She was known on the boat only as "the little convent girl." Her name, of course, was registered in the clerk's office, but on a steamboat no one thinks of consulting the clerk's ledger3. It is always the little widow, the fat madam, the tall colonel, the parson, etc. The captain, who pronounced by the letter, always called her the little convent girl. She was the beau-ideal of the little convent girl. She never raised her eyes except when spoken to. Of course she never spoke4 first, even to the chambermaid, and when she did speak it was in the wee, shy, furtive5 voice one might imagine a just-budding violet to have; and she walked with such soft, easy, carefully calculated steps that one naturally felt the penalties that must have secured them—penalties dictated6 by a black code of deportment.
She was dressed in deep mourning. Her black straw hat was trimmed with stiff new crape, and her stiff new bombazine dress had crape collar and cuffs8. She wore her hair in two long plaits fastened around her head tight and fast. Her hair had a strong inclination9 to curl, but that had been taken out of it as austerely10 as the noise out of her footfalls. Her hair was as black as her dress; her eyes, when one saw them, seemed blacker than either, on account of the bluishness of the white surrounding the pupil. Her eyelashes were almost as thick as the black veil which the sisters had fastened around her hat with an extra pin the very last thing before leaving. She had a round little face, and a tiny pointed11 chin; her mouth was slightly protuberant12 from the teeth, over which she tried to keep her lips well shut, the effort giving them a pathetic little forced expression. Her complexion13 was sallow, a pale sallow, the complexion of a brunette bleached14 in darkened rooms. The only color about her was a blue taffeta ribbon from which a large silver medal of the Virgin15 hung over the place where a breast pin should have been. She was so little, so little, although she was eighteen, as the sisters told the captain; otherwise they would not have permitted her to travel all the way to New Orleans alone.
Unless the captain or the clerk remembered to fetch her out in front, she would sit all day in the cabin, in the same place, crocheting17 lace, her spool18 of thread and box of patterns in her lap, on the handkerchief spread to save her new dress. Never leaning back—oh, no! always straight and stiff, as if the conventual back board were there within call. She would eat only convent fare at first, notwithstanding the importunities of the waiters, and the jocularities of the captain, and particularly of the clerk. Every one knows the fund of humor possessed19 by a steamboat clerk, and what a field for display the table at meal-times affords. On Friday she fasted rigidly20, and she never began to eat, or finished, without a little Latin movement of the lips and a sign of the cross. And always at six o'clock of the evening she remembered the angelus, although there was no church bell to remind her of it.
She was in mourning for her father, the sisters told the captain, and she was going to New Orleans to her mother. She had not seen her mother since she was an infant, on account of some disagreement between the parents, in consequence of which the father had brought her to Cincinnati, and placed her in the convent. There she had been for twelve years, only going to her father for vacations and holidays. So long as the father lived he would never let the child have any communication with her mother. Now that he was dead all that was changed, and the first thing that the girl herself wanted to do was to go to her mother.
The mother superior had arranged it all with the mother of the girl, who was to come personally to the boat in New Orleans, and receive her child from the captain, presenting a letter from the mother superior, a facsimile of which the sisters gave the captain.
It is a long voyage from Cincinnati to New Orleans, the rivers doing their best to make it interminable, embroidering21 themselves ad libitum all over the country. Every five miles, and sometimes oftener, the boat would stop to put off or take on freight, if not both. The little convent girl, sitting in the cabin, had her terrible frights at first from the hideous22 noises attendant on these landings—the whistles, the ringings of the bells, the running to and fro, the shouting. Every time she thought it was shipwreck23, death, judgment24, purgatory25; and her sins! her sins! She would drop her crochet16, and clutch her prayer-beads from her pocket, and relax the constraint26 over her lips, which would go to rattling27 off prayers with the velocity28 of a relaxed windlass. That was at first, before the captain took to fetching her out in front to see the boat make a landing. Then she got to liking29 it so much that she would stay all day just where the captain put her, going inside only for her meals. She forgot herself at times so much that she would draw her chair a little closer to the railing, and put up her veil, actually, to see better. No one ever usurped30 her place, quite in front, or intruded31 upon her either with word or look; for every one learned to know her shyness, and began to feel a personal interest in her, and all wanted the little convent girl to see everything that she possibly could.
And it was worth seeing—the balancing and chasséeing and waltzing of the cumbersome32 old boat to make a landing. It seemed to be always attended with the difficulty and the improbability of a new enterprise; and the relief when it did sidle up anywhere within rope's-throw of the spot aimed at! And the roustabout throwing the rope from the perilous33 end of the dangling34 gang-plank35! And the dangling roustabouts hanging like drops of water from it—dropping sometimes twenty feet to the land, and not infrequently into the river itself. And then what a rolling of barrels, and shouldering of sacks, and singing of Jim Crow songs, and pacing of Jim Crow steps; and black skins glistening36 through torn shirts, and white teeth gleaming through red lips, and laughing, and talking and—bewildering! entrancing! Surely the little convent girl in her convent walls never dreamed of so much unpunished noise and movement in the world!
The first time she heard the mate—it must have been like the first time woman ever heard man—curse and swear, she turned pale, and ran quickly, quickly into the saloon, and—came out again? No, indeed! not with all the soul she had to save, and all the other sins on her conscience. She shook her head resolutely37, and was not seen in her chair on deck again until the captain not only reassured38 her, but guaranteed his reassurance39. And after that, whenever the boat was about to make a landing, the mate would first glance up to the guards, and if the little convent girl was sitting there he would change his invective40 to sarcasm41, and politely request the colored gentlemen not to hurry themselves—on no account whatever; to take their time about shoving out the plank; to send the rope ashore42 by post-office—write him when it got there; begging them not to strain their backs; calling them mister, colonel, major, general, prince, and your royal highness, which was vastly amusing. At night, however, or when the little convent girl was not there, language flowed in its natural curve, the mate swearing like a pagan to make up for lost time.
The captain forgot himself one day: it was when the boat ran aground in the most unexpected manner and place, and he went to work to express his opinion, as only steamboat captains can, of the pilot, mate, engineer, crew, boat, river, country, and the world in general, ringing the bell, first to back, then to head, shouting himself hoarser43 than his own whistle—when he chanced to see the little black figure hurrying through the chaos44 on the deck; and the captain stuck as fast aground in midstream as the boat had done.
In the evening the little convent girl would be taken on the upper deck, and going up the steep stairs there was such confusion, to keep the black skirts well over the stiff white petticoats; and, coming down, such blushing when suspicion would cross the unprepared face that a rim7 of white stocking might be visible; and the thin feet, laced so tightly in the glossy45 new leather boots, would cling to each successive step as if they could never, never make another venture; and then one boot would (there is but that word) hesitate out, and feel and feel around, and have such a pause of helpless agony as if indeed the next step must have been wilfully46 removed, or was nowhere to be found on the wide, wide earth.
It was a miracle that the pilot ever got her up into the pilot-house; but pilots have a lonely time, and do not hesitate even at miracles when there is a chance for company. He would place a box for her to climb to the tall bench behind the wheel, and he would arrange the cushions, and open a window here to let in air, and shut one there to cut off a draft, as if there could be no tenderer consideration in life for him than her comfort. And he would talk of the river to her, explain the chart, pointing out eddies47, whirlpools, shoals, depths, new beds, old beds, cut-offs, caving banks, and making banks, as exquisitely48 and respectfully as if she had been the River Commission.
It was his opinion that there was as great a river as the Mississippi flowing directly under it—an underself of a river, as much a counterpart of the other as the second story of a house is of the first; in fact, he said they were navigating49 through the upper story. Whirlpools were holes in the floor of the upper river, so to speak; eddies were rifts50 and cracks. And deep under the earth, hurrying toward the subterranean51 stream, were other streams, small and great, but all deep, hurrying to and from that great mother-stream underneath52, just as the small and great overground streams hurry to and from their mother Mississippi. It was almost more than the little convent girl could take in: at least such was the expression of her eyes; for they opened as all eyes have to open at pilot stories. And he knew as much of astronomy as he did of hydrology, could call the stars by name, and define the shapes of the constellations53; and she, who had studied astronomy at the convent, was charmed to find that what she had learned was all true. It was in the pilot-house, one night, that she forgot herself for the first time in her life, and stayed up until after nine o'clock. Although she appeared almost intoxicated54 at the wild pleasure, she was immediately overwhelmed at the wickedness of it, and observed much more rigidity55 of conduct thereafter. The engineer, the boiler-men, the firemen, the stokers, they all knew when the little convent girl was up in the pilot-house: the speaking-tube became so mild and gentle.
With all the delays of river and boat, however, there is an end to the journey from Cincinnati to New Orleans. The latter city, which at one time to the impatient seemed at the terminus of the never, began, all of a sudden, one day to make its nearingness felt; and from that period every other interest paled before the interest in the immanence of arrival into port, and the whole boat was seized with a panic of preparation, the little convent girl with the others. Although so immaculate was she in person and effects that she might have been struck with a landing, as some good people might be struck with death, at any moment without fear of results, her trunk was packed and repacked, her satchel arranged and rearranged, and, the last day, her hair was brushed and plaited and smoothed over and over again until the very last glimmer56 of a curl disappeared. Her dress was whisked, as if for microscopic57 inspection58; her face was washed; and her finger-nails were scrubbed with the hard convent nail-brush, until the disciplined little tips ached with a pristine59 soreness. And still there were hours to wait, and still the boat added up delays. But she arrived at last, after all, with not more than the usual and expected difference between the actual and the advertised time of arrival.
There was extra blowing and extra ringing, shouting, commanding, rushing up the gangway and rushing down the gangway. The clerks, sitting behind tables on the first deck, were plied60, in the twinkling of an eye, with estimates, receipts, charges, countercharges, claims, reclaims61, demands, questions, accusations62, threats, all at topmost voices. None but steamboat clerks could have stood it. And there were throngs63 composed of individuals every one of whom wanted to see the captain first and at once: and those who could not get to him shouted over the heads of the others; and as usual he lost his temper and politeness, and began to do what he termed "hustle64."
"Captain! Captain!" a voice called him to where a hand plucked his sleeve, and a letter was thrust toward him. "The cross, and the name of the convent." He recognized the envelop65 of the mother superior. He read the duplicate of the letter given by the sisters. He looked at the woman—the mother—casually, then again and again.
The little convent girl saw him coming, leading some one toward her. She rose. The captain took her hand first, before the other greeting, "Good-by, my dear," he said. He tried to add something else, but seemed undetermined what. "Be a good little girl—" It was evidently all he could think of. Nodding to the woman behind him, he turned on his heel, and left.
One of the deck-hands was sent to fetch her trunk. He walked out behind them, through the cabin, and the crowd on deck, down the stairs, and out over the gangway. The little convent girl and her mother went with hands tightly clasped. She did not turn her eyes to the right or left, or once (what all passengers do) look backward at the boat which, however slowly, had carried her surely over dangers that she wot not of. All looked at her as she passed. All wanted to say good-by to the little convent girl, to see the mother who had been deprived of her so long. Some expressed surprise in a whistle; some in other ways. All exclaimed audibly, or to themselves, "Colored!"
It takes about a month to make the round trip from New Orleans to Cincinnati and back, counting five days' stoppage in New Orleans. It was a month to a day when the steamboat came puffing66 and blowing up to the wharf67 again, like a stout68 dowager after too long a walk; and the same scene of confusion was enacted69, as it had been enacted twelve times a year, at almost the same wharf for twenty years; and the same calm, a death calmness by contrast, followed as usual the next morning.
The decks were quiet and clean; one cargo70 had just been delivered, part of another stood ready on the levee to be shipped. The captain was there waiting for his business to begin, the clerk was in his office getting his books ready, the voice of the mate could be heard below, mustering71 the old crew out and a new crew in; for if steamboat crews have a single principle,—and there are those who deny them any,—it is never to ship twice in succession on the same boat. It was too early yet for any but roustabouts, marketers, and church-goers; so early that even the river was still partly mist-covered; only in places could the swift, dark current be seen rolling swiftly along.
"Captain!" A hand plucked at his elbow, as if not confident that the mere72 calling would secure attention. The captain turned. The mother of the little convent girl stood there, and she held the little convent girl by the hand. "I have brought her to see you," the woman said. "You were so kind—and she is so quiet, so still, all the time, I thought it would do her a pleasure."
She spoke with an accent, and with embarrassment73; otherwise one would have said that she was bold and assured enough.
"She don't go nowhere, she don't do nothing but make her crochet and her prayers, so I thought I would bring her for a little visit of 'How d' ye do' to you."
There was, perhaps, some inflection in the woman's voice that might have made known, or at least awakened74, the suspicion of some latent hope or intention, had the captain's ear been fine enough to detect it. There might have been something in the little convent girl's face, had his eye been more sensitive—trifle paler, maybe, the lips a little tighter drawn75, the blue ribbon a shade faded. He may have noticed that, but— And the visit of "How d' ye do" came to an end.
They walked down the stairway, the woman in front, the little convent girl—her hand released to shake hands with the captain—following, across the bared deck, out to the gangway, over to the middle of it. No one was looking, no one saw more than a flutter of white petticoats, a show of white stockings, as the little convent girl went under the water.
The roustabout dived, as the roustabouts always do, after the drowning, even at the risk of their good-for-nothing lives. The mate himself jumped overboard; but she had gone down in a whirlpool. Perhaps, as the pilot had told her whirlpools always did, it may have carried her through to the underground river, to that vast, hidden, dark Mississippi that flows beneath the one we see; for her body was never found.
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1
satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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3
ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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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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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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9
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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10
austerely
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| adv.严格地，朴质地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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protuberant
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| adj.突出的，隆起的 | |
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13
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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15
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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16
crochet
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| n.钩针织物；v.用钩针编制 | |
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crocheting
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| v.用钩针编织( crochet的现在分词 )；钩编 | |
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spool
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| n.（缠录音带等的）卷盘（轴）；v.把…绕在卷轴上 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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embroidering
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| v.（在织物上）绣花( embroider的现在分词 )；刺绣；对…加以渲染（或修饰）；给…添枝加叶 | |
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22
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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velocity
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| n.速度，速率 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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usurped
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的过去式和过去分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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32
cumbersome
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| adj.笨重的，不便携带的 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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40
invective
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| n.痛骂，恶意抨击 | |
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41
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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42
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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43
hoarser
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| （指声音）粗哑的，嘶哑的( hoarse的比较级 ) | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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45
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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46
wilfully
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| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
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47
eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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49
navigating
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| v.给（船舶、飞机等）引航，导航( navigate的现在分词 )；（从海上、空中等）横越；横渡；飞跃 | |
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50
rifts
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| n.裂缝( rift的名词复数 )；裂隙；分裂；不和 | |
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51
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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52
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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53
constellations
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| n.星座( constellation的名词复数 )；一群杰出人物；一系列（相关的想法、事物）；一群（相关的人） | |
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54
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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56
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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57
microscopic
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| adj.微小的，细微的，极小的，显微的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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pristine
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| adj.原来的，古时的，原始的，纯净的，无垢的 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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reclaims
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| v.开拓( reclaim的第三人称单数 )；要求收回；从废料中回收（有用的材料）；挽救 | |
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62
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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63
throngs
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| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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64
hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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65
envelop
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| vt.包，封，遮盖；包围 | |
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66
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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67
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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69
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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71
mustering
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的现在分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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72
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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73
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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74
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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75
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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