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End of the Tether-Part16_JOSEPH CONRAD (1857-1924)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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and with iron padlocks fitted exactly in the space under



the bunk. One glance was enough to embrace all the

strip of scrubbed planks within the four unconcealed



corners. The absence of the usual settee was striking;

the teak-wood top of the washing-stand seemed hermeti-



cally closed, and so was the lid of the writing-desk,

which protruded from the partition at the foot of the



bed-place, containing a mattress as thin as a pancake

under a threadbare blanket with a faded red stripe, and



a folded mosquito-net against the nights spent in harbor.

There was not a scrap of paper anywhere in sight, no



boots on the floor, no litter of any sort, not a speck of

dust anywhere; no traces of pipe-ash even, which, in



a heavy smoker, was morally revolting, like a manifesta-

tion of extremehypocrisy; and the bottom of the old



wooden arm-chair (the only seat there), polished with

much use, shone as if its shabbiness had been waxed.



The screen of leaves on the bank, passing as if unrolled

endlessly in the round opening of the port, sent a waver-



ing network of light and shade into the place.

Sterne, holding the door open with one hand, had thrust



in his head and shoulders. At this amazing intrusion

Massy, who was doing absolutely nothing, jumped up



speechless.

"Don't call names," murmured Sterne hurriedly. "I



won't be called names. I think of nothing but your

good, Mr. Massy."



A pause as of extremeastonishment followed. They

both seemed to have lost their tongues. Then the mate



went on with a discreet glibness.

"You simply couldn't conceive what's going on on



board your ship. It wouldn't enter your head for a

moment. You are too good--too--too upright, Mr.



Massy, to suspect anybody of such a . . . It's enough

to make your hair stand on end."



He watched for the effect: Massy seemed dazed, un-

comprehending. He only passed the palm of his hand



on the coal-black wisps plastered across the top of his

head. In a tone suddenly changed to confidential au-



dacity Sterne hastened on.

"Remember that there's only six weeks left to



run . . ." The other was looking at him stonily . . .

"so anyhow you shall require a captain for the ship



before long."

Then only, as if that suggestion had scarified his flesh



in the manner of red-hot iron, Massy gave a start and

seemed ready to shriek. He contained himself by a



great effort.

"Require a captain," he repeated with scathing slow-



ness. "Who requires a captain? You dare to tell me

that I need any of you humbugging sailors to run my



ship. You and your likes have been fattening on me

for years. It would have hurt me less to throw



my money overboard. Pam--pe--red us--e--less

f-f-f-frauds. The old ship knows as much as the best



of you." He snapped his teeth audibly and growled

through them, "The silly law requires a captain."



Sterne had taken heart of grace meantime.

"And the silly insurance people too, as well," he said



lightly. "But never mind that. What I want to ask

is: Why shouldn't _I_ do, sir? I don't say but you could



take a steamer about the world as well as any of us

sailors. I don't pretend to tell YOU that it is a very



great trick . . ." He emitted a short, hollow guffaw,

familiarly . . . "I didn't make the law--but there it



is; and I am an active young fellow! I quite hold with

your ideas; I know your ways by this time, Mr. Massy.



I wouldn't try to give myself airs like that--that--er

lazy specimen of an old man up there."



He put a marked emphasis on the last sentence, to

lead Massy away from the track in case . . . but he



did not doubt of now holding his success. The chief




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