English
Theremainderofthedaypasseduneventfully.
Theyoungslipofagale,havingwettedourgills,proceededtomoderate.
Thefourthengineerandthethreeoilers,afterawarminterviewwithWolfLarsen,werefurnishedwithoutfitsfromtheslop-chests,assignedplacesunderthehuntersinthevariousboatsandwatchesonthevessel,andbundledforwardintotheforecastle.
Theywentprotestingly,buttheirvoiceswerenotloud.
TheywereawedbywhattheyhadalreadyseenofWolfLarsen’scharacter,whilethetaleofwoetheyspeedilyheardintheforecastletookthelastbitofrebellionoutofthem.
MissBrewster—wehadlearnedhernamefromtheengineer—sleptonandon.
AtsupperIrequestedthehunterstolowertheirvoices,soshewasnotdisturbed;anditwasnottillnextmorningthatshemadeherappearance.
Ithadbeenmyintentiontohavehermealsservedapart,butWolfLarsenputdownhisfoot.
Whowasshethatsheshouldbetoogoodforcabintableandcabinsociety?hadbeenhisdemand.
Buthercomingtothetablehadsomethingamusinginit.Thehuntersfellsilentasclams.
JockHornerandSmokealonewereunabashed,stealingstealthyglancesathernowandagain,andeventakingpartintheconversation.
Theotherfourmengluedtheireyesontheirplatesandchewedsteadilyandwiththoughtfulprecision,theirearsmovingandwobbling,intimewiththeirjaws,liketheearsofsomanyanimals.
WolfLarsenhadlittletosayatfirst,doingnomorethanreplywhenhewasaddressed.Notthathewasabashed.Farfromit.
Thiswomanwasanewtypetohim,adifferentbreedfromanyhehadeverknown,andhewascurious.
Hestudiedher,hiseyesrarelyleavingherfaceunlesstofollowthemovementsofherhandsorshoulders.
Istudiedhermyself,andthoughitwasIwhomaintainedtheconversation,IknowthatIwasabitshy,notquiteself-possessed.
Hiswastheperfectpoise,thesupremeconfidenceinself,whichnothingcouldshake;andhewasnomoretimidofawomanthanhewasofstormandbattle.
“AndwhenshallwearriveatYokohama?”sheasked,turningtohimandlookinghimsquarelyintheeyes.
Thereitwas,thequestionflat.Thejawsstoppedworking,theearsceasedwobbling,andthougheyesremainedgluedonplates,eachmanlistenedgreedilyfortheanswer.
“Infourmonths,possiblythreeiftheseasonclosesearly,”WolfLarsensaid.
Shecaughtherbreathandstammered,“I—Ithought—IwasgiventounderstandthatYokohamawasonlyaday’ssailaway.
It—”Hereshepausedandlookedaboutthetableatthecircleofunsympatheticfacesstaringhardattheplates.“Itisnotright,”sheconcluded.
“ThatisaquestionyoumustsettlewithMr.VanWeydenthere,”hereplied,noddingtomewithamischievoustwinkle.
“Mr.VanWeydeniswhatyoumaycallanauthorityonsuchthingsasrights.
NowI,whoamonlyasailor,wouldlookuponthesituationsomewhatdifferently.
Itmaypossiblybeyourmisfortunethatyouhavetoremainwithus,butitiscertainlyourgoodfortune.”
Heregardedhersmilingly.Hereyesfellbeforehisgaze,butsheliftedthemagain,anddefiantly,tomine.
Ireadtheunspokenquestionthere:wasitright?
ButIhaddecidedthatthepartIwastoplaymustbeaneutralone,soIdidnotanswer.
“Whatdoyouthink?”shedemanded.
“Thatitisunfortunate,especiallyifyouhaveanyengagementsfallingdueinthecourseofthenextseveralmonths.
But,sinceyousaythatyouwerevoyagingtoJapanforyourhealth,IcanassureyouthatitwillimprovenobetteranywherethanaboardtheGhost.”
Isawhereyesflashwithindignation,andthistimeitwasIwhodroppedmine,whileIfeltmyfaceflushingunderhergaze.Itwascowardly,butwhatelsecouldIdo?
“Mr.VanWeydenspeakswiththevoiceofauthority,”WolfLarsenlaughed.
Inoddedmyhead,andshe,havingrecoveredherself,waitedexpectantly.
“Notthatheismuchtospeakofnow,”WolfLarsenwenton,“buthehasimprovedwonderfully.
Youshouldhaveseenhimwhenhecameonboard.
Amorescrawny,pitifulspecimenofhumanityonecouldhardlyconceive.Isn’tthatso,Kerfoot?”
Kerfoot,thusdirectlyaddressed,wasstartledintodroppinghisknifeonthefloor,thoughhemanagedtogruntaffirmation.
“Developedhimselfbypeelingpotatoesandwashingdishes.Eh,Kerfoot?”
Againthatworthygrunted.
“Lookathimnow.True,heisnotwhatyouwouldtermmuscular,butstillhehasmuscles,whichismorethanhehadwhenhecameaboard.Also,hehaslegstostandon.
Youwouldnotthinksotolookathim,buthewasquiteunabletostandaloneatfirst.”
Thehuntersweresnickering,butshelookedatmewithasympathyinhereyeswhichmorethancompensatedforWolfLarsen’snastiness.
Intruth,ithadbeensolongsinceIhadreceivedsympathythatIwassoftened,andIbecamethen,andgladly,herwillingslave.ButIwasangrywithWolfLarsen.
Hewaschallengingmymanhoodwithhisslurs,challengingtheverylegsheclaimedtobeinstrumentalingettingforme.
“Imayhavelearnedtostandonmyownlegs,”Iretorted.“ButIhaveyettostampuponotherswiththem.”
Helookedatmeinsolently.“Youreducationisonlyhalfcompleted,then,”hesaiddryly,andturnedtoher.
“WeareveryhospitableupontheGhost.Mr.VanWeydenhasdiscoveredthat.Wedoeverythingtomakeourguestsfeelathome,eh,Mr.VanWeyden?”
“Eventothepeelingofpotatoesandthewashingofdishes,”Ianswered,“tosaynothingtowringingtheirnecksoutofveryfellowship.”
“IbegofyounottoreceivefalseimpressionsofusfromMr.VanWeyden,”heinterposedwithmockanxiety.
“Youwillobserve,MissBrewster,thathecarriesadirkinhisbelt,a—ahem—amostunusualthingforaship’sofficertodo.
Whilereallyveryestimable,Mr.VanWeydenissometimes—howshallIsay?
—er—quarrelsome,andharshmeasuresarenecessary.
Heisquitereasonableandfairinhiscalmmoments,andasheiscalmnowhewillnotdenythatonlyyesterdayhethreatenedmylife.”
Iwaswell-nighchoking,andmyeyeswerecertainlyfiery.Hedrewattentiontome.
“Lookathimnow.Hecanscarcelycontrolhimselfinyourpresence.Heisnotaccustomedtothepresenceofladiesanyway.IshallhavetoarmmyselfbeforeIdaregoondeckwithhim.”
Heshookhisheadsadly,murmuring,“Toobad,toobad,”whilethehuntersburstintoguffawsoflaughter.
Thedeep-seavoicesofthesemen,rumblingandbellowingintheconfinedspace,producedawildeffect.
Thewholesettingwaswild,andforthefirsttime,regardingthisstrangewomanandrealizinghowincongruousshewasinit,IwasawareofhowmuchapartofitIwasmyself.
Iknewthesemenandtheirmentalprocesses,wasoneofthemmyself,livingtheseal-huntinglife,eatingtheseal-huntingfare,thinking,largely,theseal-huntingthoughts.
Therewasformenostrangenesstoit,totheroughclothes,thecoarsefaces,thewildlaughter,andthelurchingcabinwallsandswayingsea-lamps.
AsIbutteredapieceofbreadmyeyeschancedtorestuponmyhand.
Theknuckleswereskinnedandinflamedclearacross,thefingersswollen,thenailsrimmedwithblack.
Ifeltthemattress-likegrowthofbeardonmyneck,knewthatthesleeveofmycoatwasripped,thatabuttonwasmissingfromthethroatoftheblueshirtIwore.
ThedirkmentionedbyWolfLarsenrestedinitssheathonmyhip.
Itwasverynaturalthatitshouldbethere,—hownaturalIhadnotimagineduntilnow,whenIlookeduponitwithhereyesandknewhowstrangeitandallthatwentwithitmustappeartoher.
ButshedivinedthemockeryinWolfLarsen’swords,andagainfavouredmewithasympatheticglance.
Buttherewasalookofbewildermentalsoinhereyes.
Thatitwasmockerymadethesituationmorepuzzlingtoher.
“Imaybetakenoffbysomepassingvessel,perhaps,”shesuggested.
“Therewillbenopassingvessels,exceptothersealing-schooners,”WolfLarsenmadeanswer.
“Ihavenoclothes,nothing,”sheobjected.“Youhardlyrealize,sir,thatIamnotaman,orthatIamunaccustomedtothevagrant,carelesslifewhichyouandyourmenseemtolead.”
“Thesooneryougetaccustomedtoit,thebetter,”hesaid.
“I’llfurnishyouwithcloth,needles,andthread,”headded.“Ihopeitwillnotbetoodreadfulahardshipforyoutomakeyourselfadressortwo.”
Shemadeawrypuckerwithhermouth,asthoughtoadvertiseherignoranceofdressmaking.Thatshewasfrightenedandbewildered,andthatshewasbravelystrivingtohideit,wasquiteplaintome.
“Isupposeyou’relikeMr.VanWeydenthere,accustomedtohavingthingsdoneforyou.
Well,Ithinkdoingafewthingsforyourselfwillhardlydislocateanyjoints.
Bytheway,whatdoyoudoforaliving?”
Sheregardedhimwithamazementunconcealed.
“Imeannooffence,believeme.Peopleeat,thereforetheymustprocurethewherewithal.
Thesemenhereshootsealsinordertolive;forthesamereasonIsailthisschooner;andMr.VanWeyden,forthepresentatanyrate,earnshissaltygrubbyassistingme.Nowwhatdoyoudo?”
Sheshruggedhershoulders.
“Doyoufeedyourself?Ordoessomeoneelsefeedyou?”
“I’mafraidsomeoneelsehasfedmemostofmylife,”shelaughed,tryingbravelytoenterintothespiritofhisquizzing,thoughIcouldseeaterrordawningandgrowinginhereyesasshewatchedWolfLarsen.
“AndIsupposesomeoneelsemakesyourbedforyou?”
“Ihavemadebeds,”shereplied.
“Veryoften?”
Sheshookherheadwithmockruefulness.
“DoyouknowwhattheydotopoormenintheStates,who,likeyou,donotworkfortheirliving?”
“Iamveryignorant,”shepleaded.“Whatdotheydotothepoormenwhoarelikeme?”
“Theysendthemtojail.Thecrimeofnotearningaliving,intheircase,iscalledvagrancy.
IfIwereMr.VanWeyden,whoharpseternallyonquestionsofrightandwrong,I’dask,bywhatrightdoyoulivewhenyoudonothingtodeserveliving?”
“ButasyouarenotMr.VanWeyden,Idon’thavetoanswer,doI?”
Shebeameduponhimthroughherterror-filledeyes,andthepathosofitcutmetotheheart.Imustinsomewaybreakinandleadtheconversationintootherchannels.
“Haveyoueverearnedadollarbyyourownlabour?”hedemanded,certainofheranswer,atriumphantvindictivenessinhisvoice.
“Yes,Ihave,”sheansweredslowly,andIcouldhavelaughedaloudathiscrestfallenvisage.
“Iremembermyfathergivingmeadollaronce,whenIwasalittlegirl,forremainingabsolutelyquietforfiveminutes.”
Hesmiledindulgently.
“Butthatwaslongago,”shecontinued.“Andyouwouldscarcelydemandalittlegirlofninetoearnherownliving.”
“Atpresent,however,”shesaid,afteranotherslightpause,“Iearnabouteighteenhundreddollarsayear.”
Withoneaccord,alleyeslefttheplatesandsettledonher.Awomanwhoearnedeighteenhundreddollarsayearwasworthlookingat.WolfLarsenwasundisguisedinhisadmiration.
“Salary,orpiece-work?”heasked.
“Piece-work,”sheansweredpromptly.
“Eighteenhundred,”hecalculated.“That’sahundredandfiftydollarsamonth.
Well,MissBrewster,thereisnothingsmallabouttheGhost.
Consideryourselfonsalaryduringthetimeyouremainwithus.”
Shemadenoacknowledgment.Shewastoounusedasyettothewhimsofthemantoacceptthemwithequanimity.
“Iforgottoinquire,”hewentonsuavely,“astothenatureofyouroccupation.Whatcommoditiesdoyouturnout?Whattoolsandmaterialsdoyourequire?”
“Paperandink,”shelaughed.“And,oh!alsoatypewriter.”
“YouareMaudBrewster,”Isaidslowlyandwithcertainty,almostasthoughIwerechargingherwithacrime.
Hereyesliftedcuriouslytomine.“Howdoyouknow?”
“Aren’tyou?”Idemanded.
Sheacknowledgedheridentitywithanod.
ItwasWolfLarsen’sturntobepuzzled.
Thenameanditsmagicsignifiednothingtohim.
Iwasproudthatitdidmeansomethingtome,andforthefirsttimeinawearywhileIwasconvincinglyconsciousofasuperiorityoverhim.
“Irememberwritingareviewofathinlittlevolume—”Ihadbeguncarelessly,whensheinterruptedme.
“You!”shecried.“Youare—”
Shewasnowstaringatmeinwide-eyedwonder.
Inoddedmyidentity,inturn.
“HumphreyVanWeyden,”sheconcluded;thenaddedwithasighofrelief,andunawarethatshehadglancedthatreliefatWolfLarsen,“Iamsoglad.”
“Irememberthereview,”shewentonhastily,becomingawareoftheawkwardnessofherremark;“thattoo,tooflatteringreview.”
“Notatall,”Ideniedvaliantly.“Youimpeachmysoberjudgmentandmakemycanonsoflittleworth.
Besides,allmybrothercriticswerewithme.
Didn’tLangincludeyour‘KissEndured’amongthefoursupremesonnetsbywomenintheEnglishlanguage?”
“ButyoucalledmetheAmericanMrs.Meynell!”
“Wasitnottrue?”Idemanded.
“No,notthat,”sheanswered.“Iwashurt.”
“Wecanmeasuretheunknownonlybytheknown,”Ireplied,inmyfinestacademicmanner.
“AsacriticIwascompelledtoplaceyou.
Youhavenowbecomeayardstickyourself.
Sevenofyourthinlittlevolumesareonmyshelves;andtherearetwothickervolumes,theessays,which,youwillpardonmysaying,andIknownotwhichisflatteredmore,fullyequalyourverse.
ThetimeisnotfardistantwhensomeunknownwillariseinEnglandandthecriticswillnamehertheEnglishMaudBrewster.”
“Youareverykind,Iamsure,”shemurmured;andtheveryconventionalityofhertonesandwords,withthehostofassociationsitarousedoftheoldlifeontheothersideoftheworld,gavemeaquickthrill—richwithremembrancebutstingingsharpwithhome-sickness.
“AndyouareMaudBrewster,”Isaidsolemnly,gazingacrossather.
“AndyouareHumphreyVanWeyden,”shesaid,gazingbackatmewithequalsolemnityandawe.“Howunusual!Idon’tunderstand.
Wesurelyarenottoexpectsomewildlyromanticsea-storyfromyoursoberpen.”
“No,Iamnotgatheringmaterial,Iassureyou,”wasmyanswer.“Ihaveneitheraptitudenorinclinationforfiction.”
“Tellme,whyhaveyoualwaysburiedyourselfinCalifornia?”shenextasked.“Ithasnotbeenkindofyou.
WeoftheEasthaveseentoverylittleofyou—toolittle,indeed,oftheDeanofAmericanLetters,theSecond.”
Ibowedto,anddisclaimed,thecompliment.“Inearlymetyou,once,inPhiladelphia,someBrowningaffairorother—youweretolecture,youknow.Mytrainwasfourhourslate.”
Andthenwequiteforgotwherewewere,leavingWolfLarsenstrandedandsilentinthemidstofourfloodofgossip.
Thehuntersleftthetableandwentondeck,andstillwetalked.WolfLarsenaloneremained.
SuddenlyIbecameawareofhim,leaningbackfromthetableandlisteningcuriouslytoouralienspeechofaworldhedidnotknow.
Ibrokeshortoffinthemiddleofasentence.
Thepresent,withallitsperilsandanxieties,rusheduponmewithstunningforce.
ItsmoteMissBrewsterlikewise,avagueandnamelessterrorrushingintohereyesassheregardedWolfLarsen.
Herosetohisfeetandlaughedawkwardly.Thesoundofitwasmetallic.
“Oh,don’tmindme,”hesaid,withaself-depreciatorywaveofhishand.“Idon’tcount.Goon,goon,Iprayyou.”
Butthegatesofspeechwereclosed,andwe,too,rosefromthetableandlaughedawkwardly.
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