“Farlingford's his nation,” they said of him down at the quay3. “Born and bred here, man and boy. He's not likely to put her into a Thames dry-dock while the slip-way's standing4 empty.”
All the village gossips naturally connected the arrival of the two gentlemen from London with the expected return of “The Last Hope.” Captain Clubbe was known to have commercial relations with France. It was currently reported that he could speak the language. No one could tell the number of his voyages backward and forward from the Bay to Bristol, to Yarmouth, and even to Bergen, carrying salt-fish to those countries where their religion bids them eat that which they cannot supply from their own waters, and bringing back wine from Bordeaux and brandy from Charente.
It is not etiquette5, however, on these wind-swept coasts to inquire too closely into a man's business, and, as in other places, the talk was mostly among those who knew the least—namely, the women. There had been a question of repairing the church. The generation now slowly finding its way to its precincts had discussed the matter since their childhood and nothing had come of it.
One bold spirit put forth6 the suggestion that the two gentlemen were London architects sent down by the Queen to see to the church. But the idea fell to the ground before the assurance from Mrs. Clopton's own lips that the old gentleman was nothing but a Frenchman.
Mrs. Clopton kept “The Black Sailor,” and knew a deal more than she was ready to tell people; which is tantamount to saying that she was a woman in a thousand. It had leaked out, however, that the spokesman of the party, Mr. Dormer Colville, had asked Mrs. Clopton whether it was true that there was claret in the cellars of “The Black Sailor.” And any one having doubts could satisfy himself with a sight of the empty bottles, all mouldy, standing in the back yard of the inn.
They were wine-merchants from France, concluded the wiseacres of Farlingford over their evening beer. They had come to Farlingford to see Captain Clubbe. What could be more natural! For Farlingford was proud of Captain Clubbe. It so often happens that a man going out into the world and making a great name there, forgets his birthplace and the rightful claim to a gleam of reflected glory which the relations of a great man—who have themselves stayed at home and done nothing—are always ready to consider their due reward for having shaken their heads over him during the earlier struggles.
Though slow of tongue, the men of Farlingford were of hospitable9 inclination10. They were sorry for Frenchmen, as for a race destined11 to smart for all time under the recollection of many disastrous12 defeats at sea. And of course they could not help being ridiculous. Heaven had made them like that while depriving them of any hope of ever attaining13 to good seamanship. Here was a foreigner, however, cast up in their midst, not by the usual channel indeed, but by a carriage and pair from Ipswich. He must feel lonesome, they thought, and strange. They, therefore, made an effort to set him at his ease, and when they met him in “the street” jerked their heads at him sideways. The upward jerk is less friendly and usually denotes the desire to keep strictly14 within the limits of acquaintanceship. To Mr. Dormer Colville they gave the upward lift of the chin as to a person too facile in speech to be desirable.
The dumbness of the Marquis de Gemosac appealed perhaps to a race of seafaring men very sparingly provided by nature with words in which to clothe thoughts no less solid and sensible by reason of their terseness16. It was at all events unanimously decided that everything should be done to make the foreigner welcome until the arrival of “The Last Hope.” A similar unanimity17 characterised the decision that he must without delay be shown Frenchman's grave.
River Andrew's action and the unprecedented18 display of his Sunday hat on a week-day were nothing but the outcome of a deep-laid scheme. Mrs. Clopton had been instructed to recommend the gentlemen to inspect the church, and the rest had been left to the wit of River Andrew, a man whose calling took him far and wide, and gave him opportunities of speech with gentlefolk.
These opportunities tempted19 River Andrew to go beyond his instructions so far as to hint that he could, if encouraged, make disclosures of interest respecting Frenchman. Which was untrue; for River Andrew knew no more than the rest of Farlingford of a man who, having been literally20 cast up by the sea at their gates, had lived his life within those gates, had married a Farlingford woman, and had at last gone the way of all Farlingford without telling any who or what he was.
From sundry21 open cottage doors and well-laden tea-tables glances of inquiry22 were directed toward the strangers' faces as they walked down the street after having viewed the church. Some prescient females went so far as to state that they could see quite distinctly in the elder gentleman's demeanour a sense of comfort and consolation23 at the knowledge thus tactfully conveyed to him that he was not the first of his kind to be seen in Farlingford.
Hard upon the heels of the visitors followed River Andrew, wearing his sou'wester now and carrying the news that “The Last Hope” was coming up on the top of the tide.
Farlingford lies four miles from the mouth of the river, and no ship can well arrive unexpected at the quay; for the whole village may see her tacking24 up under shortened sail, heading all ways, sometimes close-hauled, and now running free as she follows the zigzags25 of the river.
Thus, from the open door, the villagers calculated the chances of being able to finish the evening meal at leisure and still be down at the quay in time to see Seth Clubbe bring his ship alongside. One by one the men of Farlingford, pipe in mouth, went toward the river, not forgetting the kindly26, sideward jerk of the head for the old Frenchman already waiting there.
It was nearly the top of the tide and the clear green water swelled27 and gurgled round the weedy piles of the quay, bringing on its surface tokens from the sea—shadowy jelly-fish, weed, and froth. “The Last Hope” was quite close at hand now, swinging up in mid-stream. The sun had set and over the marshes28 the quiet of evening brooded hazily29. Captain Clubbe had taken in all sail except a jib. His anchor was swinging lazily overside, ready to drop. The watchers on the quay could note the gentle rise and fall of the crack little vessel30 as the tide lifted her from behind. She seemed to be dancing to her home like a maiden31 back from school. The swing of her tapering32 masts spoke7 of the heaving seas she had left behind.
It was characteristic of Farlingford that no one spoke. River Andrew was already in his boat, ready to lend a hand should Captain Clubbe wish to send a rope ashore33. But it was obvious that the captain meant to anchor in the stream for the night: so obvious that if any one on shore had mentioned the conclusion his speech would have called for nothing but a contemptuous glance from the steady blue eyes all round him.
It was equally characteristic of a Farlingford ship that there were no greetings from the deck. Those on shore could clearly perceive the burly form of Captain Clubbe, standing by the weather rigging. Wives could distinguish their husbands, and girls their lovers; but, as these were attending to their business with a taciturn concentration, no hand was raised in salutation.
The wind had dropped now. For these are coasts of quiet nights and boisterous34 days. The tide was almost slack. “The Last Hope” was scarcely moving, and in the shadowy light looked like a phantom35 ship sailing out of a dreamy sunset sky.
Suddenly the silence was broken, so unexpectedly, so dramatically, that the old Frenchman, to whose nature such effects would naturally appeal with a lightning speed, rose to his feet and stood looking with startled eyes toward the ship. A clear strong voice had broken joyously36 into song, and the words it sang were French:
“C'est le Hasard,
Qui, tot ou tard,
Ici bas nous seconde;
Car,
A l'autre bout,
Not only were the words incongruous with their quaint15, sadly gay air of a dead epoch39 of music and poetry; but the voice was in startling contrast to the tones of a gruff and slow-speaking people. For it was a clear tenor40 voice with a ring of emotion in it, half laughter, half tears, such as no Briton could compass himself, or hear in another without a dumb feeling of shame and shyness.
But those who heard it on the shore—and all Farlingford was there by this time—only laughed curtly42. Some of the women exchanged a glance and made imperfectly developed gestures, as of a tolerance43 understood between mothers for anything that is young and inconsequent.
“We've gotten Loo Barebone back at any rate,” said a man, bearing the reputation of a wit. And after a long pause one or two appreciators answered:
“You're right,” and laughed good-humouredly.
The Marquis de Gemosac sat down again, with a certain effort at self-control, on the balk44 of timber which had been used by some generations of tide-watchers. He turned and exchanged a glance with Dormer Colville, who stood at his side leaning on his gold-headed cane45. Colville's expression seemed to say:
“I told you what it would be. But wait: there is more to come.”
His affable eyes made a round of the watching faces, and even exchanged a sympathetic smile with some, as if to hint that his clothes were only fine because he belonged to a fine generation, but that his heart was as human as any beating under a homelier coat.
“There's Passen,” said one woman to another, behind the corner of her apron46, within Colville's hearing. “It takes a deal to bring him out o' doors nowadays, and little Sep and—Miss Miriam.”
Dormer Colville heard the words. And he heard something unspoken in the pause before the mention of the last name. He did not look at once in the direction indicated by a jerk of the speaker's thumb, but waited until a change of position enabled him to turn his head without undue47 curiosity. He threw back his shoulders and stretched his legs after the manner of one cramped48 by standing too long in one attitude.
A hundred yards farther up the river, where the dyke49 was wider, a grey-haired man was walking slowly toward the quay. In front of him a boy of ten years was endeavouring to drag a young girl toward the jetty at a quicker pace than she desired. She was laughing at his impetuosity and looking back toward the man who followed them with the abstraction and indifference50 of a student.
Colville took in the whole picture in one quick comprehensive glance. But he turned again as the singer on board “The Last Hope” began another verse. The words were clearly audible to such as knew the language, and Colville noted51 that the girl turned with a sudden gravity to listen to them.
“Un tel qu'on vantait
Par hasard il plut,
Par hasard il fut
Captain Clubbe's harsh voice broke into the song with the order to let go the anchor. As the ship swung to the tide the steersman, who wore neither coat nor waistcoat, could be seen idly handling the wheel still, though his duties were necessarily at an end. He was a young man, and a gay salutation of his unemployed54 hand toward the assembled people—as if he were sure that they were all friends—stamped him as the light-hearted singer, so different from the Farlingford men, so strongly contrasted to his hearers, who nevertheless jerked their heads sideways in response. He had, it seemed, rightly gauged55 the feelings of these cold East Anglians. They were his friends.
River Andrew's boat was alongside “The Last Hope” now. Some one had thrown him a rope, which he had passed under his bow thwart56 and now held with one hand, while with the other he kept his distance from the tarry side of the ship. There was a pause until the schooner57 felt her moorings, then Captain Clubbe looked over the side and nodded a curt41 salutation to River Andrew, bidding him, by the same gesture, wait a minute until he had donned his shore-going jacket. The steersman was pulling on his coat while he sought among the crowd the faces of his more familiar friends. He was, it seemed, a privileged person, and took it for granted that he should go ashore with the captain. He was, perhaps, one of those who seemed to be privileged at their birth by Fate, and pass through life on the sunny side with a light step and laughing lips.
Captain Clubbe was the first to step ashore, with one comprehensive nod of the head for all Farlingford. Close on his heels the younger sailor was already returning the greetings of his friends.
“Hullo, Loo!” they said; or, “How do, Barebone?” For their tongues are no quicker than their limbs, and to this day, “How do?” is the usual greeting.
The Marquis de Gemosac, who was sitting in the background, gave a sharp little exclamation58 of surprise when Barebone stepped ashore, and turned to Dormer Colville to say in an undertone:
“Ah—but you need say nothing.”
“I promised you,” answered Colville, carelessly, “that I should tell you nothing till you had seen him.”
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1
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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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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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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7
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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8
par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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9
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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11
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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12
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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13
attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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14
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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15
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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16
terseness
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| 简洁，精练 | |
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17
unanimity
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| n.全体一致，一致同意 | |
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18
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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19
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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20
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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21
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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22
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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23
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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24
tacking
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| （帆船）抢风行驶，定位焊[铆]紧钉 | |
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25
zigzags
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| n.锯齿形的线条、小径等( zigzag的名词复数 )v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的第三人称单数 ) | |
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26
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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27
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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28
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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29
hazily
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| ad. vaguely, not clear | |
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30
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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31
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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32
tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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33
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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34
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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35
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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36
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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37
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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38
tout
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| v.推销，招徕；兜售；吹捧，劝诱 | |
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39
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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40
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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41
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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42
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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43
tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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44
balk
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| n.大方木料；v.妨碍；不愿前进或从事某事 | |
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45
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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46
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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47
undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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48
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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49
dyke
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| n.堤，水坝，排水沟 | |
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50
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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51
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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52
mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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53
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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54
unemployed
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| adj.失业的，没有工作的；未动用的，闲置的 | |
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55
gauged
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| adj.校准的；标准的；量规的；量计的v.（用仪器）测量( gauge的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；计量；划分 | |
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56
thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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57
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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58
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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