass who fancies himself for having been chief mate with + Kent so long? . . . Preposterous.” + </p> + <p> + Giles and I looked at each other. Kent being the name of my late + commander, Captain Giles’ whisper, “He’s talking of you,” seemed to me + sheer waste of breath. The Chief Steward must have stuck to his point, + whatever it was, because Hamilton was heard again more supercilious if + possible, and also very emphatic: + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish, my good man! One doesn’t <i>compete</i> with a rank outsider + like that. There’s plenty of time.” + </p> + <p> + Then there were pushing of chairs, footsteps in the next room, and + plaintive expostulations from the Steward, who was pursuing Hamilton, even + out of doors through the main entrance. + </p> + <p> + “That’s a very insulting sort of man,” remarked Captain Giles—superfluously, + I thought. “Very insulting. You haven’t offended him in some way, have + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Never spoke to him in my life,” I said grumpily. “Can’t imagine what he + means by competing. He has been trying for my job after I left—and + didn’t get it. But that isn’t exactly competition.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Giles balanced his big benevolent head thoughtfully. “He didn’t + get it,” he repeated very slowly. “No, not likely either, with Kent. Kent + is no end sorry you left him. He gives you the name of a good seaman, + too.” + </p> + <p> + I flung away the paper I was still holding. I sat up, I slapped the table + with my open palm. I wanted to know why he would keep harping on that, my + absolutely private affair. It was exasperating, really. + </p> + <p> + Captain Giles silenced me by the perfect equanimity of his gaze. “Nothing + to be annoyed about,” he murmured reasonably, with an evident desire to + soothe the childish irritation he had aroused. And he was really a man of + an appearance so inoffensive that I tried to explain myself as much as I + could. I told him that I did not want to hear any more about what was past + and gone. It had been very nice while it lasted, but now it was done with + I preferred not to talk about it or even think about it. I had made up my + mind to go home. + </p> + <p> + He listened to the whole tirade in a particular lending-the-ear attitude, + as if trying to detect a false note in it somewhere; then straightened + himself up and appeared to ponder sagaciously over the matter. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You told me you meant to go home. Anything in view there?” + </p> + <p> + Instead of telling him that it was none of his business I said sullenly: + </p> + <p> + “Nothing that I know of.” + </p> + <p> + I had indeed considered that rather blank side of the situation I had + created for myself by leaving suddenly my very satisfactory employment. + And I was not very pleased with it. I had it on the tip of my tongue to + say that common sense had nothing to do with my action, and that therefore + it didn’t deserve the interest Captain Giles seemed to be taking in it. + But he was puffing at a short wooden pipe now, and looked so guileless, + dense, and commonplace, that it seemed hardly worth while to puzzle him + either with truth or sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + He blew a cloud of smoke, then surprised me by a very abrupt: “Paid your + passage money yet?” + </p> + <p> + Overcome by the shameless pertinacity of a man to whom it was rather + difficult to be rude, I replied with exaggerated meekness that I had not + done so yet. I thought there would be plenty of time to do that to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + And I was about to turn away, withdrawing my privacy from his fatuous, + objectless attempts to test what sort of stuff it was made of, when he + laid down his pipe in an extremely significant manner, you know, as if a + critical moment had come, and leaned sideways over the table between us. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! You haven’t yet!” He dropped his voice mysteriously. “Well, then I + think you ought to know that there’s something going on here.” + </p> + <p> + I had never in my life felt more detached from all earthly goings on. + Freed from the sea for a time, I preserved the sailor’s consciousness of + complete independence from all land affairs. How could they concern me? I + gazed at Captain Giles’ animation with scorn rather than with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + To his obviously preparatory question whether our Steward had spoken to me + that day I said he hadn’t. And what’s more he would have had precious + little encouragement if he had tried to. I didn’t want the fellow to speak + to me at all. + </p> + <p> + Unrebuked by my petulance, Captain Giles, with an air of immense sagacity, + began to tell me a minute tale about a Harbour Office peon. It was + absolutely pointless. A peon was seen walking that morning on the verandah + with a letter in his hand. It was in an official envelope. As the habit of + these fellows is, he had shown it to the first white man he came across. + That man was our friend in the arm-chair. He, as I knew, was not in a + state to interest himself in any sublunary matters. He could only wave the + peon away. The peon then wandered on along the verandah and came upon + Captain Giles, who was there by an extraordinary chance. . . . + </p> + <p> + At this point he stopped with a profound look. The letter, he continued, + was addressed to the Chief Steward. Now what could Captain Ellis, the + Master Attendant, want to write to the Steward for? The fellow went every + morning, anyhow, to the Harbour Office with his report, for orders or what + not. He hadn’t been back more than an hour before there was an office peon + chasing him with a note. Now what was that for? + </p> + <p> + And he began to speculate. It was not for this—and it could not be + for that. As to that other thing it was unthinkable. + </p> + <p> + The fatuousness of all this made me stare. If the man had not been somehow + a sympathetic personality I would have resented it like an insult. As it + was, I felt only sorry for him. Something remarkably earnest in his gaze + prevented me from laughing in his face. Neither did I yawn at him. I just + stared. + </p> + <p> + His tone became a shade more mysterious. Directly the fellow (meaning the + Steward) got that note he rushed for his hat and bolted out of the house. + But it wasn’t because the note called him to the Harbour Office. He didn’t + go there. He was not absent long enough for that. He came darting back in + no time, flung his hat away, and raced about the dining room moaning and + slapping his forehead. All these exciting facts and manifestations had + been observed by Captain Giles. He had, it seems, been meditating upon + them ever since. + </p> + <p> + I began to pity him profoundly. And in a tone which I tried to make as + little sarcastic as possible I said that I was glad he had found something + to occupy his morning hours. + </p> + <p> + With his disarming simplicity he made me observe, as if it were a matter + of some consequence, how strange it was that he should have spent the + morning indoors at all. He generally was out before tiffin, visiting + various offices, seeing his friends in the harbour, and so on. He had felt + out of sorts somewhat on rising. Nothing much. Just enough to make him + feel lazy. + </p> + <p> + All this with a sustained, holding stare which, in conjunction with the + general inanity of the discourse, conveyed the impression of mild, dreary + lunacy. And when he hitched his chair a little and dropped his voice to + the low note of mystery, it flashed upon me that high professional + reputation was not necessarily a guarantee of sound mind. + </p> + <p> + It never occurred to me then that I didn’t know in what soundness of mind + exactly consisted and what a delicate and, upon the whole, unimportant + matter it was. With some idea of not hurting his feelings I blinked at him + in an interested manner. But when he proceeded to ask me mysteriously + whether I remembered what had passed just now between that Steward of ours + and “that man Hamilton,” I only grunted sourly assent and turned away my + head. + </p> + <p> + “Aye. But do you remember every word?” he insisted tactfully. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. It’s none of my business,” I snapped out, consigning, + moreover, the Steward and Hamilton aloud to eternal perdition. + </p> + <p> + I meant to be very energetic and final, but Captain Giles continued to + gaze at me thoughtfully. Nothing could stop him. He went on to point out + that my personality was involved in that conversation. When I tried to + preserve the semblance of unconcern he became positively cruel. I heard + what the man had said? Yes? What did I think of it then?—he wanted + to know. + </p> + <p> + Captain Giles’ appearance excluding the suspicion of mere sly malice, I + came to the conclusion that he was simply the most tactless idiot on + earth. I almost despised myself for the weakness of attempting to + enlighten his common understanding. I started to explain that I did not + think anything whatever. Hamilton was not worth a thought. What such an + offensive loafer . . . “Aye! that he is,” interjected Captain Giles . . . + thought or said was below any decent man’s contempt, and I did not propose + to take the slightest notice of it. + </p> + <p> + This attitude seemed to me so simple and obvious that I was really + astonished at Giles giving no sign of assent. Such perfect stupidity was + almost interesting. + </p> + <p> + “What would you like me to do?” I asked, laughing. “I can’t start a row + with him because of the opinion he has formed of me. Of course, I’ve heard + of the contemptuous way he alludes to me. But he doesn’t intrude his + contempt on my notice. He has never expressed it in my hearing. For even + just now he didn’t know we could hear him. I should only make myself + ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + That hopeless Giles went on puffing at his pipe moodily. All at once his + face cleared, and he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “You missed my point.” + </p> + <p> + “Have I? I am very glad to hear it,” I said. + </p> + <p> + With increasing animation he stated again that I had missed his point. + Entirely. And in a tone of growing self-conscious complacency he told me + that few things escaped his attention, and he was rather used to think + them out, and generally from his experience of life and men arrived at the + right conclusion. + </p> + <p> + This bit of self-praise, of course, fitted excellently the laborious + inanity of the whole conversation. The whole thing strengthened in me that + obscure feeling of life being but a waste of days, which, + half-unconsciously, had driven me out of a comfortable berth, away from + men I liked, to flee from the menace of emptiness . . . and to find + inanity at the first turn. Here was a man of recognized character and + achievement disclosed as an absurd and dreary chatterer. And it was + probably like this everywhere—from east to west, from the bottom to + the top of the social scale. + </p> + <p> + A great discouragement fell on me. A spiritual drowsiness. Giles’ voice + was going on complacently; the very voice of the universal hollow conceit. + And I was no longer angry with it. There was nothing original, nothing + new, startling, informing, to expect from the world; no opportunities to + find out something about oneself, no wisdom to acquire, no fun to enjoy. + Everything was stupid and overrated, even as Captain Giles was. So be it. + </p> + <p> + The name of Hamilton suddenly caught my ear and roused me up. + </p> + <p> + “I thought we had done with him,” I said, with the greatest possible + distaste. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But considering what we happened to hear just now I think you ought + to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ought to do it?” I sat up bewildered. “Do what?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Giles confronted me very much surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Why! Do what I have been advising you to try. You go and ask the Steward + what was there in that letter from the Harbour Office. Ask him straight + out.” + </p> + <p> + I remained speechless for a time. Here was something unexpected and + original enough to be altogether incomprehensible. I murmured, astounded: + </p> + <p> + “But I thought it was Hamilton that you . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Don’t you let him. You do what I tell you. You tackle that + Steward. You’ll make him jump, I bet,” insisted Captain Giles, waving his + smouldering pipe impressively at me. Then he took three rapid puffs at it. + </p> + <p> + His aspect of triumphant acuteness was indescribable. Yet the man remained + a strangely sympathetic creature. Benevolence radiated from him + ridiculously, mildly, impressively. It was irritating, too. But I pointed + out coldly, as one who deals with the incomprehensible, that I didn’t see + any reason to expose myself to a snub from the fellow. He was a very + unsatisfactory steward and a miserable wretch besides, but I would just as + soon think of tweaking his nose. + </p> + <p> + “Tweaking his nose,” said Captain Giles in a scandalized tone. “Much use + it would be to you.” + </p> + <p> + That remark was so irrelevant that one could make no answer to it. But the + sense of the absurdity was beginning at last to exercise its well-known + fascination. I felt I must not let the man talk to me any more. I got up, + observing curtly that he was too much for me—that I couldn’t make + him out. + </p> + <p> + Before I had time to move away he spoke again in a changed tone of + obstinacy and puffing nervously at his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Well—he’s a—no account cuss—anyhow. You just—ask + him. That’s all.” + </p> + <p> + That new manner impressed me—or rather made me pause. But sanity + asserting its sway at once I left the verandah after giving him a + mirthless smile. In a few strides I found myself in the dining room, now + cleared and empty. But during that short time various thoughts occurred to + me, such as: that Giles had been making fun of me, expecting some + amusement at my expense; that I probably looked silly and gullible; that I + knew very little of life. . . . + </p> + <p> + The door facing me across the dining room flew open to my extreme + surprise. It was the door inscribed with the word “Steward” and the man + himself ran out of his stuffy, Philistinish lair in his absurd, + hunted-animal manner, making for the garden door. + </p> + <p> + To this day I don’t know what made me call after him. “I say! Wait a + minute.” Perhaps it was the sidelong glance he gave me; or possibly I was + yet under the influence of Captain Giles’ mysterious earnestness. Well, it + was an impulse of some sort; an effect of that force somewhere within our + lives which shapes them this way or that. For if these words had not + escaped from my lips (my will had nothing to do with that) my existence + would, to be sure, have been still a seaman’s existence, but directed on + now to me utterly inconceivable lines. + </p> + <p> + No. My will had nothing to do with it. Indeed, no sooner had I made that + fateful noise than I became extremely sorry for it. Had the man stopped + and faced me I would have had to retire in disorder. For I had no notion + to carry out Captain Giles’ idiotic joke, either at my own expense or at + the expense of the Steward. + </p> + <p> + But here the old human instinct of the chase came into play. He pretended + to be deaf, and I, without thinking a second about it, dashed along my own + side of the dining table and cut him off at the very door. + </p> + <p> + “Why can’t you answer when you are spoken to?” I asked roughly. + </p> + <p> + He leaned against the lintel of the door. He looked extremely wretched. + Human nature is, I fear, not very nice right through. There are ugly spots + in it. I found myself growing angry, and that, I believe, only because my + quarry looked so woe-begone. Miserable beggar! + </p> + <p> + I went for him without more ado. “I understand there was an official + communication to the Home from the Harbour Office this morning. Is that + so?” + </p> + <p> + Instead of telling me to mind my own business, as he might have done, he + began to whine with an undertone of impudence. He couldn’t see me anywhere + this morning. He couldn’t be expected to run all over the town after me. + </p> + <p> + “Who wants you to?” I cried. And then my eyes became opened to the + inwardness of things and speeches the triviality of which had been so + baffling and tiresome. + </p> + <p> + I told him I wanted to know what was in that letter. My sternness of tone + and behaviour was only half assumed. Curiosity can be a very fierce + sentiment—at times. + </p> + <p> + He took refuge in a silly, muttering sulkiness. It was nothing to me, he + mumbled. I had told him I was going home. And since I was going home he + didn’t see why he should. . . . + </p> + <p> + That was the line of his argument, and it was irrelevant enough to be + almost insulting. Insulting to one’s intelligence, I mean. + </p> + <p> + In that twilight region between youth and maturity, in which I had my + being then, one is peculiarly sensitive to that kind of insult. I am + afraid my behaviour to the Steward became very rough indeed. But it wasn’t + in him to face out anything or anybody. Drug habit or solitary tippling, + perhaps. And when I forgot myself so far as to swear at him he broke down + and began to shriek. + </p> + <p> + I don’t mean to say that he made a great outcry. It was a cynical + shrieking confession, only faint—piteously faint. It wasn’t very + coherent either, but sufficiently so to strike me dumb at first. I turned + my eyes from him in righteous indignation, and perceived Captain Giles in + the verandah doorway surveying quietly the scene, his own handiwork, if I + may express it in that way. His smouldering black pipe was very noticeable + in his big, paternal fist. So, too, was the glitter of his heavy gold + watch-chain across the breast of his white tunic. He exhaled an atmosphere + of virtuous sagacity serene enough for any innocent soul to fly to + confidently. I flew to him. + </p> + <p> + “You would never believe it,” I cried. “It was a notification that a + master is wanted for some ship. There’s a command apparently going about + and this fellow puts the thing in his pocket.” + </p> + <p> + The Steward screamed out in accents of loud despair: “You will be the + death of me!” + </p> + <p> + The mighty slap he gave his wretched forehead was very loud, too. But when + I turned to look at him he was no longer there. He had rushed away + somewhere out of sight. This sudden disappearance made me laugh. + </p> + <p> + This was the end of the incident—for me. Captain Giles, however, + staring at the place where the Steward had been, began to haul at his + gorgeous gold chain till at last the watch came up from the deep pocket + like solid truth from a well. Solemnly he lowered it down again and only + then said: + </p> + <p> + “Just three o’clock. You will be in time—if you don’t lose any, that + is.” + </p> + <p> + “In time for what?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord! For the Harbour Office. This must be looked into.” + </p> + <p> + Strictly speaking, he was right. But I’ve never had much taste for + investigation, for showing people up and all that no doubt ethically + meritorious kind of work. And my view of the episode was purely ethical. + If any one had to be the death of the Steward I didn’t see why it + shouldn’t be Captain Giles himself, a man of age and standing, and a + permanent resident. Whereas, I in comparison, felt myself a mere bird of + passage in that port. In fact, it might have been said that I had already + broken off my connection. I muttered that I didn’t think—it was + nothing to me. . . . + </p> + <p> + “Nothing!” repeated Captain Giles, giving some signs of quiet, deliberate + indignation. “Kent warned me you were a peculiar young fellow. You will + tell me next that a command is nothing to you—and after all the + trouble I’ve taken, too!” + </p> + <p> + “The trouble!” I murmured, uncomprehending. What trouble? All I could + remember was being mystified and bored by his conversation for a solid + hour after tiffin. And he called that taking a lot of trouble. + </p> + <p> + He was looking at me with a self-complacency which would have been odious + in any other man. All at once, as if a page of a book had been turned over + disclosing a word which made plain all that had gone before, I perceived + that this matter had also another than an ethical aspect. + </p> + <p> + And still I did not move. Captain Giles lost his patience a little. With + an angry puff at his pipe he turned his back on my hesitation. + </p> + <p> + But it was not hesitation on my part. I had been, if I may express myself + so, put out of gear mentally. But as soon as I had convinced myself that + this stale, unprofitable world of my discontent contained such a thing as + a command to be seized, I recovered my powers of locomotion. + </p> + <p> + It’s a good step from the Officers’ Home to the Harbour Office; but with + the magic word “Command” in my head I found myself suddenly on the quay as + if transported there in the twinkling of an eye, before a portal of + dressed white stone above a flight of shallow white steps. + </p> + <p> + All this seemed to glide toward me swiftly. The whole great roadstead to + the right was just a mere flicker of blue, and the dim cool hall swallowed + me up out of the heat and glare of which I had not been aware till the + very moment I passed in from it. + </p> + <p> + The broad inner staircase insinuated itself under my feet somehow. Command + is a strong magic. The first human beings I perceived distinctly since I + had parted with the indignant back of Captain Giles were the crew of the + harbour steam-launch lounging on the spacious landing about the curtained + archway of the shipping office. + </p> + <p> + It was there that my buoyancy abandoned me. The atmosphere of officialdom + would kill anything that breathes the air of human endeavour, would + extinguish hope and fear alike in the supremacy of paper and ink. I passed + heavily under the curtain which the Malay coxswain of the harbour launch + raised for me. There was nobody in the office except the clerks, writing + in two industrious rows. But the head Shipping-Master hopped down from his + elevation and hurried along on the thick mats to meet me in the broad + central passage. + </p> + <p> + He had a Scottish name, but his complexion was of a rich olive hue, his + short beard was jet black, and his eyes, also black, had a languishing + expression. He asked confidentially: + </p> + <p> + “You want to see Him?” + </p> + <p> + All lightness of spirit and body having departed from me at the touch of + officialdom, I looked at the scribe without animation and asked in my turn + wearily: + </p> + <p> + “What do you think? Is it any use?” + </p> + <p> + “My goodness! He has asked for you twice today.” + </p> + <p> + This emphatic He was the supreme authority, the Marine Superintendent, the + Harbour-Master—a very great person in the eyes of every single + quill-driver in the room. But that was nothing to the opinion he had of + his own greatness. + </p> + <p> + Captain Ellis looked upon himself as a sort of divine (pagan) emanation, + the deputy-Neptune for the circumambient seas. If he did not actually rule + the waves, he pretended to rule the fate of the mortals whose lives were + cast upon the waters. + </p> + <p> + This uplifting illusion made him inquisitorial and peremptory. And as his + temperament was choleric there were fellows who were actually afraid of + him. He was redoubtable, not in virtue of his office, but because of his + unwarrantable assumptions. I had never had anything to do with him before. + </p> + <p> + I said: “Oh! He has asked for me twice. Then perhaps I had better go in.” + </p> + <p> + “You must! You must!” + </p> + <p> + The Shipping-Master led the way with a mincing gait around the whole + system of desks to a tall and important-looking door, which he opened with + a deferential action of the arm. + </p> + <p> + He stepped right in (but without letting go of the handle) and, after + gazing reverently down the room for a while, beckoned me in by a silent + jerk of the head. Then he slipped out at once and shut the door after me + most delicately. + </p> + <p> + Three lofty windows gave on the harbour. There was nothing in them but the + dark-blue sparkling sea and the paler luminous blue of the sky. My eye + caught in the depths and distances of these blue tones the white speck of + some big ship just arrived and about to anchor in the outer roadstead. A + ship from home—after perhaps ninety days at sea. There is something + touching about a ship coming in from sea and folding her white wings for a + rest. + </p> + <p> + The next thing I saw was the top-knot of silver hair surmounting Captain + Ellis’ smooth red face, which would have been apoplectic if it hadn’t had + such a fresh appearance. + </p> + <p> + Our deputy-Neptune had no beard on his chin, and there was no trident to + be seen standing in a corner anywhere, like an umbrella. But his hand was + holding a pen—the official pen, far mightier than the sword in + making or marring the fortune of simple toiling men. He was looking over + his shoulder at my advance. + </p> + <p> + When I had come well within range he saluted me by a nerve-shattering: + “Where have you been all this time?” + </p> + <p> + As it was no concern of his I did not take the slightest notice of the + shot. I said simply that I had heard there was a master needed for some + vessel, and being a sailing-ship man I thought I would apply. . . . + </p> + <p> + He interrupted me. “Why! Hang it! <i>You</i> are the right man for that + job—if there had been twenty others after it. But no fear of that. + They are all afraid to catch hold. That’s what’s the matter.” + </p> + <p> + He was very irritated. I said innocently: “Are they, sir. I wonder why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why!” he fumed. “Afraid of the sails. Afraid of a white crew. Too much + trouble. Too much work. Too long out here. Easy life and deck-chairs more + their mark. Here I sit with the Consul-General’s cable before me, and the + only man fit for the job not to be found anywhere. I began to think you + were funking it, too. . . .” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t been long getting to the office,” I remarked calmly. + </p> + <p> + “You have a good name out here, though,” he growled savagely without + looking at me. + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to hear it from you, sir,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But you are not on the spot when you are wanted. You know you + weren’t. That steward of yours wouldn’t dare to neglect a message from + this office. Where the devil did you hide yourself for the best part of + the day?” + </p> + <p> + I only smiled kindly down on him, and he seemed to recollect himself, and + asked me to take a seat. He explained that the master of a British ship + having died in Bangkok the Consul-General had cabled to him a request for + a competent man to be sent out to take command. + </p> + <p> + Apparently, in his mind, I was the man from the first, though for the + looks of the thing the notification addressed to the Sailors’ Home was + general. An agreement had already been prepared. He gave it to me to read, + and when I handed it back to him with the remark that I accepted its + terms, the deputy-Neptune signed it, stamped it with his own exalted hand, + folded it in four (it was a sheet of blue foolscap) and presented it to me—a + gift of extraordinary potency, for, as I put it in my pocket, my head swam + a little. + </p> + <p> + “This is your appointment to the command,” he said with a certain gravity. + “An official appointment binding the owners to conditions which you have + accepted. Now—when will you be ready to go?” + </p> + <p> + I said I would be ready that very day if necessary. He caught me at my + word with great alacrity. The steamer Melita was leaving for Bangkok that + evening about seven. He would request her captain officially to give me a + passage and wait for me till ten o’clock. + </p> + <p> + Then he rose from his office chair, and I got up, too. My head swam, there + was no doubt about it, and I felt a certain heaviness of limbs as if they + had grown bigger since I had sat down on that chair. I made my bow. + </p> + <p> + A subtle change in Captain Ellis’ manner became perceptible as though he + had laid aside the trident of deputy-Neptune. In reality, it was only his + official pen that he had dropped on getting up. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + He shook hands with me: “Well, there you are, on your own, appointed + officially under my responsibility.” + </p> + <p> + He was actually walking with me to the door. What a distance off it + seemed! I moved like a man in bonds. But we reached it at last. I opened + it with the sensation of dealing with mere dream-stuff, and then at the + last moment the fellowship of seamen asserted itself, stronger than the + difference of age and station. It asserted itself in Captain Ellis’ voice. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye—and good luck to you,” he said so heartily that I could + only give him a grateful glance. Then I turned and went out, never to see + him again in my life. I had not made three steps into the outer office + when I heard behind my back a gruff, loud, authoritative voice, the voice + of our deputy-Neptune. + </p> + <p> + It was addressing the head Shipping-Master who, having let me in, had, + apparently, remained hovering in the middle distance ever since. “Mr. R., + let the harbour launch have steam up to take the captain here on board the + Melita at half-past nine to-night.” + </p> + <p> + I was amazed at the startled alacrity of R’s “Yes, sir.” He ran before me + out on the landing. My new dignity sat yet so lightly on me that I was not + aware that it was I, the Captain, the object of this last graciousness. It + seemed as if all of a sudden a pair of wings had grown on my shoulders. I + merely skimmed along the polished floor. + </p> + <p> + But R. was impressed. + </p> + <p> + “I say!” he exclaimed on the landing, while the Malay crew of the + steam-launch standing by looked stonily at the man for whom they were + going to be kept on duty so late, away from their gambling, from their + girls, or their pure domestic joys. “I say! His own launch. What have you + done to him?” + </p> + <p> + His stare was full of respectful curiosity. I was quite confounded. + </p> + <p> + “Was it for me? I hadn’t the slightest notion,” I stammered out. + </p> + <p> + He nodded many times. “Yes. And the last person who had it before you was + a Duke. So, there!” + </p> + <p> + I think he expected me to faint on the spot. But I was in too much of a + hurry for emotional displays. My feelings were already in such a whirl + that this staggering information did not seem to make the slightest + difference. It merely fell into the seething cauldron of my brain, and I + carried it off with me after a short but effusive passage of leave-taking + with R. + </p> + <p> + The favour of the great throws an aureole round the fortunate object of + its selection. That excellent man enquired whether he could do anything + for me. He had known me only by sight, and he was well aware he would + never see me again; I was, in common with the other seamen of the port, + merely a subject for official writing, filling up of forms with all the + artificial superiority of a man of pen and ink to the men who grapple with + realities outside the consecrated walls of official buildings. What ghosts + we must have been to him! Mere symbols to juggle with in books and heavy + registers, without brains and muscles and perplexities; something hardly + useful and decidedly inferior. + </p> + <p> + And he—the office hours being over—wanted to know if he could + be of any use to me! + </p> + <p> + I ought—properly speaking—I ought to have been moved to tears. + But I did not even think of it. It was merely another miraculous + manifestation of that day of miracles. I parted from him as if he were a + mere symbol. I floated down the staircase. I floated out of the official + and imposing portal. I went on floating along. + </p> + <p> + I use that word rather than the word “flew,” because I have a distinct + impression that, though uplifted by my aroused youth, my movements were + deliberate enough. To that mixed white, brown, and yellow portion of + mankind, out abroad on their own affairs, I presented the appearance of a + man walking rather sedately. And nothing in the way of abstraction could + have equalled my deep detachment from the forms and colours of this world. + It was, as it were, final. + </p> + <p> + And yet, suddenly, I recognized Hamilton. I recognized him without effort, + without a shock, without a start. There he was, strolling toward the + Harbour Office with his stiff, arrogant dignity. His red face made him + noticeable at a distance. It flamed, over there, on the shady side of the + street. + </p> + <p> + He had perceived me, too. Something (unconscious exuberance of spirits + perhaps) moved me to wave my hand to him elaborately. This lapse from good + taste happened before I was aware that I was capable of it. + </p> + <p> + The impact of my impudence stopped him short, much as a bullet might have + done. I verily believe he staggered, though as far as I could see he + didn’t actually fall. I had gone past in a moment and did not turn my + head. I had forgotten his existence. + </p> + <p> + The next ten minutes might have been ten seconds or ten centuries for all + my consciousness had to do with it. People might have been falling dead + around me, houses crumbling, guns firing, I wouldn’t have known. I was + thinking: “By Jove! I have got it.” <i>It</i> being the command. It had + come about in a way utterly unforeseen in my modest day-dreams. + </p> + <p> + I perceived that my imagination had been running in conventional channels + and that my hopes had always been drab stuff. I had envisaged a command as + a result of a slow course of promotion in the employ of some highly + respectable firm. The reward of faithful service. Well, faithful service + was all right. One would naturally give that for one’s own sake, for the + sake of the ship, for the love of the life of one’s choice; not for the + sake of the reward. + </p> + <p> + There is something distasteful in the notion of a reward. + </p> + <p> + And now here I had my command, absolutely in my pocket, in a way + undeniable indeed, but most unexpected; beyond my imaginings, outside all + reasonable expectations, and even notwithstanding the existence of some + sort of obscure intrigue to keep it away from me. It is true that the + intrigue was feeble, but it helped the feeling of wonder—as if I had + been specially destined for that ship I did not know, by some power higher + than the prosaic agencies of the commercial world. + </p> + <p> + A strange sense of exultation began to creep into me. If I had worked for + that command ten years or more there would have been nothing of the kind. + I was a little frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Let us be calm,” I said to myself. + </p> + <p> + Outside the door of the Officers’ Home the wretched Steward seemed to be + waiting for me. There was a broad flight of a few steps, and he ran to and + fro on the top of it as if chained there. A distressed cur. He looked as + though his throat were too dry for him to bark. + </p> + <p> + I regret to say I stopped before going in. There had been a revolution in + my moral nature. He waited open-mouthed, breathless, while I looked at him + for half a minute. + </p> + <p> + “And you thought you could keep me out of it,” I said scathingly. + </p> + <p> + “You said you were going home,” he squeaked miserably. “You said so. You + said so.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what Captain Ellis will have to say to that excuse,” I uttered + slowly with a sinister meaning. + </p> + <p> + His lower jaw had been trembling all the time and his voice was like the + bleating of a sick goat. “You have given me away? You have done for me?” + </p> + <p> + Neither his distress nor yet the sheer absurdity of it was able to disarm + me. It was the first instance of harm being attempted to be done to me—at + any rate, the first I had ever found out. And I was still young enough, + still too much on this side of the shadow line, not to be surprised and + indignant at such things. + </p> + <p> + I gazed at him inflexibly. Let the beggar suffer. He slapped his forehead + and I passed in, pursued, into the dining room, by his screech: “I always + said you’d be the death of me.” + </p> + <p> + This clamour not only overtook me, but went ahead as it were on to the + verandah and brought out Captain Giles. + </p> + <p> + He stood before me in the doorway in all the commonplace solidity of his + wisdom. The gold chain glittered on his breast. He clutched a smouldering + pipe. + </p> + <p> + I extended my hand to him warmly and he seemed surprised, but did respond + heartily enough in the end, with a faint smile of superior knowledge which + cut my thanks short as if with a knife. I don’t think that more than one + word came out. And even for that one, judging by the temperature of my + face, I had blushed as if for a bad action. Assuming a detached tone, I + wondered how on earth he had managed to spot the little underhand game + that had been going on. + </p> + <p> + He murmured complacently that there were but few things done in the town + that he could not see the inside of. And as to this house, he had been + using it off and on for nearly ten years. Nothing that went on in it could + escape his great experience. It had been no trouble to him. No trouble at + all. + </p> + <p> + Then in his quiet, thick tone he wanted to know if I had complained + formally of the Steward’s action. + </p> + <p> + I said that I hadn’t—though, indeed, it was not for want of + opportunity. Captain Ellis had gone for me bald-headed in a most + ridiculous fashion for being out of the way when wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Funny old gentleman,” interjected Captain Giles. “What did you say to + that?” + </p> + <p> + “I said simply that I came along the very moment I heard of his message. + Nothing more. I didn’t want to hurt the Steward. I would scorn to harm + such an object. No. I made no complaint, but I believe he thinks I’ve done + so. Let him think. He’s got a fright he won’t forget in a hurry, for + Captain Ellis would kick him out into the middle of Asia. . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment,” said Captain Giles, leaving me suddenly. I sat down + feeling very tired, mostly in my head. Before I could start a train of + thought he stood again before me, murmuring the excuse that he had to go + and put the fellow’s mind at ease. + </p> + <p> + I looked up with surprise. But in reality I was indifferent. He explained + that he had found the Steward lying face downward on the horsehair sofa. + He was all right now. + </p> + <p> + “He would not have died of fright,” I said contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “No. But he might have taken an overdose out of one of them little bottles + he keeps in his room,” Captain Giles argued seriously. “The confounded + fool has tried to poison himself once—a few years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Really,” I said without emotion. “He doesn’t seem very fit to live, + anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “As to that, it may be said of a good many.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t exaggerate like this!” I protested, laughing irritably. “But I + wonder what this part of the world would do if you were to leave off + looking after it, Captain Giles? Here you have got me a command and saved + the Steward’s life in one afternoon. Though why you should have taken all + that interest in either of us is more than I can understand.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Giles remained silent for a minute. Then gravely: + </p> + <p> + “He’s not a bad steward really. He can find a good cook, at any rate. And, + what’s more, he can keep him when found. I remember the cooks we had here + before his time! . . .” + </p> + <p> + I must have made a movement of impatience, because he interrupted himself + with an apology for keeping me yarning there, while no doubt I needed all + my time to get ready. + </p> + <p> + What I really needed was to be alone for a bit. I seized this opening + hastily. My bedroom was a quiet refuge in an apparently uninhabited wing + of the building. Having absolutely nothing to do (for I had not unpacked + my things), I sat down on the bed and abandoned myself to the influences + of the hour. To the unexpected influences. . . . + </p> + <p> + And first I wondered at my state of mind. Why was I not more surprised? + Why? Here I was, invested with a command in the twinkling of an eye, not + in the common course of human affairs, but more as if by enchantment. I + ought to have been lost in astonishment. But I wasn’t. I was very much + like people in fairy tales. Nothing ever astonishes them. When a fully + appointed gala coach is produced out of a pumpkin to take her to a ball, + Cinderella does not exclaim. She gets in quietly and drives away to her + high fortune. + </p> + <p> + Captain Ellis (a fierce sort of fairy) had produced a command out of a + drawer almost as unexpectedly as in a fairy tale. But a command is an + abstract idea, and it seemed a sort of “lesser marvel” till it flashed + upon me that it involved the concrete existence of a ship. + </p> + <p> + A ship! My ship! She was mine, more absolutely mine for possession and + care than anything in the world; an object of responsibility and devotion. + She was there waiting for me, spell-bound, unable to move, to live, to get + out into the world (till I came), like an enchanted princess. Her call had + come to me as if from the clouds. I had never suspected her existence. I + didn’t know how she looked, I had barely heard her name, and yet we were + indissolubly united for a certain portion of our future, to sink or swim + together! + </p> + <p> + A sudden passion of anxious impatience rushed through my veins, gave me + such a sense of the intensity of existence as I have never felt before or + since. I discovered how much of a seaman I was, in heart, in mind, and, as + it were, physically—a man exclusively of sea and ships; the sea the + only world that counted, and the ships, the test of manliness, of + temperament, of courage and fidelity—and of love. + </p> + <p> + I had an exquisite moment. It was unique also. Jumping up from my seat, I + paced up and down my room for a long time. But when I came downstairs I + behaved with sufficient composure. Only I couldn’t eat anything at dinner. + </p> + <p> + Having declared my intention not to drive but to walk down to the quay, I + must render the wretched Steward justice that he bestirred himself to find + me some coolies for the luggage. They departed, carrying all my worldly + possessions (except a little money I had in my pocket) slung from a long + pole. Captain Giles volunteered to walk down with me. + </p> + <p> + We followed the sombre, shaded alley across the Esplanade. It was + moderately cool there under the trees. Captain Giles remarked, with a + sudden laugh: “I know who’s jolly thankful at having seen the last of + you.” + </p> + <p> + I guessed that he meant the Steward. The fellow had borne himself to me in + a sulkily frightened manner at the last. I expressed my wonder that he + should have tried to do me a bad turn for no reason at all. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you see that what he wanted was to get rid of our friend Hamilton + by dodging him in front of you for that job? That would have removed him + for good. See?” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens!” I exclaimed, feeling humiliated somehow. “Can it be possible? + What a fool he must be! That overbearing, impudent loafer! Why! He + couldn’t. . . . And yet he’s nearly done it, I believe; for the Harbour + Office was bound to send somebody.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye. A fool like our Steward can be dangerous sometimes,” declared + Captain Giles sententiously. “Just because he is a fool,” he added, + imparting further instruction in his complacent low tones. “For,” he + continued in the manner of a set demonstration, “no sensible person would + risk being kicked out of the only berth between himself and starvation + just to get rid of a simple annoyance—a small worry. Would he now?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no,” I conceded, restraining a desire to laugh at that something + mysteriously earnest in delivering the conclusions of his wisdom as though + it were the product of prohibited operations. “But that fellow looks as if + he were rather crazy. He must be.” + </p> + <p> + “As to that, I believe everybody in the world is a little mad,” he + announced quietly. + </p> + <p> + “You make no exceptions?” I inquired, just to hear his manner. + </p> + <p> + “Why! Kent says that even of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he?” I retorted, extremely embittered all at once against my former + captain. “There’s nothing of that in the written character from him which + I’ve got in my pocket. Has he given you any instances of my lunacy?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Giles explained in a conciliating tone that it had been only a + friendly remark in reference to my abrupt leaving the ship for no apparent + reason. + </p> + <p> + I muttered grumpily: “Oh! leaving his ship,” and mended my pace. He kept + up by my side in the deep gloom of the avenue as if it were his + conscientious duty to see me out of the colony as an undesirable + character. He panted a little, which was rather pathetic in a way. But I + was not moved. On the contrary. His discomfort gave me a sort of malicious + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Presently I relented, slowed down, and said: + </p> + <p> + “What I really wanted was to get a fresh grip. I felt it was time. Is that + so very mad?” + </p> + <p> + He made no answer. We were issuing from the avenue. On the bridge over the + canal a dark, irresolute figure seemed to be awaiting something or + somebody. + </p> + <p> + It was a Malay policeman, barefooted, in his blue uniform. The silver band + on his little round cap shone dimly in the light of the street lamp. He + peered in our direction timidly. + </p> + <p> + Before we could come up to him he turned about and walked in front of us + in the direction of the jetty. The distance was some hundred yards; and + then I found my coolies squatting on their heels. They had kept the pole + on their shoulders, and all my worldly goods, still tied to the pole, were + resting on the ground between them. As far as the eye could reach along + the quay there was not another soul abroad except the police peon, who + saluted us. + </p> + <p> + It seems he had detained the coolies as suspicious characters, and had + forbidden them the jetty. But at a sign from me he took off the embargo + with alacrity. The two patient fellows, rising together with a faint + grunt, trotted off along the planks, and I prepared to take my leave of + Captain Giles, who stood there with an air as though his mission were + drawing to a close. It could not be denied that he had done it all. And + while I hesitated about an appropriate sentence he made himself heard: + </p> + <p> + “I expect you’ll have your hands pretty full of tangled-up business.” + </p> + <p> + I asked him what made him think so; and he answered that it was his + general experience of the world. Ship a long time away from her port, + owners inaccessible by cable, and the only man who could explain matters + dead and buried. + </p> + <p> + “And you yourself new to the business in a way,” he concluded in a sort of + unanswerable tone. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t insist,” I said. “I know it only too well. I only wish you could + impart to me some small portion of your experience before I go. As it + can’t be done in ten minutes I had better not begin to ask you. There’s + that harbour launch waiting for me, too. But I won’t feel really at peace + till I have that ship of mine out in the Indian Ocean.” + </p> + <p> + He remarked casually that from Bangkok to the Indian Ocean was a pretty + long step. And this murmur, like a dim flash from a dark lantern, showed + me for a moment the broad belt of islands and reefs between that unknown + ship, which was mine, and the freedom of the great waters of the globe. + </p> + <p> + But I felt no apprehension. I was familiar enough with the Archipelago by + that time. Extreme patience and extreme care would see me through the + region of broken land, of faint airs, and of dead water to where I would + feel at last my command swing on the great swell and list over to the + great breath of regular winds, that would give her the feeling of a large, + more intense life. The road would be long. All roads are long that lead + toward one’s heart’s desire. But this road my mind’s eye could see on a + chart, professionally, with all its complications and difficulties, yet + simple enough in a way. One is a seaman or one is not. And I had no doubt + of being one. + </p> + <p> + The only part I was a stranger to was the Gulf of Siam. And I mentioned + this to Captain Giles. Not that I was concerned very much. It belonged to + the same region the nature of which I knew, into whose very soul I seemed + to have looked during the last months of that existence with which I had + broken now, suddenly, as one parts with some enchanting company. + </p> + <p> + “The gulf . . . Ay! A funny piece of water—that,” said Captain + Giles. + </p> + <p> + Funny, in this connection, was a vague word. The whole thing sounded like + an opinion uttered by a cautious person mindful of actions for slander. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t inquire as to the nature of that funniness. There was really no + time. But at the very last he volunteered a warning. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever you do keep to the east side of it. The west side is dangerous + at this time of the year. Don’t let anything tempt you over. You’ll find + nothing but trouble there.” + </p> + <p> + Though I could hardly imagine what could tempt me to involve my ship + amongst the currents and reefs of the Malay shore, I thanked him for the + advice. + </p> + <p> + He gripped my extended arm warmly, and the end of our acquaintance came + suddenly in the words: “Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + That was all he said: “Good-night.” Nothing more. I don’t know what I + intended to say, but surprise made me swallow it, whatever it was. I + choked slightly, and then exclaimed with a sort of nervous haste: “Oh! + Good-night, Captain Giles, good-night.” + </p> + <p> + His movements were always deliberate, but his back had receded some + distance along the deserted quay before I collected myself enough to + follow his example and made a half turn in the direction of the jetty. + </p> + <p> + Only my movements were not deliberate. I hurried down to the steps, and + leaped into the launch. Before I had fairly landed in her sternsheets the + slim little craft darted away from the jetty with a sudden swirl of her + propeller and the hard, rapid puffing of the exhaust in her vaguely + gleaming brass funnel amidships. + </p> + <p> + The misty churning at her stern was the only sound in the world. The shore + lay plunged in the silence of the deeper slumber. I watched the town + recede still and soundless in the hot night, till the abrupt hail, + “Steam-launch, ahoy!” made me spin round face forward. We were close to a + white ghostly steamer. Lights shone on her decks, in her portholes. And + the same voice shouted from her: + </p> + <p> + “Is that our passenger?” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” I yelled. + </p> + <p> + Her crew had been obviously on the jump. I could hear them running about. + The modern spirit of haste was loudly vocal in the orders to “Heave away + on the cable”—to “Lower the sideladder,” and in urgent requests to + me to “Come along, sir! We have been delayed three hours for you. . . . + Our time is seven o’clock, you know!” + </p> + <p> + I stepped on the deck. I said “No! I don’t know.” The spirit of modern + hurry was embodied in a thin, long-armed, long-legged man, with a closely + clipped gray beard. His meagre hand was hot and dry. He declared + feverishly: + </p> + <p> + “I am hanged if I would have waited another five minutes Harbour-Master or + no Harbour-Master.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s your own business,” I said. “I didn’t ask you to wait for me.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you don’t expect any supper,” he burst out. “This isn’t a + boarding-house afloat. You are the first passenger I ever had in my life + and I hope to goodness you will be the last.” + </p> + <p> + I made no answer to this hospitable communication; and, indeed, he didn’t + wait for any, bolting away on to his bridge to get his ship under way. + </p> + <p> + The three days he had me on board he did not depart from that half-hostile + attitude. His ship having been delayed three hours on my account he + couldn’t forgive me for not being a more distinguished person. He was not + exactly outspoken about it, but that feeling of annoyed wonder was peeping + out perpetually in his talk. + </p> + <p> + He was absurd. + </p> + <p> + He was also a man of much experience, which he liked to trot out; but no + greater contrast with Captain Giles could have been imagined. He would + have amused me if I had wanted to be amused. But I did not want to be + amused. I was like a lover looking forward to a meeting. Human hostility + was nothing to me. I thought of my unknown ship. It was amusement enough, + torment enough, occupation enough. + </p> + <p> + He perceived my state, for his wits were sufficiently sharp for that, and + he poked sly fun at my preoccupation in the manner some nasty, cynical old + men assume toward the dreams and illusions of youth. I, on my side, + refrained from questioning him as to the appearance of my ship, though I + knew that being in Bangkok every fortnight or so he must have known her by + sight. I was not going to expose the ship, my ship! to some slighting + reference. + </p> + <p> + He was the first really unsympathetic man I had ever come in contact with. + My education was far from being finished, though I didn’t know it. No! I + didn’t know it. + </p> + <p> + All I knew was that he disliked me and had some contempt for my person. + Why? Apparently because his ship had been delayed three hours on my + account. Who was I to have such a thing done for me? Such a thing had + never been done for him. It was a sort of jealous indignation. + </p> + <p> + My expectation, mingled with fear, was wrought to its highest pitch. How + slow had been the days of the passage and how soon they were over. One + morning, early, we crossed the bar, and while the sun was rising + splendidly over the flat spaces of the land we steamed up the innumerable + bends, passed under the shadow of the great gilt pagoda, and reached the + outskirts of the town. + </p> + <p> + There it was, spread largely on both banks, the Oriental capital which had + as yet suffered no white conqueror; an expanse of brown houses of bamboo, + of mats, of leaves, of a vegetable-matter style of architecture, sprung + out of the brown soil on the banks of the muddy river. It was amazing to + think that in those miles of human habitations there was not probably half + a dozen pounds of nails. Some of those houses of sticks and grass, like + the nests of an aquatic race, clung to the low shores. Others seemed to + grow out of the water; others again floated in long anchored rows in the + very middle of the stream. Here and there in the distance, above the + crowded mob of low, brown roof ridges, towered great piles of masonry, + King’s Palace, temples, gorgeous and dilapidated, crumbling under the + vertical sunlight, tremendous, overpowering, almost palpable, which seemed + to enter one’s breast with the breath of one’s nostrils and soak into + one’s limbs through every pore of one’s skin. + </p> + <p> + The ridiculous victim of jealousy had for some reason or other to stop his + engines just then. The steamer drifted slowly up with the tide. Oblivious + of my new surroundings I walked the deck, in anxious, deadened + abstraction, a commingling of romantic reverie with a very practical + survey of my qualifications. For the time was approaching for me to behold + my command and to prove my worth in the ultimate test of my profession. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I heard myself called by that imbecile. He was beckoning me to + come up on his bridge. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t care very much for that, but as it seemed that he had something + particular to say I went up the ladder. + </p> + <p> + He laid his hand on my shoulder and gave me a slight turn, pointing with + his other arm at the same time. + </p> + <p> + “There! That’s your ship, Captain,” he said. + </p> + <p> + I felt a thump in my breast—only one, as if my heart had then ceased + to beat. There were ten or more ships moored along the bank, and the one + he meant was partly hidden away from my sight by her next astern. He said: + “We’ll drift abreast her in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + What was his tone? Mocking? Threatening? Or only indifferent? I could not + tell. I suspected some malice in this unexpected manifestation of + interest. + </p> + <p> + He left me, and I leaned over the rail of the bridge looking over the + side. I dared not raise my eyes. Yet it had to be done—and, indeed, + I could not have helped myself. I believe I trembled. + </p> + <p> + But directly my eyes had rested on my ship all my fear vanished. It went + off swiftly, like a bad dream. Only that a dream leaves no shame behind + it, and that I felt a momentary shame at my unworthy suspicions. + </p> + <p> + Yes, there she was. Her hull, her rigging filled my eye with a great + content. That feeling of life-emptiness which had made me so restless for + the last few months lost its bitter plausibility, its evil influence, + dissolved in a flow of joyous emotion. + </p> + <p> + At first glance I saw that she was a high-class vessel, a harmonious + creature in the lines of her fine body, in the proportioned tallness of + her spars. Whatever her age and her history, she had preserved the stamp + of her origin. She was one of those craft that, in virtue of their design + and complete finish, will never look old. Amongst her companions moored to + the bank, and all bigger than herself, she looked like a creature of high + breed—an Arab steed in a string of cart-horses. + </p> + <p> + A voice behind me said in a nasty equivocal tone: “I hope you are + satisfied with her, Captain.” I did not even turn my head. It was the + master of the steamer, and whatever he meant, whatever he thought of her, + I knew that, like some rare women, she was one of those creatures whose + mere existence is enough to awaken an unselfish delight. One feels that it + is good to be in the world in which she has her being. + </p> + <p> + That illusion of life and character which charms one in men’s finest + handiwork radiated from her. An enormous bulk of teak-wood timber swung + over her hatchway; lifeless matter, looking heavier and bigger than + anything aboard of her. When they started lowering it the surge of the + tackle sent a quiver through her from water-line to the trucks up the fine + nerves of her rigging, as though she had shuddered at the weight. It + seemed cruel to load her so. . . . + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, putting my foot on her deck for the first time, I + received the feeling of deep physical satisfaction. Nothing could equal + the fullness of that moment, the ideal completeness of that emotional + experience which had come to me without the preliminary toil and + disenchantments of an obscure career. + </p> + <p> + My rapid glance ran over her, enveloped, appropriated the form concreting + the abstract sentiment of my command. A lot of details perceptible to a + seaman struck my eye, vividly in that instant. For the rest, I saw her + disengaged from the material conditions of her being. The shore to which + she was moored was as if it did not exist. What were to me all the + countries of the globe? In all the parts of the world washed by navigable + waters our relation to each other would be the same—and more + intimate than there are words to express in the language. Apart from that, + every scene and episode would be a mere passing show. The very gang of + yellow coolies busy about the main hatch was less substantial than the + stuff dreams are made of. For who on earth would dream of Chinamen? . . . + </p> + <p> + I went aft, ascended the poop, where, under the awning, gleamed the + brasses of the yacht-like fittings, the polished surfaces of the rails, + the glass of the skylights. Right aft two seamen, busy cleaning the + steering gear, with the reflected ripples of light running playfully up + their bent backs, went on with their work, unaware of me and of the almost + affectionate glance I threw at them in passing toward the companion-way of + the cabin. + </p> + <p> + The doors stood wide open, the slide was pushed right back. The half-turn + of the staircase cut off the view of the lobby. A low humming ascended + from below, but it stopped abruptly at the sound of my descending + footsteps. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + The first thing I saw down there was the upper part of a man’s body + projecting backward, as it were, from one of the doors at the foot of the + stairs. His eyes looked at me very wide and still. In one hand he held a + dinner plate, in the other a cloth. + </p> + <p> + “I am your new Captain,” I said quietly. + </p> + <p> + In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, he had got rid of the plate and + the cloth and jumped to open the cabin door. As soon as I passed into the + saloon he vanished, but only to reappear instantly, buttoning up a jacket + he had put on with the swiftness of a “quick-change” artist. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s the chief mate?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “In the hold, I think, sir. I saw him go down the after-hatch ten minutes + ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him I am on board.” + </p> + <p> + The mahogany table under the skylight shone in the twilight like a dark + pool of water. The sideboard, surmounted by a wide looking-glass in an + ormulu frame, had a marble top. It bore a pair of silver-plated lamps and + some other pieces—obviously a harbour display. The saloon itself was + panelled in two kinds of wood in the excellent simple taste prevailing + when the ship was built. + </p> + <p> + I sat down in the armchair at the head of the table—the captain’s + chair, with a small tell-tale compass swung above it—a mute reminder + of unremitting vigilance. + </p> + <p> + A succession of men had sat in that chair. I became aware of that thought + suddenly, vividly, as though each had left a little of himself between the + four walls of these ornate bulkheads; as if a sort of composite soul, the + soul of command, had whispered suddenly to mine of long days at sea and of + anxious moments. + </p> + <p> + “You, too!” it seemed to say, “you, too, shall taste of that peace and + that unrest in a searching intimacy with your own self—obscure as we + were and as supreme in the face of all the winds and all the seas, in an + immensity that receives no impress, preserves no memories, and keeps no + reckoning of lives.” + </p> + <p> + Deep within the tarnished ormulu frame, in the hot half-light sifted + through the awning, I saw my own face propped between my hands. And I + stared back at myself with the perfect detachment of distance, rather with + curiosity than with any other feeling, except of some sympathy for this + latest representative of what for all intents and purposes was a dynasty, + continuous not in blood indeed, but in its experience, in its training, in + its conception of duty, and in the blessed simplicity of its traditional + point of view on life. + </p> + <p> + It struck me that this quietly staring man whom I was watching, both as if + he were myself and somebody else, was not exactly a lonely figure. He had + his place in a line of men whom he did not know, of whom he had never + heard; but who were fashioned by the same influences, whose souls in + relation to their humble life’s work had no secrets for him. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I perceived that there was another man in the saloon, standing a + little on one side and looking intently at me. The chief mate. His long, + red moustache determined the character of his physiognomy, which struck me + as pugnacious in (strange to say) a ghastly sort of way. + </p> + <p> + How long had he been there looking at me, appraising me in my unguarded + day-dreaming state? I would have been more disconcerted if, having the + clock set in the top of the mirror-frame right in front of me, I had not + noticed that its long hand had hardly moved at all. + </p> + <p> + I could not have been in that cabin more than two minutes altogether. Say + three. . . . So he could not have been watching me more than a mere + fraction of a minute, luckily. Still, I regretted the occurrence. + </p> + <p> + But I showed nothing of it as I rose leisurely (it had to be leisurely) + and greeted him with perfect friendliness. + </p> + <p> + There was something reluctant and at the same time attentive in his + bearing. His name was Burns. We left the cabin and went round the ship + together. His face in the full light of day appeared very pale, meagre, + even haggard. Somehow I had a delicacy as to looking too often at him; his + eyes, on the contrary, remained fairly glued on my face. They were + greenish and had an expectant expression. + </p> + <p> + He answered all my questions readily enough, but my ear seemed to catch a + tone of unwillingness. The second officer, with three or four hands, was + busy forward. The mate mentioned his name and I nodded to him in passing. + He was very young. He struck me as rather a cub. + </p> + <p> + When we returned below, I sat down on one end of a deep, semi-circular, + or, rather, semi-oval settee, upholstered in red plush. It extended right + across the whole after-end of the cabin. Mr. Burns motioned to sit down, + dropped into one of the swivel-chairs round the table, and kept his eyes + on me as persistently as ever, and with that strange air as if all this + were make-believe and he expected me to get up, burst into a laugh, slap + him on the back, and vanish from the cabin. + </p> + <p> + There was an odd stress in the situation which began to make me + uncomfortable. I tried to react against this vague feeling. + </p> + <p> + “It’s only my inexperience,” I thought. + </p> + <p> + In the face of that man, several years, I judged, older than myself, I + became aware of what I had left already behind me—my youth. And that + was indeed poor comfort. Youth is a fine thing, a mighty power—as + long as one does not think of it. I felt I was becoming self-conscious. + Almost against my will I assumed a moody gravity. I said: “I see you have + kept her in very good order, Mr. Burns.” + </p> + <p> + Directly I had uttered these words I asked myself angrily why the deuce + did I want to say that? Mr. Burns in answer had only blinked at me. What + on earth did he mean? + </p> + <p> + I fell back on a question which had been in my thoughts for a long time—the + most natural question on the lips of any seaman whatever joining a ship. I + voiced it (confound this self-consciousness) in a degaged cheerful tone: + “I suppose she can travel—what?” + </p> + <p> + Now a question like this might have been answered normally, either in + accents of apologetic sorrow or with a visibly suppressed pride, in a “I + don’t want to boast, but you shall see,” sort of tone. There are sailors, + too, who would have been roughly outspoken: “Lazy brute,” or openly + delighted: “She’s a flyer.” Two ways, if four manners. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Burns found another way, a way of his own which had, at all + events, the merit of saving his breath, if no other. + </p> + <p> + Again he did not say anything. He only frowned. And it was an angry frown. + I waited. Nothing more came. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter? . . . Can’t you tell after being nearly two years in + the ship?” I addressed him sharply. + </p> + <p> + He looked as startled for a moment as though he had discovered my presence + only that very moment. But this passed off almost at once. He put on an + air of indifference. But I suppose he thought it better to say something. + He said that a ship needed, just like a man, the chance to show the best + she could do, and that this ship had never had a chance since he had been + on board of her. Not that he could remember. The last captain. . . . He + paused. + </p> + <p> + “Has he been so very unlucky?” I asked with frank incredulity. Mr. Burns + turned his eyes away from me. No, the late captain was not an unlucky man. + One couldn’t say that. But he had not seemed to want to make use of his + luck. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns—man of enigmatic moods—made this statement with an + inanimate face and staring wilfully at the rudder casing. The statement + itself was obscurely suggestive. I asked quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Where did he die?” + </p> + <p> + “In this saloon. Just where you are sitting now,” answered Mr. Burns. + </p> + <p> + I repressed a silly impulse to jump up; but upon the whole I was relieved + to hear that he had not died in the bed which was now to be mine. I + pointed out to the chief mate that what I really wanted to know was where + he had buried his late captain. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns said that it was at the entrance to the gulf. A roomy grave; a + sufficient answer. But the mate, overcoming visibly something within him—something + like a curious reluctance to believe in my advent (as an irrevocable fact, + at any rate), did not stop at that—though, indeed, he may have + wished to do so. + </p> + <p> + As a compromise with his feelings, I believe, he addressed himself + persistently to the rudder-casing, so that to me he had the appearance of + a man talking in solitude, a little unconsciously, however. + </p> + <p> + His tale was that at seven bells in the forenoon watch he had all hands + mustered on the quarterdeck and told them they had better go down to say + good-bye to the captain. + </p> + <p> + Those words, as if grudged to an intruding personage, were enough for me + to evoke vividly that strange ceremony: The bare-footed, bare-headed + seamen crowding shyly into that cabin, a small mob pressed against that + sideboard, uncomfortable rather than moved, shirts open on sunburnt + chests, weather-beaten faces, and all staring at the dying man with the + same grave and expectant expression. + </p> + <p> + “Was he conscious?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t speak, but he moved his eyes to look at them,” said the mate. + </p> + <p> + After waiting a moment, Mr. Burns motioned the crew to leave the cabin, + but he detained the two eldest men to stay with the captain while he went + on deck with his sextant to “take the sun.” It was getting toward noon and + he was anxious to obtain a good observation for latitude. When he returned + below to put his sextant away he found that the two men had retreated out + into the lobby. Through the open door he had a view of the captain lying + easy against the pillows. He had “passed away” while Mr. Burns was taking + this observation. As near noon as possible. He had hardly changed his + position. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns sighed, glanced at me inquisitively, as much as to say, “Aren’t + you going yet?” and then turned his thoughts from his new captain back to + the old, who, being dead, had no authority, was not in anybody’s way, and + was much easier to deal with. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns dealt with him at some length. He was a peculiar man—of + sixty-five about—iron gray, hard-faced, obstinate, and + uncommunicative. He used to keep the ship loafing at sea for inscrutable + reasons. Would come on deck at night sometimes, take some sail off her, + God only knows why or wherefore, then go below, shut himself up in his + cabin, and play on the violin for hours—till daybreak perhaps. In + fact, he spent most of his time day or night playing the violin. That was + when the fit took him. Very loud, too. + </p> + <p> + It came to this, that Mr. Burns mustered his courage one day and + remonstrated earnestly with the captain. Neither he nor the second mate + could get a wink of sleep in their watches below for the noise. . . . And + how could they be expected to keep awake while on duty? He pleaded. The + answer of that stern man was that if he and the second mate didn’t like + the noise, they were welcome to pack up their traps and walk over the + side. When this alternative was offered the ship happened to be 600 miles + from the nearest land. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns at this point looked at me with an air of curiosity. I began to + think that my predecessor was a remarkably peculiar old man. + </p> + <p> + But I had to hear stranger things yet. It came out that this stern, grim, + wind-tanned, rough, sea-salted, taciturn sailor of sixty-five was not only + an artist, but a lover as well. In Haiphong, when they got there after a + course of most unprofitable peregrinations (during which the ship was + nearly lost twice), he got himself, in Mr. Burns’ own words, “mixed up” + with some woman. Mr. Burns had had no personal knowledge of that affair, + but positive evidence of it existed in the shape of a photograph taken in + Haiphong. Mr. Burns found it in one of the drawers in the captain’s room. + </p> + <p> + In due course I, too, saw that amazing human document (I even threw it + overboard later). There he sat, with his hands reposing on his knees, + bald, squat, gray, bristly, recalling a wild boar somehow; and by his side + towered an awful mature, white female with rapacious nostrils and a + cheaply ill-omened stare in her enormous eyes. She was disguised in some + semi-oriental, vulgar, fancy costume. She resembled a low-class medium or + one of those women who tell fortunes by cards for half a crown. And yet + she was striking. A professional sorceress from the slums. It was + incomprehensible. There was something awful in the thought that she was + the last reflection of the world of passion for the fierce soul which + seemed to look at one out of the sardonically savage face of that old + seaman. However, I noticed that she was holding some musical instrument—guitar + or mandoline—in her hand. Perhaps that was the secret of her + sortilege. + </p> + <p> + For Mr. Burns that photograph explained why the unloaded ship had kept + sweltering at anchor for three weeks in a pestilential hot harbour without + air. They lay there and gasped. The captain, appearing now and then on + short visits, mumbled to Mr. Burns unlikely tales about some letters he + was waiting for. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, after vanishing for a week, he came on board in the middle of + the night and took the ship out to sea with the first break of dawn. + Daylight showed him looking wild and ill. The mere getting clear of the + land took two days, and somehow or other they bumped slightly on a reef. + However, no leak developed, and the captain, growling “no matter,” + informed Mr. Burns that he had made up his mind to take the ship to + Hong-Kong and drydock her there. + </p> + <p> + At this Mr. Burns was plunged into despair. For indeed, to beat up to + Hong-Kong against a fierce monsoon, with a ship not sufficiently ballasted + and with her supply of water not completed, was an insane project. + </p> + <p> + But the captain growled peremptorily, “Stick her at it,” and Mr. Burns, + dismayed and enraged, stuck her at it, and kept her at it, blowing away + sails, straining the spars, exhausting the crew—nearly maddened by + the absolute conviction that the attempt was impossible and was bound to + end in some catastrophe. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the captain, shut up in his cabin and wedged in a corner of his + settee against the crazy bounding of the ship, played the violin—or, + at any rate, made continuous noise on it. + </p> + <p> + When he appeared on deck he would not speak and not always answer when + spoken to. It was obvious that he was ill in some mysterious manner, and + beginning to break up. + </p> + <p> + As the days went by the sounds of the violin became less and less loud, + till at last only a feeble scratching would meet Mr. Burns’ ear as he + stood in the saloon listening outside the door of the captain’s + state-room. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon in perfect desperation he burst into that room and made such + a scene, tearing his hair and shouting such horrid imprecations that he + cowed the contemptuous spirit of the sick man. The water-tanks were low, + they had not gained fifty miles in a fortnight. She would never reach + Hong-Kong. + </p> + <p> + It was like fighting desperately toward destruction for the ship and the + men. This was evident without argument. Mr. Burns, losing all restraint, + put his face close to his captain’s and fairly yelled: “You, sir, are + going out of the world. But I can’t wait till you are dead before I put + the helm up. You must do it yourself. You must do it now!” + </p> + <p> + The man on the couch snarled in contempt. “So I am going out of the world—am + I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir—you haven’t many days left in it,” said Mr. Burns calming + down. “One can see it by your face.” + </p> + <p> + “My face, eh? . . . Well, put up the helm and be damned to you.” + </p> + <p> + Burns flew on deck, got the ship before the wind, then came down again + composed, but resolute. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve shaped a course for Pulo Condor, sir,” he said. “When we make it, if + you are still with us, you’ll tell me into what port you wish me to take + the ship and I’ll do it.” + </p> + <p> + The old man gave him a look of savage spite, and said those atrocious + words in deadly, slow tones. + </p> + <p> + “If I had my wish, neither the ship nor any of you would ever reach a + port. And I hope you won’t.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns was profoundly shocked. I believe he was positively frightened + at the time. It seems, however, that he managed to produce such an + effective laugh that it was the old man’s turn to be frightened. He shrank + within himself and turned his back on him. + </p> + <p> + “And his head was not gone then,” Mr. Burns assured me excitedly. “He + meant every word of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Such was practically the late captain’s last speech. No connected + sentence passed his lips afterward. That night he used the last of his + strength to throw his fiddle over the side. No one had actually seen him + in the act, but after his death Mr. Burns couldn’t find the thing + anywhere. The empty case was very much in evidence, but the fiddle was + clearly not in the ship. And where else could it have gone to but + overboard?” + </p> + <p> + “Threw his violin overboard!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “He did,” cried Mr. Burns excitedly. “And it’s my belief he would have + tried to take the ship down with him if it had been in human power. He + never meant her to see home again. He wouldn’t write to his owners, he + never wrote to his old wife, either—he wasn’t going to. He had made + up his mind to cut adrift from everything. That’s what it was. He didn’t + care for business, or freights, or for making a passage—or anything. + He meant to have gone wandering about the world till he lost her with all + hands.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns looked like a man who had escaped great danger. For a little he + would have exclaimed: “If it hadn’t been for me!” And the transparent + innocence of his indignant eyes was underlined quaintly by the arrogant + pair of moustaches which he proceeded to twist, and as if extend, + horizontally. + </p> + <p> + I might have smiled if I had not been busy with my own sensations, which + were not those of Mr. Burns. I was already the man in command. My + sensations could not be like those of any other man on board. In that + community I stood, like a king in his country, in a class all by myself. I + mean an hereditary king, not a mere elected head of a state. I was brought + there to rule by an agency as remote from the people and as inscrutable + almost to them as the Grace of God. + </p> + <p> + And like a member of a dynasty, feeling a semimystical bond with the dead, + I was profoundly shocked by my immediate predecessor. + </p> + <p> + That man had been in all essentials but his age just such another man as + myself. Yet the end of his life was a complete act of treason, the + betrayal of a tradition which seemed to me as imperative as any guide on + earth could be. It appeared that even at sea a man could become the victim + of evil spirits. I felt on my face the breath of unknown powers that shape + our destinies. + </p> + <p> + Not to let the silence last too long I asked Mr. Burns if he had written + to his captain’s wife. He shook his head. He had written to nobody. + </p> + <p> + In a moment he became sombre. He never thought of writing. It took him all + his time to watch incessantly the loading of the ship by a rascally + Chinese stevedore. In this Mr. Burns gave me the first glimpse of the real + chief mate’s soul which dwelt uneasily in his body. + </p> + <p> + He mused, then hastened on with gloomy force. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! The captain died as near noon as possible. I looked through his + papers in the afternoon. I read the service over him at sunset and then I + stuck the ship’s head north and brought her in here. I—brought—her—in.” + </p> + <p> + He struck the table with his fist. + </p> + <p> + “She would hardly have come in by herself,” I observed. “But why didn’t + you make for Singapore instead?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes wavered. “The nearest port,” he muttered sullenly. + </p> + <p> + I had framed the question in perfect innocence, but his answer (the + difference in distance was insignificant) and his manner offered me a clue + to the simple truth. He took the ship to a port where he expected to be + confirmed in his temporary command from lack of a qualified master to put + over his head. Whereas Singapore, he surmised justly, would be full of + qualified men. But his naive reasoning forgot to take into account the + telegraph cable reposing on the bottom of the very Gulf up which he had + turned that ship which he imagined himself to have saved from destruction. + Hence the bitter flavour of our interview. I tasted it more and more + distinctly—and it was less and less to my taste. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Mr. Burns,” I began very firmly. “You may as well understand + that I did not run after this command. It was pushed in my way. I’ve + accepted it. I am here to take the ship home first of all, and you may be + sure that I shall see to it that every one of you on board here does his + duty to that end. This is all I have to say—for the present.” + </p> + <p> + He was on his feet by this time, but instead of taking his dismissal he + remained with trembling, indignant lips, and looking at me hard as though, + really, after this, there was nothing for me to do in common decency but + to vanish from his outraged sight. Like all very simple emotional states + this was moving. I felt sorry for him—almost sympathetic, till + (seeing that I did not vanish) he spoke in a tone of forced restraint. + </p> + <p> + “If I hadn’t a wife and a child at home you may be sure, sir, I would have + asked you to let me go the very minute you came on board.” + </p> + <p> + I answered him with a matter-of-course calmness as though some remote + third person were in question. + </p> + <p> + “And I, Mr. Burns, would not have let you go. You have signed the ship’s + articles as chief officer, and till they are terminated at the final port + of discharge I shall expect you to attend to your duty and give me the + benefit of your experience to the best of your ability.” + </p> + <p> + Stony incredulity lingered in his eyes: but it broke down before my + friendly attitude. With a slight upward toss of his arms (I got to know + that gesture well afterward) he bolted out of the cabin. + </p> + <p> + We might have saved ourselves that little passage of harmless sparring. + Before many days had elapsed it was Mr. Burns who was pleading with me + anxiously not to leave him behind; while I could only return him but + doubtful answers. The whole thing took on a somewhat tragic complexion. + </p> + <p> + And this horrible problem was only an extraneous episode, a mere + complication in the general problem of how to get that ship—which + was mine with her appurtenances and her men, with her body and her spirit + now slumbering in that pestilential river—how to get her out to sea. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns, while still acting captain, had hastened to sign a + charter-party which in an ideal world without guile would have been an + excellent document. Directly I ran my eye over it I foresaw trouble ahead + unless the people of the other part were quite exceptionally fair-minded + and open to argument. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns, to whom I imparted my fears, chose to take great umbrage at + them. He looked at me with that usual incredulous stare, and said + bitterly: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose, sir, you want to make out I’ve acted like a fool?” + </p> + <p> + I told him, with my systematic kindliness which always seemed to augment + his surprise, that I did not want to make out anything. I would leave that + to the future. + </p> + <p> + And, sure enough, the future brought in a lot of trouble. There were days + when I used to remember Captain Giles with nothing short of abhorrence. + His confounded acuteness had let me in for this job; while his prophecy + that I “would have my hands full” coming true, made it appear as if done + on purpose to play an evil joke on my young innocence. + </p> + <p> + Yes. I had my hands full of complications which were most valuable as + “experience.” People have a great opinion of the advantages of experience. + But in this connection experience means always something disagreeable as + opposed to the charm and innocence of illusions. + </p> + <p> + I must say I was losing mine rapidly. But on these instructive + complications I must not enlarge more than to say that they could all be + resumed in the one word: Delay. + </p> + <p> + A mankind which has invented the proverb, “Time is money,” will understand + my vexation. The word “Delay” entered the secret chamber of my brain, + resounded there like a tolling bell which maddens the ear, affected all my + senses, took on a black colouring, a bitter taste, a deadly meaning. + </p> + <p> + “I am really sorry to see you worried like this. Indeed, I am. . . .” + </p> + <p> + It was the only humane speech I used to hear at that time. And it came + from a doctor, appropriately enough. + </p> + <p> + A doctor is humane by definition. But that man was so in reality. His + speech was not professional. I was not ill. But other people were, and + that was the reason of his visiting the ship. + </p> + <p> + He was the doctor of our Legation and, of course, of the Consulate, too. + He looked after the ship’s health, which generally was poor, and + trembling, as it were, on the verge of a break-up. Yes. The men ailed. And + thus time was not only money, but life as well. + </p> + <p> + I had never seen such a steady ship’s company. As the doctor remarked to + me: “You seem to have a most respectable lot of seamen.” Not only were + they consistently sober, but they did not even want to go ashore. Care was + taken to expose them as little as possible to the sun. They were employed + on light work under the awnings. And the humane doctor commended me. + </p> + <p> + “Your arrangements appear to me to be very judicious, my dear Captain.” + </p> + <p> + It is difficult to express how much that pronouncement comforted me. The + doctor’s round, full face framed in a light-coloured whisker was the + perfection of a dignified amenity. He was the only human being in the + world who seemed to take the slightest interest in me. He would generally + sit in the cabin for half an hour or so at every visit. + </p> + <p> + I said to him one day: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose the only thing now is to take care of them as you are doing + till I can get the ship to sea?” + </p> + <p> + He inclined his head, shutting his eyes under the large spectacles, and + murmured: + </p> + <p> + “The sea . . . undoubtedly.” + </p> + <p> + The first member of the crew fairly knocked over was the steward—the + first man to whom I had spoken on board. He was taken ashore (with + choleric symptoms) and died there at the end of a week. Then, while I was + still under the startling impression of this first home-thrust of the + climate, Mr. Burns gave up and went to bed in a raging fever without + saying a word to anybody. + </p> + <p> + I believe he had partly fretted himself into that illness; the climate did + the rest with the swiftness of an invisible monster ambushed in the air, + in the water, in the mud of the river-bank. Mr. Burns was a predestined + victim. + </p> + <p> + I discovered him lying on his back, glaring sullenly and radiating heat on + one like a small furnace. He would hardly answer my questions, and only + grumbled. Couldn’t a man take an afternoon off duty with a bad headache—for + once? + </p> + <p> + That evening, as I sat in the saloon after dinner, I could hear him + muttering continuously in his room. Ransome, who was clearing the table, + said to me: + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, sir, I won’t be able to give the mate all the attention he’s + likely to need. I will have to be forward in the galley a great part of my + time.” + </p> + <p> + Ransome was the cook. The mate had pointed him out to me the first day, + standing on the deck, his arms crossed on his broad chest, gazing on the + river. + </p> + <p> + Even at a distance his well-proportioned figure, something thoroughly + sailor-like in his poise, made him noticeable. On nearer view the + intelligent, quiet eyes, a well-bred face, the disciplined independence of + his manner made up an attractive personality. When, in addition, Mr. Burns + told me that he was the best seaman in the ship, I expressed my surprise + that in his earliest prime and of such appearance he should sign on as + cook on board a ship. + </p> + <p> + “It’s his heart,” Mr. Burns had said. “There’s something wrong with it. He + mustn’t exert himself too much or he may drop dead suddenly.” + </p> + <p> + And he was the only one the climate had not touched—perhaps because, + carrying a deadly enemy in his breast, he had schooled himself into a + systematic control of feelings and movements. When one was in the secret + this was apparent in his manner. After the poor steward died, and as he + could not be replaced by a white man in this Oriental port, Ransome had + volunteered to do the double work. + </p> + <p> + “I can do it all right, sir, as long as I go about it quietly,” he had + assured me. + </p> + <p> + But obviously he couldn’t be expected to take up sick-nursing in addition. + Moreover, the doctor peremptorily ordered Mr. Burns ashore. + </p> + <p> + With a seaman on each side holding him up under the arms, the mate went + over the gangway more sullen than ever. We built him up with pillows in + the gharry, and he made an effort to say brokenly: + </p> + <p> + “Now—you’ve got—what you wanted—got me out of—the + ship.” + </p> + <p> + “You were never more mistaken in your life, Mr. Burns,” I said quietly, + duly smiling at him; and the trap drove off to a sort of sanatorium, a + pavilion of bricks which the doctor had in the grounds of his residence. + </p> + <p> + I visited Mr. Burns regularly. After the first few days, when he didn’t + know anybody, he received me as if I had come either to gloat over an + enemy or else to curry favour with a deeply wronged person. It was either + one or the other, just as it happened according to his fantastic sickroom + moods. Whichever it was, he managed to convey it to me even during the + period when he appeared almost too weak to talk. I treated him to my + invariable kindliness. + </p> + <p> + Then one day, suddenly, a surge of downright panic burst through all this + craziness. + </p> + <p> + If I left him behind in this deadly place he would die. He felt it, he was + certain of it. But I wouldn’t have the heart to leave him ashore. He had a + wife and child in Sydney. + </p> + <p> + He produced his wasted forearms from under the sheet which covered him and + clasped his fleshless claws. He would die! He would die here. . . . + </p> + <p> + He absolutely managed to sit up, but only for a moment, and when he fell + back I really thought that he would die there and then. I called to the + Bengali dispenser, and hastened away from the room. + </p> + <p> + Next day he upset me thoroughly by renewing his entreaties. I returned an + evasive answer, and left him the picture of ghastly despair. The day after + I went in with reluctance, and he attacked me at once in a much stronger + voice and with an abundance of argument which was quite startling. He + presented his case with a sort of crazy vigour, and asked me finally how + would I like to have a man’s death on my conscience? He wanted me to + promise that I would not sail without him. + </p> + <p> + I said that I really must consult the doctor first. He cried out at that. + The doctor! Never! That would be a death sentence. + </p> + <p> + The effort had exhausted him. He closed his eyes, but went on rambling in + a low voice. I had hated him from the start. The late captain had hated + him, too. Had wished him dead. Had wished all hands dead. . . . + </p> + <p> + “What do you want to stand in with that wicked corpse for, sir? He’ll have + you, too,” he ended, blinking his glazed eyes vacantly. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Burns,” I cried, very much discomposed, “what on earth are you + talking about?” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to come to himself, though he was too weak to start. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” he said languidly. “But don’t ask that doctor, sir. You + and I are sailors. Don’t ask him, sir. Some day perhaps you will have a + wife and child yourself.” + </p> + <p> + And again he pleaded for the promise that I would not leave him behind. I + had the firmness of mind not to give it to him. Afterward this sternness + seemed criminal; for my mind was made up. That prostrated man, with hardly + strength enough to breathe and ravaged by a passion of fear, was + irresistible. And, besides, he had happened to hit on the right words. He + and I were sailors. That was a claim, for I had no other family. As to the + wife and child (some day) argument, it had no force. It sounded merely + bizarre. + </p> + <p> + I could imagine no claim that would be stronger and more absorbing than + the claim of that ship, of these men snared in the river by silly + commercial complications, as if in some poisonous trap. + </p> + <p> + However, I had nearly fought my way out. Out to sea. The sea—which + was pure, safe, and friendly. Three days more. + </p> + <p> + That thought sustained and carried me on my way back to the ship. In the + saloon the doctor’s voice greeted me, and his large form followed his + voice, issuing out of the starboard spare cabin where the ship’s medicine + chest was kept securely lashed in the bed-place. + </p> + <p> + Finding that I was not on board he had gone in there, he said, to inspect + the supply of drugs, bandages, and so on. Everything was completed and in + order. + </p> + <p> + I thanked him; I had just been thinking of asking him to do that very + thing, as in a couple of days, as he knew, we were going to sea, where all + our troubles of every sort would be over at last. + </p> + <p> + He listened gravely and made no answer. But when I opened to him my mind + as to Mr. Burns he sat down by my side, and, laying his hand on my knee + amicably, begged me to think what it was I was exposing myself to. + </p> + <p> + The man was just strong enough to bear being moved and no more. But he + couldn’t stand a return of the fever. I had before me a passage of sixty + days perhaps, beginning with intricate navigation and ending probably with + a lot of bad weather. Could I run the risk of having to go through it + single-handed, with no chief officer and with a second quite a youth? . . + . + </p> + <p> + He might have added that it was my first command, too. He did probably + think of that fact, for he checked himself. It was very present to my + mind. + </p> + <p> + He advised me earnestly to cable to Singapore for a chief officer, even if + I had to delay my sailing for a week. + </p> + <p> + “Never,” I said. The very thought gave me the shivers. The hands seemed + fairly fit, all of them, and this was the time to get them away. Once at + sea I was not afraid of facing anything. The sea was now the only remedy + for all my troubles. + </p> + <p> + The doctor’s glasses were directed at me like two lamps searching the + genuineness of my resolution. He opened his lips as if to argue further, + but shut them again without saying anything. I had a vision so vivid of + poor Burns in his exhaustion, helplessness, and anguish, that it moved me + more than the reality I had come away from only an hour before. It was + purged from the drawbacks of his personality, and I could not resist it. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” I said. “Unless you tell me officially that the man must not + be moved I’ll make arrangements to have him brought on board tomorrow, and + shall take the ship out of the river next morning, even if I have to + anchor outside the bar for a couple of days to get her ready for sea.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I’ll make all the arrangements myself,” said the doctor at once. “I + spoke as I did only as a friend—as a well-wisher, and that sort of + thing.” + </p> + <p> + He rose in his dignified simplicity and gave me a warm handshake, rather + solemnly, I thought. But he was as good as his word. When Mr. Burns + appeared at the gangway carried on a stretcher, the doctor himself walked + by its side. The programme had been altered in so far that this + transportation had been left to the last moment, on the very morning of + our departure. + </p> + <p> + It was barely an hour after sunrise. The doctor waved his big arm to me + from the shore and walked back at once to his trap, which had followed him + empty to the river-side. Mr. Burns, carried across the quarter-deck, had + the appearance of being absolutely lifeless. Ransome went down to settle + him in his cabin. I had to remain on deck to look after the ship, for the + tug had got hold of our towrope already. + </p> + <p> + The splash of our shore-fasts falling in the water produced a complete + change of feeling in me. It was like the imperfect relief of awakening + from a nightmare. But when the ship’s head swung down the river away from + that town, Oriental and squalid, I missed the expected elation of that + striven-for moment. What there was, undoubtedly, was a relaxation of + tension which translated itself into a sense of weariness after an + inglorious fight. + </p> + <p> + About midday we anchored a mile outside the bar. The afternoon was busy + for all hands. Watching the work from the poop, where I remained all the + time, I detected in it some of the languor of the six weeks spent in the + steaming heat of the river. The first breeze would blow that away. Now the + calm was complete. I judged that the second officer—a callow youth + with an unpromising face—was not, to put it mildly, of that + invaluable stuff from which a commander’s right hand is made. But I was + glad to catch along the main deck a few smiles on those seamen’s faces at + which I had hardly had time to have a good look as yet. Having thrown off + the mortal coil of shore affairs, I felt myself familiar with them and yet + a little strange, like a long-lost wanderer among his kin. + </p> + <p> + Ransome flitted continually to and fro between the galley and the cabin. + It was a pleasure to look at him. The man positively had grace. He alone + of all the crew had not had a day’s illness in port. But with the + knowledge of that uneasy heart within his breast I could detect the + restraint he put on the natural sailor-like agility of his movements. It + was as though he had something very fragile or very explosive to carry + about his person and was all the time aware of it. + </p> + <p> + I had occasion to address him once or twice. He answered me in his + pleasant, quiet voice and with a faint, slightly wistful smile. Mr. Burns + appeared to be resting. He seemed fairly comfortable. + </p> + <p> + After sunset I came out on deck again to meet only a still void. The thin, + featureless crust of the coast could not be distinguished. The darkness + had risen around the ship like a mysterious emanation from the dumb and + lonely waters. I leaned on the rail and turned my ear to the shadows of + the night. Not a sound. My command might have been a planet flying + vertiginously on its appointed path in a space of infinite silence. I + clung to the rail as if my sense of balance were leaving me for good. How + absurd. I failed nervously. + </p> + <p> + “On deck there!” + </p> + <p> + The immediate answer, “Yes, sir,” broke the spell. The anchor-watch man + ran up the poop ladder smartly. I told him to report at once the slightest + sign of a breeze coming. + </p> + <p> + Going below I looked in on Mr. Burns. In fact, I could not avoid seeing + him, for his door stood open. The man was so wasted that, in this white + cabin, under a white sheet, and with his diminished head sunk in the white + pillow, his red moustaches captured their eyes exclusively, like something + artificial—a pair of moustaches from a shop exhibited there in the + harsh light of the bulkhead-lamp without a shade. + </p> + <p> + While I stared with a sort of wonder he asserted himself by opening his + eyes and even moving them in my direction. A minute stir. + </p> + <p> + “Dead calm, Mr. Burns,” I said resignedly. + </p> + <p> + In an unexpectedly distinct voice Mr. Burns began a rambling speech. Its + tone was very strange, not as if affected by his illness, but as if of a + different nature. It sounded unearthly. As to the matter, I seemed to make + out that it was the fault of the “old man”—the late captain—ambushed + down there under the sea with some evil intention. It was a weird story. + </p> + <p> + I listened to the end; then stepping into the cabin I laid my hand on the + mate’s forehead. It was cool. He was light-headed only from extreme + weakness. Suddenly he seemed to become aware of me, and in his own voice—of + course, very feeble—he asked regretfully: + </p> + <p> + “Is there no chance at all to get under way, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the good of letting go our hold of the ground only to drift, Mr. + Burns?” I answered. + </p> + <p> + He sighed and I left him to his immobility. His hold on life was as + slender as his hold on sanity. I was oppressed by my lonely + responsibilities. I went into my cabin to seek relief in a few hours’ + sleep, but almost before I closed my eyes the man on deck came down + reporting a light breeze. Enough to get under way with, he said. + </p> + <p> + And it was no more than just enough. I ordered the windlass manned, the + sails loosed, and the topsails set. But by the time I had cast the ship I + could hardly feel any breath of wind. Nevertheless, I trimmed the yards + and put everything on her. I was not going to give up the attempt. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART TWO + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + With her anchor at the bow and clothed in canvas to her very trucks, my + command seemed to stand as motionless as a model ship set on the gleams + and shadows of polished marble. It was impossible to distinguish land from + water in the enigmatical tranquillity of the immense forces of the world. + A sudden impatience possessed me. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t she answer the helm at all?” I said irritably to the man whose + strong brown hands grasping the spokes of the wheel stood out lighted on + the darkness; like a symbol of mankind’s claim to the direction of its own + fate. + </p> + <p> + He answered me. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. She’s coming-to slowly.” + </p> + <p> + “Let her head come up to south.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, aye, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I paced the poop. There was not a sound but that of my footsteps, till the + man spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “She is at south now, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I felt a slight tightness of the chest before I gave out the first course + of my first command to the silent night, heavy with dew and sparkling with + stars. There was a finality in the act committing me to the endless + vigilance of my lonely task. + </p> + <p> + “Steady her head at that,” I said at last. “The course is south.” + </p> + <p> + “South, sir,” echoed the man. + </p> + <p> + I sent below the second mate and his watch and remained in charge, walking + the deck through the chill, somnolent hours that precede the dawn. + </p> + <p> + Slight puffs came and went, and whenever they were strong enough to wake + up the black water the murmur alongside ran through my very heart in a + delicate crescendo of delight and died away swiftly. I was bitterly tired. + The very stars seemed weary of waiting for daybreak. It came at last with + a mother-of-pearl sheen at the zenith, such as I had never seen before in + the tropics, unglowing, almost gray, with a strange reminder of high + latitudes. + </p> + <p> + The voice of the look-out man hailed from forward: + </p> + <p> + “Land on the port bow, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All right.” + </p> + <p> + Leaning on the rail I never even raised my eyes. + </p> + <p> + The motion of the ship was imperceptible. Presently Ransome brought me the + cup of morning coffee. After I had drunk it I looked ahead, and in the + still streak of very bright pale orange light I saw the land profiled + flatly as if cut out of black paper and seeming to float on the water as + light as cork. But the rising sun turned it into mere dark vapour, a + doubtful, massive shadow trembling in the hot glare. + </p> + <p> + The watch finished washing decks. I went below and stopped at Mr. Burns’ + door (he could not bear to have it shut), but hesitated to speak to him + till he moved his eyes. I gave him the news. + </p> + <p> + “Sighted Cape Liant at daylight. About fifteen miles.” + </p> + <p> + He moved his lips then, but I heard no sound till I put my ear down, and + caught the peevish comment: “This is crawling. . . . No luck.” + </p> + <p> + “Better luck than standing still, anyhow,” I pointed out resignedly, and + left him to whatever thoughts or fancies haunted his awful immobility. + </p> + <p> + Later that morning, when relieved by my second officer, I threw myself on + my couch and for some three hours or so I really found oblivion. It was so + perfect that on waking up I wondered where I was. Then came the immense + relief of the thought: on board my ship! At sea! At sea! + </p> + <p> + Through the port-holes I beheld an unruffled, sun-smitten horizon. The + horizon of a windless day. But its spaciousness alone was enough to give + me a sense of a fortunate escape, a momentary exultation of freedom. + </p> + <p> + I stepped out into the saloon with my heart lighter than it had been for + days. Ransome was at the sideboard preparing to lay the table for the + first sea dinner of the passage. He turned his head, and something in his + eyes checked my modest elation. + </p> + <p> + Instinctively I asked: “What is it now?” not expecting in the least the + answer I got. It was given with that sort of contained serenity which was + characteristic of the man. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid we haven’t left all sickness behind us, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “We haven’t! What’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + He told me then that two of our men had been taken bad with fever in the + night. One of them was burning and the other was shivering, but he thought + that it was pretty much the same thing. I thought so, too. I felt shocked + by the news. “One burning, the other shivering, you say? No. We haven’t + left the sickness behind. Do they look very ill?” + </p> + <p> + “Middling bad, sir.” Ransome’s eyes gazed steadily into mine. We exchanged + smiles. Ransome’s a little wistful, as usual, mine no doubt grim enough, + to correspond with my secret exasperation. + </p> + <p> + I asked: + </p> + <p> + “Was there any wind at all this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Can hardly say that, sir. We’ve moved all the time though. The land ahead + seems a little nearer.” + </p> + <p> + That was it. A little nearer. Whereas if we had only had a little more + wind, only a very little more, we might, we should, have been abreast of + Liant by this time and increasing our distance from that contaminated + shore. And it was not only the distance. It seemed to me that a stronger + breeze would have blown away the contamination which clung to the ship. It + obviously did cling to the ship. Two men. One burning, one shivering. I + felt a distinct reluctance to go and look at them. What was the good? + Poison is poison. Tropical fever is tropical fever. But that it should + have stretched its claw after us over the sea seemed to me an + extraordinary and unfair license. I could hardly believe that it could be + anything worse than the last desperate pluck of the evil from which we + were escaping into the clean breath of the sea. If only that breath had + been a little stronger. However, there was the quinine against the fever. + I went into the spare cabin where the medicine chest was kept to prepare + two doses. I opened it full of faith as a man opens a miraculous shrine. + The upper part was inhabited by a collection of bottles, all + square-shouldered and as like each other as peas. Under that orderly array + there were two drawers, stuffed as full of things as one could imagine—paper + packages, bandages, cardboard boxes officially labelled. The lower of the + two, in one of its compartments, contained our provision of quinine. + </p> + <p> + There were five bottles, all round and all of a size. One was about a + third full. The other four remained still wrapped up in paper and sealed. + But I did not expect to see an envelope lying on top of them. A square + envelope, belonging, in fact, to the ship’s stationery. + </p> + <p> + It lay so that I could see it was not closed down, and on picking it up + and turning it over I perceived that it was addressed to myself. It + contained a half-sheet of notepaper, which I unfolded with a queer sense + of dealing with the uncanny, but without any excitement as people meet and + do extraordinary things in a dream. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Captain,” it began, but I ran to the signature. The writer was + the doctor. The date was that of the day on which, returning from my visit + to Mr. Burns in the hospital, I had found the excellent doctor waiting for + me in the cabin; and when he told me that he had been putting in time + inspecting the medicine chest for me. How bizarre! While expecting me to + come in at any moment he had been amusing himself by writing me a letter, + and then as I came in had hastened to stuff it into the medicine-chest + drawer. A rather incredible proceeding. I turned to the text in wonder. + </p> + <p> + In a large, hurried, but legible hand the good, sympathetic man for some + reason, either of kindness or more likely impelled by the irresistible + desire to express his opinion, with which he didn’t want to damp my hopes + before, was warning me not to put my trust in the beneficial effects of a + change from land to sea. “I didn’t want to add to your worries by + discouraging your hopes,” he wrote. “I am afraid that, medically speaking, + the end of your troubles is not yet.” In short, he expected me to have to + fight a probable return of tropical illness. Fortunately I had a good + provision of quinine. I should put my trust in that, and administer it + steadily, when the ship’s health would certainly improve. + </p> + <p> + I crumpled up the letter and rammed it into my pocket. Ransome carried off + two big doses to the men forward. As to myself, I did not go on deck as + yet. I went instead to the door of Mr. Burns’ room, and gave him that + news, too. + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to say the effect it had on him. At first I thought that + he was speechless. His head lay sunk in the pillow. He moved his lips + enough, however, to assure me that he was getting much stronger; a + statement shockingly untrue on the face of it. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon I took my watch as a matter of course. A great over-heated + stillness enveloped the ship and seemed to hold her motionless in a + flaming ambience composed in two shades of blue. Faint, hot puffs eddied + nervelessly from her sails. And yet she moved. She must have. For, as the + sun was setting, we had drawn abreast of Cape Liant and dropped it behind + us: an ominous retreating shadow in the last gleams of twilight. + </p> + <p> + In the evening, under the crude glare of his lamp, Mr. Burns seemed to + have come more to the surface of his bedding. It was as if a depressing + hand had been lifted off him. He answered my few words by a comparatively + long, connected speech. He asserted himself strongly. If he escaped being + smothered by this stagnant heat, he said, he was confident that in a very + few days he would be able to come up on deck and help me. + </p> + <p> + While he was speaking I trembled lest this effort of energy should leave + him lifeless before my eyes. But I cannot deny that there was something + comforting in his willingness. I made a suitable reply, but pointed out to + him that the only thing that could really help us was wind—a fair + wind. + </p> + <p> + He rolled his head impatiently on the pillow. And it was not comforting in + the least to hear him begin to mutter crazily about the late captain, that + old man buried in latitude 8 d 20’, right in our way—ambushed at the + entrance of the Gulf. + </p> + <p> + “Are you still thinking of your late captain, Mr. Burns?” I said. “I + imagine the dead feel no animosity against the living. They care nothing + for them.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know that one,” he breathed out feebly. + </p> + <p> + “No. I didn’t know him, and he didn’t know me. And so he can’t have any + grievance against me, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But there’s all the rest of us on board,” he insisted. + </p> + <p> + I felt the inexpugnable strength of common sense being insidiously menaced + by this gruesome, by this insane, delusion. And I said: + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t talk so much. You will tire yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “And there is the ship herself,” he persisted in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Now, not a word more,” I said, stepping in and laying my hand on his cool + forehead. It proved to me that this atrocious absurdity was rooted in the + man himself and not in the disease, which, apparently, had emptied him of + every power, mental and physical, except that one fixed idea. + </p> + <p> + I avoided giving Mr. Burns any opening for conversation for the next few + days. I merely used to throw him a hasty, cheery word when passing his + door. I believe that if he had had the strength he would have called out + after me more than once. But he hadn’t the strength. Ransome, however, + observed to me one afternoon that the mate “seemed to be picking up + wonderfully.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he talk any nonsense to you of late?” I asked casually. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” Ransome was startled by the direct question; but, after a + pause, he added equably: “He told me this morning, sir, that he was sorry + he had to bury our late captain right in the ship’s way, as one may say, + out of the Gulf.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t this nonsense enough for you?” I asked, looking confidently at the + intelligent, quiet face on which the secret uneasiness in the man’s breast + had thrown a transparent veil of care. + </p> + <p> + Ransome didn’t know. He had not given a thought to the matter. And with a + faint smile he flitted away from me on his never-ending duties, with his + usual guarded activity. + </p> + <p> + Two more days passed. We had advanced a little way—a very little way—into + the larger space of the Gulf of Siam. Seizing eagerly upon the elation of + the first command thrown into my lap, by the agency of Captain Giles, I + had yet an uneasy feeling that such luck as this has got perhaps to be + paid for in some way. I had held, professionally, a review of my chances. + I was competent enough for that. At least, I thought so. I had a general + sense of my preparedness which only a man pursuing a calling he loves can + know. That feeling seemed to me the most natural thing in the world. As + natural as breathing. I imagined I could not have lived without it. + </p> + <p> + I don’t know what I expected. Perhaps nothing else than that special + intensity of existence which is the quintessence of youthful aspirations. + Whatever I expected I did not expect to be beset by hurricanes. I knew + better than that. In the Gulf of Siam there are no hurricanes. But neither + did I expect to find myself bound hand and foot to the hopeless extent + which was revealed to me as the days went on. + </p> + <p> + Not that the evil spell held us always motionless. Mysterious currents + drifted us here and there, with a stealthy power made manifest only by the + changing vistas of the islands fringing the east shore of the Gulf. And + there were winds, too, fitful and deceitful. They raised hopes only to + dash them into the bitterest disappointment, promises of advance ending in + lost ground, expiring in sighs, dying into dumb stillness in which the + currents had it all their own way—their own inimical way. + </p> + <p> + The island of Koh-ring, a great, black, upheaved ridge amongst a lot of + tiny islets, lying upon the glassy water like a triton amongst minnows, + seemed to be the centre of the fatal circle. It seemed impossible to get + away from it. Day after day it remained in sight. More than once, in a + favourable breeze, I would take its bearings in the fast-ebbing twilight, + thinking that it was for the last time. Vain hope. A night of fitful airs + would undo the gains of temporary favour, and the rising sun would throw + out the black relief of Koh-ring looking more barren, inhospitable, and + grim than ever. + </p> + <p> + “It’s like being bewitched, upon my word,” I said once to Mr. Burns, from + my usual position in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + He was sitting up in his bed-place. He was progressing toward the world of + living men; if he could hardly have been said to have rejoined it yet. He + nodded to me his frail and bony head in a wisely mysterious assent. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I know what you mean,” I said. “But you cannot expect me to + believe that a dead man has the power to put out of joint the meteorology + of this part of the world. Though indeed it seems to have gone utterly + wrong. The land and sea breezes have got broken up into small pieces. We + cannot depend upon them for five minutes together.” + </p> + <p> + “It won’t be very long now before I can come up on deck,” muttered Mr. + Burns, “and then we shall see.” + </p> + <p> + Whether he meant this for a promise to grapple with supernatural evil I + couldn’t tell. At any rate, it wasn’t the kind of assistance I needed. On + the other hand, I had been living on deck practically night and day so as + to take advantage of every chance to get my ship a little more to the + southward. The mate, I could see, was extremely weak yet, and not quite + rid of his delusion, which to me appeared but a symptom of his disease. At + all events, the hopefulness of an invalid was not to be discouraged. I + said: + </p> + <p> + “You will be most welcome there, I am sure, Mr. Burns. If you go on + improving at this rate you’ll be presently one of the healthiest men in + the ship.” + </p> + <p> + This pleased him, but his extreme emaciation converted his self-satisfied + smile into a ghastly exhibition of long teeth under the red moustache. + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t the fellows improving, sir?” he asked soberly, with an extremely + sensible expression of anxiety on his face. + </p> + <p> + I answered him only with a vague gesture and went away from the door. The + fact was that disease played with us capriciously very much as the winds + did. It would go from one man to another with a lighter or heavier touch, + which always left its mark behind, staggering some, knocking others over + for a time, leaving this one, returning to another, so that all of them + had now an invalidish aspect and a hunted, apprehensive look in their + eyes; while Ransome and I, the only two completely untouched, went amongst + them assiduously distributing quinine. It was a double fight. The adverse + weather held us in front and the disease pressed on our rear. I must say + that the men were very good. The constant toil of trimming yards they + faced willingly. But all spring was out of their limbs, and as I looked at + them from the poop I could not keep from my mind the dreadful impression + that they were moving in poisoned air. + </p> + <p> + Down below, in his cabin, Mr. Burns had advanced so far as not only to be + able to sit up, but even to draw up his legs. Clasping them with bony + arms, like an animated skeleton, he emitted deep, impatient sighs. + </p> + <p> + “The great thing to do, sir,” he would tell me on every occasion, when I + gave him the chance, “the great thing is to get the ship past 8 d 20’ of + latitude. Once she’s past that we’re all right.” + </p> + <p> + At first I used only to smile at him, though, God knows, I had not much + heart left for smiles. But at last I lost my patience. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. The latitude 8 d 20’. That’s where you buried your late captain, + isn’t it?” Then with severity: “Don’t you think, Mr. Burns, it’s about + time you dropped all that nonsense?” + </p> + <p> + He rolled at me his deep-sunken eyes in a glance of invincible obstinacy. + But for the rest he only muttered, just loud enough for me to hear, + something about “Not surprised . . . find . . . play us some beastly trick + yet. . . .” + </p> + <p> + Such passages as this were not exactly wholesome for my resolution. The + stress of adversity was beginning to tell on me. At the same time, I felt + a contempt for that obscure weakness of my soul. I said to myself + disdainfully that it should take much more than that to affect in the + smallest degree my fortitude. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t know then how soon and from what unexpected direction it would be + attacked. + </p> + <p> + It was the very next day. The sun had risen clear of the southern shoulder + of Koh-ring, which still hung, like an evil attendant, on our port + quarter. It was intensely hateful to my sight. During the night we had + been heading all round the compass, trimming the yards again and again, to + what I fear must have been for the most part imaginary puffs of air. Then + just about sunrise we got for an hour an inexplicable, steady breeze, + right in our teeth. There was no sense in it. It fitted neither with the + season of the year nor with the secular experience of seamen as recorded + in books, nor with the aspect of the sky. Only purposeful malevolence + could account for it. It sent us travelling at a great pace away from our + proper course; and if we had been out on pleasure sailing bent it would + have been a delightful breeze, with the awakened sparkle of the sea, with + the sense of motion and a feeling of unwonted freshness. Then, all at + once, as if disdaining to carry farther the sorry jest, it dropped and + died out completely in less than five minutes. The ship’s head swung where + it listed; the stilled sea took on the polish of a steel plate in the + calm. + </p> + <p> + I went below, not because I meant to take some rest, but simply because I + couldn’t bear to look at it just then. The indefatigable Ransome was busy + in the saloon. It had become a regular practice with him to give me an + informal health report in the morning. He turned away from the sideboard + with his usual pleasant, quiet gaze. No shadow rested on his intelligent + forehead. + </p> + <p> + “There are a good many of them middling bad this morning, sir,” he said in + a calm tone. + </p> + <p> + “What? All knocked out?” + </p> + <p> + “Only two actually in their bunks, sir, but—” + </p> + <p> + “It’s the last night that has done for them. We have had to pull and haul + all the blessed time.” + </p> + <p> + “I heard, sir. I had a mind to come out and help only, you know. . . .” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. You mustn’t. . . . The fellows lie at night about the + decks, too. It isn’t good for them.” + </p> + <p> + Ransome assented. But men couldn’t be looked after like children. + Moreover, one could hardly blame them for trying for such coolness and + such air as there was to be found on deck. He himself, of course, knew + better. + </p> + <p> + He was, indeed, a reasonable man. Yet it would have been hard to say that + the others were not. The last few days had been for us like the ordeal of + the fiery furnace. One really couldn’t quarrel with their common, + imprudent humanity making the best of the moments of relief, when the + night brought in the illusion of coolness and the starlight twinkled + through the heavy, dew-laden air. Moreover, most of them were so weakened + that hardly anything could be done without everybody that could totter + mustering on the braces. No, it was no use remonstrating with them. But I + fully believed that quinine was of very great use indeed. + </p> + <p> + I believed in it. I pinned my faith to it. It would save the men, the + ship, break the spell by its medicinal virtue, make time of no account, + the weather but a passing worry and, like a magic powder working against + mysterious malefices, secure the first passage of my first command against + the evil powers of calms and pestilence. I looked upon it as more precious + than gold, and unlike gold, of which there ever hardly seems to be enough + anywhere, the ship had a sufficient store of it. I went in to get it with + the purpose of weighing out doses. I stretched my hand with the feeling of + a man reaching for an unfailing panacea, took up a fresh bottle and + unrolled the wrapper, noticing as I did so that the ends, both top and + bottom, had come unsealed. . . . + </p> + <p> + But why record all the swift steps of the appalling discovery? You have + guessed the truth already. There was the wrapper, the bottle, and the + white powder inside, some sort of powder! But it wasn’t quinine. One look + at it was quite enough. I remember that at the very moment of picking up + the bottle, before I even dealt with the wrapper, the weight of the object + I had in my hand gave me an instant premonition. Quinine is as light as + feathers; and my nerves must have been exasperated into an extraordinary + sensibility. I let the bottle smash itself on the floor. The stuff, + whatever it was, felt gritty under the sole of my shoe. I snatched up the + next bottle and then the next. The weight alone told the tale. One after + another they fell, breaking at my feet, not because I threw them down in + my dismay, but slipping through my fingers as if this disclosure were too + much for my strength. + </p> + <p> + It is a fact that the very greatness of a mental shock helps one to bear + up against it by producing a sort of temporary insensibility. I came out + of the state-room stunned, as if something heavy had dropped on my head. + From the other side of the saloon, across the table, Ransome, with a + duster in his hand, stared open-mouthed. I don’t think that I looked wild. + It is quite possible that I appeared to be in a hurry because I was + instinctively hastening up on deck. An example this of training become + instinct. The difficulties, the dangers, the problems of a ship at sea + must be met on deck. + </p> + <p> + To this fact, as it were of nature, I responded instinctively; which may + be taken as a proof that for a moment I must have been robbed of my + reason. + </p> + <p> + I was certainly off my balance, a prey to impulse, for at the bottom of + the stairs I turned and flung myself at the doorway of Mr. Burns’ cabin. + The wildness of his aspect checked my mental disorder. He was sitting up + in his bunk, his body looking immensely long, his head drooping a little + sideways, with affected complacency. He flourished, in his trembling hand, + on the end of a forearm no thicker than a walking-stick, a shining pair of + scissors which he tried before my very eyes to jab at his throat. + </p> + <p> + I was to a certain extent horrified; but it was rather a secondary sort of + effect, not really strong enough to make me yell at him in some such + manner as: “Stop!” . . . “Heavens!” . . . “What are you doing?” + </p> + <p> + In reality he was simply overtaxing his returning strength in a shaky + attempt to clip off the thick growth of his red beard. A large towel was + spread over his lap, and a shower of stiff hairs, like bits of copper + wire, was descending on it at every snip of the scissors. + </p> + <p> + He turned to me his face grotesque beyond the fantasies of mad dreams, one + cheek all bushy as if with a swollen flame, the other denuded and sunken, + with the untouched long moustache on that side asserting itself, lonely + and fierce. And while he stared thunderstruck, with the gaping scissors on + his fingers, I shouted my discovery at him fiendishly, in six words, + without comment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V + </h2> + <p> + I heard the clatter of the scissors escaping from his hand, noted the + perilous heave of his whole person over the edge of the bunk after them, + and then, returning to my first purpose, pursued my course on the deck. + The sparkle of the sea filled my eyes. It was gorgeous and barren, + monotonous and without hope under the empty curve of the sky. The sails + hung motionless and slack, the very folds of their sagging surfaces moved + no more than carved granite. The impetuosity of my advent made the man at + the helm start slightly. A block aloft squeaked incomprehensibly, for what + on earth could have made it do so? It was a whistling note like a bird’s. + For a long, long time I faced an empty world, steeped in an infinity of + silence, through which the sunshine poured and flowed for some mysterious + purpose. Then I heard Ransome’s voice at my elbow. + </p> + <p> + “I have put Mr. Burns back to bed, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You have.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, he got out, all of a sudden, but when he let go the edge of + his bunk he fell down. He isn’t light-headed, though, it seems to me.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I said dully, without looking at Ransome. He waited for a moment, + then cautiously, as if not to give offence: “I don’t think we need lose + much of that stuff, sir,” he said, “I can sweep it up, every bit of it + almost, and then we could sift the glass out. I will go about it at once. + It will not make the breakfast late, not ten minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” I said bitterly. “Let the breakfast wait, sweep up every bit of + it, and then throw the damned lot overboard!” + </p> + <p> + The profound silence returned, and when I looked over my shoulder, Ransome—the + intelligent, serene Ransome—had vanished from my side. The intense + loneliness of the sea acted like poison on my brain. When I turned my eyes + to the ship, I had a morbid vision of her as a floating grave. Who hasn’t + heard of ships found floating, haphazard, with their crews all dead? I + looked at the seaman at the helm, I had an impulse to speak to him, and, + indeed, his face took on an expectant cast as if he had guessed my + intention. But in the end I went below, thinking I would be alone with the + greatness of my trouble for a little while. But through his open door Mr. + Burns saw me come down, and addressed me grumpily: “Well, sir?” + </p> + <p> + I went in. “It isn’t well at all,” I said. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns, reestablished in his bed-place, was concealing his hirsute + cheek in the palm of his hand. + </p> + <p> + “That confounded fellow has taken away the scissors from me,” were the + next words he said. + </p> + <p> + The tension I was suffering from was so great that it was perhaps just as + well that Mr. Burns had started on his grievance. He seemed very sore + about it and grumbled, “Does he think I am mad, or what?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think so, Mr. Burns,” I said. I looked upon him at that moment as + a model of self-possession. I even conceived on that account a sort of + admiration for that man, who had (apart from the intense materiality of + what was left of his beard) come as near to being a disembodied spirit as + any man can do and live. I noticed the preternatural sharpness of the + ridge of his nose, the deep cavities of his temples, and I envied him. He + was so reduced that he would probably die very soon. Enviable man! So near + extinction—while I had to bear within me a tumult of suffering + vitality, doubt, confusion, self-reproach, and an indefinite reluctance to + meet the horrid logic of the situation. I could not help muttering: “I + feel as if I were going mad myself.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns glared spectrally, but otherwise was wonderfully composed. + </p> + <p> + “I always thought he would play us some deadly trick,” he said, with a + peculiar emphasis on the <i>he</i>. + </p> + <p> + It gave me a mental shock, but I had neither the mind, nor the heart, nor + the spirit to argue with him. My form of sickness was indifference. The + creeping paralysis of a hopeless outlook. So I only gazed at him. Mr. + Burns broke into further speech. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! What! No! You won’t believe it? Well, how do you account for this? + How do you think it could have happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Happened?” I repeated dully. “Why, yes, how in the name of the infernal + powers did this thing happen?” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, on thinking it out, it seemed incomprehensible that it should just + be like this: the bottles emptied, refilled, rewrapped, and replaced. A + sort of plot, a sinister attempt to deceive, a thing resembling sly + vengeance, but for what? Or else a fiendish joke. But Mr. Burns was in + possession of a theory. It was simple, and he uttered it solemnly in a + hollow voice. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose they have given him about fifteen pounds in Haiphong for that + little lot.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Burns!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + He nodded grotesquely over his raised legs, like two broomsticks in the + pyjamas, with enormous bare feet at the end. + </p> + <p> + “Why not? The stuff is pretty expensive in this part of the world, and + they were very short of it in Tonkin. And what did he care? You have not + known him. I have, and I have defied him. He feared neither God, nor + devil, nor man, nor wind, nor sea, nor his own conscience. And I believe + he hated everybody and everything. But I think he was afraid to die. I + believe I am the only man who ever stood up to him. I faced him in that + cabin where you live now, when he was sick, and I cowed him then. He + thought I was going to twist his neck for him. If he had had his way we + would have been beating up against the Nord-East monsoon, as long as he + lived and afterward, too, for ages and ages. Acting the Flying Dutchman in + the China Sea! Ha! Ha!” + </p> + <p> + “But why should he replace the bottles like this?” . . . I began. + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn’t he? Why should he want to throw the bottles away? They fit + the drawer. They belong to the medicine chest.” + </p> + <p> + “And they were wrapped up,” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the wrappers were there. Did it from habit, I suppose, and as to + refilling, there is always a lot of stuff they send in paper parcels that + burst after a time. And then, who can tell? I suppose you didn’t taste it, + sir? But, of course, you are sure. . . .” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I said. “I didn’t taste it. It is all overboard now.” + </p> + <p> + Behind me, a soft, cultivated voice said: “I have tasted it. It seemed a + mixture of all sorts, sweetish, saltish, very horrible.” + </p> + <p> + Ransome, stepping out of the pantry, had been listening for some time, as + it was very excusable in him to do. + </p> + <p> + “A dirty trick,” said Mr. Burns. “I always said he would.” + </p> + <p> + The magnitude of my indignation was unbounded. And the kind, sympathetic + doctor, too. The only sympathetic man I ever knew . . . instead of writing + that warning letter, the very refinement of sympathy, why didn’t the man + make a proper inspection? But, as a matter of fact, it was hardly fair to + blame the doctor. The fittings were in order and the medicine chest is an + officially arranged affair. There was nothing really to arouse the + slightest suspicion. The person I could never forgive was myself. Nothing + should ever be taken for granted. The seed of everlasting remorse was sown + in my breast. + </p> + <p> + “I feel it’s all my fault,” I exclaimed, “mine and nobody else’s. That’s + how I feel. I shall never forgive myself.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s very foolish, sir,” said Mr. Burns fiercely. + </p> + <p> + And after this effort he fell back exhausted on his bed. He closed his + eyes, he panted; this affair, this abominable surprise had shaken him up, + too. As I turned away I perceived Ransome looking at me blankly. He + appreciated what it meant, but managed to produce his pleasant, wistful + smile. Then he stepped back into his pantry, and I rushed up on deck again + to see whether there was any wind, any breath under the sky, any stir of + the air, any sign of hope. The deadly stillness met me again. Nothing was + changed except that there was a different man at the wheel. He looked ill. + His whole figure drooped, and he seemed rather to cling to the spokes than + hold them with a controlling grip. I said to him: + </p> + <p> + “You are not fit to be here.” + </p> + <p> + “I can manage, sir,” he said feebly. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, there was nothing for him to do. The ship had no + steerage way. She lay with her head to the westward, the everlasting + Koh-ring visible over the stern, with a few small islets, black spots in + the great blaze, swimming before my troubled eyes. And but for those bits + of land there was no speck on the sky, no speck on the water, no shape of + vapour, no wisp of smoke, no sail, no boat, no stir of humanity, no sign + of life, nothing! + </p> + <p> + The first question was, what to do? What could one do? The first thing to + do obviously was to tell the men. I did it that very day. I wasn’t going + to let the knowledge simply get about. I would face them. They were + assembled on the quarterdeck for the purpose. Just before I stepped out to + speak to them I discovered that life could hold terrible moments. No + confessed criminal had ever been so oppressed by his sense of guilt. This + is why, perhaps, my face was set hard and my voice curt and unemotional + while I made my declaration that I could do nothing more for the sick in + the way of drugs. As to such care as could be given them they knew they + had had it. + </p> + <p> + I would have held them justified in tearing me limb from limb. The silence + which followed upon my words was almost harder to bear than the angriest + uproar. I was crushed by the infinite depth of its reproach. But, as a + matter of fact, I was mistaken. In a voice which I had great difficulty in + keeping firm, I went on: “I suppose, men, you have understood what I said, + and you know what it means.” + </p> + <p> + A voice or two were heard: “Yes, sir. . . . We understand.” + </p> + <p> + They had kept silent simply because they thought that they were not called + to say anything; and when I told them that I intended to run into + Singapore and that the best chance for the ship and the men was in the + efforts all of us, sick and well, must make to get her along out of this, + I received the encouragement of a low assenting murmur and of a louder + voice exclaiming: “Surely there is a way out of this blamed hole.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Here is an extract from the notes I wrote at the time. + </p> + <p> + “We have lost Koh-ring at last. For many days now I don’t think I have + been two hours below altogether. I remain on deck, of course, night and + day, and the nights and the days wheel over us in succession, whether long + or short, who can say? All sense of time is lost in the monotony of + expectation, of hope, and of desire—which is only one: Get the ship + to the southward! Get the ship to the southward! The effect is curiously + mechanical; the sun climbs and descends, the night swings over our heads + as if somebody below the horizon were turning a crank. It is the + prettiest, the most aimless! . . . and all through that miserable + performance I go on, tramping, tramping the deck. How many miles have I + walked on the poop of that ship! A stubborn pilgrimage of sheer + restlessness, diversified by short excursions below to look upon Mr. + Burns. I don’t know whether it is an illusion, but he seems to become more + substantial from day to day. He doesn’t say much, for, indeed, the + situation doesn’t lend itself to idle remarks. I notice this even with the + men as I watch them moving or sitting about the decks. They don’t talk to + each other. It strikes me that if there exists an invisible ear catching + the whispers of the earth, it will find this ship the most silent spot on + it. . . . + </p> + <p> + “No, Mr. Burns has not much to say to me. He sits in his bunk with his + beard gone, his moustaches flaming, and with an air of silent + determination on his chalky physiognomy. Ransome tells me he devours all + the food that is given him to the last scrap, but that, apparently, he + sleeps very little. Even at night, when I go below to fill my pipe, I + notice that, though dozing flat on his back, he still looks very + determined. From the side glance he gives me when awake it seems as though + he were annoyed at being interrupted in some arduous mental operation; and + as I emerge on deck the ordered arrangement of the stars meets my eye, + unclouded, infinitely wearisome. There they are: stars, sun, sea, light, + darkness, space, great waters; the formidable Work of the Seven Days, into + which mankind seems to have blundered unbidden. Or else decoyed. Even as I + have been decoyed into this awful, this death-haunted command. . . .” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The only spot of light in the ship at night was that of the compass-lamps, + lighting up the faces of the succeeding helmsmen; for the rest we were + lost in the darkness, I walking the poop and the men lying about the + decks. They were all so reduced by sickness that no watches could be kept. + Those who were able to walk remained all the time on duty, lying about in + the shadows of the main deck, till my voice raised for an order would + bring them to their enfeebled feet, a tottering little group, moving + patiently about the ship, with hardly a murmur, a whisper amongst them + all. And every time I had to raise my voice it was with a pang of remorse + and pity. + </p> + <p> + Then about four o’clock in the morning a light would gleam forward in the + galley. The unfailing Ransome with the uneasy heart, immune, serene, and + active, was getting ready for the early coffee for the men. Presently he + would bring me a cup up on the poop, and it was then that I allowed myself + to drop into my deck chair for a couple of hours of real sleep. No doubt I + must have been snatching short dozes when leaning against the rail for a + moment in sheer exhaustion; but, honestly, I was not aware of them, except + in the painful form of convulsive starts that seemed to come on me even + while I walked. From about five, however, until after seven I would sleep + openly under the fading stars. + </p> + <p> + I would say to the helmsman: “Call me at need,” and drop into that chair + and close my eyes, feeling that there was no more sleep for me on earth. + And then I would know nothing till, some time between seven and eight, I + would feel a touch on my shoulder and look up at Ransome’s face, with its + faint, wistful smile and friendly, gray eyes, as though he were tenderly + amused at my slumbers. Occasionally the second mate would come up and + relieve me at early coffee time. But it didn’t really matter. Generally it + was a dead calm, or else faint airs so changing and fugitive that it + really wasn’t worth while to touch a brace for them. If the air steadied + at all the seaman at the helm could be trusted for a warning shout: + “Ship’s all aback, sir!” which like a trumpet-call would make me spring a + foot above the deck. Those were the words which it seemed to me would have + made me spring up from eternal sleep. But this was not often. I have never + met since such breathless sunrises. And if the second mate happened to be + there (he had generally one day in three free of fever) I would find him + sitting on the skylight half senseless, as it were, and with an idiotic + gaze fastened on some object near by—a rope, a cleat, a belaying + pin, a ringbolt. + </p> + <p> + That young man was rather troublesome. He remained cubbish in his + sufferings. He seemed to have become completely imbecile; and when the + return of fever drove him to his cabin below, the next thing would be that + we would miss him from there. The first time it happened Ransome and I + were very much alarmed. We started a quiet search and ultimately Ransome + discovered him curled up in the sail-locker, which opened into the lobby + by a sliding door. When remonstrated with, he muttered sulkily, “It’s cool + in there.” That wasn’t true. It was only dark there. + </p> + <p> + The fundamental defects of his face were not improved by its uniform livid + hue. The disease disclosed its low type in a startling way. It was not so + with many of the men. The wastage of ill-health seemed to idealise the + general character of the features, bringing out the unsuspected nobility + of some, the strength of others, and in one case revealing an essentially + comic aspect. He was a short, gingery, active man with a nose and chin of + the Punch type, and whom his shipmates called “Frenchy.” I don’t know why. + He may have been a Frenchman, but I have never heard him utter a single + word in French. + </p> + <p> + To see him coming aft to the wheel comforted one. The blue dungaree + trousers turned up the calf, one leg a little higher than the other, the + clean check shirt, the white canvas cap, evidently made by himself, made + up a whole of peculiar smartness, and the persistent jauntiness of his + gait, even, poor fellow, when he couldn’t help tottering, told of his + invincible spirit. There was also a man called Gambril. He was the only + grizzled person in the ship. His face was of an austere type. But if I + remember all their faces, wasting tragically before my eyes, most of their + names have vanished from my memory. + </p> + <p> + The words that passed between us were few and puerile in regard of the + situation. I had to force myself to look them in the face. I expected to + meet reproachful glances. There were none. The expression of suffering in + their eyes was indeed hard enough to bear. But that they couldn’t help. + For the rest, I ask myself whether it was the temper of their souls or the + sympathy of their imagination that made them so wonderful, so worthy of my + undying regard. + </p> + <p> + For myself, neither my soul was highly tempered, nor my imagination + properly under control. There were moments when I felt, not only that I + would go mad, but that I had gone mad already; so that I dared not open my + lips for fear of betraying myself by some insane shriek. Luckily I had + only orders to give, and an order has a steadying influence upon him who + has to give it. Moreover, the seaman, the officer of the watch, in me was + sufficiently sane. I was like a mad carpenter making a box. Were he ever + so convinced that he was King of Jerusalem, the box he would make would be + a sane box. What I feared was a shrill note escaping me involuntarily and + upsetting my balance. Luckily, again, there was no necessity to raise + one’s voice. The brooding stillness of the world seemed sensitive to the + slightest sound, like a whispering gallery. The conversational tone would + almost carry a word from one end of the ship to the other. The terrible + thing was that the only voice that I ever heard was my own. At night + especially it reverberated very lonely amongst the planes of the + unstirring sails. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns, still keeping to his bed with that air of secret determination, + was moved to grumble at many things. Our interviews were short five-minute + affairs, but fairly frequent. I was everlastingly diving down below to get + a light, though I did not consume much tobacco at that time. The pipe was + always going out; for in truth my mind was not composed enough to enable + me to get a decent smoke. Likewise, for most of the time during the + twenty-four hours I could have struck matches on deck and held them aloft + till the flame burnt my fingers. But I always used to run below. It was a + change. It was the only break in the incessant strain; and, of course, Mr. + Burns through the open door could see me come in and go out every time. + </p> + <p> + With his knees gathered up under his chin and staring with his greenish + eyes over them, he was a weird figure, and with my knowledge of the crazy + notion in his head, not a very attractive one for me. Still, I had to + speak to him now and then, and one day he complained that the ship was + very silent. For hours and hours, he said, he was lying there, not hearing + a sound, till he did not know what to do with himself. + </p> + <p> + “When Ransome happens to be forward in his galley everything’s so still + that one might think everybody in the ship was dead,” he grumbled. “The + only voice I do hear sometimes is yours, sir, and that isn’t enough to + cheer me up. What’s the matter with the men? Isn’t there one left that can + sing out at the ropes?” + </p> + <p> + “Not one, Mr. Burns,” I said. “There is no breath to spare on board this + ship for that. Are you aware that there are times when I can’t muster more + than three hands to do anything?” + </p> + <p> + He asked swiftly but fearfully: + </p> + <p> + “Nobody dead yet, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn’t do,” Mr. Burns declared forcibly. “Mustn’t let him. If he + gets hold of one he will get them all.” + </p> + <p> + I cried out angrily at this. I believe I even swore at the disturbing + effect of these words. They attacked all the self-possession that was left + to me. In my endless vigil in the face of the enemy I had been haunted by + gruesome images enough. I had had visions of a ship drifting in calms and + swinging in light airs, with all her crew dying slowly about her decks. + Such things had been known to happen. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns met my outburst by a mysterious silence. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” I said. “You don’t believe yourself what you say. You can’t. + It’s impossible. It isn’t the sort of thing I have a right to expect from + you. My position’s bad enough without being worried with your silly + fancies.” + </p> + <p> + He remained unmoved. On account of the way in which the light fell on his + head I could not be sure whether he had smiled faintly or not. I changed + my tone. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” I said. “It’s getting so desperate that I had thought for a + moment, since we can’t make our way south, whether I wouldn’t try to steer + west and make an attempt to reach the mailboat track. We could always get + some quinine from her, at least. What do you think?” + </p> + <p> + He cried out: “No, no, no. Don’t do that, sir. You mustn’t for a moment + give up facing that old ruffian. If you do he will get the upper hand of + us.” + </p> + <p> + I left him. He was impossible. It was like a case of possession. His + protest, however, was essentially quite sound. As a matter of fact, my + notion of heading out west on the chance of sighting a problematical + steamer could not bear calm examination. On the side where we were we had + enough wind, at least from time to time, to struggle on toward the south. + Enough, at least, to keep hope alive. But suppose that I had used those + capricious gusts of wind to sail away to the westward, into some region + where there was not a breath of air for days on end, what then? Perhaps my + appalling vision of a ship floating with a dead crew would become a + reality for the discovery weeks afterward by some horror-stricken + mariners. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon Ransome brought me up a cup of tea, and while waiting + there, tray in hand, he remarked in the exactly right tone of sympathy: + </p> + <p> + “You are holding out well, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said. “You and I seem to have been forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgotten, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by the fever-devil who has got on board this ship,” I said. + </p> + <p> + Ransome gave me one of his attractive, intelligent, quick glances and went + away with the tray. It occurred to me that I had been talking somewhat in + Mr. Burns’ manner. It annoyed me. Yet often in darker moments I forgot + myself into an attitude toward our troubles more fit for a contest against + a living enemy. + </p> + <p> + Yes. The fever-devil had not laid his hand yet either on Ransome or on me. + But he might at any time. It was one of those thoughts one had to fight + down, keep at arm’s length at any cost. It was unbearable to contemplate + the possibility of Ransome, the housekeeper of the ship, being laid low. + And what would happen to my command if I got knocked over, with Mr. Burns + too weak to stand without holding on to his bed-place and the second mate + reduced to a state of permanent imbecility? It was impossible to imagine, + or rather, it was only too easy to imagine. + </p> + <p> + I was alone on the poop. The ship having no steerage way, I had sent the + helmsman away to sit down or lie down somewhere in the shade. The men’s + strength was so reduced that all unnecessary calls on it had to be + avoided. It was the austere Gambril with the grizzly beard. He went away + readily enough, but he was so weakened by repeated bouts of fever, poor + fellow, that in order to get down the poop ladder he had to turn sideways + and hang on with both hands to the brass rail. It was just simply + heart-breaking to watch. Yet he was neither very much worse nor much + better than most of the half-dozen miserable victims I could muster up on + deck. + </p> + <p> + It was a terribly lifeless afternoon. For several days in succession low + clouds had appeared in the distance, white masses with dark convolutions + resting on the water, motionless, almost solid, and yet all the time + changing their aspects subtly. Toward evening they vanished as a rule. But + this day they awaited the setting sun, which glowed and smouldered sulkily + amongst them before it sank down. The punctual and wearisome stars + reappeared over our mastheads, but the air remained stagnant and + oppressive. + </p> + <p> + The unfailing Ransome lighted the binnaclelamps and glided, all shadowy, + up to me. + </p> + <p> + “Will you go down and try to eat something, sir?” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + His low voice startled me. I had been standing looking out over the rail, + saying nothing, feeling nothing, not even the weariness of my limbs, + overcome by the evil spell. + </p> + <p> + “Ransome,” I asked abruptly, “how long have I been on deck? I am losing + the notion of time.” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve days, sir,” he said, “and it’s just a fortnight since we left the + anchorage.” + </p> + <p> + His equable voice sounded mournful somehow. He waited a bit, then added: + “It’s the first time that it looks as if we were to have some rain.” + </p> + <p> + I noticed then the broad shadow on the horizon, extinguishing the low + stars completely, while those overhead, when I looked up, seemed to shine + down on us through a veil of smoke. + </p> + <p> + How it got there, how it had crept up so high, I couldn’t say. It had an + ominous appearance. The air did not stir. At a renewed invitation from + Ransome I did go down into the cabin to—in his own words—“try + and eat something.” I don’t know that the trial was very successful. I + suppose at that period I did exist on food in the usual way; but the + memory is now that in those days life was sustained on invincible anguish, + as a sort of infernal stimulant exciting and consuming at the same time. + </p> + <p> + It’s the only period of my life in which I attempted to keep a diary. No, + not the only one. Years later, in conditions of moral isolation, I did put + down on paper the thoughts and events of a score of days. But this was the + first time. I don’t remember how it came about or how the pocketbook and + the pencil came into my hands. It’s inconceivable that I should have + looked for them on purpose. I suppose they saved me from the crazy trick + of talking to myself. + </p> + <p> + Strangely enough, in both cases I took to that sort of thing in + circumstances in which I did not expect, in colloquial phrase, “to come + out of it.” Neither could I expect the record to outlast me. This shows + that it was purely a personal need for intimate relief and not a call of + egotism. + </p> + <p> + Here I must give another sample of it, a few detached lines, now looking + very ghostly to my own eyes, out of the part scribbled that very evening: + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + “There is something going on in the sky like a decomposition; like a + corruption of the air, which remains as still as ever. After all, mere + clouds, which may or may not hold wind or rain. Strange that it should + trouble me so. I feel as if all my sins had found me out. But I suppose + the trouble is that the ship is still lying motionless, not under command; + and that I have nothing to do to keep my imagination from running wild + amongst the disastrous images of the worst that may befall us. What’s + going to happen? Probably nothing. Or anything. It may be a furious squall + coming, butt end foremost. And on deck there are five men with the + vitality and the strength of, say, two. We may have all our sails blown + away. Every stitch of canvas has been on her since we broke ground at the + mouth of the Mei-nam, fifteen days ago . . . or fifteen centuries. It + seems to me that all my life before that momentous day is infinitely + remote, a fading memory of light-hearted youth, something on the other + side of a shadow. Yes, sails may very well be blown away. And that would + be like a death sentence on the men. We haven’t strength enough on board + to bend another suit; incredible thought, but it is true. Or we may even + get dismasted. Ships have been dismasted in squalls simply because they + weren’t handled quick enough, and we have no power to whirl the yards + around. It’s like being bound hand and foot preparatory to having one’s + throat cut. And what appals me most of all is that I shrink from going on + deck to face it. It’s due to the ship, it’s due to the men who are there + on deck—some of them, ready to put out the last remnant of their + strength at a word from me. And I am shrinking from it. From the mere + vision. My first command. Now I understand that strange sense of + insecurity in my past. I always suspected that I might be no good. And + here is proof positive. I am shirking it. I am no good.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + At that moment, or, perhaps, the moment after, I became aware of Ransome + standing in the cabin. Something in his expression startled me. It had a + meaning which I could not make out. I exclaimed: “Somebody’s dead.” + </p> + <p> + It was his turn then to look startled. + </p> + <p> + “Dead? Not that I know of, sir. I have been in the forecastle only ten + minutes ago and there was no dead man there then.” + </p> + <p> + “You did give me a scare,” I said. + </p> + <p> + His voice was extremely pleasant to listen to. He explained that he had + come down below to close Mr. Burns’ port in case it should come on to + rain. “He did not know that I was in the cabin,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “How does it look outside?” I asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Very black, indeed, sir. There is something in it for certain.” + </p> + <p> + “In what quarter?” + </p> + <p> + “All round, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I repeated idly: “All round. For certain,” with my elbows on the table. + </p> + <p> + Ransome lingered in the cabin as if he had something to do there, but + hesitated about doing it. I said suddenly: + </p> + <p> + “You think I ought to be on deck?” + </p> + <p> + He answered at once but without any particular emphasis or accent: “I do, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + I got to my feet briskly, and he made way for me to go out. As I passed + through the lobby I heard Mr. Burns’ voice saying: + </p> + <p> + “Shut the door of my room, will you, steward?” And Ransome’s rather + surprised: “Certainly, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I thought that all my feelings had been dulled into complete indifference. + But I found it as trying as ever to be on deck. The impenetrable blackness + beset the ship so close that it seemed that by thrusting one’s hand over + the side one could touch some unearthly substance. There was in it an + effect of inconceivable terror and of inexpressible mystery. The few stars + overhead shed a dim light upon the ship alone, with no gleams of any kind + upon the water, in detached shafts piercing an atmosphere which had turned + to soot. It was something I had never seen before, giving no hint of the + direction from which any change would come, the closing in of a menace + from all sides. + </p> + <p> + There was still no man at the helm. The immobility of all things was + perfect. If the air had turned black, the sea, for all I knew, might have + turned solid. It was no good looking in any direction, watching for any + sign, speculating upon the nearness of the moment. When the time came the + blackness would overwhelm silently the bit of starlight falling upon the + ship, and the end of all things would come without a sigh, stir, or murmur + of any kind, and all our hearts would cease to beat like run-down clocks. + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to shake off that sense of finality. The quietness that + came over me was like a foretaste of annihilation. It gave me a sort of + comfort, as though my soul had become suddenly reconciled to an eternity + of blind stillness. + </p> + <p> + The seaman’s instinct alone survived whole in my moral dissolution. I + descended the ladder to the quarter-deck. The starlight seemed to die out + before reaching that spot, but when I asked quietly: “Are you there, men?” + my eyes made out shadow forms starting up around me, very few, very + indistinct; and a voice spoke: “All here, sir.” Another amended anxiously: + </p> + <p> + “All that are any good for anything, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Both voices were very quiet and unringing; without any special character + of readiness or discouragement. Very matter-of-fact voices. + </p> + <p> + “We must try to haul this mainsail close up,” I said. + </p> + <p> + The shadows swayed away from me without a word. Those men were the ghosts + of themselves, and their weight on a rope could be no more than the weight + of a bunch of ghosts. Indeed, if ever a sail was hauled up by sheer + spiritual strength it must have been that sail, for, properly speaking, + there was not muscle enough for the task in the whole ship let alone the + miserable lot of us on deck. Of course, I took the lead in the work + myself. They wandered feebly after me from rope to rope, stumbling and + panting. They toiled like Titans. We were half-an-hour at it at least, and + all the time the black universe made no sound. When the last leech-line + was made fast, my eyes, accustomed to the darkness, made out the shapes of + exhausted men drooping over the rails, collapsed on hatches. One hung over + the after-capstan, sobbing for breath, and I stood amongst them like a + tower of strength, impervious to disease and feeling only the sickness of + my soul. I waited for some time fighting against the weight of my sins, + against my sense of unworthiness, and then I said: + </p> + <p> + “Now, men, we’ll go aft and square the mainyard. That’s about all we can + do for the ship; and for the rest she must take her chance.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI + </h2> + <p> + As we all went up it occurred to me that there ought to be a man at the + helm. I raised my voice not much above a whisper, and, noiselessly, an + uncomplaining spirit in a fever-wasted body appeared in the light aft, the + head with hollow eyes illuminated against the blackness which had + swallowed up our world—and the universe. The bared forearm extended + over the upper spokes seemed to shine with a light of its own. + </p> + <p> + I murmured to that luminous appearance: + </p> + <p> + “Keep the helm right amidships.” + </p> + <p> + It answered in a tone of patient suffering: + </p> + <p> + “Right amidships, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Then I descended to the quarter-deck. It was impossible to tell whence the + blow would come. To look round the ship was to look into a bottomless, + black pit. The eye lost itself in inconceivable depths. + </p> + <p> + I wanted to ascertain whether the ropes had been picked up off the deck. + One could only do that by feeling with one’s feet. In my cautious progress + I came against a man in whom I recognized Ransome. He possessed an + unimpaired physical solidity which was manifest to me at the contact. He + was leaning against the quarter-deck capstan and kept silent. It was like + a revelation. He was the collapsed figure sobbing for breath I had noticed + before we went on the poop. + </p> + <p> + “You have been helping with the mainsail!” I exclaimed in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” sounded his quiet voice. + </p> + <p> + “Man! What were you thinking of? You mustn’t do that sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + After a pause he assented: “I suppose I mustn’t.” Then after another short + silence he added: “I am all right now,” quickly, between the tell-tale + gasps. + </p> + <p> + I could neither hear nor see anybody else; but when I spoke up, answering + sad murmurs filled the quarter-deck, and its shadows seemed to shift here + and there. I ordered all the halyards laid down on deck clear for running. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll see to that, sir,” volunteered Ransome in his natural, pleasant + tone, which comforted one and aroused one’s compassion, too, somehow. + </p> + <p> + That man ought to have been in his bed, resting, and my plain duty was to + send him there. But perhaps he would not have obeyed me; I had not the + strength of mind to try. All I said was: + </p> + <p> + “Go about it quietly, Ransome.” + </p> + <p> + Returning on the poop I approached Gambril. His face, set with hollow + shadows in the light, looked awful, finally silenced. I asked him how he + felt, but hardly expected an answer. Therefore, I was astonished at his + comparative loquacity. + </p> + <p> + “Them shakes leaves me as weak as a kitten, sir,” he said, preserving + finely that air of unconsciousness as to anything but his business a + helmsman should never lose. “And before I can pick up my strength that + there hot fit comes along and knocks me over again.” + </p> + <p> + He sighed. There was no reproach in his tone, but the bare words were + enough to give me a horrible pang of self-reproach. It held me dumb for a + time. When the tormenting sensation had passed off I asked: + </p> + <p> + “Do you feel strong enough to prevent the rudder taking charge if she gets + sternway on her? It wouldn’t do to get something smashed about the + steering-gear now. We’ve enough difficulties to cope with as it is.” + </p> + <p> + He answered with just a shade of weariness that he was strong enough to + hang on. He could promise me that she shouldn’t take the wheel out of his + hands. More he couldn’t say. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Ransome appeared quite close to me, stepping out of the + darkness into visibility suddenly, as if just created with his composed + face and pleasant voice. + </p> + <p> + Every rope on deck, he said, was laid down clear for running, as far as + one could make certain by feeling. It was impossible to see anything. + Frenchy had stationed himself forward. He said he had a jump or two left + in him yet. + </p> + <p> + Here a faint smile altered for an instant the clear, firm design of + Ransome’s lips. With his serious clear, gray eyes, his serene temperament—he + was a priceless man altogether. Soul as firm as the muscles of his body. + </p> + <p> + He was the only man on board (except me, but I had to preserve my liberty + of movement) who had a sufficiency of muscular strength to trust to. For a + moment I thought I had better ask him to take the wheel. But the dreadful + knowledge of the enemy he had to carry about him made me hesitate. In my + ignorance of physiology it occurred to me that he might die suddenly, from + excitement, at a critical moment. + </p> + <p> + While this gruesome fear restrained the ready words on the tip of my + tongue, Ransome stepped back two paces and vanished from my sight. + </p> + <p> + At once an uneasiness possessed me, as if some support had been withdrawn. + I moved forward, too, outside the circle of light, into the darkness that + stood in front of me like a wall. In one stride I penetrated it. Such must + have been the darkness before creation. It had closed behind me. I knew I + was invisible to the man at the helm. Neither could I see anything. He was + alone, I was alone, every man was alone where he stood. And every form was + gone too, spar, sail, fittings, rails; everything was blotted out in the + dreadful smoothness of that absolute night. + </p> + <p> + A flash of lightning would have been a relief—I mean physically. I + would have prayed for it if it hadn’t been for my shrinking apprehension + of the thunder. In the tension of silence I was suffering from it seemed + to me that the first crash must turn me into dust. + </p> + <p> + And thunder was, most likely, what would happen next. Stiff all over and + hardly breathing, I waited with a horribly strained expectation. Nothing + happened. It was maddening, but a dull, growing ache in the lower part of + my face made me aware that I had been grinding my teeth madly enough, for + God knows how long. + </p> + <p> + It’s extraordinary I should not have heard myself doing it; but I hadn’t. + By an effort which absorbed all my faculties I managed to keep my jaw + still. It required much attention, and while thus engaged I became + bothered by curious, irregular sounds of faint tapping on the deck. They + could be heard single, in pairs, in groups. While I wondered at this + mysterious devilry, I received a slight blow under the left eye and felt + an enormous tear run down my cheek. Raindrops. Enormous. Forerunners of + something. Tap. Tap. Tap. . . . + </p> + <p> + I turned about, and, addressing Gambrel earnestly, entreated him to “hang + on to the wheel.” But I could hardly speak from emotion. The fatal moment + had come. I held my breath. The tapping had stopped as unexpectedly as it + had begun, and there was a renewed moment of intolerable suspense; + something like an additional turn of the racking screw. I don’t suppose I + would have ever screamed, but I remember my conviction that there was + nothing else for it but to scream. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly—how am I to convey it? Well, suddenly the darkness turned + into water. This is the only suitable figure. A heavy shower, a downpour, + comes along, making a noise. You hear its approach on the sea, in the air, + too, I verily believe. But this was different. With no preliminary whisper + or rustle, without a splash, and even without the ghost of impact, I + became instantaneously soaked to the skin. Not a very difficult matter, + since I was wearing only my sleeping suit. My hair got full of water in an + instant, water streamed on my skin, it filled my nose, my ears, my eyes. + In a fraction of a second I swallowed quite a lot of it. + </p> + <p> + As to Gambril, he was fairly choked. He coughed pitifully, the broken + cough of a sick man; and I beheld him as one sees a fish in an aquarium by + the light of an electric bulb, an elusive, phosphorescent shape. Only he + did not glide away. But something else happened. Both binnaclelamps went + out. I suppose the water forced itself into them, though I wouldn’t have + thought that possible, for they fitted into the cowl perfectly. + </p> + <p> + The last gleam of light in the universe had gone, pursued by a low + exclamation of dismay from Gambril. I groped for him and seized his arm. + How startlingly wasted it was. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” I said. “You don’t want the light. All you need to do is to + keep the wind, when it comes, at the back of your head. You understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, aye, sir. . . . But I should like to have a light,” he added + nervously. + </p> + <p> + All that time the ship lay as steady as a rock. The noise of the water + pouring off the sails and spars, flowing over the break of the poop, had + stopped short. The poop scuppers gurgled and sobbed for a little while + longer, and then perfect silence, joined to perfect immobility, proclaimed + the yet unbroken spell of our helplessness, poised on the edge of some + violent issue, lurking in the dark. + </p> + <p> + I started forward restlessly. I did not need my sight to pace the poop of + my ill-starred first command with perfect assurance. Every square foot of + her decks was impressed indelibly on my brain, to the very grain and knots + of the planks. Yet, all of a sudden, I fell clean over something, landing + full length on my hands and face. + </p> + <p> + It was something big and alive. Not a dog—more like a sheep, rather. + But there were no animals in the ship. How could an animal. . . . It was + an added and fantastic horror which I could not resist. The hair of my + head stirred even as I picked myself up, awfully scared; not as a man is + scared while his judgment, his reason still try to resist, but completely, + boundlessly, and, as it were, innocently scared—like a little child. + </p> + <p> + I could see It—that Thing! The darkness, of which so much had just + turned into water, had thinned down a little. There It was! But I did not + hit upon the notion of Mr. Burns issuing out of the companion on all fours + till he attempted to stand up, and even then the idea of a bear crossed my + mind first. + </p> + <p> + He growled like one when I seized him round the body. He had buttoned + himself up into an enormous winter overcoat of some woolly material, the + weight of which was too much for his reduced state. I could hardly feel + the incredibly thin lath of his body, lost within the thick stuff, but his + growl had depth and substance: Confounded dump ship with a craven, + tiptoeing crowd. Why couldn’t they stamp and go with a brace? Wasn’t there + one Godforsaken lubber in the lot fit to raise a yell on a rope? + </p> + <p> + “Skulking’s no good, sir,” he attacked me directly. “You can’t slink past + the old murderous ruffian. It isn’t the way. You must go for him boldly—as + I did. Boldness is what you want. Show him that you don’t care for any of + his damned tricks. Kick up a jolly old row.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God, Mr. Burns,” I said angrily. “What on earth are you up to? What + do you mean by coming up on deck in this state?” + </p> + <p> + “Just that! Boldness. The only way to scare the old bullying rascal.” + </p> + <p> + I pushed him, still growling, against the rail. “Hold on to it,” I said + roughly. I did not know what to do with him. I left him in a hurry, to go + to Gambril, who had called faintly that he believed there was some wind + aloft. Indeed, my own ears had caught a feeble flutter of wet canvas, high + up overhead, the jingle of a slack chain sheet. . . . + </p> + <p> + These were eerie, disturbing, alarming sounds in the dead stillness of the + air around me. All the instances I had heard of topmasts being whipped out + of a ship while there was not wind enough on her deck to blow out a match + rushed into my memory. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t see the upper sails, sir,” declared Gambril shakily. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t move the helm. You’ll be all right,” I said confidently. + </p> + <p> + The poor man’s nerves were gone. Mine were not in much better case. It was + the moment of breaking strain and was relieved by the abrupt sensation of + the ship moving forward as if of herself under my feet. I heard plainly + the soughing of the wind aloft, the low cracks of the upper spars taking + the strain, long before I could feel the least draught on my face turned + aft, anxious and sightless like the face of a blind man. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a louder-sounding note filled our ears, the darkness started + streaming against our bodies, chilling them exceedingly. Both of us, + Gambril and I, shivered violently in our clinging, soaked garments of thin + cotton. I said to him: + </p> + <p> + “You are all right now, my man. All you’ve got to do is to keep the wind + at the back of your head. Surely you are up to that. A child could steer + this ship in smooth water.” + </p> + <p> + He muttered: “Aye! A healthy child.” And I felt ashamed of having been + passed over by the fever which had been preying on every man’s strength + but mine, in order that my remorse might be the more bitter, the feeling + of unworthiness more poignant, and the sense of responsibility heavier to + bear. + </p> + <p> + The ship had gathered great way on her almost at once on the calm water. I + felt her slipping through it with no other noise but a mysterious rustle + alongside. Otherwise, she had no motion at all, neither lift nor roll. It + was a disheartening steadiness which had lasted for eighteen days now; for + never, never had we had wind enough in that time to raise the slightest + run of the sea. The breeze freshened suddenly. I thought it was high time + to get Mr. Burns off the deck. He worried me. I looked upon him as a + lunatic who would be very likely to start roaming over the ship and break + a limb or fall overboard. + </p> + <p> + I was truly glad to find he had remained holding on where I had left him, + sensibly enough. He was, however, muttering to himself ominously. + </p> + <p> + This was discouraging. I remarked in a matter-of-fact tone: + </p> + <p> + “We have never had so much wind as this since we left the roads.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s some heart in it, too,” he growled judiciously. It was a remark + of a perfectly sane seaman. But he added immediately: “It was about time I + should come on deck. I’ve been nursing my strength for this—just for + this. Do you see it, sir?” + </p> + <p> + I said I did, and proceeded to hint that it would be advisable for him to + go below now and take a rest. + </p> + <p> + His answer was an indignant “Go below! Not if I know it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Very cheerful! He was a horrible nuisance. And all at once he started to + argue. I could feel his crazy excitement in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know how to go about it, sir. How could you? All this + whispering and tiptoeing is no good. You can’t hope to slink past a + cunning, wide-awake, evil brute like he was. You never heard him talk. + Enough to make your hair stand on end. No! No! He wasn’t mad. He was no + more mad than I am. He was just downright wicked. Wicked so as to frighten + most people. I will tell you what he was. He was nothing less than a thief + and a murderer at heart. And do you think he’s any different now because + he’s dead? Not he! His carcass lies a hundred fathom under, but he’s just + the same . . . in latitude 8 d 20’ north.” + </p> + <p> + He snorted defiantly. I noted with weary resignation that the breeze had + got lighter while he raved. He was at it again. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to have thrown the beggar out of the ship over the rail like a + dog. It was only on account of the men. . . . Fancy having to read the + Burial Service over a brute like that! . . . ‘Our departed brother’ . . . + I could have laughed. That was what he couldn’t bear. I suppose I am the + only man that ever stood up to laugh at him. When he got sick it used to + scare that . . . brother. . . . Brother. . . . Departed. . . . Sooner call + a shark brother.” + </p> + <p> + The breeze had let go so suddenly that the way of the ship brought the wet + sails heavily against the mast. The spell of deadly stillness had caught + us up again. There seemed to be no escape. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo!” exclaimed Mr. Burns in a startled voice. “Calm again!” + </p> + <p> + I addressed him as though he had been sane. + </p> + <p> + “This is the sort of thing we’ve been having for seventeen days, Mr. + Burns,” I said with intense bitterness. “A puff, then a calm, and in a + moment, you’ll see, she’ll be swinging on her heel with her head away from + her course to the devil somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + He caught at the word. “The old dodging Devil,” he screamed piercingly and + burst into such a loud laugh as I had never heard before. It was a + provoking, mocking peal, with a hair-raising, screeching over-note of + defiance. I stepped back, utterly confounded. + </p> + <p> + Instantly there was a stir on the quarter-deck; murmurs of dismay. A + distressed voice cried out in the dark below us: “Who’s that gone crazy, + now?” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps they thought it was their captain? Rush is not the word that could + be applied to the utmost speed the poor fellows were up to; but in an + amazing short time every man in the ship able to walk upright had found + his way on to that poop. + </p> + <p> + I shouted to them: “It’s the mate. Lay hold of him a couple of you. . . .” + </p> + <p> + I expected this performance to end in a ghastly sort of fight. But Mr. + Burns cut his derisive screeching dead short and turned upon them + fiercely, yelling: + </p> + <p> + “Aha! Dog-gone ye! You’ve found your tongues—have ye? I thought you + were dumb. Well, then—laugh! Laugh—I tell you. Now then—all + together. One, two, three—laugh!” + </p> + <p> + A moment of silence ensued, of silence so profound that you could have + heard a pin drop on the deck. Then Ransome’s unperturbed voice uttered + pleasantly the words: + </p> + <p> + “I think he has fainted, sir—” The little motionless knot of men + stirred, with low murmurs of relief. “I’ve got him under the arms. Get + hold of his legs, some one.” + </p> + <p> + Yes. It was a relief. He was silenced for a time—for a time. I could + not have stood another peal of that insane screeching. I was sure of it; + and just then Gambril, the austere Gambril, treated us to another vocal + performance. He began to sing out for relief. His voice wailed pitifully + in the darkness: “Come aft somebody! I can’t stand this. Here she’ll be + off again directly and I can’t. . . .” + </p> + <p> + I dashed aft myself meeting on my way a hard gust of wind whose approach + Gambril’s ear had detected from afar and which filled the sails on the + main in a series of muffled reports mingled with the low plaint of the + spars. I was just in time to seize the wheel while Frenchy who had + followed me caught up the collapsing Gambril. He hauled him out of the + way, admonished him to lie still where he was, and then stepped up to + relieve me, asking calmly: + </p> + <p> + “How am I to steer her, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Dead before it for the present. I’ll get you a light in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + But going forward I met Ransome bringing up the spare binnacle lamp. That + man noticed everything, attended to everything, shed comfort around him as + he moved. As he passed me he remarked in a soothing tone that the stars + were coming out. They were. The breeze was sweeping clear the sooty sky, + breaking through the indolent silence of the sea. + </p> + <p> + The barrier of awful stillness which had encompassed us for so many days + as though we had been accursed, was broken. I felt that. I let myself fall + on to the skylight seat. A faint white ridge of foam, thin, very thin, + broke alongside. The first for ages—for ages. I could have cheered, + if it hadn’t been for the sense of guilt which clung to all my thoughts + secretly. Ransome stood before me. + </p> + <p> + “What about the mate,” I asked anxiously. “Still unconscious?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir—it’s funny,” Ransome was evidently puzzled. “He hasn’t + spoken a word, and his eyes are shut. But it looks to me more like sound + sleep than anything else.” + </p> + <p> + I accepted this view as the least troublesome of any, or at any rate, + least disturbing. Dead faint or deep slumber, Mr. Burns had to be left to + himself for the present. Ransome remarked suddenly: + </p> + <p> + “I believe you want a coat, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I do,” I sighed out. + </p> + <p> + But I did not move. What I felt I wanted were new limbs. My arms and legs + seemed utterly useless, fairly worn out. They didn’t even ache. But I + stood up all the same to put on the coat when Ransome brought it up. And + when he suggested that he had better now “take Gambril forward,” I said: + </p> + <p> + “All right. I’ll help you to get him down on the main deck.” + </p> + <p> + I found that I was quite able to help, too. We raised Gambril up between + us. He tried to help himself along like a man but all the time he was + inquiring piteously: + </p> + <p> + “You won’t let me go when we come to the ladder? You won’t let me go when + we come to the ladder?” + </p> + <p> + The breeze kept on freshening and blew true, true to a hair. At daylight + by careful manipulation of the helm we got the foreyards to run square by + themselves (the water keeping smooth) and then went about hauling the + ropes tight. Of the four men I had with me at night, I could see now only + two. I didn’t inquire as to the others. They had given in. For a time only + I hoped. + </p> + <p> + Our various tasks forward occupied us for hours, the two men with me moved + so slow and had to rest so often. One of them remarked that “every blamed + thing in the ship felt about a hundred times heavier than its proper + weight.” This was the only complaint uttered. I don’t know what we should + have done without Ransome. He worked with us, silent, too, with a little + smile frozen on his lips. From time to time I murmured to him: “Go steady”—“Take + it easy, Ransome”—and received a quick glance in reply. + </p> + <p> + When we had done all we could do to make things safe, he disappeared into + his galley. Some time afterward, going forward for a look round, I caught + sight of him through the open door. He sat upright on the locker in front + of the stove, with his head leaning back against the bulkhead. His eyes + were closed; his capable hands held open the front of his thin cotton + shirt baring tragically his powerful chest, which heaved in painful and + laboured gasps. He didn’t hear me. + </p> + <p> + I retreated quietly and went straight on to the poop to relieve Frenchy, + who by that time was beginning to look very sick. He gave me the course + with great formality and tried to go off with a jaunty step, but reeled + widely twice before getting out of my sight. + </p> + <p> + And then I remained all alone aft, steering my ship, which ran before the + wind with a buoyant lift now and then, and even rolling a little. + Presently Ransome appeared before me with a tray. The sight of food made + me ravenous all at once. He took the wheel while I sat down of the after + grating to eat my breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “This breeze seems to have done for our crowd,” he murmured. “It just laid + them low—all hands.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said. “I suppose you and I are the only two fit men in the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “Frenchy says there’s still a jump left in him. I don’t know. It can’t be + much,” continued Ransome with his wistful smile. “Good little man that. + But suppose, sir, that this wind flies round when we are close to the land—what + are we going to do with her?” + </p> + <p> + “If the wind shifts round heavily after we close in with the land she will + either run ashore or get dismasted or both. We won’t be able to do + anything with her. She’s running away with us now. All we can do is to + steer her. She’s a ship without a crew.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. All laid low,” repeated Ransome quietly. “I do give them a look-in + forward every now and then, but it’s precious little I can do for them.” + </p> + <p> + “I, and the ship, and every one on board of her, are very much indebted to + you, Ransome,” I said warmly. + </p> + <p> + He made as though he had not heard me, and steered in silence till I was + ready to relieve him. He surrendered the wheel, picked up the tray, and + for a parting shot informed me that Mr. Burns was awake and seemed to have + a mind to come up on deck. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how to prevent him, sir. I can’t very well stop down below + all the time.” + </p> + <p> + It was clear that he couldn’t. And sure enough Mr. Burns came on deck + dragging himself painfully aft in his enormous overcoat. I beheld him with + a natural dread. To have him around and raving about the wiles of a dead + man while I had to steer a wildly rushing ship full of dying men was a + rather dreadful prospect. + </p> + <p> + But his first remarks were quite sensible in meaning and tone. Apparently + he had no recollection of the night scene. And if he had he didn’t betray + himself once. Neither did he talk very much. He sat on the skylight + looking desperately ill at first, but that strong breeze, before which the + last remnant of my crew had wilted down, seemed to blow a fresh stock of + vigour into his frame with every gust. One could almost see the process. + </p> + <p> + By way of sanity test I alluded on purpose to the late captain. I was + delighted to find that Mr. Burns did not display undue interest in the + subject. He ran over the old tale of that savage ruffian’s iniquities with + a certain vindictive gusto and then concluded unexpectedly: + </p> + <p> + “I do believe, sir, that his brain began to go a year or more before he + died.” + </p> + <p> + A wonderful recovery. I could hardly spare it as much admiration as it + deserved, for I had to give all my mind to the steering. + </p> + <p> + In comparison with the hopeless languour of the preceding days this was + dizzy speed. Two ridges of foam streamed from the ship’s bows; the wind + sang in a strenuous note which under other circumstances would have + expressed to me all the joy of life. Whenever the hauled-up mainsail + started trying to slat and bang itself to pieces in its gear, Mr. Burns + would look at me apprehensively. + </p> + <p> + “What would you have me to do, Mr. Burns? We can neither furl it nor set + it. I only wish the old thing would thrash itself to pieces and be done + with it. That beastly racket confuses me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns wrung his hands, and cried out suddenly: + </p> + <p> + “How will you get the ship into harbour, sir, without men to handle her?” + </p> + <p> + And I couldn’t tell him. + </p> + <p> + Well—it did get done about forty hours afterward. By the exorcising + virtue of Mr. Burns’ awful laugh, the malicious spectre had been laid, the + evil spell broken, the curse removed. We were now in the hands of a kind + and energetic Providence. It was rushing us on. . . . + </p> + <p> + I shall never forget the last night, dark, windy, and starry. I steered. + Mr. Burns, after having obtained from me a solemn promise to give him a + kick if anything happened, went frankly to sleep on the deck close to the + binnacle. Convalescents need sleep. Ransome, his back propped against the + mizzen-mast and a blanket over his legs, remained perfectly still, but I + don’t suppose he closed his eyes for a moment. That embodiment of + jauntiness, Frenchy, still under the delusion that there was a “jump” left + in him, had insisted on joining us; but mindful of discipline, had laid + himself down as far on the forepart of the poop as he could get, alongside + the bucket-rack. + </p> + <p> + And I steered, too tired for anxiety, too tired for connected thought. I + had moments of grim exultation and then my heart would sink awfully at the + thought of that forecastle at the other end of the dark deck, full of + fever-stricken men—some of them dying. By my fault. But never mind. + Remorse must wait. I had to steer. + </p> + <p> + In the small hours the breeze weakened, then failed altogether. About five + it returned, gentle enough, enabling us to head for the roadstead. + Daybreak found Mr. Burns sitting wedged up with coils of rope on the + stern-grating, and from the depths of his overcoat steering the ship with + very white bony hands; while Ransome and I rushed along the decks letting + go all the sheets and halliards by the run. We dashed next up on to the + forecastle head. The perspiration of labour and sheer nervousness simply + poured off our heads as we toiled to get the anchors cock-billed. I dared + not look at Ransome as we worked side by side. We exchanged curt words; I + could hear him panting close to me and I avoided turning my eyes his way + for fear of seeing him fall down and expire in the act of putting forth + his strength—for what? Indeed for some distinct ideal. + </p> + <p> + The consummate seaman in him was aroused. He needed no directions. He knew + what to do. Every effort, every movement was an act of consistent heroism. + It was not for me to look at a man thus inspired. + </p> + <p> + At last all was ready and I heard him say: + </p> + <p> + “Hadn’t I better go down and open the compressors now, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Do,” I said. + </p> + <p> + And even then I did not glance his way. After a time his voice came up + from the main deck. + </p> + <p> + “When you like, sir. All clear on the windlass here.” + </p> + <p> + I made a sign to Mr. Burns to put the helm down and let both anchors go + one after another, leaving the ship to take as much cable as she wanted. + She took the best part of them both before she brought up. The loose sails + coming aback ceased their maddening racket above my head. A perfect + stillness reigned in the ship. And while I stood forward feeling a little + giddy in that sudden peace, I caught faintly a moan or two and the + incoherent mutterings of the sick in the forecastle. + </p> + <p> + As we had a signal for medical assistance flying on the mizzen it is a + fact that before the ship was fairly at rest three steam launches from + various men-of-war were alongside; and at least five naval surgeons had + clambered on board. They stood in a knot gazing up and down the empty main + deck, then looked aloft—where not a man could be seen, either. + </p> + <p> + I went toward them—a solitary figure, in a blue and gray striped + sleeping suit and a pipe-clayed cork helmet on its head. Their disgust was + extreme. They had expected surgical cases. Each one had brought his + carving tools with him. But they soon got over their little + disappointment. In less than five minutes one of the steam launches was + rushing shoreward to order a big boat and some hospital people for the + removal of the crew. The big steam pinnace went off to her ship to bring + over a few bluejackets to furl my sails for me. + </p> + <p> + One of the surgeons had remained on board. He came out of the forecastle + looking impenetrable, and noticed my inquiring gaze. + </p> + <p> + “There’s nobody dead in there, if that’s what you want to know,” he said + deliberately. Then added in a tone of wonder: “The whole crew!” + </p> + <p> + “And very bad?” + </p> + <p> + “And very bad,” he repeated. His eyes were roaming all over the ship. + “Heavens! What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “That,” I said, glancing aft, “is Mr. Burns, my chief officer.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Burns with his moribund head nodding on the stalk of his lean neck was + a sight for any one to exclaim at. The surgeon asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is he going to the hospital, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” I said jocosely. “Mr. Burns can’t go on shore till the mainmast + goes. I am very proud of him. He’s my only convalescent.” + </p> + <p> + “You look—” began the doctor staring at me. But I interrupted him + angrily: + </p> + <p> + “I am not ill.” + </p> + <p> + “No. . . . You look queer.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, I have been seventeen days on deck.” + </p> + <p> + “Seventeen! . . . But you must have slept.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I must have. I don’t know. But I’m certain that I didn’t sleep + for the last forty hours.” + </p> + <p> + “Phew! . . . You will be going ashore presently I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as ever I can. There’s no end of business waiting for me there.” + </p> + <p> + The surgeon released my hand, which he had taken while we talked, pulled + out his pocket-book, wrote in it rapidly, tore out the page and offered it + to me. + </p> + <p> + “I strongly advise you to get this prescription made up for yourself + ashore. Unless I am much mistaken you will need it this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it, then?” I asked with suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Sleeping draught,” answered the surgeon curtly; and moving with an air of + interest toward Mr. Burns he engaged him in conversation. + </p> + <p> + As I went below to dress to go ashore, Ransome followed me. He begged my + pardon; he wished, too, to be sent ashore and paid off. + </p> + <p> + I looked at him in surprise. He was waiting for my answer with an air of + anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mean to leave the ship!” I cried out. + </p> + <p> + “I do really, sir. I want to go and be quiet somewhere. Anywhere. The + hospital will do.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Ransome,” I said. “I hate the idea of parting with you.” + </p> + <p> + “I must go,” he broke in. “I have a right!” . . . He gasped and a look of + almost savage determination passed over his face. For an instant he was + another being. And I saw under the worth and the comeliness of the man the + humble reality of things. Life was a boon to him—this precarious + hard life, and he was thoroughly alarmed about himself. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I shall pay you off if you wish it,” I hastened to say. “Only I + must ask you to remain on board till this afternoon. I can’t leave Mr. + Burns absolutely by himself in the ship for hours.” + </p> + <p> + He softened at once and assured me with a smile and in his natural + pleasant voice that he understood that very well. + </p> + <p> + When I returned on deck everything was ready for the removal of the men. + It was the last ordeal of that episode which had been maturing and + tempering my character—though I did not know it. + </p> + <p> + It was awful. They passed under my eyes one after another—each of + them an embodied reproach of the bitterest kind, till I felt a sort of + revolt wake up in me. Poor Frenchy had gone suddenly under. He was carried + past me insensible, his comic face horribly flushed and as if swollen, + breathing stertorously. He looked more like Mr. Punch than ever; a + disgracefully intoxicated Mr. Punch. + </p> + <p> + The austere Gambril, on the contrary, had improved temporarily. He + insisted on walking on his own feet to the rail—of course with + assistance on each side of him. But he gave way to a sudden panic at the + moment of being swung over the side and began to wail pitifully: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t let them drop me, sir. Don’t let them drop me, sir!” While I kept + on shouting to him in most soothing accents: “All right, Gambril. They + won’t! They won’t!” + </p> + <p> + It was no doubt very ridiculous. The bluejackets on our deck were grinning + quietly, while even Ransome himself (much to the fore in lending a hand) + had to enlarge his wistful smile for a fleeting moment. + </p> + <p> + I left for the shore in the steam pinnace, and on looking back beheld Mr. + Burns actually standing up by the taffrail, still in his enormous woolly + overcoat. The bright sunlight brought out his weirdness amazingly. He + looked like a frightful and elaborate scarecrow set up on the poop of a + death-stricken ship, set up to keep the seabirds from the corpses. + </p> + <p> + Our story had got about already in town and everybody on shore was most + kind. The Marine Office let me off the port dues, and as there happened to + be a shipwrecked crew staying in the Home I had no difficulty in obtaining + as many men as I wanted. But when I inquired if I could see Captain Ellis + for a moment I was told in accents of pity for my ignorance that our + deputy-Neptune had retired and gone home on a pension about three weeks + after I left the port. So I suppose that my appointment was the last act, + outside the daily routine, of his official life. + </p> + <p> + It is strange how on coming ashore I was struck by the springy step, the + lively eyes, the strong vitality of every one I met. It impressed me + enormously. And amongst those I met there was Captain Giles, of course. It + would have been very extraordinary if I had not met him. A prolonged + stroll in the business part of the town was the regular employment of all + his mornings when he was ashore. + </p> + <p> + I caught the glitter of the gold watch-chain across his chest ever so far + away. He radiated benevolence. + </p> + <p> + “What is it I hear?” he queried with a “kind uncle” smile, after shaking + hands. “Twenty-one days from Bangkok?” + </p> + <p> + “Is this all you’ve heard?” I said. “You must come to tiffin with me. I + want you to know exactly what you have let me in for.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated for almost a minute. + </p> + <p> + “Well—I will,” he said condescendingly at last. + </p> + <p> + We turned into the hotel. I found to my surprise that I could eat quite a + lot. Then over the cleared table-cloth I unfolded to Captain Giles the + history of these twenty days in all its professional and emotional + aspects, while he smoked patiently the big cigar I had given him. + </p> + <p> + Then he observed sagely: + </p> + <p> + “You must feel jolly well tired by this time.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I said. “Not tired. But I’ll tell you, Captain Giles, how I feel. I + feel old. And I must be. All of you on shore look to me just a lot of + skittish youngsters that have never known a care in the world.” + </p> + <p> + He didn’t smile. He looked insufferably exemplary. He declared: + </p> + <p> + “That will pass. But you do look older—it’s a fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” I said. + </p> + <p> + “No! No! The truth is that one must not make too much of anything in life, + good or bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Live at half-speed,” I murmured perversely. “Not everybody can do that.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll be glad enough presently if you can keep going even at that rate,” + he retorted with his air of conscious virtue. “And there’s another thing: + a man should stand up to his bad luck, to his mistakes, to his conscience + and all that sort of thing. Why—what else would you have to fight + against.” + </p> + <p> + I kept silent. I don’t know what he saw in my face but he asked abruptly: + </p> + <p> + “Why—you aren’t faint-hearted?” + </p> + <p> + “God only knows, Captain Giles,” was my sincere answer. + </p> + <p> + “That’s all right,” he said calmly. “You will learn soon how not to be + faint-hearted. A man has got to learn everything—and that’s what so + many of them youngsters don’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am no longer a youngster.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he conceded. “Are you leaving soon?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going on board directly,” I said. “I shall pick up one of my anchors + and heave in to half-cable on the other directly my new crew comes on + board and I shall be off at daylight to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + “You will,” grunted Captain Giles approvingly, “that’s the way. You’ll + do.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you think? That I would want to take a week ashore for a rest?” + I said, irritated by his tone. “There’s no rest for me till she’s out in + the Indian Ocean and not much of it even then.” + </p> + <p> + He puffed at his cigar moodily, as if transformed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That’s what it amounts to,” he said in a musing tone. It was as if a + ponderous curtain had rolled up disclosing an unexpected Captain Giles. + But it was only for a moment, just the time to let him add, “Precious + little rest in life for anybody. Better not think of it.” + </p> + <p> + We rose, left the hotel, and parted from each other in the street with a + warm handshake, just as he began to interest me for the first time in our + intercourse. + </p> + <p> + The first thing I saw when I got back to the ship was Ransome on the + quarter-deck sitting quietly on his neatly lashed sea-chest. + </p> + <p> + I beckoned him to follow me into the saloon where I sat down to write a + letter of recommendation for him to a man I knew on shore. + </p> + <p> + When finished I pushed it across the table. “It may be of some good to you + when you leave the hospital.” + </p> + <p> + He took it, put it in his pocket. His eyes were looking away from me—nowhere. + His face was anxiously set. + </p> + <p> + “How are you feeling now?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t feel bad now, sir,” he answered stiffly. “But I am afraid of its + coming on. . . .” The wistful smile came back on his lips for a moment. “I—I + am in a blue funk about my heart, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I approached him with extended hand. His eyes not looking at me had a + strained expression. He was like a man listening for a warning call. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you shake hands, Ransome?” I said gently. + </p> + <p> + He exclaimed, flushed up dusky red, gave my hand a hard wrench—and + next moment, left alone in the cabin, I listened to him going up the + companion stairs cautiously, step by step, in mortal fear of starting into + sudden anger our common enemy it was his hard fate to carry consciously + within his faithful breast. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shadow Line, by Joseph Conrad + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHADOW LINE *** + +***** This file should be named 451-h.htm or 451-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/5/451/ + +Produced by Judith Boss and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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