The next morning Jack1 Meredith was awakened2 by his servant Joseph before it was fully3 light. It would appear as if Joseph had taken no means of awakening4 him, for Meredith awoke quite quietly to find Joseph standing5 by his bed.
“Holloa!” exclaimed the master, fully awake at once, as townsmen are.
Joseph stood at attention by the bedside.
“Woke you before yer time, sir,” he said. “There's something wrong among these 'ere darkie fellers, sir.”
“Wrong! what do you mean?”
Meredith was already lacing his shoes.
“No, sir, not that. It's some mortual sickness. I don't know what it is. I've been up half the night with them. It's spreading, too.”
“Sickness! what does it seem like? Just give me that jacket. Not that sleeping sickness?”
“No, sir. It's not that. Missis Marie was telling me about that—awful scourge7 that, sir. No, the poor chaps are wide-awake enough. Groanin', and off their heads too, mostly.”
“Have you called Mr. Oscard?”
“No, sir.”
“Call him and Mr. Durnovo.”
“Met Mr. Durnovo, sir, goin' out as I came in.”
In a few moments Jack joined Durnovo and Oscard, who were talking together on the terrace in front of the house. Guy Oscard was still in his pyjamas8, which he had tucked into top-boots. He also wore a sun-helmet, which added a finish to his costume. They got quite accustomed to this get-up during the next three days, for he never had time to change it; and, somehow, it ceased to be humorous long before the end of that time.
“Oh, it's nothing,” Durnovo was saying, with a singular eagerness. “I know these chaps. They have been paid in advance. They are probably shamming9, and if they are not they are only suffering from the effects of a farewell glorification10. They want to delay our start. That is their little game. It will give them a better chance of deserting.”
“At any rate, we had better go and see them,” suggested Jack.
“No, don't!” cried Durnovo eagerly, detaining him with both hands. “Take my advice, and don't. Just have breakfast in the ordinary way and pretend there is nothing wrong. Then afterwards you can lounge casually11 into the camp.”
“All right,” said Jack, rather unwillingly12.
“It has been of some use—this scare,” said Durnovo, turning and looking towards the river. “It has reminded me of something. We have not nearly enough quinine. I will just take a quick canoe, and run down to Loango to fetch some.”
He turned quite away from them, and stooped to attach the lace of his boot.
“I can travel night and day, and be back here in three days,” he added. “In the meantime you can be getting on with the loading of the canoes, and we will start as soon as I get back.”
“Seems to me,” he said, “there's thunder coming. I think I had better be off at once.”
In the course of his inspection14 of the lowering clouds which hung, black as ink, just above the trees, his eyes lighted on Joseph, standing within the door of the cottage, watching him with a singular half-suppressed smile.
“Yes,” he said hurriedly, “I will start at once. I can eat some sort of a breakfast when we are under way.”
He looked beneath his lashes15 quickly from Jack to Guy and back again. Their silent acquiescence16 was not quite satisfactory. Then he called his own men, and spoke17 to them in a tongue unknown to the Englishmen. He hurried forward their preparations with a feverish18 irritability19 which made Jack Meredith think of the first time he had ever seen Durnovo—a few miles farther down the river—all palpitating and trembling with climatic nervousness. His face was quite yellow, and there was a line drawn20 diagonally from the nostrils21 down each cheek, to lose itself ultimately in the heavy black moustache.
Before he stepped into his canoe the thunder was rumbling22 in the distance, and the air was still as death. Breathing was an effort; the inhaled23 air did not satisfy the lungs, and seemed powerless to expand them.
Overhead the clouds, of a blue-black intensity24, seemed almost to touch the trees; the river was of ink. The rowers said nothing, but they lingered on the bank and watched Durnovo's face anxiously. When he took his seat in the canoe they looked protestingly up to the sky. Durnovo said something to them rapidly, and they laid their paddles to the water.
Scarcely had the boat disappeared in the bend of the river before the rain broke. It came with the rush of an express train—the trees bending before the squall like reeds. The face of the river was tormented25 into a white fury by the drops which splashed up again a foot in height. The lashing26 of the water on the bare backs of the negroes was distinctly audible to Victor Durnovo.
Then the black clouds split up like a rent cloth, and showed behind them, not Heaven, but the living fire of Hell. The thunder crashed out in sharp reports like file-firing at a review. With one accord the men ceased rowing and crouched27 down in the canoe.
Durnovo shouted to them, his face livid with fury. But for some moments his voice was quite lost. The lightning ran over the face of the river like will-o'-the-wisps; the whole heaven was streaked28 continuously with it.
Suddenly the negroes leaped to their paddles and rowed with bent29 back, and wild staring eyes, as if possessed30. They were covered by the muzzle31 of Durnovo's revolver.
Behind the evil-looking barrel of blue steel, the half-caste's dripping face looked forth32, peering into the terrific storm. There was no question of fending33 off such torrents34 of rain, nor did he attempt it. Indeed, he seemed to court its downfall. He held out his arms and stretched forth his legs, giving free play to the water which ran off him in a continual stream, washing his thin khaki clothing on his limbs. He raised his face to the sky, and let the water beat upon his brow and hair.
The roar of the thunder, which could be FELT, so great was the vibration36 of the laden37 air, seemed to have no fear for him. The lightning, ever shooting athwart the sky, made him blink as if dazzled, but he looked upon it without emotion.
He knew that behind him he had left a greater danger than this, and he stretched out his limbs to the cleansing38 torrent35 with an exulting39 relief to be washed from the dread40 infection. Small-pox had laid its hand on the camp at Msala: and from the curse of it Victor Durnovo was flying in a mad chattering41 panic through all the anger of the tropic elements, holding death over his half-stunned crew, not daring to look behind him or pause in his coward's flight.
It is still said on the Ogowe river that no man travels like Victor Durnovo. Certain it is that, in twenty-seven hours from the time that he left Msala on the morning of the great storm, he presented himself before Maurice Gordon in his office at the factory at Loango.
“Ah!” cried Gordon, hardly noticing the washed-out, harassed42 appearance of the visitor; “here you are again. I heard that the great expedition had started.”
“So it has, but I have come back to get one or two things we have forgotten. Got any sherry handy?”
“Of course,” replied Gordon, with perfect adhesion to the truth.
He laid aside his pen and, turning in his chair, drew a decanter from a small cupboard which stood on the ground at his side.
“Here you are,” he continued, pouring out a full glass with practised, but slightly unsteady, hand.
“Ah!” he said, “that does a chap good.”
“Does it now?” exclaimed Maurice Gordon with mock surprise. “Well, I'll just try.”
The manner in which he emptied his glass was quite different, with a long, slow drawing-out of the enjoyment44, full of significance for the initiated45.
“Will you be at home to-night?” asked Durnovo, gently pushing aside the hospitable46 decanter. “I have got a lot of work to do to-day, but I should like to run in and see you this evening.”
“Yes, come and dine.”
Durnovo shook his head and looked down at his wrinkled and draggled clothing.
“No, I can't do that, old man. Not in this trim.”
“Bosh? What matter? Jocelyn doesn't mind.”
“No, but I do.”
It was obvious that he wanted to accept the invitation, although the objection he raised was probably honest. For that taint47 in the blood that cometh from the subtle tar-brush brings with it a vanity that has its equal in no white man's heart.
“Well, I'll lend you a black coat! Seven o'clock sharp!”
Durnovo hurried away with a gleam of excitement in his dark eyes.
Maurice Gordon did not resume his work at once. He sat for some time idly drumming with his fingers on the desk.
“If I can only get her to be civil to him,” he reflected aloud, “I'll get into this business yet.”
At seven o'clock Durnovo appeared at the Gordons' house. He had managed to borrow a dress-suit, and wore an orchid48 in his buttonhole. It was probably the first time that Jocelyn had seen him in this garb49 of civilisation50, which is at the same time the most becoming and the most trying variety of costume left to sensible men in these days. A dress-suit finds a man out sooner than anything except speech.
Jocelyn was civil in her reception—more so, indeed, than Maurice Gordon had hoped for. She seemed almost glad to see Durnovo, and evinced quite a kindly51 interest in his movements. Durnovo attributed this to the dress-suit, while Maurice concluded that his obvious hints, thrown out before dinner, had fallen on fruitful ground.
At dinner Victor Durnovo was quite charmed with the interest that Jocelyn took in the expedition, of which, he gave it to be understood, he was the chief. So also was Maurice, because Durnovo's evident admiration52 of Jocelyn somewhat overcame his natural secrecy53 of character.
“You'll hear of me, Miss Gordon, never fear, before three months are past,” said Durnovo, in reply to a vague suggestion that his absence might extend to several months. “I am not the sort of man to come to grief by a foolish mistake or any unnecessary risk.”
The simple dinner was almost at an end, and it was at this time that Jocelyn Gordon began once more to dislike Durnovo. At first she had felt drawn towards him. Although he wore the dress-clothes rather awkwardly, there was something in his manner which reminded her vaguely55 of a gentleman. It was not that he was exactly gentlemanly, but there was the reflection of good breeding in his bearing. Dark-skinned people, be it noted56, have usually the imitative faculty57. As the dinner and the wine warmed his heart, so by degrees he drew on his old self like a glove. He grew bolder and less guarded. His opinion of himself rose momentarily, and with it a certain gleam in his eyes increased as they rested on Jocelyn.
It was not long before she noted this, and quite suddenly her ancient dislike of the man was up in arms with a new intensity gathered she knew not whence.
“And,” said Maurice, when Jocelyn had left them, “I suppose you'll be a millionaire in about six months?”
He gently pushed the wine towards him at the same time. Durnovo had not slept for forty hours. The excitement of his escape from the plague-ridden camp had scarcely subsided58. The glitter of the silver on the table, the shaded candles, the subtle sensuality of refinement59 and daintiness appealed to his hot-blooded nature. He was a little off his feet perhaps. He took the decanter and put it to the worst use he could have selected.
“Not so soon as that,” he said; “but in time—in time.”
“Lucky beggar!” muttered Maurice Gordon, with a little sigh.
“I don't mind telling you,” said Durnovo, with a sudden confidence begotten60 of Madeira, “that it's Simiacine—that's what it is. I can't tell you more.”
“Simiacine,” repeated Gordon, fingering the stem of his wine-glass and looking at him keenly between the candle-shades. “Yes. You've always been on its track, haven't you?”
“In six months your go-downs will be full of it—my Simiacine, my Simiacine.”
“By God, I wish I had a hand in it.”
Maurice Gordon pushed the decanter again—gently, almost surreptitiously.
“And so you may, some day. You help me and I'll help you—that is my ticket. Reciprocity—reciprocity, my dear Maurice.”
“Yes, but how?”
“Can't tell you now, but I will in good time—in my own time. Come, let's join the ladies—eh? haha!”
But at this moment the servant brought in coffee, saying in his master's ear that Miss Jocelyn had gone to bed with a slight headache.
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1
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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2
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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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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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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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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8
pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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9
shamming
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| 假装，冒充( sham的现在分词 ) | |
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10
glorification
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| n.赞颂 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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14
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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15
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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16
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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17
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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18
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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irritability
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| n.易怒 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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21
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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22
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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23
inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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27
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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fending
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| v.独立生活，照料自己( fend的现在分词 )；挡开，避开 | |
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34
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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38
cleansing
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| n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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40
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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41
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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42
harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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43
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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44
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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45
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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46
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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47
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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48
orchid
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| n.兰花，淡紫色 | |
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49
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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50
civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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51
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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52
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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53
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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54
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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55
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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56
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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57
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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58
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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59
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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begotten
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| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
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