“It is not my trick, boats’n,” said Rowland, in surprise.
“Orders from the bridge. Get up there.”
Rowland grumbled3, as sailors may when aggrieved4, and obeyed. The man he relieved reported his name, and disappeared; the first officer sauntered down the bridge, uttered the official, “keep a good lookout,” and returned to his post; then the silence and loneliness of a night-watch at sea, intensified5 by the never-ceasing hum of the engines, and relieved only by the sounds of distant music and laughter from the theater, descended6 on the forward part of the ship. For the fresh westerly wind, coming with the Titan, made nearly a calm on her deck; and the dense7 fog, though overshone by a bright star-specked sky, was so chilly8 that the last talkative passenger had fled to the light and life within.
When three bells — half-past, nine — had sounded, and Rowland had given in his turn the required call — “all’s well” — the first officer left his post and approached him.
“Rowland,” he said as he drew near; “I hear you’ve walked the quarter-deck.”
“I cannot imagine how you learned it, sir,” replied Rowland; “I am not in the babit of referring to it.”
“You told the captain. I suppose the curriculum is as complete at Annapolis as at the Royal Naval9 College. What do you think of Maury’s theories of currents?”
“They seem plausible,” said Rowland, unconsciously dropping the “sir”; “but I think that in most particulars he has been proven wrong.”
“Yes, I think so myself. Did you ever follow up another idea of his — that of locating the position of ice in a fog by the rate of decrease in temperature as approached?”
“Not to any definite result. But it seems to be only a matter of calculation, and time to calculate. Cold is negative heat, and can be treated like radiant energy, decreasing as the square of the distance.”
The officer stood a moment, looking ahead and humming a tune10 to himself; then, saying: “Yes, that’s so,” returned to his place.
“Must have a cast-iron stomach,” he muttered, as he peered into the binnacle; “or else the boats’n dosed the wrong man’s pot.”
Rowland glanced after the retreating officer with a cynical11 smile. “I wonder,” he said to himself, “why he comes down here talking navigation to a foremast hand. Why am I up here — out of my turn? Is this something in line with that bottle? “He resumed the short pacing back and forth12 on the end of the bridge, and the rather gloomy train of thought which the officer had interrupted. “How long,” he mused13, “would his ambition and love of profession last him after he had met, and won, and lost, the only woman on earth to him? Why is it — that failure to hold the affections of one among the millions of women who live, and love, can outweigh14 every blessing15 in life, and turn a man’s nature into a hell, to consume him? Who did she marry? Some one, probably a stranger long after my banishment16, who came to her possessed17 of a few qualities of mind or physique that pleased her, — who did not need to love her — his chances were better without that — and he steps coolly and easily into my heaven. And they tell us, that ‘God doeth all things well,’ and that there is a heaven where all our unsatisfied wants are attended to — provided we have the necessary faith in it. That means, if it means anything, that after a lifetime of unrecognized allegiance, during which I win nothing but her fear and contempt, I may be rewarded by the love and companionship of her soul. Do I love her soul? Has her soul beauty of face and the figure and carriage of a Venus? Has her soul deep, blue eyes and a sweet, musical voice. Has it wit, and grace, and charm? Has it a wealth of pity for suffering? These are the things I loved. I do not love her soul, if she has one. I do not want it. I want her — I need her.” He stopped in his walk and leaned against the bridge railing, with eyes fixed18 on the fog ahead. He was speaking his thoughts aloud now, and the first officer drew within bearing, listened a moment, and went back. “Working on him,” he whispered to the third officer. Then he pushed the button which called the captain, blew a short blast of the steam whistle as a call to the boatswain, and resumed his watch on the drugged lookout, while the third officer conned19 the ship.
The steam call to the boatswain is so common a sound on a steamship20 as to generally pass unnoticed. This call affected21 another besides the boatswain. A little night-gowned figure arose from an under berth22 in a saloon stateroom, and, with wide-open, staring eyes, groped its way to the deck, unobserved by the watchman. The white, bare little feet felt no cold as they pattered the planks23 of the deserted24 promenade25, and the little figure had reached the steerage entrance by the time the captain and boatswain had reached the bridge.
“And they talk,” went on Rowland, as the three watched and listened; “of the wonderful love and care of a merciful God, who controls all things — who has given me my defects, and my capacity for loving, and then placed Myra Gaunt in my way. Is there mercy to me in this? As part of a great evolutionary26 principle, which develops the race life at the expense of the individual, it might be consistent with the idea of a God — a first cause. But does the individual who perishes, because unfitted to survive, owe any love, or gratitude27 to this God? He does not! On the supposition that He exists, I deny it! And on the complete lack of evidence that He does exist, I affirm to myself the integrity of cause and effect — which is enough to explain the Universe, and me. A merciful God — a kind, loving, just, and merciful God —” he burst into a fit of incongruous laughter, which stopped short as he clapped his hands to his stomach and then to his head. “What ails28 me?” he gasped29; “I feel as though I had swallowed hot coals — and my head — and my eyes — I can’t see.” The pain left him in a moment and the laughter returned. “What’s wrong with the starboard anchor? It’s moving. It’s changing It’s a — what? What on earth is it? On end — and the windlass — and the spare anchors — and the davits — all alive — all moving.”
The sight he saw would have been horrid30 to a healthy mind, but it only moved this man to increased and uncontrollable merriment. The two rails below leading to the stern had arisen before him in a shadowy triangle; and within it were the deck-fittings he had mentioned. The windlass had become a thing of horror, black and forbidding. The two end barrels were the bulging31, lightless eyes of a non-descript monster, for which the cable chains had multiplied themselves into innumerable legs and tentacles32. And this thing was crawling around within the triangle. The anchor-davits were many-headed serpents which danced on their tails, and the anchors themselves writhed33 and squirmed in the shape of immense hairy caterpillars34, while faces appeared on the two white lantern-towers — grinning and leering at him. With his hands on the bridge rail, and tears streaming down his face, he laughed at the strange sight, but did not speak; and the three, who had quietly approached, drew back to await, while below on the promenade deck, the little white figure, as though attracted by his laughter, turned into the stairway leading to the upper deck.
The phantasmagoria faded to a blank wall of gray fog, and Rowland found sanity35 to mutter, “They’ve drugged me”; but in an instant he stood in the darkness of a garden — one that he had known. In the distance were the lights of a house, and close to him was a young girl, who turned from him and fled, even as he called to her.
By a supreme36 effort of will, he brought himself back to the present, to the bridge stood upon, and to his duty. “Why must it haunt me through the years,” he groaned37; “drunk then — drunk since. She could have saved me, but she chose to damn me.” He strove to pace up and down, but staggered, and clung to the rail; while the three watchers approached again, and the little white figure below climbed the upper bridge steps.
The survival of the fittest,” he rambled38, as he stared into the fog; “cause and effect. It explains the Universe — and me.” He lifted his hand and spoke39 loudly, as though to some unseen familiar of the deep. What will be the last effect? Where in the scheme of ultimate balance — under the law of the correlation40 of energy, will my wasted wealth of love be gathered, and weighed, and credited? What will balance it, and where will I be? Myra, — Myra,” he called; “do you know what you have lost? Do you know, in your goodness, and purity, and truth, of what you have done? Do you know —”
The fabric41 on which he stood was gone, and he seemed to be poised42 on nothing in a worldless universe of gray-alone. And in the vast, limitless emptiness there was no sound, or life, or change; and in his heart neither fear, nor wonder, nor emotion of any kind, save one — the unspeakable hunger of a love that had failed. Yet it seemed that he was not John Rowland, but some one, or something else; for presently he saw himself, far away — millions of billions of miles; as though on the outermost43 fringes of the void — and beard his own voice, calling. Faintly, yet distinctly, filled with the concentrated despair of his life, came the call: “Myra, — Myra.”
There was an answering call, and looking for the second voice, he beheld44 her — the woman of his love — on the opposite edge of space; and her eyes held the tenderness, and her voice held the pleading that he had known but in dreams. “Come back,” she called; “come back to me.” But it seemed that the two could not understand; for again he heard the despairing cry: “Myra, Myra, where are you?” and again the answer: “Come back. Come.”
Then in the far distance to the right appeared a faint point of flame, which grew larger. It was approacbing, and he dispassionately viewed it; and when he looked again for the two, they were gone, and in their places were two clouds of nebula45, which resolved into myriad46 points of sparkling light and color — whirling, encroaching, until they filled all space. And through them the larger light was coming — and growing larger — straight for him.
He heard a rushing sound, and looking for it, saw in the opposite direction a formless object, as much darker than the gray of the void as the flame was brighter, and it too was growing larger, and coming. And it seemed to him that this light and darkness were the good and evil of his life, and he watched, to see which would reach him first, but felt no surprise or regret when he saw that the darkness was nearest. It came, closer and closer, until it brushed him on the side.
“What have we here, Rowland?” said a voice. Instantly, the whirling points were blotted47 out; the universe of gray changed to the fog; the flame of light to the moon rising above it, and the shapeless darkness to the form of the first officer. The little white figure, which had just darted48 past the three watchers, stood at his feet. As though warned by an inner subconsciousness49 of danger, it had come in its sleep, for safety and care, to its mother’s old lover — the strong and the weak — the degraded and disgraced, but exalted50 — the persecuted51, drugged, and all but helpless John Rowland.
With the readiness with which a man who dozes52 while standing53 will answer the question that wakens him, he said — though he stammered54 from the now waning55 effect of the drug: “Myra’s child, sir; it’s asleep.” He picked up the night-gowned little girl, who screamed as she wakened, and folded his pea-jacket around the cold little body.
“Who is Myra?” asked the officer in a bullying56 tone, in which were also chagrin57 and disappointment. “You’ve been asleep yourself.”
Before Rowland could reply a shout from the crow’s-nest split the air.
“Ice,” yelled the lookout; “ice ahead. Iceberg58. Right under the bows.” The first officer ran amid-ships, and the captain, who had remained there, sprang to the engine-room telegraph, and this time the lever was turned. But in five seconds the bow of the Titan began to lift, and ahead, and on either hand, could be seen, through the fog, a field of ice, which arose in an incline to a hundred feet high in her track. The music in the theater ceased, and among the babel of shouts and cries, and the deafening59 noise of steel, scraping and crashing over ice, Rowland heard the agonized60 voice of a woman crying from the bridge steps: “Myra, — Myra, where are you? Come back.”
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收听单词发音
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1
mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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3
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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5
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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11
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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12
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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14
outweigh
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| vt.比...更重，...更重要 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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banishment
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| n.放逐，驱逐 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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18
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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conned
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| adj.被骗了v.指挥操舵( conn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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steamship
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| n.汽船，轮船 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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24
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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evolutionary
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| adj.进化的；演化的，演变的；[生]进化论的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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29
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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30
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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31
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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32
tentacles
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| n.触手( tentacle的名词复数 )；触角；触须；触毛 | |
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33
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34
caterpillars
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| n.毛虫( caterpillar的名词复数 )；履带 | |
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35
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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37
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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38
rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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39
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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correlation
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| n.相互关系，相关，关连 | |
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41
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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42
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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43
outermost
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| adj.最外面的，远离中心的 | |
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44
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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45
nebula
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| n.星云，喷雾剂 | |
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46
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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47
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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48
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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49
subconsciousness
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| 潜意识；下意识 | |
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50
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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51
persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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52
dozes
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| n.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的名词复数 )v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的第三人称单数 ) | |
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53
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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54
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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56
bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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57
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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58
iceberg
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| n.冰山，流冰，冷冰冰的人 | |
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59
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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60
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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