English
WolfLarsentookthedistributionofthewhiskyoffmyhands,andthebottlesbegantomaketheirappearancewhileIworkedoverthefreshbatchofwoundedmenintheforecastle.
Ihadseenwhiskydrunk,suchaswhisky-and-sodabythemenoftheclubs,butneverasthesemendrankit,frompannikinsandmugs,andfromthebottles—greatbrimmingdrinks,eachoneofwhichwasinitselfadebauch.Buttheydidnotstopatoneortwo.
Theydrankanddrank,andeverthebottlesslippedforwardandtheydrankmore.
Everybodydrank;thewoundeddrank;Oofty-Oofty,whohelpedme,drank.
OnlyLouisrefrained,nomorethancautiouslywettinghislipswiththeliquor,thoughhejoinedintherevelswithanabandonequaltothatofmostofthem.Itwasasaturnalia.
Inloudvoicestheyshoutedovertheday’sfighting,wrangledaboutdetails,orwaxedaffectionateandmadefriendswiththemenwhomtheyhadfought.
Prisonersandcaptorshiccoughedononeanother’sshoulders,andsworemightyoathsofrespectandesteem.
TheyweptoverthemiseriesofthepastandoverthemiseriesyettocomeundertheironruleofWolfLarsen.
Andallcursedhimandtoldterribletalesofhisbrutality.
Itwasastrangeandfrightfulspectacle—thesmall,bunk-linedspace,thefloorandwallsleapingandlurching,thedimlight,theswayingshadowslengtheningandfore-shorteningmonstrously,thethickairheavywithsmokeandthesmellofbodiesandiodoform,andtheinflamedfacesofthemen—half-men,Ishouldcallthem.
InotedOofty-Oofty,holdingtheendofabandageandlookinguponthescene,hisvelvetyandluminouseyesglisteninginthelightlikeadeer’seyes,andyetIknewthebarbaricdevilthatlurkedinhisbreastandbeliedallthesoftnessandtenderness,almostwomanly,ofhisfaceandform.
AndInoticedtheboyishfaceofHarrison,—agoodfaceonce,butnowademon’s,—convulsedwithpassionashetoldthenew-comersofthehell-shiptheywereinandshriekedcursesupontheheadofWolfLarsen.
WolfLarsenitwas,alwaysWolfLarsen,enslaverandtormentorofmen,amaleCirceandthesehisswine,sufferingbrutesthatgrovelledbeforehimandrevoltedonlyindrunkennessandinsecrecy.AndwasI,too,oneofhisswine?Ithought.AndMaudBrewster?No!
IgroundmyteethinmyangeranddeterminationtillthemanIwasattendingwincedundermyhandandOofty-Ooftylookedatmewithcuriosity.Ifeltendowedwithasuddenstrength.
Whatofmynew-foundlove,Iwasagiant.Ifearednothing.
Iwouldworkmywillthroughitall,inspiteofWolfLarsenandofmyownthirty-fivebookishyears.Allwouldbewell.Iwouldmakeitwell.
Andso,exalted,upbornebyasenseofpower,Iturnedmybackonthehowlinginfernoandclimbedtothedeck,wherethefogdriftedghostlythroughthenightandtheairwassweetandpureandquiet.
Thesteerage,whereweretwowoundedhunters,wasarepetitionoftheforecastle,exceptthatWolfLarsenwasnotbeingcursed;anditwaswithagreatreliefthatIagainemergedondeckandwentafttothecabin.
Supperwasready,andWolfLarsenandMaudwerewaitingforme.
Whileallhisshipwasgettingdrunkasfastasitcould,heremainedsober.Notadropofliquorpassedhislips.
Hedidnotdareitunderthecircumstances,forhehadonlyLouisandmetodependupon,andLouiswasevennowatthewheel.
Weweresailingonthroughthefogwithoutalook-outandwithoutlights.
ThatWolfLarsenhadturnedtheliquorlooseamonghismensurprisedme,butheevidentlyknewtheirpsychologyandthebestmethodofcementingincordiality,whathadbeguninbloodshed.
HisvictoryoverDeathLarsenseemedtohavehadaremarkableeffectuponhim.
Thepreviouseveninghehadreasonedhimselfintotheblues,andIhadbeenwaitingmomentarilyforoneofhischaracteristicoutbursts.
Yetnothinghadoccurred,andhewasnowinsplendidtrim.
Possiblyhissuccessincapturingsomanyhuntersandboatshadcounteractedthecustomaryreaction.
Atanyrate,thebluesweregone,andthebluedevilshadnotputinanappearance.
SoIthoughtatthetime;but,ahme,littleIknewhimorknewthateventhen,perhaps,hewasmeditatinganoutbreakmoreterriblethananyIhadseen.
AsIsay,hediscoveredhimselfinsplendidtrimwhenIenteredthecabin.
Hehadhadnoheadachesforweeks,hiseyeswereclearblueasthesky,hisbronzewasbeautifulwithperfecthealth;lifeswelledthroughhisveinsinfullandmagnificentflood.
WhilewaitingformehehadengagedMaudinanimateddiscussion.
Temptationwasthetopictheyhadhitupon,andfromthefewwordsIheardImadeoutthathewascontendingthattemptationwastemptationonlywhenamanwasseducedbyitandfell.
“Forlookyou,”hewassaying,“asIseeit,amandoesthingsbecauseofdesire.Hehasmanydesires.
Hemaydesiretoescapepain,ortoenjoypleasure.
Butwhateverhedoes,hedoesbecausehedesirestodoit.”
“Butsupposehedesirestodotwooppositethings,neitherofwhichwillpermithimtodotheother?”Maudinterrupted.
“TheverythingIwascomingto,”hesaid.
“Andbetweenthesetwodesiresisjustwherethesoulofthemanismanifest,”shewenton.
“Ifitisagoodsoul,itwilldesireanddothegoodaction,andthecontraryifitisabadsoul.Itisthesoulthatdecides.”
“Boshandnonsense!”heexclaimedimpatiently.“Itisthedesirethatdecides.
Hereisamanwhowantsto,say,getdrunk.Also,hedoesn’twanttogetdrunk.Whatdoeshedo?Howdoeshedoit?Heisapuppet.
Heisthecreatureofhisdesires,andofthetwodesiresheobeysthestrongestone,thatisall.Hissoulhasn’tanythingtodowithit.
Howcanhebetemptedtogetdrunkandrefusetogetdrunk?
Ifthedesiretoremainsoberprevails,itisbecauseitisthestrongestdesire.
Temptationplaysnopart,unless—”hepausedwhilegraspingthenewthoughtwhichhadcomeintohismind—“unlessheistemptedtoremainsober.
“Ha!ha!”helaughed.“Whatdoyouthinkofthat,Mr.VanWeyden?”
“Thatbothofyouarehair-splitting,”Isaid.“Theman’ssoulishisdesires.
Or,ifyouwill,thesumofhisdesiresishissoul.Thereinyouarebothwrong.
Youlaythestressuponthedesireapartfromthesoul,MissBrewsterlaysthestressonthesoulapartfromthedesire,andinpointoffactsoulanddesirearethesamething.
“However,”Icontinued,“MissBrewsterisrightincontendingthattemptationistemptationwhetherthemanyieldorovercome.
Fireisfannedbythewinduntilitleapsupfiercely.Soisdesirelikefire.
Itisfanned,asbyawind,bysightofthethingdesired,orbyanewandluringdescriptionorcomprehensionofthethingdesired.Thereliesthetemptation.
Itisthewindthatfansthedesireuntilitleapsuptomastery.That’stemptation.
Itmaynotfansufficientlytomakethedesireovermastering,butinsofarasitfansatall,thatfarisittemptation.
And,asyousay,itmaytemptforgoodaswellasforevil.”
Ifeltproudofmyselfaswesatdowntothetable.Mywordshadbeendecisive.Atleasttheyhadputanendtothediscussion.
ButWolfLarsenseemedvoluble,pronetospeechasIhadneverseenhimbefore.
Itwasasthoughhewereburstingwithpentenergywhichmustfindanoutletsomehow.
Almostimmediatelyhelaunchedintoadiscussiononlove.
Asusual,hiswasthesheermaterialisticside,andMaud’swastheidealistic.
Formyself,beyondawordorsoofsuggestionorcorrectionnowandagain,Itooknopart.
Hewasbrilliant,butsowasMaud,andforsometimeIlostthethreadoftheconversationthroughstudyingherfaceasshetalked.
Itwasafacethatrarelydisplayedcolour,butto-nightitwasflushedandvivacious.
Herwitwasplayingkeenly,andshewasenjoyingthetiltasmuchasWolfLarsen,andhewasenjoyingithugely.
Forsomereason,thoughIknownotwhyintheargument,soutterlyhadIlostitinthecontemplationofonestraybrownlockofMaud’shair,hequotedfromIseultatTintagel,whereshesays:
“BlessedamIbeyondwomenevenherein,
Thatbeyondallbornwomenismysin,
Andperfectmytransgression.”
AshehadreadpessimismintoOmar,sonowhereadtriumph,stingingtriumphandexultation,intoSwinburne’slines.Andhereadrightly,andhereadwell.
HehadhardlyceasedreadingwhenLouisputhisheadintothecompanion-wayandwhispereddown:
“Beeasy,willye?Thefog’slifted,an’’tistheportlightivasteamerthat’scrossin’ourbowthisblessedminute.”
WolfLarsensprangondeck,andsoswiftlythatbythetimewefollowedhimhehadpulledthesteerage-slideoverthedrunkenclamourandwasonhiswayforwardtoclosetheforecastle-scuttle.
Thefog,thoughitremained,hadliftedhigh,whereitobscuredthestarsandmadethenightquiteblack.
DirectlyaheadofusIcouldseeabrightredlightandawhitelight,andIcouldhearthepulsingofasteamer’sengines.BeyondadoubtitwastheMacedonia.
WolfLarsenhadreturnedtothepoop,andwestoodinasilentgroup,watchingthelightsrapidlycrossourbow.
“Luckyformehedoesn’tcarryasearchlight,”WolfLarsensaid.
“WhatifIshouldcryoutloudly?”Iqueriedinawhisper.
“Itwouldbeallup,”heanswered.“Buthaveyouthoughtuponwhatwouldimmediatelyhappen?”
BeforeIhadtimetoexpressanydesiretoknow,hehadmebythethroatwithhisgorillagrip,andbyafaintquiverofthemuscles—ahint,asitwere—hesuggestedtomethetwistthatwouldsurelyhavebrokenmyneck.
ThenextmomenthehadreleasedmeandweweregazingattheMacedonia’slights.
“WhatifIshouldcryout?”Maudasked.
“Ilikeyoutoowelltohurtyou,”hesaidsoftly—nay,therewasatendernessandacaressinhisvoicethatmademewince.
“Butdon’tdoit,justthesame,forI’dpromptlybreakMr.VanWeyden’sneck.”
“Thenshehasmypermissiontocryout,”Isaiddefiantly.
“Ihardlythinkyou’llcaretosacrificetheDeanofAmericanLetterstheSecond,”hesneered.
Wespokenomore,thoughwehadbecometoousedtooneanotherforthesilencetobeawkward;andwhentheredlightandthewhitehaddisappearedwereturnedtothecabintofinishtheinterruptedsupper.
Againtheyfelltoquoting,andMaudgaveDowson’s“ImpenitentiaUltima.”
Sherendereditbeautifully,butIwatchednother,butWolfLarsen.
IwasfascinatedbythefascinatedlookhebentuponMaud.
Hewasquiteoutofhimself,andInoticedtheunconsciousmovementofhislipsasheshapedwordforwordasfastassheutteredthem.
Heinterruptedherwhenshegavethelines:
“Andhereyesshouldbemylightwhilethesunwentoutbehindme,
Andtheviolsinhervoicebethelastsoundinmyear.”
“Thereareviolsinyourvoice,”hesaidbluntly,andhiseyesflashedtheirgoldenlight.
Icouldhaveshoutedwithjoyathercontrol.
Shefinishedtheconcludingstanzawithoutfalteringandthenslowlyguidedtheconversationintolessperilouschannels.
AndallthewhileIsatinahalf-daze,thedrunkenriotofthesteeragebreakingthroughthebulkhead,themanIfearedandthewomanIlovedtalkingonandon.Thetablewasnotcleared.
ThemanwhohadtakenMugridge’splacehadevidentlyjoinedhiscomradesintheforecastle.
IfeverWolfLarsenattainedthesummitofliving,heattaineditthen.
FromtimetotimeIforsookmyownthoughtstofollowhim,andIfollowedinamaze,masteredforthemomentbyhisremarkableintellect,underthespellofhispassion,forhewaspreachingthepassionofrevolt.
ItwasinevitablethatMilton’sLucifershouldbeinstanced,andthekeennesswithwhichWolfLarsenanalysedanddepictedthecharacterwasarevelationofhisstifledgenius.
ItremindedmeofTaine,yetIknewthemanhadneverheardofthatbrilliantthoughdangerousthinker.
“Heledalostcause,andhewasnotafraidofGod’sthunderbolts,”WolfLarsenwassaying.“Hurledintohell,hewasunbeaten.
AthirdofGod’sangelshehadledwithhim,andstraightwayheincitedmantorebelagainstGod,andgainedforhimselfandhellthemajorportionofallthegenerationsofman.Whywashebeatenoutofheaven?BecausehewaslessbravethanGod?lessproud?lessaspiring?No!Athousandtimesno!
Godwasmorepowerful,ashesaid,Whomthunderhathmadegreater.ButLuciferwasafreespirit.Toservewastosuffocate.
Hepreferredsufferinginfreedomtoallthehappinessofacomfortableservility.HedidnotcaretoserveGod.Hecaredtoservenothing.Hewasnofigure-head.Hestoodonhisownlegs.Hewasanindividual.”
“ThefirstAnarchist,”Maudlaughed,risingandpreparingtowithdrawtoherstate-room.
“Thenitisgoodtobeananarchist!”hecried.He,too,hadrisen,andhestoodfacingher,whereshehadpausedatthedoorofherroom,ashewenton:
“‘Hereatleast
Weshallbefree;theAlmightyhathnotbuilt
Hereforhisenvy;willnotdriveushence;
Herewemayreignsecure;andinmychoice
Toreignisworthambition,thoughinhell:
Bettertoreigninhellthanserveinheaven.”
Itwasthedefiantcryofamightyspirit.
Thecabinstillrangwithhisvoice,ashestoodthere,swaying,hisbronzedfaceshining,hisheadupanddominant,andhiseyes,goldenandmasculine,intenselymasculineandinsistentlysoft,flashinguponMaudatthedoor.
Againthatunnamableandunmistakableterrorwasinhereyes,andshesaid,almostinawhisper,“YouareLucifer.”
Thedoorclosedandshewasgone.Hestoodstaringafterherforaminute,thenreturnedtohimselfandtome.
“I’llrelieveLouisatthewheel,”hesaidshortly,“andcalluponyoutorelieveatmidnight.Betterturninnowandgetsomesleep.”
Hepulledonapairofmittens,putonhiscap,andascendedthecompanion-stairs,whileIfollowedhissuggestionbygoingtobed.
Forsomeunknownreason,promptedmysteriously,Ididnotundress,butlaydownfullyclothed.
ForatimeIlistenedtotheclamourinthesteerageandmarvelleduponthelovewhichhadcometome;butmysleepontheGhosthadbecomemosthealthfulandnatural,andsoonthesongsandcriesdiedaway,myeyesclosed,andmyconsciousnesssankdownintothehalf-deathofslumber.
Iknewnotwhathadarousedme,butIfoundmyselfoutofmybunk,onmyfeet,wideawake,mysoulvibratingtothewarningofdangerasitmighthavethrilledtoatrumpetcall.Ithrewopenthedoor.Thecabinlightwasburninglow.
IsawMaud,myMaud,strainingandstrugglingandcrushedintheembraceofWolfLarsen’sarms.
Icouldseethevainbeatandflutterofherasshestrove,pressingherfaceagainsthisbreast,toescapefromhim.
AllthisIsawontheveryinstantofseeingandasIsprangforward.
Istruckhimwithmyfist,ontheface,asheraisedhishead,butitwasapunyblow.
Heroaredinaferocious,animal-likeway,andgavemeashovewithhishand.
Itwasonlyashove,aflirtofthewrist,yetsotremendouswashisstrengththatIwashurledbackwardasfromacatapult.
Istruckthedoorofthestate-roomwhichhadformerlybeenMugridge’s,splinteringandsmashingthepanelswiththeimpactofmybody.
Istruggledtomyfeet,withdifficultydraggingmyselfclearofthewreckeddoor,unawareofanyhurtwhatever.
Iwasconsciousonlyofanovermasteringrage.
IthinkI,too,criedaloud,asIdrewtheknifeatmyhipandsprangforwardasecondtime.
Butsomethinghadhappened.Theywerereelingapart.
Iwascloseuponhim,myknifeuplifted,butIwithheldtheblow.Iwaspuzzledbythestrangenessofit.
Maudwasleaningagainstthewall,onehandoutforsupport;buthewasstaggering,hislefthandpressedagainsthisforeheadandcoveringhiseyes,andwiththerighthewasgropingabouthiminadazedsortofway.
Itstruckagainstthewall,andhisbodyseemedtoexpressamuscularandphysicalreliefatthecontact,asthoughhehadfoundhisbearings,hislocationinspaceaswellassomethingagainstwhichtolean.
ThenIsawredagain.Allmywrongsandhumiliationsflasheduponmewithadazzlingbrightness,allthatIhadsufferedandothershadsufferedathishands,alltheenormityoftheman’sveryexistence.
Ispranguponhim,blindly,insanely,anddrovetheknifeintohisshoulder.
Iknew,then,thatitwasnomorethanafleshwound,—Ihadfeltthesteelgrateonhisshoulder-blade,—andIraisedtheknifetostrikeatamorevitalpart.
ButMaudhadseenmyfirstblow,andshecried,“Don’t!Pleasedon’t!”
Idroppedmyarmforamoment,andamomentonly.
Againtheknifewasraised,andWolfLarsenwouldhavesurelydiedhadshenotsteppedbetween.
Herarmswerearoundme,herhairwasbrushingmyface.
Mypulserushedupinanunwontedmanner,yetmyragemountedwithit.Shelookedmebravelyintheeyes.
“Formysake,”shebegged.
“Iwouldkillhimforyoursake!”Icried,tryingtofreemyarmwithouthurtingher.
“Hush!”shesaid,andlaidherfingerslightlyonmylips.
Icouldhavekissedthem,hadIdared,eventhen,inmyrage,thetouchofthemwassosweet,soverysweet.
“Please,please,”shepleaded,andshedisarmedmebythewords,asIwastodiscovertheywouldeverdisarmme.
Isteppedback,separatingfromher,andreplacedtheknifeinitssheath.IlookedatWolfLarsen.
Hestillpressedhislefthandagainsthisforehead.Itcoveredhiseyes.Hisheadwasbowed.Heseemedtohavegrownlimp.
Hisbodywassaggingatthehips,hisgreatshouldersweredroopingandshrinkingforward.
“Van,Weyden!”hecalledhoarsely,andwithanoteoffrightinhisvoice.“Oh,VanWeyden!whereareyou?”
IlookedatMaud.Shedidnotspeak,butnoddedherhead.
“HereIam,”Ianswered,steppingtohisside.“Whatisthematter?”
“Helpmetoaseat,”hesaid,inthesamehoarse,frightenedvoice.
“Iamasickman;averysickman,Hump,”hesaid,asheleftmysustaininggripandsankintoachair.
Hisheaddroppedforwardonthetableandwasburiedinhishands.
Fromtimetotimeitrockedbackandforwardaswithpain.
Once,whenhehalfraisedit,Isawthesweatstandinginheavydropsonhisforeheadabouttherootsofhishair.
“Iamasickman,averysickman,”herepeatedagain,andyetonceagain.
“Whatisthematter?”Iasked,restingmyhandonhisshoulder.“WhatcanIdoforyou?”
Butheshookmyhandoffwithanirritatedmovement,andforalongtimeIstoodbyhissideinsilence.
Maudwaslookingon,herfaceawedandfrightened.
Whathadhappenedtohimwecouldnotimagine.
“Hump,”hesaidatlast,“Imustgetintomybunk.Lendmeahand.I’llbeallrightinalittlewhile.It’sthosedamnheadaches,Ibelieve.Iwasafraidofthem.
Ihadafeeling—no,Idon’tknowwhatI’mtalkingabout.Helpmeintomybunk.”
ButwhenIgothimintohisbunkheagainburiedhisfaceinhishands,coveringhiseyes,andasIturnedtogoIcouldhearhimmurmuring,“Iamasickman,averysickman.”
MaudlookedatmeinquiringlyasIemerged.Ishookmyhead,saying:
“Somethinghashappenedtohim.What,Idon’tknow.
Heishelpless,andfrightened,Iimagine,forthefirsttimeinhislife.
Itmusthaveoccurredbeforehereceivedtheknife-thrust,whichmadeonlyasuperficialwound.Youmusthaveseenwhathappened.”
Sheshookherhead.“Isawnothing.Itisjustasmysterioustome.Hesuddenlyreleasedmeandstaggeredaway.Butwhatshallwedo?WhatshallIdo?”
“Ifyouwillwait,please,untilIcomeback,”Ianswered.
Iwentondeck.Louiswasatthewheel.
“Youmaygofor’ardandturnin,”Isaid,takingitfromhim.
Hewasquicktoobey,andIfoundmyselfaloneonthedeckoftheGhost.
Asquietlyaswaspossible,Iclewedupthetopsails,loweredtheflyingjibandstaysail,backedthejibover,andflattenedthemainsail.ThenIwentbelowtoMaud.
Iplacedmyfingeronmylipsforsilence,andenteredWolfLarsen’sroom.
HewasinthesamepositioninwhichIhadlefthim,andhisheadwasrocking—almostwrithing—fromsidetoside.
“AnythingIcandoforyou?”Iasked.
Hemadenoreplyatfirst,butonmyrepeatingthequestionheanswered,“No,no;I’mallright.Leavemealonetillmorning.”
ButasIturnedtogoInotedthathisheadhadresumeditsrockingmotion.
Maudwaswaitingpatientlyforme,andItooknotice,withathrillofjoy,ofthequeenlypoiseofherheadandherglorious,calmeyes.
Calmandsuretheywereasherspirititself.
“Willyoutrustyourselftomeforajourneyofsixhundredmilesorso?”Iasked.
“Youmean—?”sheasked,andIknewshehadguessedaright.
“Yes,Imeanjustthat,”Ireplied.“Thereisnothingleftforusbuttheopenboat.”
“Forme,youmean,”shesaid.“Youarecertainlyassafehereasyouhavebeen.”
“No,thereisnothingleftforusbuttheopenboat,”Iiteratedstoutly.“Willyoupleasedressaswarmlyasyoucan,atonce,andmakeintoabundlewhateveryouwishtobringwithyou.”
“Andmakeallhaste,”Iadded,assheturnedtowardherstate-room.
Thelazarettewasdirectlybeneaththecabin,and,openingthetrap-doorinthefloorandcarryingacandlewithme,Idroppeddownandbeganoverhaulingtheship’sstores.
Iselectedmainlyfromthecannedgoods,andbythetimeIwasready,willinghandswereextendedfromabovetoreceivewhatIpassedup.
Weworkedinsilence.Ihelpedmyselfalsotoblankets,mittens,oilskins,caps,andsuchthings,fromtheslop-chest.
Itwasnolightadventure,thistrustingourselvesinasmallboattosorawandstormyasea,anditwasimperativethatweshouldguardourselvesagainstthecoldandwet.
Weworkedfeverishlyatcarryingourplunderondeckanddepositingitamidships,sofeverishlythatMaud,whosestrengthwashardlyapositivequantity,hadtogiveover,exhausted,andsitonthestepsatthebreakofthepoop.
Thisdidnotservetorecoverher,andshelayonherback,ontheharddeck,armsstretchedout,andwholebodyrelaxed.
ItwasatrickIrememberedofmysister,andIknewshewouldsoonbeherselfagain.
Iknew,also,thatweaponswouldnotcomeinamiss,andIre-enteredWolfLarsen’sstate-roomtogethisrifleandshot-gun.
Ispoketohim,buthemadenoanswer,thoughhisheadwasstillrockingfromsidetosideandhewasnotasleep.
“Good-bye,Lucifer,”IwhisperedtomyselfasIsoftlyclosedthedoor.
Nexttoobtainwasastockofammunition,—aneasymatter,thoughIhadtoenterthesteeragecompanion-waytodoit.
Herethehuntersstoredtheammunition-boxestheycarriedintheboats,andhere,butafewfeetfromtheirnoisyrevels,Itookpossessionoftwoboxes.
Next,toloweraboat.Notsosimpleataskforoneman.
Havingcastoffthelashings,Ihoistedfirstontheforwardtackle,thenontheaft,tilltheboatclearedtherail,whenIloweredaway,onetackleandthentheother,foracoupleoffeet,tillithungsnugly,abovethewater,againsttheschooner’sside.
Imadecertainthatitcontainedtheproperequipmentofoars,rowlocks,andsail.
Waterwasaconsideration,andIrobbedeveryboataboardofitsbreaker.
Astherewerenineboatsalltold,itmeantthatweshouldhaveplentyofwater,andballastaswell,thoughtherewasthechancethattheboatwouldbeoverloaded,whatofthegeneroussupplyofotherthingsIwastaking.
WhileMaudwaspassingmetheprovisionsandIwasstoringthemintheboat,asailorcameondeckfromtheforecastle.
Hestoodbytheweatherrailforatime(wewereloweringovertheleerail),andthensaunteredslowlyamidships,whereheagainpausedandstoodfacingthewind,withhisbacktowardus.
IcouldhearmyheartbeatingasIcrouchedlowintheboat.
Maudhadsunkdownuponthedeckandwas,Iknew,lyingmotionless,herbodyintheshadowofthebulwark.
Butthemanneverturned,and,afterstretchinghisarmsabovehisheadandyawningaudibly,heretracedhisstepstotheforecastlescuttleanddisappeared.
Afewminutessufficedtofinishtheloading,andIloweredtheboatintothewater.
AsIhelpedMaudovertherailandfeltherformclosetomine,itwasallIcoulddotokeepfromcryingout,“Iloveyou!Iloveyou!”
TrulyHumphreyVanWeydenwasatlastinlove,Ithought,asherfingersclungtominewhileIloweredherdowntotheboat.
Iheldontotherailwithonehandandsupportedherweightwiththeother,andIwasproudatthemomentofthefeat.
ItwasastrengthIhadnotpossessedafewmonthsbefore,onthedayIsaidgood-byetoCharleyFurusethandstartedforSanFranciscoontheill-fatedMartinez.
Astheboatascendedonasea,herfeettouchedandIreleasedherhands.
Icastoffthetacklesandleapedafterher.
Ihadneverrowedinmylife,butIputouttheoarsandattheexpenseofmucheffortgottheboatclearoftheGhost.ThenIexperimentedwiththesail.
Ihadseentheboat-steerersandhunterssettheirspritsailsmanytimes,yetthiswasmyfirstattempt.
Whattookthempossiblytwominutestookmetwenty,butintheendIsucceededinsettingandtrimmingit,andwiththesteering-oarinmyhandshauledonthewind.
“ThereliesJapan,”Iremarked,“straightbeforeus.”
“HumphreyVanWeyden,”shesaid,“youareabraveman.”
“Nay,”Ianswered,“itisyouwhoareabravewoman.”
Weturnedourheads,swayedbyacommonimpulsetoseethelastoftheGhost.
Herlowhullliftedandrolledtowindwardonasea;hercanvasloomeddarklyinthenight;herlashedwheelcreakedastherudderkicked;thensightandsoundofherfadedaway,andwewerealoneonthedarksea.
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