章节正文
say to that?
The fellow had the audacity to fly out at the Master-
Attendant. He had received the advice in a most im-
pudent manner. "I didn't come here to be laughed at,"
he had shrieked. "I appeal to you as an Englishman
and a shipowner brought to the verge of ruin by an
illegal conspiracy of your beggarly sailors, and all you
condescend to do for me is to tell me to go and get a
partner!" . . . The fellow had presumed to stamp
with rage on the floor of the private office. Where was
he going to get a partner? Was he being taken for
a fool? Not a single one of that contemptible lot ashore
at the "Home" had twopence in his pocket to bless
himself with. The very native curs in the bazaar knew
that much. . . . "And it's true enough, Harry," rum-
bled Captain Eliott judicially. "They are much more
likely one and all to owe money to the Chinamen in
Denham Road for the clothes on their backs. 'Well,'
said I, 'you make too much noise over it for my taste,
Mr. Massy. Good morning.' He banged the door after
him; he dared to bang my door, confound his cheek!"
The head of the Marine department was out of breath
with indignation; then recollecting himself as it were,
"I'll end by being late to dinner--yarning with you
here . . . wife doesn't like it."
He clambered ponderously into the trap; leaned out
sideways, and only then wondered wheezily what on
earth Captain Whalley could have been doing with
himself of late. They had had no sight of each other
for years and years till the other day when he had seen
him unexpectedly in the office.
What on earth . . .
Captain Whalley seemed to be smiling to himself in his
white beard.
"The earth is big," he said vaguely.
The other, as if to test the statement, stared all round
from his driving-seat. The Esplanade was very quiet;
only from afar, from very far, a long way from the sea-
shore, across the stretches of grass, through the long
ranges of trees, came faintly the toot--toot--toot of
the cable car beginning to roll before the empty peristyle
of the Public Library on its three-mile journey to the
New Harbor Docks.
"Doesn't seem to be so much room on it," growled the
Master-Attendant, "since these Germans came along
shouldering us at every turn. It was not so in our
time."
He fell into deep thought, breathing stertorously, as
though he had been taking a nap open-eyed. Perhaps
he too, on his side, had detected in the silent pilgrim-
like figure, standing there by the wheel, like an arrested
wayfarer, the buried lineaments of the features belong-
ing to the young captain of the Condor. Good fellow--
Harry Whalley--never very talkative. You never
knew what he was up to--a bit too off-hand with people
of consequence, and apt to take a wrong view of a fel-
low's actions. Fact was he had a too good opinion of
himself. He would have liked to tell him to get in and
drive him home to dinner. But one never knew. Wife
would not like it.
"And it's funny to think, Harry," he went on in a
big, subdued drone, "that of all the people on it there
seems only you and I left to remember this part of the
world as it used to be . . ."
He was ready to indulge in the sweetness of a senti-
mental mood had it not struck him suddenly that Cap-
tain Whalley, unstirring and without a word, seemed
to be awaiting something--perhaps expecting . . . He
gathered the reins at once and burst out in bluff, hearty
growls--
"Ha! My dear boy. The men we have known--the
ships we've sailed--ay! and the things we've done . . ."
The pony plunged--the syce skipped out of the way.
Captain Whalley raised his arm.
"Good-by."
VI
The sun had set. And when, after drilling a deep hole
with his stick, he moved from that spot the night had
massed its army of shadows under the trees. They
filled the eastern ends of the avenues as if only waiting
the signal for a general advance upon the open spaces
of the world; they were gathering low between the deep
stone-faced banks of the canal. The Malay prau, half-
concealed under the arch of the bridge, had not altered
its position a quarter of an inch. For a long time Cap-
tain Whalley stared down over the parapet, till at last
the floating immobility of that beshrouded thing seemed
to grow upon him into something inexplicable and
alarming. The twilightabandoned the zenith; its re-
flected gleams left the world below, and the water of the
canal seemed to turn into pitch. Captain Whalley
crossed it.
The turning to the right, which was his way to his
hotel, was only a very few steps farther. He stopped
again (all the houses of the sea-front were shut up, the
quayside was deserted, but for one or two figures of
natives walking in the distance) and began to reckon the
amount of his bill. So many days in the hotel at so
many dollars a day. To count the days he used his
fingers: plunging one hand into his pocket, he jingled a
few silver coins. All right for three days more; and
then, unless something turned up, he must break into
the five hundred--Ivy's money--invested in her father.
It seemed to him that the first meal coming out of that
reserve would choke him--for certain. Reason was of
no use. It was a matter of feeling. His feelings had
never played him false.
He did not turn to the right. He walked on, as if
there still had been a ship in the roadstead to which
he could get himself pulled off in the evening. Far
away, beyond the houses, on the slope of an indigo
promontory closing the view of the quays, the slim
column of a factory-chimney smoked quietly straight
up into the clear air. A Chinaman, curled down in the
stern of one of the half-dozen sampans floating off the
end of the jetty, caught sight of a beckoning hand.
He jumped up, rolled his pigtail round his head swiftly,
tucked in two rapid movements his wide dark trousers
high up his yellow thighs, and by a single, noiseless, fin-
like stir of the oars, sheered the sampan alongside the
steps with the ease and precision of a swimming
fish.
"Sofala," articulated Captain Whalley from above;
and the Chinaman, a new emigrant probably, stared
upwards with a tense attention as if waiting to see the
queer word fall visibly from the white man's lips.
"Sofala," Captain Whalley repeated; and suddenly his
heart failed him. He paused. The shores, the islets, the
high ground, the low points, were dark: the horizon had
grown somber; and across the eastern sweep of the shore
the white obelisk, marking the landing-place of the
telegraph-cable, stood like a pale ghost on the beach
before the dark spread of uneven roofs, intermingled
with palms, of the native town. Captain Whalley be-
gan again.
"Sofala. Savee So-fa-la, John?"
This time the Chinaman made out that bizarre sound,
and grunted his assent uncouthly, low down in his bare
throat. With the first yellow twinkle of a star that ap-
peared like the head of a pin stabbed deep into the
smooth, pale, shimmering fabric of the sky, the edge
of a keen chill seemed to cleave through the warm air
of the earth. At the moment of stepping into the sam-
pan to go and try for the command of the Sofala Cap-
tain Whalley shivered a little.
When on his return he landed on the quay again Venus,
like a choice jewel set low on the hem of the sky, cast
a faint gold trail behind him upon the roadstead, as
level as a floor made of one dark and polished stone.
The lofty vaults of the avenues were black--all black
overhead--and the porcelain globes on the lamp-posts
resembled egg-shaped pearls, gigantic and luminous,
displayed in a row whose farther end seemed to sink
in the distance, down to the level of his knees. He put
his hands behind his back. He would now consider
calmly the discretion of it before saying the final word
to-morrow. His feet scrunched the gravel loudly--the
discretion of it. It would have been easier to appraise
had there been a workable alternative. The honesty of
it was indubitable: he meant well by the fellow; and
periodically his shadow leaped up intense by his side on
the trunks of the trees, to lengthen itself, oblique and
dim, far over the grass--repeating his stride.
The discretion of it. Was there a choice? He seemed
already to have lost something of himself; to have given
up to a hungry specter something of his truth and dig-
nity in order to live. But his life was necessary. Let
poverty do its worst in exacting its toll of humiliation.
It was certain that Ned Eliott had rendered him, with-
out knowing it, a service for which it would have been
impossible to ask. He hoped Ned would not think there
had been something underhand in his action. He sup-
posed that now when he heard of it he would understand
--or perhaps he would only think Whalley an eccentric
old fool. What would have been the good of telling
him--any more than of blurting the whole tale to that
man Massy? Five hundred pounds ready to invest. Let
him make the best of that. Let him wonder. You want
a captain--I want a ship. That's enough. B-r-r-r-r.
What a disagreeableimpression that empty, dark,
echoing steamer had made upon him. . . .
A laid-up steamer was a dead thing and no mistake;
a sailing-ship somehow seems always ready to spring
into life with the breath of the incorruptible heaven;
but a teamer, thought Captain Whalley, with her fires
out, without the warm whiffs from below meeting you on
her decks, without the hiss of steam, the clangs of iron
in her breast--lies there as cold and still and pulseless as
a corpse.
In the solitude of the avenue, all black above and
lighted below, Captain Whalley, considering the dis-
cretion of his course, met, as it were incidentally, the
thought of death. He pushed it aside with dislike and
contempt. He almost laughed at it; and in the un-
quenchable vitality of his age only thought with a kind
of exultation how little he needed to keep body and soul
together. Not a bad investment for the poor woman
this solid carcass of her father. And for the rest--in
case of anything--the agreement should be clear: the
whole five hundred to be paid back to her integrally
within three months. Integrally. Every penny. He
The fellow had the audacity to fly out at the Master-
Attendant. He had received the advice in a most im-
pudent manner. "I didn't come here to be laughed at,"
he had shrieked. "I appeal to you as an Englishman
and a shipowner brought to the verge of ruin by an
illegal conspiracy of your beggarly sailors, and all you
condescend to do for me is to tell me to go and get a
partner!" . . . The fellow had presumed to stamp
with rage on the floor of the private office. Where was
he going to get a partner? Was he being taken for
a fool? Not a single one of that contemptible lot ashore
at the "Home" had twopence in his pocket to bless
himself with. The very native curs in the bazaar knew
that much. . . . "And it's true enough, Harry," rum-
bled Captain Eliott judicially. "They are much more
likely one and all to owe money to the Chinamen in
Denham Road for the clothes on their backs. 'Well,'
said I, 'you make too much noise over it for my taste,
Mr. Massy. Good morning.' He banged the door after
him; he dared to bang my door, confound his cheek!"
The head of the Marine department was out of breath
with indignation; then recollecting himself as it were,
"I'll end by being late to dinner--yarning with you
here . . . wife doesn't like it."
He clambered ponderously into the trap; leaned out
sideways, and only then wondered wheezily what on
earth Captain Whalley could have been doing with
himself of late. They had had no sight of each other
for years and years till the other day when he had seen
him unexpectedly in the office.
What on earth . . .
Captain Whalley seemed to be smiling to himself in his
white beard.
"The earth is big," he said vaguely.
The other, as if to test the statement, stared all round
from his driving-seat. The Esplanade was very quiet;
only from afar, from very far, a long way from the sea-
shore, across the stretches of grass, through the long
ranges of trees, came faintly the toot--toot--toot of
the cable car beginning to roll before the empty peristyle
of the Public Library on its three-mile journey to the
New Harbor Docks.
"Doesn't seem to be so much room on it," growled the
Master-Attendant, "since these Germans came along
shouldering us at every turn. It was not so in our
time."
He fell into deep thought, breathing stertorously, as
though he had been taking a nap open-eyed. Perhaps
he too, on his side, had detected in the silent pilgrim-
like figure, standing there by the wheel, like an arrested
wayfarer, the buried lineaments of the features belong-
ing to the young captain of the Condor. Good fellow--
Harry Whalley--never very talkative. You never
knew what he was up to--a bit too off-hand with people
of consequence, and apt to take a wrong view of a fel-
low's actions. Fact was he had a too good opinion of
himself. He would have liked to tell him to get in and
drive him home to dinner. But one never knew. Wife
would not like it.
"And it's funny to think, Harry," he went on in a
big, subdued drone, "that of all the people on it there
seems only you and I left to remember this part of the
world as it used to be . . ."
He was ready to indulge in the sweetness of a senti-
mental mood had it not struck him suddenly that Cap-
tain Whalley, unstirring and without a word, seemed
to be awaiting something--perhaps expecting . . . He
gathered the reins at once and burst out in bluff, hearty
growls--
"Ha! My dear boy. The men we have known--the
ships we've sailed--ay! and the things we've done . . ."
The pony plunged--the syce skipped out of the way.
Captain Whalley raised his arm.
"Good-by."
VI
The sun had set. And when, after drilling a deep hole
with his stick, he moved from that spot the night had
massed its army of shadows under the trees. They
filled the eastern ends of the avenues as if only waiting
the signal for a general advance upon the open spaces
of the world; they were gathering low between the deep
stone-faced banks of the canal. The Malay prau, half-
concealed under the arch of the bridge, had not altered
its position a quarter of an inch. For a long time Cap-
tain Whalley stared down over the parapet, till at last
the floating immobility of that beshrouded thing seemed
to grow upon him into something inexplicable and
alarming. The twilightabandoned the zenith; its re-
flected gleams left the world below, and the water of the
canal seemed to turn into pitch. Captain Whalley
crossed it.
The turning to the right, which was his way to his
hotel, was only a very few steps farther. He stopped
again (all the houses of the sea-front were shut up, the
quayside was deserted, but for one or two figures of
natives walking in the distance) and began to reckon the
amount of his bill. So many days in the hotel at so
many dollars a day. To count the days he used his
fingers: plunging one hand into his pocket, he jingled a
few silver coins. All right for three days more; and
then, unless something turned up, he must break into
the five hundred--Ivy's money--invested in her father.
It seemed to him that the first meal coming out of that
reserve would choke him--for certain. Reason was of
no use. It was a matter of feeling. His feelings had
never played him false.
He did not turn to the right. He walked on, as if
there still had been a ship in the roadstead to which
he could get himself pulled off in the evening. Far
away, beyond the houses, on the slope of an indigo
promontory closing the view of the quays, the slim
column of a factory-chimney smoked quietly straight
up into the clear air. A Chinaman, curled down in the
stern of one of the half-dozen sampans floating off the
end of the jetty, caught sight of a beckoning hand.
He jumped up, rolled his pigtail round his head swiftly,
tucked in two rapid movements his wide dark trousers
high up his yellow thighs, and by a single, noiseless, fin-
like stir of the oars, sheered the sampan alongside the
steps with the ease and precision of a swimming
fish.
"Sofala," articulated Captain Whalley from above;
and the Chinaman, a new emigrant probably, stared
upwards with a tense attention as if waiting to see the
queer word fall visibly from the white man's lips.
"Sofala," Captain Whalley repeated; and suddenly his
heart failed him. He paused. The shores, the islets, the
high ground, the low points, were dark: the horizon had
grown somber; and across the eastern sweep of the shore
the white obelisk, marking the landing-place of the
telegraph-cable, stood like a pale ghost on the beach
before the dark spread of uneven roofs, intermingled
with palms, of the native town. Captain Whalley be-
gan again.
"Sofala. Savee So-fa-la, John?"
This time the Chinaman made out that bizarre sound,
and grunted his assent uncouthly, low down in his bare
throat. With the first yellow twinkle of a star that ap-
peared like the head of a pin stabbed deep into the
smooth, pale, shimmering fabric of the sky, the edge
of a keen chill seemed to cleave through the warm air
of the earth. At the moment of stepping into the sam-
pan to go and try for the command of the Sofala Cap-
tain Whalley shivered a little.
When on his return he landed on the quay again Venus,
like a choice jewel set low on the hem of the sky, cast
a faint gold trail behind him upon the roadstead, as
level as a floor made of one dark and polished stone.
The lofty vaults of the avenues were black--all black
overhead--and the porcelain globes on the lamp-posts
resembled egg-shaped pearls, gigantic and luminous,
displayed in a row whose farther end seemed to sink
in the distance, down to the level of his knees. He put
his hands behind his back. He would now consider
calmly the discretion of it before saying the final word
to-morrow. His feet scrunched the gravel loudly--the
discretion of it. It would have been easier to appraise
had there been a workable alternative. The honesty of
it was indubitable: he meant well by the fellow; and
periodically his shadow leaped up intense by his side on
the trunks of the trees, to lengthen itself, oblique and
dim, far over the grass--repeating his stride.
The discretion of it. Was there a choice? He seemed
already to have lost something of himself; to have given
up to a hungry specter something of his truth and dig-
nity in order to live. But his life was necessary. Let
poverty do its worst in exacting its toll of humiliation.
It was certain that Ned Eliott had rendered him, with-
out knowing it, a service for which it would have been
impossible to ask. He hoped Ned would not think there
had been something underhand in his action. He sup-
posed that now when he heard of it he would understand
--or perhaps he would only think Whalley an eccentric
old fool. What would have been the good of telling
him--any more than of blurting the whole tale to that
man Massy? Five hundred pounds ready to invest. Let
him make the best of that. Let him wonder. You want
a captain--I want a ship. That's enough. B-r-r-r-r.
What a disagreeableimpression that empty, dark,
echoing steamer had made upon him. . . .
A laid-up steamer was a dead thing and no mistake;
a sailing-ship somehow seems always ready to spring
into life with the breath of the incorruptible heaven;
but a teamer, thought Captain Whalley, with her fires
out, without the warm whiffs from below meeting you on
her decks, without the hiss of steam, the clangs of iron
in her breast--lies there as cold and still and pulseless as
a corpse.
In the solitude of the avenue, all black above and
lighted below, Captain Whalley, considering the dis-
cretion of his course, met, as it were incidentally, the
thought of death. He pushed it aside with dislike and
contempt. He almost laughed at it; and in the un-
quenchable vitality of his age only thought with a kind
of exultation how little he needed to keep body and soul
together. Not a bad investment for the poor woman
this solid carcass of her father. And for the rest--in
case of anything--the agreement should be clear: the
whole five hundred to be paid back to her integrally
within three months. Integrally. Every penny. He
- partner [´pɑ:tnə]
n.伙伴 v.同....合作 (初中英语单词) - beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- consequence [´kɔnsikwəns] n.结果；后果；推断 (初中英语单词)
- twilight [´twailait] n.黎明；黄昏 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- horizon [hə´raizən] n.地平线；范围；视野 (初中英语单词)
- twinkle [´twiŋkl] vi.&n.闪烁；眨眼 (初中英语单词)
- fabric [´fæbrik] n.织物；结构；组织 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- invest [in´vest] v.投资；授予 (初中英语单词)
- impression [im´preʃən] n.印刷；印象；效果 (初中英语单词)
- steamer [´sti:mə] n.汽船；轮船；蒸笼 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- dislike [dis´laik] vt.&n.不喜爱，厌恶 (初中英语单词)
- investment [in´vestmənt] n.投资；(时间等)投入 (初中英语单词)
- agreement [ə´gri:mənt] n.同意；一致；协议 (初中英语单词)
- appeal [ə´pi:l] vi.&n.请求；呼吁；上诉 (高中英语单词)
- conspiracy [kən´spirəsi] n.密谋；协同作用 (高中英语单词)
- confound [kən´faund] v.混淆；使惊惶 (高中英语单词)
- marine [mə´ri:n] a.海的 n.海军陆战队 (高中英语单词)
- indignation [,indig´neiʃən] n.愤慨；气愤 (高中英语单词)
- faintly [´feintli] ad.微弱地，软弱无力的 (高中英语单词)
- indulge [in´dʌldʒ] v.(使)沉迷；沉溺；放任 (高中英语单词)
- sweetness [´swi:tnis] n.甜蜜；芳香；亲切 (高中英语单词)
- alongside [əlɔŋ´said] ad.在旁 prep.横靠 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- assent [ə´sent] vi.&n.同意，赞成 (高中英语单词)
- gigantic [dʒai´gæntik] a.巨大的 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- gravel [´grævəl] n.砾石 vt.铺砾石 (高中英语单词)
- honesty [´ɔnisti] n.诚实，老实 (高中英语单词)
- intense [in´tens] a.强烈的；紧张的 (高中英语单词)
- disagreeable [,disə´gri:əbl] a.令人不悦的 (高中英语单词)
- solitude [´sɔlitju:d] n.孤独；寂寞；荒凉 (高中英语单词)
- audacity [ɔ:´dæsiti] n.大胆；卤莽；无礼 (英语四级单词)
- unexpectedly [´ʌniks´pektidli] ad.意外地；突然地 (英语四级单词)
- gathering [´gæðəriŋ] n.集会，聚集 (英语四级单词)
- bridge [bridʒ] n.桥(梁)；鼻梁；桥牌 (英语四级单词)
- precision [pri´siʒən] n.精密(度) a.精确的 (英语四级单词)
- emigrant [´emigrənt] n.&a.移(侨)民的 (英语四级单词)
- somber [´sɔmbə] a.昏暗的；忧郁的 (英语四级单词)
- uneven [ʌn´i:vən] a.崎岖的；不匀的 (英语四级单词)
- cleave [kli:v] v.劈(开) vi.粘住；依恋 (英语四级单词)
- porcelain [´pɔ:slin] n.瓷 a.瓷的；精美的 (英语四级单词)
- discretion [di´skreʃən] n.谨慎；判断(力) (英语四级单词)
- alternative [ɔ:l´tə:nətiv] a.二中选一的 n.选择 (英语四级单词)
- lengthen [´leŋθən] v.(使)变长，延伸 (英语四级单词)
- considering [kən´sidəriŋ] prep.就...而论 (英语四级单词)
- incidentally [,insi´dentəli] ad.顺便一提；偶然地 (英语四级单词)
- vitality [vai´tæliti] n.活力；生命力；效力 (英语四级单词)
- carcass [´kɑ:kəs] n.(动物的)尸体 (英语四级单词)
- contemptible [kən´temptəbəl] a.可鄙的；可轻视的 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- inexplicable [,inik´splikəbəl] a.难以理解的 (英语六级单词)
- abandoned [ə´bændənd] a.被抛弃的；无约束的 (英语六级单词)
- zenith [´ziniθ] n.天顶，顶点；全盛 (英语六级单词)
- oblique [ə´bli:k] a.歪斜的 vi.倾斜 (英语六级单词)
- specter [´spektə] n.鬼怪，幽灵 (英语六级单词)
- exacting [ig´zæktiŋ] a.苛求的；严格的 (英语六级单词)
- exultation [egzʌl´teiʃən] n.欢腾，狂欢 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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